"Mr. Booze", et al.--Toe Tapping Stuff

(sung to a Salvation Army revival meeting tempo)
Mr. Booze, Mr. Booze
Mr. B double Ohhh Zee EEE
That sure spells booze.
You will wind up wearing leaden shoes
If you mess with Mr. Booze.....
Don't mess with Mr. Booze, da da da
Don't mess with Mr. Booze,

If your head feel like it's ten foot wide
You'll feel better once you testify, testify, testify
-----
(slow tempo, sung by Dino while he runs the balls off a pool table)
Any man who loves his mother
Is man enough for me
Brightening her hour, sending her flowers
Though it's no anniversary
Many men love dogs and kittens
And pet them constantly
But show me a man who loves his mother
As much as she wants to be...
And I'll show you a man who's a lot like me....
----
Frank, Bing and Dino--A virtuoso performance

You've either got or you haven't got--Style
If you've got it you stand out a mile
A flower's not a flower if it's wilted
A hat's not a hat 'til it's tilted

You've either got or you haven't got--Class
How it draws the applause from the masses
When you wear lapels like the swellest of swells
You can pass any mirror and smile....

When you wear those duds
Duds with black tie and studs
Watch those dolls lining up single file.....

Some songs from "Robin and The Seven Hoods", the last so-called rat pack picture. In 1964. Lawford wasn't in it; he had been excommunicated by Sinatra after the flap about where JFK would stay in Palm Springs in 1962. Bobby didn't like Frank's mob friends so JFK stayed with Der Bingle.

God, watching the 1976 Telethon reunion of Dean and Jerry. Frank brought Dino on and the love was palpable. And other clips--Dean and the Mills Brothers, Dean and Bing, Dean and Frank, and on and on and on. Almost enough to keep on living. Almost but not quite. We hope the occasional person wondering onto this blog will click on a YouTube video of Dino. We have them on here mostly for our own amusement, but it's nice to imagine theyed might be shared once in a while.

...Once in a while will you give one little thought to me
Though someone else may be nearer you heart....

Fifth night sleeping in the car. One gets a little bit used to it. Best sleep so far, which isn't saying very much. Luckily temps are staying around 35 at night. We had the foresight a month ago when we still had some money to buy a synthetic down vest. Very comfy and warm. Feet get a little cold, what with loafers and thin ankle-high running socks. But one isn't likely to get frost bite from such limited over night cold. Can't run the car and heater indiscrimately any longer. Gas is becoming a luxury as money is, finally, running out. We still have a roll of 25 SBA dollars (Susan B. Anthony--not Students for a Better America!) and a few leftover two-dollar bills. The two-dollar bill is the prettiest currency we have. Jefferson on the front and the portrait of the singing of the Declaration of Independence on the back. Also, a few half dollars and pre-63 silver quarters, which will be parted with only at the very end. So, about forty dollars total. Oh, and we have a 25 dollar gift certficate to Chipotle that an ex-girl friend kindly gave me around X-mas. I get by eating for free--found a motel that has a nice morning breakfast that I can just slip in and out of without notice. And, of course, grocery store sampling, though I'm very careful to not overstep that priviledge. Sitting around reading a book called "The RIVALRY: Bill Russell, Wilt Chamberlain, and the Golden Age of Basketball." Title says it all. Fascinating descriptions of pro basketball in the fifties and sixties. Much more brutally physical that today's game. Less money at stake back then. I grew up as a fan of Wilt, remembering the championship with the Lakers in the early seventies.

Hillary--Didn't take voter questions campaigning in Iowa but now that she lost big is turning into a regular Oprah in New Hampshire. Too late. Hillary is done. No comeback this time. Go back home with Bill and that ugly duckling of a daughter. Little Chelsea told some junior high school journalist in Iowa to go f#ck herself. I mean, my God. You couldn't make that up. Country is, given a reasonable alternative in Obama, sick to death of Hillary and Bill. Couldn't have happened to a nicer cun....er broad. She is just not likable. The more you see of her, in those pant suits and that insincere smile, the more you dislike her. Who wants to listen to this woman for 4 or 8 years as president. Like some obnoxious older aunt (or wife or mother) that just makes your skin crawl. All politicians are piece-of-crap liers. Part of the job description. But you got to have some charm and a affable personality, at least in public. Huckabee has got that. McCain has got that. Obama is the champ in that department. I liked George Carlin's take on Bob Dole--he's full of sh&t but at least let's you know that he know and that he knows that you know. She also, to be fair, got "swift-boated" at bit. All that talk about whether the country wanted to watch Hillary grow old before our eyes. Insert here pictures of Eleanor Roosevelt and Madeline Albright. Ugh. Hillary's fall proves that there is justice after all.