There are wonderful cryptic parts of everyone's life. Tell yourself a story. All you have to do is say a word or words and there it is ... full blown alive in your memory: Umbrella, Mars, Socks. Pony, Barnum, Yucca. They are all pieces of a life. All you have to do is share the story and tell someone else. Then you have a short story or with really good ones a novel. There are whole worlds alive in every human being.
This is my absolutely favorite song because it is me. Of course you won't understand, because I haven't told you the story. Tell me yours and I'll tell your mine.
When October Goes
Music by Barry Manilow Lyrics by Johnny Mercer
And when October goes
The snow begins to fly
Above the smokey roofs
I watch the planes go by
The children running home
Beneath a twilight sky
Oh, for the fun of them
When I was one of them
And when October goes
The same old dream appears
And you are in my arms
To share the happy years
I turn my head away
To hide the helpless tears
Oh how I hate to see October go
I should be over it now I know
It doesn't matter much
How old I grow
I hate to see October go
15 comments:
It was a dark and stormy night....My story is stories, most too grim & boring to repeat.
tt
Ah Never!!
Tell me a story
Tell me a story
And then I'll go to bed.
Tell me about the birds and bees
How do you make a chicken sneeze
Tell me a story
And then I'll go to bed.
my story is about a small child born in Texas in 1959.Now this young boy was extremely shy, in fact he only excelled at being shier than everyone else. Then, when the young boy was 4, as some sort of cruel joke his Father joined the service which unfortunately for the young boy meant moving every six months or so, 22 schools by the time the young boy finally dropped out his freshman year of high school. Too shy to make friends and too socially awkward to keep any he might have made, the young boy sought solace in books, not the type of books that made him feel like a super hero coming to save the day or hitting the home run to win the 7th game of the world series but books that showed him the fallibility of man, that even the greatest of men had left trails of mistakes, errors in judgement, hypocrasy and worse in their wake.The young boy came to the realization that it mattered not, how many friends one had or how great the achievements were but rather how one treated those he came in contact with, that being honest and courteous to strangers was a virtue and that, though he may never make that great achievement, he was capable of many minor achievements every day. That young boy grew up to be...well...I forget his name, he was kinda weird
the end
Let me tell you a story about telling stories.
“Oncest uponst a time…” was the way my daughter would start her stories some twenty-five years ago. I loved her phraseology and adopted it as my own. Even now when I need to hear her laugh, and before I launch into some silly story, I will say, “Oncest uponst a time…” It still works.
My daughter would make her alternate weekend visits and that required maximum utilization of the limited time available. I relished our bedtime story time. We would quickly move from simply reciting the familiar text and would embellish and act out the script.
The organized process would quickly devolve into a Marx Brothers style of nonsense and ad-libs. If the sole reason for bedtime stories is to bore a child into a deep sleep, I failed miserably. If on the other hand, bedtime stories are a time of sweet interaction and laughing until your side aches, well just maybe, I did it right.
That is the way it was, “Oncest uponst a time.”
I liked Mad Mustard's "Once Uponst a time"....very sweet..I also loved that you used the October Song...I don't have any good stories tonight , but I think I will post a few over on Watergate Summer this weekend -just for you....( http://watergatesummer.blogspot.com/)...love your blog BTW...
Madmustard
You were sitting in when my daughter told me stories about "improbable frog". Whenever he saved the day, he would swell up with pride until they pinned a medal on his chest. This mad him explode and go whishing around the universe until the next time someone needed saving.
Ran, You beat me by one school and took less time to do it. It's good you found your way.
Jamie...I decided to stop by and say "Hello"....I don't have time right now for individual blogs, but I decided to make an exception for yours (PoP has plenty posting over at hers).....
I love October....Rick and I were married 31 yrs ago on Oct 4th...
Mad and Ran....I'm glad I know you...
Renee,
October has always been my favorite month in the whole year. Fall is just the perfect time of year. Even wrote a poem about it that I will save for a future blog.
Love the Improbable Frog Story....Jamie- you asked to join the Enigma Cafe Coffee Counter over at http://watergatesummer.blogspot.com/ , I don't do alphabetical...I always put people at the Counter near other folks that will share the creamer and pass the cream cheese...so I put you next to POP of Morning Martini, I know that is a good spot for you...love your blog , so it was an honor to have you ask to come aboard...Welcome..
Love the picture above and yup..love October...one of my favorite monthes...
Thank you. Next to Pop is just fine.
I see you are a writer and researcher. My career before I retired and of course that makes me addicted to the net.
Your description of yourself makes me curious. You write so well, I'll make your blog a habit.
rebellious renee said...
why thank you Renee, the feeling is mutual
Jamie said...
hahaha don't be so sure I found my
way :-D, I feel that Blind Faith should sing my theme song(Can't Find My Way Home)
and for you fall lovers, I have a Flash jigsaw puzzle of a fall scene in North Conway NH. I've been toying with for a while, if any of you are interested you can see it here Jigsaw Puzzle
it's in the early stages, which for me means I started 7 or 8 years ago and just got sidetracked
Mad: that's nice story
My grandpa used to always love sailing.
Rob,
I grew up next to the Pacific and my uncle had a fishing boat out of San Pedro. Not sailing, but the salt spray in your face and the feel of the waves is still with me.
Do you sail?
Jamie, you must be thinking of LV, singing songs of October, eh?
My sailing days were on aircraft carriers where it was a daily ritual to stand on the fantail or on one of the railings and just watch the water churn from nature and a 95,000 ton behemoth kick up the spray. Still feel it!
TLR
We can't get him to finish reading his daily briefings much less a history book.
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