Subject: Re: Rye on the rocks? Mine's a gin
From: Tim O'Connor (oconnort@nyu.edu)
Date: Sun Jul 22 2001 - 14:18:51 GMT
On Sun, Jul 22, 2001 at 09:07:19AM +0100, Scottie Bowman wrote:
> Believe me, chaps. Phoebe was wrong too.
> (Though NOT, of course, necessarily, Salinger
> by extension.)
I believe you. I was only making the point that a character in the
book knew the little boy was wrong in what he was singing. I wouldn't
DARE to correct a Scot who is quoting Burns -- especially when those
words of poetry came direct from his mother's lips. <grin>
Actually, ever since you elucidated "gin" (with that hard "g"), I've
had it on my mind as a kind of unshakable sound. I find myself
wanting to find situations in which I can use it. (Don't worry; I
always have plenty of faint regret to suit any occasion, as the word
seems to demand, so when I use it, I will do so with proper melancholy.)
I know that I was busy when you posted it, but thanks for that first
great post about Burns and "gin" with the hard "g" sound. It's a
memorable little bit of prose, and it really has been haunting me
since I read it. I greatly appreciate it.
In honor of your contribution, here's a ditty to the melody of Jerome
Kern's "I'm Old Fashioned":
Gin I had the money
to pay the bills, honey,
I'd spend the day
writing checks
rather than
staring at specks
On the ceiling.
They're on the ceiling.
The specks are there,
I can see.
But what about
you and me?
Gin we walked out
and gin we talked out,
the problems we
wrestle with,
all the dreams
we nestle with.
In our taxi,
like Holden's taxi.
The smells they are
vomity,
but I still yearn for
comity.
A-gin. A-gin. Aaaaa-gin.
With you, darling, with you....
(Don't worry, I'm not quitting my day job for Tin Pan Alley.)
--tim
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