Wild Cat

This video goes out to Brian who has the Wildlife Intrigued blog. Although Brian’s photography is exemplary, he has more than once mentioned having some fear and mistrust of felines. Spunk, the Wild Cat, will certainly confirm Brian’s suspicions. However, we cannot assume all cats are alike based on Spunk’s behavior.

As you can see from the photo below, Spunk helped me put the video together and approves the content in the video. He certifies the authenticity of all his wild catness depicted in the above video.

Wild Cat
Parody Lyrics: Timothy Price
Music by The Troggs

Wild cat
You stomped my heart flat
You make everything scary
Wild cat

Wild cat, you know I want you
To lie on my lap and purr
So come and curl up alright?
I want you

Wild cat
You stomped my heart flat
You make everything scary
Wild cat

Wild cat, why did you claw on me?
I know I petted your fur
Please don’t kill me alright?
You’re toothy

Wild cat
You stomped my heart flat
You make everything scary
Wild cat

Go on, go on, wild cat.
Oh don’t shake your tail. Oh please? Don’t shake your tail!
Oh! You shook your tail!

Big Balled Wizard

I made this video in 2017 with some really bloody awful vocals. I just recorded a new vocal track and updated the vocals so now they are just plain bloody awful.

Silver: “Ah! Oh my! You had to remind me!” Loki: “It was a sad time for both of us. I got blackballed or de-blackballed on the same sad day if you recall.

Sunset looking east

Sunset looking west

Big Balled Wizard

Music: Pete Townshend
Lyrics: Timothy Price
Vocals: AWB
Silver Kitty: Silver
Vet: Anonymous

When he was a young cat
He had big silver balls
He laid out on the counter
On display to one and all
Ain’t seen nothing like them
In any amusement hall

So guess what the vet did?
She cut off his silver balls.

He laid there like Adonis
He licked his silver things
Feeling proud and smug
He always kept them clean
His pride and intuition
He showed them off to all

So guess what the vet did?
She cut off his silver balls.

He was a big balled wizard
But with an evil twist
The big balled wizard he lost his catliness

Why did we have to do it
I don’t know
His balls they looked so good

He didn’t have no distractions
Didn’t care about buzzers and bells
Surgery lights were flashing
He thought he was in hell
Doesn’t want a replay
He never saw them fall

So guess what the vet did?
She cut off his silver balls.

So we had to take on the big bally king
We just took away his big ball crown from him

When he lays out on the table
He doesn’t get no rest
He’s cute when he’s all sprawled out
You can see he’s lost his best
His tail’s like a crazy weiner
He never saw them fall…

So guess what the vet did?
She cut off his silver balls.

MAD about Lovely Missile’s Garden

No comment… #9 by Anakreon Kanavakis.

Lovely Missile’s Garden

Inspired by No Comment… #9 by Anakreon Kanavakis above. Lyrics by Timothy Price. Music by The Beatles.

The above sketch by Anakreon Kanavakis brought back memories of growing up during the Cold War when Mr. Kanavakis drew this sketch. The doctrine of Mutually Assured Destruction (MAD) was all the rage for waging a Cold War. MAD is the theory of deterrence based on the idea that if enemies have equal abilities to annihilate each other, the equilibrium will deter said enemies from launching nuclear strikes against one or the other. The proliferation of bombs and missiles was a constant source of fear and concern during the Cold War which Mr. Kanavakis illustrates so well in his sketch.

Keep in mind that Athens, Greece, where Mr. Kanavakis worked for newspapers, is much closer to Russia than the United State. I will dare to guess that the fear of annihilation from the Soviet Union was more poignant in Greece than in the USA at that time, yet doomsday seemed to be always at hand everywhere.

When I saw Marina’s post with No Comment… #9 on her anmar blog, first thing this morning, I commented with the first few lines that came to mind. Soon after that I wrote the rest of the lyrics and turned the initial inspiration into a complete parody called Lovely Missile’s Garden (lyrics at the end of the post) to the music of Octopuses Garden by The Beatles. When inspiration strikes, I take action before the inspiration slips away. After writing the lyrics, I found an instrumental version of Octopuses Garden. Between various chores, I recorded the parody and sent it off to Marina for her approval and permission to use No Comment… #9.

I took this photo yesterday. It seems fitting for today’s theme.

On April 9, 1999, after President Clinton dropped bombs on the Serbs without informing Russia, Russian President Bois Yeltsin threatened to nuke Europe. We lived in Madrid, Spain at that time and saw Yeltsin on the news making his threats. It made me think of Nikita Khrushchev’s “We will bury you!” statement in 1956 (I was not born yet). We were worried about the whole affair, but all our Spanish friends were “Meh!” Some of our friends had done their military duty with Russian troops and said that most everything the Russians had was broken down and didn’t work. They didn’t think the Russian’s bombs were capable of exploding.

Lovely Missile’s Garden
Inspiration: Anakreon Kanavakis
Parody Lyrics: Timothy Price
Music: The Beatles

I like to be, watering bombs you see
In a lovely missile’s garden in the shade
I know I’d win, because I’ve been
Watering missile’s garden in the shade
I have no friends who want to be
Watering my missile’s garden with me

I like to be, watering bombs you see
In a lovely missile’s garden in the shade

It would be warm (Oh so warm), from the storm (From the storm)
A little blast-a-way and big shock wave (Boom! Boom!)
No resting our heads (Our heads), we’d all be dead (Oh no!)
A missile garden will make our grave (So sad!)
We would not sing or dance around
Annihilation would be profound

I like to be, watering bombs you see
In a lovely missile’s garden in the shade

Without a doubt (No doubt!) we’d be blown about (All about!)
Echoes fall beneath the blasting waves (So many waves!)
There’s no more Joy (Killed Joy), no girls or boys (No girls or boys?)
Knowing there’s nothing left but empty space (So much space).
No happiness for you and me
No one left to tell us what to do

I like to be, watering bombs you see
In a lovely missile’s garden in the shade

I like to be, watering bombs you see
In a lovely missile’s garden in the shade

Mi Taco Su Taco

A food truck called Mi Taco Su Taco parked in front of our new office this morning. I thought it might be a regular thing. Being Tuesday and having a Taco Truck in front of the office, I texted Bruce to let him know there was a Taco Truck out front if he wanted to come into the office for “Taco Tuesday!” He came in and went out and got in line to discover that the food truck was there for a special occasion for the Humana insurance group. Bruce had to wait until all of “Humanaty” got their tacos so Mi Taco Su Taco could account for all the tacos Humana’s staff had eaten. Then Bruce was able to get some of the leftover tacos. He brought me a couple of leftover tacos. They weren’t bad after I picked all the cilantro out them. “¡No me gusta cilantro¡”

Seeing the food truck reminded me of a parody I wrote and recorded back in 2017 called “Brewpubs And Food Trucks” to Strawberry Alarm Clock’s Incense and Peppermints that I never posted. The parody was inspired by the boom of brewpubs in Albuquerque at that time and all the food trucks that parked by the brewpubs. Now that brewpubs are open again, I see a lot of the food trucks outside the brewpubs. The food trucks offer a good service for people to get food to go with their beer and wine without having to go into a building.

I thought about redoing the vocals, but I recorded it long before I started using PreSonus Studio One. I used MixPad in 2017, and now the latest version of MixPad can’t open the old files. Therefore, you can listen to the bloody awful original version or choose to skip it.

The song really illustrates the reason we moved out of downtown. Things were not good in 2017. “ART” in the song is “Albuquerque Rapid Transit” a total public transit boondoggle rammed down Burqueños’ throats that interrupted businesses and ruined Central Ave, (Old Route 66) from the westside of Albuquerque to “Nobhill” just east of the University of New Mexico. Downtown only got worse and continues its downhill slide. You can follow along with the Lyrics that can be found after the kitty photos and comments.

Brewpubs And Food Trucks

Music: Strawberry Alarm Clock. Parody Lyrics: Timothy Price

Sasha: “Are you kidding me? A taco truck and another BAP?”

Spunk: “What’s that you say? Another BAP about ‘brew huhbubs and taco trucks’?”

Tesla: “AAAaaarrrgh! NOOoooo! Not another bloooody aawfuulll parody!”

Brewpubs And Food Trucks
Parody Lyrics: Timothy Price
Music: Strawberry Alarm Clock

ART sense, nonsense, spare me a dime
Drama queens, silly things, undefinable crime
Fashion drinkers, homeless drunks, boggle your mind
Brewpubs, food trucks, signs of the time

Who cares for things we do
If there’s little for me and nothing for you

Brewpubs, food trucks, gurgling sound
Turn off, tune out, we need to look around
Look at the wealth, look at the wealth, yeah, yeah
Look at the wealth, look at the wealth, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Our polls have divided our world in two
Thrown us off to the side, middle finger screw you
Politicians choke their chickens, nothing is new
A house full of lunatics with a bad point-of-view

Who cares for things we do
If there’s little for me and nothing for you

ART sense, nonsense, spare me a dime
Drama queens, silly things, undefinable crime
Fashion drinkers, homeless drunks, boggle your mind
Brewpubs, food trucks, signs of the time

Who cares for things we do
If there’s little for me and nothing for you

Brewpubs and food trucks
Brewpubs and food trucks

A Country Song

Spunk relaxing in on the deck rail this afternoon.

Two-Stepping To Nowhere

Music: Ron Blood & Joel Lewis. Arrangement: Joel Lewis. Rhythm Guitar: Joel Lewis. 2nd Guitar: Timothy Price. Bass: Timothy Price. Drums: Mark Simma.

Spunk: “NOOooooo! Not that stupid country song!!!”

Two-Stepping To Nowhere is a collaboration between Ron Blood, Joel Lewis, Mark Simma, and I. Ron sent Joel tracks with a bass line and Mark Simma’s drum track. Joel wanted to make a country song, so he slowed it down, which messed up the bass line, so he took out the bass. He recorded the rhythm tracks with the drum tracks playing a semi-hollow body Tele, if I remember correctly, and sent the song to Ron and me. I listened to the song, lyrics popped into my head, I wrote them down, went into the studio, added a vocal track, and sent the song with vocals back to Joel and Ron a couple of hours after Joel had sent the rhythm guitar and drum tracks. Later I added the twangy 2nd guitar playing my Black Tele, and a new bass line. It’s a really silly song, as you can see by Spunk’s reaction above. But it’s fun and funny. The lyrics are at the bottom of the post if you want to follow along.

Spunk taking over my lunch back before I got it packed this morning.

Spunk: “And YOU thing cat herding is really tough!”

Spunk: “Oh Gwedolyn! Did you really need to break wind?”

Silver planning his attack for after I turn out the lights.

A little before sunset tonight.

Two-Stepping To Nowhere
Music: Ron Blood & Joel Lewis
Arrangement: Joel Lewis
Rhythm Guitar: Joel Lewis
2nd Guitar: Timothy Price
Bass: Timothy Price
Drums: Mark Simma

I barfed on my cat today
He was pissed. It’s always the other way
I dragged myself out of bed
Stepped on cats trying to get them all fed
The life of a cat herder is really tough
No one ever seems to get enough

Chorus
It’s like trying to glide
Across the dance floor
When all you do is a slide
Two-Steppin’ to nowhere

I got myself made up and dandy
Going to go dancing and find some candy
A lovely chica got me out on the floor
She looked real nice she knew the score
But it was just my dumb luck
I drove my car, I had left my viagra in the pickup truck

Chorus
It’s like trying to glide
Across the dance floor
When all you do is a slide
Two-Steppin’ to nowhere

Out in the truck to do some shoppin’
The County station was down,
I had to listen to a dude named Chopin
It’s hard on a fella and his imaging
When the country chicas could hear
The wussy music he was listening to

Chorus
It’s like trying to glide
Across the dance floor
When all you do is a slide
Two-Steppin’ to nowhere

I barfed on my cat today
He was pissed. It’s always the other way
I dragged myself out of bed
Stepped on cats trying to get them all fed
The life of a cat herder is really tough
No one ever seems
No one ever seems
No one ever seems to get enough

Dancing Daze

The Dance Floor Lyrics and Music by Timothy Price

The Dance Floor is an original song I wrote and recorded recently. It’s a song reminiscent of the days when people could gather together, dance, and put on whatever charm they could muster in attempts to go beyond the dance floor. Maybe Dancing Daze will make a comeback.

After another long day of dismantling the old office, configuring VPNs, and breaking into the WiFi units in the new office building and configuring them, I did manage to get out to see Mama Owl and Daddy Owl after I got home at sunset. I couldn’t see Mama Owl in her hole when I got in view, but I called her, and she gave me an ear tuft up to let me know she was still steadfast on her nest. Daddy Owl was gazing out at the bosque and gave me half eyes over his shoulder for my calling out to Mama Owl.

Speaking of chicks, I did see a few on my way to and from my visit to the owls. Our mini daffy’s bloomed.

Towhee

Sparrow

 

Kitten Party

Kitten Party Lyrics by Timothy Price, Music by Rick Nelson

Since I worked for 10.5 hours moving stuff, building shelves and desks, and then another hour testing and troubleshooting the new VPN, I’m posting another parody. Lyrics are below the photo of a kitten party.

The kittens partying with Sasha.

Kitten Party
Lyrics by Timothy Price
Music by Rick Nelson

I went to a Kitten party to see my old cool cats
A chance to purr, meow and spray and chase some rats
When I got to the kitten party the black cats looked the same
Jumping and bouncing all around they were really quite insane

The kittens are uptight now, they’re rolling all around
You see, the old cats they growl and hiss, so the kittens want a kiss

Tomcats came from miles around, the kittens were in heat
Oh no there’s a bobcat, who we don’t want to meet
The kittens ran all over, pouncing on their treats
Taxidermied mice with silly eyes looking like mousie freaks

The kittens are uptight now, they’re energy abounds
You see, the old cats want pay to play because the kittens they are strays

Kittens-meow-meow-meow, Kittens-meow-meow-meow

The kittens have some odd times, but they don’t really care
They attack one another, with tactics that seem unfair
Tried making up a kitty haiku, seven, five, and three
They knocked the syllables out like Spunk, quite hilariously

The kittens are uptight now, they’re jumping up and down
You see, the old cats they don’t want to see because the kittens won’t let them be

Kittens-meow-meow-meow, Kittens-meow-meow-meow-meow
Kittens-meow-meow-meow-meow, Meow-meow-meow

Someone opened up the side door and in stepped Bucky cat
Followed by Garfield, Odie, Satchel Pooch, and a great big spat!
If you’re going to a kitten party, you will get all scratched up
You think you’ll make it out alive, all I have to say is good luck

The kittens are uptight now, they pounce in one bound
You see, the old cats all they do is frown, and slap the kittens around

Kittens-meow-meow-meow-meow, Kittens-meow-meow
Kittens-meow-meow-meow

The kittens are uptight now, they’re meowing all around
You see, the old cats won’t play with anyone else, so the kittens play with themselves

Bloody Binding Queen

After a long week starting to moving into our new office building, WordPress giving all kinds of trouble again, and getting my second vaccine against covid cooties this morning, I’m feeling like how this poor frost-bitten tulip looks.

Bloody Binding Queen Lyrics by Timothy Price. Music by Abba

I can’t think of anything better for a Friday night at the end of a long week than a bloody awful parody about our Bloody Binding Queen. At the end of last month, Erma was compiling thousands of pages of final reports for facility condition assessments, punching and assembling them into a whole bunch of binders. She kept getting paper cuts and used up all the bandaids we had in the office. I told her she was a “Bloody Binding Queen!” The light went on. After I got home that night, I found the music for “Dancing Queen” by Abba, wrote the parody lyrics (see the lyrics at the end of the post), learned the song, recorded the parody, and sent it to Erma. She was pleased because that was the first song ever done for her.

Since we have had hard frosts the last few nights our tulips are looking like bloody binding queens all frost-bitten and shriveled up. I finally got the IT Department’s office in order, and I got various cuts and bled in the process. We also got Internet, a new alarm system and new tile in the kitchen, copier room and workroom in the new building. So we’ve made a lot of progress.

Looking into the IT office from the door to the office.

Another sad tulip

Bruce’s desk

A Vulture heard there was a bloody binding queen and started circling overhead.

My desk

Dale’s Peach Tree is blooming

Dede’s desk

Daddy owl watching

Looking out into the open work area where multiple workstations will go from my desk.

Mama Owl peeking

Bloody Binding Queen
Lyrics by Timothy Price
Music by ABBA

Ooh, you can bind, in the grind
Compiling the papers you find
Ooh, see the girl, with the punch machine
Bleeding the binding queen

Friday night and it’s time to go
Look at the papers not that low
Where they are piled high in the binders rings
Although a vegan might go to a Burger King

Look at the clock and you sigh
It’s getting old paper piled high
With a final push, you can meet the deadline
You’re in the mood to dance
But there’s not a chance

You’re a binding queen
A paper cut from page seventeen
Bloody binding queen
Hear the grind of pages shredding
Oh, crap

You can bind, in the grind
Compiling the pages you find
Ooh, see the girl, with the punch machine
Bleeding the binding queen

You’re a wheezer, from paper spawn
The cuts are burning the bleeding goes on
Looking for another plaster anyone will do
You’re in the mood to dance

Look at the clock and you sigh
It’s getting old paper piled high
With a final push, you can meet the deadline
You’re in the mood to dance
But there’s not a chance

You’re a binding queen
A paper cut from page seventeen
Bloody binding queen
Hear the grind of pages shredding
Oh, crap

You can bind, in the grind
Compiling the pages you find
Ooh, see the girl, with the punch machine
Bleeding the binding queen

Bleeding the binding queen

Wood Duck Daze

When I went out on a walk this morning, I found Daddy Owl in the tree he sits in when he watches over the owlets. Mama Owl’s ear tufts barely stuck up above the edge of the hole in the tree. A few cranes flew over close to the tops of the cottonwood trees. Most of the cranes have headed north. Only a few cranes are holding out.

Then I saw something moving in the cottonwoods. It was a female Wood Duck hopping and flying around between branches. A male Wood Duck soon followed. That was the first of three pairs of Wood Ducks I saw in the cottonwoods as I walked in the bosque this morning.

A couple of months ago there were some birders looking for the elusive Wood Ducks. I told them they were too early. They looked at me like I was crazy. The birders acted like the Wood Ducks are rare. Well, they were quite rare in the middle of the winter, but they are not rare now.

I took a lot of photos of the Wood Duck pairs. I was thinking about the best way to show a lot of Wood Duck photos and decided I’d write a song and put the photos to music. The song is not very polished, but I had fun doing it. I hope you enjoy Wood Duck Daze and the all photos of the Wood Ducks.

 

La La La La Llorona

I presented my paper Quinientos años de lágrimas: The persistence of La Llorona — 16th Century to Present at The 52nd Annual Convention of the Northeast Modern Language Association this afternoon. The convention was scheduled to be held in Philadelphia, PA, but like so many things in our world of covid cooties, the organizers decided it was best to do a virtual conference. That was a wise decision, but it certainly changes the dynamics of a conference. I thought it was fitting to add the above parody I posted last year.

The last warning sliver moon in March.Sasha: “Do you like my La Llorona eyes?”

Marble: “No Sasha! This is how you make La Lorona eyes!”

Neither of you has it right. You need to be crying. Sasha & Marble: “Cats don’t cry! Stupid La Llorona!”

Silver: “La Llorona? Meh!”

Spunk: “No stinking La Llorona will get to me behind these bars!”

Glenda: “What’s that you say?”

“La la la La Llorona?”

Loki: “I’m not impressed!”

“Talk to the paws and claws La Llorona!”

Gwendolyn: “Yeah! Talk to the paws!”

Daddy Owl: “I don’t see no stinking La Llorona! What’s that you say? La Llorona can shapeshift into an owl? Ha ha ho ho hoo who. That’s a Hoot!”