Here in the US of A, all states, with the exception of Arizona, Hawaii, and some of the territories, will change to Daylight Savings Time at Two O’Clock in the wee hours of the morning in the year of our Lord March the Twelfth, Two-Thousand Twenty-Three. That’s tomorrow for me, today for some of you, and yesterday for others.
Since I will have to get up to pee at 02:00, I will be squealing “Ewe Oui Wee Wee!” all the way to the bathroom since I will be holding it in an extra hour since the time will be springing forward an hour at 02:00 (making it 03:00) when I will get up to go. I hope I make it.
I wrote, recorded, and posted The Dreaded DST near the end of March last year without a video after Marina Kanavaki complained about “the dreaded DST” (Greece changes later than the US of A). This year, I used AI to generate all the images for the video. I incorporated ChatGPT’s DALL-E 2 together with Draw Things, Fotor AI, Craiyon, and Night Cafe to generate and gather the images for the video this go around. I only insulted DALL-E 2’s rather sensitive ethical and moral standards a couple of times asking it to create images based on the lyrics for The Dreaded DST. However, I ran out of credits to ask the AI apps to draw things rather quickly on everything but Draw things, which I have unlimited credits with (DT likes my credit score).
The Dreaded DST Lyrics and Music by Timothy Price Inspired by Marina Kanavaki
Daylight blinds fools who have no skills They create silly rules they are so unreal Daylight’s scarce, why don’t we care? We save it eight months out of… every year
Bedtime at ten feels like nine Don’t feel sleepy? Have more wine It’s midnight damn, the bottle’s empty I’m still awake… I’m feeling pretty cranky
Now we’re on the dreaded DST Body clocks are broken why can’t we see That hour we save every single day Is two-hundred forty hours of daylight that we have… stashed away
Alarm at five it feels like four Like a zombie, I hit the door Preparation-H on the old toothbrush Toothpaste up my… Whew! What a rush
No time to shower, sleepin’ on the job, Stinkin’ up the office, what a slob Head bobs up and down, fishing at the screen My boss is cranky… making quite a scene
Now we’re on the dreaded DST Body clocks are broken why can’t we see We can look forward to falling back We get one hundred twenty hours of daylight from… our stash
We’ve changed to DST for 56 years That’s six-thousand seven-hundred hours, my dear Of daylight, we’ve been banking away So let’s go spend it on our… sanity
Now we’re on the dreaded DST Body clocks are broken why can’t we see That hour we save every single day Is two-hundred forty hours of daylight that we have… stashed away
A Blue Psalm was first published by Gabriela Marie Milton in 2021. I wrote the poem in response to bloggers who wrote about the horrific abuse they experienced growing up and how difficult it is for them to deal with it as adults. I recently reworked the original song with new vocal tracts. I used some butterfly photos (mine) and videos I borrowed from the Internet as metaphors for people who have been abused.
A Blue Psalm Lyrics and Music by Timothy Price
Oh, Lord? Oh Lord? Why have you hated me? How in my innocence Have I sinned? To be damned from birth Neglected and abused While you looked on Like I was nothing more Than the Devil’s spawn I am broken, so broken A pile of bones laid at your feet Show mercy, oh Lord Mold me, reshape me, make me whole I want to feel loved, normal, happy, whole
This music video uses my light-hearted metal song of the same name. Hmm! A light-hearted metal song might just be an oxymoron. The song came about after a discussion with JYP about how there is so much nonsense in the world and how some people accuse us of being simpletons for not understating nonsense.
Simple Is As Simpletons Can Be Words and Original Music by Timothy Price
[verse] simple is as simpletons can be complex meanings we can’t see simple is as simpletons can be oh how big words make us freeze simple is as simpletons can be reciting poems makes us wheeze simple is as simpletons can be we have trouble with the ABCs
[chorus] No alliteration; we can’t rhyme words No counting syllables, no action verbs Confuse the Sonnets with Ebonics And the Tankas with the trucks We can’t reflect on the Palindromes Or the messages in Acrostic poems
[bridge] I grew up reading comics like “Spy vs Spy” No nouns or verbs in the storylines Sketches on pages, each worth a thousand words Prefer poetry in pics for the visual nerds
[verse] simple is as simpletons can be oh how the deep folks like to tease simple is as simpletons can be they say we’re dense like the trees simple is as simpletons can be we may be dense, but at least we are free of deep thoughts, worries, anxieties, stress…
[chorus] No alliteration; we can’t rhyme words We can’t count syllables, no action verbs Confuse the Sonnets with Ebonics And the Tankas with the trucks We can’t reflect on the Palindromes Or the messages in Acrostic poems
I published Silence Of The Frogs as a poem in 2017 when I was blogging on T & L Photos. I made the poem into a song last summer. It’s a different style from Time To Move Onthat I posted on Friday.
I was having a conversation about groups that do covers and recording with Elizabeth Ramos on her post with a cover of “Smooth” by Rob Thomas, and Carlos Santana called In Performance With The Presleys at Through The Viewfinder. I mentioned recording Sleeping With A Stinky Cat and looked for the post I thought I had done, to discover I had not done a post with the song.
One night close to bedtime about three months ago, Spunk came running in from the catio. As he tore by me at full speed, I caught the full-on aroma of what had happened. Spunk got sprayed by a skunk that had slipped through the wire into the catio. Skunks are like snakes in that they can squeeze their bodies through almost anything their head fits through. A small skunk can easily slip through the 2×4 inch wire that covers the catio. After we got Spunk cleaned up the best we could, he had to sleep with me while he cleaned himself up during the night. He didn’t smell by morning, but when we went to bed, he was ripe with skunk spray. The experience inspired me to write and record Sleeping With A Stinky Cat. The song is played in a funk style.
Sleeping With A Stinky Cat By Timothy Price
Spunk met a skunk, yeah In the catio, no Got a blast in the face Oh that sent him on a race
He ran around the house like the devil on his tail Stinking up the place making everyone’s life hell
Now I have to sleep with a stinky cat Spunk needed comfort after the attack Now I have to sleep with a stinky cat My eyes are burning oh, Spunk is such a brat Lying on the bed, curled in a ball Sleeping with a stinky cat is no fun at all
I wiped his face, yeah Wrapped him in a towel, oh We rinsed his eyes at best Trying to reduce the stress
Spunk struggled, and he hissed, used his claws and fangs no less Scratches, bites to end the stress, I ended up a bloody mess
Now I have to sleep with a stinky cat Spunk needed comfort after the attack Now I have to sleep with a stinky cat My eyes are burning oh, Spunk is such a brat Lying on the bed, Spunk curled in a ball Sleeping with a stinky cat is no fun at all
The first full moon of 2023, the Wolf Moon, rose this evening, January 6th, which happens to be Epiphany. I wrote and recorded a song for the occasion and put together the above music video to celebrate the Wolf Moon.
Once Upon A Wolf’s Winter Moon Lyrics and Music by Timothy Price
[Verse1] Winter sky sad sulked at dusk’s fall Darkness fell, embraced cold world Breezes whispered oh so softly Warnings of impending doom
[Verse2] Ambushed by cold winter’s wanting Wicked wind, frost bit hard Frozen souls hung in the balance Gods cast dice; who lives or dies
[Chorus] Red eyes stared, pierced the darkness Gravelly growls from all around A chorus of howls split the heavens Once upon a wolf’s winter moon Once upon a wolf’s winter moon
[Verse3] Wolf Moon rested, washed by dawn Sunrise melted the seventh seal Time stood still, stopped, and listened Sound of silence, dark, unreal
[Verse4] Overcome eternal darkness Help us! Save us! Came the cries Wolves howled, moon tried to warn us You’re strangled and consumed by lies
[Bridge] Wolves howled at the full moon Waking ghosts from gelid sleep Giving life to frozen souls Broken-free as winter weeps
[Chorus] Red eyes stared, pierced the darkness Gravelly growls from all around A chorus of howls split the heavens Once upon a wolf’s winter moon Once upon a wolf’s winter moon
I was out on the Rio Grande at Beaver Point last month when I heard motorcycles racing on I-25. The motorcycles were very loud and very clear. I recorded the motorcycles, wrote and recorded the song, “All Revved Up”, and I finally got around to borrowing enough video snippets from YouTube to make the above music video. Below is a map of where I was standing and approximately where the motorcycles were racing on I-25 when I made the recording.
Sound carries very well from the Interstate to Corrales. Often the cars, trucks, and motorcycles sound like they are on the ditch bank 500 feet from the house.
All Revved Up By Timothy Price
[Verse 1] I’m all revved up Yeah! So cool On my motorcycle No fool Donuts, wheelies, smoking tires Screamin’ like a demon shot out of hell fire
[Chorus] Centerline slalom whiteline fever Lighting fast, intense street sweeper Dragging demons, cheating the Reaper
[Verse 2] Black leather jacket Is so cool Motorcycle boots No fool Don’t you wanna record all the action Flawless riding satisfaction
[Chorus] Centerline slalom whiteline fever Lighting fast, intense street sweeper Dragging demons, cheating the Reaper
[Bridge – Rap] Revving my engine while I’m sitting at a red light Greenlight, smoking tire the power grab is out of sight Three-second speed rush slamming on the brakes tight Revving my engine, oh those vibes feel so right.
[Guitar Solo]
[Verse 3] Red lights flashing That’s not cool One-hundred-sixty You fool Tucked on the tank, giving it my all Still got caught, slammed up against the wall
[Outro] Redneck motha in the clink, err Slowpoke and depressed cell sweeper Lonely, longing, befriends the Reaper