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2004-04-12 9:25 AM a poem (because it's poetry month, or something) Read/Post Comments (0) |
Also, I think there should be a moratorium on how many different months of awareness or recognition or declaration one little month can be. Are these months randomly chosen? Is there squinting at calendars and comparison? Do the people who decide which month they're going to attempt to change into their cause celebre month look at the other causes celebre already month-squatting and decide they can live with them?
(I suggest you click on the title and go read this at poetry daily, because the formatting isn't quite right on here though the line breaks are...) Ross Bagdasarian In Rosemary Clooney’s obituary there is a reference to her big hit Come-on-a-My-House which is put forth as an example of the terrible shit she had to sing before she broke through to quality stuff, but I don’t remember it as such a bad song. When I was a kid, I was impressed that the lyrics were written by William Saroyan and his cousin Ross Bagdasarian but I didn’t know then that I would remember the name Ross Bagdasarian for 40 years or so even though I never heard it again until I saw it in Rosemary Clooney’s obituary and also learned that he changed his name to David Seville and founded the Chipmunks, so maybe even he forgot the name Ross Bagdasarian. And when I was a teenager I never expected to have any connection with William Saroyan but now Aram Saroyan occasionally e-mails political jokes to me and I remember reading once that he was up for the part that Dustin Hoffman got in The Graduate, which was the first movie I ever saw in an airplane, flying from Seattle to New York. The movie opens on a tight close-up of Benjamin. You can’t tell he’s on an airplane, so when you hear the captain’s voice saying that they’re approaching Los Angeles, it’s very confusing because you don’t know it’s the movie captain, you think it’s the real captain and you wonder why the hell the plane has been diverted and why they didn’t think to mention it until now and who do I know in Los Angeles and how long will I be there. A whole new life may beckon, a life of glamour and music, hanging out with Rosie and Ross and various singing rodents (Are chipmunks rodents? Look that up. Somebody.) It would beat two days in Seattle, driving around in the drizzle with a superstitious cold canvasser testing a sales talk I wrote. Stop the car! he’d shout, yellow house. I can always make a sale in a yellow house. And Cooper, he could sell anyone named Cooper. How about Hooper, I asked. Yeah, yeah, Hooper’s pretty good, too, but Cooper is a lock. It was a two-syllable world. Come-on-a-my-house my house, I’m gonna give-a you Easter eggs. - Robert Hershon worm: "Cotton," The Mountain Goats today's fave post: Chicha on The Swan namecheck: Alan "Go Read the Latest "Home of the" Installments Right Now" DeNiro Read/Post Comments (0) Previous Entry :: Next Entry Back to Top |
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