My earworm for the past couple of days hasn't been nearly as erudite as any of hers ever were. For that matter, I don't recall any of mine reaching the lofty heights of a Kay earworm! But it's a good one, nevertheless. If you've had the pleasure of Bette Midler's It's the Girls! album, and haven't had an earworm, I've got to wonder about you.
Mine has been One Fine Day, which was made famous by The Chiffons, and on this album it is a raucous version that I defy anyone to listen to with a poker face, much less without getting up to dance. I have to assume the pianist on this one is Randy Kerber, and I have got to tell you, his glissandos just shoot exuberance into the performance. He pounds that piano like crazy, but it's perfect for it.
That earworm also alternates with Bei Mir Bist du Schon, which is utterly cheeky if you pay attention to the back-up singers. (I know - schon needs an umlaut.) It's like the Andrews Sisters on slyness steroids. In other words, classic Midler.
On a completely unrelated topic, today it is good to be Simon. Simon is our nearly 19 year old crabby tabby, the lone survivor of a trio of kittens we brought home from the SPCA 19 years ago in September. They were boys, they were littermates, and for 15 years Barney Reid Jr. (mackerel tabby) ran things. When he crossed the rainbow bridge, the Alpha designation went to Charlie Byrd Sawtelle (tuxedo), much to Simon's shock and dismay. Charlie crossed the bridge last year in October, and Simon has basked in his position as the spoiled brat with no competition.
He's not well, he's rickety, he's demanding (that has been his trademark!), he's still affectionate and we cater to his every whim. This includes letting him out on the screened porch to patrol his perimeter as soon as he's polished off a dollop of Fancy Feast.
This morning there was a battle royal waging among some birds in the vitex tree, which is at the corner of the porch. I went out to see what the ruckus was about, and Simon was sound asleep in his chair. Only my moving around close to him caused him to open one eye. But the racket got his attention, and by the time I came back in with my little birdhouse in hand (the winds had broken off its hanger loop), he was eyeballing that vitex with murder in his feline brain. He jumped down from his chair, tossed a threatening yeowl over his shoulder and went inside for a drink of water. The birds went silent.
I've no doubt his return to his chair and the more subdued avian discussions have given him a deep sense of his own superiority and power over his dominion. Right now he has to be feeling like President Obama over the recent Supreme Court rulings.
And finally, this just in: The Supreme are batting three for three on social issues. As of today, my gay sisters and brothers have the Constitutional right to marry in the United States of America! I have chills, tears of joy and relief and I don't know what all else. Remember when Bette Midler got her start singing in the gay bath houses in New York? Did she ever think this would happen?
Baby, it's you...sha la la la...baby, it's you...