Over the Rainbow

Postponing doing anything useful this morning, I checked out Democracynow.org hoping that they would have reposted an interesting show. They seldom do live shows on major holidays. Then I could play a computer game while listening.

They reposted a favourite of mine...the story behind the song Over the Rainbow and the movie Wizard of Oz. www.democracynow.org/2013/11/28/a_tribute_to_blacklisted_lyricist_yip

When I listened to it originally, it was definitely, "I-didn't-know-that" moment. Like so much in history things change meaning over time.

My personal memories of the song was a wonderful birthday party for my then housemate's father who adored Judy Garland. It was when Laser discs and players were first out.

We bought him the player and the disc, but just giving him the presents would have been too dull. We turned the house into Oz. My daughter was Dorothy, one of the dogs was Toto, Bill was the Wizard, I can't remember whether Susan or I were the witch.

Our dining room became the Emerald Cafe, and we cut out yellow squares and put them on the sidewalk leading up to the house as the yellow brick road.

Needless to say he was surprized.

Harridans anonymous

Although I'm vain, it doesn't bother me all that much that I no longer look the 36 I was when Rick and I met.

However, I do want to look the best I can.

No one would believe my red hair is its natural colour. Although Thanksgiving isn't celebrated in Switzerland--we do--and with plans to go out this evening to a great restaurant for a traditional Thanksgiving dinner, I didn't want to go with white roots.

I've told Rick, he'll never see me with my hair BEING coloured. Love will go only so far. I look like a bloody monster with bloody tentacles going in all directions.

 

Thus when J was at coffee and Rick was still in bed I started the transformation process. While the colour was setting I started checking email. Then Rick opened the door.

GET OUT!!!! GET OUT!!! OFF THE FLOOR!!! OFFFFF THE FLOOOOOOR!

No harridan, no fishwife ever reached this volume. In fact there screaming at people would have seemed dulcet in comparison.

He retreated quickly up the stairs, poor man.

When I was restored to my normal form with my hair blown and makeup on, I took him a piece of chocolate as a peace offering. We each accepted the other's apology. He wasn't to have known what was happening behind that closed door. I could have been a little calmer.

Now I need to attend meetings of both Crumb Anonymous AND Harridan Anonymous.