Science Fiction – Animated Version | By Douglas Wilson from Roman Roads Media on Vimeo.
A Song From Way Back
Since my mom passed away a couple years ago, my dad has been clearing out a lot of stuff. One of the things he found were the lyrics of a song I had written for her seventieth birthday. No idea what the chords or melody were, but the lyrics were sung in such a way as to actually fit.
The Bessie Blues
In 1919 in the usual way
Bessie Dodds arrived on her own birthday,
The very soul of punctuality,
“Here’s your coat, Jim, wouldn’t you agree?”
This plucky little girl’s gonna beat the odds—
We’re talking ‘bout a girl named E.C. Dodds.
She went forward at the CMA,
And her conversion lasted to this day,
Even though she thought it was the preacher’s hand
That got her into the promised land.
This feisty little Christian’s gonna beat the odds—
We’re talking ‘bout a woman named E.C. Dodds.
She did not remain in the great white north,
She heard God’s call and she sallied forth.
There were trials; she won’t slip on these,
As she goes to preach the gospel to the Nipponese.
This missionary’s gonna beat the odds—
We’re talking ‘bout a lady named E.C. Dodds.
She came to that country shortly after the war,
Little realizing what was waiting in store.
When Jim came around, he was told to get lost,
But he thought Canadians were supposed to have frost.
This married little lady’s gonna make my rhyme worse—
We’re talking ‘bout a woman named E.C. Wilson . . . blank verse.
Back in the States, she reared three sons
No more, no less—they were the only ones,
Except for the daughter, I was getting to that,
Who, like father Noah, landed Ararat.
This little lady taught her daughter quite well—
If you can, get a man, whose name you can’t even spell.
Down through the years, there were trying days,
But in the Daily Light, God spoke in divers ways.
She kept her family as strong as you please
With prayer and faith and macaroni and cheese.
This little woman’s gonna beat the odds—
We’re talking ‘bout a lady whose maiden name used to be Dodds.
I went down to the paperback store
Where I saw a pile of romances galore.
I said to the clerk, “Do folks read this stuff?”
She said that my mother just can’t get enough.
This little lady’s just plain out of luck,
Cause no one she knows is quite like Regency Buck.
So now we come to three score and ten,
She’s got her hymns picked out and wants God to say when.
She’s still the soul of punctuality
Cause she’ thirty years early, wouldn’t you agree?
This little lady has beaten the odds
She wound up a Wilson, but only cause she started a Dodds.
And Now, Calling on Another Skill Set
So here is the second round of our contest. I am calling on anyone with the capability of making music videos, and the requisite desire, to make one using this song, and to YouTube it (or the equivalent), and post the link in this space by the 17th of August. The winner, again, will receive $250, and the runners-up will receive free health care for life.
The Winnah!
Congratulations to Tim Bushong for winning our “save the republic” song contest in recording “The Ballad of John Roberts.” You can take a listen here, and a check is on the way. Despite how it sounds the check is not going to Australia. There were some other creditable entries, which you can find here, and I commend them to you. Many thanks to you all for your participation.
The lyrics are below again, if you need them as you listen.
The Ballad of John Roberts
John Roberts wrote some schizo words,
The nation puzzled long.
Whatever could the problem be?
And so we wrote this song.
Oh ho, oh no, the nation puzzled long.
Did he just buy ten bricks of coke
From a man named Escobar?
And did not see the cameraman
Who works the Midnight Star?
Oh ho, oh no, a man named Escobar.
Did he cavort with honeys blonde?
The yacht club kind, with legs?
Or did he find some offshore bank
For his financial eggs?
Oh ho, oh no, the yacht club kind with legs.
Is “Roberts” just an alias?
Is that man on the lam?
Did he shoot down in coldest blood
A man in Birmingham?
Oh ho, oh no, that man in Birmingham.
Or did he dump some toxic waste
Along a sandy beach,
Which then the greens and crazies used
To blackmail overreach?
Oh ho, oh no, that blackmailed overreach.
Or is he not part Cherokee?
As we so long believed?
And did he pad his resume
With purloined recipes?
Oh ho, oh no, he ain’t no Cherokee.
But we have found the sordid truth,
Which just Obama knew.
They shared a nursery long ago,
That sorry Kenyan crew.
Oh ho, oh no, that sorry Kenyan crew.
So let this be a lesson, lads,
If you would justice know,
Don’t ever nominate a man
With honeys, guns, or blow
Oh ho, oh no, with honeys, guns, or blow.
Announcement of Important “Save the Republic” Song Contest
We know that a bunch of you out there have recording equipment available, and perhaps some rudimentary skills with the banjo. I would like to take this opportunity to announce a recording contest — write and record a version of the lyrics below (alterations are allowable, but it must remain recognizably the same song, and not veer into bawdiness). Post a link to your version of the song in the comments section by July 20, and our incorruptible judges will award $250 dollars to the first prize winner. All the runners up will receive free health care for life. Note for the satirically impaired: this is not what you think it is.
The Ballad of John Roberts
John Roberts wrote some schizo words,
The nation puzzled long.
Whatever could the problem be?
And so we wrote this song.
Oh ho, oh no, the nation puzzled long.
Did he just buy ten bricks of coke
From a man named Escobar?
And did not see the cameraman
Who works the Midnight Star?
Oh ho, oh no, a man named Escobar.
Did he cavort with honeys blonde?
The yacht club kind, with legs?
Or did he find some offshore bank
For his financial eggs?
Oh ho, oh no, the yacht club kind with legs.
Is “Roberts” just an alias?
Is that man on the lam?
Did he shoot down in coldest blood
A man in Birmingham?
Oh ho, oh no, that man in Birmingham.
Or did he dump some toxic waste
Along a sandy beach,
Which then the greens and crazies used
To blackmail overreach?
Oh ho, oh no, that blackmailed overreach.
Or is he not part Cherokee?
As we so long believed?
And did he pad his resume
With purloined recipes?
Oh ho, oh no, he ain’t no Cherokee.
But we have found the sordid truth,
Which just Obama knew.
They shared a nursery long ago,
That sorry Kenyan crew.
Oh ho, oh no, that sorry Kenyan crew.
So let this be a lesson, lads,
If you would justice know,
Don’t ever nominate a man
With honeys, guns, or blow
Oh ho, oh no, with honeys, guns, or blow.
A Really Important Virtue, In Fact
Many thanks to those of you who entered the Psalm-Off deal. We had some really good ones. We hope to announce something by Friday, August 19, 2011. Because we (meaning I) didn’t specify what particular electronic form the submissions should take, we have had a few headaches trying to get all the submissions to all our judges. We are almost there, and so along with our thanks to all who participated, we would also remind you that patience is a virtue.
Psalm Off Entries
Gentlemen,
Thank you for agreeing to participate as a judge in our Psalm-Off contest. Below are links to the various entries. The last one (Ps. 124) is from me, and not to be considered as an entry. It is included here for your listening pleasure alone.
With all the others, please rate each song according to the following criteria:
X — please don’t let anybody hear this
XX — make public, with thanks
XXX — honorable mention
XXXX — if Canon bundles a collection of these psalms for sale, this should be included
XXXXX — if Canon could see its way to offering these guys an album deal of their own, that would grand.
And you can email your evaluations to me, and I will average them all (dougwils@christkirk.com). Thanks.
Here they are:
Alan Burrow — Psalm 42
Everlasting Word Band — Psalm 42
Thomas Bailey — Psalm 136
Miguel Ruiz — Psalm 130
Bill Stutzman — Psalm 29
Holly Zahller — Psalm 150
Clint Hughes — Psalm 19
Brother Down — Psalm 13
Brother Down — Psalm 75
The Tallismen– Psalm 63
Jenny Geddes Band — Psalm 124
More Recent Vintage
This one was recorded within the last year — my one and only basement tape.
{audio}Watch_the_Sun_Down.mp3{/audio}
A Weed That Grows
This was an early treatment of Hebrews 6. Early for me, I mean.
{audio}PrairieFire.mp3{/audio}
Clean Water Still Runs
In Her Hand in Marriage, there is an appendix that treats the same basic scenario.
{audio}TheRiver.mp3{/audio}
Oh, Yeah, Sez You . . .