The Three Stooges Conquer Outer Space July 17, 2021
Posted by voolavex in outer space, outer space, Social Issues.add a comment
It is said that 'you can tell the men from the boys by the price of their toys'. There is a germ of truth to that adage. I look at thrift and Etsy sites online and consider the prices I will pay; my husband looks at $$$$$ audio tubes and equipment. Our "saved lists" reflect this in full. Meanwhile down at the launch pad, three bizillionaires are going to outer space. Whoooo-hoo. And when I say bizillionaires - I mean exactly that. And their intelligence and drive and great innovations earned them all this money in plain site. I will not name them - you likely know who they are. When I say 'outer space' - I mean the place where there is no atmosphere and humans can breathe. I am not a scientist. That's the part I do know. It is a fascinating endeavor to me, but not for the reasons you might imagine. These junkets are VERY expensive. Doing it to prove it can be done is redundant on the whole. We know humans can be launched into space and land on the Moon. QED. The latest efforts however are meant to bravely go where no man has gone before (sorry - they said it best). And then what? Their rocketships are being launched from the planet Earth - so far the only known inhabited planet in the Universe. So far. And this planet is in desparate need of serious help. Humans - or Earthlings, if you prefer, have used it and abused it and its flora and fauna since time immemorial. If you follow Darwin, creatures evolved, eventually stood up and, lacking sense or sensibility, started the damage toute suite. They have not stopped. QED that too. So my question is this: "WTF"? Climate change, rising sea levels, extreme weather. Dried up rivers, rivers overflowing, eroding shorelines and the ever present cries for money and help to SAVE THE PLANET. Overcrowding,lack of adequate care for same. Political oppression, political expression. Hedge funds, market prices and the thread is of course manipulation; grift, graft and greed. Did I mention RACISM? We got it and we got in every color of the spectrum. Lotta' hate on Earth. Why don't these chaps with nothing but money fix us first? Address Earth's emergencies and issues and stop planning their escape. Why not fix it first - or at least try - in a devoted, direct effort rather than perfect a clean getaway? It may be valid, as some say, that many geniuses malfunction in other ways. History has proven this to be more than speculation. And I am certain that the three bizillionaires have indeed invested in the welfare of this planet as well. But there is so much that needs fixing; not to mention the conflicts around the planet that are meant to destroy. Those are not easily or instantly solvable, butjeez guys, while you are fooling around lost in space consider that the money you have spent could be put to a better use. And that while imagining the terraforming of Mars or the Moon and blasting into outer space, you may realize that there's no place like home.
Still #metoo. Yet I Did Wise Up October 27, 2017
Posted by voolavex in common sense, Harvey Weinstein, sex, Social Issues, solutions.Tags: #metoo, ), common sense, Harvey Weinstein, Hollywood, Kirk Douglas’ Driveway., life, sex, women
add a comment
(Please note – these men are all deceased and no names are mentioned)
Back in the halcyon days of Hollywood – when connections could open doors and a pretty girl went out to become a star, I did too. Not a starlet. A star. I was a lazy model, a wife, a mother and a dreamer who frequently thought – “I could do that”. So in the guise of going to Hollywood to check on a house, we held a second on – up in the Bird Streets, I took my daughter and myself and flew to Hollywood for a week. Due to NYC connections of my then spouse, I had entrez to every studio in town – no waiting, valet parking, generosity of time. courtesy and no casting couch. Stayed with a friend who was the most unhelpful director born. Couldn’t, wouldn’t, didn’t even say no. Just didn’t. No help at all. His best moment was driving by Kirk Douglas’ house and saying casually “Oh, Kirk’s finally getting his driveway fixed”. With that gem, I quickly found a hotel and rented a car. I did check on the house stilted high above the fault lines with an excellent view of the city as it was then. (It was on Warbler Way if you are wondering). Before that pivotal moment, however – the day before, I mentioned the name of a well-known studio exec who had a reputation for many things. Elegance, erudition and expecting favors for his time and a possible bit part. I was pleased about it until my friend shakes his head like a yenta and say “Oh, we were roommates when we first came to Los Angeles from NYC, you’re not seeing him I hope?” And I replied I did have his number as a person to call and then I was treated to the entire, blow by blow activities of this power broker and it was pretty graphic, but no big surprise. I assured him that was not gonna happen and he mentioned it more than once and I ignored him. It turned out I did call this bigwig of Hollywood who nonchalantly invited me to his house above Sunset Strip for drinks the next evening and I went!!!! Young, but not eggshell young. I made a simple speech in my head to deliver that involved candor, name-dropping and explaining what I knew and what I had no intention of doing. (And frankly by that time – I was disgusted with the entire town, the “Industry”, whether or not I could act (I couldn’t) and I was about to get outta Dodge the next day. And so I went.
Up Sunset Plaza in my little rented Pinto (yup – Pinto) And up some more and found the house, where I carefully backed into the driveway, put my keys under the seat and went to the door. (Right now you think I was insanely stupid, driven by my “friend’s” paternalistic warnings; more like stubborn and over the movie star thing entirely.) I rang the buzzer; the door opened and there he was in his silk jammies and robe!!!! I swear to God. DId I run. Nooooo. I walked past him, looked him in the eye and said very pleasantly, how do and I have heard all about your casting couch activities and I am not impressed or interested. Everyone I know in this town (drop, drop, drop) knows where I am and (names, dropped, dropped, dropped) and stopped. He said nothing except to ask me what I would like to drink and I asked for a soda. Long silence. But he got one for me and then patted the couch like they like to do (still) and I laughed and all of a sudden, as I sat in a chair, I knew he had gotten it and it had worked. We moved to the kitchen and he made ice cream sundaes and he was indeed erudite and well-educated and we laughed a lot. He told me “it was a shame I was so pretty because what I was, was funny, but no one laughed at a comic who was a pretty girl. I hesitated to mention Carole Landis, Judy Holliday or Myrna Loy. Thanked for the ice cream and drove away to my little hotel room laughing like a maniac. It was in fact, the best part of my week of getting famous (and lucky).Long before fat (yes because he is,) slobbering Harvey got busted for the myriad list of offenses he is accused of and likely did.
I am still a #metoo from more naive days, But not that time. Probably why I recall it so clearly and why I was proud of myself. And why I still laugh and wish I had been able to give a course there and then it to the other #metoos. Maybe back then on Kirk’s fixed driveway. (more…)
Senior? Elder? AARP? Me? June 4, 2017
Posted by voolavex in common sense, marriage, Random thoughts, Social Issues.Tags: AARP, Age, Baby Boomers, books, cats, husband, Internet, life, old ladies, senior
add a comment
I grew up in the Baby Boomer years that began in 1945/46, I went through the usual “phases” that parents like to excuse or accuse their children of entering and leaving. I never lived anywhere long enough to actually develop phases that are memorable now. Food oddities that came and went and too many schools and angst and I suspect it was basically just getting to being “of age” and then it simply moved forward from there. Once I achieved “of age”, I didn’t give it much thought until recently. Now I realize that I never got the directions on how to be “a certain age” nor the final pamphlet that covered “age”. I am neither crochety nor am I enfeebled. My hair is a good combination of white and mostly dark brown, I am tall and still at a fine weight for my frame. No tweaks, no shots, no lifts – living in the heart of Hollywood can put a smart and still looking good person in morbid fear of the “better face”. It is not better and here you see the sad results of just why it’s not really great idea. I do have crepey skin. Lack of exercise, DNA or too many parties of yore. Leggings, tights and long sleeves are all useful for this condition. I suspect I am getting a bit of arthritis – and it runs in both sides of family and I waited for years to join the clan. A few twinges but nothing that makes me groan or complain. When asked about my age I am usually thrilled with the reaction, as much as I am startled myself when I think about it. I have two adult children and several important friends.
I was raised as a little kid by the “aunts” and my grandmother. When I sat down recently and realized how old they were when I was born, these role models may have brought me to where I am right now. These were old ladies. Two widows and a “maiden” aunt. And their embrace of being elderly was epic. Steel gray hair, blue rinsed hair and touched up hair. Housedresses – the real deal. Corsets. Salmony pink lace-up, hook- up and lift-up boned custom made corsets. And yes I knew how to lace them from any early age. Huge undies, garters, hair nets – from the dime store to contain their always permed hair. Always. My grandmother was the youngest of the three and she was a tad more casual but it was not a visible tad for me. Two of them wore a little lipstick and a bit of rouge – but only on occasions. One never did. Stocking – one wore lisle and the other two wore daytime deniers (January was when they bought them) and each one had a secret place to hide their break luck money. The most memorable was the”budge” neatly folded bills tucked between ample bosoms and the bank, a garter pouch of fine suede where the real money was carried. The other two had change purses or wallets. And they all lived to old age – two past 95.
I realized early on what I had no intention of becoming. I might have become many things but an old lady was not one of them. So as I sit and realize that I do in fact qualify for that term, I have no idea what I am supposed to be. Not a clue. I curse like a sailor, pass comment on everyone and everything, speak my mind (that can be excruciating too) and still want to know more and more about more and more.
I am vain. I improve the landscape with cosmetics and despair of my difficult hair – but I hate to go to the hairdresser. I wear what I have always worn – and it still keeps me au courant style no matter what the courant of the moment is. I cannot wear stilettos. It breaks my heart. And because I am not a French woman I fail at scarves. I must have 100+. Lots of good jewelry I seldom wear – but no bling. Shoes and bags need to be leather, fabric has to be grown fiber and I realize it hasn’t ever been otherwise.
So here I am, entering a phase; dazed and annoyed at things like AARP. Especially AARP. I hate AARP. I hate their condescending advice and presumptuous codified ads that scream “YOU ARE OLD”. We have a wildly unruly source of information now called the Internet – so I do know how to find glasses and Depends and ear trumpets and canes and I’ve fallen buttons. I also have a full-time husband. I hate senior communities. I hate oldster casino trips. Dances for the Decrepit. (or Senior Mixers as they call them or did). I do like Bingo – but not enough to seek it out.
I suspect because I have no grandchildren I can still buy myself toys and play alone. I can frolic as others have babies and grand babies and buy memorable gifts and get photos in return. Is it the life I imagined for myself? The one where I didn’t get old and feeble. Not really, but since I have no idea how to prepare for it (just as I didn’t know how to prepare for marriage, pregnancy, toothaches or nearsightedness). I suspect I will figure it out. But not today.
Well, What Would You Call It????? One Answer. January 7, 2017
Posted by voolavex in common sense, freedom, GOP Choice, LBGT, Mexicans, Putin, Social Issues, solutions, war.add a comment
None dare call it what it is. None dare stop it now?
I will call its name TREASON.
The NYTimes is very stingy when it comes to font size in their headlines. In fact it downplays most headlines as a matter of style the evidence seems to proven (let’s hope). They cut loose today. Not a great sign. So how do we accept a man who has known, abetted or aided in violating the constitution and will send this country into chaos.
A man and his minions who so wanted to win the prize and would do anything it took to get it. Or an easily conned con artist ANYTHING AT ALL. And so they did. It is far too late to ask ‘cui bono’?
Is this an algorithmic coup’d’etat? I am not a hacker so I cannot offer an answer – but I know how it feels to me. And I absolutely believe it can and could be done. Imagine if another major world power did this. We would call out the Marines. We would round-up our forces to show everyone watching that this country is not about allow hacked elections, lies, cheating and treason to our nation friends and allies. Now who shall we call?
This is my burning question is this :
WHAT IS GOING TO BE DONE?
Maybe we should all ask ourselves this question because even those who supported the architect of the coup. Even those chose this dupe should be able to admit this is not quite what Americans as a whole had in mind. Not just the Democrats. ALL of us. Even Snowden and Manning (Those vile monsters who betrayed our country. Those we quickly deplored and put in exile. Are they really traitors? or unsung heroes). Even if you achieve the end of the world we have now, who will you tell? Who will be left to listen.
The clock is ticking citizens of the land. Defenders of the Constitution? And time is running into the gutter. I am not going quietly into this sinkhole. Can I get a witness?
No Matter Who April 10, 2016
Posted by voolavex in common sense, Election 2016, freedom, Horse Racing, Politics, Social Issues, solutions.Tags: bigots, Blue, candidate, Democrats, Election 2016, Loyal Opposition, No Matter Who, Vote Blue
add a comment
Punishment for Abortion -Donald Trump Can Kiss My Ass March 31, 2016
Posted by voolavex in Elections, freedom, guilt, Health, Medical, Politics, Politics & Religion, sex, sexist, Social Issues, vagina.add a comment
Donald Trump can kiss my ass. How dare anyone – man or woman – imagine a punishment for an abortion? What could be worse than the entire situation itself. Somehow the self-righteous right (and many others, sacred and profane) think women have abortions when there is nothing good on sale at Bloomingdales or K-Mart? Is that what they imagine. Well imagine this – you are pregnant and it is not a thrilling fact of your life. Rich,poor, any ethnicity and no one is faced with this truly except women. Casual sex, marital sex, oops sex, rape, you are knocked up. And you had no intention to become a parent – actually – a mother. Your choices should be unlimited in a normal society. But in the eyes of mostly men – you are so low and foul – even in Chanel – you not only are a slut to be shamed but you should be punished if you can manage to make a personal choice. Hoe dare he. How dare they? I will not face this decision again in my life but I have in another time of my life. I have chosen and if you do not think that choice was a difficult and emotionally wrought one – then you are ducky. Women may be relieved after this choice – but they carry it inside them forever. In their minds, their hearts and their body’s memory. I do.
So despite this being a medical decision for the doctor and an emotionally medical one for the woman what more is there to exact? A fine, probation, stay 30 feet from a penis for the rest of your life, have it stitched shut, have a tattoo on your face like Hester Prynne? Community service in a creche or nursery? Lose the children you have and love because you didn’t, wouldn’t, couldn’t have another that you did not want to bear. Birth defects – how dare you – you MUST have a baby with no quality of life – including yours and that of your family? That would be an agony that covers a lot of ground.
Was he quick to retract his statement? WOW. You betcha’ because he knew he had crossed a line of voters who do not play that period. And I suspect he actually was sorry about the pressure he bore for it. I think he believes all his pompous, dangerous demagoguery. I’ll bet he had a laundry list of nasty punishments for bad women who chose choice. But Donald is not alone. He just bleats his ideas (?) more easily. I suspect this is the stance of most GOP men and some women. And I also bet they have paid for numerous terminations about which they have no guilt, whatsoever.
Men. Stay out of our vaginas unless you are invited in. Men. Stay out of our wombs unless your opinion is requested. Men. Worry about your frequently out of control dicks and refrain from making medical decisions for females. It is not your right. You have no standing to do so.
And this: Back once more – hectic few months. Hating this Election Season 2016
In the New Yorker today – HCV News April 24, 2014
Posted by voolavex in common sense, Economics, Health, health care, Medical, Social Issues.Tags: cost, Cure, HCV, James Surowiecki, The New Yorker
add a comment
The day after my post: The Cure. Your Liver. $84.000. The brilliant financial author James Surowiecki, wrote a piece on the Financial Page (p23) in the New Yorker. entitled “Biotech’s Hard Bargain”. I am most grateful to read a piece on the cost of HCV in such a prestigious and well read publication. He brings a much needed reinforcement to the arguments of others who find the $84,000 price tag distressing. In his piece he points out that Medicare is forbidden to bargain for better prices for drugs and that private insurers are very upset and pharmacy benefit companies are suggesting their customers wait for a cheaper “cure”. Pharma has tremendous pricing power and this is one of the lures for investors. Rather than dropping price, pharmaceuticals actually increase. Wonder leukemia drug, Gleevac, has tripled since 2001. I would strongly suggest you read Mr. Surowiecki’s piece and see for yourself. Some people want to wait until it is cheaper, but others simply can’t wait – and are on donor lists in serious need of a fix of any kind. I am grateful to have my observations reiterated in this post. Thanks James. The New Yorker is online, on newsstands and in the library – I invite you to read the Financial Page and my own post. And I wish all of you good health – at a price you can afford.
Their Cure. Your Liver. $84,000? April 23, 2014
Posted by voolavex in Egypt, Health, hippies, Medical, Social Issues, solutions.Tags: $84, 000, ACA, AIDS, Big Pharma, cancer, Egypt, felons, Gets my goat, Hepatitis C, Hippocratic Oath, HIV, insurance companies, liver transplants, medicare, oral cure, Pharma
1 comment so far
I grew up in the age of “wonder” drugs. New discoveries for diseases that needed eradication. Dedicated researchers who had devoted decades to finding cures. Period. In the words of Jonas Salk, when asked about patents for his polio vaccine, he replied, “There is no patent. Could you patent the sun” and with those words the Salk vaccine eliminated – for the most part, polio. Albert Sabin developed the Sabin vaccine with the help of the Russians and it too was given freely – I received both while in grade school. I have never had polio. There was time when kids could not go swimming for fear of polio; couldn’t play with others for fear of polio and people whose lives were lived in a contraption called an “iron lung” that breathed for them. It was not a good thing. The moral compass and integrity of Jonas Salk and Albert Sabin pointed in a different direction and they found a cure that was made available to everyone. Polio is largely gone from the planet and with the efforts of the Gates Foundation may soon be simply extinct.
Doctors take the Hippocratic Oath which includes the words “First do no harm”. I don’t think it includes the words – do not treat those with no money. I could be wrong. I am not certain what Big Pharma swears to do – but one thing it knows how to do is make money. In my very skewed way of thinking if you are in the business of finding treatments and cures for deadly diseases, your motives should include making sure as many of those afflicted get them. My first hint of the slippery, slimy slope Big Pharma had chosen were the TV and print ads for prescription drugs – to the public. I couldn’t figure out whyBig Pharma was appealing directly to consumers for medications that had been the sole domain of the prescribing physician. And the laundry list of side effects – read by a serious voice – was a legal requirement. And scary. In print it required pages. Humans are gullible. We want quick fixes. Better, quicker fixes; an app for a cure. Sneeze? Wheeze, scratch, fidget, get the runs – watch and listen – an ad will tell you which med to “ask your doctor about”. (One appears to come with two free bathtubs but I am not sure). I have a suspicion doctors do not like to asked about these things. But Pharma spends a lot on consumer ads. Does this expand profit or eat into it. Someone should ask.
It used to be that Baby Boomers, who were usually old Hippies, had the PDR or the US Pharmacopeia stored away in their heads somewhere. I did. In the 60’s we knew who made what and the side effects, the contraindications and the uses to which these meds were put. Words like “sulfate, hydrochloride, spansules, tartrate and indole rings” flowed poetically from many of us who chose an alternative lifestyle. And FYI – the “meth” we spoke of was not the meth cooked in kitchen and garages. Ours came straight from drug companies; as my son used to say: “Back when drugs were good for you”. He was not far wrong. Such was our mindset. Bad drugs were cocaine and heroin. For me they still are.
Which takes us to 2014 and BIG Pharma – the profit stream that can mean life or death – your very own.
Recently a small “pharm” created a “cure” for Hepatitis C (for certain genotypes. and not a 100% cure – more like 95%). It made it through clinical trials, appeared and appears to be very beneficial and was approved for use by the FDA. Millions of us have this virus which didn’t even have a name before the 90’s. Millions didn’t know they had it. Millions still don’t. It is global. It is a slow progressor and can be asymptomatic for some and the virus is only interested in the liver. Unlike HIV – it does not wreak the same havoc with the immune system but many with HIV also have HCV and this is a horrid situation. Adding insult to injury. Unlike HIV (in its early days) HCV is possible to acquire by anyone who might be exposed through blood transfer. Unlike certain cancers it can afflict males or females equally. So,unlike many more publicized viral infections it can get lost in the shuffle. But if you have it – you could be facing cirrhosis, liver cancer or chronic fatigue and for many, a liver transplant. It is more complicated than this but that is a nutshell.
Voila!!! Someone finds a really effective oral treatment that can nail and rid many a body of it without the hideous side effects of previous treatments (interferon and ribaviran are two). A ORAL medication that is shown to be extremely effective, short regimen and now what? Oh, now here’s the price tag for this: $84,000 for an 84 day course. ACA, Medicare and insurance companies are not happy campers. I am not a happy camper. I have the right genotype and I have Medicare – but I am short about $84,000. Which brings me back to Big and small Pharma and their duty of care to cure if they can ,incurable diseases that will hugely reduce organ transplants, hospital care, rejection drug costs and generally better this country, both financially and medically . Do they even have a duty of care or do they first shun no profit. A drug company will tell us the costs for developing effective and important new drugs is astronomical – but who ever asks to see a breakdown of those costs? Seriously. The company I have in mind is publicly traded so showing investors a HUGE profit is, I suspect, far more important that cleaning up some sick livers. The Pharm contrasts the $84K spent to the cost of liver transplants but if this drug can reduce dramatically the need for this procedure, it makes more sense to dispense it to more people. And on the subject of liver transplants: donor organs are just that – donated. You cannot go to the doc and say – “okay let’s get me a new liver – when shall I come back” because you may never get one. So a liver transplant v. a high percentage cure is not a bet I would take to my turf accountant. I find it a specious argument.
But it gets better. Oh yes it does. It is perfectly legal for Pharma to sell pricey drugs to foreign countries at very discounted prices. Let’s say Egypt has a large load of cases of – let’s say – HCV – a pharm with a good product that can achieve maximum results can be had at a 90+% discount. Feeling edgy right about now? There’s more. Individual state Departments of Corrections can choose to give their felons and bad folks, let’s say, a certain high result drug for about a $3750 per inmate pop. So let’s say a slammer treats everyone – it could cost up to $315,000,000 to cover them all. Which takes us back to the duty to heal. The duty to cure. The duty to care? And my question is simply this: when does the humanitarian good exceed the addiction to profit. For me, right about now. It gets my goat.
0.000000
Appreciation and Depreciation April 8, 2014
Posted by voolavex in common sense, freedom, Random thoughts, Social Issues.Tags: app, guns, Jews, life, mother, time
add a comment
In a blinding epiphany last night, I realized that I am beginning to appreciate my life Accomplishments are not appreciation. Accomplishments are simply the things you have done and they have a positive aura – but even robbing a bank can be a sort of accomplishment. It is not so much the “aha” moments – but the number of them that snowball down the side of our individual middens as we careen through the years. And we do careen – I can’t walk a straight line in bare feet anymore. Sad. True.
In my case it was like suddenly understanding string theory or hearing the music of the spheres or realizing that all the crap I think is crap IS crap. I no longer ask why we cling to our 2nd Amendment rights, nor shoot each other or serial kill each other – that’s what we watch on the screen. Big, little, on demand, anytime – click and kill. There’s an app for it. But I now appreciate that this is what is happening and I can see it and despair or see it and know I will not change my direction due to it. For example; I do not own a gun. The reason is simple. Fear that I will use it. Most people don’t actually think of this when they shy away from the gun issue. They are afraid it will get into the wrong hands, they hate guns, it won’t make a difference in the long haul. Not me. I am simply afraid I will not be afraid, I will be the wrong hands and I will use it. My feeling is that to own a gun you must be willing to use it. My fear is that I would. So no gun. But it is the appreciation of that knowledge that anchors me and lets me out of the whole argument. Guns may not kill people, but people with guns do. I am grateful I am not a bigot. I like being a Jew. I do not trust Putin. I know I am being watched. I treasure the right to vote and still get a frisson of joy when I do it. I do not miss having grandchildren (from my own kids).
As I really begin to appreciate these small things, other smaller ones follow. I hate to go to movies. Very simple. I do not like to go. And I get so many arguments (not offers) and find myself using hackneyed phrases like “it’s not my cup of tea” – and this works because everyone knows what a cup of tea is. I have no desire to own property. I have by and large always been a cliff dweller (as my mother would say) and I like apartment living. It’s not for everyone, but it is for me. And all this appreciation is not always positive. I realize that I was a very terrible mother – something two other adults know too. And in the fullness of knowing comes the reality there is nothing I can do to go back and do better. Even though I know better. But I do know it and I can say it and I know why it is true. I don’t want to have a dog. I do like the way many dogs look, but they are not an animal that lures me. For some this is character flaw – but it’s just what I know.As I know I like red meat. And these shocks of wisdom – as I personally depreciate and time becomes more scarce also allow me to let stuff go. Like movie theaters, mortgages and dusting. They allow me to read India (my preferred subject matter), mystery novels, genetics, Jewish history, and anything else whose title sounds alluring. Because I appreciate that time does flow like a river and we all sink at some point as we float.
Is there a message in all this – kinda. If you can feel the shocks of appreciation, wait for even more. You will get them and for the fortunate ones who do, they will lighten it up as you drift – the buoyancy will astonish you as it does me and you may even appreciate that our demographic may be the last who can do this and probably because there is no app for it.
0.000000
Jim Crow Passes Muster in Akron, Ohio January 28, 2011
Posted by voolavex in common sense, despicable, freedom, guilt, Social Issues.Tags: Akron Ohio, bigotry, court, judge, jury, KKK, outrage, plea bargain, Racism, rapists
add a comment
- I’m gwine to sing a little song, My name’s Jim Crow.
- Chorus: Wheel about, an’ turn about, an’ do jis so;
- Eb’ry time I wheel about, I jump Jim Crow.
- I went down to de river, I didn’t mean to stay,
- But there I see so many gals, I couldn’t get away.
- I’m rorer on de fiddle, an’ down in ole Virginny,
- Dey say I play de skientific, like massa Paganini.
- I cut so many munky shines, I dance de galloppade;
- An’ w’en I done, I res’ my head, on shubble, hoe or spade.
- I met Miss Dina Scrub one day, I gib her sich a buss;
- An’ den she turn an’ slap my face, an’ make a mighty fuss.
- De udder gals dey ‘gin to fight, I tel’d dem wait a bit;
- I’d hab dem all, jis one by one, as I tourt fit.
- I wip de lion ob de west, I eat de alligator;
- I put more water in my mouf, den boil ten load ob ‘tator.
- De way dey bake de hoe cake, Virginny nebber tire;
- Dey put de doe upon de foot, an’ stick ’em in de fire.[1] “
CRIMINAL DIVISION |
Harold K. Stubbs Justice Center 217 S. High Street, Room 203 Akron, Ohio 44308 (330) 375-2730 (330) 375-2281 facsimile |
Elisa B. Hill | Police Legal Advisor |
Craig Hanus | Police Legal Advisor |