GREAT START TO THE HOLIDAY! I definitely relate to that show stopper! And the singer wasn't ashamed of being an American either!
tmw BTW-After his bomber tour was over, Dad was so mad at the Luftewaffe(sp?), that he stayed on and flew a P-51, named the "Huckle-De-Buck"! It was a secret squadron that flew without ID, because the Germans knew their names and they might have faced a firing squad for bombing so many cities. I still have his Russian language card, in case he was shot down and got behind the Russian lines.
you're welcome, Anonymous (?) and everyone else..I thought it was just fantastic, too!
TMW...I asked Klaus if he'd write about his very personal experiences being a child and seeing his little family suffer so...their treat for a meal was shriveled potato skins (he used 'wizened' in his email to me so I knew he'd looked it up and sometimes words don't quite translate!).....he wrote back that it was unseeemly for him to write to Americans about the miseries of what they went through when it was Hitler who'd pulled them and the world into the nightmare. I thought he showed a lot of integrity. He also said he left himself out of the article about the Airlift because he wanted Americans to know primarily about Gail Halvorsen.
Lots of integrity on both sides of the Atlantic...everyone was mad at the Luftwaffe, I'm sure......including many Germans...especially those who had Dresden and other cities bombed to smiitherines after the war had been declared over.
I watched- With tear in eye- Lump in throat- and heart swollen with pride- What a nation we are- I feel such gratitude to all who fought for our freedom, and to my good fortune to be born in America! God Bless the U.S.A. Matisse
Wow ... Thank you for posting this, Z. Just ... GREAT!
“And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes, and our sacred Honor.”
– Concluding line of the Declaration of Independence
If we could just simply get back to sentiments such as that …
Once a year, many years ago, our forefathers shed their everyday workclothes and dressed up in Native American clothing to pretend that certain fortunate sons of Ireland, Wales, Scotland, France, Wales, England and the Netherlands had all been transported and re-born in a new and free utopian republic they called "Columbia" and to celebrate their good fortune. Before the War of Independence, this gathering and celebration was held on the 1st of May, to celebrate a tutelary saint they named Tammany, after the friendly Indian Sachem Tammenend who sold land to and aided the Pennites in their original settlement in the city of brotherly love, Philadelphia. But after the war, many felt that it would be better to celebrate their accomplishments than their dreams, and the date was changed from the 1st of May to the 4th of July, in honor of the day these men all publically declared and pledged their sacred honor with the intention of transforming this lofty ideal into an actual republic of free men.
Now I normally sing this song on May the 1st... but thought it appropriate now to tell the tale of how the "many" became "one" and the meaning of the distinctively American motto, e pluribus unum...
"The First of May, A new Song in Praise of St. Tammany, the American Saint— "Tune, The hounds are all out &c.
Of St. George or St. Bute, let the poet laureat sing, Of Pharaoh or Pluto of old, While he rimes forth their praise, in false flattering lays, I'll sing of St. Tamm'ny the bold, my brave boys. Let Hibernia's sons boast, make Patrick their toast, And Scots Andrew's fame spread abroad, Potatoes and oates and Welch Leeks, for Welch goats, Was never St. Tammany's food, my brave boys. In freedom's bright cause, Tammany pled with applause, And reason'd most justly from nature; For this, this was his song, all, all the day long, Liberty's the right of each creature, brave boys. Whilst under an oak his great parliament sat, His throne was the crotch of the tree, With Solomon's look, without statutes or book, He wisely sent forth his decree, my brave boys. His subjects stood round, not the least noise or sound, Whilst freedom blaz'd full in each face; So plain were the laws, and each pleaded his cause, That might Bute, North and Mansfield disgrace, my brave boys. No duties nor stamps, their blest liberty cramps, A King, tho' no tyrant was he; He did oft' times declare, nay sometimes would swear, The least of his subjects were free, my brave boys. He, as King of the woods, of the rivers and floods, Had a right all beasts to control; Yet content with a few, to give nature her due, So gen'rous was Tammany's soul! my brave boys. In the morn he arose, and a hunting he goes, Bold Nimrod his second, was he; For his breakfast he'd take a large venison stake, And dispis'd your flip-flops and tea, my brave boys. While all in a row, with squaw, dog and b__, Vermilion adorning his face; With feathery head he rang' d the woods wide, Sure St. George had never such grace, my brave boys: His jetty black hair, such as Buckskin saints wear, Perfumed with bear's grease well smear'd, Which illum'd the saint's face, and ran down apace, Like the oil from off Aaron's beard, my brave boys. The strong nervous deer, with amazing career, In swiftness he'd fairly run down, And, like Sampson, wou'd tear wolf, lion or bear; Ne'er was such a saint as our own, my brave boys. When he'd run down a stag, he behind him wou'd lag, For so noble a soul had he! H'd stop, tho' he lost it, tradition reports it, To give him fresh chance to get free, my brave boys. From his quiver he drew forth an arrow so keen, And seiz'd fast his imperial bow; It flew straight to the heart, like an Israelite dart; Could St. Andrew ever do so, my brave boys? With a mighty strong aim, and a masculine bow, His arrow he drew to the head, And as sure as he shot, it was ever his lot, His prey it fell instantly dead, my brave boys. His table he spread, where the venison bled; Be thankful, he used to say; He'd laugh and he'd sing, tho' a saint and a king, And sumptuously dine on his prey, my brave boys. Then over the hills, o'er the mountains and rills, He'd caper, such was his delight; And ne'er in his days, Indian history says, Did lack a good Supper at night, my brave boys. On an old stump he sat, without cap or hat, When Supper was ready to eat; Snap his dog, he stood by, and cast a sheep's eye, For venison's the king of all meat, my brave boys. Like Isaac of old, and both cast in one mould, Tho' a wigwam was Tamm'ny's cottage, He lov'd sav'ry meat, such that patriarch eat; Of ven'son and squirrel made pottage, my brave boys.
* * * *
As old age came on, he grew blind, deaf and dumb, Tho' his sport ‘twere hard to keep from it, Quite tired of life, bid adieu to his wife, And blaz' d like the tail of a comit, my brave boys. What country on earth, then did ever give birth, To such a magnanimous saint? His acts far excel all that history tell, And language too feeble to paint, my brave boys. Now to finish my song, a full flowing bowl; I'll quaff' and sing the long day, And with punch and wine paint my cheeks for my saint, And hail ev'ry first of Sweet May, my brave boys."
as we celebrate the date of our independence. we have a challenge ahead, make sure liberals do not make the idea of america into their own IMAGE... happy fourth of july!!
"The American people will never knowingly adopt Socialism. But under the name of 'liberalism' they will adopt every fragment of the Socialist program, until one day America will be a Socialist nation, without knowing how it happened." - Norman Thomas
To compel a man to subsidize with his taxes the propagation of ideas which he disbelieves and abhors is sinful and tyrannical. Thomas Jefferson
But, when socialists and Communists are out campaigning for Democrats, perhaps you ought to rethink your "calling Democrats socialists is a right-wing smear" crock. - Beamish
"Tolerance is the virtue of a man with no convictions." - G. K. Chesterton
The tally of positive things leftists and Democrats have done for ANYBODY's civil rights could fit in a thimble and still leave room for an air show....Beamish
The right remembers history and learns from it, the left revises history and blames Jews for gravity when they run off a cliff....Beamish, again
Rules of Engagement
No gratuitous profanity! You will be deleted for whatever I find delete-provoking No Christianity or Judaism bashing Enlighten, complain, challenge or whine, but keep it succinct.
A Kevin Bacon gift from Miradena!
Team Members
Z, Mr. Z, and Elmer's Brother
A PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT
WORDS OF WISDOM....... You cannot help the poor by destroying the rich. You cannot strengthen the weak by weakening the strong. You cannot bring about prosperity by discouraging thrift. You cannot lift the wage earner up by pulling the wage payer down. You cannot further the brotherhood of man by inciting class hatred. You cannot build character and courage by taking away men's initiative and independence. You cannot help men permanently by doing for them, what they could and should do for themselves. William Boetcker
17 comments:
the best most joyous holiday ever!..woohooo girl!!
GREAT START TO THE HOLIDAY!
I definitely relate to that show stopper! And the singer wasn't ashamed of being an American either!
tmw
BTW-After his bomber tour was over, Dad was so mad at the Luftewaffe(sp?), that he stayed on and flew a P-51, named the "Huckle-De-Buck"! It was a secret squadron that flew without ID, because the Germans knew their names and they might have faced a firing squad for bombing so many cities.
I still have his Russian language card, in case he was shot down and got behind the Russian lines.
Have a great 4th "Z" and everyone else.
Be safe.
Z, This is fabulous. It is indeed a Grand Old Flag. A great prelude to Independence Day.
God Bless America.
Thanks Z
you're welcome, Anonymous (?) and everyone else..I thought it was just fantastic, too!
TMW...I asked Klaus if he'd write about his very personal experiences being a child and seeing his little family suffer so...their treat for a meal was shriveled potato skins (he used 'wizened' in his email to me so I knew he'd looked it up and sometimes words don't quite translate!).....he wrote back that it was unseeemly for him to write to Americans about the miseries of what they went through when it was Hitler who'd pulled them and the world into the nightmare. I thought he showed a lot of integrity. He also said he left himself out of the article about the Airlift because he wanted Americans to know primarily about Gail Halvorsen.
Lots of integrity on both sides of the Atlantic...everyone was mad at the Luftwaffe, I'm sure......including many Germans...especially those who had Dresden and other cities bombed to smiitherines after the war had been declared over.
I watched-
With tear in eye-
Lump in throat-
and heart swollen with pride-
What a nation we are-
I feel such gratitude to all
who fought for our freedom,
and to my good fortune to be
born in America!
God Bless the U.S.A.
Matisse
Wow ... Thank you for posting this, Z. Just ... GREAT!
“And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes, and our sacred Honor.”
– Concluding line of the Declaration of Independence
If we could just simply get back to sentiments such as that …
Oops Z,
That anonymous is me, sorry!
Pris
Thanks. That was great! A happy fourth to you.
Happy birthday America.
Hope you don't mind Z, i'd like to pilfer this one.
Really fun to watch! Happy 4th to you and Mr. Z.
Once a year, many years ago, our forefathers shed their everyday workclothes and dressed up in Native American clothing to pretend that certain fortunate sons of Ireland, Wales, Scotland, France, Wales, England and the Netherlands had all been transported and re-born in a new and free utopian republic they called "Columbia" and to celebrate their good fortune. Before the War of Independence, this gathering and celebration was held on the 1st of May, to celebrate a tutelary saint they named Tammany, after the friendly Indian Sachem Tammenend who sold land to and aided the Pennites in their original settlement in the city of brotherly love, Philadelphia. But after the war, many felt that it would be better to celebrate their accomplishments than their dreams, and the date was changed from the 1st of May to the 4th of July, in honor of the day these men all publically declared and pledged their sacred honor with the intention of transforming this lofty ideal into an actual republic of free men.
Now I normally sing this song on May the 1st... but thought it appropriate now to tell the tale of how the "many" became "one" and the meaning of the distinctively American motto, e pluribus unum...
"The First of May, A new Song in Praise of St. Tammany, the American Saint— "Tune, The hounds are all out &c.
Of St. George or St. Bute, let the poet laureat sing,
Of Pharaoh or Pluto of old,
While he rimes forth their praise, in false flattering lays,
I'll sing of St. Tamm'ny the bold, my brave boys.
Let Hibernia's sons boast, make Patrick their toast,
And Scots Andrew's fame spread abroad,
Potatoes and oates and Welch Leeks, for Welch goats,
Was never St. Tammany's food, my brave boys.
In freedom's bright cause, Tammany pled with applause,
And reason'd most justly from nature;
For this, this was his song, all, all the day long,
Liberty's the right of each creature, brave boys.
Whilst under an oak his great parliament sat,
His throne was the crotch of the tree,
With Solomon's look, without statutes or book,
He wisely sent forth his decree, my brave boys.
His subjects stood round, not the least noise or sound,
Whilst freedom blaz'd full in each face;
So plain were the laws, and each pleaded his cause,
That might Bute, North and Mansfield disgrace, my brave boys.
No duties nor stamps, their blest liberty cramps,
A King, tho' no tyrant was he;
He did oft' times declare, nay sometimes would swear,
The least of his subjects were free, my brave boys.
He, as King of the woods, of the rivers and floods,
Had a right all beasts to control;
Yet content with a few, to give nature her due,
So gen'rous was Tammany's soul! my brave boys.
In the morn he arose, and a hunting he goes,
Bold Nimrod his second, was he;
For his breakfast he'd take a large venison stake,
And dispis'd your flip-flops and tea, my brave boys.
While all in a row, with squaw, dog and b__,
Vermilion adorning his face;
With feathery head he rang' d the woods wide,
Sure St. George had never such grace, my brave boys:
His jetty black hair, such as Buckskin saints wear,
Perfumed with bear's grease well smear'd,
Which illum'd the saint's face, and ran down apace,
Like the oil from off Aaron's beard, my brave boys.
The strong nervous deer, with amazing career,
In swiftness he'd fairly run down,
And, like Sampson, wou'd tear wolf, lion or bear;
Ne'er was such a saint as our own, my brave boys.
When he'd run down a stag, he behind him wou'd lag,
For so noble a soul had he!
H'd stop, tho' he lost it, tradition reports it,
To give him fresh chance to get free, my brave boys.
From his quiver he drew forth an arrow so keen,
And seiz'd fast his imperial bow;
It flew straight to the heart, like an Israelite dart;
Could St. Andrew ever do so, my brave boys?
With a mighty strong aim, and a masculine bow,
His arrow he drew to the head,
And as sure as he shot, it was ever his lot,
His prey it fell instantly dead, my brave boys.
His table he spread, where the venison bled;
Be thankful, he used to say;
He'd laugh and he'd sing, tho' a saint and a king,
And sumptuously dine on his prey, my brave boys.
Then over the hills, o'er the mountains and rills,
He'd caper, such was his delight;
And ne'er in his days, Indian history says,
Did lack a good Supper at night, my brave boys.
On an old stump he sat, without cap or hat,
When Supper was ready to eat;
Snap his dog, he stood by, and cast a sheep's eye,
For venison's the king of all meat, my brave boys.
Like Isaac of old, and both cast in one mould,
Tho' a wigwam was Tamm'ny's cottage,
He lov'd sav'ry meat, such that patriarch eat;
Of ven'son and squirrel made pottage, my brave boys.
* * * *
As old age came on, he grew blind, deaf and dumb,
Tho' his sport ‘twere hard to keep from it,
Quite tired of life, bid adieu to his wife,
And blaz' d like the tail of a comit, my brave boys.
What country on earth, then did ever give birth,
To such a magnanimous saint?
His acts far excel all that history tell,
And language too feeble to paint, my brave boys.
Now to finish my song, a full flowing bowl;
I'll quaff' and sing the long day,
And with punch and wine paint my cheeks for my saint,
And hail ev'ry first of Sweet May, my brave boys."
Kawanio che Keekeru!
MK..pilfer away. The more people who see it, the better.
FJ....thanks for the fantastic history lesson! I had no idea about the dates.
Happy Fourth to ALL OF YOU, too!
Stay tuned for my next post coming soon FOR the Fourth.....I think you might like it.
as we celebrate the date of our independence. we have a challenge ahead, make sure liberals do not make the idea of america into their own IMAGE... happy fourth of july!!
Excellent!
Perfect!
I loved this.
(made me want to go skydiving.)
Thanks, Z.
Happy Independence Day!
That was quite the sight!
Up up and away! In my beautiful red, white and blue balloon!
Beautifully coordinated aerobatics!
A great visual treat!
~ FreeeThinke
Post a Comment