Maggie's Farm

We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.

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Monday, September 3. 2007

Minnie the Moocher

Lyrics here. My Godmother, who was from Chattanooga and a transplant up to Yankee-land, used to love to play the piano (banging chords - what they used to call "whorehouse pianny") and sing this one with verve. I can hear her now. She was a piece of work, always with designer clothes and a big hat, and an accent that could melt butter.

Posted by Bird Dog in The Culture, "Culture," Pop Culture and Recreation at 13:13 | Comments (3) | Trackbacks (0)

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I think I like the Bertie Wooster version better.
#1 the gregarious hermit on 2007-09-03 14:27 (Reply)
hats were key. had to keep the sun off your face to retain your paleness so people knew you didn't have to work out in the fields. probably a hard habit to break. good for your godmother that her accent didn't fade when she moved above the mason-dixon line. sounds like she kept her integrity all the way arouund.
#2 kab on 2007-09-03 18:29 (Reply)
Marvellous!
#3 Jeremy Jacobs (Link) on 2007-09-03 19:10 (Reply)

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