Yesterday saw the passing of one of the most pioneering of child performers, Shirley Temple.
As Internet and television news outlets review her more than 80 years of accomplishments in entertainment and political life, everyone is playing and replaying the most famous clip – the cherubic actress belting out “On the Good Ship Lollipop.”
Cripes, another childhood memory:
Saint Dominic’s Catholic School, Shaker Heights, Ohio, 1968. For the school’s annual musical performance, second graders were divided into two groups. One performed “On the Good Ship Lollipop,” made famous by Shirley Temple. The other performed “Dearie.” If you remember it, then you’re much older than I. For the benefit of those who don’t, it was made famous by Ethel Merman.
Can you guess to which group I was assigned? This eight-year-old had to sing a song made famous by Ethel-freakin’-Merman.
Sorry for the outburst. The months I spent at Saint Dominic’s packed a chest of gloomy memories in the old emotional attic; that movie clip cracked the lid for a second.
The kids assigned to the Lollipop group got to wear cute, short sailor dresses and sing about bon-bons while dancing a perky little shuffle. I still remember a few of the steps. I made a point to learn them in the hopes that Sister Somebodyorother might spot my raw perkiness and switch me into the good group.
The other group did their number seated in rocking chairs, donning gray wigs and dressed in ankle-length frocks, because “Dearie” is about getting old. Not to mention the references to things no second grader would relate to. One group, lemonade stands; the other, running boards.
My father still teases me about how grumpy I was when we rehearsed, my lips pursed and eyes rolling. “Do you remember?” Yes, I remember.
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On the Good Ship Lollipop On the good ship lollipop Lemonade stands everywhere See the sugar bowl do the tootsie roll On the good ship lollipop By Richard A. Whiting and Sidney Clare |
Dearie Dearie, do you remember when we Chowder parties down by the seashore My Dearie, Do you recall Dearie, life was cheery Dearie, do you remember when we Keystone movies, Coogan and Chaplin My Dearie, do you recall Dearie, life was cheery Dearie, do you remember how they Jenny Lind presented by Barnum Test your memory my Dearie, Dearie, life was cheery Do you remember? Well if you remember, Dearie By David Mann and Bob Hilliard |
I’m not in the direct path and, as of now, Sandy hasn’t yet made the scene. It’s little more than a rainy Monday where I am but already I’m seeing posts of disappearing electricity from the other side of the Beltway.
Two days ago, I stocked up supplies on while they were still on the store shelves. Yesterday I organized my refrigerated goods. Today, after tending to a client project, I vacuumed the house and ironed some altar linens for the church.
The first: More than a few of us were reading A Time to Kill, John Grisham’s first novel. The book had come out three years earlier, but it had gotten little attention until Grisham’s next legal suspense thriller, The Firm, came out in ’92. Jury selection was a central part of A Time to Kill and those of us who arrived with paperback in hand were dying to be selected. The second thing I remember: Even though I wasn’t selected, I felt sequestered. A full work day at the courthouse without any contact with my office was nerve-wracking.
I listened in on my fellow jurors’ cell phone conversations, rolling my eyes as they overstated the drama to their loved ones and colleagues. I could only imagine their exaggerated tweets.
After Chief Medical Correspondent Dr. Nancy Snyderman rebuffed the congressman’s theory, the panel’s legal analyst, Star Jones, cautioned that the congressman’s gaffe could harm GOP candidate Mitt Romney, whose campaign could be “tarred with the same feather.”
I’d take him. In a Fletch-off, that is. I’m not proud of this, but I’ve got the whole movie memorized. I even have an autograph that Chevy Chase wrote to me in 1988, suggesting I name my unborn baby Fletch. No kidding.
You know it goes: Contestants are asked to “Name something that …” as they aim to match their answers with answers of others on their team, as well as with survey responses cast by the audience. If instructed to name something you would find your refrigerator, for example, you might say “milk,” knowing that might be a popular—and hence, high scoring—answer.
This morning on Today, following a preview of this year’s commercials appearing during the Super Bowl—one starring Matthew Broderick—it was revealed shamefully that Matt Lauer had never seen Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. Neither have I. It was also revealed that he had never seen Star Wars. Neither have I.
Matt Lauer has always been my TV personality crush. His picture was posted on the Wall of Men in my office before I redecorated. My husband, God love him, gave me the Matt Lauer magazine cover for my little beefcake display.
And I love that my husband helps indulge my little crush.
Before I sent an e-dig to a friend who I knew was working on location for the station I was watching, I thought I’d better dig a little deeper. It seems the only error the station made was not putting the nibbling reference in quotes–and perhaps omitting “at.” Paul indeed said in a post-primary speech, “We’re nibbling at his heels.” (Again with the “
Word Nymph 