A Proverbial Mess

In preparation for our rise to jug band fame, Natasha and I both bought shiny new harmonicas last week. As I sat on my couch watching The Bachelor Monday night, I tried to play a few tunes on the old harp, but quickly discovered that whenever I would play, “You Are My Sunshine,” my cats would go berserk and attack each other. I then tried playing the intro to The Beatles, “Love Me Do,” and the same thing happened. I would have tried to play, “On Top of Old Smoky” next, but I just bought the harmonica song book and haven’t learned that one yet.

Thinking this might have just been a strange coincidence, I waited about an hour before playing the harmonica again. But as soon as I played the first few bars, the attacking began again. Now, I have always heard that music soothes the savage beast, so I was perplexed by this reaction from my cats. Is it possible that my newly acquired harmonica skills don’t qualify as music? Are my cats not savage enough? Or is it the more likely answer: that I have been lied to all my life by proverbs?

That had to be it. Well, I’ll be darned. Music really doesn’t soothe the savage beast.

But if that’s the case, then what about all the other proverbs that have guided my every life decision? What if those two birds in the bush really are worth more than this stupid one crapping all over my hands right now? And what if a rolling stone actually does gather moss?

Are you telling me that I could’ve been sitting in my recliner all these years, covered with no more moss than those go-getters over there?

Since my entire world has been turned upside down by this discovery, I now realize that I have a lot of ground to make up. With that in mind, I put together the following list:

To Do:

  • Borrow some money from Vivian, and then lend it to Seamus.

  • Knock over a glass of milk. Cry.
  • Count chickens as soon as the eggs are laid.
  • Collect all those eggs in that big basket.
  • Accept gift from Olympia Dukakis.
  • Make hay at 9:30pm.
  • Wait for iron to cool down, and then strike it.
  • Close eyes. Leap.
  • Wake up that dog.
  • Teach him to roll over.
  • Make bed. Sleep on couch.
  • Get mad at face. Cut off nose.

9 Responses to “A Proverbial Mess”

  1. Robert Says:

    Sleep late; still get the worm.
    (p.s. Why does your site hate me? It never remembers my name.)

  2. Jenny Says:

    R: I thought it just hated me! It doesn’t remember my info either. I’ll have to look into that… (and by the by, your site never remembers me either. Why can’t we stop fighting like this?)

  3. pete Says:

    a)watch water boil
    b)replace squeaky wheel
    c)fool all of the people all of the time
    4)go to bed early – get up early & be unhealthy, poor and unwise…

  4. jill Says:

    Okay. While technically I shouldn’t blame you for having put the song “This Land Is My Land, This Land Is Your Land” in my head for the past several hours, I’m going to anyway. It’s in the same genre of fireside songs as “On Top of Old Smokey” and “You Are My Sunshine” and completely appropriate for a rockin’ jug band like yours. I’m convinced that reading your post this morning was the seed that planted this song in my brain, which is driving me batty since I only know the title and the tune that keeps repeating itself in a crazy-making loop.

  5. Fiorello LaGuardia Says:

    Who really needs those golden eggs? Roast goose is delicious.

  6. Jenny Says:

    J: Now we all thank you for putting that song into our heads. Here you go!

    This land is your land, this land is my land
    From California, to the New York Island
    From the redwood forest, to the gulf stream waters
    This land was made for you and me

    As I was walking a ribbon of highway
    I saw above me an endless skyway
    I saw below me a golden valley
    This land was made for you and me


    I’ve roamed and rambled and I’ve followed my footsteps
    To the sparkling sands of her diamond deserts
    And all around me a voice was sounding
    This land was made for you and me


    The sun comes shining as I was strolling
    The wheat fields waving and the dust clouds rolling
    The fog was lifting a voice come chanting
    This land was made for you and me


    As I was walkin’ – I saw a sign there
    And that sign said – no tress passin’
    But on the other side …. it didn’t say nothin!
    Now that side was made for you and me!


    In the squares of the city – In the shadow of the steeple
    Near the relief office – I see my people
    And some are grumblin’ and some are wonderin’
    If this land’s still made for you and me.

    Chorus (2x)

  7. brando Says:

    I just want to go on the record as stating that whoever named 1. Jug Bands and 2. Strip Malls should be sued for violations of truth in advertising.
    That is all.

  8. heidi Says:

    Ha! That’s a great post.
    I don’t have a proverb to add.
    Just want to say that laughter does not make the world go ’round. It simply annoys the cat.
    Your harmonica playing reminded me of my cat, who gets very disturbed when I think something is riotously funny. He comes running from “his” room (which he doesn’t know is actually mine) and has this “shut the eff up!” meow. Which makes me laugh even harder.

  9. Robert Says:

    Damn site cookies. With my TypeKey registration thingy, it doesn’t remember anyone. You have to log in every time you’re opening your browser for the first time that session. If someone would just blow all the spammers to smithereens we could blog and comment in peace.