Dear Solar System

Recently my good friend Wendi wrote a touching letter to the World.

But this got me thinking…what about the rest of the planets?   I didn’t want them to feel left out.

So here are some letters I wrote to the rest of the Solar System.

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Dear Mercury

(Pffft!).   What a wuss!   (I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t tease).     But let’s be frank…you’re really not much of a planet, are you?

I mean, COME ON….some of Jupiter’s MOONS are larger than you!

As far as the Solar System goes, you’re kind of like that annoying cousin that teases everyone and then runs away. Nobody can ever find you when it’s time to come to dinner. (You’re so damned hard to see in the sky, being so close to the sun!).  It’s been rumored that even Copernicus never even saw you.

You don’t really do much.  Though I have to admit, you did help us understand physics.  Newton’s physics couldn’t fully explain your slightly shifting orbit .  But the theory of General Relativity could.

THAT was pretty cool…you helping prove Doc Einstein right, like that.

But that was what?   Almost a hundred years ago?

What have you done for us, lately?

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Dear Venus

You’re the brightest object in the sky, after the sun and moon.    I’ll give you that.

But you’re actually disappointing in the telescope…just a bright ball of white.

What happened?  You used to be COOL.

You were supposed to be our sister planet. Back in the 50′s and 60′s, there were all kinds of great cheesy science fiction books and movies about you.  We expected you to be covered in jungle, and inhabited by big-breasted Amazon women in togas…

Now, it turns out you’re just scorching hot rock covered with CO2 and acid clouds.    (Remember those Russian probes that landed on you?).   With your 800F temperature (hot enough to melt lead)…you toasted them pretty good, didn’t you?

Most.  Inhospitable planet.    Ever.

Okay…we take the hint.  We’ll leave you alone.

But you don’t have to be such a witch about it.

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Dear Mars

Never has a planet inspired so many books and movies.

Evil Martians,  benevolent Martians,  funny Martians, and even Martians with Santa Claus.  .

You’re kind of like the half-brother who’s too far away to visit, but whom we’d like to get to know better.

Just what are you hiding from us, really?

Not that we haven’t been trying to find out.    We’ve orbited you, we’ve landed on you.  Heck, even Ah-nold visited you.

We know you’re dusty, very cold, and sometimes even snowy.

Well, just you wait.  We’ll probably be visiting you sooner than you think.

In the mean time, just keep hurling a few rocks our way.  It keeps the scientists in Antarctica busy.

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Dear Jupiter

You’re the biggest -bad ass planet there is.  You weigh more than all the other planets put together.

Not to mention your equatorial bands, and that red spot.  You ROCK!

Your rotational speed is the fastest of any planet.   Just under 10 hours.   So that when I look at you in my telescope, I can actually see you change your appearance, even within 15-20 minutes.

How cool is THAT…?  To see a planet rotate in real-time? .

And remember how you swallowed up comet Shoemaker-Levy without even flinching?   That was freakin’ AWESOME!

Just promise us you won’t self-ignite and turn into another sun (like you did on 2010 Space Odyssey).

That would totally screw up life on our planet as we know it.

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Dear Saturn

Okay, I admit.  Your rings are FANTASTIC and you have a shit-load of satellites.   You’re the best looking planet there is.  Everyone loves you.  Everyone wants to be like you.

One word of advice:  don’t let it go to your head.

Remember, your rings disappear ever 15 years or so.

Then, you look like a ball of methane and hydrogen, just like all the other gas-giants.

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Dear Uranus

Heh-heh heh.

You rhyme with “anus”.

Heh-heh-heh.

‘Nuff said.

And you sure messed with everyone, when Herschel discovered you. (Up until then, for thousands of years, we thought Saturn was the farthest planet).  1781 wasn’t too long ago, either.  America was already a country back then.

Aside from that, you’re kind of boring, though.  You don’t really have any features we can see.

But you DO have rings.   So that makes you all right, in my books.

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Dear Neptune

Oh you ARE  the tricky one.    Remember back in the 1800′s?   Nobody knew you existed.   But you kept messing with Uranus’ orbit, making him wobble.   Wobble wobble wobble.    Eventually, some science geeks figured out that you HAD to be out there somewhere.   (You were the first planet to be discovered mathematically, rather than visually).

And for some reason, you’re the same temperature as Uranus (even though you’re farther away and should be COLDER!).  You actually radiate more heat from the sun than you receive.  (You’re up to something…I know it)!

On top of that, your orbit is so elliptical, that sometimes you’re FARTHER from the sun than Pluto is (like you were between 1979 and 1999).

You’re messing with schoolkids’ minds, when you pull stunts like that.

Which is all the more reason why you’re one of my favorites.

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Dear Pluto

I always felt a bit sorry for you, being left way out in the cold like that.   You’re the black sheep of the Solar System.  The other planets hardly talk to you.

You made Neptune wobble, and that’s how we started to find out about you.    Though it wasn’t until 1930 that you were discovered.   You’re so far away, we didn’t have a clue what your surface looked like until recently with Hubble.  (And even then, it was a pretty crummy picture).

I feel you got ripped off when they demoted you to a “Dwarf Planet” in 2006.  All because of those Johnny-come-lately  Trans-Neptunian Objects.

Well, never you mind them!    As far as I’m concerned, you’re still a planet, I don’t care what other people say.

And cheer up.  At least you have Charon, and Nix and Hydra to keep you company.

Travels with the Bear: Poland, this time!

There’s a Paris, Ontario.    There’s a London, Ontario.

But who would have thought there’s a POLAND, Ontario?

Not much of a place, either.    One church, about six houses.    No gas station, no convenience store…nothin’!  It makes Wawa look like a bustling metropolis.

Why this village even merits it’s own road sign, I have no idea.   I don’t even know the history of this place,  You can’t even find anything on Wikipedia.

Has anyone ever heard of this town besides me?

Anyone want to guess where this is?

(Hint:  It’s not too far from Plevna and Flower Station!)

Guest Blogger: Friar’s Mom

Okay, I’ve been known to kid around before, and use fake names in my blog. But I assure you, this time I’m serious.  YES, this is ACTUALLY MY MOM!

Mom enjoys writing.   I suggested she try blogging, but she’s not not really interested. (Probably because it would take time away from her socializing, grandkids, and her 80-mile bike rides).

She does lurk around my blog regularly, but she’s too shy to leave comments.    But I have convinced her to write a guest post.

So without any further ado, may I present:  FRIAR’S MOM.

P.S. Be gentle, it’s her first post…EVER!

- Friar

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Wee Friar and His Art

Wee Friar was a very active child. However, when he had a Crayola, colouring pencil or felt pen in hand, and a stack of paper, he was quiet for a long period of time.

Children love to draw the typical house, with windows, door, chimney, tree, and sunshine. Some children draw curtains in the window, smoke out of the chimney, a pathway, and clouds in the sky.

Wee Friar did one better. He enjoyed setting the house on fire, with flames shooting out of the windows and roof.

He blew up airplanes in the sky. He crashed cars on the ground. These elaborate collisions showed car tires, steering wheels, car seats, fenders and various car parts flung into the air.

We knew he had some artistic potential and a vivid imagination.

Four-year old Wee Friar lived on a quiet crescent in the suburbs. Mrs. Larch (two houses away) held art classes in her home for preschoolers. We decided to enroll him in his first art class, so he could develop his artistic talent.

I waited anxiously for him to arrive with his first masterpiece.

He came to the front door with outstretched arms holding his first painting.

“Hi Wee Friar. Did you have fun at art class?”

“Yah.”

I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry when I saw his work of art. It was an 18” x 24” piece of paper, every inch of it covered with black poster paint. Black? Why black? Doesn’t he have any colour sense? What happened to all the creativity he had shown? What’s wrong with my son? Is he depressed?

“Mom, don’t touch it, it’s still wet.”

“Wee Friar, what did you paint?”

“I made Air Pollution.”

Phew! Clever kid! And thus began Wee Friar’s encounter with art.

Increasing your Traffic: Blog Posts that are Guaranteed Crowd-Pleasers.

C’mon.  Admit it.   We’ve all done some of these.

- Friar

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Write a link post, listing your favorite bloggers.

Write a link post, thanking your favorite bloggers.

Write a link post, thanking other bloggers who wrote a link posts about your blog.

Write a link post, listing the blogs that tell you how to blog.

Post one of your photos.  Any photo.   It will be awesome.

Announce that you’re going on vacation so you wont’ be posting for a while.   Coyly ask your readers if this is okay.

Write about something that makes you cry.  Chances are, everyone else will too.

Pick one of the Cool Kids’ blogs, and write about how great they are.   Don’t people realize these blogs reduce global warming and eliminate world hunger?

Quote a passage from somewhere, and explain how reading it changed your life.

Fill in the blanks:   “Life is like a _________.    How do YOU deal with the _______’s in YOUR life? “

If you slept badly or you have the sniffles,  let everyone know you feel bad.  They’ll be impressed how you soldiered on and kept posting.

Write an open letter to a loved one, and watch the Kleenex fly.

Mention your kids (you can never go wrong with this one).

Write about some mundane everyday task (like combing your hair or taking out the garbage).    Invite readers to comment on how they deal with the same mundane task.

Explain to others how, if they follow your expert advice, they can drastically improve their own lives.

Announce your recent self-discovery that you find your life unfulfilled, and that you have decided that it’s time to make some changes.   You don’t necessarily have to do anything yet.   Just announce it.

If you’re one of the Cool Kids,  it doesn’t matter what you write.   You poo smells like oven-fresh cinnamon buns, and you can do no wrong.

Celebrating my Literary Ignorance: A List of Books I’ve Never Read

Okay, before anyone accuses me of being illiterate,  I actually have read quite a number of books in my lifetime, including many of the so-called “Literary Classics”.

Just that I didn’t major in English, so I haven’t read everything the Tortured Intellectual PhD’s tell us we should read.

There are only so many free hours a day, and not all of us want to read 7 books a week.  And many of us often prefer a best-selling author, rather than plowing through literary criticisms of 18th-century poetry.

As far as I’m concerned, it’s all good.  They’re all just BOOKS, and reading anything is a worthy pursuit.    No one subject is necessarily better than the other.  It’s just a matter of taste.

So without any further ado, I’ll stop my rant and list some of the books I probably “should” have read, but haven’t.

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Anything by Agatha Christie
If what they show on PBS is anywhere even REMOTELY related to the books, I am SO not interested.

I get the impression that between 1880-1930, half of England was busy trying to “muh-deh” the other half.  Especially on wealthy estates where people wore tweed and sipped tea all day. (As if they didn’t have anything better to do with their free time).

Fine.  Go ahead and kill each other off.  I couldn’t care less.   That’s one less inbred Upper-Class twit the planet has to deal with.

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Anything to do with Sherlock Holmes
As I wrote earlier, Sherlock Holmes has been done and re-done so many times before, that I’m already sick of it before ever having read a single book.

When you start to see stupid deer-hunter detective hats on The Muppet Show and in Archie Comics,  it’s time to put this 19th-century chestnut to bed.

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Almost all of Dickens
We studied Oliver Twist in Grade 13 English.  And that was ENOUGH Dickens for my lifetime.

Poor Oliver this.   Poor Oliver that.   Poor dear darling child.  His chin quivered as tears rolled down his pale cheeks.

Yadda, yadda, yadda.

ARGH!  The goody-goody, maudlin style of Victorian writing drove me and my classmates nuts.

In fact, by the end of the book, we were hoping for Oliver to DIE!  DIE!  DIE!

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Emily Dickinson
I’m not saying she might not be good, but I just never got around to reading her.   And I probably never will.

I’m not putting down people who love her poetry.    But hey, I’m a guy.   And an engineer on top of that.

19th-century recluse poetry is just NOT a high priority with me.

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Most of Shakespeare
I read and/or saw a few of his plays during my teens.    If I recall, this included King Henry IV Part I, King Henry IV Part II,  MacBeth, King Lear, Twelfth Night.

And that was enough.

Seems we spent more time in English Class trying to decipher the 16th century prose, rather than actually enjoying the story.

I know the English profs will clench their teeth and wring their hands when they hear me say this:

But you know what?  I found it okay, but not great.

I’m sorry, but I DON’T think the Bard of Avon was necessarily the direct pipeline to the Divine Voice of God.

There…I’ve said it.

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Most of the Dune Series
I plowed my way through the first Dune book.   Bloody annoying.

First of all, Frank Herbert invented an artificial language that was so complicated,  it required you to use a freaking GLOSSARY at the back of the book.  It drove me nuts, having to flip back and forth just to figure out what the hell they were trying to say.

Enough with the Bene Gesserits and Muad’Dibs!  …why dont’ you just write the freaking story in ENGLISH!??

As for the plot itself…I just coudln’t get into it.

And what are there…something like twenty five more Dune books after that?

Hey, if I didnt’ enjoy the first book my chances of reading the sequels are pretty slim.

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Lord of the Rings
Oh, I can just hear the Dungeons-and-Dragons geeks screaming in angst when I admit I haven’t’ read this one yet.

(No!  No!  I loves my Tolkein.   I knows his books is supposed to be good!)

I just haven’t gotten around to reading it yet.

I probably will…eventually…one day.

Just that reading the trilogy involves a huge investment of time.  (What are there, 37,500 pages in total?).

I’m sorry, I’m in a relationship with several other books right now.

I…I don’t know if I’m ready to make that kind of commitment yet.

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Pride and Prejudice
The equivalent of a 19th Century Chick-Flick.

Oh, now there’s GREAT READING MATERIAL for a single guy.

‘Nuff said.

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War and Peace
This is the one people always say they’ll read one day.  (“Oh, yeah, I’m going to bring it to the beach, my goal is to finish it over the summer.”)

It’s as if completing this book is some kind of literary rite-of-passage.

Like eating your brussel sprouts:  it’s something you do because it’s good for you, but you don’t necessarily enjoy.

I’ve never heard anyone tell me they’ve actually LIKED the book, though.

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Most of James Mitchener
I’ve read three of his books. (And that alone, accounts for more reading than many people do in a lifetime).

But I think I’m done here.

Sweet Jesus, his books are thick enough to stop an artillery shell!   With all the plots, and sub plots, and sub-sub-plots, with hundreds of characters you have to keep track of, there is just WAY TOO MUCH reading.

In Texas, for example,  I could have done without the intricately-detailed description of how the wife of a very minor character I never read about again collected wild pecans on her pioneer homestead to make a pie with.

He obviously must have been paid by the word, or something.

Hey!  Authors!   If you can’t tell me your story within 1000 pages, then chances are, you’re babbling too much.

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The Bible
I admit it.  I’m a Bible dilettante.

Oh, sure, I’ve read selected passages in Religion Class when I went to Catholic School.  I know bits and pieces of the Gospel from Mass.   But I’ve never read the best-selling book of all time, from cover to cover.

I probably SHOULD.

But I probably won’t.

I might burn in Hell for saying so, but I’m sorry, I find Stephen King more fun to read.

Watercolors: From Sea to Shining Sea.

Sad as this may seem, I just don’t really have anything clever or funny to say today.  (...quiet, Kelly !)    I think I just need to re-charge my Smart-Ass batteries for a few days.

Anyway, it’s been a while since I’ve posted some artwork.  So why not right now?

Today’s theme today is the ocean.  I have two seascapes,  showing opposite sides of the continent.

This first one is the Atlantic coast of New Hampshire. (Yes!  N.H. has a tiny coastline…something I tend to keep forgetting.)

This was a late-winter scene from a few years back.  Normally, that time of year, I’d have been off skiing somewhere.   But I had a torn ACL at the time, and most physical activities were still off-limits.   I was bored out of my skull, and decided to do a road-trip from Ottawa to the New England coast for the weekend, to see what I could find.

From the painting, you’d think New Hampshire has a pristine, untamed coast.  But what this scene doesn’t show is what’s behind it…the myriad hotels, antique stores, fast-food joints, beachfront houses, go-cart tracks, roller coasters, souvenir shops, and places where you can buy fried dough.    With the exception of a few State Parks, pretty much every square foot of the Atlantic coast from Portland to Cape Cod has been claimed and/or  developed in some way or another.

Fortunately, all those places were closed and empty when I was there.   It was like a ghost town.   That’s why I always like to see these places off-season.  You get to appreciate the seashore as it is…without the Touron crowds.

The second scene is the Pacific Coast in Northern Oregon.    This was mid-July, and it was a typical West-Coast damp, drizzly day.

But the beach was hauntingly beautiful, and I took a lot of photos.  This day was a gold-mine for inspiring a lot artwork.   This painting is just one of several that I plan to do.

What a contrast from the East Coast!  The beach was mostly deserted.    Consisting of jagged rocks and black sand, and surrounded by coniferous forest, it had a raw, untamed aspect to it.   One can still get a sense of what Lewis and Clark must have felt when they first laid eyes on the Pacific.

Much of the entire Oregon coast is left untouched like this.  I don’t think I saw a single Ferris wheel.  And that’s a GOOD thing.

Coincidentally, I also drove here.  I was out of work at the time, and the job market had slowed down for the summer. I decided to take some time off, and do another road-trip.

(Though this second road-trip took slightly longer…!)

Things I am Ungrateful For.

Mosquitoes
Thanks a LOT, God!

Mercury
Wussy little planet.  Seriously…what’s it done for me LATELY?

Scrappy Doo
Most.  Annoying.  Cartoon character.   Ever.

Cathy Comics
A quick plot summary:   I’m fat.  I’m insecure.  AAAAK!

Four-Hole Punches
Why do they even HAVE these?

Endless Wipes
‘Nuff said.

Yoko Ono
‘Nuff said.

The McDLT
Remember this one?   “Keep the hot side hot, and the cool side cool”.   Great…when you put them together, your burger was luke-warm.

Low-quality T.P.
Especially when combined with endless wipes.

Movie Trailers
START THE DAMNED SHOW, ALREADY!

Carob
Don’t even attempt to tell me you’re as good as chocolate.

Whole Wheat Wonder Bread
Kinda defeats the purpose, doesn’t it?

Tai-Chi
Kung-fu for old people, who can’t move very fast.

Hay-Fever
The planet is trying to kill me.

Crows (Screeching)
It’s 6:00 AM.  Will you PLEASE…SHUT THE @#$% UP?

Loser Tables
When you’re stuck at these, at wedding receptions.

RV’s
When driven in front of you, by octogenarians.

Nuns and Circus Clowns
They both frighten me.

Bag Pipes
Oboy.  Now I know what a cat being throttled sounds like.

Screaming Kids
See Bag Pipes.

Tips for Married Couples: How to Deal with your Single Friends

Don’t feel guilty that you haven’t called your friends in months.   You’re married with kids.    It’s up to THEM to call YOU.    After all, they’re single.  They have all the time in the world.  You don’t.

Lose all ability to pick up the phone, or write two sentences of email to say hi.  (Again, it’s THEIR job to do this, not yours).

Bachelors just LOVE your Mommy stories about little Damien’s poo-poo and pee-pee.  You can NOT talk about this enough.

If your hubby is away for a few days, whine and moan in front of your girlfriend how much you miss him, and how you can’t stand to be alone for that long.

For an added bonus, if you know your girlfriend hasn’t had sex in over a year, let her know how randy you are, and how you can’t wait for Hubby to get back.

Rent a video, and spoon together on the couch while your friend sits on a wooden chair.  Display more affection towards each other than you normally would if no one was there.  (If anyone feels lonely, they can always cuddle with the dog).

If anyone questions your availability, tell them that you’re “Busy”.   The B-Word is the omnipotent excuse.   It’s the get-out-of-jail-free card that gets you off the hook for any friendship duties.  Nobody will dare question you.

You time is worth more.  Fifteen minutes of effort on your part is the equivalent of 6 hours for a single person.

When friends call,  offer to have your 18-month old toddler speak to them.   Go wash the dishes and leave the two alone to bond.    Remember, there is NOTHING people like more than calling long-distance and having a 10-minute conversation imposed on them.  Especially with a rug-rat who has a vocabulary of 14 words.

When visiting, use the 100-0 rule.  It’s up to your friends to come to  your house 100% of the time.  It’s your turn to go to their house, ZERO percent of the time.

When friends stay for the weekend, God Forbid, DO NOT allow for any one-on-one adult time.   The main reason for their visit (whether they realize it or not) is to entertain YOUR children.

If your kids deliberately scream and interupt while your friend is talking to you, stop all conversation at once.  It’s time to focus on the little darlings, and give them the attention they so desperately need.     You can always resume your conversation ten hours later (after the precious little bundles are in bed).

When it’s nap time, tell your kids that your friend will lie in bed with them until they fall asleep.  Even if it’s 2:00 PM in the afternoon.

If your single pal DOES manage to find a partner,  expect that they still make the time to see you as often as they did before (just like you’ve done with them, right?).

If anyone wants to see you, request that you be given four months notice, as every weekend between now and the end of soccer season is “booked up”. (See “busy”).

If you want to see your single friends, however, call them at the last minute and expect they show up within 15 minutes notice.

Mess with their heads.   When they do show up (especially after driving 200 miles to come and see you), gently scold them for not having visited sooner.

Motivating Yourself with More Inspirational Quotes

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If you tell me I cannot do something, you are only encouraging me to prove otherwise.
Paulsen Sveblard,  Paralymics Silver Medalist

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A canyon takes millions of years to form, yet each and every raindrop contributes to its creation.
Professor Thurston McDonnel, University of Arizona, (1936).

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Alone, we are defeated.   Together, we win.
Kvele Avaargärd,  Norse King (circa 982 AD).

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The trick is, to let the customer think they’re always right.
P. J. Northrop, Early 20th Century Industrialist.

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Harsh words can cut the soul deeper than a jagged blade will cut the flesh.
Lady Elizabeth Bronte Uppertwait III (1823).

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Gratitude is the basis of all charity.
Bhadda Sivarkhanasrikithsna (circa 1500 BC).

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Negativity is to failure as gasoline is to a grease fire.
Thomas Peabody, 19th Century American Humorist (1889).

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If children are the future, then we are the present.
Maria Marisolivich, Russian Poet (1736)

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You can visit the past, but you can’t stay there.
Dorothy Lemure, The New Yorker (1928).

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Do not wait for hunger.  Hunt now.
Lakota Sioux proverb

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Laughter, like a sparkling fountain, is best when shared by all.
Swedish Proverb

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Showing your enemy compassion is not a sign of weakness, but one of strength.
Hsug Tsi Lao,  Chinese Emperor (215 AD).

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The bonfires of change are often ignited by a single match of creativity.
Jean-Francois de Couperand, 1782.

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Chocolate has saved more marriages than flowers and kind words have.
Penny McNagg, “How to Save Your Marriage while Saving Yourself”, (1971).

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P.S.   Dear Readers;

In case you’re wondering…

Same as before,  NONE of these quotes are real.

I made them up again, off the top of my head. 

- Friar

Beatle Songs that Suck

Before I ruffle any feathers (like when I wrote about Bob Dylan),  let me just say that I’m a HUGE Beatles fan.

At the risk of being labeled a heretic, though, I’ll go out on a limb and say that not everything the Fab Four touched necessarily turned into gold.  Seems we always hear about their hits, but we never hear about their flops.

Here are some of their songs that didn’t quite make the Top Ten.

Hold Me Tight
This one’s found on the B-side of With the Beatles.  And boy, does it ever SUCK.

Worst.  Beatle Song.   Ever.

They sound like another band trying to impersonate the Beatles, and doing poor job of it.

Hold Me Tight just goes on and ON.  You wish it would just end already.

….Hold me tight, feels so right, etc. etc..      (Okay…Okay…I GET IT!)

Well, to be fair, this one WAS early in their career.

McCartney considered it a “work song”.   Lennon’s comment was that he “was never really interested in it either way”. (*)

It shows.

Within You Without You
Many consider Sergeant Pepper to be one of the most innovative and influential rock albums of all time.  I tend to agree:  the album is excellent.

Most of the album, that is…

I make an exception with George Harrison’s interminable  sitar solo.   I can’t believe John and Paul gave him so much album space for something that at best, is a soundtrack for a low-budget Bollywood movie.

(Thanks for coming out, George, but I think we’ll pass on that whole Eastern-music-mysticism thing).

I always found this song such a pain in the ass…this was the part of the album when I’d always have to get up at and fast-forward to the next song.

(YES…I know I’m dating myself!…This was back in the Dark Ages before CD’s or i-pods).

Bungalow Bill
I’m okay with 98% of this one.  But then there’s that short 5-second clip, where they actually allowed Yoko Ono to SING.

That alone ruins the song (if not the entire White Album).

Ob-la-Di Ob-la-Da
It’s funny, how whenever people want to criticize Paul McCartney, they always bring up this song as a prime example of his worst work.  I think it’s become one of the most hated Beatle songs ever.

I was neutral at first.   The tune wasn’t great, but I wouldn’t turn it off if I heard it played.

But that was before those Classic Rock stations kept playing the damned song over and over, and beating it half to death.  That was probably the tipping point…

Now when I hear Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da, I have to resist the urge to drive into on-coming traffic.

Good Morning, Good Morning
Another dud from Sergeant Pepper’s. The song itself is average-mediocre, but it’s the the end that kills me.

That’s when the music fades, and they start the sound effects of screeching barnyard animals.

Okay, maybe back in the LSD-hazed days of 1967, this was considered novel, because no one had ever put these sounds on a record before.

But it’s 2008 now, and let’s call a spade a spade…this is just plain God-awful NOISE.

Lennon later described this song a “piece of garbage” (*).

At least you gotta admire his honesty.

Revolution 9
What a bunch of tortured-intellectual avant-garde performance art CRAP.

Could someone please explain to me what is appealing about a series random sounds stuck together, while some dick-wad drones on about “Number Nine…Number Nine…” ?

Over a twenty-five year period, I think I might have listened to this abomination, beginning-to-end, maybe TWICE.    And that’s enough for this lifetime, thank you very much.

John…John…John…WHAT were you thinking?

Obviously, Yoko had a hand in this.

Wild Honey Pie
This one is so bad, I can’t describe it.  You have to hear it to believe it.

What that hell….?!?

No, seriously…WHAT THE HELL ?!?!

Hey Bulldog
The equivalent of Hey Jude or Let it Be, this one is NOT.

Similar to Good Morning Good Morning, it’s the last minute of the song that’s the worst.    John and Paul banter between themselves as the music fades.   Then Paul barks like a dog and John ad-libs, telling him to sit and be quiet.   This is followed by maniacal laughter that sounds like a wheezing epileptic seizure instead.

Just plain embarrassing.

What goes on
Ringo sings in this one and harmonizes with the others.  And surprisingly, he doesn’t do a bad job of it, either.

But listen to the lead guitar.

George….ummm…exactly WHAT were you trying to do there?   He sounds like a confused twelve-year-old learning to play a new instrument.

Hard to believe that this was the same guy, who four years later,  came up with  “Something” and “Here comes the Sun“.

Maggie Mae
No, this isn’t the classic pop hit that Rod Stewart sang.  It’s a traditional Liverpool folk song about a hooker robbing a sailor.

This forgettable ditty is found on the Let it Be album.   One suspects it’s a remnant from the cutting-room floor.   Producer Phil Spector probably stuck it in as filler material at the last minute.

The song is only about 40 seconds long, and it sounds like an off-key drunken rehearsal sung in a pub.   (My favorite is Ringo trying to consistently harmonize a few beats too late.)

On top of that, the song doesn’t even end properly:  everyone seemed to just randomly stop playing when they felt like it, with the tape reel still running.  It’s like they suddenly stopped giving a shit.

I think 40 seconds of silence would have been better than this.

But Maggie Mae is so bad, it’s almost funny.    Maybe that’s why they kept it on the album:  for comic relief.

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(*) Steve Turner, “A Hard Day’s Write”,  Prospero Books (1999).