Don’t Know Y ~ Nora Jones

Nora Jones brings wonderful style and sound to us.  You can’t miss that distinctive quality of hers.  I’ve been waiting to share this performance with you for sometime.

On Thursday Sylvia and I were sitting in a Taco Boy Restaurant having lunch with our son Bryant.  As we enjoying our vegetarian burritos, I heard a familiar song on the restaurant sound system.  It was Nora Jones singing Why.  Bryant said that Patches (Briana’s dog that passed away last year) would howl whenever they played a Nora Jones song at their house.  I thought today would be a good time to share not only the above play on the original song, but the real thing as well.  I hope you enjoy.

Angel Flight

A link to this video was sent to me by my friend Clarence.  I have known him since we were in first or second grade together.  We frequently exchanged e-mail messages.  Clarence is a veteran,and in honor of him and all who have served their country in uniform I offer you the following:

My Dear Country

Election day is just three days away.  Here is Norah Jones’ take on it.  I hope you enjoy it too.  (Lyrics are below the song.)

‘Twas Halloween and the ghosts were out,
And everywhere they’d go, they shout,
And though I covered my eyes I knew,
They’d go away.
But fear’s the only thing I saw,
And three days later ’twas clear to all,
That nothing is as scary as election day.
But the day after is darker,
And darker and darker it goes,
Who knows, maybe the plans will change,
Who knows, maybe he’s not deranged.
The news men know what they know, but they,
Know even less than what they say,
And I don’t know who I can trust,
For they come what may.
’cause we believed in our candidate,
But even more it’s the one we hate,
I needed someone I could shake,
On election day.
But the day after is darker,
And deeper and deeper we go,
Who knows, maybe it’s all a dream,
Who knows if I’ll wake up and scream.
I love the things that you’ve given me,
I cherish you my dear country,
But sometimes I don’t understand,
The way we play.
I love the things that you’ve given me,
And most of all that I am free,
To have a song that I can sing,
On election day.

GVSU Lip Sync

Granddaughter, Briana, is a freshman in the Honors College of Grand Valley State University.  So when her dad sent me a link to this video I followed the link and decided to share it with you.  Briana isn’t in the video.  It was done my other students at GVSU.  It’s quite the student project, isn’t it?

The Man From Snowy River

Last Saturday, you had a chance to meet Clancy of the Overflow here on Secondary Roads.  Today, I’d like to share another poem by Banjo Paterson.  This time it is not sung by Slim Dusty, it is read by Frankie J Holden.  It’s as Australian as you can get. Banjo tells the story of the tough horsemen of the Snowy Mountains. Footage is from the movie Man From Snowy River presented by Michael Edgley International & Cambridge Films.

Slim Dusty also sings this, but I thought you might enjoy this version better.


Clancy of the Overflow

At one time, Andrew Barton “Banjo” Paterson was a very famous poet.  He was born in Australia and after school entered a law office, where he became a lawyer.  He also wrote poems and stories.  Eventually he gave up the law practice to be a journalist.  You are probably more familiar with his poem, Waltzing Matilda.  Nevertheless, Clancy of the Overflow is my favorite poem by Banjo Paterson.  Here are the words:

I had written him a letter which I had, for want of better
Knowledge, sent to where I met him down the Lachlan, years ago,
He was shearing when I knew him, so I sent the letter to him,
Just `on spec’, addressed as follows, ‘Clancy, of The Overflow.’

And an answer came directed in a writing unexpected,
(And I think the same was written with a thumb-nail dipped in tar)
‘Twas his shearing mate who wrote it, and verbatim I will quote it:
‘Clancy’s gone to Queensland droving, and we don’t know where he are.’

In my wild erratic fancy visions come to me of Clancy
Gone a-droving ‘down the Cooper’ where the Western drovers go;
As the stock are slowly stringing, Clancy rides behind them singing,
For the drover’s life has pleasures that the townsfolk never know.

And the bush hath friends to meet him, and their kindly voices greet him
In the murmur of the breezes and the river on its bars,
And he sees the vision splendid of the sunlit plains extended,
And at night the wond’rous glory of the everlasting stars.

I am sitting in my dingy little office, where a stingy
Ray of sunlight struggles feebly down between the houses tall,
And the foetid air and gritty of the dusty, dirty city
Through the open window floating, spreads its foulness over all

And in place of lowing cattle, I can hear the fiendish rattle
Of the tramways and the buses making hurry down the street,
And the language uninviting of the gutter children fighting,
Comes fitfully and faintly through the ceaseless tramp of feet.

And the hurrying people daunt me, and their pallid faces haunt me
As they shoulder one another in their rush and nervous haste,
With their eager eyes and greedy, and their stunted forms and weedy,
For townsfolk have no time to grow, they have no time to waste.

And I somehow rather fancy that I’d like to change with Clancy,
Like to take a turn at droving where the seasons come and go,
While he faced the round eternal of the cash-book and the journal —
But I doubt he’d suit the office, Clancy, of ‘The Overflow.’

Clancy was a real person — Thomas Gerald Clancy.  As the song indicates he was a sheep shearer who left that to become a cowboy.  Later, he gave that up to be a gold prospector.  If you love the outdoors, perhaps you too can relate to Clancy.

I know about this poem because of Slim Dusty.  I shared a song of his last week.  Here is Slim’s rendition of Clancy of the Overflow.  Enjoy.