I’ve spent the last four evenings working at my keyboard. No, not the typinglike one, the pianolike one.
Doing what? Making a version of the Macarena. We have a gig this Saturday in Hawgtown playing for Donauschwabens. No, not Dachshunds. Dachshunds would want to hear…oh…You ain’t nothin’ but a hound dog…How much is that doggie in the window…Black Dog by Fred Zeppelin…Move it on over (in which George Thorogood frequently says, “Move over little dog, a big old dog is movin’ in…) That’s what Dachshunds want to hear. Donauschwabens want to hear the Macarena. So they can slap themselves all over and wiggle their butts. (Like a Dachshund?) Come to think of it, the Macarena is sort of like the Latin version of the Schuhplattler!
The Macarena is now at least 10 years old. I used to have a version of it, sequenced, on my old keyboard. It was a pretty good version. But unless you’re fluent in Spanish, it’s a bitch to sing. It moves very quickly. But the old Peavey keyboard is dead. And we hadn’t played the Macarena for a long time, and I didn’t like to sing it anymore (not knowing what part was coming up next cuz we never played it anymore…) But the Hawgtown Donauschwabens said it was one of their big tunes of the night…so…I’ve resurrected it on the new Korg. No, not the Corgi. I don’t think Corgis and Dachshunds would really get along. Anyway, we’ve never played for Hawgtown Donauschwabens before. We have played for Lunchbucket Donauschwabens many times over the years. But not the Hawgtown ones. So we want to impress them, eh?
Ve must gif ze peeples vhat zey vant, ja?
3 comments:
Do you ever feel life is going to the dogs? Speaking of dogs,my dear demented special needs puppy, Farley, is now fourteen. He is losing his sense(s) of hearing, smelling, and taste. His heart, however, according to the vet, is very strong, and physically he is in good shape. But more and more, he goes off into these dog spaces... chasing the rabbit in some distance memory...
Ah, this is just like LaLaLeo. He is now also about 14. He stands at the top of the stairs staring off into the distance while something sneaks up on him from behind because he can't hear it anymore. Or stares at you sadly, trying to recognize the blurry body just feet away. Sleeps a lot, but that's partly out of boredom. Still likes to romp with Cosmicat though.
Life going to the dogs...
Think about phrases:
It's a dog's life.
...going to the dogs.
I wouldn't treat a dog that way.
You dog.
I'm in the doghouse.
As with most things, going to the dogs may be good or bad, depending.
And speaking of old...are you old when you start having to use Depends? Or are you just a compulsive gambler?
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