And He Even Used a Hammer That Resembles the One on the Soviet Flag!

UPDATE!  Linked at IMAO, with High Praise!

Back in 2010, a 26 year-old middle school assistant football coach wrote a country song, critical of the Young President.  It's actually quite good! 

I researched the song today, along with its ensuing kerfuffle, and found Michelle Malkin's report, published contemporaneously with what transpired.

The young coach sent a video of his song via email to everyone in his personal address book, which included several parents of students in his school. Enough of them complained to the school that the head coach was compelled to fire the aspiring songwriter for engaging in politically incorrect conduct, or some other such trumped-up personnel manual violation.  I somehow missed it when the video first hit cyberspace, but, having received it today in my in-box, I'm joining the cause to make it viral again.  Here's another spot to see it, and here's the -- appropriately titled -- "When You're Holding a Hammer (Everything Looks Like a Nail"):



I like it!  Can't you just envision the Line Dance?  Maybe Michelle could wear her "skinny jeans" and dance to it at a fundraiser in Nashville!

You'll probably see this again closer to November.

Monday's Musical Interlude

Now, this qualifies for the adjective, "Amazing."  Prepare to be amazed.



Was I right, or what!

Stolen from Facebook.

Oh, and it's Labor Day.  I still feel pretty much the same way about it today as I did last year.

It's Boom-Boom Time!

All right!  It's time to start getting pumped about Mardi Gras!

Moogie's Mansion is one block off the major Uptown parade route.  There are usually in excess of 20 parades that roll during the last week and a half of Carnival, and the marching bands always practice drumlines while they're waiting to get started.  Consequently, hearing drumlines always gets me pumped for Mardi Gras, and I thought I'd share a bit of that excitement with you. 

This is the Sophie Wright Marching Band, Spirit Squads, and chaperones doing an around-the-neighborhood practice run yesterday, training for the miles and miles and miles that they'll march over the next several weeks.  The little guy on his dad's shoulders in the street is our nearly-2-year-old neighbor, Ren.  He was spitting a cloud of unswallowed graham crackers from his mouth as he clapped and cheered for the band -- his dad told me that when the drums started up, Ren yelled, "Boom-boom, Daddy!  Boom-boom!  Go see!  Go see!  Go see!!!"  So, they went to go see, go see, go see!!!  Without even finishing his snack!  They're never gonna be able to get that kid to move away from the parade route.

Without further ado, Sophie Wright's finest:

Welcome to my World.  They'll do this every day for the foreseeable future.  Often.  They and their sponsors work so very hard.  Ya gotta learn to love it, and I have!

A Brief Musical Interlude . . .

. . . before the Hog-trouncing of the Reddish Wet Heffalumps commences to be administered on COLLEGE GAMEDAY.

Fourteen seconds of Number 2 Grandson, on the road to Carnegie Hall.

A Musical Interlude

Can't resist!  This is The Son's entry in a Little Rock radio station competition.  The youngster sounds pretty good, if I do say so myself!!

Fundraising for the Fishers

I missed Jazzfest this year with all the wedding festivities and recovery, but I may have been given a musical mulligan courtesy of the BP Thing.

Typical of New Orleans, when something really good or really bad happens, funds must be raised to help out neighbors in need. And the standing rule in this city mandates that there be good music and good food on hand at all fundraising activities.

The local seafood industry has taken a serious kick in the chops since a giant bit of submarine flatulence caused the the Deepwater rig to do its thing, shutting down oysterbeds and fishing waters.

Hence, just announced for this Sunday's schedule: The Gulf Coast Benefit on the riverbank outside Mardi Gras World featuring Lenny Kravitz, Dr. John, and lots of local talent. I haven't heard anything about the food yet, but the music promises to be sweet.

We'll just see how tired out the old man is after three days of golf tournament.

Love me some Lenny.