It’s Superbowl Sunday! that day when two teams of very large men in very padded outfits will try to kill each other for funzies and a huge, gawdy ring.
I don’t watch sports – it’s just not my thing – but I do enjoy the half time shows, and the award winning advertisements that sponsors save up for this special day.
What’s a ‘lunk’?
I have recently rediscovered (for the umpteenth time) an entire box of music, lyrics, short stories and pics stretching from the late 1930s to 1949. The collection once belonged to my late mother-in-law, Penny Blythe. Since she was born in 1924, by my calculation, she started collecting Hit Parader, Sing, Hit Radio Songs, Big Song Magazine, Song Hit Folio, etc. when she was a young teenager. They contain hundred of song lyrics and the list of performers is endless. Some names I am familiar with but many I’ve never heard of.
The sixties were a glorious time, unlikely to ever be repeated or rivalled. The fifties had been a cautious decade, where women stayed home after marrying to take care of their men, kids didn’t sass parents, and no one questioned authority in the family or in their country. Well, at least on the surface.
Bullseye Records of Canada
Segarini: Don't Believe a Word I Say 