This is Day 93 of my self-imposed quarantine. Like many people who are giving the coronavirus pandemic serious attention, I’ve been washing my hands every twenty minutes, just like the CDC and the unfunded-by-us WHO told us to do, since March 13. (Before that, I washed my hands whenever it seemed prudent or necessary.) I’m generally awake 18 hours each day, which means that I currently wash my hands 54 times a day, give or take.
Over the course of this time period, my hands have been worked into a lather for somewhere in the neighborhood of 5,022 times which took a combined total of 27.9 hours or so.
More significant is that I have now sung “Happy Birthday” 5,022 times. Actually, it’s been 10,044 times because I sing it twice through to make sure I get my full twenty seconds worth of disinfecting soap.
I hate “Happy Birthday.” The song, not the sentiment.
It’s a really dumb song, penned sometime around 1893 by a pair of spinster sisters who taught school in Louisville, Kentucky, and since they couldn’t just turn on Sesame Street for the little tykes they mentored, they sang “Good Morning to You” as a class every morning, which contributed to the somewhat alarming 36 percent dropout rate of Kentucky kindergarteners at the end of the 19th Century. The happy birthday lyrics (if you can call them that) appeared in print in 1912, as sung to the original melody of “Good Morning to You.”
Nobody knows for sure about who wrote what, mainly because any idiot could have written either of them.
And as if we didn’t have more important things to worry about, there is even some controversy that the schoolmarms even wrote the song. Had they given it much thought, they would have copyrighted it and collected royalties. Some forward-looking thief at the Summy Company did exactly that and obtained a copyright in 1935, which was subsequently bought by an entertainment conglomerate that charged $700 for each public performance they could track down.
The copyright was due to run out in 2030, but it ran out in 2016 when the ever-probing Supreme Court asked the all-important legal question: “You actually charge real money for that?”
I don’t know anybody who likes the song. Most of us are embarrassed each time it’s sung because it’s always sung by group of people who can’t sing, and then amended by bratty children with some dumb reference to Channel Four that just delays cutting the cake.
Few songs can be sung in total in 20 seconds, let alone twice. As a public service to those with better things to do than I can currently claim, I’ve selected excerpts of some memorable songs that take about 20 seconds to sing. Each is a far cry better than the aforementioned “Happy Birthday.”
My first selection, perhaps fitting for these times, was a hit for Nat King Cole in 1961:
There may be trouble ahead
But while there’s music and moonlight and love and romance
Let’s face the music and dance —Irving Berlin
This next tune was a big hit for Frank Sinatra and it is the only song I know all the words to. My kids used to beg me not to sing the “skin song.”
I’ve got you under my skin.
I’ve got you deep in the heart of me.
So deep in my heart that you’re really a part of me.
I’ve got you under my skin. —Cole Porter
Try as one might, how could anybody who’s seen South Pacific, forget this little ditty?
I’m gonna wash that man right outa my hair,
I’m gonna wash that man right outa my hair,
I’m gonna wash that man right outa my hair,
And send him on his way.
I’m gonna wave that man right outa my arms,
I’m gonna wave that man right outa my arms,
I’m gonna wave that man right outa my arms,
And send him on his way. —Rodgers & Hammerstein
And of all the songs from West Side Story, this is the one that is best enjoyed looking in a mirror while washing your hands.
I feel pretty,
Oh, so pretty,
I feel pretty and witty and bright!
And I pity
Any girl who isn’t me tonight.
I feel charming,
Oh, so charming
It’s alarming how charming I feel!
And so pretty
That I hardly can believe I’m real.
—Music by Leonard Bernstein and lyrics by Stephen Sondheim
Unless you really do feel pretty, your next selection could be this song from the 1962 musical Stop the World—I Want to Get Off. Sammy Davis Jr., had a huge hit with this tune.
What kind of fool am I
Who never fell in love
It seems that I’m the only one
That I have been thinking of
What kind of man is this
An empty shell
A lonely cell in which
An empty heart must dwell
What kind of fool am I —Anthony Newley & Leslie Bricusse
And what’s life without a little Elton John thrown into the mix?
You know I’m still standing better than I ever did
Looking like a true survivor, feeling like a little kid
I’m still standing after all this time
Picking up the pieces of my life without you on my mind
I’m still standing yeah yeah yeah
I’m still standing yeah yeah yeah —Elton John & Bernie Taupin
And what repertoire doesn’t need an old-fashioned torch song? Julie London first recorded this one in 1955.
Now you say you’re lonely
You cry the long night through
Well, you can cry me a river, cry me a river
I cried a river over you —Arthur Hamilton
Diana Ross & the Supremes, anyone?
Stop in the name of love
Before you break my heart
Stop in the name of love
Before you break my heart
Think it over
Think it over —Lamont Dozier
From the 1966 Broadway hit, Sweet Charity, comes this show-stopper. It was sung on the stage by Gwen Verdon; in the 1969 movie adaptation, it was sung by Shirley MacLaine.
If they could see me now
That little gang of mine
I’m eating fancy chow
And drinking fancy wine
I’d like those stumblebums
To see for a fact
The kind of top-drawer, first-rate chums
I attract
If my friends could see me now —Dorothy Fields & Cy Coleman
And then there’s this bubble-gum hit from Simon & Garfunkle with “The 59th Street Bridge Song.”
Slow down, you move too fast
You got to make the morning last
Just kicking down the cobblestones
Looking for fun and feeling groovy
Ba da-da da-da da-da, feeling groovy —Paul Simon
Although Joni Mitchell had a hit with “Twisted,” the original was from the jazz vocal trio, Lambert, Hendricks and Ross, the latter of whom wrote the lyrics.
My analyst told me
That I was right out of my head
The way he described it
He said I’d be better dead than live
I didn’t listen to his jive
I knew all along
That he was all wrong
And I knew that he thought
I was crazy but I’m not
Oh no —Annie Ross & Wardell Gray
From the world of commercials, circa 1958, comes this memorable jingle from Procter & Gamble:
Mr. Clean gets rid of
Dirt and grime
And grease in just a minute
Mr. Clean will clean
Your whole house
And everything that’s in it
Mr. Clean, Mr. Clean, Mr. Clean
And saving the high-brow for last…from Giacomo Puccini’s Turandot comes “Nessun dorma.”
Dilegua, oh notte
Tramontate, stelle
Tramontate, stelle
All’alba vincerò
Vincerà
Vincerò
Photo montage by Courtney A. Liska
Summer Chicken
This is something of a non-recipe for a dish we’ve enjoyed a few times over the last few weeks. It’s easy to throw together, and will provide for some splendid flavors.
Roast a small (3-1/2—4 lbs.), trussed chicken in a 425° oven after seasoning the bird with salt and pepper. Cook the chicken on its side in a cast iron skillet for 20 minutes; turn and cook on its other side for 20 minutes. Finally, turn it breast side up and cook other 20 minutes, or until its juices run clear. Cover and let rest for 10 minutes.
Alternately, buy a rotisserie chicken from the market and use that.
The carved chicken should then be placed on a bed of Romaine lettuce, and garnished with tomatoes, hard-cooked eggs, roasted red peppers, asparagus, green beans, olives or whatever else is to your liking. I then add some boiled potatoes and carrots, still warm, to the mix. Top with garlicky croutons.
The dressing is made from mayonnaise, a good dollop or two of Dijon mustard, a dash of fresh lemon juice or red wine vinegar, some finely minced garlic and whatever herbs that might be fresh from the garden—parsley, chervil, tarragon, thyme, chives, etc.
Serve with a crusty baguette and a brightly flavored Pinot Grigio from Italy, or a Sauvignon Blanc from New Zealand.
I loved the way you & Geri sang Happy Birthday to me — and your summer salad was out of this world!! And, like it or not, I plan to sing Happy Birthday to you in August. Cheers, and Love. ~ Eve