Posted on 12/23/2020 9:41:26 PM PST by mylife
Fun fact: You can sing the words to “Amazing Grace” with the tune from “Gilligan’s Island” and you can also sing the words from “Gilligan’s Island” theme to the tune of “Amazing Grace”.
He was probably short calls on his neighbor’s house.
God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen too.
Song I really hate, is “Rockin Robin.” Tweedle-lee-dee-dee-dee, tweedle-lee-dee-dee!
#24. You “really hate” the song “Rockin’ Robin” by Bobby Day? Sir, you are a cad, anti-rock & roll, and “a best rock record denier”.
If you don’t like “Over and Over”, well, I can forgive you, but “Rockin Robin” is one of our finest musical/dance songs memories. “Actual title “Rock-in Robin”, Aug. 1958, #2 on Billboard but #1 for three weeks. Night dances in a little shack on the water at camp. Nobody sat through that song, ever!
I will pray for you!!!!
MM - an old time cocker and an even older Rockin Roller, and proud of it!!
Rock and Roll Will Always Stand, It Will Never Die!!!
This guy should be thankful that his neighbors weren’t fans of Barney & Friends.
The Barney song was by the CIA against terror suspects. A judge ruled it was cruel and unusual punishment with a large financial settlement to the suspects if I recall correctly. I think one of the guys said something like “I laughed when I first heard it and said this will never work. After two days I begged them to stop and told them everything “.
I was trapped on that ride once for what seemed like hours. I kept thinking that if I had a .22 to shoot at those annoying figures, it would have been an enjoyable ride.
It was a guy and two gals, maybe in their mid-thirties, in an advanced state of intoxication yet still having a grand time as they stumbled along, their arms around each other for support.
As we passed the giggling and laughing trio, one of them saw us in our cold sober state and she said in a high, sing-song voice "You'll beeeeeeee sooooorrrreeeee!" before trailing off in peals of drunken laughter.
Well, the drinks were called "Nippers" (the trademark of the bar) and I don't recall what was in them other than rum and some fruity addition, but when I got the first round for my crew, a couple of people said they didn't think there was any alcohol in them.
I took them back up to the bar and said so to the bartender.
In my experience, a bartender might take a a hollow swiggle stick, obtain and then taste a sample.
I should have known trouble was ahead, when instead of doing that, without even asking a question or sampling the drinks, he turned around and in each hand grabbed bottles of the two key alcoholic components of the drink then began simultaneously pouring both of them into a drink with the command "Say when."
Well, they were so alcoholic that they couldn't be consumed, so, I, not wishing to let good booze go to waste, helpfully consumed them and got more drinks for them.
After that, my memory of that day on that island beach became somewhat discontinuous, resembling a series of snapshots or one or two second videos instead of a continuous memory stream.
One of those snapshot is all of us singing the Gilligan Island song (I was the youngster of the group in my late forties...:)
A picture memorializing the day for me since it was the only one with me in it showed the group of us on the beach at the time we were merrily singing it, and my bare torso had already begun to turn a bright shad of crimson bordering on maroon.
A good time was being had by all.
When it came time to leave, I was on my knees, and gathered up several chairs and a small cooler to carry back with me. In my state, as I attempted to rise to my feet, before I could even get off my knees, I lost my balance and pitched forward, hands and arms totally occupied with the chairs and coolers necessary for a comfortable and jolly interlude on a Caribbean beach.
Under normal circumstances, most people pitching forth into the sand might simply drop all that stuff and break their impact with the sand, but in my compromised state, my brain didn't do that, and as my face rushed towards the oncoming sand, I involuntarily tucked my chin and the crown of my head impacted the sand, significantly jamming my cervical spine.
Needless to say, for the remaining five days of our sailing journey, I was unable to turn my head at all from side to side. That was an unfortunate alcohol related injury, and to this day I still get a slight grinding sound in my neck when I look side to side.
Let that be a lesson to you, young man. Always drop the cooler.
Here are two links that provide a little context...and it should be pointed out...this was largely not a place for college kids...it was largely middle aged people in a mood to party...heh, people on boats.
This link looks a lot more wholesome and clean than when I was there!
The Barefoot Man with his trademark song: "At Nippers". This song hits the mark. Perfectly.
Aaaaaahhhhhhh
That was a hilarious episode...
death to the purple dinosaur, DEATH I SAY !!!
Pretty sure it’s a larger percentage than that. #scottsvalleyrepresenting
That’s a sweet area. Used to have a horse down in Ben Lomond. Lot’s of hippie-dippys. Scotts Valley=Silicone Gulch.
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