Skip to main content

Dear Baby

Dear Baby,

Your other dad has been playing, for you, "(I Love You) A Bushel and a Peck." Just a few thoughts:

*This song is so famous, it has taken on a kind of folksy status. But just know that it didn't bubble up out of the collective unconscious. It was carefully crafted by the lyricist Frank Loesser--idol of Stephen Sondheim's, man responsible for "Baby, It's Cold Outside." Frank Loesser is the gold standard on Broadway, now and forever.

*A bushel is an actual form of measurement. It's 32 quarts. A peck is 8 quarts.

*Loesser became inspired by units of measurement. "Peck" is followed by "barrel," which is followed by "heap." I love you a barrel and a heap....

*The speaker is overwhelmed by love--and so there's a loose, nutty, stream-of-consciousness quality to the writing. "I love you a bushel and a peck...a bushel and a peck and it beats me all to heck....beats me all to heck how I'll ever tend the farm! Ever tend the farm when I wanna keep my arm AROUND YOU...." Bizarre and sui generis and (seemingly) effortless.

*Who did this song best on Broadway? Faith Prince, who won the Tony Award and achieved immortality as Adelaide, in "Guys and Dolls." I listened to her, and listened and listened, throughout my childhood--and maybe you'll hear her, one day, as well.

That's all. I'm glad we could iron this out!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d_nDTQ9NEzI
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

How to Host a Baby

-You have assumed responsibility for a mewling, puking ball of life, a yellow-lab pup. He will spit his half-digested kibble all over your shoes, all over your hard-cover edition of Jennifer Haigh's novel  Faith . He will eat your tables, your chairs, your "I {Heart] Montessori" magnet, placed too low on the fridge. When you try to watch Bette Davis in  Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte , on your TV, your dog will bark through the murder-prologue, for no apparent reason. He will whimper through Lena Dunham's  Girls , such that you have to rewind several times to catch every nuance of Andrew Rannells's ad-libbing--and, still, you'll have a nagging suspicion you've missed something. Your dog will poop on the kitchen floor, in the hallway, between the tiny bars of his crate. He'll announce his wakefulness at 5 AM, 2 AM, or while you and another human are mid-coitus. All this, and you get outside, and it's: "Don't let him pee on my tulips!" When...
3 comments
Read more

Joshie

  When I was growing up, a class birthday involved Hostess cupcakes. Often, the cupcakes would come in a shoebox, so you could taste a leathery residue (during the party). Times change. You can't bring a treat into a public school, in 2024, because heaven knows what kind of allergies might lurk, in unseen corners, in the classroom. But Joshua's teacher will allow: a dance party, a pajama day, or a guest reader. I chose to bring a story for Joshua's birthday (observed), but I didn't think through the role that anxiety might play in this interaction. We talk, in this house, quite a bit about anxiety; one game-changer, for J, has been a daily list of activities, so that he knows exactly what to expect. He gets a look of profound satisfaction when he sees the agenda; it doesn't really matter what the specific events happen to be. It's just about knowing, "I can anticipate X, Y, and Z." Joshua struggled with his celebration. He wore his nervousness on his f...
2 comments
Read more

Josh at Five

 Joshie's project is "flexibility"; the goal is to see that a plan is just an idea, not a gospel, not a guarantee. This is difficult. Yesterday, we went to a restaurant--billed as "open," with unlocked doors--and the owner informed us of an "error in advertising." But Joshie couldn't accept the word "closed." He threw himself on the floor, then climbed on the furniture. I felt for the owner, until he nervously made a reference to "the glass windows." He imagined that my child might toss himself through a sealed window, like Mary Katherine Gallagher, or like Bruce Willis, in "Die Hard." Then--thank the Lord!--I was able to laugh. The thing that really has therapeutic value for Joshie is: a firetruck. If we are out in public, and he spots a parked truck, he wants to climb on each surface. He breathlessly alludes to the wheels, the door, the windows. If an actual fire station ("fire ocean," in Joshie's parla...
Post a Comment
Read more