This will be a micro blog as we are leaving shortly for Langford, New York where daughter Shanah and her husband Jonathan (Shanathan, as they are known around our house) will reenact their wedding for the benefit of all those mainlanders who were unable to hop across the pond to Hawaii for their actual wedding last January.
The event’s theme is Blue Hawaii and my husband Ken, who, in addition to his many other talents, is a rocking ukulele player, will accompany the happy couple on their rendition of “Give Me Someone to Lava.”
It’s about these two volcanoes.
The past couple of weeks he has been rehearsing the song, with the result that, try as I might to dislodge it, the ear worm version of “Give Me Someone to Lava” has been squirming around in my brain and driving me half mad. Not only are its rhymes tortured, but, as continuity goes, “Give Me Someone to Lava,” is deeply flawed. To wit:
There’s a lonely boy volcano who sings about wanting someone to lava, not realizing that there’s another, girl volcano rising from the bottom of the sea, inspired by his song. Before she emerges from the deep, however, sad day for him, he becomes extinct. A tragic tale of star-crossed love? If only she had grown faster? If only he could have hung on a little longer?
Up the female volcano finally rises above the surface of the ocean, causing the extinct volcano to suddenly become un-extinct and, aloha! Together they make a whole lot of lava, presumably wreaking widespread destruction and cataclysmic loss of life.
It would be as if Juliette, upon awakening from her drug-induced sleep, were to see Romeo, dead from the poison he has just imbibed . . . and then he comes back to life and everybody lives happily ever after.
As my mother used to say, “Scenes that probably never happened.”
Or maybe I’m just reading too much into what is. essentially, a sweet song about two people finally finding love. D’you think?
In the meantime, what the Heck? I’m lobbying for a place on stage during the rendition of Give Me Someone to Lava. I could wield the Thunder Stick – thunder being an in-the-ballpark facsimile of the sound a a volcano makes erupting. I figure it’s my one chance to be like one of those hippy dippy groupie chicks in the sixties, the ones in tie-dyed mini dresses. You know who I’m talking about — the ones who, because they could neither play an instrument nor sing, were handed a tambourine and instructed to go for it.
Only for the hippy dippy groupie chick, substitute a 63 year old soon- to-be grandmother.
In a moo moo.
Did I mention that I’m going to be a grandmother?
P.S. The wedding is now over and Give Me Someone to Lava was a huge hit, aided in no small part by You Know Who on the Thunder Stick.