THANK YOU, CHRYS FEY & HAPPY HALLOWEENIE

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Recently, the delightful Chrys Fey, who blogs at Write With Fey, had a Rafflecopter on her blog. Did I enter?

You better believe it!

And guess who won?

Moi. Mi. Si. Oui.

Chrys sent me an adorable little silver ghostie on a necklace, two Halloween pencils, TWO OF HER E-BOOKS, and a Halloween card with a sweet message.

I'm in love with my little ghostie, and I adore Chrys Fey, who is a fellow Floridian.

Take a look at all this loot:

The e-books she gave me are

and

Thank you, Chrys Fey!

What are you doing tonight for Halloween (that is, if you live in a country where you celebrate the craziness of sending children out to beg for candy)?  Willy Dunne Wooters and Favorite Young Man will be here soon. We'll eat dinner, and then we'll hide in the back of the house.

I stopped giving out treats after children nearly knocked me down in an attempt to grab my candy, or maybe they were after a boob.

Maaaaaaaxxxxwelllll, no egging cars. Or houses. Or anything else unless you're scrambling some eggs for the one you love.

Happy Halloween!


Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

THE CEPHALOPOD COFFEEHOUSE: IN THE MIDST OF LIFE BY JENNIFER WORTH

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

It's time for The Cephalopod Coffeehouse, hosted by The Armchair Squid.

The idea is simple: On the last Friday of each month, post about the best book you've finished over the past month while visiting other bloggers doing the same.  In this way, we'll all have the opportunity to share our thoughts with other enthusiastic readers.

My book for October is In the Midst of Life by Jennifer Worth. Some of you might recall that Jennifer Worth was the nurse/midwife whose memoirs became the background for the popular show we in the U.S. can see on PBS: Call the Midwife.

In the Midst of Life is Worth's final book. As a midwife, Worth assisted mothers and babies at the beginning of life. Later, as a nurse and ward sister in various hospitals, Worth assisted many patients at the end of life.

The focus of Worth's final book is one that's dear to my heart: that is, doctors and families interfere when patients approach death, instead of allowing for a natural death.

What Worth describes as "modern medicine" often prolongs life unnecessarily, and causes the dying untold suffering. She recalls her grandfather's natural death. The family did not call the doctor until her grandfather passed away--that outcome typical of the time period. He died in 1956.

How the world of medicine changed, as Worth documents in her descriptions of many cases:

A catheter was in place all the time, and this avoided incontinence of urine, which would have made the bedsores worse, but it had to be changed every few days, and kept clean, which was unpleasant and possibly embarrassing for Dr. Hyem. Unless we cleaned his mouth every two hours with glycerine, his tongue became so dry that the skin peeled off, and ribbons of grey, stringy stuff could be pulled from his throat. 

The doctors saw none of this. Junior doctors sometimes get an idea of the suffering and humiliation that patients endure, and what nurses do, but a consultant seldom does. The more senior a doctor, the less he knows of the unpleasant details. . . . 

Dr. Hyem died peacefully, five weeks after a successful resuscitation from cardiac failure.

I don't provide all of Worth's details regarding the patient's suffering, but as you can see from Worth's description, the man died, was resuscitated, and suffered horribly for several weeks, when the doctors finally allowed him to die.

I feel great sympathy for dying patients whose doctors or families won't "let go." At the nursing home, we cared for a woman who had cancer. Her pain increased daily. Her family wouldn't allow an increase in her pain medication because they didn't want her to be groggy and unable to communicate with them. She finally died one evening after an assistant brushed her filthy teeth, an act that probably dislodged bacteria that went to her heart and lungs to kill her.

I understand if you don't want to know such details. I understand if you don't want to think about it. All I can tell you is that I have a DO NOT RESUSCITATE order in place. Willy Dunne Wooters and my children have strict instructions that no unusual measures will be taken to keep me alive, and that includes--especially--no feeding tube.

In the Midst of Life earns The Janie Junebug Seal of Highest Approval. I ordered it from The Book Depository in London. You can order the book through Amazon, but they'll get it from a third-party seller. They don't have it in stock.

I wish you self-education and beneficial reading with Jennifer Worth's book. I also hope you join The Cephalopod Coffeehouse. Please visit The Armchair Squid to sign up.


Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

SHE'S THE GIGGLE AT A FUNERAL

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

The song for my most recent Battle of the Bands was Hozier's Take Me To Church (click HERE to read the original post). When I announced the winner--Hozier, of course--I mentioned that my favorite lines in the song are

My lover has a sense of humor.
She's the giggle at a funeral.

What a great use of words. She's doesn't giggle at a funeral. She's not the giggler at a funeral. She IS the giggle.

That metaphor really gets to me. I want to be the giggle at a funeral. It's not something I can explain. I think you understand it, or you don't.

I have attended two funerals: my dad's, and several years later, my mother's. I can't remember going to any other funerals. My brother died quite some time ago. I didn't go to the funeral. I couldn't leave town, I couldn't afford to go. I didn't know him very well. Choose the excuse you prefer.

Is it weird that I'm fifty-six years old, and I've only been to two funerals? Now that I think about it, maybe I can keep up my no funeral attendance streak. Oh, damn. I remember another funeral I attended, but I barely knew the guy. It was a long time ago. I don't think it counts.

Most of you probably don't read my responses to comments, so you wouldn't have seen these on my blog:

Oh, how we laughed after my dad's funeral. The pastor gave the most awful . . . eulogy? Except it wasn't a eulogy. He barely mentioned my dad. He spoke about a serial killer who found Christ before he was executed. My oldest nephew said he was pretty sure he'd seen the story in Reader's Digest. During the "eulogy," we stared in shock. Afterwards, we couldn't quit laughing. When my dad's ashes were buried, one of my sisters put her face to the opening in the ground to shout at the serial killer and ask if he was down there. My mom looked at the very sober young man from the funeral home and said, I raised a bunch of nuts.


When my mom died, we couldn't quit laughing during her funeral. The pastor had asked us about special memories we had of our mom. We brought up frizzy home perms and wearing ugly matching dresses that my mom sewed. Oh, how we laughed.

I want so badly to be the giggle at a funeral. I'm not sure how to go about it if I don't go to funerals. Maybe if I'm the giggle all the time, then I can be considered the giggle at the funeral. Yeah. I want to be the giggle as often as possible.

I have a new goal. I like it.

The dishwasher was repaired, but other stuff broke. The heating and AC guy needs to visit me.

I continue to edit. I'm grateful for the work.

I'll see you Friday, October 30th, for The Cephalopod Coffeehouse. Sign up for this bookish bloghop with The Armchair Squid. I'll be here again on Sunday, November 1st, for The Battle of the Bands. This time I'll be ready and not pull a battle out of my ass at the last minute.

Sing us out please, Billie Joe.


Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

BOTB: KIND OF LIKE REAGAN OVER CARTER, ONLY NOT AT ALL

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

I have the results for you from my October 15th Battle of the Bands. It's a landslide.

HOZIER          25

DEMI LOVATO  4

I'm not upset about the landslide. I prefer Hozier myself, but this battle gave me an opportunity to check out some covers of his beautiful song, Take Me To Church.

In the following video, Irish singer and songwriter Andrew Hozier-Byrne explains the meaning behind the song:





Now let's listen to Hozier sing Take Me To Church live from New York on Saturday Night:





My favorite lines are the following: "My lover has a sense of humor/ She's the giggle at a funeral."

I hope I'm the giggle at a funeral.


Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

P.S. Who's with me in voting for Andrew Hozier-Byrne as a major hottie? Oh, and Hozier, hop into my bed and sing me . . . to sleep.

LAST DAY TO VOTE IN MY BOTB

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

You have until midnight EST today, Tuesday, October 20th, to vote in my Battle of the Bands. Hozier is beating the crap out of Demi Lovato on Take Me To Church. If you're a Demi fan, it's now or never.

It's not a shut out, but it won't be close at all unless you Demi people show up en masse.

In your comment, please tell me if you vote for Demi or Hozier.

Click HERE to read the original post.

My mistakes on this BOTB are too numerous to count. Besides, I only have ten fingers and ten toes. I shouldn't have gotten the date confused, which forced me to come up with my two contenders at the last minute. I also shouldn't have believed the article I read on The Huffington Post, that dirty rag of yellow journalism, that said something to the effect of If you like Hozier's Take Me To Church, then wait till you hear Demi Lovato sing it.

Apparently the point was that we would still like Hozier better than Demi.

I should have posted Hozier singing live, as Demi does, because Hozier's video is so good and moving that it's impossible to ignore. An inability to ignore the video helps lead to more votes, in my humble opinion.

For the fun of it, let's listen to Take Me To Church covered by someone else, but you can't vote for this group.

Sing us out, please, Neon Jungle.


Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

OCTOBER 15 BATTLE OF THE BANDS: HOZIER V. DEMI LOVATO

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

I almost missed the current Battle of the Bands. I confoosed the date, along with how to spell certain words.

It's time for the October 15, 2015, Battle of the Bands.

Mr. Stephen T. McCarthy provides us with this information about the bloghop:

The whole thing is really quite simple: You select two different versions of the same song (versions  you feel might give each other some competition in the voting) and you post them on the 1st and the 15th of each month. On the 7th and 21st of each month, you add your own personal vote to the mix, total up all the votes and announce the winner on your blog.

Beyond that, just try to have fun with it and let your readers/voters have fun with it.

All righty, then. Let's have fun!

I feel moved every time I hear Take Me To Church. Our contenders are Hozier and Demi Lovato. Please vote for your preferred version of this song in the comments. Therefore, you will vote for Hozier or Demi Lovato. I'll reveal the winner on October 21st.

Here's Hozier:



Here's Demi Lovato:





Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug


Lyrics for Take Me To Church by Hozier

My lover's got humour
She's the giggle at a funeral
Knows everybody's disapproval
I should've worshiped her sooner

If the heavens ever did speak
She's the last true mouthpiece
Every Sunday's getting more bleak
A fresh poison each week

"We were born sick," you heard them say it

My church offers no absolutes
She tells me, "Worship in the bedroom."
The only heaven I'll be sent to
Is when I'm alone with you

I was born sick
But I love it
Command me to be well
Aaay. Amen. Amen. Amen.

[Chorus 2x:]
Take me to church
I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies
I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife
Offer me that deathless death
Good God, let me give you my life

If I'm a pagan of the good times
My lover's the sunlight
To keep the Goddess on my side
She demands a sacrifice

Drain the whole sea
Get something shiny
Something meaty for the main course
That's a fine-looking high horse
What you got in the stable?
We've a lot of starving faithful

That looks tasty
That looks plenty
This is hungry work

[Chorus 2x:]
Take me to church
I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies
I'll tell you my sins so you can sharpen your knife
Offer me my deathless death
Good God, let me give you my life

No Masters or Kings
When the Ritual begins
There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin

In the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene
Only then I am human
Only then I am clean
Ooh oh. Amen. Amen. Amen.

[Chorus 2x:]
Take me to church
I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies
I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife
Offer me that deathless death
Good God, let me give you my life

GOOD DAY SUNSHINE

Dear Hearts and Gentle People,

You shan't see me for a while. I must edit, pay loads of attention to Franklin and Penelope, and continue to clean my house. Cleaning represents a never ending battle. As soon as I finish cleaning my house, the first part that I cleaned is dirty. As soon as I finish the laundry, more laundry is in the hamper.

Admittedly, I am fussy.

I hope to see you for The Battle of the Bands on October 21st. If I can't make it, I'll let you know.

A gift for you: a better photo of Penelope. Less fear in the eyes, perhaps?

a new love

Sing us out, please, Paul.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

FRANKLIN FRIDAY: WE GOT US SOME TRUBBLES

Hi, Every Buddy. It's me, Franklin the Bordernese. We have us some trubbles.

I don't wanna make any buddy feel bad, but some buddy poopied in the house twice this week. I'm pretty sure it wasn't mom. I know I didn't poopie in the house, though I did once a long time ago when my tummy was upset.

The some buddy with the poopies is probably Penlapee. Those noisy men keep working on the old house next door. They scare us. I am big and brave. If I really need to go, then I'll go out in the yard.

But Penlapee is little. She hasn't lived here very long. She doesn't feel brave enough to march right out into the yard and make a poopie, no matter how noisy the men are.

Won't those men never be done?

But don't you worry. We keep teaching Penlapee. We never yell at her.

Mom took more pitchers of Penlapee:

Pennlapee lived in a kennel almost her whole life. She has lots to learn. It's my job to teach her. Mom helps.

Okay I love you bye-bye.

Franklin the Bordernese


I just have to tell you that Penlapee's poopie is very, very stinky. I would rather sniff this lady. I know she doesn't mind:

MOVIE WEEKEND: ST. VINCENT

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Today I present a movie I like very much in spite of its stereotypical characters. It's St. Vincent (2014, Rated PG-13, Available on DVD).

A mom named Maggie (Melissa McCarthy) and her son Oliver (Jaeden Lieberher) move in next to grumpy old Vincent (Bill Murray). Because Maggie has to work long hours, Vincent ends up babysitting Oliver. Vincent drinks quite a bit, takes Oliver to the track, and introduces Oliver to his pregnant prostitute/friend, Daka (Naomi Watts).

This movie is about as trite and stereotypical as it gets. We have the crusty old s.o.b. who is really a good guy, the kid who is smaller than everyone else and gets beat up until the crusty old s.o.b. teaches the kid to fight, an Irish priest who teaches the kid's class at his new school, the hooker with a heart of gold, the nasty mobster-type guy who is determined to collect from Vincent (played, of course, by Terrence Howard who is black because almost all bad guys are black), and the tenacious single mom who works so much to keep food on the table that she doesn't have enough time to spend with her son.

Now take all those hackneyed, uninspired characters and plot points and throw them out the window. Yes, they're still in the movie, but you know about them; therefore, you can ignore them and lose yourself in this tender, funny, poignant film.

The characters and the actors who play them are great. Never mind that Bill Murray's accent comes and goes from time to time. Enjoy what's good in the movie. The kid who plays Oliver is great. Daka and Vince are funny when they shop for stuff the baby needs. I'm especially pleased by Melissa McCarthy's performance because it's not stupid. She creates more of a real person than she has in a long time. She's a little bit like Sookie on The Gilmore Girls (if you aren't familiar with The Gilmore Girls and shame on you if you aren't, Melissa McCarthy played Sookie throughout the series, and she was great).

By the time you get to Oliver's presentation, you might have a tear or four in your eyes. Don't stop watching when you get to the closing credits. They're amusing.

I watched St. Vincent on a DVD delivered to me by my faithful friends at Netflix. This movie is not for children unless you're okay with them viewing a movie with a drunk liar who teaches a kid how to bet on the horses and explains that Daka is a lady of the night. It might also make your kids scared that you'll get divorced--if you aren't already. Teens? They might like it. As I always say, see the movie before you decide to let a young person watch. Cherdo, Gonzo might enjoy this one, and he's old enough for it as far as I know.

St. Vincent earns The Janie Junebug Seal of Highest Approval.

Happy viewing!


Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug, who continues to edit as the mad woman she is

BOTB JOLENE WINNER

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

I'm shocked! Shocked, I tell you! In awe of the results! Where we're going, we don't need roads.

My October 1, 2015, Battle of the Bands countered Miley Cyrus against The White Stripes on Dolly Parton's song Jolene. I thought Miley would win easily, even though she's so annoying. I felt that way because I realize Jack White, although he is one of the loves of my life, is a little strange.

The score is much closer than I thought it would be. Miley wins, but not by much. It's

 Miley Cyrus                  13

The White Stripes    11

Because we all prefer to hear Dolly Parton on Jolene, I promised she would sing for you today. But first, we need a little background information.

Dolly Parton tells us: "One night, I was on stage, and there was this beautiful little girl — she was probably 8 years old at the time," Parton says. "And she had this beautiful red hair, this beautiful skin, these beautiful green eyes, and she was looking up at me, holding, you know, for an autograph. I said, 'Well, you're the prettiest little thing I ever saw. So what is your name?' And she said, 'Jolene.' And I said, 'Jolene. Jolene. Jolene. Jolene.' I said, 'That is pretty. That sounds like a song. I'm going to write a song about that.'" Parton says that she got the story for her song from another redhead in her life at the time — a bank teller who was giving Parton's new husband a little more interest than he had coming. (SOURCE)







Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

BOTB: REMEMBER TO VOTE

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

You have until midnight EST today, Tuesday, October 6th, to vote on my Oct. 1, 2015, Battle of the Bands. The song is Jolene. Vote in your comment for Miley Cyrus or The White Stripes.

HERE is the original post.

As a special, added bonus attraction, I hereby provide two more videos by Miley and the Stripes.

A number of you mentioned you liked the way Miley sang in The Backyard Sessions. Well, eat it up.



Miley Cyrus truly has a good voice and needs to cut out the weird crap.

Jack White, on the other hand, will not cut out the weird crap and shouldn't try to do so because it's part of who he is. Here's one of my favorite White Stripes songs:




I feel quite moved by this sweet video.


Remember, you are not voting on these two songs. You're voting on Miley Cyrus v. The White Stripes for their rendition of Dolly Parton's Jolene.

I'll tell you the results tomorrow.


Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

IT'S BEEN A LONG DAY

Hi, Gang!

I haven't gotten around to reading your Question of the Month posts--but I hope to do so today--and I need to edit.

You see, yesterday was a long day.

Penelope would not go outside because of the men STILL working on the house next door. She and Franklin freak out when people work over there and make noise with power tools and radios. They even shout at each other.

It's too much for sensitive dogs.

For the first time, Penelope had a potty accident in the house. I needed to wash two pairs of my slippers, multiple cleaning cloths, and many towels. It wasn't pretty, but one accident in two or so weeks is quite good for a little girl who never lived inside before. Penelope didn't need my forgiveness because I wasn't angry. I sympathized. I don't like to go outside with boisterous men hanging around.

The dishwasher repairman arrived yesterday afternoon and left without repairing the dishwasher because of a misunderstanding over payment for his services (I have an extended warranty that covers certain problems, including the pump, which was the broken part). I called Lowe's and let loose my inner child; i.e., I wailed and cried because the dishwasher was broken (again), and the guy insisted I had to pay $123 for five minutes of labor, though the part was covered.

Wrong, buddy boy! Labor was covered, too. I reached the repairman, and he returned. I don't expect the repair to last. The pump is made of cheap plastic.

He also said that the dishwasher had been installed incorrectly. The drain hose wasn't where it belonged, so wash water drained from the dishwasher and then poured back in on the dishes when the cycle ended. Now I know why it was extra wet in the dishwasher. I've also had upset tummy problems for quite some time.

Makes a person wonder, don'tcha know?

Sing us out, please, Broadway babies, because when a Broadway baby says goodnight, it's early in the morning. Let's try again because after it's been a long day, we still know we're part of the brotherhood of man . . . and the even better sisterhood of women.


Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

OCTOBER QUESTION OF THE MONTH

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Today I participate in a blog hop hosted by Michael D'Agostino of A Life Examined. Please visit Michael's blog to sign up. Now let's go to the hop!

Michael's question for October is the following: Who would play you in a movie of your life?

I think I've answered this question a couple of other times when I've received blog awards, thank you, yes, thank you very much, I feel honored by your adoration.

I remember one time I chose Christina Hendricks who played Joan on Mad Men:

The problem is that Christina expands as I shrink.

Another time, or two, or three, I chose Lauren Graham:

The problem is that Lauren Graham played Lorelai Gilmore, and in real life I am Lorelai Gilmore. I shouldn't have the actress who played me in a series also play me in a movie. Someone else deserves a chance to be me.

I talked it over with Willy Dunne Wooters, and we came up with the perfect choice: Elisabeth Moss, who played Peggy on Mad Men. I also thought she was great in my funniest of all time movie, Get Him To The Greek. And she's done other things, but I think it's the way she played Peggy that made her exactly right to play me.

Peggy started out as a vulnerable, naive girl, who ended up as a worldly woman. Look at the way she struts into her new office with all her stuff, cigarette hanging out of her mouth. Look out world, it's Peggy/Elisabeth! 

I, too, was vulnerable and naive and ended up--well, I don't know what. 

I don't smoke, that's for sure. But I've bossed some bosses around. Then I lost my Self, and I had to find me again. I've been working on that, and I have to admit it's getting better. It couldn't get much worse.



The great thing is that when Elisabeth is done playing me, we can skate away and go on to new and better things!






Thanks for the great question, Michael of A Life Examined.


Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug


P.S. I remembered something. When the final season of Mad Men rolled around, all sorts of TV critics and pundits wrote, It turns out that the show was about Peggy all along. 

I knew it was about Peggy from the very first episode. So there, pundits! Bite my little pink butt!

FRANKLIN FRIDAY: MOM WENT TO GEORGIA AND YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT SHE GOT US

Hi! Hi, Every Buddy! Hi Hi Hi Hi Hi hihihihiihhihiihihihihihhiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii! I'm so excited I can't stop hi-ing.

It's me, it's me, it's me, Franklin the Bordernese, whose mom always needs to peepee.

Mom went to a far away place not too long ago. It's called Georgia. She was gone for about a year. She claims it was only part of a day.

Mom went to a place called Claxton. I Googled it after she left. I figured she went to get a world famous Georgia fruitcake.

Nope!

Anyway, you won't believe what she brought home with her. It's sooooo much better than a fruitcake.

You know I been missing my buddy Harper since he went to heaven. Harper can't ever be replaced, but we can have new family members.

MOM BROUGHT HOME A SISTER FOR ME!

Mom saw this picture

online at a place for rescued dogs. Mom didn't tell me what might happen in case it didn't work out. She didn't want me to be disappointed.

She thought this doggy looked perfect to be my sister. She named my sister Penla-la-peee. Oh. Mom says her name is spelled like this: Penelope. She already knows that's her name.

I remember when I came here to live. I found out I was moving into a castle with a Queen. A big man with pictures painted all over his skin carried me to the backyard. I thought he was the servant, and he kinda is, but he's really my human brother.

When Penelope got here, she was scared. She didn't wanna get out of the car. She finally got out and ran into the backyard. She was safe because we have a good fence. But she wouldn't come inside. She wouldn't let Mom get close to her. She didn't know she was moving into a castle and that our mom is the Queen.

Mom had to call my human brother for help. It was raining hard, and it was getting dark. Painted Brother was patient with Penelope. He followed her around the yard and talked to her and showed her a dog biscuit.

Penelope went under Mom's car in the garage. At least she was out of the rain, but she couldn't stay there all night. My big brother is the bravest, strongest big brother in the whole world. He's better than a fruitcake from Georgia, too. He got down on the floor of the garage and slid under the car. He helped Penelope get out from under the car. Then he carried her into the house.

He and Mom dried her with towels and made her warm and cozy. Brother cuddled her for a long time.

That's when I met her. I did everything I could to help, and I'm still helping her learn how to live in the castle. Mom says one really good thing about Penelope is that when she needs to go potty she always goes outside. She never goes in the house. I typed this part small because it's about personal stuff.

Penelope learns every single day. I showed her how to sit just perfict like the dog of a Queen should.

See! See! See!
This is my perfict royal dog sit.
I will teach this to Penelope.

I've written a lot now, so I will try to tell you more about Penelope next week.

Mom hasn't gotten many good pitchers of Penelope yet because she wiggles a lot. She doesn't know the perfict royal dog sit, but I just know she can learn it. I'll try to find at least one good pitcher of Penelope at our castle.

Here's my sister.
That big furry thing is my tail and one white paw.
Penelope isn't as furry as I am. She's soft and sleek.
She likes to kiss me.
She kisses Mom, too.
Sometimes we both kiss Mom at the same time.
It makes Mom happy.

I'm tired now. I been working so hard to take care of Penelope.

Okay I love you bye-bye.


Franklin the Bordernese

Mom wants to ask you something. Here she is:

Without Googling it, do you know the name Penelope from Homeric poetry? Which character is she?

OCTOBER 1 BATTLE OF THE BANDS: MILEY V. WHITE STRIPES

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

It's time for the October 1, 2015, Battle of the Bands.

Mr. Stephen T. McCarthy provides us with this information about the bloghop:

The whole thing is really quite simple: You select two different versions of the same song (versions  you feel might give each other some competition in the voting) and you post them on the 1st and the 15th of each month. On the 7th and 21st of each month, you add your own personal vote to the mix, total up all the votes and announce the winner on your blog.

Beyond that, just try to have fun with it and let your readers/voters have fun with it.

All righty, then. Let's have fun!

My song is one I love, but I won't use the version by the woman who wrote and first sang it. She would blow everyone else away.

Her name is Dolly Parton, and the song is Jolene. It was released in October, 1973. Wikipedia states that Parton reports Jolene has been covered more times than any other song she's written. Jolene  is ranked #217 on Rolling Stones' Five Hundred Greatest songs of all time.

Our first contender in the battle is Miley Cyrus, who is Parton's godchild. I don't know a lot about Cyrus other than her father had an achy breaky heart, and she seems to have trouble dressing herself completely. However, in this version, I'm impressed by the strength of her voice.



Cyrus seems to me somewhat similar to her Aunt Dolly, except poor Miley can't afford clothes that's aren't ripped to shreds and full of holes.

And now for something completely different: Our second contender is The White Stripes, of whom I'm quite fond. Jack White possesses a prodigious talent, and I don't care if some people think he looks as if he's dead. According to Wikipedia, The White Stripes' version of Jolene was voted one of the greatest live covers by readers of Rolling Stone magazine. It's much more raw than Cyrus's interpretation, and considered a bit Goth. 






Please vote in the comments section for Miley Cyrus or The White Stripes.

I'll return on October 7th to reveal the winner. I realize we're supposed to choose two versions of a song that will be in close competition with one another. I seem to have a hard time doing that. I like to use a fairly conventional version of a song and pit it against a more unusual rendition. I'm curious about how you choose to vote. Why do you choose a particular song?


Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

Franklin wants to make an announcement tomorrow, but it might have to wait. The dishwasher is broken again, and I find myself struggling to meet my obligations. Please don't blame Franklin if he doesn't publish a post tomorrow. I tend to Bogart the laptop.