Tuesday, November 13, 2007

She's Roses, She's Snowflakes, She's Rosemary's Baby

Bob, I can tell
That my ticker's ticked as far as it can tock.
Bob, listen well:
Good advice is all I leave you, but it's better than a thousand shares of stock.
- Ira Levin, Drat! the Cat!

Ira Levin has died. He was a genuinely multi-talented guy who did everything well: thrillers (A Kiss Before Dying), comedies (his stage adaptation of No Time For Sergeants, which helped make Andy Griffith a star), at least two classic men-are-pigs horror stories, and even a musical, Drat! the Cat!

My post about Drat! was one of my earliest posts on this blog, and I'll post two lyrics of his from that show (including one I posted before), just because I like them.

Holmes and Watson


Have you read the latest number of Harper's Magazine?
There's a story there by Conan Doyle.
It's about a new detective, he's marvelously keen,
And he has a chap, a doctor who's his foil.
Together they're second to none,
But together means two, sir, not one.


Sherlock Holmes has Doctor Watson,
Watson trots in back of Holmes.
All the plots that Holmes finds knots in,
Watson jots in tomes.
'Cause it takes one to do
The heavy brainwork,
One to do
The more mundane work,
One to say "it's element'ry,"
One to say "amazing!"
You be Holmes and I'll be Watson,
In high spots, in catacombs.
Any place the Cat gavottes in,
Watson trots with Holmes.
It's just as right as rain,
We fit the format,
You the brain
And I the doormat.
You will search and I'll be sentry,
We'll be just amazing!
Lucky Holmes to have a Watson,
Thanks a lot, sincerely, Holmes.
Poor old Cat will soon feel small as hottentots n'
When he runs into Sherlock Holmes.

She's Roses

She's roses, she's snowflakes, she's barrels of apples,
And ice cream and velvet and bells when they ring.
She's birthdays and New Year's, the night before Christmas,
The last day of school and the first day of spring.
Other girls, other girls borrow and buy
Cosmetics and feathers and fur.
Other girls, other girls hopelessly try
To change from themselves into her.
She's bluebirds and baseball and hitting a long one,
And laughing and dreaming and Central Park Lake.
She's marbles (the clear ones) and milk when you're thirsty,
She's five kinds of candy and six kinds of cake.
Other girls, other girls, ain't it a shame,
They're seaweed and splinters and glue.
Other girls, other girls, no one's to blame,
Pray God the poor creatures pull through.
She's all of the stars and the moon when it's rising,
And music and peace and the automobile.
And how can I live till the next time I see her?
She touched me right here, and she's really real.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

He was also the author of the seldom seen TV movie starring Bing Crosby -- "Dr Cook's Garden." As I remember, an excellent dramatic performance by Der Bingle as a kindly, small town doctor who selects who should die.