Happiness is Little Tich's Big Boot Dance, Paris Exposition of 1900

 

Happiness is tripping the light fantastick

Euphrosyne Goddess of Joy Mirth and Merriment Corfu Greece

 

 Sport, that wrinkled Care derides,

And Laughter, holding both his sides,

Come, and trip it, as you go,

On the light fantastick toe.

 

 -- John Milton (1608-1674)

Happiness is seeing yourself revealed in others

 

Or . . . Why I Struggle To Write Blog Posts For 25 Forms Of Happiness 

 Robert Redford, Screen Idol Turned Director and Activist, Dies at 89

... “I was born with a hard eye,” he told The Hollywood Reporter in 2014. “The way I saw things, I would see what was wrong. I could see what could be better. I developed kind of a dark view of life, looking at my own country.” ...

Throughout his career, Mr. Redford pushed and questioned and then questioned and pushed. His tenaciousness served him well as early as 1969, when he was preparing to play the Sundance Kid. The president of 20th Century Fox, Richard D. Zanuck, told Mr. Redford to shave the bandit mustache he had grown for the role. He refused.

“It was authentic,” Mr. Redford told Mr. Callan, his biographer. “I got my way.”

Happiness is 1965's Hang on Sloopy by The McCoys with Rick Derringer

The true identity of the “Sloopy Girl” dancer was revealed in September 2021.

 

Happiness is Benny Bell's McCarthy and McGinnis

 

McCarthy is dead, McGinnis don't know it McGinnis is dead, McCarthy don't know it They both lay dead on the very same bed But neither one knows that the other is dead.

Before he died, this fellow McCarthy One Saturday night got drunk at a party He took a swing at Officer King The next day he carried his head in a sling.

McCarthy was always good to his wife He had to be so, or I pity his life Although she was only half his size She'd jump on a table and scratch out his eyes.

On Saint Patrick's Day he was there A shine on his shoes and oil on his hair He wore a green jacket and really looked swell With a genuine shamrock in his lapel.

One day he was taking his wife to a dance A dog took a chance and snapped at his pants McCarthy got angry and started to sneer Then lifted the mongrel and bit off its ear.

He drank like a fish, he ate like a savage His favourite dish was corned beef and cabbage He fought like a tiger, he hit like a mule And boy could he knock off a good game of pool.

McCarthy and Mister McGinnis next door Could never agree, they were always at war Said he to McGinnis, "The day when you die I'll buy everybody a strawberry pie."

Said Mister McGinnis to Mister McCarthy "You may be tough, and healthy and hearty But if you don't shut up and behave You'll soon be asleep in a seven foot grave."

One stormy night, they met in the hall To settle their argument once and for all Now one used a shovel and one used a rock And both were in heaven at seven o'clock.

So McCarthy is dead but McGinnis don't know it McGinnis is dead and McCarthy don't know it They both lay dead on the very same bed But neither one knows that the other is dead.

Delight each May morning

 The shepherd swains shall dance and sing,

For they delight each May morning.

If these delights thy mind may move,

Then live with me, and be my love.

-- William Shakespeare

Happiness is having a vigorous interior life

(Scarecrow)

I could wile away the hours

Conferrin' with the flowers

Consultin' with the rain

And my head I'd be scratchin'

While my thoughts were busy hatchin'

If I only had a brain

I'd unravel any riddle

For any individ'le

In trouble or in pain

(Dorothy)

With the thoughts you'd be thinkin'

You could be another Lincoln

If you only had a brain

(Scarecrow)

Oh, I would tell you why

The ocean's near the shore

I could think of things I never thunk before

And then I'd sit and think some more

I would not be just a nuffin'

My head all full of stuffin'

My heart all full of pain

I would dance and be merry

Life would be a ding-a-derry

If I only had a brain

Happiness is the 102 year old woman who says "Jesus did not change water into wine so that I could look at it"

Advice from a woman who survived covid-19, the 1918 flu - and cancer:

But when she's being introspective, she credits a strong immune system, avoidance of excessive worry and even her love of red wine. She was known to say, "Jesus did not change water into wine so that I could look at it."

Happiness is The Irish Balladeers singing about the wake for the fighter Steve O'Donnell

Here, in what is a very melodious and polished if truncated version dating from the 1960s.

Online discussions about the origin of this song "Steve O'Donnell's Wake" and about the lyrics display very little unanimity. Different performances reflect the lack of agreement, probably because most of us who love this song just want to get right to the beer, gin, whiskey, wine and cake of the chorus. No wonder no one can remember the original words. Not even the list of libations is agreed upon.

This page, which claims to reproduce the original lyrics dating to 1889, is unfortunately itself incomprehensible in places.

For example, it should say the "crepe" is hung upon the door, not the inscrutable "crane". Hanging black crepe was the common custom to signify a house in mourning in times gone by. And what could it possibly mean for a barber to come and shave "the sluggers from his throat"? No, "The barber came and shaved the Galway slugger's throat" is no doubt more to the original sense.

O'Donnell is presumably a successful Irish fighter from Galway, a famous boxer, who has died. This is why he is beloved by the high and the low whom he had entertained. Some of these no doubt owed their good fortune to O'Donnell, betting on him as they did, which is the real reason why some now felt sorry and bad. All bets are now off. As everyone came to see him fight in life, now men of all walks have come to pay their respects that he is dead, which only burnishes the lustre of his reputation. Accordingly it appears that in the chorus "biters", which makes absolutely no sense, has been corrupted from "writers", that is, sports writers, who were accustomed to regaling their newspaper readers with O'Donnell's exploits in the ring. They are mentioned first in attendance at the wake, followed by fellow fighters, then members of the coal mining community, the experts with dynamite, then men elected to high office and finally the aspirants thereto, Irishmen all. It's a fine picture. 

On the other hand, the version by Hum and Strum, a Jew and a Catholic, dating from 1947 and afterwards, evidently recoiled at the lyric slur that O'Donnell was a Jew and changed that to "a bum". That vaudeville duo also took other liberties with the lyrics, as others have ever since. But you can hardly blame them when the lyrics seem to have been so poorly remembered in the first place.

So sing along as you will and drink whatever you're drinking to the memory of poor Stevie boy, we hardly knew him.

STEVE O'DONNELL'S WAKE.

Copyright. 1889, by Chas. D. Blake & Co.

Words and Music by Frank C. Turner.

Steve O'Donnell was a gentleman, so everybody said.

He was liked by all his friends, both rich and poor.

So of course they all felt sorry when they heard that he was dead,

And they saw a piece of crane hung on his door;

Now undertaker Feeney had the job to lay him out.

He got a casket of the finest make;

And he dressed the corpse in broadcloth, and said: Boys I have no doubt

You will all remember Steve O'Donnell's wake.

Chorus.

There were biters, there were fighters, lots of dynamiters.

There was beer, and there was whiskey, wine and cake;

There were men in high positions, there were Irish politicians.

And they all got drunk at Steve O'Donnell's wake.

A barber came and shaved his Galway sluggers from his throat,

And cut his hair a la la pompadour;

A red necktie and buttonhole bouquet was in his coat,

And a hunch of shamrocks in his hand he bore.

There was thirteen candles at his head and twenty at his side.

And lots of flowers sent for friendship's sake;

Yerra, Steve, my b'ye, why did you die, the weeping widow cried.

Sure, we all felt bad at Steve O'Donnell's wake.-Chorus.

Now Mike McGovern said he thought O'Donnell was a Jew,

Of course, he only meant it for a joke;

But Patsey Mack got up his back and at McGovern flew,

And he hit him in the eye an awful poke.

Sure all hands began a-fighting then, for everyone was mad,

And blood enough was spilled to form a lake:

They knocked the corpse upon the floor and blew out all the lights,

There was murder down at Steve O'Donnell's wake.-Chorus.

The police came in and stopped the row and made them understand,

The corpse was picked up by his brother. Dan;

But someone stole the necktie that was 'round O'Donnells throat,

Tim O'Kelly said McGovern was the man.

Then McGovern's friends got crazy mad and swore they'd have his life,

O'Reilly saw he made a big mistake;

But he fought and yelled, and danced around until the cops came in

And arrested all at Steve O'Donnell's wake.-Chorus.

Happiness is a birthday card "blast from the past": OOGA OOGA OOGA SHAKA!

The ever popular opening lines from Blue Swede's version of "Hooked on a Feeling" from 1974 here, the year I graduated from high school. Am I really that old?

The card spells it "Shaka" instead of "Chaka", perhaps for copyright reasons, but the audio in the card has the latter from the original.

On the inside, it says the words translate from "witch doctor" to "Happy Birthday". And he does a little dance! So politically incorrect, so amusing.

Eat Lentils Today To Bring Good Luck For The New Year

So say the Italians, according to this story:

We all get another chance in the new year — clean slate, new resolutions. For a little extra push of luck there are culinary superstitions from cultures all over the world. ... Legumes of any kind bring good luck because they resemble coins and, therefore, wealth. ... Italians eat lentils and sausage to bring in the new year. The lentils play the same role as black-eyed peas and the sausages, sliced crosswise, resemble coins. The pork — specifically the fat — signifies abundance.

I was making Lentil Soup from The Silver Palate Cookbook, somewhat modified, when I learned of the superstition (great minds think alike):

8 cups homemade chicken stock

1.5 cups organic green lentils, washed

2 small bay leaves and 2 matching-sized pieces of Parmesan rind (I save these in the freezer)

6 oz. uncured bacon, diced

1 medium organic onion, diced

3 organic carrots, peeled and diced

3 large cloves homegrown garlic, diced

1 tsp. dried thyme leaves

1/4 tsp. celery seed

1/4 tsp. Folgate lavender buds

1. Wash the lentils, drain, and boil gently for 45 minutes in the chicken stock in a covered large soup pot along with the bay leaves and Parmesan rinds, which add a unique creaminess.

2. Meanwhile prepare the bacon and saute in a dutch oven, stirring frequently until crisp over less than medium heat. Reserve for serving.

3. Dice the vegetables as the bacon finishes and sweat them for 20 minutes covered in the bacon fat of the dutch oven over less than medium heat. I add the carrots first, then the onions carefully on top and sweat together for 10 minutes, then I stir and sweat five minutes more, and then I add the garlic on top without stirring for the last five minutes.

4. Add the vegetables to the stock and lentils, which by now should be done. Also add the seasonings, which I grind ahead of time in my coffee grinder very briefly. Simmer for 15 minutes. Remove the bay leaves and the Parmesan rinds, if you can find them.

5. Serve with reserved bacon dice, and season with salt and pepper to taste with some buttered, toasted bread or an English Muffin.

Good luck!

h/t Monica