SPITE — Music Themes

Lisa says the theme for next week is TIME.

When I found that Johnny had chosen SPITE for the Music Theme for this week, my first thought was “Ouch!! That one pinches!!” And it does pinch me. I grew up with SPITE turning the very air to ground glass, and SPITE is hiding in the words I have to fight myself to not say. Oh they slip out sometimes. SPITEFUL words can be funny.  But it is SPITE, all the same, funny or no. It really is too easy to react to grievances  of one form or another with SPITE. One of the meanest most SPITEFUL things I do, when I have been hurt, is to use vocabulary which includes terms and words  for my reproach that I know are unfamiliar to the person with whom I am disappointed. This allows me to sooth my self-rightous, elitist superior wounded self. But it is a false victory.  It is merely lowly miserable SPITE.  If vocabulary spiced with obscure special interest is the only power I feel myself to have, I use  my words as an instructive lash. I am afforded a dark spiteful joy in my broken hearted grief.
Bear …01.04.2014
I know more
Words than you.
I can make a joke
And laugh and laugh
Especially if
My heart you broke.
I know more
Words than you.
But is it right
To win every debate
And win every fight,
Just because
I did the research and
I know I am right?
I know more
Words than you.

Does it show love
When I observe from above
I’m all alone
Here and blue,
But by golly
I command more
Words than you.
I can redundantly
Screech all complaints
With terms well
Beyond your
Vocabulary’s reach.
I can out argue you
But also,
There is no one
To talk with
And no one
To joke with
To share a good pun
Just for the fun.
I know plenty more
Obscure words
Than you.
And even if
I pronounce them all wrong,
You will never know.
You refuse to
Pay attention
To what I say
To stretch and reach and grow.
I have this small
Minor human flaw
But even if I do not speak them,
Nanny nanny boo boo
I know more
Words than you do.
Sadly, my secret elitist
Attitude is not endearing.
I correctly use language
As a harsh instructive lash.
Ain’t I just a spiteful bitch?
Those are some words even you might know.
When the adrenaline and cortisol flow
All the correct and reasonable,
Non-accusatory and fair
Sesquipedalian terms seem to glow.
I am determined I
Shall raise your erudition proficiency
To my own distinctive level.
As if you cared, at all,
That I know more,
Many more, confusing
Words than you.

One fall semester I had to take my five year old son with me to class. It was a two hour class twice a week. so I had to keep my little boy, up late, entertained, fed, and quiet while also engaging in class debate and asking questions that got the professor who was also a prosecutor, off into reminiscing about when he was a uniformed deputy (just for the fun of it).
Well, Willie ( his first name was Willie) had a bunch of his lawyer prosecutor buddies, including a couple of Feds to help him grade the finals. Yes I had my 5 year old with me, during the test, and when we got our papers back. Willie then read out all of the questions and quoted some of the more interesting answers, and some of his grading committee’s debates. In addition to the regular questions, he had included two bonus questions, each worth an additional 10%. On my paper one question was marked as wrong. When the discussion reached that point, I objected, on the grounds that I was right. Willie told me/the class that my answer was the one argued about the longest until they just took a majority vote. I wanted the impossible. I wanted 120% right. So I argued. And I was the only student to convince the state prosecutor to change a grade. The person who argued that it was wrong was a federal prosecutor. Fortunately Willie didn’t let his helpers know who the tests belonged to. When Willie told the class the Fed’s nickname, I knew exactly who he was. This particular federal prosecutor, and I, had hopped trains across Canada and hitchhiked the old Alaskan Highway through the Yukon to Alaska and back through Montana and all the way back to Florida, we camped out all the way. This particular Federal Prosecutor kept beer in his canteen instead of water. Aii Yii.
Willie said if I could counter all of ___’s argument points, I could have the question. I did. I earned 125% A++++ for the semester. I was the only student to go and listen to Willie argue a murder trial. So I got another 5% for the semester.  Never before or after did I get 125% average for a class. This is a true story illustrating my determination when I argue.
This is also why I have to be very careful, and bite my spiteful tongue.


People are able to take the worst situations and create beautiful works of art and awesome music and enjoy camaraderie in SPITE of hardship.
3min. 29sec.

<a href="/channel/UC80rOmBBIhtbXYEKMnz9vzg" class=" yt-uix-sessionlink     spf-link  g-hovercard" data-ytid="UC80rOmBBIhtbXYEKMnz9vzg" data-name="" data-sessionlink="ei=DieAVMO9G4KtqQXkxYD4DQ">Alf</a>   Alf  uploaded the video and the following information and Lyrics.

Nehemiah Curtis “Skip” James (June 9,[1] 1902 — October 3, 1969[2]) was an American delta blues singer, guitarist, pianist and songwriter. Born in Bentonia, Mississippi, he first learned to play guitar from another bluesman from the area, Henry Stuckey. His guitar playing is noted for its dark, minor sound, played in an open D-minor tuning with an intricate fingerpicking technique. James first recorded for Paramount Records in 1931, but these recordings sold poorly due to the Great Depression, and he drifted into obscurity. After a long absence from the public eye, James was “rediscovered” in 1964 by three blues enthusiasts, helping further the blues and folk music revival of the 1950s and early 60s. During this period, James appeared at several folk and blues festivals and gave live concerts around the county, also recording several albums for various record labels. He died in 1969 in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. His songs have influenced several generations of musicians, being adapted by Kansas Joe McCoy, Robert Johnson, Cream, Deep Purple, Chris Thomas King, Alvin Youngblood Hart, Beck, Big Sugar, and Rory Block.


Hard time’s is here
An ev’rywhere you go
Times are harder
Than th’ever been befo’

Um, hm-hm
Um, hm-hm
Um, hm-hm-hm

You know that people
They are driftin’ from do’ to do’
But they can’t find no heaven
I don’t care where they go

Um, hm-hm
Um, hm-hm-hm

People, if I ever can get up
Off a-this old hard killin’ flo’
Lord, I’ll never get down
This low no mo’

Um, hm-hm-hm
Hm, um-hm
Hm, hm-hm
Hm, hm-hm-hm

Well, you hear me singin’
This old lonesome song
People, you know these hard times
Can’t last us so long

Hm, hm-hm
Hmm, hmm
Hm, hm-hm
Hm, hm-hm, oh Lord

You know, you’ll say you had money
You better be sho’
But these hard times gon’ kill you
Just drive a lonely soul

Um, hm-hm
Umm, hmm
Umm, hm-hm
Hm, hm-hm-hm

Hmm, hm-hm-hm
Johnny     Johnny
Lisa    Lisa