Come Monday...My Uncle Alice

Come Monday…” is a weekly series that will involve a review of, or commentary about,  websites, movies, documentaries, television shows, sports, music, and whatever else may tickle my fancy at the time.  Be assured that these reviews will be generally positive, as in accordance to the Jimmy Buffett song “Come Monday.”  This is subject to change, however.  In fact, I would be most derelict in my duties to neglect going on a rant every once in a while.  For rants promote change, and change can be good—right?  Therefore, since good is generally considered as being a positive force in 99.3% of the parallel universes that I am aware of, even a rant could be considered as being something positive, and a genuine hissy-fit would be even better (so I’m told).

Alas, I actually wanted to publish this piece on The Trib, but it was pointed out to me that it would not be worth antagonizing the Puritans sulking in the shadows over there.  So, since they avoid coming over here as much as most of you-all avoid going over there (I swear that there has not been a new case of the plague reported on either site in years) you have the distinct honor of being the first to hear that I really do love my Uncle Alice.

In all fairness to the Puritans, there is a danger to having too much fun with the dark side [Jude 1:8-10], but since it should be quite obvious that there is very little truly serious about Uncle Alice’s act, I am fairly sure that he will not be inspiring anyone to start worshipping the devil anytime soon, nor has he ever done so before.  Besides, our Heavenly Father is well able to prove that the devil and his demons do indeed exist, but of what value is His counsel to those who do not want to believe it?

Now, just for the sake of clarity, do not confuse Uncle Alice with Uncle Albert.  The following should help with that, and if I have already contributed to some head-spinning, please accept that I am so sorry.

Uncle Albert

Paul McCartney

We're so sorry

Uncle Albert

We're so sorry if we caused you any pain

We're so sorry

Uncle Albert

But there's no one left at home

And I believe I'm gonna rain

We're so sorry

But we haven't heard a thing all day

We're so sorry

Uncle Albert

But if anything should happen

We'll be sure to give a ring

We're so sorry

Uncle Albert

But we haven't done a bloody thing all day

We're so sorry

Uncle Albert

But the kettle's on the boil

And we're so easily called away

Hands across the water

Water

Heads across the sky

Hands across the water

Water

Heads across the sky

Admiral Halsey notified me

He had to have a berth

Or he couldn't get to sea

I had another look

And I had a cup of tea

And a butter pie

Butter pie

Couldn't put it in something else

So I poured it in the pie

All right

Hands across the water

Water

Heads across the sky

Hands across the water

Water

Heads across the sky

Live a little

Be a gypsy

Get around

Get around

Get your feet up off the ground

Live a little

Get around

Live a little

Be a gypsy

Get around

Get around

Get your feet up off the ground

Live a little

Get around

Hands across the water

Water

Heads across the sky

Hands across the water

Water

Heads across the sky

If you still have your doubts about just how sorry I am, you can go ask another Alice.  That is, if you are willing to chase her down the rabbit hole.

White Rabbit

Jefferson Airplane

One pill makes you larger

And one pill makes you small

And the ones that mother gives you

Don't do anything at all

Go ask Alice

When she's ten feet tall

And if you go chasing rabbits

And you know you're going to fall

Tell 'em a hookah-smoking caterpillar

Has given you the call

Call Alice

When she was just small

When the men on the chessboard

Get up and tell you where to go

And you've just had some kind of mushroom

And your mind is moving low

Go ask Alice

I think she'll know

When logic

And proportion

Have fallen sloppy dead

And the White Knight is talking backwards

And the Red Queen's off with her head

Remember

What the dormouse said

Feed your head

Feed your head

To be quite honest about it, I am not sure if the entrance to Alice’s rabbit hole is anywhere near her restaurant, but it might not hurt to take a look.  On the other hand, the simple fact of me being too lazy to edit and include the lyrics to Arlo Guthrie’s song about it should be all of the proof anyone should ever need to determine just how sorry I truly am.  Nonetheless, I would highly recommend you taking the time to give the song a listen.

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