Last week a small town near here laid to rest John Sigsbee. More than 2, 000 people filed past the casket of this popular young man, just 21.
Sigsbee joined the army just after high school and was sent to Iraq. He was sent back, though, when an explosion burned him over most of his body, to heal.
And heal he did. Then he went back to Iraq, where he was killed Jan. 16 during a gun battle, along with a few of his fellow soldiers, trying to liberate the Iraqi village of Bichigan. [That liberation was completed later in the week.]
Brigadier General Todd Semonite spoke at the funeral. He presented Sigsbee’s parents two medals awarded posthumously—Sigsbee’s second Purple Hear, and the Bronze Star for heroism in battle. Sigsbee was buried in the Saratoga National Cemetery in Schuylerville.
If only that were the whole story.
Sigsbee’s death also attracted the attention of the Westboro Baptist Church in Topeka, Kansas, who announced they would send members to the funeral to protest what they see as America’s permissive attitude toward gays, claiming God is killing our troops to punish us. This group carries signs and shouts slogans at military funerals such as “Thank God for dead soldiers.”
Thankfully they didn’t show—a group of 60 Patriot Guard Riders did instead, with plans to (after the family had safely entered the funeral) form a blockade between the Westboro protesters and the mourners, and if needed, shouting “God bless our troops!” and singing the national anthem.
“We got a lot of media…so our message got out,” explains a spokesperson for the Topeka group. Instead, they protested another military funeral at Camp LeJuene in North Carolina. Well, bullies do typically stand down when challenged.
Local clergy denounced the group, saying, “They’re not Christian,” and that they weren’t affiliated with local Baptist churches or the Baptist Conference.
But here’s my question.
I hear incessantly, year after year, “Christians” crying, “They’re stealing our Christmas!” just because someone wishes people “Happy Holidays,” or “This will destroy marriage!” when any concession to same-sex unions might appear.
Where were these “Christians” when this Kansas group undermined their faith? Local church groups should have been at the funeral too, ready to stand for something.
Thank God we at least have patriots.
Writer
Showing posts with label Christmas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Christmas. Show all posts
Saturday, February 2, 2008
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
A Chance Meeting with the Grinch
A large, green cartoon character is certainly not the norm outside the Department of Labor, so I couldn’t help but pull in for a chat.
But how to start? “Hi, I’m a stranger” doesn’t work, but then neither does the blatantly obvious and potentially embarrassing “So, what are you doing here?”
I did my best. “What am I supposed to do?” the Grinch asked.
OK, I thought his role was clearly defined, so as tactfully as possible, I pressed for details.
“I’m supposed to steal Christmas!” he exclaimed. That was my understanding too. “But how am I to do that when it’s already been stolen!” I glanced at my laptop, casually clicking the New York Times link for any breaking news. None. Again, I pressed for details.
“I just got there too late.” complained the Grinch. This is why I hate ambiguous pronouns.
“Got where?” I asked.
“To Christmas, to steal it! It was already gone!”
I stared blankly.
“How am I going to pay the rent with no job?!”
I still stared blankly.
“You’d think stealing Christmas would be a niche market,” he added, calming down a bit.
“You have competition?” I offered (blithely, I realize in retrospect).
“Competition?” He snorted loudly. “It was gone before I got there! I’m out of business!”
I waited until the clerk finished all his paperwork, then invited him for coffee. We went across the street, and after a warm blueberry muffin and some hazelnut coffee (assuring him I was buying), he related the whole story.
“It’s the Christians!” He looked glumly into the dregs of his coffee.
“They’re fighting you?” I prompted.
“NO!” He looked angry. “They’re beating me to it!”
I signaled the waitress to replenish our coffee, sat back and just let him talk.
“Talk about ‘Bah Humbug!’” he complained. “Scrooge was a prophet compared to these guys!”
I sipped a little coffee, and waited.
“Happy Holidays!” he exclaimed. “What the hell is wrong with that?”
“Um…nothing?” I ventured.
He had entered a rant. “A bunch of people decide that they’ll respect all beliefs and traditions. Sounds Christian, right? Nope! It’s ‘Merry Christmas’ or ‘Get Lost, Godless Pagan!’ That’s what Jesus was about anyway, right? Criticizing others? Shooting tax collectors out of trees? Advising Peter to draw his sword? Do these morons even OWN Bibles?”
I was back to staring blankly.
“And now movies? MOVIES! Do these ‘brain trusts’ understand fiction? FICTION! A movie portrays people’s psyches as visible animals, and this is someone anti-Christian? What happened to Psychology 101?”
I remembered reading something about that film, “The Golden Compass.”
“Maybe they were confused about the term ‘daimon.’” I offered. “After all, they DO believe in Guardian Angels—six of one, half a dozen of the other…”
He looked sad. “No,” he answered finally, looking sad. “They believe in self-righteousness, judgment, exclusion, hatred. They’re confused about the terms ‘love,’ ‘tolerance,’ ‘faith,’ ‘brotherhood.’” And after a long pause, he added, “After all—isn’t that way they killed the Prince of Peace?”
Writer
But how to start? “Hi, I’m a stranger” doesn’t work, but then neither does the blatantly obvious and potentially embarrassing “So, what are you doing here?”
I did my best. “What am I supposed to do?” the Grinch asked.
OK, I thought his role was clearly defined, so as tactfully as possible, I pressed for details.
“I’m supposed to steal Christmas!” he exclaimed. That was my understanding too. “But how am I to do that when it’s already been stolen!” I glanced at my laptop, casually clicking the New York Times link for any breaking news. None. Again, I pressed for details.
“I just got there too late.” complained the Grinch. This is why I hate ambiguous pronouns.
“Got where?” I asked.
“To Christmas, to steal it! It was already gone!”
I stared blankly.
“How am I going to pay the rent with no job?!”
I still stared blankly.
“You’d think stealing Christmas would be a niche market,” he added, calming down a bit.
“You have competition?” I offered (blithely, I realize in retrospect).
“Competition?” He snorted loudly. “It was gone before I got there! I’m out of business!”
I waited until the clerk finished all his paperwork, then invited him for coffee. We went across the street, and after a warm blueberry muffin and some hazelnut coffee (assuring him I was buying), he related the whole story.
“It’s the Christians!” He looked glumly into the dregs of his coffee.
“They’re fighting you?” I prompted.
“NO!” He looked angry. “They’re beating me to it!”
I signaled the waitress to replenish our coffee, sat back and just let him talk.
“Talk about ‘Bah Humbug!’” he complained. “Scrooge was a prophet compared to these guys!”
I sipped a little coffee, and waited.
“Happy Holidays!” he exclaimed. “What the hell is wrong with that?”
“Um…nothing?” I ventured.
He had entered a rant. “A bunch of people decide that they’ll respect all beliefs and traditions. Sounds Christian, right? Nope! It’s ‘Merry Christmas’ or ‘Get Lost, Godless Pagan!’ That’s what Jesus was about anyway, right? Criticizing others? Shooting tax collectors out of trees? Advising Peter to draw his sword? Do these morons even OWN Bibles?”
I was back to staring blankly.
“And now movies? MOVIES! Do these ‘brain trusts’ understand fiction? FICTION! A movie portrays people’s psyches as visible animals, and this is someone anti-Christian? What happened to Psychology 101?”
I remembered reading something about that film, “The Golden Compass.”
“Maybe they were confused about the term ‘daimon.’” I offered. “After all, they DO believe in Guardian Angels—six of one, half a dozen of the other…”
He looked sad. “No,” he answered finally, looking sad. “They believe in self-righteousness, judgment, exclusion, hatred. They’re confused about the terms ‘love,’ ‘tolerance,’ ‘faith,’ ‘brotherhood.’” And after a long pause, he added, “After all—isn’t that way they killed the Prince of Peace?”
Writer
Monday, July 9, 2007
Eight Days a Week
For the past year, I’ve had the luxury of working four days a week. Well, much more accurately, just going into work four days a week—I work at home the other three days (and all the evenings). But still, it’s nice. Working five days in a row is OK, but two days off just isn’t enough to recuperate. Three day weekends work well, since the first day is devoted to much needed rest, the second on head clearing, and only the third on productive activity, before feeling refreshed and ready to go back to the office.
That’s why we should change to an eight day week.
Think about it, then contact your legislators. I propose an additional day, Labor Day, between Sunday and Monday each week, to institutionalize the five day work week, three day weekend, and each month with exactly four weeks—32 days, all the same. This would also simplify the calendar in several ways—each day would always be the same day of the month, for example--no more "What date? What day of the week is that?". Originally I thought the week (and month) should start on Monday, clearly separating the work week from the weekend, rather than splitting the weekend along calendar rows as we do now, but then I realized every month would have a Friday the Thirteenth. Let’s leave the week starting on Sunday, then—a bow to conservatives who won’t like having a Labor Day every week.
The months will need adjustments, since twelve months of 32 days each would give each year nineteen extra days (twenty on leap years)—but the weeks and months have supposedly been designed to follow the moon, and they don’t do that well at all anyway, so let’s combine June and July, creating a new month—Junly (pronounced June-LIE). This will ensure that children are still in school sufficient time to learn the curriculum (the same number of months), or at least as well as they do now—and cut the time they have to forget material over summer break, as well as save single working parents money on day care. Families wouild also have more regular weekend time together, and children more time to complete weekend homework.
Eleven months of 32 days each leaves thirteen days. I propose these be devoted to holidays—one national day off for Election Day, encouraging people to vote, and the other twelve for a national holiday at the end of the year (these “twelve days of Christmas” should mollify wealthy conservatives upset that Election Day will make it easier for the working poor to vote). And once every four years, the New Year will start with Leap Day!
Some critics will complain that this calendar sacrifices 40 business days over the course of a year, hurting the economy, but this is not the case. First, it will cut costs at financial institutions and for the Postal Service. Second, rested workers will be ready to return to work each week refreshed, with better attitudes, and hence be more productive. Additionally, those workers will have parties and barbeques far more often, go out to concerts and restaurants more, shop more, and so forth, all adding to gross domestic production, increasing tax revenue, and creating jobs. And finally, many, many people already work on weekends, whether required or at home, and this won’t change with a three day weekend. (The Beatles were prescient on this one: “Love you ev’ry day, girl, always on my mind.”) The manufacturing sector and similar industries will have much more flexibility in organizing dovetailed schedules for continuous operations.
Just imagine the commercial possibilities! Instead of a twelfth month, each calendar will have only a twelve day holiday season—leaving lots of extra space for holiday advertising. Department stores could have a Labor Day sale every week!
Perhaps best of all—you’ll only spend 1/8th of your life on Monday, instead of 1/7th!
"Eight days a week...I loaloalove you...."
It's almost enough to show I care...!
A new day for America and the world.
Writer
That’s why we should change to an eight day week.
Think about it, then contact your legislators. I propose an additional day, Labor Day, between Sunday and Monday each week, to institutionalize the five day work week, three day weekend, and each month with exactly four weeks—32 days, all the same. This would also simplify the calendar in several ways—each day would always be the same day of the month, for example--no more "What date? What day of the week is that?". Originally I thought the week (and month) should start on Monday, clearly separating the work week from the weekend, rather than splitting the weekend along calendar rows as we do now, but then I realized every month would have a Friday the Thirteenth. Let’s leave the week starting on Sunday, then—a bow to conservatives who won’t like having a Labor Day every week.
The months will need adjustments, since twelve months of 32 days each would give each year nineteen extra days (twenty on leap years)—but the weeks and months have supposedly been designed to follow the moon, and they don’t do that well at all anyway, so let’s combine June and July, creating a new month—Junly (pronounced June-LIE). This will ensure that children are still in school sufficient time to learn the curriculum (the same number of months), or at least as well as they do now—and cut the time they have to forget material over summer break, as well as save single working parents money on day care. Families wouild also have more regular weekend time together, and children more time to complete weekend homework.
Eleven months of 32 days each leaves thirteen days. I propose these be devoted to holidays—one national day off for Election Day, encouraging people to vote, and the other twelve for a national holiday at the end of the year (these “twelve days of Christmas” should mollify wealthy conservatives upset that Election Day will make it easier for the working poor to vote). And once every four years, the New Year will start with Leap Day!
Some critics will complain that this calendar sacrifices 40 business days over the course of a year, hurting the economy, but this is not the case. First, it will cut costs at financial institutions and for the Postal Service. Second, rested workers will be ready to return to work each week refreshed, with better attitudes, and hence be more productive. Additionally, those workers will have parties and barbeques far more often, go out to concerts and restaurants more, shop more, and so forth, all adding to gross domestic production, increasing tax revenue, and creating jobs. And finally, many, many people already work on weekends, whether required or at home, and this won’t change with a three day weekend. (The Beatles were prescient on this one: “Love you ev’ry day, girl, always on my mind.”) The manufacturing sector and similar industries will have much more flexibility in organizing dovetailed schedules for continuous operations.
Just imagine the commercial possibilities! Instead of a twelfth month, each calendar will have only a twelve day holiday season—leaving lots of extra space for holiday advertising. Department stores could have a Labor Day sale every week!
Perhaps best of all—you’ll only spend 1/8th of your life on Monday, instead of 1/7th!
"Eight days a week...I loaloalove you...."
It's almost enough to show I care...!
A new day for America and the world.
Writer
Thursday, June 7, 2007
Pears, People and Poultry
Of all the gifts given in “The Twelve Days of Christmas,” five involve nothing but poultry, another poultry in a pear tree, five others gifts of people, and one gift of five golden rings—not counting the multiples of these gifts along the trek from Christmas Day to the Feast of the Epiphany. Numerous web sites offer interpretations ranging from the interesting to the silly, usually promoting some version of this song as a secret Catholic code to promote that faith during 16th-17th century English persecution—and all with no evidence. Even if true, though, it’s an odd set of symbols.
Here’s a rough consensus:
Partridge in a pear tree—Jesus protecting the faithful, as a mother bird feigning injury to lure away predators. The pear tree harks back to the garden of Eden. That’s what the web sites claim, anyway.
Two turtle doves—the Old and New Testament. Also known as the mourning dove in the Western hemisphere. Interesting.
Three French hens—faith, hope, and love. Especially interesting, since I learned these in childhood as faith, hope and charity. Values change, it seems.
Four calling birds—the gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. Just repeating what I read.
Five golden rings--the first five books of the Old Testament (the Torah/the Pentateuch—the Books of Moses). Yes, I realize this repeats in part the turtle dove point.
Six geese a-laying—the six days of creation. Yes, I know creation had seven days, including a day of rest. If you haven’t yet thought these interpretations are quite contrived, perhaps you’re now beginning to see my point. On the other hand, this introduces the idea of reproduction—or at least breakfast.
Seven swans a-swimming—the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit, as described by Paul. I can at least see why we might compare these to swans. Why they have to be swimming, I can’t imagine.
Eight maids a-milking—the Beatitudes (Blessed are the…etc…). Here’s the interesting shift---we move from poultry to people. Why? Further, back to the geese, these women are producing. But what? No mention of what they’re milking—cows? goats? sheep? anything? Are they then wet nurses? They wouldn’t be “maids” then (ruling out immaculate conceptions, of course).
Nine ladies dancing—the nine fruits of the Holy Spirit. Again, quite contrived—we’re really jumping around here. But note the clear delineation—these are ladies, not maids. Does this mean they’re upper class (but still given as gifts, possessions)? Or married? If so, potential production again…
Ten lords a-leaping—the Ten Commandments. Ever go to two churches of different faiths? As a former church musician, I have, and guess what—THE Ten Commandments change depending on where you are, in wording, order, and substance. Moses most be going nuts. Apparently God changes his mind a lot. No wonder we got away from engraving those things in stone. And why “lords a-leaping"? Got me there.
Eleven pipers piping—the eleven faithful Apostles, not counting Judas Iscariot. I told you this was contrived.
Twelve drummers drumming—depends on what you read. Twelve tribes of Israel? Twelve Apostles (here they are again)? Some say the Twelve points of the Apostles’ Creed (those guys are ubiquitous!).
One web site reports no “accurate evidence” supports this—relying, I guess, on “inaccurate evidence” instead. Another site admits no evidence supports the idea that the song is a secret message of faith, but goes on to note “no substantive evidence disproves it either.” By that “logic,” as no substantive evidence disproves the idea that Martians planted the song as a secret manifesto to their eventual conquest of Earth, we shouldn’t rule out the possibility. Seems to me a secret song about Christianity probably wouldn’t start it with “On the first day of Christmas.” But that’s just me.
So what do we have here?
It’s a hell of gift giving binge—184 poultry, 140 people, 40 gold rings, and 12 fruit trees. If all of those are gifts in the sense of “keepers,” then we have a problem. How will we support them? Eleven and two-thirds people have to share one pear tree. Each person can have 1.314 birds—wait a minute. Isn’t that pi? Is this then some secret mathematical puzzle? Hmmm. Those people need clothing and housing in addition to food, but those gold rings amount to only 0.2857 rings per person, so I predict economic disaster.
Strangely ironic, isn’t it? All those lavish gifts to celebrate the birth of the king in a stable, whose “kingdom is not of this world.” Of course, at the Epiphany, the Wise Men—usually counted as three, although Christian scripture only notes three gifts—brought the precious gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh. The gold probably came in handy, and perhaps the frankincense and myrrh helped the stable smell better, but as myrrh should be kept away from children, they were really taking a chance. Herod’s influence?
Doesn’t add up. Let’s see what we do have.
The golden rings are clearly a turning point. Until then, we just have poultry milling about. The rings, however, usher in a flurry of activity. “Calling birds” may be ambiguous, but make no mistake about geese a-laying! Those geese are straining to produce those eggs. Those a-swimming swans are doing laps. Those a-milking maids are filling pail after pail, those lords and ladies a-kicking up their heels something fierce, and those pipers and drummers a-making a racket clearly audible from Scotland.
I propose this is simply a marriage, if a lavish one. After a bit of poultry, we award every finger of the hand a wedding ring—overkill, to be sure. But from that moment proceeds a flurry of activity, including dairy products, dancers, and musicians. Many people have argued that this marriage is Jesus with the faithful, but if so, the choice of symbols is just weird. Come on. It’s a children’s song. After all, the Brits also celebrated Twelfth Night by baking a cake with a hidden bean and a pea to determine the “King of the Bean” and his queen. Anyone want to take a whack at the religious message there?
But for those who need a religious allegory, here’s my suggestion—consider the Parable of the Ten Virgins in Matthew 25:1-13. Five wise virgins are ready for the arrival of the bridegroom—the manifestation of Jesus as God incarnate at the Epiphany? Fits in nicely with the five golden (wedding?) rings, and five of the gifts represent classes and genders of people. Excluding the partridge in the pear tree, presumably Jesus the bridegroom, that leaves five gifts of poultry—the five foolish virgins. As long as we’re contriving, let’s not forget that this is the darkest time of the year, a festival of light, and the parable is, after all, about saving oil for the lamps. The Maccabees might have something to say about that too.
I once heard a college student expound at length how Led Zeppelin’s “Stairway to Heaven” was that group’s reaching out and reaffirmation of their Christian faith. Had this student attempted a tad of research, he might have discovered lead singer Robert Plant’s explanation that it "was some cynical aside about a woman getting everything she wanted all the time without giving back any thought or consideration. The first line begins with that cynical sweep of the hand...and it softened up after that. I think it was the Moroccan dope!"
The silly goose.
Writer
Here’s a rough consensus:
Partridge in a pear tree—Jesus protecting the faithful, as a mother bird feigning injury to lure away predators. The pear tree harks back to the garden of Eden. That’s what the web sites claim, anyway.
Two turtle doves—the Old and New Testament. Also known as the mourning dove in the Western hemisphere. Interesting.
Three French hens—faith, hope, and love. Especially interesting, since I learned these in childhood as faith, hope and charity. Values change, it seems.
Four calling birds—the gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. Just repeating what I read.
Five golden rings--the first five books of the Old Testament (the Torah/the Pentateuch—the Books of Moses). Yes, I realize this repeats in part the turtle dove point.
Six geese a-laying—the six days of creation. Yes, I know creation had seven days, including a day of rest. If you haven’t yet thought these interpretations are quite contrived, perhaps you’re now beginning to see my point. On the other hand, this introduces the idea of reproduction—or at least breakfast.
Seven swans a-swimming—the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit, as described by Paul. I can at least see why we might compare these to swans. Why they have to be swimming, I can’t imagine.
Eight maids a-milking—the Beatitudes (Blessed are the…etc…). Here’s the interesting shift---we move from poultry to people. Why? Further, back to the geese, these women are producing. But what? No mention of what they’re milking—cows? goats? sheep? anything? Are they then wet nurses? They wouldn’t be “maids” then (ruling out immaculate conceptions, of course).
Nine ladies dancing—the nine fruits of the Holy Spirit. Again, quite contrived—we’re really jumping around here. But note the clear delineation—these are ladies, not maids. Does this mean they’re upper class (but still given as gifts, possessions)? Or married? If so, potential production again…
Ten lords a-leaping—the Ten Commandments. Ever go to two churches of different faiths? As a former church musician, I have, and guess what—THE Ten Commandments change depending on where you are, in wording, order, and substance. Moses most be going nuts. Apparently God changes his mind a lot. No wonder we got away from engraving those things in stone. And why “lords a-leaping"? Got me there.
Eleven pipers piping—the eleven faithful Apostles, not counting Judas Iscariot. I told you this was contrived.
Twelve drummers drumming—depends on what you read. Twelve tribes of Israel? Twelve Apostles (here they are again)? Some say the Twelve points of the Apostles’ Creed (those guys are ubiquitous!).
One web site reports no “accurate evidence” supports this—relying, I guess, on “inaccurate evidence” instead. Another site admits no evidence supports the idea that the song is a secret message of faith, but goes on to note “no substantive evidence disproves it either.” By that “logic,” as no substantive evidence disproves the idea that Martians planted the song as a secret manifesto to their eventual conquest of Earth, we shouldn’t rule out the possibility. Seems to me a secret song about Christianity probably wouldn’t start it with “On the first day of Christmas.” But that’s just me.
So what do we have here?
It’s a hell of gift giving binge—184 poultry, 140 people, 40 gold rings, and 12 fruit trees. If all of those are gifts in the sense of “keepers,” then we have a problem. How will we support them? Eleven and two-thirds people have to share one pear tree. Each person can have 1.314 birds—wait a minute. Isn’t that pi? Is this then some secret mathematical puzzle? Hmmm. Those people need clothing and housing in addition to food, but those gold rings amount to only 0.2857 rings per person, so I predict economic disaster.
Strangely ironic, isn’t it? All those lavish gifts to celebrate the birth of the king in a stable, whose “kingdom is not of this world.” Of course, at the Epiphany, the Wise Men—usually counted as three, although Christian scripture only notes three gifts—brought the precious gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh. The gold probably came in handy, and perhaps the frankincense and myrrh helped the stable smell better, but as myrrh should be kept away from children, they were really taking a chance. Herod’s influence?
Doesn’t add up. Let’s see what we do have.
The golden rings are clearly a turning point. Until then, we just have poultry milling about. The rings, however, usher in a flurry of activity. “Calling birds” may be ambiguous, but make no mistake about geese a-laying! Those geese are straining to produce those eggs. Those a-swimming swans are doing laps. Those a-milking maids are filling pail after pail, those lords and ladies a-kicking up their heels something fierce, and those pipers and drummers a-making a racket clearly audible from Scotland.
I propose this is simply a marriage, if a lavish one. After a bit of poultry, we award every finger of the hand a wedding ring—overkill, to be sure. But from that moment proceeds a flurry of activity, including dairy products, dancers, and musicians. Many people have argued that this marriage is Jesus with the faithful, but if so, the choice of symbols is just weird. Come on. It’s a children’s song. After all, the Brits also celebrated Twelfth Night by baking a cake with a hidden bean and a pea to determine the “King of the Bean” and his queen. Anyone want to take a whack at the religious message there?
But for those who need a religious allegory, here’s my suggestion—consider the Parable of the Ten Virgins in Matthew 25:1-13. Five wise virgins are ready for the arrival of the bridegroom—the manifestation of Jesus as God incarnate at the Epiphany? Fits in nicely with the five golden (wedding?) rings, and five of the gifts represent classes and genders of people. Excluding the partridge in the pear tree, presumably Jesus the bridegroom, that leaves five gifts of poultry—the five foolish virgins. As long as we’re contriving, let’s not forget that this is the darkest time of the year, a festival of light, and the parable is, after all, about saving oil for the lamps. The Maccabees might have something to say about that too.
I once heard a college student expound at length how Led Zeppelin’s “Stairway to Heaven” was that group’s reaching out and reaffirmation of their Christian faith. Had this student attempted a tad of research, he might have discovered lead singer Robert Plant’s explanation that it "was some cynical aside about a woman getting everything she wanted all the time without giving back any thought or consideration. The first line begins with that cynical sweep of the hand...and it softened up after that. I think it was the Moroccan dope!"
The silly goose.
Writer
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