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Yanking and banking

Picked up a merry bunch from the Red Hill restaurant. It sits on the ridge above Parliament House and has a fantastic view out over the sparkling city. She sat in the front, guided me and praised my music, while the three blokes sat in the back and wisecracked.
“Is that Glen Campbell?” she asked.
I cranked up “Wichita Lineman”. “Yes, it is. One of my favorites.”
A desolate song, and one that has given me a little satisfaction recently in decoding a line of the lyrics that had eluded me for decades.
And if it snows, that stretch down south won’t ever stand the strain.
I’d never been able to link snow with a stretch of wire. Not knowing much about snow, you see. I’d heard the word as “nose” or “knows”, and the line made no sense in my mind.
But I digress. There was a comment from the back seat. “Those Yanks are good at making their lives into songs: I am a Wichita Lineman, I’m a Wall Street Stockman...”
I liked that. A Wall Street stockman chasing a herd of bulls through the concrete canyons.
I fiddled around in my head for a bit, trying to think of a catchy, award-winning song that would go over big with the American audience in these days when the economy is pursued by bears.
Couldn’t come up with something Glen Campbell could sell a million copies, but the offer is now out there. A packet of Tim-Tams for the first reader to come up with a number-one charter.
Picked up a merry bunch from the Red Hill restaurant. It sits on the ridge above Parliament House and has a fantastic view out over the sparkling city. She sat in the front, guided me and praised my music, while the three blokes sat in the back and wisecracked.
“Is that Glen Campbell?” she asked.
I cranked up “Wichita Lineman”. “Yes, it is. One of my favorites.”
A desolate song, and one that has given me a little satisfaction recently in decoding a line of the lyrics that had eluded me for decades.
And if it snows, that stretch down south won’t ever stand the strain.
I’d never been able to link snow with a stretch of wire. Not knowing much about snow, you see. I’d heard the word as “nose” or “knows”, and the line made no sense in my mind.
But I digress. There was a comment from the back seat. “Those Yanks are good at making their lives into songs: I am a Wichita Lineman, I’m a Wall Street Stockman...”
I liked that. A Wall Street stockman chasing a herd of bulls through the concrete canyons.
I fiddled around in my head for a bit, trying to think of a catchy, award-winning song that would go over big with the American audience in these days when the economy is pursued by bears.
Couldn’t come up with something Glen Campbell could sell a million copies, but the offer is now out there. A packet of Tim-Tams for the first reader to come up with a number-one charter.
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Speaking of Glen Campbell, he's playing the casino on January 3rd. If you can come up with something, maybe I can slip it to him or his people. ;-)