Back in 1934, I wasn’t born yet. Don’t look at me in that tone of voice. I wasn’t born until 1950.
But I am familiar with a song that was written back in 1934 — Cole Porter wrote a song called “Don’t Fence Me In” (the recording by Bing Crosby and The Andrews Sisters topped the Billboard charts in 1944-45).
I thought of this song the other morning when I was sitting on my front porch (not in a rocking chair just yet – thank you very much!) drinking coffee. It’s that stream-of-consciousness thing that I do a lot – my mind is going in one direction, and that leads to another thought in a different direction, and then another turn – and, usually, somewhere in there, it leads to a song interlude.
The thing is – I bought a house last July – yes, at my age, I bought a house. Well, there was that whole first time homebuyer rebate thingy – which I just could not ignore.
Anyway – my house sits on a corner – with a school playground in back and a park in front and a neighbor on only one side. So. . . when I’m working in my office, I hear the delightful far-off sounds of children playing:
(Okay – there’s a fence – but that’s a good thing around a playground – right?)
And when I’m sitting on my front porch (again – no rocking chair), I see this:
In a neighborhood full of lots of houses and lots of cars, I live on a little piece of heaven on earth. And I don’t have to pay for it, or water it, or mow it. Hurray!
Now I just pray that the city doesn’t decide to let some developer destroy the park and build there.
I know – if I see that happening, I’ll just keep playing this song – really loud – and make them feel bad so they’ll go away. Yeah – that’s the ticket.
“Oh, give me land, lots of land under starry skies above. . . Don’t fence me in. . . Let me ride through the wide open country that I love. . . Don’t fence me in. . .”
Rocking. . . Rocking. . . Rocking. . . Rocking. . . Rocking. . .