Someone in this house — someone other than me, which seriously limits the suspects here — downloaded “Hoop-Dee-Doo” by Perry Como onto my iTunes. Wha?? I mean, there I was, plugged into the computer, listening to some iTunes stuff, all very enjoyable, happily waiting in the silence between songs for the next song I like, and then ….. this:
Hoop-Dee-Doo, Hoop-Dee-Doo
I hear a polka and my troubles are through
Hoop-Dee-Dee, Hoop-Dee-Dee
This kind of music is like heaven to me
Hoop-Dee-Doo, Hoop-Dee-Doo
Has got me higher than a kite
Hand me down my soup and fish, I am gonna get my wish(???)
Hoop-Dee-Doin’ it tonight
When there’s a trombone playin’ I get a thrill, I always will
When there’s a concertina stretched about a mile
I always smile ’cause that’s my style
When there’s a fiddle in the middle
Oh it really is a riddle how he plays a tune so sweet
Plays a tune so sweet that I could die
Lead me to the floor and hear me yell for more
’cause I’m a Hoop-Dee-Doin’ kind of guy
(Dad??)
Oh, Hoop-Dee-Doo, Hoop-Dee-Doo
It’s got us higher than a kite
We’re in clover, we’re in bloom, when we’re dancin’ give us room
Hoop-De-Doin’ it with all of our might
Rain may fall and snow may come, nothin’s gonna stop us from
Hoop-Dee-Doin’ it
Hoop-Dee-Doin’ it
Hoop-Dee-Doin’ it tonight
And on and on …. oompah-oompah-oompah-oompah-polka-polka-polka-polka.
But, Mr. Como, not being a polka aficionado myself, will you please explain to me the whole dealio with the soup and fish?
I mean … okay. Let’s review the facts here: So you’re higher than a kite, as you just said, which surprises me because that doesn’t really sound like you, and you are troubled, perhaps still stymied by those darn mysterious fiddles, and also afraid that sweet little ditties could somehow cause your death, which is surprising too since you’re this famous crooner and all; so naturally, you’re eating soup and fish, or maybe not eating it, but someone is handing you soup and fish and you’re doing something with these items — maybe it’s some kind of weird cultish ritual, which is an unfair leap of me, true, but you’re the one admitting you’re high here — or maybe it’s one of those hugely popular soup-and-fish eating contests you see all the time at county fairs, but whatever the heck it is, it sounds like this involvement with soup and fish makes wishes come true, in which case I am definitely going to increase my personal contact con sopa y pescado– (for all my illegal alien readers — hola!) — and then somehow you’re dancin’ and you’re demanding lots of room for your stompin’ and hoofin’, probably, one assumes, because of the fact that you’re so very high and have eaten way too much soup and way too much fish and things digestively speaking might be getting a little dicey by now so the area around you really should be cleared but it was all in order to make some big wish come true, which — again, one can only deduce here — seems to be something along the lines of “If only I could eat lots and lots of soup and lots and lots of fish and then dance and dance and dance til I hallucinate that I’m a big blooming flower and ignore things like severe inclement weather that really could kill me and just keep hoop-dee-doin’ it all night long until I puke and puke and puke and puke from all that soup and all that fish and all that dancin’ that made this bestest happiest wish come true.”
Do I have that right, Mr. Como?
One-word explanation: lutefisk.
While he’s at it, have him explain how he managed to catch a falling star and put it in his pocket. All my attempts have failed.
LOL! My late grandmother LOVED Perry Como, according to my dad. Why she’s haunting your house and not my parents’, considering how much she didn’t like my mom, I may never know. But I’m impressed she figured out iTunes.
(Dave, have you tried wearing one of those snazzy cardigan sweaters like Perry?)
Soup and fish – evening clothes. Carry on, Jeeves.
You remember that scene in Blast From the Past when they’re riding in the car flipping through radio stations and Brendon Frasier makes them stop on Perry Como. “Wait for it, wait for it … I love that part.”
So THAT’S it! Thanks, Kate. I should have known it wouldn’t work since all my sweaters are v-neck or crew-neck pullovers, with no pockets. Hot diggety dog diggety boom.