SAN DIEGO–A language teacher, wit and troubador, the late Hal Wingard composed some 325 songs, most of them on flights between San Diego and other parts of California, where he consulted on language programs for school. To hear Hal singing his songs, please follow this link, then pick the song by number. We think today’s selection fits in well with upcoming April Fool’s Day jokes and pranks.
#309 Security Guard
I work as guard, a private guard,
To keep the public peace,
Without romance of Scotland Yard
Or regular police.
When I’m on hand folks feel secure,
Relieved that I am there.
They say my presence helps assure
That criminals take care.
And yet, I have a deep-felt fear–
Which good guards never should–
That my endowments don’t come near
What makes a good guard good.
I know when all is said and done
I have to show I’m tough,
But since I never wear a gun,
Will “tough” be good enough?
I’m insecure.
I’m so unsure
I’m an insecure security guard.
My uniform is just for show.
My badge is tin, not steel.
A common crook will surely know
How insecure I feel.
I’m plagued by doubt; I’m insecure.
It must be plain to see.
The only trait I know for sure
Is insecurity.
I’m insecure.
I’m so unsure
I’m an insecure security guard.
I work as guard, a private guard,
To keep the public peace,
Without romance of Scotland Yard
Or regular police.
When I’m on hand folks feel secure,
Relieved that I am there.
They say my presence helps assure
That criminals take care.
But I’m insecure.
I’m so unsure
I’m an insecure security guard.
(c) Estate of Hal Wingard; dedicated to Eli Meltzer, who at Art for Ohr Shalom, joked about the insecure security guard, January 13, 2003 (309)
Words completed March 15, 2000, on flights from San Diego to Sacramento via Los Angeles
#317 Freeway
I was camping on the free. . .way,
Roasting chestnuts on my free. . .day,
When an ostrich came a flying,
Landed near me loudly crying,
With no clue where he might be.
So I took out my Thesaur. . .us
To acquire directions for. . .us.
But the content had no humor,
And the ostrich spread the rumor
That his feet were feeling sore.
He declined my invita. . .tion
For a freeway fun vaca. . .tion.
Though the offer was exciting,
And the chestnuts quite inviting
He would soon be on his way.
Freeway nests are no way sui. . .ted
For an ostrich so uproo. . .ted.
And each human freeway lover
Surely will in time discover
That the freeway’s not a zoo
(Well, not all the time)
(c) Estate of Hal Wingard, January 17, 2006. Words written January 16, 2006, at home, to fit a melody running through my head. In crafting the words, this melody got lost. So the text is set to a different melody.
#296 They’re Lovers
They’re lovers!
Don’t ask me how I know.
They’re lovers!
It’s little signs that show.
Perhaps it’s how they share their food,
While dining side by side,
The way she savors offerings,
When he says, “Open wide!”
Perhaps it’s how she reaches out
As if to touch his curls,
Or how he has a dreamy look
When staring at her pearls.
They’re lovers!
Don’t ask me how I know.
They’re lovers!
It’s little signs that show.
Perhaps it’s how he strokes her wrist
With gentle finger tips,
Or how she beams when he tells jokes,
A smile upon her lips.
Perhaps it’s just their giddiness,
While drinking champagne fizz.
Perhaps it’s how his foot finds hers,
Or her knee brushes his.
They’re lovers!
Don’t ask me how I know.
They’re lovers!
It’s little signs that show.
Perhaps it’s how she looks at him
With wide admiring eye,
Or how he often takes her hand
And holds it on his thigh.
I’ll never know just how I know,
But nonetheless I trust
That little signs can show it’s love. . .
Unless, of course, it’s lust.
They’re lovers!
(c) Estate of Hal Wingard, December 12, 1991. Words begun December 11, 1991, on a flight from San Diego to San Francisco and completed on the return flight the next day.
#296 Hear the Iconoclast
Beliefs that we hold to be true
Are often perverse bugaboo.
We’re locked in detention
Of social convention
That regulates all that we do,
. . . . all that we do.
So, hear the iconoclast,
Ideas that he has amassed!
With simple suggestion
He’ll help us to question
Beliefs we have held in the past,
. . . . held in the past.
.
Applying both reason and fact,
With logic that others have lacked,
We’ll soon be debasing
And quickly replacing
Beliefs that are rightly attacked,
. . . . rightly attacked.
So, heed the iconoclast who
Can help us debunk bugaboo.
Beliefs we’re attacking
We’ll throw out as lacking
And dream up beliefs that are new,
. . . . beliefs that are new.
No doubt that iconoclast doubt
Can change what believing’s about.
By always updating
We’ll end up creating
Beliefs we need never throw out,
. . . . never throw out,
Never, never, never. . . .throw out.
(c) Estate of Hal Wingard, February 10, 2002. Words begun February 4, 2002, on flight from San Diego to LAX on way to San Jose and expanded in Salinas while working at Gavilan View Middle School for 3 days. Final verse added April 13, 2002, at home.