What's So Funny?
Russell Gayer, author speaker
Song Writer’s Block
Long before I became an obscure humor writer, I was equally unknown as a songwriter and poet. A sort of Robert Zimmerman of the South, if you will. The primary challenge with songwriting is getting the lyrics aligned with the melody. To do this, I would count syllables and search for words to fit the allotted space without sounding too awkward.
Here are some examples that didn’t work out.
Mary had a little cucumber.
Mary had a little kosher ham.
Twinkle, twinkle little space capsule.
Twinkle, twinkle little moonbeam in a jar.
As you can see, it’s not as easy as people like Bjorn Rudberg make it look.
If you’re new to Friday Flash Fiction, the musical director who chastises the tuba section for making farting noises, is Hester Van Cleef Wisoff-Fields. If you’d like to take a stab at this exercise in madness, head over to her blog for step-by-step instructions. To view the FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block click here.
John drummed the eraser end of the number-two yellow pencil against a lined pad and stared out the window.
The music inside his head ran a continuous loop, in one ear and out the other. Along the route it passed a giant doing cartwheels, statues wearing high heels, and elephants playing tambourines.
“Bother me tomorrow,” he told his wife when she brought up the subject of pre-paid funerals. “Today, I’ll buy no sorrow.”
“We’ll die someday.” Angry, she began to stutter. “Now’s the time to doo, doo, doo it.”
The missing lyrics appeared as she stormed out the back door.
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For those of you not familiar with the song, this my version of how John Fogerty discovered the lyrics for “Lookin’ Out My Back Door.”
38 Comments on “Song Writer’s Block”
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What's So Funny? 
Ha ha! Excellent! One never knows what will trigger the right words! 😉
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True. Just like these stories. I never know where they will come from.
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Mary had a little lamb and then she had some more.
Great rhyming technique, I see a bright future for you as the Poet Laureate of Ozark.
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I hope Mary had some salad and scalloped potatoes too. You’re making me hungry.
My poetry days are pretty much over. Humor is a lot more fun to write.
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Dear John,
I always like your song “There’s a Bathroom on the Right.” What a toe tapper. As usual, you’ve set the bar low enough to ice skate over. I can always count on humor from the tuba section. So goes another week that I’m keeping your joy buzzer.
Shalom,
Hester
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Dear Hester,
Thanks for the kind feedback. I know your favorite line of that song is, “Please remember to lower the ring, I need a target to aim at.” Pardon me while I tune up the tuba.
Cheers,
John
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Could you be any more fascinating? Song writer? Comedic writer? Insurance commercial …. whatever person? ( I forgot that bit)
Happy Holidays Russell,
Tracey
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You left off the one area where I excel–Lazy, Procrastinating Underachiever.
Merry Christmas to you, Tracey.
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Well ok then. We can be friends because I resemble those comments lately.
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Is John’s wife saying he should die now or make plans now? He’d better be careful.
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She wants to pre-pay their funerals. It’s a nice concept. You get locked in at today’s price and it relieves the family of the financial burden when you finally do kick the bucket.
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LOL – The couple here are so different …one a dreamer and one a practical planner . That sounds like a recipe for a tragedy yet it’s comic in your story. Well done – and I enjoyed your lesson on Nursery rhymes in the intro 🙂
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Thanks. We can only imagine the hard work those poor nursery rhyme writers went through when selecting the right words.
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You did did did John Fogerty proud, Russell.
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Ha! You crack me up, Steph.
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Oh, I knew the song alright. Your head sounds a lot like my husband’s. Wacky place, that.
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I think your husband and I would get along quite splendidly.
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how about that? mama is all-knowing. she can even provide the missing lyrics without intending to. the pre-paid funeral plan might not be that bad after all. 🙂
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A pre-paid funeral is good planning, but I’m like John–in no hurry to do so.
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Ha, have to admit I had never dived into that particular John Fogarty song… Almost like a Lewis Caroll of Rock 😉 … Song lyrics are so crazily difficult compared to poetry… Just like limericks are the most advanced poetry.
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I love limericks, but most of them I know are too dirty to share in mixed company.
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Yes, but right now I really need to …. can you tell me where I can find … oh, there’s a bathroom on the right? I’ll be right back. Damn, can’t come up with any missing lyrics today!
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I’m sure they’ll come to you while your on the pot. That’s where most humorist do their best work.
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Brought a smile to my day with this one, thanks. Ever thought about going into the jingle business?
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Tis the season for jingles 🙂
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Excellent, Russell. I liked where his mind went from the giants doing cartwheels (love that!) to the elephants. Such a great piece of tight writing!
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That’s was John’s mind, although I like the visual image of giant’s doing cartwheels. We tend to think of them as being very clumsy, and as for the elephants playing tambourine, it had better be a really slow song.
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AnElephantCant be Mr Tambourine Man
But the reason is not what you think
His music is duller
Despite his bright colour
AnElephant is not in the pink
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LOL..that was awesome Russell. You totally caught me off guard but I “got it” the moment i read that last line.
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The set-up was a little slow and clumsy, but I’m glad the punch line came through.
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You nailed this one Russell! Wow! Love it. The staccato rhythm to the narrative, the crips verbage… love this!
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Crisp verbiage? You make it sound like I’m serving a salad.
BTW – What kind of dressing would you like? Our house dressing is cracked nut vinaigrette. I assure you it’s better than it sounds.
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I’ll take it! Whatever you’re serving, I’m in.
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You should be in advertising… you couldn’t do any worse than the current crop of copywriters. Or could you…? I’ll need to consider that some more.
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That’s right, Sandra. Don’t be too quick to rush to judgment. My track record as an underachiever speaks for itself.
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Very enjoyable and very clever of you to pull all this together. Got me humming.
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I was worried that all the great songwriters were dead or on life-support and rap would be the only thing that would pass for “music.” Whew! Or should I say, “doo, doo, doo, doo, thank you, you, you, you!”
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Hey man, don’t diss Uncle Bobby.
The times they are a-changing and a hard rain’s gonna fall.
Then we’re Talking World War 3 Blues.
Oh, cool story.
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