Raye For The Win

Posted on October 30, 2025 by Ron Byrnes

Infectious beat. Funny lyrics.

Baby (whoo-hoo), where the hell is my husband? (Whoo-hoo)
What is taking him so long (whoo-hoo) to find me?
Oh, baby, where the hell is my lover?
Getting down with another? (Whoo-hoo, yeah)
Tell him if you see him, baby, if you see him, tell him, tell him
(He should holler)

Why is this beautiful man waiting for me to get old?
Why he already testing my patience?
I only fear he’s taking time with other women that ain’t me
While I’ve been reviewing applications
Wait ’til I get my hands on him, I’ma tell him off too
For how long he kept mе waiting, anticipating
Praying to the Lord to give him to my loving arms
And despite my frustrations

And he must need me (he must need me)
Completely (completely)
How my heart yearns for him
Is he far away? (Is he far away?)
Is he okay? (Is he okay?)
This man is testing me, uh-huh, uh-huh
Uh, help me, help me, help me, Lord
I need you to tell me

I’m doing lonely acrobatics, unzipping my dress at 2 a.m.
And I’m tired of living like this
He must be out there getting ready, tryna fix up his tie
Uh, huh-huh, uh, hello? This where your wife is
Wait ’til I get your heart going, I’ma turn it up too
For how much I’m ’bout to love ya, no one above ya
Praying to the Lord to hurry, hurry you along
Baby, I intend to rush ya

T-t-t-t-tell him I’m mm, tell him I’m mm with the mm, mm, mm
Tell him I’m kind, tell him I’m 5’5″
Tell him I got brown eyes and a growing fear
That if he doesn’t find me now, I’m gonna die alone, so can he
Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, hurry up here, sir?
Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh, huh
I want it, want it, want it, want it, want it

I would like a ring, I would like a ring
I would like a diamond ring on my wedding finger
I would like a big and shiny diamond
That I could wave around and talk and talk about it
And when the day is here, forgive me, God, that I could ever doubt it
Until death, I do, I do, I do, I-
Is he about it, ’bout it, ’bout it?
This man is testing me, uh-huh, uh-huh
Uh, help me, help me, help me, Lord
I need you to tell me

Baby (whoo-hoo), where the hell is my husband? (Whoo-hoo)
What is taking him so long (whoo-hoo) to find me?
Oh, baby, where the hell is my lover?
Getting down with another? (Whoo-hoo, yeah)
Tell him that my grandma said it, tell him grandma said it
(Your husband is coming)

I would like a ring, I would like a ring
I would like a diamond ring on my wedding finger
I would like a big and shiny (ooh) diamond (yes), diamond (yes)
Diamond (yes), diamond (yes), diamond (yes), oh
Where is my husband? (Ah)

She’s A Poet, Does She Know It?

Posted on August 26, 2025 by Ron Byrnes

Yes, of course I’m all caught up on the Taylor Swift-Travis Kelce engagement story. Here’s my fave part of the paper of record’s story of the impending nuptials.

“I’m just there to support Travis,” she said of her trips to the games in the interview with Time. “I have no awareness of if I’m being shown too much and pissing off a few dads, Brads and Chads.”

Sentences To Ponder

Posted on July 25, 2025 by Ron Byrnes

Happy Gilmore 2 edition.

“Like the first film, the sequel proves moronic, witless and relentlessly vulgar. Which is to say, Happy Gilmore fans will love it.”

Believe it or not, I have not seen the original, but being in desperate need of comedic relief, I’m in no position to be finicky. So go ahead, queue it up.

Postscript. Approximately 6 minutes of the first 60 were smile, if not, laugh inducing. After that, it became unwatchable.

Sarabande from Bach’s Fourth Cello Suite

Posted on July 19, 2025 by Ron Byrnes

Zachary Woolfe, the classical music critic of the New York Times, offers this enticing invite. “In Just a Few Minutes, This Music Will Change Your Day“. The subtitle reads, “Calm and graceful, this cello piece by Bach slowly dances through hopefulness, longing and introspection.”

Is there anyone in more desperate need for calm, grace, and hope than me?

I listened. And I don’t know if it changed my day, but it did make me think that classical music could be a pillar of my eventual recovery.

Dig Woolfe’s conclusion.

“The cello suites were probably written around 1720, when Bach was employed by a German prince. He spent much of his career working for churches, so this was a rare period in which he got to focus on secular works. There was no need for his music to be about anything, to have any practical use. He could simply celebrate instruments and the full range of what they could do, quietly pushing them to their limits.”

Beautiful. Bach’s sarabande and Woolfe’s framing of it.

Paragraph to Ponder

Posted on June 25, 2025 by Ron Byrnes

Via LOliver by way of JByrnes:

“There is so much to tend to, hold, be with, feel. May you find so much gentleness for your own process. May you let your humanity unfurl, over and over again. May the grief and hurt wrapped up in facing the world be held by your own willingness to look. May love soften the hard edges. May light soothe the dark places. May you return to your own heart’s knowing and trust what it whispers to you. May you let yourself do all of this so imperfectly, that imperfection a reminder that you are a human being, figuring it all out for the first time. I’m with you.”

Early evenings, like a lot of the time that I care for Lynn, I’m on the move. Making dinner, getting her fed, eating myself, doing dishes, cleaning the counters, taking out the trash, vacuuming the hardwood floor.

Activity blunts the grief. But I pressed pause Monday evening and it rushed in.

I stopped cleaning to dance. In the reflection of the oven, I saw the real dancer watching me. When I try dancing, she just smiles.

And now, the dancer pushes her wheelchair away from the table so that she can move toward the pretend dancer.

“You want to dance, don’t you?” Bigger smile. I expedite things by wheeling her into the kitchen. Where I help her up and embrace her. We slow dance like first-time junior highers slowly swaying back and forth.

But dammit, it’s The National singing “I Need My Girl”.

The refrain rips through. “I need my girl. I need my girl. I need my girl.”

My girl has no clue I’m crying.

May love soften the hard edges. May light soothe the dark places.

Famous By Extension

Posted on June 15, 2025 by Ron Byrnes

A week ago. Reading The New Yorker in bed on my iPad. And there it was. A poem by a colleague.

As If Things Aren’t Bad Enough

Posted on June 10, 2025 by Ron Byrnes

The world is a whole lot less funky. Rest in peace, Sly Stone.

“He was a special case,” Questlove reflected, “cooler than everything around him by a factor of infinity.”

You May Not Know It But

Posted on May 28, 2024 by Ron Byrnes

You need a little LIttle Simz in your life. All of us do.

Team Kendrick Lamar

Posted on May 20, 2024 by Ron Byrnes

Told the Good Wife I’m on Team Kendrick Lamar in the second highest profile feud going today. After, of course, Trump-Cohen. She asked what he’s like. I explained, “He’s edgy, from Compton, more of a populist. More substantive lyrics. Drake is more commercial, always seeking the limelight, and will never have a Pulitzer.”

Then this dropped. Oops. If I’m honest with myself, maybe I’m not the rap connoisseur I think I am.

Postscript: The article says Drake lives in a $100m mansion, so I guess Kendrick Lamar can still claim to be more of a commoner.

Pressing Pause

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