Places you would go RIGHT NOW, if you could.

The very last word should probably rest with Ella Fitzgerald:

Manhattan
Lorenz & Hart

Summer journeys to Niag’ra
And to other places aggra-
vate all our cares.
We’ll save our fares;

I’ve a cozy little flat in
What is known as old Manhattan,
We’ll settle down
Right here in town.

CHORUS 1

We’ll have Manhattan,
The Bronx and Staten
Island too.
It’s lovely going through the Zoo.

It’s very fancy
On old Delancey
Street you know.
The subway charms us so,
When balmy breezes blow
To and fro.

And tell me what street
Compares with Mott Street
In July?
Sweet pushcarts gently gliding by.

The great big city’s a wondrous toy
Just made for a girl and boy –
We’ll turn Manhattan
Into an isle of joy.

CHORUS 2

We’ll go to Greenwich,
Where modern men itch
To be free,
And Bowling Green you’ll see with me.

We’ll bathe at Brighton,
The fish you’ll frighten
When you’re in,
Your bathing suit so thin
Will make the shellfish grin,

Fin to fin.

I’d like to take a
Sail on Jamaica
Bay with you,
And fair Canarsie’s Lakes we’ll view.

The city’s bustle cannot destroy
The dreams of a girl and boy –
We’ll turn Manhattan
Into an isle of joy.

CHORUS 3

We’ll go to Yonkers,
Where true love conquers
In the wilds
And starve together, dear, in Childs’.

We’ll go to Coney
And eat bologny
On a roll,
In Central Park we’ll stroll
Where our first kiss we stole,
Soul to soul.

And South Pacific
Is a terrific
Show they say,
We both may see it close some day.

The city’s clamour can never spoil
The dreams of a boy and goil –
We’ll turn Manhattan
Into an isle of joy.

CHORUS 4

We’ll have Manhattan,
The Bronx and Staten
Island too,
We’ll try to cross Fifth Avenue.

As black as onyx
We’ll find the Bronix
Park Express,
Our Flatbush flat, I guess,
Will be a great success,
More or less.

A short vacation
On Inspiration
Point we’ll spend,
And in the station house we’ll end.

But Civic Virtue cannot destroy
The dreams of a girl and boy –
We’ll turn Manhattan
Into an isle of joy!

[music down] You’re right, plnnr—there’s really no place like your own back yard! [music up]

When it’s nesting time in Flatbush, we will take a little flat—
With a welcome on the mat,
Where there’s room to swing a cat!
I’ll hang up my hat, I’ll hang up my hat,
Life will be so grand with you—
When it’s nesting time in Flatbush,
On Flatbush Avenue!

[THAT’LL teach Ukelele Ike to hand over a song cue to US!]

  1. Walking in the heather on a hillside overlooking Loch Ness just south of Inverness.

  2. On a catamaran just off the Na Pali coast in Kauai.

  3. Camping on Blue Ridge Pinnacle or Craggie Pinnacle along the Blue Ridge Parkway north of Ashville, N.C.

  4. Sitting in the Lexington #2 barbeque sipping sweet tea and eating some 'Que. (Lexington, N.C.)

Dave

Fresno, CA.

Oh, a coupla WISE guys, eh?

{grips the end of Eve’s nose in the pliers while poking plnnr in the eyes}

{clears throat and strikes Eb major on the harmonium}

Oh! the night that I struck New York,
I went out for a quiet walk;
Folks who are “on to” the city say,
Better by far that I took Broadway;
But I was out to enjoy the sights,
There was the Bow’ry ablaze with lights;
I had one of the devil’s own nights!
I’ll never go there any more!

The Bow’ry, the Bow’ry!
They say such things, and they do strange things
On the Bow’ry, the Bow’ry!
I’ll never go there any more!

I had walked but a block or two,
When up came a fellow, and me he knew!
Then a policeman came walking by,
Chased him away and I asked him why?
“Wasn’t he pulling your leg?” said he;
Said I “He never laid hands on me!”
Get off the Bow’ry, you Yep!" said he,
I’ll never go there any more!

{CHORUS}

While you’re down on the Bowery, Ike, be sure to stop by Rabbi Filthy McShlomo’s Kosher Dance Hall for two fingers o’ gin. “In a doity glass!”

I know exactly where I want to be.

But for the purposes of this, I will be a little less exact.

I want to be in an apartment in Ferndale, MI :slight_smile:

September seems too long to wait :frowning:

Rick

I may be going out on a limb, here, but I have to say that the above may just be Eve’s finest creation so far here on the SDMB…even beyond Halvsie the Wonder Dog. (Rebbe McSchlomo made his first appearance in the NYC Dopefest thread)

I can’t look at it without chortling.

I want to be in the T.G.I. Friday’s at the Greenspointe Mall in Houston, Texas.

There’s a cute waitress there working her butt off who deserves a foot massage.

sigh Damn I miss that girl.

I would want to be in England, Hipperholme to be exact. Hey, waitaminnit! If I am there and RickQ is here…uh, maybe I should just stay put. :slight_smile:

Ike, given your penchant for all things Bowery-esque I have to ask if you’ve read “Up in the Old Hotel,” by Joseph Mitchell?

Mitchell wrote for The New Yorker for quite a while but developed writer’s block and stopped writing (for all intents and purposes) in 1965. The editors of The New Yorker thought so much of his work that they kept him on the payroll and paid him even thought he didn’t produce anything for another dozen years or so.

“Up in the Old Hotel” is a series of character studies and pieces he wrote about the human flotsam and jetsam that inhabitated (still inhabits?) the Bowery. He does a major piece on McSorley’s Saloon that is worth the price of the book.

And now, back to our Travelogue in Song…

Winnipeg.

Some place called “Early Intake” in California (northern). I hiked there as a kid in the Boy Scouts. I’m not sure exactly where it’s at, but I remember hiking a long way and coming around a bend in the trail to the campsite right on the river near a waterfall. Very beautiful.

Augusta Ga…I want to see the home of the Masters and a few other sights… :smiley:

Keith

I wish I were in Mamou, Lussiany. It’s out in the country, west of NOLA, in Evangeline Parish. When living in MSPI, I’d drive down there to take a break. The Hotel Mamou, downtown, doesn’t even have phones, less TV’s, in the room, and you have to hunt down the staff and beg for new sheets. But right about now is when all the local musicians are playing to assuage the heat, and it’s the most best time I’ve ever had.

Damn the now long drive. I really need that assuagementident. AAAAIIIIEEEEEE!!!

England and the Scottish Highlands.

I could happily spend several months wandering around both places soaking up the history and seeing all those places I’ve read about for years.

Someday …

My heart is still in Hawaii. It’s so hard to get back into the normal swing of things after a vacation (and I’ve been back for a month)!

Hell, I’ve got an autographed copy. (Usedta work with Mitchell’s granddaughter, you see.)

The McSorley’s piece is okay, but I think his best work is “All You Can Hold for Five Bucks,” an essay about the long-vanished NYC tradition of “beefsteaks,” or major-testosterone parties (often thrown as political fundraisers) where burly businessmen scarfed down pound after pound of broiled steaks and chops, washing them back with foaming schooners of pilsener. At the time Mitchell wrote this article, around 1939, the tradition was already dying out.

If you like Mitchell, read his contemporary but less-well-publicized New Yorker colleague, A.J. Liebling. I think he leaves Joe in the dust. North Point Press did an excellent collection of his stuff ten years back called THE TELEPHONE BOOTH INDIAN, now out of print but probably available on BiblioFind. BETWEEN MEALS is pretty good too, and easily available, as is THE EARL OF LOUISIANA, his stellar biography of Huey Long’s stupider brother.

Okay, hijack over.

Thanks for the tip (that’s one of the best things about this board, IMHO, start in one direction, get pointed in another, end up somewhere completely different).

I’d go to where Dylan is, of course.

That and swing by Wales, and Ireland, and Virginia to see Justin…and Indianopolis to see Ryan…and Tennessee to see David…

realizes it sounds like I have whores in every state

loves it

Hehehe.