In which His Majesty sings LOUD to end the crisis 'n stuff.

The Great Depression1.0 had Woody Guthrie. The 60s had Bob Dylan. Arlo Guthrie warned us that "if ya want to end the war 'n stuff, ya gotta sing LOUD." FDR had an economic and military crisis on his hands. The 60s had a crazy war, civil rights fighting and a lot of energy wasted on racism and genderism. Nowadays we've got the granddaddy of 'em all, the mother of all crises, the Triple Crown of Crises: the economic collapse of the world, wars breaking out everywhere you look, and an ecological disaster bearing down on us[who cares whether Mother Nature started it, we started it or Al Gore started it. How high's the water, Momma?]. And to make matters worse, His Majesty has no idea who the next American Idol is going to be.

So His Majesty awakened at 3AM with the sudden realization that what ails this country is that we don't have the good songs we need to deal with this crisis. So we went right to work modifying some of the old ones to suit our modern crisis. [Mrs. Majesty ordered us out of the bedroom after asking what time it was. Listen, when the inspiration comes, ya gotta sing LOUD.]

Thanks Woody

"This house is fannie's

This house is freddie's

From California to the New York Island

From the redwood forest to the Gulf stream waters

This house was foreclosed for you and me."

And that Peter, Paul and Hoozit favorite

"Where have all the good jobs gone

Long time passing

Where have all the 401Ks gone

Long time ago

Where have all the good jobs gone

Gone to outsourcing everyone

When will they ever learn? When will they ever learn?"

Brother, can you spare a job?

"If I had a hammer...

It'd probably be made in China

Or maybe Indonesia

But not in this laaannnnd"

An inconvenient change we'd not hope for

"Puff, the Magic Dragon

Lived by the sea

Until the seas rose thirty feet

And drowned his ass."

Sing it, Bobby

"Come gather 'round people, wherever you roam

And admit it that the waters around you have grown

Except during this summer's drought

For the climates they are a changin'"

Day is Done

"Tell me why you're crying, my son

I know you're frightened like everyone

Is it the thunder in the distance you fear

Will it help if I stay very near?

I am here

Do you ask why I'm sighing, my son

You shall inherit what mankind has done

In a world filled with sorrow and woe

If you ask me why this is so

I really don't know

And if you take my hand, my son

All will be well when the day is done

And if you take my hand my son, my son

All will be well when the day is done"

At the moment, there's a few folks over at COTS and the Petaluma Kitchen who could use a hand. Ordinary, good folks. Frightened, like you and me, my son. And hungry in a land where people are on diets. If you ask me why this is so, I really don't know. But "take my hand, my son" could mean stop off at the grocery store, buy several bags of rice, pasta, beans and drop them off at the Petaluma Kitchen between 7AM and 3PM. If you are in the neighborhood and prefer to drop them off on the porch at the royal castle, His Majesty will send an intern to deliver them in the royal Hummer.

All will be well when the day is done. First, let's "take my hand". And don't forget to sing LOUD.