Mrs. Teabody's "Got" a Brand New Car



Papa's Got A Brand New Bag

Come here sister... Papa's in the swing 
He ain't too hip... about that new breed babe 
He ain't no drag 
Papa's got a brand new bag 

Come here mama... and dig this crazy scene 
He's not too fancy... but his line is pretty clean 
He ain't no drag. 
Papa's got a brand new bag ~ James Brown

Good Harvest Moon-lit Morning from Chez Teabody where all the house is still asleep except for Mrs. Teabody who is feeling especially accomplished this morning having put all the pesky post to rights yesterday afternoon. Do you allow your mail to pile up, Gentle Reader? Mrs. Teabody tries not to, but it just happens. The stack begins with a handwritten letter or card too precious to be torn open when one does not have the time or mood to appreciate its thoughtful contents. Before one can say U.S. Postal Service, the initial treasure has been buried by the robot-generated offers from credit card companies, the quadtriplicate missives from Medicare, supplemental insurance companies, doctors' offices - - should one have the audacity to SNEEZE, - -  the glossy magazines one rarely has time to enjoy, the begging letters posing as invoices from the same glossy magazine companies hoping you won't realize you have already subscribed and paid for well beyond your promised "four score years and ten," the begging letters from the marketeers who grow rich representing themselves as legitimate spokespersons for illnesses all too familiar to seniors. Junk mail. In between lie the actual invitations, bread and butter cards and letters, casino offers and bills from the three or four creditors one will NEVER trust with automated payment. Mrs. Teabody had THAT to take care of and if you think Mrs. Teabody's little enterprise, Tickle Your Fancy, is run by fairies and unicorns, then extend your hand please and accept a nice smart slap.There. Business--even a wee small one -- generates a "whole nother" set of mail. Mrs. Teabody has dealt with it all, Ta very much--at least until today's post arrives and the cycle renews. Sigh.

This is not a blog  about  dealing with mail, however. This is a blog about Mrs. Teabody's new ride. After three or four blogs rife with indecision. After nearly five years of hand-wringing research, debate, vacillation and second and third guessing, Mrs. Teabody ended August behind closed doors with an hour's worth of paper signing, suspected flimflamming, and a wildly-beating trepidatious heart. This was followed by an hour's tutorial within the confines of her expensive new ride where Mrs. Teabody looked on in fascination as a young man about the age of Mrs. Teabody's favorite robe introduced her phone to her car and instructed Mrs. Teabody in twenty-first century gadgetry. This was (finally!) followed by a joyous, pleasant, worry-free ride home whilst the car attempted to engage Mrs. Teabody in thoughtful dialogue. New cars do that, you know. They have all manner of things to say to you. They will NOT let you fiddle with your phone or turn on your lights yourself because new cars are ever so much smarter than the humans who drive them. Mrs. Teabody is fine with that. 

One of the most popular songs of 1965 was "Papa's Got a Brand New Bag." According to Wikipedia this song is "considered seminal in the emergence of funk music as a distinct style. As Brown sings the praises of an old man brave enough to get out on the dance floor of a nightclub, his band provides a horn-heavy backdrop with a prominent rhythm and an electric guitar riff for a hook." Mrs. Teabody doubts that any gentle reader remembers James Brown and the Famous Flames' "smooth backing harmonies (which) contrasted strikingly with Brown's own raw, impassioned delivery, and their synchronized dance steps (which) were a prominent feature of his live shows." 

 Mrs. Teabody mentions this  song because she wants to remember that it was (somehow appropriately) the first song to play on Sirius Bluesville-- second preset -- when she was finally able to bring her new ride up to speed along Route 16 on a bright, after-the-rain last day of August. James Brown's voice shouted, "This is a hit!" and while it would have made for a better, more mood-capturing tune if he'd launched into "I Feel Good," perhaps the universe itself had grown bored with Mrs. Teabody's indecision and programmed "Papa's Got a Brand New Bag" (subtext FINALLY!) to underscore the  moment. A smart car indeed.

 Vroom, Vroom , Gentle Reader!

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