But I never had to travel to store up memories. It's almost as if I actually went to Burma and stood near the old Moulmein pagoda, lookin' eastward to the sea...
"Elephints a-pilin' teak
In the sludgy squdgy creek,
An' the silence 'ung that 'eavy, you was 'arf afraid to speak!
"On the road to Mandalay,
Where the flyin' fishes play,
An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China 'crost the Bay!"
One of my best memories from grammar school is seeing Judson H. on stage in the auditorium singing "Mandalay." He had a good bass voice, or deep baritone, which was unusual for such a big guy. Most bassos have big vocal cords but small stature. (Exceptions: Milne and Samuel Ramey. I forget Milne's first name.) Maybe Judson wasn't as big as he looked to me when I was in grammar school or junior high. But I did see him at a prom later on, dancing ramrod straight, with Elizabeth B.'s face mashed right above his belt buckle.
I also wonder how many (if any) other kids were so impressed by that poem/song, that they looked up Mandalay and began a love for Rudyard Kipling that lasted the rest of their lives.
"'Er petticoat was yaller, an' 'er little cap was green,
An' 'er name was Supi-Yawlat, just the same as Theebaw's queen..."
(It's a love poem.)
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