Almost Like Being Sunburned

(Based on the song “Almost Like Being In Love” from the Broadway musical Brigadoon.  Comments follow.)

Maybe my cream ran out of power,
For I look like a lobster
And it’s just been half an hour.
Maybe the air’s especially dry
For I look like one big French fry….

What a day this has been,
What a rare state I’m in.
Why, it’s almost like being sunburned.
There’s a frown on my face
Which is red every place;
Why, it’s almost like being sunburned.

Please don’t say sunburns are appealing:
That’s a pun that I think should be spurned.
And by the way that I feel
When that skin starts to peel
Why, it’s almost like being sunburned.

When the itch on your skin
Feels without and within–
Yes, it’s almost like being sunburned.
When the blisters are raised,
And you’re nauseous and dazed–
Yes, it’s almost like being sunburned.

Please don’t say sunburns are appealing:
It’s a pun many stomachs has turned.
And from the way that I feel
When that skin starts to peel,
Why, it’s almost like being,
I should say it’s like being,
It’s almost like being… sun…burned……

This parody, of course, is based on the famous song from the Broadway musical Brigadoon. I must say it’s been around for awhile. Well, I guess they both have: the parody and the original. In fact this may be my oldest surviving.

The idea of a village disappearing and reappearing for one day every hundred years is a romantic one, but terribly awkward. Reappearing a hundred years after the initial disappearance wouldn’t have been a bad thing, but to keep doing it would lead to certain other dangers. One would hate, for example, to come back one day and find that your space had been taken over by a suburb–or worse, a motorway.

I’ve never thought highly of the town’s stated motive for disappearing. If it was really May 1746/7 when the town vanished, they’d have had strong incentive to vanish for a while, even without the threat of witches. One source I found while researching this blurb indicated that the story itself, witches and all, was German in origin, and moved to Scotland on the whim of the writers. It is unclear whether they went with the witches theory because a) they just preferred it, b) they didn’t know about the Jacobite collapse, or c) in the glow of the post-war era when the production was launched nobody wanted to risk our cozy relations with the British by raking up Culloden.

Nevertheless, the romance of it lives on.  I’ve found a link to a Brigadoon Bed & Breakfast, which must be of interest to anyone who would like to go to sleep in a bed and wake up in an empty field.  And then there was a Brigadoon Military Surplus store where I lived in Oklahoma, which inexplicably disappeared and rematerialized in a new location every so often–the store, not the city, I mean.  At least they were open more than a day between changes.  More historical details on the battle of Culloden, its background, and its aftermath, from a variety of different points of view, are only a few keystrokes away.

Copyright 2005, 2010.

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