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Pastimes : Don't Ask Rambi -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: Justin C who wrote (62599)	5/17/2002 5:20:15 PM
From: Ish	Respond to of 71178

The frog in Croc's cartoon was found in a cornerstone by a construction guy. He put it in another cornerstone. I guess you can buy the cells or original drawings from some of the Disney animated movies.

To: Justin C who wrote (62599)	5/18/2002 10:26:55 AM
From: Rambi	Read Replies (3) \| Respond to of 71178

Froggie Went A'COurtin'! It must have been a very "in" piece long ago! I wonder if they still sing it in schools. I am sure you were a gifted tree. When I was very little, my mother put me in a music class and we did "Froggie" in a recital. I think we also played tambourines and triangles, woodblocks and sticks, in this musical extravaganza. It must have been brilliantly and movingly performed. Parents were moved to tears, and even some of the performers were overcome and had to leave the stage. I however, was born to perform, though it took a while to figure out just what it was I could do. My mother tried so hard to find my deeply hidden talents. Despite my stickstraight hair and lack of dimples, she placed me in tap lessons, sure that I was the next Shirley Temple. After all, I had won first place in the neighborhood park Talent Contest singing, "Let the Sun Shine In" WITH HAND GESTURES at the age of three. I can still perform this 50 years later, after a few glasses of wine. I loved those tap shoes so much. I wore them around the house, listening to their glamorous tap-tap, tap-tap and admiring their shiny patent leather surface and the darling little bows on top. I practiced hours on the kitchen linoleum while my father sat in the living room, shouting at my mother, "does she HAVE to do that now?" The first recital we got to wear poodle skirts just like the big girls at the high school. In my desire to be Shirley, I begged for curls so hard that my mother gave me a home perm. I was years ahead of my time with the first white afro. In the recital, I turned right instead of left ( I was only five for heaven's sake) and knocked down the little girl next to me. She burst into tears and ran off, but I, a real trooper-- why did no one appreciate the courage this took?-- got up and finished the dance. Still, my mother decided that dance was not my métier and next signed me up for piano lessons, which was a good alternative since all you had to do was get to the piano bench without falling down. We had found my talent. (Sounds like Chapter One from a bad autobiography by a very minor and boring show biz personality)