"Little Boxes"

Little boxes on the hillside,
Little boxes made of ticky tacky,
Little boxes on the hillside,
Little boxes all the same.
There's a green one and a pink one
And a blue one and a yellow one,
And they're all made out of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same.

And the people in the houses
All went to the university,
Where they were put in boxes
And they came out all the same,
And there's doctors and lawyers,
And business executives,
And they're all made out of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same.

Notes:
words and music by Malvina Reynolds; copyright 1962 Schroder Music Company, renewed 1990
photo by Robert Isaacs, Ticky Tacky Houses in Daly City, 1968

_________________________________________

If any of you have ever watched the Showtime series "Weeds," you've heard this little ditty of a song during the opening credits. (and if you haven't watched it, you should--it's really funny and good). The song was originally written and sung by Malvina Reynolds, back in the 60s. The song has been remade tons of times, but now it seems that "Weeds" has started inviting guest artists to re-interpret the song for the opening credits. I like the idea, but the song sort of loses its kitsch when put to electric guitars or orchestral accompaniments.

So that is why I've chosen the original version (two verses of which are posted just above here) to be my theme song for the week. Yes, I travel in the land down under (down under I-10, that is), visiting my family in LA (Lower Alabama, for the uninitiated).

My parents are graciously putting me up, and all my stuff, in their ticky-tacky box, which is where they moved after selling the family pecan orchard, aka 'the Pecanderosa'. Well, okay, they moved here because my brother was interested in the investment opportunity and thought they'd be happier and better cared-for closer to him. And I can't say that's not true.

But it is Boring here. All the houses on the cul-de-sac look alike, the neighbors wave, and the next street over, and the street after that, and two more across the road all have cul-de-sacs that look exactly like this one and neighbors that wave exactly like these. I turned into the wrong driveway on the wrong cul-de-sac, and of course....they waved. Sometimes I have to take long drives that leave modest tracker carbon footprints through the farmland that surrounds these housing developments, or along the beach road. I know it's the beach road from memory, and signs, and I think that maybe all of those tall condo towers must be facing something worth looking at. But I don't have a pass, so I can't see the beach.

Maybe I exaggerate. Maybe boredom makes me exaggerate. Maybe boredom makes me exaggerate and repeat myself. Or maybe it's those wonderful blue pills that mom takes for her back pain (or used to) that make me exaggerate. She hasn't noticed that several are missing: she actually prefers the red dolls.