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The sun'll come out tomorrow

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Yes, I looked it up—apparently “sun’ll” is a word. Actually, it’s a contraction of the words “sun” and “will.” As far as I can tell, it has only been used in connection with “Annie,” the Broadway musical based on the popular Harold Gray comic strip “Little Orphan Annie,” but I’m guessing you already knew that.

That tough little red-headed moppet has gotten me through a few rough patches over the years, and this last week was no exception. “The sun’ll come out tomorrow,” Annie sings, wringing pathos from the audience as she sticks out her chin, prepared to tackle any number of obstacles thrown in her path. “Bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow, there’ll be sun.” Hmmm. Another contraction, this time in the form of “there’ll,” which isn’t quite as easy to say as “sun’ll,” but frankly, neither one rolls off the tongue with ease. Unless you’re Annie, I suppose…

Where was I? Oh, right. Seeking inspiration from a singing, dancing cartoon 10-year-old. “Just thinkin’ about tomorrow,” she warbles, fist in the air, “clears away the cobwebs and the sorrow, ‘till there’s none!” Before I beat the metaphor to death, I’ll get to the point. I’ve been a little depressed (what else is new) about a number of things, including a friend in the hospital, my never-ending mountain of bills, (can you say “bottom dollar?”) climate change and “Keeping up with the Kardashians” (Google it) in that order. Concerned about my friend, I thought about Annie and her cheery advice to “hang on ‘til tomorrow,” as it simultaneously dawned on me that the kid was wild about contractions.

I considered asking vocalist Joanna Gass to sing “Tomorrow” at the Bethel Lakeside Music series inaugural concert last Thursday in the community park overlooking Kauneonga Lake, but thought better of it. “She probably knows what she’s doing,” I mused, and kept the suggestion to myself as Gass and her band—Steve Schwartz, Kenny Windheim, Mike Cervone and Eric Nies—entertained a sizable crowd in their inimitable style, as I stuck out my chin and grinned. Naturally, Gass introduced my dog (maybe she didn’t see me?) to the audience, who applauded her highness and lined up for “pawtographs” as the sun slowly set in the west.

Thinking about the next day (“I love ya, tomorrow!”) I agreed to meet up with other River Reporter staffers to host a booth at the grand opening celebration of the new farmers’ market in Narrowsburg, NY. Blue skies, warmer-than-warm temps and booth after booth featuring fresh fruit, veggies, herbs, eggs, wine, prepared foods and so much more beckoned. All the while, the crowd was serenaded by another talented singer, Janet Burgan, who can always be counted on (IMHO) to entertain. As music from Burgan’s newest CD “Nothing but Love Songs” filled the air, Willow Wisp Organic Farm’s Greg Swartz wended his way through the market, offering fresh carrots, while Farm Arts Collective stilt walkers amazed adults and children while waving bubble wands and asking to pose with (uh huh) my dog. Oh, right, I was there too.

Upon finally receiving a good report the next day from my friend’s doctor, I thought about Annie and her sage advice. “Tomorrow, tomorrow,” she wails, “I love ya, tomorrow. You’re only a day away.” She’s right, I suppose. If we only can “hang on ‘till tomorrow,” anything can happen. Can’t get the darn song out of your head? You’re welcome!

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