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Did you know that the ring a ding dillo is actually a recurrence of English Madrigal lyric decoration?
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Well, duh! Doesn’t everyone? I guess they don’t at that. It’s these youngsters they have around nowadays. You know – when Eminem sings “ring a ding dillo” they think
he’s the one that made it up; they have no sense of history. In my day we had to memorize motifs of English Madrigal lyric decoration in second grade for crying out loud.
Hi there, GtG. Welcome to the Downs, since this is the first time our posts have crossed paths. I guess the Shire did have its own sort of humdrum business after all. In answer to your first question, though – I think I’d take Lobelia. At least you can tell the story and laugh about it with your friends afterwards, plus she has to walk over to your house if she wants to trouble you and you have the consolation of knowing she has to hoof it on back where she came from, too. There are so many things that are depressing about getting a telemarketing call – the fact of a stranger who’s been trained to ignore “no” as an answer pitching me a product I don’t want or need; the idea that he’s sitting in a (no doubt drab, windowless, and grey) room with dozens, maybe hundreds of others who do the same thing all day long; the fact that I’ve been reduced to an anonymous number on a list in a computer somewhere; etc.
I’d also trade my real-life legal code for whatever passes for Hobbit legalese. I can’t picture the Shire code taking up much more space than a pamphlet. If seven witnesses is the extent of Shire red-tape and bureaucracy, count me in!
To drag this post somewhat back on topic, though, I’ll concede that you do make a relevant point. The Hobbits, as mediators, have a lifestyle which is recognizable to us. It’s not all living in trees and walking on top of snow and being stunningly beautiful and eternally young and all that jazz. It’s comfy homes and good food and honest work and the occasional nuisance relative or dimwit know-it-all down at the local pub to make sure things aren’t too perfect. And when somebody dies (or permanently moves on) there are a few affairs to be settled. But it’s an idealized version of the world we know – recognizable, but infinitely simpler and more rustic. This sort of setting has its own sense of wonder. It’s life as it ought to be.