Category Archives: Songs

Over the River

Today’s guest post is by Clyde.

When we were raising our children, we lived in Two Harbors and my parents lived above the east end of Duluth, only about two miles from Hawk Ridge. Among the four ways we could drive to their house, our favorite was to take the Seven Bridges Road.

Here is YouTube of a song about the Seven Bridges Road:

In winter the Seven Bridges Road was plowed only part way up the hill. Thus for our traditional Thanksgiving Day drive to my parents house we would always take the Seven Bridges Road, assuming that it would ere long be closed. And a family tradition was born to sing as we passed over each of the seven bridges “Over the river and through the woods to Grandmother’s house we go.” As our children matured, one would always ask, “What’s another popular Thanksgiving song?” A question which still lacks an answer.

Why is that? Why are there not many popular songs for this second most American of holidays? Everything seems right for songs: the season, the purpose, the mood, the many items associated with the day. But no songs have arisen.

Also, serious writers of serious music, i.e. classical, often embody popular songs, i.e. un-serious songs, in their serious music. Have I missed it, or has no one used Lydia Maria Child’s “Over the River and through the Woods” in this way?

Another mystery: Her poem which provides the words to the song was called “A Boy’s Thanksgiving Day.” Why is her poem of her childhood memories called “A Boy’s Thanksgiving Day”?

Here are her words:

Over the river, and through the wood,
To Grandfather’s house we go;
The horse knows the way to carry the sleigh
through the white and drifted snow.

Over the river, and through the wood—
Oh, how the wind does blow!
It stings the toes and bites the nose
As over the ground we go.

Over the river, and through the wood,
To have a first-rate play.
Hear the bells ring, “Ting-a-ling-ding”,
Hurrah for Thanksgiving Day!

Over the river, and through the wood
Trot fast, my dapple-gray!
Spring over the ground like a hunting-hound,
For this is Thanksgiving Day.

Over the river, and through the wood—
And straight through the barnyard gate,
We seem to go extremely slow,
It is so hard to wait!

Over the river, and through the wood—
Now Grandmother’s cap I spy!
Hurrah for the fun! Is the pudding done?
Hurrah for the pumpkin pie!

Why the dearth of Thanksgiving songs?
Go ahead. Write one.

In Dublin’s Fair City

… Where girls are so pretty,
I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone!

So goes a famous old Irish song, done here on You Tube by The Dubliners.

I thought of this song when I read yesterday that the spread of Zebra Mussels across Lake Minnetonka appears to be steady and unstoppable. Infestation is probably inevitable, though there have been efforts to slow the advance of this invasive species by encouraging boat owners to drain, clean and dry their boats before moving from affected waters to clean ones.

Ah, well.

At least when Minnetonka’s docks and shores are completely encrusted with sharp shells, we can sing to our new overlords about their relentless advance.

I love to go boating,
A-drifting and floating,
On summertime days in the suburbs out west.
The lakes get quite rowdy.
They’re frothy and crowdy.
With Zebra Striped Mussels, Alive, Alive-O!

Alive, Alive-O! Alive, Alive-O!
They’ve got Zebra Striped Mussels, Alive, Alive-O!

On Lake Minnetonka,
They drop so much stray junk ya
can’t even see water beneath the debris.
The piles are fantastic
They’re discarded plastic
And Zebra Striped Mussels, Alive, Alive-O!

Alive, alive-O! Alive, Alive-O!
They’ve got Zebra Striped Mussels, Alive, Alive-O!

So thanks to the sportsmen,
The starboard-and-portsmen,
Who go lake-to-lake with their vessels un-drained.
They’re spreading and trading,
Wholesale propagating
Those Zebra Striped Mussels, Alive, Alive-O!

Alive, alive-O! Alive, Alive-O!
They’ve got Zebra Striped Mussels, Alive, Alive-O!

Do you pick up hitchhikers?

Welcome to Slippery Slope, Mr. AutoPresident!

There has been some tooth gnashing over President Obama’s authorization of the signing of the Patriot Act extension with an autopen. This machine long ago took the place of the chief executive’s hand in dealing with routine correspondence, but apparently this is the first time a mechanical device has been used to turn a bill into a law.

A legal opinion written by lawyers with the Bush (2) administration was used to justify the move.

Even so, Obama will be criticized, but that’s not the greatest risk. The greatest risk, as anyone who has worked in a factory knows, is allowing a machine to get a metal and plastic toe in the door when it comes to doing an essential part of your job. History tells us where that leads – sometime in the future our President (whoever it may be) and the autopen are bound to have their John Henry Moment.

When John Henry got into the White House
Famous ‘cause he worked so hard,
He arrived with much renown, he had people all ‘round.
He was popular and held in high regard, Lord Lord.
Popular and held in high regard.

When John Henry reached the Oval Office
Surrounded by women and men
He said, “Now I’m feelin’ fine, I got papers here to sign”
They said, “All of that is done by auto pen” Lord Lord,
“We don’t need you with the auto pen.”

John Henry said to his people
“While it’s true my arms are sore,
I won’t let them wires and wheels fix my presidential seals,
Bring us bills and I will sign them all and more, Lord Lord.
Bills to sign and more and more and more.

So John Henry signed with his left hand
Autopen signed with the right
Though it didn’t have no arm or no presidential charm,
It signed every bill that he did through the night, Lord Lord
Both of them signed bills all through the night.

When they found them there in the morning,
It was dark and cold and damp.
Just a gizmo and a bloke, blood and oil and sweat and smoke.
One was broken and one died of writer’s cramp, Lord Lord.
What a way to go, from writer’s cramp.

The moral to this story
Is to do all you can do.
But there ain’t a man alive who can challenge and survive
when machines arrive to take the place of you, Lord Lord.
When machines arrive to sign then you are through!

The John Henry song sure comes in handy at a time like this. I love to re-write it – some of you may recall I’ve done it before. But why not take advantage of every opportunity while I can? Because it’s a repetitive activity, I’m sure someday there will be an app to do it for me.

What arts and crafts project could you do over and over and over without tiring of it?

Song and Dance

It could very well turn out this Friday that the never ending struggle for control in Washington will express itself in a federal government shutdown of uncertain duration.

The key factor in any political battle like this is, of course, who gets blamed for it.

This is the same old song and dance, so naturally it made me think of an old song and dance from the Broadway musical of the mid ’60’s that starred Angela Lansbury for so many years – Mame!

Yes, it’s an extremely dated reference that would be lost on anyone under the age of 50, but here’s a special ironic bonus – the original book, play and musical had a strong depression era theme of resilience in the face of financial catastrophe!

Video of the signature song as performed by Ms. Lansbury isn’t available on You Tube, but here’s a case where a fan valiantly tried to match the official soundtrack with some jumpy images of the show.

I hope there’s enough there to remind you of Jerry Herman’s catchy tune so you can sing along with new lyrics for the 112th Congress, as all its members attempt to leave people on the other side of the aisle holding the bag.

You caused the government to shut down. Blame!
The major industry in this town. Blame!
Our Medicare’s suspended,
And Medicaid is out of money too!
There’s nothing in our pockets
except a governmental IOU.

There’s just one thing we have to assign. Blame!
It must be yours ‘cause it can’t be mine. Blame!
There’s no recourse and nothing to
do except connect this to a name.
We’re handing you the title, gents.
Making this yours is vital, gents.
You’ve taken our entitlements! Blame!

You’ve cut things far too close to the bone. Blame!
You’ve spent too much. It’s time to atone. Blame!
Our brilliant plan will fix it
Unless you thwart us like you always do.
We can’t be held responsible
‘long as we can pin this mess on you!

There’s nothing left that we can discuss. Blame!
Let’s point our fingers, sputter and cuss. Blame!
We’ve shaped a simple narrative
Making you the villain in this game.
Consider yourself battled with …
Our hearts and brains are addled with …
We’ll see that you get saddled with … Blame!

Is it ever polite to point?

Bubby Fakes a Stand

Today’s entry comes from our perennial sophomore at Wendell Wilkie High School, the one and only Bubby Spamden.

Hey Mr. C.,

I’m wondering if we can get some labor unrest stirred up here in Minnesota just like they have it in Wisconsin. I’d really like my teachers to go AWOL for a few protest days at the state capitol.

What a great deal for those students next door – they’ve already had two days off with the promise of more to come! PLUS, after a day of playing video games in your PJ’s you can turn on the TV news to see your English teacher freezing on the steps of a state office building, waving a hand lettered sign and screaming for the Governor’s head. I’ll bet when that teacher gets back to the classroom she’ll be too hoarse to do anything but have hours and hours of quiet reading time – which is my favorite kind of in-class assignment. I love opening a big, soft book and then putting my head right down on it so the words can soak into my brain.

And speaking of going AWOL, how about those Wisconsin democrats who got to go on a road trip to Illinois? They’re hiding in a hotel somewhere, but nobody knows which one. And now Wisconsin’s State Troopers are looking for them! If I were on the lam in northern Illinois, I’d pick a hotel with a water park and hot waffle machines in the breakfast bar. I had no idea being a member of the state legislature was so cool! I thought it was just boring meetings all day long – kind of like going to class, but with voting.

What a great learning experience. I demand equal treatment with the students in Wisconsin! Please, make it happen here!

In our Life Choices class on Friday, I told Mr. Boozenporn that I would have really, really respected him more if he had gone to Wisconsin to show solidarity with the public employees there. It looked like he was actually considering it for a moment, but then he switched the lesson plan and spent the whole hour talking about labor history and he made us watch videos of Pete Seeger! And he says he’ll bring in his Weavers records on Tuesday!

Not what I had in mind.

Your friend,
Bubby

I told Bubby I was impressed that he was following the news so closely, but distressed to discover that he only sees these monumental policy struggles as another possible way to skip a few days of school. I like Mr. Boozenporn’s approach. Subjecting helpless high school students to skinny banjo players doing pro-union songs is more subversive and possibly more effective than marching on the capitol.

I have it on good authority that these are two of the You Tube videos Mr. Boozenporn showed yesterday.

What’s your favorite song about work?

A Spot of Sun

I haven’t heard any complaints about warmer temperatures over the past week, as the sun shows its power and begins to melt our winter’s snow (to make room for our spring snow).

Now comes word that the sun is also spitting out increased amounts of charged electromagnetic particles (a Coronal Mass Ejection) in keeping with a predicted rise in turbulent solar weather that is expected to peak in 2012.

Over time, this could cause some disruption in our systems. Communications failures are possible. Navigation might be affected. There may even be power outages.

Great. Now we have to think about solar weather on top of our existing obsession over the more immediate and understandable local weather. Eventually there will be songs.

Oh the weather up there is spotty
Yeah, the Sun is one hot toddy.
And your eyes will melt if you stare.
Let it flare, let it flare, let it flare!

Oh the scientists are detecting
some Coronal Mass Ejecting.
Let’s put on our lead-lined underwear,
Let it flare, let it flare, let it flare!

When it finally settles down
2013 or 14 or so,
If enough of us are around,
we can re-fixate on snow!

Oh it doesn’t show signs of slowing.
Should the northern sky be glowing?
With charged particles in our hair!
Let it flare, let it flare, let it flare!

This is just a start, of course. Can you picture Gene Kelley dancing to “Singing in the Flame”?

And for those who enjoy a good informational science song, they don’t get any better than this one from They Might Be Giants.

The sun is our friend. A really, really volatile and intense friend who will burn you if you’re not careful.

How do you manage your exposure to the sun?

Hum For Your Health

Some recent studies have indicated humming could be a technique to combat chronic sinusitis.

What’s the connection? Researchers found that humming apparently increases the flow of air in the sinuses. This was deduced in one study by measuring the amount of nitric oxide in air exhaled by people who had been humming. Nitric oxide is produced in the sinus cavities (who knew?) and a sharp increase in the amount coming out of those hummer noses led to the conclusion that the sinuses were getting extra ventilation when subjects engaged in some closed-lip karaoke.

What the studies DIDN’T report – the nature of the tunes being hummed. Can you force enough air into your sinuses with classical, or would the blues do a more effective job? How about heavy metal? Can you hum that?

Personally, I would go for the ventilating power of a big Broadway number like the title tune from Oklahoma. Although you’d only be humming it, you could imagine these rhino-centric words as a form of self-medicating parody.

Aunt Eller:
There’s pressure in the cavities behind my nose.

Andrew:
My face is achin’. I cain’t get a grip.

Laurey:
Might be comin’ down with somethin’, I suppose.

Curley:
Probably a case of that postnasal drip.

Company:
Nasal drip!
Nasal drip! Gonna be a trip!
Gonna give you headaches. Headaches and secretions.
Just like Alexander
Gave to them Phoenicians.
Feelin’ like your skull is in a workbench vise,
Plenty of pressure. Ain’t so nice.
Plenty of coughing. I feels hot.
Plenty of pain and plenty of snot.

Sinusitis! Inflammation. Constant pressure. Pain!
Where the mucus flows out of my nose
And it soaks the ground like April rain!
Sinusitis! Decongestants? Go ahead and try!
Cause ya cain’t replace yer throbbin’ face.
It’s enough to make ya wanna cry.

We know this is all in our head
And it makes us all wish we wuz dead.
And when we say
Yeeow! Ayipioeeay!
We’re only sayin’
Leave me alone Sinusitius!
Sinusitis, go ‘way!

Do you like to sing or hum to yourself? Out loud?

Snow Shovelin’ Man

The people who showed up yesterday morning to shovel snow at the University of Minnesota’s TCF stadium were willing to do some physical labor in the great tradition of John Henry – a character out of folklore who generated a variety of songs about man’s unquenchable spirit in the face of a challenge from the steam drill.

Unfortunately, some of yesterday’s shovelers waited through the morning, and left in frustration before doing any actual work.

John Henry simply beat the steam drill with brute strength, and then he laid down his hammer and he died. Tough wages. But brute strength won’t help you overcome a mismatch between available workers and piles of snow in the absence of a plan that can quickly put them together. That’s a real heartbreaker.

When John Henry heard about the Vikings,
playin’ in the winter’s cold.
Well he picked up a shovel and his parka and a hat
Said Shovel’s gonna bring some Christmas gold, Lord, Lord.
Shovel’s gonna bring some Christmas gold.

The captain said to John Henry
You can wait over there in that line.
With your shovel and your parka and your hat, Lord Lord
You can wait ‘til it’s shovelin’ time.

John Henry said to the captain
I’m freezing and I’m ready to go
Before I’ll wait and stand and get frostbite on my hand,
I would die with my shovel in the snow

Now the captain said to John Henry
Just an hour more and maybe you’ll begin,
There’s a form you gotta sign and another friggin’ line
To endure before your shovel’s suckin’ wind, Lord Lord
To endure before your shovel’s suckin’ wind.

Now the planners that did those logistics
Meant to organize the snow removin’ troops
But so many came to town, when that sun was goin’ down
Poor John Henry hadn’t turned a single scoop

Now John Henry had dug snowy mountains.
From Duluth to Saskatoon and on to Nome
But he never dug that day where the Golden Gophers play.
He just waited ‘til they told him to go home, Lord Lord.
He waited ’til they told him to go home.

When have you been victorious against the machine?

The Big Break-Up

It appears some people in Congress who were faithful supporters of the administration will not go along with the tax compromise announced this week. I guess we need a break-up song for President Obama and factions inside the Democratic Party.

There are many, many break up songs. One of the most popular new ones is by Cee-Lo Green.

I see you drivin’ round town
with the girl I love and I’m like,
F— You. Ooo Ooo Ooo.

Catchy tune, and it has the cultural advantage of sounding like the kind of thing you actually hear real people saying on some street corners, in select coffee shops, on certain bus routes, at every local bar, and at the customer service counter in Wal-Mart. But for my money, “F— You” is missing something important – the wounded innocence that makes a break-up song great. And class. I do like the “Ooo Ooo Ooo” part, though.

Lesley Gore, backed up here by her Frantic Handkerchief Dancers, made this one a hit in the mid-60’s.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XsYJyVEUaC4

“It’s My Party” is one of those rare songs that starts with the chorus.

It’s my party, and I’ll cry if I want to
Cry if I want to, cry if I want to
You would cry too if it happened to you

It’s classic lyrical victimhood, and it will work for just about any break up situation or intra-party political dispute as long as you are willing to assume that it’s your birthday and you’ve been wronged in the most public way possible. Plus, it’s catchy, and that’s what most people remember.

The rest of the words … well, we can make them what we want. Right? For President Obama and the Democrats, we could do this:

I thought my guy would stay right by my side
You all know what we had.
But now he’s drifting away
Compromising like mad.

CHORUS

Taxing the rich was our favorite dream
We agreed. It was grand.
Now he’s slow dancing with them
On our line in the sand!

CHORUS

HANDKERCHIEF DANCE BREAK (with sobbing)

He’s says it’s just a bipartisan thing.
He won’t love them like me.
I hoped he never would change.
Oh what audacity!

What is your favorite music for when you’re feeling blue (at a red state party)?

October Song

There are great songs about September (September Song, See you in September) and June (June is Bustin’ Out All Over, June in January) and April (April in Paris, I’ll Remember April), but few about October. Yet October is a beautiful month! We start with some of the mildness of late summer and loads of crazy color, wade through the pleasant aerobic rustle of raking the yard, drink cider, eat apple pastries, go on hay rides, and finish with kids in wild costumes eating enough tiny candy bars to make themselves sick! And there’s always a chance we’ll get a snowstorm somewhere in the middle of it. What other month has that range?

There is a tune called “October Song” written by Robin Williamson and performed by the Incredible String Band. Incredibly, the word “October” appears only once in the lyrics, which are otherwise about briars and fallen leaves, the fickleness of time and murder. Cheery. But it pales in comparison to the song “October”, by a North Carolina band with the uplifting name “Collapsis”.

And I never thought we’d break this ground.
Fall down, hit the ground, don’t make a sound.
It’s been nothing more than a big cheep thrill.
Yeah yeah this is my October.
Let me die.

What’s the problem? I know everything is dying right now, but do we have to focus on that? Is the “Oct” in October too reminiscent of the slithery, scary octopus? Are there not enough October rhymes? Can’t anyone come up with a hopeful ditty about October?

Apparently not. I just tried to invent a happy-go-lucky lyric with October in the text and in the very first verse it took a detour into the miserable lonesome cowboy-in-recovery genre and Merle Haggard demanded that I let him drawl it out.

This year has been a monster
and I’ve spent it on a binge.
From New Year’s through September
I did stuff that makes me cringe.

But now the warmth is ending
And the leaves are blowing free.
So sober through October
Is how I intend to be.

Sober through October
Is the promise that I make
Sober through October
‘Cause it’s wrong to drink and rake.

The air turns crisp, and if I booze
While flowers fade to brown.
I’m worried I might vanish
Beneath leaves piled on the ground.

So Darlin’, if you’re listening,
Here’s what I’m tryin’ to say.
I’m tryin’ not to be the man
who filled your car with hay.

I hate the ways I hurt you.
‘Least the ways that I recall.
So sober through October
Is how I will start my Fall.

Sober through October
Is my mission to complete.
Sober through October
‘cause it’s sad to drink or treat.

I’m askin’ you to help me
As I fight my private wars.
I want you by the bonfire
Should I slip and beg for ‘smores.

Oh well.

What’s your favorite thing about October?