Song of the Week: The Motorcycle Song

At lunch today, Bede brought out the jar of kosher dill pickles, and asked, "Who wants a pickle?"

Lucia and I started singing, "I don't want a pickle-- I just want to ride on my motor-sickle."

"Fine," Bede said. "I'll eat them all myself."

Lucia and I hastily reconsidered and decided we did want pickles after all.

You will find lyrics and chords to Arlo Guthrie's "The Motorcycle Song" (a.ka. The Pickle Song) here.

You may watch and listen to Arlo Guthrie singing the song and explaining the origins of the song with his distinctive storytelling style:



Also, don't miss Randy Kaplan's interpretation of the song on his album Five Cent Piece. In Kaplan's version, he's just trying to comfort his sister on a rainy day, but guess what-- she doesn't want a pickle, or a tickle, for that matter.

Those of you who check in regularly (and I appreciate you very much!) have noticed a bit of a lull lately on the blog. That's just the way it goes sometimes. I had a good gig today, and plan to do some research for more stories and songs in the upcoming months. October and November will be busy with the Pierce County Library gigs. Lucia starts school the week after Labor Day. On September 13, we're going to see Elizabeth Mitchell in concert (Finally! Hurrah!), and the weekend of September 27 is the Second Annual Kidlitosphere Conference in Portland, Oregon.

Sarah Beth Durst's Obscure Fairy Tales

Filed under "Things I Wish I Had Thought of Myself," here is author Sarah Beth Durst's collection of Obscure Fairy Tales, complete with commentary. For all the times you wondered, "What part of 'my brothers were turned into swans by a woman in a gown and crown with a majestic bearing and an evil disposition' did not arouse suspicion? (The Seven Swans) or, in the case of Molly Whuppie, "What sort of engineer makes a bridge of one hair? And how is she able to cross it? And why doesn't the giant petition the town to have a sturdier bridge built? It can't be good for trade." You'll find commentary on some of the not-so-obscure tales: Red Riding Hood, Snow White and Sleeping Beauty all get their due as well.

My Sunday Kicks

Head on over to Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast to read everyone's weekly kicks as they roll in. Here are mine, written on Saturday night:

1) Thursday, we attended a wedding on the beach of the Golden Gardens, and then partook of a potluck dinner afterward. Years before I met Bede, I thought that if I ever got married, the Mennonite in me thought a potluck for the reception was a grand idea. Bede and I didn’t go that route, but I still think it’s a good way to go.

2) Friday, the House of Glee met up with Eric Herman and family for dinner, and then headed to Magnuson Park for a Recess Monkey concert. The three girls got to play with each other and I enjoyed watching them holding hands while they jumped up and down in the Recess Monkey mosh-pit. I’d love to see an Eric Herman/Recess Monkey double-billing show someday, or have even more local children’s musicians get together for an all-day festival. I didn't bring my camera, so if Eric posts photos, I'll add the link later. Update: here is the link.

3) At the recommendation of Eric Herman and other friends, I finally checked out the Arlo Guthrie-esque Randy Kaplan’s children’s music albums, “Five Cent Piece” and “Loquat Rooftop.” They’re new hits in our household. Lucia’s favorite song is “Shampoo Me,” a story-song about a shark that pops up in the bathtub and wants to get clean. My favorite lyrics:

I said, “Why can’t you shampoo yourself?"
He said, “I got no fingers, only fins
They’re second stringers…”

You can listen to “Shampoo Me” and other songs on the Randy Kaplan “junior” MySpace Page.

4) I’ve finally started my voice lessons. Right now, my homework is a series of stretching and vocal exercises plus steaming my respiratory system (towel over the head with the face above a steaming bowl of water) twice a day. I’m working up to the twice a day part, but I’m starting to notice a difference in my immunities at least. Knock on wood, I’ve not had a sore throat in weeks.

5) My sewing project, a two piece dress with a pattern I ended up creating and modifying, worked out rather well. The last dress I sewed ended up being a tent with princess seams. I'm wearing the dress in the above picture.

6) I’m not sure if this is a kick or not, but I’ve agreed to be a co-class parent this year for my daughter’s kindergarten. It’s a job that can seem like herding cats at times, but I’m hoping that I can implement my new motto, “As painless as possible,” for the tasks ahead.


Mary Poppins umbrella (the one that belonged to P.L. Travers) and other memorabilia on display at the Donnell Library Central Children's Room in 2006


7) I’m reading aloud Mary Poppins by P.L. Travers to my daughter, and we are both enjoying it very much. I read the books years ago (with the original version of the infamous “Bad Tuesday” chapter, later rewritten by Travers herself). I showed Lucia the movie this summer, and while certain aspects of the film are firmly rooted in her brain, she has gone on in her imaginative play to incorporate the baby twins, John and Barbara, and adventures that didn’t make it into the film. Lucia is fascinated by how Mary Poppins always sniffs with disapproval. We just read aloud one of my favorite chapters, “John and Barbara’s Story,” where the twins can’t comprehend why grownups don’t seem to understand the speech of the sun, wind, and birds or the twins themselves. When they find out that everyone starts out understanding but soon forgets after their teeth come in, the twins are determined that they won’t. Of course, there is one grownup who has never forgotten....

Checking In: Storytime Gigs and What-Not

Friends, please know that while I have a big backlog of posts and books to read, I am at least reading your most recent posts on my RSS reader. My posts here as of late have not had a lot of juice to them, and I'm really just posting placeholder pieces so you know I've not dropped away from blogging.

Today, I had two gigs at a day-camp that functions as a preschool during the year. They went well, although I'll tell you, those 4 and 5 year olds really made me earn my pay today. I think I did fairly well considering that they were so wild and woolly I knew inviting them to stand up and dance was not going to happen. Here was my first clue that I would have to work my crowd-control skills to their limits: I told them that "Fooba Wooba John" was a funny song, and began to play it. They laughed, but not in a "ho ho, that's amusing" kind of way. No, it was the "BWA HA HA THIS IS THE FUNNIEST THING I'VE EVER HEARD AND I'M GOING TO DROWN YOU OUT" kind of laughter. The teacher tried to shush them, but to no avail. I stopped the song, said,"Friends, I know I'm a little bit funny, but I'm not that funny," and then continued after they'd settled down slightly. Soon after, they started to say "Ewwww!" in loud voices every time I took a sip from my water-bottle, until I said, "It's just water." I was curious as to what was going through their minds, but I knew better than to ask.

In a reversal of my usual storytime experience, the group was restless and wiggly during the songs, but (relatively) quiet and attentive during the stories. Joseph the Tailor and Phyllis Gershator's Zzzng! Zzzng! Zzzng! went over particularly well. When it came time to do "Jenny Jenkins," I simply picked the dress colors out of the bag while they yelled the colors because I knew that there would be chaos if I invited them to choose the colors themselves.

The 2 and 3 year old group was mellow and laid-back. They got to pick the dress colors out of the bag and stand up to dance to "There Ain't No Bugs On Me" (with the instructions to jump up and down, not side to side). One-third of the way through the program, a little girl asked, "Are you going to drink coffee now?" One of the teachers explained that the kids were used to the teachers drinking coffee throughout the day. Afterward, when I invited questions and comments, I heard from half the class about how much they loved to go swimming. I get that. It's part of the oral tradition. Even though there were no stories or songs about swimming, one child told about her swimming experience, which reminded another child of his swimming experience, and so on. It's the same way with jokes and dreams.

In other news, Bede is back from his five-day trip to Indianapolis, Indiana, where he took part in GenCon. and revealed his game, How to Host a Dungeon. This website is still in progress, and you can't see the nifty little graphics that Bede drew for the game. Here's one:

Dreaming of prehistoric-themed confections

Last week, my daughter woke me up out of a deep sleep and asked, "Mommy, what song were you singing in my dream?" When I protested that I was asleep and had no idea what I was singing in her dream, she chimed, "Don't be grouchy!"

Lately, my daughter has been telling me her dreams, and then asking me what I've dreamed. There is no way that I am going to burden her with the deluge of images and themes that go through my sleeping mind, so I'll tell her only the vaguest snippets of what I remember. "I dreamed I was in high school," I've told her, and "I dreamed I was planting bulbs outside a house that wasn't our house." Once, when I was still just waking up and was willing to say anything in the hopes that I could go back to sleep, I told her that I dreamed we had gone to our favorite restaurant and I ordered an Ammonite creampuff. Despite all that I did to try to convince her that (as far as I knew) no such confection existed outside of my dream, guess who tried to order a prehistoric themed bakery-item the next time we went out to dinner.

Song of the Week: Paquet d’Épingles (i.e. "Packet of Pins" or "Paper of Pins")

I know two basic versions of the folksong "Paper of Pins": the one with the happy ending where the person to whom the singer repeatedly proposes says in essence, "Don't offer me material possessions, offer me your love and affection," and the sad version where the singer laments, "And now I see money is all, and woman's love is nothing at all," when the object of the singer's affection says, "Oh, yes, I'll accept the key to your chest, That I may have gold at my request." Of course, the woman may have planned all along to cool the singer's ardor, for she sings at the end, "I'm determined to be an old maid, take my stool and live in the shade, and marry no one at all, and marry no one at all."

Fair enough.

However, I'm a fan of the happier version, and even more so of the version in Cajun French called "Paquet d'Épingles," sung by Michael Doucet with family and friends on the album Le Hoogie Boogie: Louisiana French Music For Children. The tune is different too. You can listen to a a music sample of Paquet d'Épingles vis the link. But don't stop there! I like most of the songs on the album, including the title track which is a French version of "The Hokey Pokey"-- and for me, that's saying something. (I revised my opinion of the song after a colleague of mine let me off the hook for, "You put your back side in." I simply refuse to do it. I acknowledge that I am a stick in the mud. I don't wiggle my waggles away either!)

For those of you who want to try playing and singing "Paquet d'Épingles" on the guitar, the good news is that you only have two chords to manage, thereby freeing up your brain to remember all of the lyrics in French. Bon chance! I'm sharing the French lyrics with chords plus the English translation. I've added little pictures next to the verses to help you keep your place:


Click on the graphic in order to enlarge it

Here is the English translation:

If you will marry me, I’ll give you a packet of pins,
I’ll give you a packet of pins if you will marry me
No, I will not marry you, no I will not marry you.

If you will marry me, I’ll give you a little white cat,
I’ll give you a little white cat to go walking with you.
No, I will not etc.

If you will marry me, I’ll give you a beautiful house,
I’ll give you beautiful house all lined in white satin.
No, I will not etc.

If you will marry me, I’ll give you a wedding dress,
I’ll give you a wedding dress all sewn with silver thread.
No, I will not etc.

If you will marry me, I’ll give you the keys to my coffers,
I’ll give you the keys to my coffers and all my gold and all my silver.
No, I will not etc.

If you will marry me, I’ll give you the keys to my heart,
I’ll give you the keys to my heart, and all my soul and all my love,
I’ll gladly marry you, I’ll gladly marry you.

If that’s the way your love begins, I accept your packet of pins,
I accept your packet of pins, if that’s the way your love begins,
I’ll gladly marry you, etc.

If that’s the way your love begins, I accept your little white cat,
I accept your little white cat to go walking with me.
I’ll gladly marry you, etc.

If that’s the way your love begins, I accept your beautiful house,
I accept your beautiful house all lined in white satin.
I’ll gladly marry you, etc.

If that’s the way your love begins, I accept your wedding dress,
I accept your wedding dress all hemmed in silver thread.
I’ll gladly marry you, etc.
If that’s the way your love begins, I accept the keys to your coffers,
I accept the keys to your coffers and all your gold and all your silver.
I’ll gladly marry you, etc.

If that’s the way your love begins, I accept the keys to your heart,
I accept the keys to your heart and all your soul and all your love.
I’ll gladly marry you, etc.

Further afield

At long last, I have ordered a GPS unit. For me, finding my way to a new venue is the single most challenging part of my storytelling profession. I got spoiled while living in New York. Manhattan was on a grid mostly), and if I got turned around when emerging from the subway, there were always tall landmarks to help me get reoriented.

In Seattle, my sense of direction is decent. However, once I start driving toward the new developments where there are identical beige houses as far as the eye can see, my internal gyroscope goes wonky. It's worse at night-- I have finally started to see the effects of age, and need light in order to read those already tiny street signs, and all my carefully plotted directions don't do me any good if I have to pull over to the side of the road every ten minutes. I'll let you know how it goes, but I predict that having the GPS will inspire confidence to go further afield for my gigs.

Eric Herman's Cool Bug Tunes for Kids

The House of Glee attended Eric Herman's Cool Bug Tunes for Kids concert as part of King County Library System's summer reading program, "Catch the Reading Bug!" Bede took photos for Eric, and I got to judge the dance contest for the compact disc giveaway. Afterward, we had dinner at the food court and caught up on music, gaming and storytelling gab. Here's a photo:



And here's a video I put together and then ran by Eric before posting on YouTube:



One of the songs that's not in the video because it ha yet been released is the funny, catchy "Stink Bug" ditty, due to be released on Eric's next album. Ever since the concert, Lucia has been singing the chorus. Once you hear it, you will too. "Stink Bug" is definitely an earworm.

Loss and Life in Books and Beyond

This day has come around again. Thanks to Elaine Magliaro for introducing me to Sherman Alexie's Grief Calls Us to the Things Of This World, for that is the poem that comes to mind today on this breezy sunny day in Seattle.

For the past three days, I have been reading aloud E. B. White's Charlotte's Web to Lucia. Thanks to both my husband and Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast for alerting me to this NPR piece about the book. I thought of E. B. White having to do seventeen takes when reading the sad parts for the audio recording after Lucia said, "Stop talking in that funny voice!" as I cried during the key moments. The final paragraphs are what always get me: the paen to friendship and good writing is as fine an epitaph as any I've ever read.

Finally, I remember when Lucia's first tooth came in. Now, that tooth has popped out, and Lucia is a big girl now, just like Peter Sis' Madlenka. "How wise I am!" Lucia exclaimed yesterday. Here she is, displaying her sagacity:


Not too long ago, Yorkshire Pudding introduced me to Miranda the Fairy, who used to leave his children little notes. Miranda the Fairy has a new job in the dental department of fairyland She left Lucia a little note with two books by Elsa Beskow in minature: Pelle's New Suit and Peter in Blueberry Land. I suspect that future tooth presents will be more modest.

Oregon Shadow Theatre presents "Thumbelina"

"Flower Child Number Nine"

On Tuesday, I took Lucia and my mother to see Oregon Shadow Theatre perform their sixties musical shadow puppet production of Thumbelina at one of our library branches. Mick Doherty was the musician and DJ named "Hans" who provided narration and voices while Deb Chase worked the puppets and also provided voices for Hans Christian Andersen's tale of a tiny "flower child" and her travels through the world. Bugs sang "Food Chain" to the tune of "Chain Gang," Buford the frog sang, "I ain't nothin' but a bull-frog..." and during an insect beauty pageant, a caterpillar sang, "These boots, boots, boots, boots, boots, boots, boots are made for walkin'." The dialogue abounded with coy references to sixties songs, too. The mole in the story is named Darkness just so that the mouse (named Strawberry Fields) can say, "Hello, Darkness, my old friend." I'll admit it: the humor was right up my alley.


Thumbelina with the Sun King

Lucia thoroughly enjoyed the show, and was riveted from beginning to end. When she said she wanted to sit up in front with the other children, I was a little concerned that she would try to interrupt the program with her incessant questions, but those worries were unfounded. I had waited for years to take her to an Oregon Shadow Theatre program, as the program is geared for children ages four and up. Since the Oregon Shadow Theatre usually performs in a darkened room (which wasn't an option here), the age guidelines are particularly important. However, there were plenty of children under four, plus quite a few babies. The babies cried, the toddlers fussed, and I mentally gave gold stars to Doherty and Chase for plowing through all the distractions to give a stellar performance.

If you have a chance to see Oregon Shadow Theare in the future, do so! I got to see Pecos Bill as a children's librarian before I had a baby, and always intended to take my husband to subsequent productions. Now that Lucia has reached the age where a wider variety of performances are appropriate for her, we're going to be attending many more shows.

Wordle

Here is my Wordle from July 2008 posts:



Thanks to LoneStarMa for the link.

Breaking Down: the young adult book that never was

After reading Stephenie Meyer's Breaking Dawn, I wrote this little story to dedicate to TadMack. Fear not, Twilight fans, for there are no spoilers here. In a way, it qualifies as an entry of Children's Books That Never Were, except I'm pretty sure it never crossed Garrulous MacKenzie's desk....


BREAKING DOWN

Bella: Edward, I have something to tell you.

Edward: I’m glad to hear that, because I can’t read your mind.*

Bella: I’m so in love with you—

Edward: Me too! I love you more—

Bella: No, I love you more—

Edward: No, I love you more--

Bella: Stop! That’s not the point.

Edward: What is the point?

Bella: It hurts to say this, but I really need to go on to study some sort of higher education. I don’t think college is my calling, but I’ve got to find some sort of viable life skill. Based upon how long I cooked meals for my dad, I’m going to culinary school. I'm already working on a killer tiramisu for my entry exam, and I know with all my being that my cannoli is to die for. It's perfect!

Edward: (gloomily) You have no idea how much I miss cannoli. I used to be addicted to cannoli.

Bella: Speaking of addiction…I don’t think our relationship is healthy.

Edward: Of course our relationship is not healthy. You’re a human, and I’m a vampire, albeit a vegetarian one.

Bella: Um, blood comes from animal flesh. Technically, you’re not a vegetarian. I do appreciate you abstaining from humans, though.

Edward: Ohhhhh, human cannoli.

Bella: That’s it. I don’t care that I spent months practically comatose when you left Forks to “protect” me after I got that paper-cut and your family nearly lost it.** This relationship is over like Grover.

Edward: Grover? I don’t get it.

Bella: (sighing) It’s a Sesame Street reference. That furry pretender Elmo sabotaged the rightful star Grover’s spotlight and just ran with the merchandising. Anyway, we’re done.

Edward: So, you’re going to choose that werewolf Jacob over me?

Bella: No, I’m going to pursue a career as a chef. A vegetarian chef. And then, after I get my own cooking show, I’m going to write a novel about a human girl who falls in love with a vampire and somehow gets over it. The vampire will be a metaphor for how obsessive love can just suck everything out of you.

Edward: It will never sell.

*Edward can read everyone's mind except for Bella's.
**This is kind of what happened to Marianne in Jane Austen's Sense and Sensibility, only without papercuts or vampires.

Sunday Garden Stroll: Sunflower edition

The sunflowers are blooming, and as a result, today's Sunday Garden Stroll is dedicated to Girasole. My sunflower patch is filled with a variety of sunflowers, though certain quirky ones never popped up. There are a few Stella Golds, Jokers (the ones with stripes on the leaves), Moonshadows (lemon-yellow) and so far, only one Chocolate Cherry bloom. Here is my daughter, standing among the leeks and carrots in front of the sunflower patch:



Here is the singular Chocolate Cherry blossom among the other flowers:



And finally, here is the closeup of the Chocolate Cherry sunflower, appropriately-sized for wallpaper:



A Wrung Sponge has the Sunday Garden Stroll roundup. Cloudscome snaps gorgeous photos, and I've tried to absorb her photography tips.

You may wonder how my garden posts relate to the scope of this song and story blog. I'm still trying to figure that one out. Please let me know if you come up with a viable answer first.

Jack Be Nimble: Theme and Variation in American Lit

In my junior year at Goshen College, a small, liberal arts Mennonite school, I took an American Literature Survey course. Our big project for the end of the semester was a term paper (I wrote mine on E.E. Cummings), a timeline, a few other things I can't remember but which seemed important at the time, and a creative piece. In the class, there was a quiet guy who had transfered to my college as a senior, although I didn't know it at the time. When it was time to share our creative projects, he pulled out a series of poems based on the nursery rhyme, "Jack Be Nimble" as if it had been written by different American authors and poets.

I thought it was funny. I thought it was brilliant. I wish I had written it myself. So did my classmates! When the English department newsletter printed it, I stuck it to my bulletin board. The following year, I found out that the American Literature professor had everyone in his class write parodies in a similar vein.

Years later, I looked for the Jack Be Nimble project among my papers, but couldn't find it. I wanted to share it with other people, but I couldn't remember more than the gist of the Walt Whitman section followed by Emily Dickinson and Gwendolyn Brooks. I couldn't even remember the name of the guy who wrote it-- all that I knew was that he had shown up one year, and was gone the next.

Then, K.Jay of Amish Guitar wrote to me after finding the chords to a Mennonite hymn I had posted, and pointed out that we were English majors together for a brief time. I didn't really remember him, but we had enough in common that we struck up an online friendship. Earlier this week, after discussing poetry, K.Jay wrote, "As a treat I pulled out a old assignment from American Lit. I hope you find amusement in it."

It was the Jack project! Suddenly, I remembered K.Jay perfectly, and told him how much we all enjoyed his poems. K.Jay gave me permission to publish them here for Poetry Friday:

The Mother Goose rhyme:

Jack be nimble.
Jack be quick.
Jack jump over the candlestick.

* * *

Walt Whitman

Jack and Jane, Bill and Sarah
Mike, Lisa, Fred and Barney.
All of us
and me
and you.
We are nimble, quick, and agile.
Lively, spry, deft and dexterous.
For the impulsion to lift ourselves over the candlestick.
We can. We can do it.
The challenge is ours.

Emily Dickinson

Jack.
Stick.
Jump.

Gwendolyn Brooks

That Jack. He
Be nimble. He
Be quick. He
Jump stick. He
Fall down. He
Hit ground.

e. e. cummings

@jack is jump
nimble, bimble, up, down.
all over town%(>>
candlestick over jump he
nimble, bimble, up, *down.

J. D. Salinger

Well, you know, Jack. I mean, Jack, He is quick and all. I mean quick and nimble and all. God. I mean he jumps over candlesticks and everything. That is, a candlestick. I mean Jack could, if he wanted to, jump over the candlestick and all. God.

Edward Albee

THE STORY OF JACK AND THE CANDLESTICK
I looked at the candlestick and I think it looked back at me if you know what I mean. At first I tried to be nimble. But soon I found that I also had to be quick. But then I took another look at the candlestick as it dared me to jump over it. I jumped over it. And then the candlestick and I became friends.

* * *

©K.Jay 1993, 2008

By the way, there is an unofficial saying among the Mennonites, based on a potato-chip commerical: "Mennonites. You can't meet just one." Although there may be only one and a half million Mennonites in the whole world, chances are that if you (1) are Mennonite (2) meet another Mennonite, you will find out that (a) you are cousins (b) someone in his or her family dated and/or is married to someone in your family. As far as we know, K.Jay and I are not cousins, but one of his wife's ancestors broke his engagement to one of my ancestors! (We don't harbor any hard feelings about the matter.)

This week's Poetry Friday Round-up is at The Well-Read Child.