Creek Running North

I think I love Becky.

Is she going to have a parade, too?  I see a lucrative new future in funerary services here.

While getting a snack for the kids one day, my husband once told me that he wants “100% apple juice when properly reconstituted” put on his gravestone.  If he doesn’t change that directive, in writing, that’s what he’s going to get.

Now that’s a dirge!  Throw in some can-can dancers in red petticoats and have a party!

I just can’t stop laughing at that.  Becky — mind if I appropriate your idea?

Do any of the New Orleans marching brass bands play Ta-Ra-Ra-Boom-De-Ay?  Sounds like a good one for the joyous return from the burial grounds.  I know Dirty Dozen plays The Flintstones with the Star Spangled Banner mixed in.  Anyway, I’m sure Becky is a Wobbly at heart, and means the version as adapted by Joe Hill in the Little Red Songbook:

“I had a job once threshing wheat, worked sixteen hours with hands

and feet.

And when the moon was shining bright, they kept me working all the

night.

One moonlight night, I hate to tell, I “accidentally’’ slipped and fell.

My pitchfork went right in between some cog wheels of that

thresh-machine.

Ta-ra-ra-boom-de-ay!

It made a noise that way.

And wheels and bolts and hay,

Went flying every way.

That stingy rube said, “Well!

A thousand gone to hell.’’

But I did sleep that night,

I needed it all right.

Next day that stingy rube did say, “I’ll bring my eggs to town today;

You grease my wagon up, you mutt, and don’t forget to screw the nut.’’

I greased his wagon all right, but I plumb forgot to screw the nut,

And when he started on that trip, the wheel slipped off and broke

his hip.

Ta-ra-ra-boom-de-ay!

It made a noise that way,

That rube was sure a sight,

And mad enough to fight;

His whiskers and his legs

Were full of scrambled eggs;

I told him, “That’s too bad —

I’m feeling very sad.’’

And then that farmer said, “You turk! I bet you are an I-Won’t Work.’’

He paid me off right there, By Gum! So I went home and told my chum.

Next day when threshing did commence, my chum was Johnny on the fence;

And ‘pon my word, that awkward kid, he dropped his pitchfork, like I

did.

Ta-ra-ra-boom-de-ay!

It made a noise that way,

And part of that machine

Hit Reuben on the bean.

He cried, “Oh me, oh my;

I nearly lost my eye.’’

My partner said, “You’re right —

It’s bedtime now, good night.’’

But still that rube was pretty wise, these things did open up his eyes.

He said, “There must be something wrong; I think I work my men too

long.’’

He cut the hours and raised the pay, gave ham and eggs for every day,

Now gets his men from union hall, and has no “accidents” at all.

Ta-ra-ra-boom-de-ay!

That rube is feeling gay;

He learned his lesson quick,

Just through a simple trick.

For fixing rotten jobs

And fixing greedy slobs,

This is the only way,

Ta-ra-ra-boom-de-ay!”

Interesting version, but, with Becky being a teacher and all, I was thinking she meant this one:

Ta-ra-ra-boom-de-ay

We had no school today

Our teacher passed away

She died of tooth decay

We threw her in the bay

She scared the fish away

And when we pulled her out

She smelled like sauerkraut!

I heard Jackson Browne’s “For a Dancer” the morning after I learned some friends had been murdered.  I thought I’d like someone to play that if it had been me.  Its sad he’s had occasion to write more than one of those songs.  Of course, in high school I wanted “Dust in the Wind” played.  How corny when I look at that now!  Of course in this phase, I would want Sting’s “Fragile” (the original, not the remix!)For someone who hasn’t really worried about dying, I’ve have a lot of ideas on this over my life.  Maybe when I’m 80 I’ll want Jesu Joy of Man’s Desiring like my mom did.  Stick it in the file with the will.  You could even make a mix CD to put in there.  Every year aor so I’d probably want to update mine.