Archive for July, 2012

Tuesday, July 17th, 2012

Just Singing in the Rain

Sunday, July 8th, 2012

Just singing, singing
in the rain

Do you ever get a song hung in your mind? You know, it comes
into your head as you are busy with the chores of your day and you hum a few
lines of the song. Then it becomes a challenge to remember the words. It is
exciting to find you do remember the words. They have been waiting, buried
somewhere in the recesses of you mind. Songs like “Old Dan Tucker,” or “Yankee
Doodle Dandy,” just pop up without notice, and you sing them. Some of the songs
are the sophisticated little ditties like, “Three Blind Mice.”   Quite often,
it may be a Broadway melody like “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” or “On the Street
Where You Live” you remember. And you sing it…all day long. And you can’t stop
singing it. You have gotten the song hung on the barbs of you mind and there is
no getting it unhooked. It is a lovely song, and you enjoy it…but all day long?
You are bitten by the bug infecting you with “Clogged Cranium Disorder,” or as
the media would say, “CCD.”

A more advanced malady is the case where the bitten singer
can’t remember all the words. He sings a few lines then trails off into an
unintelligible jumble of words and notes. That is called, “CCDUJ.” Greg, our
son, remembers riding to work with me, and hearing me struggle with bits of
songs like: “Deep within my heart lies a melody…..,” and “Mares eat oats, bears
eat oats, little lambs eat ivy. I’d eat ivy too, wouldn’t you?…..” That must
have driven him up the wall of the pickup cab. It bothered me too.

Recently I have a little song that has lodged in my mind. It
refuses to move. All day long, the thing just grins and keeps me singing, and
singing. I know all the words, and a close feel for the tune, but I can’t seem
to dislodge it. The song is “Blue Tailed Fly.” I think Burl Ives made it popular
when I was a youngster. The working men sang this old traditional song in the
fields and workshops of early America. Thank goodness I don’t have the advanced
symptoms of CCD, for I know all the words. And I am going to share them with

The Blue-tailed Fly

When I was young, I
used to wait on my master and pass him his plate, and hand him the bottle when
he got dry, and brush away the blue-tailed fly.


Jimmy cracked corn,
and I don’t care, Jimmy cracked corn and I don’t care, my master has gone away.

One day he ride around
the farm, the flies so numerous they did swarm. One chanced to bite him on the
thigh, the Devil take the blue-tailed fly.


The horse he bucked
and he pitched. He through my Master right in the ditch. He died and the jury
wondered why; the verdict was the Blue-tailed Fly.


Now we buried him neth
the simmon tree. His epitaph is there to see; beneath this stone I am domed to
lie, all cause of the Blue-tailed fly.

This little song just hangs on. It has been hung there for
two days, and it is getting a little old. It is not a bad song, I just want it
to go away. So I called the doctor. He said, “Take two aspirins, and call me in
the morning.”


Hollis Baker  17 June