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See also [The Same Old Shillelagh]

The Irish Were Egyptians & Other Lullabies

I was blessed with a father who loved to sing to his children at bedtime. He told us stories too, but it's the singing and the songs he taught us that endure. I don't think he realized what a winning formula he had right off the bat… formulas take time to perfect.

My mother figured out the power of the song first, once she figured out the power of the rocking chair to soothe her first, most cantankerous, and most sleep-resistant child. (That would be me.) She had a sunny, Doris Day voice and loved to sing turalura-lura… that's an Irish lullaby. But the song all four of us kids loved most was Daisy.

Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer, do.
I'm half crazy over the love of you.
It won't be a stylish marriage —
I can't afford a carriage.
But you'll look sweet
Upon the seat
Of a bicycle built for two.

(Singing didn't always work with me. Sometimes they gave up and took me for a car ride, which usually made me give up my stubborn grasp on the day.)

A little later, my father took on bedtime duty. He'd lie down next to me and my brother (adding sisters as they graduated from Daisy), after a long day's work selling Dutch Boy Paint to hardware stores.

I can't remember when he first sang The Irish Were Egyptians but I do remember standing up in front of my first-grade class and singing it to the throng of 60 kids. My grandmother came from Ireland and I assumed she brought these songs from the "old country" but later I realized they were Irish-American songs, learned by my father and his 4 siblings from old 78 RPM records that came packaged free with the Victorola (How's that for a source of family tradition?) [1]

It must have been the Irish, who built the pyramids,
For no one else could carry up the bricks.
It must have been a Doyle, who swam the river Nile,
For no one but an Irishman could fight a crocodile.
And every Houlihan once led a caravan;
They say the same for every Mc and O.
When Moses came to Egypt and saw those Irish faces,
He took the name of Callahan and changed it to O'Asis.
Now all the Houlihans and all the Gilligans
Must have been Egyptians long ago-o-o-o-o-o.

Then there was the long lament of Nell Flaherty's Drake, a complex song with a chanting melody that only my father could get right. I never really knew all the words (probably because he could never remember all the verses either), but my uncle wrote them out for us. Someone murdered Nell Flaherty's beautiful drake and the whole song consists of a list of curses toward the villain.

May his spade never dig, may his sow never pig,
May the hair on his wig be all matted like hay.
May the curse of each hag, that carries a bag
Fall down on his wife 'til her hair turns gray.
May his door never latch, may his roof have no thatch
May his turkeys not hatch, may the mice eat his cake.
May a 2-year-old bug build a nest in the lug [2]
Of the monster that murdered me beautiful drake.

And who could forget the admonitions of Bridget O'Flynn… Where Have You Been?

Bridget O'Flynn, where have you been, Bridget O'Flynn?
Sure it's a fine time for you to be gettin' in.
You went to see the big parade, the big parade me eye.
There was never a parade in all this world took that long passin' by.
Did you walk home?  Look at your shoes, ain't it a sin.
Your shoes are like your story mighty thin.
Stay away from the dancin' hall,
There's nobody there worthwhile a-tall.
That's where I met your father Bridget da-a-a-arling.

Bridget O'Flynn, where have you been, Bridget O'Flynn?
Sure it's a fine time for you to be gettin' in.
You went to see the big parade, the big parade me eye.
There was never a parade in all this world took that long passin' by.
Did you walk home?  Look at your shoes, ain't it a sin.
Your shoes are like your story mighty thin.
Let me give this advice to you,
If you know a fellow who owns a canoe,
Don't go near the water Bridget da-a-a-arling.

Bridget O'Flynn, where have you been, Bridget O'Flynn?
Sure it's a fine time for you to be gettin' in.
Your boyfriend took you for a ride and did the car break down
Or maybe you ran out of gas about ten miles from town?
Did you walk home?  Look at your shoes, ain't it a sin.
Your shoes are like your story mighty thin.
Stay away from the dancin' hall,
There's nobody there worthwhile a-tall.
That's where I met your father Bridget da-a-a-arling.

But our very favorite was Old Green River. Beyond the poetry, was the special sound effect that it required. My father would puff his cheeks with his thumb jammed into his mouth (sideways, in front of the teeth), then POP! it out… the perfect reproduction of a cork snapping out of a bottle. (Watch the Quicktime movie above.)

Half past four, Dan McGrore came knockin' on his wifey's door
She'd been waiting up all night -- waiting for him to go to bed.
Danny smiled, like a child, but his wife she grew very wild.
"Where have you been all night long?" she cried.
And this is what Danny replied:
[CHORUS]
I've been floating down that [POP!] Old Green River,
On the good Ship Rock and Rye.
But I floated too far — I got lost on the bar
There was I all alone, wishing that I was home.
The ship got wrecked with its captain and crew
And there was only one thing left to do —
So I had to drink that [POP!] Old Green River dry
To get back home to you-u-u-u-u-u-u.

My nieces and nephews know these songs now and they are sung at family gatherings when we get particularly nostalgic. My father's hands are pretty crippled but he still does the best POP! Out of my family circle, I will sing these songs when I am particularly drunk and not averse to making an ass of myself (my singing voice being wavery and weak).

We have a hilarious videotape of my wedding to Jim. Somehow… no not somehow — we were all rip-roaring drunk — my father and I sang Old Green River to the camera. Not to be outdone, Jim and his father sang one of their favorite childhood songs: Oh, How I Hate My Father.

This seems to beg for some sort of sociological commentary, but I think I'll let it go unsaid.

[1] Irish Were Egyptions, by Chris Smith, 1920. Chris Smith was an African-American composer, who also wrote Ballin' the Jack. Sheet music. The Roches Singers performed the song on the Dick Cavet show in 1985 (QT movie). It was also sung in The Cardinal (1963), available on DVD.

[2] lug = ear