Beverage songs

In your mind's ear, imagine the song "Tequila," rearranged as chamber music. The new refrain, of course, is "Darjeeling!"

If I were a carpenter

Just one verse so far.

If I were a carpenter, and you were a walrus
Would you lure the oysters away, would you share the mollusks?
If a hatter were my trade, would you come to tea?
Would you draw from the treacle-well, and take the dishes behind me?

Ikea Lament

To the tune of "Lady Franklin's Lament."

---

The pressboard bookshelves lay in a heap.
I gave it up and went off to sleep.
I dreamed a dream that stopped my snore
For I was lost in an Ikea store.

I had a cart and a yellow bag,
I munched on meatballs and picked up tags.
But when at last it came time to leave,
The way outside I could not perceive.

Turning around, it seemed all the same.
Mountains of things with their Swedish names.
Though all the rooms were signed and lit,
The one path to travel was twisted and split.

Upstairs and down I went through the aisles,
Through desks, chairs, beds, boxes, plates and files.
Ikea clerks when they did pass through
Could not be caught when I tried to pursue.

In Emery Bay where the shoppers go,
Ikea's exit no man may know.
Ikea's exit no tongue can tell,
It seemed my doom to forever there dwell.

When I awoke, my shelves caused me pain
For a missing part I must return again.
Ten thousand krona's not too much to pay
To avoid the trap of Ikea's maze.

I never really liked this very much -- it doesn't really do much besides change the original song to the Internet milieu -- but what the heck.

This is a parody of the original song by Woody Guthrie. It is the song that (as of December 2003) the Postal Service is using for its ads. (Without checking I'm not sure, but it sounds like it's John McCutcheon's version from his album also called "Mail Myself to You." Hooray for the Apple Music Store for letting me listen to 30 seconds of this for free.) This parody (especially the spoken part) is based on Pete Seeger's version on his "We Shall Overcome" concert album.

---

Gonna E-Mail Myself to You

I'm gonna wrap myself in IP
I'm gonna use TCP too
Four octets on the top of my head
Gonna e-mail myself to you.

I'm gonna tie me up with SMTP
I'm gonna use sendmail too
Climb up inside my hard drive
Gonna e-mail myself to you.

(spoken)

And then my modem comes and takes me out of the hard drive and breaks me up into little packets and takes me down to my ISP. And they put me on a big T1 in a big ATM network. And then it gets to your ISP and they take the packets and throw them off the T1 and they take me down to their port selector and your modem comes and takes me down the POTS line to your house.

When you find me in your e-mail
Double-click and let me out
Get those header lines offa my fingers
Wash that spam taste outta my mouth.

Take me out of my IP wrapper
Wash the octets offa my head
Fill me up with steaming lattes
Stay up geeking out of bed.

I'm gonna wrap myself in IP
I'm gonna use TCP too
Four octets on the top of my head
Gonna e-mail myself to you.

About my lyrics

For some reason I've never really been able to figure out, I occasionally rewrite song lyrics. Science-fiction fans call them "filk songs," a term that supposedly arose from a typographical error. Although it does lend one ideas (perhaps an article on "The Filk Process" by Alan Limax?) I've never liked the term very much. It strikes me as self-indulgent.

Or maybe it's just the filk songs themselves that are self-indulgent. Just changing the background of a song from contemporary to futuristic isn't particuarly interesting or amusing. That's not to say one couldn't write an amusing science-fiction parody, but I would hope it would have some point beyond that.

Of course, if the song isn't funny at all, it's not really parody, is it? "Bob Dylan's Dream" was inspired by "Lady Franklin's Lament" and many phrases are the same, but nobody could really call it a parody. [Unlike "Ikea Lament", which was written years after I originally wrote this.]

Song fragments

These are unfinished bits or bits that don't show enough promise to be a real song. Many of them come from an attempt I did at writing "high-tech folk songs," few of which actually worked. The idea seems too contrived, now. Oh well. Hooray for the art of punmanship.

---

Didn't pay the bills on my Cellular One
I fought McCaw and McCaw won
I fought McCaw and McCaw won
Didn't have the money to pay none
I fought McCaw and McCaw won
I fought McCaw and McCaw won

I lost my cell phone and I feel so bad
My phone number's gone
Don't tell me cellular's just some fad
I fought McCaw and McCaw won
I fought McCaw and McCaw won

---

I took (and later helped teach) a class in university about the art and practice of desktop publishing. I did a project to evaluate textbooks for the class. One of the books about how to use PageMaker was so badly designed that I couldn't recommend it even though the content was in fact very good. It was set entirely in Lubalin Graph, with keywords set in scaled small caps (that is, small caps that are simply scaled-down versions of the big caps). This looks bad anyway and looks absolutely horrible in a face where all the lines appear to be the same thickness, as in Lubalin Graph. I learned to really hate Lubalin Graph after that. (And later I bought a laser printer that had it built in. Ugh.)

Anyway, when I realized that "Cumberland Gap" had the same meter as "Lubalin Graph" I couldn't help trying to write a parody. It never really worked. I find longer verses make parodies much easier to write.

I cried so hard it made me laugh;
I read a book set in Lubalin Graph.

CHORUS:
Lubalin Graph, Lubalin Graph:
Just can't stand that Lubalin Graph.

Typographic arts and crafts
are demeaned by Lubalin Graph.

Of the faces Egyptian
None are worse than Lubalin's.

My eyes squint with Avant Garde;
Lubalin Graph is twice as hard.

Small caps scaled from full size
Show imbalance to the eyes.

---

CHORUS: (sing twice)
Weave, weave, weave me a web site
Out on the internet.
Weave me the hope of a new IPO,
And fill up my wallet.

Well I've seen the Apple and the Commodore crumble
Shine on me again.
Even Microsoft has stumbled,
Shine on me again.

If only I could money borrow
Shine on me again.
I'd help you to fund your new IPO
Shine on me again.

---

Come all of you webmasters,
Good news to you I'll tell
About that new ISP
Who's come in here to dwell.

CHORUS:
Which site are you on?
Which site are you on?
Which site are you on?
Which site are you on?

---

This has been running through my mind forever. I never could think of a verse though (to take the place of "I got a mule and her name is Sal," and so forth).

We've hauled some music in our day,
Mozart, Chopin, and Bizet,
And we've run every inch of the way
From the outer ear to the cochlea.

CHORUS:
Low note, everybody down,
Low note, for we're haulin' down a sound.
And you'll always know your Elgar, you'll know your Pachelbel
If you've ever navigated on the Ear Canal.

This came from when I was thinking about the blues and how they were originally written by people without much education. Intellectuals get depressed, but instead of writing songs they've turned to psychology. Maybe if the blues used more hi-falutin' words?

---

The Intellectual's Azures

My manuscript was shredded
My articles were returned
My tenure was rejected
My résumés were spurned
I've got the azures - the intellectual's azures. Uh-huh.
I must bemoan my fate:
Adjunct at Chico State
I've got the azures. Oh yeah.

Got a BA from Berkeley
A PhD from Yale
But when I try to get a job
I seem to always fail
I've got the azures - the intellectual's azures. Uh-huh.
UMass says I'm a clown
Nine UCs turned me down
I've got the azures. Oh yeah.

I wrote on deconstruction
Of Huckleberry Finn
But I found out just yesterday
Meaning's no longer 'in!'
I've got the azures - the intellectual's azures. Uh-huh.
The journal sent it back;
So much for tenure track
I've got the azures. Oh yeah.

They're cutting my whole department
To cut back all the chaff
I guess it could be somewhat worse
I could be on the staff
I've got the azures - the intellectual's azures. Uh-huh.
The provost got a raise
While laying off TAs
I've got the azures. Oh yeah.

I worked for years to get both of
The robe and cornered hat
But in my new job I now say
"Would you like fries with that?"
I've got the azures - the intellectual's azures. Uh-huh.
At least they call me "Doc".
Down at Jack in the Box
I've got the azures. Oh yeah.

But even if I had a job
At university
I'd make close to the same amount
I'd make at Mickey D's
I've got the azures - the intellectual's azures. Uh-huh.
Money I'll never see
From my 403(b)
This trend could mean the death
Of TIAA-CREF.
I'll never get to be
Part of AAUP
I've got the azures. Oh yeah.

When I was a sophomore in high school, one of my fellow students wrote several different letters to the school newspaper, and they would get printed even though everybody on the newspaper staff thought they were less than valuable. As I recall he was the only one who had any letters printed over a period of several months.

This is the first parody I remember writing. I thought I had lost it but it turned up in a box of mementos. It's not really very good (the meter is awful) but I think if one is defaming someone named Roger Sage one could hardly pick a better song to do it with.

---

Roger Sage and the New York Times

Are you going to print that letter?
Roger Sage and the New York Times
Sage's ideas: Our readers will scare
Drop our circulation to nine.

Please don't print old Sage's letter.
Roger Sage and the New York Times
For sanity don't you have a care?
This will lose us zillions of dimes.

Don't ask me again, Sage, about that letter.
Roger Sage and the New York Times
Sage, your ideas will open our wounds bare.
Save the riots for another time.

Oh, no, they printed Sage's letter.
Roger Sage and the New York Times
I'm getting out, right now while I still dare.
My reputation: can I save it in time?

I wrote this in October, 1996. Someone at SCO asked me if they could use it in a company theatrical of some sort. I don't know if they did or not.

I suspect I was half thinking of Frank Jacobs' "Headshrinker, Headshrinker" from Mad magazine when I wrote this. Given that, and that a headhunter is in fact another kind of matchmaker, I can't say this is very imaginative. Oh well.

---

Headhunter, Headhunter

Headhunter, headhunter please hunt my head
Offer me jobs
Get out the lead
Headhunter, headhunter look in your book
And get me a lot more bread

Send me
To far-off and distant shores
Where I'll do a job interview
They're I'll
Play tourist on your dime
Knowing the bills are all going to you...

Headhunter, headhunter please hunt my head
Work I have now
Fills me with dread
Headhunter, headhunter find me ano-
ther place I can work, instead!

Like many schools (although not UCSC as far as I know), U.C. Berkeley has a lot of "school spirit" songs. One of them is called "Big C," about the large C installed on the hillside above the Berkeley campus. The melody to this song was used by a UCLA student for "Sons of Westwood," the best-known UCLA spirit song. I figured U.C. Santa Cruz could also use a spirit song. Of course, Santa Cruz is a little different than most other schools.

Tom Lehrer, who wrote "Fight Fiercely, Harvard," taught at Santa Cruz for many years. (I would have liked to, but I never got around to taking his math class. I knew somebody who took his musical class and it sounded like far too much work, putting on a different play every two weeks.) I guess he wouldn't have wanted to try to recapture his success... still, if anybody could have given the Banana Slugs the school spirit song they deserve, it would have been him.

---

Big Slug

(If UCLA can do it...)

On our steeply sloping footpaths,
Sits our lovely B'nana Slug.
The Slug means for all to think
Of peace from man to bug.
Yellow Slug is ever-present;
Comes on us from below,
If he should hear a word
Unkind or untoward,
He will shake his head "No,no."

What's he say?
He says No! No!
No-oh-oh!

We are sons and we are daughters
Of our shaken Santa Cruz.
We are here to be enlightened,
And also here to muse.
In siblinghood we'll be united
All over our Earth;
With politics of mass,
We'll fight for working class;
For love there'll be no dearth!

Chuck Bigelow's "who will write the most stupid thing on comp.fonts" contest inspired this, written in December 1994. Don Hosek published it in his typography magazine, Serif.

I don't actually agree with most of this, but it's difficult to write a song with the message "stick to established traditions" when parodying Dylan.

My copy of Simon and Garfunkel's Wednesday Morning, 3 A.M. got a good workout while I was writing this. For some reason Simon and Garfunkel have been a channel for me: in high school I wrote "Roger Sage and the New York Times" to "Scarborough Fair". And, obviously, it was also related to "Times." This is either a weird coincidence or a profound insight into my innermost soul.

---

The Times they are a-changing

(Apologies to Mr. Zimmerman)

Come type-aholics wherever you roam
Look at old Times Roman sitting on its throne
And accept it that soon you'll be sick of the drone
Of old Stanley Morison's makings
Still, you can do better than ITC Stone
For the Times, they are a-changing

Come draftsmen and artists who calligraph with the pen
Break in your nibs now, the chance won't come again
The type balls and wheels are no longer in spin
Now lasers and inkjets are aiming
The Linotypes have ceased their hot noisy din
And the Times, they are a-changing

Come Berthold, Adobe, Hell-Linotype all:
Don't be too surprised if we break your cabal
The whole design world we've worked to enthrall
Your efforts we are upstaging
It may look to you like just chicken-scratch scrawl
But the Times, they are a-changing

Come old-fashioned designers all over the land
And don't rasterize what you can't understand
Carson and Deck are beyond your command
Hermann Zapf is rapidly aging
We're progressing beyond Carolingian hand
And the Times, they are a-changing

The line it is drawn, the metal is cast
Yet laser and film are proved to be fast
Though old-timers often have been struck aghast
At the poor amateurs masquerading
We've all broken through the typographer's caste
For the Times, they are a-changing

For the Times, they are a-changing

---

The penultimate paragraph used to begin as follows:

Come old-fashioned designers all over the land
And don't criticize what you can't understand
Segura and Carson are beyond your command

I think it's better this way, and not inconsistent with what it might have been like in 1994 had I thought of it. (No change in preference is intended by referring to Mr. Deck instead of Mr. Segura -- the change merely improves the meter.)

Aaron Priven's silly spiritual lyrics

At U.C. Santa Cruz there are internal forums for discussion of various topics. This is a quote from one ("Free-Stuff," where people offer items not worth selling).

It's probably filled with so many in-jokes that nobody will understand it, but I don't expect anybody to read this Web page anyway.

I still like the words I wrote to "Very Last Day."

---

--------
[ Free-Stuff ] Message 214 (10 left): Tue Nov 12, 1991  1:03am
From: Aaron Priven (aaronrp@b) (aaronrp@ucscb)
Subject: i am currently the most senior

aaron on b.  I'm the aaron chair!  I have seniority!  I am the superaaron!
All hail before Aaron the Rp!  Aaron II!  And if I do say so... Aaron B!!!

sorry.

 =Aaron= (of course)
--------
[ Free-Stuff ] Message 215 (9 left): Tue Nov 12, 1991  9:09am
From: Priced to GOOooOooOOOoo (uberman@ucscb)
Subject: hmph


but are you the UberAaron?



didn't think so.

--------
[ Free-Stuff ] Message 216 (8 left): Tue Nov 12, 1991  10:21am
From: Otter (otter@ucscb)
Subject: of course


no.
er, Not. 

too many letters

--------
[ Free-Stuff ] Message 219 (5 left): Tue Nov 12, 1991  1:52pm
From: Aaron Priven (aaronrp@b) (aaronrp@ucscb)
Subject: not only am I the UberAaron,

I'm also free, which makes this totally appropriate to this node.

The Aaron is dead!  Long live the Aaron!
 
 =Aaron=
--------
[ Free-Stuff ] Message 220 (4 left): Tue Nov 12, 1991  6:56pm
From: Priced to GOOooOooOOOoo (uberman@ucscb)
Subject: 'When Aaron was in Egypt-land,


let my Aaron go.'

:\

--------
[ Free-Stuff ] Message 222 (2 left): Tue Nov 12, 1991  8:36pm
From: Aaron Priven (aaronrp@b) (aaronrp@ucscb)
Subject: I looked over Aaron and what did I see,

coming for to carry me home?
A Mod Soc major lookin' after me,
coming for to carry me home.

---
Aaron Priven bound in jail.
      _All_night_long_.
For tellin that long tall tale.
      _All night long_.
For tellin' that, long tall tale.
      _All night long_.
Aaron, deliver, for me-ee.

---

Oh sinner man, where ya gonna run to?
Oh sinner man, where ya gonna run to?
Oh sinner man, where ya gonna run to?
All on that day.

Run to the dorm, dorm won't ya hide me?
Run to the dorm, dorm won't ya hide me?
Run to the dorm, dorm won't ya hide me?
All on that day.

Run to BC, Van won't ya hide me?
Run to BC, Van won't ya hide me?
Run to BC, Van won't ya hide me?
All on that day.

Run to Unix B, B won't ya hide me?
Run to Unix B, B won't ya hide me?
Run to Unix B, B won't ya hide me?
All on that day.

Aaron said, Sinner man, dorm'll be evicted;
Aaron said, Sinner man, BC'll be freezing;
Aaron said, Sinner man, B will be off-line;
All on that day.

---

Oh I will walk with, that Aaron P.
Down by the riverside,
Down by the riverside,
Down by the riverside.
Oh I will walk with, that Aaron P.
Down by the riverside,
And study Nat Sci no more.

Oh I will study Nat Sci no more.
I will study Nat Sci no more.
Study Nat Sci no more...

-----------

I have more spirituals and lots and lots more folk songs around here
somewhere...
 
 =Aaron=
--------
[ Free-Stuff ] Message 223 (1 left): Tue Nov 12, 1991  9:58pm
From: Priced to GOOooOooOOOoo (uberman@ucscb)
Subject: the cult of aaron


cheap, but not free.
banshee can collect the souls for ya.

--------
[ Free-Stuff ] Message 224 (0 left): Wed Nov 13, 1991  12:05am
From: Aaron Priven (aaronrp@b) (aaronrp@ucscb)
Subject: Go tell it over the tee-vee

Over the air, and in the living rooms;
Go, tell it on the tee-vee
That Aaron P. is come

Down in that lonely lobby,
The Aaron watches alone;
He waits until the Star-Trek
Viewers come to atone. (Hallelujah!)

Go tell it on the tee-vee
Over the air, and in the living rooms;
Go tell it on the tee-vee
That Aaron P. is come.
---
Everybody gonna pray on the very last day
When they hear that Aaron spelled with a double A
Everybody gonna pray to the Aaron on Spelling Bee Day
Well you can sing about the Noah Webster
And you can talk about the OED
But if they spell my name with double R's they'll lose the spelling bee...
I don't ask much, okay:
Just spell with a double A
Get ready, spellers, for that day:
Everybody's gonna pray...
---
Who's that yonder dressed in puce,
(Let my people go!)
Must be the people that Aaron duped...
(Let my people go...)
---
This train is bound for Aaron, this train
This train is bound for Aaron, this train
This train is bound for Aaron
It's gonna bring stuff to him and it's gonna turn round again
This train is bound for Aaron, this train
---
All my trials, Aaron, soon be over.

I had a little Aaron he said to me
To waste some time, use Unix B....
All my trials, Aaron, soon be over.

If religion were a thing that money could buy
Oral Roberts would be a real rich guy
All my trials, Aaron, soon be over.

Too late my Aaron, too late, but never mind
All my trials, Aaron, soon be over.

There is a tree in Paradise
The Regents cut it, for college nine
All my trials, Aaron, soon be over.

---
It was poor little Aaron, (Yes, yes!)
He went to Financial Aid, (Yes, yes!)
Didn't have no grants, (Yes, yes!)
Wasn't that a pity and a shame, O Lord, wasn't that a pity and a shame.

It was poor little Aaron, (Yes, yes!)
Didn't have no work-study, (Yes, yes!)
Had Perkins loans instead, (Yes, yes!)
Oh wasn't that a pity and a shame, O Lord, wasn't that a pity and a shame.
---
When College Eight
Its name comes in
When College Eight, its name comes in
We all know, it really should be Priven
When College Eight its name comes in.
---
I got a home in that rock, don't you see.
I got a home in that rock, don't you see.
I got a home in that rock, Aaron says that folk is hot.
I got a home in that folk, don't you see.
---
Aaron row the boat ashore (Hallelujah!)
Aaron row the boat ashore (Hallelujah!)

Aaron's engine done conked out (Hallelujah!)
Aaron's engine done conked out (Hallelujah!)

Aaron gets carsick and seasick (Hallelujah!)
Aaron gets carsick and seasick (Hallelujah!)

What the hell is Aaron doing here (Hallelujah!)
What the hell is Aaron doing here (Hallelujah!)
---
I know this joke is getting really old for y'all, especially since
you probably don't know the songs these are based on, but *I'm* 
having a blast...
Free-Stuff> 

Talking Education Blues

If you're not familiar with folk songs and don't know what a 'talking blues' is, it's basically a poem in meter usually accompanied by a banjo. There's a specific tune that's played in the ones I've heard. The ones I know best are the Weavers' Talking Blues, the Almanac Singers' Talking Union, Woody Guthrie's Talking Dust Bowl Blues and Noel Stookey's Talking Candy Bar Blues.

And this one, of course.

I wrote this in my first year at UCSC.

---

Talking Education Blues

You wanna get an education, let me tell you what to do
Gotta get good grades in that old high school
Or a real high score on the S. A. T.
Real unfair if ya wanna ask me
Sure ain't based on ability
Or desire.
And don't even mention financial need.

Well you get to university and you find
Things that'll help you build your mind
Like open-book midterms and final exams
Spend two days beforehand crammin' and crammin'.
But you know, they say you never forget
Least for a whole hour after the test.
Maybe longer.
'Course, your eyes won't come through it any stronger.

Well, after you take that old class
Comes round another one ya gotta pass
Or if you don't, you're on the street,
One thing at college that can't be beat:
Student Loans.
Perkins, Stafford, the boys out to get you.

Well, you pass your major and GEs
Done got out with your degree
And now it's time to get to work
Got a boss who's a real jerk
The Company, it pays high wages
But the labor surely doesn't engage
The enthusiasm.
Or the interest.
I went through four long years of that, for this?