I used to think that some names and words sounded funny so I made up chants that included some of them. Actually, I was a bit weird.

Well, here is my rap of the 50s—“Hey pay yay tay uk a tay you big fat gook a tay, fo cuus and a jastro arch peacock chore, Chore chore peka Chore seemon bolivia var, the end ar har, saitin home gor gore, chore chore peka chore, chore peka!”

So you know, this integrated the names or nick names of a number of different people, some cool, some not so… that I thought were interesting or funny.

Nancy was Nemow Malincoff Ucunvichy  the third queer beer of the year.  “Nemow” is woman spelled backwards, of course, Malincoff Ucunvichy was a name in the news at the time that I thought sounded funny.  I often teased Nancy that she would surely marry a guy with that name. She of course loved it.

Nancy was actually more interested in the cats, dogs, horses, calves, lambs, flowers and frilly dresses Mom always made her. She was a dear little girl but a bit spoiled, especially by Dad, Mom, Tom, Dick and Jerry.  At the breakfast table, during the prayer, she would snitch Dad’s bacon or other stuff he had that she wanted and got away with it, but if one of the boys did such a thing watch out for some serious retribution.  Fortunately, Mom was there to maintain some semblance of civilization.  Actually Dad started the whole thing by snitching from Jerry’s plate the things Jerry would push aside and accumulate because he liked them best and liked to save them to eat last. Illuminating, huh? But, probably not particularly inspiring…

For some reason I sometimes called Jerry-Geraldine Mickavich Ucunvichy on special occasions. Tom and I also called him Fuzz in honor of his nifty fuzzy haircut.  We loved to rub his fuzzy head and repeat the great poem “Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bear, Fuzzy Wuzzy had no hair so Fuzzy Wuzzy wasn’t very fuzzy was he.” There were a few variations, depending upon circumstances. Jerry was a very special, very honest boy and man and enjoyed the fun and gave it back.  He also loved to play pirate and bury treasure, and usually forgot where he buried it.  He was gifted in some special ways; he could lure bees to land on his hand and was never stung. I remember him as a little boy coming in and telling us that he could pet birds.  Dad said, “Right, show me”, and pure Jerry went back outside where we were flood irrigating the back lawn, and, while we watched from the dining room window and he went slowly approached wild, free birds, I remember them to be robins, and gently petted them.

I shot birds and could then pet them.

By the way, there were several other chants usually from names or people I found interesting.

There were also some chants that Tom and I both had for the cows at times but I won’t go into those. Suffice it to say there is such a thing as stockmens’ prerogatives.