Americana

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Yesterday in the car we were singing along to the soundtrack of O, Brother, Where Art Thou?

Jack’s favorite song has always been The Big Rock Candy Mountain.

I’d heard the Safe For Kids version of the song a million years ago when I was a nanny, and I thought it sucked. So I’ve never taught it to my kids.

Yesterday, Miles informed me that there are kids at school who sing it differently than we do, and it sounds stupid.

You know, the real song goes “the birds and the bees and the cigarette trees,” and the kid version calls them “sycamore trees.” Then there’s my favorite line, “And the little streams of alkyhol come a-trickling down the rocks,” which I love because hello, it’s about alcohol and rocks, but also because the line preceding it goes, “In the Big Rock Candy Mountain/You never change yer socks!”

That’s pure musical gold right there.

But, yeah, the music nazis changed “alkyhol” to “lemonade,” and that’s just no fun at all.

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Filed under Cars, Kids, Parenting, Stories

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