Day: July 21, 2007

Somethings Never Change

/ Anita Marie / 7 Comments

When I was a little girl considered this song my own personal anthem.

And I guess I’d have to say it still is. 

So I’m posting the video here with short info piece from my friends at Wikipedia.

Enjoy….

It’s one of those tunes!

 

ARTIST: Trad and Anon
TITLE: Iko Iko
Lyrics and Chords

[Originally a folk tune, the version “everyone” is familiar with was
popularized by “Jockamo” James Crawford, ~1950, New Orleans]

My grandma and your grandma
Were sittin’ by the fire
My grandma told your grandma
I’m gonna set your flag on fire

/ D – / – A / A – / – D /

{Refrain}
Talkin’ ’bout hey now, hey now! Hey now, hey now!
Iko, iko unday
Jockamo feeno ai nané
Jockamo fee nané

Look at my king all dressed in red
Iko, iko, unday
I betcha five dollars he’ll kill you dead
Jockamo fee nané

{Refrain}

My flag boy and your flag boy
Were sittin’ by the fire
My flag boy told your flag boy
I’m gonna set your flag on fire

{Refrain}

See that guy all dressed in green
Iko, iko, unday
He’s not a man, he’s a lovin’ machine
Jockamo fee nané

{Refrain}

“Iko Iko” (sometimes titled “Aiko Aiko“) is a much-covered New Orleans song that tells of a parade collision between two “tribes” of Mardi Gras Indians. The lyrics are derived from Indian chants and popular catchphrases. The song, under the original title “Jock-A-Mo“, was written in 1954 by James “Sugar Boy” Crawford in New Orleans, but has spread so widely that many people take it to be a much older folk song. The song is closely identified as a Mardi Gras song, but it is equally known as a Top 40 hit and a Grateful Dead song.

The story tells of a “spy boy” or lookout for one band of Indians encountering the “flag boy” or guidon carrier for another band. He threatens to set the flag on fire.

The lyrics of the song are based on Louisiana Creole French. The phrase Iko Iko may have been derived from one or more of the languages of Gambia, possibly from the phrase Ago!, meaning “listen!” or “attention!”. The line from the chorus, Yock-a-mo feen-o and-dan-day echoes the original title amidst Creole palaver.

Commuting Sux

/ Anita Marie / 12 Comments

 newstuff2007011.jpg

I was eating my chips enjoying the sun and watching the Homeland Security SUV’s cruise up and down 2nd Ave early this week at my bus stop.

They’ve got a routine, the white SUV with the Homeland Security logo circles the block twice and when the white SUV rolls through the intersection the second time a black Homeland Security SUV passes it and then about ten minutes later they do it all over again.

So what could possibly distract me from this intracate Traffic Ballet?

A guy with a hammer.

There’s a guy with a hammer following two guys wearing suits and he’s asking how’d they’d like a taste of it up long side their heads.

He’s waving the hammer in their faces and both these guys are looking at everyone standing along side the wall and wondering if we’re all going to stand there and do nothing

There were enough cell phones at that bus stop to circle the planet twice and no… nobody called for help- big surprise. I don’t have a phone on me and when I turned to a guy next to me he looked in the other direction.

So for whatever reason the guy with the hammer lets these two guys go and turns around and does the same thing to a couple of other guys who were standing at the bus stop NOT calling for help and he’s screaming about how he’s sick of ‘ you all’ and he starts waving the hammer some more.

Then he turns and looks right at me.

I’m back up against a wall and I figure he’s got the hammer and I’ve got nowhere to go. And from what I’ve seen we’re all on our own here. So I shove my little bag of chips into my book bag and I keep my eye on his right shoulder.

Then I step forward a little and decide that if he comes at me I’ll have to kneecap him with the heel of my foot- and you know that’s nothing compared to a hammer but…

It was a plan.

Then he raises the hammer up, looks through me and turns and goes screaming down the street about how all he ever wanted was some respect.

I look around.

There are four grown men who look like they’re going to start crying ( heck no I don’t think that’s funny ) there’s a bunch of people trying to find something to look at except for these four men who are falling apart right in front of us… then there’s me.

I grab what’s left of my chips out of my book bag and start munching.

I’m still mad about this entire thing and I’m not even sure why.

amm