mikarrhea banner
mika·cooper·her·blog
randomneuronfiringalienatedmajestysexgendersystemlamephilosophyfilmflamliterarypontificatingnowthisanecdotagepolitixdoggerelbloggeralijustgoberSERK
mikarrhea

blog-O-rama

>  blogdex
MIT media lab
>  boing boing
Cory Doctorow & friends
>  meme list
christian crumlish
>  snarkout
steve

e-personae

>  superette
Ann&Dabney
>  ByTheCathedral
Anonymous
>  boynton
Miss “Boynton”
>  Chocolate and Vodka
Suw Charman
>  margaret cho
nochorious
>  bloggedy blog blog
Katie Degentesh
>  Snozberry
Chris Horn
>  the redhead
wendy koslow
>  America Hates Us
Lillet & Trey
>  a girlie cul-de-sac
Ashlee McClelland
>  Making Light
theresa nielsen hayden
>  the fun hut
Fey Parrill
>  Free Love Freeway
Cynthia Rockwell
>  867-5309 jenny
jennifer roehm
>  Fists Unfurled
Sara Seinberg
>  michelle*
michelle thompson

logoblogs

>  Ivy is here
Ivy Alvarez
>  michael bérubé
Michael Bérubé
>  cup of chicha
Nathalie Chicha
>  Galley Cat
Nathalie Chicha
>  superdeluxe good poems
Chickee Chickston
>  eeksypeeksy
Malcolm Davidson
>  equanimity
Jordan Davis
>  pseudopodium
Ray Davis
>  transdada
Kari Edwards
>  Third Factory
Steve Evans
>  process documents
Ryan Fitzpatrick
>  overlap
Drew Gardner
>  ululate
Nada Gordon
>  old hag
Ms. Hag
>  this is all your fault
Christine Hamm
>  god of the machine
Aaron Haspel
>  Lisablog
Lisa Jarnot
>  The Jim Behrle Show
Jim Behrle
>  tykes on poetry
Jack Kimball
>  we write to taste life twice
Crystal King
>  lime tree
Kasey Silem Mohammed
>  Ruminate
Chris Lott
>  bemsha swing
Jonathan Mayhew
>  porthole redux
Catherine Meng
>  poop chute
Brooke Nelson
>  Maud Newton
Maud Newton
>  gila monster
Aimee Nezhukumatathil
>  mappemunde
Tim Peterson
>  fait accompli
Nick Piombino
>  caveat lector
Dorothea Salo
>  mike snider's formal blog & sonnetarium
Mike Snider
>  free space comix II
Brian K. Stephans
>  elsewhere
Gary Sullivan
>  the chatelaine's poetics
Eileen Tabios
>  about last night
Terry Teachout
>  CARVE
Aaron Tieger
>  Totebaggery
Lillet & Trey
>  okir
Jean Vengua
>  a fool in the forest
George M. Wallace
>  the ingredient
Alli Warren
>  william watkin's blog
William Watkin
>  stick poet super hero
Michael Wells
>  the well-nourished moon
Stephanie Young

politext

>  Agenda Bender
Agenda Bender
>  Eschaton
Atrios
>  Bad Attitudes
Jerry Doolittle
>  Empires Fall
Steve Barnes
>  Mystery Pollster
Mark Blumenthal
>  farai chideya
a former student
>  wonkette
ana marie cox
>  Brilliant at Breakfast
Jill Cozzi
>  crooked timber
philosocionomists
>  feministing
some ladies
>  filchyboy
christopher filkins
>  discourse.net
michael froomkin
>  talking points memo
josh marshall
>  the intersection
chris mooney
>  opinions you should have
tom burka
>  cousin blogorrhoea
Rob Schaap
>  the daily howler
bob sommerby
>  xx
some other ladies

sexual blogging

>  Susie Bright's Journal
Susie Bright
>  daze reader
evan daze
>  eros blog
bacchus & aphrodite
>  sex and depression
franny
>  edifying spectacle / pansexual sodomite
richard evans lee
>  Pillowbook
Wegglywoo



2005-06-02 13:51

Unfortunately, to get this anecdote across I have to seem to be tooting my own horn. Just think of it as a kazoo. And it’s my own kids tooting it, after all.

The other night it made me feel really warm and fuzzy inside to see a short burst of messages come up on my screen at around 1:00 AM from my 13-year-old daughter, Banana: she couldn’t get the song Panties out of her head, she was listening to it repeatedly via the link, but she couldn’t figure out how to import it into iTunes, could I send her the mp3?, etc.

The next day I was chauffeuring her and her 8-year-old brother, Morpheus, around and we started talking about the song, and I explained how to capture the mp3 for iTunes. Banana kept saying how catchy the song was and singing snatches (ok, Trey, this seems to me an authentic opportunity to use the phrase “no pun intended”: (a) I didn’t intend it as a pun; (b) it’s not one; but ( c) Beavis and Butthead will snigger, “panties, snatches, heh heh,” nonetheless!). At which Morpheus chimed in too, saying, “Wow, yeah! It’s totally catchy! It’s like too catchy, really! I can’t get it out of my head.” He likes to like things that his sister likes. Mimetic desire.

The afternoon was gorgeous. Radiant sunwarmth. Shorts, sandals, tanktops, miniskirts—sidewalks thronged. We opened the sunroof and all the windows on the Honda and sang together. It was like a fifties musical in Technicolor. But none of us remembered enough of the words to the verses. So we just kept belting out the choruses and laughing uproariously at the looks we got:

I had to smell your panties
I had to smell your panties
I had to smell
I had to smell
I’d even go to hell to smell panties

If Morpheus teaches it to even one other second-grader, I’m fucked.


  ·  anecdotage


* * *

  1. When I was younger even than Morpheus, my grandmother would sing me this nursery rhyme on the see-saw in Kissena Park.

    See-Saw
    Knock at the door
    Who’s there?
    Grandpa.
    What do you want?
    A glass of beer.
    Where’s your money?
    In my pocket.
    Where’s your pocket?
    In my pants.
    Where’s your pants?
    I left them home.
    Get out of here, you drunken bum!

    I’ve checked this memory out with my siblings. I’m not making it up.

    On the other hand, times have changed.
    Trey Desolay    Jun 3, 10:20 AM    #
  2. this is so very weird, i just googled see saw knock on the door, and i found this site. my grandmother use to sing it to me and i have now taught it to my 2 children. our ending is a little diffrent, we end it with get out of here you son of a gun. i didn’t take much time to see where this originated from but my mother was always under the assumption that my grandmother made it up. any info on it would be greatly appreciated. i was about to type it up and put it in a frame above my daughters bed b/c it is her favorite good nite song.
    karen    Jun 27, 01:51 PM    #
  3. Interesting. We used to sing this song—“see saw”—growing up in Brooklyn in an immigrant community. Karen, you’re right—Googling it brings up very few results. I’m curious to see if we can find a common thread among those familiar with the rhyme.
    theodore    Sep 8, 03:29 PM    #
  4. I, too, remember it as “drunken bum” (I grew up in the NY area as well). But I seem to remember “marjorie door” instead of “knock at the door”.
    Andy    Sep 26, 07:06 PM    #
  5. My mom said her grandma and grandpa use to sing this to her, she sings it to my neice now and she loves it. i think my great g-ma and g-pa were from cali.


    Jess    Jan 31, 08:42 AM    #
  6. My grandfather used to sing it with an Italian accent so it was like “see saw, knocka the door” who’s a there” . I also grew up in NYC


    Dawn    Feb 26, 04:54 PM    #
  7. I was teaching this to my two kids and tried to google it as well because my grandmother had a thick Sicilian accent and some of the words didn’t make sense. My sisters and bother and I all remeber it as see saw “rockidy daw” who’s there grandpa what do you want a glass if beer…etc. With the ending as get out if here you bum! Funny how we all thought “rockidy daw” was italian for something. We grew up in queens ny.


    Ann    Mar 30, 12:46 PM    #
  8. I, too, remember it as “drunken bum” (I grew up in the NY area as well). But I seem to remember “marjorie door” instead of “knock at the door”.


    Dating    Apr 13, 02:56 PM    #
  9. his song has been passd down to my daughter, starting with my Italian ancestors….


    Lexy    May 18, 12:52 PM    #
  10. I grew up hearing that song from my dad. I was born in Brooklyn, he’s from the Bronx. I learned it “see saw marjorie daw”


    Scott    Dec 11, 02:45 PM    #
  11. Fantastic post, many thanks from designer fashions


    Anonymous    Jan 27, 02:43 PM    #
  12. Wow, glad I found this!! I grew up in Brooklyn and my grandparents taught me this. The ending I remember was “where’s your pants, in the washing machine or at the cleaners or I left them home- then get out of here you dirty rat!!” .. funny


    christina    Feb 7, 06:17 PM    #
  13. My family sang this song to me, too. It’s so nice to see that it has carried on, and of course, all of my siblings have sung it to their children so the tradition will go on. I’m from Philadelphia, born to Irish/Scotch parents.


    Donna    Aug 8, 02:35 PM    #
  14. I forgot this for so many years until we had our own children. From our Italian family in Jersey City, NJ we had a different ending: ”... where’s your pants?, across the street, what number?, cucumber!”


    John    Oct 2, 01:59 PM    #
name
email
http://
Message
  Textile Help

  ·  

Blogarama - The Blog Directory Listed on BlogShares