I donít know about the rest of you, but I like to sing or hum while Iím outside working or in the barn doing chores. I can belt out a good many oldie moldy rock songs. Sure, I donít know all the words, but the goats donít care and you can make up words for those old songs as you go along or just put in a good hum in their place. Like that old patriotic song, "American Woman", I believe by the Who. Really who cares who wrote them as long as I remember the tune part way.
In "American Woman" you have to mimic the electrical guitar that starts the song, a long wailing note. This always perks up the goats ears. Then you start belting out "American woman, stay away from me -eee. American woman, momma, leave me be-eee. I donít want your milk and crackers or your salad machines." See, what I mean about making up your own words? Youíre out in the barn, youíre in the mood to sing, and so what if you donít know the words? People within in hearing distance (all up and down the valley) have informed me that "American Woman" is not a patriotic song, itís about someone really bawling out America. Well, in my song itís patriotic and we talk a lot about milk and crackers and salad machines.
A good song that you half remember can make the work just flow along. Making up your words you donít know is easy, or just hum or grunt their place if you donít remember or canít make something up. The grunt in the song works particularly well when you are cleaning stall and throwing heavy forkfuls of manure into the manure spreader. Some songs start sounding like you are "rapping" then, really with it, man.
I am a pretty decent rapper when cleaning out stalls. The grunt of "Uh, uh-uh, uh, uh!" works out real well with the digging, lifting and throwing manure. Oh, and donít forget the pursing of the lips and blowing air out, violently vibrating the lips sound. Thatís in rapping songs a lot. In a particularly deep manure filled stall with a lot of heavy lifting involved, pick a song and try "Uh, uh-uh, uh, uh-uh!" then purse your lips and blow hard and make rude gas noises (with your lips). It really fits the occasion of stall cleaning.
And, donít get me started on spirituals. I love spiritual songs. Years ago one that I thought was a spiritual song made number one on the rock charts, "One Toke Over the Line, Sweet Jesus." Boy, I could belt that one out while outside working. Until one day a friend informed me it wasnít a spiritual. I told him he was nuts, didnít he hear Sweet Jesus in there? He then patiently informed me that a toke was a joint. I said a building? An elbow? No, no, he said, you naÔve goat farmer, itís mary jane, pot, weed. I informed him I knew no mary jane, and I definitely wouldnít be singing about pottery or worthless weeds. He finally got it into my head that some silly person wrote about drugs.
I immediately stopped the singing of that song. I didnít want a bunch of dark helicopters hovering over our farm, spot lighting and scaring the goats. The song was banned off my song charts forever. And, it had such a good swinging country flair to it, too.
Concerning songs, I did run into a problem with a name I had given a particular baby doe. I named her Maria. I was in a Spanish/Mexican frame of mind one day (West Virginians tend to do this), maybe it was after that burrito lunch I just had, and named twin girls Maria and Conswella. I know, I know, Conswella is not spelled right, but after all Iím a West Virginian, what do I know about Spanish/Mexican names? We have names like Bubba, Billy Bob, or Ernest T. and that includes the women.
There was a country song called "Maria" put out by two guys and it goes "Mariiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii-ah. Maria, I love you." You have to put a real squealing yodel on that Maria, or at least thatís what it sounds like when I do it, and really the "I" in Maria sounds like a very long "eeeeee" and I love singing it out in the open air. I can really squeal that song good. The goats always perk their ears to attention, and this is something when you see long eared Boers doing this, and they walk very carefully around me. I only know several words to that song, okay, only 3-4 words really, but, I love it. Every time I say the little doeís name I have to start squealing, I mean singing, it. Lee seems to always find something else to do on the other side of the farm when I start this and doesnít realize what a fun song it is.
And, cowboy songs, I love a good cowboy songs. Even rock groups must dream of being cowboys every now and then. One popular rock cowboy song went "I want to be a cowboy baby." Which really stumped me for a while. Why would anyone want to be a cowboy baby? What can a cowboy baby do, except wear cute little cowboy hats and boots, wear cute little red kerchiefs around their necks to double as a bib and have little horsies on their diaper? A cowboy baby canít rope, or ride, at least not able to break a bronc, and his steak and beans would have to pureed so he wouldnít get choked. So, why would a rock group want to be a cowboy baby?
Then it hit me, the rock group has actually saying, "I want to be a cowboy, baby." That comma can be very important in a sentence. And, one of these days I hope to learn how to use them. But, that rock cowboy song was a good one. Then another thought hit me, two in one day - country air and manure fumes can do that to you, why donít we have any goat farmer songs? Hey, we do exciting things, too.
All of us may not saddle up and ride out on the range, we just might do a good sturdy walk or climb onto the ATV. And, we might not rope those little doggies. The livestock guard dogs really hate that and they can drag you a good ways, too, before your husband comes to rescue you.
And, we donít usually have lonesome prairies in the east where you can see for miles and miles. You can only look a few feet here before your eyes bump up against a hill side or an awful lot of trees and bushes.
So, I figure this is how our goat farmer song could go, "I want to be a goat farmer, baaaa-beeee. Walking my farm or riding my ATV. Countiní the heads of little goaties and kiddies, dodging the olí rank buck because Iím in his territoreeeeeeeee. I want to be a goat farmer, baaaa-beee." Iím sure it will be a hit.