Earlier today I was listening to some Catalan dance music and came across the Catalan version of Skip to my Lou.”
For the folks that never had the pleasure of a “play party” wich was a square dance with only a caller, that one goes something like this,
“Lou, Lou, skip to my Lou,
Lou, Lou, skip to my Loou,
Lost my partner, what’ll I do,
Skip to my Loou My Darlin’.”
Or sometimes it was “flies int the buttermilk,” or “choose a partner,” ut the tune was always the same, skip to my Lou.
The caller calls, and the young folks circle and skip, thee is not a note of that devilish fiddle music, and everyoone has a grand time. Drinking sugar loaded KookAid for energy, eating yeast rolls loaded with pear jelly and coated with a syrum blaze sprinkled with pecan bits – and I just made myself hunger.
The Catalan version is a few notes in the run off, but not by enough to give a good caller a problem. And I have that pretty tune stuck in my ear all afternoon, and can’t shake it out. It’s enogh to make me want to grab my old stomach Steinway and play along with the pretty girl on the tape.
Let me grab a bite and have at it again.