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Songwriter
01/10/08
Songwriter
Owen has taken up songwriting. He will strike up a tune in the back of the van on almost every outing. He usually intermingles gibberish in his lyrics along with real words and phrases, rhyming isn't essential and the style is erratic. What seems to remain consistent is his subject matter. He has been composing a series of songs that contain the phrase "Jump Into the Trees." He will sometimes change the phrase to "Jump into the House" but he always calls them his "Jump Into the Trees" songs. Yesterday I tried to type while he sang a couple of his compositions. I couldn't keep up with all of the "words" but here is what I got:
Jump into the trees
Ja ja ja ja jump
Ja ja ja ja jump
Bum ba dum bad um
I love to sing
Zaliwink to jalawink
Chuck a chuck a ch ch
Ratza fa
Fella bada puh puh
Jump in to the tree
Jump in to the tree
Jump in to the house house house!
Jump Into the House
Zoolaranda hey hey hey
Vasarah puh
Yeah! Alagant puhuh
Pada gatrapa
Jonaloona baby
Spin around in all of the circles
Circles!
Circles!!
Albaranazan, albaranazan
Bojanacan
Jump in to the house
Jump in to the house!
I'm not sure where he gets his inspiration but these are definitely worth hanging onto.
He also dances. When and if I can ever put video on this blog I will post some of his incredible movements. Ivan got a little guitar for Christmas and Owen likes to play it and dance like a rock star. It's pretty amazing.
2 comments
"Birches" (excerpt) by Robert FrostOne by one he subdued his father's trees
By riding them down over and over again
Until he took the stiffness out of them,
And not one but hung limp, not one was left
For him to conquer. He learned all there was
To learn about not launching out too soon
And so not carrying the tree away
Clear to the ground. He always kept his poise
To the top branches, climbing carefully
With the same pains you use to fill a cup
Up to the brim, and even above the brim.
Then he flung outward, feet first, with a swish,
Kicking his way down through the air to the ground.
So was I once myself a swinger of birches.
And so I dream of going back to be.
It's when I'm weary of considerations,
And life is too much like a pathless wood
Where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebs
Broken across it, and one eye is weeping
From a twig's having lashed across it open.
I'd like to get away from earth awhile
And then come back to it and begin over.
May no fate willfully misunderstand me
And half grant what I wish and snatch me away
Not to return. Earth's the right place for love:
I don't know where it's likely to go better.
I'd like to go by climbing a birch tree,
And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk
Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more,
But dipped its top and set me down again.
That would be good both going and coming back.
One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.
Hey Mary. I was just browsing the Owen site, as I haven't checked it in a while, and when I read this I thought you should set up a little Kelso Family YouTube site. Then you can show little home movies that way. I know a lot of people with video cameras who do that. 
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