If you’re a parent in search of kid’s music that you can enjoy, may I suggest, Lunch Money? For some reason, they have yet to do a polished video of their hit song, A Cookie as Big as My Head, though I did find a pirate recording on You Tube.
I could dance to that. Check their site for a more polished video of their song, Spicy Kid.
I don’t know why I love kid’s music and stories – at least good kid’s music and stories. Maybe it’s true that you never lose your first love.
To those who are saying it’s because I’m childish – I’m not listening. What’s more: I’m rubber, you’re glue; insults bounce off me and stick on you!
As far as stories are concerned, my fist love was Puffy (the Puppy) by Georgianna (1952.) It was a Tell-a-Tales book, which was probably a rival to Golden Books. Back then, rivalry was allowed, before a certain mouse-themed empire vacuumed up our cultural heritage. Disney probably owns the rights to Puffy now as they have (as official corporate sponsors of the NSA) high-hoseyed the rights to the works of every dead author since the Epic of Gilgamesh.
I understand that the Code of Hammurabi has been renamed in recent social studies books to the It’s a Small World Code of Hammurabi. As we speak the code is being put to endlessly repetitive music to be the background sound to the Hanging Gardens exhibit in Disney’s new World Domination Theme Park. The world is getting uncomfortably small, after all.
I see this kind of action by a company founded by the creator of Bambi, Dumbo, and Snow White, and I wonder: WWWD (What Would Walt Do?)
What the heck! I haven’t been sued in a while. Here is Puffy.
Puffy the Puppy is fat and well fed;
Puffy the Puppy is asleep on his bed.
His eyes are shut tight, his long ears are dragging;
Even his fat little tail has stopped wagging.
Puffy belongs to a small boy named Tommy.
And Tommy belongs to his daddy and mommy.
Puffy’s awake now and ready for fun;
He looks out the window and barks at the sun.
He eats all his breakfast, then runs out to play;
He chases a kitten – and rolls in the hay.
He plays ball with Tommy, then goes for a ride
In Tommy’s red cart with balloons on each side.
Puffy barks to go fishing with Tommy and Dad,
And when they don’t take him he’s dreadfully sad.
Buy look, Puffy, see, there’s a squirrel to chase
Up the tree to her hiding place.
No Puffy’s hungry, he sits up and begs
On his fat little bottom and two hind legs
Puffy the Puppy is fat and well fed:
Puffy is ready to curl up in bed.
He stretches and yawns, then shuts his eyes tight
And sleeps cozy and warm till the sun’s shining bright.
I have no idea if it’s good poetry or not – it’s too close to me, but as I love it. I would like to see it preserved – even if it is by that DIC (Disney Imperial Corporation.)
Or even better – if Puffy has managed to slip through the big D’s fingers, maybe Lunch Money could put it to music.
I could dance to that.