Posted by: Rob | March 14, 2010

The Jack Pine Savage

Jack Pine Savages was a moniker bestowed upon himself and his peers by my late step-father-in-law F.  I suspect it alluded quite heavily to the nature of the wild and woolly days of his youth.  The nickname stuck with him all of his life.  He died just over two years ago now, less than three months after his wife, my late wife’s mother, succumbed to ALS.

For some reason, I was recently thinking about some of the risqué poems and songs that F used to sing, usually during evenings when much socializing with family and friends was going on in the kitchen of their farm house.

Even in this age of electronic information, much of what was in the heads of our elders is being lost because no one is recording it or memorizing it.

Not that the sort of thing I was recalling has all that much cultural relevancy.  More like echoes of another time.

Of course, I wasn’t able to commit much of F’s ditties and poems to memory.  All I have are snippets.

Like the one about the couple fitting stove pipe.  To a casual listener, the conversation would have sounded like the pair were endeavouring to engage in that basic of human acts: sexual intercourse.

Or another, the point of which escapes me, but suggests a bit of back and forth a young man might have had about the possible purchase of sexual favours.  The only line I recall goes something like:

So I’ll lay in the sand,

Do it by hand

And buy bonds with the money I save.

Internet searches revealed little (but p0rn sites) in the way of more complete renditions of these.

I was able to find a variant of an ode to one’s penis that F used to recite:

My courting days are over,
My tail light has gone out,
What used to be my pride and joy,
Is now my water spout,

There was a time when, on its own,
From my trousers it would spring,
But now it’s just a full-time job,
To find the blasted thing.

It used to make me crazy,
To make that thing behave,
For every single morning,
It would stand and watch me shave.

But now I’m getting older,
And it sure makes me blue,
To see it hang its little head,
And watch me shine my shoes.

And, as an added bonus, the wonder of the internet has allowed me to bring you this (which F never sang, at least not in my presence):

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Responses

  1. i enjoy the old ditties – so risque in their time, they now seem almost lame under today’s accepted norms…

  2. I dunno, this one still seems pretty risque. NSFW, anyway. Would fit in perfectly on the forum I post most often to on Ravelry. In fact I might have to go post it there.

    In other news, I’ve given you an award, just for the halibut.

    • Thank you silverstar. I have been quite remiss in not acknowledging same. I have no excuses, other than to say that “life is happening” and it’s pushed blogging and blog reading way down the list.

  3. cute video


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