Part of this song in Fuffle’s profile made me so happy (taking me back to actually honestly singing it at home!) that I just had to post the song here. Sadly there’s a verse missing because I can’t remember it or find it online. Mom, maybe you could dig out that book and find me the song we learned? Anyway, without further ado, here is:

Acres of Clams

I’ve traveled all over this country,
Prospecting and digging for gold,
I tunneled, hydraulicked and cradled,
And I have been frequently sold.
And I have been frequently sold,
And I have been frequently sold,
I tunneled, hydraulicked and cradled,
And I have been frequently sold.

For one who got wealthy by mining,
I saw many hundreds get poor,
I made up my mind to start digging
For something a little more sure,
For something a little more sure,
For something a little more sure.
I made up my mind to start digging
For something a little more sure.

I rolled up my grub in my blanket,
I left all my tools on the ground,
And started one morning to shank it
For the country they call Puget Sound,
For the country they call Puget Sound,
For the country they call Puget Sound.
And started one morning to shank it
For the country they call Puget Sound.

And now that I’m used to the climate,
I think that if ever man found
A place to live easy and happy
That Eden is on Puget Sound,
That Eden is on Puget Sound,
That Eden is on Puget Sound.
A place to live easy and happy
That Eden is on Puget Sound.

No longer a slave to ambition,
I laugh at the world and its shams,
And I think of my happy condition,
Surrounded by acres of clams,
Surrounded by acres of clams,
Surrounded by acres of clams.
And I think of my happy condition,
Surrounded by acres of clams.

And while we’re on the topic, here’s a tong-twister song, most of it from my memory (that’s why it’s slightly different from the link I provided) that I’m fairly sure is unique to Seattle:

The Goey Duck Song

You can hear the diggers say
As they’re headed for the bay
“Oh I gotta dig a duck,”
“Gotta dig a duck a day,”
“Cause I get a buck a duck,”
“If I dig a duck a day,”
“So I gotta dig a duck,
“Gotta dig a goey duck!”

Dig a duck, dig a duck,
Dig a goey duck,
Dig a duck, dig a goey duck
Dig a duck a day!

Oh, it takes a lot of luck
And a certain kind of pluck
Just to get around the muck
Just to get a goey duck
Cause he doesn’t have a front
And he doesn’t have a back
And he doesn’t know Donald
And he doesn’t go, a-“Quack!”

If you think that’s strange, just try to imagine the tune and me singing it to that tune: very amusing, knowing my singing voice and all. I learned the Goey Duck Song in elementary school and it’s one of the few things from there (barring basic reading, writing, and ‘rithmatic) that have come along with me. I remember one field trip to a beach in… oh, fifth grade or so, where the entire bus ended up singing the Goey Duck Song. It’s really actually pretty hard to sing because the tune goes fast. Yes, it’s silly, but when I think about it I realize how proud I actually am of those distinctly Seattle things – Ivar’s, ferries through the San Juans (one time a ferry captain ran aground trying to show off for his girlfriend; very embarrassing for Washington public transportation), enjoying overcast weather, saying “the mountain’s out today,” being able to orient yourself by if you’re facing the Olympics or the Cascades, knowing goofy songs like Acres of Clams and the Goey Duck Song, not having to wear heavy coats in the winter… The list goes on and on. I really do feel that Seattle is superior to any place I’ve ever been, and I would say I’m fairly well-traveled, at least within the US. It really is an Eden especially as compared to Worcester, the “armpit of the East Coast.” Ah, Western Washington, I (heart) you!

– KF –

Countdown:
43 Days to Ian

4 thoughts on “Keep Clam

  1. Let me be the first to profoundly disagree with you. This has to be *the* single most depressing place on earth. It’s always cloudy but rarely rains! I mean, granted, the gooey duck song rules… but that aside, Seattle is a sucktastical place to be. And all to people are so damn unfriendly! I’m going back to California where I belong!

  2. I’ll have you know New Jersey is considered the “armpit of the East” thank you very much, not just because of its geographical location, appearing as the bottom of the “arm” of New England, but also because we have several cities worse than Worcester in crime, pollution, population density, urban decay, and inner-city bleakness. Not to mention the polluted rivers, Superfund sites, and shady beaches. It’s just the high cost of being able to make the best Texas wieners in the world, have 24-hr diners everywhere (what I miss most in MA), and support 90% of the mafia living in America today. We rule, d00d.

    We will always be attached to our home neighborhoods, no matter how awful anybody else says they are (not speaking for personal experience or anything, *cough cough*). I’ve met some people from some places I wouldn’t consider too great (shores of Massachusetts, rural New Jersey, South Korea, et. al.), but to them, they are awesomeness.

  3. Ricky,
    I think you have extenuating circumstances that are coloring your view of Seattle, eh?

    John,
    I can’t disagree that there are worse places than Worcester. I’m happy to admit that I’ve never been to New Jersey, and probably never will visit there, having no good reason to especially on your high recommendation. Thankfully Woo is the worst I’ve been to, and again while there are other beautiful places too… irrational though it may be, home always *will* be a special place. (I have to say though, the Montana Rockies are pretty amazing, and rural Wisconsin farms also have their down-home appeal.)

  4. My all time fave place is New Mexico… the awesome high deserts with endless panoramic views, totally weird geological formations, DRY heat, etc. The old homes on the East Coast are hands-down better than our house designs out here – except for those darling craftsman bungalows… but I’m with you, Katie, on the joys of having real mountains (yeah- like over 8,000 ft) in view.

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