My father isn't musical. Well, he might be, or rather might have been, if he'd had some ear training. His voice is a lovely baritone, but he never paid attention to pitch. I didn't realize that many talents or aptitudes skip a generation. His mother was a nightingale.

Anyway, when I was little, my dad used to sing me songs in his own funny way. And they were funny songs.

The Happy Wanderer: This German tune exemplifies my father's credo, if there is one. When he sang it, there was always a fond lilt to his voice, a reminiscence about the many spiritual, spirited days he'd spent in the wilderness, and anticipation of more to come. He would sing this when we were hiking, never actually getting past the "valderee, valderah - ha ha ha" before we were cracking up and trying to sing along.

Big Rock Candy Mountain: We kids loved to hear about the "soda-water fountain", the "lemonade springs" and "where the bluebird sings". There are much naughtier lyrics in the original song, like "I'll be damned if I hike any more, to be buggered sore like a hobo's whore", but we were never sung those. I'm pretty sure my dad didn't know them. He eschewed naughtiness of that sort.

Darktown Strutters' Ball: The actual lyrics are:

I'll be down to get you in a taxi, Honey.
Better be ready 'bout half past eight.
Now, Honey, don't be late.
I wanna be there when
the band starts playing

Remember when we get there, Honey
Two step, we're gonna have a ball
I'm gonna dance off both my shoes
When they play those Jelly Roll Blues
Tomorrow night at the Dark Town Strutters Ball.

But my dad reworked them, either as a result of a poor memory or out of silliness. As a kid, hearing my dad sing "I'll be down to get you in a wheelbarrow honey, a taxi costs to darn much money" was just funny. Who picks up their date in a wheelbarrow? Silly Dad!

I bet if I asked, he'd sing them for me again.