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After a short but
memorable visit to Fruita, Colorado this spring, I knew
I
had to write a song about its most famous resident, Mike
the Headless Chicken. Having little experience writing
a song, I enlisted Carolee Rand to assist me by coming up
with a melody and an arrangement. I knew that Carolee
would treat my lyrics with the sensitivity necessary to convey
the underlying social ramifications of displaying a headless
chicken to the American public. "The Cluck Stops Here:
The Ballad of Mike the Headless Chicken" is a song about
the triumph of a brave chicken over adversity. There's a
message
for
all of us in there somewhere.
The song had its first performance at this year's Tacky
Treasures Road Show. Judging from the audience's reaction,
we decided to take the song on the road. So, for the first
time in about four years, I ventured back to the Appalachian
String Band Music Festival in Clifftop, West Virginia to enter
the non-traditional band competition.
The band, called Road Show, consisted of Carolee, me, and
our respective Bobs (Bob McCluskie and Bob Cantor).
Carolee's voice really carried the song. I predict that her
singing will always be considered the quintessential interpretation
of the song, somewhat like Louis Armstrong's "Mack the
Knife," or Cyndi Lauper's "Girls Just Wanna Have
Fun." I can't picture anyone else singing it.
Bob McCluskie's soulful fiddle playing was a pleasant surprise.
He's not just another old-time fiddle player. And the fiddle
break gave the audience time to catch its breath from all
the laughing.
Bob Cantor played percussion on the shaky egg. He sang backup
on the chorus, and as a bonus, treated the audience to a chicken
dance. He's been telling people ever since that this proves
that he'd do anything for me.
As for my performance, I think my greatest contribution was
writing the lyrics. On stage, I was afflicted with the same
malady that made me change my major in college from music
to library science. Fortunately, my peformance anxiety is
only limited to playing instruments. My banjo playing was
shaky, but my voice was not. At one point, I had my fist in
the air and was encouraging the crowd to sing "Mike!
Mike! Mike! Mike!" along with us.
I would like to thank Lynda Folwick for taking these pictures
during our performance. We had many friends in the audience,
and I think we made some new ones in the process. I dedicated
the performance to the memory of Kelly
Perdue, whose absence was keenly felt by all who knew
him. I know he would have enjoyed the ballad of Mike the
Headless
Chicken; among his many admirable qualities were a sense
of humor and the love of a good story.
Although we didn't win any awards, I'd say our mission was
accomplished. By Friday night, you could hear people all over
the campground discussing Mike the Headless Chicken. I hope
they went back to their communities to spread the word of
this miraculous chicken.
The Cluck Stops Here: The Ballad of Mike the Headless Chicken
©2006, Julianne Mangin, Carol L. Rand
INTRO:
Mike the headless
Mike the headless
Mike the headless chicken! (2x)
He was just another nameless chicken
Scratching in his barnyard pen
Nothing much to live for
Just some food, and a little hen
He didn’t know what a hatchet was
Or what a skillet was for
But one false whack of the farmer’s axe
Made him a metaphor
CHORUS:
MIKE! MIKE! MIKE! MIKE!
Mike the headless chicken
Mike the headless chicken
Mike the headless chicken
Mike the headless chicken*
(*leave off the last word, in the final chorus)
Mike the headless chicken
Lost his head but found his fame
Mike the headless chicken
That’s why he got a name
He was headed for the kitchen
When fortune made its strike
How could they cook a chicken
As remarkable as Mike?
CHORUS
Even folks from far away
Knew the chicken who survived
Mike traveled the sideshow circuit
In 1945
Kept alive by an eyedropper
Food and water down his gullet
He even gained a couple of pounds
Now that’s a healthy pullet
CHORUS
Eighteen months without a head
Was enough for Miracle Mike
He didn’t even get a headstone
I can’t imagine why
He lived and died in the forties
Times were different then
Yet now we have celebrities
With no more brains than him
CHORUS (last) |
A Lil Julie Production