North Country Tragedy
Come all you Christian people who travel in the north
Who load your Winnebagos and boldly sally forth,
We left the hills of Bloomfield in the merry month of June
And crossed the straits of Mackinaw while the eight track played a tune.
And when we reached St. Ignace the night was dark and dank.
We pulled into a KOA to drain our holding tank,
We dumped the putrid refuse upon the barren ground
Ah, the gurgling in the frosty night, it made a mournful sound.
Next morn we load the minibikes upon the family van
And drove to Sea Shell City to view the giant clam.
Then on we sped to Epiphet from hunger growing weak,
We sought the Golden Arches, a Macmuffined egg to eat.
But all about was wilderness and nasty pasty stores,
Where Shifty Finns and Cousin Jacks did snort and belch and snore.
We cursed that northern wonderland with all its cruel deception,
'cause no matter what the channel we got bad TV reception.
Then on we sped to Engadine and left the lake behind.
We forgot to check the gas gauge which troubled all our minds.
And northward on through Shingleton in that dreary land of woods
The tank ran out of gasoline and the car ran not so good.
And how the children whimpered as dreary night drew on,
Abandoned by the roadside with all provisions gone.
As cruel hunger reared its head we commenced most desperately
To barbecue the poodles, poor Foofoo and Fifi.
And at last we all were rescued, back to Bloomfield Hills we've gone.
Around our yards of astroturf we will sing a jovial song:
"No more I'll go a-wandering where the northern lights unfurl."
And when next I seek adventure I'll stick to Disney World.
Notes from Art Thieme: "Shifty Finns" refers to people from Finland
who migrated to the Upper Peninsula to work in the iron mines.
"Cousin Jacks" are Cornish folks from England who worked in coal mines
in Cornwall before coming to Michigan. Their skills were highly prized
in the deep iron mines of upper Michigan. They brought the PASTY---
(pronounced PASS-TY)---a meat and potatoes pie encased in a dough shell.
You can get great ones up there still. The wives would put very hot coffee in a
metal container for their husbands to take to the mines. Inside that same
container was a second compartment above the coffee where the pasty
would be. The hot coffee would help to keep the dinner warm.
as sung by Art Thieme on the 'The older I get the better I was' CD.