Say Say Oh Playmate. Hand Clapping Songs and Games: For My Personal Historical Record of the Covid19 Pandemic

I knocked on the window and waved and tried to coax her out to the front porch to sit 6 feet apart for a little YiaYia-Harper time. Suddenly I started singing but then realized it was not a song she knew. Even Amelia didn't recognize it. I couldn't even remember all the words, but I remembered the hand-claps that go with it. 

Say, say, oh playmate,

Come out and play with me

And bring your dollies three

Climb up my apple tree

Slide down your rainbow

Into my cellar door

And we'll be jolly friends

Forever more more more more more

   Of course I found the words via the internet machine. There are many variations and additional verses. But in the first two traditional verses, the rainbow versus rain barrel is often noted. Modern houses don't have cellar doors or rain barrels.

   The second verse?? That's what really hit me in this time of a viral pandemic. My dolly's got the FLU???

Say, say, oh playmate

I cannot play with you

My dolly's got the flu

Boo hoo hoo hoo hoo hoo

Ain't got no rainbow

Ain't got no cellar door

But we'll be jolly friends

Forever more more more more more

   I found the song in my old WeeSing songbooks, with clapping instructions: Start at "Play"

Slap knees, clap own hands, clap partner's hands, clap own hands. Repeat

Can add: slap knees twice, clap own hands twice, clap partner's hands once, partners clap backs of hands together once, clap partner's hands once, clap own hands once

   I found an article on the history of the song. The song is more than 100 years old! There's a Willie Nelson version. There's some really creepy versions with extra verses about death and enemies. There's a big band version by Kay Kyser and orchestra. There's a 1955 version by the Fontaine Sisters. Look up a really cool interpretation with clapping, by singer Ambre McLean. Somehow, it seems that in all the versions, everyone remains friends forever more more more more more.

   I felt like I'd better write down this story. I've heard we should record our experiences for the someday-told history of this pandemic. Yes, we're in the middle of a pandemic. Covid19. Coronavirus. Isolated in our homes until who knows when, while the science people figure out how this virus works, and test treatments, and develop and test a vaccine. Meanwhile, people are very sick, or are worried about getting sick. We worry and we're scared. For ourselves and for our families who we can't even hug. 

I miss my grandkids and long to hold their little hands. 

I worry about friends and strangers. I worry about the health care workers, the scientists in their labs, the newspeople covering the stories, the people stuck in isolation with abusive partners, the women giving birth during a pandemic, the people with no "home" to go to, the people attempting to isolate in small spaces. The list goes on. 

   There's no joy in Mudville - or if there is, it's hard to find. There's no hand clapping allowed unless you're at least 6 feet apart or hanging out your apartment windows to thank the doctors and nurses as they leave their hospitals. 

   But we can still sing songs and I know Harper is singing her own songs, as she has for years. These days, she loves watching the singing contest shows and tells us we should watch them too. 

   So yes, we still can sing songs. Even when we can't remember all the words. Even if the version I remember is different from the version you remember. Even if we're looking into the window from the front porch.

Oh playmate. Come out and play with me!