Finished two rough drafts in the last week, including one yesterday that has spent a full year kicking my ass - middle grade books are hard! This one was especially tricky, because I had to figure out what sort of "world" it inhabited.

The book, "Lost and Found" is about a kid who wants to be a spy and tries to break into the lost and found room. I had to figure if this was going to be the kind of book where...

... the lost and found room turns out to have some sort of treasure in it
... there's really nothing there but old mittens
or
... it turns out to be only the antechamber to a secret room where the janitor is holding a polka band hostage.

In other words, is the kid REALLY spy, does he just THINK he's a spy, or what? There are a lot of subtle choices that have a huge impact on how the book works as a whole here.

I tried it each of those ways (and a few more, besides) before finding the right way to do it. But, after draft upon draft, I've got one that I'm excited about.


And now I don't know what the heck to do with myself this morning. Hence, I'm working on some new Back Row Hooligans songs. I have a real itch to do another album right now, and hoping this'll cure it.

Here's a new song for today; I don't think it'd fit in on the album, but I sort of want to record it just because it would really fun to film a video for it. It's an instructional dance number.

THE POUR IT ON YOUR HEAD POLKA

Take a gallon of milk and pour it on your head, pour it on your head
a bottle of cola, gotta pour it on your head, pour it on your head
nice, cold lemonade, pour it on your head
iced vanilla latte, pour it on your head
and don't blame me when you get grounded!

Take a bowl of dog food, pour it on your head, pour it on your head
a box of cereal gotta pour it on your head, pour it on your head
refreshing apple juice, pour it on your head
communion wine, pour it on your head
and don't blame me when they kick you out of church!

My music teacher in first grade had a Raffi record with the song "The Old Woman All Skin and Bones," which I later learned was an old, traditional song:

There was an old woman all skin and bones (oooooooh)
she lived down by the old graveyard (oooooh)
one night she thought she'd take a walk (oooooh)
she walked down by the old graveyard (ooooh)
she saw the bones all scattered round (oooooh)
she went to the closet to get a broom (oooooh)
she opened the door and BOO!

Many of the kids in my class were pretty much terrified of it - one friend of mine used to complain "I can see it my brain!" and, when he found that one of the stories in the book "In a Dark Dark Room" was based on it, he threw the book across the room. By the time he was in seventh grade, he was into black metal.

Anyway, as October comes around, I always think of the song - once or twice I've even made passengers on my ghost tours sing it. And last night I remembered that we dealt with our fear of the song in the most natural way in the world: we made fun of it.

I wrote up a song called "the old woman who drank skim milk (eeeeew)." It went on and on about some disgusting drink she made. It was sort of an offshoot of the veritable gang war that was going on in my class at lunchtime between kids who 2% milk (like me) and those who drank skim. We thought that skim was gross, and the kids who drank skim thought that the 2% milk would make us all obese by second grade.

Anyway, i only remembered about two lines of the song I wrote, but the concept is solid enough to merit a quick fill-in-the-cracks job. Now that I've outggrown my skim milk fear, I've changed it to "old milk," which I guess we can all agree is gross.

So here it is - the new Back Row Hooligans song. I wrote it when I was seven.

THE OLD LADY WHO DRANK OLD MILK

There was an old lady who drank old milk (ew, ew, ew)
She kept it underneath her bed (ew, ew, ew)
it turned all yellow, it turned all sour (ew, ew, ew)
it started turning into cheese (ew, ew, ew)
She poured it in a dirty glass (ew, ew, ew)
and mixed it up with pickle juice (ew, ew, ew)
and then she added pepper, too (ew, ew, ew)
she blended it with three raw eggs (ew, ew, ew)
and put it in the microwave (ew, ew, ew)
it made her house smell just like feet (ew, ew, ew)
that someone rubbed against a butt (ew, ew, ew)
she stirred and let it cool a bit (ew, ew, ew)
she took one sip and BLEECHHH!


I imagine I could probably make this a whole lot longer, if I felt like it...

Happy October, everybody!

Rewrote the "Babyfight" song to make it tighter and maybe a bit funnier. I haven't decided whether to do it "deceptively sweet" or actually rap it. I am, however, quite proud of coming up with the notion of a "teething grill." Anyone wanna go into business?


STRAIGHT OUTTA DAYCARE
(copyright 2007 by adam selzer, all rights reserved, ASCAP, etc)

Straight outta daycare - my baby brother’s only one and a half
but he’s a heck of a fighter it’s true - don’t laugh
and all day long he gets hugged and kissed
by people who’ve forgotten I even exist
but they only think he’s a sweet little thing
cause they haven’t seen him in the babyfighting ring
that I’ll run in my basement in the middle of the night
we’ll root scream and cheer as the babies fight
I’ll bet my brother can beat anyone anywhere
he’s one tough cookie and he’s comin’ straight outta daycare


You don’t wanna mess now, because he’s the master
a pacifier full of pain a diaper full of disaster
he’ll do battle with a rattle, he’s fighting and lean
mom and dad would never guess that he was so mean
but I’ll bet they won’t think that he’s so sweet
when they see him beat up every other baby on the street
I know that he’s tought, cause he bit me last night
he only has a few teeth, but he sure can bite
he’ll be the other babies’ worst nightmare
he’s already mine, and he’s comin’ straight outta daycare


Mom and day say babyfights aren’t legal at all
and babies can’t fight , they can barely even crawl
and they say they love me just as much as they love him
I must admit, for a minute there, it sure looked grim
So I’m gonna be the best big brother in town
I’m gonna show my brother how to break it down
I won’t make him fight, but I can still
teach him everything I know, get him a teething grill
and a tricked out trike, I’m take him everywhere
he’ll be king of the sandbox, and he’ll be comin straight outta daycare

The Back Row Hooligans

Another Back Row Hooligans song - I have ALMOST enough rough drafts to start work on an album now, I think. I may play a few songs tonight at the Mercury Cafe if I don't have to go on a ghost investigation.


SHARING IS FOR COMMUNISTS!
(a Back Row Hooligans song by Adam Selzer. All rights reserved, ASCAP, etc)

Fine. I'll eat my spinach!
even though it tastes like dirt
And I'll read, even though reading
always makes my eyeballs hurt.
I'll get along with the nerd next door
I'll even do my chores
but you see, mom, there's one thing
I won't do anymore:

Sharing with my brother is something I won't do!
Come on, Mom, do I look like a communist to you?
That's what they do in Cuba, and in Red China, too!
So sharing with my brother is something I won't do!

If I let him just use my toys,
well that's a slippery slope
it'll only make him lazy!
and he'll turn into a dope!
He'll grow up to be a bum
living on the dole
Come on, mom, do you want your baby
on the welfare rolls?

Sharing with my brother is something I won't do!
Come on, Mom, do i look like a communist to you?
if I let my wealth trickle down, well that would me me RED!
Didn't you ever listen to a word that Reagan said?

bridge:
It's not that I don't care about him
I just want him to learn
that there aren't any handouts in America
toys are something that you have to EARN!

Sharing with my brother is something I won't do!
Come on, Mom, do I look like a communist to you?
I had to WORK to get my toys, through tantrums, tears, and pleas
Tell him to get his OWN toys - then HE can share with ME!

SONG TO A BRATTY LITTLE SISTER

(copyright 2007 by adam selzer, ascap, etc)

I know you've been in my room again
because all my best stuff's missing
and only you would make it so
my army men were kissing
They're not dolls! They're action figures!
they're not supposed to act that way!
And I know you NEVER get in trouble
but one of these days
I'm gonna be a dinosaur
I'm gonna be a dinosaur
I'm gonna be a dinosaur
and youuuuuu'rrrrreeee
the first person I'll eat!

When you grow up, you can be
whatever you want to be
and I'm gonna be a giant lizard!
that's the life for me!
If a brontosaurus had a bratty sister
she'd probably just get stomped
but I’m gonna be a tyranosaurus
and you’re going to get CHOMPED!
I'm gonna be a dinosaur
I'm gonna be a dinosaur
I'm gonna be a dinosaur
and youuuuuu'rrrrreeee
the first person I'll eat!

You'll be putting my teddy bear
into girly clothes
and I'll chomp right through you (and I'll bet
you turn out to be GROSS!)
I’m gonna be a dinosaur
I’m gonna be a dinosaur
I’m gonna be a dinosaur
and youuuuuu'rrrrreeee
the first person I'll eat!


The Back Row Hooligans

In honor of this blessed day, here's a Back Row Hooligans song:

PIRATES ALWAYS CHEAT AT BINGO
(copyright 2007 by Adam Selzer, all rights reserved, ASCAP, etc)


I had to go with grandma to bingo night last week
at a place out on the highway that I don’t mind saying reeks
the ladies there wear too much lipstick, and every last one smokes
I’m always scared that any minute, one of them will croak
but imagine my surprise when we got to the parking lot
and right beside her old sedan, a pirate ship was docked!
Real live pirates! Wow! I could not believe my eyes!
But grandma only groaned, and told me with a sigh

chorus: “pirates always cheat at bingo”
every week, it’s the same darn think you know
the pirates always cheat at bingo
then sail off with the winnings
singing
yo ho ho!


We sat down with some ladies who had really nasty breath
while the pirates shouted noisily about bloody guts and death
“I really wish they’d go away,” said a woman to my right
“every week the bingo game turns into a fight
I used to be a fighter, too, back in my younger days
but now, of course I’m satisfied to just come here and play!
Plus, they all smell terrible, and you all know that’s true”
And as the game began I very nearly told her “so do you!”

chorus

And so the game got started, we stared at our bingo cards
and every time they called a number, the pirates would go “YARR!”
one walked up to the caller, and said “hey, listen, Hank!
If the next one’s not 0-64, you’re gonna walk the plank!”
And so he called “0-64!” and the pirates yelled and cheered
and the meanest pirate of them all said “I have a bingo here!”
but then I looked down at my card, and I swear to you it’s true
I stood up and bravely said “I have a bingo, too!”

chorus

I was afraid the pirates were going to be sore
but it turned out no one else had ever tied with them before
They shouted to me “yar! congrats, ye scurvy scalawag!
you really ought to come and sail beneath a pirate flag!”
They offered me an eyepatch and really sweet tattoo
and all the candy I could eat if I would join their crew
I said “sure! I can’t wait to go! This will be so cool!”
So I was out with them. That’s why I’m late for school!

chorus

Had a long, long dream involving digging things out of my great-grandparents' home. It was a long, complicated basement, full of false walls, hidden doors, and stuff like that. Not unlike many of the ghost investigations I go on, actually.

But, deep down in the basement, was a lagoon containing the St. Jean Baptiste, a ship some of my ancestors came over on. It was full of skeletons, including some of my ancestors, and one that was said, according to family legend, to be that of Tom Lehrer (who, for the record, is still alive). Only it wasn't a passenger ship, like the historical one, but a pirate ship. A pirate ship in the basement! Just like in The Goonies!

It was a fine, fine way to start a happy Talk Like a Pirate Day!

Also, some of the documents I had relating to the legend described one of Lehrer's songs, but the song described doesn't actually exist. So, well, finders keeper! I'll just be plunderin' this one for the use of The Back Row Hooligans.

Here's another Back Row Hooligans song in progress. The tune, at the moment, is somewhere between "The Death of Me Yet" and "The Band Played Waltzing Matilda." I'm almost to the 20 song mark!


THE THREE BEAN CASSEROLE WAR
(copyright 2007 by adam selzer, all rights reserved, ascap, people who steal get carried away by spiders, etc)


They served a three bean casserole at lunchtime one day
and which three beans they were, well no one could say
but on that cold november, this one kid named tim
got angry at Mike, and threw a handful at him
and so began the nightmare I’ll never forget

That was the day of the three bean casserole war
there were three kinds of beans smeared on every last inch of the floor
it clung to the wall like the stickiest paste
it ruined your clothes and it stuck to your face
many good kids got messy in the three bean casserole war

Mike threw some back, and soon everyone else did too
and I grabbed some myself, for I didn't know what else to do
I was shorter than most kids in the next grade below me
but if you think that mattered, then man, you don't know me
I held my own, and came out nearly perfectly clean

I'm a decorated vet of the three bean casserole war
the food fight more terrible than any imagined before
one by one, I watched my comrades fall
but somehow my shirt didn't get stained at all
though I ruined my shoes in the three bean casserole war

when we ran out of cass’role to throw, the fight came to an end
having turned brother ‘gainst brother, and friend against friend
and they cleaned up the beans, and the gunk and the stains
but for several long weeks, a distinct smell remained
which just might have been even worse if we’d eaten the beans

That we ended up throwing in the three bean casserole war
that cost many students their recess for two weeks or more
when the janitor first came and looked at the place
he screamed at us til he was blue in the face
for the damage we caused in three bean casserole war

Now every november, during our lunchtime at school
there are kids who remember, and some even say it was cool
they remember the glory of the messy campaign
they've forgotten the heartache, the stench and the pain
and that tim was still angry at mike - not a darn thing had changed

Have we learned nothing, from the three bean casserole war?
I swore on that day, that I'd never throw food anymore
but I hear my old comrades, I can’t help but sigh
for the first graders hear them just bursting with pride
and I know that they dream of their own three bean casserole war

Remember, remember the three bean casserole war
there were three kinds of beans smeared on every last inch of the floor
it clung to the wall like the stickiest paste
it ruined your clothes and it stuck to your face
I've never really felt clean since the three bean casserole war

Since I don't have the pics ready for a Dragoncon report, I thought I'd post the current draft of the lyrics to a Back Row Hooligans song.


A GOOD OLD FASHIONED BABYFIGHT!
copyright 2007 by Adam Selzer, all rights reserved, ASCAP, etc

All day long, my baby brother's hugged and kissed
by people who seem like they've forgotten I exist
but no one will say "oh, he's the sweetest little thing!"
after they've seen him in a babyfighting ring!

come on over to my basement in the middle of the night
to root, scream and cheer at the babyfight!
mom and dad won't think my baby brother's so sweet
when they see that he can beat up every other baby on the street!

We’ve already started training, every day after lunch
he doesn’t have much speed, but he throws a wicked punch
I’ll put him to work, even in the freezing winter cold
he’s never worked so hard (of course, he’s only three months old)

come on over to my basement in the middle of the night
there's nothing more exciting than a babyfight!
mom and dad won't think my baby brother's so sweet
when they see that he can beat up every other baby on the street!

"In one corner," says the sportscaster
"with a bottle full of rage, a diaper full of disaster
doing battle with his rattle, it's little baby shane
weighing in at 10 pounds, 12 ounces of pain!
he'll be fighting against Timmy, the baby down the block
gather round and cheer as little Shane cleans Timmy's clock!
oh! I'll bet his mom won't think he's so cuddly now
that he's the babyfighting champ of the entire town!"

come on over to my basement in the middle of the night
place your bets at the door for the babyfight
mom and dad won't think my baby brother's so sweet
when they see that he can beat up every other baby on the street!

My parents say that babyfights aren't legal at all
and babies can't fight - they can barely even crawl
My parents say that they still love me just as much as him
and I feel better, but I think he should at least still beat up Tim!

I still give him lessons every single night
and for a little baby, he's doing all right
if I train him hard enough, once he gets up on his feet
my brother’s gonna be the strongest baby on the street!


I have a hunch that, in a song about making babies fight each other for fun and profit, it's the line about gambling that people will complain about.
Back Row Hooligans.com
Adam Selzer.com

This morning, Grand Avenue smelled exactly like Lake Okoboji in Northern Iowa. Haven't been there in 13 years (probably just about to the day), but I recognized the smell right away.


Ended up writing two songs yesterday, "Aunt Judith Smokes" "Never Go Exploring In the Toilet." Today I've done a rough draft for "We Built a Fort (And Seceded From the Union)." I might end up doing TWO albums at once - one of "appropriate songs" and one of "inappropriate songs." I think they're ALL pretty much appropriate (or, anyway, they have a solid moral center), but it might just be good business.

I suddenly have it in my head to do an album of songs for kids. But, uh, kinda messed up songs.

Would parents absolutely, positively have a fit if their kids heard songs like "Glumpy The Elf Who Got Drunk and Sawed His Leg Off," or would they see it the moral behind it?

Lyrics (tune of Frosty the Snow Man):

Glumpy, the poor elf
hit the bottle once again
and he stumbled 'round through the streets in town
puking every now and then

"I don't have a problem!"
is what Glumpy always said
but the elves would watch as he guzzled scotch
and they'd frown and shake their heads

There must have been some hard stuff in the bottle he just quaffed
for as he worked there at his bench, he sawed his leg right off!

Glumpy, the poor elf
has to hop, not walk, today
though he's known to hope, like a drunken dope
that it might grow back some day

Gluggety glug glug, gluggety glug glug, look at Glumpy go!
Gluggety glug glug, gluggety glug glug, hobbling through the snow!