"Hello Muddah, Hello Fadduh. Here I am, at Camp Granada."
Just writing out the words puts this 1963 Grammy-award winning jingle back in my brain.
I'm told most folks know about this famous camp song, which makes me feel bad, so let's pretend I'm not sheltered and am fully qualified to write about this tune that dates back 50 years. "Camp Granada" was inspired by the son of writer and co-creator Allan Sherman.
It stayed famous for years, even going so far as allowing Sherman to appear on The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson to perform the song, which is kind of a big deal. While this song has survived five decades and continues to be taught to this day, it got me thinking of songs I actually learned when I was at my family's cabin in the small town of St. Mary's, Montana.
I have fond memories of sitting around the fire pit and, being the youngest at the time, trying to annoy my older sister as much as possible. This was an easy feat, especially since all I had
Scan this picture with the Layar app to listen to the original version of the song "Camp Granada," by Allan Sherman. to do was start singing the massively popular "Kumbaya" or the infinitely hilarious (to an eight-year-old) time-waster "The Song That Never Ends."
Both songs I learned around a campfire from my father and brother, who themselves were taught from someone else around another campfire. It almost feels like camp songs are the last surviving form of ancient storytelling (before the written word, that is), in which stories and historical accounts are passed on through generations of storytellers around a fire pit.
There's an itch in all of us (admit it) when sitting around a fire pit to either tell stories or sing a song. There's something innate, prodding at our minds to deliver something, anything over the night's flame.
Even in this modern age I still feel a desire to go out camping, and there's something to be said about camp songs. They have lasted through the times and evoke a sense of camaraderie among those who learned them. It's a shared experience, which can be experienced again and again, together.
Contributing writer
