The other day I was driving around Whidbey Island, singing along to the radio, thinking about performing with the Chorus, and I tried to coax my companions to remember those old songs.
Of course we still know all the lyrics to Union Maid and Rote Zora (including the German bits) but between us we could only come up with fragments of Sabotabby Kitten, Coal Tattoo, Dump the Bosses, Bread and Roses.
Finally we gave up and defaulted to Caleb Meyer – there is nothing quite like a murder ballad to round out a bright sunny day of wholesome fun! Why did a union chorus perform that one specifically? Well, we also did The Pill and My Big Iron Skillet.
Yes, it was quite a spectacle, particularly when my (then nine year old) daughter took the solo spot for songs about gender equality and sexual identity.
Now I live in a land where May Day is officially recognized, and I often forget the September stateside nod to the working masses.
Happy Labor Day!