Monthly Archives: April 2012

“Pique et pique et tout les grammes…” French children’s rhyme

Nationality: Am
Age: 22
Occupation: Student
Residence: New York City
Performance Date: April 2012
Primary Language: English
Language: French

Pique et pique et tout les grammes
Bora bora ratatam
Ans, vam, dram
Pique et pique et tout les grammes 

This is the French equivalent of “eeny meeny miney mo,” a rhyme used to pick a person for something, like who will be “it” in a game of tag, for example. It’s said in the same tune/rhythm as the American version. My informant went to elementary school in Paris, France, and this was done every recess. To do it, everyone gets in a circle and puts their foot in the middle. Whoever’s in charge taps each foot one at a time while everyone chants. On the last word, whoever’s foot she’s pointing to is “it.”

When I asked my informant what it meant, she shrugged, “I’m pretty sure it’s just nonsense. People say it differently, like I recently talked to another French girl who knew it as, “piquee piquee colegram, bour et bour et rata tam, ans vam dram piquee piquee colegram.” That doesn’t mean anything either. It’s exactly like eeny meeny miney mo, except no one knows how to spell it.”

The Story of Josh Friar

Nationality: American
Age: 22
Occupation: Student
Residence: Albany, NY
Performance Date: April 2012
Primary Language: English

This story is told at a summer camp in rural Pennsylvania.

Over by the lake, there used to be a huge house. It belonged to a man named Josh Friar. Josh was a very strange man, and very reclusive. He stayed in his house all year round, only leaving once a month to do his shopping in Towanda (the local town.) The townspeople always waited expectantly for his visit every month, for although he was strange and a recluse, every month he would have a new, beautiful woman with him. Blonde women, brunette woman, tall woman, short women–all different, and all stunning. One month Josh brought a particular beauty into town. She had fiery red hair, and bright green eyes. Everyone agreed she was the most beautiful woman Josh had ever brought. 

The next month, however, Josh didn’t come to town. Nor did he the next month. On the third month that Josh did not come to town, the townspeople decided to form a party and go check on him. They hiked out to the lake in the woods, and knocked on Josh’s door. There was no answer, but the door was unlocked. The men shrugged and opened it. Immediately they were overpowered by a hideous stench. It was so vile that several of the men ran outside and vomited. Despite the smell, several men still went inside. As they entered the dark house, the smell got worse and worse. Some had to leave because they couldn’t take it. Finally, someone found a light switch. When they turned it on, one of the men screamed. Everything in the house–the carpet, the walls, the furniture, everything–was covered in human flesh. It was so awful that some of the grown men cried or ran away. The few that remained decided they had to keep looking for Josh. They saw a staircase, and started to climb. As they climb, the smell got worse and worse. One man passed out. Finally, they reached the top of the stairs, and opened the door. Inside the room, sitting on a rocking chair, was the beautiful redheaded woman. And in her lap was the head of Josh Friar.

And one some dark nights, like this one, they say that he still walks these woods–the decapitated Josh Friar, searching for his head, with nothing but a green lantern, the same green as the bright green eyes of the woman who killed him.
This was a ghost story told at my informant’s childhood summer camp every year, usually at a bonfire on the Fourth of July. The camp policies didn’t allow most traditions, such as camp songs or stories, except for this and a few more told only on this night. Only one of the oldest, most experienced campers  will be allowed to tell the story, and every year, the camper with the honor does his or her best to make it new and exciting, even though everyone knows the story already.

At the last part, a green light will start flashing from the woods behind the speaker, to the screams of campers. This is done by another senior camper, and it is considered an honor.

The Story of Raggedy Ann of Towanda, PA

Nationality: American
Age: 22
Occupation: Student
Residence: Albany, NY
Performance Date: April 2012
Primary Language: English

There was once a young woman named Ann, who lived in the rural town of Towanda, Pennsylvania, with her parents, who loved her very much. They would always say to her, “Just remember, Ann, if you ever get into any trouble, any trouble at all, just run home. Run straight home, and we’ll be here.” One night Ann was driving out by the woods. A deer sprang out onto the road, and Ann, swerving to miss it, crashed her car. In the crash, the glass from the windshield shattered, and split through either side of her neck. Ann stumbled out of the car and ran home, but as she ran, her mostly-severed neck flopped back and forth–flip-flop, flip-flop, flip-flop. Her parents found her and rushed her to the hospital, but somehow in the crash Ann lost her mind and went insane. Her parents put her in a mental institute. One night, Ann escaped, so that she could run home to her parents. And on some nights, you just might see her, running through the woods, her head going flip-flop, flip-flop, flip-flop.

This was a ghost story told at my informant’s childhood summer camp every year, usually at a bonfire on the Fourth of July. The camp policies didn’t allow most traditions, such as camp songs or stories, except for this and a few more told only on this night. Only one of the oldest, most experienced campers  will be allowed to tell the story, and every year, the camper with the honor does his or her best to make it new and exciting, even though everyone knows the story already.

On the last line– “flip-flop, flip-flop, flip-flop”, Raggedy Ann herself comes running across through the words, her head flopping back and forth, to the screams of the campers. This is always another senior camper, and it’s considered an honor to play the part.

Friday

Nationality: American
Age: 11
Occupation: Child
Residence: Frisco, Texas
Performance Date: April 9, 2012
Primary Language: English

Lawson Franklin Echols-Richter

Houston, Texas

April 9, 2012

Folklore Type: Riddle

Informant Bio: Lawson is my youngest cousin. He is eleven years old. He is from Frisco, Texas and has lived there his whole life. Lawson is the younger of two boys, and both of his parents are Methodist Pastors. He enjoys video games and showing off his skills of dancing and flipping a fedora onto his head. I call him The Dude.

Context: I saw Lawson briefly with his father when my grandfather (not ours) passed away. I asked him what were some jokes he had been learning at school. He said he could not remember any jokes, but he knew a few riddles.

Item: A couple rode into town on Friday. They stayed for three days, and then rode back on Friday. How? The couple’s horse was named Friday.

Informant Analysis: He said sarcasm than anything else, and I would actually say kinda funny.

Analysis: Even though I heard this riddle when I was a child, it took me a moment to get it because I forgot that they rode in on a horse and not a car. Albeit that is part of the riddle, however, it is also something a southerner might get a bit faster than people from big cities or places up north that do not ride horses. Not all Texans ride horses, but they are around. This riddle is an example of a child playing with words and leaving out certain details because he never mentioned what exactly the couple rode into town on. I also think there is a bit of country cultural flare because country people are more likely to figure out Friday is a horse because they are around them more often.

Alex Williams

Los Angeles, California

University of Southern California

ANTH 333m   Spring 2012

 

 

Flipping two Cigarettes, “One for luck…”

Nationality: American
Age: 22
Occupation: Student
Residence: New York City
Performance Date: April 2012e
Primary Language: English

When you buy a new pack of cigarettes, you take two out and flip them upside down, and smoke those two last. It’s “one for luck, and one for fuck” — one for good luck, and one to smoke after you’ve had sex, often to share with the person.

This is a common tradition among many smokers, especially in New York. My informant first heard it in early high school, from girls that would smoke between classes. She’s been doing it as long as she’s been smoking.

Since smoking is generally considered a vice, I think it’s probably a way to ‘negate’ that, and make it something ‘lucky’ and good.