An Abolone Pounding Song

An Abalone Song (from the 1930s)

"Oh some like ham and some like jam

And some like macaroni.

But our tom-cat, he lives on fat

And juicy abalone."

 

Some more from this site: http://www.montereypeninsula.info/history/abalone.htm

The Abalone song was composed in Carmel around 1907 by writer George Sterling and his friends. Abalone requires that it be thoroughly pounded for it to be edible. To relieve the monotony of the work, they sang this song while they pounded, making up verses as they went along. The rule was that the song must be sung while pounding abalone, but never at any other time. The song gained some notoriety beyond Carmel  as Carl Sandburg included it in a music history book entitled The American Songbag.

The above verse is attributed to George Sterling himself, as are these two:

Oh, some think that the Lord is fat,
And some think he is bony,
But as for me, I think that he,
Is like an abalone.

Oh, some drink rain, and some champagne,
And whisky by the pony,
But I will try a dash of rye,
And a hunk of abalone.
Jack London wrote this verse:

The more we take, the more they make,
In deep-sea matrimony,
Race suicide will ne'er betide,
The fertile abalone.
And here's a few more by authors undetermined:

Oh some folks boast of quail on toast,
Because they think it's tony,
But I'm content to owe my rent,
And live on abalone.

Oh mission point's a friendly joint,
Where every crab's a crony,
And true and kind you'll never find,
The clinging abalone.

He wanders free beside the sea,
Where'er the coast is stony,
He flaps his wings and madly sings,
The plaintive abalone.

We sit around and gaily pound,
And bear no acrimony,
Because our ob - ject is a gob,
Of sizzling abalone.

He hides in caves beneath the waves,
His ancient patrimony,
And so 'tis shown that faith alone,
Reveals the abalone.
This verse is unusual for making reference to the technology of the day:

I telegraph my better half,
By Morse or by Marconi,
But if the need arise for speed,
I send an abalone.
And here's a couple of variations on verses already presented:

Some live on hope and some on dope,
And some on alimony,
But our tom cat he lives on fat,
And tender abalone.

Oh some like ham and some like lamb,
And some like macaroni,
But bring me in a pail of gin,
And a tub of abalone.

Bill Englander of Carmel submitted these verses to the Toy Box:

Oh dream do I of pizza pie,
With extra pepperoni,
But it wouldn't be right to a Carmelite,
Unless it's topped with abalone!

Oh some like Bach and some like rock,
And some like saxophoney.
But just give me a symphony,
And a plate of abalone!
Here's a modern verse from Monterey County's Chris Schott
When I get old, I'll pray twofold,
To love, and not be lonely,
We'll see Carmel, and hope like hell,
For the return of abalone.
Of course, Mr. Toy had to get into the act:

My wife and me, to watch TV,
We just turn on the Sony,
And when we look, John Pisto's cook-
ing up some Abalone.

In Carmel fog I like to jog,
On sand as white as bone-y,
Sometimes I'll pause for Sandy Claws,
Or bark for abalone!

In Monterey the squid they say,
Is tender as baloney,
But here I'll pound a little round,
Of tough old abalone.

Republicans, they love their guns,
Without them they feel lonely,
But when they try to tell me why,
I just say abalone.

The otters play in Carmel Bay,
On waves tourquoise and foamy,
Upon a rock they'll knock knock knock,
To open abalone.
And this verse by Sinclair Lewis has the final word:

Some stick to biz, some flirt with Liz,
Down on the sands of Coney,
But we by hell, stay in Carmel,
And whang the abalone!

I had to google "whang".  Was somewhat disappointed with the results.

The Abalone song was composed in Carmel around 1907 by writer George Sterling and his friends.

This below from Anchor Bay Campground:

http://www.abcamp.com/AbaloneSong.html

George Sterling wrote The Abalone Song in the early 1900's as a poet in the artist colony of Carmel. Sterling, with the likes of Jack London and Jimmy Hopper, feasted on California's prime delicacy around a roaring fire on the beach at Point Lobos. Edited versions can still be found in school song books.



 

Oh, some folks boast of quail and toast,
Because they think it's tony;
But I'm content to owe my rent
And live on Abalone.
 
Oh, Mission Point's a friendly joint
Where every crab's a crony;
And true and kind you'll ever find
The clinging Abalone.
 
He wanders free beside the sea
Where 'er the coast is stony;
He flaps his wings and madly sings,
The plaintive Abalone.
 
He hides in caves beneath the waves,
His ancient patrimony;
And so 'tis shown that faith alone
Reveals the Abalone.
 
The more we take, the more they make
In deep sea matrimony;
Race suicide cannot abide
The fertile Abalone.
 
By Carmel Bay, the people say
We feed the Lazzaroni
On Boston Beans and fresh sardines
And toothsome Abalone.
 
Oh, some throw rice, and some throw dice,
And some throw cascaroni,
But Eve, by hell, will throw a spell
Around the Abalone.

   

I telegraph my better half
By Morse or by Marconi;
But if the need for speed arise,
I'll send an Abalone.
 
Some live on hope, some live on dope,
And some on alimony;
But my Tom Cat and I get fat
On tender Abalone.
 
Oh, some drink rain, and some champagne,
Or brandy by the pony;
But I will try a little rye
With a dash of Abalone.
 
Oh, some like jam, and some like ham,
And some like macaroni;
But bring to me a pail of gin
And a tub of Abalone.
 
Oh, some folks think the Lord is fat,
Some think that He is bony;
But as for me, I think that he
Is like an Abalone.
 
(A few years back, we added our own stanza based on all the diver excitement surrounding John Pepper's amazing world-record-breaking 12 5/16 inch red abalone:)
 
Some folks are neat, and some are sweet,
And some are merely phony;
But if they gab 'bout twelve inch ab,
We're sure they're all baloney!

  I like the modern songs,  like that one from Michael Jackson  " Just Beat it " Beat it...   

     Ab divers beat their meat ! 

For a little laugh ;0)

 

I got it myself.
I ain't no phoney.
I'm pounding the $#!T
Out of this poor abalone.

Depends on the species
To pound out the feces
the taste will delite you
The LEO will cite you
If you pound and transport
you will get an escort to court

For a little laugh ;0)

Wwwwwhaaat?