Camp-1st timer’s impression

BruceBaker RainyCamp, Seattle Song Circle

RC-tile-heart It went on, I later discovered, for an hour and a half. It began after the Saturday night participants' concert, spontaneously, in a corner of the lodge-a handful of people and a guitar or two, singing one song that somehow became another. When I walked over to join in, it had become "Freight Train," then a spiritual, then "This Land is Your Land," and the game soon became clear: keep it going with no breaks, same chords, and different songs. Before I left to check out the Celtic jam in the Longhouse, the group in the corner had swelled to at least twenty people, another guitar or two, a fiddle, and some richly resonant harmonies.
I came to the west coast trolling for new experiences, and RainyCamp was certainly a new experience. The weekend (Feb. 9-11) was the grand finale to a six-week internship at the Seattle Folklore Society. As I'm from New York, I didn't expect to know anyone at a three-day folk song camp in Carnation, Washington-and I didn't. In the end, it didn't matter. I learned the songs as I went along, tried to sit with someone different at every meal, and went to every workshop I could (seven in all). The range of material was impressive (sea songs, storytelling, music from several different cultures and time periods...the list goes on), and the participants were a rich resource in themselves. On the ride back, I asked Bruce Baker how many songs he estimated the group knew in all, between all the participants. He shrugged. "Thousands."
How can I describe RainyCamp? I attempted it in my journal. Simultaneously restful and exciting. Entertaining. Beautiful. Heartening-because there really is no other word for seventy or eighty people in one wide, wood-walled room, harmonizing "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot" (my choice at the giant Friday night song circle). I can't recommend it highly enough. Considering the impressive knowledge, talent and skill of many of the RainyCamp attendees, it should have been a least a little intimidating-but it wasn't. It was a complete immersion in music, and for someone who is new to music of the traditional kind, it was remarkably free of new-kid anxiety. I toted my viola along, and when I finally got up the courage to take it out and really use it-at that Celtic jam mentioned earlier-I was doing more playing than worrying. As for the rain, I don't think it came; but if it did, I don't remember. I was inside, singing. By Jennifer White

Shrimp Song – Townes Van Zandt

BruceBaker Lyrics, Recording, Seattle Song Circle

At Seattle Song Circle Bruce Baker sang a funny song about a baby pig. So on my turn I came back with this Little Shrimp song. In trying to remember the tune I came across this hilarious version by Towne Van Zandt and promised to post it here.
Regarding the lyrics I just put a post on Mudcat to see if anyone has additional verses to the ones sung by Townes Van Zandt and written by R. Bennett & S. Tepper.  I know I have heard more than these.

I saw three shrimp in the water, two were old and gray
I swam a little bit closer and … I heard the third one say

Goodbye mama shrimp, papa shake my hand
Here come the shrimper for to take me to Louisian’
Here come the shrimper for to take me to Louisian’

He showed his mama and papa, the shrimp newspaper he read
An invitation to all the shrimp and this is what it said
Free ride, New Orleans, stay in grand hotel
Big Creole gal who help you come out of your shell
Big Creole gal who help you come out of your shell

If I should live to be ninety, I will never forget
The little shrimp and the song he sang as he jumped into the net

Goodbye mama shrimp, papa shake my hand
Here come the shrimper for to take me to Louisian’
Here come the shrimper for to take me to Louisian’

Here come the shrimper for to take me to Louisian’
Here come the shrimper for to take me to Louisian’
Here come the shrimper for to take me to Louisian’