Thoughts from Mark "Hat" Rackley

“Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and you were not willing.

• Luke 13:34

“One night farmer Brown was takin’ the airs
Locked up the barnyard with the greatest of care
Down in the hen house, somethin’ stirred
When he shouted, ‘Who’s there?’
This is what he heard

“There ain’t nobody here but us chickens
There ain’t nobody here at all
So calm yourself and stop that fuss
There ain’t nobody here but us
We chickens tryin’ to sleep and you butt in
And hobble, hobble hobble hobble with your chin”

“There ain’t nobody here but us chickens
There ain’t nobody here at all
You’re stompin’ around and shakin’ the ground
You’re kickin’ up an awful dust
We chicken’s tryin’ to sleep and you butt in
And hobble, hobble hobble hobble, it’s a sin”

“Tomorrow is a busy day
We got things to do, We got eggs to lay
We got ground to dig and worms to scratch
It takes a lot of settin’, gettin’ chicks to hatch”

“Ohh, there ain’t nobody here but us chickens
There ain’t nobody here at all
So quiet yourself and stop that fuss
There ain’t nobody here but us
Kindly point that gun the other way
And hobble, hobble hobble of and hit the hay”

“Tomorrow is a busy day
We got things to do, we got eggs to lay
We got ground to dig and worms to scratch
It takes a lot of settin’, gettin’ chicks to hatch”

“There ain’t nobody here but us chickens
There ain’t nobody here at all
So quiet yourself and stop that fuss
There ain’t nobody here but us
And kindly point that gun the other way
And hobble, hobble hobble off and hit the hay”

“Hey, hey, boss man, what do ya say?
It’s easy pickings
Ain’t nobody here but us chickens”

• Alex Kramer and Joan Whitney, Ain’t Nobody Here but us Chickens

The expression “Ain’t Nobody Here but Us Chickens” comes from an anecdote published in 1908.  The chicken thief, hiding in the coop, tried to tell the chicken owner that there was no one there except chickens.  In 1946 Kramer and Whitney collaborated to write this song, which saxophonist Louis Jordan turned into a hit.  The recording, on a 78, was added to the Grammy Hall of Fame in 2013.

What made me think of the song was my grandson, the boy who turned 11-years-old when I visited them some time ago.  He was practicing his bagpipes in the backyard.  There was nobody in the backyard but some chickens.  While the rooster was not crowing, there was this awful sound from the tall chicken, otherwise known as my grandson.

Actually, he did not sound bad at all.  He practiced a lot.

His Dad, my son, the former music teacher and a music purist, heard a thousand things wrong that had to be fixed, but I recognized the tune, and for once my grandson was genuinely interested in something that was not an electronic game of some sort.  Mostly my son argued that he was not disciplined, and his breathing was not adequate to play the instrument.

I had to admit that he was nowhere nearly as loud as his big brother, probably not having any drones playing, but when he went for a lesson, the teacher, down in Mississippi, said that he wanted him to play at a retirement home near Christmas.

So, was he as bad as my son said, or was he not that bad for an eleven year old?

Until then, he was in the backyard with the chickens.  If any of the neighbors complained about the noise, my son could say that he would have a long talk with the rooster.

The chickens are there for the eggs, but with one rooster and three hens, it takes the chickens 3-4 days to lay enough for the five humans to have one egg for breakfast, but they have little worries when they need an egg for baking and such.

Here is Louis Jordan singing Ain’t Nobody Here but Us Chickens.  This live performance was recorded on French television.

I guess there are worse places to practice the bagpipes.  The chickens did not seem to mind.

Soli Deo Gloria.  Only to God be the Glory.