By the way, that Spitting Image Chicken song was written by no less than Rob Grant and Doug Naylor, of Red Dwarf fame. Reached #1 on the UK charts, too.
Same with me, Chronos.
And Robin, if I have to submit my son to the ingominy of a bris :eek:, then I think you an handle the chicken dance.
I got married in a JP’s office in Africa. It was what I wanted.
My sister got the whole works–it was what she wanted, and blast it if she didn’t do the entire thing gracefully. (My sister and I have a mutual admiration society.)
Anyway, at the reception, they did the Chicken Dance. In a strange way, it was a moment I will never forget.
Somehow, instead of my beloved baby sister, she turned into the Universal Bride Figure. That silly Chicken Dance became a folk dance, and she became the Bride Through The Ages, Celebrating With The Community. It really moved me. It made me feel how the celebration was a continuance of history, in a way.
So, Robyn, give the tradition a chance to work the same magic on you.
And if you find it in your heart to have them play “Hail to the Redskins,” well, it works in our family…
“The Bird Dance” is what we called it when I was growing up in Germany. Since then it has been covered many times, with many different lyrics.
Try it under the German name in Google.
My first experience with it in the US was on Drew Carey
Quasi
Just this past Friday I was treated to a performance of The Chicken Dance by no less a group of experts than a roomful of 11-year old girls playing Truth or Dare at a birthday party.
Their interpretation of this timeless classic, contained the poetic lyric:
I don’t wanna be a chicken (hands pointed like beaks)
I don’t wanna be a duck (hands in armpits flapping arms like wings)
So I’ll shake my butt (uh - guess)
(clap clap clap clap)
You repeat it endlessly, increasing the speed and volume, as hilarity inevitably ensues.
My only objection to the Chicken Dance is that it seems to have supplanted my favorite - The Hokey Pokey!
As far as wedding polkas are concerned, my last name ends in ski and I grew up on the N side of Chicago with a large family of vowel-deficient relatives. At our family gatherings, polkaing is a full-contact sport, not for the timid. The goal is to see how high you can step, and how much ground you can cover. Tho my wife is a good bohunk, she finds our athletic dancing somewhat offputting.