Oh, Say Can You sing…. by Margaret Maher McConnell

Oh, Say Can You Sing….

I suppose when it comes down to answering the question of whether or not there is any singing talent in our immediate family, the resounding answer is “No!”  However, the lack of talent never really stopped any of us.

As we grew up in the 50’s and ’60’s, the Maher, Flynn and Cullinan families often gathered informally at one apartment or another on a Saturday or Sunday.  After an abundance of food (often a boiled ham with potato salad) and an even greater abundance of adult beverages, the impromptu sing-along would begin.

Each of the “balladeers” had a signature song.  The most notable was Uncle Eddie (Cullinan) who solemnly sang “The Bold Fenian Men.”  Even as children we were wise enough to sit quietly through the rebel song which recounted the 1916 uprising in Ireland, a time when Uncle Eddie was just a boy.  To this day, I recall the somber tones of Uncle Eddie’s voice singing “Glory O, Glory O to the bold Fenian men.”

The tone would soon lighten as my brother Thomas and cousin David would coax my father into singing The Widow McCarty, a somewhat bawdy song as you can see below.  With all those stanzas to recall (and a Seagrams or two under his belt) my father would invariably get halfway through and press his palm to his forehead trying to recall the next verse…. usually unsuccessfully.

“Have you not heard of McCarty
Who lived in Tralee, good and hearty
He had scarce lived two score
When death came to his door
Made a widow of Mrs. McCarty

Nearby lived one Paddy McManus
Who by the way was a bit of a genius
At his trade he was good
Cutting figures of wood
Says he, I’ll go see the widow McCarty

Now Paddy, you know, was no ninny
He agreed for a couple of guineas
To cut out a stick
The dead image of Mick
And take it home to widow McCarty

As the widow, she’d sit by the fire
Every night before she’d retire
She’d take the stick that was dead
Put it into her bed
And lay down by the wooden McCarty

Now Pat wasn’t long to discover
That the widow was wanting a lover
He made love to her strong
And you’ll say he wasn’t wrong
For in three days he wed the widow McCarty

Their friends for to see them long tarried
To bet Pat and the widow they carried
She took up the stick
That was cut for Mick
And under the bed shoved wooden McCarty.

In the morning when Paddy was rising
He wanted something to set the fire blazing
Says she “If you’re in want of a stick
Cut a slice off Mick
For I’m done with my wooden McCarty.”

To round out the Cullinan singers, my mother, Mamie and sister Bridie, would tackle “Two Little Girls in Blue”….a song that is clearly a brain teaser with a chorus that goes like this:

“Two little girls in blue, lad, two little girls in blue—They were sisters. We were brothers, and learned to love the two;
And one little girl in blue, lad, who won your father’s heart,
Became your mother. I married the other but we have drifted apart.”

The song was written in 1893, but there’s a great recording from 1929, when my mother then 21 and Aunt Bridie, 20, probably first heard it.  Here’s a link that tells the whole story of the two little girls.  https://youtu.be/yn36MHFnptc

To add to the confusion, my mother and Aunt Bridie would sometimes correct each other midstream.  No wonder we never understood the lyrics.

But, the next generation was not without its own performing artists.  Jack Flynn (aka Brother Gregory) could knock “Coney Island Baby” straight out of the park.  The song was clearly intended for a barber shop quartet.  But, hey, with a sufficient amount of Jack Daniels, Jack’s rich baritone voice was fine enough solo.

Invariably, NOT by popular demand, my sister, Mary Ellen and I took center stage harmonizing to “You are my Sunshine.”  As I recall, no one ever cried out “encore!” although we were at the ready for a special request for “It Takes a Weary Man to Sing a Weary Song,” a depressing song that ends with “I’m weary now, but I won’t be weary long.”  Now that will get a party rolling.

And while there was little natural talent among the blood relatives, a couple of stars married in.  One notable bright light in the group was Jack O’Neill, Mary Ellen’s first husband.  His rendition of “Barbara Allen” could bring tears to your eyes.  It’s worth mentioning that Jack didn’t drink so he shone even more than the rest.  A few years later, David Flynn brought Ann Sheehan into the family and the skill level increased dramatically.  We could count on Ann to sing a beautiful rendition of “Forty Shades of Green.”

Over the years, a few more songs were added to the group’s repertoire.  From the absurd “Who Threw the Overalls in Mrs. Murphy’s Chowder” to “Four Green Fields,” a poignant song of an old woman (Mother Ireland) mourning the loss of one of her fields (the north of Ireland) to the British.

To this day, some 60 years later, I still have a vivid recollection of these family gatherings, the laughter, the fun, the simple pleasures of life.