A-L-O-N-Z-O was his Name-O (4)

by cheri block

Oh, she sailed a-way, on a bright and sunny day,

On the back of a croc-o-di-le, (clap four times)

“You see,” said she, “He’s as tame as tame can be,

I’ll ride him down the Ni-le,”

But the croc winked his eye, as they waved them all good-bye,

Wearing a great big smile.

When they came back, from the ride,

With a lady inside,

And a smile on the croc-o

Smile on the croc-o,

Smile on the croc-o-di-le.

“That’s a cute song! “Alonzo was absolutely thrilled that I might entertain the burial mound community with my repertoire of old day camp songs. In fact, he was so taken by the social possibilities that his nostrils flared and smoke accidentally puffed into my face.

I coughed but didn’t miss a beat.

Old Mr. Jones has problems of his own,

He’s got an old grey cat that wouldn’t leave home,

He tried and he tried to get the cat a-way,

But the cat came back, the very next day….Ohhhhhhhhhhhh (chorus)

The cat came back, the very next day, well,

The cat came back (We thought he was a gonner!)

But the cat came back, he just couldn’t stay a-way, no, no-no-no, no….

“My god, how many of these little ditties do you have in that brain jiggling under that hat?” Alonzo went absolutely nuts, slamming just the tip of his twenty-foot tail on the linoleum, so as not to upset a 5000 piece puzzle half-way completed, sitting on a nearby table.

“Let’s schedule a  Wednesday afternoon sing-along, can we, Cheri? Can we? Can we??? ”

Those dang blue nostrils opened again in his undaunted dragonian enthusiasm and I, too slow of reflex, found my self breathing fire again.

In a ca-bin in the woods, (make the shape of a cabin)

Lit-tle man by the win-dow stood.

Saw a rab-bit hop-ping by, (use two fingers to show a rabbit hopping)

Knock-ing at his door. (make a fist and pantomine a knock)

“Help me! Help me! Help!!” he cried.

“Or the hunter will shoot me dead!”(make a gun with your hand and arm)

“Come little rab-bit, come with me, (cradle a baby rabbit in your arms and rock it)

Hap-py we will be.”

“Oh my god, King Beowulf, when you hear her songs, you will be taken back to a time when you were just a young boy up there in Sweden, looking for an opportunity to be a hero,” Alonzo reported on his Walkie-talkie and then, after signing off,  kissed his shiny friendship ring in glee.

There was a dra-gon had a name, A-lon-zo was his Name-o.

A-L- O-N-Z-O, A-L- O-N-Z-O, A-L- O-N-Z-O,

Alonzo was his Name-0.

[This work is registered at the U.S. Copyright Office 2010]

About Cheri

Writer, photograph, artist, mother, grandmother and wife.
This entry was posted in My fiction, The Dragon in the Lobby: a fairytale about Assisted Living and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

9 Responses to A-L-O-N-Z-O was his Name-O (4)

  1. “In a cavern, in a canyon
    Excavating for a mine…”
    “In the center of a golden valley,
    Dwelt a maiden all divine. A pretty creature a miner’s dahghter
    And her name was Clementine.” (Barker Bradford, 1885).
    -Alonzo, in his lair,
    The Queen Mother and Cherie.
    Both square and fair,
    Had them singing for aging fairies.
    At first the place was eerie
    But clearer seems the air.
    Glad to see things begin to look up.

  2. Cheri says:

    Your liege,
    The Queen Mother, Cherie, and Alonzo (together with your lordship, of course) shall entertain the aging fairies.

    Gosh, I love the line …the aging fairies…wish I thought of that myself. And should I use that phrase, I will credit your liege.


    Firetaken (that’s “thank-you” in Dragonish)

  3. Fireaknowledged, welcome in same.

  4. steve block says:

    John Jacob Jingleheimer Smith. That’s what I’m talking about.

  5. sledpress says:

    Oh, dear, now I’m falling to bits because my late and ex husband (and probably the only love of my life when all is said and done) used to sing “John Jacob Jingleheimer Smith,” and this is the only other place I’ve ever run across it. (I don’t think he ever went to camp and I know I didn’t!)

    I want to take care of the little bunny, too. This is dangerous territory.

  6. J.J.J.S. got me searching. Wikipedia has an entry about it and, on the Net, there are a few recordings of Scout troops singing it. There is even a French equivalent, sung the same way:
    Voilà mon nom
    Et quand je sors prendre l’air
    Tout le monde me chante en choeur.
    Have fun.

  7. wkkortas says:

    Back in that long ago, when we had cars sans radio, my father would lead us through versions of “There’s A Tavern In This Town” and “Hang Down Your Head, Tom Dooley”. Not camp ditties, perhaps, but oh what memories just the same.

  8. Cheri says:

    Thanks, Steve, for reminding me of JJJS and thanks, Paul, for adding info and the sweet French version, and thanks wkkortas for adding two more to my list.

    I zic-a-zim-ba, zim-ba, zy-ah,
    I zic-a-zim-ba, zim-ba, zee.

  9. steve block says:


    I am sure he was a helluva guy!!

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