“Hammer Swinging” - a song about roles
I had an older version I forgot I recorded, so I am sharing both. (Man, what a guy). One is finger style and the other strummed. I like both for different reasons.
Story Pairing
I am a large machine, 6’5’’,well over 200lbs. I enjoy being big and tall with a few exceptions.
Trying to find pants
Airplane seats
Having to go to work with my dad at about 10 years old because I was big and strong enough to shovel dirt and rocks (and possibly had a need for some character development on account of a bit of a rambunctious element to my personality)
One thing that happens when you are a large man is that a portion of your identity forever sits in the physical realm. A bit of your societal worth is tethered to your ability to move heavy things. I’m not complaining, it’s just a thing. I love it. Most guys do. Think of a time you’ve had to hand off the opening of a pickle jar (any jar really) to a fella. We all know that look of nonchalant satisfaction they have as they hand it back to you, free of restriction. I’m guilty of it myself. I do something just slightly above average and I feel like the Incredible Hulk for the rest of the day.
As a boy I remember getting into certain jobs that required more “oomph” than I had to give. One job we had was to run copper pipe under this paved driveway in a housing development. We used a machine called a mole to create a starter hole through the dirt, then we ran a rope through the hole, attached the rope to the copper pipe and began pulling it through the hole. About halfway, the friction of the dirt/clay on that pipe made it so hard to pull that I couldn’t budge it. I remember telling dad that I couldn’t do it and we’d have to get someone else to come help. He said something along the lines of “we were hired for the job so it’s our job to do it”. He hopped down into that trench, grabbed the rope, and pulled it a bit farther before it got stuck again. I went to say a version of “I told you so”, but didn’t get the chance. He took a deep breath, widened his stance, grabbed that rope and found a gear that I didn’t know existed. Red faced, sweating, and what seemed inches at a time, that pipe cleared the hole. Power.
That’s a moment that stuck with me. It’s when I was taught by example that we are capable of extra. Like how a transmission hops around and takes advantage of potential, the human body has an organic approach to that concept. I sometimes wonder if it’s a skill that’s passed down less and less. We don’t push ourselves the way past generations did. Some of the reason is that we are always developing new methods and tools to make labor easier, and some of the reason is that I think we have a dwindling supply of role models. Hard work is hard. Outside doesn’t always have a heater or air conditioning. Blisters suck. Clothes heavy with perspiration aren’t comfortable. The list goes on, but I have never slept better than when I hit the hay after a day of some sort of honest, human effort. I appreciate that I had a strong example of what hard work is. Maybe that was fast tracked because of my size, and maybe I’m glad that it was (now anyway, no middle school kid wants to spend their summer swinging hammers).
Song Structure
Verse: G / A7 / D / G
Chorus: C / G / D / C / G / C / G / D / C / C / G
Voice Memos
These are some of the oldest voice memos I have…
No Notebook Page
Dec 2017
Lyrics
I am a hammer swinging and that's what they keep me for
Haven't met a rock yet, that I can’t bust up a little more
Whenever I stop working Im kindly shown the door
I am a hammer swinging and that's what they keep me for
Handle made of polished oak and my head is solid steel
Kissed so many things goodbye, I've forgotten how to feel
Still I'm moving forward, toward my next meal
Handle made of polished oak and my head is solid steel
I’m coming on down, I’m coming on down
My face is just a few, inches from the ground
I’m coming on down, I’m coming on do-o-own
I am an old hammer swinging round
Haven't met a problem where a good swift tap won’t do
Left my mark on industry in at least a town or two
Tunnels they have felt me, as I’m passing through
Haven’t met a problem where a good swift tap won’t do
I’m coming on down, I’m coming on down
My face is just a few, inches from the ground
I’m coming on down, I’m coming on do-o-own
I am an old hammer swinging round
Many hands have held me, and many more have tried
Some went away from growing old, some just up and died
Cannot count the times I stole a sparkle from their eye
Many hands have held me, and many more have tried
I’m coming on down, I’m coming on down
My face is just a few, inches from the ground
I’m coming on down, I’m coming on do-o-own
I am an old hammer swinging round