The Crawdad Hole: Showing some Internet love

Last night, the boys were dancing and singing around the house as they always do and I noticed that they were very badly garbling the words to "Fishin' in the Crawdad Hole," which is a song they "learned" in music class.

So I started to try to break down the lyrics for them, saying each word slowly and carefully. But then it was clear that these city kids don't know nothin' 'bout no lines or no poles or no danged crawdad holes. So although they were trying valiantly to repeat the words after me, the looks of confusion on their faces showed me this was making no sense.

So I broke out the ole iPhone. Ole Trusty, I like to call her.

And I Googled "fishing poles." Together, we scrolled through a gajillion images of people fishing, and I pointed out the pole and the line and explained how people use fishing poles to catch fish that we can then eat! (The shock on their faces was priceless! We EAT the fish in the sea?! Say what?!)

After that, we Googled crawdads, but they looked really gross to me -- little wannabe lobsters, but short and scraggly and off-colored. Yick.

So instead, I Googled "Fishin' in the Crawdad Hole," and found an MP3 of a raucous country version of the song.

Then I played that thar song on Ole Trusty and the boys, Clair and I danced and jumped around in our living room, Riverdancing and hollering, "Yee-haw!" and it was awesome. It got even more awesome when the boys went and grabbed their red, plastic guitars and started plinking away on the strings, like they were banjo-plucking or fiddling in the band.

We all laughed and danced and had a hoppin' good time. And I wondered -- how would this night have gone differently in 1983, when no one had Internet access, and certainly not on their phones? I'm not saying it couldn't have happened. I just sincerely wondered how.

I know a lot of people have a lot to say about how "screen time" is ruining children, and how the world was so much better when electronics weren't so ever-present.

But boy, you couldn't have convinced us lunatics of that last night, clappin' and knee-slappin' and jumping around to our very own living room jamboree.

You get a line and I'll get a pole, Honey
You get a line and I'll get a pole, Babe
You get a line and I'll get a pole
We'll go fishing down the crawdad hole
Honey, Baby, mine.