Origins: My Gal's a Corker/...Girl's a New Yorker

Subject: RE: Origins: My Gal's a Corker/...Girl's a New Yorker
From: GUEST,Jim the Frog
Date: 15 May 15 - 06:35 PM

This was a fascinating thread (which I found searching for "She wears my BVDs, I stand outside and freeze, Yes boys that's where my money goes", which my dad sang for me in the 60's).

It's pretty clear that there are four different songs here. (Not that hard to tell if you check scansion and lyrics and do some YouTube searches)

1) "My Gal's a Corker" - waltz, written by John Stromberg in the late 1800's

2) "My Gal's a Corker" - rag, possibly written by Ray Valdes in 1941; perhaps filking an existing tune. This is a completely different song than #1, with different lyrics and meter, but shares the same title. It had traveled to Scotland by the mid 1950's to be recorded by Alan Lomax (http://www.allmusic.com/album/singing-in-the-streets-scottish-childrens-songs-mw0000655458)

3) "Vassar Hygiene Song" - shares a few lyrics with #2, but clearly a different song.

4) "Nobody's business what i do" - blues song that has a similar meter to #2 but different tune.

Subject: RE: Origins: My Gal's a Corker/...Girl's a New Yorker
From: Lighter
Date: 16 May 15 - 09:00 AM

To be a "corker" in the U.S. (not a word that used much anymore), something or someone needs only to be very remarkable, even surprising or mildly disconcerting, in some way.

To say "My girl's a corker" doesn't tell us much. In my experience it is more usually applied to actions than to looks.

Subject: RE: Origins: My Gal's a Corker/...Girl's a New Yorker
From: GUEST
Date: 25 Apr 17 - 11:52 PM

My aunt a former US Army WAC, sang this ditty to me
When I was young. My gals a corker she's a New Yorker I buy her every thing. Yay boys that's where my money goes.

Subject: Lyr Add: MY GIRL'S A CORKER (Jerome/Queen, 1895)
From: Jim Dixon
Date: 10 May 17 - 11:56 PM

From the sheet music at University of Wisconsin-Madison:


MY GIRL'S A "CORKER," or "THE RACE TRACK GIRL
Words by William Jerome; music by John Queen. ©1895.

1. Oh, talk about your sweethearts fair,
And girls of high degree;
Your Bow'ry Pearls, and English girls
From far across the sea;
But I can't see where they come in,
They never were in line,
For up to date ideas, with
This racetrack girl of mine.

CHORUS: My girl's a "corker!"
She's a New Yorker;
She plays the races,
She gets the "dough!"
She loves me dearly,
And so sincerely!
Tell me how you found that out?
She told me so!

2. At Sheepshead Bay, in summer time,
She's simply "out of sight!"
She bets her "stuff" like Pittsburgh Phil
And always gets them right.
The "touts" they all take off their hats
And stand right in a line,
And look for information from
This racetrack girl of mine.

3. And when the racing season's o'er,
She goes across the "pond;"
I've heard some tales that dear old Wales,*
Of her, is very fond.
In Paris, on the Boulevard,
She never fails to shine;
For ev'ry day is Sunday with
This racetrack girl of mine.

[* In 1895, the Prince of Wales would have been Albert Edward, son of Queen Victoria, later to become Edward VII.]

Subject: ADD: Vassar Hygiene Song
From: Joe_F
Date: 06 Sep 21 - 09:07 PM

VASSAR HYGIENE SONG

Oh, we never used to bathe till we heard the Doctor rave
In the lectures that she gave how to behave;
Now we take our daily bath even though we miss our math.
How in the world do you know that? She told us so.
When we grow older, then we'll be bolder,
We'll take it colder, up to the shoulder.
This we must do every day, even though we pass away.
How in the world do you know that? She told us so.

Oh, we always used to weep when we heard the chickens peep
In the boiled eggs that we eat every old week,
Now we eat them every day; pepper takes the taste away.
How in the world do you know that? She told us so.
When we grow bolder, we'll take them older,
Hotter or colder, what if they moulder?
Nothing but the egg is lacking; still we have the sawdust packing.
How in the world do you know that? She told us so.

Oh, we always used to hate to be told to sit up straight;
Now our posture's simply great, early and late.
Keep your head up and your waist in, don't forget about your chin.
How in the world do you know that? She told us so.
When we grow older, we won't be told to
Keep a straight shoulder---it'll come natural.
When you bend up like a bow, where do all your organs go?
All of this you ought to know; she told us so.

Let us pause in admiration of the racial obligation,
And amoeba's propagation of his generation,
'Twas an epoch-making spasm, rent in twain his protoplasm.
How in the world do you know that? She told us so.
As he grew older, the sea grew colder,
Making him strong to linger no longer.
He developed respiration, then maternal abnegation,
Hence the present generation; she told us so.

Let us sing in dulcet tones all about the new hormones
That have taught our little rabbits scientific mating habits,
In each sexless little cell, bashful bunnies do quite well.
How in the world do you know that? She told us so.
As they grow older, they will grow bolder,
No more sterility, only fertility,
They will never be frustrate, but will only propagate,
And maintain that high birth rate; she told us so!

She goes to Vassar, none can surpass her,
She is the stroke of the varsity crew.

    And in my future life, she's gonna be my wife.
    How in the world do you know that? She told me so.

My girl's from Thmith, thhe talkth like thith,
Thhe taught me how to kith. I love her tho....

My girl's from Holyoke, she taught me how to smoke,
She knows a dirty joke, now I know one too....

My girl's from Radcliffe, she is a big stiff,
And she gets sore at me when I tell her so....

My girl's from Wheaton, she takes a beatin',
And when she's feeling good, I take one too....

My girl's from Skidmore, she is an awful bore,
She never knows the score, boy don't I know!...

My girl's from Middlebury, she is extraordinary,
She's built just like a fairy, three hundred pounds or so....

My girl's from Wellesley, she always tells me
I'm bats in the belfry, but I love her anyhow....

My girl's from MIT, she is a travesty,
Girls who go for engineering are not so hot appearing....

My girl's from Alpha Xi, says her only drink is tea,
But she isn't fooling me, I've seen her sip a brew or two....

My girl's from PJC, I taught her how to ski,
Now she's sitting in a tree, two hundred feet below....

My girl's from Connecticut, she knows her etiquette,
She taught me how to pet, now I do it too....

(falsetto:)
My man's from DOC, he taught me how to ski,
He wrapped me 'round a tree, and now won't even look at me....
And in my future life I'm gonna be his wife.
How in the world does he know that? I told him so.

My man's from Yale, he lands in jail,
From drinking too much gin---ger ale....


The above version is from The New Song Fest.

Also see https://mudcat.org/thread.cfm?threadid=54727

Subject: RE: Origins: My Gal's a Corker/...Girl's a New Yorker
From: GUEST,Sandy F
Date: 31 Jul 23 - 10:42 PM

My Uncle Del taught us this version. He may have learned it at Wartburg Seminary.

My gal's a corker, she's a New Yorker.
I buy her everything to keep her in style.
She drives a cadillac, I ride the railroad tracks;
That's where my money goes...Boy-oy-oy!