Louisiana Has Two State Songs

The sun is bright in New Orleans

In my line of work, people ask me a lot of questions off the cuff, almost randomly, whatever occurs to them while they are eating a slice of crawfish pie for breakfast, and they expect me to know the answer.  Luckily, I usually do know the answer and I can talk about it for five or ten minutes until I run out of material and then the conversation tapers off until the next unexpected question appears.  I don't want to present this as a case of "Stump the Innkeeper."  It is always a lively morning in our dining room.

So, somebody asked me about Louisiana's state song.  There are two official state songs, actually.  One of them is "Give Me Louisiana," a song I have never heard performed.  I only know it is one of the official songs because I read it on Wikipedia.  Maybe there are parts of the great state of Louisiana where people gather around a bonfire and sing Give Me Louisiana.  They're probably tipsy and can't remember the words to this stirring ditty.  

I know the other official state song, though.  Everybody does.  You do, too.  It was written by Louisiana's "Singing Governor," Jimmie Davis, who was governor of the Pelican State 1944-1948, and then was elected again to serve as the head of state for the 1959-1960 term.  He was that popular.  So was the song he's most famous for.  You probably know most of the words.  If you don't, you can certainly hum along:


"You Are My Sunshine" is the Louisiana State song that everybody knows.  God bless Jimmie Davis, our singing governor.

It's a popular song.  How popular?  They'll be singing it in the future:


They'll be singing New Orleans' praises in the future, too.  There is no other city like it.  It's a place full of details and delightful surprises.  The street musicians in the French Quarter burnish renditions of old chestnuts all the time, including You Are My Sunshine.  The musicians in the clubs play the standards, including You Are My Sunshine.  People walking down the street, or sitting on their front porches, or taking their trash cans out to the curb of their stretch of the banquette whistle the same refrains over and over again.  You Are My Sunshine.

I was eavesdropping on a mother talking to her baby girl at the playground in City Park the other day after the girl had skinned her knee.  What did that mother say?  "You are my sunshine, baby, you are my sunshine."

À votre santé,
La Belle Esplanade bed and breakfast.