Dear GK - In so far as I am fanatic about anything, I have been a fan of yours since finding the PHC by mistake one Sunday morning whilst in Kansas City for an International Standards Meeting (I was a UK rep). But I only recently discovered your love of limericks, a props of which I trust you are familiar with an article by Douglas Hoofstasder in a 1970s issue of Scientific American about self-referential poetry, and limericks in particular. I put your challenge for one about limericks to my friend: "A limericist called Hewitt
Regarding Marjorie's request that you stop the Trump bashing, please continue to bash away. I enjoy it, he deserves it, and I suspect he enjoys the attention.
No need to ease up on the lying insurrectionist orange wannabe kleptocrat-for-life whom I am certain Queen Elizabeth nicknamed anus horribilis when royal protocol left her with no choice but to pin on her Obama brooch and make that appearance with him.
Please continue your splendid derision of the Orange Baboon. He was the most dangerous president in the history of our nation. No need for any level of obsequious concern for the feelings of trumpsuckers. The notion that millions of people voted for this failed game show host, even once, speaks volumes of the level of education amongst our populace.
Will Garrison himself appear and participate at the October 21, 2022 Washington DC show? We are flying there from San Antonio Texas just to see him, and already have show tickets, airline tickets, and hotel reservations. Please reply.
I consider myself a former Christian, raised in a church that considered themselves the true followers of Joseph Smith, now called the Community of Christ. We sang hymns from every Christian denomination and after college I sang with a Methodist church choir. I have also attended Episcopal, Catholic, Presbyterian and Baptist services. As a result when I auditioned for the Cathedral Choral Society years ago and the director had me sight-read a hymn I didn't know he had to go through about 3 hymns that most people don't know before he got one I didn't know. I think that's what got me in the choir! To get the point I don't recall singing “I Am the Bread of Life” yet I seem to know the chorus and just listening to it here on my pc (and singing along) brought tears to my eyes. A beautiful piece of music. Thank you.
I deeply appreciate your love of the Prot hymns. Garrison. I could never and would never argue with your tears. But, as an Orthodox, even the blessed Notre Dame Folk Choir's (i shudder!) rendition of I Am The Bread of LIfe strikes me as silly and unserious. Tamborines and bouncy rhythms? Lord have mercy! Makes me again concerned that even the Roman Catholic church has succumbed to the capture of western Protestantism. The architecture sure is beautiful, though. :)
Even though remote to Lake Woebegone, there was something comforting in the pomp and circumstance at the Queen's funeral. I think it is that ceremony, like the Queen's devotion to duty or the rigorous parts of a church service, that gives comfort to all of us who had suffered some loss.
I've been a big fan of yours for years. My husband and I went to a show you did several years ago at the Atlanta Botanical Garden. We loved how you circulated through the crowd, singing old church songs and gently ribbing the young folks who didn't know the words. And your writing - pure gold. Thank you, Thank you!
Reading about the origin of Lori Brenda's name reminds me of a tidbit I saw on the wall of the Salvador Dali Museum in Florida. Salvador was named for a previous child, Salvador, who died of gastroenteritis.
Wikipedia notes: "Dalí was haunted by the idea of his dead brother throughout his life, mythologizing him in his writings and art. Dalí said of him, "[we] resembled each other like two drops of water, but we had different reflections."... He "was probably the first version of myself but conceived too much in the absolute". Images of his brother would reappear in his later works, including Portrait of My Dead Brother (1963)."
It seems remarkable to me, sometimes, how the past can affect the future! I was discussing the Social Security program with my friend, the teller at my bank. I heard on the radio that the Treasury might be having trouble meeting all it's commitments to the flood of us in the Baby Boomer generation. His generation, by comparison, has evolved in more peaceful times , with parents concerned about economics, choosing to regulate family size.
It's funny. I hadn't looked at the Social Security program that way before! I had simply thought "OK. My employers ensured that Social Security payments were part of my paycheck. I was paid in, now I can take it out." But that's not the way it works. While I was paying in, the money was flowing out to the Depression generation and the World War II casualty generation. Relative to our battalions, they were simply a squad! The Social Security payment system rolled along smoothly - "Look how clever we are!" But now the shoe is on the other foot. In actuarial terms, our Boomer generation's life expectancy is turning out to be much longer than it was when the Social Security System was devised.
In a way, it's a reflection of the difference between "determinists" - who want to fix everything perfectly in advance, and folks who "wing it" - "go with the flow." The first group may feel safer by creating "rock solid systems" - but in truth, there are so many options, so many variables in life, that it could be better to have an open-ended outlook.
In my mind's eye, I'm envisioning some of the barrier islands of sand on the Atlantic Coast. I've seen homes built on, say, twelve-feet high platforms "Just in case we have a storm." And here Hurricane Ian is, and those who sat tight and thought "We planned ahead, we'll be all right," might be sitting on their roofs right now. They could be hoping the Coast Guard spots them and picks them up before they're water borne. Others, who heard and heeded the evacuation warnings, may not know exactly what they're getting into, heading North. But they'll be out of harm's way. Sooner or later, they'll work out alternatives, and live to see another day.
If I recall, this theme of "Determinism" versus "Flexibility" was one of the threads that was woven into Lake Woebegone tales. It's something to think about!
Dear GK - In so far as I am fanatic about anything, I have been a fan of yours since finding the PHC by mistake one Sunday morning whilst in Kansas City for an International Standards Meeting (I was a UK rep). But I only recently discovered your love of limericks, a props of which I trust you are familiar with an article by Douglas Hoofstasder in a 1970s issue of Scientific American about self-referential poetry, and limericks in particular. I put your challenge for one about limericks to my friend: "A limericist called Hewitt
Tried his hand at a sonnet but blew it
He got to line five,
Cried "Heavens alive!
Another nine lines, I can't do it!"
Here is his Ogden Nash inspired response
"Young Richard, a fellow from Limerick
Found the bones of an old and slimmer ich-
thyosaur dinosaur
Then he found more and more;
Dem bones was once a good swimmer, Rick. "
Keep 'em coming, please, and stay well
Sandy Tyndale-Biscoe
Regarding Marjorie's request that you stop the Trump bashing, please continue to bash away. I enjoy it, he deserves it, and I suspect he enjoys the attention.
No need to ease up on the lying insurrectionist orange wannabe kleptocrat-for-life whom I am certain Queen Elizabeth nicknamed anus horribilis when royal protocol left her with no choice but to pin on her Obama brooch and make that appearance with him.
Please continue your splendid derision of the Orange Baboon. He was the most dangerous president in the history of our nation. No need for any level of obsequious concern for the feelings of trumpsuckers. The notion that millions of people voted for this failed game show host, even once, speaks volumes of the level of education amongst our populace.
Will Garrison himself appear and participate at the October 21, 2022 Washington DC show? We are flying there from San Antonio Texas just to see him, and already have show tickets, airline tickets, and hotel reservations. Please reply.
Things I can experience just by thinking about it:
Conversation with my long-deceased parents.
Sex.
Forgiveness.
I consider myself a former Christian, raised in a church that considered themselves the true followers of Joseph Smith, now called the Community of Christ. We sang hymns from every Christian denomination and after college I sang with a Methodist church choir. I have also attended Episcopal, Catholic, Presbyterian and Baptist services. As a result when I auditioned for the Cathedral Choral Society years ago and the director had me sight-read a hymn I didn't know he had to go through about 3 hymns that most people don't know before he got one I didn't know. I think that's what got me in the choir! To get the point I don't recall singing “I Am the Bread of Life” yet I seem to know the chorus and just listening to it here on my pc (and singing along) brought tears to my eyes. A beautiful piece of music. Thank you.
A few cat limericks:
The dog has a master; the cat has a staff;
So, Wilson my cat, has to laugh,
As does Pilgrim, my kitten
Who is not at all smitten:
"The dog is the smarter," by the riff-raff,
The cat says, "Time out and take five,
And all that cat Brubeck jive;
Can't you see man,
I'm from Japan,
Don't be a deadbeat, be alive."
The keyboard, the screen, or in-between,
A cat who just wants to be seen;
And a cat in a sock -
Gads! What a crock!
But the cat is just playful, not mean.
Avoid a companionship catastrophe.
Your cat, don't you see, isn't a trophy.
So give him a big hug
While he's still on the rug.
Don't you hear him meow, "Please love me:?
My cat cannot catch the red dot.
He stalks and he pounces, as he ought.
But one day, an epiphany:
The controller is me,
And from then on forgotten he has not.
The cat, in the fog, on cat feet,
Creeps stealthily, quietly by the street -
Is he looking for food,
Or is he in a hunting mood? -
Give him food and a hug if perchance you meet.
A Siamese cat on a desk --
Is he cute or just possibly picturesque?
He sit on the chair,
To do his work there.
They are not known to be Arabesque.
A pride of big cats slay elephant.
You'd be wrong to maintain that they can't.
I saw it on TV.
So be nice to your kitty.
He may have big friends: That's my rant.
Does a cat have the right to bear claws?
Well, he can - right or not - watch those paws.
So be nice to your kitten,
Or you may be smitten.
Cats do not follow human laws.
A trap for a feral "sweet tea;"
A junkyard cat: one real cutie.
Little Sweetie's the name
To my home thus she came,
And I've adopted the cat with alacrity.
One big step from the keys to my lap,
Then Wilson decided to take a catnap;
But he could not resist
To first typing a thesis.
He reposes now, and that's a wrap.
I deeply appreciate your love of the Prot hymns. Garrison. I could never and would never argue with your tears. But, as an Orthodox, even the blessed Notre Dame Folk Choir's (i shudder!) rendition of I Am The Bread of LIfe strikes me as silly and unserious. Tamborines and bouncy rhythms? Lord have mercy! Makes me again concerned that even the Roman Catholic church has succumbed to the capture of western Protestantism. The architecture sure is beautiful, though. :)
Even though remote to Lake Woebegone, there was something comforting in the pomp and circumstance at the Queen's funeral. I think it is that ceremony, like the Queen's devotion to duty or the rigorous parts of a church service, that gives comfort to all of us who had suffered some loss.
Here's my limerick about a limerick-
For your pleasure, I’ve written a limerick
‘Bout a woman as thin as a limb or stick:
She ate and she ate
But she only lost weight--
She went from a slim to a slimmer chick.
I've been a big fan of yours for years. My husband and I went to a show you did several years ago at the Atlanta Botanical Garden. We loved how you circulated through the crowd, singing old church songs and gently ribbing the young folks who didn't know the words. And your writing - pure gold. Thank you, Thank you!
Reading about the origin of Lori Brenda's name reminds me of a tidbit I saw on the wall of the Salvador Dali Museum in Florida. Salvador was named for a previous child, Salvador, who died of gastroenteritis.
Wikipedia notes: "Dalí was haunted by the idea of his dead brother throughout his life, mythologizing him in his writings and art. Dalí said of him, "[we] resembled each other like two drops of water, but we had different reflections."... He "was probably the first version of myself but conceived too much in the absolute". Images of his brother would reappear in his later works, including Portrait of My Dead Brother (1963)."
It seems remarkable to me, sometimes, how the past can affect the future! I was discussing the Social Security program with my friend, the teller at my bank. I heard on the radio that the Treasury might be having trouble meeting all it's commitments to the flood of us in the Baby Boomer generation. His generation, by comparison, has evolved in more peaceful times , with parents concerned about economics, choosing to regulate family size.
It's funny. I hadn't looked at the Social Security program that way before! I had simply thought "OK. My employers ensured that Social Security payments were part of my paycheck. I was paid in, now I can take it out." But that's not the way it works. While I was paying in, the money was flowing out to the Depression generation and the World War II casualty generation. Relative to our battalions, they were simply a squad! The Social Security payment system rolled along smoothly - "Look how clever we are!" But now the shoe is on the other foot. In actuarial terms, our Boomer generation's life expectancy is turning out to be much longer than it was when the Social Security System was devised.
In a way, it's a reflection of the difference between "determinists" - who want to fix everything perfectly in advance, and folks who "wing it" - "go with the flow." The first group may feel safer by creating "rock solid systems" - but in truth, there are so many options, so many variables in life, that it could be better to have an open-ended outlook.
In my mind's eye, I'm envisioning some of the barrier islands of sand on the Atlantic Coast. I've seen homes built on, say, twelve-feet high platforms "Just in case we have a storm." And here Hurricane Ian is, and those who sat tight and thought "We planned ahead, we'll be all right," might be sitting on their roofs right now. They could be hoping the Coast Guard spots them and picks them up before they're water borne. Others, who heard and heeded the evacuation warnings, may not know exactly what they're getting into, heading North. But they'll be out of harm's way. Sooner or later, they'll work out alternatives, and live to see another day.
If I recall, this theme of "Determinism" versus "Flexibility" was one of the threads that was woven into Lake Woebegone tales. It's something to think about!
I sent a PH to my son, who challenged me to do a limerick. So I wrote:
A chanteuse from lively Calcutta
Had a voice that was smoother than butta
A Jersey gal heard
And said just this word:
O lordy, she sounds like my muttah!
Then he came back with this:
I challenged my Dad out in Chelsea
To Limerick, and he said oh, We’ll see
Then he Keillored with skill
Which gave me a thrill
To know there’s no bats in his belfry!
Not bad, but Chelsea is almost as hard as Calcutta!