David Rodeback's Blog
Local Politics and Culture, National Politics,
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
. . . Which is not the same as housekeeping limericks. (Would those be limericks which keep house, or limericks about housekeeping? Dunno.) Things get a little strange by the end, anyway, once the discussion moves beyond an important life lesson.
One concerned reader, upon reading the post in which I announced the winners of the Third Annual Groundhog Day Limerick Contest, helpfully and with some consternation alerted me that someone else sent some entries, which, apparently, I never received.
It's true. I didn't get them, even though he sent them in plenty of time to meet the contest deadline. Technically, I'm off the hook, because the official terms say I have to receive entries by the deadline. However, I'm disinclined to dismiss worthy limericks.
Here, therefore, are two by Californian Philip Nelson:
It's true that, without specific confirmation, one should never assume the safe arrival of an e-mail message. As an intelligent and highly-trained legal professional, Philip should know and never forget this. But we want him to remember this crucial life lesson with happy thoughts, not sad ones; it's the "spoonful of sugar makes the medicine go down" principle, you see.
So it's executive decision time . . .
I'm implementing said sweetness in three phases. The first is the glory of having his name and his verse published here at the blog. The second is a stanza or two of limerick I haven't even thought up yet, as I write this. The third is a small, tangible token of the blogosphere's debt to him, which I will handle offline.
As to the fresh limerick (second item on the happy list), let's see what comes out . . .
I really had no idea what to do with this post after . . . that. Then the phone rang. It was a woman I know, who lives in another time zone, which I am now thinking is a very good thing. During the course of our brief conversation, she suggested the possibility of her putting on a fake beard she has prepared (!) and sneaking inconspicuously (!) . . . somewhere. I don't even want to know where she might be going, where a bearded woman might be inconspicuous. All I really want to say is -- check that, all I dare to say is -- she's not on my side of the family.
Oh, and this: Happy Tuesday, everyone. Thanks for reading.
Copyright 2010 by David Rodeback.