Ogden Nash

Yesterday morning as I was getting ready to take my shower before going to work, I suddenly remembered something from when my son was young. I know I was having a chain thought--I just don't remember where it started. I don't know about you, but I've always done my best thinking in the shower. Maybe it's the solitude.

Anyway, in case you're not familiar with chain thoughts, it's very simple. You start thinking about one thing, which makes you think of the next, which makes you think of the next, and so on. Most of the time you'll wind up someplace completely different from where you started.

Like I said, I don't remember how the chain started...I just remember that one of the links was my son and his room when he was about seven or so. Hey, I'm an old person and I can't pin it down any closer than that. Mouse, my son, had this problem with keeping his room clean. It was a terrible battle! Looking back, I can see that I was a real room Nazi. Stuff that seemed so important to me then seems really stupid now. In fact, some years ago he told me something I had done when he was young regarding his bedmaking skills and I just looked at him and said, "I didn't do that!! You've got to be making that up!!" He swears up and down that I did it and it's one of those really ridiculous things that I'll never talk about here!!

Oh, and I saw the incredulous look on your face when I called my son Mouse. You didn't honestly think I'd reveal the real name of a 33 year-old father and respectable business man, did you?? For shame... I'd never do that to him. It's more fun this way. I can tell all the humorous stories I like and only the guilty will recognize themselves... That's goes for my daughter, too...Stink, for short. If I didn't love my kids, I'd never have given them pet names. She'd probably prefer I'd use her dad's pet name for her, Gull, but when he gets his own blog and decides to start telling stories, he can call her anything he wants.

I was telling you about Mouse and his room. I'm sure you're wondering how that relates to Ogden Nash. Anyone my age probably remembers Ogden Nash but I'm not sure how many of my peers really appreciated his style of poetry.

He lived from 1902-1971 and, as far as I'm concerned, was the master of tongue-in-cheek poetry. I loved his work as a kid. When I got older and wrote some poetry of my own, I found that I really enjoyed one particular type above others...Limericks. Yeah, I know there's a lot of them floating around out there that have given the genre an unsavory reputation, but I've always loved them and have never written a dirty one in my life. I always felt that was such a waste. If it hadn't been for Ogden Nash, I'm not sure I would have become as interested in poetry as I did.

So many poems out there are highbrow and stuffy. His are all delicious. Some of his are long, others are really short. I took another look at his work yesterday as he was the last link in my chain thought. When his name came to mind as the last stop on that early morning train ride, I realized how much I had missed his work. I hadn't thought of him in years--and that was a real shame. His name just seemed to pop up out of some deep recess in my mind. Yesterday at work was great! I started the day off with his humorous musings floating around in my brain and, every time I thought about them during the day, I had to chuckle. I've even got one I'm going to share with my daughter, who has a new baby. You'll probably enjoy his short poem, too.

Ode to a Baby
by Ogden Nash

A little talcum
Is always walcum

Now, since you understand the influence he had on me when I was young, I'll continue on with my story of Mouse. I think, in retrospect, that my son must have as strong a will as I have. I mean, it's in the gene pool, right?? I think his was a form of passive resistance which, if I didn't already have a surfeit of drunks in my family, would have driven me to take up drink in earnest. I felt like I was never going to get through to him. Coming from a drastic childhood, I'm sorry to say that some of the methods I used to try and encourage him to clean up his room were drastic, as well. It's like computers...garbage in, garbage out. And, trust me, I'd had plenty of garbage instilled into me.

During that period, I decided to try and encourage him with a little humor. I wrote him a limerick while he was at school and wrote it out in HUGE letters on newsprint and taped it to one of his sliding closet doors. He came home and saw it and laughed--he liked it. I didn't realize til many years later that it must have had some sort of impact because he brought it up one time and recited most of it--only stumbling over a couple of the words that seemed to elude him. He said he always liked it. Well, so did I... Of all the poems I have written over the years...and never saved...this has to be my favorite. Knowing the background it sprang from, you may see the humor in it, as well. Ogden Nash, it ain't, but I think he might have enjoyed it.

There once was a lad from Philippi
Whose room was always a pig sty
He went in there one day
And was eaten right away
By a GIANT, junkitis amoebi...

I've decided that I need go back to writing my whimsical poetry. I have a number of grandchildren now and it might be something nice to leave them--especially if it features them. It will be something to share with their children, as well. I also started a children's book many years ago as a sort of therapy to work my way out of a problem I was experiencing, but it went by the wayside. Maybe I'll pick that up again... So much of life is unpleasant and we need to find our pleasantries where we can.

Oh, and someday I'll tell you about the battle I had with Stink and HER room... She won, by the way--she's even more stubborn than me, if that's possible.

Who'd have thought that all those trials and tribulations would one day become fodder for humorous stories. I need to remind Stink of that--she has four children. I guess that means she'll have double the amount of stories... She's already told me some that have had me crying and holding my sids because I was laughing so hard. I wish she had time to write hers down...they are WAY more funny than mine.