A Limerick A Week – Page 20 – A View From The Lanterne Rouge

A limerick a week #73

It takes a lot of balls …

Try Googling ‘the problem with golf’ and you’ll find any number of serious articles discussing a sport that “is dying on its feet”. (Of course that is not what you hear when developers want to destroy protected conservation areas!)

“S**t! I didn’t iron the crease in my trousers. I’m going to look ridiculous!”

The cost of playing, the foosty attitudes of the clubhouse golf bores, the dress codes, and its social elitism are all seen as reasons why young people are not driven to take up the game, but rarely, it seems, are attitudes as primordial as those of the leading golf clubs’ approach to women’s membership.

Not that things don’t change (albeit with little grace) …

The day before the result of the 2014 Scottish independence referendum was announced, the result of a different vote saw women finally being allowed membership of the Royal and Ancient Golf Club of St Andrews; the so-called ‘home of golf’.

This was encouraging and it followed a period of asinine behaviour on behalf of its members when they had earlier denied honorary membership to the first woman vice-chancellor of St Andrews University; an accolade given previously to (male) vice-chancellors.

But let’s not forget that before the vote, the exclusion of women as members had given the club’s officers cause for concern, as sponsors of tournaments elsewhere had withdrawn from competitions held on the courses run by men-only clubs. So the R&A’s recognition of women’s membership was not entirely altruistic and the very same could be said of this week’s decision of the 238 year old Royal Aberdeen Golf Club finally to allow women to join as members.

That’s right! The Royal Aberdeen Golf Club has decided to join the 21st century and admit women members (only 100 years after women in the UK won the right to vote!); it also gives me an opportunity to revisit a limerick-of-old that has yet to be published in ALAW.

This one was originally penned after the St Andrews vote and pondered upon the thoughts of members that had for so long voted to continue with the exclusion of women. It can now be co-dedicated to their confrères in the Royal Aberdeen Golf Club!

His small world would soon fall apart
Cos they’d voted to have a new start
And to let women join
Was a knee in the groin
For that puce-faced, sclerotic old fart!

A limerick a week #72

#HimToo?

There was a wee bit of a stooshie ahead of this year’s celebration of Burns Night.

Liz Lochhead, Scotland’s former Makar (national poet) accused Burns of being a Weinsteinian sex pest, citing a letter that he once wrote that boasted of what was, at best, a ‘robust’ encounter.

It’s not the first time that Burns’ letter has been highlighted and, as with all these things, commentators take sides. Some agree with Lochhead’s interpretation of the letter’s wording, others disagree. In fact some even point to Lochhead’s current perspective as a contradiction of her earlier defence of Burns’ ribaldry.

So, was Burns a predatory sex pest, or a roguish rapscallion? Either way, he wrote fine verse in Scots about social justice, romance and wee, sleekit, cow’rin, tim’rous beasties?

From ‘To a Mouse: On Turning Her Up In Her Nest With The Plough’

The unearthing in recent years of celebrities of the 1970s and 1980s as sex offenders often brought forth the ‘defence’ that ‘things were different in those days’. I cannot recall that excuse being upheld in the courts, but if Lochhead’s interpretation of Burns’ words is correct (and it may not be) can the passage of 200-plus years allow a ‘they were different days’ defence for Burns and should it detract from his poetry today? Can we celebrate the poetry but not the man?

From ‘To A Louse: On Seeing One On A Lady’s Bonnet, At Church 1786’

I’ll leave the ‘sex pest or loveable rogue’ argument to the experts; meantime, here’s the belated Burns Night limerick …

There once was a Scotsman called Burns
Whose verses, one quickly discerns,
Concern a wee mouse
Or a walkabout louse
Or the couplings for which he so yearns.

Postscript: Despite the debate over Burns’ morality, his perspective in the first verse of The Rights of Woman is admirable, even if ‘the rights’ that its later verses espouse lack modernity!

While Europe’s eye is fix’d on mighty things,
The fate of Empires and the fall of Kings;
While quacks of State must each produce his plan,
And even children lisp the Rights of Man;
Amid this mighty fuss just let me mention,
The Rights of Woman merit some attention.

A limerick a week #71

He’s just let the sun go down …

So, Elton John has told the world that he’ll be through with touring after his next three-year world tour. At the age of 73 he will then be able to spend more time with his young family.

Personally, I’ve never been quite sure what to make of him. I like his music and clearly he’s massively talented, successful and a great showman, but seemingly prone to any number of hissy fits when things don’t quite please him or go his way. I wonder how that will play out when ensconced full-time with a pair of pre-teen kids?

… or as Philip Glenister said playing the character of Daniel Cotton in ‘From There to Here’: “I’m NOT angry; I’m just permanently IRRITATED!”

Actually, the news is full of his strops – just Google ‘Elton John hissy fits’ to see what I mean. Indeed, his partner David Furnish made a movie of some of Elton’s ‘little moments’ and humorously called it Tantrums and Tiaras. Furnish clearly has tener cojones!

I only once heard him perform live; it was in July 2003. I was in Bergen in a hotel on the opposite side of the harbour to Koengen, the city’s outdoor venue where he was appearing. Even in those circumstances you could tell he was a cut above as a musician; shame he’s also such a Prima John-a!

So, here’s the limerick …

Elton’s just broken the news
That he’s finished with paying his dues
To the music that flowed
Down the Yellow Brick Road
And that’s why he’s singing the blues!

A limerick a week #70

For every action …

… there is an equal and opposite reaction; aka Newton’s Third Law of Motion.

It comes as no surprise then, that in response to Donald Trump’s support of the so-called birthing movement that questioned Barack Obama’s true country of origin, a social media reaction has taken place due to the dubiety of Trump’s recent medical report.

The girthing movement as it is known gets its name from doubts over Trump’s recorded weight and height, but it’s greater concern will ultimately comprise the report’s mendacious support of his fitness for office.

No-one could ever accuse Trump of modesty or humblebragging (“I think I am, actually humble. I think I’m much more humble than you would understand.”), but his latest excursion into the realms of fantasy is a hoot, (“[I’m a] a very stable genius”).

Really? When he believes that “The concept of global warming was created by and for the Chinese to make U.S. manufacturing non-competitive”?

What an idiot!

And here’s my tuppence-worth for the week …

With veracity ever so sparse
‘The Donald’ continues his farce
And fantasy meets
Vainglorious tweets
That prove he’s a true genie-a**e

A limerick a week #69

It’s your funeral …

When Firstborn was little she once asked why dead people are buried in cemeteries. At her age the simplest and most concise answer was tell her that it was to stop people tripping over bodies in the street. That seemed to satisfy her curiosity!

Now, given recent news articles on a modern and (supposed) ecological approach to the disposal of corpses, the equivalent question may be to ask why do we simmer the dead in a pressure cooker (although the answer would stay the same).

This entered my mind last Spring when the Graun reported on the various legal ways that exist to avoid cluttering the streets with decaying matter. One novel approach that is gaining traction in North America comprises alkaline hydrolysis, where a body is put into a sealed container (a so-called resomator) and immersed in a strong solution of hydrogen peroxide; alkali at pH 14. This is then heated to 150°c or more under pressure (so that it doesn’t boil) and left to cook for a while before the liquid effluent is drained and the remaining ‘solids’ are rinsed.

Hair is dissolved and not bleached, which is food for thought for any ‘peroxide blondes’ out there!

Sounds charming, doesn’t it? However, it is said that the ecological benefits are that such ‘liquid cremations’ use far less energy than the traditional fire ceremonies and the liquid residue can be poured down the sanitary sewers or used as a garden fertiliser (the effluent is less alkali than the starting solution).

The solid residue comprises any implants or mercury amalgam fillings (beautifully clean, of course, and no mercury emissions to the atmosphere) and bones. The latter are then dried and crushed to produce the ‘ashes’ to be handed over to the next of kin (or, presumably, dug in to a rose bed!).

In the UK, the first application to start-up a resomation service is now on hold as the relevant licensing bodies remain unconvinced of the benign nature of the effluent. There is also a perception that the Great British public is not yet ready to see its loved ones poured down the drains.

Me? Well, although I think historical graveyards are terrific places to wander around, I don’t like modern ones. Neither do I like the idea of going up in flames or being dissolved. Personally, I want a woodland burial (many years in the future, of course) and, hopefully, without being embalmed (no chemical additives, please!).

Here’s a cheery limerick to finish with …

If the thought of it fills you with dread,
Be assured, or so it is said,
That St Peter awaits
At the Heavenly gates
While we’re slowly dissolving the dead!

A limerick a week #68

Words spoken, but not quite in jest

A recent Graun review of Jon Richardson’s comedy and our own escalating plans for a kitchen renovation came into conjunction this week.

Richardson’s comedy is often based on his obsessive-compulsive disorder. He hypothesizes two types of people: Putters and Leavers. Putters, as the name suggests, put away things that are left out (compulsively in Richardson’s case) and Leavers are, of course, the folk that leave things hanging around until a Putter comes along.

Richardson’s partner, the comedian Lucy Beaumont, is a Leaver and this conflicts with him domestically and is where a lot of his comedy arises. In our family we reverse the rôles, with me the Leaver and Management the Putter (Me: “Where’s my [insert any item that was left lying around]?” She: “I moved it!“).

Meanwhile, on the kitchen front, our plans include provision for a dog bed in the utility room, and this reflects our continuing conversation about getting a dog when I retire, which is where things crossover into Richardson’s world of Putters and Leavers. Discussions about how a dog would fit into the reshaping of our kitchen moved on to it being trained properly and that made me think: Is it possible to train a Leaver to be a Putter and vice versa?

I speculated that to avoid domestic disharmony, I could try to train Management to be a Leaver or she could try to train me as a Putter. In fact, it would be quite funny if we both tried successfully to train the other and managed to reverse our rôles. Her response was cutting: “Just you train the dog and leave me to train you!”

I know my place!

A puppy’s most likely to chew
A slipper, a sock or a shoe
But as you are slovenly
I’ll tell you (quite lovingly)
“You train the dog; I’ll train you!”

A limerick a week #67

Veni. Vidi. Vinum! I came. I saw. I drank!

My sister has a labrador retriever called Benjo. I was mulling this over the other day as I am 18 months into a two-and-a-half-year conversation with Management whether we should get a dog when I retire.

Labradors (retrievers or otherwise), spaniels (springer or cocker), trail hounds (a Cumbrian speciality), beagles and border collies have all come under consideration and a collie is now favourite.

We saw one, a real character, at the local rehoming centre the other week; an eight-year-old called Sam. Sadly I was still too far off retirement to try for him, but we were pleased to see that he didn’t have to wait long to be rehomed by someone else.

So what have dogs got to do with the header for this post? Well, Firstborn returned from my mother’s 90th birthday celebration with this pic of my sister laying into some wine …

Run out of rosé? Easy – just try equal parts of red and white!

… which, firstly, inspired this week’s ALAW:

An artist of sorts she just shrugs
When told to use glasses not mugs
“I’ve got the capacity
To drink with rapacity”
She said as she showed off her jugs!

and then it made me think. She shouldn’t have a labrador retriever. What she really needs is …

… a Bordeaux collie!

A limerick a week #66

Happy birthday (tomorrow), mum!

A few lines of verse in appreciation of nonagenarian matriarchs …

We have fathers and sisters and brothers,
Uncles and aunties and others
But now mine has reached ninety
We think it’s a mighty
Good thing we’ve especially got mothers!

Grandma K who is 90 years old tomorrow (or 1,079 months or 4,696 weeks or 32,872 days). On 29 April 2018, she will be exactly 33,000 days old!

Sentimental Saturday

Why don’t you read it again …

So, social media gives us several ways to recycle old posts, such as: #TakeMeBackTuesday, #WayBackWednesday, #ThrowbackThursday and #FlashbackFriday. Not much for Saturday, Sunday or Monday, though, and, as I am rather keen to recycle one of my old posts (to become an annual event at this time of year!), why don’t you click on the link below (#SentimentalSaturday) …

A limerick a week #12 – The Mytheltoe Bough aka A Game of Bride and Seek

… you’re welcome!

A limerick a week #65

How likely is that?

So, Basil Brush’s old mucker, Mr Rodney, is no more. Best known as Bob Ferris, one of TV’s Likely Lads of the 1960s and 70s, Rodney Bewes’ post-peak public utterances made him seem a rather bitter person.

Perhaps this was due to his struggle then to get the rôles he felt he deserved, or possibly he was envious of the fact that James Bolam playing Terry Collier, the other Likely Lad, went on to an acting career that entirely eclipsed that of his own.

Subsequently, Bewes seemed to go on and on about a ‘falling out’ with Bolam and that he longed for The Likely Lads to be updated as their characters aged. Perhaps fewer ‘heart-on-sleeve’ interviews would have been less of an irritant to Bolam who might, just might, have then been more receptive to the idea (though I doubt it).

Whereas Bolam and Bewes were the principal stars of both incarnations of The Likely Lads, they were more than matched by the actress Brigit Forsyth playing Bewes long-suffering, but spiky wife, Thelma, in the 1970s productions. I also think that Sheila Fearn playing Audrey, Terry’s sister, is too often overlooked for the part that she played in the series.

‘Thelma’ as played brilliantly by Brigit Forsyth

And I do also recall Anita Carey in her few appearances as Susan, Thelma’s sister. Along with Judi Bowker, Stacy Dorning and, of course, Jenny Agutter, she was one of the 1970s actresses that remain etched in the memory of schoolboy day-dreams!

Here’s the limerick …

The rift with his old mate was sad
And he envied the success that he’d had
So despite what we know
Of the eponymous show
He was really an Unlikely Lad.