On The Lost Art Of Creative Rhyming
A Geezer’s Notebook, By Jim Foster
If you recall we were discussing my poor reading retention, poetry, and the Education Ministry’s tendency to clutter children’s minds with stuff they will never use.
What we need to discuss today is, what is the most important skill a young man needs to acquire if he is to be considered a genius? A few woman have attempted to enter this exclusive field but few have advanced much beyond beginner’s level, not that many have tried. It seems to be somewhat beyond the capability of most ladies. This skill appears to be a part of the male DNA but for reasons unknown to the medical community, almost never found in the makeup of the female mind. I don’t know why the ladies were denied this ability, but sadly they were. This skill, or talent if you will, is the mental capacity to remember vast numbers of limericks, and in particular as the French say, le sale limerick. In English, the dirty limerick.
I believe there was a feeble attempt to introduce it into the Grade 12 curriculum but narrow-minded religious parliamentarians and stick-in-the-muds intervened and the subject along with erotic pole dancing was savagely ripped from the program. Nevertheless a few of us took it upon ourselves to teach it to the masses, in particular, teenage boys with little to do and lots of time to do it.
There was one lady who almost mastered the skill. Let us read an account of a 1974 interview with Ms. Abigail Simmons, a retired poetess, in her home, Mushroom Cottage, near Waltham on the Wolds. Ms. Simmons’ classic limerick, There Was An Old Girl From Penrhyndeudraeth, received critical acclaim by the Welsh Literary Society in spite of the fact she was never able to come up with a second line.
However I had the honour of knowing a number of experts in the field of limerick poetry and perhaps the greatest of them all, the late great, Harry Speed, high school teacher, raconteur, and noted thespian. When Harry and I were in the cast of Oh Really Orillia? (a group of singers, dancers and comics on a par with the finest professional casts of Broadway; we would have gone on tour but our wives and husbands threatened to cut off our allowance and certain other fringe benefits.)
During rehearsals Mr. Speed, with my humble assistance, would delight the ladies of the cast with lewd stories and limericks until they either left the room in tears or threatened to leave the show.
I, of course, joined him since it is the one, perhaps only, skill I mastered and has kept me banned from mixed parties for several years.
If you are not familiar with the rhyming scheme of a limerick, it is AABBA. A good example is in the age-old classic There was a young man from Boston. The lines end with Boston, Austin, ass, gas, and lost ’em.It’s quite humorous as you can see. When you finish chortling we shall move on.
Most often, limericks feature young ladies, such as There was a young lady from France who got on a train by chance, or There was a young lady from Spain who stuck her leg over a train. As you might expect, all sorts of humorous things befall the girls. I would tell you what they were but Mr. Swartz, my esteemed editor has become a bit of a prude in his old age even threatening to have me fired and charged under a number of obscenity laws.
When I tried to slip in There was an old girl from Nantucket, who went down a well in a bucket, John had some sort of seizure and had to be taken away in an ambulance. With some of the stuff they get away with on Facebook I don’t know why he should worry about a few minor swear words, but it’s his choice and your loss.
I suppose some limericks do come fairly close to the line between good taste and outright filth (especially the better ones) and shouldn’t be on the public school curriculum, but I see no reason why A Hermit Named Dave or A Pretty Young Girl From Skilditchin who was scratching herself in the kitchen couldn’t be introduced in Grade 11 or 12. The students would be much better prepared for life in a university dormitory. We know young men often don’t know what to say when approaching members of the opposite sex. Reciting either of those two limericks would be a good beginning. Although admittedly both nearly got Harry and I kicked out of Oh Really, Orillia? Especially the one about Dave.
(Editor’s note: the only words frowned upon here at SUNonline/Orillia are Carlin’s Seven Dirty words – later expanded by Carlin to ten, so there!)
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