Happy Thanksgiving

This nightmare got me out of bed:

I was teaching college again and couldn’t get the whippersnappers to hear, let alone listen to, what I was saying – not least because my mother was visiting the class, and her phone kept ringing. It played the overture to Rossini’s William Tell.

I had to ask her to leave the room.

I hope the students understood the gravity of the offense.

Happy Thanksgiving. Karin took Daniel and Abel to her mother’s. I stayed behind with Samuel, who was ill. I cleaned the basement.

I’ve been mystified by a billboard proclaiming KFC’s temporary “festive” pot-pie. How’s it supposed to differ from ordinary pot-pie?

My research has yielded no satisfactory answer – although I’ve read that this pot-pie doesn’t contain turkey (as I thought it might).

Obviously, to find out, I should hike over to KFC and eat one of these new pot-pies.

P.S. Karin wonders if the campaign is a response to McDonald’s’s “holiday” pies.

August’s poem

This one, from Trial by Jury, is by the librettist W.S. Gilbert.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Song – Judge
When I, good friends, was called to the bar,
I’d an appetite fresh and hearty,
But I was, as many young barristers are,
An impecunious party.
I’d a swallow-tail coat of a beautiful blue –
And a brief which I bought of a booby –
A couple of shirts, and a collar or two,
And a ring that looked like a ruby!

Chorus
A couple of shirts, and collar or two,
And a ring that looked like a ruby!

In Westminister Hall I danced a dance,
Like a semi-despondent fury;
For I thought I never should hit on a chance
Of addressing a British Jury –
But I soon got tired of third-class journeys,
And dinners of bread and water;
So I fell in love with a rich attorney’s
Elderly, ugly daughter.

So he fell in love [etc.].

The rich attorney, he jumped with joy,
And replied to my fond professions:
“You’ll reap the reward of your pluck, my boy
At the Bailey and Middlesex Sessions.
You’ll soon get used to her looks,” said he,
“And a very nice girl you will find her!
She may very well pass for forty-three
In the dusk, with a light behind her!”

She has often been taken for forty-three
In the dusk, with a light behind her.

The rich attorney was good as his word;
The briefs came trooping gaily,
And every day my voice was heard
At the Sessions or Ancient Bailey.
All thieves who could my fees afford
Relied on my orations,
And many a burglar I’ve restored
To his friends and his relations.

And many a burglar [etc.].

At length I became as rich as the Gurneys –
An incubus then I thought her,
So I threw over that rich attorney’s
Elderly, ugly daughter.
The rich attorney my character high
Tried vainly to disparage –
And now, if you please, I’m ready to try
This Breach of Promise of Marriage!

And now, if you please, he’s ready to try
This Breach of Promise of Marriage.

Judge
For now I am a Judge!

All
And a good Judge too!

Yes, now I am a Judge!

And a good Judge too!

Though all my law is fudge,
Yet I’ll never, never budge,
But I’ll live and die a Judge!

And a good Judge too!

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Thus, a century later, the Happy Mondays released their track “Judge Fudge.” Its lyrics also would merit inclusion in this series of poems.