Humor Me!

You're probably familiar with the adage (erroneously attributed to George Bernard Shaw) about two countries separated by a common language and to some extent it's true, but I'd like to introduce you to two people who have provided me with much amusement  in my life - Ogden Nash, the American and Cyril Fletcher, the Englishman. They both use that common language in distinctly different ways to enrich our lives with humor. Here are two examples.

Frederic Ogden Nash (August 19, 1902 – May 19, 1971) was an American poet well known for his light verse. At the time of his death in 1971, The New York Times said his "droll verse with its unconventional rhymes made him the country's best-known producer of humorous poetry".^[1] Nash wrote over 500 pieces of comic verse. The best of his work was published in 14 volumes between 1931 and 1972. (Wikipedia)

Look What You Did, Christopher!  

In fourteen hundred and ninety-two,
Someone sailed the ocean blue.
Somebody borrowed the fare in Spain
For a business trip on the bounding main,
And to prove to the people, by actual test,
You could get to the East by sailing West.
Somebody said, Sail on! Sail on!
And studied China and China's lingo,
And cried from the bow, There's China now!
And promptly bumped into San Domingo.
Somebody murmured, Oh dear, oh dear!
I've discovered the Western Hemisphere.

And that, you may think, my friends, was that.
But it wasn't. Not by a fireman's hat.
Well enough wasn't left alone,
And Columbus was only a cornerstone.
There came the Spaniards,
There came the Greeks,
There came the Pilgrims in leather breeks.
There came the Dutch,
And the Poles and Swedes,
The Persians, too,
And perhaps the Medes,
The Letts, the Lapps, and the Lithuanians,
Regal Russians, and ripe Roumanians.
There came the French
And there came the Finns,
And the Japanese

With their formal grins.
The Tartars came,
And the Terrible Turks -
In a word, humanity shot the works.
And the country that should have been Cathay
Decided to be
The U.S.A.

And that, you may think, my friends, was that.
But it wasn't. Not by a fireman's hat.
Christopher C. was the cornerstone,
And well enough wasn't left alone.
For those who followed
When he was through,
They burned to discover something, too.
Somebody, bored with rural scenery,
Went to work and invented machinery,
While a couple of other mental giants
Got together
And thought up Science.
Platinum blondes
(They were once peroxide),
Peruvian bonds
And carbon monoxide,
Tax evaders
And Vitamin A,
Vice crusaders,
And tattletale gray -
These, with many another phobia,
We owe to that famous Twelfth of Octobia.
O misery, misery, mumble and moan!
Someone invented the telephone,
And interrupted a nation's slumbers,
Ringing wrong but similar numbers.
Someone devised the silver screen
And the intimate Hollywood magazine,
And life is a Hades
Of clicking cameras,
And foreign ladies
Behaving amorous.
Gags have erased
Amusing dialog,
As gas has replaced
The crackling firelog.
All that glitters is sold as gold,
And our daily diet grows odder and odder,

And breakfast foods are dusty and cold -
It's a wise child
That knows its fodder.
Someone invented the automobile,
And good Americans took the wheel
To view American rivers and rills
And justly famous forests and hills -
But someone equally enterprising
Had invented billboard advertising.
You linger at home
In dark despair,
And wistfully try the electric air.
You hope against hope for a quiz imperial,
And what do they give you?
A doctor serial.
Oh, Columbus was only a cornerstone,
And well enough wasn't left alone,
For the Inquisition was less tyrannical
Than the iron rules of an age mechanical,
Which, because of an error in '92,
Are clamped like corsets on me and you,
While Children of Nature we'd be today
If San Domingo
Had been Cathay.

And that, you may think, my friends, is that.

But it isn't - not by a fireman's hat.
The American people,
With grins jocose,
Always survive the fatal dose.
And though our systems are slightly wobbly,
We'll fool the doctor this time, probly.**

Cyril Fletcher (25 June 1913 – 2 January 2005) was an English comedian; his catchphrase was 'Pin back your lugholes'. He was most famous for his Odd Odes, which later formed a section of the television show That's Life!. Fletcher had first begun performing the Odd Odes in 1937, long before they first appeared on television (though he did appear on pre-World War II television).^[1] He came up with the idea when he was short of material for a radio show. The first Odd Ode was a comic, yet sentimental, reading of Edgar Wallace's war poem Dreaming of Thee. Following this broadcast he was given a regular programme on Radio Luxembourg; it was this show that brought him to national attention. He called himself "the odd oder". (Wikipedia)

Sonia Snell

This is the tale of Sonia Snell,
To whom an accident befell.
An accident which may well seem
Embarrassing in the extreme.
It happened, as it does to many,
That Sonia had to spend a penny.
She entered in with modest grace
The properly appointed place
Provided at the railway station,
And there she sat in meditation,
Unfortunately unacquainted
The woodwork had been newly painted
Which made poor Sonia realise
Her inability to rise.

And though she struggled, pulled and yelled
She found that she was firmly held.
She raised her voice in mournful shout
"Please someone come and help me out."
Her cries for help then quickly brought
A crowd of every kind and sort.
They stood around and feebly sniggered
And all they said was "I'll be jiggered."
"Gor blimey" said the ancient porter
"We ought to soak her off with water."
The Station Master and the staff
Were most perverse and did not laugh
But lugged at Sonia's hands and feet
And could not get her off the seat.
The carpenter arrived at last
And, finding Sonia still stuck fast
Remarked "I know what I can do',
And neatly sawed the seat right through.
Sonia arose, only to find
A wooden halo on behind.
An ambulance came down the street
And bore her off, complete with seat
To take the wooden bustled gal
Off quickly to the hospital.
They hurried Sonia off inside
After a short but painful ride
And seizing her by heels and head
Laid her face down on the bed.

The doctors all came on parade
To render her immediate aid.
A surgeon said "Upon my word
Could anything be more absurd,
Have any of you, I implore, 

Seen anything like this before?"
"Yes" said a student, unashamed,
"Frequently... but never framed."**