I'd rather the Army play tones

I'd rather the Army play tones
on woodwinds than fly any drones.
A bomb or two less
is fine, I confess;
but please spare those long brass trombones!

Tempest in a Milk Carton

The Senior Lunch today down at the Center is roast pork, mashed potatoes, diced beets, and a large white fluffy dinner roll with butter. And a side of applesauce.

They serve it cafeteria style, so I take my plate, grab 2 cartons of 1 percent milk, and head over to the condiment table for some hot sauce.

And there I collide with one of the cranks that infest the Senior Center.

A scruffy old man, in patched overalls, with a threadbare DEKALB seed cap wedged firmly on his head, is pouring ketchup ove his beets. He says:

"Hey, you can't have two milks. You're only supposed to have one."

This is news to me. I always take two.

"Who says?" I ask politely.

"You're supposed to take one, not two." he repeats, his eyes ablaze with the unholy zeal of the stickler.

I decide that today is not the day I will be kind to idiots, so I silently turn my back on him to go to my table. He follows me.

"You better put that other milk back so's there's enough fer everbody" he grates through his long yellow teeth.

"Ah, go peddle your papers" I tell him. I have always wanted to use that phrase since hearing Victor Mature snarl it in a gangster movie.

He stands unmoving above me as I eat. Like a senile obelisk.

He finally whirls and strides away. I am left in peace, but not for long. He comes back with the Senior Lunch supervisor, an earnest young man with rimless glasses and a crew cut.

The supervisor is plainly all at sea, since I am obviously not doing anything upsetting or immoral.

"You see what I mean?" says DEKALB in triumph.

"Is there a problem?" the supervisor asks no one in particular.

I continue to eat my lunch, dipping my roast pork into the applesauce -- something I learned to do when I lived in Florida.

At this, DEKALB snorts and shakes his head in disgust, then takes his tray over to another table, where he slams it down -- startling an old woman in a flowered nightie dozing over a Nora Roberts novel.

Now the supervisor, as is the wont of supervisors worldwide and forever, decides he'd better earn his keep by annoying someone. And that someone is me.

"Just don't let it happen again" he tells me, rather uncertainly.

Now maybe he means it as a mild joke, a way to smooth over a rough patch in the day's events. But I choose not to take it that way.

I fix him with a beady eye -- I practice piercing looks in the mirror every morning, so I'm pretty effective. And I say, deadpan, "Don't let WHAT happen again?"

 At this, the supervisor pretends to hear his name being called, gives me a friendly bob of the head, and skitters away.

I finish my lunch, including both cartons of milk. The pork is a bit dry, but dipping it in the apple sauce helps. Busing my tray, I notice several cartons of milk left out on the condiment table, so I ask one of the nice lunch ladies about it.

"Oh" she says, "there's always some milk left over after lunch. Take 'em if you want -- otherwise we just have to throw them out."

Nonverbal Dominance

The silent treatment is the way a woman rules the roost.
Nonverbal and non-anything, it first was introduced
by Eve when Adam would not taste the apple she had bit;
she stayed so anti-verbal that he almost had a fit. 

To dominate coworkers, use of body language can
make them start to twitch and drain the darkest, deepest tan.
It's almost like some voodoo or a witchcraft silently
making thralls of colleagues just by bending arm or knee.

Assertive female leaders can the corp'rate ladder climb
if they will just concentrate on using pantomime.
And now that I have had my say about this hot bombshell,
I'm going home to my dear wife who's sure to give me  ****

Dumb Laws

Dumb laws come from dumb people, and dumb people come from . . . where?
Dumb schools with dumber teachers or dumb chapels full of prayer.
Dumb parents make dumb children, who spread dumbness all around
like disease that threatens to put you into the ground.

Ev'rytime a dumb law is struck down dumb people groan,
and say the Feds are evil and will not leave them alone.
And then instead of realizing that they might be dumb
the dumb people start marching as they beat upon a drum.

They beat upon a drum so other dumb people will know
that dumb laws will not go away, in summer or in snow.
Legislatures are so dumb that they cannot be stopped;
dumbness is like merchandise that never can be swapped. 

Food Wars

You can scorn my church and party; you may sneer at my physique --
but don't you dare say anything about my cloves or leek!
It may be a free country, where all voices can be heard,
but I will start a lawsuit if you don't like lemon curd.
And when it comes to grass-fed and organic caviar
I'll gladly get into the ring and with you grimly spar.
My food must be correct in ev'ry manner, shape, and source;
and if my spouse thinks diff'rent I'll just file for a divorce! 

Louie's Bar, Payne Avenue

Louie's Bar, Payne Avenue, was quite a classy joint;
they didn't care how old you were if you could only point
at the poison you would drink until the punches flew.
(Topics could be politics, the weather, Rod Carew.)
Twas deep and dark and comfy, with the smell of yeasty years;
a place a guy could think about the cosmos over beers.
 But now the place is shuttered, soon to be a coffee shop,
or some place they brew craft stout, and not good old-fashioned slop.
I'll have to take my benders to another cocktail lounge,
where I can start a new bar tab and see what I can scrounge . . . 

Paul Bunyan

Paul Bunyan with Babe the blue ox
strode over the bogs and the rocks,
to slice up the trees
as if they were cheese;
but did not replant, the lummox!

I once knew a man from Nantucket

I once knew a man from Nantucket
who said "I just never can duck it;
my hometown is noted
for lim'ricks oft quoted
that would make a parson upchuck it!"

Limerick Ideas Wanted

I'm soliciting ideas and suggestions for future limericks.

If there is anything that especially bugs you, puzzles you, or enthralls you, please share it with me so I can create a limerick about it. Or if want one of your own pieces limericked, I'll be happy to do that as well. Once it's done, you'll get it before anyone else and I'll delay posting it myself in case you want to use it first.

Thanks!
Tim Torkildson
571-409-8200

Fresh produce

Fresh produce is always a joy,
whether jackfruit or baby bok choy.
When prices are low
I buy with gusto,
to cook with the juice of the soy.