OWING TO THE continuing writers’ strike, no new events have been scripted for the year 2008. The year will therefore be filled in with events rerun from previous years. All participants in the new year are invited to nominate their favorite presidential election, their favorite terrorist attack, their favorite corporate corruption scandal, their favorite environmental disaster, and their favorite celebrity meltdown to be repeated in 2008.
SEVERAL YEARS AGO, Dr. Boli heard of a young man who had the bright idea of applying for the position of poet laureate to the island nation of Kiribati. Much to Dr. Boli’s surprise, the young man’s proposal was accepted. What added to Dr. Boli’s surprise was the fact that the young man, whose idiom was decidedly colloquial, obviously did not know how to pronounce the name “Kiribati,” which Dr. Boli would have thought would be one of the few requirements for his position. Dr. Boli therefore wrote this poem in response, not to compete for the position of poet laureate, but merely for the wholly laudable purpose of showing that he knows how to pronounce “Kiribati,” which the rhyme scheme makes abundantly evident. This is the poem that the poet laureate of Kiribati ought to have written.
Havin’ once seen a Polynesian lass
Who danced in a grass skirt without a top on,
I’m startin’ to believe that Kiribati
Is just the sort of isle I’d like to stop on.
So if you don’t mind payin’ me for sittin’
And writin’ poems (I’m hopin’ that you don’t),
For ten bucks each, I’ll read you what I’ve written—
Or, better yet, for twenty bucks, I won’t.
V for the amateur Violinist,
Whose tone (regrettably) was the thinnest
That ever was heard from a violin.
You never heard anything quite so thin.
It was thinner than twigs or the legs of plovers,
Thinner than models on magazine covers;
Thinner than greyhounds, thinner than whippets;
Thinner than hairs or the tiniest snippets
Of fur from a vole or a shrew or a bat:
Whatever you think, it was thinner than that.
At last, one day, his friends took him aside
And explained why they all seemed to run and hide
Whenever he reached for his violin.
And when, in the end, their advice had sunk in,
He finally put his fiddle to bed
And took up the theremin instead.
Christmas Number.
Christmas tree. The Christmas tree was originally a pagan fertility symbol: it was a physical reminder that, after the holiday season, the tree would be taken to a central location in the village and composted to nourish next year’s crops.
Poinsettias. Poinsettias have to be forced to bloom at Christmas time, but they don’t have to like it.
Presents, wrapping. The custom of wrapping Christmas presents originated in Puritan New England, where the celebration of Christmas was banned. Clandestine Christmas celebrants disguised their presents by bundling them in plain rag paper and prominently marking the bundles “Primers,” which were New England’s leading export at the time.
Tape, invisible. In 1973, the LePage’s company finally succeeded in formulating a truly invisible adhesive tape. Unfortunately, it proved impossible to sell a product that no one could see. Somewhere in East Liberty a warehouse still holds the original manufacturing run, but no one knows where. Treasure-seekers have been feeling their way around East Liberty warehouses for years looking for it.
White Christmas. Irving Berlin wrote the song “White Christmas” as a throwaway commercial jingle for White’s Department Store in Greensburg. He was rather embarrassed when it achieved a certain measure of popularity nationwide.
Nautical Supplement.
Barnacles. Before human sailors conquered the water, ancient barnacles had to build their own boats.
Bermuda Triangle. The so-called “Bermuda Triangle” is more accurately described as a heptagon.
Drake. Although today we regard Sir Francis Drake’s circumnavigation of the world as a remarkable feat, Queen Elizabeth I was unimpressed, saying that he had merely ended up back where he had started.
Panama Canal. Theodore Roosevelt’s dream of a trans-Panamanian turnpike was shattered when a catastrophic error in engineering flooded the whole roadbed.
Vikings. Medieval lore had it that the Vikings could sail into the wind—a reputation that added much to the dread and consternation of their enemies. In reality, it was a simple optical illusion, which the Vikings created by affixing a figurehead to the stern of each ship.
