Fun with friends, circa 1998. This is the sort of thing that sent me racing to open my email every morning before knuckling down to work at my upholstery business. Old Friend, by Perry L. “Willie” Williams, provides a prologue to the exchange.
From: Don "Tatereye" Tidwell
This was inspired by my knowledge of your other than rhyming talents,
when I was poked where I sit down by a wayward spring on a favorite
chair....but, beware (and be aware) of poetic license: :)
If I were a chair
In dire need of repair,
I would not throw my arms up
In total despair.
I'd go and find Mary,
That lady with flair,
And ask her quite sweetly
Her talents to share,
By re-doing my hair...
(or whatever is there)
If I were a chair
In dire need of repair.
From: Mary Sullivan
That's mighty chair-itable of you, Sweet Tater, and something tells
me we haven't ex-seated our limit just yet on the Loose Spring Saga.
Now if I were YOUR chair
Being sent for repair
And you sat on a spare --
Don't think I wouldn't care ...
Should you ask me to tell
If I'm handling it well,
I'd hysteric'ly yell,
"No, I'm jealous as hell!"
"That inferior seat
Doesn't know how to treat
You with love pure 'n' sweet
From your head to your feet."
"Though loose springs may appear,
I will cradle your rear
Ever gently, my dear,
If you'll just keep me here!"
(But don't get stuck. :)
I think I might swear
Were I pinched by a chair
That was merely a spare
For one in for repair.
Forewarned is forearmed
And though my life is charmed,
On a chair seat deformed,
I could damnwell be harmed.
Get busy, I say...
Work real fast don't delay.
Fret thee not 'bout yer pay...
FIX THE DAM CHAIR TODAY !
Or at least in time so you can bring it with ya. :)
From: Bernard Gluck
~oOo~ The Spring That Broke in Summer ~oOo~
Poor Tater was poked in the bottom
By a spring in his chair where it got'im
Darn near had a fit
Cause it hurt where he sit;
By the hole in his pants, you can spot'im.
From: Don Tidwell
Do ya think limericks will ever die a natural death??? Hope not.
Frayed and Betrayed
Betrayed by the hole in my pants,
Forevermore robbed of the chance,
To walk in the crowd
Head held high, walkin proud,
All because of a strange happenstance!
Nevermore will I sit in a chair
With a cold bayonet planted thar**
A tightly wound spring
Is a dangerous thing....
My advice to all sitters..... Beware!!
About that chair ...
Tater's chair is broken now and what does worry me
Is how the guy can manage now to ever watch TV
Mary's way down Texas way; the chair in Utah state
There ain't no way to get it there, so standin' is his fate.
A band-aid he is wearin' on the place where he got stuck
A big one showing lots of stars, I'd say the guy's in luck
In case he ever drops his pants with his behind in view
Whoever sees it will conclude that it's a nice tattoo.
In keeping with the tradition ...
'Tis nice of Bern to worry 'bout my favored broken chair...
I'd pictured him as stodgy, and as one who wouldn't care.
His worry is for naught though and with fancy runnin free,
He just assumes I'll have to stand while watchin the T.V.
(I got a spare chair)
He's wrong about another thing I 'aint about to pass.....
That big star studded band aid that's in place across
(that place where I got hurt)
He oughta know a guy like me has better things to do,
than go around jist moonin folks, to show off my tattoo;
From: Bob "Bubba" Badger
Now Tater's gone to belly-achin' 'bout his spring stuck
(place where he got hurt),
But there are those (who knew him "when") who'd say it's hard as brass.
So, 'bout them stars that Bernie says adorn Don's bandaged rump...
Could they be sparks? Did I hear "CLANG!?" Or was it muffled "Thump?"
Now Tater plays for sympathy because his butt is hurt,
But Bubba will admonish him with words quite terse and curt.
Ol' Tater ain't as tender as he's said (and that's no joke)
It sounded like some cymbals clashin' when his damn chair broke.
Hey Bubba ...
How 'bout fetchin Mary from away down Texas way,
And headin north to Utah where the sun shines every day.
Have her bring her needles and some cloth and special pliers,
So she can fix that dadgummed chair and all them broken wires.
My rear end really ain't as tough as you would seem to think,
It really took a nasty gash when that damned spring went "clink."
O'le Bernie thinks the Lone Star State is much too far away,
For Mary Dear to fix my chair, but there's gotta be a way;
So saddle up Ol'e Roland, and throw the gear in back,
And point him north to Utah on the highway's fastest track.
We'll make Ol Bernie eat his words, so he can plainly see,
I'll be sittin 'stead of standin, while I'm viewin my Tee Vee.
Now hold on just a minute...
While all you boys are plannin' this big job for me to do,
I'll have you know as projects go I've done got quite a few.
There's lots of folks who'd like to have their chairs upholstered fine,
And them that wants my services has got to stand in line.
I tried to circumvent this job by layin' on the guilt
About your pore chair's feelings, and I played it to the hilt,
How quickly all you men will cast a faithful gal aside
Just 'cause she's gettin' old and tends to prick holes in your hide.
Now Tater dear, you know I love you good and I'll confess,
I'd really hate to see your tender backside in distress.
So when I come to Utah I'll poke in a piece of foam,
But when I'm on vacation, friend, I'm leavin' tools at home!
(You'll hafta bring that chair to TEXAS! :)
Pore Ol' Tater
Now, Tater, don't you fret none 'bout that mean ol' Mary Ess.
I'll come up there and help you fix that chair that is a mess.
I'll bring a ball-pein hammer and a chain saw and a wrench,
And when we're through a-workin' that damn chair won't make you flinch.
I'll bring a bale of hay to stuff the cushions so they're plush
And burlap sacking for the tick should give your bum a rush.
But we'd best not do TOO damn good, 'cause I have heard it said
That when a chair gets comfy, it gets stole by Cuzzin Fred.
Let's Be Chair-itable Girls!
Now we have got a problem here
With Tater's broken chair.
It seems you gals ain't willin' now
To mend that gal-darned tear. ('scuse profanity)
And now you ladies are a-headin'
For the nearest door,
And leave the job for Bubba, well!
Ain't that what friends is for?
Miz Mary's got the tools and tacks
And nothin' much to do.
Experience ain't what she lacks.
Pure stubbornness, it's true!
From: Mary Sullivan
Oh, so you fellers think you can pass the mustard, huh?
Now the chair repair commences --
No attempt to spare expenses:
Workers whirlin' 'round like fan blades,
Bernie's standin' by with Band-aids.
See ol' Bubba swing that hammer
Catch the spirit, hear the clamor.
Sawdust flyin', haybale scattered,
Workin' like it really mattered.
Looky there at what a job done
Envious, some thief might rob one.
Tater's shotgun's poised and ready,
Lest that thing appeal to Freddy.
On the bench, arriving early,
Joyce and Mary watch with Shirley.
When the deed's pronounced as finished,
Hear their snickers undiminished.
Upside down and topsy-turvy,
Straight in spots that should be curvy.
Seeing wrong-side-outwards burlap,
Mary's hands will stay in her lap.
In the rush to finish fastest,
Boys will put the firstest lastest.
Rubba Dubba Toil and Trubba,
Better stick to drivin', Bubba.
(You just get us thar and "hit'll all be saw to." :)
Okay, Onion, you asked for it...
Why we had to hurry
See Joyce and Mary and Miss Shirley
Laughin' through the hurly-burly.
Sittin' on that bench so smugly
While we stretch upholst'ry snugly.
They ridicule our final version
Casting stones and vile aspersion.
And Bubba says "Hand me that wrench
'Cause now we got to fix that bench."
If Bubba wants us off that bench,
He's gonna hafta bring a winch.
(Now let's just see if he'll resist
A play on words that can't be missed.)
Miz Mary flung a challenge, and I hate to skirt a dare,
But this one makes me way too nervous...causes pallor.
I'd love to speak of winches for the wenches with a flair
But yet discretion is the better part of valor.
I think I'll stick to battles where, if I can weave and dance,
I might can dodge the slings and arrows when they come.
But, this here cause is hopeless. I ain't got a snowball's chance,
And though I may not be real bright, I ain't THAT dumb!
...and then, again, maybe I am!
Y'all heard me voice concern about the bench on which they sit,
But did you read between the lines of Mary's verse?
It only seems appropr'ate, when you come to think of it
To know that pore ol' bench has borne a weighty curse.
Now, Tater is a gentleman and offered them a seat
To rest their bodies while we changed his chair around.
Those "Snickers undiminished"...choc'late calories replete
And it's no wonder that ol' bench is fallin' down!
Sweet Tater, first-rater, you old chair donater,
You've saved Bubba's neck more than twice.
He should have been good for as long as he could,
But he's skating on mighty thin ice.
Yes, wrenches and winches and wenches on benches
Are too much temptation it's clear.
We lickers of Snickers must shorten his knickers
And dub him the Fourth Musketeer.
We'll nix further tricks as we fix him beTwix,
'Cause we girls have a plan of our own.
On Payday he'll play beyond Mars, Milky Way,
As we bask in our Bubba Free Zone!
(You too Bernie! :)
I figgered Mary'd be incensed and that she'd want to fight.
I figgered that my head would roll because of vicious bite.
I figgered she would slap me down and kick me with her feet.
But all this talk of candy? I'm skeered now! She's talkin' sweet!
It ain't gonna work, fellers, 'cause ...
If I had a nickel for each guilt trip laid on me,
I would not be doing furniture upholstery.
With a cache of servants catering to ev'ry whim,
I'd be barkin' orders out and orchestrating them:
"Pick my dirty socks up off the floor and wash the cars.
Bring me sodey water and a pile of Snickers bars!"
(But I'd bark real sweetly. :)
Whoever would have thought the likes of one old beat up chair,
Would perpetrate a coast to coast commotion....??
I'm quite surprised that Jeannie has'nt offered some advice,
From where she dictates far across the ocean.
I'm 'bout to draw my horns in and repeal my call for aid---
And petition Neiman Marcus for a new one....
Had I known my simple plea would cause a metered-rhyme tirade,
I'd agree with those who'd tell me that I blew one!
Miss Mary's got the know how and the tools to do the job,
But she's about to take off soon on her vacation.
And when she's off vacationin, she leaves her tools at home,
And is disinclined to help some poor relation!
Then Bubba says "I'll do the job" with hay and balin wire,
And a special kind of Texas Monkey Wrench---
(Good thing he 'aint said blow torch, or he'd set my house on fire)
While Joyce and Mary hee-haw from the bench.
I'm better now, the wound has healed, the pants have been repaired.
The need for all this help has gone away,
I'll relegate that wayward chair to some dark basement room,
And that is where the dadgum thing will stay,
Until the "Brothers Of The Ark" solicit for their cause,
And then I'll dig the damn thing out you see,
And place it with the other loot atop their loaded truck,
All in the cause of noble "Chair-It-Tee!!"