Number Five

The Ballad of Smallish the Dog

(To Waddell, in Memoriam)

He was a Crescent Moon dog
On a Crescent Moon night.
He was sleepin' like a log
While his master's gettin' tight.
He was catchin' forty winks,
Takin' shelter from the storm,
Just as silent as the Sphinx,
He was busy keepin' warm.
Though his master called him Smallish,
In his heart he felt like Jim.
Never Ringo, George, or Paulish;
Not a tiny bit like Tim.
But it really didn't matter
If his moniker was bad
When some food was in his platter
And his master was his dad.

--LJC


NORBERT AND THE MAGIC SPONGE

I got taken to a spa
thought it seemed kinda girly
our appointment was at nine
and that seemed kinda early

for a stranger to be rubbin'
and massaging on my feet
when she put pressure on my coccyx
reservations did retreat

now I'm laid out and relaxing
with cucumbers on my eyes
I don't even feel embarrassed
'bout seaweed wrapped around my thighs

I smell soothing herbal essence
it's aromatherapy
I'm having visions of nirvana
it's like laid-back LSD

they say next I'll have a sauna
and a thrilling icy plunge
then a fellow who's named Norbert
will complete me with a sponge

(time passes)

now I'm all done at the spa
and I admit I had some doubt
but I'm coming back next week
for what Norbert calls "the grout"

at least, that's what I think he said.

--Mark Trail


(The kitchen of a Chinese restaurant. Abbott and Costello get shoved through the swinging doors by the Manager.)

Manager: You no pay for your food, you cook for others!

(The Manager leaves.)
Abbott: All right! All right! Let's get started here! Fortunately, I know something about cooking.
Costello: And I can be your assistant, Abbott.
Abbott: That's fine. That's fine. First, I want to make sure I have everything I need. Bok choi?
Costello: I don't know if this is bok choi or fron' choi, but it's one or the other.
Abbott: Give me that! Now I need a sauce. Hand me the sauce.
Costello: What sauce?Abbott: Duck. (Costello falls to the floor.) What are you doing down there?
Costello: But you said--
Abbott: I said to hand me the sauce.
Costello: What sauce?
Abbott: Duck. (Costello falls to the floor.) Get up off the floor! What's the matter with you?
Costello: I'm just doing what you tell me. I'm a good assistant.
Abbott: If you want to be a good assistant, then do what I tell you. Now, hand me the sauce.
Costello: What sauce?
Abbott: Duck. (Costello falls to the floor.) What the matter with you? Aren't we in enough trouble?
Costello: How should I know? I'm spending half my time on the floor!
Abbott: I don't know what gets into you! All I ask is that you do me a simple favor, and you can't even do that.
Costello: I'm trying, Abbott! I want to be a good assistant. Please let me help you, Abbott.
Abbott: Then do what I ask you and give me the sauce.
Costello: What sauce?
Abbott: Duck. (Costello falls to the floor.) What's the matter with you? Why won't you hand me the duck sauce?
Costello: You mean they named some sauce after a duck?
Abbott: That's right.
Costello: Well, now I've seen everything!
--LJC


Raymond Chandler used short stories he had written, usually combining two or three together, to produce his first three (and best) novels. He called the process “cannibalizing” his own work.

I wish that I could say that I’m cannibalizing my work, but the fact is that I’m just plain stealing. A good 50 percent of what I’ve contributed to “The Conning Tower” so far has been stuff I’ve either posted on another blog or came up with in my reckless youth. (Come to think of it, that’s not true. My youth was fairly recked.)

It’s not easy to admit when one (I always use the circumlocution “one” when what I mean is “me”) has sunk to such levels as to pilfer from oneself, but there it is. Thief and victim, all in one am I.

--LJC