Sunday rerun: To "Sir" With Love

Well, the big news here in the big town this week past was that Elton John came to play a concert at the Civic Arena.  Yes, "Sir," he did!  He was knighted in his native England a couple of years ago, and now disc jockeys and news types love to call him ''Sir" Elton John, but since I am not a British citizen, I don't have to and you don't either.   They crack me up over there with their royalty, spending thousands upon thousands of pounds on solid gold carriages for the royal family.  And I am of English blood, although my prospects for knighthood seem to have diminished sharply.  But someday I hope to understand the appeal of this royal structure, the caste system that allows the working class to be regarded as "commoners" while the Duke of Worcestershire acts so saucy about being upper-class.

A friend of ours went to the EJ concert downtown and reported that the people in the row in front of her and her boyfriend were falling-down-drunk, projectile barfing, getting up and down at least four times and falling down the steps.  I was hardly surprised to read that they were "older" people.  This is 70's concert behavior all over again: spend a fortune to get a ticket to hear one of your favorite performers and then show up for the show so wasted that you don't hear a sober note - and for bonus obnoxiousness, you put a crimp in the enjoyment of others as you do the technicolor yawn all over their seating area.  Someday I hope to understand the allure of being publicly drunk and asinine.

And I'm sorry, Peggy. As much as I love you, I still prefer poems that rhyme. Novel concept, I know.  But give me Nipsey Russell: 

Don't change the baby on the waterbed,

the consequences might be grim.

You'll never know if he's wetting the bed

or the bed is wetting HIM!

over this sort of thing:

Flames          by Billy Collins

Smokey the Bear heads
into the autumn woods
with a red can of gasoline
and a box of wooden matches.

His ranger's hat is cocked
at a disturbing angle.

His brown fur gleams
under the high sun
as his paws, the size
of catcher's mitts,
crackle into the distance.

He is sick of dispensing
warnings to the careless,
the half-wit camper,
the dumbbell hiker.

He is going to show them
how a professional does it. 

Here is my problem with calling this poetry.  Actually, two problems.  First is that "Smokey the Bear heads into the autumn woods..." sounds like the opening line of a gag ("Smokey the Bear walks into a bar...")  and the second is, change the punctuation a little, and you have a tiny essay or something.  Just taking prose and chopping it up does not make it poetry, in my opinion.  

To make my point, here's a news article right off the press wire:

Orioles solid as Red Sox lose 10th straight

The Associated Press

SARASOTA, Fla. - Some players use spring training to get ready for the regular season. Others hope to make an impression on the manager while fighting for a roster spot.

Baltimore Orioles pitcher Chris Tillman came to camp with a good chance to make the starting rotation, but instead of getting wrapped up in the competition, the 22-year-old focused on becoming a better pitcher.

Tillman continued the process Sunday, allowing three runs in 52/3 innings to help the Orioles beat the Boston Red Sox 4-3.

And here it is as free verse:

Some players

use spring training

to get ready 

for the regular season. 

Others hope to make an impression

on the manager

while fighting for a roster spot.

Baltimore Orioles pitcher Chris Tillman came to camp 

with a good chance 

to make the starting rotation,

but 

instead of getting wrapped up in the competition, 

the 22-year-old focused on

becoming a better pitcher.

Tillman continued the process

Sunday,

allowing three runs in 5 2/3 innings

to help the Orioles beat the Boston Red Sox

4-3.

I tried this with the online recipe for Arugula Surprise and the Dow-Jones averages, but it wasn't as funny.  One more from Nipsey, please?

I just saw a move about a mermaid.

Did I like it? I don't know why!

There's not enough woman to make love to,

and too much fish to fry!