July 7 - Ostrich Weekly Forecast
July's minor holidays, and an ode to the clerihew.
Welcome to the A-List month for minor holidays! I had ambitions of dropping a pound or two this month, but the responsibilities of celebration will clearly prevent that. The eleventh, by itself, may do me in. Ah, well.
Apologies for the length. I left stuff out, I promise.
July's minor celebrations, dates in parentheses: gingersnaps (1), postage stamps (1), caesar salad (4), spareribs (4), bikinis [unfair, given the rest] (5), graham crackers (5), apple turnovers (6), workaholics (5), fried chicken (6), koi (7), rock 'n' roll (7), macaroni (7), cows (8), chronic disease (10), piña coladas (10), kittens (10), french fries (11), mojitos (11), blueberry muffins (11), rainier cherries (11), paper bags (12), pecan pie (12), barbershop music (13), franks 'n' beans (13), mac and cheese (14), nudity (14), tape measures (14) [yes, Nude Day is Tape Measure Day; is no one safe?], gummi worms (15), tapioca pudding (15), horses (15), corn fritters (16), hot dogs (16), tattoos (17), caviar (18), daiquiris (19), the moon (20), fortune cookies (20), ice cream (20), mangoes (22), hammocks (22), drive-thrus (24), cousins [hi, cousins!] (24), Amelia Earhart (24), tequila (24), hot fudge sundaes (25), merry-go-rounds (25), cowboys (26), aunts and uncles [hi, niblings!] (26), scotch (27), creme brulee (27), lasagna (29), fathers-in-law [hi, Don!] (29), cheesecake (30), mutts (31).
But of utmost importance, July 10th is the birthday of Edmund Clerihew Bentley, inventor of the clerihew, a poetry style that's irritating, educational and tepidly humorous—so completely on-brand for me, I can't believe I hadn't heard of it sooner!
A clerihew poem must include:
- Four lines.
- Rhyming couplets of AA/BB.
- A person's name in the first line.
- A biographical nugget.
- An attempt at humor.
As represented in this, by the man himself:
Sir Humphry Davy
Abominated gravy.
He lived in the odium
Of having discovered sodium.
Or another of his:
George the Third
Ought never to have occurred.
One can only wonder
At so grotesque a blunder.
And if you thought the tradition should die with him, no. People wrote books and books of these. Like Richard Rhodes, who wrote:
Sir James Dewar
Is a better man than you are
None of you asses
Can liquefy gases.
Or the winner of a contest in Games magazine:
Did Descartes
Depart
With the thought
"Therefore I'm not"?
