I love that term “water of life”. Any dedicated whiskey drinker has heard that phrase and knows what it means. Those of you who do not partake in whiskeys, then I’ll try to educate you a bit. I’m not exactly sure at what age I had my first sip of whiskey, but it must have been in my eighth year while playing Checkers with my grandfather. He was an avid winemaker, and he loved his whiskeys and brandies. In his old and dirty cellar near the furnace, he had huge casks of wine and brandy that he was making. Sitting in between those two casks was a small table, two old chairs and a Checkers game that was much older than I was. That’s where my whiskey, wine, brandy, and Checkers education began and eventually turned me into quite a winemaker myself and to become an aficionado of whiskey and brandy. I can never take a drink of Jack Daniels or Jim Beam or any of the other whiskeys without thinking about my grandfather. He was freaking awesome.
On one of my better half’s many recent shopping safaris she discovered a very small book titled “Whiskey” and in her infinite wisdom purchased it immediately and brought it home for me. After reading through the book, it’s only fair that I share some of the wisdom about whiskey that some of you probably have never heard. Let’s get started.
” The light music of whiskey falling into a glass – an agreeable interlude.” James Joyce
It seems that Americans in general prefer bourbon style whiskeys, but they are willing to take a chance with some of the Irish and Canadian whiskeys. Here are the top five sellers in the United States:
Jack Daniels Bourbon Whiskey
Crown Royal Canadian Whiskey
Fireball Canadian Whiskey
Jim Beam Bourbon Whiskey
Jamison Irish Whiskey
Jack Daniels is the world’s most famous whiskey brand. The actual Jack Daniels learned how to make whiskey at the age of six. Fully grown Jack Daniels was a diminutive 5’2″ tall and wore a size four shoe.
“Always carry a flagon of whiskey in case of snakebite and furthermore always carry a small snake.” W. C. Fields
In October 2019 at an auction at Sotheby’s in England a bottle of Macallan Fine and Rare, 60-year-old whiskey (Cask Number 263) distilled in 1926 sold for $1.9 million. The 700 ml bottle of 20 shots would cost you $95,000 per shot.
“What whiskey will not cure, there is no cure for.” Irish Proverb
He was an American writer and professor of biochemistry at Boston University. A prolific writer, he wrote or edited more than 500 books. He also wrote an estimated 90,000 letters and postcards. Best known for his hard science fiction, Asimov also wrote mysteries and fantasy, as well as a great deal of non-fiction.
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I’ve been a fan of Isaac Asimov, for as long as I can remember. I’ve tried to read everything of his that I could find and have never regretted it. He’s one of the most prolific writers who’ve ever lived and is well-versed in virtually any topic someone would like to talk about. Over the years I’ve also discovered that he was one of the funniest writers as well and has written books of limericks and stories that were outrageously funny. I recently acquired a book of his from 1992 (the year of his death) titled Azimov Laughs Again. It’s a volume of funny stories from his life as well as some of his favorite jokes and limericks. Here are a couple jokes to help get your day started.
Mr. Ginsberg, age 83, went to the doctor for a complete examination head to toe. About halfway through, the doctor was called to the telephone. He said, “Mr. Ginsberg, this will not take more than a few minutes. Here’s a jar. While I am gone, go to the bathroom and place a semen sample in it for examination. Then we’ll continue. “A few minutes later, the doctor indeed returned, and there stood Mr. Ginsberg with the jar- totally empty. “Doctor,” said Mr. Ginsberg. “I did my best. I tried with my right hand, and I tried with my left hand. I even tried with both hands, but nothing happened. The doctor said soothingly, “Now, Mr. Ginsberg, don’t feel embarrassed. At the age of 83, it is quite common to be impotent.” Whereupon Ginsberg said, with towering indignation, “What do you mean, impotent? I couldn’t open the jar.”
Old Mr. Anderson and his equally aged wife were filing for divorce. The judge, eyeing them with astonishment, said, “How old are you, Mr. Anderson?” “Ninety-three”, Your Honor. “And your wife?” “Ninety-one”, Your Honor.” “And how long have you been married?” “Sixty-six years.” “Then why do you want to get a divorce now?” “Well, you know how it is, Your Honor.” We were waiting for the children to die.”
He has an interesting sense of humor and I freaking love it. Here’s a small add-on which is one of his favorite limericks.
I think it’s likely that some of you may have gotten the wrong idea with the title I used for this post. Twisted in this context does not mean heavily sexual or bawdy. These limericks are written specifically for children, and they are a cross between limericks & tongue twisters. As a kid I loved tongue twisters and at a very early age whilst sitting through a number of sessions to correct a minor lisp I had, tongue twisters were one of the exercises that we were permitted to do to help us get control of our speech patterns. I know it sounds stupid, but it was even more stupid when you’re the one who was required to do it. Enjoy!
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She saw a seesaw at sea,
A shawl she was wearing, was she,
The sea shrank her shawl,
Till it shrank her shawl small,
To the seesaw she saw she said “Gee!”
😁😁😁
Louise is pleased by cheesy chicken squeezed with cheesy cheese,
Squeezy peasy chicken cheesy served to please Louise,
“To other chicken, phooey!
Even Chinese chicken suey,
More squeezy greasy peasy cheesy chicken, if you please!”
😋😋😋
Hannah from Havana grew bananas in Savanna,
A bonanza of bananas that had grown in her bandanna,
These limericks were published in New York in 1965. They made their way into my hands via the Northside School Library in Rogers, Arkansas. The last date the book was signed out was on April Fool’s Day in 1967. From reading them I would guess many of them were written in Great Britain, but I’ll note the authors when I can. Enjoy!
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There was a young man of Calcutta
Who spoke with a terrible stutta,
At breakfast he said,
“Get me some b-b-b-bread
And b-b-b-b-b-b-butta.”
😯😯😯
By Robert Louis Stevenson
There once was an old man of the Cape,
Who made himself garments of crepe.
When asked, “Do they tear?”
He replied, “Here and there,
But they’re perfectly splendid for shape!”
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A small boy when asked to spell “yacht,”
Most saucily said, “I will nacht.”
So, his teacher in wrath,
Took a section of lathe,
And warmed him up well on the spacht.
😬😬😬
There was a young bard of Japan
Whose limericks never would scan.
When they said it was so,
He replied “Yes I know,
But I make a rule of always trying to get just as many words into the last line as I possibly can.”
“The great poet is always a seer, seeing less with the eyes of the body
than he does with the eyes of the mind.”
Oscar Wilde (1854-1900)
I’ve been consistently nagged in recent months to post some of my own poetry. It’s not something I do or will do until the poetry gods speak to me. In recent months they’ve been oddly quiet. As with anyone writing poetry a person has to be moved by emotions. Love and hatred are two huge motivators that are fueled by a host of other lesser emotions like a few weeks or months of depression or celebration. Once I’m moved to write poetry it’s to either express a low and morbid mood or I’m flying high with love or joy over something important only to me. Let’s let some experts in on this conversation.
“Poetry should surprise by a fine excess, and not by Singularity – it should strike the Reader as a wording of his own highest thoughts and appear almost a Remembrance.” John Keats (1795-1821)
“Poetry begins . . . when we look from the center outward.” Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882)
“A poem begins in delight and ends in wisdom.” Robert Frost (1874-1963)
“The world is never the same once a good poem has been added to it.” Dylan Thomas (1914-1953)
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And here is the quote that makes and explains my initial point from the first paragraph.
‘All good poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotions recollected in tranquility.”
It’s been quite a while since I posted a Limerick Alert due in part to my semi-invalid status these last few months. Now that I’ve been cleared by the doctors once again I can freely move around my residence without the need of a wheelchair, walker, or a cane. I feel like a new man even though I will have to learn how to walk properly all over again. These limericks are always humorous as they were written by children for children and they’re all extremely well done. These are rated G and are safe for children.
As you should know by now, I enjoy things odd, strange, but still interesting. I’ll tell you a short tale of my first trip outside of my home in some weeks. Since fracturing my ankle I’ve been hobbling around in the house wearing a ten-pound plastic boot and using a walker to move around. I should also mention that I drive a Smart car. It’s very difficult to fit me and my big ugly plastic boot behind the wheel of that little car. Therefor it was necessary that I become a passenger while my better-half took the wheel for a short shopping trip. I was stuck in the car because it was impossible for me to walk around a Walmart, and I absolutely refuse to use one of those electric monstrosities available for the injured and obese. Even when I was in the best of health, I never liked shopping there. Here’s my Brisk tale of my Walmart parking lot safari.
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My tale begins as I sat in my car watching a wild and crazy assortment of people wandering through the parking lot. The wind was howling, and I caught sight of a yellow empty can four aisles over rolling on the ground. As I watched, the wind blew it into traffic in that aisle and the stupid can avoided at least four vehicles and then continued rolling towards my aisle. My interest waned a bit and I began reading my Kindle. Out of the corner of my eye I saw that damn yellow can blow out from under another parked car and into the aisle three rows away. It was again missed by all of the traffic in that aisle and stopped dead in an open area.
I started fantasying that the can knew where it was going, and the wind was helping it get there. The wind kicked up once more and the can took a weird track thorough the next aisle and stopped right next to a car. An Asian fellow who had just parked his car, saw the can and gave it a kick as he walked by. The can ignored the abuse and with another gust of wind continued its journey into the next aisle. Now I was getting more interested on what the final fate of the can might be. In the next aisle a car sped by and the passing wind from the car blew the can across that aisle landing it fifteen feet from my car and ending up in a shopping cart corral. It appeared stuck there, so I returned to my reading.
Ten minutes later this giant Walmart employee with his cute little vest appeared next to my car to empty the corral. He looked pissed off and began pulling carts from here and there and fortunately for the can, he dislodged it. He stormed off mumbling to himself (probably how much he hated Walmart) and left the area. The wind gusted again and believe it or not that can rolled right over to my car and stopped next to the passenger side door where I was sitting. I’m not a believer in fate but I just knew I had to give that can some assistance before it was destroyed. I opened the door and put the empty can in my pocket and took it home with me. It’s now sitting on a shelf in my garage taking a well-earned vacation from all of the human dangers it had faced and survived. During our next shopping foray, I’ll return it to the wild to continue its journey. Maybe I’ll do it a real favor and drop it off at Home Goods, it’s a much better neighborhood and a cleaner parking lot.
I love Rock and Roll. I mean the old-style Rock & Roll of the 50’s, 60′ and 70’s. The current music trends leave me flat due primarily to the unavoidable bad influences of Rap which is highly overrated and just plain sucks. Only Rhythm and Blues still seem as smooth and sexy as always. Today I’m going to throw out some trivia from the golden age of Rock & Roll for those of you still interested in good music. This trivia is a little obscure but nonetheless interesting.
Link Wray’s hit instrumental “Rumble” from 1958 sounded so menacing that it prompted a ban by several US radio stations.
In 1986, Duane Eddy teamed up with The Art of Noise, an electro-pop act, for a revival of his old “Peter Gunn” hit.
A bobbysoxer teen idol, Ricky Nelson returned in 1972 with a singer-song writer style hit, “Garden Party”.
Chantilly Lace almost scrapped a top 30 placing in 1972 for legendary rock and roller Jerry Lee Lewis.
The Drifters returned to the British charts in 1972 with a revival of their mid-60’s single “Come on Over to My Place”.
The Bee Gee’s
TheFather of Rock & Roll, Bill Haley, died in 1981.
MC5 and Roy Wood attracted boos and worse at the London Rock ‘n’ Roll Show held at Wembley Stadium in 1972. The crowd was upset that they all had long hair.
The Beach Boys released a song by cult hippy leader Charles Manson on the B-side of their1968 single, “Blue Birds Over the Mountain”. Originally called “Cease to Exist“, the band gave it an even stranger title of “Never Learn Not to Love”.
The US hard-rock band Aerosmithmade an unlikely appearance in The Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band film performing the Beatle’s “Come Together“.
The Bee Gee’s first number one single hit in the US, “How Can You Mend a Broken Heart”, went nowhere in Britain, which is all the more surprising because it’s since become a standard.
Born: December 10, 1830, Died: May 15, 1886 (aged 55)
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I’m something of a fan of serious poetry and an even bigger fan of those bawdy limericks I post so often. I guess I’m simply a fan of creative people who aren’t afraid to bare their souls to us. I’ve noticed over the years that creative types are a breed all their own. Many are looked upon as being a little strange or weird which has always seemed unfair. Being strange or weird for me is a badge of honor. Let me share the following with you.
Emily Dickinson, whose poetry thrills millions today, fantasized about the earth and sky and heaven itself, but left her home state, Massachusetts, exactly once, and that was to visit her father in Washington DC. She became such a recluse that she would not stay in the same room with her guests but would speak to them from an adjoining room.
Only seven of her poems were published in her lifetime. After her death in 1886, over 1,000 poems were discovered in a bureau. They were subsequently published, but often after word and punctuation changes were made by overzealous editors. A definitive edition of her works did not appear until the 1950’s.
As with all artists and other creative types, you never seem to get the recognition and fame you deserve until you’re dead.
I realize that many of you out there are avid music fans. I’m addicted to oldies from 1958 through 1974 and have thousands of songs from that era. I like a lot of the new stuff too but I’m able to pick and choose the ones that really get me going. While we are all music lovers, my second passion is limericks and interesting poetry. So, with that in mind I decided that today my limerick selections would be G rated and concern music and musicians. I hope you enjoy them as much as you enjoy your music.
everyuselessthing.com 