Saturday, June 18, 2005

Mom's Mnemonics

verses for Mom's nine decades

When Coolidge was the president
A flapper would wear a gin flask in her stocking.
As Cole Porter said, anything went!
A long cool glimpse of lingerie wasn't shocking.
Jazz Age babies kicked up their heels.
The music screeched like freight train wheels.

Bread lines twisted 'round the corners.
Those out of work lived, often, out of doors.
They rode the rails. They begged at our back doors.
Investors leapt off forty-fourth floors.
Hoover, briefly esconced in office,
Told us he was an economist.

Millions joined the army
And marched off to save England, France.
It seemed the world wore kakhi pants.
Ranting Hitler was clearly barmy --
Calm, grinning Roosevelt would jar his preserves!
As well, he'd build up federal bank reserves.

We liked Truman. We really liked Ike.
Every man got a car, his kid a shiny bike,
A new house in the burbs -- then, to complete the dream,
His missus got a washin' machine.
It seemed you could taste the GNP,
A three-tiered frosted cake, prosperity.

Kennedy was killed in an open car.
Was he murdered for his civil rights agenda?
Lyndon said, "I won't run again,"
Run out of town for his anti-commie war.
Dear Jack, we hardly knew ye.
We had our fill, in no time, of LBJ.

Tricky Nixon outsmarted himself
And put his misdeeds on audiotape.
Gerry Ford fell and hurt his head.
Carter's advisor was his daughter:
Daddy! No more nuke-ier power!
The Seventies were a failure of nerve.

A hack for Borax, a spokesman for G.E.,
Ronald Reagan was a hired hand
In a cowboy suit, a shill for CEO's
And their trickle down economy.
Everybody got two jobs.
They worked til they were too tired to see
What trickled down the hill was shit and pee.

The president with his pants around his ankles
In the Oval Office, the memory rankles.
How did he manage to have a balanced budget,
Create a surplus, get Hillary to forget,
And have his way with us, the electorate?
That man Bill just had a way about him.

Remember when George Bush the elder
Was prez -- we feared we'd get Dan Quayle.
Well, now we've got him. His name is Dubya.
His politics are beyond the pale.
He repealed the surplus, unbalanced the budget,
Then re-subdued the already crushed Iraq.

Say a prayer for future presidents.
Their forebears have set some awful precedents.
Keep your agenda simple.
Keep it domestic.
Put a smile on the face of the people.
That would be fantastic.

Hillary Clinton, I say it will be you.

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