Thursday, January 31, 2008

Plumbing Is As Plumbing Does

Plumbing Is As Plumbing Does

I once knew a man who held a great love for the finer things in life. Such was his affection for art and literature that he often obsessed over works of prose and poetry. Not a day went by that he didn’t revisit his tomes of the great poets and revel in the wisdom, beauty and extravagant splendor of the written word.

Fortune smiled upon him in all ways. Born of wealth and excess, he lived in a villa on the outskirts of Thunder Bay, where he could watch the iron freighters and cast them in roles of importance during his daily one-act plays. The Pride of Chesterton became the blasphemous king and the Port Bainbridge sufficed as his indolent and reclusive queen. Together, they filled his hours with the industry and dignity of toil as he watched the longshoremen work their magic while he read them sonnets and quatrains from afar, all entirely relevant and with their behind-the-words meaning never in question.

One day, he decided to change his world. After all, what good was poetry if he kept it locked inside him? So, he decided to replace all his plumbing with the works of the great masters. At great expense, his water softener was transformed into Carl Sandburg and his kitchen sink became Elizabeth Barrett Browning. He now drew his water from The Iliad, complete with its tendency to taste like bitter Greek wine.

He took out all the pipes and replaced them with Gerard Manley Hopkins, while he transformed the water heater into Shakespeare. Needless to say, this greatly displeased all the other fixtures. Lying in a heap at the far end of the basement and out of the loop, they became greatly alarmed. What will become of us?

The man was greatly pleased, at first, content with his transformational powers and satisfied with the enhanced ambience about the house. But then, while trying to draw a glass of Leaves of Grass from the Sonnets From The Portuguese he noticed that the two forms tended to stick in his throat and muddy his palate; when he finally managed to get them down, he immediately experienced gastronomic distress from the powerful libations and ran headlong for the Ralph Waldo Emerson!

While feverishly attempting to pull down his pants and position himself, he suddenly realized that he could never relieve himself on Ode To Beauty!

Our story ends with his ringing the buzzer to his neighbor’s apartment, banging wildly on the door and in full voice demanding entrance, his pants still unbuckled. Unfortunately, his neighbor had recently replaced his plumbing, too. Upon feverishly pulling open the bathroom door, our hero was devoured by the Tiger, tiger, burning bright toilet replacement.

The moral to the story (if not already evident) is simple enough… if you simply must be eccentric, first get to know your neighbors.


Shirley said...

Well, one thing's for one will ever accuse you of not being original!

Bubba said...

"Well, one thing's for one will ever accuse you of not being original!"

But... Ha!

amuirin said...

I laughed. I did. A very cleverly wrought parable.

(and I was relieved he didn't do his business on 'Ode to Beauty')

paisley said...

he should have stuck with plath......

Bubba said...

Well, if he had, he wouldn't have had the bathtub, he'd undoubtedly have had The Bell Jar. (Someone just shoot me...)

Beckster said...

LOL. Seriously. And it's even funnier when you read between the lines.

Dan said...

Bob you never fail to entertain, and in quite a unique manner.

Bubba said...

Beckster and Dan-- Thanks! I love hearing that I'm funny... usually no one says that unless they're looking directly at me. Ha! I'm glad you were entertained... that's the whole point, isn't it?

hfurness said...

Haven't we all been burnt by Blake at some point in our lives? I love your world view. a fan

Shirley said...

Hey, no butts...I mean buts about it! It's your originality that makes your work so entertaining! And, like it or not I have presented you with THE award. Now, come and get it before it melts!

kaylee said...

I woke in in the middle of the night
and thought of this,
and laughed my self back to sleep.
Even in the middle of the night
you are funny.