Well-versed

It’s impossible to say what was going through Edward Lear’s mind the first time he sat down to write a limerick.

Maybe it was the fact that he had 19 older brothers and sisters. Maybe it was the fact that, at any moment, he might be hit by an epileptic seizure. Or suffer a bout of severe bronchitis.

Maybe it was because, over the course of his life, his vision degenerated to a state of near-blindness.

It could be just that Lear wanted desperately to create some much-needed fun in his life.

Whatever his motivations, though, Lear ended up popularizing the limerick to a degree that no one else had. Not only did he manage to write his 1846 “A Book of Nonsense,” which was full of the five-line style of rhymed verse, but he also penned a number of later works, including “The Owl and the Pussycat.”

If you had to sum up Lear’s life in rhyme, it might go something like this:

“Poor Edward, the writer, he never felt well.

He’d bumble and stumble and often he fell.

But writing fun verse

Filled up his change purse.

Working with words was what he did swell.”

We’ve been celebrating the art of the limerick on an annual basis since 1998. And over the years, we’ve had some truly good entries. This year has been no different, despite the fact that the number of entries was down (75 participants offering up 308 total entries).

Still, we did attract the work of authors from Spokane, Spokane Valley, Greenacres, Liberty Lake, Veradale, Deer Park, Airway Heights, Newman Lake, Reardan and University Place, Wash. (near Tacoma) and Sagle, Idaho. And, unlike last year, even a couple of schools – Mead and Freeman – participated.

Maybe the contest has run its course. Everything does, sooner or later.

If so, though, let’s at least go out by honoring the limerick writers whose work was chosen as the best of the bunch for 2007.

Their job should have been easier than in years past. To make sure that we attract only original work, we’ve always required that the entries abide by some sort of local reference.

This year’s topic, though, might have been a bit … uh, vague? That, at least, was what Spokane resident Sue Hille claimed. Her entry griped about having to write about – take a deep breath – “Spokane – near nature, near perfect: missing the mark – or not! Legends, lunacies and luminaries.”

“My limerick spirit is surging.’

‘Respond to the contest!’ it’s urging.

Thoughts swirl without locus,

Words ‘near’ find no focus.

Too broad! This year’s title needs purging!”

OK, point made. But Mead High School student Kelsie Mauer was able to construct a simple thought out of such a seemingly complex topic:

“Mt. Spokane is a great place to ski.

It’s truly a fun place to be.

As I fly down the slopes,

I pray and I hope,

That nobody runs into me.”

Spokane Valley resident Deborah Chan, 2006’s grand champion, chose to go in a different direction. She combined news (a movie) along with a sense of natural aesthetics:

“A movie about a volcano

Hit Wallace just like a tornado.

The prestige and ash

Brought a mess, stars and cash…

Too bad the fake trees had to go.”

Sagle, Idaho, entrant Karen van Asch took a personal route, writing a limerick that she hoped her husband would take as a hint:

“There was an old nag in the snow

Who lost all her get up and go.

The doc took a look

And told her to book

A night in Spokane at a show.”

“I am the nag,” van Asch emphasized.

Only a few participants wrote about marmots, which is almost a sure pass to the finals pile. Spokane’s Bob Newell penned an ode with a fair bit of élan:

“If you’re mugged in the park by a marmot,

Don’t retaliate – don’t try to harm it;

Just stay cool – ‘c’est la vie.’

Laissez faire – ‘let it be’;

Then the next thing you do is: Disarm it.”

Regular contest contributor Dave Cryan reports that his sending in 10 entries is a sign that “not a lot else is going on here most days; doing limericks qualifies like crosswords as a tool for postponing Alzheimer’s.”

Cryan chose to take a look at Spokane’s past:

“We are blessed with great legends of yore,

Louie D. and the old Crescent store;

But we’ve no grander day

Than first Sunday each May

When we hail spring through Bloomsday once more.”

Tad Wisenor, who won the grand prize in 2005, showed a bit of local pride while addressing the ongoing inability of outsiders to pronounce the name of our fair city:

“Some give our town nicknames that pan:

Spovegas or Spokanistan.

T’ain’t Paris or Rome,

But this place is my home.

For attitude, call it The Can.”

Spokane’s Catherine Trembley also commented on local hard-to-pronounce names:

“The E in our name is our bane,

Even with fame there’s a scant gain.

Though some go gah-gah

Over Gon-zah-ga,

They still call our city Spo-cain.”

Some would say that limericks aren’t true to the form unless they’re bluer than a Smurf’s, uh, cheeks. Lear might have argued that point.

But even keeping in mind that Today is the family section of The Spokesman-Review, some writers who participated this year tried their luck at pushing the limits of propriety.

Here’s what past contributor Christopher Cook had to say about one of our local headline-grabbers, Gypsy leader Jimmy Marks, likening him to a familiar daily talk-show exploiter:

“Jimmy Marks, and his curse, is the bringer

Of all that invokes Jerry Springer.

Though he hasn’t a qualm

About reading our palms,

He seems clueless at reading our finger!”

On the more positive side, Cook remembered one of Spokane’s more eccentric, and in some circles beloved, characters – the late Craig Bickerton (whose friends have a habit of being photographed in exotic locations wearing a “Craig Bickerton is here” T-shirt):

“Down at Mootsy’s, I hoisted a beer,

And remembered his passing last year.

As I looked ‘round the place,

I could still see his face;

How ironic – Craig Bickerton’s here!”

Spokane Realtor Sally O’Brien decried the passing of several time-honored Spokane traditions, victims of budget cuts, apathy and more:

“Tempting our crassness to loom,

We’re turning away from the bloom –

Consigning our maids

And our Lilac Parades

To their parsimonious doom.”

Going even more political, Mike Andrews – among the dozens of entries that he, a regular limerick machine, pumped out for this contest – addressed the recent controversy involving Spokane County Assessor Ralph Baker’s hiring of an unqualified candidate, which drew charges of nepotism:

“Baker’s creating a schism,

By endorsing rank nepotism.

Morale is a mess,

And it’s times to assess,

Would impeachment be fair criticism?”

Defunct Books owner Greg Delzer decided to go environmental:

“The Spokane River emits a foul vapor.

The newspaper admits it’s a caper.

But the irony here,

Environmentalists make clear,

The culprit is Inland Empire Paper.”

Spokane Valley resident Howard Danielson expressed his love of Spokane’s geography, making reference to the city’s promotional tagline, “Spokane: Near Nature. Near Perfect”:

“To ponder in deepest reflection

In times lost in deep introspection

Where our home fires burn

‘Tis a lesson well learned

Near to nature’s indeed near perfection.”

Jan Brandvold, proud member of the environmental-minded group The Lands Council, took that tagline and went a different way:

“With perfection and nature so near,

Some things should be perfectly clear –

Like the water and air,

Which are nowhere near there

In our dear little part of the sphere!”

Oakesdale farmer/poet Dick Warwick was less than kind to the actual tagline itself:

“The catchphrase attached to our city–

That motto, that slogan or ditty –

Is worse than mundane.

It’s frankly inane –

Neither factual, engaging, nor witty.”

Headline-makers attracted a lot of attention by this year’s entrants. One of the several limericks sent in by Spokane resident John N. Luellasson took artistic liberties with the story of the Spokane County detective who was fired for exposing himself last June to a barista (other writers explored the mess that followed when a Civil Service Commission later reinstated the detective):

“An attractive barista named Nell

Intrigued Officer Joseph Mastel.

So he whipped out his Glock,

Much to everyone’s shock,

Said, ‘Draw me a latte, Jezebel.’ “

And, of course, several writers wrote about the troubles involving Gonzaga University basketball player Josh Heytvelt’s arrest on drug charges.

Giving due credit to Spokesman-Review columnist Doug Clark for his last line (which refers to former GU player Adam Morrison’s attempts to grow a mustache), Mike Andrews came up with this artistically enhanced ditty:

“GU’s season has suffered a crash,

Since Heytvelt was busted with hash.

Just one little toke,

And it’s all up in smoke,

As we’ve traded the ‘stache for the stash.”

We can forgive Andrews for – in mid-February – not believing that the Zags would rebound and, without Heytvelt, go on to quality for the NCAA tournament.

As we head to the top three finalists of this year’s contest, we’ll be encountering names and issues for second and even third times.

Up first is Cook, who again explored the issue of GU basketball and drugs:

“The officer spotted the ‘shrooms,’

Bringing heartbreak and omens and dooms.

Then he said with a sniff,

‘My dead boys, with that spliff,

Might you also be driving on fumes?’ “

For his efforts, Cook takes home a $25 gift certificate from Auntie’s Bookstore.

Farmer-poet Warwick just wouldn’t let go of the Spokane tagline:

” ‘Near nature, near perfect’ – how glib –

A rather hyperbolic squib.

At best it’s ingenuous;

As a shibboleth, tenuous –

At worst it’s an out-and-out fib.”

Warwick walks away with a $50 gift certificate to Auntie’s.

And, finally, we return to Mike Andrews and his obsession with a flashing detective and comely baristas:

“In Spokane it’s worthy of mention,

There’s a new barista convention,

Like Deputy Dawg,

Just whip out the hog,

‘Cause link sausage is good for attention.”

Andrews, being this year’s grand-prize winner, earns a $100 gift certificate at Auntie’s.

Thanks to all those who participated. If your work showed up in this story, you are invited to read in public at 7:30 p.m. on Wednesday in the café at Auntie’s, located on the corner of Main Avenueand Washington Street.

And thanks, also, to anyone who read all these well-written works of wit.

If you have any complaints, though, call Edward Lear.

Without him, not only would we never have heard of limericks but uttering the name Nantucket would evoke far fewer guffaws.