Monday, April 18, 2011

From the archives (April 18, 2009): Listen, my children, and you shall hear...

...Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere
On the eighteenth of April in Seventy-Five,
Hardly a man is now alive
Who remembers that famous day and year...

One if by land, and two if by sea,
And I on the opposite shore will be,
Ready to ride and spread the alarm
Through every Middlesex village and farm...

You can read the entire poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow here.


Seventy-Five, of course, refers to neither 1975 nor 1875, but 1775. This statue of Paul Revere stands in Boston, Massachusetts. If you look closely, you can see in the background the spire of the Old North Church, which played a prominent role in the famous midnight ride of April 18-19, 1775.

[end of 2009 post]

When I was still employed, I always greeted people in my little corner of corporate America with “Happy Paul Revere’s Ride Day” (April 18) or “Happy St. Swithin’s Day” (July 15) or “Happy Texas Independence Day” (March 2) or “Happy Bastille Day” (July 14) or whatever was appropriate for the day. It drove everyone absolutely bonkers.

Mission accomplished.

7 comments:

Putz said...

happy unbirthday to you happy unbirthday to you, i know it is so don,t lie to me and do not break your leg

rhymeswithplague said...

Putz, I didn't know what sort of comment this post might inspire, but yours is totally unexpected!

Reamus said...

RWP:

Where have you been, Reamus misses your editorial flair...on the road in Arkansas headed for the Smoky Mtns...tornadoes in sight.

P.S. You would only have done that once to me!

rhymeswithplague said...

Reamus, thanks for the nudge; I didn't realize you had embarked. I will hie me on over to your place with my red pencil at the ready. As you probably already know, travel can be so broadening.

rhymeswithplague said...

P.S. to Reamus, I have thoroughly reviewed your statement, "You would only have done that once to me!" and have been pondering its meaning. Do you mean (a) after encountering me one time, you would have run away whenever you saw me approaching, (b) you would have punched me in the mouth to make your point that you didn't care for happy people ruining your grumpy morning, or possibly (c) it doesn't take much to drive you bonkers?

Stafford Ray said...

Are there any days that are not significant except for the fact that they aren't? I mean, was there ever a day when you just said 'Good day' and people were fooled into thinking you were normal?

rhymeswithplague said...

Stafford Ray, welcome from Down Under (Mooloolaba, Queensland, Australia!) to the glorious light of this blog or the light of this glorious blog or however you care to put it. If I may say so, there does seem to be a disconnect in your comment: I never said or even intimated that I am not normal. If anyone was not normal, it was the people I drove bonkers with my pleasant daily greetings.

Of course, Mama always said, "Everyone's crazy except me and thee, and even thee is a little bit crazy." So I guess if the shoe fits, I am forced to wear it. Or go barefoot. Which isn't a bad thing. Unless I've been asked to clean out the stables. Fortunately, Hercules is a friend of mine.

Again, welcome, and thanks for your comment.