A reader in Tooele, Utah, writes, “goodness, gracious, what a pair of glumps you two are, pat from big A and rhymes wit<><><>there has never been or will be greater music, and yes when i was in high school<><><><><><>><><><><<>><><<><><<>><><><><><><><><<>><><<><>”
A reader in Arkansas writes, “I think I have lost my marbles!”
A reader in Groningen (Holland) asks, “Are you okay Mr. RWP?”
Setting aside for a moment the very real question of whether I wish to be addressed as Rhymes, rhymes wit<><><>, Mr. RWP, or a simple “Hey, you!”, I now take pen in hand (figuratively, of course) and respond to your questions because your questions, even when they are not phrased in the form of a question, are important to us.
Oregon reader, no, I personally do not have solid irons in every antique store in Georgia, nor do I know of anyone who does. There must be hundreds of antique stores in Georgia, and that would be one humongous collection of solid irons, to my way of thinking. I would not attempt to guess the number of either antique stores or solid irons in Alabama, South Carolina, or Tennessee. Also, I do not know whether each and every antique store in Georgia would even want to have a solid iron, which is another question entirely. None of the irons, in any case, solid or otherwise, came from me.
Utah reader, according to dictionary.com (my favorite online dictionary), “glump” is not a noun, it is an intransitive verb meaning “to manifest sullenness; to sulk” (albeit colloquially), and I for one -- pat from big A can speak for herself if she wishes to -- can’t make heads or tails of what you’re getting at, if, in fact, you are getting at anything. You mentioned in another comment on the same post that you liked the music of “alll the b’s bach beethoven bocelli brahms,” but you neglected to mention beyoncé, bono, and dieterich buxtehude. The post in question contained a photograph of Elvis Presley performing “Jailhouse Rock” but your contention that “there has never been or will be greater music” is debatable. What about your own Mormon Tabernacle Choir there in Salt Lake City? Did you forget about them? Also, for a minute there at the beginning of your comment, you seemed to be channeling Jerry Lee Lewis. You kind of trailed off at the end, though, and I am not certain what it is, exactly, that you are asking.
Arkansas reader, I rejoice with you, as you seem very happy with the very real possibility that you have lost your marbles. I gleaned this fact from your use of an exclamation point at the end of your sentence. Had you used a question mark -- I think I have lost my marbles? -- I might have thought that some displaced Valley Girls had found their way to your fair region and influenced the local patois.
Which brings me to the final question, “Are you okay Mr. RWP?”
Groningen (Holland) reader, your decision to omit the vocative comma gave me pause. If you had included it (“Are you okay, Mr. RWP?”), I would have answered that sometimes I am and sometimes I am not, but that my not having blogged for a few days just meant I had nothing to say at the moment. My health is good; no problem there. Life is busy and full -- real life, I mean, not this computerized facsimile thereof. But I have taken your question at face value (that is, without the vocative comma), and after pondering a good deal over it, I have decided that I am both an okay Mr. RWP and the okay Mr. RWP. My goal in the time that is left to me, however, is to be the most magnificent Mr. RWP possible.
Speaking of alll the b's, my all-time favorite is this one, especially when she was poking fun at something dear to the heart of every Georgian (part 1) and (part 2).
Hello, I must be going, but I’m so glad we had this time together.
