My last post ended with an open question: Who is Ogden Nash? His name came up in one of the lines in the poem that was featured in that post : “…Rugged individualists trying to mimic Ogden Nash, the only difference being: he traded words for cash…”.
The Department of Rugged Individualists, consisting primarily of me and Spencer (a stuffed plush seal) hates leaving alert readers dangling, so as threatened, I’ll give you the scoop on Ogden Nash. But first, another poem:
A great way to learn MORE about Ogden nash would be to keep reading
If he weren’t stuffed with foam,
Spencer would be denser.
I was hanging out with my soon-to-be four year old granddaughter recently and at a couple of points during the visit, when she was confronted by something novel or funny , she earnestly exclaimed, “What da heck?” I snorted back a guffaw the first time I heard her say it, trying to guess which immediate/extended family member she could have picked it up from. A parent? A grandparent? An aunt or uncle? And could this person possibly have a propensity for the French language?
Fast forward a few days to where I caught myself saying “What da heck?” when I ran across stuff that was novel, puzzling or just plain goofy. This is the great thing about little kids: they remind you that the world can be a pretty fascinating and amusing place if you just start paying attention and look at the world through their eyes.
PAY attention and keep reading