I 100% blame my wife for this, as she was the one who sent the photo that inspired this post.
So, our not-quite two-year-old son, Jerry, got a toy car ferry for Christmas, and immediately put it to use.
Cue the following photo from my wife, captioned “Jerry’s doing his best to recreate the Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald”:
Anyhoo, coming from a proud mariner’s family, it fired up the old muse, and forced me to channel my inner Gordon Lightfoot. Enjoy!
“The Wreck Of This Ferry Of Gerald’s”
“The legend lives on,
From the Rubber Ducks on down,
Of the bathtub they call “Wash-Your-Goochie”
The Fiberglass, they said,
Never gives up her dead
When the Suds of November come early!
With a load of plastic ore, twenty-six micrograms more,
than this Ferry of Gerald’s weighs empty
That good ship and crew, was a bone to be chewed,
When the Suds in the bathtub splashed early!
The ship was the pride of the Fisher-Price side,
Coming back from the shallows of Back End
As a toy ferry goes, it was bigger than most,
With a crew and a captain well-seasoned!
Concluding some deals for a couple Hot Wheels,
When it left fully loaded for Deep End,
And later that night, when Gerald’s mother sighed,
Could it be her child’s wrath she were feelin’?
The curtain rail rattled in a tattle-tale sound,
And a wave broke over the railing
And every man knew, as the captain did too,
T’was the Suds of November come stealin’!
The dawn came late, and the breakfast had to wait,
When the toddler’s hands came a-splashin’,
When afternoon came, it was lukewarm rain,
In the face of the bathroom fan’s vent wind!
When suppertime came, the old cook came on deck,
Sayin’, “Fellas, it’s too rough to feed ya,”
At seven PM, the whole deck flooded in,
He said, “Fellas, it’s been good to know ya!”
The captain wired in, he had water coming in,
And the good ship and crew were in peril,
And later that night, when his lights went out of sight,
Came the Wreck of this Ferry of Gerald’s!
Does anyone know where the love of God goes,
When the splashing turns minutes to hours
The searchers all say, they’d’ve made Soap Basin Bay,
if they’d put ten inches more behind her!
She might’ve been dunked, or maybe capsized,
Even cracked on the rim and took water
And all that remains, is the imaginary names
Of the sons and the wives and the daughters!
The Bathroom Sink Runs, the Kitchen Sink pools,
‘Round the unwashed utensils like flotsam
The Toilet Bowl steams with yesterday’s lunch dreams
Its turds and paper are for flushin’!
And farther below, the Dog’s Water Bowl
Takes in what the faucets can feed her
And the toy boats all go, as the mariners all know,
With the Suds of November remembered!
In a musty toy box, in the bathroom they prayed,
In the Maritime Toy Bin Cathedral
The church bell chimed, ’til it rang 29 times,
For each man on that ferry of Gerald’s!
The legend lives on, from the Rubber Ducks on down,
Of the bathtub they call “Wash-Your-Goochie”,
The Fiberglass they said, never gives up her dead,
When the Suds of November come early!”
….Yeah, you’re welcome. Merry Christmas!
(*All respect to Gordon Lightfoot, and the 29 crew lost aboard the real-life SS Edmund Fitzgerald.)
Old Hat Nation 