Showcase: For Better or Verse
Self-styled and self-published, the ‘Limerick Man’ turns a fine phrase, loves music and supports worthy causes
Meet the “Limerick Man,” who combined his love of music and poetry to self-publish a book of hilarious limericks—the profits of which go to a great cause.
There’s a hymn from my choir days titled, “I Love to Tell the Story.” And I just so happen to have a story I’d love to tell. For Better or Verse was hatched when my close friend Anne Jarvis said, “You’ve got all these limericks; why don’t you create some more and write a book?” So I did. As soon as I was done, we went to see Friesenpress, a self-publishing company here in Victoria. Nine months later, in 2017, the book was published.
Many of the limericks I already had on hand were written back in 1997, and were inspired by the 350-voice choir I sang in. We’d spend a half an hour or so before practice showing off our literary chops and many of my limericks came into being right there, usually as a tribute to my fellow singers, like this one from chapter two:
As was the case for just about everyone my age—i’m now 92—my life was influenced by the Second World War. At age 15, I went to work in a pay office, as the men of age were off to war. When my turn came, I served in the Army Depot Pay Office. After the war, thanks to the Army Rehab provisions, I was sponsored for three year’s worth of high school in six months, followed by a Bachelor of Commerce degree, which took three years. I then immediately proceeded to become an articled student in a chartered accountants’ firm.
“Will you ever forget our wee Pat She was known as a swingin’ hep cat Pat went out each night Till dawn’s early light Then sat with the milkman to chat.”
All this non-stop pressure subsequently brought on a nervous breakdown, but that’s another story.
I married in 1954 and my wife Kate and I moved from Toronto to Victoria, settling onto a waterfront property at Prospect Lake, where I wrote many more limericks, like this one about our dogs:
Getting my book published was a learning experience, as the printing company was hung up on computers, and I was hung up out in dinosaur land. So, I learned about computers, at least what was needed for the book to see the light of day. In the initial stages, I was given more than 100 pictures to choose from for the cover. Snow-covered mountains just could not compete with the dog that won the job. Feedback from sales: “Love the cover!” Yeah, but what about the limericks, I wondered!
In case you want to know more about the “Limerick Man,” as I’ve been referred to, I’m a guy who paid the rent by being an accountant, but my real passion was music. After the war, my first stint education-wise was at the Toronto Conservatory of Music. At the risk of name-dropping, a certain Robert Goulet was also studying there at the time. I lasted one month before it became obvious that putting bread on the table was not likely to happen for me via that route. So I switched to commerce. The chartered accounting firm I was first hired at was actively seeking students and, believe it or not, the first question they asked me was, “Do you play ball?” Back in those days, many firms were so large they could field an entire baseball team from their latest crop of students. As a lefthanded first baseman, I had it made! I still have a photo of our winning team hanging on my wall to this day.
On the music side, I ended up with a Grade 10 certificate as a baritone soloist and a Grade 8 piece of paper for the piano. During my stay at one church, the organist and I produced an LP, with all the proceeds going to the church, of course. I’ve also played the trumpet in dance bands, trios and community organizations and, in later years, the vibes were added to my arsenal. One of my early memories is of a trip to Williams Lake—my first flight ever—and it looked like we had landed in a farmer’s field. Our house band from the Club Sirroco was scheduled to play for Princess Margaret. She didn’t show, and I can’t say that I blame her!
Forty years as a choir leader kept things busy on Sundays. In the big band I frequented, you’d catch me playing the trumpet and singing. We’d practice every two weeks on Thursday nights, and when the band went public, we realized we needed a name! We settled on Thirsty Knights, which seemed like a good choice.
One of the tidbits I’ve learned over the years is that music and poetry are a great fit, so I guess my love of limericks is only natural. I’ll sign off with this one, about some guy named George:
“When Pedro brought Belle to the door We wondered what next was in store. Poor Belle was a wreck, Kate said: ‘What the heck, We’ve plenty of love for one more.’ ” “If limericks bore you to death Recall what the Bible has saith: Don’t do adultery Unless she is sultry Then go to the priest and confessth.” “There once was a fella named George Who thought he could be Victor Borge Though he worked like a dog Really all he could log Was a one-nighter down at The Gorge ( a hotel in Victoria).