Day 139: London Derrière

Laetitia and her group visited Cascade Sikiyou National Monument and then stopped for lunch at an Irish pub called Clancy’s in Merrill, Oregon before crossing the border into California. The Guinness was flowing and there was a rowdy lunch crowd in the place. Especially exuberant was a young woman named Meg who was the life of the party and would later become the source of the day’s limerick.

Laetitia sat at the bar during lunch and was engaged in conversation by the young man on the next stool, whose line was that he was a novelist who was soon to have first big break, and he was looking for an amiable young woman to share his fortune with. Laetitia politely told him that she was otherwise occupied leading a tour, but undeterred, he thrust a rumpled piece of paper into her hand that contained, as it turned out, all there was to his novel. It read:

She said she was French and lived in London. But there was something about her that didn’t add up—the blue-eyed, red-haired, freckle-faced colleen who Kerry-danced into the Shamrock as I sat at the bar drinking Guinness and listening to that famous Irish tenor, Placid O’Domingo, singing Fields of Athenry. I couldn’t figure out what it was until he began singing Danny Boy, and suddenly it hit me in the face like of bowl of Bushmill porridge that I was fated to share a destiny with her—this lady with the London derrière.

That evening, Laetitia presented the limerick of the day to the group.

Attired in her finest apparel
And astride of a lager beer barrel
Meg lifted her skirt
When she wanted to flirt
With the pub crowd at Clancy’s in Merrill.

Day 115: Maui Wowee

Laetitia took her group to Maui. First they did a whale watching tour in the shallow sea protected by Maui, Molokai, Lanai, and Kahoolawe, where the humpback whales come to give birth to their young, traveling thousands of miles from their feeding grounds in Alaskan waters.

That evening the group went to a Luau. A fellow from Gilroy, California, named Gilbert (Gil to his friends) joined the tour. He hadn’t been to either a luau or any of the Hawaiian Islands before, but he had been to the annual Garlic Festival that his hometown puts on every year. He told Laetitia that he liked to put garlic sauce on everything, which perhaps explained why he didn’t seem to be popular with other members of the tour. His complaint about the relatively bland food at the luau provided one limerick of the day. A local amateur bird watcher who had joined the tour to view tropical birds, especially boobies (genus Sula), provided another.

At a luau, when Gil from Gilroy
Took large helpings of roast pig and poi
He found it lacked zest
And thought ‘twould be best
When smothered with garlic and soy.

A birder who’s from Hala’ula
Could only think of genus Sula
When he saw boobies brown
As the girls danced around
At a Luau, while doing the hula.