Wednesday, December 29, 2010

We hope you have a lot of fun in Nineteen Hundred Eighty-One

T’was the day after Christmas
And all through the pad
Not a knothead was sober
Not even Grand-dad

We all were hung over
T’was really quite clear
From too much of the liquid
They call Christmas cheer

There were paper and boxes
And packing galore
And ribbon and scotch tap
All over the floor

It sure was a big evening
A humdinger I guess
But now it’s over
This place is a mess

Grand-dad started singing
Home on the Range
Then Dorrene looked up
And said, “Grand-dad you’re strange”

Now the old year is ended
So we’ll lay off the mix
And try to teach these
Old dogs some new tricks

Here’s a new resolution
To keep our heads clear
We’ll lay off that vodka
And stick with root beer

D.B.C.


Tuesday, December 21, 2010

D.B. at the Console of the Lowery Genie - His next appearance will be at Carnegie Hall

I gave Lyola a Lowery Organ
On her birthday, July five
So then I thought I’d try it out
On songs of girls that were alive

I first warmed up on Memories
Then I murdered “Mary Lou”
Next I messed up poor “Margie”
And then it was Sioux City “Sue”

I sure did tear up Ramblin’ “Rose”
And pounded “Lucille” down
Then wandered up the hill with “Maggie”
And “Alice” in her sweet Blue Gown

Next on tap it was “Louise”
Then I hammered “Baby Face”
And next she looked like “Helen” Brown
I finished with Amazing “Grace”

I finally gave up with the playing
And not a bit too soon
T’will take Lyola quite a while
To get the organ back in tune

D.B.C.

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

Four ways for men to tell when they're growing old

First on the list is number one
You meet some real neat Dames
But you can’t think just who they are
You start forgetting names

The second one is really bad
These folks in different places
You’re not sure that you know them, ‘cause
You start forgetting faces.

The third is sure embarrassing
You feel just like a pup
When someone comes to you and says
You forgot to zipper up

But worst of all is number four
It surely makes you frown
It’s when you realize that you
Forgot to zipper down

D.B.C.

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Another Brain Storm from D.B.'s Funny Farm

Things are in a terrible state
And getting worse I guess
The whole world seems to be upset
It’s surely in a mess

The nations all accuse their neighbors
Of one thing or another
They can’t agree on any thing
They’re all mad at each other

If they do things to please someone
The others think that’s bad
Then if they try to please the others
The first ones all get mad

There isn’t much that I can do
Just hope their hate will pass
So I’ll just take it easy
And sit here on my Ass

D.B.C.

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

T'was A Glorious Thanksgiving Dinner, I think.


How very well do I remember
That afternoon in late November
When I went out to someone’s farm
To buy a turkey, I meant no harm

I walked up to their house to see
If they would sell just one to me
But as I opened up the gate
I thought that I had met my fate

A turkey gobbler came around
And almost knocked me to the ground
He chased me all around the yard
To stay ahead of him was hard

The farmer showed up then, by heck
And grabbed that gobbler by the neck
He won’t chase me no more that way
We ate him on Thanksgiving Day

D.B.C.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Another Brain Storm from Cody Wyo.



This Cold and snow’s got me uptight
I think I’ll go down to Quartzsite
If you are tired of cold and snow
Let’s get together and all go

At the Country Club, if Cliff will pay
We’ll play golf with him every day
Then we’ll eat at their cozy nook
‘Cause Erma is a Super cook

If they get tired of us you know
Let them come back to the cold and snow
Then we won’t come home very soon
We may stay there till May or June

I have an overwhelming hunch
They like to have the whole darn bunch
So we don’t want to make them sad
Let’s all go down and make them glad

We’ll fly - we sure won’t drive that far
I’m sure they’d let us use their car
The weather here is sure a fright
So let’s all go down to Quartzsite

D.B.C.

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

The Old Boy's in Another Mess

I’ve lived alone for quite a while
And it’s a lonesome life
I ran an advertisement
To try to get a wife

I said that I am handsome
And very wealthy too
I thought that sure would get them
And I’d hear from quite a few

I know that was a nasty lie
And I know it is a sin
But in a week or two or three
The mail came pouring in

I got a lot of letters
Thought I was doing fine
But they all say the same, it is
I’ll gladly give you mine

One letter said “please hurry”
That he could hardly wait
He said he’d gladly ship her
And even pay the freight

Another said he’d make a deal
If I would take her now
He would deliver her, and even
Throw in a darn good cow

Then one old guy from Utah
Who said his name is Mick
Says he has got a dozen
And I can have my pick

I sure have got me in a mess
I’ve got to get out of this jam
I see I’ll be much better off
If I will stay just like I am

D.B.C.

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

His head is only half full of knowledge

I was born in Nineteen-four
I’ve been alive since then
We all thought I’d get smart someday
But we weren’t sure just when

I grew up close to Keeline
One a real dry farm
Pulled a lot of childish tricks
But really meant no harm

I finally made it through grade school
Was not too good, but not too bad
When I finally graduated
It sure did make the teachers glad

Since I have now become much older
I can now begin to see
There’s lots of things that I don’t know
I’m not as smart as I should be

I thought that I was quite a wit
Thought I was really bright
But I found out a week ago
That I was just half right

D.B.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

October 31, 1983 - Hallowe'en memories of the good old days


A few of us young whipper-snappers
One year on Hallowe’en
Said let’s go do some dirty tricks
Just be sure we aren’t seen

We roamed around the country side
And found this old guy’s shack
We saw what we were looking for
‘Twas a little house in the back

We thought it would be lots of fun
To turn it on its side
We knew that we could do it
If all of us goons tried

We didn’t know he was inside
Doing what he later said
Was finishing up his evening chores
Before he went to bed

Then when we push it over
He gave an awful yell
We all took off across the field
We sure did run like h--l

When he finally crawled outside
He said “well bless my soul”
Then staggered all around the place
And fell into the hole

He got out, then went to the house
As fast as he could run
And on his way we heard him say
“I’m going to get my gun”

We kept on running and finally hid
Behind a big hay stack
I’ll never forget when we upset
That little house in the back

D.B.

Friday, October 22, 2010

There's only one right end

This City boy from a place called Nome
Came out to the old farmer’s home

This Dude was really awfully green
Most things out there he’d never seen

He said “some milk would sure taste good”
The farmer said “I’m sure it would”

The farmer said “Boy you’re no fool
So take this pail and this milk stool

The herd is coming in right now
So get some milk fresh from the cow”

The boy walked up to the old cow’s head
“I’ve come to get some milk” he said

He patted the old cow on the head
And then the old cow smiled and said

“If you would like some milk my friend
You’ll have to go to the udder end”

D.B.

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

October 12th 1492 - Helping Columbus Discover America


October tenth, Columbus Day?
That isn’t the right date
I don’t supposes Old Columbus care
What day we celebrate

I hope he’s resting easy and
It’s good that he can’t see
The mess we have made of the
Home of the Brave and Free

They say there’s forty wars right now
And the sad thing about this is
We just can’t keep our noses out
Of other peoples business

If Columbus and Queen Isabella
Heard all the things we’ve said
I’m sure that they would both be
Happy that they’re dead

D.B.

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Normal At Last

I’m finally back to normal
There’s sure a big change though
The treatment that I had to take
Sure made my whiskers grow

It sure is nice to go down town
Since the girls no longer hate me
And those old bums there on the street
No longer try to date me

They way the winter will be long
With lots of cold and snow
I may not shave again till spring
I’ll let my whiskers grow

I’ll quit dying them I guess
So they’ll turn gray because
I’ll then get me a real good job
Playing Santa Claus

D.B.

Monday, September 27, 2010

Half Way Back to Normal

I took a bunch of hormone shots
To help my bones, by golly
They surely messed up my physique
I looked a lot like Dolly

I’ve started taking treatments
I thought I should because
I wanted to reduce my form
And get back like I wuz

They cost more than I thought they would
And I ran out of money
So far I’m only half way there
And gosh do I look funny

I’ll have to write to Medicare
And plead with them I guess
To pay a few more bills to help
Me get out of this mess

If I get back to normal
And I surely hope I can
Then I won’t look so funny
I’ll look more like a man

There’s one thing that I know for sure
I’ve learned by lesson good
I’ll stay away from hormone shots
So I’ll look like I should

D.B.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

The Development is getting more Revoltin'

Those hormone shots to help my bones
Worked wrong as you can see
They sure messed up by boyish form
I look like Dolly P.

I’m out of shape, I’m sure a mess
I’m taking them no more
I’ve got so big my shirts don’t fit
I don’t look like I did before

I hardly go out any more
I think the neighbors hate me
But some of those of bums down town
Would really like to date me

It’s cost about a thousand bucks
And that’s not all because
It’ll cost another thousand
To get back like I was.

D.B.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

This sure is a Revoltin' Development

I have some softening of my bones
So treatments I am taking
I’m getting some male hormone shots
To try to stop their aching

I’m getting one every three weeks
For six months I’m to get ‘em
They want to give them all to me
But I’m not sure I’ll let ‘em

I’ve only taken them three months
That isn’t very long
I have a little tiny hunch
That something must be wrong

I think they’ve made a big mistake
With the wrong shots, by golly
If I take them for three more months
I may look just like Dolly

D.B.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

September the 7th 1981 was such an Exasperatin' day


I realized right after dawn
This was the day to mow my lawn
And as it was no longer dark
I was happy as a lark

I started my mower up in high
And really made the old grass fly
Then I stopped to empty the sack
And things went wrong when I got back

I pulled the rope, alas, alack
I them wound up flat on my back
No wonder it didn't want to start
The starting assembly had few apart

I says go get your gun and shoot
A few holes in the dad burn brute
Then I says cut out that talk
If you do that you'll have to walk

So I says to me, cut out that jive
And push it around on the front drive
So I then knelt down to get a start
And decided to finish taking it apart

There was lots of bolts and nuts and keys
It sure was hard on my old knees
I found the trouble, fixed it and then
I finally got it together again

I got everything put back in line
I started it up and it ran just fine
I'm all set now to let the grass grow
If it does that next time I mow

I have a scheme that can't be beat
I'll cover the lawn with green concrete
Then I'll be happy with nary a care
And just relax in my easy chair

I'll type this up for you lads and lasses
If I can only find my glasses

D.B.


Monday, September 6, 2010

A Bit Of An Explanation

My grandfather, D.B. Cox, was the very best kind of Grandad...the kind that would get down on the floor and play with you; let you braid his ridiculously long comb-over and put barrettes in it; put a swing up in his basement so you could swing even when it was cold and snowy outside; build you a perfect small-person-scale kitchen cupboard, fill it with with awesome play dishes - including little pots and pans - and then have dinner with you in your little kitchen on your little dishes, even when the dinner was made of water and pork rinds.

He was also a very accomplished amateur photographer, cataloging the lives of his granddaughters (my sister and I) on a very regular basis, recording all his and Grammy's (the incomparable Marie Amend Cox) retirement trips (and there were plenty!), and photographing the beauty of the Cody (Wyoming) country he lived in and loved.

After Grammy died in 1976, Grandad had a few years of sadness, understandably. But as he came out of that sadness, he found his joy and his humor again. And he started writing poems and taking photos to illustrate them. All his poems were typed on an old manual typewriter (thus my choice of Courier font), and all his photos were taken with an old Polaroid.

My mother recently gave me all the poems he'd created. They are funny, poignant, joyous tidbits...a lot of them about family and a lot more about the perils of aging. They all make me smile and laugh, and I hope they will do the same for you.

And so begins this blog, a record of my grandfather's humorous poems...A Revoltin' Development
.