Friday, November 13, 2009

Uncle Jim

Uncle Jim loved ice fishing, and Hamm's beer, in that order.

He had a job and had a wife, and loved her – kinda sorter.

But when the gales of winter blew and ice formed on the lake

He wouldn't hang around the house for French fries nor a steak.

But out the door like bats from hell he'd streak with tackle box,

Putting on his parka but forgetting woolen socks.

On White Bear Lake he had his shack, a piscine sanctuary,

Where he could sit and guzzle Hamm's – he had no use for dairy.

A heater full of kerosene gave off a lethal haze,

But since he smoked a pack a day it didn't even faze.

He set his jig stick with great care, a meal worm on the hook,

Then commanded silence, for no talking would he brook.

Others might go socialize upon the icy brink;

But he was there to fish and also have a little drink.

The Hamm's flowed in at rapid pace, and here's the mystery,

No matter how much he would drink he never had to pee!

No yellow ice around his shack, just Winston butts galore;

He figured in the summer they would beautify the shore.

On Sundays when his wife and kids would always go to church

Old Uncle Jim was worshipping the crappie and the perch.

And when his wife and kids came home and thought him such a sinner,

He'd waltz in with a mess of fish and cook a big shore dinner.

I don't know how he kept his job; he was an absentee

From December 'til was time to pay his docking fee.

Perhaps his boss liked fishing, too, and wasn't so averse

to Hamm's and other beverages that men do tend to nurse.

He had a home and garden and his kids turned out all right

And though his wife looked daggers they would rarely ever fight.

Maybe it's because, come spring, when ice fishing was done

He'd stay at home, a-puttering, and chores would gladly run.

Not for him the glassy lake with boat and casting reel –

Without the snow and frostbite it did not have much appeal.

Now that he has gone to his reward, I fear that Hamm's

Will never have a customer who drinks it in such drams.

Those old Norwegians never saw their lifestyles as an error;

And wives who would put up with them are certainly much rarer!



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