Woog’s World / My annual holiday poem
Trump! Mueller! Russians! Flynn!
Oh what a state our nation’s in
Malloy! Lamont! Turnpike tolls!
That’s the way our small state rolls
Every moment there’s new news
Now matter which platform we choose
Facebook! Twitter! BuzzFeed! Vox!
“Failing” CNN or Fox!
And of course the New York Times
(Which is perfect for these rhymes)
But right now I don’t care a whit
About the rest, don’t give a spit
Because the paper of my choice
The one that gives this guy a voice
Is local — all about our town
So in this poem I’ll just get down
And offer up the year in verse
Don’t complain — it could be worse!
There could be mold in all our schools
There could be all our kids with Juuls
There could be one more crisis Compo
Than where a guy or gal can go
To seek relief when nature calls
We need to add a few more stalls
But please! Not here! the cries resound
From pickleballers (with a frown)
Don’t ruin our view! Don’t spoil the sand!
Find someplace else! is their demand
It’s too expensive! others cry
It’s way too big! some more folks sigh
But votes were taken; ayes prevailed
The bathroom boat — that ship has sailed
So late this spring (unless they sue)
South Beach gets a brand-new loo.
Let’s leave the shore and head to Main Street
Where generations once did meet
To browse the shops, and stroll and hang
Yet recent years have thinned the gang
Chain stores came, and chain stores went
As landlords raised and raised the rent
Mom-and-pops have up and left
Making downtown quite bereft
What ho! Now signs of life appear
The sounds of bustle we all hear
Some funky businesses are open
Merchants all along are hopin’
That a renaissance is near
Bedford Square gives cause for cheer
And don’t forget across the river
With new, fun arrows in our quiver
Those retail, restaurants and more
Are ready for us to explore
“Downtown” is thus a state of mind
As well as somewhere we can find
Experiences like no other
Except — forewarned! Oh no! Oh brother! —
There looms a growing awful pall
In Norwalk: one gigantic mall
So cross your fingers, say a prayer
That all the shoppers won’t go there.
One other story that was major
Will still continue, I would wager
Through 2019, ’20 too
In fact, as long as I or you
Will live — and even when we’ve died
Our kids and grandkids will be fried
And flooded, hurricaned and droughted
“Climate change will come!” we’ve shouted
For many years, and now it’s here
Worse, alas, than all our fear
The Saugatuck oft overflows
Compo too — and so it goes
Winds bring down a thousand trees
(Not even much — just a light breeze)
We freeze in winter, boil in summer
Worse than ever — what a bummer
The sense of doom we cannot shake
(But at least we missed a big earthquake).
So that is it — ’18, adieu
We’re ready for a year that’s new
What lies ahead we do not know
There is one thing that is true, though
“Woog’s World” will be here, every Friday
Telling tales of Westport, my way
So worry not; never fear
I’ll see you all next week, next year.
Dan Woog is a Westport writer, and his “Woog's World” appears each Friday. He can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org. His personal blog is danwoog06880.com.