Speaker 1: Ron Bug Podcast. It's fun podcast. It's him and now hello,
Speaker 1: my name is Ron Burgundy. And if that's not enough,
Speaker 1: we'll then go fudge yourself. Shoot, I said fudge, but
Speaker 1: I meant to say. This is my podcast and I'm
Speaker 1: sitting here with my best friend in the whole world, Carolina, who,
Speaker 1: by the way, is sporting a bright yellow neckerchief. Let's
Speaker 1: talk about that for a second. I'm not wearing anything
Speaker 1: yellow today. What are you talking about? Boy? You just
Speaker 1: go with it for once? Will you go with what
Speaker 1: you want me to? Lion say, I'm wearing a yellow knuckerchef. Yes,
Speaker 1: I do. I want you to lie and pretend it's
Speaker 1: a podcast, for Heaven's sake. Pretending is fun. Carolina. Didn't
Speaker 1: you even pretend with your dollies when you were a child. No,
Speaker 1: I didn't have dollies. No dollies. Hold dollies. Hold on, okay,
Speaker 1: let me get my head around that. When you were
Speaker 1: a young girl, you didn't have a dolly. I did
Speaker 1: not have a dolly. I don't even know if I
Speaker 1: called them that. No dollies. Very interesting? The puzzle is complete?
Speaker 1: What puzzle? A completed puzzle? What are you talking about? Oh? Nothing.
Speaker 1: Just the puzzle has come into complete view. All the
Speaker 1: pieces are in and there it is. Wow, yep, it
Speaker 1: all makes sense. Now, don't give a girl a dolly
Speaker 1: and well, you guys can see for yourself. Who's on
Speaker 1: the podcast today? No one run wonderful. We don't have
Speaker 1: a guest, simply wonderful. Well, it's been a real lumpy,
Speaker 1: dumpy mass of a year with no one able to
Speaker 1: come down here to the ron Burgundy studios because of COVID.
Speaker 1: But the ron Burgundy Radio Hour must go on a podcast, run,
Speaker 1: run the ron Berg podcast, So we'll just have to
Speaker 1: wing it. You want to wing it today? Unlike yes,
Speaker 1: let's just wing it. Um. In fact, why don't we
Speaker 1: do this? Read me that list I made when we
Speaker 1: started this whole journey, you know, the list of topics
Speaker 1: I wanted to cover this one. Yes, that's the baby.
Speaker 1: Read me some of those. There's literally thousands of subjects.
Speaker 1: I know, I know read a few. Okay, Um, I
Speaker 1: discussed man to Raise. That was one wonderful, a two parter,
Speaker 1: and some controversial opinions on that one. But not today.
Speaker 1: Keep going, okay, um, just stop me if you want
Speaker 1: to choose one? Uh should I get a glass eyeball
Speaker 1: not today, okay. Ron opens up about rock collecting pass
Speaker 1: I tell women how to dress, no my time and
Speaker 1: nexium inappropriate, the care and maintenance of donkeys. I called
Speaker 1: Janet at the airline and give her a piece of
Speaker 1: my mind for being a huge to me. You want
Speaker 1: to do that one? No? No, but but but that's accurate.
Speaker 1: The treasures of the deep. What does that mean? How
Speaker 1: to build and maintain the perfect ham sandwich? Is the sun?
Speaker 1: Jealous of the moon? Minnesota the land of the unknown.
Speaker 1: Not quite yet. We're not ready for that one yet,
Speaker 1: not yet, not yet. I interview a real life paper boy.
Speaker 1: My top five hundred Christmas songs of all time? Your
Speaker 1: top five hundred? My top the one where Ross moves in?
Speaker 1: Is that a friend's episode? All about mer cats? I
Speaker 1: share my knowledge about boners. I don't think so. I
Speaker 1: interview hot new writer Miss Jane Austen No my complete
Speaker 1: guide to luxurious living, Keep going. I interview a doctor
Speaker 1: on the show, but really use it to sneak in
Speaker 1: a free exam without paying. It's a great idea, but
Speaker 1: not today. The truth behind the Burgundy Method. My six
Speaker 1: part conversation with Bill Belichick. We would need coach Belichick
Speaker 1: for that one. I read my poetry. Wait, wait a second,
Speaker 1: stop stop right there, I'm stopping up their easy horse, steady, steady,
Speaker 1: stops easy. Let's see. I read my poetry. I like
Speaker 1: that one. Do you even write poetry? I mean enough
Speaker 1: to fill a whole show? Okay, I get it. Just
Speaker 1: say yes, you've made your point, Carolina. You are a
Speaker 1: fussy old mussy head. Sometimes wonderful Carolina, just wonderful. Of course,
Speaker 1: I write poetry. I have so many poems. They could
Speaker 1: fill ten libraries with my poems, and one day they will. Yes,
Speaker 1: I write poetry. Okay. I mean you could have just
Speaker 1: said yes, well, I just I probably write one or
Speaker 1: two very good poems a day, but sometimes I'll write
Speaker 1: a hundred. Uh wow. Okay, do you have any of
Speaker 1: these poems on you? We're going to do the episode today.
Speaker 1: Wonderful treasure Carolina. Uh No, I keep my poems locked
Speaker 1: in a vault in my storage unit in Arizona. However,
Speaker 1: I do have about a thousand or so roughly that's
Speaker 1: an estimation, in the trunk of my car. Oh okay.
Speaker 1: Should we take a commercial break and then we can
Speaker 1: go get them. Not we buddy, not a chance. I
Speaker 1: will go and get the poetry. That's fine. I'm not
Speaker 1: gonna let you or anyone else take a look at
Speaker 1: the trunk of my car. I've said this maybe a
Speaker 1: million times, right, I mean, if anyone gets near the
Speaker 1: trunk of my car, anyone, man, woman, or child, they
Speaker 1: will get kicked in the face. Okay. And we've gone
Speaker 1: through this before, right Carolina. I mean, you remember what
Speaker 1: happened last time someone broke into my trunk. It was
Speaker 1: what time? Um? I think you said it was hospital time.
Speaker 1: That's right, it was hospital time for those people. Yeah.
Speaker 1: Is the trunk of my car is a sacred space? Okay?
Speaker 1: And it's not because of weird reasons. It sounds weird,
Speaker 1: it's not. The insistence is weird. The insistence of wanting
Speaker 1: to protect the sanctity of my trunk is weird. This, yeah,
Speaker 1: the sacredness, the sanctity, the aggressive the way you talk
Speaker 1: about it. But you know what happens if you go
Speaker 1: near my trunk. It's hospital time. What time? It's hospital time?
Speaker 1: Say it again, it's hospital time. Okay, hold on on
Speaker 1: that note. I'm gonna go go to my trunk alright, alright,
Speaker 1: I'm not gonna ask about it. Um, the Ron Burgundy
Speaker 1: Podcast will be right back. I guess hello everyone, I'm
Speaker 1: Ron Burgundy, and today on the podcast you'll be getting
Speaker 1: some top shelf culture with some of the finest poetry
Speaker 1: you've ever heard in your life, my own, Carolina, do
Speaker 1: me and our listeners a favorite and describe what you're
Speaker 1: looking at. Um. Ron went into his trunk, his sacred trunk,
Speaker 1: and um, well, there are boxes and boxes of crumpled
Speaker 1: paper and napkins and like rolls and rolls and rolls
Speaker 1: of toilet paper, pristine rolls of toilet paper, and um
Speaker 1: and notebooks all over the studio. Now, way more than
Speaker 1: I feel like I could fit in the trunk of
Speaker 1: your car. But I guess not so not so. Packing
Speaker 1: a trunk of a car is an art form. It
Speaker 1: requires great skill and geometric knowledge, which I possess in spades.
Speaker 1: I could and probably will, do a whole show on
Speaker 1: packing a car trunk. Write that down, Carolina, how to
Speaker 1: pack your car? That's an episode. Damn it, You're you're
Speaker 1: not writing it down. Ron Burgundy and the Art of
Speaker 1: Packing your car? How about that for a ratings bonanza?
Speaker 1: Write it down. Okay, folks, if you're listening at home,
Speaker 1: well you'd have to be listening. Young Carolina has her
Speaker 1: arms folded like a librarian with a stick upper butt.
Speaker 1: And she is not, I repeat, not writing a thing down.
Speaker 1: But I love it for that. She is a dinder
Speaker 1: doodle bodkin by Colly. Anyway, I'm going to read some
Speaker 1: poetry today, some great poetry. So sit back and prepare
Speaker 1: to be blown away. Are you ready to Carolina? I'm sorry,
Speaker 1: I'm having trouble concentrating. How many rolls of toilet paper
Speaker 1: do you have here? It looks like you had like
Speaker 1: a hundred rolls of toilet paper in the trunk of
Speaker 1: your car. Yes, for tonight? What do you mean for tonight?
Speaker 1: Are you doing something? How many rolls of toilet paper
Speaker 1: do you use in one day? I'm not going to
Speaker 1: tell you that no nobody, because nobody believes me, so
Speaker 1: I'll believe you. But how many do you use? Now?
Speaker 1: I have to know how many do I use? I
Speaker 1: use sixty rolls of toilet paper a day. Now you don't,
Speaker 1: that's not possible. Listen. I like to groom. I like
Speaker 1: to put cologne on my neck. I like to brush
Speaker 1: my chest hair from time to time. And yes, I
Speaker 1: like to wipe, all right, can we please just get
Speaker 1: back to the episode. And I like to wipe vigorously
Speaker 1: and often. All right, I'm sorry, okay, I am, in
Speaker 1: fact curious about what kind of poetry you write. So yeah,
Speaker 1: let's get back to the I'll tell you what type
Speaker 1: I write, only the best. Okay, So hand me, hand
Speaker 1: me one from that stack over there, all right, let
Speaker 1: me unfold this. Yes, oh, this one is called the bucket.
Speaker 1: I read there once was a man from Nantucket who
Speaker 1: kept all his whoop in a bucket. After a week,
Speaker 1: the bucket did leak, so he found a bag and said,
Speaker 1: that's quite a poem, am, I right, sure it's. I mean,
Speaker 1: it's a limerick, but it's a form of poetry. I
Speaker 1: guess if you want to call that. Okay, So, so
Speaker 1: you don't like that one, I can do more than limericks. Here,
Speaker 1: hand me another, all right. This one is called the
Speaker 1: magical Can. I once knew a man in a van
Speaker 1: who pooped in a magical can. Jesus, the more he
Speaker 1: would pooh, the more the can grew. It truly was
Speaker 1: a magical can. I like the delivery sensational, right, sure,
Speaker 1: I can tell that the pride is there. Yes, And
Speaker 1: here's a little fun tidbit. I remember where that one
Speaker 1: came to me. I was walking the great Pacific rim Trail.
Speaker 1: It was morning, and the birds were just beginning the
Speaker 1: long symphony of their day. The sun appeared over the
Speaker 1: eastern ridge, spreading a glorious orange red light, and the
Speaker 1: magic steve. It all flooded in a great wave of
Speaker 1: warm inner feeling I shall never forget. So then you
Speaker 1: were moved. You just had to get it down. The
Speaker 1: poem about poop Carolina. You know, not the mind of
Speaker 1: the poet. The poet is a dreamer and a dancer, right, Okay,
Speaker 1: I'm just curious. Have you written anything that's not a limerick? Um?
Speaker 1: Let me see, hand me one from that pile. Okay, yes, okay.
Speaker 1: I once knew a lady named Regina. We had cucumbers
Speaker 1: up her. Not appropriate? Okay, give me another. Okay, there
Speaker 1: once was a bloke who was all wrong, but who
Speaker 1: was blessed with an elephant dong. Okay, that must be
Speaker 1: my my blue pile for adult crowds only got it. Okay,
Speaker 1: So that's why I don't know if I've ever told
Speaker 1: you about this, But there was a time when I
Speaker 1: was hired to do risk scap parties for adults only.
Speaker 1: It was a way to make some extra bucks on
Speaker 1: the side, and not a bad place to pick up
Speaker 1: a board housewife. I might add I was known around
Speaker 1: San Diego not as Ron Burgundy, but as Slappy Newsome,
Speaker 1: and I booked a lot of parties. I still perform
Speaker 1: from time to time as Slappy Newsom. If I'm short
Speaker 1: on bread. Well, you don't want to hear about that.
Speaker 1: Everything's always great with Ron, as far as you know,
Speaker 1: it's not never any problems. Ald Ron on top of
Speaker 1: the world. Well, sometimes it feels like fire ants have
Speaker 1: crawled up my Okay, okay, what what's in that box
Speaker 1: over there? Probably Limerix from what you've read, Okay, give
Speaker 1: me that. Okay, all right, I read they're Once was
Speaker 1: a woman named Leah here we go, and she loved
Speaker 1: to drink her sangria. But when she ate some roast duck,
Speaker 1: she ran out of luck when the bird caused her
Speaker 1: to squirt diarrhea. Oh come on, come on, what maybe
Speaker 1: something more serious? Diarrhea is serious business? Okay, serious business,
Speaker 1: don't mess around a diarrhea. It's nothing to laugh about.
Speaker 1: That poem was more like a public service announcement. But okay,
Speaker 1: what's in that box over there? Hand me one from
Speaker 1: that box. Ah? Yes, The Phantom Wind by Ronald R. Burgundy.
Speaker 1: This must be one of my my more youthful poems.
Speaker 1: When the world was young and love lingered longingly in
Speaker 1: the air. I was probably no older than you when
Speaker 1: this poem was written. Oh, I bet it's a limerick.
Speaker 1: Heck no. I said this to some serious literary journal
Speaker 1: like Reader's Digest, to be published so I could make
Speaker 1: my way in the world as a young writer, long
Speaker 1: before my prestigious career in the news business. Hm, I'll read,
Speaker 1: let me read it the Phantom Wind. The wind blew
Speaker 1: into town today, dressed in linen and lace. She held
Speaker 1: herself in great esteem. Even as she brushed my face.
Speaker 1: I was unaware of where she went other faces angrily,
Speaker 1: I guessed. She left so quickly then, and left me
Speaker 1: with what I missed. Are you okay? You don't look okay?
Speaker 1: Ron ron come on, are you have to do it?
Speaker 1: Poujie is a double edged sword. You know. It cuts
Speaker 1: both ways. Beauty and the ugly truth, joy and sadness.
Speaker 1: Sometimes the pain keep going of creation is simply bearable. Okay,
Speaker 1: oh the muses, Why do you ensnare me and your
Speaker 1: tortures guile? I don't know, al right, Hand me one
Speaker 1: from that pile. Here we go. This one is called
Speaker 1: simply the tart. I once knew a fabulous tart who
Speaker 1: was chased out of town on a card. But before
Speaker 1: she did go, she let her butt blow a most
Speaker 1: magnificent fart. That wonderful poetry is the window to the soul,
Speaker 1: they say. My my favorite poet is Ron McEwen, probably
Speaker 1: the greatest American poet of all time. But then you
Speaker 1: know that, Oh no, I actually I've never heard of him.
Speaker 1: Of course, I'm sure your favorite poet is Britney Spears
Speaker 1: or whoever you listen to when you're not out riding
Speaker 1: your horse. I don't ride a horse, Yes you do, No,
Speaker 1: I don't. Metaphorically speaking, what do you think girls do like?
Speaker 1: I don't have dollies. I don't ride a horse. Okay,
Speaker 1: I take it back, it's not a metaphor. You straight
Speaker 1: up ride a horse. You call the horse horsey because
Speaker 1: you lack imagination. Tell me I'm right. I'm not going
Speaker 1: to tell you no, I don't ride a horse. Okay,
Speaker 1: you win. I thought I knew you, But you're as
Speaker 1: foreign to me as a pair of blue jeans. I
Speaker 1: want to hear another poem. I mean, okay, what about
Speaker 1: a love poem. I think everyone would like to hear
Speaker 1: a Ron Burgundy love poem. Make it like coming right
Speaker 1: up hand me that. Oh, yes, that napkin from the
Speaker 1: stack over there. Yes, Oh, I remember this, Jim. I
Speaker 1: wrote this one night in a two dollar hotel room
Speaker 1: in San Francisco, back when they had two dollar hotel rooms.
Speaker 1: It's called the daffodils. Death deals everywhere in bunches and
Speaker 1: spread out all over the room I'm in. It's an
Speaker 1: explosion of daffodils. All I can say is wow, here
Speaker 1: and there daffodils on my bed and on the window sill. Daffodils.
Speaker 1: There must be hundreds of them. Wait, they're not called daffodils.
Speaker 1: I was confused. They're called ladybugs. That that was your
Speaker 1: This doesn't sound like a love poem. It sounds more
Speaker 1: like maybe in nature. I don't know, I don't know
Speaker 1: what that was. Well, when you're older and you've traveled
Speaker 1: the world and seen men cut by knives and monsters
Speaker 1: of every shape and size, you'll understand that that was
Speaker 1: indeed a love poem. Give me another one quick, here
Speaker 1: we go, all right? Ah the Best by Ron Burgundy.
Speaker 1: I am the very best there is. There's no one
Speaker 1: better in the biz. I know how to get it done.
Speaker 1: It's why I'm own as number one. My shoes and
Speaker 1: my belt are leather. My overcoat can handle any weather.
Speaker 1: I have many handmade boots. I have many more handmade suits.
Speaker 1: I own hundreds of movies on VHS. So you see,
Speaker 1: I am the best. Good but not great. Yeah, not
Speaker 1: as moving. Yeah, I probably that one out on a
Speaker 1: bus or something. You know, not every poem is going
Speaker 1: to be worthy of an oscar. But still it's worth
Speaker 1: publishing in a book. I don't well, I'm sorry. Why
Speaker 1: haven't you put all these poems in a buck? Oh
Speaker 1: that's a great question. Well, I I have plans right now.
Speaker 1: I have enough for sixteen volumes of poetry, roughly the
Speaker 1: size of a set of encyclopedias. But I don't want
Speaker 1: to separate them. So I'm designing one book about the
Speaker 1: size of a California King bed battress. It's going to
Speaker 1: be over ten thousand pages long, and it should weigh
Speaker 1: around seven hundred pounds, but I'd like it to cost
Speaker 1: around fourteen bucks. And and that's well, it's funny you
Speaker 1: should say that, because that's where the big publishing houses
Speaker 1: are fighting me. They say it's the size that they're
Speaker 1: bumping up against. And I may end up building my
Speaker 1: own printing press to get around that. That would really
Speaker 1: turn the publishing world upside down. A seven hundred pound
Speaker 1: book of poetry the size of a bed mattress. Think
Speaker 1: about that. I mean, I've always been a disruptor. I
Speaker 1: believe in going against the status quo. And and if
Speaker 1: you're a poet, then you know how I feel. Lord
Speaker 1: at all lauded it? Lord did it at all? Lord Lord,
Speaker 1: don't deed de lord do don't do deed? Lord de
Speaker 1: lorded DoD Lord de lord, dear don't lord DoD do
Speaker 1: de de lord de lordie do de run? Hello, Hello,
Speaker 1: run Carolina? How did you get in my room? I'm
Speaker 1: sorry you were lost there for a second. Are you
Speaker 1: going to read more poetry? Do? I'll leave you? Okay,
Speaker 1: give me another one? Oh? Okay? Oh my what do
Speaker 1: we have here? Oh, perhaps perhaps this one is too personal,
Speaker 1: too raw. Let's uh yeah, let's save that for another day.
Speaker 1: Some of these poems go straight to my heart and
Speaker 1: I and I'm honest not sure if I have the
Speaker 1: courage to share them with all the world. Okay, we'll
Speaker 1: pass on that one. No, no, damn it. They were
Speaker 1: meant to be shared, no matter how revealing, I'll do it.
Speaker 1: I feel compelled to let the listeners know. This poem
Speaker 1: is as close to say T. S. Eliot or Sylvia
Speaker 1: Plath as I can get. There's nuance here in every word,
Speaker 1: but for the secret of truth, there's a great reward
Speaker 1: in discovering its meaning. In short, this might be my
Speaker 1: most personal poem. Okay, wow, okay, it's titled what did
Speaker 1: you say? That's exciting? I'm interested. It's titled the Man
Speaker 1: from Afar. Okay, h and I read. I once had
Speaker 1: a roommate named Steve, and he had one big pet Peeve.
Speaker 1: When I ate all his beans and took out his window,
Speaker 1: that's when he begged me to leave. Wonderful, simply wonderful.
Speaker 1: Hand me another, milady, I'm sorry, where is Steve today?
Speaker 1: Do you know? Well, Honestly, that was the least of
Speaker 1: our problems. Yes, when I out his window, I mean
Speaker 1: we we had so many bigger issues as roommates. I'm
Speaker 1: going to say some constructive criticism about that pass. I
Speaker 1: don't think it's that good. That's my note. I it's
Speaker 1: not like Sylvia Plath or t s Elliott at all.
Speaker 1: So I don't know why. Okay, And I will say
Speaker 1: this back to you. Get off my chain, okay, because
Speaker 1: I write in the style that is best for what
Speaker 1: I'm trying to convey. You want an epic, I have epics.
Speaker 1: You want to sonnet, I have sonnets. You you want
Speaker 1: a nursery rhyme? I have those two. Great, Okay, give
Speaker 1: me a nursery rhyme. We'll do. We'll do. Hand that
Speaker 1: purple box over there. Okay. These are these ones that
Speaker 1: are written in cran Yes, I mean it's the only
Speaker 1: way to write nursery rhymes. Someone should put out a
Speaker 1: book of my nursery rhymes. Mother goose as one probably
Speaker 1: not her real name, by the way, probably something like
Speaker 1: gooster Lich or goose Bomb, and she changed it to
Speaker 1: sell more books. If I was a betting man, I
Speaker 1: would say her name was Jennifer goos Ington and some
Speaker 1: smartass publisher came up with mother Goose. Anyway, I think
Speaker 1: I should have a book of nursery rhymes out there.
Speaker 1: I would call it ron Burgundy's Better Bountiful Book of
Speaker 1: silly children's Verse. I can't wait to read that. Um.
Speaker 1: Let's hear one. Okay, this one's called the spider Spider,
Speaker 1: Spider way a pie. Do you want my cherry pie?
Speaker 1: Come down, Come down on your string. Let me hear
Speaker 1: your small mouth sing, sing me a spider lullaby, and
Speaker 1: you shall have my cherry pie. That wasn't actually that bad,
Speaker 1: I'm compared to some of your other stuff. I mean,
Speaker 1: I was expecting more of an adult version of children's
Speaker 1: verse coming from you, But I'm impressed that was That
Speaker 1: was reasonable. Yeah, I mean I know my way around
Speaker 1: nursery rhymes, young lady, Okay, I can see that. Here's
Speaker 1: one one time, two time, three time four We used
Speaker 1: our butts to mop the floor. Yeah, that's more simple, straightforward,
Speaker 1: easy on the ears. Oh, poetry should be easy on
Speaker 1: the ears, which is not to say all poetry should
Speaker 1: be about kittens and lambs. No poetry needs to explore
Speaker 1: darker subjects man's inner struggles, loss and pain and suffering,
Speaker 1: war and famine, heartbreak and fear. This is a poem
Speaker 1: I wrote that addresses such depth of exploration of which
Speaker 1: I speak. It's simply titled Venus. M hmm. That night
Speaker 1: there was something between us. She said she was from
Speaker 1: the planet Venus, from below and above. We made sweet love.
Speaker 1: In the morning she showed me her penis. Well, what
Speaker 1: do you think? Huh? Pretty solid? Right, that's a poem.
Speaker 1: That is a poem, I guess. Okay, Ms Swarthmore if
Speaker 1: you think you can read me a better one, any
Speaker 1: poem you can remember, or something from the internet, really anything,
Speaker 1: I'll tell you if it's up to my standards. Oh um,
Speaker 1: well I didn't go to Swarthmore. Well, one of the
Speaker 1: s schools Smith Swinkleton's scripts. Suremount Shire Shop, you know
Speaker 1: what I'm talking about. Just read something. Um, okay, here's
Speaker 1: one I've actually always loved. It's by one of my
Speaker 1: favorite poets, um, Emily Dickinson. She was just mind blowing, profound.
Speaker 1: I'm assuming you've heard of her. I dated a woman
Speaker 1: named Emily Dickinson back in the seventies, not the same
Speaker 1: one that was a wild ride, my friends, a wild ride.
Speaker 1: I have not thought about that girl in over forty years.
Speaker 1: Oh boy, you want to talk about a wild ride.
Speaker 1: That was some wild ride? I get it. Okay, Well,
Speaker 1: this Emily Dickinson, the one I'm talking about. She wrote
Speaker 1: the poem I'm about to read sometime in um must
Speaker 1: have been the middle of the last century. We are
Speaker 1: talking about two different women. Then my Emily, Yes, because
Speaker 1: she was no poet. She was a free spirit, for sure.
Speaker 1: She never wore a bra good, I guess. Heck, she
Speaker 1: never wore clothes as far as I can remember that.
Speaker 1: You know that the seventies should be remembered as one
Speaker 1: long orgy as far as I'm concerned. This is getting
Speaker 1: off subject. But in nineteen seventy three I went to
Speaker 1: an orgy that I didn't leave until nineteen seventy five.
Speaker 1: That's two years of orgy, buddy, that's a lot of orgy.
Speaker 1: And I think Emily was there. But then so many
Speaker 1: people dropped in and out. Suzanne Plachette, Robert Blake, Robert
Speaker 1: Conrad Hope, laying the list goes on. Anyway, I'm getting
Speaker 1: off subject. You were going to read some poem from
Speaker 1: some woman no one's ever heard of go um okay,
Speaker 1: it's called I'm Nobody? Who are You? By Emily Dickinson. Um,
Speaker 1: I'm nobody? Who are you? Are you nobody too? Then
Speaker 1: there's a pair of us. Don't tell. I don't think so.
Speaker 1: They'd banish us. You know, how dreary to be somebody?
Speaker 1: H how public like a frog? Like a frog to
Speaker 1: tell your name the Livelong day to an admiring bog. Okay,
Speaker 1: I mean she can rhyme, Yeah, she can spit. But
Speaker 1: I don't know if that's considered a good poem. It's
Speaker 1: considered a great poem. I mean, if if it is,
Speaker 1: then I think I have a pretty good chance of
Speaker 1: winning the Best Poem Awards day. Here's how I would
Speaker 1: have done it, off the top of my head, going
Speaker 1: to revise the poem. Let me okay, Uh, there once
Speaker 1: was a guy who was nobody who filled his belly
Speaker 1: with hot toddy. Um, you drank so much whiskey, stomach
Speaker 1: felt frisky, and he let loose a fifty pound partty.
Speaker 1: It goes back to the poop. Huh. Yeah, that blows
Speaker 1: the doors off off of that ditty you read. I mean,
Speaker 1: if Emily Dickinson was here in the room, she'd probably
Speaker 1: be like, I'm so jealous of what you just came
Speaker 1: up with. Maybe maybe, I mean, I think she'd be floored.
Speaker 1: There's no way to know. She might be offended. And
Speaker 1: mine has a moral too, you know. I mean, I'm
Speaker 1: not saying this. Emily Dickinson isn't good, right, She's okay,
Speaker 1: But you gotta admit, I nail that sucker. And that
Speaker 1: was off the top of my head. And she probably
Speaker 1: spent days thinking of her little rhyme. She is really
Speaker 1: considered one of the greatest poets ever and you wait
Speaker 1: her poem, wait her really? Yes, a woman poet, one
Speaker 1: of the greatest. What a wonderful world we live in.
Speaker 1: It's it's really extraordinary. I mean, you know, Carolina. Every
Speaker 1: day I wake up in this menagerie of color and sound,
Speaker 1: and I see beautiful new things happening. Music I've never
Speaker 1: heard before, cars with no sound, labradoodles, and yoga pants.
Speaker 1: It's truly a magical place. Sure we have bigotry and
Speaker 1: hate and angry men and women running around, but with
Speaker 1: each new day comes the promise of surprise. I can
Speaker 1: hardly believe it. And now you're saying a woman poet
Speaker 1: is one of the best. Wonderful. It's simply wonderful, it
Speaker 1: really is. That's beautiful, it's beautifully put. It's extraordinarily well put. Yeah,
Speaker 1: I was. I don't know what else you want me
Speaker 1: to say. If yes, it was amazing. You know, Carolina,
Speaker 1: A lot of times when you look at me, you
Speaker 1: don't blink. Are you aware of that tick? I didn't really,
Speaker 1: I didn't think of it like a tick. I think
Speaker 1: I'm just looking at you in the eye. It's freaking
Speaker 1: you out. I don't know. I just I'm just noticing
Speaker 1: it now for the first time. You barely blink. I blink. Look,
Speaker 1: I'm blinking, blink, blink blink. Well, no, now your eyes
Speaker 1: were just shut. Though. I'm a normal human. I'm normal.
Speaker 1: You're strange. I'm normal. Well, if that's what you have
Speaker 1: to tell yourself to get through the day, then I'm
Speaker 1: proud of you. Okay, let's get back to the task
Speaker 1: at hand. You know what, I feel like, I'd like
Speaker 1: to try something from my my beatnick years, So do
Speaker 1: me the favor and give me that that old leather
Speaker 1: bag over there, Yes, that one. I'm sorry. There's just
Speaker 1: so much toilet paper. It's it's fine, just past, just
Speaker 1: past it. Yes, I didn't know you were a beat, Nick,
Speaker 1: I think I missed that chapter. Well, I hung around.
Speaker 1: I knew most of the beats. Uh Karroac Gainsburg. I
Speaker 1: hitched across the country and road box cars and worked
Speaker 1: the railroad anyway. I carried around an old Smith Corona
Speaker 1: typewriter in a beat up old suitcase. I used to
Speaker 1: pound out versus for kicks. And here's what I wrote, well,
Speaker 1: riding rail out of Needles, California. It's called into the
Speaker 1: desert with nothing to wear. And maybe Nick, you guys
Speaker 1: can throw some jazz fluid and some bongos behind this one.
Speaker 1: I mean, what are we what are we paying you
Speaker 1: guys for anyway? Right? Yeah, we can. It's not a problem.
Speaker 1: I mean, I know it's not pushing a button and
Speaker 1: would require a little thought and some work. But who knows,
Speaker 1: maybe after three seasons of this podcast they could get
Speaker 1: their thumbs out of their butts and do something for me.
Speaker 1: You know, that's not necessary, just a suggestion. Anyway. Once again,
Speaker 1: it's called into the desert with nothing to wear, into
Speaker 1: the desert, it's nothing to wear. I left my overcoat
Speaker 1: back in Sacelito. Back in Sacelito, there was wine and
Speaker 1: talk and more and more talk, empty headed angels banging
Speaker 1: their brains against the red sky, dawn, seagulls circling the moon,
Speaker 1: sal ketchen, the old American walking right up to the
Speaker 1: edge of the water to give thanks. And then the night,
Speaker 1: all nights give way to the dawn. So it was
Speaker 1: in Sarcelito they had this little train shack out back
Speaker 1: by the rail yard, and this old guy switchman or
Speaker 1: brakeman or something would play as old harmonica for the
Speaker 1: hoboes and all the ghosts of hoboes past. And I
Speaker 1: would come in from the cold and share his wine
Speaker 1: and talk railroad politics and girls he knew, and loves
Speaker 1: he never knew, and the big dark world he once
Speaker 1: traversed with great bounding steps longing, not unlike my own longing.
Speaker 1: A lonesome night never ended hands in Pocket, Portland, Frisco, Detroit, Omaha,
Speaker 1: where the boys and girls grow tall and straight, and
Speaker 1: the far off whistle of the train calls out even
Speaker 1: to them in their sleeping. The desert is cold, man,
Speaker 1: I'd give anything to have that overcoat now roun Burgundy
Speaker 1: needles California, September nine. Wow, well there you have it,
Speaker 1: something from my beatenick period. It It's been a long
Speaker 1: time since my rough and rowdy days, but still look
Speaker 1: fondly on that time. I'm sorry you said, um, how
Speaker 1: old were you? If I would have been around eleven
Speaker 1: or twelve years old, I guess, and you were riding
Speaker 1: train cars and drinking. Look, buddy, we didn't all grow
Speaker 1: up drinking whole milk from mama's tits, if you know
Speaker 1: what I mean. I don't um any more poems to
Speaker 1: read for today. This is a poem I wrote today
Speaker 1: in my head. It's an ode to you. Oh really,
Speaker 1: I actually no one's ever written me a poem before. Okay, well,
Speaker 1: I'm nervous, and I don't want you to think it's stupid. No, no, no, no,
Speaker 1: I won't. I promise I'm not going to be mean
Speaker 1: or anything. Okay, an ode. I call it simply my
Speaker 1: best friend. And it goes like this, I once knew
Speaker 1: a woman named Carolina with a wonderful smile and a
Speaker 1: human vagina. Jesus Christ, but I do not care what's
Speaker 1: going on down there, because what's important to me what
Speaker 1: I tell everyone I see there is no one finer
Speaker 1: run that is so wait, it's not finished, Carolina, Carolina,
Speaker 1: I lied to you, Okay, I don't use sixty rolls
Speaker 1: of toilet paper. I really use seventy five a day. Wipe, wipe,
Speaker 1: wipe your butt front to back, my cheeks. Clap, clap, clap,
Speaker 1: And that one is for you, Carolina. You know what,
Speaker 1: Maybe we should call it quits to the poetry for today. Okay,
Speaker 1: if you say so. But I feel I was just
Speaker 1: picking up steam. I mean, the hundreds of boxes in
Speaker 1: this room are only a fraction of what I've written
Speaker 1: and collected over the years, so many poems, and most
Speaker 1: of them the good kind. I mean, I I don't
Speaker 1: want to get the listeners excited. But if I started
Speaker 1: reading my poetry out and I never took a break,
Speaker 1: I wouldn't finish reading until October of this year. You
Speaker 1: don't need to do that. Isn't that extraordinary to think about?
Speaker 1: They've only heard a few, maybe not even my best ones.
Speaker 1: These are only the poems I keep in my trunk.
Speaker 1: We we could take a break, and I could drive
Speaker 1: out to my storage unit in Kingman, Arizona and grab
Speaker 1: some more boxes. You know what, I think we're good.
Speaker 1: I think the listeners gott an idea of the kind
Speaker 1: of poetry you write. I want to take a break. Yes,
Speaker 1: all kinds, but mainly limericks, and mainly dirty limericks about
Speaker 1: hoop and Vagina's touche. Yeah, I do love that form.
Speaker 1: Here's one. Do we have to do just one more? Okay,
Speaker 1: maybe when we're off the air. Actually it's it's not
Speaker 1: a limerick. It's not. Nope, are you sure well? It is?
Speaker 1: It is a limit, right, Yeah, maybe we can save
Speaker 1: it for another day, you know, well, so be it.
Speaker 1: But I do want to say I think we've we've
Speaker 1: learned quite a lot today about poetry and about ourselves.
Speaker 1: For what is a poet if not a kind of
Speaker 1: truth teller? Why poetry at all? If not to shed
Speaker 1: light on the darkness of our lives. It doesn't have
Speaker 1: to be Shakespeare, of course, or Burgundy. It could be
Speaker 1: some little ditty from the radio that pulls you out
Speaker 1: of your doldrums. For there is poetry and everything, from
Speaker 1: the raindrops that fall, to the sound of crashing waves,
Speaker 1: to the great bleeding of the mountain elk, to the
Speaker 1: howl of the Oregon skunk owl. And yes I made
Speaker 1: that one up. There is no Oregon skunk owl, but
Speaker 1: if there was one, it would howl like one hundred
Speaker 1: wolves and shake the snow from trees with its hideous
Speaker 1: piercing howl. But alas there is no Oregon skunk owl.
Speaker 1: I wish there was, but it just can't be. I
Speaker 1: did draw one, if but where was I Yes, my
Speaker 1: closing remarks about poetry, Yes, honor the poets in our world.
Speaker 1: Shower them with garlands and riches for it as they
Speaker 1: who keep the soul alive while the world turns to
Speaker 1: ship I'm Ron Burgundy. Good night, and for Carolina here
Speaker 1: I will say good night as well. Hold up, Hold up,
Speaker 1: hold up, hold up, hold up, hold up one more second.
Speaker 1: I think I will read just one more. This is
Speaker 1: actually when I was in the death Jam scene. You
Speaker 1: know what I'm getting the signal we are out of times. Okay,
Speaker 1: here we go. Listen up, Listen up, listen up, listen up. Okay,
Speaker 1: put them off. Thank you. By the way, Oregon skunk
Speaker 1: out on. Add that to the list of potential topics. Okay,
Speaker 1: I