We all know and have used that expression about the recurrence of things that seem to find their way into our lives. Mostly, insignificant things in the big picture, but things that happen enough times that we think that we would have accumulated a small fortune had we been remunerated every time they happened.
I learned this expression from my dad. He owned an auto salvage biz aka “junkyard” with an 8.5 acre backlot. There were always lots of guys roaming around in the back. He would describe the yard as the world’s biggest urinal and then add, “if I had a nickel for every time someone took a leak back there, I could live off the interest.” The place opened in 1948. I’m thinking he probably was right. And accounting for inflation and increasing the price of a piss, it would have probably created, pardon the pun, a revenue stream that would have provided for many generations of his progeny.
But draining for dollars is not the subject of this limerick. The expression, “If I had a dollar for every time…” is. In this case, specifically as it pertains to my reaction to watching my teams, the Cleveland Browns, The Cleveland Indians (soon to be Guardians), the Cleveland Cavaliers, the Houston Astros, Houston Rockets, Houston Texans and the team with my strongest love and loyalty, THE CLEMSON TIGERS, on TV. Invariably, any time that I am watching one of my teams on TV, the broadcasters have bet against them and then do nothing but talk about what their opponent has to do to beat them. This usually morphs into out and out rooting against my team. My reaction to that is what could only be expected – my screaming “FUCK YOU” or some derivative of that at the television. Last night, while watching the Astros shutout the Red Sox and shut up everyone on the Fox broadcast team hoping Boston would bounce back and not get bounced out, I must have fired out a “FUCK YOU” every minute or so as they were so obnoxious and blatant. Then it occurred to me that “If I had a dollar for every time I yelled FUCK YOU at a TV screen while watching my teams,” over the course of my lifetime, I would be one very rich man. And it led to this:
I’m not one for making a scene,
But when broadcasters my teams demean,
I would need a Brinks truck
If I had a buck
For every time I yelled “FUCK” at the screen.
And that was for last night alone!
Poet's Corner 