I finally got an explication of Barbara Nightingale's "Singing in the Key of L," the title poem of one of her collections: it's "L" as in "hell," or off-key. Those who can't sing or play music, the poem claims, may still dance (or, I suspect, write poetry).
Barbara led off with some family poems (in the sense of Family Entertainment) in deference to a number of her clan who had gathered to listen. But she soon got over her reticence with some fairy tales that were the most adult (in the sense of X) I've heard since Rocky and Bullwinkle went into reruns. Did you know there was an Arabic kama sutra? I've got to get out to the library more!
All this and an Irish dialect, too -- even our first encore, "My Mother Doesn't Feed Me." And I didn't even know she knew my mother ...
Leonard Nash was back for a second try at a tape due to the first one getting lost ... but guess what -- I found the tape! Anyway, it was as good an excuse as any to hear the latest incarnation of his story in progress about a used car salesman with a heart of gold. Surely this is as big a myth as the one about the similarly endowed hooker, but Leonard makes it sound so believeable, I almost forgot about the Cadillac he tried to sell me last year ...
Anyone need a ride home in my van?
- Steve Donachie