I met a man in monochrome
With startled hair and beamish grin;
His voice with walnut overtones;
A fine runcible chin.
His laid-back style and empty face
Suggested at initial sight
His thinking apparatus lit
A paltry five watt light.
He had a friend, a portly chap
So accidentally debonair
Who flicked his tie, then caught my eye
With quite a stonished stare.
“Please let us introduce ourselves”
Announced he without quarrel,
“I'm Oliver Norville Hardy, this
Is my friend Stanley Laurel.”
Examining my sense of doubt,
I realised with growing rate,
Their lack of any rainbow hue
Confirmed my dreamlike state.
Meanwhile, the slighter of the two
(Without a match or flame in sight)
Reclined into a comfy chair
And "thumbed" his pipe alight.
And as he settled in his seat
Producing clouds of surreal smoke,
I had to take my derby off
To this amazing bloke.
Despite suggesting quiet alarm;
Sad panic in his droll visage,
Stan's stance reflected inner karm;
A genial wit, writ large.
He twined his fingers in his hair
And pulled his copyrighted grin
And tried for all the world to look
As if there's no-one in.
But I had seen behind the mask
That he habitually hid behind,
And Arthur Stanley Jefferson
Was there for all to find.
"There's more to you than meets the eye",
Enthusiastically said I.
"You think I'm no fool, but I am",
Came cryptic the reply.
As if to prove his point he took
A ripe banana from a bowl,
Unpeeled it and behold – inside
There was no fruit at all!
"You play the clown so perfectly
That everyone assumes you're daft,
But I know to the contrary –
You excel at your craft."
"You seem to have me all worked out"
My guest acknowledged with a grin,
"But don't forget my partner here,
I'm nothing without him."
"I think you must excuse my friend,
He's really not himself today."
Thus spoke the larger of the twain;
This man they all called "Babe".
"I've never known him so verbose
And acting like a proper toff,
He must have hit his head quite hard
To take a whole day off."
Just then, as if on cue, the light
Blew right out of its socket,
So Stan, unfazed, produced a lighted
candle from his pocket.
The look on Ollie's countenance
Summed up the surrealistic sight:-
If this guy is from Planet Earth
Then I'll go fly a kite...
I felt as if I'd come to know
This dimwit duo from the past
And had a chance to tell them that
their subtle wit would last.
A little nonsense now and then
They say is relished by the wise,
But wise men make the greatest fools,
I think you realize.
... And as they headed Way Out West
Poor Ollie put his best foot wide
And slipped on Stan's banana skin –
“See what yer did?” – Stan cried.
© Elwood Herring - Stan's Birthday 1999
