Out of wedlock

Two weeks ago on July 21, serious hiking and climbing enthusiasts from all over North America gathered at St. Mary to honor the memory of our fallen hero, Dr. Gordon Edwards. During testimony about his varied and exciting life, there was a short mention made of his association with the famed writer Ogden Nash and a poem from long ago.

Many there were curious about that bit of forgotten literature, which Gordon shared with me many years ago . . . so I will share with you.

In 1933, the already famous Nash wrote this racy ditty as a quartet, which was sung at the Dutch Treat Club in New York.

It was also published in a Simon & Schuster pamphlet, "Happy Days," now out of print.

Dr. Gordon Edwards learned the poem from a fellow soldier at Camp Forrest, Tenn., and he wrote to Nash in 1943 asking for conformation of authorship. Nash answered and said yes he had written it, and he corrected a few words on Gordon's enclosed, handwritten copy.

In discussing the poem which now might be considered "politically incorrect," Nash noted that " . . . people felt that way in 1933."

Gordon Edwards and Ogden Nash did correspond at least once, in 1969, long after the war and their soldiering were over. The poem is not just amusing; it reflects very real attitudes from our American social history, portrayed as only the pen of Ogden Nash could do it:

"Four Prominent Bastards"

"I'm an autocratic figure in these democratic states,

A dandy demonstration of hereditary traits.

My position at the apex of society I owe,

To the qualities of my parents, bequeathed me long ago.

My father was a gentleman and musical to boot,

He used to play piano in a house of ill repute.

Now the madam was a lady - a credit to her cult,

She liked my daddy's playing, and I was the result.

So my father and my mother are the ones I have to thank,

That I'm the Chairman of the Board of the County Nat'l Bank."

"In a cozy little farmhouse, in a sunny little dell,

A dear old-fashioned farmer and his daughter used to dwell.

She was pretty she was charming; she was tender; she was mild;

Her sympathy was such that she was frequently with child.

The year her hospitality attained a record high,

She became a mother of a baby which was I.

Whenever she was gloomy, I could always make her grin,

By childishly inquiring whom my daddy might have been.

Now the hired man was favored by the gals in mommy's set,

And a traveling man from Scranton was an even-moneyed bet.

But such were mammy's morals and such was her allure,

That even Roger Bobson wasn't altogether sure.

So I took my mammy's morals and I took my daddy's crust,

And I grew to be the founder of a big investment trust."

"In a dusty little chain gang on a sunny southern road,

My late lamented pappy made his permanent abode.

Now some were there for stealing, but daddy's only fault,

Was an overwhelming weakness for criminal assault.

His philosophy was simple; and free from moral tape,

'Seduction is for sissies, but a he man likes his rape.'

I remember daddy's warning that rape is a crime,

Unless you rape the voters a million at a time.

I'm a debit to my country and a credit to my dad,

The most expensive senator, this nation ever had."

"I'm an ordinary figure in these democratic states,

An awful demonstration of hereditary traits.

My position at the bottom, of society I owe,

To the qualities my parents bequeathed me long ago.

My father was a married man, and what's even more,

He was married to my mother, a fact that I deplore.

I was born in holy wedlock, consequently, by and by,

I was rooked by every bastard with plunder in his eye.

I invested: I deposited: I voted every fall,

And if I ever saved a penny, those bastards took it all.

At last I've learned my lesson and I'm on the proper track,

I'm a self-appointed bastard and I'm going to get it back!"

Written by Ogden Nash, 1933