OLEAN -- We are in receipt of this document from Prof. John Hanchette, who says he was driving down a mountainside in a snowstorm when it mysteriously blew in his car window. He has no knowledge of the true author.
Pardon me neighbors as nice as you please
I'd like your attention, or else I will sneeze
The holiday season's upon us with cheer
Well, some of us, maybe -- but not me, I fear
It's always such cumbersome, grumbersome piffle
With squadrons of merchants who hustle your giffle
With red-lighted roofs and electric reindeer
And multi-bulbed gizmos and elves with a sneer
With jolly St. Nick, his big rubric nose
Blinking and winking atop wrinkly clothes
The bulbers make Santa Claus look like a toad
Their plug-in contraptions too close to the road
So pardon my snotty old Scrooge-like dismay
My dyspeptic burping that gets in the way
My temper with them that preaches and reaches
Like so many greedy, star-bellied sneetches
The spirits of Christmas now must reveal
The history and mystery, the spoke and the wheel
That rolled on this city like thunder and steel
For so many decades it seemed quite unreal
Who took a nice downtown of so many years
A friendly old venue of wishes and fears
And took a run at it like trolls on Viagra?
Who humbled and ruined beloved Niagara?
You've blamed many gremlins, Niagara neighbors
You pointed at councilmen huffing their labors
You pointed at nitwits and doofus impostors
And bald-headed birdbrains and old snollygosters
Some pointed at taxes and those without clue
Who used their fat heads filled with pasta fazoo
To make up dumb plans that would "urban renew"
The real bottom line: You all were screwed blue
Some blame Love Canal and its spooky mark
That made a whole neighborhood glow in the dark
Brilliant industrialists just couldn't stop
Their plans to let school children play in that glop
Some think it all happened when factories blew town
Hooker and DuPont, their worlds upside down
Union Carbide and rich Carborundum
All falling prey to business conundrum
Oh well, say the optimists, there is some ablution
We may have no jobs, but there's sure less pollution
This hasn't been fun, it's not beer and roses
We've even had editors get broken noses
Some, waggling their fingers, pointed at mayors
Who routinely bungled your urban affairs
Elia, Galie, and Lackey, by crackey
O'Laughlin, Anello, some thought them all wacky
Their mistakes so glaring, their blunders galore:
Let's build factory outlets then close down the store
Let's put up a highway 'tween us and the falls
So no one can view them without climbing walls
Let's charge for parking next to the casino
Put in new meters -- that would be keeno
Just one little problem the tourists all see
They won't drop a coin when next door it's flat free
Let's leave all the road cracks and potholes and such
Just let them grow huge till they rip out your clutch
Water slides and aquariums -- plop them around
Then let them turn rusty or holes in the ground
Let's give 'em nice light shows and loud fireworks
Let's make so much noise they won't know we're jerks
Make the North End a ghost town, put up Winter Gardens
We'll razzle and dazzle with no beg-your-pardons
We'll give nice balloon rides -- so high that you'll shiver
The thrill's so intense your muscles will quiver
Tourists see all the bustle on the river's far side
They say: "Put me down there -- and thanks for the ride!"
We'll put up museums, then let them shut down
Leave offices empty, then scratch heads and frown
Give away public assets -- here's a golf course for you
One is surely enough, you'll never play two
Give Albany dimwits a bunch of free passes
Though they pass stupid laws and act like dumb asses
Let 'em shut down our restaurants -- close their doors without pause
Run off all the patrons with their strict smoking laws
Who caused all this havoc, put you all on your knees?
Who killed all the income, and tore up the trees?
I'll give you a hint, a clue you can ponder
A nice puzzle-solver you won't want to squander
It wasn't the mayors, not planners or zoners
You can spare City Hall the blame for such boners
Let business fat cats and white-collar crooks
Escape all your wrath, wriggle off all your hooks
I'll tell you who did it -- the logic's a cinch
I hope such news doesn't cause you to flinch
I'll reveal the big secret in a squinch and a pinch
It was me who's the culprit -- it was I, The Grinch
I had no good motive, I gave jot nor tittle
My problem is this: My heart is so little
My brain is humongous, not small like a weevil
The trouble is this: I use it for evil
So I pledge you atonement, some small expiation
For the headaches I've caused, for the wide devastation
I'll treat you like Whoville this Christmas season
You'll get nice new things and there won't be a reason
I'll send you so much you'll feel like fat piggies
I'll send you some Senecas selling Internet ciggies
They're making so much, they'll build more gambling halls
Skyscraper hotels all over the Falls
The Seneca Nation won't mind such big pay
After all, they are making two million a day
For their patience and loyalty, they'll realize
I'll convince their card dealers to not unionize
I'll build some new businesses, lots more hotels
We'll paint them all purple and deck them with bells
I'll make the economy hungry to feed
Computer chip factories will grow like a weed
I'll send tax abatements and empire zones
And regional planners talking into cell phones
I'll open the airport to new global use
I'll make Erie greedballs end their abuse
I'll send equilibrists and bold tightrope walkers
I'll get rid of criminals, robbers, and stalkers
We'll let you all vote on the villains to banish
I'll make them go poof, and your troubles will vanish
So, I'm sorry for decades of making you poor
Of making your young folks book daily by scores
You'll all get a break now, take that to the bank
And you'll have just me, The Grinch, for to thank
I'm off back to Whoville to sing sappy songs
To please all the Whos, and right all their wrongs
But remember, Niagara, I won't forget you
You have a bright future -- and now, toodeloooo
| Niagara Falls Reporter | www.niagarafallsreporter.com | Dec. 7 2004 |