By: Alan Brooks
To celebrate James’ semisesquitcentennial,
I’ve had plenty of time to get to know him well.
Perfectionist, patriarchic, perspicacious, et al.,
It’s really a wonder I like him at all.
Jim’s that rare bird — a Republican sans the polemics,
the paranoia or the histrionics.
He can discuss issues without all that tension,
And pose precisely the essential question.
In Jim’s periodontal prime, he was so gentle,
And with our home care not too judgmental.
Whether our finances were flush or quite tight,
For good friends, the price was always right.
For rich food, Jim has a discerning palate.
(Unfathomable to me how he avoids getting fat.)
He is the patron saint of good scotch and fine wine.
Unquestionably, 14 Norwood is the best place to dine.
Jim scours the Capital for all the culture he can,
Where once he was an avid Whalers’ fan.
At Theater Works, the Stage or the Bushnell he’s now found,
Dining beforehand at Max Downtown.
Inside that old man’s frame, a young guy still dwells.
And once in awhile his battered heart swells.
He remembers the joys, he remembers the fame.
He’s desperately trying to live life over again.
The restless traveler, Jim’s in his own special league.
He prepares each excursion like a military siege.
Well in advance, he plans the meticulous trek,
Whether going to Italy, Greece or just Nantucket.
Jim will drive 300 miles for an auction in Maine,
In hopes of a special item to claim.
Returning home empty-handed or object possessing,
In either case, to Jim, a trip well worth taking.
There’s one thing that makes Jim’s old heart soar.
He has, as we all know, his own paramour.
He frequently visits her to have his fun,
Precious hours spent with his mistress, Sharon!
Jim has always owned the very finest cars,
But has been known to leave Danielle with emotional scars. In Europe, he won’t relinquish the highways’ left sides.
At home, out of park, down the drive the car slides!
Jim’s steady habits refute the philosopher Heraclitus,
Who believed all things are in constant flux.
In the 5th Century he wrote with ancient quill,
That human nature and affairs never stand still.
Yet Jim’s behavior makes that old Greek the fool.
Or perhaps Jim’s the exception that proves the rule.
For I earnestly suggest since the year ‘39
Jim has not changed much in all that time!
Not to say it about Jim would be a real pity,
Now that I’ve finally finished this ditty.
(Sure, a fence or two we’ve had to mend.)
Still, for me, there’s really no better a friend.