Let us consider Ogden Nash, the poet of the sprinter’s dash. In his versifying days, he welded words in winning ways. He wrote funny. He wrote short. That form, some feel, today is, mort. All right, we can’t top Ogden Nash.
Who could beat the man who advised, “If called by a panther, don’t anther”? The poet who opined, “I don’t mind eels. Except as meals.” The sage stylist who offered, “Reflections on ice-breaking: Candy is dandy. But liquor is quicker.”
Nash, who was born a century ago this month, gloried at being, in his words, a “good bad poet,” eagerly, wryly taking in and taking on “the minor idiocies of humanity.” His genius was in his punning, his patter, his urbane, humane wit, and his almost crazed affection for the language.
Guests:
Linell Nash Smith, daughter of Ogden Nash
Billy Collins, Poet Laureate of the United States
Douglas Parker, Nash biographer