Once Again, Ogden Nash

The image above is a watercolor done by Tom McNeely and the subject is Ogden Nash and one of his witty rhymes, The Fly.

Nash and his whimsical offerings are a frequent topic of mine. I use his poems to escape old age, diabetes, and such.

When asked where he lived, his answer was "I could have loved New York, had I not loved Balti-more."

So here's Nash's thoughts that may help anyone out there who is traveling abroad or staying home:

Goody for Our Side and Your Side Too

Foreigners are people somewhere else,

Natives are people at home;

If the place you’re at

Is your habitat,

You’re a foreigner, say in Rome.

But the scales of Justice balance true,

And tit leads into tat,

So the man who’s at home

When he stays in Rome

Is abroad when he’s where you’re at.

When we leave the limits of the land in which

Our birth certificates sat us,

It does not mean

Just a change of scene,

But also a change of status.

The Frenchman with his fetching beard,

The Scot with his kilt and sporran,

One moment he

May a native be,

And the next may find him foreign.

There’s many a difference quickly found

Between the different races,

But the only essential

Differential

Is living different places.

Yet such is the pride of prideful man,

From Austrians to Australians,

That wherever he is,

He regards as his,

And the natives there, as aliens.

Oh, I’ll be friends if you’ll be friends,

The foreigner tells the native,

And we’ll work together for our common ends

Like a preposition and a dative.

If our common ends seem mostly mine,

Why not, you ignorant foreigner?

And the native replies

Contrariwise;

And hence, my dears, the coroner.

So mind your manners when a native, please,

And doubly when you visit

And between us all

A rapport may fall

Ecstatically exquisite.

One simple thought, if you have it pat,

Will eliminate the coroner:

You may be a native in your habitat,

But to foreigners you’re just a foreigner.