Dear all,
 
We interrupt this discussion of the rare and beautiful Fulton's Cowrie to
bring some entertainment of a different sort.  (hanks, Paul M., for
pointing out that Cyp. teuleri is a poor, toothless imitation of the
incomparable fultoni!)
 
Seems we can't get away from poetry.  Almost a decade ago Supersheller Gene
Everson waxed poetic and created an shelling "epic"  of sorts, which light
he has been hiding under that well known bushel.   Since I refuse to
publish modern poetry in American Conchologist  and Gene is too much of a
wus to get himself online, he has unashamedly wangled me into forwarding it
for him.  With the opening of the 1999 Shell Show Season at Astronaut Trail
this weekend, now seems like a good time to put an end to his pestering and
fulfill his lifelong dream of becoming a  "published" poet.
 
 Send your comments to Gene at 500 Nottingham Parkway, Louisville, KY
40222, see him at this weekend's Astronaut Trail Shell Show where he hopes
to capture all the trophies, or deliver them to him in person in June at
the COA Convention in Louisville where he'll be Convention Chairman.
(Telling him what you think of his magnum opus will be just one of the many
pleasures you'll experience here!   Make your reservations now at the Galt
House on the River in Louisville!  June 27-July 1, 1999!  Lowest hotel
rates in many years!)  ( End of Commercial by your sponsors, The
Conchologists of America)
 
Let me say now that I had no part in anything beyond my signature on this
email.  And that includes punctuation and capitalization, grammar and
spelling.  Yeah, this is the guy Harry Lee and I backed for "Best Sheller"
just a few weeks ago.  You never know!   <GRIN!>
 
Lynn Scheu
Louisville, KY
 
************************************************************
 
"A possible shell trip to Sipadan Island, Borneo is forthcoming and the
anticipation of an avid sheller takes over an even more vivid imagination."
 --Supersheller, 1990
 
HI HO, HI HO, IT'S OFF TO BORNEO
 
Between the Indian and Pacific
Shelling there should be terrific.
 
It's so remote, forget the boat
It takes 3 days to go one way
And that's by jet, I hate to say
 
We sleep in tents
Like we have good sense
Under mosquito nets we lie
Trying to hide from the Tse Tse fly
 
While the cannibals are hiding in the trees
We're down shelling on our knees
We look for strombs
While they beat tomtoms
 
We search at night
With our dive light
We swim down walls
Where the rare shells crawl (replacement  for censored line)
 
Dodge the sharks
Don't give a hoot
We gotta find a rare volute.
In the sand we look for trails
of those nocturnal marine snails.
 
Collecting under a big full moon
We found some miters in the lagoon
Sometimes, for all our toil & troubles
We only find a few dumb bubbles.
 
But once we determine the habitat
Look out, shells! We know where you're at.
Under rocks some mollusks hide
but they'll still get a 3 day ride
 
They'll die not knowing pain at all
Just one last high in alcohol
Our shells will be nice and clean
After abath in pure clorine.
Some get heated to a boil
And some get brushed with baby oil
 
Tucker's book will give tem fame
For that is where they'll find their name.
Now we head for our shell room table
So we can type our shell show label
 
We stay up late to load the car
And in the morning we'll travel far
We'll find the mall or shell show hall
And lug in cases one & all
 
We lintpick backgrounds & polish glass
Being careful & working fast.
Our competition peeks real quick
And we hope our shells make his look sick.
 
We know a trophy we will find
Unless the judges are senile & blind
We wera our best to the judge's dinner
Hoping to be announced the winner.
 
But there is not much time to gloat,
For fear of missing the proverbial boat.
To the dealer's tables we move apace
So we don't finish last in next year's race.
 
The shells that always catch our eye
Are those whose price tags are too high.
Beware of synonyms & filed lips
And never forget those data slips.
 
Before these shells are catalogued
We're thinking about getting waterlogged.
Our next trip will be the best,
Our skill & luck again we'll test.
 
We'll spend a week working off our butts,
But our spouses only think we're nuts.
                                          -- Gene D. Everson, 1990