Thank you, Andy and Lynn, for including me in your porcine tribute to Art.
I feel honored.
 
Sylvia
 
-----Original Message-----
From: Lynn Scheu <[log in to unmask]>
To: [log in to unmask] <[log in to unmask]>
Date: Wednesday, December 23, 1998 5:24 PM
Subject: [CONCH-L] Attack of the Flying Pigs, or Season's Greetings from
Porcopolis
 
 
>THE NIGHT BEFORE PORCMAS,
>or A Visit from Art Weil
>
>'Twas the night before Porcmas, and all through Conchland
>No computers were humming, there twitched not a hand.
>Muricids were hung on the hall tree with care
>And volutids and mitrids and turrids were there.
>The piglets slept, nestled all snug in their stys,
>With visions of nerites and Cypraeidaes:
>Bobbi, Guido, and Dan Yoshimoto,
>Carol and David and raffish Eduardo,
>Patty and ferreter, Sylvia and Harry,
>Marlo, Emilio, Kevin and Gary
>(Really too many to enumerate,
>Last count was three hundred seventy-eight!)
>And all of them still as they lay in the straw
>Snorting softly and drooling from sleep-gaping maw,
>When, what did I hear? That squeal was too loud
>To come from the Conchlers in my little crowd!
>I rushed to the window, tripping over a clam,
>Alert as a prisoner out on the lam,
>Threw open the louvers, picked my jaw off the floor,
>And vowed that I would drink eggnog no more.
>Full moon on the ice of the frozen Ohio
>Gave Porcville the luster of an endangered Unio.
>And out in my yard, well lit by porch light,
>Was Mr. Art Weil--and a really strange sight!
>(I rubbed my eyes twice, but still it was there)
>A museum cabinet hitched to flying porcdeer.
>Leaping like cockles those porcdeer they came
>As he snuffled and sputtered and called them by name:
>"Now Pork Chop, now Piggie, now Spare Rib and Cracklin.
>On Banger, on Bacon, on Headcheese and Chitlin!
>To the top of the roof, to the top of the mall,
>Now fry away, fry away, fry away all!"
>As coquinas before the turning tide swim
>Then meet with a wave and just hunker in,
>So deep in the snow the porcdeer all snuggled.
>While to open his cabinet Art gave quite a struggle,
>Then willy-nilly, he flung shells into his pack.
>As I slammed the louvers and staggered back,
>Down the chimney I heard him come with a crash,
>His whiskers they ignited in a right merry flash!
>Dressed in tacky red corduroy from his head to his foot,
>He tracked the rug o'er with ashes and soot.
>His head how it twinkled, his eyes they were beady.
>The fake fur round his middle was ever so seedy.
>His pockets all stuffed with good Porcmas cookies,
>Art looked less like an elf than an overdressed wookie!
>He hummed offkey through his shiny red nose;
>"Silver Shells" was the Porcmas carol he chose.
>"Shh," he said archly. "The Museum won't know
>If nobody tells where these specimens go."
>And he filled all the stockings of all the collectors
>With what you might call museum-drawer defectors.
>In Paul Drez's stocking some Amaldas Art dropped,
>E. Power's rare ligs went in with a plop!
>Bob Lipe, a good boy, did Margin shells win,
>While for Charlie a clapping of pectens Sturmed in,
>Vitrinella for Gunderson, world records for Hutsell,
>Land snails for Nisters; for DWills, some rare mussels.
>Doug Shelton got NICE snails from Alabam's shelf,!
>But Old Art kept the wentletraps back for himself.
>Bag empty, he stretched himself out on the couch,
>Munched cookies, and napped and then woke from his slouch.
>One terebra was left in the bag; he said, "Shell!
>I'll give it to dealer Paul Monfils to sell."
>Then rubbing a finger atop his bald head,
>He gave me to know I had nothing to dread!
>Art noticed the fire blazing bright 'cross my floor,
>So he turned and departed straight through my front door.
>He jumped on his cabinet, sent his porkers a squeal,
>And home they all flew for a post-Porcmas meal.
>Every brave little pigdeer then filled up its belly
>With baked beans and coleslaw, applesauce and mint jelly,
>While Art smacked his lips on a Porcmas confection
>And said, "What would YOU do with an orphaned collection?
>I may not be great shakes as a Conch-L poet,
>But when I sees a good shell, I knows just where to stow it!
>I think I've done what is good and is right!
>Merry Porcmas to all, and to all a good night!"
>
>--Andy Rindsberg and Lynn Scheu
>