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Letter to the editor

Oh little state of Flor-i-da, how odd you make our life

By HOWARD TROXLER
Published December 23, 2004

JEB BUSH, WE HAVE HEARD ON HIGH

Jeb Bush we have heard on high

Overrule the vote gone by.

High-speed rail and class size too,

He knows better than you do.

Re-e-ee-ee-ee, re-e-ee-ee-ee,

Re-e-ee-ee-ee, re-ee-peal!

Obey the gov's direction!

Re-e-ee-ee-ee, re-e-ee-ee-ee,

Re-e-ee-ee-ee, re-ee-peal!

He'll call a new elec-ec-tion.

("Up on the Housetop")

Up on the Crosstown, what the heck,

Let's drive on the upper deck

Wait just a minute, what's that shake?

May-be Adamo Drive we'll take!

Ho, ho, ho, who wouldn't go?

Ho, ho, ho, who wouldn't go?

If alive we Tampa reach,

Let's go next to Clearwater Beach!

("O Tannenbaum")

Oh, Vince Naimoli, oh, Vince Naimoli,

No bigger cheapskate than thee.

Oh, Vince Naimoli, oh, Vince Naimoli,

Your payroll shames Jack Benny.

Your GM claims the future's nigh

But if you sell Huff, it's all a lie,

Oh, Vince Naimoli, oh, Vince Naimoli,

When will the new guy dump thee?

("Little Drummer Boy")

Build, they told me,

pa-pump-pa-pump-pump,

One-forty mil they said,

pa-pump-pa-pump-pump,

Now it won't work, they said,

we still must pump,

Wells dry in Pas-co but we'll

pump-pump-pump-pump,

pump-pump-pump-pump,

pump-pump-pump-pump,

While more dollars we dump.

("The Holly and the Ivy")

Oh, the mayor and the museum

In Tampa town must be,

Of all the standoffs she pursues

This one most stubbornly.

No aquariums nor new Centros

On her watch will she a-bide,

She will hold back city money

Critics' true thoughts they must hide.

O come, all ye airport travelers,

Come, but don't try parking,

Come, stand in line with us

To be str-i-i-p searched.

Wait, your flight is de-layed,

Your kids are high on sugar,

Come let us break your luggage

And be pawed by TSA muggers,

And catch the latest bug, it's

All that's in the air.

Rick Baker came in the midnight clear

Sneaked off with another big chunk

Of coun-ty taxpayers, oh so dear

To county commiss'ners, it stunk.

But how Rick smiles so angelic'ly,

When he needs county help for his plans,

"We're on the sa-me team,"

he then sniffs,

"Your ill will I don't understand."

God rest ye merry, absentees,

Lost along the way,

A shoebox here, a few more there,

Found post-Election Day,

Though Deb'ra Clark apologizes

Too late to count, they say,

Plus wrong ti-dings of how

the vote came out,

how it came out,

Reversed ti-i-dings of how

the vote came out.

We wish there were five more Bucs wins,

We wish they would care when flags spin,

We wish they would play 'til game's end,

Coach - please fix this next year!

[Last modified December 23, 2004, 05:07:08]