Stretch Armstrong

The background story...

My friend David Scurr, now deceased, was doing a late night radio show. He was obsessed at the time with the popular "Stretch Armstrong" action figure, and intrigued by the recent recall of some talking Barbies. It seems that a major backlash ensued because the Barbies squeaked out the phrase, "Math is Tough". Personally, I am with Barbie for that one, never thought I'd agree with her, but I digress...

He asked me to write a poem that incorporated both elements. I did, and so I give you...

Stretch Armstrong

It was a-typical Saturday, bout quarter to one,
I ate at McDonalds and when I was done
I fed my pet rock, pushed aside Rubik's cube,
kicked off my Keds, and turned on the tube.

Between the cartoons, I managed to find
the perfect companion; the flexible kind
of man that I kneaded and he went for a song.
Stretch was his first name, last one, Armstrong.

The price I had paid for my fatal attraction
was under ten bucks for my figure of action.
I became a Madonna to a willing boy toy
with no need to be charming, dis-arming or coy!

Willing and able to fill all my kneads,
in the palm of my hand, that man indeed
took manipulation well. There was no cause to beg,
to twist his right arm, bend his ear, pull his leg.

He stopped listening one day to all my demands
so I bit off his head, buried it in the sand
went back to normal, played Barbie and then,
cleaned up, redressed and married a Ken.

His trademark impressed me, what can I say?
I'm shallow, a yuppie, I am to this day
obsessed with the toys, but life ain't so ruff
At least men are easy even though Math is Tuff!

Quasimodem

Have you ever had someone who believed in you so much, and left you...

believing?

I miss you David

In other postings I will include illustrations that David created for my poems. He had given them to me on air, on my birthday. He was a great supporter of anything I would write, not unlike Anne De Haas, the photographer with a link on this site. The illustration of the red dress is one of his much cherished cartoons he created for me. Funny thing is, he rendered the picture just as the red dress exists, and he had never seen it.

Funny that the two poems I wrote for David don't have an illustration associated with them. The poem I wrote specifically about David and thanking him for his support in my life, is lost. I don't know where I put it.

Maybe it's with him.

...and this concludes our Maudlin Moment, stop in every twenty-eight days for subsequent installments.

Quasimodem