My Dad’s favorite poet was Anon, a prolific scribbler. Here’s one he collected, probably in the 1950s:
Don’tcha worry, honey chile,
Don’tcha cry no more.
It’s just a little ol’ atom bomb
In a little ol’ limited war.
It’s just a bitsy warhead, chile,
With a little ol’ tactical shell.
And all it’s gonna do is blow us all
To a little ol’ limited hell.
–Anon
This was written in response to one or another psychotic government employees who happily discussed the idea of a limited nuclear war.
Here’s another Uncle Lubert story, actually two related stories showing Lubert’s practicality.
Uncle Lubert gave his nephews some lumber and told them to build an outhouse. They worked away at it but came up short – not enough lumber to build the last piece, the door. They said “Uncle Lubert! We don’t have enough wood to build a door for the outhouse!” Lubert said, “Turn ‘er toward the view, boys, turn ‘er toward the view.”
The related story: Uncle Lubert gave the boys an old car to use as a field car, to get around the farm. The farm was hilly and covered with trees. The boys drove off happily, but returned to Uncle Lubert several minutes later. “Uncle Lubert, this car has no brakes! How are we supposed to stop it!” Uncle Lubert said “Aim ‘er for a tree boys, aim ‘er for a tree!”