Hey, Griddle, Griddle!
Hey, Griddle, Griddle!
Twilight Art and Book Publishers 2011
HEY, GRIDDLE, GRIDDLE!
A Twilight Art and Book Publishers Book PUBLISHING HISTORY
Twilight Art and Book Publishers First Printing Kindle eBook Edition Published 2011 Second Printing Trade Paperback Edition Published 2011 Published by Twilight Art and Book Publishers Addison, IL 60101 All Rights Reserved Copyright Š 2010 by Jay J. Kaylin Written and Illustrated by JKaylin Cover Illustration, Design, and Book Design by JKaylin No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, printing, or otherwise, except as permitted under Sections 107 or 108 of the 1976 United States Copyright Act, without either the prior written permission of the Publisher or Author. Requests to the Publisher or Author for permission should be addressed to: Twilight Art and Book Publishers, Addison, IL 60101, e-mail: twsales@jkaylin.com, Phone: (630) 780-2454.
ISBN-13: 978-0-9799558-8-4
Printed in The United States of America Twilight Art and Book Publishers www.jkaylin.com
“For every evil under the sun there is a remedy or there is none. If there be one, seek till you find it; If there be none, never mind it.� -The Real Mother Goose
“Hey, diddle, diddle! The cat and the fiddle, The cow jumped over the moon; The little dog laughed to see such sport, and the dish ran away with the spoon.” -The Real Mother Goose
This book is dedicated to Good Orderly Direction, and to my Mother and Father. And is . . .. .
For Everyone
Table of Contents Food Fight . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15 The Way Things Are . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 16 Zam Zoodle Oop Boop Soup . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 18-19 Gore Demore’s Deplorable Store . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 20-21 Mix It Up, and Blend It Well . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 22-23 Ten Foot Jelly Bean . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 24-25 Grundy Bolishes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 26-27 People Say It Can’t Be Done! . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 28 Sink or Swim . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 29 I’m a Success . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 30 I’m A Runner; I’m A Jumper . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 31 Faces . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 32-33 Poem . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 34-35 The Ants Go Marching . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 36-37 Hickory Snickory Clock . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 38 Summertime . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 39 The Weeps . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 40 Johnny . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 41 A Boy and His Trusted Goat . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 42-43 Doug Dug the Rug . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 44-45 Tickle Me . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 46 Nancy Pipkin . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 47 The Boy From Med . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 48-49 A Boy Named Bernard . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 50 Lucky Pete Struck . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 51 Electric Bill . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 52 Reckless Larry . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 53 Foolish Sarah Jean . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 54-55 Little Wally Whittle . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 56-57
King Linky Doo . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 58-59 Sylvia Jean Stout . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 60-61 Petty Pox . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 62-63 Kathy Loofy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 64 Trumuchulus Licorice . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 65 The Swilly Swarps . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 66-67 The Feeble Fobble Mottle Not . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 68 Oh to Joe The Toad on My Toe . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 69 A Dream . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 70-71 Willy Wuzzard and The Buzzard . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 72-73 Do Dunner . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 74-75 Albert Von Lookie . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 76-77 The Oogly Mooglies Are Coming . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 78-79 Hey, Griddle, Griddle! . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 80-81
Food Fight The eggs planted flowers; Around the cottage cheese, As the black eyed peas, And the eyes of the potato watched. The lettuce was ready to turn a new leaf, When the ginger snapped. And the chocolate dipped, And the potato chipped, As the pancake flipped, Over the ears of the corn, That were listening to the toast The toast was making To them all. Then the lemon dropped Right off its chair! As a banana peeled away Because the ice screamed Watching as the potato Got whipped In a mash by those awful Little deviled eggs.
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The Way Things Are Why! Why! Why! Can’t a nose be called an eye? Hear. Hear. Hear. Can’t a mouth be called an ear? Tell me! Tell me! Tell me! Can’t a head be called a knee? Listen. Listen. Listen. Can’t a shin be called a chin? Look! Look! Look! Can’t a hand be called a foot? Then if this were all so, Would a finger be a toe? Would seeing be smelling? Would hearing be yelling? Would thinking be kneeling? Would handling be footing? Would we get a sniffle in our eye? And blink with our noses? Would our ear muffs Be called our mouth muffs? Would two chins hold up two socks?
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And when we ate Would we dribble on a bib Placed under our shin? Would we wear a hat on our knee And kneel on our heads? Would we clap with our feet? Would we wave good-bye with a foot? And (oh dear) play piano with our toes? But now as I stand here, With an ear waxy grin, Just twittling my toes, And blinking my noses, Just thinking about it; I really have no doubts about it, That this would be Much too bizarre! And I really do like Some things, at least, Just the way they are. Page 19
Zam Zoodle Oop Boop Soup Zam Zoodle Oop Boop Soup Is a soup that is very rare. Most people don’t care For Zam Zoodle Oop Boop Soup. But it is a soup with which No one can compare To any other Good Oop Soup That is so rare. But it’s a very simple recipe. And as I tell you, you will see How simple it all will be. To make Zam Zoodle Oop Boop Soup: Add some Zoodles and some Zams, And if you don’t add a horse You will be on the right course! Then add a lot of Boop. And be very careful not to add Too much Oop. For if you add too much Oop; To your Zam Zoodle Oop Boop Soup, You’ll end up oopsing Here and there and everywhere. Page 20
And I will tell you now, Not to add sheep, a goat, or a cow. But anyway since you’re done now, Heat it up, and make it very hot; For Zam Zoodle Oop Boop Soup When served cold is simply snot. Then serve it up in a dish, And blow on it, If you wish, To cool it to taste. Then put it into the mouth That is right upon your face.
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Gore Demore’s Deplorable Store You can always get more At Gore Demore’s Deplorable Store; Such as boxes and boxes and boxes Of blood and guts and gore, With always fifty percent more. You can buy teeth and bones and fingernails, Matted ratted dirty old hair, Soapy soup, moldy baloney, And slimy green macaroni, Rancid rice, rabid rabbits, rotting rats, And three blind dead mice. You’ll never find anything nice, At Gore Demore’s Deplorable Store. Just always fifty percent more, Of all the things that’ll make you scream, And it is the perfect place to go Shopping for Halloween.
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GORE DEMORE’S DEPLORABLE STORE
ALWAYS OPEN ALWAYS
50% MORE
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Mix It Up, and Blend It Well Pickle juice, Turnip greens, Add a lot of ice cream. Chocolate malt, Celery stalks, Add a little hot sauce. Sugar, eggs, bacon fried, Over the onions Please do not cry; Bananas, apples, And oranges too! Then add a bit of Last night’s stew. Add some lemon, And some salmon, And don’t forget The tuna fish. Sour cream, Cottage cheese, Salt to taste, Pepper light, Be careful Not to sneeze! Page 24
Now tomato paste And then make haste, For in the blender It all goes With a cup of milk. Mix it up, And blend it well, Make it as smooth as silk. Now I’ll pour a glass, And I think I’ll pass It to you to take The first taste. And please do not make That awful face.
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Ten Foot Jelly Bean There’s at 10 ft. jellybean in my hall And no, no, no, I don’t like it there at all. I can’t go over it Because it’s too tall, And 1 can’t get around it Because it reaches from wall to wall And under it I cannot crawl. There’s at 10 ft. jellybean in my hall And no, no, no, I don’t like it there at all. I tried to pry it away with the broom And still it remains Right in front of my room. So I went to the kitchen And got a very large spoon And now I might not sleep for a week Because through it I must eat!
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Grundy Bolishes Grundy Bolishes Never did the dishes. Piled high in Grundy’s sink Were things that stunk And things that stinked. There were glasses and mugs and jugs, Plates and knifes and flinks, Flunks and junk, Loons and stoons and spoons. There were spongy macaronis, Green crusts of bread, And something that Definitely looked dead. The dishes were piled high to the ceiling; They covered the furniture; And they covered the floor. Then one day, They walked right out the door! The dishes went into the yard And into the street, And Grundy Bolishes - remember Grundy? Well, he never claimed to be neat. Page 28
But the neighbors, they did complain And they did yell About all the yickity yuk That they did smell; So they went to find Grundy. But Grundy was hidden So far below the mound That he was never to escape, Nor was he ever found. So if you ever have Some dishes to wash Just remember Grundy, And how he got lost.
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People Say It Can’t Be Done! People say it can’t be done. People say I’m too old or I am too young. People say it is way too hard. People say never play your last card. People say my songs will never be sung, And some races are just too long to be won. People will tell you all sorts of things But when I try, I find That people are sometimes wrong And that the close to impossible Can sometimes be done!
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Sink or Swim If you’re in a boat stay afloat But if you’d rather sink or swim Dive in.
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I’m a Success I’m I’m I’m I’m
a a a a
success, I’m a success! success, I must confess; success, I’m a success! success at doing my best.
I’m a success, I’m a success! And yes, I must confess; I’m a success, I’m a success! I’m a success at doing my best. What about you? Are you a success too? All you have to do Is simply do your best And don’t worry About all the rest!
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I’m A Runner; I’m A Jumper I’m a runner; I’m a jumper; I’m a thumper of floors; I run though the house, And I slam all the doors; I try not to think much about Doing any chores, And I hope that you love me ‘Cause I’m all yours. I know sometimes I must drive you crazy If I am watchng TV to loud Or in your way being lazy. But I will always listen to you, Well... just maybe. I’m a child, I’m a child, And I do it the best that I can, And I will always be a child For as long as I am. Page 33
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Faces I have many pictures of you in my head; Some are happy, and some are sad, Some are glad, and some are mad, Some make me laugh, Some make me gasp... But the face I like the best, The one I think is far better than the rest, Is the one of you where you look at me And in your eyes it is only love that I see.
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Poem I know this sounds quite absurd, But deep inside me something stirred, And when I found I had no doubt, Of these poems that were trying to get out, I wrote these words to write them in.
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The Ants Go Marching The ants go marching Hurrah! Hurrah! The ants go marching Hurrah! Hurrah! The ants go marching Hurrah! Hurrah! The ants go marching And stop.
one-by-one. one-by-one. one-by-one. -
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Hickory Snickory Clock Hickory snickory dock, The mouse ran up clock. The clock struck one, And the mouse Set its watch.
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Summertime Summer for me is the best. Winter is up for debate. I find it much easier to sweat Then I do to shake.
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The Weeps The Weeps are fast and free. They run up my walls, And down my halls, Hurrying and scurrying, On their way. They chew on chalk, And chatter and cheap, And when I am fast asleep, The Weeps, well they Tickle my feet!
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Johnny Johnny got up one morning, And right in the middle of his room, There was a bear eating a pear. So Johnny asked him, “How do you do?” The bear got scared And dropped the pear And flew out of the room. And that, my friend, Is the end Of this very silly tune For everyone knows Bears can’t fly.
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A Boy and His Trusted Goat This is a poem that I wrote, About a boy and his trusted goat Who sailed to England in a glass boat. To see a wise a grand old elf And if you want anymore Go write it yourself.
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te d Donay B ll i E. B
CO U
SIN T R E A S UR E
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G RU N DY’S
M AP
Doug Dug the Rug There once was a boy named Doug Who thought there was gold in his rug So he got his shovel Went into his hovel And this is where Doug dug.
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Tickle Me Tickle me for a week, Tickle my feet, Tickle my nose, Tickle my toes, Tickle me here, Tickle me under there, Tickle my hair, Tickle me everywhere. But do not ever Tickle me there . . . Or - I’ll laugh!
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Nancy Pipkin Nancy Pipkin almost got a lickin’, One Sunday afternoon ‘Cause Nancy Pipkin Used 29 rolls of toilet paper Just to decorate her bedroom.
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The Boy From Med There once was a bad tempered boy from Med Who kept an ice pack on his head. When asked why he did it He simply refused to admit: It was because he was hot-headed!
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A Boy Named Bernard There once was a young boy named Bernard, Who thought there were stars in his yard. But his mother, ever so wise, Said that they were only fireflies.
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Lucky Pete Struck Here lies lucky Pete Struck, Who ran out of his luck. When one day last week He crossed the street, And was struck by a truck.
DO
’s
S ’ T
N O
D
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Electric Bill There once was a man named Bill Who never paid his electric bill. Now he’s happy as a lark, Sitting in the dark, Because he hasn’t paid it still!
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Reckless Larry Reckless Reckless Reckless Reckless
Larry Larry Larry Larry
was driving a car; didn’t get very far; drove into a bus; - he drove straight into us!
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Foolish Sarah Jean Foolish Sarah Jean Is washing herself In the washing machine. When she comes out, She’ll be cleaner and whiter, And this time I hope A whole lot brighter.
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Little Wally Whittle Little Wally Wittle Whittled a little fiddle. He whittled and whittled and whittled. Now Little Wally Wittle, Plays very little On his little whittled fiddle. Because Little Wally Wittle’s Little whittled fiddle Has become too little to be -Fiddled with.
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King Linky Doo King Linky Doo Held his breath Until his cheeks turned blue. And his eyes turned red And were almost ready to pop Right out of his head. Now no one felt the least bit mad, And no one felt the least bit sad, Because King Linky Doo’s breathe Smelled very bad.
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Sylvia Jean Stout Sylvia Jean Stout Kept her hands over her ears, And she hardly ever opened her mouth; She kept her eyes closed; And she wore a plug on her nose. Because Sylvia Jean Stout Had so many wonderful thoughts That she was afraid that they might leak out.
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Petty Pox Petty Pox went to school Riding upon an ox And when the children asked Petty Pox Why she rode to school upon an ox Petty Pox from high up on her ox Would look down at the children As if they’re heads were full of rocks, And say, “I’d ride to school upon an ox Because it is much easier Than riding up on a Fox.”
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Kathy Loofy Kathy Loofy loves her candy taffy; It is sticky and sweet and not very neat And it is definitely her favorite treat. But I think Kathy Loofy is a little goofy, Because she likes to eat it with her feet.
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Trumuchulus Licorice Trumuchulus licorice Is very, very delicious. It never gets old, And it never grows mold; So I’ve buried some In the back yard Way under a tree. I want to see if Trumuchulus licorice Is still just as delicious When I’m one-hundred-and-three.
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The Swilly Swarps I know this sounds silly But one day I saw a Swarp That was swilly. Then I saw another and another And soon there was whole Bunches and bunches of them. Just flying through the air, Swirling and swooping And swurking on their way, Nibbling on peoples noses And tugging on their toeses, Flying in their faces, and pulling On their shoe laces, Tickling their ears And playing in their hair.
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And no one seemed to know or care That these darn things Were just getting everywhere. They were getting in the toaster, the blender, And the car; They got into the TV, the stove, And the pickle jar; They got into the sofa, the beds, the clocks, And the lamps; They got into the computer, the telephone, And the stereo amps. And every time something broke And I tried as I might to have people see It was the swilly swarps and it was not me Yet no one would believe me and no one could see These silly swilly swarps except for my kitten and me!
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The Feeble Fobble Mottle Not Laying on the end of my nose, There’s a Feeble Fobble Mottle Not. He wears a purple bow tie and A bright yellow smock. He has two great big feet and great big toes, And he causes me a great number of woes; Because everytime I try to breathe, It sticks those big toes Right up my nose!
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Oh to Joe The Toad on My Toe Oh, my toad How you have grown; Oh, my toad Joe, Who has come to call, To live atop My one big right toe. I have now let you stay For quite sometime Even without renters pay. I even let your whole family Visit on one toe each. Now you have grown Joe; You have grown To be a very big toad Joe on my right big toe Now please leave, I can’t get my shoe on. Page 71
A Dream Behind the door There was more Of what I had seen The night before. There were purple pinching pigs And several checkered chickens; There were way out wacky wigs Just waving in the wind; There were six splitting blue bananas; And a hundred caramel camels; With a dozen rumpled round red rats Doing a terrible dance. Then just before I could turn my glance, I heard a swish. And I thought I had become feverish. When two fat, furry, frantic fish, Walked up to me And asked, “What did you see?” “Nothing,” I said. I quickly closed the door And went back to bed. Page 72
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Willy Wuzzard and The Buzzard When Willy Wuzzard discovered a buzzard Sitting on his front porch. Willy Wuzzard asked the buzzard, “What might you be doing there?” Then the buzzard said to Willy Wuzzard, “I am just sitting here; And I hope you don’t mind.” “No,” said Willy Wuzzard to the buzzard, “That’s okay, you can stay. That would be just fine.” Then Willy Wuzzard turned from the buzzard, And walked away; leaving neither the buzzard, Nor Willy Wuzzard, with any more to say.
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Do Dunner Do Dunner Diddit did it very well; Do Dunner Diddit did it In the bathtub, And in the well. He did it in the sink, And he did it in the shower, And he did it way up on top Of a high standing tower. He did it in the ocean, And he did it in the lake, And he did it alongside Of a flowing riverbank. He did it when he got up, And he did it when he went to bed, And he even did it one time While he was standing on his head. Do Dunner always thought It was very nice. Do Dunner Diddit Always did it more than twice;
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Do Dunner Diddit Always did it more than twice; Do Dunner Diddit did it Even if it was clean; Do Dunner Diddit did it More than anyone has ever seen. Do Dunner Diddit did it In so many different types of place Do Dunner really just loved To wash his face!
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Albert Von Lookie I’m Albert Von Lookie, And everyone thinks I’m kooky; Because when I grow up I want to be - a cookie!
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The Oogly Mooglies Are Coming The Oogly Mooglies are coming. The Oogly Mooglies are coming. The Oogly Mooglies are coming. They’ll be on the door; They’ll be on the floor; They’ll be on the walls; They’ll be in the halls; The Oogly Mooglies, The Oogly Mooglies, The Oogly Mooglies are coming. They’ll be under your chair; They’ll be in the air; They’ll be on your head; They’ll be under the bed; The Oogly Mooglies, The Oogly Mooglies, The Oogly Mooglies are coming. They’ll be on your glasses; They’ll be in your classes; They’ll be in the park; They’ll be in the dark; Page 80
The Oogly Mooglies, The Oogly Mooglies, The Oogly Mooglies are coming. They’ll be in the glue; They’ll be on your shoe; And no one knows Why they are coming Or what they will do. But the Oogly Mooglies, The Oogly Mooglies, The Oogly Mooglies, Are here!
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Hey, Griddle, Griddle! Hey, griddle, griddle! The hamburger is in the middle; The cheese jumped onto the bun. The little cook laughed To see such a sight, And the pickle shouted, “Hey, it’s done!”
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“It is better to be a good, bad poet than it is to be a bad, good poet..” -Ogden Nash
“This above all: to thine ownself be true. . . . And it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man.” -Shakespeare, “Hamlet,” Act I, Scene III.
About the Author Lombard Spectator Spotlight by Jim Carlosn
“New Seuss on the Loose”
A
ddison writer Jeffery Kalinowski would like to introduce you to the Murgleflurgle-flickity-tickity-tat, the Nutton Glutton, and Nancy Anne Baloo.
These are all characters found in his first published book of children’s poetry, “A Yellow Jellow, What?”. . . . . . Kalinowski, who writes under the pen name of Jay J. Kaylin [and J. Kaylin], . . . also personally laid out the pages, printed the book, designed the cover, and did all the illustrations. Why the pseudonym? “Because my last name is Kalinowski,” he laughs, during a recent phone interview. The first-time author felt he needed a name that would be easier to remember. Looking for something that was catchy, he chose Jay J. Kaylin, which mirrored his own initials. “I may go back to Kalinowski later on down the road but if the name Jay J. Kaylin catches on, why mess with it?” Now 33 [at the time of this writing], he started writing poetry at age 18. Although he had been writing stories since the first grade, he found writing a positive way to deal with his own problems in communication. “I was really withdrawn, and writing was an outlet to express myself,” he admits. A Yellow Jellow Telephone was the first poem written for the book. It was inspired by a word game he played with the Cox children. . . . “Deep down, I always wanted to do something for children but I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to do it.” “That is a scary thought, trying to write for children,” said Kalinowski. . . . “You could definitely say I was inspired by the works of Dr. Seuss when I was little,” said the author, who is also fond of children’s poetry by Shel Silverstein [and also by Jack Prelutsky, and The Real Mother Goose].
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. . . Kalinowski dropped out of high school in 1979 during his senior year at Glenbard East High School when he became seriously involved with drugs and alcohol. . . . Contrary to some literary legends, Kalinowski doesn’t believe his prior drug use helped in any way to influence his creative writing. “As far as Lewis Carroll and Edgar Allan Poe are concerned that drugs heightened their creativity, I didn’t find this to be true [for me].” This dark period of his life came to a head when his father died of cancer in 1984. “It was a very rude awakening when he passed away,” admitted the author. With a new outlook on life, he got help, joined a 12-step program, and already having received his GED from years before, started attending classes at the College of DuPage in Glen Ellyn. . . . All his poetry is rhymed. He doesn’t like the stuff that’s not. He felt that when writing for a children’s audience, he should write rhyming poetry, “I think it’s important,” said the author. Kalinowski sees marketing as his greatest challenge in creating “A Yellow Jellow, What?”. He’s happy with the content and the finished product, but as a one-man operation, he feels challenged in his efforts . . . . . . “What primarily fuels my writing is I would love to make a difference in the world, not only in the lives of children, but in many other people’s lives as well.” “It is very much of struggle for me now. I just hope everything falls together”. . . .
The Lombardian The Inside Story by Marie Olrysh In recent days, I have had the opportunity to speak to two former residents, both of whom have surmounted personal obstacles to reach individual levels of achievement. Here is the “Inside Story” on these two young adults. JEFFERY KALINOWSKI Jeffery Kalinowski has wanted to be a writer ever since he was in grade school and now, after hurdling a few obstacles, the 33-year-old [at the time of this writing] author is on his way. The son of Marion and the late Joseph Kalinowski, Jeffery grew up in Lombard, IL. “I loved to write stories and I had a teacher who encouraged that.”. . . That love of writing began to taper off however. While a student at Glenbard East High School, he found he still enjoyed English and Art classes, but had become bored with the
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others. Personal problems added to the situation and he dropped out during his senior year. “I just didn’t know what I wanted,” he said. But within weeks of his dropping out during his receiving classes’ graduation in 1979, Kalinowski went on to earn his G.E.D. degree and joined the work force. . . . Kalinowski began attending classes at the College of DuPage while holding down a job in the printing industry . . . . . . . Combining his artistic talent and printing skills, he recently wrote, illustrated, designed, laid out the pages, printed, and is now marketing his first book. This small volume of children’s poetry, entitled “A Yellow Jellow, What?” bears the pen name of Jay J. Kaylin, a much more rhythmic and pronounceable nom-de-plume. . . . A writer of “philosophical, spiritual, and strangely funny stuff,” Kalinowski settled on the latter, to pen a book that has been described as a cross between a progressive Dr. Seuss and regressive Shel Silverstein.
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Note from The Author My late father said, “The quality of a man’s work was second to that of putting all he had into it - and not just with his back, mind you - but from deep within the truth about himself.” However, this is not a word for word quote. It is a paraphrase of something very close to what was said, or at the very least, in the way I understood it at the time. I hope you have enjoyed “Hey, Griddle, Griddle!”. It is also my wish of course that you someday buy and enjoy most of my future books. And at best, with all the many great authors and illustrators out there now being made more available, I hope you find with ease and at a good price what you might be looking for in a great book. Thank you for your purchase. And thank you for taking the time to read. Happy hunting and further pleasant reading. J.K.
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Hey, Griddle, Griddle!
Twilight Art and Book Publishers 2011