This was fun to write and took me a while to create. Found a cache on Thanksgiving morning and wanted a nice long log to match the coolness of the cache.
Poe's "The Raven" (sorta)
Once upon a morning chilly, while I woke up weird and silly,
Over many a trill and too loud volume, heard my alarm bell,
While I lay there, nearly sinking back to sleep, I started thinking,
As of some one gently sending, sending e-mail to my Dell.
`'Tis some dumb spammer,' I muttered, `sending e-mail to my Dell -
Bet he has a spot in hell’
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak November,
And each separate noisy youngster’s stomp heard in my bedroom cell.
Eagerly I wished for quiet; - sadly they began to riot
I controlled their breakfast diet – diet full of yummy smell -
For the rare and seldom cooking I do with no sense of smell -
I was up so what the hell.
And the children were uncertain, for each other they were hurtin’
Pained me – drained me as my patience level quickly it did fell;
So that now, to still the crying in the room, I kept replying
`'Maybe we can watch videos I downloaded on my Dell -
Some really funny videos I downloaded on my Dell; -
Please say yes and end this hell'
Presently my soul grew weaker as I saw fly by a sneaker
`Lord,' said I, ‘I humbly ask thee,’ as my tears began to swell
And the fact is I was praying as my sanity was swaying,
And so faintly came the saying, saying coming from my Dell,
That I scarce was sure I heard it' – I had e-mail on my Dell; -
Save me from this gloomy hell.
Deep into that e-mail peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming caches no mortal ever found or logged to tell;
But of found logs, none were spoken, and my solitude was broken,
And the only word, a token, was the whispered phrase, `Oh well!'
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Oh, well!'
First to find try? What the hell!
Back into the bedroom searching, toward my GPS was lurching,
Soon again I heard a beeping somewhat louder than a bell.
`Surely,' said I, `surely that is something to help me FTF;
Let me see then, where’s my jacket with the polyester shell –
Let me stay warm in my jacket with the polyester shell; -
For this wind, it feels like hell!'
Then my car, I got it going, and soon my GPS was showing
Where the cache it was awaiting, futures soon it would foretell.
Had to drive for half an hour; didn’t even stop to shower;
But I knew I had the coords that were sent straight to my Dell -
Perched upon my dusty dashboard, numbers copied from my Dell -
Hit the gas and drove like hell.
But my confidence, it was waning and my neck was to craning
to see if in the parking lot would I have to run pell-mell,
`Down a trail I started walking for I heard no voices talking
So at running I was balking, hoping luck would soon dispel -
That I always DNF, a trend I needed to dispel!'
Got to GZ, `What the hell?!'
Much I wandered and meandered, the cache owner’s name I slandered,
For the first stage it was hiding and I so wanted to yell;
For I could not seem to find it but then I was soon reminded
How could I have been so blinded! Checked the info from my Dell -
Now I knew who hid the blasted cache, its data on my Dell,
Text the CO? What the hell?
Coolcamaro, they took mercy on this poor kid from New Jersey
Got a hint and off I went, yes from that spot I did propel.
Moments later then I uttered – then I coughed and then I sputtered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered `All my senses do rebel! -
I already … no … I checked there, yes, my brain, it does rebel.'
How’d I miss that? What the hell?!
Standing in the stillness shaken, now some tools I had now taken,
`Doubtless,' said I, `this, my blunder, I do not wish to retell.
Now ‘twas time to resume hunting but this soon just lead to grunting
Because I was now confronting failure, I could not excel -
Over two years I’ve been caching and yet I still can’t excel
I am stuck in caching hell.
Round and round, I nearly went mad because I thought that I’d been had,
I had walked many circles around stage one like a gazelle;
On a stupid plan I’d set, I just knew that I would get
To quickly find stage two and yet my plan was doomed to never gel -
It was clear and likely, had to work, and yet it would never gel
Epic fail, yep! What the hell?!’
Then I roamed engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
How this cache, it kept confounding, sparing not a sole brain cell;
I would cease all my pretexting and soon I was back to texting
On the phone with Coolcamaro just like Alexander Bell,
And they said they’d come to help me, the poor man’s Alexander Bell
Geez, where is it? What the hell?!
Then, methought, my brain grew clearer as the cache owners got nearer
Maybe I had just not peeked in a certain spot very well.
`Damn,' I cried, `I see the log there – it seemed I’d always known just where
the log – the log, its hiding spot, Oh now I’d have to tell!
With Coolcamaro on the way, My goof I’d now have to tell!'
They would surely give me hell.
`Dammit!' said I, `it was frozen! – This I should have been supposin’ -
For I am an Ivy Leaguer; went to Princeton, not Cornell
FTF yet like a newbie, I knew I deserved a booby
Prize – Oh surely this would not do be-cause on this I would not dwell -
Are there - are there ways to forget? – On this, I do not wish to dwell!'
Trapped inside my mental hell.
`Dammit!' said I, `it was frozen! – This I should have been supposin’ -
The cache owners, they quick approached me – but my sadness did compel -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, with confidence a-fadin,
That their trip, that they had made in minutes, it would all end well -
With two grins and nodding motions, they forgave me. All was well?'
Yet they still asked, “what the hell?”
`Told them both before departing of my deeds before just starting
To go look for yet another cache as serendipity befell!
In the lot was a GRC, barely more than an LPC
But now I could rest easily – as I wished the two farewell
Soon I was back in my car, my morn, it seems it did fare well!'
Call from my wife: “What the hell!”
’Twas Thanksgiving, and she waited, not elated, not elated
with my dalliance but now I sit here in front of my Dell;
And today, there’s no more caching or, my wife, she’ll be a-bashing,
And the scary verbal lashing, worse than a grenade’s shrapnel;
And I don’t know if I’d survive that cacophonous shrapnel
Risk her ire? What the hell?
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