I've deleted multiple sentences about Lima Time here... I'm not fully comfortable talking about someone who I don't actually know at all. Still... I couldn't help but think of Lima as a guy who lived life as a celebration, or at least appeared to. I hate schmaltz and bathos and sportswriting that tries to talk about bigger issues, so I'm going to cut myself off before I start.
This poem is from a sequence by Kingsley Amis called "The Evans Country". Basically, Evans is a modern day Don Juan, only he's living in Wales. Thinking about Lima today, I thought of this poem from that sequence. I don't want to imply a rote connection to Lima as a rake, but rather how his life seemed from the outside, and how we feel at his death. (The poems in the sequence are titled after locations, which is what I think Fforestfawr is.)
When they saw off Dai Evans's da
The whole thing was done very nice:
Bethesda was packed to the doors,
And the minister, Urien Price,
Addressed them with telling effect.
'Our brother grew rich in respect,'
He told them in accents of fire;
'A man of unshakable strength,
Whom to know was at once to admire.
He did nothing common or mean.'
They'd no notion of coming between
That poor young Dai and his grief,
So each of them just had a word
With him after, well-chosen and brief:
'I looked up to him, boy' sort of touch.
He thanked one and all very much,
But thought, as he waved them goodbye,
Was respect going to be what they felt
When Bethesda did honour to Dai?
No, something more personal, see?
'Hallo, pet. Alone? Good. It's me.
Ah now, who did you think it was?
Well, come down the Bush and find out.
You'll know me easy, because
I'm wearing a black tie, love.'
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