Anyone who knows me from this blog (it's been awhile) or just about anywhere else would probably be surprised to recognize an Ani DiFranco reference in the title, but they'd be even more surprised to learn that I belong to *gasp* a union.

I am in fact a public school teacher working in a closed shop, which means that they'd take my money one way or another, and as one put it to me, paying the full dues would protect me if I ran a kid over on the way to school one morning. Not that I have any plans to do that, or think that I shouldn't be held liable if I did, even by accident. But there's a lot of added security in not standing out as a non-tenured teacher in a very powerful crowd of unionistas.

I have a very strong financial motive for surrendering my ideals and a portion of my paycheck.

What I will not surrender, however, is my good taste, and I could not stomach this bit of doggerel that made its way to my inbox:

The Jersey Jive

An Election Time Rhyme--For a Good Reason!

Hickory, Dickory Dock
It's time to check your clock
An election is coming
(Ah, the excitement is numbing...)
And to the polls all good citizens flock.

We're not talking about that White House race
This election's about a whole different place
The State House in Trenton
Has candidates here bent on
Calling the Assembly or Senate "home base."

Nov. 6th is the day we will vote
And you can't afford to miss this boat
'Cause the stakes are sky high
It's about the state funding "pie"
And there are plenty of issues to note.

Local property taxes are key
And your pensions and benefits, see
Plus with school vouchers scams
And members' rights slams
The situation's as bad as could be.

So, see your PAC-endorsed candidates here
And let's make one thing quite perfectly clear
To vote absentee
Click this form and do it quickly
For Election Day's really quite near.

And speaking of forms, there's one more
And this one cuts right to the core
Join the Committee of 1000
To show 'em school workers aren't drowzin'
And Election Week watch NJEA ROAR!!!

The form of the limerick, though inappropriate to the message, is not that hard to master.

There once was a silly old message
that was filled with a queer sort of presage:
It made little sense,
packed with numbers quite dense,
like the fools what had sent that old message.

(Mine strikes me as a bit Goreyesque.)