Jabberwocky*

It’s dawned on me that half the important documents in my “important document” box are not understandable. I don’t know what my credit card is actually trying to tell me in the latest letter it sent out about changes in its policies.

I read a paragraph and the words turn into geometrical patterns while my brain goes into a deep freeze.

I also don’t know what the heck is covered or not covered in my recent home and auto insurance policies. They sent a whole book of gobbledygook that makes no sense to me. If I were Echria or lawbrat, someone skilled in legal terms and legal argot, I’d be fine. But I’m not smart like they are.

Besides, micro-mini print is enough to turn me off at sight. I can’t do teeny, weenie, little letters that I have to strain to see.

Next are the medical insurance papers, booklets and forms. They have their own box because there are so many of them and each new additional document is always changing the previous set of rules, regulations, commands and demands sent from my caring, loving, medical insurance company.

Warrantees: I save them all but why I don’t know.

The one time I tried to use a warrantee I was told that it didn’t apply to the whole refrigerator, but only to the compressor. Great. Nothing like having a wonderfully working yet guaranteed compressor on a refrigerator that’s operating at a temperature of 80 plus degrees and water’s dripping everywhere and the inside of the fridge smells like a morgue.

Reports come monthly on our 401K savings plan. Lots of words and numbers -- but they might as well just send a Post-it that says: Down again this month! Keep up this savings plan and you’ll be owing us money by September.

I don’t know why we loose money every month; I don’t know where they’ve put our money and I don’t know why we call it a savings plan when it seems to work like a debit card, only I’m not buying anything.

Most of the papers that I’m supposed to save, that are supposed to help me in some way, inform and educate me, save me money or keep me out of jail, are nothing more than doublespeak in my mind.

At least the title poem was meant to be unfathomable…so I pay it tribute for its honesty and euphony and who knows, maybe by rereading it I’ll understand a little more about all those papers in my “important paper” box.

*Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe.
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mame raths outgrabe.
'Beware the Jabberwock, my son,
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch.
Beware the jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious bandersnatch.'
He took his vorpal sword in hand;
Long time the manxome foe he sought.
Then rested he by the tum-tum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.
And as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One! two! and through and through
The vorpal blade went snickersnack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.'
And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjious day! Calooh! Calay!'
He chortled in his joy.'
Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe.
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

Outgrabed in Connecticut