GIL YOUNGER
Gil Younger’s an interesting guy
These limericks will let you know why:
His humor is sly
His aim always high —
And his heart is as huge as the sky
As a maverick he’s proud to be known —
He’s carved out a path that’s his own
Ask his advice —
He’ll say (at least twice):
Be sure that you answer the phone!
His generosity — how it has shown
With his help we’ve expanded and grown
And we hear once again
From this man among men:
Be sure that you answer the phone!
His jokes may elicit a groan
Toward earthiness clearly he’s prone
But the key to success
Is hardly a guess:
Be sure that you answer the phone!
When leaving your desk, you’d do well
To forward that phone to your cell
When people beseech you
They always will reach you —
Do this and you’ll surely excel
And don’t get Gil started on fonts
He’ll tell you the thing that he wants
The fonts that Gil prizes
Are easy on eyeses —
No serifs — that’s what he flaunts
So please — use no fonts with a serif
Or Gil will start charging a tariff
No letters with hooky things
Crooky or booky things —
Gil’s the typography sheriff
Geneva, Verdana, Arial —
These are the fonts to install
But Georgia and Times
Are capital crimes —
Please do not use them at all
Food’s tastiest, Gil says, when it’s hot —
Not nearly as tasty when not
So pre-heat each plate
And your food will taste great —
You’ll enjoy all the flavor it’s got
Where a hand can be lent, he will lend it
If a gift will help out, he will send it
His supreme generosity
Keeps gaining velocity —
Dear Gil – you’re profoundly commended
If you want to get down to his essence
Down to his very quintessence
You come to a space
Of purity, grace —
The place that he calls caring presence
Caring presence — the gift you can share
Caring presence — just be . . . and it’s there
Giving this gift
Will nourish, uplift
And embrace everything, everywhere
He’s very successful, Gil Younger
But being awake is his hunger
His small self he’s tendered —
To Maharishi surrendered —
The result is truly a wonder
The mind, he will say, is your circus
Only illusion can hurt us
The ego defending —
A circus unending . . .
But transcending — that will convert us
The Yoga Vasistha — it’s his
It’s his breath and his blood — it’s his biz
This seeker of truth
This Younger of youth —
Enlightened — that’s what he is
He’s established in Being, the Transcendent
His star’s clearly on the ascendant —
We love you, dear Gil
And always we will —
Your light is truly resplendent
He’s way beyond run of the mill —
He’s a class of his own, if you will
On water, a skier
In Being, a Seer
All praise to that great Younger, Gil!
September 3, 2011