The Writer's Life 11/30 - Word Play

From the Weird But True column in the NY Post, in my own words: There's a craft brewer in upstate NY called Shmaltz that manufactures HE'Brew Beers. It features types dubbed Rejewvenator and Jewbelation. When the company recently issued a 12-pack of three different pale ales named MANNAge a Trois, it was sued for copyright infringement by a California winery that uses the standard Menage a Trois for one of its products. I love the word play. The suit seems petty, especially since the companies are on opposite coasts. It reminds me of when the L.A. Dodgers threatened to sue a bar called the Brooklyn Dodger, forcing a name change. That seemed hubris from a team that abandoned the borough long ago.

Here is a short list of fun word play, only two of which I'd heard previously:
"Your argument is sound, nothing but sound." - Benjamin Franklin.
"I used to be Snow White, but I drifted." - Mae West.
"Champagne for my real friends and real pain for my sham friends." - credited to Tom Waits.
In Romeo and Juliet, Mercutio quips, just before his death: “..tomorrow … you shall find me a grave man.”
From someone using the moniker aaa on yourdictionary.com: "How come nightfalls but daybreaks?" Also on the site: "A good pun is its own reword."
Groucho Marx was a master of the game. From Animal Crackers (1930): "One morning I shot an elephant in my pajamas. How he got into my pajamas I'll never know."
From literarydevices.com: "Corduroy pillows are making headlines." And: “A Freudian slip is when you say one thing but mean your mother.” And: "Ophthalmologist: For Eyes."
I haven't used much word play in my own works. Two examples immediately come to mind from a one-act play titled The Last Laugh. In it, dead, invisible white greats are in an afterlife somewhere, watching TV, discussing modern times. Thomas Jefferson asks: "Is that paradox, Sam?" And Mark Twain replies: "Ask the pair of docs," referring to Freud and Johnson. A few lines later he is asked if a comment is irony and he responds: "We don't do ironing here," which incites groans.

And here's an amusing cartoon on today's theme. I could not find the artist's name. I apologize:

The floating book shop was rained out for a second straight day. I will be well-rested for tomorrow's return. I've begun what I hope will be the final flush of the file of my next self-published novel, Five Cents. The first 20 pages required little tweaking. If the rest is similar, I will submit the text and order a proof copy on the 10th.
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