Volume 10, Number 2
Oct 1997

Random Notes from a Serviceman's Log Book

Or-So-What Else is New?

This poem was written by Dr. Hugh Craig (deceased) of Hercules Powder Co. in 1955, during the hectic AKD trial days. The poem is written to the meter of "Dangerous Dan McGrew" [a 1907 poem by Robert Service, formally titled "The Shooting of Dan McGrew"]. It was sent in by David A. Smith (Chem-Sol, Inc., Newark, DE), who knows from experience what an Aquapel salesman went through in the early days.

There are strange schemes planned
In this wonderful land,
By the men of P.M.C.
And if you're seeking wealth at the cost of health,
You should have been with me
When I drove away on an August day,
My purpose being to sell
To a friendly mill--or it was, until
I tried out Aquapel.

A telephone call to Montreal
Had started the whole affair.
"Size a neutral sheet? Why--that's no feat,"
I replied so debonair,
And proceeded to speak of this wonderful thing
And of its merits tell,
When the voice boomed back,
"Come on up here and bring your Aquapel!"

It's Sunday night and my throat is tight,
While the tension in the air
Seems to mount a mile, just before the trial,
So I think I'll say a prayer.
"Oh nozzles don't plug and emulsion don't break,
And motor please start to whine,
Oh why won't you work on this strife torn night,
Little Moyno pump of mine?"
"What's the matter, man?" The boss seems calm,
As he sees me soaked in sweat,
"You're hot and bothered and looking old,
And we haven't started yet."

The trial starts in the usual way,
Two hours of cursing--six tons of hay.
And when we get a sample to test,
As blotters go-- This is the best.
When we double the add-on the boss shakes his fist,
He's lost his machine in a cloud of mist.
But I console him with, "Now, don't yell,

This is standard procedure with Aquapel."

As I wind my way, at the break of day,
Back to my domicile,
I could hear some laugh and the other half
Of the crew wore a smile.
Yes, the motor's burnt and the nozzle's plugged,
But the hero, I hear tell,
Was the man in the mill who's looking still,
For the rest of the Aquapel.