The current competition, in which Verse or Worsifiers were called upon to discuss the dismissal of TV weatherman Paul Douglas in words of one syllable, produced rather an odd assortment.

Among your genial host's selections for the top-five contenders — one of which you will choose to be the winner of an inexpressibly apt MinnPost T-shirt — are two that rhyme. (Your genial host has no idea why those folks chose to do that, but there was certainly no reason to hold it against them.)

One of the also-rans was an entry that wasn't about Paul Douglas at all. It was a monosyllabic note, with an internal rhyme, proclaiming Verse or Worse to be a curse — and a waste of time. Your genial host can't do anything about the alleged cursedness. But as to time being wasted, point taken; let's get to the entries.

Here are the top five. Choose the one that (in words of one sound) you think is worth a real nice T-shirt, and vote for it down where it says "here."
 
Paul is on the air no more,
I miss him so when I press 4.
It's change they say, it's dimes and cents.
The ads they claim, don't pay the rents.
 
They say they cut him from his work,
that the Big Board is not a jerk.
But Paul is sad, and I know why,
There was no chance to say the "Bye."
 
For years he's told us 'bout the rain,
sleet, and snow, and all the pain.
And now of all the cost cut pranks,
Fans had no "The End" to watch their "Thanks."
—Fred Abuan
 
A sun, rain, sleet, snow guy by the name of Paul was full of hot air. His talk about the stuff that comes down on us got dull, so the folks out East said let's give those who view him a treat. Paul no more, Paul no more. The hue and cry could be heard far and wide in his home state: "Yes, we care. It is not fair!" Paul would now be poor with no home or food or car or job or fun in his life. But Paul took the news with a smile on his face. You see, he has more dough than God. So do not fear. You will not see Paul in tears.
—Sandra Nelson
 
 
So sad to hear.
He was so dear.  
With no toot,
He felt the boot.
Now he is gone.
I hope not long.
I miss his smile.
I change the dial.
— Sue Tremain

This is a tale of two trips to New York by two guys from here. One worked out well; one … not so much.

Bob D is a guy from up the Range who writes and sings. He writes
good; he sings . . . like there's a truck gear box where his voice box
should be. He went to New York when Ike was Prez. He wrote well
known stuff: "Like a Stone that Rolls," "It's All Right Ma (I'm Just
Blood-Soaked)," "That Road Down from Up North Once More," and his big hit, "Hey, Sir Drum-with-tin-things-on-it Man." Bob got it all: fame, dough … Joan B.  Now Bob won a prize named for young hens.

Paul D's trip to New York was not so great. Paul works on the tube; he tells if it will be cold or hot, rain or shine. (Paul's wrong lots, but folks still like him, 'cause he's nice.) Paul's trip was for fun; but some suit gave him a call and gave him the ax.  It was not a shock; the firm's in the red. As Bob sang, "You don't have to have Paul's job to know which way the wind blows."
– Ervin Stembol
 

Paul Dug Less at Dave Moore's Old Haunt
Boob Tube Brass Fire Paul's Ass
You know the place where Dave Moore used to work? Well, the brass in charge there just fired the small guy named Paul who looks at the sky and tells us how much snow he thinks we'll get. You know Paul: He's smooth and so is his hair. Each year he goes to the State Fair and talks to the crowd as he eats a corn dog dressed in beige shorts with pleats (a sight to see!).

Paul does not have one bad word to say on what the brass did; in fact, he has been quite the mensch. Of course, he has scads of cash to fall back on, so it's not such a big deal as it would be for, say, you or me. We doubt we've seen the last of Paul!
—Ann Klauda
 
Cast your vote for the winner by clicking here. Voting ends at 5 p.m. Thursday, April 24. On Monday, April 28, we'll announce the winner of the universally admired MinnPost T-shirt — and a new competition.