By Howard Bresnik

We have had, no doubt
A simply wonderful season,
But it doesn't take a genius
To explain to you the reason.
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We've all precisely planned our marketing
Thoughtfully picked out stock
Thoroughly trained our employees
And worked around the clock.
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Read each word in Fur Age Weekly
And attended every show,
But we know that all that matters...
Is that there is cold and snow.
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It is one of the laws of nature,
Established from on high,
No matter what else happens here on earth,
When it's cold out...they will buy.
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The past few years of mild winters
Made it impossible to sell,
When its warm our chances of success
Are like a snowball's chance in hell.
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For years we have been in the red
We all know our plight,
But we're in the black and see more green,
When the winter ground is white.
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Whether fashions today all look brand new,
Or borrowed from the past,
The only thing that matters,
Is that we get that arctic blast
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Some years fashions may be boring,
Or maybe few can afford the cost,
But we all have a super season
When it feels like permafrost.
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Fashion may dictate a fitted waist,
Or a loose coat, a belt, or no belt;
But the only thing that matters,
Is that your store is in the snowbelt.
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Whether you're importing a
"First price, dumb coat,"
Or you're a designer like Bill Tivers,
All that matters to a customer,
Is that her fur coat stops her shivers.
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We scrutinize each others' ads,
To plan our own attack;
But all is lost unless it's cold,
So you can sell an anorak.
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You could buy all wrong, be a rotten guy,
But still look like a hero
As long as you keep your door unlocked
And the temperature's close to zero.

Minneapolis sent us Mary Tyler Moore
And from that show spun off Rhoda,
What we need them to send us is more frigid air
from there and North Dakota.
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And to our Canadian separatist friends,
We hate to sound so blunt,
Stay or leave, but for our common wealth,
Please send out another cold front.
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More important than a strong Northwestern team
Is that we have a strong nor'easter,
And that it's fur coat weather almost until
The weekend before Easter.
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Even after two strong, robust months,
You'll hear furriers beseech...
"Oh, God, just eight more bitter weeks,
Then I'm off to Miami Beach.."
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Sometimes we may go to extremes
To insure ourselves more chill,
Like trying to put the fix on Groundhog's Day
By bribing Puxatauney Phil.
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Unfortunately in our quest for cold,
We're sometimes at odds with most humanity
An early winter thaw for us
Will be greeted with profanity.
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If people knew our inner thoughts,
We'd be looked upon as felons,
Volcanic ash makes it dark and cold...
Blow Pinatubo and Mount St. Helens!!
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It's rumored there's a radical group
Of pro-fur activists forming,
To work with environmentalists,
To combat global warming.
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Now, this is not a mainstream group
It's only just a splinter,
They want to nuke PeTA headquarters
Thus causing nuclear winter.
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Then we could sell coats all year long,
As long as our customer pool was protected,
That's the silver lining in the radioactive cloud
Although the gene pool may be affected.
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I propose each winter we combine
"Chi" from "Chicago," and "Illinois's" "Ill,"
And address all our correspondence
With the designation..."Chill."
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So here's to 1995's selling climate
It brought a frozen tear to the eye,
This year, "Everyday has been Saturday,"
For when it's cold ...they buy.
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Howard Bresnik is from the Chicago Fur Outlet,
Chicago, IL.


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