Why is it that we can’t just say what we mean? That’s a problem I had in high school and college in those classes where we were supposed to interpret poetry?

Some poems had some pretty words, but I was more into essays and American literature where stories and commentaries were more structured.

So now comes some theorists who think that there might have been Biblical-type parables in the writings of Dr. Seuss.

Was “The Cat in the Hat” a metaphor for Christ?” asks one theorist.

The last time I used Christ and cat in the same sentence was when I tried to bathe our 18-pound tomcat. I was not thinking about the New Testament as I tried to get him off my head.

I think trying to read scripture into Dr. Seuss is a stretch.

Now I realize in olden times before freedom of speech became a household phrase that language had to be disguised a little in order to protect the writer from the tyrants. But thinking back on some of those earlier rhymes, I would not read “rub-a-dub dub, three men in a tub” as a commentary on homosexuality. I just think there wasn’t enough lifeboats.

As well, I would not read child abuse into “rock-a-bye baby in the tree top” and subsequently the cradle falls.

Now had that little ditty been about shutting a kid up in the closet, then maybe I could see a child abuse commentary. One has to imagine just how difficult it would be to climb a tree carrying a cradle and a baby.

A couple of years ago, singer-songwriter Bob Dylan said his songs really had no deep meaning. I’m a Bob Dylan fan, but in his later years, I would have recommended him for speech therapy. I couldn’t understand his words, much less try to interpret him.

Many thought Dylan’s “Hard Rain” was about nuclear fallout. But he said no, it was just about a frog strangler. My thought was maybe he was under a tin roof that day, and his guitar was handy. I recall in my childhood that rain on a tin roof was somewhat musical. In fact, someone wrote “Mandolin Rain.”

When it comes to Dylan’s “Knocking on Heaven’s Door,” I see that a sheriff has been shot, because the singer tells his mama to take off his badge and bury his guns because he doesn’t need them anymore. He doesn’t actually say he’s dying, but because he says it’s getting dark, then I think that’s a reasonable conclusion. Either that, or he didn’t get re-elected, and he’s been at the bar too long.

I guess that’s why I like country music. It’s earthy and plain. When someone sings, “The girls all get prettier at closing time,” then I think the cause and effect of not going straight home after work is rather plain.

And so I like plain speak. I think we would have much less confusion today about the Second Amendment if someone had just written: “You have a right to pack a gun in case someone tries to rob you or cause you bodily harm and in the event an idiot gets in the White House and thinks he’s a king instead of a president. But in the event someone designs machine guns, street sweepers and otherwise small concealable cannons, the government has the right to limit your ability to wipe out an entire barroom.”

(Dwain Walden is editor/publisher of The Moultrie Observer, 985-4545. E-mail: dwain.walden@gaflnews.com.)