Monthly Archives: August 2007

Poems

My Retirement from the Army


In “Another Catch-up Poem,” I told you that the 1990 Christmas Poem would explain why we were back in D.C.   In the Summer of 88′, we moved to D.C.  In the Fall of 89′, we left D.C. (never to return) and moved to Fort Leavenworth.  Then in the Summer of 1990, I retired from the Army and we moved back to D.C.

I had worked for Major General Jerry Curry at V Corps in Frankfurt, West Germany.  Then, he retired from the Army and ran for Congress in 1988.  Following his unsuccessful bid, President Bush appointed him the Administrator of the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration “NHTSA” (when I’m talking to someone who has never heard of NHTSA, I say, “you know, the auto recall people”).  General Curry asked me to retire and come be his Chief Counsel at NHTSA.  He called me in January and after five traumatic months, I had wrapped up my military career and moved back to D.C.  We purchased a home in a neighborhood very close to where we had sold our house nine months before.

So the poem below sets out the trauma of three major moves in three years.  In the Army,  the transportation people joke that regarding your furniture “three moves equals one fire”.  The difference as I see it is that you can put a fire out!

A Christmas Poem – 1990

(Surprise, again)
A new address, egad I fear,
We’ve done it again, for the third straight year.
We packed our belongings, in a van they were carted,
As crazy as it seems, we’re back where we started.

(Historic Post)
Our tour at Fort Leavenworth was really the most,
We loved our old quarters and living on post.
But opportunity knocked and it was a hummer,
But nine month tours are really a bummer.

(Loving Wife)
Carole understood the move and she really had to scamper,
Her life was turned up side down, she was not a happy camper.
But now she is settled in a house she selected,
Enjoying friends at the Thrift Shop and stores she’s detected.

(The Job)
I was appointed Chief Counsel in the traffic safety field,
My credentials were suspect, only knowing Stop and Yield.
But I passed all the tests, allaying all their fears,
After all, I’ve been driving for mucho, mucho years.

(Transition)
After 28 years of Army, it’s hard to leave the scene,
Of spit-shined boots and dining-in hoots, we’ll miss our friends in green.
The secret folks is continue the jokes and drive away the blues,
Dive into the job, and don’t be a slob, spit-shine your wing-tipped shoes.

(Kids)
As the kids moved West, we moved east,
Which made this move just more of a beast.
As the grandkids get larger, there’s not much to see,
So we’re giving our money to AT&T.

Becky and Kerby Ross moved more West than you can see,
They’re in Prescott, Arizona, teaching ROTC.
Grant is now four and Brandon’s almost two,
A pair of delightful kids, who’ll bring a smile to you.

Missy and Terry Hansen have reason to be happy,
At any moment now, he’s about to become a pappy.
He’s still designing buses, and she’s still teaching Headstart,
When the little one comes to Hutchinson, they both will need a jump start.

Paul graduated this month, a Mizzou alumnus,
We’re hoping this Christmas, that he’ll be among us.
He’s trying to decide which job will be right,
But, wherever he goes, it will be more bright.

(Closing — at last)
If you read this far, I’m sure you are bored,
For making these rhymes has become untoward.
If I were more careful and cautious of what I say,
Then this missile wouldn’t arrive until Independence Day.
So it’s Merry Christmas, and love and kisses,
And all that’s good, from me and the missus.

Random Thoughts

Women and Cell Phones


I like to observe people.  Downtown Washington, D.C. is an ideal location.  It’s best to wear sun glasses.  In a small town, everybody says hello, but in a big city, making eye contact is a no-no.  If someone does smile or nod at me, I know they are visiting.

One of the things I noticed is that women always seem to be talking on a cell phone.  During lunch, after work, regardless of street location, there they are talking away.

Since I would rather look at women than men, I thought maybe my observations were skewed.  So, I decided to turn my observations into a random unscientific survey.  Those are really the best kind of surveys.  Scientific surveys, which gather large volumes of data end up telling us what we already know (like people with criminal records are more likely to get in trouble in the military than people with no criminal record), or concluding with a result that was bought and paid for (such as cigarettes don’t cause cancer).

If you are doing a random unscientific survey, you don’t have to worry about things like a regression analysis or a chi-square test.  They would be difficult to do since I have no idea what they are.

As part of my survey, I just started counting and recording.  In order to be counted, the person had to have the phone to his or her ear.  Hey, I make the rules.  My first attempt resulted in 13 women and five men.  I think that is statistically significant.  Then, four women and one man (some of my unscientific survey sessions only lasted a few minutes).  After just two weeks, I shut the survey down.  I had satisfied myself that on the streets of DC, there are more women talking on cell phones than men.

But, what does it mean?  Does it mean that women have more friends?  Are they better multi-taskers?  They can walk and talk at the same time.  Or, are they more chatty?  Let’s face it, there is a Chatty Kathy doll, but there is no Chatty Charlie doll.

I concluded there are too many possible reasons why this is occurring.  This is going to require a full blown investigation.  As I am just about retired from the Fox, and seeking other opportunities, I think I will conduct the investigation.  I just need to find someone stupid enough to pay for it.  I know, I’ll get a government grant!

Mizzou

When Law School Had a Cutting Edge

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Yes, I did go to law school.  There was a time, before law schools existed, when a person would learn law by clerking as an apprentice in a lawyer’s office.  I’m not that old.  But, I have to admit the rules of admission to law schools were a lot different when I started.

Law School Aptitude Test (LSAT), what’s that?  There was no LSAT when I went to the University of Missouri.  All a student had to have to enter law school was 90 hours and 90 Honor Points (one hour of “C” gave you one Honor Point).  Easy to get in, hard to graduate.  Since practically anyone could get in, the school flunked out about a third the first year.

I remember a third-year law student talking to our class the first day.  He said, “Look at the student to your left and now, look at the student to your right.  One of the three of you will not be back next year.  That was scary, particularly since the people on my left and right looked pretty smart.

While most of my classmates already had a degree, I was one of those eager beavers who had entered law school at the end of my third year with 90 plus hours.  I had gotten all my required courses out of the way during my first three years.  But, I needed to pass my first year of law school to receive my undergraduate degree.

I had just gotten married, which was a good thing.  While it piled on more pressure, it certainly kept me focused.  I was still completing my fourth year of ROTC, and if I flunked out of law school, I suspect I would have been drafted and had no degree.  Maybe I could learn to be a pastry chef at Fort Lee’s Culinary Art Institute.  On top of all that, I had quit the football team to go to law school and the team ended up going to the Orange Bowl!

About half way through my first semester, we were instructed to report to a classroom to take an aptitude test.  We were advised that the test would have no affect on us as law students.  They just wanted us as a “base group.”  Looking back, I suspect it was some form of an early LSAT test.

There were 60 multiple choice questions and the test was to last one hour.  Being a math wizard, I figured out I had one minute per question.  The monitor explained it was not a good idea to guess, because a wrong answer hurt more than leaving the question blank.  I was amazed at how little I knew.  With about five minutes left, I had answered about 25 questions.  So much for time management.  I walked out of the classroom despondent.  If this test indicated aptitude to be a lawyer, I needn’t look to my left or right.

One of my classmates had his undergraduate degree in Agriculture.  That seemed strange to me.  While I had no degree, I had hopes that at the end of the year I would have a degree in Political Science.  But Agriculture?  Finally, I had to ask.  He looked at me disgustingly and said, “I’m going to law school because I couldn’t make the cut to get into veterinary school!”

The first semester wouldn’t tell me much.  Two of my courses (Contracts and Torts) were year long courses and I wouldn’t get a grade until June.  Because of ROTC,  I was only taking 12 law school hours.  At the end of the semester, I would only have grades in Civil Procedure and Legal Professions (an ethics course).  Neither would tell me much about aptitude to be a lawyer.

While studying in the law library, a bunch of my football buddies came by to tell me to study hard while they were in Miami.  While they were jerking me around, it still felt good to see them.  If things didn’t work out, maybe I could be a public relations guy for an athletic program.

At the end of a stress filled year of doubt, the grades trickled in and I had passed everything.  I graduated from undergraduate school and was commissioned as a Second Lieutenant in the Field Artillery.   Also, I was deferred from active duty for two years to finish law school.  No more thoughts about going to Fort Lee to become a pastry chef.  But the emptiness of the Orange Bowl will always be there.

Poems

Christmas Together – 2003

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Hey, I want you to see my old Christmas poems.  If you are family or close friends, you probably saw them some time back.  Just humor me.  I will eventually run out of them – but, not for a while!



CHRISTMAS TOGETHER – 2003

We’ve struggled and muggled our way through the year,
High points and low points, but not without cheer.
But as the days grow short and as the year ends,
It’s great to be surrounded by loved ones and friends.
Based on that criteria, there won’t be any hysteria,
Because all of our children will be in the area.

Becky and Grant and Brandon, the Cool,
Will fly in from the West, here for the Yule.
Missy and Tyler and Kristin and Terry,
Will drive up from Florida, arrivals may vary.
Paul and Josh and Jack and Sandy,
Live two hours away and that’s real handy.
Together at Christmas, won’t that be fine?
Last time it happened was 89.

Carole is the organizer responsible for the fete,
She’s a cook extraordinary, there’ll be plenty to eat.
Carole’s new hobby of which I may grouse,
Is buying new furniture and filling the house.
Couches and chests and knick knacks galore,
It’s like running a maze, just finding the door.
But there is a new rule about which I shout,
When a new piece comes in, an old one goes out.

Jack’s still enjoying life at the Fox,
There’s been a refocus and energy rocks.
No more a merger maiden, we’re playing to our strengths,
Focused on core areas and going to all lengths.
Heading for the best year ever, the third time in a row,
Picking up Twosies and Threesies and watching our numbers grow.
We’re branding the Fox, shortening our name, to pull right out ahead,
We’re struggling over trivia, like should the Fox be blue or red,
And even more a scuffle, will it appear on our letterhead.

Another good travel year, with a Great Lakes cruise,
RAJA in Vegas, no time to snooze.
We ducked by to see Becky and Mary on the way,
The visits were too short, no time in the day.
Golf School in Florida, what a crazy game,
I’m hitting much better, but the score is the same.
Cherry blossom time brought us Brother Bob and Sue,
We walked the Tidal Basin, but our fingers all turned blue.

Our cards are late this year, but really for a reason,
We’re planning a group photo, to capture the season.
We’re thankful for so much, the turkey and the ham,
An early Christmas present, when the Army caught Saddam!
For soldiers stationed far away, for friends from far and near,
For the spirit of the season, for love and good cheer,
A very Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year!

The Fox

Becoming Part of The Fox

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One of the hard, cold facts about making the military a career is that you will have to have a second career.  You have to retire twice.  After I retired from the Army, I was able to hook on with the Department of Transportation for about three years  It was a political appointment.  So, I had to check out when the Administration lost the election.  That doesn’t count as a retirement (it’s more like getting canned).  Life is full of bumps.

I was 55 years old and had never been in private practice.  I always wondered what it would be like.  After three years at DOT, I professed to have an “area of expertise.”  I knew a lot about motor vehicle safety law.  I also knew about a half dozen Washington lawyers in D.C. firms who were willing to “pass on my resume.”   Bump, bump.

I had one close friend who was a senior partner at Arent Fox.  We had started together in the JAG Corps thirty years earlier.  After three years in the Army, Larry Henneberger got out and joined Arent Fox.  We stayed in contact through the years.  Larry didn’t think my “future client base” would fit at Arent Fox as they already represented a large number of motor vehicle parts manufacturers and it seemed like I would be pointed toward representing major auto manufacturers.  While he didn’t think Arent Fox would be the right place for me, he thought it would be good experience for me to interview with the Fox and pick up some interview skills.  I did too.

I have a good friend named Dave Zucker who had worked for me at the JAG School as Chief of Government Contracting.  He had retired from the Army and was practicing with a large law firm in Los Angeles.  I asked him what it was like to be in private practice.  He said there were some similarities to the Army.  He said, “Jack, think about taking your office to the field.  Everybody is in a circle around a bonfire.  When the fire starts getting low, someone goes out and gathers some more wood and throws in on the fire.  It’s the same in private practice, except everyone is facing away from the fire looking for possible clients.  They are also hoping that someone else is looking after the fire.”  Bump, bump, bump.

I also asked Dave whether he thought I could pass myself off as having expertise in Government Contracting.  He said, “Definitely not!”

The Arent Fox interview consisted of meeting individually with five partners.  They were quite friendly and it was an enjoyable experience.  Maybe that was because I had been told not to expect anything to come of it.  I even got a free lunch.  Eventually during each interview, they wanted to know how I intended to bring clients to the Fox.  I did my best, but I obviously didn’t have any clients.  So, I told them I would go out and find them.  Not too original.

Later, Larry called to tell me that the interviews had gone well and that they wanted me to come back for more interviews.  The second set of interviews led to an offer which I happily accepted.  If they had offered me a lot less, I would have happily accepted.

In reflecting back, I needed a job.  I probably would have accepted an offer from any firm (Dewey, Cheetum and Who?).  But to my good fortune, I ended up with one of the really great firms in D.C.  The people at the firm like each other!  They are smart in their clients world and work hard, but always as a team.  There are actually lots of partners at the firm who are keeping track of the bonfire.

That was 14 years ago and I haven’t heard anything on those other resumes I floated.  That’s OK, because I am getting ready to retire, retire.

Random Thoughts

Die Hard Cardinal Fan


I grew up in East St. Louis, Illinois – right across the Mississippi River from St. Louis.  I loved the St. Louis Cardinals and still do.  Every night during the season, I would go to bed listening to Harry Carey and Gabby Street broadcasting the end of the Cards game.  That’s right, Harry Carey.  Before he became the voice of the Chicago Cubs, he spent decades with the St. Louis Cardinals.

My Dad played professional baseball.  He was a catcher and spent most of his time in the minor leagues.  When he was catching for the Albany Senators (NY), his roommate on road trips was Ralph Kiner.  If you don’t know who Ralph Kiner is, that is OK.  Most people don’t.  But, the hard corps fans know he played for the Pittsburgh Pirates and led the National League in home runs from 1946 through 1952, and is in the Hall of Fame.  Dad taught me and my brother, Bill, how to be a catcher.  The Rice household was big on baseball (on being a catcher) and the Cardinals were our team.

I now live in the Washington DC area and cheer for the Washington Nationals (except when they are playing the Cardinals).  So when the Cardinals came to town last week, I had to go see them.

The University of Missouri Alumni Association held a tailgate party for the Saturday night game.  My daughter Missy, visiting for a few days from Jacksonville, Florida, and I went to the tailgate.  The temperature was 98 degrees and there was no shade.  The food was great, but hot and steamy.  There was free beer!  A much appreciated donation from, who else, Anheuser-Busch.  Yes, being a St. Louis fan has its advantages.

Even free beer couldn’t keep us from escaping the sun.  When we got to our seats, there was somebody sitting in them.  Our entire section was practically empty, except for the four people sitting in and around our seats.  This was not a problem.  They had just sat there to avoid the sun while they ate.  We told them we would sit elsewhere while they finished their dinner, but they were embarrassed and moved right out.

The game turned out to be a Redbird disaster.  The final score was 12-1 and Albert Pujols didn’t play.  What a bummer.  They got beat like an old rug.  The only high point in the game was that we didn’t get anyone seriously injured.  Other than that, it was a washout.  Here is an example.  The Nats had a runner on second base and the batter laced a line drive to center field.  Jim Edmonds, our center fielder, has a great arm and I just knew he would throw the runner out at home plate.  I have seen him do it any number of times.  I glanced at the runner and he is rounding third and heading for home.  I look back to center field and Edmonds is sitting on his butt.  He obviously slipped on the turf.  As I said, the good news is he wasn’t seriously hurt.

A sociologist would have a field day at the park.  There is as much entertainment in the stands as on the field.  Sitting across the aisle from us was a guy all decked out in Redskin regalia.  He also had a large Redskin banner that he paraded up and down the aisle.  I concluded that it probably was about the best time to cheer for the Redskins.  We hadn’t even lost a pre-season game yet.  It didn’t surprise us to find out that our Redskin fan was drunk.  He was a friendly drunk, which is the best kind.  He told me he was a Cardinal fan and a National fan.  So rather than make a hard choice, he dressed as a Redskin fan.  I wondered how that would work in politics.  If you liked both Obama and Hillary, you could just start combing your hair like John Edwards.

The good news for our section was that all the altercations were of the verbal variety.  Close, but no fisticuffs.  My daughter thought we might have to step in and defuse the situation.  I told her she needed to come up with an alternate plan that moved us in the opposite direction.  One man accused another of touching him.  This led to shouting.  The thing I found humorous was that all the participants were National fans.  This was not about team allegiance (which I could understand), it was about personal space.

I think the score was 10-1 when we decided to relinquish our personal space.  By leaving early, we failed to see Tony La Russa, our manager, put second baseman, Arron Miles, in to pitch.  Miles did better than our real pitchers.  Maybe La Russa is on to something.

As we wandered around outside the stadium trying to find our car, I was smiling.  Nothing that happens this year can take away from that warm wonderful feeling of last year.  We stumbled and fumbled into the playoffs and then, won it all.  The only way we got into the playoffs was by Houston losing the last game of the season.  The playoff memories of knocking off the Padres, the Mets and then, the Tigers to win the World Series are still fresh.  The Championship came with a two year smile warranty.

My Military Daze

Oh Yes, The Old Class Q Allotment


I don’t remember his name.  All I know is he was the oldest looking PFC I had ever seen.  And, of course, he was talking to me because he was in trouble.  The Army wanted to kick him out.  Sometimes the Army can really screw over a person and this was a classic case.

The thing that was most impressive about my PFC was that he was wearing the Combat Infantry Badge with two stars.  That meant he had seen combat in three wars, World War II, the Korean War and the Vietnam War.  I don’t know how it is today, but you didn’t see many CIB’s with two stars back then.  These guys were really special.

About that same time, there was a chief warrant officer in the JAG Office with a CIB.  He was telling me about the conversation he had with a first lieutenant who was proudly displaying his Expert Infantryman Badge ( EIB ).  He was explaining to the chief all of the tests he had to successfully complete to be awarded the EIB.  The lieutenant then asked the chief what he had to do to be entitled to wear the CIB.  The chief said, “All I had to do was stay alive.”

The Army was determine to get rid of my PFC.  He had prepared false official documents.  Many years back, he had married a woman, who unbeknownst to him,  was already married.  They had lived in government quarters on post and when he was shipped overseas, she received an allotment called a Class Q Allotment.  This allotment was mandatory.  The Army wanted to insure that wives were supported while the soldiers were overseas.  Later, she left him telling him that she was going back to her “real” husband.  So our PFC went to the JAG Office and asked a young military lawyer whether he was, in fact, married.  The young lawyer advised him that if his wife was already married, then their marriage was illegal and he was a free man.

Well, he had been dating this sweet young thing and since he was a free man, they got married.  This second marriage was legal, but Army Records still showed him married to the first woman.  In fact, she was still receiving the Class Q Allotment (the devil is in the paperwork).  His inquiries led him to a military clerk who explained that the only way he could stop the allotment was to show the Army a divorce decree.

So everything rocked along until our soldier received overseas orders and he wanted to make out an allotment for his present wife.  The allotment clerk advised him that he could only have allotments to relatives and that he should list his present wife as his cousin, since he already had an allotment going to his first “wife.”  So, he did just that.

When he returned to the states, the Army would not assign him to military quarters to live with his “cousin.”  She got fed up and left and he went after her.  That AWOL cost him some stripes and then when he tried to explain, they decided he had “falsified” allotment documents and to process him out of the Army.

I was a young captain, but I felt certain that we could explain away any supposed misdeeds.  I was in the process of obtaining his first wife’s first marriage certificate (to prove she was a bigamist, and that it wasn’t my guy’s fault), when he decided to disappear.

This would have been a great story if I could have saved his career and gotten everything squared away, but it just wasn’t to be.  The only good news is that when he went AWOL for the last time, the Army probably stopped the bogus Class Q Allotment.