All of my adult life, I have worn a green visor. You say that sounds a little strange. Well, it is. It started rather harmlessly in law school. The lighting was terrible in the library and about half of the students wore green eye shades or visors. Even Professor Howard, who taught Constitutional Law, wore a green visor. His was of a higher quality than the cheap ones we bought at the University Book Store.
During law school, I used to get severe headaches and they seemed to start in my eyes. I figured it was the glare from the lighting and religiously wore my green visor. It turned out the headaches were migraines, but I didn’t figure that out for 30 years. But, I was convinced that the little green eye shade permitted me to work longer without getting a headache. When I graduated, I just kept wearing my visor.
When I went to Germany in 1966, I took a couple of visors with me, but they didn’t last. The cheap plastic cracked. I searched all over for visors, but with no luck. Visor in German is visor (but they pronounce it “veezor”). Finally, I found a pair of clip-on, flip-up sun glasses. I would clip them on my glasses and flip them up half way and use them as an eye shade. Any port in a storm.
Wearing a green visor has inherent problems. Someone will come into my office and say, for the hundredth time, “Where’s the card game?” Finally, I started responding with, “Sorry, but we are not giving out prizes today for originality of thought.” It seemed like it was usually the women who would suggest that I needed garters for my shirt sleeves to make the outfit complete.
In 1984, I was assigned to Command and General Staff College (C&GSC) at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas. I used to know why we were sent to the school, but I can no longer remember, nor care. I remember that our section had a pretty good flag football team. I also remember that so many players got seriously injured that it was the last year the C&GSC played flag football.
Joe Conboy, for whom I worked in Vietnam, was the Post Staff Judge Advocate. He invited me over to visit his office. When I got there, he took me around and introduced me to his officers. Every one of them was wearing a green visor. I was really impressed. I was so impressed that it never occurred to me that I was the subject of the joke. You would think that when I saw the 4th or 5th captain in a visor that some light might have come on. They all had a good laugh at pulling it off.
Sometime in the late Eighties, the little green visor started disappearing from the stores. Of course, the small office supply store was also disappearing and Staples and Office Depot couldn’t figure out what I was talking about. I am probably the only guy who was excited about going to Las Vegas so he could buy some green visors. Well, it is a myth. They didn’t even have them in Vegas. What a rip. I would go into sport stores and they would say, “Sure, we got visors.” Then, they would bring out some strange looking visor that said, “Myrtle Beach.” All I wanted was a little old dark green visor, like every accountant wore back in the 1930’s.
I even made some effort to get the material and have them made (I could corner the market). But my efforts to find the right green plastic failed. Then one of my friends, Howard Bushman, found two visors at an estate sale. They were beautiful. They had a copyright date of 1924 on them. Of course, the elastic in the bands had died. I cut off portions of the band and sewed them together. They worked great for a while. Then, I took them to a tailor and had new elastic put on. I kept one at the office and one at home. Now, being retired, they are both at home.
My green visor has been to me like a kid’s sleepy blanket. I was lost without it. Sometimes at work, friends would hide my visor and just watch me circle my office and come unglued. Since they were friends, they never let it go too far.
I figured out my headaches were migraines when Newsweek published an artist’s conception of different headaches. I looked at the orange ball of fire surrounded by blackness and said, “That’s my headache.” Well, after I figured out I had migraines, it made it easier to communicate with people why I didn’t want to do something. But, I still had the headaches. Then, Motrin with Ibuprofen came along and I was saved. My migraines were very polite. They always let me know when they were going to visit. And, at the first signal (which was hard to miss), all I had to do was pop a couple of Motrin and the migraine never captured me.
Wearing a green visor my entire working life (and also at home) is quirky, but when you think of all the crazy people out there, I don’t think that wearing a green visor rises to too high above the ridge line.
Life is good. My wife, Carole, is delighted that I have solved my migraine problem. And, as for my green visor, she even helps me look for it when it is lost. With the kids grown up, I am now her only child.
Monthly Archives: January 2008
The Chronicles of O’Fivia, The Vision, the Trip and the Golf Ball
It’s hard to tell from the title, but this is the last of the Christmas poems, Christmas – 2005. We are now current and you no longer will have to read about what my 17 year old grandson did when he was ten.
In 2005, Disney came out with a movie entitled, The Chronicles of Narnia, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. My title for the 2005 Christmas poem was a lame attempt to find humor off of the Disney title. It would have helped if a few more people had seen the Disney movie. Maybe, not even that would have helped. It seemed like a good idea at the time.
It also seemed like we remodeled the whole year. Our neighbors asked if our contractor had moved in with us. Almost. It was maddening. But, that is probably not too unusual. My wife’s close friend, Olga, was building a new home and she was furious with her contractor. She asked her family doctor for something to calm her down. The doctor said that before he could prescribe the medication, he needed to make sure she didn’t have any suicidal thoughts. She said, “Suicidal, no, homicidal, yes, I want to kill my contractor!” The bottom line on our remodeling is that we are tremendously pleased with finished product.
The trip to Ireland was incredible. If you want to read more about it, see my blog entitled, “Best of Ireland.”
The Chronicles of O’Fivia
The Vision, the Trip and the Golf Ball
Golly gee, it’s Christmas time,
A time to write, a time to rhyme.
Santa and his reindeer, way up in the sky,
It’s the best way to travel, with gas prices so high.
Fifteen years in Springfield, and every three we start to pack,
It’s hard to break old habits, then we cut ourselves some slack.
The Army days are over, so remodel and add on a room,
Now Carole has a vision, new bathrooms are coming soon.
It seemed like a good idea, just give the house a new face,
But we hardly picked out the tile, and “someone’s” a basket case.
We sunned ourselves on the Gulf coast visiting Bob and Sue,
Jogged over to see Missy and Terry, then joined the RAJA crew.
But our best trip was in August, we say with a smile,
We were looking for a Leprechaun, all over the Emerald Isle.
While we found no pot of gold, it was a wonderful event,
We came home smiling and exhausted, with all our money spent.
The children are good, you can’t beat that,
No natural disasters, or a serious spat.
Grant’s off to the University of Arizona, and Becky’s at a District school,
Brandon’s put a band together and is trying to be cool.
Missy and Terry keep dodging the storms on Florida’s eastern shore,
With a newly acquired motorcycle, escaping won’t be a chore.
Tyler’s now in high school, and likes to just hang out,
Kristin’s on the dancing team with new routines to tout.
Paul got himself promoted, he’s now a deputy warden,
He commutes to Roanoke, and it ain’t no rose garden.
We saw them at Thanksgiving, togetherness is the answer,
Josh was playing chess, and Jack’s a robot dancer.
We gathered for Mary’s 90th, with Karen, Jeanette and Bill,
We laughed and told great stories, with sobriety and skill.
We’re preparing for another event, another happy day,
For Blanche will soon be 90, she’s only two years away.
A Leadbetter golf school for Jack’s iffy game,
Why he didn’t do it sooner, it really is a shame.
For now, he shot a 79, and his confidence just climbs,
If you’ve seem him in the last six months, he’s told you 14 times.
It’s time to wrap this up, the paper’s gotten curled,
And if this missive arrives real late, it’s cause we’re at Disney World.
But we’re thinking of you all, dear family and friends,
Through these joyous days, till the Holiday ends.
Then a new year begins, and our wish is clear,
We wish you a wonderful and Happy New Year!
Retirement Delayed
I retired from Arent Fox at the end of the year, so that I could devote more time to RICEQUIPS.COM. That was the plan. You know what happens to plans. They never quite work out as originally planned. That’s one of the things that I think makes Americans so special. We adapt, adjust, modify, or shift gears without having to start over.
In the 1960’s, I was sent to the Defense Language Institute, West Coast (DLIWC) to study German. That’s all I did for six months. A lot of the students in my class were enlisted and even though I was a junior captain, I became class leader. After about three months, the Chairman of the German Department, Hans Von Richter, called all the class leaders together (there were only four). It appeared that a new building had been completed at DLIWC and no money had been made available for landscaping. So, one of the professors, on his own dime, paid for all the landscaping. The department chairs did not think he should bear the cost. So, each department decided to come up with a money making project to help pay back the professor.
The German Department decided they would have a German picnic and charge each person a small amount. Much of the food would be contributed by the faculty. One professor was going to make her famous German potato salad. A German friend of the department owned a winery and he was going to contribute all the wine for the picnic. There was a lot of excitement and planning by the faculty who were all Germans. The picnic was set for about a month out and we must have had eight to ten meetings to make sure everything would be perfect. The attention to detail was maddening.
The day of the picnic came and we drove inland to the picnic grounds. While it was cool on the coast in Monterey, it was in the high 90’s at the picnic. Also, we had brought a lot more children than anyone had anticipated. The result was that we ran out of soda in the first 45 minutes. Director Von Richter and the German professors were running around saying, “How could we know it would be so hot and so many children? Mein Gott!” While the professors were ranting and raving, a senior NCO came up to me and said, “Sir, give me a couple of bucks. We’re going to buy some more soda.” Well, twenty minutes later, we had all the soda we could drink and the German professors were amazed and delighted. They couldn’t get over how we solved the problem with good old GI ingenuity. The NCO came up to me and quietly said, “that’s why they lost the war, big on planning and unable to react.”
Well, my retirement took a left turn. I’m still retired, but the blogging isn’t as efficient as I hoped. It is still catch-as-catch-can. My wife, Carole, had arthritis in both knees and we planned on getting it taken care of after my retirement. She had both knees operated on last Wednesday. Operation on Wednesday, walking on Thursday, climbing steps Friday morning and home Friday afternoon. Mein Gott!
It was no fun putting Carole in the car at the hospital, especially for her. She had a prescription for pain killers and Carole took it out of the folder as we were driving to the military hospital at Fort Belvoir to fill the prescription. Suddenly, she couldn’t find the prescription. It is crazy how a little piece of paper can go hide, and hide it did. We knew it had to be in the car, but we actually had to have Carole painfully climb out of the car in order to find it. What an ordeal. Then, after we found it, I wanted to negotiate to see how many of the pain killers I got.
Now, I am fully employed as a not-so-practical nurse (NSPN). It came to me in a flash. RN stands for “really nuts.” I would have to be really nuts to do this any longer than absolutely necessary.
She is making incredible progress. Back in 1987, I had my knee scoped. They took out some small pieces of meniscus. It was no big deal, but I had to sign a release saying it was OK if they broke my leg. I asked them why they would break my leg if they were just scoping my knee. They told me if I didn’t sign the release, they could not operate. So I signed. They could have said they wouldn’t break my leg (I knew they wouldn’t), but then again, they couldn’t say that. It’s all quite confusing unless you have dealt with medical malpractice issues.
Well, no broken leg. After the procedure, they bandaged and wrapped me up, gave me crutches and sent me home. They told me I could take the bandage off (and shower) in five days. I couldn’t wait to get the bandage off so I would be able to bend my knee. After five days, I took the bandage off and found out that it wasn’t the bandage. The knee was stiff as a board. This is Carole’s fifth day and she has been bending her knees since day two. Modern medicine is wonderful, but it’s still no fun for NSPN Rice.
But, don’t give up on me as a blogger. When I’m not preparing a meal or washing clothes, I’ll try to write something. I know, I know, women do these things all the time. I truly don’t know how they do it or why anyone would refer to them as the weaker sex. I’m going to take a nap.
Thankful Christmas – 2004
In 2004, we had a lot to be thankful for. And here, in 2008, we can all be thankful that I am almost caught up in publishing old Christmas poems. This is the penultimate poem. I love that word and there aren’t many opportunities to use it. When I used it in my legal work, my clients thought I was showing off (Well, I was). So after this one, there is only 2005 and then, I am current.
Hitting a flock of birds on take off is no fun, especially for the birds. We couldn’t tell whether our landing gear was up or down. We had to return to Dulles and fly over the tower so that they could tell us that the landing gear was down (but, was in locked in place?). As soon as we started preparing for a crash landing, we quit being upset about missing our connecting flight in LA. Much like some of the airplane movies, the captain came on the intercom and started telling us how well the plane was made. He said there was no way of knowing for sure whether the landing gear were locked in place (could have left that out), but, he was sure they were locked and we would be OK. Well, they were and we were.
Vault.com is one of those websites that evaluates all businesses. In 2004, they rated Arent Fox #1 in “quality of life” for law firms nation wide. That’s heady stuff! Maybe they liked our little red fox. I certainly do. Anyway, here’s 2004.
Thankful Christmas – 2004
It’s time to get started, no time to delay,
Holiday’s upon us, the year flew away.
It’s time to be thankful, for those who remember,
No presidential recount this time in December.
The Redskins, the Capitals, our teams are derided,
But, a champion appears, it’s DC United.
And baseball in the Capital, what a surprise,
Will the DC Council fumble, right before our eyes?
But enough of this chit-chat and things of that sort,
It’s time for serious business, time to report.
Our record’s intact, I mean that we traveled,
But, our trip to Hawaii, almost unraveled.
Taking off we hit birds, and that was really queer,
Especially, when you can’t raise your landing gear.
Second take off worked and Hawaii was a peach,
So was Portsmouth with RAJA, and the kids at Myrtle Beach.
And the Caribbean family cruise, with so much food it hurts,
Did you ever see a teenager eat four or five desserts?
So our traveling is done, but we still may be tardy,
Because this is the year for our Christmas party.
The house is taking shape, Carole’s at the helm,
Decorations, food and lists, lists, lists, and I am overwhelmed.
But I’ll get lots of guidance, and Carole will not fail,
Her homemaker competition is presently in jail.
The children are doing great, and grandchildren thrive,
They’re growing up so fast, now eighteen to five.
Grant’s ready for college and Brandon’s ready for girls,
Tyler ties opponents in knots, and Kristin jumps and twirls.
Josh is attacking computer foes, and successfully saving the earth,
Little Jack is so pleased with himself, and living for all that it’s worth.
Both Moms are doing great, they’re extraordinary gals,
Blanch elected tenant president by her O’Fallon pals.
Mary keeps in shape, both in mind and body,
While she is almost ninety, her energy is cum laude.
Good news for the firm, “Vault” ratings are out,
And for “quality of life,” of first we can tout.
The associates are happy and what’s really funny,
With all the good vibes, we’re still making money!
Arent Fox is quite well, straighter it’s standing,
With a little red fox to do all our branding.
And yes, a new logo we have unfurled,
We simply say, we’re “Smart in Your World.”
I think I will close, not a moment too soon,
Even with music, this ain’t much of a tune.
But the purpose was honest and good at heart,
Good wishes to all, but where do we start.
God bless our troops and all of our friends,
And to all of you, where your journey ends.
We are thinking of you, and with good cheer,
Merry Christmas to you and a Happy New Year!
Big Daddy’s Seventy-Fifth
In all professions, there are those who become legends. Major General Lawrence H. Williams, Big Daddy, was a legend in the JAG Corps and the Pentagon. Even as a Lieutenant Colonel, many things in the Pentagon only happened after Big Daddy’s approval. His temper was also well known. There were times when his temper got the best of him. Many times it was justified, once in a while, it was not.
I wrote this poem for his seventy-fifth birthday. There was a luncheon given by many of the officers who served under him. General Williams died a year later and his wife, Margaret, asked me to read the poem at the funeral reception.
This is one of my favorite poems in that I felt I captured a lot about this unique man in just a few lines. He had little sayings (always with a purpose), like, “if you saw the wood in front of you, it will warm you twice. First, when you cut it, and then, when you burn it. He also said, “Never wrestle with a pig because you will get dirty and the pig will enjoy it.”
When I was in the Pentagon working in the Administrative Law Division, all of the Army regulations were kept in three-ring binders (now everything is on line). Rather than take the whole binder, officers would just pull out the regulation they needed. Sometimes they got lost. One day, General Williams was looking for a regulation and it was missing. He let it be known that anyone removing a regulation from the binder would be fired. That got our attention.
He was a combat aviator during World War II flying missions in North Africa, Italy and France. On D-Day, he flew a glider loaded with troops inland from Normandy.
After his retirement, when someone would ask how he was doing, he would say, “quite well, thank you.” Then, after a pause, he would smile and say, “all things considered.”
Big Daddy’s Seventy-Fifth
Three quarters of a century, seventy-five years,
We’re gathered together to shout out our cheers.
He’s climbed to the top and the journey is done,
He’s enjoying the view in the warmth of the sun.
A man of all seasons, an adviser, a leader,
When placed under pressure, he never would teeter.
His accomplishments many, and quotes with a zig,
Like “sawing the wood” and “never wrestling with a pig.”
He could roar like a lion, and get wound up tightly,
He was mission oriented, and didn’t suffer fools lightly.
But, he admired the young JAG, the day-to-day grinder,
But whoa be the one who lifts the Reg from the binder.
Who flew a glider a half century ago?
Who excels at table tennis, I’ll bet you don’t know.
Who spent years in the Pentagon, most people would go batty,
You’re right, you guessed it, it’s our own Big Daddy.
So it’s Happy Birthday on the seventy-fifth year,
With Margaret at your side, she’s such a dear.
You’ve had a great life, a life not frittered,
And you’re doing quite well, thank you, all things considered.
It’s a German Thing
When I joined the Army, the JAG career management officer asked me where I would like to be assigned. I told him Fort Carson, Colorado. He said, “that’s in the Southwest, so put that down as your first choice.” I put down Southwest and they gave me my first choice by sending me to Fort Hood, Texas. Fort Hood was located right between Dallas and Houston (178 miles from each).
So, when it was time for my next assignment and I requested to go to the language school in Monterey, California to study German and then be assigned to Germany, you can imagine how surprised I was when it happened. My next door neighbor at Monterey (Fort Ord) was also studying German. They shipped him to Italy. Now, that’s more like it. He was an intelligence officer, and when we visited him in Italy, he was wearing Transportation Corps insignia. But that’s another story.
I was assigned to the 4th Armored Division with its headquarters located in Goeppingen (not too far from Stuttgart). Cooke Barracks had been a German flugplatz (airfield) during WW II. Goering was fond of the Goeppingen flugplatz and gave rousing speeches from the balcony of the officer’s club. I must interject that I am not an historian, but I heard the same story from so many drunks at the O’Club bar that there must be some truth in it.
All buildings in Germany are built to last forever and the quarters we were assigned to live in were no different. The building was substantial, consisting of three stories, with four apartments on each floor. You entered the building through one of the two massive stairwells. This is referred to as “stairwell living.”
Shortly after we moved in, one of our neighbors came down to explain to me that he was the senior officer of the building [SOB], and that he collected money each month to pay the putzfrau who cleaned the stairwells. Nobody wanted to be the SOB. He was also responsible for anything that went wrong in the building. But, it didn’t occur to this captain to ask me for my date of rank. So, for eight months, I dutifully paid him a small number of Deutchmarks for the putzfrau. His six-year-old son explained to me one day in the parking lot, that his dad was in charge of all of us. I just smiled. One day the SOB showed up in my office and said, “Rice, what’s your date of rank?” I told him and he said he would have the money box and the ledger to me within the hour. Rank has its privileges, but also its responsibilities. I became the SOB.
During a very bitter winter, the family right above us moved out. The apartment was due to be painted, so the German painters arrived with their paint and their beer and proceeded to give the apartment a new coat. When they finished, they left all of the windows open so the windows wouldn’t seal. After two days, we could no longer keep our apartment warm. I decided to go over to the post engineers, borrow the key to that apartment and close the windows.
Cooke Barracks was a very small installation and the post engineer was a second lieutenant. I entered the office and there were three German civilians in the front office. I explained that I was Captain Rice, the Senior Officer of the Building and that the painters had left the windows open and I needed a key to get in to the apartment and close the windows. They explained that only the lieutenant could give out a key and that he was in Stuttgart. I explained that my apartment was cold and I needed the key. One of the ladies got up and went into another room to brief her supervisor. She came back out and told me that the lieutenant would be back in two days and I should return at that time.
The friendly approach doesn’t always work with the Germans. It isn’t fair to stereotype, but on a number of occasions, I felt that my pleasant, friendly approach was being viewed as a sign of weakness. I then explained to them that as soon as they found a military officer senior to me to tell me that I couldn’t have the key, I would leave, but not before. The same woman got up and went in the back. Shortly, she and another German came out of the back. He ask me to explain the problem. After I explained, he said to all present, “Oh, he only wants to borrow the key. That is no problem.” The problem was the unnecessary elevation of my blood pressure.
On another occasion, a fellow officer flew me to Nuernberg and was supposed to pick me up at the end of the day. But the weather turned bad and I had to take the train back to Goeppingen. I took one train from Nuernberg to Stuttgart and then had to transfer. I knew the track number and was heading toward it when a train conductor asked where I was going. I told him Goeppingen and he directed me to a different track and told me to hurry. When I got to the track, I asked about Goeppingen and another conductor told me to get on.
By now, you have figured out that the train wasn’t going to stop in Goeppingen. Ordinarily, it would stop, but this day was a German holiday and it wasn’t even going to slow down or toot its horn. We were on our way to Augsburg in Bavaria. The good news was that I wasn’t the only one who had been misinformed. A young 16 year-old German was coming back from a skiing trip and he also had been directed to this train. We were told to get off in Augsburg and to find the conductor in the red hat. He would send us back to Goeppingen at no cost. I was pleased that the young lad was along, because he was fluent and could better explain our plight.
We got off in Augsburg and found the man in the red hat. My young friend was explaining our situation. The longer the conversation went on, the clearer it became that we had a superior/subordinate situation. Mr. Red Hat was in a position of authority and my spokesperson was probably a high school student. It was going down hill. Finally, I understood Red Hat to say, “All the children in Deutchland know that the snell train doesn’t stop in Goeppingen on holidays.” I immediately said, “Ich bin kein Kind aus Deutchland” (I am no child from Germany). He was startled. It was the first time that he realized that I understood what he had been saying. He looked at me in my Army green uniform and new major’s hat (scrambled eggs outranks red) and, after a pause, he only said one word. “Come.”
Well, we got our free trip back to Goeppingen and my young friend was probably thankful that I was along.
Some years later when I was at the Department of Transportation, I was invited over to the White House for a briefing on universal health care. The speaker was addressing all the countries with universal health care and explaining the different problems with each system. When he got to Germany, all he said was, “The German system works pretty well as long as all the participants are German.” Jawohl!
Year 2000 Holiday Report
In the year 2000, I had to prepare my Christmas poem around Thanksgiving. Carole and I were having a Christmas party and she wanted to send out the party invitations in the Christmas cards. My poem also goes in the cards. And the cards needed to be mailed the first week in December. By the time we tucked everything in the envelopes, they were probably overweight.
My daughter, Missy taught kindergarten in Florida. So, I had some fun with the chad problem where Floridians couldn’t seem to figure out how to vote. I thought that each kindergarten class could go home and teach their parents how to punch out a voting card. So much for staying apolitical.
I picked up Firestone as a client, because of the tread separation problem on the Ford Explorers. Year 2000 was a tough year for Firestone, but they survived and the brand name is still out there and respected as a value tire.
The good news is there are only three more catch-up Christmas poems remaining. The bad news is there are still two more after this one.
Year 2000 Holiday Report
It’s time to report to all of good cheer,
It’s not yet Thanksgiving, but my instructions are clear.
Get the poem out, and the rest of my list,
Forget about the ball, I could hit through the mist.
Someone’s quite organized, she’s cracking the whip,
Getting ready for our party, so I can’t let this slip.
So It’s greetings to all on this bright new dawn,
The 21st Century and Bubba is gone.
It’s an exciting time to be in DC,
Unless you love sports, then it’s “Oh woe is me.”
The year has raced by in incredible leaps,
Excitement abounds, but Congress just creeps.
Our family is good, both Moms doing great,
The kids are still scattered from state to state.
Grant’s nearing high school, but Brandon’s the feature,
He’s mastering the fifth grade, and Becky’s his teacher.
Missy’s also teaching, and Tyler’s into sports,
Kristin’s quite the cheerleader, and Florida’s out of sorts.
Missy’s kindergarten class now has a new goal,
Teaching Florida residents how to punch the right hole.
Paul and Sandy are the closest and seeing them is fun,
Josh is a big help with little Jack who’s one.
Two weeks in Europe on a Scandinavian tour,
Better than we read in Holland’s glossy brochure.
East Germany seemed familiar, something like before,
With people, cars and schnitzel, and beer forevermore.
Two day’s in St. Petersburg, gave us a sharp contrast,
Beauty and poverty together is a memory that will last.
The Thrift Shop is booming, and it’s becoming astuter,
No long hand written tags, it’s now all computer.
But she likes her Wednesday gang, they’re coming to our party,
They’ll gather by our Christmas tree, and drink and laugh so hardy.
Professionally, I’m doing great, my best year at the Fox,
And that was before the Firestone call, Wow, they’ve had their knocks.
We’re working the Firestone problem, one day up and then we dive,
It’s a tricky road to travel, but the Company will survive.
The Fox keeps getting bigger, talking merger, Boston bound.
If the Fox gets any bigger, it will surely chase the hound.
So let’s wrap this up, it’s been a great year,
Seeing friends at RAJA, and our future seems clear.
We’re enjoying our blessings, good health and good cheer
Have a wonderful Christmas and a Happy New Year!