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!
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The Millennium Poem *
While called the Millennium poem, it reports on what happened in 1999. We celebrated our 40th wedding anniversary. And, as this is the end of 2007, that means in another year and a half, we will be celebrating 50!
We took our first Tauck Tour (Canadian Rockies). We were blown away by the Rockies and Tauck. Since then, we have used them to go to Australia, Hawaii and Ireland, along with a number of other places.
You just have to humor me regarding those things that rhyme with Millennium. I hope you find and enjoy the humor.
The Millennium Poem *
We’re counting down to the new Millennium,
and standing tall like a large delphinium.
(Hey, give me a break – it’s not easy to find a word
that rhymes with millennium – would you have
preferred condominium?).
It’s been a great year for the whole Rice clan,
We’ve expanded and prospered and eaten our bran.
No major medicals, I report with a wink,
Steady ain’t so bad, when the options all stink.
All the grandchildren are in school, with the exception of one,
And, they’re brighter than their gramps, that’s not a big stun.
Paul and Sandy had a baby, perhaps you haven’t heard,
He’s a beautiful, pleasant boy, named Paul Jackson the III.
While the kids and moms are spread all over this nation,
We made sure we saw them all, cause love you can’t ration.
There was Disney in December and RAJA in KC,
September in the desert and January at high sea.
But, the Canadian Rockies was the high point of the year,
When God directed beauty, he put his finger here.
With water falls and glaciers and mountains capped with snow,
The panoramic vista will make you deep down glow.
Arent Fox is still growing and doing things right,
Merged with a patent office, space will be tight.
Starting major construction on the seventh floor,
A great big conference room and lots, lots more.
Our culture is consensus, we always act as one,
With so many strong views, I’m surprised anything gets done.
What made this year so special, as we move toward double O,
Is Carole and I passed forty, that’s four zero don’t you know.
We started out in law school, then took on the Army life,
We raised our loving family and pushed through all the strife.Living forty years together, we’re ready for the Millennium,We celebrate our fortieth and think of all our friends,
Forty more sounds real good, but not in a condominium.
You’ve added so much to our lives and as the poem ends,
We wish you all the joys of life, good will and peace on earth,
May this Christmas bring you happiness with gaiety and mirth.
* Hopefully, you won’t see another one this bad for a thousand years.
Retiring from the Fox
I have two more days in the office before I’m retired-retired (First Army, then Arent Fox). I am a short timer. That’s an expression we used in the military for someone about to get out or be reassigned. You hear it all the time in combat areas. “I’m so short, I can’t carry on a long conversation.” “I’m so short, that when I sit down my boots no longer touch the ground.” In Vietnam, soldiers would carry around short-timer calenders and would mark off each day.
I haven’t done anything like that. The Fox has just been a great place for me. Fifty-five years of age and never had been in private practice and they took me in. Now, fourteen years later, they are going to let me retire? Is there something I’m missing? I noticed I didn’t get a gold watch. The answer to retiring at Arent Fox has to do with combining years as a partner with one’s age. Those two numbers have to total 75. So I made it not on years as a partner, but by being a gray beard.
It’s funny, all my friends who work want to know what I am going to do. Of course, none of my retired friends ever inquire. And that is what I tell my working friends. The other day, a friend of mine told me that after I retired from the Fox, I could probably get a job teaching. I told him I was sure I could, but why would I want to? I just want to play. This blogging is play for me. You never have to set an alarm clock to blog.
I spent three years phasing out of Arent Fox. The first year, I worked about 75% of the time. The second year, I worked 50% and this last year about 30% of the time. That meant that this last year I was only working two days a week. I recommend this approach to anyone who is wondering what he or she is going to do when retired. You get three workdays a week to find out. The phase-out’s main purpose is not to make me feel comfortable in retirement. That’s just a side benefit. The main purpose is to ensure that my clients don’t wake up one day and find out I’m gone. Over the three-year period, they are transitioned over to another partner who picks up on the days that I am not there. And, if all goes well, the clients remain with the Fox.
The Fox is a great law firm. There have been questions raised recently as to whether we are too friendly or enjoy ourselves too much to be an AM LAW 200 law firm. Many of the others are stoned faced and dreary. Well, we do enjoy what we’re doing, but that doesn’t mean that we aren’t working hard and getting great results for our clients. Our slogan is “Smart in Your World.” We picked that up from what our clients said about us. Please excuse us if we have a good time while we are working hard and getting great results.
If sometime in the future, I become restless and start thinking about getting a job, I think I would like to be a greeter at Wal-Mart. Then again, I would probably have to learn what aisle everything is on. And, then there’s all that standing. Blogging requires no standing.
A Christmas in Transition – 2007
As most of you know, I write a Christmas poem every year and this is the first Christmas since I started writing my blog. I have posted a lot of old Christmas poems from previous years. In those cases, I always felt the need to explain what was going on at that time. As this poem is current, it isn’t necessary. Below is my Christmas report for 2007.
A Christmas in Transition – 2007
It’s time to report on a year of transition,
Preparing for the future, the key to our mission.
Carole’s facing surgery and Jack’s to retire,
Trudging through ’07, dodging the mire.
We made it a good year, that was the trick,
We came out a lot better that OJ or Vick.
Carole’s a real trooper, but her knees cause her pain,
By continuing status quo, there is nothing to gain.
So it’s surgery in January, the answer to her pleas,
A partial replacement in both of her knees.
If all goes as planned, it will be a new dawn,
Before you know it, she’ll be mowing the lawn.
Jack’s truly retiring. It’s really the bomb,
He’ll be spending his time on ricequips dot com.
He’s written 60 blogs before retiring,
There’s poems, critiques, nothing very inspiring.
But he thinks he’s funny, though you may scoff,
It keeps him off the streets, when he’s not playing golf.
We did RAJA in Phoenix, with Mary and Becky close by,
Shades of Green, Disney and a Leadbetter School, how sly,
Carole’s 50th Reunion, one of four trips home,
A cruise to Alaska, yes, we did roam.
She medicated her knees with shots and pills,
Stayed with the basics, avoided the frills.
Life comes with sorrow, reality has its sting,
Carole lost her brother, Bob passed in the spring.
Diagnosed around Christmas, the news was stunning,
Hardly time to say goodbye, where cancer takes to running.
The children are doing well, jobs, schooling and stuff,
But in the grandparents’ eyes, we don’t see them enough.
Mary’s ninety-two and Blanche two years shy,
Blanche celebrated ninety, with a tear in her eye.
For we surprised her at her party, it was a lot of fun,
Carole hugged and kissed her, I dialed 911.
As we’re about to retire, and travel?, you bet,
Our emotions trumped reason and we got a pet.
A Sheltie named Nikki, she seems very smart,
But puppies make mistakes, right from the start.
She’s been easy to train, but keeps us guessing,
She’s brought joy to the house, she’s such a blessing.
With a new shed and gazebo, the house is complete,
We’re ready for the future, we’re up on our feet.
We stand at the beginning of 2008,
Changes are coming, they should really be great.
We think of friends and loved ones, we wish you good cheer,
Have a Very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.
That’s What I Love About This Country
In 1975, there was a sitcom on ABC-TV called “Hot L Baltimore.” It was a comedy about a seedy Baltimore hotel (the “E” in the hotel sign was burned out), and the people who lived there. There were prostitutes, illegal aliens and probably the first gay couple in a TV sitcom. Norman Lear produced it and it lasted only one season.
In one episode, a very likable, hard working Hispanic laborer (who lived in the hotel) got a traffic ticket and the next thing you know, he is about to be deported. According to the plot, he had a legitimate reason for being permitted to stay in this country (my memory is vague on that issue). The Immigration judge was not willing to listen to his lawyer and things looked bleak. Then, one of the hotel prostitutes recognized the judge as one of her regular customers. She was able to persuade the judge not to deport her friend. As the show was closing, the prostitute announced, “That’s what I love about this country. The system works!”
Some years back, a young Russian woman (yes, she had a green card) would ride to work with our carpool. She was proud of her Russian heritage and even though she had been in this country long enough to apply for citizenship, she had decided to remain a citizen of Russia. I talked to her about becoming a US citizen and she would politely tell me that she was happy with her situation.
Shortly after 9/11, she told me that when the terrorists attacked the World Trade Center and the Pentagon, she felt they were attacking her country. And, at that time, she decided to become a US citizen.
The paperwork is somewhat daunting. Eventually she found the necessary document, filed the paperwork and met with an Immigration’s examiner. He required one additional document which she provided the next day. She was told she would hear from them shortly. A month went by. Three months went by. After about six months, I volunteered to call and find out what was the hold up. The Immigration people I called were alway polite, but were never in a position to answer my questions. They did not have her records. I asked if I could contact the people who had the records and was told that that was impossible. “If they were answering the phones all day, they wouldn’t get any work done.” They advised that they would forward my inquiry to the people with the records. It was like Catch 22. I could call and have a polite, friendly conversation with someone who had no information on the matter and when I hung up, I had accomplished zip. This went on for a couple of months.
Then, I realized that I knew an Immigration judge. Wayne Iskra was a former JAG and a good friend. I finally had the opportunity to sit down with him and explain my friend’s plight. When I was done, Wayne smiled and said, “I was afraid your friend was getting ready to be deported.” I guess I wasn’t the first to ask a favor. Wayne took the information and said he would call me. A few days later, he called and said everything was in order and how would she like to be sworn in the next week. Wayne would personally swear her in.
And that’s what happened. She was sworn in the following Tuesday. At the end of the ceremony (which was just for her), I thought to myself. That’s what I love about this country. The system works!
Christmas – 1998
We’ve been to Disney World more times than you can count on both hands. We’ve been there with our children, with our children and parents, with our children and grandchildren and by ourselves. There is no angle of the castle that we haven’t shot and if I had to explain my feelings about Disney World to a panel of doctors, they would have me committed. In 1998, we gathered a crowd and went to Disney World.
I also fell in love with the Bombardier Neighborhood Vehicle and got NHTSA to publish a vehicle standard for low speed vehicles. It was the perfect vehicle to buzz around a retirement village.
The good news is that there are only four more Christmas poems in the queue. Of course, I just got through writing this year’s poem, but that doesn’t count.
Christmas 1998
The Christmas card’s ready, we’re decorating the house,
The card shows our family, and also a mouse.
It was Disney World in June, thirteen of us in all,
We gathered at the Polynesian, determined to have a ball.
The temperature was really hot, but Carole and I stayed cool,
The family met each night for chow, then gathered round the pool.
From log rides to fireworks, we heard the children squeal,
But I think I would go crazy, with one more character meal.
Carole started the year shaky, her heart was running wild,
Two hundred beats a minute, would cause one to get riled.
But the doctors performed procedures, using monitors and wires,
Her heart returned to normal, we’ll see what next transpires.
Carole finished the year strong, with only a slight limp,
She missed a step and broke a bone, my she’s such a simp.
But she’s still our Carole, busy with her books,
Enjoying much the Thrift Shop, fantastic when she cooks.
Jack had a great year for sheer satisfaction,
A new type of vehicle was the attraction.
Low-speed vehicles that go twenty-five,
Don’t need an air bag and all that jive.
Retired people in NVs *** don’t really need the speed,
After a year of haggling, the government agreed.
The client’s quite happy, their product is the best,
A glossy brochure to follow, sent upon request.
Another new client builds a walk-in van,
Now building its chassis is part of the plan.
It’s a ten time expansion coming out of the haze,
And Jack’s going to lead through the regulatory maze.
Arent Fox keeps expanding, could we really grow more?
There was a simple answer, just add on a floor.
Our Moms are soon arriving, the holiday is special,
But come the third of January, we’re climbing on a vessel.
We’re going island hopping, until we blow a fuse,
We’ll be down in the Caribbean, basking on a cruise.
You want to know about the cruise, what’s the best and what’s worse,
Well, wait till next year’s card, and I’ll tell you in a verse.
*** Bombardier Neighborhood Vehicle
TV Commercials – Can You Hear Me Now?
I like TV commercials. I know that sounds weird, but I carefully look at each new one. After I have seen it once, I may have no further use for it. As soon as I see Mr. Clean, I move on. But, I keep watching for that special one I may enjoy.
This used to cause me some discomfort during the Super Bowl. I didn’t want to miss any of the game and I didn’t want to miss any of the new commercials. As soon as I would see a repeat commercial, I would race out of the room. Now, with the ability to pause my TV, it will be a more enjoyable experience.
I enjoyed the “Can you hear me now?” commercials from Verizon. I have Verizon and as much as I enjoy the commercials, I could take that fellow to a few places where my Verizon phone doesn’t work. For example, the hospital at Walter Reed. Now, I know it is a massive building with good reasons for poor reception. I wouldn’t mind the reception problem if everyone else had the same problem. But, I see all kinds of people talking on their cell phones. Mine says, “No Service.”
I don’t think I have selected products based upon commercials. When I look at the Capital One commercials (“What’s in your wallet?”), I always say, I would never use that product. But, I probably wouldn’t use Capital One regardless of their commercials. Getting 30 pieces of mail from them each month may have jaded me.
I think after watching the commercial, the viewer should at least know the name of the product. That’s about all I know about advertising. I do think it is stupid to have your product used by someone that everybody finds contemptuous. There is a Snickers’ commercial where a bunch of people dressed up in costumes are in front of a convenience store. The first fellow says, “They were out of Snickers bars.” The second fellow (who is dressed like a Viking) screams “No!” and at the same time picks up a trash can and throws it at a car in the parking lot (I would feel better if they told me it was his car). Then the first fellow says, “But they did have Snickers with dark chocolate.” Whereupon, the Viking fool screams “Yes!” and throws another trash can at the same car doubling the damage. He then starts woofing down the Snickers like some kind of animal.
This is the moment when I scratch my head and ask, “Is this how Snickers want to portray their customers, as vandalizing buffoons?” I guess they don’t care. They just want me to know they have dark chocolate. Well, I like Snickers bars and am probably not so offended that I will stop eating them. I just wish the commercial would have ended with a blue-flashing light rolling up.
Long Time Redskin Fan
After watching yesterday’s loss, I just felt I needed to sit down and write about the Redskins. I think what happened to Sean Taylor was tragic, but I am not sure it had much to do with yesterday’s loss. The loss looked so much like other losses this year. Two minutes left to go and we have the ball and the lead. We spent the next two minutes trying not to lose, rather than trying to win. The Bills had ten men up at the line of scrimmage and we just plowed into them using up their time outs. All we needed was one first down and the game was ours, but we just plowed into the defensive mass using up their time outs. Well, we tried not to lose and it didn’t work. We lost on a last play field goal. It was disheartening.
The poem below doesn’t spend anytime on yesterday’s game. It just made me feel good to express my thoughts on the past years.
Long Time Redskin Fan
I’m a Redskin fan, that’s my claim and my cross,
I’m elated with a win, and despondent with a loss.
I’m doing better now, and it’s not so confusing,
It’s easier to take when you expect they’ll be losing.
I go back aways, when George Allen said, “Dang,”
“The future is now,” with the over-the-hill gang.
With Sonny and Billy and stomachs galore,
We’d push down the field, and somehow we’d score.
Then came the glory years, with tremendous highs,
With the Hogs, and Joe Gibbs and the Super Bowl prize.
Three times the champs, the battle cry rally
But the high is now gone, we’ve skidded to the valley.
Jack Kent Cooke’s will was really a boner,
It cost us two years just to find an owner.
Confusion reigned supreme, it really was a churner,
We desperately needed to fire Norve Turner.
Marty Schottenheimer was a gem, but no one could see,
We swapped him for the Ball Coach, and floundered at sea.
Spurrier was a disaster and clueless to boot,
He went back to college, where he could golf and recruit.
Then our prayers were answered, Joe Gibbs came back,
Successful at NASCAR, but gave up the track.
Hired high powered assistants to run the show,
While it just hasn’t worked, we still love our Joe.
Somewhere in the transition, we just blew a fuse,
From a team trying to win, to one trying not to lose.
It just hasn’t worked, the numbers are clear,
I’m tired of saying, wait till next year.
But, I will be cheering, I love the team,
My hopes have been lowered, but not my dream.
Stinking TV comments, I don’t give a hoot,
I’ll cheer on my team, with my finger on mute.
Go Skins!