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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!
Sometime Around Christmas 1997
No Christmas party in 1997. So we didn’t have to send out the Christmas cards early (with invitations) . And then, with Disney World, time just got away from us. I think I wrote this poem in mid-January and we mailed out the Christmas cards toward the end of the month. This is an excellent way to find out who the people are who are only sending you a card because you sent them one.
Just ten years ago and it all seems foreign to me. It did remind me that both of our mothers were present for Paul’s wedding. That was no small fête. I guess that means Paul and Sandy have been married for just over ten years. I was married right before my 21st birthday and I had to get my mother to sign a consent form so I could get married. What a crazy world.
Sometime Around Christmas, 1997
It all seems so fuzzy, I can’t see through the haze,
This poem should be written, but I’m still in a daze.
It was a great year, and we had a blast,
But it galloped right by us, just too darn fast.
We saw Palm Springs and Scottsdale, Prescott and Rapid City,
We were all over Alaska and boy was it pretty.
Back to Mizzou for a law school gathering,
Great to see classmates, yet only a smattering.
This poem was a casualty of the events of the year,
Too much packing, unpacking and over bookings to fear.
But as wild as it got and as it spun and twirled,
In December we trekked to Walt Disney World.
So we’re exhausted, but smiling, it was quite a treat,
To see Disney at Christmas, just to walk down each street.
So this is my best shot, my promise, what-the-hey,
You’ll be reading this poem by Ground Hog Day.
The Ross’s are in Arizona and Becky is still teaching,
But with Grant in her class, it’s a wonder she’s not screeching.
The kids are doing great, enjoying sports and school,
Except Grant broke his arm and Brandon thinks he’s cool.
Big year for the Hansens with Terry’s promotion,
But with moving to Florida came all the commotion.
With Tyler in wrestling and Missy house selling,
Kristin’s playing princess, that’s so foretelling.
This is Paul’s year, all other things aside,
At thirty years of age, he took himself a bride.
Married in September with Sandy forever more,
Both hugged Blanche and Mary, then off to the Eastern shore.
The Firm is doing well, another banner year,
So many new lawyers, I can’t keep them clear.
We’re converting from a partnership to – oh, I can’t remember,
I will no longer be a partner, I’ll soon be a member.
Our spirits are running high, and Carole still has her looks,
But she has the basement tilting with shelves and shelves of books.
She get them from her mother, from friends and from the stores,
She finds them at the Thrift Shop, along with friends that she adores.
We’re loyal Redskin fans – we show up every game,
The only thing we wish is that the team had done the same.
I think I better quit, what else can I say,
If I keep on scribbling, I’ll miss Ground Hog Day.
We wish you a very merry
Ground Hog Day!
P.S. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year
SOLO in Dallas
You can’t imagine how wonderful I feel when I see our Nation honoring member of our Armed Forces. Regardless of how individuals feel about Iraq, no one is taking it out on our fine soldiers. It wasn’t that way during the Vietnam War.
I never understood it, but during Vietnam, people despised us because we wore the uniform of our country. The war and the uniform were indistinguishable. We didn’t make policy, we just honored the oath we took to serve our country. It may have been worse for JAG officers. The military appeals court was extremely liberal (and goofy) and we had to advise commanders, in certain cases, that prosecution was not a good idea, because we couldn’t get a conviction or the conviction would not survive on appeal.
When the commanders were called upon during the Vietnam War to explain why discipline was so poor, many of them blamed JAGs and the non supportive military legal system. There were a lot of better reasons, but that was the world I found in the summer of 1971 when I departed Vietnam and started my next assignment as an instructor at the JAG School in Charlottesville, Virginia.
The JAG generals in the Pentagon had explained to Colonel John Jay Douglass, the School’s Commandant, that the JAG Corps had a crises in credibility. Colonel Douglass was tasked to come up with materials to explain to the Army the military legal system and how they could make it work for them. Drastic times call for drastic measures. Somewhere around forty graduate students who arrived in August found their school year pushed off into late October so that they could assist in preparing the necessary materials to address the crises in credibility.
By the time the World Wide JAG Conference met in Charlottesville in October, we had prepared “The Legal Guide for Commanders” and a number of other pamphlets including a Soldiers Guide. The materials were a big success and The Legal Guide for Commanders is still a best seller. These materials (along with the end of the war) made the crises in credibility disappear.
Another carefully conceived plan was to set up a special course for senior officers to educate them on the military legal system and to teach them just like we teach our JAG students. The course, which would be three days long, was called the Senior Officers Legal Orientation (SOLO) Course. The original course was limited to colonels and we packed the course with thirty from all over the country. It was an instant success.
It was taught by four senior JAG officers. Lieutenant Colonel Hugh Overholt and Major Dick Boller taught the criminal law side and Lieutenant David Fontanella and I taught the administrative law side. We were all career officers and could relate to our “student.” One of the colonel students was a post commander and had some labor issues he wanted to discuss. Neither Dave nor I had any expertise in labor law. So, we brought in an extremely bright captain named Barney Adams to answer the questions. His answers were impeccable. As an impartial observer and a student of teaching technique, I thought Barney was brilliant. But when the critiques came in, we all did well, except Barney. Most all said that the captain had a bushy mustache and needed a haircut! Barney’s mustache and hair were within Army Regulations, but it really didn’t matter. They were definitely too long and bushy for our “students.” The lesson was it really doesn’t matter how good you are if your audience can’t stand how you look. That was Barney’s last SOLO (Barney did go on to become a successful law professor at Case Western Reserve School of Law – no hair cut requirements).
We gave a SOLO every other month and after about three, we had commanders calling in and asking us to bring the SOLO to their installation. So we took SOLO on the road. We took it to Fort Lewis, Washington, Fort Hood, Texas and Fort Sill, Oklahoma. By then, we realized that SOLO didn’t work as well in the field. First, it was too close to the flag pole. Students kept receiving messages regarding problems with their unit or office and they would get up and disappear for a while. The bigger problem, however, was that at Fort Sill, for example, every officer would agree with whatever the Fort Sill Commanding General had to say. There could be no free exchange of ideas. That may be a good career move, but it wasn’t what we were trying to accomplish.
It sure is taking me a long time to get to Dallas. As you might expect, it was a side trip off of our Fort Hood SOLO class. When we finished the classes, we could spend the night at Fort Hood and then take a puddle jumper to Dallas and fly home, or take a rental car to Big D for the night and fly out early. We took the second option.
By the time of the Fort Hood SOLO, Fran Gilligan had replaced Dick Boller on the team. Upon arrival in Dallas, the two colonels went off to find some cultural event and Fran and I started looking for some fun. We ended up going to a place called the Dog Patch. All of the bar maids were dressed like Daisy Mae from the comic strip, Lil’ Abner. They were walking around barefoot. This place would never survive an OSHA inspection. Anyway, we had a good time and shut the place down about 1:00 AM. Everything seemed shut down. We finally ended up at a place called the Playgirl Club next to Love Field.
We walked in and there was all kinds of noise. We couldn’t see anything because of a big tarp hanging by the door. Some sweet young thing collected our cover charge which entitled us to two free drinks and live entertainment. We paid and walked in. The place was empty! The bartender was showing a loud raucous movie on the other side of the tarp. We laughed at how we had been snookered. When we ordered our drinks, we asked about the live entertainment. She said, “Coming right up,” and disappeared into the back of the bar. Fran and I are now convinced that she went into the back and woke up the dancer.
The waitress came back with our drinks. The bartender shut off the movie and flipped a switch illuminating a stage right in from of us (we had the best seats in the house!). Then, some scantily dressed gal came wandering out of the back. She climbed up on the stage and posed herself on a piano bench that was covered by an artificial leopard skin rug. As the music started, she raised her arm into the air, then there was a crash and she disappeared! Both Fran and I looked to see if the bartender had seen what happened. He was nowhere. Fran and I stared at each other. We were pretty sure she had fallen off the back of the stage, but we were in a strange town, in a strange bar at two in the morning. Regardless, we felt compelled to help her. If we were being set up, so be it. As the song continued, we climbed up on the stage and peered into the abyss behind the stage. We couldn’t see her. Finally, we asked if she was OK. She said, “I thank so.” We asked if she could get up. She said, “I thank so.” Then we saw her climbing back on the stage. She smiled. We smiled. We went back to our seats and she finished her dance. The song was over. Overall, she probably danced for less than thirty seconds. Then, she wandered toward the back of the bar. We decided that we had had enough excitement for one night and got out of there.
The next day, the colonels asked if we had had a good time in Big D. We said, “We thank so.”
I checked with the JAG School and 36 years later, SOLO is still going strong. The School gives the course five times a y
ear and it is now four and a half days in length. Each class had 50 students and it is a mandatory class for all brigade and separate battalion commanders. It has sold the rest of the Army on the JAG Corps. Is that a success story? I thank so!