Elderhostel Kotzebue Sonnet

In June 1997 I took an Elderhostel trip to Kotzebue, Alaska, above the Arctic Circle.  We learned all sorts of skills from our host's  native Alaskan friends, including the great salmon catch, where we took the fish from the nets, cleaned them and hung them to dry on what looked like large old-fashioned clothes drying racks.    

________________________

A Kotzebue Sonnet

The salmon run and never seem to stop.

We pull them from the sea in giant nets.

As lead line sinks, the float line rides on top.

We fish below a sun that never sets.

We chop off heads and then dissect the spine.

Our ulus* dive and tear through bloody fish.

We hang them up and say “they sure look fine!”

And smack them down for dinner’s tasty dish.

The next day on the tundra we see fruit,

And salad plants that grow on permafrost.

We munch upon the Arctic’s tasty loot,

Which seems to be devoid of bloody cost.

Is veggie life what I am headed for --

Or will I always be a carnivore?

Written at Kotzebue, June 1997

(c) 1997, Joan D. Levin

* The ulu is a special knife, usually made from a saw blade.  The semi-circular blade is usually set in a bone handle.

Elderhostel Trail Ride Song, 1997

In the summer of 1997 I took an Elderhostel trip riding horseback through the Sawtooth Mountains of Idaho under the supervision of Ricks College, a Mormon school in Rexburg, Idaho.  Elderhostel trips require that three things be taught, so these were history of the region, horse skills, and camping skills.  At our final "Banquet" everyone was asked to give a little talk and so I wrote this! And people sang along with the chorus!

Written for Last Night of Idaho Elderhostel, June 20, 1997

(Transcribed 12/13/08 from paper towels on which it was scribbled)

Tune: Boston Charlie

Now join me in this saga of Elderhostlers

Who went for a ride one day –

They started at Ricks College, to gain a bit of knowledge,

And this is the story of their stay!

Chorus: And did they ever return?

No they never returned!

After all the things they learned,

They will ride forever,

Through the streets of Rexburg,

Elderhostlers, who never returned!

Now Ruth taught them courses on caring for their horses,

And Dick spoke of history and plants –

And Larry taught them camp skills, from tent poles to canteen fills,

And never pitch your tent on hills of ants!

[Chorus]

They heard the sad story of the end of Nez Perce Glory,

Under mountain peaks, snowy and high,

And they loved a pooch named Blue, and they learned to sing straight through, 

Ghost Riders in the Sky!

[Chorus]

In camp they cooked their meals under Dick’s stern command,

And did the kitchen chores.

Then they heard Dick’s campfire lecture, lots of history, some conjecture,

Then retired to nurse their saddle sores!

[Chorus]

They rode horses in the mountains, through the canyons, cross the meadows,

And camped at Gilmore Ghost Town, grey and lone –

It was such a grand vacation, after due deliberation,

They decided not to go home!

[Chorus]

So when they got back to Rexburg, they staged a rebellion,

That would make Chief Joseph’s jaw go slack –

And each eager Elderhostler became a Larry-jostler,

And they said they would not give their horses back!

[Chorus]

Well, Larry said, “OK then, have it your own way then,

But in Rexburg you must remain!”

Now the Elderhostler riders have become Rexburg insiders,

And Ricks College will never be the same!

[Chorus]

Now John in yellow poncho, and Bob in straw sombrero,

Ride the Rexburg streets each day,

And June keeps making trouble, and for Lillian that goes double!

While Gloria and Nancy dance each night away!

[Chorus]

And Joan records this story, of Elderhostel Glory,

How they rode the mountains and the plains!

And how when it was all over, they were all in such clover,

That they never went home again!

[slightly different chorus here for the ending!]

And did they ever return?

No they never returned!

After all the things they learned,

They will ride forever,

Through the streets of Rexburg,

Elderhostlers, who never returned!

###

Owed to my Lawyer

Owed to my Lawyer

Now some stayed wide awake in class,

And some of us were dozing,

Whatever. What we didn’t learn,

Was how to do a closing.

Where papers fly and faint hearts die, 

The legal and numeric,

Can daunt the staunchest. (It’s a time,

When I become hysteric!).

Oh some may kvell for Dick ManDEL,

(Who’d have you call him MANdel),

But here’s a fact: to G. Petacque,

He cannot hold a candle!

Some find the rules of real estate,

Arcane, obtuse and borin’

But not Petacque, he’s got the knack,

From title search to Torrens!

You rate an A for closing day,

You made it seem like fun.

A virtuoso job, I’d say,

Like: Presto!  Change-o!  Done!

Well that’s what happens when you’re good,

They never see you sweat!

So many thanks for all your help,

For sure I won’t forget!

With best wishes, 

Signed: Joan Levin   11/5/96

Gerald (Gerry) Petacque handled the closing of my condo where I’d been renting for several years.     

(A few years later I  traded it for another condo in the building) 

Gerry died in 2008. https://www.chicagotribune.com/news/ct-xpm-2008-09-09-0809080800-story.html

Torrens is a system for title registration.  Not the one used for this transaction but it rhymes!

Warren Buffett, 1996 -- a link that's easier to read

In May, 1996, I went to Omaha for a Berkshire Hathaway shareholders meeting, where among other things, Warren Buffett entertained by playing the ukulele --- which he truly played remarkably well!  A virtuoso, in fact.

And we had this correspondence.

This is a poem I wrote and cover letter I sent him after the meeting, and also his response, newest first!

https://documentcloud.adobe.com/link/track?uri=urn%3Aaaid%3Ascds%3AUS%3A726e7f4c-9616-4883-a32c-c36c5ca27405

Warren Buffet Correspondence, 1996

I attended the Berkshire-Hathaway Annual Meeting in May, 1996.
A highlight of this meeting was a film of Mr. Warren Buffett playing the ukulele, accompanying a classical soprano.  It was a virtuoso performance and I wrote to express my appreciation.

This link has the correspondence and it is also below.

https://documentcloud.adobe.com/link/track?uri=urn%3Aaaid%3Ascds%3AUS%3A726e7f4c-9616-4883-a32c-c36c5ca27405 

________________________

My Olivetti Typewriter Attends Johns Hopkins

At Johns Hopkins School of Public Health in 1988-1989 I didn't have my own computer like everyone else.  I was writing all of my papers on an elderly Olivetti portable.   I got a paper back from a class with Dr. Fitzhugh Mullen, written either by Dr. Mullen or his assistant Dr. Mary Anderson.   It had a very nice grade but also a note that I should "euthanize my typewriter!" and this was my response!  

For Ruthanne DeWolfe, 1995

January 6, 1995

Ruthanne had some foot surgery requiring time in bed. Keebler Elves refer to Keebler Cookies I brought her along with some cute running socks!  Ruthanne is an accomplished musician as well as a serious runner and an awesomely effective lawyer!!  

~~~~~~~~~~~~

What are fleet and sweet and neat?
We know the answer: Ruthanne's feet!
They got a nip and and tuck today,
To straighten up toes gone astray!

So, briefly, our Ruthanne's domain,
Will be the Land of Counterpaane,
With pillows at her feet and head,
And many books yet to be read.

And busy neighbors (who can cook).
And phones a'ringing off the hook,
The folks for whom she does so much,
Will have a chance to show their touch.

The "Keebler Elves" and Joanie too,
Hope these tunes will tickle you.
The socks are for another day,
To practice pleasant hours away.

No better tribute, goodness knows,
For ten courageous tippy toes!

With lots of love and good wishes for rapid healing!

Joan

For Andrea Monsees, 1995

Around 1995 I gave Andrea, a lawyer friend, a trendy red "Ericofone" phone for her birthday, with this poem.  We were having all sorts of international issues at the time, and the "Red Phone" at the time was reputedly the phone where the President of the U.S. could call other national leaders for real emergencies, like a wayward A-Bomb.  The names are various political figures of the day.  The "Supremes" are, of course, Justices of the U. S. Supreme Court. 

Dear Andrea:

In our fair city Bill and Ron, 
Dick and Gerry all have said,
That nothing really does the job,
Better than a phone that's red.

When troubles come they dial it up, 
The Kremlin horns go ding-a-ling, 
And over wild Atlantic waves, 
Official voices start to sing.

A bomber that has lost its way?
A missal shot? Think nothing of it.
A red phone you must have today,
And like our leaders, learn to love it.

So even if the walls are beige,
Ecru pale, or white so pure, 
In this tumultuous day and age,
A red phone is, well, de rigeur.

So use it for emergencies, 
Or at any time at all.
For all you know, it just may be,
"The Supremes" who languish for your call!

And here is a Pantoum I wrote for Andrea  (see the post about Mark Strand for more on the Pantoum form)

For Susan Dweck in Sarasota, around 1995

I visited Susan Dweck in Sarasota around 1995, and gave her a nice little set of binoculars to check the view on the beach!  Was this around 1995 or so?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Visiting with Susan, What a nifty view!

Sunsets on the Gulf side, Bayside sunrise too!

Birds in flight or standing, or walking on the shore,

Pelicans and herons, who could ask for more?

Theater or the opera, where divas make us sigh,

Check out all those details, lost to naked eye,

And likewise at the matches, watch the players’ faces,

(Or check out all the horsies, if you hit the races!)

Jeepers creepers, peepers will have a lot to do!

Hope this small house-warmer will hit the spot for you!

May all your days be sunny, and all your serves be aces!

And health and happiness abound in this lovliest of places!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harold Bloom; Yale's Bad Boy of English Literature, 1995

I wrote this Poem about Harold Bloom, the 'bad boy of English literature' at Yale.  I wrote it for Nancy Spector's birthday in January with a copy of Bloom's newest book 

But then I modified it for Adam Preskill too and gave him the same book when he went to Harvard to be an English Literature major, and I gave him a copy of that book as well. 

Thus a rare recycle of this poem!
But how much can you say about Harold Bloom?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For Nancy, on her birthday, January 6, 1995:

Love him or hate him? Give him hell? Give him room?

He's notable, quotable, Yale's Harold Bloom.

Attention, instructors, curriculum plannin',

Ignore, at your peril, the roar of his Canon!

Who's "in" as the century comes to an end?

Who's "out" of the reading lists teachers defend?

Helena has gained a year of maturity,

Half a century of progress, and more in futurity,

Discernment and taste now control her selection;

May she be ever Blooming, in total perfection!

A stand-in for posies in winter's dark gloom,

Is this birthday bouquet of the flowering of Bloom!

--------------

Adam's with changed lines for June 10, 1995 were --

Love him or hate him? Give him hell? Give him room?

He's notable, quotable, Yale's Harold Bloom.

Attention all students, a term paper plannin'

Ignore, at your peril, the roar of his Canon!

Who's "in" as the century comes to an end?

Who's "out" of the reading lists teachers defend?

Fair Harvard awaits you as you reach maturity,

Milestones reached glowingly, more in futurity.

And as you advance in your upward direction,

May you be ever Blooming, in total perfection.

Instead of some posies to clutter your room,

Here's your laureate bouquet of the flowering of Bloom

I'll be thinking of you June 1!!!

Congratulations and lots of love!

The 3218 Davenport Song, 1995

The "3218 Davenport Street" Song

Joan D. Levin Copyright 1995

To Tune of "Memories" from Cats 

This is about our house in Washington, D.C.

where we lived from 1979 - 1995.  Terri Robinson was the Real Estate Agent for buying and selling.

____________

See There! Why, it's Terri's for Sale Sign!

Out in front of a fine house, that you surely should buy!

It's a red brick colonial with a slate shingle roof;

And the price is not too high!

Eight rooms, with four bedrooms and bathrooms,

Plus a sunroom and basement where the kids can have fun,

On a nice street, with trees and grass and parking galore,

And with lots of light and sun.

---------------------------------------------

Lots of room to dig a pool or throw a huge garden party,

Your friends will drool, they'll all say you're cool,

And you'll feel like such a smarty!

---------------

Rock Creek, nicely graces your doorstep,

Bus and Metro only footsteps away!

With great shopping this is the best location in town,

Write that contract! Don't delay!

---------------------------------------------

Write that contract, don't be doubtful,

Now is no time for stalling.

Someone else will snap it up, while interest rates are falling!

-------------------------------------------

Buy it! You will never regret it!

Don't be shy now, give the agent a ring!

When you're living on Davenport, you've really arrived!

You'll be living, like a king!

---------------------------------------------

Thirty, two eighteen on Davenport,

Sign these papers, and you'll move in today! 

When you own it you'll understand what happiness is!

Don't let this one get away!

------------------

Public Health Verses, 1982, 1988, 1989

PID (Pelvic Inflammatory Disease) written while at Public Citizen Health Research Group

The worst, as many docs agree,

Is that disease called PID;

Each year three-quarter million strong,

New victims to their treatments throng.

They crowd the clinic waiting rooms

With tender tummies shrieking doom.

From Santa Cruz way up to Bangor,

With ne’er a thought of Margaret Sanger,

They threw their diaphragms away,

And lived to sore regret that day.

Now JAMA cheers the condom home,

And be it ever-so-humble: foam.

If rubber is your thing, rejoice!

It is the birth control of choice!

Stop babies, and be ever free, 

Of nasty, yukky PID!

© Joan D. Levin 1982 

Written when I was at HRG and read Kelaghan et al, “Barrier-Method Contraceptives and Pelvic Inflammatory Disase,” 248 JAMA 184, 1982.

                   --------------------------

Public Health History  -- written while at Johns Hopkins School of Hygiene and Public Health.

Even now we take our lumps, 

Shutting down those Broad Street pumps,

Listen up, your chimney sweepers, 

When it’s cancer, finder’s keepers! 

But when the Health Inspector knocks, 

The public says “Don’t gore my ox!”

We can count ‘em, slice ‘em,  dice ‘em.

Educate ‘em, good-advice em!

But mind you well the public balks,

And hands in pockets, money talks. 

© Joan D. Levin 1988

____________________________

For Dean Edyth Schoenrich, with thanks for helping me into a beautiful salmon-colored hood and a wonderful Johns Hopkins education.  May 25, 1989

Salmon stands for Public Health,
But every gal and fella,
Who earned a hood last night must think:
"Could this be Salmonella?"

That same infectious dish that graced,
Our Epi I lab table,
Is brought to mind by salmon hood,
How else translate this label?

Somewhere the wag who dreamed this up,
Mus chuckle at the pun,
And I do too, It's always best,
To end a job with fun!

So thank you for a super time,
I loved the convocation,
Keep hot things hot and cold things cold,
Lukewarm won't heal a nation!

Joan

###

Farewell to Eve Bargmann 1984

Written for Eve Bargmann, M.D.
(who left HRG 7/12/84)

We're sad to say goodbye to Eve,
As she prepares to take her leave,
At HRG she'd be our pick,
But Health Group folk are never sick!

So if we'd feel her healing fingers,
We must all become malingerers,
Inventing many ills infernal,
To publish in New England Journal!

For instance, Lori's blistered fingers,
Occupational disease of budding folk singers,
And Peter, how he does affright us,
With frequent bouts of Springsteenitis!

Carol can't breathe. Here are the rumors,
She crushed by mail from eager consumers,
Amour is reduced to quivering heap,
Crying Osborne! Osborne!* in her sleep!

And Florence wanders in a daze,
Bemused by reams of resumes,
And Susan needs her health to face,
The never-ending paper chase.

Allen's exhausted, that's what we're betting,
From all that Bjork-Shiley Strutting and Fretting,**
And Henry, suffering from pre-lunch jitters,
Mixed 80 aspirin in his fritters!

And Ben is starving, he should have been warier,
Before feeding his blintzes to his Bedlington terrier!
As for Joan, alas, alack,
She's having a Big Mac Attack!

But what of Sid? He's ill from his quirk,
Of sampling pills to see if they work!
Do all these patients make you queasy?
You can't get rid of us that easy!

From Joan, 7/12/84

*Osborne was the first successful example of a line of portable computers that we used at the time.

**Reference here is to the Bjork-Shiley cardiac strut which he was researching.