A Seasonal Odyssey

It was the week before Christmas, and all through the Square The hordes had departed, the sidewalks were bare. The cranes from the subway had taken their flight. And even the gatehouse was closed for the night. (Inside it, the gatemice were snoring space. Though they didn't, it's true, have a whole lot of space.) Not a yell or a whimper, a drum or tape-player Was heard from the depths of Holworthy or Thayer. The deans and their cohorts had left for points South And those left behind were too down in the mouth To join up with the crowds crushing in at the door To buy gifts for their families at Store 24. Those errands aren't ours, though; our shopping is through; We're ready to make our deliveries to you.

If or our own Derek Bok, here's an envelope, scaled; Inside it says only, "We've narrowed the field." But we heard just last night, and we think it just keen That he's picked Lech Walesa as Faculty Dean. To Henry Rosovsky, some fruit salad's come: His Core's found in apples; his new chair's a plum. Hugh Culkins--we bring a Hey Hey and Ho Ho. Just one more reminder: That's stock's got to go. To veep Robin Schmidt and George Putnam as well On Mass Hall's behalf we'll just bid you farewell. Here's a rest cure in case any arteries harden: Try sunning yourself in the Fly Club's big garden.

He wish we could offer our hearty congrats To barrier-breaker young William M. Batts. But mum's the good word, we can't talk about that, One's taught to keep stuff like that under one's hat. Instead, we'll keep matters decorous and clean By buying Greg Lyss a new Xerox machine To run off his thousands of letters pristine While still saving money for Council and Dean.

Hank Moses, we hope that the new year goes great-- Here's to a new calendar and a clean slate. Some shiny new tests for deans Jewett and Fitz-- And to woo the accepted, ten cases of Schlitz. Good luck, bon voyage, to the Botts and the Wackers; Paul Martin gets hardware to ward off the hackers.

Helissa Sue Anderson, look what's for you: A whole stack of textbooks--go take Expos II. A full year's subscription for Richard A. Marius And a copy of Confi--he'll find it hilarious. To Andrew P. Deardorff, a room of his own; To Stanford, a place on the college world's throne. For freshman Anne Ueland, a suite at the Ritz; For Epps and Jack Reardon, the Dead's greatest hits. For Adams House dwellers, a squadron of tanks To ward off those men wielding scaffolds and planks. And Dean John B. Fox, with his fire-eating charms. Gets a new pair of earplugs to block out alarms.

To Feldstein, here's freedom from policy gripes; And a year at the podium for Richard E. Pipes. (A scholarly hint to young Dan the Pipette: Just follow your father; you'll get tenure yet.) For Ed Meese, to whose mind hunger's only a cheat, Some clam chowder popcorn's a holiday treat. Besides, just in case the stuff proves deleterious, We'll toss in some ice cream--the new Gelateria's. And, though her green birthplace his favorite is not, Here's a Cabbage Patch Doll for our friend Jimmy Watt.

He walked down Mt. Auburn, we strolled right on by The Fox and the Phoenix, the Spee and the Fly. At the Pi Eta's door we dropped off an emetic To save bucks on brewskis and time with the medic. Then what to our wandering eyes should appear But a miniature sleigh with a shitload of beer. Down Molson, down Heinie, down Miller and more; Up Beckski, up Strohski, all over the floor. Watch out for that lamppost--hold tight to the wall-- Now stagger off, stagger off, stagger off all.

It's a mayor's slot next time for Melvin the King And a real Union meal for the one from Peking. For Raymond L. Flynn, we can't help feeling queasy; His job is cut out, but it sure won't be easy. A trip to New York for the King of Nepal-- In an HSA bus leased by young Leventhal. They'll stop on the way to drop off a small mansion To fill all of North House's needs for expansion. New honors for Kleckner, Sulelman and Eck; Let's hope a new trend is just starting its trek. Warm seasonal greetings to artist Frank Stella And, closer to home, friends Senese and Janello.

Amuzzle we'll send to wherever the Band is; A grandfather clock to time-teller Dave Landes; Of the Indy's Dave Finegold the stockings we'll stuff With a typewriter ribbon in case things get tough. The wags at the 'Poon get a joke book to read Before their next issue; it's just what they need. Their Sackbut-that-was should be sure not to bungle; A Bells on the stage is worth ten in the Jungle.

Our eyelids are drooping, we're starting to nod; We've been down the River and up to the Quad. The night's almost over: we're through with our list. But wait! Here's a couple of goodies we missed. Our heartfelt good wishes for new health and cheer. For Margaret Cimino throughout the new year. To Patrick Sorrento and Brian M. Byrne. To all who shoot pages and off auto here. To Evans and others who type late at night. A big champagne toast, for the future looks bright. We've brought you a year full of gadgets and gidgets To make all the press runs drop back to four digits. To all Crimson followers, joy, sleep and laughter: We hope you'll survive a whole lot of Days After.