Now that there was some mighty fine readin'! A wonderful poem! You ought to start writing songs Steve! :) Very cool. Scott Team Ropingthewind ------------------------------------------------------------------------ >From: "Team Tierra Buena" >Reply-To: listserv@azgeocaching.com >To: >Subject: [Az-Geocaching] The Anniversary Present >Date: Wed, 30 Oct 2002 19:58:52 -0700 > >The Caching of Stan McBee > >(With profound apologies to Robert W. Service, whose poems should be >read and enjoyed by all.) > > > > > >There are strange things found on the caching-ground > > 'Neath the Arizona sun; > >There are rattlesnakes sly, and cholla that fly, > > And temps that reach one twenty-one, > >What's 'round the next bend could make hair stand on end, > > But the strangest sight you'll ever see, > >Is if you find the cache that has nothing but ash -- > > The remains of old Stan McBee. > > > >Now, Stan McBee always went out with glee > > To locate the latest site. > >He found quite a few, even placed one or two, > > Just to keep his Cache Karma right. > >He lived all alone, so the urge to get goin' > > Was no cause for family strife. > >'Twas but one little fly in the ointment, or I > > Would say Stan had a cache-perfect life. > > > >That flaw had to do with his left and right shoe; > > Seems he never once got them to trod > >As a pair, or a team. Sad to say, it would seem > > That my caching friend Stan was a clod. > >Ten yards with his gait, sure as flush beats a straight, > > He'd be sprawling out flat on the trail. > >He fell once too often, and started to soften, > > Old Stanley was getting quite frail. > > > >He called me one day in his affable way, > > And said, "Meet me. I'll buy you a beer!" > >But when I got there and saw him in the chair, > > I knew there was no cause for cheer. > >"I just came from the doc's. I've tripped too many rocks, > > Son, I ain't got much more time to stay. > >When I take the last fall, my attorney will call > > You, and please do what she has to say." > > > >I was saddened no end, but a friend stays a friend, > > And I promised I'd honor his plea. > >We shook hands in farewell. Though it hurts me to tell, > > 'Twas the last time he ever saw me. > >Weeks passed, one or two, then a phone call came through > > from a law office down in Tempe. > >"At our office near Mill, we'll be reading the will > > Of the late cacher, Stanley McBee." >I arrived right at ten, and was soon ushered in > > To the office of Mary Sinclair, > >She asked me to sit, and I near threw a fit > > When I saw there was only one chair. > >"You were Stanley's one friend, it was right at the end > > He left all his possessions to you. > >But to get his bequest, he left one last request > > That you alone can and must do." > > > >With that she reached o'er, and up from the floor > > Moved a green ammo case to the table. > >"Stan's been cremated. His will clearly stated > > You must do this task if you're able. > >Here's a long and a lat; now you must go seek that > > Site, and under a cottonwood tree, > >Hide this ammo-can cache, though it be filled with ash. > > It stays secret between you and me." > > > >Armed with my GPS, and just barely a guess, > > I set out to seek the location > >Of that place in the land where my good old friend Stan > > Wished to rest his remains of cremation. > >Without too much grief, and to my great relief, > > 'Round that waypoint I steadily tightened, > >As I drew near the spot, my nerve endings were shot, > > For some reason I felt rather frightened. > > > >The site suited him, it was up on the Rim, > > (Maybe not. These are beans I won't spill.) > >And in spite of the trees, I got signals with ease: > > There's the spot, just atop a small hill! > >As I set down the case, my heart started to race, > > Beause someone had been here 'fore me! > >There's a lined yellow sheet, that was folded so neat, > > 'Neath a rock by that cottonwood tree. > > > >"Son," said the note, and you know who wrote, > > "You're a fine cacher and a good friend. > >In spite of my spills and my physical ills, > > You were here for me right to the end. > >Now I want you to savor the depth of the favor > > You've done me. It's not overstated: > >Thanks to you and your Garmin, this clumsy ol' varmin' > > Can at last say: I'm COORDINATED!" > > > >There are strange things found on the caching-ground > > 'Neath the Arizona sun; > >There are rattlesnakes sly, and cholla that fly, > > And temps that reach one twenty-one, > >What's 'round the next bend could make hair stand on end, > > But the strangest sight you'll ever see, > >Is if you find the cache that has nothing but ash -- > > The remains of old Stan McBee. > > > >C Copyright 2002, Stephen N. Gross. All rights reserved. > _________________________________________________________________ Get faster connections -- switch to MSN Internet Access! http://resourcecenter.msn.com/access/plans/default.asp