Whit-Be-allovous
(to the cadence of Sullivan’s “A Modern Major General”)
A Fight Song
We trod the beaches of the land, with footprints so magnificent,
We take good care and prudence, since we’re seemingly significant;
We are geological, with thoughts so ecological-
We solve the island’s many myths, with motives almost nearly always logical.
We step o’er rock and fragile stone, with boundless love resilient,
Our thoughts, forever prime, are always bordering on the brilliant-
We zig and zag, it’s in the bag, the secrets of a stratigraphic crag,
Our yards are always full of Nature’s bounteous anticlinal swag.
Whew!
We look at cave and cliff, for clues that often are mysterious,
We form our explanations, which then sometimes are delirious;
We’re ever right, with thoughts so bright, the clays we test with subtle bite,
The Mastodons we lately seek are almost always out of sight.
We sniff the waters of the seeps, which are mostly full of Carbonate,
We draw straight lines on maps, over which we then can fulminate-
We look not for the animal, not vegetable but mineral,
We seek to find the local sense of Earthy Science-in-General.
We find the island’s many faults are certainly near left-lateral
The moraines make Points, but Heads (Tombolos) are quaintly mostly platter-al,
We are Geological, with thoughts so ecological-
We solve the islands many myths, with motives almost nearly always logical.
Our rare scientific group is most certainly gregarious;
With the exception of a stately few, they are hardly e’er nefarious-
They most certainly show attentiveness, to the total group’s inventiveness
They never forget a single clue, keeping a constant retentiveness.
We’re constantly amused almost, by the manly interaction,
Of the way they stand their post, while their stomachs are in traction-
While some will look at cuttle fish, rarely they’re rebuttal-ish,
They follow simply to a man, the leader’s every whim and wish.
They never waste a word or deed, showing ultimate economy;
They incorporate all useful fields, even invertebrate Taxonomy-
They map all Points, align all Joints,
Whenever it is possible, they listen to whomever USGS anoints.
We march out in the sand-filled fields, with ultimate sobriety;
Then we announce our final facts, with such tremendous notoriety;
We use all of our abilities, with promising agilities
Before there is a final loss of all of our facilities.
We incorporate all our pulchritude, remaining ever all aghast;
With completely serious rectitude, we follow an iconoclast!
We are Geological, with thoughts so ecological-
We solve the islands many myths, with motives nearly always almost logical.
Harold L. Overton
