FRED

1970 . . . Maine . . . Poland Springs
Here, the most precious of things
Two men will meet
The meeting, so sweet —
Who can tell what great fortune life brings?

Fred Gratzon is dressed for success
Fred Gratzon is dressed to impress —
His garb is inspired —
Fred is attired
In patched overalls — no more and no less

Overalls? What does he wear?!
Yes, overalls — all else was bare.
On top of it, Fred
Has a glorious head
Devoted to growing long hair

The group all has flowers — each one
Flowers? He quickly finds one
As evening grows older
Fred’s feet become colder —
For shoes he makes a quick run

Maharishi’s car comes into sight,
Stops out there, under a light
Fred’s there in a stride
The door opens wide
And the flower is given — just right

Years later, Fred Gratzon would write,
“I must have been really a sight”
Maharishi sees Fred
And throws back his head
And laughs and just laughs with delight

1970 . . . Estes Park — TTC
It’s Fred Gratzon, Scene 2 — look and see:
He’d picked his direction
And passed his inspection —
As neat, clean, and kempt as can be

’72 . . . International Staff
Full circle goes the line on the graph
His jobs all require
Overalls for attire. . . .
In the cosmos somewhere, there’s a laugh

a a a

Before this, it must be confessed
His life had been checkered at best
Aimless and drifting
Shameless and shifting
Gameless and grifting —
He put his poor folks to the test

“In college, Fred, what did you study?”
“Study?” he goes — “Did I study?
I attended art classes,
Somehow got passes —
Got out, and I hit the road, buddy.”

From here it was hit the road, Jack
He put a few things in a pack
Our card-carrying hippie
Took his grand trip — he
Toured the West . . . and came back

His mission in life: to play drums —
Rock and roll with a few chums
To Woodstock he moved
But time quickly proved
He would wait until something else comes

Good fortune for years would ignore him
But then it began to restore him
Something deep clicked
At the moment time picked
And his path lit up brightly before him

It was ’68 . . . ah, ’68
A year marked for many by fate
Inspired by the Beatles,
On gold pins and needles,
He learned to transcend — it was great

’69 . . . He gets drafted, no less
What happens? Can anyone guess?
The army inspects him
In minutes rejects him —
Fred’s arrived wearing a dress

’70 . . . TTC — now he’s sensible
All that he does is defensible
He follows his stars
Through Merv, ATRs —
Does nothing at all reprehensible

’77 . . . Will wonders not cease?
Fortune builds, piece by small piece
A small boon was granted
A small seed was then planted —
Fred Gratzon first works with Cliff Rees

And then, 1978
Hot spots — get on planes — make a date
Fred went to Iran
To the town Isfahan
They brought peace — then KABOOM — hey, wait!

His building comes under attack
Some Governors (alas and alack)
Begin to start yearning
For quickly returning
But Fred says, “There’s no turning back!”

Things were OK — nothing gory
But talk about days of great glory
They came out alive
Jolted but jive —
Ask Fred to read you that story

’79 . . . Amherst was held
To 2,500 it swelled
And then, at the close
An “option” arose —
A new future had suddenly gelled

As those who were there have reported
The Sidhas were urged and exhorted —
Maharishi made clear
That those who moved here —
All would be richly rewarded

Eight hundred Sidhas arrive
Fred’s feeling alert and alive
But on Fieldhouse foam
The question hits home —
What will he do to survive?

Here he was, right in the middle
Money? Not much — less than little
He’d worked a job once
He’d lasted two months —
Business to him was a riddle

Inspired, perhaps, by the heat
By desires for things cool and sweet
He fashioned a plan
And soon our good man
Was hustling out in the street

Fred Gratzon began the beguine —
With a used ice cream making machine
And some money from Mom
He joined, with aplomb,
The entrepreneurial scene

Ice cream? He knew nothing about it
Experience? Completely without it
His prospects seemed meager
But man, he was eager —
In business and eager to tout it

As “The Baron of Ice Cream” he billed himself
Taste after taste — yes, he filled himself
Then upward he went
With such rapid ascent
It’s fitting and just that he thrilled himself

’83 . . . We watched him fandango
He fashioned a flavorful tango
7,000 assembled
And taste buds all trembled
For vanilla with swirls of mango

He warmed all our hearts to the core —
Registration got barrels galore
At 2:00 in the morning
Without any warning
We’d all have a craving for more

We all consumed more than our fill
Far beyond reason and will
Twelve years have past
But the memories last —
We taste that Utopia still
Upward he soared to the heights
With his cool, sweet, and luscious delights
Faster and faster
A media master
And higher still setting his sights

’84 . . . People calls it “the best”
Perfect scores in a university test
Served at the White House
A happy and bright house
Served on United
First class is delighted
Olympic teams treated
They eat it and eat it
Racking up sales
At grand Bloomingdales
Rolling in clover
TV the world over
The ’88 election
Fred plays to perfection
With “Bush Preppy Mint” and the rest

And then, it all came to a close
The ultimate reason? Who knows?
Through trial and test
Nature knows best
Moving so each of us grows

a a a

Talk about moves to new zones
He’d started in ice cream and cones
And then, the great leap
To an uncharted deep —
He fell into long-distance phones

Once again starting out small
With his own unique gifts, and that’s all
Where would it go?
How could he know?
Would it work? Would it fail? Would he fall?

With the vim, verve, and vigor of youth
And one-pointed pursuit of the truth
Finished with scooping
He started regrouping
At a WPA Trade Fair booth

Ten bucks for a space three feet wide
Ten bucks? Fred tightened inside
Though money was scanty
He dug up the ante —
Then swallowed a whole lot of pride

It took courage maintaining good cheer —
Imagine the things he would hear:
“Psst, hon — there, ahead —
Isn’t that Fred?
Say, Fred, what are you doing here?”

How long would this start-up phase take?
He was married, and much was at stake
With his fate a big maybe
Here was a baby —
A violin player named Jake

Of all ironies in existence
One stands out with insistence:
Long-distance, his service
And yet he was nervous —
He couldn’t pay for long distance

He attracted folks great and good-hearted
To culture the seed he had started
First Cliff, then the others
Sidha sisters and brothers —
And look at the course that they charted!

Their growth rate was — well, heaven sent:
26,000 percent!
The Telegroup crew
Was INC’s Number 2
We applauded and cheered their ascent

a a a

In truth, it is hardly surprising
That Fred’s fortune keeps rising and rising
Tracing the source
It’s simple, of course —
Fred Gratzon is uncompromising

What Maharishi wants, Fred wants that, too
What Maharishi asks, that’s what he’ll do
What Maharishi just said
You’ll hear it from Fred —
Heart and mind are aligned through and through

His gift is the gift of promotion
He speaks with both force and emotion
His words are heart-felt
Folks listen — rocks melt
They come to his cause with devotion

Did you know that he also can write?
His words are fresh, riveting, bright
In his future, we look:
We see a great book
Placing Fairfield high in the light

a a a

So bring all your balls and your bats in
Bring all those dogs and those cats in
Come one and all
Answer the call
It’s time now to honor Fred Gratzon

Put cummerbunds and cravats on
Men, put your spats and top hats on
Dress to the nines
Follow the signs
It’s time now to honor Fred Gratzon

’96 . . . Fred’s a sight to behold
Ever big, ever dauntless and bold
’96 has arrived
My, how he’s thrived
’96 . . . And Fred’s 50 years old!

He’s 50 years old now, you say?
50 years old? There’s no way
He’s 10 at the most
Or 12, he might boast —
But 50 years old? Go away

He’s Tom and Huck rolled into one
A kid — and he’s out on the run
All-American boy
Natural-born joy
He’s simply out looking for fun

Sun’s up — Fred bursts through the door
Going for more, more, and more
Run and play, Fred —
There’s a full day ahead
And a great big wide world to explore

Tom and Huck dug up a treasure —
Made them both rich beyond measure
The gold was OK
But the thing was the play —
The adventure was all of their pleasure

With Fred, is it not just the same?
He happened on fortune and fame —
All very well
But the pleasure, the thrill
Is simply in playing the game

Recall how he’s grinned and he’s laughed
Fullness of life fore and aft
As God is our giver
Life is a river —
Here’s Fred, and he’s out on his raft

Here’s more than just aging reversal
We hardly have seen the rehearsal
It’s more than reversed —
May Fred be the first
To achieve complete aging dispersal

He’s charted the wild and crazy way
The never-half-hearted-or-hazy way
And now he’s promoted —
And a whole book devoted —
To a path to success called . . . The Lazy Way

Live from your hammock, says Fred
And with beautiful bounties be fed
Convincingly stated!
We’re swayed and persuaded —
We’re spending the next month in bed

We’ll watch all those bounties start flowing
Our investment accounts as they’re growing
We’ll only arise
To shop for supplies
For the parties we all will be throwing

a a a

His eye’s on the big birthday cake,
Who knows how long it will take?
Few men are greater
But sooner or later
Fred may trade places with Jake

As ever, the man’s irrepressible
Flying high but, as always, accessible
Simple, unstressable
Blissful and blessable
Our feelings for Fred? Inexpressible

And Shelley we highly commend
Governor, wife, mother, friend
The rarest of saints
A genius who paints
For Shelley, there’s praise without end

This pure, all-American boy —
He leaves us one word to employ
One word to live by
To take and to give by
That simple, wise word is . . . enjoy

March 25, 1996 / updated March 25, 2010

THE SAGA OF HONEY-GRATZ

Ladies and gentleman, welcome to the fight of the century!
In this corner, we have the one, the only AT&T — that’s American Telephone and Telegraph for short — known to its many fans as Goliath, one of the world’s largest corporations, 350,000 employees strong, a large percentage of them lawyers.

And in this corner, ladies and gentlemen, we have the upstart, the dark horse, Fred Gratzon, known to his fans as Honey-Gratz. One lone man, last month’s bills not yet paid, a new baby to feed, sitting by himself at a card table at a Saturday afternoon trade fair in the student union of a small southeast Iowa college, a bit embarrassed to be there.

Ladies and gentlemen, please place your bets.

And you gentlemen in the ring, please come out swinging.
And there’s the bell. . . .

Honey-Gratz rises and enters the ring

He flexes some muscles and takes his first swing
But Goliath just sits like some kind of a king

Goliath, it seems, hasn’t noticed a thing
How could an elephant notice mosquitoes?

Goliath just sits there, munching Doritos

Honey-Gratz starts to assemble a troop

He calls a few friends, creating a group.
Goliath resembles the Spanish Armada —

Talk about cannons — he’s gotta lotta.
His hugeness makes most of his foes feel sickly

Honey-Gratz is undaunted — small, he moves quickly.

The Honey-Gratz group has possessed, from the start

A great, secret weapon — purity of heart.

They’re scrappy, their happy, they’re hip, and they’re hopping

They’re plucky, their lucky, creativity popping.

From the start they’re successful, they’re off like a streak,

Growing, expanding, week after week.

Honey-Gratz, ever the media wizard,

Gets his name in the papers, a veritable blizzard

The media adore him — ’twas love at first sight

(Or, more precisely, love at first sound-bite)

But Goliath just yawns and then scratches his neck —

His opponent still seems like the tiniest speck.

Honey-Gratz keeps coming, with Cliff and the others

With a team, small but mighty, Sidha sisters and brothers

Goliath gets up, finally enters the ring

And tries hard to squash this wee little thing.

What happens? You know from the media reports

Goliath himself has been stung — in the courts.

The elephant’s started to notice mosquitoes —

Especially when they’re firing torpedos.

He doesn’t take flight, he doesn’t run scared,

But he is taking notice — and getting prepared.

(There’s another fight here — look behind backs

And you’ll witness this contest — PCs versus Macs)

Honey-Gratz has retained a few lawyers, as well

And something else, too — but please, do not tell

Goliath would laugh — but who will laugh last?

The man with the Jyotishis, coming on fast.

With nature support, quick to smile, quick to quip,

Quick with the phone, just as quick with the lip,

He’s our own dear Luke Skywalker, Death Star awaiting

The heaven on earth that his group is creating.

He’s like Peter and the Wolf, like the ’69 Mets,

Like the ’80 US hockey team, like Namath and the Jets.

His group dives together, enlivens Samhita,

Then moves with the speed and the grace of a cheetah.

The Spanish Armada was defeated, then tanked —

What of Goliath? Will he be outflanked?

Honey-Gratz and his group will surely inspire him

And then, someday soon, they just might acquire him.

Goliath, at first, may feel a bit frightened —

Not for long, though — for he’ll soon be enlightened.

This field changes daily, with enormous potential.

Telegroup’s growth has been quite exponential:

Nearly 200 people — we stand and we cheer

We root that they’ll top a hundred million this year.

We hope that they all become famous and wealthy

And, in the bargain, make the whole nation healthy.

We hope that they’ll bring the ten thousand we need

To get the real job done — yes indeed.

We stand and we grin and we take off our hats

To the people surrounding our dear Honey-Gratz.

March 25, 1995