OF ARROGANCE, CONCEIT, AND PRIDE OF PLACE

KATZENBAUM

Katzenbaum

Mr. Katzenbaum

That was his name

Owner/mananger of a Snowbird

Trailer park 

In deep South Tex

Where my father managed

A crew of jardineros

Who tended to the landscaping

and the upkeep of the park

Home on Christmas break

From a Master's plan

In a Midwest school

Dad called for me

to his work

And I went

He met me there

In muddy rubber boots

Mud-splattered pants

And shovel in his hand

To met his boss

This Katzenbaum

This Mr. Katzenbaum

To you

"Dile que te vas a recibir

Con una maestria," he said.

And I could tell, 

That he was proud as punch

"So you're his son?," he asked

This Katzenbaum

"Yes, sir," I had replied in turn

"And getting a Master's degree

In Madison?," he asked.

"That's right," I said. 

"Are you a Badger, too?"

"South of Milwaukee,' he had replied.

"Pleasure to meet you," I answered then,

And shook his hand.

Then, in a lower voice and to the side he asked:

"And you still claim him?", 

Nodding slightly toward my dad.

"Of course I do," I said. "Why shouldn't I?

He's is my dad."

"Oh," said Katzenbaum,

This Katzenbaum

And turned, and walked away.