# **FRIENDS OF THE PLEISTOCENE**

# 

# **SONGBOOK**

# 

# 

# 

# September, 2003 issue 

# Alphabetical Song List

All Those Gophers 16

At The Fop 1

Ballad Of The Friends Of The Pleistocene 36

Blowin' In The Wind 43

Buy A Backhoe 14

Call Me Doctor 7

Carver And Burke 33

Cosmogenesis 32

Cover Of The GSA 28

Dear Rockwell 13

Death Valley Dreamin\' 52

Dixie 54

Dust In The Wind (Preliminary Draft) 17

Fault-Scarp Ridin\' Cowboy 39

Faulty Logic 25

Field Mappin' Man 10-11

Fish Medley 50

FOP Digging Song 5

FOP on the Run 49

Gimme That Ole Time Geology 30

Go Bennie Go 9

Go Glacier Go 3

High-Resolution Climatic Humility 34

If I Had a Backhoe 51

If I Had A Hammer 38

It Was A Very Good Year 37

Job Market Blues 27

Meetings 6

Missing Lakeshores 12

Nora 44

Old and Blown Away - song for the Bishop Tuff 47

On The Playa 40

One Ton Of Guano 24

Ostracode\'s Garden 53

Pedo San Antone 19

Rennie\'s Song 31

Roll on Missoula 46

Saprolite 4

Somewhere Over The Threshold 26

Stop In The Name Of Rigor 29

Tephra 22

The Aku Song 45

The Av Lament 21

The Ballad Of Owens Lake 41

The climate is a-changin\' 48

The Glacier's Back (and there's gonna be trouble) 23

The Soil Circle Game 18

The Soil Down The Hall (From Mary) 20

The Truncated Field Trip 8

Trench Across The Fault Tonight 35

Trona 15

Wonderful World 4

Zzyzx Black Ops 42

#  

#  Not Exactly Chronological Song List

At The Fop 1

Go Glacier Go 3

Wonderful World 4

Saprolite 4

FOP Digging Song 5

Meetings 6

Call Me Doctor 7

The Truncated Field Trip 8

Go Bennie Go 9

Field Mappin' Man 10-11

Missing Lakeshores 12

Dear Rockwell 13

Buy A Backhoe 14

Trona 15

All Those Gophers 16

Dust In The Wind (Preliminary Draft) 17

The (Soil) Circle Game 18

Pedo San Antone 19

The Soil Down The Hall (From Mary) 20

The Av Lament 21

Tephra 22

The Glacier's Back (and there's gonna be trouble) 23

One Ton Of Guano 24

Faulty Logic 25

Somewhere Over The Threshold 26

Job Market Blues 27

Cover Of The GSA 28

Stop In The Name Of Rigor 29

Gimme That Ole Time Geology 30

Rennie\'s Song 31

Cosmogenesis 32

Carver And Burke 33

High-Resolution Climatic Humility 34

Trench Across The Fault Tonight 35

Ballad Of The Friends Of The Pleistocene 36

It Was A Very Good Year 37

If I Had A Hammer 38

Fault-Scarp Ridin\' Cowboy 39

On The Playa 40

The Ballad Of Owens Lake 41

Zzyzx Black Ops 42

Blowin' In The Wind 43

Nora 44

The Aku Song 45

Roll on Missoula 46

Old and Blown Away - song for the Bishop Tuff 47

The climate is a-changin\' 48

FOP on the Run 49

Fish Medley 50

If I Had a Backhoe 51

Death Valley Dreamin\' 52

Ostracode\'s Garden 53

Dixie 54

# **At The Fop**

By Marith Reheis and Scott Stine

Written as an all-FOP song \[add new verses if desired\] at the 1987
Pacific FOP trip to the northern Lahontan desert

To the tune of *At the Hop*

# Chorus lead-in of chords, ending with "At the FOP!"

1\.

You can dig it, you can squeeze it, you can sample it and freeze it at
the FOP

When the night comes down, there's a fire to stand around at the FOP.

It's a place where we can be crazy at the FOP.

# *Chorus*

Let's go to the FOP, you can party (or "argue") till you drop,

Then to the ground you flop, but the drinking doesn't stop.

Well come on, let's go to the FOP!

2\.

You can core it, you can bake it, you can demagnetize and shake it at
the FOP.

You can microprobe the ashes and get electric flashes at the FOP.

You can run a seismic line and measure all the fines at the FOP

3a. (1987 Pacific FOP, Lake Lahontan)

It's a shitter, it's a puker, it's a pisser, it's a doozer at the FOP.

When the porta-potty passes, it's emitting killing gases at the FOP.

If it weren't for the beer, we'd never come near it at the FOP.

3b. (1987 Rocky Mountain FOP, Sangre de Cristos and Espanola Basin)

You can sample carbonate for a hypothetic date at the FOP.

And compare it to the rate that the stuff accumulates at the FOP.

Use it all for calibration of the desert-varnish ratio at the FOP.

*(alternate last line)*

Use it all to calibrate the tectonic uplift rate at the FOP.

3c. (1989 Rocky Mountain FOP, Wind River Range)

You can loot at all the till, till you've more than had your fill at the
FOP.

The stratigraphy's so plain you can see it through the rain, don't
complain at the FOP.

But you'll pass up all the crops 'cause there's never time to stop at
the FOP.

4\.

As the leader of the FOP, you can tell 'em 'bout the crop that was there
ten years ago.

In the middle of haranguing, you can tell 'em 'bout yardanging at the
FOP.

You can armwave, bullshit, you can goll-gee-whizzit at the FOP.

Choru*s* of chords, ending with "At the FOP"

# (additional verses from Pacific NW cell):

# You can pit it, you can tent it, you can climb it, you can cave it, Enchantment Rock.

# You can break it, you can blast it, or edynamite its axes on Balanced Rock!

Uptown it isn't there, can you find it anywhere, Luckenbock.

# Is it eluvial, illuvial, alluvial, colluvial at the FOP?

# What's the age, what's the stage, is it on the next page at the FOP?

# Is it pedogenic calcite or groundwater calcite at the FOP?

# 

# Is it lus, is it Loess, is it less, is it more, at the FOP?

Is it 3, is it 4, is it five, are there more at the FOP?

Was Neil really stuck in that goldern muck at the FOP?

You can grind it, you can screen it, you can keep it, you can toss it at
the FOP.

You can wash it, you can sift it, you can mark it with a pen at the FOP.

We saw Paleoloma, don't laugh it's Jomama at the FOP.

# Is it ash, is it ash, is it ash, is it ash at the FOP?

# Did it fill a buffalo wallow, did it cap the Ogallala at the FOP?

# Is it pedogenic carbonate or just something that Phil ate at the FOP? 

# **Go Glacier Go**

By John Pitlick

To the tune of *Johnny B. Goode*

1\.

Way in Canada where it sure gets cold

# The glaciers started up and began to grow

They grew so big they started moving along

And you can see where they've been even though they're gone

They grew so big that they couldn't stay

So they flowed right down to the USA

*Chorus*

Go, go, go glacier go, etc.

Glacier be cold.

2\.

Well the Indians saw them coming straight out of the hills

And they knew if that old man glacier he would give 'em the chills

So they hightailed down to where it never snows

And you can see 'em on the beaches down in Mexico

So old man glacier was all alone and blue

And carving up the hillsides was the best he could do.

## *Chorus*

3\.

Now the customs at the border didn't treat him nice

They didn't like him smugglin' rocks down in his ice

They took him in the back and they made him strip

And they looked up his crevasse but they didn't find shit

So he took off for Olympia as fast as he could go

But he missed the noon ferry to Winslow

*Chorus*

# **Wonderful World**

By Marith Reheis, Jennifer Harden, Bob Hale, and Alan Gillespie

Written for the 1985 Penrose conference on paleoclimactic indicators

Inspired by Peter Patton

To the tune of *Wonderful World*

1\.

Don't know much about geology, don't know much about climatology,

Don't know much about the talks I heard, don't know much about a
woodrat's turd.

But I do know that I am right, and you'll believe me if you're not
uptight.

What a wonderful world this will be.

2\.

Don't know much about paper shale, don't know much about a delta halo.

Don't know much about nothin' at all, must have been all the alcohol.

But I do know that I am right, and if you think that my story's tight,

What a wonderful world this will be.

Break:

Now I don't claim to be a real expert, but I'm tryin' to be,

'Cause maybe by bein' a real expert, baby, NSF will give its grants to
me.

Repeat 1.

# **Saprolite**

By Marith Reheis and Dorinda Gilmore

Written for Dr. Hurst's class in saprolite mapping, University of
Georgia, 1972

To the tune of *Baby Face*

1\.

Saprolite, you've got the cutest little saprolite

The freshest rock could never take your place, diabase,

Looking at your anatexis gets me in the solar plexus.

Saprolite, I get a thrill when I see your pegmatite.

I didn't need a shove 'cause I just fell in love with your pretty little
saprolite.

2\.

Biotite gneiss has float that's different from amphibolite.

There's not a fresh outcrop that you can trust, let it rust,

Mapping schist at speeds of thirty keeps your clothes from getting
dirty.

Hornblende gneiss, how can you tell it from a pseudodiorite?

Pretty little sapra, how I love to map ya', pretty little saprolite!

# **FOP Digging Song**

By E.J. Cushing and C.L. Match, University of Minnesota

Presented at field trip for 1972 GSA Annual Meeting in Minneapolis)

Tune is obvious

We're Friends of the Pleistocene

Damn little ice we've seen;

Listen and we'll tell you why:

The glaciers retreated

The lakes are depleted

The temperature's risen too high!

We've till and we've gravel

Our problems unravel

When stones oriented we see.

We've eskers and kames

And various names

To apply to glacial debris.

We've loess and we've spoils

Which add to our toils,

We've lakes and we've peat bogs to bore.

With *Quercus* and *Fagus*

And *Pinus* to plague us

The pollen we cannot ignore.

So, we're Friends of the Pleistocene

Where geology's nice and clean

Granites and faults we decry

Instead of petrology

On carbon chronology

And climactic change we rely.

# **Meetings**

By Jennifer Harden, Alan Gillespie, and Bob Hale

Sung to the tune of *My Favorite Things*

1\.

Sitting in chairs and picking our noses,

Cracking our knuckles and wiggling our toes-es,

Flapping our arms when it's our turn to speak,

My argument seems so pitifully weak.

Sleeping through sessions and crossing out knees,

Waking up only to backstab colleagues,

Slandering friends and flattering foes,

There are a few things that make my heart glow.

# *Chorus*

When I'm shown up, when I'm put down, when I look like a fool,

I simply remember my favorite things, and then I just feel so COOL.

2\.

Ripping off rivals and publishing quickly,

Others' ideas I package so sickly,

Only my deans and my publishers know

This is the way that my stature grows.

Feigning great interest in others' equations

Without understanding the whole situation

Missing the point and feeling quite glum

Frankly I'd rather be sucking my thumb.

*Chorus*

# **Call Me Doctor**

Written about John Reed in an old D.C. Pick and Hammer Show

*Chorus*

Everybody loves a doctor, that's why I'm in love with me,

Call me doctor, call me doctor,

And when every you address me, don't forget the Ph.D.,

Call me doctor, call me doctor.

'Cause I'm just a little better than the average man could ever hope to
be.

So in grateful recognition all you lesser mortals can

Call me doctor, that's me!

1\.

Though I'm hardly any smarter than I was when I was ten,

Call me doctor, call me doctor,

I have organized my ignorance with pencil and with pen,

Call me doctor, call me doctor.

Now my dissertation's finished and they've granted my degree, it's there
for all to see.

I feel so ever so important since I have my Ph.D.,

Call me doctor, that's me.

2\.

Had a philosophic conversation just the other day,

Call me doctor, call me doctor,

With the man who picks my garbage up and hauls it all away,

Call me doctor, call me doctor.

And I found that he had doctorates from Stanford and Yale, Cal Tech and
MIT,

And it gave him lots of comfort when his buddies at the dump

Called him doctor you see!

3\.

Now the neighbors had a baby and I'll tell you what they did.

Call me doctor, call me doctor,

For they argued over names to call their darling little kid,

Call me doctor, call me doctor,

Well they finally named him Doctor and it ended all strife, they're
happy as can be,

It will save the kid some trouble as he makes his way through life,

He'll be a doctor like me.

*Last Chorus*

### Same as first to last line

Call me Doctor that's me, boys, call me doctor that's me!

# **The Truncated Field Trip**

By Dave Weide

Written for the 1986 Pacific FOP, southern Death Valley

To the tune of *Camptown Races*

1\.

Avawatz rocks they sing this song, TRUNCATE, TRUNCATE,

Chopped right off by a Garlock prong, they've all gone away.

They've all gone away, that's what Brady say,

Avawatz rocks was here and gone, left just yesterday.

2\.

Death Valley fault zone five mile wide, TRUNCATE, TRUNCATE,

So many problems Bennie can't hide, they won't go away.

They won't go away no matter what he say.

Death Valley fault zone five miles wide, moved just yesterday.

3\.

Butler's rocks are rolled up too, TRUNCATE, TRUNCATE,

Amargosa's cut 'em through, wish they'd go away.

Wish they'd go away, down Badwater way.

Ply-ass-tow-scene is so messed up, make old Paul's hair turn gray.

4\.

We've been here for three days now, TRUNCATE, TRUNCATE,

These three guys have told us how, now they're goin' away.

Now they're goin' away, leave us here to pray

That next year's trip will be as good and we'll see you all someday

# **Go Bennie Go**

By Marith Reheis

Written for 1986 Pacific FOP, southern Death Valley

To the tune of *Johnny B. Goode*

1\.

Way up in Napa valley where the grapevines grow

There lives an old geologist that we all know.

He's mapped around the desert nearly all of his life,

He never could have done it if it weren't for his wife.

Geologist keep comin' from miles around

To see him drawing lines and walk that ground,

*Chorus*

Go, Go! Go, Bennie, go! Go, Go! Go, Bennie, go!

Go, Go! Go, Bennie, go! Go, Go! Go, Bennie, go!

Go-oh-oh-oh-oh, Bennie map on!

2\.

Along with Lauren Wright he's a field mappin' man

And now he is the leader of a big old band.

They're rollin' 'cross the desert chanting "FAULTS OR BUST"

You can see 'em comin' by the cloud of dust.

One and all are singing "I saw the light,

Please, Bennie, map on tonight!"

*Chorus*

# **Field Mappin' Man**

By Dave Weide, 1979

To the tune, obviously, *John Henry*

l\.

When John Henry was a little freshman, well he went to M.I.T.

And his Mammy said if you want to get ahead,

Better study geology (yes yes), better study geology.

2\.

Well John Henry he enrolled in structure, paleo and stratigraphy,

But he flunked p‑chem and calculus,

Said \"Geophysics be the death of me (Lord Lord), geophysics be the
death of me.\"

3\.

Well he finally got him a Master's, followed that with a Ph.D.

Then he up and went to Menlo Park

Sayin\' \"What can you make of me (USGS), what can you make of me?\"

4\.

Well they told John Henry out in Menlo, the Test Site is the place for
you,

Shufflin\' papers all day in a bureaucratic way

Writin\'. reports and memos too (Good Grief), writin\' reports and memos
too.

5\. *Slowly, with drive*

Poor John Henry he went down to Reston with his rock hammer in his hand.

Sayin\' \"Director won't you listen to me?"

Lordy, I want to be a mappin' man (Yes Yes), I want to be a mappin'
man.\"

6\.

So they sent John Henry west to Golden, hired him on in the C.R.G.

And the Branch Chief say \"You\'ll map a quad a day,

If you\'re goin' to work for me (Pray, Pray), if you\'re goin\' to work
for me."

7\.

Well John Henry he was a mapin', and his hammer was flashin\' light.

Mapped thirty‑two quads for the B.L.M.

And he did it in a day and a night (lord lord), he did it in a day and a
night.

8\.

Well the Branch Chief he said to John Henry, \"I\'m gonna bring me a
plotter 'roundl\"

Maps a two degree sheet in an hour and a half,

It\'ll map you right into the ground (Poor Boy), it\'ll map you right
into the ground.

9\.

Well the plotter started into mappin\', lord the models they really
flew.

But John Henry mapped till his pencil melted down

Sayin\' \"Field work I\'ll be true to you,(oh yes), field work I\'ll be
true to YOU.\"

10\.

Now the man. who invented the plotter, lord he thought he was mighty
fine.

But Johnny he mapped out sixteen quads,

While the plotter it only did nine (my my), the plotter it only did
nine,

11\. *Slowly, with feeling*

Well they laid John Henry on the outcrop, and he looked at them and
said,

\"I\'m a field mappin\' man and that\'s for sure.\"

Then he fell across his hammer dead (Good Lord), he fell across his
hammer dead.

12\.

So they carried John Henry back to Reston and buried him 'neath the
sand.

And the Geologic Chief come a strollin by

Sayin\' \"There lies a field mappin\' man (oh yes), there lies a field
mappin' man."

# **Missing Lakeshores**

By Doug Burbank, Alan Gillespie, and Jennifer Harden

Written on the 1985 Pacific FOP trip to alleged Pleistocene lakes

To the tune of *Poison Ivy*

1\.

He\'s been searching for those lake shores, those mythical lake shores.

He\'s been searching like a hound for pebbles that should be semi‑round.

*Chorus*

Missing lake shores, missing lake shores,

Every night while you\'re sleeping, those waves come a‑creeping

At your tent floor or or or or or.

2\.

Nobody knows how big it grows, but everybody knows

That great Mojave River will set your mind all a‑quiver.

*Chorus*

### Break

Fans they may be lumpy, and playas make you grumpy.

Paleosols may make you jump and twitch.

Carbonates may fool ya, and ashfalls they may cool ya,

But Lord, those missing lakeshores are a bitch.

3\.

You\'re gonna need an ocean of‑water in commotion,

You\'ll be searching like a hound, but we think they may never be found.

*Chorus*

# **Dear Rockwell**

By Doug Burbank and Marith Reheis

Written for the 1990 Pacific FOP to the Salton Trough area

To the tune of *Dear Abby*

1\.

Dear Rockwell, dear Rockwell, your segment\'s too long,

The offsets are backwards and the slips are all wrong.

The Elsinore fault zone is really a thrust,

And your next published paper just may be a bust.

Signed, A Skeptic

Dear Skeptic , dear Skeptic, your head\'s in the ground,

Get your ass into gear, take a good look around.

My faults may be backwards, but that\'s really OK,

The GS won\'t notice, they\'ll continue to pay.

Signed, Tom Rockwell.

2\.

Dear Rockwell, dear Rockwell, this patina's a joke.

You\'re salting your outcrops for ignorant folk.

The calcic horizons are all flushed away,

If it\'s really argillic, why is there no clay?

Signed, Pedantic.

Pedantic, Pedantic, you hit the nail on the head.

We varnished those clasts and we painted them red.

We tagged all the fault lines to show the offset,

And the students dug notches on each faulted arete.

Signed, Contractor.

3\.

FOP Leader, FOP Leader, we have a complaint.

You said there was blacktop and there clearly ain\'t.

There\'s been no tequila, and we think it\'s damn queer

That you\'re pounding sodas while we\'re drinking beer.

Signed, Too Sober.

Too Sober, Too Sober, you have no complaint,

That stuff isn't beer, it\'s the leftover paint.

The blacktop was solid from here to the fault,

But it\'s paved with dead fishes instead of asphalt.

Signed, FOP Leader.

# **Buy A Backhoe**

Written by Marith Reheis in honor of Bud Burke, 1989

To the tune *Hire a Wino*

> INTRO:
>
> Came crawlin\' in last night, like so many nights before.
>
> Finally made it to my feet, as she opened up the door,
>
> And she said, \"You\'re not gonna do this any more.\"

*Chorus*

She said, \"I\'m gonna buy a backhoe to excavate your holes,

So you won\'t have to break your back to see those silly soils.

We\'ll take out a second mortgage and put a lab along that wall,

And electric cords will point the way to the computer down the hall. \"

1\.

She said, \"We\'ll hire some gung‑ho students to insert hydraulic
shores.

With an airgun they can clean the face while you sit back and snore.

Then you\'ll describe the profile while they hang on every word,

But be careful not to talk too long or you will sound absurd.\"

2\.

She said, \"Just bring those monthly paychecks, and I'll use 'em up
right here,

We\'ll open a new bank account to buy laboratory gear.

We\'ll have computer‑driven pipettes so you won\'t have to guess,

And a super‑heated autoclave to clean up all the mess.

We\'ll have a dozen lab assistants who will jump at your command.

They\'ll Walkley‑Black and Chitteick, and shake down all the sand.

They\'ll probe, diffract, and titrate, and when they\'re all through,

They'll computerize and analyze and interpret it for you.

# **Trona**

By Jennifer Harden, John Tinsley, and Alan Gillespie

To the tune *Dona, Dona*

1\.

In a playa, far from clean air, there run two factories

With exotic salts processed from the lake come the deadly, retching
smells.

All the winds are stinking, their stink a deathly blight.

They stink and stink the whole day through and then all through the
night.

*Chorus*

Trona trona trona trona, trona trona trona trona

Trona trona trona trona, trona trona trona trona

2\.

\"Stop complaining,\" said the mogul, \"Who said you\'d have air to
breathe?

As we plunder for a profit you inhale the price of greed.\"

All the winds are stinking, their stink a deathly blight.

They stink and stink the whole day through and then all through the
night.

*Chorus*

# **All Those Gophers**

Written by David Seymour for the spring 1989 FOP to the California
Transverse Ranges

To the tune *All My Loving*

1\.

Close your eyes and you\'ll hear them, but oh, don\'t you fear them,

They\'re digging the soil just like you,

Oh, but don\'t look away, your B\'s on top of A,

And the stone line is covered with poo.

*Chorus*

All those gophers, see what they can do.

All those gophers, destroying what you knew,

2\.

Close your eyes but don\'t listen to what that guy been pissing,

That soil\'s not 6000 years old!

Oh but don\'t look away, the A horizon they say

Was mixed by three gophers today,

I\'ll pretend that I\'m seeing three terraces you\'re saying

Are divided into a, b, and c.

Frazier Mountain thrust they say can be all explained away

by landslides and a gopher or two.

Tag:

All those gophers, all those‑gophers, all those gophers destroying what
you knew.

# **Dust In The Wind (Preliminary Draft)**

By the San Diego State University Quaternary class of 1987

1\.

I closed my eyes, only for a moment of graded time,

The rock weathers away, and all that remains is translocated clay,

*Chorus*

And all it leaves is dust in the wind, eolian dust in the wind,

2\.

Down to the C, the carbonates are leached out totally,

It dissolves away only to become a stage IV K.

3\.

Gile and Hawley would approve, and so would Marith Reheis and

her dust traps too.

4\.

If only we knew the influx rate,

We could produce a realistic date,

5\.

We calculate horizon numbers for an index no one really understands,

To date soil profiles and correlate deposits across the land.

# **The (Soil) Circle Game**

By Marith Reheis

Written for Pete Birkeland\'s roast in honor of the 1988 Kirk Bryan
Award

To the tune of *The Circle Game*

1\.

Yesterday a boy came out to wander, joined the Army, skied down hills
and played.

What to do next? He began to wonder, but first he had to raise his
failing grades.

2\.

At Stanford he began to do his research, followed then by Berkeley on
the bay.

Mackin, Arkley, and Jenny made his mind work and the Mustang Ranch and

Truckee made his day

*Chorus*

And the lab work, it goes round and round and the soil pits, they go
down and down,

The more data we collect, the less we know.

We can\'t stand up, but our friends will keep us from falling in the
flames,

And we\'ll pass the beer around in the circle game.

3\.

Then the man went on to Boulder by the Rockies, gathered students round
him by the score.

Used their research and his own to write a textbook, and cursed the NSF
for leaving him poor.

*Chorus*

4\.

> Now the students are dispersing with their bible. The gospel, Soils
> and Geomorph they tell.

While Pete does global studies on a cycle, and tells the NSF to go to
hell.

*Chorus*

# **Pedo San Antone**

By Richard Griffin

Written for the 1988 International Working Meeting of Soil
Micromorphology in San Antonio

To the tune of *Sloop John B*

I.

We came to San Antone, for just about a week or so,

All around St. Mary s we did roam

Discussing silt loams and complex rhizomes,

Yeah, we feel so polished we wanna go home.

*Chorus*

So get out the microscopes, that's enough about isotopes,

We don\'t want more refried beans and corn.

We like pedo‑jargon, so just leave it alone.

Yeah, we feel vo‑sepic, and we wanna go home.

2\.

We took one look at the acronym, IWISM,

It sounded like the right password to us.

So don\'t make a fuss, just get on that bus,

Yeah, we feel so quantified we wanna go home.

3\.

So we\'ll take our little brown bags and stuff them with technical mags,

And grimly stay at the meetings from eight until dawn,

Then stroll back to the dorm, our cutans are worn,

Yeah, we feel so crystic, we wanna go home.

# **The Soil Down The Hall (From Mary)**

By Milan Pavich

Written for the 1987 Penrose Conference on paleosols in sedimentary
rocks­

To the tune of *Wouldn\'t It Be Loverly*

All I need is a woodland green, far away from the Pleistocene,

With peds and thick Bt, O wouldn't it be loverly?

Lots of ash making lots of A, lots of bugs translocating clay,

Cutans of red and grey, O wouldn\'t it be loverly?

I would wait for a rooting tree, the vertisols would all envy me.

I\'d have a never‑ending B, O wouldn\'t I be loverly?

O, so loverly sittin\' absobuuminlootly still,

I would wait till Birkeland came and sampled me with his skill.

Then I\'d be in the GSA or even Paleopedologia,

But most importantly I\'d be down the hall from Mary,

Mary, Mary, Mary,

I'd be down the hall from Mary.

# **The Av Lament**

By Marith Reheis

Written at 1987 Pacific FOP trip to the northern Lahontan desert, on the
occasion of being roasted by Fred Peterson

To the tune of *Mama Tried*

1\.

First thing I remember knowin' was the silt and clay a-blowin',

And I thought that I was growin' up to hide

'Neath a pavement in the sun, never havin' any fun,

Then the scientists they started takin' sides.

2\.

Springer said it's really neat how vesicles form in the heat,

Expanding gases make those little holes.

Miller said that's full of shit, capillarity forms those pits,

And it doesn't matter if it's hot or cold.

*Chorus*

## Is it heat or is it water that forms my vesicles?

Well, Peterson, he lectured and he tried, yes he tried,

Lord he tried to teach them better, but his teachings they decried,

That leaves only them to blame 'cause Freddy tried.

3\.

First you wet that silty ground, and it percolates on down,

My little air-filled pores are sucking hard.

The smallest pores are mostly stressed, and they move and coalesce,

Then drying leaves me massive, pocked and scarred.

*Chorus*

# **Tephra**

By Marith Reheis

Written for the 1990 INQUA Conference on Tephrochronology in Yellowstone

To the tune of *Freight Train*

Tephra, tephra, blowing so fast; tephra, tephra, volcanic ash.

Wish I knew how old it is, guess I need a chronologist.

First we'll try the chemistry. Majors and rare earths are the key.

Eruptive source they might locate -- if I'm lucky too, a date.

Why do magmas evolve so slow? Age of ash we still don't know.

Forget refraction and shard shape. Too old for a carbon date.

So a smorgasbord of methods we try. The spread of dates would make you
cry:

Thermoluminescence, ESR, laser fusion, K-Ar.

Fission-track dating made us curse, polarity data is even worse:

It's somewhere in the Pleistocene, or maybe Pliocene.

Tephra, tephra, blowing so fast; tephra, tephra, volcanic ash.

Wish I knew how old it is, guess I need a chronologist.

# **The Glacier's Back (and there's gonna be trouble)**

By the Bunkhouse Gang, Fish Lake Valley, February 1991

To the tune of *My Boyfriend's Back*

1\.

The glacier's back and there's gonna be trouble,

Hey la, hey la, the climate changed.

The CO~2~ went up, but it didn't quite double,

Hey la, hey la, the climate changed.

Hey, it's gonna be freezin'! Hey we're gonna do some skiin'!

2\.

Glacier's been gone for such a long time,

Hey la, hey la, the climate changed.

Now it's back and things'll be fine,

Hey la, hey la, the climate changed.

Hey, it's not the younger Dryas! Hey, we're drowning in the playas!

Break: Why would the models tell so many lies? Ah-oo, ah-oo.

They\'ll say \"Hit the beaches\" while there\'s blizzards in the skies.

Ah-oo \-- Wait and see!

3\.

We\'re lost in our data, not looking out the window,

Hey la, hey la, the climate changed.

Computer says it\'s warm and it\'s never gonna snow,

Hey la, hey la, the glacier\'s back.

Don\'t need computer simulation, we got climatic degradation.

Break:

4\.

They modeled for carbon and they modeled for storm tracks,

Hey la, hey la, the climate changed.

Expanded all the freeways and filled all the smokestacks,

Hey la, hey la, the climate changed.

Hey, we wrecked the carbon cycle! From my nose, there\'s hanging an
icicle!

Hey la, hey la, the glacier\'s back!

# **One Ton Of Guano**

By Warren Hoeman, winner of the 1980 Cave Ballad Contest, National
Spelological Society Convention.

1\.

Guanos noches, Senora

Could I please have refresco?

I come from deep in caverna,

Where my amigos wait rescue;

Across the guano we stealing,

When we got stinking feeling. . .

*Chorus*

One tone of guano,

I feel like one ton of guano,

One ton of guano,

I feel like on ton of guano.

2\.

One of our loco compadres,

Was a Norte \'mericano,

And to show he tough hombre,

We enter room full of guano,

Because he thought it was macho,

We land in bat-shit gazpacho. . .

3\.

Adios, my senora,

Thank you for the kind favor,

Pardon, please, my aroma,

For I\'m no longer a caver;

I knew I\'d come to my limit,

When they asked me swim it.

# **Faulty Logic**

By Dave Seymour

South-Central Coast of California FOP Trip, 1990

To the tune of *Girl from Ipanema*

Dark and gray and wet and stormy,

What do you want from California?

In the valley of bears, the raccoons say, ah-h-h

Strand lines sway across the fault zone,

Embayment length is just one unknown,

Harden indices don\'t work, and you just say, ah-h-h

*Chorus*

Ohh. . .you hope we believe you,

But how. . . . . . do your faults really move?

Yes. . . . . .the uplifts might prove,

But now that you\'ve put it in print,

How can we call it bull \_\_\_\_?

Retro-de-form-a-ble cross sections,

I hope you made some good assumptions,

Just look at your graphics, they make me say, ah-h-h!

# *Chorus* 

# **Somewhere Over The Threshold**

By Janet Sowers and K. Vincent

1985 FOP Trip

To the tune of *Somewhere Over The Rainbow*

1.  Somewhere over the threshold

    Streamlets braid,

    Making multiple channels,

    At least sometimes, anyway.

2.  Somewhere over the threshold,

    Hillslopes fail;

    We think \"pore water pressure\"

    Makes too complex a tale.

3.  Somewhere over the threshold,

    Fans entrench;

    It\'s a \"complex response;\"

    (These terms make it all make sense.)

4.  

# Somewhere over the threshold {#somewhere-over-the-threshold-1 .unnumbered}

Big rocks move;

There\'s a \"critical shear stress\"

People still try to prove.

We stand upon the mountaintop

And gaze down to the hills and streams eroding;

Where forces build and build and build

Until they reach the point where they

Begin thresholding . . .

5.  

# Somewhere over the threshold {#somewhere-over-the-threshold-2 .unnumbered}

Equilibrium is at bay;

Positive feedback overcame it,

So it swang the other way.

6.  

# Somewhere over the threshold {#somewhere-over-the-threshold-3 .unnumbered}

Hills look strange;

We have no good explanation,

Must be climatic change.

7.  

# Somewhere over the threshold

Ivory towers shine;

It built their reputations;

Why, O why not mine?

#   {#section-6 .unnumbered}

# **Job Market Blues**

U.C. Berkeley Santa Barbara\'s Day 1983

To the tune of *Hey, Look Me Over*

Hey, future employer, I\'m over here!

Fresh out of grad school, in debit up to my ears;

But I\'ve got potential, so I\'m not depressed;

They say the job market is looking up, as long as I\'m not picky\--

I could map toxic waste dumps, sampling the pits,

Teach junior college way out in the sticks;

Free lance consulting won\'t pay the bills;

If only the Survey were hiring, I\'d make enough to ear\--

And I\'ve got no publications, three in the pipes,

Qualifications don\'t look very nice;

I\'m a little bit short on experience, but let me get me some,

And look out world, here I come!

# **Cover Of The GSA**

Lyrics by Rick Ford, Greg Martinez, John Pickle, and Steve Sares \--
written on the long drive from Albuquerque to the first meeting of the
AGFG in Pinedale, Wyoming

To the tune of *Cover of the Rolling Stone*

Hey G.K. \-- Tell him who we are!

Well we\'re big geomorphers, we\'ve got

Golden trowels and we\'re loved everywhere we go,

We sing about process and we sing about form

For ten measly dollars a show.

We\'ve measured all kinds of rills,

It gives us all kinds of thrills,

But the thrill we cannot say,

Is the thrill that\'ll get ya\'

When you get your picture

On the cover of the G.S.A.

*Chorus*

G.S.A. \--Gonna see my picture on the cover

G.S.A.\-- Gonna buy five copies for my mother

G.S.A. \--Gonna see my smiling face

On the cover of the G.S.A. (on the cover of the G.S.A.)

We study incision with our stereo vision

Till our eyes streak 10R HUES.

And we\'ve measured drainage nets

Till we felt those topo blues.

We\'ve quantified cirques

Till we\'ve gone berserk.

But we\'re feeling no dismay\--

Cause the thrill it\'ll get ya\'

When you get your picture

On the cover of the G.S.A.

*Chorus*

We\'ve got a freaky professor

\--call him soil molester\--

Who drags us \'round the land

We see things all around us

# Like a cambic B in the sand

Call us \"dirt geologists,\" it won\'t bother us,

We don\'t give a damn today.

Cause the name that we\'ll have us

And the fame that we\'ll grab us

On the cover of the G.S.A.

*Chorus*

# **Stop In The Name Of Rigor**

U.C. Berkeley Santa Barbara\'s Day 1983

To the tune *Stop in the Name of Love*

STOP!! In the name of Rigor

Before you draft that figure

Baby, baby, I\'m aware of where you go

Each time you leave the lab

I watch you going down to your locker

Knowing that you\'re going out to play soccer

This time before you walk out that door

Leaving me with my modal amount

Think it over (I\'ve been good to you)

Think it over (So sweet to you)

STOP!! In the name of Rigor

Before you draft that figure

STOP!! In the name of Rigor

Before you draft that figure

Think it over, Think it over

Before you publish that absurd interpretation

Stop and think if it could hurt our reputation

So, get back there in the lab and keep cranking

So next time we can improve our ranking

This time before you walk out that door

Leaving me with my modal amount

Think it over (I\'ve been good to you)

Think it over (So sweet to you)

STOP!! In the name of Rigor

Before you draft that figure

STOP!! In the name of Rigor

Before you draft that figure

Think it over, Think it over

Before you model that thermal perturbation

Don\'t you think you should consider it\'s duration

All other science is so Micky Mousian

\'Cause it doesn\'t fit a curve that\'s Gaussian

STOP!! In the name of Rigor

Before you draft that figure\--STOP!!

# **Gimme That Ole Time Geology**

U.C. Berkeley\'s Santa Barbara\'s Day 1983

To the tune of *Gimme That Old Time Religion*

Gimme that ole time Geology, Gimme that ole time Geology

Gimme that ole time Geology, That\'s good enough for me.

Bring back the Brunton compass, Forget the pH rumpus

What\'s good enough for\_\_\_\_\_\_, That\'s good enough for me.

Gimme that ole time mapping, I\'m tired of test tube tapping

What\'s good enough for Clyde, Is good enough for me.

Out with smelly experimentals, And partial differentials

\"If you can add,\" said Lawson, \"That\'s good enough for me.\"

Where\'s that ole-time Geochem fone, Who cares about Gibbs and
Boltzmann?

It was good enough for Goldschmidt, And it\'s good enough for me.

Gimme that old time Petrology, Without that Probe Technology

It was good enough for Gilbert, And it\'s good enough for me.

Gimme those ole hand specimens, Without Weissenberg and Precision

It was good enough for Adolph, And it's good enough for me.

Gimme that ole time Geomorphology, Without pipe flow hydrology

It was good enough for Davis, And it\'s good enough for me.

Gimme that ole time seismology, No new wave propagation technology

If it\'s good enough for Bruce Bolt, It\'s good enough for me.

Gimme that ole time slide rule, You know it\'s from the old school

It\'s good enough for Luna, And it\'s good enough for me.

Gimme heat flow perturbations, Without computerizations

It was good to John Verhoogen, And it\'s good enough for me.

Gimme those ole basic studies, And profs that are your buddies

But not researching fuddies, To hell with entropy.

# **Rennie\'s Song**

Written by Marith Reheis and Doug Rennie on the dust-trap rounds, 1988
and 1989

Original tune

Sing a song, I want you all to sing along,

Sing a song that Rennie wrote in the field with me.

He loved beer, hot springs with friends far and near,

And the music that we made, singing harmony.

Doug would dance in the moonlight or broad light of day,

He\'d be there any time to help or to play.

Fireworks in the evening or coffee in bed,

He would keep us all in stitches with the things that he said, like\--

\"Desert air, gotta drink a lot of beer,

Keeps you in your sleeping bag when the morning comes.

Tarantulas, they are mighty treacherous,

Crawl into your hiking boots while you\'re catching Zs.\"

Rennie loved bright moonlight or broad light of day,

And he loathed the stinking desert (or so he would say).

Fireworks in the evening, or coffee in bed,

He would keep us all in stitches with the things that he said, like\--

\"Scorpions, when you camp upon their dens,

Crawl into your sleeping bag while you\'re collecting dust.

Mojave greens, something that I\'ve never seen,

But I see them in my dreams, keeps me up all night, so

Desert air, gotta drink a lot of beer,

Keeps you in your sleeping bag when the morning comes.\"

# **Cosmogenesis**

By Milan Pavich; written for the 1990 Penrose Conference

Obvious tune

O beautiful for polished rock, for surfaces pristine,

For all the brilliant physicists whose equations are so clean.

The helium, beryllium, chlorine and varnish too,

We\'ll date the rind, we\'ll date it blind, and publish all we find.

The lichen and the varnish grow, the surfaces erode,

But we will scoop and we will pluck the carbon we control.

The helium, beryllium, chlorine and varnish too,

But soils will yield the final truth and we can all go home.

# **Carver And Burke**

By Alan Gillespie and Marith Reheis

Written for the post-earthquake 1992 Pacific FOP, Humboldt County

To the tune of *Bonnie and Clyde*, segue to *Acres of Clams*

# Carver and Burke are independent thinkers and famous beer drinkers\--they are not like us.

Carver and Burke, they teach a lot of classes, take contracts from
jackasses\--not at all like us.

One day at the FOP, they had a little too much to drink.

They lost the capacity to think very clear, agreed to lead a field trip
next year.

So Carver and Burke selected Triple Junction in hopes that seismic
function would soon begin.

In that expectation, they were not disappointed, an earthquake soon
disjointed rocks at Mendocin.

*(break for four counts)*

But we\'re here to tell the truth about this fairy tale:

The devil found that their souls were for sale, and cut them a discount
deal.

Because of this bargain they made with the devil,

The shoreline was unleveled where the clam beds lay.

Acres of clams, gasping in the moonlight,

Not morally correct, but that\'s the price they paid.

*(segue to Acres of Clams)*

Exposing acres of clams, of clams, exposing acres of clams,

Their reprehensible bargains have murdered acres of clams.

They used to be honest geologists, they liked to dig holes and pound
rocks,

But they bargained to be great tectonicists, with models inside a black
box.

With models inside a black box, with models inside a black box,

They bargained to be great tectonicists with models inside a black box.

On moving up to Humboldt weather, pedantic existence they sought,

But the beer and the rain mixed together, afflicting their brains with
rot.

Afflicting their brains with rot, with rot, afflicting their brains with
rot.

The beer and the rain mixed together, afflicting their brains with rot.

In the prophecies they have been making, a magnitude nine would be best,

But we think they are probably faking, and we hope they won\'t make such
a mess\--

With millions of acres of clams, dead clams, with millions of acres of
clams,

Their reprehensible bargains would murder millions of clams.

And they\'re stinking to high heaven!

# **High-Resolution Climatic Humility**

By Marith Reheis

Written for 1992 AMQUA meeting, Davis, California

To the tune of *Bonnie and Clyde*

Climatic change is very complicated,

We shouldn\'t overrate the records that we find.

Signal to noise, how can we calibrate it?

The bumps and troughs of climate may be just our minds.

Carbon dates can be interpreted in so many ways,

The time crossings leave your mind in a daze,

And stratigraphy that\'s clearly crazed.

Tree-rings are great if it\'s wet enough to grow \'em,

The squiggles that they show for radiocarbon time.

Ice cores and varves are steady as Gibraltar,

Chronologies don\'t falter\-- most of the time.

But when drainages change or the icy polar winds blow,

Those errors creep in and you never will know

Lacking other dates to tell you so.

Loess is OK for cycles that are glacial,

But magnetic source of signal is a mystery.

Speleothems and corals are attractive,

Who cares about the dates? Field work\'s an ecstasy.

Glaciers advance and retreat when they bloody well please.

Interpreting permafrost\'s a relative breeze\--

Records extent to which Canadians freeze.

High resolution records are so tricky,

But global change is icky\--so we try.

# **Trench Across The Fault Tonight**

Words by Janet Sowers and Gary Simpson 1994 FOP Trip, San Francisco Bay
Area

To the tune of *Rock Around the Clock Tonight*

One, two, three meter, four meter trench,

Five, six, seven meter, eight meter trench,

Nine, tem, eleven meter, twelve meter trench,

We\'re gonna trench across the fault tonight!

1.  Got to find those fault plane slicks,

    Four or five, or six events;

    *Chorus*

    We\'re gonna trench across the fault tonight,

    We\'re gonna trench, trench, trench, trench \'till the broad
    daylight,

    We\'re gonna trench, gonna trench across the fault tonight.

2.  Does it truncate Qt2?

    Yeah, trench log changes red to blue;

3.  A piercing point would wrap it up

    Dave\'s got one at every stop;

4.  Plot those vectors nose to tail,

# Got some extra slip for sale? {#got-some-extra-slip-for-sale .unnumbered}

5.  What the heck\'s that lineament?

Just a photo fig-a-ment;

# **Ballad Of The Friends Of The Pleistocene**

By Gerry Osborn, Eric Karlstrom, and Anonymous

To the tune *My Little Buttercup*

*Chorus*

We\'re Friends of the Pleistocene, damn little ice we\'ve seen,

Listen and I\'ll tell you why\...

The ice has retreated, the lakes have depleted,

The temperature\'s risen too high.

1\. We\'ve rocks and we\'ve gravels, our mysteries unravel, a
mammoth-sized job you can see\...

With eskers and kames and plenty of names to apply to the glacial
debris.

2\. We dig in the mud and we sift through the crud, we search through
the grassland and scrub..

Some work on the bones and some work on the stones, some work in the
Faculty Club.

3\. We captured the essence of thermoluminescence, at carbon-fourteen
we\'re quite fit,

But if all we can find is a weathering rind, then we\'ll hang the whole
story on it.

(CANQUA 1982 verses)

4\. Now CANQUA\'s in session to serve our profession, all sorts of ideas
we\'ll concoct.

We\'ll hear all the news about climatic clues, and then we\'ll all go
and get crocked.

5\. Our President Bill (Mahaney) has I guess had his fill of hosting the
annual spree.

He put the cork on the meetings at York and that\'s why we\'re in
Lethbridge you see.

(GSA Flagstaff 1986 verses)

6\. In Flagstaff we\'re meeting, our colleagues we\'re greeting, to
probe an arroyo or two.

While drinking hot toddies, we\'ll ponder the wadis, promoting our own
points of view.

7\. Is it complex response or climatic nuance, or grazing by large
flocks of sheep?

We\'ll hear proclamations and learned orations\--My god, how the
bullshit runs deep!

(Retirement of Brainerd Mears Jr., 1989)

8\. Now our mentor Nip has got a firm grip on wedges which criss-cross
the land.

He slogs through the pipelines and conjures up cold times, arm-waving
with stogey in hand

9\. Now Mears is retiring, an upstart they\'re hiring, it\'s the end of
an epoch you see.

This geomorph sage of structure, process, and stage,

The William Morris Davis\....G.K. Gilbert\...Albrecht Penck\...S.H.
Knight\...and J.D. Love\...

of the Quaternary.

# **It Was A Very Good Year**

By Alan Gillespie and Marith Reheis, on the occasion of R.M. Burke\'s
birthday, Alabama Hills, 1994

When I was twenty-two, it was a very good year,

I drank some very good beer and then enlisted to avoid the war.

I drank some more, and then I swore that I would drink no more.

When I was twenty-six, it was a very good year,

It was a very good year to dig soil pits and play with dirt.

My back did hurt, my arms got sore, and then I dug some more.

When I was thirty-three, it was a very good year,

It was a very good year to lead a FOP and drink till I dropped.

I became a doc, it was crock, I went to Menlo Pock.

When I was thirty-eight, I was at Humboldt State,

I was at Humboldt State, I held the chair, a real nightmare\--

The Dean wasn\'t fair, I didn\'t care, \'cause I got hitched that year.

And now I\'m forty-eight, I\'m in the autumn of my years,

I drink much less\-- except tonight when I\'ll get tight.

But I feel blessed, I still take requests\..... (segue to *Swing Low,
Sweet Chariot*)

# **If I Had A Hammer**

By Lori Dengler, during the HSU Field Valley, 1994

If I had a hammer, I\'d hammer in the morning,

I\'d hammer in the evening, all over this land.

I\'d hammer out P-waves, I\'d hammer out air waves,

I\'d hammer out the zone between the bedrock and the soil,

All, all over this land.

If I had electrodes, I\'d juice them in the morning,

I\'d juice them in the evening, all over this land.

I\'d measure out a current, I\'d measure out a voltage,

Electrical resistance, of every little stratum,

All, all over this land.

With a magnetometer, I\'d measure out the gammas,

I\'d measure out the gammas, all over this land.

I\'d use good batteries,

I\'d strip off all my clothes,

So my data won\'t be tainted

And the numbers integrated,

All, all over this land.

Well I\'ve got a hammer, and I\'ve got electrodes

And a magnetometer, to study this land.

Black boxes I will use, I\'ll spin their little dials,

And I\'ll get all the answers, without a pit or an auger,

All, all over this land.

# **Fault-Scarp Ridin\' Cowboy**

By Marith Reheis for Bill Page at the 1995 Pacific FOP (Modoc Plateau)

To the tune of *Palo Alto Cowboy* by Reilly and Maloney

*Chorus*

Well he\'s a fault-scarp ridin\' cowboy,

He drives the Tahoe trench

From the lava tubes of Modoc

To the flows up on the Hat Creek bench

To the trench in Butt Crack Valley,

He herds us all along.

Though the crops are few and far between,

His tectonic views are strong.

From the moment that Bill

Handed us those five-pound color guides,

We could see from the daily schedule,

We were in for quite a ride.

There were panoramic overviews

Of pristine mountain peaks.

There were lengthy naptime lectures

By pmag and argon geeks.

Up at five, barely alive,

No sun to light our way\--

Good practice for those lava caves---

But no time to delay.

We sucked up all the silicosis

That our lungs could take.

We hollered \"Bill, this is a drag,

Your schedule has no break!\"

*Chorus*

# **On The Playa**

By Janet Sowers, Bob Hale, and Mark Hemphill-Haley for the Pacific FOP,
Lake Lahontan, 1997

To the tune of *Jambalaya*

*Chorus*

Wavecut fan, high lake stand, me-oh-my-ya,

And tonight we'll sing around the old campfi-ya,

Carson Sink, where we drink and frisbees fly-a,

Son-of-a-gun, gonna have good fun on the playa.

I.  

Residual plots, circular thoughts make us sigh-ya,

And we search for shorelines perched as we drive by-a,

Yes it's true, it's all new, there's one high-ya,

But son-of-a-gun, gonna have good fun on the playa.

II. 

Yes we found, it rebounds, I-so-sta-ya,

Up and down, pound for pound, can't deny-a;

On that note, take a vote, and say good-by-a,

Son-of-a-gun, we had good fun on the playa!

# **The Ballad Of Owens Lake**

Copyright July 1991 by Tom Gill; sung at 1997 Owens Valley FOP

To the tune of *Margaritaville*

# 1. Out on the dry lake watching the sun bake 

millions of tons of salt-covered dirt

Particulate readings are reaching their ceilings

my nose is bleeding, my sinuses hurt

Blowing away again from Owens Lake today

Billowing clouds of alkali salt

Some people claim that there's no one to blame

But I think...it must be someone's fault

2\. The local folks get sick and worry 'bout arsenic

The geezers in Keeler, they wheeze and they whine

China Lake's missiles go off-track and fizzle

Pollution could damage the bristlecone pines

Blowing away again from Owens Lake today

Millions of tons of evaporite salt

Someone might claim that the climate's to blame

But I think...it could be LA's fault

3\. We put up a tower run with solar power

Satellite uplink sends data back home

Well, there's dust in the samples and we'll soon get some answers

# From SENSITs deployed in the saltation zone

Blowing away today from Owens Lake again

Millions of tons of silt and of salt.

Some people claim that there's no one to blame

But I know...it must be LA's fault.

4\. Now we could plant saltgrass and hope that it grows fast

And roughen the surface with gravel or till

Or fence up some sand dunes and pray for the monsoons

Not even a typhoon would make the lake fill

Blowing away today from Owens Lake again

Billowing clouds of dust and of salt

Some lawyers may claim that there's no one to blame

But we know...it's LA's damn fault!

# **Zzyzx Black Ops**

By Alan Gillespie and Marith Reheis

Workshop on Military Use of Desert Lands, Zzyzx, 1998

To the tune *When the Caissons Go Rolling Along*

Over hill, over dale,

Tanks are making dusty trails

And the wind takes the Av away

Abrams wheel, half-tracks squeal,

How do desert critters feel

As their burrows are flattened today?

*Chorus*

Well it's crypto-Gs

For soil fertility

Liverworts and mosses we eschew

And wherever we go

Soils will always show

Hydrologic discontinuities.

Rip some soil, set some plants

Stroke the Army for some grants

But machines do the thinking today.

CPUs, RAM, virtual data we put in

As the models keep churning away.

Boundary C's if you please

Bring computers to their knees

As the models diverge from ideal

Write and plot, publish lots,

Hope that we are not found out

As we sub the virtual for real.

*Last Chorus*

Well it's hi-hi-hee

Cal Tech and MIT

Why should we go in the field?

If we do it right

And the simulation's tight

Then we won't have to know what is real.

# **Blowin' In The Wind**

By Marith Reheis

Fourth International Conference on Aeolian Research, Oxford, 1998

How many times can a barchan

Be moved before she sleeps in the sand?

How many dunes must a man walk up

Before he conceives a research plan?

Yes, and how many days must we spend in the field

Before we develop a tan?

The answers, my friends, are blowin' in the wind

The answers are blowin' in the wind

How many ways can some people invent

For quartz grains to luminesce?

How many ways can one person try

To make stupid sand confess?

Yes, and how can we blame innocent little bunnies

As causes of climatic stress?

The answers, my friends, are blowin' in the wind

The answers are blowin' in the wind

How many models must one study use

To show there is something to prove?

How many differentials are needed to show

That wind can make dust move?

# Yes, and how many methods to understand

That loess means that wind once blew?

The answers, my friends, are blowin' in the wind

The answers are blowin' in the wind.

How many storms in West Texas can blow

Until nothing's left but sand?

How much dust can one person inhale

Before her lungs can be canned?

Yes, and how many TWERPs does it take to know

That tilling the soil should be banned?

The answers, my friends, are blowin' in the wind

The answers are blowin' in the wind.

# **Nora**

By Joanna Redwine and Marith Reheis, Owens Valley 1997 FOP

To the tune of *Lola*

We came to the desert to drive a little sand

Collect a little dust and work on a tan

Then came Nora

N-O-R-A, Nora.

She came from the south down in Mexico

And how long she'll stay here, nobody knows

That's Nora

N-O-R-A, Nora

No-no-no-no Nora.

Well I'd never seen a hurricane before

But here in the desert it's just a downpour---

Nora's here and there's no mistake

The entire desert is one big lake!

El Niño's comin' to make a big splash

So we set up some stations to photograph

All the flora

F-L-O-R-A, flora.

But long before El Niño shows his face

Flowers gonna bloom all over the place

'Cause of Nora

N-O-R-A, Nora

No-no-no-no Nora

We sloshed down the fans and made it to the car

Headed for the FOP at Lone Pine, not far

But the Park Service said the pass is closed

We ran the blockade and drove the Wild Rose!

Now I'm not the world's most intelligent guy

But this time of year the desert should be dry

Don'tcha know-a

Know-know-know-know-know-a

I've never been wetter in all my days

It's a soupy, soaked-down, soggy place

Around Nora, N-O-R-A

Nora, no-no-no-no more-a,

No-no-no-no Nora

I can't take no more-a

No-no-no-no Nora!

# **The Aku Song**

By Kevin Andras and Marith Reheis, for Fred Peterson on 1998 Pacific FOP
to Yucca Mountain

1\.

Everyone\'s spirit has place to dwell. Aku-aku-ah-nay.

Come too near, you go to hell. Chaca-mo-fee-nah-nay.

Talkin\' \'bout aku, aku, aku-aku-ah-nay.

Chaca-mo fee-no, ah-nah-nay, chaca-mo-fee-nah-nay.

Talkin' 'bout aku, aku, aku-aku-ah nay.

Chaca-mo fee-no, ah-nah-nay, chaca-mo-fee-nah-nay.

2\.

Aku here and aku there, aku-aku-ah-nay.

Aku it be everywhere, chaca-mo-fee-nah-nay.

Talkin' 'bout aku, aku, aku-aku-ah nay.

Chaca-mo fee-no, ah-nah-nay, chaca-mo-fee-nah-nay.

3\.

See that soil pit over there? Aku-aku-ah-nay.

Touch it, aku take your hair. Aku-aku-ah-nay.

Talkin' bout soil pit, soil pit, aku-aku-ah nay.

Chaca-mo fee-no, ah-nah-nay, chaca-mo-fee-nah-nay.

4\.

See that pavement just ahead? Aku-aku-ah-nay.

Step on it and you be dead. Aku-aku-ah-nay.

Talkin' bout pavement, pavement, aku-aku-ah nay.

Chaca-mo fee-no, ah-nah-nay, chaca-mo-fee-nah-nay.

**Roll on Missoula**

By Thomas Dunklin

First Annual Pacific Northwest Cell of The Friends of the Pleistocene

Channeled Scablands, 1993, led by Richard Waitt and Jim O'Connor

(Sung to the Tune of *Roll on, Columbia* by Woody Guthrie)

**G D / D G / G C / D G**

J. Harlan Bretz, a determined young man

Studied the forms of this puzzling land,

His evidence showed him INVARIABLY,

That scablands were formed by **cat**-astrophe.

chorus (sing-along):

> Roll on Missoula roll on
>
> Roll on Missoula roll on
>
> You've got just two days until you'll be gone
>
> So, roll on Missoula roll on.

A plexus of channels they gave him a clue

Of what catastrophic flooding could do.

He saw the big picture, though he never flew

If you were in his shoes, then what would you do

chorus

They riduculed his "outrageous hypotheses"

The council of elders he never could please

But the elders knew nothing of features like these

The papers he wrote brought them to their knees

chorus

Now Waitt and O'Connor they spent lots of time

Preparing for FOP'ers to drive in long lines

Now no-one will question their hypotheses

Of Uniformitarian Catastrophes.

**Old and Blown Away - song for the Bishop Tuff**

Sung to the Tune : Old and In the Way by Garcia/Grisman, from the Album
of the same name.

Lyrics by Thomas Dunklin, Rocco Fiori, and Natalie Cabrera, January,
1996

CHORUS:

# Old and blown away C - D -

That's what I heard him say G - C -

So many cubic miles Am - C -

Just up and blew away C - G -

Welded tuffs and ash flows lay C - D -

Then glaciers had their day G - C -

The tills are all a-jumbled Am - C -

But in a systematic way C - G -

I.

When this one blew, poles were normal D - G -

Bruhnes/Matayuma was defined C - G - D -

I don't care what people say C - - -

How old these rocks are anyway G - Em

'Cause Allen Gillespie says Am - C -

they're seven hundred and sixty three K C - G -

CHORUS

2\.

Now all that's left is the caldera

The Bishop tuff surrounds it for a ways

The Sherwin Till is buried deep

Thru clastic dikes the air it seeks (maybe not)

How exactly we can't say

We're just stoned and blown away

CHORUS

3\.

Well if the Mountain starts to rumble

Well don't you worry 'bout a thing

The Survey says its on it way

The City Chamber says "no way"

Just in case you better know

about the scene-less scenic highway

Repeat CHORUS one last time

The Climate Is A-changin\'

Words by Thomas Dunklin

Sung to \"The times they are a-changin\" by Bob Dylan (1963)

####### Come gather round people wherever you roam

And admit that the waters around you have grown.

Watchout, for transgression may swallow your home,

For sea level just keeps on a-risin\'

So you better stop buildin\' in the old coastal zone

For the climate it is a-changin\'.

The glaciers have come and then they have gone.

Over thousands of years, yes, their cycles are long.

As the climate gets cooler, more rain it will fall

The rivers run deeper with sand, mud and all

The shoreline receeds and sea level does fall

For the climate it is a changin\'.

Climatologists, geologists who wander the lands:

Now tell us the truth if you think that you can.

Can the things that you see make sense to a man?

Are they just too complex to keep tryin\'?

If they don\'t listen soon they\'ll be dead as canned spam,

For the climate it is a changin\'.

Dynamic equilibrium is a thing of past,

The next threshold\'s comin\' along awfully fast.

We better stop thinking, and start doin\' at last

If your papers to you are worth writin\'

Complex response will keep kickin\' our ass

For the climate it is a changin\'.

Come senators, congressmen please heed the call:

The greenhouse effect is now real to us all,

As the ozone hole gets larger each fall

The burns from the sun are a killin\'.

Please open your ears, pull your heads from sand

For the climate it is a changin\'.

**FOP on the Run**

Words by Thomas Dunklin and Zack Mondry, for 1998 Yucca Mountain FOP

To the tune "Fox on the Run".

Chords:

D Am C G (4x)

D - G - (2x)

We drove thru the dust, heading out to the ballena

Our heads were a-poundin' in the hot morning sun

Taking all the soils that ole' Fred could a-give us

And he left us to fry like a FOP in the sun

Like a FOP -- in the sun

Like a FOP -- on the Run

Uranium series or uranium trend

It don't really matter \-- fits the model in the end

Lots and lots of numbers, and lots and lots of dates

lots of uncertainty, but that just what it takes -

to run a FOP -- in the sun

Like a FOP -- on the Run

Two parts charcoal, and a little bit rock varnish

Just don't get caught, or your rep will get a-tarnished

Your career it will fly, like cosmic rays to the sun

And you'll find yourself -- like a Doc on the Run

Like a Doc -- in the sun

Like a Doc -- on the run

Yeah**,** We drove thru the dust, heading out to the ballena

Our heads were a-poundin' in the hot morning sun

Taking all the soils that ole' Fred could a-give us

And he left us to fry like a FOP in the sun

Like a FOP -- in the sun

Like a FOP -- on the Run

**Fish Medley**

By Marith Reheis, for 1999 Pacific FOP to McDermitt and Alvord Valley,
NV-OR

Medley of tunes: Three Little Fishies (1^st^ tune) and Fish Gotta Swim
(2^nd^ tune)

Three grad students and professors two,

Came to the Alvord from HSU,

Mapping shores and soils and where faults broke,

Try to write it all up, drink beer, and smoke.

Boom-boom diddum-daddum waddum shoo,

(repeat twice more)

Try to write it all up, drink beer and smoke.

(shift to second tune)

Grads gotta work, grads gotta play,

Sitting in hot springs the livelong day,

Can\'t help lovin\' that Humboldt way.

Three big faults, what do they mean?

The Quinn and the Tule and the whoppin\' Steens,

Is it gravity collapse or dextral shear?

With kinematic modeling, all is so clear.

Boom-boom etc.

With kinematic modeling, all is so clear.

Faults gotta break, crust gotta strain,

Make basins closed that never drain,

Fish gotta wait for the major pluvial rains.

A dace and a chub and a cutthroat too,

Down in Owyhee when a flood came through,

Swim, said the chub, let\'s go explore

And they swam Crooked Creek right up to Alvord.

Boom-boom etc.

And they swam Crooked Creek right up to Alvord.

Fish gotta swim, fish eggs don\'t fly,

Cruise between lakes before they dry,

Hide up creeks, or desiccate and fry.

Grads gotta work, grads gotta play,

Sitting in hot springs the livelong day,

Can\'t help lovin\' that Humboldt way.

Can\'t help lovin\' that Humboldt way.

Can\'t help lovin\' that Humboldt way.

**IF I HAD A BACKHOE**

Written by Jennifer Harden, probably 1986 at Zzyzx

1\.

If I had a backhoe, I'd dig in the morning,

I'd dig in the evening all over this land.

I'd dig out lava flows, I'd dig out end moraines,

I'd dig out the contact between the Bt and Bkq

All, all over this land.

2\.

If I had a student, I'd run all analyses

From Fed to Mausbauer, all over this land.

I'd sample just scores of soils from surfaces young to old,

At intervals of centimeters for microprobe and paleomag,

All, all over this land.

3\.

Now I have a strong back, a shovel and a pick,

And I have holes to dig all over this land.

I'll make slow progress, run only prep and size,

But I'll keep on dreaming of backhoes, bucks and student labor

All, all over this land.

**DEATH VALLEY DREAMIN'**

By Marith Reheis, Feb. 2001, Pacific FOP, Death Valley

Tune: California Dreamin' by the Mamas and Papas

1\.

All the mud is brown, and the salt is gray,

I went for a walk across the playa today.

Should be drinkin' beer and watchin' palm trees sway,

Death Valley dreamin' on such a winter's day.

2\.

Waded through a lake that lay across the way,

Lord, I sank up to my knees, and I began to pray,

"You know I'm stuck here in the salt, please don't send rain today!"

Death Valley dreamin' on such a winter's day.

3\.

There's scarps at Mormon Point, so most geologists say,

If we weren't the best of Friends, there'd be hell to pay.

"It's not a fault, it's a beach, as any fool can see."

Death Valley dreamin' Pleistocene geology.

4\.

Slept upon a fault near Furnace Creek last night,

Well the earth began to shake, I had a terrible fright.

Strain accommodation on several intersecting splays,

Death Valley dreamin' could be a nightmare today!

Repeat 1.

All the mud is brown, and the salt is gray,

I went for a walk across the playa today.

Should be drinkin' beer and watchin' palm trees sway,

Death Valley dreamin' on such a winter's day.

**OSTRACODE'S GARDEN**

By Marith Reheis, September 2001, Pacific Northwest FOP, Summer Lake,
Oregon

Tune: Octopus's Garden by the Beatles

1\.

I'd like to play under a wave in an ostracode's garden in a lake,

I'd dance about when ash falls out, turn somersaults in a big
earthquake.

I could ride down the gravity grade, if I only knew which way to go,

I'm so confused, it makes me blue, because I thought FOP leaders would
know.

2\.

When landslides come, I'd turn and run, it'll shoot me 'cross the
bottom, anyway,

I'll laugh and shout, turn inside out, as thrusting folds the beds in
which I lay.

I'll deform so brittlely now as extension makes the mud attenuate,

So just you wait, let's fill the lake, and see if ostracodes can
boudinate.

3\.

And don't you guess, we'll make a mess of the climatic proxies that you
take?

Stage 12 and 8 are replicates, doubled by the thrusts under the lake.l

Dansgard-Oeschger cycles we will fake, in our little hideaway beneath
the waves,

I'd like to wait under a lake in an ostracode's garden for you,

In an ostracode's garden for you,

In an ostracode's garden for you.

**DIXIE**

By: Marith Reheis, September 2002, Pacific FOP, Dixie Valley, Nevada

Tune: Dixie, of course

1\.

Oh I wish I was in the Land of Faultin', earthquakes there are not
forgotten,

Shook away, shook away, shook away, Dixie Land.

In Dixie Land where scarps were born in, early on one frosty mornin',

Slip away, slip away, slip away, Dixie Land.

Chorus:

And I wish I'd been in Dixie, that day, that day,

In Dixie Land where piedmont fans were broke that day in Dixie.

That day, that day, that day out west in Dixie!

We pray today, we pray for quakes in Dixie!

2\.

Oh I wish I'd been on Rainbow Mountain, earthquakes came to fast to
count 'em,

Shook away, shook away, shook away, Carson Sink.

Tsunami waves on Lake Lahontan, beach rocks rolled up Rainbow Mountain,

Slip away, slip away, slip away, Carson Sink.

Chorus:

And I wish I'd been in Dixie, that day, that day,

In Dixie Land where piedmont fans were broke that day in Dixie.

That day, that day, that day out west in Dixie!

Hurray, hurray, hurray for Friends in Dixie!

**Draft (needs more work!)**

By: Marith Reheis, begun in 1983, AGFG, Chaco Canyon, New Mexico

Tune: Dark as a Dungeon

1\.

Come and listen, young people, so bright and so fit,

And seek not your fortune by digging soil pits.

It will structure your habits and color your work

Till the stream of your blood runs as brown as the dirt.

Where the soil is argillic but the clay skins are few,

If the B's are pre-Sangamon but the carbonate is new,

When field work and lab data don't really fit

Then it's easy to blow it way down in the pit.