‘Twas the night before Solstice, and I felt so blue.
Hadn’t made any plans; didn’t know what to do.
Some people had said that this day was the End;
I’d hoped I could share it with maybe one friend.
When out on the porch, there arose such a clatter;
I sprang to the door to see what was the matter.
And what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But Woodchuck and Flatty; my brothers are here!

Oh ho the surprise, and oh ho the delight!
Oh how many hugs went around on this night!
I broke out the goodies I’d saved for a while and
Then Flatty regaled us with great tales from Thailand!
For ten years, he’d taken medicinal courses
To tend to sick critters from monkeys to horses.
Last year when the country sank deep underwater,
He’d swum to their aid with the speed of an otter!

We chatted for hours; we talked about Mother.
A decade’s too long to not see one another.
He said that she’s well and she misses us greatly,
Obsessed though she’s been with her Tuho Club lately.
I talked about George, how the Earth I have scoured,
“George ditched us,” said Flatty, his mood firmly soured.
A little offended, but, more than that, tired,
I planned out the morning and promptly retired.

I woke them at dawn to explore the Jewel City,
So named for the buildings that make it look pretty.
I’ve lived here a year, and it’s really quite swell.
It’s also where tons of Armenians dwell!
I really don’t mind that, except for one reason:
At least once a year in the start of heat season,
A stranger has stepped up and knocked on my door,
Asking “Are you Armenian?” and not one word more!

All this notwithstanding, I think Glendale’s neat;
Most of life’s needs are found just up the street!
Three malls and three theaters, at least one salon;
A psychic to say where your money has gone!
There are parks and a gym, a car dealership row,
And Porto’s, to which no sane beaver says, “No.”
A breakfast at Porto’s would be so exquisite;
My brothers agreed we should all pay a visit.

We started up north along Brand Boulevard,
Not yet at this hour excessively carred.
Before reaching Porto’s, though hunger was mountin’
I wanted to show them a really neat fountain.
Though not as exotic as darkest Sumatra,
It’s still a great place to come hear ol’ Sinatra!
The centerpiece, gold as a seafarer’s tooth,
Is titled “The Spirit of American Youth.”

Its namesake still honors the fallen of France,
Which Rick J. Caruso encountered by chance,
And ordered a copy if one could be sold,
To land in his shopping mall, covered in gold.
It worked in his favor, and so, by some mystery,
He brought here to Glendale this likeness of history.
Yet Flatty remarked “That is really bad taste.”
And ravenous Woodchuck said “No time to waste!”

Afraid that this outing might go to the dogs,
I took these two grumps to the fountain of frogs!
I come here sometimes when I’m sad or I’m surly,
But now it was quiet! We’d come here too early!
Determined to give a good name to my town,
I dragged them up Brand, then a little back down.
I wanted to show them some really neat places
I thought would put smiles on their groggy, glum faces!

The first was a building of dizzying height,
Art deco by day, likely haunted at night!
A man named Art Lindley constructed this building,
For Masonic meetings (and Lollipop Guilding?).
It seems many Orders found Glendale appealing,
And Lindley thought all should fit under one ceiling!
He built such a building, his skills so exerted,
That most of its floors remained always deserted!

Art Lindley chose better a bit up the street,
Designing a theater I think is neat.
The Alex hosts festivals, movies, and plays,
At times bringing poets, at others, ballets!
I mean to attend while in Glendale I’m living,
At least the Three Stooges Fest every Thanksgiving!
Still, we were too early; the Alex was closed,
So onward to Porto’s we ran, unopposed!

The magic of Porto’s restored Solstice cheer!
We gorged like we’d waited to eat for a year!
Each rich guava strudel and spinach croissant
Explained why this place is my regular haunt!
And then, as by magic or fortune or prayer,
The sun poked his head through that gray marine layer!
Imbued with new vigor, we three stufféd beavers
Burst forth like three marathon overachievers!

The nice thing about having family stop by
Is getting to do what you’ve long meant to try!
I’ve wondered about a white cross on a hill
And thought it might give everybody a thrill.
At night, it shines forth like a great luminary,
But as we found out, it’s a huge cemetery!
Though slightly macabre, this place came with a shock:
A show on Picasso and Léger and Braque!

All pictures were banned, yet we hiked up, undaunted!
We knew that, by day, this place wouldn’t be haunted!
The sketches were abstract, some based on the Greek.
Some told all about Le Cocu Magnifique!
The painting that struck me and made me go “Whoa…”
Was Léger’s bright portrait of Arthur Rimbaud,
A muse of these painters who scrapped prose to roam
And left us with “Ville” whose message hits home!

Adventures must end just as every day wanes,
So lastly we went to see Travel Town’s Trains!
Will Fredrickson, Junior, concocted this park
Because many children were still in the dark
On workings of planes, trains, and automobiles,
Like how engines look and a plane cockpit feels!
He missed out on planes from the Second World War;
However, he got lots of trains to explore!

If railroads had never pushed west all this way,
We’d never have heard of this place called LA!
They brought in live cattle and exported oil!
They brought hopeful farmers to work on the soil!
Exchanges of goods and ideas were the key!
With railroads and ports, LA reaped from the sea!
Though now the original train tracks are gone,
At Travel Town, memories surely live on!

So Flatty and Woodchuck and I ran about,
Quite merrily climbing and racing throughout.
We rode on the mini train all around Town
Then noticed the sun had begun to go down.
When finally it set on this shortest of days,
We all returned home to recover and laze.
With family, my home had become more exciting,
And that’s when my brothers commenced their inviting:

“So Bill,” Flatty said with a blatant agenda,
“We both like your town and your nice hacienda.”
“We know you’re resourceful,” said Woodchuck, “and clever,
But surely you cannot sustain this forever.”
I knew what they meant, for the bills had been growing,
And masses of readers have not made a showing.
“Come with us to Utah,” said Woodchuck. “It’s great.
You’re bound to do well in the big Beehive State!

“It has its own landmarks for you to seek out
And national parks that you’ll learn all about!
The state’s in a place to make travel convenient,
So really you won’t be too lax or too lenient.
The people are friendly, the air is much cleaner,
And prices are cheaper to cheer your demeanor.
Plus also your family is closer, more real.
George ain’t returning, despite how you feel.”

I thought long and hard about what they said,
Until a clear thought popped right into my head.
It’s true times are tough now with limited spending,
But I learned today that the world isn’t ending.
As sure as the night is so dark before dawn,
I know I’ll find ways for the quest to go on.
And though I am glad for two brothers of three,
One hundred percent is important to me.

I’ll visit my siblings wherever they settle,
But Glendale’s the place where I must prove my mettle.
At first they were sad, but they soon understood.
That’s one of the nice things about brotherhood.
We Beavers stray far, and no one knows when;
But someday we’ll all be together again.
Until then our doors and our arms remain open,
Our eyes ever outward, our hearts ever hopin’.

So with a new hat and new level of cheer,
We wish you all joy in this upcoming year!