| Born on the prairies in TRIUMF tradition, |
| the second of six Vogt family additions, |
| Erich soon showed that he loved competition, |
| conceived an interest in nuclear fission |
| and set out to overcome all opposition. |
| Erich took leave of his fair Manitoba |
| for Princeton, where he's now a Department prober. |
| Perhaps his dignity still must recover |
| from a party to celebrate school being over, |
| the only time he's been seen not sober. |
| Through Birmingham he continued his story |
| to Chalk River National Laboratory, |
| where Erich pursued the implacable quarry |
| of knowledge, while stocking his inventory |
| of children and accolades solemn and hoary. |
| Vice President Erich, we were shown, |
| had a will of iron, not a heart of stone. |
| He treated the UBC tribe like his own, |
| but that student reporter should have known |
| his position on sensitive issues was "prone." |
| Despite this penchant for un-P.C. quips, |
| he was offered the TRIUMF Directorship. |
| As Erich accepted, he made one more slip: |
| "This is only for five years - read my lips!" |
| (Not counting, of course, the time spent on trips.) |
| In fact, Erich stayed for "two terms and a while" |
| as the KAON proposal passed trial after trial. |
| Through political intrigues like Penrose tiles, |
| we learned to love Erich's management style: |
| "Come in with a worry, go out with a smile!" |
| And thus with his vision we all were infected, |
| and all to KAON became connected. |
| Oh what a relief, to be briefly protected |
| from "realist's" sad, morose and dejected |
| predictions that KAON would soon be rejected. |
| They were right, I guess - KAON finally fell, |
| but defeat is no shame in a battle fought well. |
| It was wise of the bureaucrats not to tell |
| Erich Vogt they wouldn't build KAON 'till Hell |
| froze over; we'd freeze it! |
| (And there they could dwell.) |
| |
| Tomorrow we start with a brand new boss: |
| Alan Astbury is his name. |
| He'll have to rewrite the rules of the game |
| to build new victories out of our loss. |
| If Alan intends to avoid any anguish, |
| he'll remember our birthdays, every one, |
| the names of our spouses, daughters and sons, |
| and cheerful greetings in every language. |
| But one thing I'm sure he will freely confess: |
| he must learn to lean out of his office and yell, |
| "VOGT!!!" with the requisite decibels |
| or pay for conventional public address. |