Jack's First Aggie Experience

When we arrived at the game, Jack was mystified by the arena and the vibes. We entered at the end of the arena, just above the tunnels where the players emerge. One is visible at the right side of the picture. I watched Jack stand for a moment, and then he sat down in an unoccupied seat at the top. After watching him for a moment, I had him stand and go with us to our seats where this picture happened.

He watched the entire game without taking his eyes away from the floor, except when grandma took him to the concessions and Utah State Bookstore booth, where she bought him a T-shirt.
He was proud of his new shirt. And grandma getting him that and some other fun things too. He came back with popcorn and other goodies. The funny thing about their concessions is the fact that the popcorn still smells just as nice as it did when I was in the old Field House at my first game there in the late 60's. My only disappointment was that the band was not there, since it was still during Christmas break.

When Ann and I were at Utah State in our graduate programs in the late 80's, there were two things that made the game unforgetable--the band, and throwing rolls of toilet paper as far as you could throw your roll after the Aggies scored their first basket. They don't do that anymore. I'm sure Mr. Whipple felt the "squeeze" from that move by the NCAA. For those "young whippersnappers" who have no idea who Mr. Whipple was, he was the grocer who warned customers not to squeeze the Charmin in commercials in the "olden days."

As for the band, I remember the fun things they did. They would start with a drum, and then they would chant, "The Green Iguana!" Why they did it, I have no idea, but it was funny, and they waved a giant plastic lizard all while they did it. Minutes later, they would hold a large plastic chicken fryer in the air, "Tastes great!" Then they would hold the Green Iguana in the air again. "Less filling!" The arena would erupt in laughter.

The new generation just doesn't know how to have fun.
We were excited about the fact that Kristin could go with us to the game. Ann and Kristin came in the Bug after she finished work. Connie worked the magic again and was able to get us tickets.

Jenny enjoyed being with the group at the game, and as evidence that Jack is now getting older, he refused to sit by her when she asked him. He was embarrassed. I find that funny, because when he was just little and first able to talk, he would talk to any girl over the age of three and under the age of 80. "My name is Jack," he would tell them. They would say how cute he was, and it just encouraged him to do it whenever we went into a store.

I find it interesing how my daughters do not like their picture taken. They are shy about it. I am the same way, but I dislike my picture taken for a different reason: I don't want someone's camera to steal my soul.

I can't believe we didn't take more pictures, especially of Leslie and Cles. We only have these few of Leslie, and there is not one of Cles. The rode to Logan with Jack and me. Jack watched movies the entire trip with Leslie. Cles sat in the front and helped me select 60's music that wouldn't irritate anyone. We arrived at Connie and Doug's house, expecting to stay for an hour or so before leaving for the game. It was impossible to get Jack to leave. He loved playing with Connie's kids.The game was fantastic. Utah State won. Jack experienced a first, his first college basketball game, and we all had a great time with Cles and Leslie a few days before they left for home.

The Things We Remember About Erma

Kristin wanted a drawer to her desk that was in our garage, and after she found it last night, she began going through things she kept in it. There was a card from her Grandma Thomas, one that expresses so many things that were fun about her.

I remember Erma a number of different ways. One year after she lived a while in her new house, she had the entire family come to dinner. There was a large table set in the dining area for adults, and she also had rolled out carpet in the two-car garage and set up a table there for grandchildren there too.

During the dinner, I went to check on our three children, whenever I heard anything that sounded like the little dears in the garage were having "way too much fun." I had already set my plate down twice with food, and after returning to a spot to retrieve a fork or knife or getting food for one of my children, I noticed my plate was gone. It happened again when I checked things in the garage to ensure that my children were not doing anything to hurt the new house. Again my plate was gone. It happened five times.

The last time it happened, I finally found out what was happening to my food. Each time that Erma saw a plate unattended, she took it to the sink and discarded the food and put the plate in the sink. Erma was an incredible host, and she was just making sure that everything was tidy. Ann and I still laugh about it when we think about that day.

But the other thing are the things she made for us. The inside of the card that Kristin found talked about that very thing.

When Ann and I were in high school and both attending Second Ward in Malad, we had a Sunday School teacher we all loved and enjoyed. Brent Howard was incredible. He read the lesson and emphasized the main points we needed to know, and then we talked together. What made him so incredible is he listened to us. Brent was a fantastic teacher, because we knew he "liked" us, something not necessarily true with all those who taught our large group in Second Ward. It was our group that boasted having "run out" many teachers who did not care about us, or at least that was the impression we had about them.

Once a week during the summer, our class organized a swimming party at Downata Hot Springs in Downey, Idaho, which was only forty minutes away at the time on the Interstate and old highway. Our group would ask Ann to volunteer her mother to bake a cake for us each time, and she did. It was always a three-layered chocolate cake with rich, dark frosting.

This picture happened at least 12 years before those parties at the pool, but most of the group is here, except for me. My family lived on the ranch during the week, but when I was older, my dad always made sure we drove to Malad on those evenings when I had these parties. I rarely missed one, unless we were harvesting grain or some other major problems took place.

And like all of my peers at Second Ward, my children loved Erma's cakes too. She made one every week and had it ready for when we visited her on Sundays.

Oh, and Erma also made individual puddings and tiny bowls of jell-o for grandchildren too. They were always waiting in the refrigerator, just in case they were still hungry after cake and ice cream.

This is the last photograph I think we have with my Annie's family together like this. Things change so quickly. I still remember the jokes Marvin told me at the restaurant that day. They were not off-colored, but they were hilariously funny.

After Erma's passing, the only place in the house that showed carpet wear was in front of her fridge. And I am sure that the grandchildren will remember opening its door every time they visited grandma.

Christmas Morning

Jack spent the night at grandma and Pop Pop's on Christmas Eve. He opened two presents that night after a late dinner--a present with new Star Wars pajamas and a gift with some Star Wars Galactic Hero Cinema Scene figures. He was so excited that I was afraid that I wouldn't get him to sleep, but he dozed off as soon as he hit the pillow. It was busy for a while after that. I spent about an hour or two to ensure that he was asleep before I finished a few things and went to bed myself.

Grandma had him wake me before the excitement got out of hand on Christmas day. It was not too early. As a young one, I was awake at 2:00 a.m. Jack was much better than I in allowing the "old" people in the house to get a decent night's sleep. It was 7:00 a.m. or so when I felt a slight nudge on my arm. "Pop Pop! Santa's been here." He didn't repeat the words a second time. I heard his steps on the stairs. I came down immediately to see him excited about his new Millenium Falcon, Clone helmet and music maker.
We didn't open the large ship. We had to let his mom think about where to put it. It only took a couple of days to figure an option. We put the Queen sized bed in the room with his toys on Craig's List. Someone picked it up within 24 hours, and it left enough room for toys, his desk--an set of wooden desks we bought from the school in the 70's that were old when grandma and Pop Pop went to school--his clothes, and an air mattress that we could inflate when he and his cousin were in town. Sleepovers at grandma and Pop Pop's house would allow him to use the other bedroom when he needed it.
The music machine had his attention immediately. I had already decided to get him some violin lessons if his mom is willing. We have the small instruments for him and Tommy and Anna. But this machine was really fun. It teaches basic keyboard skills, singing skills, and as interesting as it was, there was a small recording device that made it possible to record his playing and singing that he does as he creates something. The small hand-held recorder is like an I-Pod. Jack spent the morning walking around playing his creations. At first he did it with his headphones, but then he became more confident and played it so everyone could hear it.

And then came the presents under the tree. Pop Pop enjoyed this part, knowing that
Tommy was opening the same gifts in Minnesota. Anna had her gifts too, but the fun part for grandpa was watching Jack's enthusiasm and knowing that Tommy was just as excited.
What makes everything worth it is the sparkle in a child's eyes, the same reason I enjoy taking my three little ones to Disneyland. It's the ritual we play the same way each trip that makes it fun, having a contest to see which child can see the Tower of Terror first before we enter the entrance for cars before preceeding to the parking garage.

And what childhood would be complete without receiving the game named after those creepy things you accuse other unfortunate children of having. Has a generation of children existed without saying, "He's got cooties!"

At this point, Jack must be wondering, another bug game? The name of this game--Ants in my Pants is interesting. I actually knew classmates my teachers accused of having had this problem. I knew it was not really so, because I had this uncle who said there was an elephant under the kitchen table who made bad noises too, but I always knew it was my uncle.Now in this picture, I sit mystified by the instructions that some Pakistani dude wrote for pennies an hour, and it did not read like Shakespeare in any stretch of the imagination. In fact, for all intents and purposes, it could have been a lawn mower manual, because it was not all that clear. I actually wondered at this point if the character cut and pasted the instructions for a mower in with the graphics of the instructional manual for my grandson's Clone helmet. And just in case both my grandsons continue their reading skills in Kindergarten ahead of schedule, the Pakastani dudes are the best of Santa's helpers at the North Pole. They are the ones who smell like curry. And did I say that Jack and Tommy like Star Wars. It's a family tradition. Pop Pop did the same thing with Uncle Cles. The toys are still fun for Pop Pop to play with when he is home alone with nothing to do and no football to watch on TV.

Buying Some New Ornaments

We arrived in Salt Lake City on New Year's Eve. We had a reservation at Rodizio Grill at Trolley Square, so we went there immediately. It had been years since returning. In fact it was my first time back there since the tragic shooting that occurred there a few years ago. Sadly, many of the shops are now no longer there, but there was this one place that had great Christmas decorations, and we bought five. As soon as we returned on New Year's Day, I had Jack help us place them on the tree. It is always difficult for me to take a Christmas tree down after the end of the holiday. Some years, I begin watching some classic holiday movies and listening to my favorite Christmas CD's in July or earlier. During my marriage, the main source of irritation for my Annie is this reluctance to take the tree down. The latest was February. It was one of the first years we had our first artificial tree, and it was quite heavy. I was working night classes, and I coaxed to keep it up until the weekend. The trick worked every week, until Valentine's Day was just around the corner. It was on that night that I foolishly turned the lights on as soon as I returned from one of the three nights a week of night classes. It was nine or ten in the evening. My Annie damned me all to hell and threatened to drag the tree out the front door the next evening if I didn't do it that Saturday. I never did that again.

I didn't do it again because she cursed me a bit, because that happens whenever I tease her, which happens as often as I can. It happened because the next year arrived, and it was late when we put the tree together. My Annie was not excited about having a tree so long. Late for me is the second week in December. When I said how badly I felt, my Annie piped up and said, "Well, it will be here until Easter, so there's nothing to feel badly about."

I took it down as soon as I could. And it was mid January, but I took it down. The only other year of a delay was when we didn't put one up at all. Our entire family spent Christmas on a cruise to the Bahamas. It was the year when Titanic came to theaters, and our family--exhibiting the bizarre sense of humor we have--spent the evening before our departure going to the theater to see the movie. I will never forget Christmas Eve. Cles and I were walking on a warm Florida evening to the motel's classy hot tub that was outside. We boarded the ship on Christmas Day. It was a fantastic trip, and it was the only year that I didn't miss our tree.

The Beginnings of Being A Bear Fan

The Urlacher jersey was something that made me smile when grandma found it in a TJ Max in Layton. Uncle Cles enjoyed it as well, and as for Pop Pop, it made the perfect addition to Pop Pop's Chicago Dick Butkus jersey. The numbers 51 and 54 merge the past and present like two bookends with two players: Dick Butkus, who Pop Pop enjoyed watching when he was in junior high, and Urlacher, who Pop Pop enjoys watching every time he can see a Bears game.After Cles and Leslie arrived, a few days before New Years Day, the two show off their jerseys. My earliest memories of the Chicago Bears were when I was in junior high. It was the defense I enjoyed watching, and yes, I was a fan of both Gale Sayers--The Kansas Comet--and Brian Piccolo, the running back from Wake Forest. The tandem was fun to watch, but I have to admit, I looked forward to seeing Butkus every week they were on television. The score never mattered. I liked watching him twist and wrestle running backs and quarterbacks to the ground. Years later I still enjoy hearing stories about his antics, like the time he bit a ref in a pile of athletes on the ground. Larry Csonka, the incredible Miami Dolphin back told the story on Monday Night Football. It was a home game in Chicago, and the commentators set Butkus up perfectly by asking him about what happened. Butkus then talked about how people embellish stories and make up things. Then they told Butkus that Larry Csonka had something to say. Csonka told about how a pile consisted of offensive and defensive players and one ref. Somewhere in the mass of humanity that gouged at each others eyes and hit and kicked each other, Butkus bit the leg of a ref. Without a doubt, it is my favorite story about the former standout.
It's not a story that I will tell to teach my grandsons about the joys of sportsmanship on the field, but it is one that I may tell to instill in them the passion that is the game of football. The passion I felt both watching games as a young junior high student and playing as a varsity high school athlete. I never bit anyone. I had a full-faced helmet, so that would have been impossible, but I used my fists, elbows, knees, feet with all the strength I had to give my opponents lumps.
And did I mention that this picture makes me smile the most.

The Millenium Falcon Present

Santa Claus does not always bring what grandma and Pop Pop would like to see, although Pop Pop not only was excited for Jack to have this addition to Jack's fleet of Star Wars ships, but he also intends on making sure that Tommy has one as soon as he returns to Viking temperatures in Minnesota. The bad part about this toy is the fact that it is too big for someone like Jack or Tommy to lift, yet it's a good thing too. By placing it on a card table, Jack plays with it for hours without pulling off any of the parts, which happens to the other toys when they fall to the floor occasionally. The toy has also been great by allowing Jack to use his imagination. I hear him talking to his Star Wars friends while playing intently, something that will only happen a year or two longer, and then, unless he wishes to be seen as eccentric, he will stop doing that. He already shows signs of reaching a point where this will not happen much longer.

One day while playing, grandma asked him about one of his imaginary friends. Jack looked at grandma and said, "They're not real grandma. They are just pretend." In my 25 years of teaching, I taught for supervisors who didn't have that firm a command of reality.

Clonetrooper Jack

Christmas is a special time--a time of opening presents and seeing the sparkle in a child's eyes, a time of watching little ones get something they have been wanting for months, a time of watching how creative children can be. Jack has wanted a Clone helmet for years, and every time we went into a store, he began to remind me and grandma just how badly he wanted that toy. Whether it was at a store or in the back seat of the Jetta or Bug, Jack played the role of a Skywalker--either Luke or Anakin. Meanwhile, grandma was always a princess. I was always Obi-Wan. I guess I just look older than grandma. And the blasters he has accumulated over the years also have been very useful after Christmas. It is probably why the house is almost like a vacuum whenever he goes home. The quiet is difficult for grandma and I to enjoy. We prefer to sit in an easy chair, light saber or blaster in hand, fighting duals with our young Jedi.

This new helmet is great, because it gives Jack a chance to speak through a tiny microphone. His little boy voice sounds differently in a galactic sort of way as only Jack and Tommy can do. When that is not enough, Jack pushes a button that automatically makes statements from any number of movies or other Star Wars production.

The game, however, ends for grandpa when Jack decides to use a storeage bin for a spaceship that is about to descend down a staircase. Pop Pop has a coronary. Grandma laughs while taking a picture. And Jack is traumatized by the screams of his Pop Pop before the bin can slide even a millimeter.

Mickey Does Fireworks Too

The last day for us on our November Disneyland trip was perfect: just like the previous four days there. In the evening, it started to get crowded before the fireworks. We wanted to see the artificial snow they used in front of the Disneyland castle, so we found a place to wait. It didn't work. And what made everything so frustrating was the fact that the massive crowd made it impossible to stay together.

I was lost twice. Finally I found my Annie and Jack and Kristin. One Disney worker told us to move, and after we told him how difficult it was for us to get anywhere to see, he took us to the perfect spot. This is a short clip at the end of the fireworks.

Buzz Lightyear

Ever since our February 2005 visit after my nasty fight with chemo, this part of the ride was always a fun spot. Both Jack and Tommy would stand and watch the cartoon character give them instructions about how to hunt Zurg and his rogue robots. The boys were always ready to man their stations and do their best to become galactic gunslingers.

An Evolving Christmas Eve Tradition

Christmas Eve has always been a tradition for us. There was a meal. We listened to a Perry Como Christmas album where he recites scriptures from Luke about the birth of Christ. And then, after getting a new pair of pajamas, there was a chance to open one present.

Over the years the meal became less of a tradition. We never liked having a lot of people at a meal on Christmas Eve, so that one changed. And turkey and ham are rarely on the menu. This rear Jack and Kristin came for prime rib.

Although I have the Perry Como album on CD, my children were never fans of his music, Christmas or otherwise. I miss that tradition, but we never really did that in our own home. We always read the verses on our own, and we usually sang some Christmas songs, but this year was different. It was too late by the time we finished eating. Jack was excited to open a gift.

There is something to be said about what boys--both young and old--like for Christmas. Ann laughed at a visit at a UPS store we do business with, because we know the owner who also lives near us. When the young owner and I began talking about a race car set we had seen in a toy store, my Annie grinned, just like that character from Alice in Wonderland.

As soon as we returned to the car, she couldn't wait to say what was on her mind. "What is with it with men buying toys for children that they want to play with on Christmas day?"

We helped Jack find the right one to open on Christmas Eve--a gift he had not already found somewhere in the house in the days or weeks or months before that night before we wrapped it, a gift that he had never seen in a store while shopping with grandma and Pop Pop, a gift my Annie and I could recognize by its shape and wrapping.

We had him open the first of two Galactic Hero Cinema Scenes, one depicting a scene from Return of the Jedi.

The minute he spotted the speeders and
Ewoks he had not seen before, he was ecstatic and excited to get it out of the packaging.
Opening one of these requires more than a PhD or a MA or MBA. It requires the skills of Harry Houdini, thanks to the giles of sticky-fingered shoppers across the globe. How anyone could remove any part of the set from the box without a complicated set of tools is something I would never believe, but Jack was patient, because he knew that his Pop Pop was slow, but he also knew that he would never give up until it was open without damaging one single piece. But as soon as I began handing him the individual pieces and tiny figures, Jack's eyes sparkled, just like I'm sure Tommy's eyes did in Minnesota when he opened the same gift.