Outside a restaurant in Driggs at the small airport, there is an incredible view of two things--the Tetons and a number of planes that take off during your meal.Jack was with us last Monday, and we watched a number of small planes take off in the short time we were there. Jack's eyes widened each time the engines accelerated, just before the race down the runway and a climb into the sky.
Today was a trip for Grandma and Pop Pop. Jack stayed home to have fun with his mom, but I wish he could have seen the two gliders that landed today, but the most interesting was the small one-engine Navy jet. I can't identify fighters from the Korean and Viet Nam Wars like my son can, but it was incredible to see and hear the jet make its way into the sky. Jack would have loved seeing that.
Ann does contract work for the Idaho Department of Education, helping schools improve by observing and giving suggestions from the training she does. Just like she does with everything else from making jam to teaching children, she does extremely well. A short distance away from that restaurant is the school, where Ann did some work this year and will continue in September.
I'm just in this thing for the drive with my Sweetie. It gets me into some great spots to take pictures, and besides, it's nice to listen to what Grandma calls "Jonie's Groovy Music." My I-pod is a modern day miracle, containing a good portion of my music collection in a small instrument small enough to fit into the palm of my hand. It contains everything, except for my jazz, classical music, and some of the modern things I like to hear on occasion.
The only objection I had during the entire day was the jerk sitting at a table near us. It's impossible not to encounter people like that during a day in the public. But at the restaurant, haunted by wealthy visitors, it's often to meet eccentric people with big mouths and little class if any at all.
Last time, an old guy had the voice of Sam Elliott down. You'd think that someone trying to talk like a notable actor of Westerns would say something profound, but other than a few minor euphemisms and ignorant political rambling, he said nothing. He was just annoying.
But today was something more. This kid mentioned going home to Minnesota, but he didn't have the accent. He didn't say, "Oh, ja," or pronounce the word "about" in an interesting way that people do from Canada or Wisconsin or even parts of North Dakota. They say "a-boat," and any word with an "o" in it sounds pretty much the same way. Oh, and I've not met many Minnesota people who were loud and obnoxious.
This guy was a contractor working in Driggs for the wealthy and famous people there. He occasionally spoke of native Idahoans, like when he told this child with them this: "We don't much like people of your type who wear their Paawjamas in public."
I felt better when he said he lived in New Jersey for nine years. But I've been in Newark a couple of times, and if I were from Jersey, I wouldn't have claimed the guy sitting at that table.
He helped me remember what my father once said about contractors: "I've never met a person who was still in love with a contractor after the job." For the most part, it's not just a stereotype, although this guy seemed pretty stereotypical.
Ann and I finished the meal by sharing a slice of caramelized cheesecake. They used one of those little "flame thingers" to create a crust on one side, just like you see on that Cream whatever dessert that Jack and I love so much. The sweet tasting thing helped me forget the clown sitting next to us, until he made some comment about his fries. But since they were sweet potato fires, not something related to anything Idaho, I forgot the bore, and we started home.
We stopped at the top of the hill overlooking the beautiful valley beneath the Tetons for a few pictures. If I were ever to own a tract of land, I would love to have something with a stream running through it.
There was a bit of breeze on this summer day. And it was formally the first day of summer. It would have been nice to hear crickets, but I suppose that early afternoon is too early for that. The meadow lark was nice, but the view itself was enough to make the visit spectacular.
But you can't forget the Tetons, the reason I wanted to be here so badly. Last Monday saw a bit of rain, and clouds covered the peaks like a shroud. Today's picture is something I dedicate to the lonely French trappers from the nineteenth century, who so lovingly enjoyed the view of these majestic peaks.
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