Alfred E. Neuman, An Oracle For Junior High Students And A Few Pop Pops Too

Favorite Quotes

"Smoking helps you lose weight -- one lung at a time!"

"Today, if you ask a car dealer to let you see something for 10 grand, he'll show you the door!"

"Medical insurance is what allows people to be ill at ease!"

"Prison inmates are treated to cable TV, hot meals and a college education, while on the outside some people can only afford these things through a life of crime!"

"Thank's to the new welfare bill, the question "Paper or plastic?" now refers to many American's sleeping arrangements!"

"In retrospect it becomes clear that hindsight is definitely overrated!"

"Most people are so lazy, they don't even exercise good judgement!"

"If opera is entertainment, then falling off a roof is transportation!"

"A college jock is someone who minds his build instead of vice versa!"

"The only advantage to living in the past is that the rents are much cheaper!"

"Getting old is when a narrow waist and a broad mind change places!"

"How come stealing from one book is plagiarism, but stealing from many is research?"

"It takes one to know one -- and vice versa!"

"Nowadays, a balanced diet is when every McNugget weighs the same!"

"Teenagers are people who act like babies if they're not treated like adults!"

"A teacher is someone who talks in our sleep!"

"How come we choose from just two people for President, and fifty for Miss America?"

"Who says nothing is impossible? Some people do it every day!"

"You can be on the right track and still get hit by a train!"

"Blood is thicker than water... but it makes lousy lemonade!"

"The U.N. is a place where governments opposed to free speech demand to be heard!"

"A plastic surgeon's office the only place where no one gets offended when you pick your nose!"

Picking Up The Kids At LAX, February '08

The trip to Disneyland was almost perfect. The only way it would have been more fun was if Kristin, Cles and Leslie had been there. It has been a long time since all of us were there at one time, but this trip was fun.

Jeff had to do a presentation in Anaheim, not far from the Disneyland, so we met Lydia and the kids a few days before at the airport. Jeff flew out as soon as he finished doing the work he had to do before leaving the clinic. When we met Lydia and the kids, they came down the escalator to the baggage claim. Tommy and Anna were so excited to see us.

Tommy and Jack are always excited to get together, since they have had fun together at Grandma and Pop Pop's house since they were getting into trouble by crawling on their hands and knees. They ran to each other and hugged. What I find fun is the fact that getting together is as fun as the idea of going to Disneyland.

And Disneyland is a fun place.

As soon as Anna saw Jack, she ran to him. "Jackie," she shouted. At first, Jack didn't know what to think about her calling him Jackie, but seeing how excited she was to see him, he recognized how cute it was, and Jack even said it was when I asked him. I explained to him that my grandmother called my dad Jackie. It was what she called him when he was a boy. The whole "John Clesmer Ward the II, III & IV" thing gets confusing; however, I would not have it any other way. And how my own family coped with it is interesting. My grandmother called my dad Jack or Jackie, my grandpa Cles, and she always referred to me as Jonie. Grandma Liza called me Jonie as long as I can remember. When some of my high school classmates heard that, they teased me with that. On the football field, they took their chances. We always played with rage, and I enjoyed pounding anyone stupid enough to taunt me like that. But I didn't mind having my parents or grandmothers or even aunts and uncles call me that. When I recently talked to my old football coach, whom I idolized, he called me Jonie. It made me "tear up." I am not normally an emotional person, and my Annie sometimes questions whether I am even normal. I enjoy saying that the last time I became emotional was when I discovered that the Patty Melt is no longer on the menu at Winger's restaurant.

When I described how people referred to my father as Jackie and me as Jonie, Jack didn't mind being Jackie any more. And when I asked him what he thought of Anna calling him that, he said she was cute. That trip signaled a change for Jack. Before seeing her that night, Jack viewed Anna as someone who was in the way. Anna became a playmate, another young padowan who enjoyed playing Star Wars with both boys.

Tommy jumped into my arms immediately, which he always does when he sees me. That is what is fun about visiting grandchildren.

However, Anna was different. "Can Pop Pop pick you up and give you a hug?" Her little brown eyes twinkled.

"Yeahhhhhhh," she said.

"Can Pop Pop give you a kiss on the cheek?" Anna leaned against my lips and giggled. And then she coaxed to get back to the ground to dance and play with Tommy and Jack.

The whole trip was a fun time. For Jack, it was his birthday present from us. All he wanted for his birthday was dinner at Goofy's Kitchen, but things always work better. It was about having a birthday celebration with his cousins, about having time at Disneyland, about having time with grandma and Pop Pop. And to make things even better, we were still able to get him home so he could celebrate his birthday with his mom. The only way it could have been better was having his mom with us too, but that will happen in November.

For Jeff and Lydia and the kids, it was an escape from a cold climate, an opportunity to realize that California is still a great place to live. And that realization is great for me, because I like grandchildren, and I like Disneyland too.

Some Things Learned From Interviews With Tim Matthews

This will be my last political blog. I added it only because of the two things that Chris Matthews said during these interviews that I found interesting. They do nothing except portray the emotion that is driving this election--emotion that is potentially dangerous when coupled with tough economic times. Here is the presentation that begins with some responses by hockey fans and also includes David Letterman:



The second response is more serious and addresses the nasty direction of the campaign at the present time. Personally, I will be so glad when the election draws to a close.

Yearning for Camelot

I was in the fourth grade in late November of 1963 when the shots rang out in Dallas. Memories of President Kennedy are still powerful for me, although I was only in the fourth grade. The hope and faith everyone had in him during his brief Presidency is something I have not seen since that day. Everyone believed that things would be alright. He inspired confidence. And I remember my parents talking about their voting for him and later again for LBJ, even though they were Republicans from families who voted that way for a very long time. My parents never like Nixon, and Goldwater frightened them even more.

In late November when news of the assassination spread, I remember my fourth grade teacher crying, when she told our class the news. It shocked me, because she was the last person in the world I believed to be capable of showing compassion and sorrow. The school district sent everyone home early from school that day, and I remember the tragic images on our black and white television of the next few days--the blood-stained dress, the funeral procession, the little boy saluting his father.

For me personally, the vacuum left in American politics after that day will always be about what might have been, and after more shots fired leaving Bobby dead in the late 60's, I became less interested in politics for a long time. Hope appeared briefly with Bobby, and then it disappeared again. At least, that is how I felt about it.

It was the very late 70's before I really looked at issues before an election again. Although I never missed voting in an election, I never felt the same passion I sensed as a boy watching JFK. The recording of his voice with his responses to questions about his motivation to become president are important: they speak of a man wanting to make positive changes in society and believing that the Presidency was the only way to do it effectively.



The taped interview shows an incredible man interested in serving his country rather than merely seeking power or attempting self-promotion. He saw himself as an extrovert. I miss politicians like that. And given the character assassination that has attempted to destroy the image that many had of JFK, I believe it will be a very long time before someone emerges like that again.

A Trip We Took To Sea World

One trip found us at Sea World, and although I don't remember the date when we were there, I do remember the large child that bounced on this play area while Jack tried to walk. Jack thought the older boy was making things fun, but grandma had a different opinion. This other child was too old and too big to be in the area with small children, and then suddenly grandma was in the area to retrieve Jack, and when she fell, she couldn't get up. The onset of the adventure was serious, but all of us--including grandma--laughed about the situation.

The Trip To Disneyland, February '08

When Jack's fifth birthday approached, he told us there was one thing he wanted--dinner at a restaurant. And after asking him the name of the place and expecting McDonalds or Arctic Circle or Leo's--all with extensive play areas--to be the answer, he said something unexpected: Goofy's Kitchen. It was a large brunch and dinner place in the Disneyland Hotel, where we went during each trip. When Jack was first speaking, we sat at a table, and suddenly he yells, "Baaaalooooo!"

I had no idea that he knew any of the characters of obscure Disney films, and I say obscure, because I think that this bear was from the movie The Jungle Book, but I am not sure. Jack was only two at the time, and we still laugh about that. On that day, Jack crawled down from his chair and ran to hug the large bear. The first time I had a chance, I bought the stuffed animal for him.

On this day in February of '08, we were lucky to take him on the trip. And while we were there, it was a bit cold. We were in the Brother Bear play area at California Adventure Park, the other Disney area now, which they built in the former parking lot. A Disney worker, dressed in Ranger "duds," had these floating ducks in various colors, and he let Jack and Tommy and Anna float them in the tiny stream they made there.

All three had fun with it. We did the same thing in irrigation ditches when I was little when we made boats and floated them. It was fun for me to see all three have fun doing that, although it pained me to spend time doing something I did as a child in Malad for free, when we were at Disneyland. But I have to remind myself that the day is about what is fun for the little ones.

And by the way, Anna's signature color is pink. I don't remember what colors the boys decided to use. They had fun regardless of the color, at least our boys did. The Disney Ranger was not only nice, but he also spent time with the three kids letting them have fun. In my book, I don't care what their favorite color is when they are as nice as they were with my grandchildren.

And it is not that I am homophobic by any means, because Ann and I are not. It's just some of the feelings we have left from the two days at Disneyland and one day at Disney World when we unwittingly visited the parks on pink triangle day. You have not lived until you have seen men grabbing each other in the restrooms, two doing the lambada in front of the Disneyland castle, and unmentionable things the men and ladies did on the Peter Pan and other rides in the dark. Straight people would have been thrown out of the park and taken to jail. It was more than I wanted to see once, and we were unlucky to see it three times. But like I said, the ranger was nice with my grand kids. He didn't have to spend time like that, and few do what he did for close to twenty minutes. Most adults really don't go "out of their way" any more, unless it is profitable. This man did what he did, because it made three children smile.

That trip was a perfect trip, one that we will always remember. It was a bit cold occasionally, but the trip was well worth it, and for me, it was worth catching a cold that was dangerously close to pneumonia. I spent several weeks getting better, and the first weekend home I visited the E.R. I had trouble breathing. In spite of it all, I have no regrets about going. Seeing the joy in the eyes of little ones makes it all worth while.

Innocent Eyes

My favorite picture of Jack and Tommy is this one. It reminds me of stories my dad told about how funny my Grandpa Cles thought David and Dennis were: two little boys with sparkling eyes full of hell. My grandpa always said that raising kids was like breaking a horse. You could break the horse, but you never broke the its spirit--that sparkle that every living thing has in its eye.

And these two have that. It will always make me smile, sometimes a while after the fact.

Happy Birthday Cles!

I had to put this picture on a blog in honor of October 10. The other day, I told Jack that Cles was still only a baby when we went to Star Wars for the first time. It was December '76 or January of '77. Ann and I were in Logan, probably seeing the doctor for a check-up for Cles, when we noticed that Star Wars was at the movie theater just east of the mall. Ann and I went, and Cles slept most of the time. By the time we saw it again, it was on VHS when Cles was very young. Cles was not much older than Jack is right now when we went to Empire Strikes Back.

Jack blinked with amazement, and in a way, I did too when I told the story. To think that Cles and Lydia are both older than 30 right now makes me feel really old.

I figure Cles was about the same age as Jack in the picture at the right. It brings back fun memories to see it, because it reminds me of several funny moments, like the time I was using my reel to reel tape recorder with microphones making a recording that would give a concert hall effect. I had everything set up perfectly, when suddenly in the middle of a song, the front door bursts open, slams and Cles runs into the bathroom.

I hear the toilet seat slam against the seat. The live recording became two things: Cles relieving himself and my becoming hysterical because of a ruined moment--what I wouldn't give for that recording. You never appreciate moments like that for what they are until you are a grandparent.

And of course there were many other events too, like when Cles planted wheat in the neighbor's flower garden. That particular person was a miserable human being. He trampled our plants, but it made him angry when he discovered wheat springing up for years in his flower beds. My dad would give Cles pocketfuls of wheat for him to plant his "fields." No one knew that the fields Cles planted were those with the petunias and tulips of a creepy old man in the house just south of us.

Royalties

I keep marking the days until this election is no longer an irritation. If I hear the word "Maverick" one more time, I know I will awaken screaming in the night. Old television shows like Gunsmoke and Maverick were things I enjoyed watching when I was young, but my taste in entertainment was not really all that sophisticated then. But in defense of one actor in particular, I figure that James Garner, who played the original Maverick, should get a fee from John McCain and Sarah Palin every time they use the word. And in McCain's case, it should cost him one of his many homes or cars that he owns as part of the wealthy elite. Usually a person gets this "elitist" label if you are either rich or highly intelligent. And for McCain, he appears to be very rich. It is nice you can become an elitist without being smart. Given the past eight years, it seems to have become the status quo.

McCain's dramatic portrayal of an aged emperor, although it doesn't qualify him to become President, should land him a role in a sequel--Grumpy Old Men III: You're Never Too Old To Enjoy Women Who Crave Power.

And as for Sarah Palin, she doesn't look or sound like an elitist in any way, but to be fair, she could send Hollywood some moose steaks or reindeer ribs to be served at a tailgate party at the next Oscar Ceremony.

Best Buds

From the time Jack and Tommy were little, they laughed and played together. And sometimes they fought. It was like they were brothers more than cousins. On our first trip to Disneyland in late May of 2004, it appeared occasionally that they enjoyed playing "boo" in the hotel room curtains as much as they liked the rides. They would do it for as long as we let them. It was a fun vacation. I can't think of a better way of Ann and I celebrating our wedding anniversary. I just noticed the date on the picture at the right.

Both boys always like churros too. It has become a tradition in a way, and there are not many days that we don't get one for the grand kids, either here near Haunted Mansion, near the tidal water display in California Adventure Park or near The Matterhorn.

Most trips found us talking to someone who thought the boys were twins.
The first trip in May of 2004 was fun in so many different ways. It was the last trip I did to the park without using an electric cart the entire time. The first phase of the battle with leukemia left me at least able to walk during the day, even though I walked slowly toward the end of the day.

But the next year changed all of that. I could not return to work, and a cart was the only way to enjoy the vibes of Disneyland with grandchildren. I am just glad to continue doing it as often as I can.

When the boys were just little, I remember my mother laughing about something I told her about the following situation: the boys were communicating in grunts and squawks, but they communicated with each other and after only a few days together, I could see them coordinating their acts of mischief as they crawled about the house getting into things and climbing into drawers and cabinets.

And after the Disneyland trip in February of '08 when we picked up Lydia and the two little ones at LAX, Jack's attitude about Anna changed. Before he tolerated her, and then we met them after they exited the plane and came to pick up their bags, Anna looked at Jack and said, "Hi Jackie!" Jack was embarrassed at first, and he didn't know what to think. But since seeing her do that, he looks out for her. Whenever we go into a toy store, he reminds us to buy Anna something too. And when he sees an advertisement on television that shows a doll or something else Anna would like, he reminds us then too.

When we last visited Tommy and Anna, all three--Jack, Tommy and Anna--ran around the house swinging light sabers and pretending they were fighting Sith warriors. They are now all three best buds.

A Moment Of Excruciating Whatever

During lifetime, I remember my first knee surgery. The pain was so intense for the first three days that I needed morphine every four hours. I remember the horror of lying and sweating. The latter was from intense pain. I had two more operations on my knees after that.

During hip replacement, they dislocated the hip, sawed the end off and drove a titanium replacement into the bone. It was six weeks before I could put weight on the hip, and then it was a gradual return to some part of recovery, even though my cancer made full movement more difficult.



I won't even talk about the close brushes I had with death during my fight with leukemia, except for the one occasion when a doctor used a scalpel to remove the line from my chest when he should not have. After slicing it in half, a piece went into my bloodstream. I spent 90 minutes on a table, while he and another radiologist fished that piece out by running a wire through an artery in my groin. It was not fun.


And then I had these wrappings. In the first picture, my grandchildren give me piece. Tommy sat on one side, and Jack sat on the other side. Then Anna decided she wanted to be by Pop Pop too, while we watched an incredible Japanese animated film entitled Spirited Away. It was fun having them by me. Most evenings were like this, and every one was nice, because I had all three grandchildren with me. It was like Christmas.

This picture shows the extent of the wrappings. The swelling, due to the physical changes I saw after chemo and other medications, became increasingly impossible to deal with for me. It was a relief to find a doctor who could help us.

Dr. Mulvey had told me that wrappings were a possibility, but I was not ready. Other doctors did not really give me much hope for any improvement. Finally, the swelling made me realize that anything would be better than what I was seeing. Since early childhood, I could not stand to have anything between my toes. Flip flops were never an option for me. And if while putting on a pair of pants, I accidentally had a thread go between my toes, I would almost put my foot through the bottom of the denim jeans. My dad had the same sensitivity in his feet too.

When the physical therapist started wrapping my toes, I watched my Annie. She put her hand over her mouth, so that she wouldn't laugh out loud. She told me later how pale I turned. In all of the medical procedures I endured in my life, I never felt the discomfort I felt at that moment. And I wore those bandages all week long, getting them changed the next morning.

Stuff We Watched When Grandma Williams Babysat Us In The 60's

Grandma Williams watched us at night when my parents went out of town, but there was one night a week, when we did not want to have her watch us: the night that Lawrence Welk was on television. My sisters did not mind, because as soon as they learned how crazy listening and watching it made me, the automatically became a "must see" experience. But holding two large pillows, one over each ear, actually became a way of developing my upper body strength at an early age. The program after all was 60 minutes in length.

I am so grateful for things she taught me, the drive to learn to be a poet, the encouragement to educate myself, the love of music she taught me as an elementary school teacher; but the Lawrence Welk thing was not something I learned to love. It was like developing a taste for sushi carp caught in the Malad River.

Grandma gave us some classical music LP's one year that I loved. She taught me to appreciate the music of Stephen Douglas and other composers from America's nineteenth century. And most importantly, she not only did music programs that exposed me and other young people to Christmas music, but she also had learn some songs from World War I that we performed for the American Legion War Mothers. I will never forget that, and I will always wish that I could get a copy of the text she used. The music was beautiful, and the people were appreciative and even emotional about our performance. This was probably the thing that awakened me to my interest in music, both in terms of performing and listening.

She was a grandmother who loved music, and her way of loving me was trying to instill that same thing in me too. Everything worked, except of course for the whole Lawrence Welk thing.

The Long Trip From Minnesota

We traveled to Minnesota and stayed for a week before flying to D.C. for meetings at the museum. With the problems with my legs, I wanted to see if the shorter flight would make a difference, and I figured that staying a week with grandchildren would be fun too. And it was.

The trip home began as soon as Ann and I returned to Minnesota. Ann's plane was late, so I waited for a while at the airport before she arrived. There was about two hours for me to relax, because the meetings were exhausting. It was actually a good thing.
When Ann arrived, she called a taxi. Lydia and Jeff had let us leave our car at their house, and they would not arrive home until later. We saved money by not having to park our car in long term parking, and besides, I have never seen a time when I returned to find my car had not been dinged or scratched by someone who parked next to me.

The taxi was a very good idea, and we had everything packed in the car ready for our immediate departure, so knowing our VW Jetta was in a locked garage was actually a relief for me.
The trip home took some wrong turns in the first hour or two, and suddenly, Ann and I were in the middle of some Minnesota corn fields. And it didn't help to have our satellite guide either, because following the directions given to us suddenly put us on a dirt road. Ann and I soon found a farmer carrying his tired dog and the man's wife taking an evening walk. We asked them directions, and after her the two of them argue in the local Minnesota dialect for fifteen minutes or so, we found our way back to the Interstate.
Getting lost was an omen. The way home led us through detours and road construction.
But the road construction on the edge of Yellowstone National Park was actually kind of nice. It was peaceful to roll down the window and hear the sound of a stream and to hear wind in the pines. And the musk of those pines brought back memories of my dad immediately. He loved that smell. We would drive for hours to get to a spot where we could stop and smell the trees and enjoy the vibes of the outdoors. And he would tell us stories of hunting with Grandpa Cles.

I wish I could remember all of those, but I forgot them over the years. And I wish I could remember the bridge near Challis, where we would stop, walk across it and watch dad look intently into the woods. It was as if he half expected to see grandpa on horseback emerge into a clearing wearing his hat and leading a packhorse. I wish I could return there and stand looking, waiting for dad and grandpa to come out of the woods.

The road crew forced us to stop for about an hour before a truck led us over a resurfaced lane of road at 25 miles per hour, but before that happened, Ann took these pictures. I rolled down the window. And I thought about the things I wrote here, thinking about how much my dad would have loved that stop, and how much he would have loved getting lost amid Minnesota cornfields.

Interesting Signs In D.C.

I figure that this office must be very small. I really do not see any accountability for politicians. Democrats take a hit occasionally, yet there has not been an impeachment that took someone out of office since Andrew Johnson and the 1800's. At least I don't know of any specific situations. Society, at least in Idaho, generally "absolves" those in The Grand Old Party on a regular basis.

George Hansen was a politician, whom people still wanted to vote for in Idaho, even after his crime and his stay in the "crowbar hotel" denied him the right to vote. Ex cons lose some rights, although many Americans don't think enough about their government to do it anyway. Rush Limbaugh, in spite of all his talk, did not vote for some time. I'm sure he has a reason to justify it, but personally, I find it disgusting that a person like Limbaugh can have so many negative comments without having voted for so long.

I guess it is so difficult for me to watch people help Larry Craig get into the Idaho Hall of Fame after that tap dancing thing Craig did in the Minneapolis airport restroom while trying to get an afternoon date in the men's room. The worst part was his flashing a small card, that identified him as a senator, at the undercover officer who caught him. I guess Larry Craig thought that romance in a restroom was like playing Monopoly. He had his Get Out Of Jail Free card in hand, so everything would be alright. I figure the Government Accountability Office must be very small with a large backlog of business.

In a school district where I worked, the superintendent stood up and warned teachers of jeopardizing their careers with moral turpitude. Within one hour of that speech during initial meetings with teachers before the first day of school, a district supervisor propositioned an Idaho Falls undercover cop in a restroom near the falls. The district fired the employee immediately. I wonder why citizens can't do that with political leaders like Larry Craig. The worst part of his problem was his thinking that he was "above the law" and not subject to the same rules as other people. The fact that he is still in office means he was right about thinking that he was "above the law." I hope no one ever nominates me for the Idaho Hall of Fame. I have, after all, tried to live a life of honesty and integrity. I wouldn't want a nomination like that to damage my credibility.



This last sign should be a new paradigm in our culture. Instead of putting people with confused ethics and morals into some Hall of Fame, they should install a new philosophy: Park Not, Lest Ye Be Towed . . . Away. Wouldn't that be a great way to look at things, no separate rules for politicians, professional athletes, celebrities or high society. You break the rule, they tow you away. I find the concept interesting.

Snow Is Only Fun When You Are Young

Germans have a word for snow: Scheißweiß. Germans make compound words easily by joining any two nouns together creatively. Most Americans I have known in my life, find the last part of that word offensive; however, it is important to realize that the Germanic elements of the English language were vulgar to Normans after William the Conqueror arrived. And by the way, some Britons viewed him, just like I viewed supervisors during my years as a teacher: they called him William the Bastard. I guess life is all semantics, and it's also about the fact that truth is sometimes relative. My three grandchildren I love also love snow. It is fun for them to play in it. Sleigh riding is an adventure, and even shoveling a walk like Jack does here is a reason to get outside for a moment and feel the fresh air and listen to snow crunch under your feet.

Never Working Where You Live

I began my student teaching at Highland High in Pocatello in January of 1979. Some of my friends told me how tough it would be to teach at such a "rough" school. I enjoyed it. I learned some basic principles of maintaining a classroom--you never put up with Monkey Business, you begin as soon as the bell rings, you never allow students to sit for long periods of time. Those three things were keys to working successfully in a classroom, and when I finished my student teaching in Pocatello, I felt really good about what I accomplished, and then I began student teaching in Malad. While at Highland High School, I met a teacher, who taught my dad when he was in high school. The teacher was one who made a real difference in Pocatello, and my dad really liked him as an instructor.

One day I made an effort to talk to him and get some advice. "Never teach where you live," he said. "And if you decide to teach in Malad, make sure you establish yourself somewhere else first. It would be important to work at least four or five years and then go there if you really felt that is what you want to do."

I did not listen to him.

My classroom was at the bottom, it was in the basement of the building. In this picture, it appears they removed the windows and replaced them with coverings that prevented people from entering the building. I always found that to be the ultimate paradox about young people. All day at school they look for reasons not to be in school or in class, and then they try to break in at night.

I taught in my old German teacher's room, something that made me so proud, and I met her once and was able to talk about how happy it made me to think I could work in her classroom, but the advice I did not take was something that made a difference in my career. I hated my first three years. Being a teacher in Malad meant being subjected to eggs being thrown at your house every Halloween. After my third year, Ann and I had a fireplace built on a wall in our house. We were so proud of it. The loan we signed was a lot of money for us, and on Halloween, three young men tossed two or three dozen eggs down the chimney. For two years, I could smell egg every time it rained. I hated teaching in that town. And sadly, it was the one where I felt such a strong connection. I grew up there. My Annie grew up there, and our children grew up there too.

In our second home, we returned from a trip to Disneyland at 2:00 a.m. Some students dumped trash and leaves and straw all over my front steps, piling it up to the mail slot. They stuck materials into the mail slot, which spilled onto the floor of my house. It took me a week to trap the seven or eight mice in my house that the situation allowed while we were gone. And when I removed the straw and trash, there was a dead porky pine in the materials.

In the spring, my German exchange school arrived. One German student came four years in a row, and after the second visit, I changed her host family, because they would not make any restrictions about a curfew for our visitors. It became a problem. The American student and her mother poured a quart or more of honey on my new car, damaging the paint. I began looking seriously for a job that year. I had an offer in Box Elder School District to teach German at the high school, but they would not talk about hiring my Annie, which was silly. Our future districts found both of us to be excellent additions to their faculties. Actually it was a blessing to be further north. The job in Idaho Falls was a keeper, and Bonneville School District made offers to both of us in the spring of '88. It was such a blessing to leave.However, working in Malad made me tough as nails. It taught me how to deal with creepy people. I overheard a counselor speaking with a visiting adult who just moved into my last school where I worked. "That's Mr. Ward," he said. "He doesn't take crap from anybody." That's what teaching in Malad did for me. I was not mean or difficult for students. They enjoyed my classes. It is just that I was ready for anyone who entered my classroom with the intention to distract others.

I never looked to make things difficult for anyone, but I did not allow anyone to make things difficult for me either. There are some things that make me proud of what I did as a teacher besides the honors and accolades I achieved: first, when I left Malad some people, including teachers and the superintendent asked me to rethink my decision, second, the administrator who purposely made things difficult for me felt the effects of karma. A few years later my dad told me that he had it from a very good source that that man's lack of ethics in how he treated me cost him the superintendency. Third, when my cancer forced me to retire, two administrators from my district north of Idaho Falls visited me in my home. At the time, my doctor told me I had two weeks to two months to live. One begged me to return, because he wanted me to teach his son. The other told me that he always respected me because I told him and others exactly what I thought, whenever they needed my input. "If we didn't want to hear the truth, we shouldn't have asked you the question," he said. And two principals visited me and asked me to return too--one when I was very sick, and a second one came to my home a year later, hoping I could return to work. It feels good to be appreciated. When I was sick, students called me on the phone and visited me at home. For a long time, I saw former students where ever I went in the Idaho Falls area, and they told me what a difference I made in their lives. I have been away five years now, and the students are now doing what they do as adults in many different cities and states. Once in a while, I regret not studying law, because my professors at the university wanted me to do that. Memories of my students telling me how I helped them lets me know how lucky I am to have been a teacher. I hate cliches, but to use one by saying "to make a long story short," Malad made me tough enough to succeed anywhere, and I did. And my Annie did too. I hope the day arrives when I do not feel what I do about my hometown. That will be the day I return, because after all, my Annie and I do have a burial plots there.

Tommy's Swimming Lessons

We went with Tommy to swimming lessons at the local YMCA, but unfortunately, we were unable to get any movie clips or pictures of Tommy in the pool. It was fun to watch how proud he was of learning to swim, and it was also exciting to hear how well he did.

It is exciting to me to see grandchildren learn to swim, while they are still young enough to avoid being afraid of the water and to develop strong strokes.

I did not learn to do this, until I was about to begin my sophomore year in school. In order to get my Eagle Scout Award, I had to swim 400 meters. It took me a number of weeks during the summer to learn how to swim, and my dad was very good about allowing me to do that, as soon as we had the summer fallow finished. But we spent only enough time to take care of the lessons, and we were off for the ranch as soon as possible. It could not have been pleasant for dad to be alone without us. And the work was intense to do all alone without any help.

Like I said, it is nice to see my grandchildren learn to swim early in life.

Final Comments on the V.P. Debate

1. Just when I thought I would never have to hear an adult say the word "nucular" instead of nuclear, Sarah Palin used the George W. Bush euphemism at least four times.

2. I thought only those in the middle of the country said things like this: "Darn right!" or "Ja, you betcha."

3. It was always my hope that both parties would nominate people for national office who were articulate. I would hate to think that someone chosen to lead a powerful nation could actually show that they were smart. And although I gave up hoping a long time ago that our leader would speak at least one foreign language, Sarah Palin proved to me that English was very foreign to her. Darn right! Ja, you betcha.

4. I thought there was something wrong with me at the beginning of the debate. There were times when I honestly could not understand what Sarah Palin was trying to say, not because of a difficult dialect but because of pathetic grammar and strange syntax.

5. I never thought I would see reality and satire happen at the same time. What are the real qualifications for being chosen as a running mate in a presidential election? Given the age of John McCain, I would hope it would be someone responsible and wise enough to help guide our country through difficult times. I guess she can show us how to trap varmints and supplement our diets during tough economic times.

6. And I never thought I would hear a Republican admit that, like the Democrats, she accepted a person's choice of living a gay lifestyle. And like the Democrats, she did not support gay marriage. Yes, she actually conceded that Democrats, like Republicans were not in favor of endorsing gay marriage. At least while being inept, Sarah Palin did not use the issue as a way of attacking the Obama and Biden ticket and distracting voters from other issues that put our country at risk.

7. I makes my stomach churn to think that someone that stupid could actually have power to initiate a nuclear strike in the event that a 72-year-old president dies of old age. According to Cles, McCain's father and grandfather died of old age at about the same age as John McCain is right now, and given both the extra stress and pressure of his being a one-time prisoner in North Viet Nam when he was young and also given the difficult election he faces right now, it is not foolish to consider the frightening aspect of Sarah Palin as Commander In Chief. And by the way, he is the oldest man ever to run for the office of President.

8. At least during the course of this debate, I had the pleasure of not hearing her suggest that she was an expert in foreign policy because her kitchen window faces Russia. And the same thing goes for the joke about dogs and lip stick. Given the situation with extended hours of darkness, it does not surprise me to know that people in Alaska are difficult. There is nothing funny about making fun of people suffering from bipolar problems. And it is silly to believe that someone that moody is a credible candidate for such a leadership position in our country.

9. It amazed me to hear her actually believe that Alaskan politics gave her experience in working in a bipartisan way. It was my understanding that there were only right wing conservatives and ultra right wing conservatives there.

10. After watching her evade questions and use cute sound bites and cliches to attack Biden without answering a single question, my heart was pounding in my chest by the end of the 90 minute debate. I failed to see her discuss anything tangible, and she never once gave an example to support any of her assertions, so at the end of the 90 minute debate, when a Republican actually suggested that she "held her own," I thought I was experiencing a panic attack. I could not believe that someone could watch what I did and think she did well. And to think that most people believe that only hippies used drugs during the 60's. This guy must have had some serious controlled substance issues in the the past if he truly believed that Sarah Palin "held her own."

11. It shocked me to hear that she actually believed that she intended to "reach across the aisle" in future service in American politics. People who only know how to attack people without discussing issues do not seem prepared for bipartisan work. She appears to believe that she is above the law. When a governor fires a state official for personal rather than professional reasons, and more importantly, when that governor also ignores subpoenas that require her to submit to an internal investigation that suggests she broke the law, I guess I have a difficult time understanding why she puts herself through this whole "election" thing. Just watching and listening to some conservatives who run for office, it appears that individual rights is an issue: if you can't ignore the Constitutional rights of political opponents and others who irritate you within a democracy, why would you want to serve in a position of leadership? And by the way, this whole euphemistic phrase "compassionate conservative" means only their eyes sparkle with pleasure when they kick you while you're down. I hate the term as much as I dislike their branding people as "liberals" and "patriots." Had they lived in the late eighteenth century, they would have all been Tories.

12. And last, can't we have someone smart lead our country please? I have waited for a statesman for such a long time--someone articulate, someone respectable, someone capable of leadership.

A Moonlit Montana Sky

I hoped this picture would turn out well, although there were two other glances at the moon that were so beautiful that night. It had been a long day on our drive across South Dakota, Wyoming and Montana. We stopped just outside Bozeman and found a motel. It was very dark. Signs showed warnings of migrating animals, and as beautiful as the night sky was, I wanted to see everything in the daylight. We left early the next day and arrived home by early afternoon.

Three Reasons For Living In A Western State

On the way home we saw the most beautiful sunset, with colors or yellow, orange, and purple. It was a beautiful sight during a drive that was fantastic, whether looking at the cornfields of Minnesota, the Black Hills of South Dakota, or the small rivers and rolling hills of Montana.
There is just nothing like it in the evening. I guess I learned to watch a sunset so carefully when I drove a tractor on the farm. It was a chance to see the beauty outside. There was always a feeling of satisfaction in knowing that a day's worth of hard work had benefits, and none of those had anything to do with money. My father taught me character, hard work, honesty. Taking pride in a job well-done was an expectation that my father never had to tell me about when he asked me to do something. It was something that every job required.
Only in early evening or in the hours before dawn does the day become completely quiet, yet there is the sound of crickets and the soft caress of a night wind. Occasionally, the yelp of a coyote breaks the stillness. And I will never forget the stars that seemed so shine so brightly in a sky untainted by smoke or smog.