An Early Birthday Entry On The Big 58

It's interesting how quickly things change. I remember having this picture taken. I couldn't have been older than three. My parents look really young, no cares, no worries, no loss. This was not long before my paternal grandfather's sudden heart attack.

It's lucky we live today, when we are so aware of symptoms and things that should tell us something is wrong.

I remember my dad telling me as a teen, how my grandfather's left arm kept going numb, especially his fingers. My mother gave me his watch. On the back is a message my grandmother had engraved on it, and the band shows how he had loosened it at least three notches.

My dad also told me how uncomfortable wearing a watch was on his left wrist. He would often take it off and shake his hand. This picture shows how happy all of us were at that time in our lives. I remember my mom's dress. And I remember the horrible clothes I had on that day.

They were wool. It made me itch, and I kept scratching. My dad kept telling me to stop and hold still. He is leaning close to me, just like he did each time he told me to stand still for the pose.

Memorial Day of 1971 was an interesting day. My dad must purchased this pup. I spent the morning with my dad and our family friend Max King catching fish at Daniel's Reservoir.

We had this interesting concept of our limit of fish. Since we often didn't catch very many, we all figured that on a good day, we could really keep pulling them in after we reached our limit.

My dad had me take the fish into town in our cooler around noon. I played with the dog. There was plenty of ice in the chest, so there was no worry about fish spoiling. We'd cleaned them.

I forgot to put them away. After driving back to the reservoir with a cooler full of fish and the new pup, the game warden met me to look at our dog. My dad saw me. They began bringing the boat ashore, and then he saw the cooler full of fish, just as he was about to place the additional limit in it. The game warden was standing next to the truck.

Nothing happened, because we had a cute dog. The game warden didn't notice, but we never did that again. And for any Fish and Game people who may read this, I only had one limit, and everyone who exceeded the limit are now fishing in the Happy Hunting Ground in another dimension.

After a quick trip from college, and I won't mention where I went to school at that time, because I followed my Sweetie there, even though I didn't date her again, until after I served a mission in Germany, my parents had a photographer take this picture.

It brings back memories of a simple time. Gas was cheap. I had no worries. The future was on the horizon. I still looked good in a suit like that without looking like a Mafia hit man. Big guys don't look good in the whole double button in the front thing. There's something about being barrel-chested that just doesn't look good.

Our home on Bannock still had the incredible pool table. I could still fit behind the wheel of my Model A Ford, and did I mention that gas was cheap. Oh, and it was a time before crappy disco or rap or what-ever-the-crap is that mostly hits the airwaves today.

Nixon was President, so I guess there were a few downsides.

I served a mission in Germany from '72-'74. Living in a Turkish Ghetto in a sprawling German Industrial City was something I did for the first five months. It was, where I had the most success and served with incredible friends. It's sad I only know where two of the three in this picture are today. Bart Croxford, at my left, was a fullback at Utah State. I have no idea where he is now. Those summer days in Oberhausen will always make me smile--great times.

I returned home in January 1974 after two years. I served at a time when you wrote letters and never had the chance to call home.

There was a last minute change in my flight plans a short time before my departure, and the mission office notified me immediately, that I was to call home and report the change to my parents, so that they could pick me up, when I arrived.

It took me three days to remember the phone number, and I don't forget things like that. I still remember phone numbers of friends almost 40 years after using them in high school. It was a strange sensation. Then one morning, I remembered. We went to the post office in Bochum, my last city in Germany, and I called home.

I'll never forget landing in Salt Lake City on that night. Ann was there, and I talked her into riding home with my family. We drove back to school together later that weekend, and we were married in the Salt Lake Temple in May. That decision made all the difference in my life.

Though I never thought it possible, because I loved her so much from our very early relationship in high school, I love her even more now.

She has been by my side during the best of times and during the worst of times--traveling all over the world, experiencing disappointment and economic hard times, laughing first with children and then with grandchildren on rides at Disneyland, experiencing tragic events in our family, that decimated and destroyed some relationships in others.

We remain in love.

We remain devoted to each other.

We enjoy every moment of life together, memories of the past and creating new ones in the present.

And she still makes me smile.

Pictures Like This

After a week from hell, it's a photograph like this that reminds me what is important, what I have to do, what is really important.

My dad taught me an important principle once, and it was difficult for me, because I watched my father react to a person try to run over the top of him on horseback. Their cattle were in our field. My dad warned them to get them out. We were on our way to corral them and contact a lawyer about damages.

When the man tried to run over the top of my father, dad grabbed his reins, and used them to drive the horse back on his haunches. Luckily for the man, it stopped there. I knew what that neighbor deserved. My dad was tolerant, even forgiving.

But you mellow as you get older. I went through a "scrapper" stage. Then suddenly I reached the 50's, and I was still someone who was prepared to fight for what I believed to be right. My disease taught me something different.

And I realize it was how my father reacted in his later years too. When a man spoke lies about my father in the local paper, dad told me this: "Anyone who really knows us, who knows me, also realizes that it isn't true. The others don't matter, because nothing you say will change their mind." It's a true statement.

So at this time in my life, I have found a sense of peace, although at times--like this past week, even this past summer--I feel stress at a higher level than I have in my life. Then I realize what is important. Nothing else matters. I survive to ensure that my wife, my grandchildren, my children are alright. They all have to make their own choices, but I will always do my best to ensure that no one can ever say I didn't try to make things better.

A Reminder For Lydia To Send School Pictures Of Tommy & Anna

This year has been a "West Virginia" year for Jack and Tommy, both of them losing teeth quite quickly.

Jack showed me something interesting. Whenever he loses a tooth, he brings it to me for the whole "tooth fairy" thing, but I am not all that convinced that he really thinks that happens.

But he does believe in the greenish picture of George Washington, and he always is excited to find that dollar under his pillow the next morning.

Star Wars Battles At Home

Pop Pop's Princess Does Soccer With Passion And Intensity

I wish I had a video clip of Ann running. These pictures are so cute of her in her uniform and running near the ball. She has no fear. It really is fun to see her play like that, even in still photography, but I still wish I had a short clip.

Anna takes anything she does very seriously. The intensity in her eyes is fun for me to see, but it's no surprise.

When we were in Minnesota, she would play with Tommy and Jack doing light saber fighting.

She would swing her weapon as hard as she could, and occasionally, one of the boys would "whack" her on the fingers or hand. She cry for just a moment, and seconds later, she's running with them again.

And when she started fighting, her eyes went from beautiful brown to black. In the best Yoda voice I could muster, I would say, "There is much anger in you little one."

Playing with passion is what you do, regardless whether it's light sabers or ballet or soccer, and Anna does all of that.

I love seeing it in pictures.

I'm wondering, if history will repeat itself--Anna getting red-carded out of playoff play as a result of her kicking, biting, and cursing opponents.

If it happens, I hope I'm there to see it.

"Just like Pop Pop," I'll whisper to myself, and I'll blissfully remember how many personal fouls I received my senior year for doing what Lydia did too.

I never bit anyone, but Dick Butkus, my ultimate football hero did, while playing with the bears. In a pile after a tackle, he bit a referee.

Now, I find that funny, but it's just my particular sense of humor that finds something like that humorous.

For the record, I wish I had some of those moments of Lydia on tape, which is probably why she never told Ann and me where or when she played.

And when she had a match, not only did she not tell us that, but she told us the wrong day, time and site. It's funny now, but at the time, I had a different reaction.

The History of "The Camaro Thing"

While doing a meeting not far from Jacksonville, Cles visited Lydia and the family. He called me when he rented a new Camaro, about 42 years after I successfully talked my Grandma Liza into buying one.

I was a freshman in high school, and I trembled with excitement at the thought of borrowing grandma's car. After hours of helping her add all the necessary extras--396 cubic inch engine, four speed transmission, dual exhaust system, four barrel carburetor--she needed for a "safe" ride, my Uncle Dave called my dad to tell him about my grandma's purchase.

The light in my room went on at 6:00 a.m. on a school day. "You've got 30 minutes to talk your grandma out of a car that will probably kill her on the highway son." That was all he said. I showered quickly, ate breakfast, and I walked to my grandma's house, all before 7:00.

I told her that the car would be too dangerous, and I also confessed my intentions of borrowing it. "Bless your heart," Grandma Liza told me as she gave me a big hug. "You're such a perfect young man!"

Everyone needs someone to tell them that, even if it's not true. I still regret not being able to smoke the tires on that blue Camaro. And although she assured me that I could borrow her large Wildcat Buick, I never did that. She was safe in that car, one built like a major battleship.

Cles loved this trip, and the kids enjoyed the Camaro. This big kid would have enjoyed riding in it too. And for a moment, I would have thought about my less-that-perfect intentions all those years ago. I would have shut my eyes and smiled, imagining the squeal of tires and the roar of a high powered engine.

Reasons I Want To Live In Virginia

Reason 1: The sunsets there are spectacular, not like the West, where the desert conditions has dust that affects the light. In the West you have brilliant colors--reds, purples, pinks, blues--all etching the various parts of clouds on the horizon. Sunset color is different in Virginia, but it is so beautiful.

Reason 2: Dusk is the time when choruses of crickets begin the ritual I love to hear. I haven't heard the richness of evening in sound in years.

Only in Minnesota did I find anything like it.

Reason 3: The Blue Ridge Mountains in the background look beautiful any time during the day, but dusk is probably the most impressive.

Reason 4: The vast azure sky darkens quickly, revealing the vast heavens with stars I have not seen in years.

Reason 5: It's all about serenity. There is a peaceful feeling you get living away from city madness--sirens, engine noise. It's better than the serenity bell I have in my Jetta, because no one finds it irritating.

Everyone stuffs tissues in my car's bell at home. I gave up a long time ago trying to take out the paper.

Cles took me to take these pictures the just about seven hours before we left for DC to catch our plane at Dulles.

The downside of a visit like this is the vacuum you feel left inside. You miss family still fresh in your memory but living so far away.

But pictures take away the sting.

The Visit At Monticello

The day brought another beautiful blue sky, although clouds remained here and there. It was cool enough for us to feel comfortable wearing jackets, but it remained nice enough to be comfortable while walking.

Steps leading to a bus to the right and up the steps from Grandma is where we took the bus to Monticello.

All four grandchildren were perfect during the tour.

I was so proud of them.

They walked where they were supposed to go, they didn't talk out loud when they weren't supposed to speak, they didn't fidget. It was a perfect day. Adults in our tour told us how well-behaved they were.

At the end of the tour, the guide commented as well. It was fun for me to see the little ones listening intently as we walked through Jefferson's mansion.

It was my third time there.

The first visit was while I visited Cles and Leslie at graduation ceremonies at UNC. Cles finished his undergraduate degree in December, and while I was out there, they drove me to Charlottesville to see Monticello. We walked about comfortably.

I was shocked. The weather that evening felt like late September or early October. The only indication of winter was the absence of leaves on the trees.

This is my favorite picture of Annie and me with the four grandchildren. It was a fun day.

When Jack and Tommy were very small, we were on our way to Disneyland together, and the boys told me they wanted a Pop Pop hat. At that time, I wore Volkswagen hats.

I gave one blue. The other wore green. When we went to Monticello, Cles gave Jack and Anna UNC hats. He let Tommy sport a Michigan hat with a large embroidered "M," which brought comments

from Michigan fans all day. Tommy loved it.

Anna loved the "Carolina Blue" one and wore it all day, at least until I found her a pink one at the gift shop at Monticello. Jack has always been a UNC fan.

And as for our little Samantha, she sported the Levi jacket we found for her in Charlottesville. It was a beautiful day, one I'll always remember.

After the tour ended, we walked around the grounds. I timed it perfectly to be at the entrance. In the late 70's or early 80's, I saw Sunday Morning with Charles Kuralt, when he was at Monticello.

I always wanted to go there. The last closing clip showed the serene view of Monticello, just as the Chinese gong struck on the hour. I always wanted to hear it.

The guide let Cles and me walk near the entrance to hear it. It was incredible. Although you have to be there to get the full effect, I put a another post just after this one that allows people to hear it.

You have to be close when you're there. The clock is old, and although you could once hear the gong down in the valley, a person has to be close to hear it now.

The Chinese Gong at Monticello

The Terrible Cost of Jet Lag

We made a stop in Shenandoah National Park to take some pictures. It was the last stop, and it was a bit cold outside, so Cles had the temperature in the car warm enough to be comfortable.

One thing you never want to do on a Pop Pop field trip is to fall asleep.

In my earlier years of teaching, I had a yacht horn, run by a can of compressed gas. It was loud, and no one dared fall asleep.

Jack knows the price of slumber, but jet lag is a horrible thing.

Raspberries!

A Trip To Find Virginia Pumpkins

We drove in two separate cars the day we visited the apple orchard to experience the festival, and I don't remember what we did while riding with Cles.

Leslie took Lydia and the crew to a site, where they selected a pumpkin for each grandchild and a white one for Leslie.

As Halloween approaches, I'm hoping they send us pictures of the Jack-O-Lanterns, because there wasn't time to do carving while we were there.

Besides, the fact that we left on October 8 means that carved pumpkins might not look really great by Halloween. It worked out for the best.

I hope Cles and Leslie send me copies of their creations. Cles inherited my art skills, although he has more gift than I have at it; however, Leslie's carved products always are incredibly fun and creative.

We arrived in rain, but the day we did the orchard and the pumpkin farm, the sky was Carolina blue, and the weather was warm.

It was a beautiful day.

Our First Days In Virginia: An Apple Festival In Charlottesville

Visiting this festival was something I've wanted to do for a long time, ever since Cles told me about he and Leslie going there one fall.

In fact, we planned this trip with it in mind. And that was before I knew about the doughnuts.

The only other thing I haven't seen is a Civil War reenactment.

There was one in the area during our stay, but last year during the commemoration, a brawl broke out among participants. I guess some things never change.

Since that happened last year, the consequences were canceling the one planned for October 2010. Hopefully the Yankees and Southern Boys will get along better in the future. I'd really like to see one.

Oh, and I also want to see the Madison and Monroe mansions as well. Then we can eventually concentrate on Jamestown or Williamsburg or Yorktown. Then there's always Baltimore and the things up there as well.

Gee, I guess we'll just have to move to Virginia or North Carolina.

I could really become accustomed to the things I found there--Sweet Potato Pancakes and Pie, Bar-B-Que, Pulled Pork.

Holy Weightwatchers!

Spending the time with all our grandchildren in Virginia with Cles and Lydia was an incredible time. I hope the future finds all of us there, because I want it be something that happens more than once.

While being helped buying the cider and doughnuts and other things, I mentioned to a lady that we planned our vacation around their festival. She was pleased, but not as nearly as happy as I was tasting the things we found there that day.

There were a few more pictures to take before we left the orchard.

Cles wins!

Leslie joined in the fun too.