More Memories Of October

And how can I talk about memories of October without saying something about teaching in a place where the school had an extended holiday for deer hunting. In fact, next to Christmas, it was the longest break we had during the year. Both holidays involved decorating something.

At Christmas we decorated our tree, and some people decorated their houses and yards, but during deer hunt, you decorated your car by strapping a deer carcass across the hood, roof or trunk. Of course pick up truck decor was much simpler, merely requiring you to toss the thing in the back and leaving four legs pointed skyward.

Although I occasionally stayed in Malad whenever we could not afford to make the trip, in which case I helped my father on the farm with last minute things before snow storms, there were not many years we didn't take advantage of those October holidays to visit California. I never liked the taste of deer meat, and my dad didn't either. There was also the guilt I felt for hunting something merely for the horns.

Each trip had the same ritual. We would pack the '81 Mustang the night before, leaving only the cooler inside the house. I would pick up Ann and the kids immediately after school, and after placing the cooler in the car, we would begin the fourteen hour trip, and we drove straight through to Disneyland.

It was different during those early visits. Interstate 15 was not complete through Southern Utah, so it took more time. The speed limit was between 55 and 60 miles an hour, although no one ever obeyed it between Vegas and the California border. And since seat belts were more of an option rather than even a strong request, we would have the three kids dress in pajamas and sleep in the back under a blanket, after we lowered the seat of the car and left a flat surface which surrounded them with suitcases and a cooler. Doing a Brittney Spears with unbelted children in a vehicle would land parents in jail today.


There were no Cd players at that time, so we had cassettes for music, and Ann would fed the tape player, until she was too exhausted to stay awake. I drove straight to Disneyland after stopping only for gas on the way. The Mustang, in spite of its small size and very small engine, was only able to manage 25 miles per gallon at best, so there was more stopping, and it took extra time too.

After filling up in Malad, we stopped in Ogden or Salt Lake, Cedar City, Vegas and at least once somewhere in California. The Jetta we drive now stops once every 500 miles, usually once in Cedar City or St. George and once in Vegas. I get there on a tank and a half now, and although I only need a tank and a half of fuel, I fill a couple of times. Whether it is habit or just the fear of driving across miles of nowhere needing diesel, I make sure that my tank never reaches a quarter full until I am almost there.

When we did the trips with our kids in the 80's, restaurant food inside Disneyland was cheaper than eating fast food outside the park. That changed. Now instead of a huge parking lot, there is another large area of rides called California Adventure Park. That changed things too, and it changed in a good way. The new park is fantastic. Bear Country Jamboree no longer exists. The submarine ride disappeared for a long time, and then Disney Company recreated it as the Finding Nemo ride. The motor boats no longer are there, and even the small ponds are now gone. At one time, they were rides that Cles loved to do. That is all unfortunate, but we at least have the memories of being able to ride them when they were still available.


Things are all different now, but even in spite of the negative things, I enjoy the trip, and now with a combination of a higher speed limit and fewer people observing it, the trip takes less time, even though we are another 90 minutes away than we were in Malad. Having Interstate 15 finished the entire way certainly helps too. Vegas is nine hours away, and three more gets us to Anaheim on a good day.

On those early trips, we would leave Malad at 3:30 or 4:00 p.m., arriving at Disneyland just in time to enter the park. I did it without sleep. The first day was rough. Ann and I were exhausted, but the three kids had enough to have fun and inspire us too. The second and third days were cream.

Now we seldom make the trip without spending at least five days at Disneyland and California Adventure Park. We have the old memories, but we make new ones each year.

Back When Tommy Wrinkled His Nose

When Tommy was little, he would squint is eyes and wrinkle his nose. It was funny, and I almost forgot about it until I found a few pictures where he did it. And when I mentioned it, everyone wanted a picture of it, so here they are. This one is a day when the boys went sleigh riding. It was an adventure for them, and Jack still likes snow and hopes to do it again.

Jack just doesn't understand why I dislike winter like I do. When he asked me once what I liked instead of "snowman weather," I told him, "a palm tree in the front yard and a lemon tree in the back." That really is my idea of heaven. I will take heat and green any time, especially in winter. Maybe that's why Disneyland is always fun to visit during the winter. Flowers always bloom there, and there are always leaves on the trees.

During that same visit when Tommy made that fun expression on his face, I held both boys and tried to get Tommy to wrinkle his nose at me. I wanted to get it on film. He did it several times, but no one was quick enough with a camera to get it on film. The picture at the right shows me trying to get Tommy to do it again. Jack is wondering what is wrong with me.

Changes That Happen Once Grandkids Start School

When the little ones are not tied to a schedule, that already begins when they start Kindergarten, it is easy to look forward to times when visits during the year last weeks at a time, but then things change. This picture documents a great visit. Kristin gave Jack a toy one Christmas that zipped sections of tubing together, creating colorful tunnels for all three of them to crawl through and explore inside a room in the house or even in the backyard. Jack, Tommy and Anna loved playing in it. This was a time when Tommy was proud of the coat we found in the Gap. It looked just like the one Jeff wore.

Anna was still a toddler. It was easy to notice when she needed a diaper change. Both boys would run to us gagging. This reaction at an older age would have created issues lasting into adulthood for our little sweety, but at this point, it was what you expected from our little princess in diapers.

And as for the boys, their sense of smell is still the same. The pair of them can smell a churro stand at Disneyland from the outskirts of Vegas, and bad smells still make them gag.

The little tunnels filled our entire TV room. Only empty toy boxes at Christmas offer the kind of ectasy for our two boys like this toy did. Tommy and Jack spent a long time exploring and being "creative" as they pretended to live adventures inside that toy. As a grandparent you never realize how much you miss these adventures until grandchildrens leave and you begin to sense the silence. Little ones leave a vacuum. I don't feel lonely, because I have my Annie, but my Jack, Tommy and Anna are what keep us young, even when they remind us about one basic fact: "Pop Pop, you are really old."

The first time one of them said that, I began to wish they were younger, a time when Jack told me not to drink my Coca Cola, because I was just a "little boy," and that kind of soda was not good for little boys.

Maybe those tunnels reminded Jack, Tommy and Anna of Chucky Cheese--the children's restaurant where kids dance and prance in sheer euphoria before running from game to game to win points to win toys you could find in a box of Cracker Jacks any given day of week. You know you are at that place when you see parents and grandparents sitting and staring blankly at pizza that looks and tastes like ketchup and cheese on cardboard, yet occasionally, you can find one in the chain of restaurants that actually serves food that is better than any standard circa 1950's TV dinner, but then again, what TV dinner has rides and workers who dress up like a large rodent. For a long time, whenever Ann and I passed one of those restaurants on the road, we looked at each other in silence, hoping Jack or Tommy wouldn't notice. And then they grew up and didn't coax to go their any more, and then I began to wish I could stop one more time to remember the fun we had with them there.

Birthday Wishes From Tommy & Anna

Memories of October

This was the first birthday for Cles. Grandma and Grandpa Ward bought him this Radio Flyer wagon with wooden sideboards. He grinned the minute he saw it. It was a memory I would never forget, although it was a picture I lost for a long time, until we found it among some other odds and ends from moves and other times when we put pictures into shoe boxes.

It has been too long ago to remember what the other things were that he opened that morning, but I remember the typical pale sunlight through the front windows on Bannock Street as I took this photo with my Rollei without a flash.

I wish I could remember why I took this picture. I know it isn't Christmas, although there were a bunch of things on the floor. Lydia is wearing her My Grandparents Went To Yellowstone And All I Got Was This Lousy T-Shirt. We always went to Island Park to get poles for fences during the early part of October, but the last time I remember doing that was just after the birth of Cles. It snowed eight inches while we loaded the poles on two trucks. The trucks were a good walk from the highway, and there were no cell phones at the time. We were more than nervous, and we were very glad to be on our way home after loading them.

This picture had to be from October, because my parents often went to the park in early October, even after we no longer went for poles.

Happy Birthday To Me

This was my last birthday with Grandpa Cles. I was three and held a Davy Crockett cake on my lap. The date was October 27, 1955. Grandpa did not look well in this picture. He was only 48, but he looks like he is in his 60's.

My mom always made birthdays special. There was always a cake, and she also cooked a meal. For me, the meal was about family recipes: chili, freshly baked bread, and rice pudding. Some of my friends came to dinner with us, but by the time I was in high school, only one was there consistently. Jeff Alder was a friend of mine since the third grade, and as long as we knew one another, you would think that I would have known that he did not like chili. I never knew that until three or four years ago, when Ann and I visited him and his family during the Christmas holidays. When I mentioned the chili tradition, his wife Wendy told us immediately that Jeff never ate that, not ever. She laughed out loud when she heard the story. He was a good friend.
I think this picture is from the same year. My dad looks so young, and he is holding my present, a toy that made noise and popped little plastic balls within a clear plastic globe.

My mom is holding me in front of the cake in the picture below. I remember my dad telling a story about when we traveled to Yellowstone Park. We were having a picnic in a spot in the park. A bear appeared. Dad grabbed me and ran for the car, leaving the food on the table cloth they had spread across the ground so carefully, but when he turned, mom was driving the bear away from the cake, like you would a pesky cat or dog, "Shew, Shew!" My dad always laughed about that. He always told about putting me in the car and returning to get mom too.

Things like cakes had sentimental value with my mother. I remember her telling me that Grandpa Williams always tried to make their birthdays special with something like that, and that is why she did that for us, and it's probably why she was willing to risk life and limb against a black bear for a cake, and she would still do it for any of her children or grandchildren too.

I remember a rattlesnake sounding at the ranch. It is a disturbing, unnerving sound you never forget. When we came to the screen door to see where the snake was at in the yard, our family cat had it cornered near a lilac bush. It was late afternoon, and shadows were just starting to point north. The cat's tail nervously switched back and forth. Mom rushed forward, grabbed the cat and jumped over the snake. I remember it striking at her. Then she placed the cat in one of our arms, retrieved dad's .22 pistol from the house and began firing it at the snake. The new Interstate was under construction at the time. Two workers appeared, when they heard the shots. I remember their foreman telling my dad what one worker told him about it the next day, "The first thing I did was take the gun from the woman." The men killed the snake with a shovel and returned to their work on the road.

What A Babe

Just when I think that I am a burden, I say something that makes my sweetheart laugh out loud, and I never heard her laugh out loud, not ever.

She had this "tee hee" thing she did when we were in high school, and occasionally she would give me this look and shake her head, but making her laugh out loud is fun. I live for that.

It happens at a movie, when the theater is quiet, and something strikes my bizarre sense of humor as funny when no one else seems to understand. In The Bucket List, no one knows the real deal about chemo therapy, unless you have experienced what Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman portrayed. At laughed myself sick.

And there are other times too, when one of us says or does something that is funny. After 34 years of marriage, it is a great thing to experience. I remember how quiet the first few meals were when we sat together as newly weds. I worried when I ran out of things to talk about very early, and since it only rains once or twice a summer in Snowville, Utah, the weather was not an option. Sir Francis Bacon once said something like this, "Wives are: young men's mistresses, middle-aged men's companions, and old men's nurses." The quote might be more of a paraphrase than a direct quote, but I do know this, my Annie is my sweetheart, my best friend, and yes, she is my nurse too.

Ten or fifteen years ago, this young teacher was bragging about his snow machines and toys, and I remember his saying that marriage was not an option for him, until he enjoyed life first. He was in his late twenties or early thirties at the time. I told him that I married when I was 21. He looked at me with wild eyes for a moment, wondering why I would make such a sacrifice. And then I told him my only regret: not marrying her sooner than I did. I still feel that way. But it is also important to realize that I married my sweetheart about four months after returning from my mission in Germany.

Tights, A Reason Some People Refuse To Participate In Wrestling

This is not a great scan of a picture, but it shows me in my wrestling uniform in late 1969. I was a starting offensive guard earlier in the year, and at this point, I lost a considerable amount of weight to wrestle at 155. My playing weight in football had been around 175. Doctors would not have allowed us to lose wieght like that now.

A few weeks ago, I had a chance to talk to my old football and wrestling coach, who now lives in near Lake Tahoe.

When he called me Jonie, I "teared up." No one outside my family had called me that for years, but that is what he always called me when I played for him. He was an incredible coach, who only stayed in Malad for one year.

He was not only an incredible coach, but he was an excellent teacher too, something you don't find in education very often at any level--middle school, high school or college. He was a positive force in the lives of his players.

The Importance Of Pictures

This picture is so important. It serves as a reminder of how humble our beginnings were. There was not a lot of money, and what we had, we worked very hard for it. My parents taught me that this concept was part of being independent. Dad taught me it was being a "Ward."

He taught me how important it was to realize how many good people lived lives to ensure that my name was something honorable, and my dad also taught me that I had to continue the tradition, because losing it could happen quickly.

The picture is also important, because it--and pictures like this of my parents holding me and me holding my own wife, children and grandchildren--shows them the love I had for them. I was loved. I did my best to show my family that same thing. I always assumed that families were that way. And it seemed natural where I grew up in Idaho, because my Annie experienced the same thing; however, as a teacher, I found that it was not the status quo. It is so important that we let our "little ones" know every minute how precious they are to us.

One Of Those Moments When I Am Sure That My Annie Was Sticking The Point of Her Index Finger In My Back As A Warning That I Was "Pushing My Luck"

I don't remember what I did in this picture to tease my Annie, but I know she was cussing me, immediately prior to the photographer snapping it.

The look on my face, divine rapture at the thought of teasing my sweetheart yet another time, is there if you look at the glint in my eye. The look on my Annie's face, wanting to slap me yet knowing that she would wait until we returned to the car to "damn me all to hell" or just give me "a good talking to" away from stranger's ears. And lastly, the mean grin that Cles wore, the silly grin on Lydia's face, and the embarrassed grin that Kristin wore all hint at the same thing, "Dad is doing something embarrassing again."

No one can deny the fact that we have had fun together as a family.

Great Family, Fantastic Cars And Interesting Periodicals

I wish I knew where they took this picture, but I do know this: the camera was a very good one, and the car is incredible. I wish I could recognize it. Grandpa Cles always had a nice car, although farm equipment and other things on the farm were more important. His philosophy was one that my dad taught me--cars and houses don't make you any money. I was always ashamed of the fact that our ranch house had no indoor plumbing. There was a shower in the front entrance, something that worked because it took visitors a while to drive to the house, and even then they had to lower a gate. Most vehicles of that time made enough noise that you could hear them with enough notice to grab a towel and run for the bedroom.

The ranch had an entrance where the shower was, a large kitchen, a front room and one bedroom. The house was very old. Like grandpa said, houses never made any money. However, the equipment was the best, and dad thought that way too. He always made sure we had equipment that was large enough to get the work finished when we need it.

In the photograph, Aunt Janice is holding a bottle of soda, which looks like an old Coca Cola bottle, although most of the bottles I remember seeing in the 50's were small 6 or 8 oz. bottles. Our family liked them, because there was more syrup and less carbonation in the drink. Grandma Liza is in the middle, and Aunt Laverne Ward is at the right. She was my grandpa's sister. She took care of her parents when they became older. Great Grandpa Jesse N. Ward died of colon cancer in the early fifties, probably 1953 or 1954. I am not sure when Great Grandma Julia died. She went blind when she was older. My Grandma Liza always said what a nice woman she was. Her blindness frightened me when I was little. I only remember going to her once or twice. It must have made her sad to know that I felt fear like that.

Aunt Laverne had these large storage bins of National Geographic. They were from the early years when archaeologists discovered the Valley of the Kings in Egypt, and they showed the pictures of King Tut's tomb. I always wanted to do a dig like that as a scientist when I was little, and even now those kinds of things interest me. They probably interested all young boys from my generation and older. Indiana Jones was a fantasy character that Stephen Spielberg invented that recreated the matinee hero from those times. They were movies that you went to on holidays in my hometown. Having an empty one-pound Rocky Mountain butter carton gave you a free ticket during that time, and they always showed movies like that. Sin bad the Sailor or something like Indiana Jones. Harrison Ford's portrayal may have come from people who also took a liking to old magazines that displayed old cultures and ancient tombs found by archaeologists like I mentioned.

I Didn't Know John McClane, And I Don't Know Bruce Willis, But John McCain, You're No John McClane!

Old, Grizzled Third-Party Candidate May Steal Support From McCain

I know some must be tired of my political things, but most of them are too funny not to share them. This one from a group that offers political satire is really good. Their other things are great too.

And this one is great too.


Cindy McCain Claims She's 'Just Like Any Other Female Human'

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.