Great Memories Of My Grandsons

What is exciting about a child is how they can take something so simple and use it for practical purposes, and even though I'm 57 years old and would never fit it a shoe box, unless of course The Jolly Green Giant happens to leave an empty shoe box in my backyard with a trampoline for me to bounce into the thing, I still understand the whole "little boy" mind set.

My teachers and various family members have called me childish for decades.

If I could fit into that cardboard heaven, "my ride" would be a red Turbo Porsche Carrera or an Audi Turbo TT with those "baseball glove-style" stitched seats, and I would fantasize about revving the engine and smoking the tires.

I can almost hear the whine of the Porsche as I race down that long highway, one without nasty patrolmen, who would probably take away my license for the speed I would drive.

This moment I now savor will never happen. I am a retired teacher, a handicapped one who occasionally has to ride in an electric cart, so popping the clutch on a high performance machine would be out of the question, yet there are other things in my life I was also told I shouldn't do, and I did it anyway, because it was so damned much fun.

Being a teacher also means that you don't drive a Porsche or even an Audi.

But if I had listened to everything that people told me throughout my life, I would have died in early 2005, and besides, coloring outside the lines is something I have always excelled at, so when it comes to watching my grandsons play like this, I love to live the whole thing vicariously.

My Jack and Tommy Toddler Pictures

I think he wanted a boat like that too.

When Jack saw this picture last week, he recognized Tommy, but he wanted to know just what that thing was in the tub.

It's unbelievable to me to realize how incredible it has been to spend as much time as I have with my grandchildren.

Last summer was incredible. We traveled a great deal, but even more importantly, we had all our grandchildren here close to six weeks.

Just thinking about that made me realize that even my own grandfathers never knew what I preferred to eat for breakfast. For almost four days, I had all three home in Idaho Falls, while Ann attended some meetings for her part-time job at the Department of Education.

Jack likes eggs for breakfast, although that is changing--especially since that's what he has liked since he was two. One day I would cook a scrambled egg for him, and on then for another day, I would make him an omelet or an egg sunny side up or over easy. Occasionally, when we have some very good bread, he loves a "cowboy egg." This is where you take a glass and cut a small middle section of a slice of bread--buttered on both sides--and then fry it on both sides.

Tommy likes waffles with a bit of butter and strawberry jam. Ann loved bagels with strawberry cream cheese--the great stuff she would call pink frosting. I could never tell whether she liked the strawberry taste or if she just liked the color.

Jack's picture above and the one of both boys at the right remind me of so many incredible memories. They were best friends from the beginning, and they seemed to communicate very early, although they occasionally fought like brothers would do, and that still happens occasionally.

At my age I finally see how important it is to see "firsts," and even seconds and thirds.

In other words, it's incredible to see a "first swim," or a first bath or something else that would qualify as something like that--like the meal served "on" Tommy in the picture at the right.

Without a doubt, the time for me right now is incredibly important. The pictures remind me of how much fun I've had with them.

Jack's second trip to Disneyland was fun, a kind of reminder of how much fun he had with Tommy there just a year earlier. In this picture, Jack is only two, but we had so much fun there when both boys were soaking up the California sun and enjoying the Disney vibes.

This trip in February of '05 was so much fun.

The start was being able to sit in the front of the monorail and watch Jack's reaction to seeing all the sights of the park. And the trip was fun, but every day brings some memory I will think of regarding grandchildren and the way they look at the world.

There is nothing boring about grandchildren.

And there's always a photo moment, whether it's a Disney Park, or a road trip, or a first bath or a meal at home or in a restaurant.

Regardless of the place, it's a fun moment for parents and grandparents, but it's an excruciatingly embarrassing situation for a teenager.

Unfortunately for some time in a teenager's future, even a first sneeze, when that teen

is only in diapers, doesn't go unnoticed.

It's about karma. Parents put up with children, which for them involves both the best of times and the worst of times, and children eventually have to put up with parents, the best of Kodak moments and the worst ones too.

No matter how a teen might view that picture, there is always a fond memory in an adult's mind, a reminder of simpler times, innocent times.

Tommy's Second Birthday

When I found this picture, I had to add it, because it brought back so many memories.

I recognize the table as the one that Lydia and Jeff had in Ontario, California. Jeff did some of his post medical school stuff there, and I can't remember whether it was residency or another term, but I do remember one thing: their apartment was 25 minutes from Disneyland.

The first year they lived there, we bought our Disney Premium Passes. It was the first of three we purchased. I had always hoped we could do that some time.

The Reason It's Not Goofy to Take A Mickey Mouse Vacation

Our family tradition of going to Disneyland began in the very early 80's. Ann had to remind me what I was missing. She wanted to go in 81 or so, but I bought a new thousand-dollar color television, which at the time was quite expensive, in spite of the fact that it was neither high definition nor anything but a 32 inch television with an incredible walnut cabinet.

The next year she gave me a choice after she booked a trip to Disneyland: I could either stay home and think about the fun that she, Cles and Lydia were having, or I could go too. There were only the four of us then, but it began a tradition that happened every year in the fall.

We traveled to Disneyland during the Malad Deer Hunting Holiday, which began after school on a Wednesday and lasted through the week.

After packing the car Tuesday night, I would pick up Ann and the kids, and we drove straight through to LA, although this first trip was one we did at the end of school.

The others that began in the middle of the week involved a all-night drive. We always arrived in time for the park to open, and we didn't miss that. The first day was tough, because I would get tired toward the end of the day, but we didn't let it spoil the fun we had together.

So it explains why I would drive to LA and sit near Main Street Station near the front gate and sit on a bench and absorb the vibes.

I would think of the memories, and for those who know me, I don't forget much of anything.

Just when those memories seemed to be the only visit we made to Southern California, since our children were all out of the house, grandchildren came along.

It was a second chance to see the wonder in little eyes and see them experience everything my own children felt and loved.

Jack loves Pirate's Cove and Haunted Mansion. Tommy loves Pirates and Thunder Mountain Railroad. Anna loves The Adventures of Winnie The Pooh and Princess Dresses. Both boys crave churros.

I guess it's the fun thing about the park and having grandchildren. There is always a new adventure to look forward to having, and when I become so old that I merely sit at Main Street Station and listen to the music and the laughter and shouts and an occasional cry from an over-indulged child, it will still be enough for me to make that trip to LA.

I will then have many additional memories to think about while sitting on that bench too.

Our Family Loves Trains

Tommy loved Thomas The Train, and he began collecting the small wooden locomotives and cars. Even as late as last summer in Minnesota, I watched my grandson set up tracks in some imaginary world he created.

One day I found a T-Rex and a Stegosaurus along the route, which made me smile, because it was like the train ride at Disneyland, and then on an another day, Star Wars ships and figures mingled along the track.

It was fun to watch his interest in trains, but when Tommy and Jeff found this train arriving in Ohio, we took Jack to see a similar ride at Heber City, not far from Park City.

When Ann and I had pictures taken of Tommy and Anna like we did for Jack, the photographer made also made books like we did for Jack. And again, I wrote a poem to accompany the photographs that day.

Tommy's was about Thomas the train.

It wasn't a stretch, because those locomotives and cars were his favorite toys at one time.

It's difficult to see little guys like this grow up.

Tommy is now almost 7. And like everyone, he wants to reflect the changes he experiences.

He discovered books and loves to read. And he doesn't to be called Tommy.

Then I remembered how badly I hated being called Jonie. I put up with it only from family or close friends.

That realization helped me understand why Tommy likes to be called Thomas or even Andrew, his middle name.

He wants nothing to do with those things that portray him as a little boy. "I'm not a little boy any more," he told his mom.

Jack does the same thing now, but it's still difficult to admit that both boys are older now.

It makes me understand how people thought the same thing about me, and how difficult it is to let go of notions that don't recognize change.

It's foolish to live in the past, regardless how much fun it might be.

Maybe it's remembering when times seemed so simple and when things were so much easier, yet during those nostalgic times, things were never easy.

I guess we forget the difficult parts. It's kind of like how I can never remember the words to a song by Frank Zappa, even though I remember listening to him on the radio.

September of 1974

In September of 1974, Ann's dad flew us with the family to LA, where we went to David and Rochelle's wedding in the Los Angeles Temple.

The temple itself reminds me of the same architectural style we have in Idaho Falls, except it's much larger. I had never been to California.

After the ceremony, we had lunch in this incredible Mexican restaurant in downtown LA. Everything was so different, because at that time, there really weren't any places in our area where we could get food like that.

It was also the first visit to Disneyland. At that time, you bought a pack of tickets marked as A, B, C, D or E. There were no all day passes, so it appeared to be expensive, but Ann's dad paid for that, except for an occasional packet we bought to go on some extra rides.

He didn't like that when I spent money on the tickets, because he knew Ann and I were going to be stretching the money we saved through the summer at college that fall semester.

Ann and I moved to Provo and lived in an apartment complex called Meadows Apartments. They were very nice, except for the railroad track. We could count on a train coming through every night between midnight and two a.m.

Ann and I did one semester, and we ran out of money. Ann finished everything except for a few credits that she knew she could take as correspondence courses. We moved home and lived in an apartment in the top of the large Dives home on Bannock, just across the street from Grandma Liza's house, but at that time, she no longer lived there.

Grandma sold the home early in the summer and moved to Ogden after marrying Kelly Schuda. It seemed like so much changed in such a short time.

I worked for my dad. I decided I was wasting time at school, and I was. There was nothing I wanted to study at that moment, so for the next three years, I continued working on the farm.

Ann finished her classes and graduated from BYU in the spring.

A Memory Of My Maternal Grandfather

One day my dad and I drove through town after loading the two-ton truck with a large load of hay. We were on the way to the ranch, and we talked as we rode through town.

There had been some talk about some things found in one of the old buildings in the business area, and I told my dad about a memory I had of my Grandpa Williams.

I could not have been older than two, and my grandpa held me in my arms. I remember his taking me into a place that had animal heads on the walls, because while his friends made a fuss over me, I looked at the curious heads of animals.

I described it, and my dad looked at me carefully.

"The old shit took you into Mission Billiards," my dad said. At least thirty-five years later, my dad was upset that my grandfather would take me into a bar, but I guess I look at it differently.

My grandpa was proud of me, and he wanted to show me off to his friends.

I posted the picture of the way that Mission Billiards looked at one time, and strange as it seems, I recognize it.

What I find interesting is that a place in St. Anthony, that once was a bar, is now a restaurant called Chiz's. Their shrimp is incredible, and it specializes in Asian food. The old bar where restaurant customers can opt to sit looks just like the one in this picture.

My grandpa died in an accident in Garland, Utah in the fall of 1961. School had just started, and it was a typical warm September day.

My third grade teacher Mrs. Hartley acted strangely for some reason. She stood in front of the class and told everyone that they could go out for recess, but she asked me to stay behind to talk to her.

My heart pounded in my chest, and I wondered what I had done. After everyone left, she said something that made me worry even more: "Jon, come up to me and sit on my lap for a minute."

I thought I was really in for it, and I worried just what horrible thing I had done. After sitting on her lap, she told me that the husband of our elementary music teacher Mrs. Williams died that day.

I wondered for a minute in my confusion and fear who that was, and then I realized she was talking about my grandmother. My grandfather had been crushed under a wheat truck while hauling grain.

My third grade teacher began to cry, and she hugged me. "You're such a brave little boy." I felt her tears on my shirt and arm. Her body shook as she held me and sobbed.

I remember the day of the funeral. There was a thundershower that crept across the valley early that afternoon. I sat and watched the lightening and listened to the thunder through an open screen door, and I remember the smell of rain--that scent of ozone that happens in weather like this during summers.

As a child, I thought maybe it was God's way of crying over the tragedy. It had been a horrible couple of days. Finding out was not pleasant at school, but an incredible teacher who loved her students was able to help me through it.

My Grandma Williams is in the center of the picture. At her left is my Aunt Sondra, and Aunt Mavis, my mom and Aunt Myra Jean are at the right of grandma.

At the left is my Uncle Jack. From left to right, Uncle Dwight, Uncle Brent and Uncle Rick are on the back row.

When I was only four or five, my Uncle Jack worked for my dad on the farm. My dad told me about snakes, and he told me I should run to him or my mom immediately if I saw one.

For some time, I would run into the house whenever I saw an earthworm, regardless of the size.

After dinner one day, my uncle let me walk with him to the gate, which was only a short twenty yards from the house. He told me to watch him walk down the lane on his way back to the field, and as soon as I saw him reach the highway, I was to go back in the house.

I stood at the gate. The fence line had a thin snow fence and a bit of brush here and there amid tall grass. There was a strange sound, and I saw snakes. I ran into the house to tell my mother. At first, she didn't believe me, but then she took me by the hand and went to look. There were three of four large rattle snakes.

My mom called for my uncle, and he ran back to the house. The rattling noise was horrible. Mom and Uncle Jack killed all of them, cutting them into chunks no larger than Vienna Sausages from a can. When my dad returned that evening, he looked at the snakes--or what was left of them--and their rattles. They were the largest he ever saw on the ranch.

My aunts played a role in my life. Uncle Jack and Brent were very close. They often called, and Uncle Brent and Aunt Myrna drove from Salt Lake City to see me twice. He was always a practical joker, but I will never forget how upset he was to see me when I was sick.

Uncle Jack was in Arizona and too far away to visit me, but he called often. He always tried to think of a joke to make me happy during that difficult time. Aunt Myra Jean was also instrumental when I was growing up in Malad.

She taught me lessons for a couple of months when I had to do a musical number for MIA. I went to the Second Ward Church every morning at six a.m. Aunt Jean would sit with me and show me what I needed to practice, and then I would stay until 7:00 or 7:30 before driving home to get breakfast before school.

My grandmother was our music teacher in elementary school. She taught all of us that we were to be proud of Welsh heritage. We came from a long line of poets, musicians and warriors.

My Soul Mate Was A Celebrity

I have to add one more short clip I found in a storage bin with things from our past. Sadly, we put things away and forget where they are until we begin "dejunking" and sorting through boxes of materials. This bin will never be thrown out, because there are countless pictures and other documents that not only bring back memories but also remind us just what we accomplished in our youth.

It isn't that I need reminding what a remarkable gift I found in my Annie. I want my children to know, and I also want my grandchildren to realize how important it is to begin early to establish a set of skills that prepare a person for a successful future.

Meeting A Poet At The "U"

When I completed the correspondence course at the University of Utah in 1979, as I mentioned in an earlier blog, two graduate students appeared and talked with me. They were doing some work in the office at that time, and I mentioned to one how I had always wanted to write poetry.

It's the Welsh "thing." Growing up in Malad, my grandmother began by telling us we--as descendants of those immigrants from Wales--were to find a joint destiny. She told us that we were musicians and singers, poets and warriors.

We "got" the warrior thing, because sports was always a big thing in my hometown, even when our teams weren't winning. Music was too. But the poetry was something else all together. I had hoped to learn that while at ISU, but it never happened.

One graduate student told me something interesting: poetry is not difficult to write. I'm pretty sure this student was David Lee. Just short of ten years later, he was at Southern Utah State. He was a successful Utah poet. During a seminar at Utah State while I worked on my MA in English, Dr. Lee presented his poetry. He inspired me to write the poem at the bottom of this blog as we looked at various exercises, and the poem I wrote about my wife began initially during that seminar during a free writing exercise.

He read a series of poems that were fascinating views of Utah culture. Here's one entitled "The Muffler and the Law" that the audience loved:

1

You got a sow in heat? John sez

this morning when he called

I sed oh yas John I got four right now

John sez it wouldn't one

be that big black one would it?

I sed yas she's in I'm going to turn her

in with the boar this afternoon

John sez I'll be right down

to get her I want to borrow that sow

be hung up

John brought his beat up truck

to my house with his big spotted boar

loaded in the back and a partition

so another hog could be put in

but the boar couldn't get to it

he drove right out to my loading chute

by the time I got there

John was trying to load up my big black sow

I sed John what are you doing?

John looked at me like I was crazy

he sez you gone hep me or stand there?

I didn't say anyting else

I helped John oad up my big black sow

and John drove off with her

in his truck and never did say where.

2

Late afternoon John drove up

to my house he honks

he yells Dave come hep me unload

this big black sow of yours

she's done bred

I don't need her no more

he drives out back

to the loading chute

and unloads the sow

before I can get there

3

John sed what the hell's going on

I mean you come get my big black sow

drive off without telling me anything

and you bring her back bred

to your spotted boar

what if I didn't want her bred to him?

John sez no charge

so it was all right then

I was going to tell him he could take

the other three sows that were in

for a ride all day tomorrow if he wanted

but John shut the gate on his stock racks

and sat down on his tailgate

it was this deputy sheriff

John sez so I sed which? John sez

that one in Richfield

last week going to the auction at Salina

I run over this rockslide

on the cutoff by Cove Fort

I busted my muffler pipe loost

and all the brackets I had to stop

on the summit and fix it all up

with bailing wire

it took a hour almost and I was late

for the auction so I had to go

the muffler was loost

and it made noise

but I didn't have no more time

I had to hurry

I got to Richfield

here comes this law

his red lights on and his siren honking

right in the middle of town

I got out and sez I'm ate to the auction

he slams his car door and put his hand

on it he puts his other hand right down

on his gun sez I don't know whar

YOU from mister but in MY town

we got a law here

I'm standing there with a truckload of hogs

people driving by slow looking at me

right in the middle of Richfield

I sez I'm late to the auction again

what I done wrong this time?

he sez in my town we got a law

against loud mufflers so you gone have

to pay you a fine for it mister

I sez look I done hit this rock slide

coming and busted

I tried to wire it up but couldn't

you look under here you can see

I'm late to the auction

his red lights was still going

I bent down to show him the wire underneath

he jumped in his car and taken out

his microphone he called this other law

so I stood up he sez you stand right there

I sez whar? he sez right there

he jumps out his car and puts his hand

on his gun again sez you trying

to resist arrest on me

I sez no I'm trying to show you

the bailing wire under here

holding up the pipes and muffler

where I hit the rock on the mountain

but I caint hold the muffler on right

and the auction starts in fifteen minutes

he sez you just stand right there still

I got a reaforcement coming

we gone arrest you

4

I sed what happened John? John

sez the other law he come

and they both wrote me out a ticket

for loud mufflers and resisting arrest

and the other one that come

sez he believed I was speeding too

but they never wrote a ticket for it

and that's too bad cause I was

I was late for the auction

I sez can I go now? but the law

he sez yo got to pay your fine

I sez teh auction started five minutes ago

and I got to get there

the other law sez why you

going to the auction you selling hogs?

I never sez a word to that dumb sonofabitch

he's standing right there by my truck

loaded up with twelve top hogs

wallering each other in the middle of town

all the cars driving by watching

the first law sez you got to foller us

to the J.P. I sez isn't it no other way?

he sez you trying to bribe a officer of law?

I sez hell no I'm trying to get to the auction

the other law sez whar?

and the first sez Salina they sell hogs at one

I sez that was ten minutes ago

the other law sez you selling these hogs?

but I wasn't talking to him

the law sez you want a regular judge

you can come back next Friday

but the fine goes up for that

I sez can I go now? and the law se yas

but the other one sez not till you

get that muffler fix

I had to get my truck towed

to a filling station four blocks away

and the muffler pipe he welted

he charged me forty-seven dollars

and sixty-five cents to do it

I could of done it for a dollar

at home if I had my tools

by then the auction was over

I had to drive all them pigs home

after I'd loaded them up that morning

to take to the auction at Salina

5

I sed that's too bad John

John sez I couldn't sleep about it

for a man to talk to me that way

all he had to done was look

under the truck so he could see

it wasn't my fault

I tried to fix it best I could

he sez the fine would go up

so I sez to myself John it's done costed

fifty dollars almost so you

might as well get your say out of it

but I didn't have no sow in heat

so that's how come I called you

I sed John I don't understand

John sez I drove to Richfield

with that panel between the hogs

my spotted boar he almost chewed it

in two trying to get your big black sow

but he couldn't so I went right to the spot

where that law pulled me over

in the middle of town

I stopped my truck and got out

climbed up on my stockracks

I took out the panel

let the boar go to her

I sed you did what? John sez

by god she wasn't quite ready yet

she squolt and here come the cars to see

I bet they could hear her half a mile

then here come the law

with his red lights on

he sez what in the hell is you doing?

I sez here I am to pay my fine

he sez you get that truck out of here

with them pigs people's watching

I sez whar? he waved his arms he sez

everwhar see them they all coming

I sez I got to pay my fine I come to go

to court he sez whar? I sez right here

lord it was horrible my spotted boar

he slobbered all over your black sow

it was hog slobber on both her ears

that law he's as red in the face

as a fox's ass he couldn't do nothing

he finally sez you get your truck

you foller me I sez that's fine

but go slow I got a load of hogs in mine

I caint be jostling them any

we drove to the courthouse

6

Judge he sez what's going on?

law he sez you honor he's disturbing peace

Judge he sez how? law he sez

he's got these pigs in his truck

and they copperlating in the middle of town

Judge he sez whar? law he sez

right out there so Judge gets up

he looks out his winder there's my truck

by now my spotted boar he's done

he lain down and wasn't getting up

pooped Judge sez all I see is a hog

law he sez but they was scruting!

Judge he sez don't you tak that way

in a court of law you hear me?

all I see is a hog and it isn't no law

that sez this man caint haul no hog

through tgown in his truck yet

so I sez you honor I want you to listen

to my side of this so I told him

the whole story about the muffler

and the law how I missed the auction

he looks at that law he sez

is it the way it happened like he sez?

law he commenced to squirming

but he has to say yassir you honor finally

I told him how it costed me fifty dollars almost

to get it fix and I had to be towed

four blocks with twelve top hogs in the truck

Judge he sez case dismissed and he sez

to me he's sorry about it all

specially the fifty dollars so I sez it's the way it is

I didn't have no more hard feelings

so we shaken hands and I left

law he's mad as hell outside waiting

he sez mister you ever come to my town

again I'll make you sweat I'll

arrest your ass and thow you in jail

I sez mister deputy sheriff law

you listen here you listen good

you ever bother me again for anything

next time I'll pull a traier and bring

eight sows and three boars all together I'll park

in front of the schoolhouse and take out the panel

I'll go in and tell them you sez for me

to meet you there and where are you

you posta have the money for me for them hogs

if you don't believe it you must try

and I sez then so you must get out my way

I walked on past him and went and left

he never sez one more word to me

7

so here's your big black sow

John sed and he stood up

she's done bred to my spotted boar

but you don't owe me nothing

I ain't never won one with the law before

so I reckon this one's on me

John closed his tailgate and leaned in

and patted his spotted boar

on the head and then John got in

his beat up truck and drove home for supper