Watching "Rear Window" On Halloween Night...

 The Trick-Or-Treaters have all returned to their homes, tired but still excited to have gotten free candy. Well, not free--it did cost some work, a costume, an evening stroll, knocking on doors and a little begging. Hopefully, all that walking and thanks to parental control--a limited candy intake--will result in a good night's sleep for all those little ghosts and goblins.

Us?

Once the little beggars were done, we came in from the cold and fired up a movie. Tonight's selection?

Rear Window

A classic.

With each passing year, thousands of movies are made. With each one brings a new entertainment choice for the public. A movie released in 1954 must compete with everything made after it, as well as before. To be chosen by a little family in Northern Utah, it needs to be a good film, a memorable film, a classic. Rear Window is all those things.

Yes, it's a sleeper, a thinking person's film. It's not flashy, but every line drips with meaning, every shot is important.

We're all tired. My wife spent much of the day making homemade doughnuts. I assembled and then disassembled our candy cannon. The kids spent much of the night loading the cannon with candy and blasting it out to the hoards. Now, we're all sitting in a semi-dark room watching Grace Kelly do her best to entice Jimmy Stewart (why she had to even put forth any kind of effort is beyond me...). It's been a great day. Its ending deserves a great film. We picked a good one.

Give Thanks...A Photo And The Memories

 We did some cleaning last week, stuff buried in boxes in the garage. I sometimes wonder why I keep things in boxes. I don't see them. I don't even know they're there sometimes. They just sit in those boxes, day after day, year after year...

Until one day, we open the boxes and the memories can breathe.

I've kept some things from my LDS mission, things in boxes. While cleaning, I came across my mission discussion booklet, a sort of Clif Notes for teaching the precepts and doctrine used by missionaries when they find someone who is interested in learning more. 

On the day my group was to travel to Denmark, we boarded a plane bound for Seattle, the first leg of our trip. As we waited for the plane to take off, one of the stewards told us some of the Seattle Supersonics basketball players were sitting in first class. A few of us decided to go talk to them.

I don't know who the other players were, but I recognized one...Tom Chambers. For those of a certain age, Tom Chambers was a legend, a local player from the University of Utah who made it to the big leagues, not only made it, but made a career of playing in the NBA. He played for several teams, including the local NBA team, the Utah Jazz. Meeting him was a big deal for a nineteen-year old.

Though he and I had never met, I recognized him and he recognized who we were. "Hello," he said. "Where are you headed?" he asked me.

"Denmark," I said.

"Well, you look like one of them." I remember him saying and I thought that was funny. I asked for an autograph, handed him the only thing on which to write an autograph, and he obliged. After that, the steward quickly ushered us from first class, and we followed her instructions.

The memory was buried in a box in my mind. It came flooding back as I opened the book, remembered the encounter on the plane, and quickly found the signature. Even though the book and the memories have been buried in a box these many years, I'm grateful I saved the book. I'm grateful for the memories on that plane and all the memories that followed in the next couple of years. Seeing what was written in my little book brought many of those memories back to breathe.

Man...I Miss Harmons

 

We've enjoyed our new home, new neighborhood, new town. The air is clean, the people are friendly almost to a fault, and the pace is slower. It's been a little slice of heaven, but yesterday I had to go to our old grocery store where we used to live because we just couldn't find Horseradish root...

Man, I miss Harmons.

There are, of course, things I don't miss about the store...mostly the prices. We didn't buy everything from there, but there are certain things in that store we couldn't find other places, or if we did, they were much farther away from where we lived.

I found the horseradish root and just looked around, took everything in. It's such a nice place to shop. We have stores in our little town, two grocery stores in fact. They are okay and possess a certain charm. If fact, my son works at one of them. But, they can't justify stocking the things we'd find at Harmons--few stores can. We just don't have the people. It's as simple as that.

There are many things we miss, the people, the mountain, the memories that return when I would walk down a city street or visit the same buildings I visited as a child. We're making new memories now and I suppose that's what life is all about--adapting to change, accepting it, embracing it.

Of course, if Harmons decided to build a store up north, I would not complain.

Cache Valley...Not Like I Remember

 Earlier this week my wife, son, and I found ourselves driving around Cache Valley in Northern Utah.

It's no longer the place I remember.

It's definitely not the place my parents would remember if they were still with us.

My mom and dad lived in Cache Valley in the 1950s. My dad graduated with an engineering degree (tool engineering, to be more specific--not sure if anyone remembers that particular major...). My mom worked at a bank and helped put him through college. In fact, she earned her P.H.T degree--Putting Husband Through. She got a diploma and everything.

When I attended USU, Fall Quarter, 1984, my mom told us about the city and how it looked when she lived there. Much had changed since the Fifties.

Much has changed since the Eighties, too. 

I took this picture of the Wal*Mart Pick-Up dock. Wal*Mart wasn't there back then, nor was a thousand other structures. There's round-a-bouts and restaurants where the restaurant chains did not exist in the Eighties. There's also many many more people.

I suppose almost everything has gone through drastic changes in the past four decades. Cache Valley is no exception. The reason for the extraordinary change is because it's such a wonderful place to live, people don't want to leave, and because people who get together create other people, well...there you go.

Even though it's much more crowded and congested, it's still a beautiful valley to visit...

It's just not like I remember.

Happy Birthday, Mom...

Today, if my mom were with us, she would have turned ninety-one years old.

Ninety-one.

She was born on this date in 1931. She was born into a home without running water, without electricity. She grew up during the Great Depression and before that nightmare could come to an end, the world engaged in yet another global war.

She survived, married a WWII vet, adopted three children, lost her husband six years after adopting the last child, and raised her family alone.

She is, in a word, my hero.

Normally, on this day, I would take a carved pumpkin to the cemetery and place it on my parent's headstone. I won't make it today, but will tomorrow. We no longer live within walking distance. It's okay--I think she won't mind her birthday gesture being a day late.

I hope when my time comes I can look back at a legacy half as incredible as hers. I still miss her--a pain I pray never stops. Happy 91st, mom. Sorry the pumpkin's a little late.

Finally...

 We've been doing more housecleaning this week--since it's the first cold week of the season, it's a good time to do this. We came across a box of frame photos in the garage. Even though we've been in the house a couple of years, we're still gun-shy about putting nails in the flawless and un-nailed walls. That's why many of our frame photos and paintings are still boxed up from the move.

Today, after opening the box, we found something we've been looking for for two years...a gift from my son's grandmother.

My mother passed away of cancer in July, 2007. A few months later at Christmas my mom's children and grandchildren were given a surprise. When it was evident my mom wasn't going to survive the cancer, she hired a niece to create a plaque for each person, each with an inspirational thought or saying unique to the person. The gifts were incredibly personal and mean so much to each of us, especially since they were given to us after she passed away. At our old home, we had a perfect place to hang each of the plaques. When it was time to move we packed up everything and unpacked it an hour north.

We found five of the six plaques. Our youngest's son's was missing. We thought, "no problem--it'll be found." The problem was, it wasn't. We looked at each box labeled posters or paintings, but we didn't think it could possibly be in a box labeled photos.

Even though we didn't have our complete set, we wondered where the best place to hang the plaques would be. We decided above the sliding glass door in the great room would be nice. After we found the last plaque today, we knew where they should go. After a flew well-placed nails and eyeballing the levels, the display is up.

Yes, it took a few years for the nuggets of inspiration to see the light of day. It's another way this house is truly our home.

A Cat In The Food House...

 Did a little shuffling in our storage room today. It's also are cat's domain. He rules his kingdom as a curious and sometimes callous leader. No dogs are admitted into his realm--dogs (some dogs...) have proven themselves unworthy. But he allows us humans to enter...

As long as we give his head a little scratch.

There is a room in our cat's space, a room within a room. Behind that door we've stored some supplies, including bottles and bottles of canned pickles due to--for us--a bumper cucumber crop this summer. We don't enter the room within a room often, hence the need for shuffling. Since the door is not opened much, when the cat sees the opportunity, he takes it, usually darting past us to see all the wonders contained therein. 

Is it safe to have a cat in the food house? I have no idea, but he doesn't stay in the room too long. We shew him out after a little while, after the cat has surveyed the human food. 

I think if I were a cat and there was a door behind a door in my kingdom, I'd be curious, too. 

Still Appreciating My Son's Art...

 Years ago, my son and I worked at Lagoon's Frightmares. We were assigned to the Hackenslash show as house managers--basically, our job was to set-up the stage pre-show, make sure crazies didn't rush the stage, and get the stage ready for the next show or shut it down for the night. It was a good job, as jobs go. Not too stressful, and working with the talent was a lot of fun.

We also had down times. After our work was done, in between shows we'd either watch the stage or chill with the performers. I usually watched the stage. My son usually chilled with the performers. He also brought a sketch book with him and he drew each of the Hackenslash characters. The troupe was so impressed, they used his artwork and ordered hoodies for cast and crew.

They were a hit.

That was at least six years ago.

This past weekend, the stage manager of the show I'm in was wearing his hoodie from that season. I asked to snap a picture to show my son that people still wear his artwork and proudly so. A few years ago the current Hackenslash performers at the time asked me if my son still had the computer files--they wanted to make hoodies for their group as well.

That's what strange about art. I can affect people at the time, or years, decades, centuries, even millennia later. No way these hoodies last that long, but it did this proud papa's heart good to see something my son made still being appreciated.

Give Thanks...Our Yard Sale Summer

 The sign, with words barely legible from the rain, is a fitting conclusion to our summer. It visually told us that the season--of yard sales--was over.

What a summer it was.

We've been in our new home two full years this fall. Last summer it seemed all of our free time was used putting in our yard. As last winter transitioned to spring, my wife and I asked each other, "Where are all the yard sales up here?" We moved from a much more populated area--there seemed to be yard sales everywhere. Thinking back last spring, we couldn't remember seeing many yard sales the summer after the move.

One day in spring my wife and I were on our way to Logan when we past our first yard sale. It was on the main road a few blocks from our house. We actually drove by, then decided we ought to check it out.

That started it all.

We ended up buying a foot massager, a 2002 Olympic volunteer Marker coat and some other knick-knacks. The next week we were driving into town when we past another yard sale sign. Once again, we drove past, decided ought to check it out because it worked so well the week before, turned around, and found some treasures. We bought things for the yard...a cart, an antique children's wagon, and our beloved windmill that was destroyed in the last storm.

After that, we started looking for yard sales. It became part of our weekly routine. We'd get up Friday mornings and drive into town. We checked the high-traffic intersections, then the large green power box in front of Kent's Grocery Store. That's where the savvy yard salers post their adverts. Most yard sales were held on both Fridays and Saturdays. We check out the Friday sales, then do the same thing on Saturday mornings. We even got the kids--and by extension, the dog--to join us. We usually bought something at every sale, even if it was only trinkets that cost a buck or two.

We came home with some amazing finds, and admittedly, some junk, too. That stuff we plan on selling when we hold a yard sale of our own next spring.

The sign, wet and almost unreadable, signaled the end of an extremely successful season. Here's hoping next year is just a good. We're thankful we were able to pick up so many things, and something we did not expect...we met so many amazing people, listened to their stories, and maybe even helped them out a bit. All in all, not the worst thing.

Something EVERY Original VW Beetle Owner Knows...The Smell Of The Engine

 Oh, the memories came flooding back. 

Last week I found myself staring at a 1971 restored VW beetle. It was absolutely beautiful. The thing was fully restored by factory technicians and it was just a joy to see it. I talked to an employee at the business and I told him that if I worked in that building, I would not get anything done because all I would do all day long is sit and stare at that car.

"Oh, go ahead and check it out," he said. "You can even check out the engine."

Done...all I needed was permission.

I opened the deck lid and that smell...that VW air-cooled engine smell hit me. There's nothing quite like it. Something about the smell of an original VW beetle engine is unique, unlike any car I've ever been around.

I blog a lot about VWs. I can't help it. Now that they're even more rare, seeing them is more of a treat. This car, though. It was upper deck special. I'm glad I got to check it out and I'm glad I got to open up the engine compartment and take in that VW beetle smell.

Even If We DO Deserve A Donut...Sometimes We Can't Have One

 Oh, how we wish we could.

My son works in the bakery of our local grocery store. The other day I was waiting for his shift to end and I saw the display.

#YouDeserveADonut

Even if that's true, sometimes we can't have one.

My family has food allergies, some react worse than others. I think it's generally known that I have the fewest reactions of anyone in the family. I have had a doughnut from the bakery and it was good. My family, however, cannot indulge.

Sometimes, at the end of a shift, my son will bring home a pastry, and as an obligation, I'll eat it. I mean, I don't want to disappoint him ;). Our family began restricting certain foods back when our youngest was a child. That was almost two decades ago. All those years, my kids ate almost no Halloween candy, no pastry from the stores, no sugar cereal. The amazing thing is, they don't complain, at least, not much. My kids and wife are troopers.

Yes, I agree--we all deserve a donut...

Too bad we can't all have one.

Only Two More Weekends...To Get The Crud Scared Out Of You

 It's hard to tell from the above photo, but if you look carefully you'll see a line of people waiting to buy tickets to a show...

You'll also see the legs on the two girls in the center of the photo are freakishly strange--this is because I did a panorama shot and the girls were so disrespectful they kept on walking while I took the picture.

But, do not focus on the girls--focus on the line. It's massive. It bends around the building where others are waiting in line as well.

If you're unfamiliar with the show I'm doing this fall, it's called Séance, and it's at Lagoon Amusement Park. There are only two weekends left to see the show (fewer, if winter weather, i.e. snow, arrives early...). So, if you are planning on seeing our show, you must arrive early and wait in line. You must get a ticket for the show. Tickets are sold just to the south of the theater (located near the Arcade at the center of the park...). Tickets go on sale 45 minutes before we do our first show.

Friday: first show - 6pm (five shows total)

Saturday: first show - 4pm (seven shows total)

Sunday: first show - 4pm (four shows total).

Over the past several weekends, our shows have been selling out before we do our first show, so if you want to see us before the season ends on 10/30/22, you'll need to be in line as soon as you can.

Fellow cast member posted this picture on social media. It tells you everything you need to know.

If you are planning on attending Lagoon's Frightmares this season, please find me at the show. I'd love to see you and I hope you get to see the scariest thing you'll see all year (election results not withstanding...)

Provo's Center Street...So Much To See

 Today, I found myself in Provo, Utah. I'm not a frequent visitor to Utah's second-largest major university city. I've never lived in Provo, or even Utah County. I'm not familiar with much of the city, but I have found myself on Center Street many times.

There's several writing conferences held at the convention center on Center Street. When I go to the conferences, I've checked out stores along the street. I've attended work meetings in an office building on Center Street and we often break for lunch, so I visit businesses along the street at those meetings.

Center Street is varied and diverse--a photographer's dream.

Today, we drove east in the morning and west in the afternoon. I was a passenger in a moving vehicle and I snapped a couple of pictures of what I saw. There's SO much more I could have captured had I been walking or had I been quicker with the shutter (even though there's no shutter on an iPhone...). 

In short, I spotted a temple, a Ferrari, and a giant chicken.

I also spotted, but did not take a picture of the convention center, NuSkin corporate offices, the Provo Covey Center for the Arts, an abandoned gas station, a couple of bars, many many restaurants, and a mortuary. If I return to Center Street tomorrow, I'd probably see the same things, minus the Ferrari.

Provo's Center Street...so much to see.

Man--End Of An Era...Literally

 Cackling Carlisle said it best...

"NOOOOOOOOOOO"

If you read the above letter, I imagine there's only a few things that you're thinking: 1. You remember and perhaps patronize Top Hat Video currently, or have in the past, and you're sad it's closing. 2. You've never heard of Top Hat Video and you're sad it's closing. 3. You had no idea ANY video stores still existed.

Top Hat Video is in Davis County, Utah, and has been there for four decades. I lived a few towns north of the store and only visited when I hung out with my Bountiful friends and we wanted to rent a video (or three...) for the night. No, I was not a frequent visitor and punch past customer like Cackling Carlisle, but many of my friends and family who lived closer remembered the store as more than just a place to rent a movie (or three...).

It was a gathering place, a location where almost endless possibilities for entertainment could be found just beyond the front door, unless, of course, others got to the movie you wanted to see first. The nearly unlimited potential was so much fun, just remembering the options found in video stores brings back wonderful memories.

It is a monument to human perseverance that the store lasted this long. I can't imagine the costs involved--keeping an updated inventory when everyone can simply download or stream more films than the store could possibly own. The cost of labor and rent, or building maintenance if they own the store...overcoming all these things must have been a herculean effort just to keep their doors open. I wonder even if they had enough customers (which they have had for all these years...), how long they would remain.

Since we no longer live only minutes away from the video store, we'll most likely never visit the store before it closes. Then again, I lived next to the store for decades and never went in after my high school and college days.

Top Hat Video will disappear into the memories of those who attended, yet another institution geezers will talk about when they reunite and shoot the bull. It is literally the end of an era. It's sad, and I mourn with Mr. Carlisle and others. Thanks, Top Hat for fighting the good fight for so long.

Never Not A Good Time...To Read "Haunted Yuletide"

 Earlier today, I was doing some web surfing when I came across an Instagram post. It was from a fellow author doing a little self-promotion. All authors know, there's nothing wrong with that. Then I remembered, I have a story in that book.

There's never not a good time to read Haunted Yuletide.

Anthologies are interesting. A few writers can get together, come up with a topic, send out request for submissions, and the stories come in. I've been part of those conversations, at symposiums, at comic cons, at literary conferences. "You know what would be great?" one of us would ask. "We should do an anthology about such and such."

"Yeah," another author always chimes in. "That sounds like a great idea!" Many times, the idea dies there, but every once in a while, it has legs and becomes an actual book that people can read, put on their nightstands and ignore, or use as a social media self-promotion topic (which is exactly what I'm doing...).

My story, All Through The House, is, I believe, the last story I had published. It came out almost two years ago. I have been derelict in my writing duties. For an author, that's unacceptable. I need to do better.

But, forget all that--I think you should pick up our little collection. You can find/buy it by clicking: HERE. Since it's a haunted anthology, it's perfect for Halloween, Christmas, and every day in between. Buy it, tell your friends to buy it, and read the crap out of it. If you like spookiness and Christmas, well...like I said... 

There's never not a good time to read Haunted Yuletide.

Give Thanks...Our Son's Wedding Anniversary Present To Us

When our artist son told us he made a work of art for my wife and my 30th wedding anniversary, he showed us the finished product on a screen. He ordered a print and it arrived last week. On the computer, we were able to zoom in and notice the incredible detail to the painting. Seeing the finished product, brought our appreciation to a whole new level.

I posted a picture of the artwork on social media and told people if they zoomed in, it would blow them away as it did us. I was right--so many people commented on just how awesome it was. Here are some facts about the art:

Each circle represents a member of our family. Six circles - six people. All the circles are connected by two wedding rings. My circle is right of the rings (looking at the picture), my wife's is left. Moving left to right, my daughter's circle is top left, the creator's circle is next. Below left is our oldest child's circle, followed our youngest son's circle.

What my artist son did was fill each circle with items unique to each person. For example, in my circle, there's a Danish flag, a sunset (not a pokeball...) because I love taking pictures of sunsets. There's also a "U" because it's my favorite sports team. There's also ice cream cones because, well...I love ice cream.

The artist son put into his circle many skulls--his online presents is "Skeleton Gadget."

My daughter's circle has a pair of ballroom dancers and an exploding salsa bottle.

The circles are full of so many things, it would take me all day to list them all. It's such an amazing personal gift, we were all overwhelmed at the love found in his artwork.

For our 30th anniversary, my wife and I went out to eat at a local restaurant...no big trips, no huge gifts. But, I'd take the present from my son over any trip or gift we could have given each other...it's simply stunning. Thank you, son. It's perfect.

A New Sprout...Fascinating

 Last month, I noticed a bud sprouting from one of our plants. Just a little thing. We've watched it for weeks and that little sprout is turning into something big.

We've had this plant in our care since July, 2007. It was given to us when my mother passed away. Somehow, we've kept it alive all those years. I'm sure there are many that can identify the plant, and in the past I've looked it up, too, but I can't remember what type of plant it is. We don't care--we love it.

Funny thing about plants, you give them soil, light, and water, and they grow. We've watched the branches rise into the air over the years, but I don't think we've been around to see a new branch be born. It's been fascinating.

When I first saw the sprout, I thought it would be small, something like the smallest existing branch, but it appears it's going to be big, The base of the new shoot is already as wide as the branch from which it is springing.

Thankfully, we've been able to keep it alive and we hope to continue this for years to come. I'm excited to see how it will turn out.

I'm Not So Much A "Selfie" Guy...

 I'm not so much a selfie guy. It's not that I dislike selfies, per se, but my mind does not go to "I'll take a selfie" when I'm in a situation where many do think, "I'll take a selfie." Then they do.

A few weeks ago, I ran into several friends at FanX, Salt Lake's own comics convention. Thankfully, one of the friends is a selfie person so she snapped a picture of all that were gathered.

I'm glad she did.

This particular selfie brings me a lot of joy. These are theater friends. I've been in shows with them, been cast in shows by them, and spent many many hours together. When you do a show with a person, you share experiences, share art that's relayed to an audience. There's a bond that exists and grows stronger the more shows you do. It's hard to explain fully.

The picture reminds me of those times, the long rehearsals, tech weeks, opening nights, the run, then closing nights.

Like I said, I'm not a selfie guy. Maybe I should try to be. The pictures bring back some wonderful memories.

Just A Little...Inspiration

 Inspiration...

It comes in many forms. The problem for me is not "not enough inspiration," but too much.

I keep thinking of wonderful writing projects. I'm sure my wife is sick of hearing about each new book or story I want to write. I'll tell her the gist of what I'm thinking about and she nods and usually gives me great feedback on what I told her.

Then, many times, I'll even start the story.

Then, many times, it goes nowhere.

Since it's Halloween time, my thoughts on new projects automatically go to the spooky, the scary, the fun. I want to write a series of stories, short stories that focus on one person...sort of a journal of experiences that happen to this one person. This type of project comes with some unique challenges. I've got some time off at the end of the month. It's a good time to jump right in.

Yes, inspiration can be found almost anywhere. Many times, that's my problem.

I've Known (Of...) This Bus For Decades

 I've got a side gig. I work weekend evenings at our local amusement park, Lagoon. Perhaps you've heard of it. Deep inside the park, among the rides and terraces and people having fun, you'll find a Volkswagen bus. It sits next to the water park and one of their smaller roller coasters.

And it's beautiful.

I've known of this particular bus for decades. Not that I'm stalking it, mind you. It's just, when you see a classic VW over and over, you pay attention...at least, I do.

The first time I saw this bus was at the park. Years ago there was a show at the park that included the bus. It pulled up and singers/dancers exited and put on a show. I think that's how the show started. If anyone remembers that particular show and I'm incorrect, I apologize...it's been a long time.

Because I lived in the same town as the amusement park, I drove by the park several times a week. The park owns fields that surround the property, you know, for future expansion. They parked that bus in the field and that's where it sat, sat for years. I kept wondering if they would sell it to me--I had no idea if it even ran. I never talk to the park or pursued it in any way because I didn't have the money to buy it. Still, it was a fun fantasy.

Then, the park decided to put the bus near the entrance of their newest coaster (this was years ago...). I knew then, my opportunity to own the classic German-made vehicle was officially over. It was now once again part of the park's attractions. Last weekend I carpooled with my daughter who also has a side gig at Lagoon. Her call time was earlier than mine, so I decided to walk around the park and let the memories come back to me.

That's when I came upon the bus. I just had to snap a picture or two. Yes, the fantasy of somehow obtaining the bus from the park is long over. But, I can still admire it from afar.

Recalling A Memory From Many Years Ago...

 Social media gets many well-deserved knocks. It can be mean, petty, abusive, slanderous, and at times a terrible place to visit.

Then again, it can bring back wonderful--although bittersweet--memories. This week, for me, it did just that. Back in 2015 I snapped a couple of pictures of Amber, a friend and co-worker. She was ecstatic because she filled in for one of her favorite things--the Hackenslash show. I took those pictures seven years ago today.

Six years ago Sunday, she posted the picture I took on my Facebook timeline. 

Amber passed away December 7 of last year. The memory that showed up this week on my timeline reminded me of the person she was, which brought back memories of her passing, the comments from friends and family at her funeral.

Amber was one of the first people I met after returning to work for Lagoon after an eleven year absence. Hackenslash was something she loved and I hope to always remember how happy she was being filling in. Even though you can't see her face in my photo, we both knew what it meant. Glad I was there to capture the moment. Glad it meant so much to her she reminded me of it a year later...

Glad social media has some good points, too.

The First Annual Columbus Day Cook-Out...I Call It A Success

 I was one of the few workers in the country that had the day off. I don't know if there was a time when most Americans were given Columbus Day off, but now, there's not many of us...mostly government workers.

We took advantage of the day to run some errands, finish some projects around the house that needed doing, and other odds and ends. As the afternoon drew to a close, we decided to have a cook-out. We haven't fired up the fire pit in months. My wife agreed the idea had merit so we went to the store, bought some supplies, came home, and got cooking.

It took a while to get everything ready. Fire started and built--check. tiki torches set up and lit--check. Food and condiments prepared--check.

As the fire built, I sat and just watched the fire. I've missed having a fire in the pit, as you can see the weeds have had their way. We brought out the pre-cooked hot dogs, warmed them up with flame and coals, then chowed down. As we sat around the fire eating and enjoying dusk, we made the decision to make our Columbus Day Cook-Out an annual event, weather-permitting.

This particular holiday had has a tough time of late, warranted or not. As I sat in our backyard watching the dog run around, I thought about how things work out. Would I be sitting in my yard had Columbus not did what he did? That's the thing about history--it can't be changed so it can be endlessly argued of its impact. All I know is, I had the day off, we had a wonderful time tonight, and I'm proclaiming the First Annual Columbus Day Cook-Out a success.

See you next year.

Give Thanks...Happy Anniversary, Kids!

 It's hard to believe two years have passed to the day since our oldest and his fiancee became husband and wife. A lot has happened in twenty-four months, more for them I imagine than the rest of us. They married on a beautiful Autumn day in Northern Utah, and later than night, threw a big party where friends and family danced and celebrated.

I'm grateful to have been a part of their wedding. I'm grateful the kids (they aren't really "kids" anymore...) chose to commit to each other and are continuing to build a life together. My wife and I celebrated our 30th wedding anniversary last month. I pray my son and his beautiful bride can experience that same milestone one day.

Happy 2nd anniversary, kids! Here's to many many many more.

The Good Ol' 999...

 I have a copy of a family photo from either the Nineteenth Century or the Twentieth Century. It's a photo of my mother's grandfather, a man who worked as a train engineer in Ogden oh those many years ago.

The photo is interesting because he's sitting atop a miniature steam engine, The 999. Today, I arrived at Lagoon early and went for a discovery walk. The walk took me to Pioneer village, specifically to the Train Museum. There, under glass, is the very steam engine my great-grandfather worked on.

The good ol' 999.

There were other people meandering in the museum and I wanted to shout, "Hey--my great-grandfather worked on this very thing over one-hundred years ago." Maybe they would be interested, but most likely they would think me some sort of lunatic attention-seeking weirdo bragging about my ancestry.

Since my relative worked on the machine, I wonder how many other hundreds--perhaps thousands--of hands have worked the gears, the bolts, the boiler, the many many parts. I wonder how many other people could burst into the museum and say the same thing I did.

The little steam engine has existed before many of the trees in the valley were planted. It existed before most of the homes were built, the roads paved, the gardens planted, the children, grown. Yet, it survives and is not no longer used to transport excited children and adults alike. No, it's served its purpose...

Just like my great-grandfather's job of making it go.

I found that interesting today while on a walk through history.

I'm All For Inflatable Decorations...But 20 Footers Might be A Bit Much

 My son was looking to buy an office chair. We tired some furniture stores, and ended up in a store that carries pretty much everything. It's called At Home. 

The first thing we noticed when we walked in the door was an inflatable pumpkin display for Halloween, four pumpkins stacked on top of each other that literally reached the ceiling of the store. The sign said it was twenty feet tall.

I'm all for decorations, but...

That's a bit much.

I understand for many of you, not only is it not a bit much, but it's not enough. Personally, I think it's great that someone is providing the customer who wants the biggest of all things something to buy (and at $188 I think it's a bargain...). Would I like that huge thing towering above our house in our yard? Of course! Did we buy it? Of course not. Where we live, no one would see it rising so high into the air--the wind would be constantly knocking it over.

We moved through the store and came across the Christmas inflatables. They had a snowman who was also twenty feet tall, so tall it looks like he's actually holding up the ceiling. He was a little pricier ($199...). Same size, same problem with wind for us.

Maybe one day we'll break down and purchase one of these towering decoration.

Today was not that day.

Two And A Half Decades With One Employer...To The Day

 The e-mail from my boss's boss reminded me that today marks my work anniversary. I began working for my employer October 6th, 1997.

Twenty-five years.

With the same employer.

The e-mail thanked me for my service--it was a nice gesture,  sending the e-mail was not required or anything like that. That's what makes it nice. We also had a zoom call staff meeting with my team this morning. The first item on the agenda...acknowledging the same thing as was on the e-mail.

It's strange, passing a milestone like this. It's something you think about from time to time, something you recall when a co-worker or acquaintance asks how long you've been at the company. It's also rare for a person to remain so long with the same employer. Not like my father's days. 

On a day like today, you also think about all the people you worked with, some still there, others retired or moved on to other employers, some no longer with us on this earth. I remember taking buses and trains to and from the office, working in different locations with different co-workers and supervisors, never having an office but always parking my stuff in a cubicle (once having two people working in the same small cubicle...). I remember the deadlines, the new projects, the office politics, the head games, the joys, the frustrations, the same ol' same ol' and getting up and going back each week.

Work was once a different place for me. I had friends--good friends. We used to do things socially with them and their families. It was so long ago. For a year before covid, I worked at home, no daily interaction with co-workers other than electronic. I sometimes miss those days...I certainly miss those friends. We've gone our separate ways, one (at least that I know of...) has died.

Now that twenty-five has passed, twenty-five years to the day. Time to stop thinking about twenty-five and consider another number, a higher number, some date in the future. If things continue as they have for me for much of the past five years, I'll be getting up and going to work week after week until the day I won't. I'm grateful I've been able to keep the job(s) I've had. So far, all things considered, it's been a pretty good ride.

Son's Big News...Well Done!

I'm going to crow about my son for a bit. I do this occasionally, brag about my kids. Probably not as much as I should, but bragging about your kids gets lost in the social media universe quite easily. It's probably the second-most popular thing on the internet, just behind cat videos.

This past week my son received some amazing news. he and another individual won first place in a MoonJam video game contest. My son was the artist, the other the programmer. Together they spent several days working their tails off and they won. The first prize was a sizable amount of money--not life-changing, but I would not turn it down.

My son was all smiles for several days afterward.

As a father, you worry about your kids, at least, I do. I hope they find a vocation where they can support themselves and possibly a family of their own. I'm sure I'm not the only one who, if their children say they want to work in the video game industry, cringe a little bit. Yes, there is money to be made, but with billions of young men who would also like to make money working with (i.e. playing...) video games, competition is tough.

I'm not saying my son is going to do this as a full-time job. He understands the logistics, the realities of the industry, but it is fun for him to enter a contest, work like the devil, and be rewarded for his hard work.

Life is at times really great and at times really not-so-great...the whole "opposition in all things" stuff going on. For a few days my son was experiencing one of those 'really great times. As a parent, I love that. 

The Cost Of Doing Take-Out...

 Two weeks ago I found myself in downtown Salt Lake City. I also found myself in need of food. About two blocks away was a hamburger joint that I really like. I thought I might as well get lunch there because I'm not in SLC very much anymore.

I arrived at the restaurant, took out my wallet, glanced at the menu on the wall...

And my jaw hit the floor.

Now, I understand millions of people pay a lot more for stuff than I do. Because of where I live the cost of living is relatively low. Years ago I remember a co-worker went to New York City. We asked about his trip after he returned and he told us what a great experience it was...except for the food prices, especially in restaurants. He said it cost around $20 for lunch for each person. That surprised me, but I understood that living in one of the biggest cities in the world would cost more than it did in Utah. That was almost two decades ago.

When we moved from a suburb of Salt Lake City a few years back, we moved into a bubble. Yes, all things cost more than they used to, but I can't imagine going into a local eatery for a burger and being asked to pay $8.29 plus tax.

We all know inflation affects literally everything having to do with commerce. And we know that employers must pass on the rising costs of food and labor, rent and insurance in order to stay in business. I guess I suffered culture shock going back to a place I thought I knew.

Such is the rising cost of take-out.

Sorry Slice-O-Matic...Not For Us

 We picked it up at a yard sale for a couple of bucks. We've never owned a Slice-O-Matic before, and thought, "Why not give it a go?"

We did.

It wasn't for us.

I don't know how many of you have purchased and/or used a Slice-O-Matic before. Since we were in the "have not" category we took the chance on the food preparation device. I got it out of the box the other day to wash it and check it out.

First, the thing is interesting. It's mostly made of plastic, with a couple of metal springs and metal cutting blades. Other than that, there wasn't much there. They must be making bank making and selling these things. I wonder how it holds up if it were used a lot. My guess would be, not well. I just wanted to see how to clean it. It took a while to disassemble the thing.

Another negative.

In order to get more information about the Slice-O-Matic, I checked out YouTube. There were several videos explaining the pros (mostly...) of the wonderful slicer. They showed happy people successfully using the it and taking it apart to clean it. I also found out while watching the video we were missing one of the blades.

Not good.

In the end, we figured it was more work than it was worth, at least for us. We're not the kind of family where we're constantly slicing and dicing vegetables. For us, it's easier to find a cutting board and a knife and go to work. Too bad the Slice-O-Matic didn't work out. It looks like a great product and perhaps for someone else, it may be...

Just not us.

Give Thanks...Home Repairs

 We're approaching the time of the year when the city turns off our irrigation water. Thankfully, our little valley has had enough water to keep our plants and trees alive. Soon, winter will blow in and we will have no need for the life-given water that comes from the pipes.

Problem is, when those pipes are no longer connected and the water is not turned off.

See those muddy pipes? They were once a foot underground. But when they came disconnected (unbeknownst to us...), all the dirt above the pipes washed away exposing the problem.

When I found out the water was off, I checked the box and found a good Samaritan had turned off our water. I also saw all the ground surrounding both our box and my next-door neighbor's was affected. At the time I did not see the disconnected pipes. I thought the problem was somewhere else and I dreaded the thought of fixing it.

We hired a professional to put in our system last year. He did a great job. I've worked on sprinkler systems before, but not the main lines. I'm good at fixing a sprinkler head--minor stuff like that. The main line...nope. When I investigated a second time, I noticed that since all the dirt had been washed away, I spotted the problem right away. 

Long story short, I picked up some supplies at the hardware store, connected the pipes and locked them in place. We turned the water back on and watered the very thirsty plants and trees. I'm grateful things worked out the way they did. I'm glad we didn't have to pay someone to come out and fix it. I find home repairs sort of an interesting topic. Even though I HATE it when things break, I realize I gain experience when I'm able to fix them. Still, I hope I never have to "learn about" some of those nasty indoor plumbing situations. Of course (as always...) time will tell.

Missed One Of My Favorite Programs...The Primary Program

 A week ago, our congregation turned the program over to the children. The children's organization within the church is called Primary. So, last Sunday was the Primary Program. 

It's one of my favorite programs of the year.

Too bad I missed it.

Because of a Halloween gig I'm currently involved in, I am missing church, even though I get to watch part of the broadcast from home. I'll be able to go back after October. They usually do the Primary Program in the fall...just my luck.

So, what is a Primary Program?

Basically, the children in the congregation sing and give short talks--some, only a few words long. If you can't enjoy watching the most precious among us stand in front of parents, friends, and extended family, then, something's wrong.

All our children participated in Primary Programs over the years. They're all long removed from the days when they filled the choir seats and looked at us all the while we looked at them. Memories of watching our own kids came back. I remember one program looking up and seeing not my son's face, but his feet as he was inverted in his chair.

Good times.

Of course, as parents, friends, and extended family, it's fun to watch. For the adults in charge of the program, I'm sure they love it, too, and I'm sure they love having it be over for another year. It's one of the best and most spiritual meetings we have. Glad I was able to watch.