Tiger Town...Is America

 I should clarify. This is a part of America, and when I say America, I mean the United States of America because there are millions of Americans who live north of the 49th Parallel and south of the Rio Grande River.

Many of you may know where this is, while others do not. It's a couple hours drive from where we live, but if I had to, I'd be hard-pressed to drive to this building by memory. It's a picture of Tiger Town. I'm sure you can find many "Tiger Towns" all across the country, as well as the name for the first film made for the newly-founded Disney Channel in 1983.

This particular Tiger Town is in an older part of town, smaller yards and even smaller homes. Decade's-old trees dot the landscape, many evergreens because the winters can be brutal in this part of the country. Behind the homes's front doors are newlywed couples living in their first houses, multi-generational families living together to make ends meet, and elderly citizens who have lived on the same street their entire lives...just like millions of other neighborhoods all across the country.

It's summer. Had it been fall, winter, or spring, I'd expect to see cars and trucks of various makes, models, and ages filled with high school students either arriving or departing...or playing hooky. Maybe friends would walk the grounds of Tiger Town talking about movies, music, or which students they think are cute.

It's like so many other streets, other buildings, other places where people live. As I snapped the pictures I wondered if anyone saw me taking photos of a building they know so very well, a building that's been part of their lives either for a short time, or for their entire lives.

Even though I didn't grow up in Tiger Town, I can understand the feeling the locals have for their community. Because I've felt it, too...

Just a couple of hundred miles south.

It's a cool older building full of memories...Tiger Town memories.

Those Beautiful Idaho Skies...

I've visited the neighboring state to the north more times than any other save my home state. As a child, every summer (and many times fall, winter, and spring...) my family would travel to the Gem State. It was a logical destination--both my mother and father lived most of their lives in Idaho and we had family there.

There's no way I could appreciate the state as a child--I was too young. We'd travel first in the big Buick Electra 225s that were my dad's favorites. After he passed away, we traveled in many different cars that my mom picked up here and there. As I grew up, I drove back and forth in the cars I chose, and finally, in the cars and vans my wife and I bought. As a kid, the scenery was just that--stuff to see until you reached the place you were going.

Maybe it's because I drove from Idaho Falls alone today that I looked up and noticed just how amazing the skies above the road and plains were. Then again, it could have been the sunroof that allowed me to see above the traveling car.

I was unable to check out a lot of the skies this last weekend. I spent most of the time in the gymnasium of Skyview High School on Idaho Fall's east side. I attended my daughter's last ballroom dance competition as a high school student. If you've never attended, these are the types of events where you go inside the gym in the morning, and sometimes leave long past the sun has set. Friday night, I took a break and looked up.

I'm glad I did.

It was beautiful.

I snapped a few pictures, trying to capture what I was seeing. On the building's west side, I stepped outside and saw a group of dancers taking in some fresh crisp Idaho spring air. Their colorful costumes proved a stark difference to the colors of Mother Nature. I didn't get their permission to take their pictures. I tried to make them unrecognizable. You might, if you know these dancers, recognize them. There's more than a good chance the dancers in the pictures will never see this post.

I hope when the opportunity to return to the Gem State occurs, I'll take more time to notice, not just the agrarian landscape, the long-cooled lava rocks, the sagebrush, the majestic Snake River, and the towering Teton Range, but the incredible umbrella of blue and white above.

Leaving Home...A Flash Fiction Story

She killed the engine. The already packed car sat idling for several minutes before she turned the key. The aging Toyota sputtered, then died. She thought she should say a prayer—she’d definitely need any help she could get.

Looking west out the passenger-side window she peered down a long back alleyway and a wave of nostalgia washed over her. That alley—it’s where she played hide-and-seek as a child, where she rode bikes as a tween, and where she snuck in after curfew as a teenager. The alley way knew her secrets, her dreams, her joys, her fears…it knew her.

And she was leaving the alleyway and the only life she’d ever known behind.

What if they hate me at college? she wondered. What if I don’t fit in? She was so excited when the letter came from Stanford. She screamed with excitement as shaking hands held the letter of acceptance, but now, the shy Idaho-born-and-bred girl of migrant farmers wondered if she could make the grade—literally.

I should call Mom—no, it’s time for the lunchtime rush. And, she thought, they’d said their goodbyes that morning before her mother left for work. Besides, sh remembered, she’ll be home for Thanksgiving—only three months away. Oh how she wished she could say goodbye to her father, but a drunk driver make that an impossibility.

Her dad…in all the excitement, she hadn’t even thought of him. All the preparations, the packing, getting the car ready for the trip—she had forgotten about her dad.

The girl glanced down the alleyway one more time, took a deep breath, and fired up the trusty engine. She’ll swing by the cemetery on the way out of town. After all, it’s only a few minutes out of her way.

Ducks, Dogs, Danger Signs...And Dastardly Kids

What is it about water, lots of water, that gets us humans thinking. Why do we ponder life's great mysteries when we're alone on a beach, near a raging river, or by the edge of a lake? What is it that makes us ask questions about ourselves, our families, our past, present, and/or future?

Okay, maybe not everyone does that, but I seem to find myself thinking those thoughts. I also wonder why some parents allowed their young boys chase and try to kicks geese and ducks off the grass and into the river. I wonder when I turned from a kid that chased birds to on who didn't. Probably when I was old enough to read (maybe a little later...).

And when I se huge signs by the side of the mighty Snake River, I wonder why they were even needed. I mean, the water is literally raging below. Then again, signs exist--usually--because people need them. We, as people, are pretty clueless sometimes.

As I walked along the riverside I saw many dogs, but I only took a picture of one. The dogs were better behaved than those boys. Many people I know believe dogs are smarter than people anyway, so it's not so surprising.

The birds were beautiful. The price you pay for getting close enough to take these pictures is to constantly watch where you're walking and check the underside of your shoes once you leave the area. Still worth it.

Tomorrow we'll leave the river's shore and return to a desert where a huge dead sea sits to the west and captures fresh water from the mountains then converts it, or kills it, depending on your viewpoint. I wonder if those who travel to its shores ponder the great mysteries of life. Or if parents who bring their boys to the Great Salt Lake allow them to kick at birds.

Art...And What It Shows Us

If you ever find yourself in Idaho Falls, Idaho, you need to take a stroll along the River Parkway. And if you're on the west side of the mighty Snake River, just northwest of Broadway, you should see a couple of park benches.

These aren't your everyday park benches. They're art. I suppose you could classify every park bench as a work of art, but the two that I saw were commissioned as artistic pieces, gifts from loving families in honor of those who who have passed on. 

The topic of art will most likely become a subject of discussion in the coming weeks and months. We will inevitably reduce the argument into two sides--those who love art and those who don't. It's a ridiculous assumption, but we tend to do that these days, make it a simple proposition, then beat over the head anyone who disagrees with your position.

It's a shame, really. People will create art no matter who funds it, or if it's not funded by outside sources at all. It's in our nature to create--it's why I believe in a creator, and that we, like Him, will one day have the opportunity to continue to create, just on a much larger scale. 

And so, because children who wanted to remember their parents, there are now at least two places where you can sit and watch the laws of gravity beautifully take effect, along a river's edge, in Idaho. If you ever find yourself in Idaho Falls, Idaho, you need to take a stroll along the River Parkway. For there's beauty to behold--the beauty of nature, a testament of God's love for us, and a couple of park benches, a testament a family's love for those no longer here.

Gem State Classic Show Dance Championships...

My daughter and I are currently in Idaho Falls, Idaho, attending the Gem State Show Dance Championships.

If you'll indulge me for a moment, I'm going to do a little bragging.

Okay, maybe not bragging, but at least, delivering good news. My daughter and her dance partner Paxton tied for 2nd place in their category. It was pretty cool. I videoed the dance and dared not even cheer or scream for fear of letting go of the camera. And, I was pretty nervous, too. They really did a great job and I'm proud of them both. 

I'm new to the whole "going to ballroom dance competitions" thing. The first one I ever attended was last month. I'm kind of a fan now. Watching as a parent brought back memories of when I competed in sporting events. I played little league baseball and football (yes, really, football...). I also played AYSO soccer. When I got to high school I ran track and cross country. I remember my mom going to my little league and soccer games, but not so much track and cross country. And that's okay--I was middle-of-the-road at best. Besides, she had to work being both father and mother to us three kids.

Of all our kids, we've followed our daughter's sporting exploits the most. The boys (except the youngest who currently does Karate...) and the daughter played soccer and we went to every game--we had to or they wouldn't have a ride to and from. The boys never played any other organized sports, but our daughter did gymnastics for several years. She made the decision on her own when it was time to stop. And thanks for some great friends and other fortunate circumstances, she's now doing ballroom dancing.

Now, instead of competing, I watch from the bleachers. I sit and video with all the other parents and grandparents. My stomach does summersaults as my child gets read for her routine, then I can barely breathe as they dance. I wonder what my mom thought as she watched me, this little skinny kid wear a helmet and shoulder pads and pretend to know what I was doing, or when I was stuck in left field hoping no one hit to me. Did she feel nervous? Did she worry?

Probably not. I think parents didn't take the sports as serious back then. At least, that's what I'd like to think anyway. 

I'm proud of our girl--they really did great. And one day, God willing, she'll be sitting in the stands watching her children as they do their stuff. And, God willing, my wife and I will be right there with her.