Sorry Mom...Turns Out I Like It

 Yup, looks like I'm not going to follow my mother's footsteps on this one.

Like many in my generation, you probably ate oatmeal for breakfast at one point or another. Sure, we had those sugary cereals (anyone remember Waffalos...) and even half a grapefruit now and then. I guess we ate whatever my mom put before us before we shuffled out the door and headed to school.

I don't remember how old I was, but I distinctly remember a conversation I had with my mom one morning after she placed a bowl of instant oatmeal in front of me and I dug in.

"Mom," I said somewhat casually--perhaps in a smart a-- manner. "How about you get a bowl and we can both eat oatmeal together?" Those were probably not the exact words I used, but the sentiment is the same.

Then my mother said something I've never forgotten.

"Nope--I can't stand the stuff."

I was shocked.

I followed up with why the strong reaction to my suggestion she have some oatmeal for breakfast. She then went on to tell me a story of her youth. My mom lived during the Great Depression. Though she was a child, she remembered the food her mother fed her. She said they ate oatmeal almost every day. She vowed when she grew up she'd never eat oatmeal for breakfast again. I remember thinking if I'd ever seen her eat oatmeal and I couldn't recall a single time she ate oatmeal for breakfast.

Of course, I cannot travel back in time to share the experience she had as a child growing up in Driggs Idaho in the 1930s. I'm 100% sure the food I had for breakfast this morning tasted much better than what she had. It may not have been more nutritious than what she had--I'm sure my food is worse for me than her food was for her. And if I had to eat the food she ate, I'd probably think the same thing.

Sorry mom, turns out I actually like the stuff. Then again, I'd be well served to follow my mother's footsteps more often. She's one of my greatest heroes.

Sometimes...You Just Need Some Mint Chocolate Chip Ice Cream W/Wafers

 Ever since our then governor, Jon Huntsman, Jr. issued his inspired edict that Utah State employees would be working a four-day work week, ten-hour shifts with Fridays off, I've been fortunate enough to remain on that schedule all those years.

This is a long way of saying today--since it's Thursday--is my last work day of the week, or in other words, my Friday.

So, after a long work week (and dinner and taking out the garbage...), it was time for dessert. I've found Breyer's Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream to be wonderful. Throw in a couple of vanilla wafers and you've really got something.

Ice cream has been a dessert of choice for me for as long as I can remember. When I was a child my mom used to buy the gallon tubs of cheap ice cream for me and every single day after school I would come home and have a bowl of ice cream. I ate gallons and gallons of the stuff. 

A lot has changed since those days. First, the price of ice cream has exploded, as has everything else. And, there's no way I could eat a bowl of ice cream everyday without facing serious health concerns. This didn't appear to have any health effects on me as a child. Now, different story.

Even though I can't eat ice cream every day for health (and cost...) concerns, I still love it. And I'll still continue to enjoy an occasional bowl of ice cream, especially at the end of a long work week.

Black Friday...We (Sort Of...) Did Not Participate

 The two pictures on this post were not taken today. They were taken before this week, before Black Friday. I know the whole world's change in the past couple of years, but I've to to say, I miss shopping on Black Friday.

You know what I mean. There was once a time when all stores closed on Thanksgiving and then beginning around midnight for some, 4am for others, the stores would open their doors and the hoards would charge in, back when you'd pull up in the middle of the night and there'd already be lines of people freezing their keisters off all hoping to score on the big-ticket items...TVs, and electronic items mostly.

We didn't go hog wild, as others did. We usually just went to Target...it was the closest big store to us. We'd spend a few hours and see what we could find. I remember getting a 10x Pixel Kodak digital camera for one-hundred dollars. That was a steal back then. I also remember looking at the line of shoppers waiting to check out, the line going back into the kids shoes section. So with a couple of shopping carts and us wanting to be home before noon, we casually asked the worker stationed at the jewelry counter if she could check out our stuff. There was no line and she said, "Yes." We saved several hours that blessed Black Friday.

We only went Black Friday shopping a few times. Then, came the internet and online shopping and the way we did Black Friday shopping changed. You didn't have to freeze or get up in the middle of the night--a few well-timed clicks and that prized item discounted 15 to 30% could be yours.

That's when I think stores began staying open on Thanksgiving so there was no need to camp out or do the things that we used to do. I sort of miss those days, even though they were crazy and un-Christian, and people actually died trying to get whatever it was they thought was more important than human life.

We had to run an errand today. On the way home we stopped by the Main Street Mercantile to pick up some things, and there just happened to be a Black Friday sale going on. We went in and bought some Christmas gifts. There was no long lines, no fights in the aisles, no waking up at 2am or standing outside in the cold, but it was still fun.

Look...A Horse!

 Last week I saw something out my window that, well...I had never seen before in a neighborhood in which I lived.

A horse and buggy leisurely passed by.

I saw a vehicle used for millennia as it first went up the hill. At first, I wasn't sure what it was--I had the blinds drawn. I sprang to my feet, threw up the blinds and snapped a quick picture as it almost escaped my view...the shot was not good enough for my "Pic Of The Day" have you, but interesting.

In our neighborhood anything that travels up the hill must come down, so I went back to work and waited--waited for the horse and buggy to travel down the hill. My patience paid off. This time I took a short video as it passed.

I'll bet seeing something like that was more common for my father as he grew up during the Great Depression in Montana and Idaho. He was born in 1924 and I don't know how many cars had made their way to that part of the world in that time, but I'm sure seeing someone behind the reigns of a one-horsepower vehicle was no big deal...certainly not worthy of a picture, or better yet, a blog post.

I've never seen a horse and buggy pass my house in the 55+ years I've been on this planet, and I may never see it again, but when I did see it last week, it was great.

Americana...A Little Different, But Still Out There

 We pulled up to the diner, put the van in park. We weren't there but a minute when the young girl emerged from the building and came to the driver's side window, which I lowered. I asked for recommendations and ordered a shake, just a shake. As we waited, I gazed into the the diner, at red and white benches, formica-covered tables, and chairs unused to a year.

It was a snapshot into what life used to be, the way things once were.

In that space--at those tables--people fell in love, and hearts were broken...all over greasy food and ice cream, served in a myriad of colors and flavors. Teens met friends and parents ordered food at this singular location, a place replicated all over the country, thousands and thousands of destinations, in every city, in every state.

And it's survived for decades.

I haven't spent much time outside the United States, though I did live in Europe for a few years back in the 1980s. They can build a Pizza Hut in Copenhagen, but it's not the same. You don't have a wicked big-block 1970s muscle car pulling up, reviving the engine, and having both teenagers and the adults turn their heads in admiration or disgust (but, really admiration...). It can never be the same thing.

I don't know the history of Brigham City's Peach City, but I can imagine it's similar to that of all the other places in big cities and small towns across America. Thousands upon thousands of people consuming tons and tons of food...and the memories that endure.

We weren't allowed in the building, so we joined the other auto-bound patrons waiting for our food. I know somethings will never return to what we once considered "normal," but when all this crap has settled, I hope at least the neighborhood diner can return...to what it once was.

Small-Town Treasures...The Main

 Friday, an e-mail arrived notifying those in my neighborhood that snow needed to be shoveled at our local church. 

It was our turn.

That afternoon I loaded up the snow shovel in the back of Donk, the Subaru and drove the approximately three miles to the building. When I got there, most of the snow had already been cleared. I did help out a little bit. As I stowed the shovel in the car after my light shoveling, I looked east. That's when I saw The Main Theater.

Incredible!

As I get older, I'm a sucker for old things, old cars, old buildings, things with history. You can almost see it in the cracks, the faded paint, the rust and decay. Still...beautiful. At first, I didn't know what the building was. Upon second glance, I realized it was an abandoned movie theater. Single-screen theaters are as obsolete as eight-track tape players. Before last year, theaters were still a billion-dollar industry. I imagine their future is unknown at this time.

I walked over to it and took a few pictures. According to the internet, the theater opened in 1950 and closed in 1985...a thirty-five-year run. I so wanted to go inside, but at the same time, I would have hated to see abandoned dreams in entertainment form.

I remember reading of an Oscar-winning director who grew up in the same town as me. He talked about seeing films in the old church. I knew exactly what he was talking about. Though I never saw films in that church, I did peek through the small windows through which the films he saw were shown. He talked about how watching films, how those experiences affected his life. As I drove away from The Main, I wondered what life-long memories were formed by those who passed through those doors, who sat in those chairs, who watched the illusion of motion on the large silver screen.

And now, like an old tractor or harvester that died in the field, it sits waiting for nature to reclaim what it once was. I'm falling in love with this valley, and The Main is another of the small-town treasures sealing the deal.

Deciphering An Ancient Text...

We're cleaning out the basement--have been for days. When you clean out basements, you come across a lot of things when you dig into boxes in said basement.

Boxes contain more than physical things. They contain treasures.

They contain memories.

They contain links to the past.

Tonight, we came upon a notebook buried in a box. Back when it was stowed, I'm sure we thought we ought to save it. After all, when homeschooling four kids, you never know when you'll need a notebook.

Turns out, we didn't. During Back to School sales, notebooks cost mere pennies and we bought a lot of them, but the one we put in a box in the basement was never used.

Well, that's not entirely true. It was used...

About seventy years ago.

That's when my mom jotted down some shorthand.

My mom--like most people's moms--was amazing. She helped put my dad through college working as a secretary. I knew she knew shorthand. She even showed me some of the symbols once. Of course, I thought it was interesting, but not necessary. After all, no one used shorthand anymore (and that was probably in the 1970s when I thought that...). But back in the day, it was a valued skill.

Humans are amazing. They adapt. Years ago when someone needed to transfer a message from one person to another, shorthand was used. Sure, there are faster methods today, but for the time, it worked. Just like my father's slide rule (an amazing piece of technology no longer used...) or my father's drafting equipment. Brilliant for its time.

Yes, I came across an ancient script. Had someone found this notebook in a box a few centuries from now, would they know how to decipher it?

Good question.

Who Needs A Time Machine...When Google Maps Shows You How Things Used To Be?

The other day I was messing around with Google Maps and I decided to check out our street. When I clicked on the satellite photo, I saw something I hadn't seen in many years...

I saw the way my childhood home used to look.

It was like stepping back in time.

The photos taken by the Google Map vehicle of the house my dad designed and almost lived long enough to see it fully completed looks so so different.

Oh, that yard.

I was not big on yard work, even as a kid. My mom, being alone a few short years after they moved to Farmington, had to not only raise three kids by herself, she had to take care of a 1/2 acre yard that, for many years, butted up against the mountain. You ever try to weed a mountain? It ain't easy. My mom landscaped it so the yard would required a minimal amount of work to keep it respectable. 

The main thing I remember (and the first thing I saw when clicking the Street View...) were the pfitzers. Those things were an entire ecosystem--or several ecosystems--all by themselves. They were thick. We planted them to hold the hill back in the 1970s, and they did a terrific job. They were also famous for eating things...frisbees, baseballs, Hot Wheels. Like goats, the pfitzers would eat anything.

The owners who bought the house after my mom passed ripped out the pfitzers--thank goodness. They also took out the mini trees that resembled green sentinels keeping watch over the Taylor fortress.

If you drove down our dead-end street now, you'd see a whole new building on the north side. Gone are the cement steps and that driveway--talk about eating things. That driveway ate show shovels. Shoveling that driveway was more than a chore. It was a battle of man (us kids...) vs nature (snow...) vs the immovable object (that uneven driveway...). Eventually, the kids won, which meant the car made it safely up the hill, but the wars were epic.

Living across the street from the home your parents sacrificed so much to build and upkeep can be difficult...the memories, the conversations and hugs that can no longer take place. But, seeing it again, after all these years, when my mom lived there. Well, that kicks it into the bittersweet category. 

No, sometimes you don't need a time machine--just access to Google Maps when they haven't updated the picture for fifteen years or so will do.

Oh, Music U.S.A...Where Have You Gone?

I walked to a spot on the newly-opened road and snapped a single picture. Though not exact, I figured I was standing where the stage used to be, a stage that stood for more than thirty years, a stage that was more than a place for people to perform, a stage where friendships and memories were made.

It's where Music U.S.A. once was.

As a teenager, I began working at Lagoon Amusement Park. As a pre-teenager, I had visited the park almost every day it was opened for probably ten years. Back then, you could buy a family swimming pass for something like $35. And, Lagoon let all Farmington residents into the park for free. So, when the huge pool was opened for the summer, we were there, hitting the huge (and incredibly dangerous...) metal slide, and throwing ourselves off the diving boards.

That pool...it was a wonderful place, and I miss it, just like I miss hanging out with my friends, riding bikes along the uneven sidewalks, and hiking on the mountain. 

And I miss the days of Music U.S.A. I was fortunate enough to work as a tech for several seasons of the show. We got to know the performers, the musicians, the other techs. We spent time together, and since I was a teenager and really had no real responsibilities, I had a lot of disposable income. We would go out to eat after almost every show, tech, performers, musicians. Some of my most cherished memories growing up happened with those people.

The show shut down years ago. The stage fell into disrepair--the whole thing would need to be re-built if they ever decided to do a show there again. The park decided to go a different direction--restaurants, German restaurants. It's call the Lagoon Biergarten and it's amazing! The food is good and the buildings are beautiful. 

Tonight, I went to a rehearsal. As we learned and went over blocking for a scene, an actor not in that particular scene practiced dance moves in a corner of the room. I've known her for almost ten years. As she danced, I watched, and my mind returned to that Music U.S.A. stage. Why? Because the dancer is a daughter of a friend of mine, a performer who I could watch again and again on that stage. In fact, I did watch him over and over for several years. One of his solos--I remember it vividly because he was so good--was from Pippin. He told us all that he had magic to do. And when he was on the stage by himself, that's what he had, magic, and he left us way too soon.

The stage is gone, replaced by food, beer (imported and domestic...), and incredible details. But the magic...if you stand back and look around, you can almost hear the works, feel Mark's bass, Greg's drums, and Mike's keyboards. But all eyes were on Danny. He had magic for us, just for us.

Check Out The "Space Jam" Movie Website...A Blast From The Past

I was listening to a podcast last week when one of the presenters said an off-hand comment about a website that has not changed since it went live. That's not so unusual, except this website was launched in 1996, over twenty years ago.

It's hard to remember what the internet looked like in 1996, but for those of us that were using the internet back then in its infancy (at least, when it first became an option for the general public...), please go to this website and check it out. It'll all come flooding back. It's the website for the movie, Space Jam. You can access the site: HERE.

I never actually saw the movie, Space Jam. When it came out, our first sone was only one, too young to want to watch it. The film then became one of thousands that just sort of blended together in shows we never watched. Since I wasn't much interested in the film, I never thought about going to the film's website. And I've not had the desire to check it out between 1996 and today, until I heard that it hasn't changed.

I'm sure that when it came out, the website was modern, up-to-date. It had all the information that would satisfy fans of the show. I mean, you could get information on the athletes, the actors, the teams--it was a cornucopia of knowledge, a real date feast just waiting to be eaten.

After checking out the ancient (by electronic standards...) site, I wondered why they never touched it, why they didn't either update it or take it down. Maybe they thought it was a fitting tribute to the show, or maybe they just forgot about it. Apparently, Space Jam 2 is on it's way. This will no doubt generate interest in the original film. They could make changes to the Space Jam website, but I hope they don't. I hope they keep it just the way it is. That way, if I ever wonder what the internet looked like back in the mid-1990s, with one click I can find out. And if you check it out by accessing the above link, you'll find out too.

Before The Internet...There Were...Mountains

It's interesting living next door to where I grew up, watching my children grow and develop decades after I did...I'm reminded of my childhood almost every day. And what did we do as kids?

We hiked the mountain.

I've written about where we live before. I've written about the mountain on which we live. Tonight, just before dusk, I grabbed my cameras and headed up the hill. Soon, we're going to get some neighbors. I hiked up to one of the lots and looked around.

I remember my childhood, but when I remember it, I don't think I remember it quite the way it happened. For instance, I remember hiking on the hill, alone, with friends, or with my dog. I remember spending a lot of time on that hill, but in reality, I know I spent a lot more time in front of a TV set. I watched a lot of TV as a kid.

My mind wandered as I did. Thinking of the time I spent watching TV made me think about what kids do nowadays. Kids (and myself as well...) are on the internet. When my kids were younger they went up the hill from time to time, but not anymore. Do I wish they spent more time outdoors. Sure, but also they're preparing for the world in which they'll live. 

But what of the mountains? It occurred to me on my descent that the mountains were there for me, even when I didn't need them. They existed long before I--or anyone else--ever got here, and they'll be here long after we're all gone. And even though the lighting wasn't ideal for panoramic shots, tonight it was beautiful up there. I walked where I used to run, saw sights I used to--and still do--take fore granted. To me, the rocks, the sagebrush, the views meant something different, something deeper. 

Maybe I'm growing up after all.