Retro #8 Missed out on Olympic Gold

My dad often told us kids things we believed without hesitation. We would re-tell these things to our friends and with a 'cross your heart and hope to die' defend these things as the gospel truth. In retrospect, I see that my father loved to pull our legs and didn't mean us any harm. Still...when I was young, they were so believable and I wanted them to be true.

In honor of the Olympics here is one of my dad's yarns:

I once was asked to compete in the Olympics in speed skating, but I had to turn down the offer because I didn't own a pair of skates.

In all honesty, I find myself doing this same thing with my kids.

Does anyone else have memories of things that you thought were real as a kid but realized when you grew up that things weren't quite as real as you imagined them?

Retro #7 We Can Rebuild Him

We were reminiscing about Sunday's of long ago and we started to talk about TV shows that we used to watch on Sunday evening. Besides Walt Disney's Magic Kingdom and Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom, The Six Million Dollar Man came to mind.

I'm still a little bit confused about the show and how we constantly pretended that we were Steve Austin with all of the incredible bionic powers. Though he could run at 60 mph, when we would pretend that we were him, we always performed our bionic feats in slow motion.

What's up with that?

Retro #6 - Light up the Sky Like a Flame

As I drove my two oldest girls to a youth dance tonight, I was reminded of a New Year's Eve of long ago. When I was about 9 years old our Stake (Church Organization) held a New Year's Eve dance. Towards the end of the dance, as it was nearing midnight, the live band held a dance off. The song of choice was 'Bad, Bad LeRoy Brown', that old get down and boogy song of the 70's. Well, I pulled out all of the stops and busted a few of my best moves. Sure enough when it was time to announce the winner, I just happened to rise to the top. I think that the angel flights that I was wearing gave me extra style points.

The prize for winning was to be the first in line for refreshments. That was when it struck me, that this was Saturday night and the next day was fast Sunday (a day in our church where we refrain from eating two meals and donate the money that we would have spent on those meals to those in need). I had started my fast, but everyone was waiting for me to load up on goodies and start chowing down. All eyes were on me and I felt a tremendous amount of pressure. I panicked and I grabbed a big sugar cookie and took a bite and then ran out into the hall where I promptly dumped the incriminating evidence in a garbage can.

I remember feeling very guilty for a while. After that, I have been very hesitant to dance like I was the one who inspired the movie 'Fame'. Still, I always wondered if I could have become a 'Solid Gold' dancer.

Retro #4 - It Will Take More Than That to Lose Me

This is the time of year that most families are taking 'family vacations', and with any luck, I may eventually convince my family to go on one. This reminds me of a day when family trips were a little more death defying: vehicle breakdowns in the middle of nowhere, sleeping in a beat up old tent in the middle of a hurricane, feeding bears as if they were a member of your family, etc. We could really relate to the Brady Bunch on their outings to the Grand Canyon and Hawaii because these were real life situations experienced by us all, including the tiki idols and Navajo boys. Now,it seems like the biggest dilemma that we face is who gets the bed closest to the bathroom and trying to balance out the tv time with the pool time.

Well, I am reminded of one particular life and death type vacation when I was 9-years old. My family took a trip to San Fransisco in the 'old Travelall'. Oh, of course we had our share of broken down vehicles and botchalistic sun baked potato salad, but what I'm reminded most of, is that I got lost twice on this trip. Yes, you heard me right...not once but twice. This seems too much of a coincidence. Could there actually have been a plot to take yours truly out of the picture?

The first time occurred in Palo Alto, California. We were staying at the home of some friends and my brother decided to take me to the local park. After playing for what seemed like a very short time, my brother decided that it was time for us to leave. He sprung this information on me right in the middle of me pumping myself to max height on a swing set. Of course, he must of known that this was an inconvenient time, so by the time that I decided to coast down to idle he was long gone and I didn't quite know for sure which direction that he had taken off in. I didn't panic and like all good boy scouts that get lost in the woods, I did the thing that comes as instinct in these situations...I wandered around aimlessly for a while. About the time that I figured that I was abandoned for good and started making a makeshift shelter out of a covered slide, I heard my mom call out my name. They had come to my rescue. But had they. It seemed like it was quite sometime before they came looking for me. Was my brother in on this alone and he just withheld this information of me being missing for as long as he could, or did this go deeper? Did something go awry in a larger plot? Was it that they realized that Palo Alto is the location of Stanford University and that my siblings, by some twist of fate, like Joseph who was sold into Egypt, would some day come crawling back to me looking for a way to get a higher education after I had become the President of the University? So, maybe possibly, they thought of a better plan.

They laid low until the Travelall broke down in Virginia City, Nevada. My dad and several of my siblings, headed down into town to look for someone to tow our vehicle. Always trying to keep everyone second guessing my moves, I decided to go with them, after they had all ready gone about a block. Everything was going great until, they noticed when I wasn't watching and hid themselves in some side alley. I spent some time looking for them. When I couldn't find them, I eventually decided that I better head back to the car. Well, they had all gotten back to the car before me, and though I had wandered around aimlessly again for sometime (is there a pattern developing here?), no one seemed to have missed me that much.

Now if any of these two incidents had occurred by themselves, I would not have thought much of it, but to have it happen twice within the span of one trip, made me mighty suspicious. From then on, I have kept a close eye on my brothers and sister.

Has anyone else had any interesting 'incidents' happen on any family trips while growing up?

Retro #3 - Bottle Rocket Wars

When I was growing up the biggest holiday of the year was July 3rd, or aka the 4th of July eve. This was the day that the annual bottle rocket wars were held. Before I go on, I must say that I in no way condone these less than intelligent actions I did as a teenager. I have long since reformed my ways. Besides, Jenny will not allow me to buy fireworks. She's afraid that I will corrupt the next generation, which is probably a valid point.

The bottle rocket war festivities began promptly at dusk. All teenagers just a few bricks shy of a load were invited to attend, that generally included everyone in town. Team captains were selected and by the flip of a coin decided which team had high ground and who had the low ground. The loser of the toss got to choose first, usually the person with the best ammo. Once teams were selected we headed on down to the Honda Trails, a strip of land on Forest Service ground next to the lake.

The weapons of choice were firecrackers, bottle rockets, fountains, jumping jacks, roman candles, and the occasional M80. For weeks prior to the event, launch weapons were built, tested and modified. They usually consisted as such things as sawed off ski poles and small diameter pipes with sights built onto the barrels. They were amazingly accurate at 150 feet.

This is typically how the battle went. A fountain was lit on the old road between the two opposing sides to signify the start of the battle. In the mean time, the teams were strategically placing people along the battlefronts with a few members doing some sneaking around the side ready for a flanking maneuver. The long range bottle rocket guns were sent off firing to keep the opposing teams lying low in their foxholes, while the roman candle brigades moved in and laid down heavy artillery from the flanks. This was a sight to behold as this totally lit up the sky as fireball after fireball was launched down on those brave enough to remain in their foxholes. Once the enemy was sufficiently shell shocked, a lone man would run up to the fox hole and launch a grenade which consisted of a brick of several hundred firecrackers that would usually roust any remaining troops. The victorious side would then move into this territory and repeat the process again until the entire enemy territory was captured.

Ok, I admit, this was totally stupid, dangerous, and completely irresponsible. I am amazed that we didn't put any eyes out or burn down the town. If I saw any kids doing that today, I wouldn't wait for the cops to arrive, I would simply go and kick teenage hiney myself. But...for some reason I remember those times as some of the funnest of my life.

Retro #2 - A Knight to Remember

My old elementary/junior high school (I went k-9 all in the same school) is closing its doors after 148 years of faithful service to my little home town (the new school opens up next year in the town next door). As I was reminiscing about all of the good times that I had there, I remembered a few stories that had some serious consequences relating to a my normalcy (is that a word?) or lack thereof.

It was a cool spring day in my 5th grade year. It was a day that I looked forward to with great anticipation. I was to be one of just a few students who was going to be knighted in a coronation ceremony. You see, we had a middle age theme going on all year long, and the students, who worked hard all year long and met all of the requirements of being a honor student for the year, were recognized by being knighted. I worked my little buns off (this figure of speech stinks as you will soon find out) all year long, and I was happy to find out that I was chosen to become a knight.

Well, that morning before school started, I was playing a mean game of four square out in the school yard with some buddies when all of a sudden I felt a gigantic, rrrrrrripppp. Sure enough, I had split my pants right down the middle from waste band to the south pole. Believe me, I could sure feel the antarctic air flowing right in. I hastily made a retreat into the boys bathroom, never exposing my backside to my friends as I rushed away from them running backwards the whole time. I'm pretty sure that they didn't suspect anything. I mean most kids run around backward while suddenly leaving an intense game of four square...right?

I had to come up with a plan quick. Should I run home quickly to change. No. I would not be able to get back on time to my first class, and the tardiness would tarnish my knighthood. Should I tell a friend and maybe get some advice from them. No. They would ridicule me, scarring me for life. Should I tell a teacher. No. They would ridicule me, scarring me for life. Ok, so my mind wasn't working clearly. I was under pressure and fifth graders aren't known for their advanced problem solving skills.

Still, I thought up a fool proof plan. I would just tie my jacket around my waste and cover up that good old hole and my problem was solved. But...then I thought of a slight complication. When you get knighted you have to stand at the front of everyone and genuflect as the king/queen taps your shoulders with a sword. This meant that I was essentially going to be mooning the entire 5th grade all in one ceremonious bend over.

Panic started to set in. I eventually gained control of myself as I assured myself that I didn't get to be a knight by being an under achiever. So, I thought to myself, with the jacket tied around my waste, could anyone actually be able to see anything? So I tested the waters. I knelt down on one knee in front of the bathroom mirror and assured myself that, indeed, that the whites of my undies would not be visible because my jacket hung low enough to cover all of the essential parts. My plan was indeed 'fool proof'.

The ceremony came. I approached the front to be tapped into the elite of the round table, and it was all but over before I realized my fatal error...the coronation took place up on a stand, high above the common masses. It was my introduction to trigonometry as the angle of their hypotnused glance was right up my asymptote.

Retro #1 - The Well

On Easter we were having an Easter Egg hunt over at my parents house. As we were helping the kids look in all of the strange places for these treasures, I saw 'the well' which brought many memories flooding back.

We had a drainage well in our side yard to help lower the water table around our house to keep the crawl space from flooding. Well, my dad had a great idea to use this well to pump water for sprinklers for the yard. He needed to dig the well deeper so he would have plenty of water storage in the well so he wouldn't pump the well dry. He employed my brothers and me to do this job. I must of been 6-7 years old at the time. He would lower us down by rope into the well and then have us dig and fill buckets that he would raise out. We would accomplish this in waist deep water, often having to dive under the water to get the bucket full. Other than it being quite cold, so we would have to trade people down the hole every so often, I remember that this was a fun job and we looked forward to it.

As I look back, I am not sure if my dad was a good salesman or if we were just a few bricks shy of a load.

The Retro Series

I've decided since Jenny is able to use all of the good 4-yr old Andrew stories for her blog, that I would drop in a few stories from my younger years growing up to fill in gaps every now and then. These stories hopefully will meet all of the stringent requirements that I hold dear, plus the statute of limitations have expired on all of them, so hopefully, no one will go to jail for retelling them, especially me. Also, my girls are always begging me to tell them stories about when I was younger. They always tell me that they don't know anything about me growing up. They are such the drama queens. Well, after a few of these spots, they will be begging me to stop.

I will call it the Retro Series.