Happ Father's Day 1988

In 1988, I spent the summer working in London. London is where I was for Father's Day that year. When my dad passed away, my mom gave me all the letters and cards I had sent him over the years that he had kept in his dresser drawer.  This is the letter I sent him that year.


Dear Dad,

This seems odd, writing to you.  But I feel the need to, and so I do.

I miss you.  Does that strike you as odd? I mean, I find it normal to miss home, and my parents - but I miss YOU. I miss sitting at the dinner table complaining together about how mom is on the phone or that dinner isn't cooked quite right.  I miss asking who is on "Johnny" tonight and making you stop changing the channels so I can see someone you've never heard of before.

I miss knowing that you are worried.  I don't know exactly what you're concerned over for me - I know you care and are concerned, but I don't have the specific thing and I miss that.

I'm really enjoying myself. I'm poor. DIRT poor. I live in a "ghetto". But it's such an experience, I wouldn't trade it.  Tomorrow I'm taking a draw on my salary (they said I could, because I just missed payday...) So I shan't be poor for long.

I've started saying "half" as though it rhymed with "cough" - I like it.

There is talk that I may be able to help open the Paris store for Joan & David - I would love that! My French is almost eight years old but it would help me live in Paris! That would be too much to ask for. But it is still just talk.

I feel so distant from you and all my family (and clean water, and clean air!) but I feel that this is most likely part of growing up and taking on my own responsibilities. I mean, I sometimes felt (as I'm sure you have) that I've never be able to actually handle life on my own.  I'm pleasantly surprised - I CAN do it!!

Anyway - HAPPY FATHER'S DAY!! I would've phone you but i heard you were out of town...

I love you dearly - and miss you terribly.

Love, Jim


For the record, I didn't go to Paris for work. I didn't live in a "ghetto". The water in London left a strange scum on the top when you made tea and when I blew my nose the pollution from the city turned my boogers black. Even after taking that draw on my pay, I was broke. I still can't really handle my own life. And I still miss my dad.

Check it out!

This is a shameless plug for my (much older) brother's new blog about music.

Gary Listens To Music

It's a personal blog about what music means (or doesn't mean) to him. Go on, give it a whirl.

My brother, the blogger

Introducing my (much older) brother Gary's travel blog:

GaryGoesSomewhere.blogspot.com

He and his family are headed to Italy. Feel free to follow if you'd like.

A Date with Deb & Fam at Disneyland

Two weeks ago, in between Kylie concerts, I met my sister and her family at Disneyland for the day. I only get up to Washington State a couple of times a year, so if they are coming close to me, I make the effort to meet them where they are. I am an expert guide at all things Disneyland.

We started our day at Disney's California Adventure.

Rob & Sam went on Grizzly Falls, Deb & I did not.

Please note my sister's fingers giving me the "bunny ears". This seems to run in my family.

Rob & I really wanted to go on the Roller Coaster "California Screamin'." My sister was very certain she was not going. My nephew Sam was in the middle. It's big. It's fast. It goes upside down.
In the end, the eternal power of peer pressure and the phrase, "Don't be a wuss" won out and we were off!

We wandered all over Disney's California Adventure. We had a "fast pass" to go on Soarin' Over California for later in the day and we wanted to stay in the same park until we accomplished that.

"It's Tough To Be A Bug" is a good show inside a cool theater, where you get to sit down.

How'd those bunny ears get in there?

And then it was time. Time for our "flight" on Soarin' Over California. We lined up and we were very excited. And by "we" I mean Sam and I. The family had already gone on the ride in the morning. I hadn't gone yet today. Sam thought it was totally cool but instead of riding on the bottom row of seats, this time he wanted to ride on the top. I told him how the last time I went on this ride with his grandfather, he wouldn't let me go on the top row of seats. We looked at his mom and said, "Please!?!" and she said, "(sigh) Okay."

There are three rows of seats. The front row goes to the top. At each of the three entrances, we said, "We want to be on the top row. Each time they sent us to the next door so we could do that. We waited our turn, went inside, we got on and we buckled up.

Each ride vehicle within consists of three rows of seats under a wing-like canopy. After guests have been safely restrained in the vehicle using standard lap belts, the canopy descends slightly and a cantilever system lifts the chairs forward and into the air with the guests' feet dangling freely. The vehicle is lifted forward so that guests look into a large, concave movie screen onto which aerial views of California are projected. The scenes were shot with an IMAX HD frame rate - 48 frames per second, twice the conventional output for regular films. Since the vehicle is moved forward toward the center of the dome, guests can only see the images projected on the screen and experience the sensation of flight. The ride structure contains about one million pounds of steel, and 37 tons are lifted during each ride cycle.

And here is a video of what the ride is like:

Now imagine as the lights go dark, the ride swiftly ascends and the music swells... that you feel a bump. A bump followed by the music being cut, and you can sense a rush of wind as the set of seats next to you return to the ground, but your seat, in the top row, does a slight "bounce" and stops.

"Please remain seated while we contact the control tower." and then the lights came on.

We were the only section stuck, and we were in the top row.

"Nobody move." said my sister.
"I'm gonna get my camera out!" said me.
"Don't. MOVE." said me sister with a forced calm.
and that's when I realized she was freaking out.

As only a mother can, she remained in a controlled calm so as to not freak her son out. Everyone else was talking and most everyone had their cell phones or cameras out. My brother-in-law began to play "Angry Birds".

I did take my camera out and discovered that my sister was keeping her eyes tightly shut.
I think this is probably how she looks when she is at the dentist.

Being the youngest and used to tormenting her, I asked her if she wanted me to tell her what was going on.
"NO." she told me tightly.
So, you don't want me to tell you how high up we are?
"NO."
You know it's an IMAX theater, right?
"NO."
Oh look, there's a man under the screen. Look!
"NO."
You want me to sing?
"NO."
You wanna play a video game?
"NO."

Finally the engineering department fixed the rise and we were let down. My sister's greatest fear was that they would announce the ride was ready and force us to go right back up. But they didn't. She then wondered if the paramedic was there was for her because she thought maybe they knew she wanted to pass out.

When we left, the staff gave each group a "fast pass" good for ANY RIDE in the either theme park that was good for your entire party. We left California Adventure, and per Sam's request, we used our group fast pass for "Thunder Mountain Railroad" (without his mom).

Disneyland has re-tooled "Star Tours" and was having a sneak peek that weekend. You know, it's better than the old one, but I kinda still missed the old one anyway.

About this point, my sister says, "Can we talk about that other ride? The one we got stuck on?"
Ok.
"How long were we up there? Half an hour?"
Uh, 5 minutes?
"No way. It was forever. At least 20."
No, 10 minutes tops. More like 7.
"Uh-uh. They had to call all those people in and they had to arrive. 15."
They have plans for stuff like that. And they have back entrances to be quick. Let's compromise and say 12.
"Okay, I'm telling everyone were stuck. In the sky. For TWELVE MINUTES."

Towards the end of the evening, we started to get tired, and tired of lines, and tired of people, but you know, you pay a billion dollars to get in, you can't just leave when you want. You have to stay all night!
So we went on the Matterhorn.
My sister: "I don't mean to belabor the point, but can we talk about that ride again?"
Me: Ok.
"So what would they have done if they ride hadn't come down? Get a ladder?"
Do you have any idea how high up we were?
"That's what I was most worried about. How would I get on the ladder."
Fist off, there isn't a ladder that tall. They would have had to use a scissor lift.
"Do they go tall enough?"
Yes, but we were over the curved screen. there was no solid floor under us.
"I'm so glad I kept my eyes closed."

As we left the Matterhorn, we were trying to decide on the "last ride" of the night.

What you need to know now, is a family legend.

Mr. Toad's wild ride consists of Mr Toad driving all over town and crashing into people and things, then being sent to court and then sentenced to jail. As he leaves for jail he winds up on the train tracks the train comes and kills him and then he goes to burn in hell. You know, standard Disney Kid stuff.

When we my sister was about 10, we went to Disneyland. We went on Mr Toad's Wild Ride. And when the "train" (which is a bight light suspended above) came at her and my dad's car, my sister screamed and hit the floor of the car, certain she was about to be killed.

We have tortured her about this ever since. Her son knows this legend as well. And so I say, What do you want to go on for the last ride of the night? And he says, "MISTER TOAD! MISTER TOAD! MISTER TOAD!"

My sister says, "Okay, have fun. I'll wait outside." And Sam says, "C'mon mom, don't be such a wuss!" Kids learn so quickly.

Moley

Toady

Ratty

Someone seems frightened...

Watch for the train at about 1:20:

THE TRAIN! THE TRAIN!

As we are finally leaving the theme park, Sam says he really wants something sweet. Oddly, my sister says ok, and he purchases the world's largest sucker. I think we all know how this is going to end up...

Sugar high, sugar low.

The family went off to their hotel and I drove home. The next day I drove to Las Vegas to see Kylie Minogue in concert. As I walked away from the family, I could hear my sister say, "Okay, about that ride earlier..."

Secret Seattle Side Trip

Two weekends ago, Lyle and I took a secret trip to Seattle. "Secret" because I didn't tell anyone about it much in advance, and I didn't write about it here for all the world to see.

I also had a hidden agenda. It's been a year since my uncle passed away. I know that grief comes in cycles and "a year" was going to be a hard weekend to go through, for me, for my family and especially for my dad. I thought I would be so clever and change the weekend from being a down and funky feeling to a fabulous and fun feeling, just by showing up in town. So we all made plans.

As the trip approached and I started to pack, I did not realize that I was "on edge". The night before we were to leave for Seattle I snapped at Lyle and he very kindly returned the favor and we stomped off in opposite directions. Then he came back and very quietly said, "I think I know what's going on. I think you are little stressed because it's been a year since your uncle passed away." Since I still had my angry face on I responded, "Well if you're so smart and know that, why don't you just give me a WIDE PATH and stay the hell OUT OF MY WAY!" I can be a joy to live with. But I did finally calm down.

We made it Seattle and I the last time I was in Seattle was in the summer. And the reason I was there was to go to Yakima in Eastern Washington to place my uncle's ashes in a cemetery. Grief, death, mourning... I was kind of a wreck.

Lyle and I had decided to treat this visit like a mini-vacation and we did manage to see friends and dine out at restaurants we wanted to. We stayed in a hotel downtown and slept in. Lyle was more relaxed than I was. I walked around while he napped. He suggested I have a glass of champagne at lunch and I obliged. It took some of the edge off.

A year of grief. It's been a hard last year. After my uncle passed away, I've had friends who have lost parents, and our little baby Dalmatian Lola last November. I would say that I am doing well. I am happy often. I make the most of my day. But in the back of my head I feel tired. I appreciate staying home with our remaining dog Cooper and just being quiet. So unlike me. But then that is also a part of grief.

On Saturday night the whole family descended on my brother Gary's house and we had one of those consummate family nights where everyone was too loud, everything was hilarious, and stories were shared and created.

The next morning we all went to breakfast and were surprised to find my cousins who were in the middle of moving to Seattle had arrived two days early. They said when they heard we were all going to be in the same place at once the had to be there too. They drove 26 hours non-stop to make it to breakfast Sunday morning.

In the end my clever plan worked. I still had to move through the grief that demanded my attention, but we turned what could have been a maudlin anniversary into a joyful memory. When my uncle was sick he would say over and over again, "Be good to your family. Everything else comes and goes, but in the end family is all you got." Through a clever plan, once again, he brought us all together again.

Everyone should have an Uncle Ed

This is what we wrote for my Uncle Ed's funeral service. It was a collaborative effort from all the nieces and nephews who were gathered around my parents dining room table.

Uncle Ed Memories from the people who called him Uncle - or as he would have called us, a bunch of "hahn-yacks".

Because he never married or had his own children, we all became his children. While our parents were boring responsible adults, Uncle Ed always had time for us.

When he was younger Uncle Ed was fun. He had a camper. He had a boat. He had the outdoor gene. He loved to hunt and fish and go camping. As a kid, nothing was more exciting than getting to sleep in the camper… in the driveway.

For a couple of summers, when Barb and Ted went on their summer vacation, they took Gary to stay in Yakima. How do you entertain a 12 year old boy in the summer in Yakima? If you were Ed the answer would be, go to the auto supply store, visit other Aunts and Uncles, go fishing and hang out with retired friends. As a kid, it was fun to be included with the adults.

It showed a point that Uncle Ed wanted to make. He used to say, "If you want to learn something, go to where the old people hang out. Ask them a question, then shut up and listen."

Uncle Ed was a window into our parents that we didn’t have. He told tales on them that they would shout and tell him to stop telling. He was willing to pull back the curtain of perfection that our parents hung up and reveal all the rotten things they did as kids. They were human once, and we really loved knowing they weren’t so perfect after all.

Gary remembers once when Ed was over visiting from Yakima. He was upstairs in his room and all of a sudden he heard Ed and Ted laughing hysterically. They were watching the "Odd Couple" on TV and laughing at the scene where Oscar hit Felix with the newspaper. Karen’s Dad, Kenneth used to say that "Ted & Ed weren’t really twins, they were just born at the same time." In many ways they were the original Odd Couple.

The first wave of kids grew up and they had children of their own. A new group of nieces and nephews got their own Uncle Ed. A new group of children discovered what is was to have an adult ready to tell tales on how rotten their parents were. A new group of kids needed their own Uncle Ed.

He took his great-niece Ashley to the park and kept her entertained giving her divorced parent Karen a break. He sat with her and read her stories without Ashley discovering that due to bad eyes, Ed couldn’t actually read the story in the book. Instead of saying I can’t do that, he sat and made up stories to match the pictures in her books. His great-nephew Sam would ask, "Is Uncle Ed going to be there? Because then I‘ll have someone to play with."

You didn’t have to be born into this family to have an Uncle Ed. Marry one of us, you’re in. Get adopted, you’re in. Wander a little too close to the family, or stay a little too long, you’re in. He took an interest in what you did, and was pleased for your success. For a cranky guy, he still knew how to show you that you were loved.

Uncle Ed injured his back when he was 42. Because of the constant pain his mood understandably changed. He wasn’t able to continue working. He had to give up his camper. He couldn’t keep his boat. When Ed was sitting in the hospital looking back over his life, he told us, "I have no regrets. I’ve done everything I wanted to." Then he added, that he actually had one regret. His one regret in life was giving up his boat. Out of all the things in life someone could regret, that was his only one.

As many relatives and friends made their way in to visit him, the staff at the nursing home told Jim that Ed must have been a very special man. At first he was going to correct them and say he was just an ordinary man. But we’ve realized that even though Uncle Ed never built a town hall, donated money to a college or won an award at ceremony, being an "ordinary guy" is what made him extraordinary. He was ours and he was there for us.

Though he was getting weak, he told us over and over again, that he was so happy to have everyone come together. At the end of the day, what you have is your family. If this had to happen to him, at least we got a chance to remember how much we mattered to each other. As the end came closer, we all came together to surround him and return the love he gave so freely.

We want to extend a special thank you to the staff at Alderwood Manor for taking such great care of Uncle Ed and all the family that sat with him. It was impossible to explain to someone on the outside the unique place that Uncle Ed holds in our hearts. When the world was busy, and the adults had too much to do, at the end of the day Uncle Ed was there. He was the adult who was always available.

We’d like to thank all of you for coming. Ed always said he never had any friends. He was humble, didn’t like to draw attention to himself and he might have been pulling our leg. By the evidence here, we feel, he was mistaken.

Christmases Long Ago

Christmas seems to bring out the sentimental side of me. Who am I kidding, I am always sentimental. I have ticket stubs from every Broadway show I've seen. I have file folders of maps I carried in my pocket on trips to far away lands. I keep far too much but refuse to change my ways.

My first Christmas! (I'm in the middle)
Under my grandparents tinsel covered tree.

I have total recall of the Christmas tree and decorations at my grandmother's house. It was always a medium to small tree and always a live tree. In a bucket.

My grandparents Christmas tree always sat in front of the picture window that looked out over the driveway between grandpa Don’s chair and the desk. If I close my eyes I can feel the texture of grandpa don’s brown chair with ottoman. It probably helps that I have that photo of it in a frame in my bedroom.

Grandpa Don in his brown chair.
I think we are getting ready to take on the Osmonds.
Right behind my sister is a brown stool where the tree goes.

For some reason in my head it’s always flocked. But now that I look at that first photo I know more often it was tinsel. It had the medium C-7 bulbs in multiple colors. You know the ones that weren't meant for outside but still gave off enough heat to burn you if you got too close. I was always too close to the Christmas tree. And bubble lights. I loved those bubble lights. I think they were my favorite part of the tree. If I remember correctly, I always got in trouble for touching them.

My own bubble lights that I can touch whenever I want.

I have three ornaments from my grandparent's tree. Two birds made of two Styrofoam balls and pipe cleaners. One pink and one blue.
One Santa made from a Styrofoam ball and pipe cleaners. They are on my tree in the living room right now.


Christmas Eve was spent at my great-grandparents until it became too much for them to handle then Christmas Eve moved to my grandparents house. It was one of those "all relatives" nights where you saw all the relatives you hadn't seen since the summer when we had the big potluck at the lake. On Christmas day it would be "just family" for dinner. That meant somewhere between 15 and 25 people trying to squeeze around my grandparents table. Children got moved off to the kitchen table.

Christmas Eve at my great-grandparents house.
In front of the piano, at the bottom of the stairs.

I also still have three small Santa head mugs that my great-grandma Myra used to serve me hot chocolate in. I tied ribbon to the handle and use them as Christmas ornaments now as well.