Vacations (6)

The Fourth of July - in Provo, Utah.

Nearly every summer we went on vacation, we spent July 4th in Utah. When I was younger we would stay at Grandma Smith's and wake up to the sound of cannon fire. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! (I think they had a cannon situated on each side of town, North, East, South, and West, and they took turns firing to welcome Independence Day.

In the late morning, there would be a parade down one of the main streets. Just before the start of the parade, a group of jets would fly over the parade route and get our hearts pumping. Then the parade would start. These parades were good sized as they lasted about an hour - and hour and a half. There were numerous large floats, bands, etc. My favorite times of going to the parade was when I was a teenager, and my cousin Lee Dawn and I would walk along parade route displaying our latest fashion and attitude.

Speaking of Parades

One year, some of my cousins came to Pinehurst for either July 4th or Pinehurst Days. We had a parade that year that started at the Creek and came past our house on Main St. We set up lawn chairs, and waited for the parade to begin. Our parades usually started with the sirens of the local fire department or police, followed by the color guard. We heard the sirens and looked up the street. "Here comes the parade!" we yelled to our parents, who were waiting inside. "Here it comes!"

Our parents came out to the lawn and sat comfortably awaiting their front row view of Pinehurst's parade. I think we had one float that year. . .and my Aunt D. could see the end from the beginning. She was astounded. The entire parade was only 1 block long. We could literally see the end of the parade from the beginning, and she started laughing. She thought it was the funniest thing she had ever seen. People were sitting out, waiting for a 1-block long parade. She has never let us hear the end of it. "You call that a parade?" She would taunt us. Then she would tell anyone who would listen about all the hoopla surrounding our 5-minute, one float parade.

Back to Provo's 4th of July celebration

Along with the parade, Provo also hosted a very large carnival for Independence Day. We would go and spend a lot of money on rides, toys, treats, and a great time. It was there I first rode an elephant, went on a mini-ferris wheel with enclosed baskets to sit in, one a prize at a booth, and ate cotton candy. I loved the carnival.

In the evening, My cousins and I would sit on either Grandma Smith's porch, Aunt H's porch (one block closer), eat watermelon, and wait for the 4th of July Fireworks to be set off at the BYU campus. It was the highlight of our vacation in Utah. When we were teens, we'd walk to the fence just outside the area where they were shooting them off. It was my first look at fireworks from underneath, where they were literally falling on us.

Vacations (5)

Ruth Leone Taylor Hoover Boren Smith family reunion

When we were kids, my closest cousins and I played in Grandma Smith's backyard. See Vacations (1). In addition to hanging out at Grandma's we also had a family reunion every year at Grandma Smith's house. Usually all of our Aunts, Uncles, and cousins would be there. Since Grandma had had 8 children, and many of them had at least 5 kids of their own - the reunion gatherings were huge. Sometimes Grandpa Smith's sons and families joined us, and that made even more fun.

Water Fight

The defining event of the reunion was usually a huge water fight among all the family members. I don't remember exactly who started them, or how they became a tradition, but once the fight started it was every man, woman, and child for him or herself. Sometimes people would scoop water from the little canal running along side Grandma's place, others would grab the hoses around the house, and some even used pitchers, bowls and buckets. The main objective was to see how long you could hold out by not getting wet.

Some people would sneak around to the back of the house and surprise and unsuspecting relative who was focused on avoiding those in the front of the house. Sometimes the soak-er would tip-toe up behind someone on the porch and pour an entire receptacle full of icy water on a unsuspecting Aunt or Uncle. Sometimes two or three wet relatives would gang up on a dry one and hold them down while another drenched them.

As kids, it was fun to watch the adults blast each other. . .but eventually we all became a part of the fun. It was against the rules to hide in Grandma's house - so unless you ran into the street, there was no place you could go to evade the inevitable soaking.

Handcuffed

When I was still fairly young, my Uncle J. was on the Las Vegas police force, then later worked for the FBI. His favorite thing to do, was to grab one of his sisters and handcuff them to the nearest immobile object - such as a street light pole or car handle. Usually, he'd just grab them, pick them up, and plant them next to the object of choice, and before they could get away. . .they were handcuffed tight. While handcuffed the aunt or Mom, would plead on deaf ears to be released for one reason or another. I think all of us kids thought it was really funny. (I was glad he never handcuffed any of us kids - or I would have been terrified.)

Eating watermelon

As kids, my cousins and I would sit on the front porch at Grandma Smith's and eat watermelon pieces. The sticky juice would roll down our arms and drip off our chins. We didn't care, because the watermelon tasted so good at the end of a hot day. We'd also spit or seeds onto Grandma's lawn. She was pretty fastidious about her home, but maybe she didn't care about the watermelon juice, cause they could hose off the porch, and the seeds would just add fertilizer for the lawn.

Vacations (4): Summer of '66

For some reason the trip that sticks out most in my mind, was the summer of '66. I think we left shortly after Dad came home from work and drove all night. The next morning we were able to pick up one of the gigantic rock stations in Salt Lake City. We listened to the top forty hits, and as the sun came up over the Wasatch range, the song "Red Rubber Ball" by The Cyrkle was playing (lyrics here). It became one of my favorite songs of the summer.

Of course, when you listen to a top 40 station, they play the same songs over and over again. I memorized "Red Rubber Ball" as well as "Paperback Writer" by The Beatles. Now "Paperback Writer" was one of those songs that was difficult to learn the lyrics to because it moved fast except on the chorus. Dad memorized the song, also. He said, "What are they singing? Pay forThat Rifle?"

I told him it was "Paperback Writer," but he began to sing the chorus "Pay for That Rifle, Pay for That Rifle, Pay for That Rifle." (I never really liked that song, anyway. . .) "Paperback Writer" - lyrics here. Sometimes I still tease him about that.

Senior Pic

My High School Graduation Photo

My Dad's Humor

My dad doesn't have a computer, so it is not likely that he will see this blog. Regardless, I have to say he is and has been the best Dad ever!

Dad has an amazing sense of humor that has popped up at unexpected times as well, as the expected ones. For example, one time we were walking along the streets of downtown Spokane, and my dad asked my mom to hold his hand. She took his hand, and he began to walk a step or two behind her, doing his gorilla imitation. My sister and I started to laugh, so my mom turned and seeing his antics, threw his hand from hers and said, "Now stop that!" She was mortified. I don't know if we laughed harder at her response, but that was the way life was with Mom and Dad. He was the goof-ball, and she was the unsuspecting "straight man."

When we would go to the grocery store, Dad would invariably pretend he was going to run the cart into the grocery shelves or displays. "BAM!" He would say, as he heaved the cart toward this side or that side of the aisle, stopping just short of hitting something. "BAM! BAM!" As we went up and down the aisles. One time, his depth perception was just a little off - and he knocked down a stack of cans or boxes. We laughed at his embarrassment, but that was okay with him. He knew we were laughing with - not at - him.

When I was away at college, my sister introduced a young girl to my parents who was looking for a new foster home. My parents took her in. After she became comfortable living with my family, my dad took B with him to the grocery store. When he started BAMMING and acting off to embarrass her, she turned to him and said, "If you don't straighten up, I'm never coming to the store with you again." So Dad complied. I guess her personality was a lot like Mom's, and Dad only acted up when someone thought he was funny.

My sister and I can attribute our sense of humor to Dad. Although we didn't inherit his love of public displays of goofiness, we like to banter, joke, and do plays on words. We so "get" each other's humor, that sometimes we don't have to finish saying something, before we are both laughing so hard we can't stop. We have thus far evaded disaster at Barney's Sooper Market [how they spell it] by retreating to different aisles in hopes we don't hear each other's snorts, guffaws, or snickers. Someday, if we aren't careful, we will hear, "Clean up on aisle 6 - - -and aisle 7."

I can see Dad's humor in my daughter's also. Each one has a little different style, but they are all funny. Sometimes it isn't evident to them how much they share the same sense of humor, until a friend will say. . ."What's so funny?" (while my girls are practically falling out of their seats with laughter.)

Thanks, Dad, for the sense of humor that you inherited from your parents and passed along to us. You are the best Dad ever, and this is only one reason why. . .