The Ward Party and The Latest on My Article

Last night we held our "Country Fair" party for our ward. We were in charge of it again, but this time DramaMama delegated a lot of the responsibilities to the different auxiliaries, and it was much easier.

Toward the end of setup before the party began, we had a minor trauma... we were about to fill the two 5 gallon jugs with ice water, when the water in the building turned off. A few phone calls, and some scrambling later, and once again the water came on and we were able to finish in plenty of time. The Bishop was outside working with the water shut-off, while on the cell phone to the Elder's Quorum President in the kitchen. Bishop fiddled with it until it came on.

Once we got going, the party pretty much ran itself. There was little maintenance needed other than keeping the food stocked. DrummerBoy and some of his friends provided the music for the evening, and they sounded fantastic. By the end of the night after having set up and taken down about 20 tables, and a hundred or so chairs, I felt like an old man. As part of the fair, we had displays for crafts, quilts, art, etc. I set up several of my drawings, a couple photos I took years ago, and the sheet music to 3 songs I wrote.

At one point, I stopped the Bishop and thanked him for helping get the water back on. As we were parting, he stopped me. "Brother Hanks, I got a call from Salt Lake."

"Uh-oh," I said, not knowing for sure where he was going with this.

He continued and told me that the call came from the editing department of the Ensign. He said the conversation went something like this:

"Do you know a Brother Hanks?"

"Yes I do."

"We just wanted to verify that he was in your ward, because we are preparing to publish his article in an upcoming issue."

...

Bishop said that it should be within 2 or 3 issues. When I received the original notification that they wanted to use my article, they said that there would need to be an editing process where they would edit my article, and sent it back to me for my revisions, etc until we came to an agreement of the final text. It does need an editing pass or two. Of all the things I have ever submitted, this one had the least polishing done to it. All in all it is pretty sound, but after re-reading it, I saw a few things I would change.

So there we are... it won't be long and I will finally be able to say that I have been published.


[UPDATE]
I received an email yesterday (12/3/08) with the edited copy, and a note stating that my article is slated for publication in the August 2009 issue.

I am going through the copy and doing some editing myself. I have until mid-January to get the revised version back to them.

Uh.... Come Again?

There are things in life that just don't make sense to my brain. We came across one of those this past week.

A couple months ago DramaMama had an alarm system installed in our house. We got the system free on a promotion, and all we pay is the monthly fee. Last week Drummer Boy accidently pushed the panic button on the remote to the alarm system. Soon the police were at our house checking it out to make sure that there really werent intruders.

A little bit after that we were notified that we weren't licensed to have a security system in our home.

HUH?

You have to have a LICENSE to protect your home and family with an alarm system? I don't know about you, but that is completely ludicrous to me.

So anyway, we have to fill out a form and send in $10 to become licensed to not die in a home invasion.

The Tales of Black Eye Pete

This past weekend we had a family reunion with DramaMama's clan.

Some of her cousins and I have somewhat kindred spirits as we enjoy a good "ARRRRRRRR".

They were in charge of the reunion this time, so we had a pirate theme. I of course felt right at home.

We were at a privately owned pond in the middle of Show Low Arizona. It was a neat place. We were greeted at the entrance gate (One you have to get out of your car, unhook the bailing wire, and swing open to let the car in, then close again) by the property owner. He instructed us that we have to be sure to close the gate again, because the Sheriff called him earlier to tell him his horses were all over the highway. Once we pulled into the place we found the cousins watching, as you might have guessed, Pirates of the Carribean.

It was late by the time we arrived, so we headed off to bed. In the morning, we had a big group breakfast, then set about family reunion type activities. There was a good sized pond there complete with a rowboat, kayaks, and other floaty things.

We all got hosed down with sun screen. It was decidedly cooler there than in Mesa, but make no mistake, it was hot. Drummer Boy spent quite a lot of time in the water. We found out later how good of a job he did on his sunscreen application. He got everywhere he could reach, which obviously excluded his back. He got deep-fried, roasted, and baked. I have a nice red face, but am okay other than that. The Bear burned his legs a bit.

I took the Bug (he is visiting for the month) and the Bear out on the row boat and rowed to the far end of the pond and back. I discovered that I had rubbed up a sizeable blister on the inside of my right thumb. There is an oval about 3/4 of an inch long and about 1/4 inch wide. It is all red and cracky right now.

The Bug and the Bear spent a lot of time together either on or in the water. The Bear had a permanent life jacket on Saturday, even at dinner. All three boys had a great time.

This is the Bear with his "Treasure Map" which was actually the brackets for the horseshoe tournament.

Saturday evening, we had the traditional program of skits followed by homemade ice cream. I was talking to one of the cousins, and we jumped into pirate-speak mode. I threw out my best pirate line, and then he informed me that his brother who was supposed to emcee the program had hurt his back, and then asked if I would fill in.

Since I am a good pirate, I agreed. Last time I did this, I had a lot of advanced warnings, and had a lot of jokes ready. This time, I had to scramble to get something together. There was enough pirate stuff around that I was able to get into "costume". Once I was ready, I was told I looked like a "Dead Head". I donned the name "Black Eye Pete" and took the mic.

So I started off in fine voice, with nobody getting or laughing at my jokes. I dumped half of them, and my bits that I had worked up fell through.

I talked the Bear into coming up and telling a couple pirate jokes. I made one of them up, the other came courtesy of drummer boy.

Here they are for your enjoyment:

This is the one I made up:

"Where do Pirates put their banana peels?"

"In the GAAAAAARRRRRbage"

Coming from the Bear it got a good laugh.

This is the other one:

A pirate walked into an ice cream parlor. He had a wooden leg, A hook hand, and a patch on his eye. The shop owner asked, "How did you lose your leg?"

"ARRRR, I lost it in battle!"

"How did you lose your hand?"

"It were bitten off by a shark."

"How did you lose your eye?"

"A bird pooped in it."

"And that blinded you?

"No... it were the first day with me hook!"

***

We returned on Sunday after a very enjoyable weekend with family and the sun.

Here's his royal fatness losing horribly at horseshoes

Happy Holidays from the Sewer Treatment Plant

Last evening, DramaMama and I were watching a show in our room when the Bear came in.

"Daddy will you get me some of your favorite drink of egganog?"

"Ask Clinton if he will get some for you."

"No, he might say it's poop!"

Mischief and Mayhem at the Weezil Compound

Tonight we hosted our family Halloween party. It was a great success with such fun things as the bubbling witch cauldron of root beer to the stick-to-the-wall gooey things that are now stuck to our ceiling, courtesy of DrummerBoy.

Among our activities was the Mummy Wrap game where the kids had to wrap their daddy in toilet paper like a mummy. We have photos, but they aren't downloaded yet. It was fun, but the TP kept breaking.

We had an excess of dry ice, so as you can imagine that all the boys in the house, fresh from a great episode of Mythbusters, set to trying the 2-liter bottle dry ice blooey. Three unsuccessful attempts were made before the dry ice ran out. We decided that the dry ice had lost its punch because it had been sitting out most of the evening. A short drive to the grocery store replenished the supply and mayhem ensued.

With DrummerBoy as the point-man and me as the giddy chaperone, we proceeded to do the thing up right. We recalled how Jamie from Mythbusters had carefully cut his dry ice into long strips, we set out to duplicate this. I sawed out several pieces and loaded the baby up. After about 20 minutes with no big bang, I was getting annoyed. There was plenty of fuel this time.

We gathered in one of the first attempts and discovered that the bottle was rock hard from the pressure. Since it hadn't blown on its own, we decided to give it a little help. One big toss into the sky onto asphalt later and the bottle kersploded. We both ran inside giggling like school girls.

"Did you leave it out there?" I said.

"It was gone... I found the label though."

"Go see if you can find any pieces from it."

A minute or so later he came back in. "I think it went in the neighbor's yard. She was pretty mad."

I came up here to do this post, and was about to the second paragraph went I heard a BOOM. I charged downstairs to hear DrummerBoy and DramaMama laughing heartily. The way it sounded, I thought it had gone off in the house.

This time he used a bottled water bottle. We found the wrapper from that too. So far no sirens.

I was originally going to blog about "Whistles for kids at parties are the Devil", but this won out.

By the way, the last bottle we tried is so bloated and hard that it is going to be a dandy when it hits the pavement. We are saving it for tomorrow so the neighbor that got the first one doesn't get too mad. We'll wake her up with it. Tee Hee.

My trip to Wal-Mart by CheezWeezil

Not a title for a novel by any stretch, but hey... this is a blog.

DramaMama has been fighting a nasty yuck-fest being sick, so I went to the store and took the Bear with me. Up until now, he has been relatively easy to shop with, but he is moving into the the phase where everything he sees he wants.

We had a list reminiscent of Santa's of items I needed to get. It quickly became a packing and stacking experiment to see if we could make it with only a single cart. The Bear soon became fixed in his position with groceries piled all around. There was a mysterious "CLEAN UP ON AISLE 5!" call, but we won't go into that.

As is usually the case, the most important items on the list either were not in stock, or required government clearance to purchase, so we bought other stuff instead. So by the time the Bear was just eyeballs and a suit made of frozen Hungry Man dinners, we made our way to the checkout. For some reason there appeared to be two choices: The hundred mile long line or self-checkout.

"I'm not going to self check all this crap!" I said to noone listening.

Then I noticed that there were actually two checkers fed by the same line, but most of the people hadn't spotted the second one who was cleverly hidden behind a large pile of groceries.

Whistling a nonchalant tune, I moved to the second checkout station, with only one person in line in front of me. I soon realized why the items I needed weren't in stock. This lady had her own 18-wheeler backed up to the front doors of Wal-Mart to take her haul home. "That'll be 4 million, eight hundred thousand, five hundred and eight six dollars and eleven cents please dear."

News crews were everywhere filming this unprecedented volume of grocery items. Okay, so I'm exaggerating, sue me.

Anyway, it finally came to be our turn, all of our stuff taking up the entire span of the moving belt. Everything was going fine until about half-way through I realized the DramaMama had sent me with competitor sale ads for price matches on a few of the items.

"Aw, CRAP! Some of this is price matches."

The checker who I will describe as a squaw from the blue-hair tribe of East Mesa, let out a noise of annoyance and irritation. She hailed the manager nearby as I checked the list and discovered that some of the price match items had already been scanned.

The manager shook her head.

"Is it too late?"

"Not if you don't mind starting over."

"Aww CRAP!"

I was about to just bag it and eat the cost, when the manager told the checker that she could void the items and rescan them. A simple task you might think, but the older woman nearly inhaled her false teeth at the prospect.

The Manager showed her how to do it, and I was apologizing profusely. Laser beams carved old lady initials in my forehead... okay... exaggerating again.

She got that all going, basically telling me to cork my gob while she got it done. Meanwhile the Bear is in the cart letting me know that he wants to go home and getting animal crackers everywhere. (He won out on that one.)

About three shift changes later, she finally rung up the total. "That'll be 4 million...." okay, okay, its was only $140 something. I scanned the card, and klaxons blared, men dressed in black descended from the ceiling on ropes...

Okay the card cleared, sheesh.

So I employed four stout Wal-Mart Grandpa's to help me push the cart to the door. By now the frozen Hungryman suit was getting soft, the milk was brown, and the Bear needed a shave.

"Hey Dad dude," the now gruff voice of the Bear said. "Is that your phone?"

I had not even heard it, but took it out and it was ringing. Being phone challenged, I hung up on the caller who turned out to be my dear, ill DramaMama. I called back and was told I needed to pick up The Large Drummer Boy and his sidekick Dreadlock Whitey.

So I traveled to the mall having to make three passes by the designated pickup spot before finding them. I was so frustrated that foul things such as "Darn Soup!" had escaped my lips.

Now, as I mentioned before, there was an item that I needed to get for DramaMama that required goverment clearance to purchase, so I headed to the pharmacy drive-up window.

This time there really was only one line, and it was a hundred cars deep. Blue-hairs on Metamucil runs or something.

After about ten minutes of waiting, Drummer Boy spoke in a most irritated tone letting me know that we would be home already if we had just parked and gone inside.

Did I mention that it is monsoon season and there was horrific lightning and heavy rain going on at the time?

I held my tongue with a comment about how I would also be home if I didn't have to circle the mall 3 times.

So, I finally got to the window and asked for a box of Advil Cold and Sinus which can now only be purchased directly from the pharmacist due to large quantities being stolen and used to produce crystal meth.

Now the guys in black descended from helicopters, took my life history, fingerprinted me and took mugshots, then I had to sign a book.

So after the body cavity search, I was allowed the box of medication for my dear wife.

At last we arrived home and carried in the vast quantities of grocery items.

All in all a rather interesting trip to the store. The highlight of course being able to annoy the matronly checkout Gramma. My work is done.

Meet my brother "Monkey Butt"

The Bear of course was the inspiration for this blog. Not long ago, I was taking the Bear to bed, and we were going through the obligatory "good night John Boy" thing. As we were passing DrummerBoy's room, I told the Bear to tell him goodnight. The Bear hollered, "GOOD NIGHT MONKEY BUTT!"

Now... I was reminiscing at work today about the wonderful nicknames my siblings and I had as kids. My oldest brother was dubbed "King Tut" because he would read while in the bathroom and be in there for a very long time. My oldest sister went by "Christmas" because we were always waiting for her. I had a couple over the years. They show the love my family had for me. When I was a toddler I was known as "Dingbat". As I grew older, I became (shudder) "Dinkledorf". My younger sister had many. She started out as a baby with "Who", because that was the sound she made all the time. That evolved into Hoppeye (rhymes with Popeye). At one point she was "Relly" (Her name was Linda, but after a viewing of Cinderella, she got dubbed "Linda Relly"). Then the best one I ever came up with... "Stink Weed".

Alright, game on... Tell me your childhood nicknames, or ones you used on others. Don't be shy, I figure I will be addressed as Dinkledorf by my blog readers for awhile because of this. :)

Another day older...

I was born one mornin' and the sun didn't shine
I picked up my shovel and I walked to the mine
I loaded sixteen tons of number nine coal
and the straw boss said, "well bless my soul!"

Translated into yesterday:

I dragged my butt out of bed before the sun shined,
I picked up a shovel and started to whine.
I loaded fourteen tons, ended up on the floor,
and the girl boss said, "I loaded ten tons more!" :)

It was indeed an adventure. We arrived around 8:30 am to a rather large pile (which actually was 14 tons) of crushed granite. It was supposed to have been dropped in the driveway, but it covered the sidewalk and half the road. In all honesty, I didn't think the pile was all that big until we tackled it with shovels. I never knew rocks could have babies.

We had two wheel barrows and a passel of shovels. The neighbor kids wanted to help, which most of the time really didn't . We finally had it all in place by 4:00pm. We had to take numerous breaks due to the 105 degree heat. I put down four bottles of 32oz gatorade, along with several other drinks of water. You would expect a frequent "gotta go gotta go gotta go right now" sort of deal, but at the rate I was sweating, it wasn't ever an issue.

Several times during the day I used the garden hose to cool off my head, confirming that I am indeed a hosehead.

By the end of the day, I was feeling slightly nauseous and had a screaming headache which I understand is an indication of heat exhaustion/dehydration. I dont know how I could have drunk much more than I did.

The reason I was on the floor was that recently I have managed to tweak my back several times doing light stuff. I was probably 3/4 through with the day and it was complaining, so I went and laid on the floor to give it a break.

I went back out there and helped finish up after that. It was quite a job. The bear donned my spare pair of gloves and came out to 'help' us.

He had a little garden shovel with which he was putting 3 rocks in a little plastic wagon. At one point he got mixed up and started bringing rocks back and putting them on the pile.


DramaMama was wonderful and brought us cold rags to tie around our necks, sprayed us with cool water, etc.

I can almost move now, but pretty much everything I got hurts.

My Dilithium Crystals Turned Out to be Bath Salts

And what the crap does that mean you ask?

Well let me enlighten you.

A couple times a week I drive Doghouse Boy to school on my way to work. A couple of days ago, one of those really stupid things that pop into my head popped into my head.

The thought isn't exactly original, but the aftermath was.

So as we were driving along, I posed the question, "Why do you suppose that cows don't shrink when it rains?" Alluding to the phenomenon of leather shrinking once it has become wet.

DogHouse boy gave a "heh heh", and things fell silent.

Then my weird old brain kicked in.

"The cows that needed to be milked would be squirting all over the place."

"Ha Ha Ha... That's gross."

"And projectile cowpies."

"You're weird."

The Bear that Slimed Chuck E Cheese

Yesterday, the Bear turned 5. He had a fantastic time all day. He was as cute as he could be at Chuck E Cheese's.

He got a little crown to wear and he had it on all evening. By the time we left, many of the "points" were bent down, and he resembled Jughead from the Archie comics.

When it was the Bear's turn to march around the place with Chuck E Cheese, he was so excited, he accidentally stuck his elbow in his birthday cake. Then he ran over and hugged Chuck E Cheese and slimed him with a large glog of green icing. It was a beautiful thing.

Later, they had a little stint of Chuck E says. One of the things they did was wiggle dance, and the Bear went for it and was shaking his moneymaker for all it was worth. Unfortunately, I didn't have a video camera with me. It was so darn cute, and we were rolling.

Daddy had a good time, and DogHouse Boy and DramaMama discovered a game that spewed tickets, so by the time we were out of tokens we had accumulated 1200+ tickets. The Bear got A LOT of smarties.

He was so funny all night. As we were going home, he asked if tomorrow it would still be his birthday. I told him that when he woke up it wouldn't be anymore.

he replied, "I want it to be my birthday... I NEED my birthday!"

Dastardly Deeds!

Just when you thought it was safe to do dishes again!

This morning as I was innocently cleaning up after a nutritious breakfast of Cheerios and Frosted Mini Weeds (as the Bear calls them), I fell victim to a vile perpetration!

I gathered the various bowls from locations throughout the house. (Mommy had breakfast in bed).

I moved dutifully into the kitchen...

I returned the cereal boxes to their proper homes...

I approached the sink with intention to rinse all remaining cereal bits and milk goo down the drain...

I reach for the handle to turn on the faucet...

I lift it, and hear the sound of water...

Odd... No water is coming out of the tap!

"Arooo?" I say out loud.

I suddenly become aware of pressure and dampness in my stomach region.

"WHOA!" is shouted to none listening.

I slam the handle back down and survey the situation...

Using my sharp skills as detective, I quickly find the solution to the mystery...

Our 15 year-old, formerly known as Vegan Boy, (now to be known as DogHouse Boy) had a friend over last night and out of the kindness of our hearts we ordered them pizza. How do they repay me?

By taping the handle of the sprayer down!

The Sword in the Sorcerer's Stone

As I mentioned in a previous blog, my family took a 3 day vacation to Disneyland in March. Our 14 year old was playing with his school band, and we decided to take the Bear and go as well.

He had a wonderful time, and we thoroughly enjoyed our time there with him. He loved the "It's a Small World" ride. We went on it 5 times.

DramaMama and I got a kick out of the Bear when he went to see Merlin.

"Look, Daddy, it's Dumbledore!"

The Things Kids Endure at the Hands of Their Older Siblings

Family Photo Outtakes

Doesn't even need a caption

Now we step into the way back machine....

Now that we have covered the higher topics of poop and toots, I thought we would descend in to the world of Disney. Sort of like that submarine ride they used to have. Either that or the "doodloo doodloo doodloo" sound Wayne Campbell makes right after he tells Garth to take his Ritalin and they fade into a fantasy together.

So like 326 years and 9 days ago, I got divorced. At the time it was no fun, but now I couldn't be happier about it. Why you ask? Because I met this fine lady.

My son you are about to meet was brand new when this happened. His mom left me before she had him. Tra la la la... don't cry for me concertina... la la de da.... Anyway, when my little guy was 2, his mom went to California with him, and drove PAST Disneyland, but didn't take him. I was appalled, nay shocked and appalled.

So amidst harumphs and pshaws, I went to the bank and refinanced my car for the third time, and bought a deluxe package deal for 5 days with passes to Disneyland, Knott's Berry Farm, Sand Diego Zoo, and Sea World. I was hot to trot.

Now he being 2 at the time, he doesn't remember any of it anymore (he turns 12 in February). But I have some great pictures of our adventures there.

First we visit the airplane ride to LAX. Here we see the Bug, as I called him then, getting "Soapies" out of the button used to lower the plane seat:

That's my stylish shoe in the corner.

Once we were in California, we went to Disneyland in the morning and had a great time, came home for a nap, then went back until dark. We had a shuttle from the hotel that took us to all of the parks, it was wonderful. The little guy would sleep during the shuttle rides, and occasionally at the parks. The Tiki Tiki Tiki Tiki Tiki room got him, he missed most of it.

At Sea World, I took him to the area where the kids can touch the dolphins. He was too little to reach them, so I lifted him up and out. Right as he got to the dolphin, it purged its blowhole right in his face.

"Daddy, I don't want to see the dolphins anymore."

At Disneyland, he was an attraction in himself, because he has a daddy with a strange sense of humor. Before our trip, I had a shirt made for him that read "I kicked Mickey Mouse at Disneyland." He is wearing it in the pictures to come. Most people thought it was funny, even the characters. One lady however was practically outraged, that was in line for the Dumbo ride. Luckily, we didn't have to deal with her much. Sheesh its a joke!

We visited Pinnochio. He was there with Kitty. Kitty thought it was funny, but as they are not allowed to talk, he had to tap me on the shoulder and mimic laughing with his paw to his mouth. Then he got Pinnochio's attention and pointed to the shirt. Great fun.

Here we see him honking Kitty's nose... notice Kitty is still pointing at his shirt:

Ain't he cute?

Somewhere during our visit we saw Roger Rabbit... Hey, it was probably in Toon Town, duh! Anyway, here's the Bug with Roger Rabbit, and you get a better look at his shirt:

Now, years later, like last March... The family minus the Bug went to Disneyland to see our 14 year old play with his band at the Carnation Plaza, which by the way, I did on two separate occasions with my group when I was 17, but I digress.

So before the trip, I thought it would be fun to have the Bear wear the same shirt. It would be sort of a rite of passage, a baton passing if you will from Bug to Bear of a treasured family item. My wife had issue with it for some reason, and actually took a poll on her blog to see what all you thought about it. I lost the vote. So the Bear just wore boring old kid clothes.

I will have more on the Bug, The Bear, Big Brother Vegan Boy, DramaMama, and CheezWeezil in days to come. Until then...

POOP! TOOT!