Love & Animals Valentines e-Card! Enjoy!

Mr. Obama in Elkhart, IN - that's where I live..

The President was about 4 miles away from my home today! He was in Elkhart, Indiana talking about his economic stimulus bill. The reason he was here again (he was here several times in our area and elsewhere in the state during his campaign) is because my county literally has the highest unemployment figure in the entire country - 15.3%!! Holy cow Batman.

70% of all Recreational Vehicles are made in a 5 county area around us and we have been hit very hard with companies going out of business and massive layoffs. The whole RV business, both motorized and towables is off between 75 - 80%. Yes, they are only running production at levels that are 20-25% of last year. There are so many people that have been unemployed (for months now) that they cannot even process the claims from over 3 months ago. The Indiana govenor has promised (as yet unfulfilled) to send hundreds of gov types from elsewhere in the state to assist with processing of these claims.

So - okay, I didn't vote for the man - I'm not happy with most of his strategies and so on; but he is the President and I was pleased to see the first trip he's made since his inaguration was to the hardest hit area of the country for economic downturn! He is a great speaker and did speak the truth to the folks here today. He still emphasized the need for personal responsibility and helping ourselves with positive education and preparedness. I just spoke with a couple who are good friends - the wife is an educator in a public high school and she was agast to hear most of her African-American students express outrage against the President saying he was, "NOT black enough!" She further observed that most of the ethnic minority students literally felt that they had been lied to - as they truely expected more immediate CASH in hand from the government after this recent election. That is a sad commentary!

God Bless America and yes, God Bless the President. Oh, and just to have a little fun, here are favorite pix of him (ha, ha, ha!):

Vinegar Joe's Partner - Sour Sam!

Okay! The response was so overwhelming on Vinegar Joe's wandering request that we make Spanish the official language of the United States - that Sour Sam here got all offended that he hadn't been asked to contribute as well. He called me last night and wanted to know about "time-out's". I asked him what he wanted to know, and he quickly corrected me - he didn't want my explanation, he wanted a forum to express his concern for the discipline of America's youth. So I invited him to "talk" to us all here. So as Brother John would say, "You know, here is Sam. He will speak you know about a topic that is, you know, serious - YOU KNOW!" (It should be noted here that Brother John is upset at the rest of his siblings with kids - he neither spanks or gives time-outs to his kids - he gives them the Mad Bear arched eyebrow "look". He thinks that Brother Dennis spanked his kids so much that it has socially inhibited them in their current old age. And he thinks that Brother Russ was a wuss and just used "time-out's". Brother Morg doesn't count cause he had just spoiled his one and only). So here is Sour Sam:

Hi, my name is Sam. I am a Sephardic Jew. I am a liberal and happy to be living now in Florida. I frankly think that the lack of discipline with America's youth is abismal. Spare the rod and spoil the child, some have always said. My parents both worked hard and just ignored me. I had to fend for myself - and look, I turned out just fine. I never received any discipline as a child, in NYC's Hell's Kitchen, except from the school of Hard Knocks. I loved my parents and I knew they loved me. I had two kids and never raised my voice, or hand, or eyebrow to either one of them. They are quite fine adults now and live peacefully in upstate New York, in a "block" in the Attica area...

I hope I can prevail upon all of America's parents - don't give your children any discipline. Just love them and let them grow up as they wish. Stop listening to this Audra fanatic in Glendale, AZ who keeps quoting some "Trimming the Tree / And The Children story" that her sick father taught her. We are just too paranoid today - nothing bad can happen to our kids. I mean think about it, with more discipline you will just creat little automatons who can't think for themselves. We don't want that. After all, they might move to Miami and vote consistently liberal - which does nothing to support Isreal (its the conservatives who give the most consistent support to us Zionists). Oh, I guess I just contradicted myself. I'm sorry! Don't spank, glare at, or give "time-out's" to your kids. Leave them to grow as they want.

Your new anti-Dr. Phil-like advisor - Sour Sephardic Sam

Introducing My Buddy - Vinegar Joe!

Vinegar Joe is one of my advisors and best friends. He has done my taxes and all my legal advisory work for over 20 years. He has never lied to me. He is always right (sometimes FAR RIGHT)! The years have grizzled him a bit, but he is still the original and true, VINEGAR JOE. I trust him, so should you...

So, Joe found out about my writing this blog for family & friends and he insisted that he be allowed to reach out to my loved ones and best friends and offer his bold wisdom and faithful Republican spirit. So I will be inviting VJ to "speak" to (at) us frequently each month. I hope you benefit from his discernment's and experience as I have. Please write comments to him, so that he can determine to whom he should ship midnight skunks.

Joe likes to ramble, so to keep him focused we will offer specific topics. This should keep him on target and prevent his waxing poetic about his lost love, Maxine (I'm sure you've seen her cartoon representation in those funny cards). Maxine is a real person, you know (you know, my brother John says, "you know" about 4 times average per paragraph, you know. It must be a Mormon thing, or an ex thing, oh forget it). VJ's topic for this post is: Should all American citizens be required to speak Spanish? Here is Vinegar Joe:

Hi! My name is Vinegar Joe. Don't let my looks fool you. I am quite a lover. Why until my old girl threw me over for Valentino (you know - he Spanish, not Italian), I was quite the cat's meow. But I got drunk that night and ran into a Spanish speaking gang. I didn't know what they were saying, so I tried to communicate using Indian sign language and I must have said the wrong thing because they knocked all my teeth out. So, YES - I think we should all learn to speak Spanish just to avoid the foul experience I endured. In fact, we should make Spanish the official language of the United States. After all, as you all know - there is NO officially designated "language" here. In fact, I don't enjoy punching "1" now to communicate in English with companies on the phone. It would be easier if we all just spoke what 45% of America speaks right now - Spanish. Besides without my teeth, I sound like Elder Newey and whisp out all my English words! So I might as well just whisp out my Spanish words as well. I've met Greybear's brother, John, who served a mission in Argentina and speaks fluent Spanish. Heck, I can swear in Spanish much better than he can. So tell me in your comments, which is it - English or Spanish? See you later - I know you hope not...

Vinegar Joe

Morgan J. - Here is to YOUR Birthday

Okay, let's really embarass MJB. By the way he really doesn't have a middle name - just a middle initial - and he was named after MJB coffee (not really - and you youngsters won't remember that brand of coffee). Morg is going to be 54 on Sunday 2/8/09. He is going thru a divorce (we wish him well.....) and he is doing great as a Technical / Mantainence guy for an equipment manufacturer. He has traveled all over the world installing and servicing this stuff and is quite the raconteur now. WE love him. He was such a cute little boy with all that curly hair, now he is bald like me. Of course our two younger brother still think they have hair (Russ keeps dyeing his orange - he is a surfer dude at the University of Indiana, and John just knows he has hair up there - some where - he just can't find it).

I will always love my brother, Morgan. He and I made a pact years ago as youngsters, that we wouldn't run away without talking to the other. Several times we waited out back for the other one to come home and talk the other out of leaving. We fought some pretty vicious fights as little brothers - but Grandma Beardall scared that out of us one day when we got into it at one of her sister's home. She went out and got two tree limbs and told us to really punish the other. We got so scared we dropped the mini tree trunks and ran to hide from Grandma Edith (someday I'll tell you the story of how my best friend / cousin Kerry tried to kill me with a rake to the head, the beautiful Christine will remember that occurrence). Well, Happy Birthday Morgan!

The photos above show him two years ago at Nancee's Bday dinner in KC. The middle shot shows Aunt Lorraine, Mom Colleen, and Morgan holding her head in a weird kind of disembodied shot at our home in SLC in May 1971. And the bottom pic is one of Dennis, Nancee, and Morgan at 8, 4, and 6 years respectively.

Happy Birthday Morgan - February 8th!

Happy Birthday Luke!

Part 3 - Great Experiences with My Dad

It has been more than difficult to choose a final chapter in describing my 3 greatest experiences with my Dad. As I have said repeatedly before - I was blessed to have so many wonderful or teaching experiences with Dad. However, I would have to say that in this installment I will focus on the the six or seven times he joined me during 2-3 week trips to the Orient. Over probably four years I was privileged to have him accompany me several times each year. His last trip with me was in October 1989, just one month before his death. I had been traveling for several years to the Pacific Rim, South America, Europe, and the Caribbean basin on business - buying raw materials, components and finished goods for personal leather accessories.

Dad had asked if he could accompany me on one and it started from there. These trips were superlative in that we not only got to see the wonders of the Orient, but he got to participate with me in business meetings, factory inspections, and negotiations in Mainland China, Hong Kong, Taiwan, South Korea, Japan, Thailand, and the Philippines. It was, as he described it, "wonderful to see my grown Son run his business and develop relationships and product half way around the world". He got very excited in seeing all of the variety of goods available in the wholesale showrooms in Taiwan and Hong Kong. However, I dealt directly with factories in mostly China, Hong Kong and Taiwan - with a few in Macau and Thailand - so he really got his eyes open when we took the jet foil to Macau or the long train / plane ride into mainland China and personally visited the factories making my stuff. If the creative side of things got too long or boring, we always had one of the office personnel in the factory take Dad on an extended tour of the city or countryside where ever we were at. In many ways he got a much better and more personal view of the Pacific rim than did I. About a year before his death, I also paid for Mom to join him on a trip and they both had a real adventure. Their plane got diverted to Alaska - a place of certain family Heritage (her Uncle found Will Rodgers and Wiley Post after their plane crashed after leaving Point Barrow) that she had always wanted to visit. They then were delayed in Tokyo and had to spend an extra night there. So Mom and Dad were really flush with excitement when they finally got to Hong Kong. They both took some Thomas Cook tours across the border into China (Hong Kong was at that time still a British colony), went to a Chinese grade school, shopped (there is no more dynamic place for shopping and negotiating than Hong Kong in all the world), ate, and enjoyed their suite at the Sheraton-Kowloon. We three had a ball for over a week and I don't think they really wanted to go home, when it came time.

On Dad's last trip there (I related this story at his funeral), he and I had both walked out of a negotiation session (not an unheard of tactic in Occidental / Oriental price negotiations) in a factory deep in mainland China. It was a very small hamlet and we were sitting on some concrete steps at the front of the factory. Those steps opened up to a small maketplace (if you can call it that in this small village). It was late in the afternoon and we watched all of the few other vendors pack their stuff up and to home. There remained only one guy with a rudimentary weight scale and a few scraps of what minutes before had been a chicken. His final customer and he haggled over what was really just fat and skin of what remained. We both found the scene poignant and funny.

It was humorus watching them haggle over the price. But it was poignant as well, because neither the proud chicken butcher or his customer would relent. They finally reached a bargain and left the square. We both sat there and jokingly compared the experience we had just witnessed to the scene inside that we had earlier left behind and laughed at the fact that our own haggling was not much different that those two proud citizens who had so sublimely entertained us!

#2 Top Experience With Dad

As I previously indicated, there are myriad experiences I've had with my parents that quickly come to mind. However, as I've contemplated the more personal, intrinsically valuable occurrences I've decided to focus in this case on one of the tug at the heart, cut to the quick experiences that involved both Dad and me. It was in the Spring of 1972, just before I was to go on my mission to Alaska and British Columbia, Canada for 2 years.

In the Mormon Church, at that time, it was a very big deal to have your Father ordain you an Elder just prior to your departing for the mission field. During my interview process, I spoke with Bishop Halverson about having my Father ordain me (it was common knowledge in the Ward that my Dad had smoked for many years). In spite of the Word of Wisdom problem, the Bishop (who was well aware of this issue) confirmed it would be fine for my Dad to ordain me. So I was all prepped and excited when I was scheduled to go with Dad to our old meeting house on Holmes Road in KC the next Sunday to be interviewed by the Stake President. Dad was also very proud that he would be allowed to ordain me and was suited up appropriately to conduct the ordination.

I had my final interview with President Sanders and then indicated that my Dad was in the foyer waiting to ordain me. President Sanders stopped me and indicated strongly that he knew my Father did not obey the Word of Wisdom and would NOT allow him to ordain me. In fact he wanted to discourage me from allowing my Father to even stand in the circle with us during my ordination. Maybe its hard for the reader to get the depth of the feelings I had at that point, but I just felt like my strong, anxious Father, who was waiting for me to come fetch him - was about to have his feelings and pride crushed. I was also in no small measure feeling like he and I both had been set up and betrayed because of the prior approval from our Bishop. The Stake President saw me sitting there stunned and probably looking at him with displeasure - I finally restated that the Bishop had given me a green flag on the issue and I had brought my Dad along for that purpose. I had dated the Stake President's daughter off and on for six years and knew him and his family well - too well. President Sanders put his hand on my shoulder and stated that he would be happy to explain the situation to Dad, but he just could not have him do the ordination. I stood up and firmly stated that no one but I would deliver such news to my Dad - I also requested that he be allowed to stand in the circle during the ordination (you Mormons will understand). President Sanders nodded his hanging head and I walked out to find Dad.

So whether you understand the heart felt feelings I was having or not, try to appreciate the fact that I had just turned 19 (see the pic above) and this was a very big event in a young Mormon man's life. Having your Father do the ordination (at least it was at that time in our area) was an anticipated honor (if the Father was "worthy"). It should not have been such a surprise - but it was, because I had been so upfront with my Bishop and it all seemed to be no big deal and approved. Later after the event Bishop Halverson apologized to me for the hurt and disagreement between him and the Stake President - but at that moment I felt like both Dad and I had been scorned and set aside. However, I sucked it up and found Dad in the foyer, just as another Ward had ended their Sunday School services. The foyer was jammed with people, but it was sweet / strange - it seemed like Dad & I were all alone there. I walked up to Dad, he could tell I was upset about something, and threw my arms around him. He was 5' 10" and I was 6' 1", so my arms were mostly around his head. Tears came to my eyes and I tried to speak.

Now Dad had been deaf in his left ear since childhood (ear infection burst his ear drum), and you learned to always walk or sit on his right side if you wished for him to hear you. So with my arms wrapped mostly around his ears, and his being deaf in the left one (and my mouth was on his left side as we embraced), he asked me to tell him again what was upsetting me. I looked him in the eye and told him that the Stake President would not approve of him being voice in my ordination. I then embraced him again and we both cried for a while - just standing there in the milling crowd of church goers. It was a shared moment between a Father and a Son that no one else can probably identify with - but it was poignant to us both because we both felt that we had disappointed the other, and it was heart rending because we had gotten conflicting opinions / approvals / disapprovals from the others involved. We spoke privately there in the foyer to each other, with apologies and regrets, not just as Father and Son - but as men who had worked together and really knew each other, and from that day on were each others best friend. We finally pulled ourselves together and went down the hall to accomplish what we had come for. He stood in the circle. He was always in the circle for me, coaching me, encouraging me, loving me. My Dad was my best friend.

Top Three Experiences With my Dad

By popular request, I am going to tackle the first of my topics in this post. Audra and Chrissy asked for me to post what "my top three experiences with my Dad" were. First let me say that I was very lucky to have had many years of shared experiences with my father and have myriad special memories of events we shared. I can never do justice to picking only three - but will attempt to stick to my guns and relate in this post only one of the three diverse and poignant experiences with my best friend ever.

First - I must admit that I always knew my Dad was "there" as a parent. I did have lots of interaction with him from birth on - but the first real memory of him helping ONLY me (really focused on me!) was when I was in first grade (I will attach the class photo - ha, ha!). Back in the day, we made a "Valentine's box" and decorated it to take to school. Our classmates would bring Valentine's cards for all of their friends and put them in the respective boxes. Obviously we were all excited when ever we would get an envelope with those candy hearts that had "Love" or "Friend" imprinted in them. Well anyway, Mom had sent me down to the local grocery store (it seemed like I was constantly going there for her) to fetch a discarded cardboard box. So that night after supper, Dad and Mom were sitting in the living room talking while Morgan, Nancee and I played - or in my case fixed up my Valentine's box. The short story is that I cut far too many holes in the wrong places and thoroughly ruined my box (or so I thought). I was sitting there trying to hold back the tears while Mom laughed at me. Dad came over and asked me what I was working on and I explained. I was so upset because we were to bring our boxes to school the next day and I had no time to obtain another box and get it decorated. He asked if he could help and I handed him the shredded mess. Within 15 minutes he had retrieved my honor with masking tape and some very creative resizing of the box. I was astonished, proud of my smart Dad and very pleased that Susan Weight would have a slot in a box from Dennis to shove her loving Valentine's Card into!!! The next two post will continue my "top" list with Dad. Thanks for reading. By the way - which one is Dennis and which one is Susan?

Its A New Year! Hooray!

Welcome to 2009! I resolve to make a least a monthly (and hopefully a weekly) blog post this year. There will be more details coming - however I'd like to hear from you as to subjects you would like to see me address. This blog is obviously meant for my closest family and friends, so most of Grey Bear's reminiscing will be on funny insights into the past family history. So here we go - shoot me a comment back and list your top three subjects you'd like to see me tackle in future postings:

1. My favorite Uncle (he really was cool)
   
2. Cherry Pie Revisited (its time to refresh the memory banks for Chrissy - she never hears enough stories about herself, ahahhah)
   
3. My best dog
4. My favorite grandchild (just joking)
5. My favorite child (just joking)
6. The best sport
7. Best Vacation
8. Most influential teachers / and what they taught me (all my kids met him - but they won't remember)
   
9. Greatest Pain
10. Top three experiences with my Dad
11. Top three experiences with my Mom
12. My favorite Brother (no joking)
13. My favorite Sister
14. Shut up Dad and don't say anything
15. Smallest fish I ever caught - oops, its shown above!
    

So be prepared for when you turn 55, you begin to look back and recall the major events in your life. You also realize that no one wants to put up with your story telling - but you still want to share. I guess that comes from all those years listening to your kids. You finally reach a stage when you are going to tell you stories, whether anyone wants to listen or not. So let me know what you want to hear or not hear first! Ha, ha, - cause I'm going to say something - it may as well be something you want to hear.

Commitment Ceremony - 8/23/08

My Honey Bear, Willy and I had a "commitment ceremony" on Saturday, August 23, 2008. Willy and I have know each other since March 2008 and have found great love and friendship with each other. She is also great with my sister, Nancee! Willy has been a widow for the past 2 1/2 years. Since she would lose her widow's benefits and since I'm not looking to rush into another marriage any time soon, we've still agreed to share our lives. I have been attending the St. John's Episcopal Church with Willy for months and so we asked our interim Priest, Pastor Sally to conduct a "commitment ceremony" at my home on Willy's birthday. It was great, we had only a small group of friends and family attend. Love and Happy Holiday's to all - Merry Christmas!

Dennis & Willy - August 23, 2008