Birthday time is coming up for Brooke on the third. As I look back on my life I will admit that my daughters have given me great joy and satisfaction. Brooke is our second daughter and has been a bundle of energy from day one. Well, maybe after she learned to start talking and walking. Brooke has such a love for people and for animals. For those of you who know my feelings about animals, you should know I am envious for the empathy and concern Brooke has for all creatures. Brooke has such a bubbly personality and uplifting character that I can't help but be proud to be her father when all who know her say they consider her to be an example to them of how to all types of people should be treated. Brooke, I love you and hope your birthday is wonderful.
All you others can add a post for her now..........
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Sunday, January 27, 2008
We weren't angels/Roadblock
One day we decided to build a roadblock Dean-boy style. It seems every place we lived there was a wood pile of discarded boards, many of which had nails in them. We got the great idea we could drag those pieces of wood out into the road and lay them end to end, all the way across the road with the nails poking up. After doing this we had planned to sit and wait until someone drove over the nails and flattened a tire or two. In our minds we could see this being a very funny event and had decided we’d laugh out loud at anyone dumb enough to drive onto our spiked road block. Victor, the oldest brother at age 9, Dennis and I strategically placed the nail infested boards end to end across both lanes of traffic and then went to our spot to wait for all the action to begin. We waited and waited and waited.....Unfortunately for us, or maybe I should say FORTUNATELY for us, Mancos isn’t a bustling town so no one gave us a chance to see if our clever plan would actually work. Not a single car or truck drove by. I remember getting bored of the wait and we moved on to some other imbecilic activity. It only occurred to me now that those boards might still be there…I don’t remember moving them off the road.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Early memories
One of the earliest memories I have is from the time we were living in the theater in Mancos after having moved there from Denver. To get to our living area we would have to walk a tall flight of stairs that led from the street level up to the wide open audience area of the theater which we called our home. The particular area we were living in was the dressing area behind the stage. As children are prone to do, I’d consider it a personal challenge to race Dennis to see who could get to the top of those stairs first. I was closing in on my fifth birthday. Dennis was 21 months older than I was and being such, he should have won every race. Still, no matter how many times we did it the race would go something like this: Dennis would take an early lead befitting his age and body size compared to me, but at less than halfway up the stairs he would have most of his strength spent and I would start gaining ground. At the ¾ mark we would be even and Dennis would put forth an extra human effort to hold off my charge, but it wouldn’t be enough. In the last several steps I would pass him every time, leaving him disgusted and exasperated that no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t beat his little brother in a race up the stairs. This was just one of the early signs his body didn’t have the normal strength and development of a child his age and would soon lead to Mom and Dad taking him to a doctor to get an answer to questions they were already asking themselves.... Is there something physically wrong with our son?
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Excitement I Don't Remember/2
(If you missed the story of my finger and the chiropractor you'll want to go back and read that to appreciate this follow up post today)
After my hand had sufficiently healed, I decided I wanted to be a helper with Mom once again and do everything I could to help her make a batch of cookies. I was standing on a stool that had been placed next to the counter where all the baking ingredients awaited my helpful hands. I have always had a small body and short arms so I had to lean forward to get to a knife I was hoping to use. As I leaned forward, the laws of physics once again kicked into motion. My legs pushed the stool backwards away from my body which kicked in the law of gravity. This pulled my body downward causing me to hit my forehead on the counter with a big thud. My legs, now being freed from the stool, made a forward flight to the drawers and stopped there. Naturally, the top part of my body wanted to follow the stool, causing me to throw back my arms in an effort to catch my balance. This caused me to fall over backwards off the counter towards the tile floor. A body in motion tends to stay in motion until acted upon by another source. My body stopped falling as soon as it hit the tile floor, with the back of my head taking the brunt of the landing.
Mom reacted as quickly as she could, but was not near fast enough to save me from all these laws of physics that had acted upon me. The medical result from all this was that I had rendered myself unconscious. Mom thought I was dead when I didn’t move at all and yelled for her mother, Grandma Matlock, to come save us both. When the two of them checked me out they thought I was not breathing so Grandma Matlock came to the same conclusion as Mom, that I must be dying and action had to be taken.
Well, I was a child before CPR had been discovered, so rather than blow air into my lungs, the thought came into Grandma’s head that if she grabbed me by my heels and spun me around in a circle the blood would flow to my brain and I would regain consciousness. Before she could even think through the usefulness of this maneuver I was up in the air being spun around by my feet. After two circles she put me down to see if I was back to normal……..I wasn’t. I was still out cold, so it was decided it was time to go see Doctor Chiropractor again.
I was quickly bundled up and hauled to the doctor’s office and he commenced to decide if he had the proper talents to rectify the present medical problem I found myself in. After a very short look at me he said I was beyond his help and I needed to be taken to the hospital with all the speed Mom and Grandma could muster.
The closest hospital at the time was in Durango, so off we started for the 40 mile drive over the curves and hills. All the while it appeared I wasn’t breathing, but my color was still mostly natural so no one knew how close I was to death.
As might be expected, the drive seemed to last forever to Mom and Grandma, but being a child and in a coma it was not a worry for me. Of course, the fact that I’m sharing this story with you tells you I survived the drama of the day. Mom says I finally fluttered my eyes and regained some consciousness as she was carrying me through the parking lot and a few raindrops hit my face to help bring me back from my hour long, self induced nap.
After my hand had sufficiently healed, I decided I wanted to be a helper with Mom once again and do everything I could to help her make a batch of cookies. I was standing on a stool that had been placed next to the counter where all the baking ingredients awaited my helpful hands. I have always had a small body and short arms so I had to lean forward to get to a knife I was hoping to use. As I leaned forward, the laws of physics once again kicked into motion. My legs pushed the stool backwards away from my body which kicked in the law of gravity. This pulled my body downward causing me to hit my forehead on the counter with a big thud. My legs, now being freed from the stool, made a forward flight to the drawers and stopped there. Naturally, the top part of my body wanted to follow the stool, causing me to throw back my arms in an effort to catch my balance. This caused me to fall over backwards off the counter towards the tile floor. A body in motion tends to stay in motion until acted upon by another source. My body stopped falling as soon as it hit the tile floor, with the back of my head taking the brunt of the landing.
Mom reacted as quickly as she could, but was not near fast enough to save me from all these laws of physics that had acted upon me. The medical result from all this was that I had rendered myself unconscious. Mom thought I was dead when I didn’t move at all and yelled for her mother, Grandma Matlock, to come save us both. When the two of them checked me out they thought I was not breathing so Grandma Matlock came to the same conclusion as Mom, that I must be dying and action had to be taken.
Well, I was a child before CPR had been discovered, so rather than blow air into my lungs, the thought came into Grandma’s head that if she grabbed me by my heels and spun me around in a circle the blood would flow to my brain and I would regain consciousness. Before she could even think through the usefulness of this maneuver I was up in the air being spun around by my feet. After two circles she put me down to see if I was back to normal……..I wasn’t. I was still out cold, so it was decided it was time to go see Doctor Chiropractor again.
I was quickly bundled up and hauled to the doctor’s office and he commenced to decide if he had the proper talents to rectify the present medical problem I found myself in. After a very short look at me he said I was beyond his help and I needed to be taken to the hospital with all the speed Mom and Grandma could muster.
The closest hospital at the time was in Durango, so off we started for the 40 mile drive over the curves and hills. All the while it appeared I wasn’t breathing, but my color was still mostly natural so no one knew how close I was to death.
As might be expected, the drive seemed to last forever to Mom and Grandma, but being a child and in a coma it was not a worry for me. Of course, the fact that I’m sharing this story with you tells you I survived the drama of the day. Mom says I finally fluttered my eyes and regained some consciousness as she was carrying me through the parking lot and a few raindrops hit my face to help bring me back from my hour long, self induced nap.
Thursday, January 17, 2008
I have never felt so humbled....
Being at the side of my wonderful wife at the birth of all three of our daughters was a most wonderful experience. As I was able to take each of them into my hands and look into their newborn faces I must admit that at no other time in my life have I felt more humble. To know that each of them would look to me the rest of their lives for guidance and that I had the immense responsibility of watching over them for decades humbled me as well.
Amy, our oldest has her birthday on the 19th. Might I say of Amy that I have gained much strength from her as she has withstood some of the hardest challenges life can throw at any of us and has come through with a positive attitude and the willingness to still give back to people in her life. Amy is excited about life and the future. Amy I love you and hope to be around for many more of your birthdays...Dad
You others can give her what ever wish you want as a comment
Amy, our oldest has her birthday on the 19th. Might I say of Amy that I have gained much strength from her as she has withstood some of the hardest challenges life can throw at any of us and has come through with a positive attitude and the willingness to still give back to people in her life. Amy is excited about life and the future. Amy I love you and hope to be around for many more of your birthdays...Dad
You others can give her what ever wish you want as a comment
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Excitement I don't remember.....
While Dad was on military assignment in Korea, Mom, Vic, Dennis and I stayed with my Grandma Matlock in her house Mancos, Colorado. This is a story Mom has related to me when I was two years old or so.
It seems in Mancos the only doctor was a chiropractor. A man of some medical training, but not fully prepared for the visits I made to him.
One day Mom was doing the laundry and I wanted to be a good helper. I was my usual curious self and I was looking up under the washing machine trying to figure out what made all the noise and why the crazy thing vibrated the way it did. The actual engine that makes a washing machine a washing machine has fan belts and pulleys of course. Having the mind set that I did, I decided to see if I could stop the machine by stopping the fan belt, so I grabbed a hold of the belt in an attempt to stop it. Not being fully schooled in the laws of physics I immediately learned the pull of the fan belt was stronger than the resistance of my fingers and the belt pulled my hand up and through the pulley severing off the top of the ring finger on my right hand.
Mom immediately halted her washing duties, put the top of my finger back into place as best she could and hurried me over to the chiropractor to see if his talents were good enough to sew the top of my finger into its natural place.
Although he was not a true medical doctor he got many calls like this for his services. If the situation was one he thought he could handle he made use of his talents and rectified the problem. If it was beyond his talents he would tell the patient (or my case--Mom) they needed to go see a more qualified medical person. Now I ask you, how hard can it be to sew the top of a toddler’s finger back into place anyway?
Mom had washing to get back to and didn’t need any further delays, so Dr. Chiropractor got his sewing materials together and spliced the tip of my finger back into its proper place. After all these years there is still the scar of the stitches to go along with the scar of my severed finger. I think he did a mighty fine job because I have full feeling in every part of that finger and it grew back together nice and straight. Thanks Doc.
It seems in Mancos the only doctor was a chiropractor. A man of some medical training, but not fully prepared for the visits I made to him.
One day Mom was doing the laundry and I wanted to be a good helper. I was my usual curious self and I was looking up under the washing machine trying to figure out what made all the noise and why the crazy thing vibrated the way it did. The actual engine that makes a washing machine a washing machine has fan belts and pulleys of course. Having the mind set that I did, I decided to see if I could stop the machine by stopping the fan belt, so I grabbed a hold of the belt in an attempt to stop it. Not being fully schooled in the laws of physics I immediately learned the pull of the fan belt was stronger than the resistance of my fingers and the belt pulled my hand up and through the pulley severing off the top of the ring finger on my right hand.
Mom immediately halted her washing duties, put the top of my finger back into place as best she could and hurried me over to the chiropractor to see if his talents were good enough to sew the top of my finger into its natural place.
Although he was not a true medical doctor he got many calls like this for his services. If the situation was one he thought he could handle he made use of his talents and rectified the problem. If it was beyond his talents he would tell the patient (or my case--Mom) they needed to go see a more qualified medical person. Now I ask you, how hard can it be to sew the top of a toddler’s finger back into place anyway?
Mom had washing to get back to and didn’t need any further delays, so Dr. Chiropractor got his sewing materials together and spliced the tip of my finger back into its proper place. After all these years there is still the scar of the stitches to go along with the scar of my severed finger. I think he did a mighty fine job because I have full feeling in every part of that finger and it grew back together nice and straight. Thanks Doc.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
We weren't angels/Roberta part2
When Berta had been newly potty trained and was aware of the fact when any of us, her brothers, went potty we did so standing up, she asked why she had to sit down when she went potty. We informed her she could stand up as well if she wanted and the next time she had to go potty she should let us watch. (It wasn’t because we were perverts) The next time she felt the urge, she invited us to watch. We howled with laughter when she puddled down her legs and onto the floor. She was sooooo proud, she had to grab Mom and show her what a big girl she was now. Our howls turned to whimpers when we saw Mom coming. She was more amused than angry so we all had a good laugh at Roberta’s expense.
Saturday, January 12, 2008
We weren't angels/Roberta
When Roberta was nearing the age of 3 I figured she was fair game for one of my first pranks.
We had a kitchen sink with a slow drip. In order to keep the area under the sink dry, we had a bucket positioned to catch the dripping water. As I recall, it was my duty to take the bucket out and dump it every day and then replace it back under the sink. True to my procrastinating nature, I went a day or two without emptying the bucket. When it occurred to me to check on my assigned container I found it full to the brim with water, ready to overflow. Berta happened to be standing by me when I did this bucket check and she stood close, looking at me with a vacant stare. One of those, “I don’t know what you are trying to do, but I’m going to watch you anyway” looks.
I thought this a good time to test her naiveté.
“You can see this bucket is full can’t you Berta?” I said as I began to lay the plot. She shook her head yes.
“Do you know why I am supposed to empty the bucket?” I asked, knowing she had no clue why. She shook her head no.
“If this bucket overflows, the water will get out onto the floor and we will all drown.” I said in full seriousness.
“Do you see how full it is now? I think I’ve waited too long. It will soon overflow and then we’ll all die,” I passed on to her, awaiting her reaction."
She still had that blank stare on her face. I wasn’t sure she fully understood the meaning of death, drowning or any other d-word for that matter. I could see if this plot was to take hold I had to insert some drama.
“Here Berta, help me move this bucket out so we can empty it,” I asked of her. “Be sure not to spill any water because then we will really be in trouble."
The look on her face changed from a vacant stare to instant apprehension---“be in trouble”---now those were words she could relate with.
As we struggled with the bucket, a goodly amount of water spilled out onto the floor. It was an amount I could easily mop up with a rag or two, but this was the exact moment I was waiting for. In an overly dramatic manner I said, “Oh no!! Now we are in trouble! We’ve got water on the floor and we are all going to drown!"
I stepped in the water, pretended to be overcome by some mystical power it held, and I fell to the floor trying my best to act as if I were in a life or death fight to save myself from the middle of the ocean. It was my intent to make Berta think I was drowning. It worked. In fact, it worked too well!! She broke into an hysterical shriek and began to wail, after all, she knew she was really in trouble now. Not only had we spilled some water, but I was overcome by some water demon.
It took Mom merely seconds to come galloping into the kitchen to rescue her screaming daughter. It was long enough to allow me to stand up, but not long enough to get over to Berta and stuff a rag into her mouth. Had Roberta had sufficient vocabulary to tell Mom what had happened I’m sure I would have gotten a good paddling for this prank. Mom first asked Berta what was wrong, but she just whimpered and cried a little more, offering no words at all. I’m sure I had a huge look of guilt on my face, but when Mom asked me what had happened I shrugged my shoulders and tried to look dumb (most all you know it is easy for me to look dumb). I must have had the look of a complete idiot as no discipline was meted out to me or Roberta. I think Mom was relieved no one was bleeding.She took the bucket of water out and dumped it herself.
We had a kitchen sink with a slow drip. In order to keep the area under the sink dry, we had a bucket positioned to catch the dripping water. As I recall, it was my duty to take the bucket out and dump it every day and then replace it back under the sink. True to my procrastinating nature, I went a day or two without emptying the bucket. When it occurred to me to check on my assigned container I found it full to the brim with water, ready to overflow. Berta happened to be standing by me when I did this bucket check and she stood close, looking at me with a vacant stare. One of those, “I don’t know what you are trying to do, but I’m going to watch you anyway” looks.
I thought this a good time to test her naiveté.
“You can see this bucket is full can’t you Berta?” I said as I began to lay the plot. She shook her head yes.
“Do you know why I am supposed to empty the bucket?” I asked, knowing she had no clue why. She shook her head no.
“If this bucket overflows, the water will get out onto the floor and we will all drown.” I said in full seriousness.
“Do you see how full it is now? I think I’ve waited too long. It will soon overflow and then we’ll all die,” I passed on to her, awaiting her reaction."
She still had that blank stare on her face. I wasn’t sure she fully understood the meaning of death, drowning or any other d-word for that matter. I could see if this plot was to take hold I had to insert some drama.
“Here Berta, help me move this bucket out so we can empty it,” I asked of her. “Be sure not to spill any water because then we will really be in trouble."
The look on her face changed from a vacant stare to instant apprehension---“be in trouble”---now those were words she could relate with.
As we struggled with the bucket, a goodly amount of water spilled out onto the floor. It was an amount I could easily mop up with a rag or two, but this was the exact moment I was waiting for. In an overly dramatic manner I said, “Oh no!! Now we are in trouble! We’ve got water on the floor and we are all going to drown!"
I stepped in the water, pretended to be overcome by some mystical power it held, and I fell to the floor trying my best to act as if I were in a life or death fight to save myself from the middle of the ocean. It was my intent to make Berta think I was drowning. It worked. In fact, it worked too well!! She broke into an hysterical shriek and began to wail, after all, she knew she was really in trouble now. Not only had we spilled some water, but I was overcome by some water demon.
It took Mom merely seconds to come galloping into the kitchen to rescue her screaming daughter. It was long enough to allow me to stand up, but not long enough to get over to Berta and stuff a rag into her mouth. Had Roberta had sufficient vocabulary to tell Mom what had happened I’m sure I would have gotten a good paddling for this prank. Mom first asked Berta what was wrong, but she just whimpered and cried a little more, offering no words at all. I’m sure I had a huge look of guilt on my face, but when Mom asked me what had happened I shrugged my shoulders and tried to look dumb (most all you know it is easy for me to look dumb). I must have had the look of a complete idiot as no discipline was meted out to me or Roberta. I think Mom was relieved no one was bleeding.She took the bucket of water out and dumped it herself.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
We weren't angels/Vic
As a five year old child I would spend an afternoon at the theater with my older brothers Vic and Dennis. One particular afternoon we headed off to see some monster marathon and upon entering the movie house I had been inflicted with a mild case of laryngitis. I knew it would be useless to scream at any movie monsters, so during the shows I was content to just sit in my chair as tense as a frozen log in winter.As we exited the theater and started on our way home we passed Mrs. Johnson, an energetic, happy old lady who greeted us with..."Hello boys".
We had been taught to be polite and that a return address was expected, so I tried to get out a "Hello Mrs. Johnson" of my own to mind my manners.
To my surprise, the greeting came out full of energy and in strong voice. It seemed my laryngitis was miraculously gone. In a joyous state I walked along the street continuing in my polite mode..."Hello Mrs. Johnson...good morning...hi there..."
I was talking out loud to no one as a result of the surprising rediscovery of my voice.Vic and Dennis had slowed to a near stop and let me continue on ahead of them, much amuzed at my babbling conversation with an invisible woman. After five seconds of walking and talking I realized there was a good round of laughing going on behind me. When I turned and realized my brothers were having a good laugh at my expense I became immdiately outraged and ran back to inflict a wound on their laughing lips.Dennis was closer to my age and height so I was going to hit him first. I reached my arm back and was getting ready to land a big, right handed haymaker when Vic stepped in to save Dennis. Vic caught my hand in flight towards Dennis's mouth and easily pushed me up against the store building we were passing by. This only enraged me more so I took a swing at Vic with my left arm that was free. I hit him only once in the chest when he took my left arm and also pinned it up against the building. I had a nasty reputation as being a volcano as a little child and was not about to let this chaining of my arms end my angry eruption, so I started kicking Vic in the shins as violently as I good seeing how I couldn't hit him with my arms. Vic had been in battles with me before and knew how to counter act the flailing of my legs. He simply pushed his knees into my legs, thus completely nailing me to the side of the building.
There we were, the three, hardly united Musketeers. I was completely harnessed now by Vic physically, but still had another weapon ready to unleash upon him. My mouth was now working very well as the laryngitis had disappeared and I stuck my face forward and shouted out as loudly as I could...
"Shit!!!"
Vic's face had an instant look of shock. I could see I now had the upper hand.
"Shit! Shit! Shit!"
I started yelling out as loudly as I could.Vic would have none of this profanity so he let go of my right hand so he could cover my mouth to shut me up. With my hand now free I started pummeling his face as best I could to get my anger out of me and inflict some just punishment. Again, Vic found himself in a dilemma. Should he uncover my mouth and protect himself? Of course he should!!! I was now beating the crap out of him.
When Vic grabbed my hand to push it back against the building to save himself I started with my profanities again...
"Shit shit shit..."
There was no winning the battle for Vic so he let me go completely and backed away about five feet. I was steaming mad, but had used up about all the energy I had left so I just stood there looking at both Vic and Dennis. Dennis had been a bystander through this short war Vic and I had just waged and was the first one to start in with conversation.
"I'm going to tell Mom and Dad...."
I knew I was in trouble.My anger subsided immediately as I made a plan of how I was going to run away from home...it seemed the only way I could escape the long arm of parental law.
We had been taught to be polite and that a return address was expected, so I tried to get out a "Hello Mrs. Johnson" of my own to mind my manners.
To my surprise, the greeting came out full of energy and in strong voice. It seemed my laryngitis was miraculously gone. In a joyous state I walked along the street continuing in my polite mode..."Hello Mrs. Johnson...good morning...hi there..."
I was talking out loud to no one as a result of the surprising rediscovery of my voice.Vic and Dennis had slowed to a near stop and let me continue on ahead of them, much amuzed at my babbling conversation with an invisible woman. After five seconds of walking and talking I realized there was a good round of laughing going on behind me. When I turned and realized my brothers were having a good laugh at my expense I became immdiately outraged and ran back to inflict a wound on their laughing lips.Dennis was closer to my age and height so I was going to hit him first. I reached my arm back and was getting ready to land a big, right handed haymaker when Vic stepped in to save Dennis. Vic caught my hand in flight towards Dennis's mouth and easily pushed me up against the store building we were passing by. This only enraged me more so I took a swing at Vic with my left arm that was free. I hit him only once in the chest when he took my left arm and also pinned it up against the building. I had a nasty reputation as being a volcano as a little child and was not about to let this chaining of my arms end my angry eruption, so I started kicking Vic in the shins as violently as I good seeing how I couldn't hit him with my arms. Vic had been in battles with me before and knew how to counter act the flailing of my legs. He simply pushed his knees into my legs, thus completely nailing me to the side of the building.
There we were, the three, hardly united Musketeers. I was completely harnessed now by Vic physically, but still had another weapon ready to unleash upon him. My mouth was now working very well as the laryngitis had disappeared and I stuck my face forward and shouted out as loudly as I could...
"Shit!!!"
Vic's face had an instant look of shock. I could see I now had the upper hand.
"Shit! Shit! Shit!"
I started yelling out as loudly as I could.Vic would have none of this profanity so he let go of my right hand so he could cover my mouth to shut me up. With my hand now free I started pummeling his face as best I could to get my anger out of me and inflict some just punishment. Again, Vic found himself in a dilemma. Should he uncover my mouth and protect himself? Of course he should!!! I was now beating the crap out of him.
When Vic grabbed my hand to push it back against the building to save himself I started with my profanities again...
"Shit shit shit..."
There was no winning the battle for Vic so he let me go completely and backed away about five feet. I was steaming mad, but had used up about all the energy I had left so I just stood there looking at both Vic and Dennis. Dennis had been a bystander through this short war Vic and I had just waged and was the first one to start in with conversation.
"I'm going to tell Mom and Dad...."
I knew I was in trouble.My anger subsided immediately as I made a plan of how I was going to run away from home...it seemed the only way I could escape the long arm of parental law.
Sunday, January 6, 2008
We weren't angels
When I was months within my 5th birthday we made a move from Denver down to Mancos, Colorado where I spent my youth. We Dean boys would start our reputation of being energetic and unsupervised. Without a job at the time, Dad and the family had to take whatever shelter we could find so the first spot we lived in when we moved to Mancos was in the town theater. It was a theater for live productions and our living quarters were in the back dressing rooms and the areas behind the stage. It was very roomy, but sure wasn't what you would call a home. The theater itself was right in the middle of town and the part we lived in was on the second story. We made all parts of the theater our playground.Still, there was the whole world of Mancos outside the theater that was waiting for my brothers and me to explore. We had been forbidden to leave the confines of the theater, so we contented ourselves at opening up the windows that over looked the main street of Mancos. The entire theater was on the second level so we had as high a view point as anyone in the whole town when we looked out from these windows. We would spy on the different people as they walked up and down the street and gaze down on the tops of the passing cars. And then, of course, we had one of those amazing flashes of Dean boy ingenuity that seemed to pop into our heads at a moments notice. How much practice would it take to actually be able to spit on someone from the second level of a building? It was a question Dennis, my older brother by two years, and I wanted an immediate answer for so we commenced to start spitting at everyone who passed under the windows. At first we were spitting way too late as the little bombs of saliva would land on the sidewalk far behind any unsuspecting pedestrian. We used our common sense to time our spit so the saliva bombs and the walking human target arrived at a certain point at the same time. When we finally perfected our spit drop attack we found it necessary to perfect our retreating method. We never actually hit anyone as I recall, but there was one particular lady that almost got hit. The projectile of saliva must have missed her by inches, coming down right in front of her face, causing her to stop immediately in her tracks. Dennis and I had our heads well outside the window looking down on our little battlefield below us. Our lack of common sense about the law of gravity didn’t worry us any and the thought that the lady might look up and see us gawking out that 2nd story window didn’t occur to us either….until she started craning her head up skyward to see if there were any clouds in the sky!!! Our hearts started an immediate pounding and we pulled our heads back into the safety of the theater faster than I ever thought we could move. We sat there just inside the window for maybe 5 minutes to see if the lady would walk up the long flight of stairs into the theater and give us a verbal or physical lashing for our antics……she never arrived and we stopped our aerial assault on the townspeople of Mancos…..for a day or two.
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