You'll poke your eye out kid!!!

It must have been the fact I had already made a bit too much trouble so my parents decided to get me into Cub Scouts to make better use of my time. Along with the membership in the new pack they presented me with this itty bitty pocket knife that might have been maybe one inch long unfolded. As with any toy I wanted to go outside immediately and try it out so off I ran into the front yard to carve my name into the front tree. Mom must have watched my quick travel because she forbade me to do any carving into a tree we didn't own.Not to be deterred I ran into the back yard to cut up the biggest weed I could find. I was sure she wouldn't mind if I destroyed a weed or two, she was always bemoaning the fact they grew faster than she could pull them anyway. I found one that was taller than I was, grabbed it high and pulled it down in front of me to start my attack. I placed that half inch blade on the back side of the weed and started sawing away and pulling on the knife to make sure it cut through the meat of that weed. I was putting my all into the effort and could see I was making progress. That weed was as good as dead. I could see I was almost all the way through so I put some added muscle into the thrusts.ZIP came the knife through the last of the weed and the momentum of my hand made me smack myself in the eye. The only trouble with this, was the knife was still in my hand so it was more than a smack...I had stabbed myself with that little blade. Lucky for me it was a little blade or it might have gone all the way to my brain which never had yet figured out when a dangerous situation was arriving.I immediately dropped the knife and cupped my hand over my eye. I could feel liquid oozing into my hand so I held my head back to make sure my brains didn't flow out of the wound as well. "I've poked my eye out!!" I thought to myself and immediately wondered how I was going to hide this one from Mom and Dad. I didn't really feel much pain considering how much pain I usually had when I got even the littlest piece of dirt in my eye, so I lowered my head a bit and opened my eye to look through the cracks of my fingers.I could still see!! I closed my right eye to make sure that indeed, this now wounded eye was able to see on its own...it was working just fine. I pushed my finger harder against my eyeball to see how much liquid had leaked out of my eye and I was thrilled to find it still felt firm and in place.I could see my hand was covered in blood so I figured the next step was to get in front of a mirror to actually see what the damage was. As I did this after sneaking into and through the house to the bathroom, I figured I stabbed through the eyelid and the blade went a short distance over the top of my eyeball and into the eye socket doing no more damage than cutting the hole through my eyelid.I washed off the blood and pressed the wash cloth against the wound until it had fully stopped bleeding and then it dawned on me that I had lost the knife.Oh oh...now I'm going to be in big, big trouble because I had lost the knife on the very first day it had been given to me. I quickly made my way back out to the weed patch and found my little knife laying at the base of the much shorter weed. I picked it up, folded the blade back into place and stashed the little thing into the coin pocket of my Levi's.It wasn't long after that I learned one of the first safety lessons of knife usage in the pack meeting...while using a knife, always cut away from your body...too late!! I already learned that lesson from personal experience.

My day with Mom

Today I spent the day with Mom getting her to grave sites of everyone that is buried in the area. When I went to pick her up in Tooele I found her sleeping soundly. I roused her and off we went. Lori's daughter Kim left a note saying Mom was so looking forward to getting out but that she has eaten mostly nothing for 2 days and will be very weak, which she was. I popped open a can of Pepsi for her and off we went. She held up well for the activities. I got off the center street exit in Provo and went to my store to get flowers for the grave.
Vic's daughter Amber works at the store now in the floral department so I sent her out to talk to Mom while I got the flowers. When I came out Amber turned her head away from Mom and started to cry...."I hate seeing her this way"....she said as she wiped the tears away. Mom does look all skin and bones. She is a petite woman anyway but now she looks all of her 85 years in a withered way. Amber gave us two bouquets of Gerber Daisies to put on the grave sites of Joel and Vic which we were happy to do.
After leaving the store we headed up to the court house building where Ron's office is. I had hoped to send Ron down for a visit with Mom much like I had done with Amber but his office was locked up and vacant....maybe for lunch...I'll have to talk to him later.
We went up to Dennis' grave first there in the Provo cemetery. I asked her when she had last been to his grave and she could not remember a visit there since he was buried but I know that is not correct because I have taken her there before.
Her conversation for the day was quite sharp and with good recollection until we started home and then it was evident I had tired her out with the activities of the day.
We stopped for gas before going to the Orem graves to see Vic, Joel, and Jayden.
As we visited each spot during the day Mom had no emotion at all. I was not quite sure what to expect but I was thinking she would show something at the site of Vic's head stone as she still feels his passing just was something she still can't accept...but she showed nothing.
On our way out of town I took Mom by to see Brooke. I don't know how many more chances we will have for that one last memory with Mom so Brooke came out from the middle of a hair client to smile at Mom and give her a little hug. I'd advise you all to make a visit if you can arrange it as well.
I asked her about all sorts of memories I have of past times but most of them she had no recollection of which only disappointed me a bit. It was just good to be with her for the day.
I got her back home and into her favorite chair, handed her the newspaper, thanked her for the days company and for being a great Mom.

Vic the hothead

Ron tells the story of a time when Vic was just entering the gymnasium in preparation for and upcoming church basketball game (church ball is notorious for bad sportsmanship unfortunately).
As he made his way across the side of the court there was a loudmouth player arguing loudly with the referee about a call that was made. Vic wanting to stick up for the referee yelled out,
"Give him a technical!"
To which the player responded, "Mind your own business".
This got Vic just a little peeved so he yelled back a bit louder, "Give him another technical"!!
At this point the obnoxious player started on his way over to Vic to have words with him as well.
When he got with in striking distance Vic let loose with a quick right handed punch which caught the would be trouble maker full in the face and fell back immediately on his back there on the basketball court.
Vic was thrown out of the building for his violence.
When Ron caught up with him later and was able to ask about him about it and asked him how he felt about it Vic said, "Actually, it felt pretty good...."
Vic the hot head!

The athlete of the family

Ron has made mention himself that one of the things that made Vic a hero to us was his athletic ability. Although he got the most notoriety from his football days...All Conference and 2nd Team All State...when high school was over, so was hit football career. Vic was good in basketball too during high school but lacked confidence in his ability and true talent he had for basketball.
Still, of all the sports basketball was the one he loved the most. He continued to play long after his high school days. He and I teamed up for Ward ball in Brigham City. With a more relaxed atmosphere and no pressure to win the conference title his basketball game bloomed and he exerted his natural ability well.
Years after graduating from Mancos High Vic found himself living back in Mancos again with his young family and the year he was there Mancos High had a player good enough to win All Conference honors himself for his talents. Vic found himself alone on the court with this young man and asked him if he would like a game of one on one with Vic. The young man, being competitive and always wanting to win replied..."Are you kidding? I'll eat your lunch!!!" as he accepted the challenge.
Vic took control of the game and schooled the youngster in basketball and then patted him on the shoulder and told him "Good game" after he had whupped him good.

Back to the bully

After having a better fight showing against Dickie, we had hoped that would be the end of the bullying that went on towards Dennis...we should have been so lucky.
Dickie picked a time when he had two of his buddies around to be mean to Dennis on his next attempt. Vic was feeling a bit bold with his newly practiced fighting skills so he jumped right in to defend Dennis again, but was not prepared to take on all three fighters at the same time. He got pummeled worse on this encounter than he did the first time and when Mom found out about it she did not loudly say "I told you I didn't think it a good idea to encourage the fighting mentality..." but I am sure it was very close to the tip of her tongue.
This interaction between Vic and Dickie happened over a period of months. All the while Dennis was getting weaker and weaker as Muscular Dystrophy sapped him of strength. The weaker Dennis got the less interest Dickie had in tormenting someone who was less and less being able to even walk, so there soon came a time when Dickie no longer tormented Dennis and Vic did not have to come to Dennis's rescue at all in this regard.
Still, this showed Vic's compassion for those in the world who are different, who are weak, who are teased and tormented by others. Of all us children Vic would be the one who got into the most fights and I can honestly say that the vast majority of the time it would be because he was protecting the rights of someone else. He not only rooted for the underdog, he was willing to fight for him.

Standing up to the bully

When Dad found out Vic had gotten in a fight protecting Dennis from the bully he decided it was time to help Vic out with the next encounter. His solution was to get some boxing gloves and teach Vic how to be a better fighter.
They would go out into the back yard and actually go at it in a mild manner with Dad giving pointers to Vic on the nuances of keeping your wits about you as you try to take your opponent out.
The next time Dickie came after Dennis in a bullying manner Vic was ready again to come to Dennis's defense. Vic and Dickie had a few words before engaging in hand to hand combat again.
Vic held his own this time and got in a few blows that made Dickie back away and retreat with a few bruises from the battle.
As we headed back home we were full of ourselves with excitement that the bully had been beaten at his own game and when we told Mom the good news she was less than thrilled. She didn't agree with Dad that promoting violence was the answer to this problem but was a bit at a loss as to how it all should be addressed.
When Dad found out about the encounter he was pleased and patted Vic on the back and said "Way to go son!!"
Even in my excitement I asked Dad if he could teach me how to fight. Thrilled at the prospect of me asking for improvement he put the boxing gloves on me, got down on his knees so we could be more eye to eye and he started giving me my first boxing lesson.
"Stand at an angle to me with your left hand kind of out in front of you to use for short punches he said."
"Keep your right hand back closer to her chin to protect your self from any in coming blows like this one," he instructed as he threw a very slow, right handed arching punch at me which I brushed aside for my safety.
"Good job," he said which made me beam while Dennis and Vic looked on.
"Now what you want to do is give me a quick jab with that left hand if you see an opening and just keep your mind calm so you don't get overly excited."
Dad then put his hands down on purpose to expose himself fully, giving me a wide open shot at his face.
"Go ahead and do that jab if you see an opening."
Dad was quite surprised when I let loose with a quick jab that caught him squarely on the nose and even made his head pop back some. His eyes watered up and a quick grin came across his face when he saw the look of terror on my face.
It was a dire sin to do any back talking to Mom or Dad and now that I had lashed out and actually attacked him with a vicious blow to his face....well, some how I had the instant vision that I had a big spanking coming to me even though Dad had encouraged me to hit him.
"You are quicker than I thought. You caught me by surprise with that jab. I'll be better prepared next time tiger," he said. I was much relieved.

Vic's Protective Nature

When Dennis had progressed significantly with Muscular Dystrophy it was very evident he was not normal. This made him an easy target for teasing and the designated mark for the school bully.
Dickie found it very amusing to come close to Dennis and brush up against him which would cause him to fall. It was intentional and Dickie got a big kick out of having power over Dennis with such and easy action.
Dickie was a year older than Vic, four years older than Dennis and six years older than me so he was at the top of the food chain in the local school we attended.
When it was just me and Dennis and Dickie wanted to be the bully nothing was done to him as he towered over us both.
Vic ,on the other hand, jumped right to Dennis's aid when he saw Dickie make him fall.
"What did you do that for?" Vic demanded.
"Because I can" was Dickie's reply.
"Why don't you pick on someone more your size?" Vic spit out.
"You are close to my size. You want to do something about it" Dickie shot back and the fight was on.
Dickie had been the school bully long enough to be ready for the fight Vic was willing to wage in Dennis's behalf ,so that first fight went rather badly for Vic. We all went home and when Vic presented himself and his split lip to Mom she got furious and Vic cried in having to admit that he was so mad at Dickie that he lost his temper.
There was more action in this regard so I'll post the next part soon.

Another Movie Day Adventure

As a five year old child I would spend an afternoon at the theater with my older brothers Vic and Dennis. Those early childhood times spent with my brothers are some of the best memories of my life. 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.

Our special movie day time

Going to watch a matinee movie was always a special treat. I suppose like many of you, there was a special day in the month when Vic, Dennis and I were allowed to spend an afternoon in the movie house watching an assortment of monster movies, westerns and an occasional mystery movie. There were a few preliminaries that we always indulged in as we made our preparations for such expeditions. I always have considered myself a normal person so please let me know if you did the same thing I did. First, we always made sure we had our slingshots in our back pockets. Secondly, before entering the show house we would stop at the neighborhood store and buy all the chewing gum we could with what little extra money we had. Third, we'd try to get up into one of the chairs at the front of the theater. Now we are ready for the fun so let the show begin. As the lights darkened and the movie came up on the screen we would pop one of the pieces of chewing gum into my mouth. I always loved the first bites of chewing gum. All that sugar separating itself from the gum and making its delicious trip down into my stomach. You know how fast that sugar leaves though and then you are left with this tasteless bullet of gum in your mouth. Did I say bullet? Of course I did, that is why we would always bring our slingshots along. After much of the sugar was gone from the gum it left a perfect little projectile that fit nicely into the leather tongue of my slingshot. The theater was always dark enough that we could aim the slingshot from my hip and launch my gum wad up at the theater screen and no one was any the wiser that some dastardly deed had just been committed. Most times we couldn't tell if our gum wad even made it up to the screen. If it arrived, did it stick? If it did stick, was it on a brown tree or the black monster? We usually couldn't tell. During one western starring, John Wayne I hit right on target. It was one of those close-up scenes where John Wayne's face covered the entire screen. I pulled back the rubber strings on my slingshot and let go with a very fine blob of gooey gum. Suddenly out of no where, John Wayne had a new mole on the left side of his forehead above his eye. If you had been there that day it wouldn't have been a noticeable addition to his features but, I saw it immediately. That was the day I got the better of John Wayne. Early movie days with Vic are leaving me with a warm nostalgia today.

Remembering Vic--One of those irritating sayings

Vic would have been close to being a teenager for this one and he had this very irritating saying that he repeated for dumb acts. It is probably because I am the champion of dumb acts so he used it on me often.
Like one time when I was not holding the garbage bag securely as I was doing my chore of taking it out. The bag ripped and fell from my hands onto the floor. Rather than come over and help me in my time of immense trial Vic clapped his hands in appreciation of my dumb act and half way shouted out..."Smooth move Exlax"...
I think all of us might have a phase we remember going through when we acted in a similar manner to this and had some catchy phrase we used on others.
Well, like I said, Vic used this one regularly on me so I shouldn't have to inform anyone it made me seethe with anger.
One evening at the dinner table Vic reached up and over his plate to get more of whatever delicacy we were eating for the night and he knocked over his milk. Not wanting to pass on the event I jumped to my feet so as to give him a standing ovation and repeated his own works...
"Smooth move Exlax"... but I was not content to make it a mere casual statement. I said it loud but not in a yelling mode..."SMOOTH MOVE EXLAXXXXXXX" and I was heavy on the xxxxx.
Vic turned a sudden crimson color himself out of anger at being caught in his own belittling phrase and I know if I had been somewhere other than the exact opposite side of the table I would have gotten punched in the face.
Mom gave me a stern look herself for acting in such a manner at the dinner table and Dad had the most quizzacle look on his face as if to say..."What does that mean?"
Still it was a choice moment of comebacks in my revenge list and has stuck with me to this day.


Ahhhh how I would love to have him humiliate me one more time with it.....

That Dean boy streak

I remember the story being told of Vic when we were living with Grandma Matlock (Mom's mom)
It seems that things were might quiet around the house which is never a good sign with inquisitive toddlers. After a quick search to find him they discovered he was in the cupboard area under the kitchen sink and had stowed himself away with a bottle of Karo syrup that he had pretty much emptied onto his head and face.

Remembering Vic II

One of the stories Mom tells of Vic was shortly after Dennis was brought home as a new born.
Mom did one of those parental baby checks that new mothers make very regularly to check on her newborn Dennis as he was down for one of his daily sleeps.
She was very surprised to see Vic had gotten out a suit case and was getting ready to put Dennis inside of it. At this time Vic would have been closing in on three so it was not a safe thing for him to be lifting Dennis, let alone putting him in a suit case.
Mom said she wasn't sure if Vic was putting him in the suitcase to send him away out of jealousy or if he was planning on running away with his new best friend, but she stopped him from doing it no matter what his intentions were.

Remembering Vic

The day Vic was born was a very exciting time for Dad. You would have thought the veteran who had seen action at the end of WWII would have been a little more composed, but every time he told the story of the day Vic was born he would laugh at himself.
When Mom told him she was in labor and ready to go to the hospital, a big uneasyness set in for Dad. While Mom was out waiting in the car Dad ran back into the house to get some towels before tearing out of Mancos in a big roar to get Mom to the hospital in Durango.
Dad was going way over the speed limit which caught the attention of a waiting policeman who immediately started a chase that Dad would not stop for.
If it wasn't bad enough he was speeding, he than ran every red light and stop sign between him and the hospital.
As he pulled into the hospital parking lot with the policeman flashing his lights Dad refused to answer any of the questions being asked him as he tried to pull Mom out of the car and carry her inside.
I'm not sure the conversation that was going on between Mom and Dad during the drive from Mancos to Durango, but there in the parking lot Mom told him to quit acting like a lunatic and let her walk into the hospital so she could get to the task at hand of delivering a baby.
The first steps Mom made found Dad right behind her with his hands on her making sure she did not fall down. Again, Mom told him to leave her alone and the thought flashed through Dad's head he had not used those towels he threw into the back seat so he ran back to the car to get the towels while trying to negotiate with the policeman.
Dad ran back to Mom and was trying to figure out how to use the towels on her when she again told him to leave her alone. (Apparently he was way out of his comfort zone if he was not on the battle lines)
Dad said he did not know what to do with the towels so he threw them in the bushes outside the hospital doors as Mom was entering in.
Back in those days fathers had to wait outside the delivery room so Dad did much pacing while Mom was doing all the work of bringing their first son Victor Irwin Dean into the world.
Luckily for us all, Dad's over exciteability did not rub off on Vic and the rest of October 18th, 1947 was a happy, calmer day.

What child doesn’t have a story of a tree house while in their youth?
In our back yard was our tree house. Dennis was getting weaker as the MD progressed in his body, so we made sure the tree house was easily accessible. It was low in the tree and the steps leading up to it were wide and well secured to the tree. We had gotten a bb gun for Christmas the previous holiday and we were eager to find a bunker we could shoot it from. The tree house was perfect. It was cumbersome for Dennis to make several trips into the tree house, so we always made sure we had plenty of ammo to last us awhile each time we ventured into our bunker…which was often.
From the cover of our private club house we were safe to send a barrage of bullets upon any unsuspecting animal venturing into our shooting range. If a stray dog wandered close to our property we were quick to send him on his way yelping. The same was true for cats. Although we wouldn’t consider the sound they made to be a yelp. Many a bird met its maker when they would land in the tree that housed our bunker.
Even neighborhood animals have intelligence though and the visits from meandering dogs and cats grew more and more scarce as they learned they would get pelted if they came too close to the certain area that comprised the range of our gun. What is and army to do when they don’t have a foe to shoot at? We started shooting at something new.
Across the street and one lot to the east of our tree house was a business run my Mr. Zender. He had a repair shop where he worked on all manner of small engines and parts. He would work on some of my future lawn mowers from this very shop which now became our newest target. His entire building was made of galvanized sheeting through and through. From the door to the walls, from the floor to the roof, it was all galvanized sheeting. The sound of a bb hitting galvanized steel is quite resounding, so Mr. Zender could easily hear each bb that hit his building and echoed through out his shop. One day in every week was torment Mr. Zender day. From the privacy of our tree house we’d shoot a single shot onto the roof of his shop. The initial landing would make a very audible “ping” upon its landing. As the bb took its long, rolling trip down the inclined, corrugated roof, it made its own definite, tortuous sound. The sound would reverberate throughout his shop until it finally reached the bottom edge of the roof and fell harmlessly to the parking lot surrounding his building.We would shoot several rounds, one right after another to make the annoying sound triple in intensity to get a reaction from Mr. Zender. He would come running out from the inner sanctuary of his shop and peer up and down the road looking for the perpetrators of this hideous noise. We always made our salvos onto his roof when absolutely no one was around to heighten his frustration in not being able to find the guilty party. We would peer out the many knot holes in our tree house and watch as his head would rip from side to side in an attempt to locate us. Usually on the third trip Mr. Zender would yell some threat that if he ever caught us we would be sorry we were ever born. Such a threat would bring giggles out of us and make us stop shooting for a brief period. We made sure we had our sandwiches and drinks for lunch so if he were looking out the window hoping to find any slinking bodies, his resolve to find us wasn’t stronger than our hunger. In such fashion we vexed Mr. Zender many times, never getting caught.

Third Grade Follies

Carolyn was the cutest girl in the class and I was always doing some childhood stunt to get her attention. We didn't have any ink bottles at our desk I could put under her pig tails, nor did I have the dream-come-true opportunity of sitting behind her, so I always had to make my impressions during recess.
One particular day I caught sight of her just as recess was ending and she was hanging up her coat before entering the class room. As she stretched up to put that coat on the rung it caused her dress to hike up some and gave me a view of those mysterious under pants that us boys were never supposed to see. It was such a situation that made me burst out those famous lines I had learned from my perverted friends and brothers...
I see London, I see France
I see Carolyn's under pants
I thought it was a great ice breaker line, but Carolyn had a very different reception to what I had said. She must have been schooled by my younger sister Roberta...Carolyn immediately headed into the class room and told on me to Mrs. Eschelman who made a quick snap of her head in my direction and had a look of fire in her eyes...I didn't know those words could create such passion in women.
Mrs. Eschelman excused herself in front of all the class and grabbed ahold of my collar..."Let's take a visit to Mr. Smith young man" she said as we started in the direction of the principal's office.
I hadn't been to the principal's office before, but I had the feeling Mr. Smith was a pleasant man given the few interactions I had with him from previous school years. Still, I had never been delivered to him as a delinquent so I wasn't sure what to expect.Upon entering the door Mr. Smith stood up tall and gave a stern look our way. I'm sure the body language of Mrs. Eschelman and the fact my collar was still firmly in her grasp let him know I had been up to no good. (Another thing not in my favor was the fact my two older brothers had made themselves known at the principal's door before me as well)
"How can I help you Mrs. Eschelman?" was his queery.
"Ricky has been looking up Carolyn's dress and spouting embarrassing poetry" came her reply. "I've got to get back to my class. Send Ricky back when you are done" she commanded, she then spun and whisked herself back towards my fellow classmates and Carolyn.
Mr. Smith showed me the chair in front of his desk and asked me to be seated. He then shut the door. I knew I was in for then. Nothing good happens behinds closed doors does it?
"You were looking up a dress were you?" He asked intently.
"Yes sir" came my reply. I was hoping the extra bit of respect and politeness of "sir" would help me out a bit.
"Was it an accidental peek? Or were you kneeling down, pretending to tie your shoes kind of peek?"
I must of had an instant look of guilt on my face because I have to admit that I was fully bent at the waist trying to get the best view I could...I couldn't muster a reply but I knew Mr. Smith was now convinced of my answer.
"Are you going to make a habit of this in the future he asked?"
"No sir" was my quick response.
"You'd better get back to class then...and make sure I don't see you in here again"
I ran back to class in quick order. I must admit that I made several more trips back to Mr. Smith's office but never for looking at underwear or for reciting bad poetry.

I have a sudden flash back of the second grade and my student/teacher inter actions with Mrs. Bircher. She was a rotund lady that tried to teach and I was an energetic/curious student who tried not to learn. I always did seem to have an experiment that I wanted to try out and one day I had the grand idea of putting a thumb tack on the teachers chair to see if a rotund lady could actually jump up off her chair instead of slowly getting herself up as Mrs. Bircher always did. On the appointed day I got into class and put said thumbtack in the middle of her chair while she was up and about getting her supplies ready and then I went to my chair to watch how my experiment played out. Mrs. Bircher would almost always do her talking and teaching from her desk once she had sat down so I was anxious to see if that tack would change her style. My anticipation heightened as she neared her desk and began her descent towards that tack....PLOP...nothing. No reaction what so ever.I was disheartened. What happened or didn't happen as the case may be?
I had supposed she had sat down so perfectly that the tack ended up being placed where the crack in her behind was and the tack, being so short, didn't do its entended purpose.My solution was to try two tacks on my next attempt so such a result wouldn't happen again.The next day I followed through on the two tack plan and sat watching for the outcome ...PLOP...nothing. I couldn't believe it. Was this lady oblivious to pain? Had she endured this before and knew to just sit through it all to dumbfound curious students? Not to be deterred I decided to use 4 tacks to make certain the experiment was fool proof.I must confess in retrospect I was an idiot to start this experiment in the first place, so a whole lot of me is relieved to report that even with 4 tacks on the chair I didn't get to see if Mrs. Bircher was able to jump up. Still, I wonder what she was wearing that protected her from my stupid curiosity???

School Daze Confessions....

With school soon starting up again I'm sure all of us can easily draw up memories of those special days in those educational halls and classrooms. Here is the start of a few stories to show you what a special student I was....

With school starting up again soon, I couldn't help but go back in time to relate some of the events that traumatized me while in the rooms of education during my youth. Mrs. Morris was my first grade teacher and I had been warned by my older brothers, Vic and Dennis, that she was strict and sour in temperment. I don't remember that first day of school, but I do remember one isolated moment when I became the main focus for every set of eyes in my class. I had been assigned to sit near the back of the class and in the middle row of seats. This was usually a good area for me to either lean forward, sideways, or backwards so as to blend into the bodies around me so I couldn't be seen by Mrs. Morris. In this near hidden state I could pull the grasshoppers from my pockets or whatever entertainment item I had dragged along for the day. On this particular day I apparently had nothing to occupy my hands and mind, so I was careless in hiding myself from Mrs. Morris while deciding to do the innocent, childhood activity of picking my nose. Mrs. Morris was able to scrunch her face up into several modes of hideousness depending on what was in her field of vision. When she caught sight of my finger embedded up into my notsril and buried to the first knuckle, mining for little green nuggets of nose ore, her face turned into the worst form of disgust I had seen all year. Her eyes went almost shut. Her forehead wrinkled downward, the corner of her mouth tweaked upward, her yellowing teeth clenched. Her nostrils flared and she started slowly shaking her head from side to side as if she were a bull getting ready to charge. She had stopped her instuctions to the class and the new silence caught the attention of every member in the classroom, who in the eon of silence, now looked up to see what had happened to the chatterbox. Upon seeing her contorted face all members of the class had to turn and see what she was looking at.
I had no idea what the proper ettiquette was for such situations. (If you know please enlighten me as I'm still not sure what to do under such situations)
So now here I was trying to decide if I should pull the finger out of my nose and show the audience my newest discovery, or if I should suddenly act as if I were asleep and then admit to the class that instead of sucking my thumb while asleep, I had the habit of putting my finger up my nose. I shrunk down in my desk, kept my finger in place and turned to several assorted shades of red in my embarrassment.
Mrs. Morris suggested I excuse myself and go the bathroom for some tissue. I quickly got up and headed for the door with my finger still firmly in place. Mrs. Morris started a path towards the door as well to intercept me before I could make my get away. Just before letting me get out the door she leaned down and whispered in my ear...
"Am I ever going to see that finger there again?"
I shook my head no, walked out the door, and quickly pulled my finger out to see if I had harvested anything of value...

A Mission Passed On

Here are the directions: 1. Ad a comment on my blog, leave one memory that you and I have had together. It doesn't matter if you knew me a little or a lot, anything you remember. This can be about me, or any related memory of my family.... 2. Next, repost these instructions on your blog and see how many people leave a memory about you. It is actually pretty funny to see the responses.

Life changing event

During this time of Dennis's deterioration and the diagnosis from the doctor, Mom came to the realization there were going to be troubling times ahead for the Dean household. She was adamant that Dad should give up his drinking because his alcoholism had already caused too much damage to all, and turn his attentions to his family. Dad agreed and for the most part had given up drinking altogether when he received a phone call saying President Hamblin wanted to have an interview with him.
Although he had mostly given up alcohol Dad was still smoking and our church attendance was very sporadic at best. When President Hamblin visited with Dad, Dad was told he was being called to be the next bishop of the Mancos Ward. Dad was in total disbelief and said he could not be bishop because he did not obey "The Word of Wisdom", hadn't paid tithing for 2o years and was a poor example as a father and a husband.
{resident Hamblin's reply to this was..."Brother Dean, you can either accept this call from the Lord and receive the blessings or you can turn it down and suffer the condemnation..."
To this Dad responded, "President, when you put it that way I don't suppose I have any other choice but to accept...."
It took much courage and committment, but this decision changed all of our lives drastically for the better and for the next many years we were all on a different path of thought and actions in our lives.
Looking back in retrospect most of us are sure this change in attitude would not have happened to Mom and Dad if Dennis had been of normal health, truly we can see that God works in mysterious ways.

Doctor visit

As a follow up to the last post, an appointment was made to have a general checkup with Dr Donesky, the family doctor, to have him give a report on Dennis. It was his opinion that Dennis might have had a slight bout with polio and that was the reason his body was looking different than normal. The symptoms did not mirror the usual effects of polio though, so Dr Donesky suggested that Mom and Dad take Dennis to see a specialist in childhood diseases. This was something that did not happen until many months later. As the specialist looked at Dennis he was able to make a fast diagnosis and told Dad that polio would have been preferable to the disease Dennis actually did have. He named the disease and the prognosis to Mom and Dad for the rest of Dennis's short life. He said that Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy would continue to make Dennis more and more weak and that he would probably die before the age of 18. Mom and Dad shared the news of what disease Dennis had but did not pass on the prognosis to us and we went on with our lives.