As December Leaves: Mark's High School Garage Band

Mark, as he went through high school was involved in a garage band playing what he called emorock music.  The cut a c.d. and had some pretty nice songs.  I tried to make it to al their concerts, and I think I may have accomplished that.  Sometimes they played very loudly, and that and working at Del Monte, my ear doctor has blamed for my tinnitus.  But it was worth it.  I enjoyed their music.  I only had a hard time when the did a concert at the Lamp Lighter in Campbell.  There was some kid who kept wanting to do smash dancing and didn't care who he ran into.

Mark played bass, Andrew Loc lead guitar and Chris Chavez drums.  Chris I think really wanted to be playig guitar as well.  One of the hardest things was finding a drummer.  For some time Andrew and Mark played together, calling themselves Subject to Change, but when they found a drummer they changed the name.  They usually sang lead vocals for the songs they wrote.  My favorite is Seaside Burns Tonight that Mark wrote.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gx2iIhtKOKM&context=C4182454ADvjVQa1PpcFPV-v3VBttmWpU8avrD7yp5ZSu0a3qtNcA=

Their myspace site is still up and features several of their songs.  They cut one c.d. that Chris put together.  The songs on the myspace site are from the c.d.
http://www.myspace.com/asdecemberleaves
I am not sure if my space works anymore.  But here are a couple more youtube movies
One on addiction, and the other about my father.
I got to help carry stuff from time to time.  Jeremy was more involved with them.  He was putting together a picture album at one time.  The use to pla for school drama stuff where Mark was active.  Also talent shows, the Lamplighter, and where ever the could.  They were even on t.v. at one point playing during High School Sports Beat.  The same show Mark was on for a second getting an assist for the Cupertino soccer team.

Mitt Romney Plods on Toward the Nomination

In the media there is plenty of talk about how the Republican side is divided, and the outcome is still unsure.  But, if you look at things the way I do, Mitt Romney is plodding towards the nomination.  He has garnered close to 55 percent of the available delegates.  He has 150 more delegates than Santorum, and more than the entire rest of the field combined.  As he moves along, more and more of the super delegates will also support him.  He has won 17 of the 27 contests so far.  That is over 60 percent.
Today, though he lost badly in Kansas, he did win three territorial contests.  It was about a draw in terms of delegates.
   While it is true, he has not convinced his opponents to fall in line, and accept what is happening, he is winning, and winning by a significant margin.  He has more than a million votes more than Santorum.  Santorum is trying to blame the difference on Gingrich.  But I think people just don't like Santorum, especially after he has appealed to democrats to vote for him to keep the race going, and also keeps trying to portray Romney as a liar.  This is not helping the party.  Santorum is Obama's best friend right now.  That is the only result of Santorum's desperate campaign.
   The map shows Santorum's success is limited to the midwest.  He does not appear to be a national candidate, but a regional one at best.  Romney has won in the South, West and Northeast.    We shall see, but the result should be obvious even to Santorum in a couple of weeks, at least after the first Tuesday in April at the latest.  Then I hope we can start rallying behind our nominee.

Cache Junction Beanery

 Growing up, we didn't get the chance to eat out much, but I do have memories of Dad taking us to the Beanery at Cache Junction.  It was one of the highlights of growing up.  I think I even took a date out their once.  The Beanery, was of course known for their white beans and ham.  They of course served other dishes.  It was a typical restaurant of the day, with older women as waitresses, and pies and dinners and working men.  Originally it was their for the city and men of the railroad.  Over time as the railroad activity decreased, it still had enough draw that people would drive there from throughout the valley. It seems like they had a special bread, I can't remember if it was rolls or homemade bread, but there was something. I know on one visit I ordered pork chops, which was my favorite as I was growing up.  With a family of eight, I am sure we caused them some problems for seating; but they were always able to accommodate us.  They had a bar, but we never sat there.  We always sat at a table.



http://www.rootsweb.ancestry.com/~utcache/cachejunction/index.htm

Unsolicited Obama emails

I am getting tired of getting unsolicited Obama emails.  It seems they are always, "trying to set the record strait."  I can think for myself, and don't need you r emails to tell me what to think.  The emails were originally sent by "Jim Messina" and the subject was such you didn't know if it was from an Obama criticizer or supporter until you opened the email.  I have spammed his name, and no the same emails are coming from some other name.  It seems like a Hitleristic brain washing campaign.  I don't know how to get rid of them, so I guess I will just keep spamming them.  What does it take to get them know you are not interested in their slant--the economy and redistribution of wealth, and government obstruction of the energy industry, attacks on religion, support of abortion, etc. etc. speaks for it self. 

Silly Billy: a Play on Rhymes

I wrote this for Sheri one day I was playing with rhymes

Silly Billy

One day Silly Billy, our hero, went to lunch with Sheri Bearie,

Our very, very beautiful frilly filly from the upper crusty wusty.

That, to Silly Billy, was very, very hairy scary wary--

Because his hawking talking skills were rusty, dusty and crusty.

He thought, “A flower bower I could have used, or maybe a hilly lily

Because I’m klutzy whatsy with the cocky talkie walky.”

In the pit of his jelly-belly there were frilly willies.

He felt sickly icky, and his conversation was rocky, balky.

He had a stone bone in his gut, which gave him an unwelly belly.

Yes, our hero, Silly Billy felt tremendously tizzy dizzy.

His legs were terribly bobbly, wobbly, like smelly jelly,

And his head was bounding, pounding, sounding like a busy fizzy. 

“Help, I’ve a cockeye butterfly, in my throat, yucky stucky,”

Breathed our macho Camacho in a freaky squeaky

Voice, like a lisper whisper all gucky plucky,

With fairly no spare square air support, just leaky screaky squeaky. 

But his frilly filly girlfriend was no ordinary willy dilly.

She knew the slick Heimlich trick and applied it to Billy’s jelly-belly.

She went push, push, swoosh whoosh on the naval of Silly Billy.

And that cockeye butterfly shot out like a smelly deli selemi (err salami).

So our zero hero was saved by the frilly filly

And he felt weirdly cheery in his now welly jelly-belly.

So he opened his mouth to cockily jockey talkie, did our Silly Billy.

But nothing came out, for his crainy brainy was absentee and pretty empty.

The end (or is it the beginning.)

I’ll never tell.

 Love,  Billy

My Mission Presidents

http://marriottschool.byu.edu/alumni/portal/featured/index.cfm
Presidente Harris
http://library.weber.edu/asc/archivesdept/registers/bishop.cfm
President Bishop

When I first made it to Argentina, we were picked up by the assistants to the President, and taken to the President’s residence, Presidente Harris, where we had our first dinner in Argentina.  We stayed close to the mission home that night, and then the next day became part of transfers.
Similarly, at the end of my mission we had a similar experience, going to the presidents home to report on our mission.  This included writing a report of our future goals.  However leaving was different than arriving.  We were accompanied by our companion, who went to transfers and got another companion.  Returning from this visit, I was on my own.  That felt strange after two years of not being alone.  We were expected to find our own ride or transportation to the airport.
I served under two mission presidents in Buenos Aires, Argentina North Mission, President John Arthur Harris and President Joseph L. Bishop.  The attached articles are brief biographies of each of them.  President Harris went back to school and studied business after his mission.  President Bishop served another turn as mission president at the Missionary Training Center.  He then worked at BYU until his retirement. 
Presidente Harris was a native of Peru, but of Chinese extraction.  He would always present zone conferences in Spanish.  If I am not mistaken, he had three children during this time, at least two girls and one son. the youngest.  I remember one fun day at their house with singing and talent shows.  Elder Morasco did the skit with someone else behind him as his arms.  The person shaved him without being able to see.  It was funny.
President Bishop came to Argentina when I had about seven months left of my mission. He had been the President of Weber State College.  His wife had sung in the Tabernacle Choir.  When he came he interviewed us all at the church in Belgrano.  This is a two story church. As he interviewed the entire mission, the meeting took about all day.  The biggest difference is where President Harris was a native Spanish speaker, President Bishop was not.

Leslie Clawson

Leslie is fourth from right

Leslie is third form left in front

In the summer just before my second grade year, our family moved into Hyrum, Utah at 587 East 100 South.  Just up the street was the family of Leslie Clawson.  Even though we were both in the second grade back then, I thought she was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen.  She had light blond hair, and a dainty frame.  I had a terrible crush on her.  I was too shy to ever approach her, but there were plenty of neighborhood opportunities to see her, evening games, or just getting together for what ever.
In the third grade, we were put together for a dance in the dance festival.  I don't remember the dance, but I do remember being with Leslie.  The only problem was I had a big wart on my hand at the time, and it was a bit embarrassing.  Leslie was always gracious, but to ever think of us together was more than a possibility.  We moved away after fourth grade for a couple of years, and then when we returned to Hyrum, to the same house, Leslie moved to a home in a different ward closer to the dam.  She associated in a "more popular" group and I didn't feel comfortable entering.  It's funny how we label ourselves.  So from then on I only admired Leslie from afar.
Leslie had juvenile diabetes, and had to take special care of her diet and sugar.  I never had any contact with her after high school, and she has since passed away.  I understand the diabetes eventually got the best of her and she passed away.