My friend Vern is always coming up with all kinds of new pictures and videos and comic relief but this one really hit the spot.  From very early on music has helped me through some tough times in my life.  Music can totally change my mood.  I love musicals and Opera and Symphony, and believe it or not Rap.  I love it all.  I can’t imagine how horrible it would be to be deaf. Allison and my brother Joseph would make me tapes of some of their favorite  tunes and send them to me when I was going through some tough times when I lived in San Francisco.  It kept me sane.

That being said I have always thought of how wonderful life would be if it were choreographed.  Wouldn’t it be great if you happened to be at the salvation army when the whole chapel broke into “Sit Down you’re Rockin the Boat”?  Maybe you’re in an old London bar and every one breaks into Oompah Pah.  Or lets say you decide to be a chimney sweep and you are lucky enough to end up on the dancing crew that does “Step in Time“.

I do sing at work and sometimes even dance a little.  Why don’t people join in?  I don’t get it.  It works on “Xanadu”.

I know flash mobs are getting a little passe but I still think they’re great.

So… on to the video.  Hope you enjoy and Thanks again Vern.

I’ve always wanted to have the best blog ever but I don’t have the content.  What choice do I have but to eliminate the competition?   We lured Allison out here promising all kinds of things.

The first day of her captivity we thought we would give her a gastro experience and disguised a charred pork chop that was raw in the middle to look like real food.  She’s quite clever.  She poked around a little and then just ate her salad.  Then we forced her to eat chocolate with bacon in it. She had a bite and didn’t even wince.  At this point I started to think that maybe she was thinking that these were not just mistakes.  Was she on to us?

Day two:  We went to Bodega bay to take pictures.  We hiked to the cliffs and I told her the warning sign was just a suggestion and I’d been on the cliffs many times.  I told her there would be wind gusts but  not to worry, they never get that strong. Turns out she’s as sure footed as a mountain goat.  Tonight we’re having a salad garnished with a nasturtium.  We have a flower here that looks a lot like that but it’s deadly.  Will she be able to tell?

Day three:  We will have morning tea on the deck. Stay tuned for more.

My Dad.  Quiet power.  He could scold with a look and punish with few words.  No volume, no drama, except that once.  I borrowed the recently bought, slightly used Suburban to go pick up Sheila.  It was winter and the roads were snow packed, but what did it matter?  I was driving a four wheel drive.  I was driving up our street, turning left onto the road in front of our house and lost control.  I took out the nieghbor’s mail box and I think I even flattened ours.  It knocked a hole in the grill of the car.  The car came to rest in our driveway and Dad came running out.  I was still behind the wheel scared to death.  Dad opened the driver side door, red faced and said, “You…You…You… Shit head!  That was it.  Later he told me he wouldn’t have reacted that way if he hadn’t seen the whole thing happen from the dining room window.  I put a couple of fog lights in the mangled front grill.  It was never mentioned again.

I took a trip to San Francisco and borrowed Dad’s car.  I was young and had no money but went anyway.  Dad didn’t tell me it was a dumb idea, or no you can’t borrow the car even though it was winter in the Sierra.  He just said ok.  The car broke down in Truckee, Cal. in the middle of a blizzard.  I slept in the car that night.  The next day Mom and Dad wired me some money to fix the car.  That night I was back on the road.  On the way home the car broke down again.  In the Sierra.  I hitched a ride to Reno and spent the rest of the night trying not to look homeless.  Very long story shorter, more money was wired, I was able to stay the next night in a motel.  Dad and Mom drove their Blazer with car dolly to come and rescue me.  I don’t know how much they spent.   They didn’t ask me for a dime.   In fact, Dad and I became really good towing buddies because of the junk cars I drove.

Dad has always been 100% supportive.  When David got interested in guitar, so did Dad.  When I was interested in cars, Dad signed us both up for  night classes in auto mechanics.  And Mark -  we all went to his many gigs.   When Joe was on stage at Gay Pride In SLC with Men Out Loud, Dad was on the front row proud as could be.

He and I went down the Snake River in a canoe once.  I was the front paddle and he was the back.  He was the one that was supposed to steer.  He knew that but I couldn’t give up control.  I sank us about three or four times the first day.  I think that the second day I was scolded by a guide, I don’t really remember, but I let Dad steer.  The rest of the three day trip was much more pleasent.  That was never brought up again.  I’ve got many more examples, but I think I’ll move on.

How about dad the family man.  The guy who carried us to bed in a funny way.  The guy who condensed words to make new ones, like deebucheebuggie (double cheese burger), or scome, (lets go home).  And what was the deal at Dee’s.  All the boys got a hamburger and a root beer and split a small fries and Mom got a cheese burger  her own fries and a Coke.

Then there is the wonderful grandpa you are to my kids.

Happy Fathers day Dad. I love you.