Slicker 'an a Hound's Tooth

Lesson of a Great Generation

2012-01-30T17:28:00.004-05:00

Just over two years ago, Pomp up anddecided to kick the bucket -- and that's exactly how he would havedescribed the event. His passing -- at the ripe old age of 93 -- kindof caught us all by surprise. One day he was here, the next hewasn't, and that was that.

Most of us kids were lucky enough to grow up in the same house as our Davis grandparents.At least that's the way I see it. While growing up,Pomp was always there: working in the yard, working in the barn,working in the kitchen, or working on something else. In the back ofmy mind I sort of thought he would always be there.

From what I've been told, and from whatI can remember, Pomp and I always had a mutual admiration for each other. I wore my "Pompa" boots when I was little,and had a little plaid shirt like he did. Later on, Critter and Iboth got flat caps like Pomp liked to wear.

I liked following Pomp around to see what sort of projects he was working on. Together we dug in thegarden, chopped, sawed and stacked wood, and we built shelves. We climbedunder cars, we fixed broken toilets and we put thingstogether. There were painting projects, picking projects and plowingprojects. He showed me how to hoe, how to swing a hammer and how toshovel snow -- the right way.

When I was about 11 or 12, Pomp decidedto "hire" me for a job. This was really something: Pomp was going to pay me to work on a project. I can'tremember a time prior to that or an occasion since when Pomp offered memoney for work. Thinking back, he must have really not wanted the chore for himself.

On the lower east third of the yard,Pomp regularly plowed up the rocky soil with his rototiller, rather thangrow any grass. It was on the same patch of land he had his raspberrybushes and grape vines. At the time, a budding littleforest of maple and various other saplings was establishing itself.The task for me was to remove the saplings -- root and all -- from a plot of about 1500 square feet. It was summer, it was hot, I was askinny little guy, and the tool of Pomp's choice was a big old rusty mattock. Theprize was a five-dollar bill.

In the heat of the day, I probably dug out about10 or 15 trees before I called it quits. What seemed like sure richesat first proved insufficient to keep me on the job for long. I'mpretty sure Pomp was surprised at how quickly I threw in the towel,and probably a little disappointed. I guess he thought he was givingme a pretty good deal. When he was my age, he'd havelikely jumped at the same job 10 times over for 10 times less money. If I could, I'd almost like to go back and say, "Pomp, look! I dug them all up! I earned my five dollars!"

Tirza and I just started reading TomBrokaw's "The Greatest Generation." It describes young menand women coming of age during the Great Depression. Instead oftaking part in the sort of activities young people might typicallypursue, they ended up taking part in a brutal war in faraway places.With the war's conclusion, these same young people returned home tomake lives for themselves -- and for the most part, those lives werequite ordinary. But Brokaw notes how these ordinary folks stood forsome pretty high standards and values.

As part of that greatgeneration, Pomp was no exception -- even though he wasn't a veteran ofany combat or member of any armed service. If there is one goodold-fashion value I say Pomp embodied best, it would be his natural inclination toward do-it-yourself hard work. I only wish I were half as inclined toward that value as he was.

Now that he's no longer with us, I'm forever grateful I moved home for the last few months of his time on earth. I left Utah in August, went to Europe for September, was home from October through the New Year and he was gone in January. Those last few months included some memorable times with Pomp.

We didn't get the chance to work together much in those last few months. There were plenty of projects to do, but Pomp wasn't quite up for it. In spite of his weariness, he didn't mind doing some inspecting. My dad and I trimmed the raspberries and pruned the grapes, and Pomp came down to investigate. Someone came to work on the barn's foundation, and Pomp sneaked down to give the job a once-over.

One night he came to inspect a cleaning job I'd done in the attic of his barn -- one of his workshops. Tirza and I had cleaned up mounds of sawdust and wood chips and in the process had moved a few things around to aid in sweeping. After surveying the progress of our project, Pomp made his displeasure known. He wasn't for it. When I hold him we were just helping, he replied: "Jaime, you did a fine job, you just got carried away." That was about as close to a compliment as I can imagine from Pomp, and I nearly swelled with pride.

The only person really to blame for the whole endeavor was Pomp himself. Why, it was he who dreamed up so many of his own projects in the first place. It was he who liked to show me the right way to push a broom around. It was he who taught me that if it ain't raining and the sun's shining then there's plenty of work to do.

With Pomp and the rest his generation quietly slipping away from America little by little every day, the rest of us -- the younger generations, remain to do something with what they left us. I don't know about anyone else, but I'd like to keep a little bit of what Pomp and the rest of them leave behind. Solid values like faith, family and country -- not to mention work and responsibility -- are values I hopefully espouse myself and can pass along to my children.

Some hot summer's day in the future, I'd like to offer my grandson the handle of a rusty old mattock, wave my arm across a patch of young maple saplings and uncrinkle a five dollar bill from my pocket. I'd kind of like to see his reaction.

Simple

2012-01-21T12:20:00.001-05:00

I like simple

Let's talk about breakfast. Just about every morning I eat oatmeal to start the day. We buy the generic quick rolled oats. They're cheap and they cook up fast. They're simple to cook: a half cup of oats, one cup of water, one and a half minutes in our microwave. In two minutes I've got a steaming bowl. One teaspoon of brown sugar and a slug of milk later, I'm ready to eat. We're still talking simple. If mixed perfectly into a runny porridge, I can chug down my oatmeal in less than a minute. Essentially, we're talking five minutes for a hot breakfast -- and that's if I bother to rinse out my bowl. That's simple.

I like simple.

I like life to be simple. Or maybe I think life should be simpler. I'm sure I'm not the first to suggest life can get complicated, confused and congested. It seems like we're all in a big hurry to get somewhere, to do something or to be someone. Sometimes I feel myself getting caught up in the same. But I like simple. I like things that are simple -- like oatmeal.

Life was so much simpler when I was a boy -- that really was the life. The simplest of days would come when it was Saturday, summertime or a snow storm. The level of simplicity was inseparably connected to my level of worry. Life was simple because my worries were simple. Maybe it was finding the right Lego piece for my creation. Or learning if Frank and Joe Hardy would get out of their latest scrape. Perhaps I worried I'd scrambled a little too high in my favorite climbing maple. Or that our grandfather would get after my brother and me for digging a "horse grave" in the yard.

These days I'm worried about whether my car has acquired a new unidentified noise. I worry if the length of my little one-year-old's latest nap will affect her mother's sanity. I've got bills to pay, a job to show up at, and people who depend on me. I've got friends I want to visit and family to connect with. I've got letters to write and projects that need starting or completing. Somewhere there's a journal that needs updating and a stack of new books to read. Life now seems a far cry from what it was like as a little boy.

But I've still got oatmeal. And oatmeal is simple.

I like simple.

Ruth Ramona Davis

2011-01-08T13:28:00.002-05:00

I'm sure most everyone who reads this blog already knows the news. But I'm going to put up a picture or two of our adorable little Ruth. She's awesome! She was born Jan. 3, 2011 in Gardner, Massachusetts. She was eight pounds four and a half ounces and 21 inches long. She has the cutest little features all the way around and a fine head of dark almost curly hair. I don't have much hair that's dark and I don't have much hair that's especially curly, but Tirza's hair is a dark and a little bit curly. Suffice to say, she's the best Christmas present ever. While some would say she's late, we think she's right on time! :)

Perhaps I'll share the birth story next time I write.

Here she is:

That's the little blanket my mommy wrapped me in when I was her size -- just over 29 years ago.

We called her Peach while she was in utero and it's fitting because she's covered with some sweet peach fuzz.

Dozing away with the cutest face!

She and I get along famously. This might be Tirza's favorite.

She loves her mother too. We're working on getting photos of her and her gorgeous mommy together. It's just most of the ones we have aren't exactly for public consumption!

I love this one: like a little gnome. It's my dad's favorite shot of her too

Political Speech

2010-11-02T11:04:00.001-04:00

My family has an email group through which we communicate with each other regularly.

However, as our political tendencies differ from issue to issue (and since we haven't figured out how to differ politely and respectfully to the point we can talk about our political differences openly in the group without hurting someone's feelings or getting our feelings hurt) we don't talk about politics on our "Davis Tribe" group.

But I have a blog and I can write about whatever the heck I want to.

I want to talk about taking political spectrum quizzes.

I took two. Both plot your political leanings on a graph. Liberal to conservative and authoritarian to libertarian. I ended up on opposite sides of the spectrum after taking each one.

The first one I took was this one:

http://www.gotoquiz.com/politics/political-spectrum-quiz.html

I don't like the wording of all of the questions, but it was OK.

It has a Leichert scale for indicating your interest in or the importance you place on a given issue, so it's a little bit more dynamic than the next one.

There are also a couple of tools that allow you to compare your results to those of folks across a handful of different demographics. You can even compare your results to a few people in Mongolia if you so wish. And if you don't mind starting a little online debate, you can even post them to your Facebook page.

This is the next one:

http://www.politicalcompass.org

I liked the questions a little bit better one some of the issues in this one. And it offers more explanations -- if you agree with their explanations.

Anyway, it just goes to show that I lean this way on one thing and that way on other things.

Maybe sometime I'll actually write about my political leanings.

We have a couple of interesting races in Massachusetts going on. One of the more interesting races is right here in Pepperell, Ma -- where we have a Selectman running whose name is Lyndon B. Johnson. Pretty strong political name if you ask me. Only about 40-some-odd names have every compared (and by that I mean by associated title) to that name. I wonder if it will put him over the top.

That's all I have to say about that.

PS: I put up a new poll.

-- Tooth

Best Two Years

2010-10-26T22:36:00.002-04:00

This woman is my champ. Without her, the last two years probably wouldn't have been the best two.

Yesterday (Monday), was our second anniversary! Amazing how quickly time passes.

This picture was taken outside the Los Angeles Temple the day we were married -- October 25, 2008.

This is probably my very favorite picture of Tirza! I love it!

We realized that we didn't have to do anything fancy to celebrate our little anniversary. We were just happy to spend the day together on Saturday.

I was in charge of the day's activities and decided we should just go do something that we wanted to do and didn't do that often -- rather than going off and staying somewhere.

I decided on canoeing and couldn't have been happier with the day we had for it. It was gorgeous!

Then we caught this cool sunset in Littleton.

--Tooth

Six months

2010-10-16T14:16:00.000-04:00

It's been a while, hasn't it. I know, I know. Where the heck have I been? Well, I haven't been blogging -- I think that's obvious.

Truth be told...wait a second. I can't divulge why I haven't been blogging, because I posted a nice new poll to answer that question.

Moving right along -- I'm alive and well, for those of you who might be wondering, which is probably no one at all. But there must be someone or two or three out there, because I discovered that my blog has had 461 pageviews all time, and they haven't all come from me. I must have had some help.

Anyway, I think I need to post this sweet picture:

How cute, eh? I don't know if some of you have seen my adorable Tirza with her round little belly. And if you have, you probably are telling yourself that you haven't seen enough of it. Well, there you have it. Cute and Cute.

She had a birthday last month, about a month ago, and turned the Big Old...28. Yeah! We're the same age for like three months and five days! Thankfully, she blessed the world with this amazing birthday photo:

Yummiest chocolate cake I've had in memory. Delicious! Those are raspberry leaves and little raspberries on top. We poured the raspberry sauce (in foreground) over the cake when we ate it, but no one was forced to eat the leaves. That is, except the Japanese beetles which joined us for the celebration. They declined the cake and asked merely for seconds on the leaves.

Since the last time I wrote on this blog was April, I'm certain that I didn't blog about our gardening adventures this summer. Let's just say it was a battle of Man and Woman versus Creature. On some counts, I think Man and Woman came out victorious. On the other hand, I think Creature took home the prize (literally).

We planted lots of tomatoes, some cucumbers, a few squash plants, some pole beans and some corn. Oh, and we planted a few flowers too. This was the first year Pepperell, MA didn't feature a Pomp-planted garden in heaven-only-knows how long. I'm not sure he would have been exactly proud of it, but I think he'd at least have been amused.

Anyway, here's the result:

Doesn't that cuke look grand? Depending on the size of your screen, that may be much larger than its four-inch long life. Oh well. Maybe next year

Now, our tomatoes were just about as prolific as we could have imagined. And they were delicious too. I think it's safe to consider our juicy red Tommy Toes a success for Man and Woman. They're still growing!

Those are little tiny cluster tomatoes.

Our finest ear of corn wasn't exactly the best I'd ever had...

Thank you summer-long water ban and zero knowledge of growing corn. Again, maybe next year. Pomp didn't always have a lot of success with corn anyway.

We didn't do too bad with squash, we just got them in the ground much too late.

We ended up with about six or so acorn squash. They came out about the size of a softball.

The butternut squash is still trying to come, but I think we're just a week or two -- if not days -- away from frost. We'll see if the little guy makes it. (This picture's a few weeks old, so he's bigger and less green now)

Now, our beans are another story. We planted them next to this rail fence in the garden in hopes they would climb up the fence and produce wonderful amounts of green pole beans. What we didn't realize was that groundhogs like to eat bean leaves, but not until they're big and green and getting ready to start climbing your fence.

Exhibit A:

Just lopped the leafy tops right off with reckless abandon.

So, I set about digging around the sides of the fence to plant some steel chicken wire into the ground to keep the buggers out. My hope was that the beans would recover in time to offer us some tasty veggies.

Let's just say it was a lot of work!

But by the end, we were feeling pretty good about our beans' safety.

Safe and sound.

Guess what? Our beans prospered! They've been awesome!

Look closely: you can see the beans climbing up the twine around me. The background is all raspberries.

Anyway, here are the beans!

Why so many bean pictures? BECAUSE, we were SO stinking excited about them, that's why!

Remember how I said we planted some flowers. Well, we did. This one started like this:

And turned into this amazing Gerbera daisy!

-----------------

We also went camping during September for Tirza's birthday. It was one of her greatest wishes.
We actually haven't ever been camping together, so we kind of threw a bunch of stuff in the car one evening and went camping up at Pearl Hill State Park in Townsend, MA. It was fun!

Tin foil dinners!

Family picture

A lone red tree among all the green ones. Fall was coming. It's here now. But that might be another post.

We came across this prickly friend. I wish we could meet up with him again.

He was awesome -- didn't have a care in the world.

There were some other creatures about, but we only saw the aftermath of their adventures.

Boy, oh boy, those beavers have some lumberjack skills!

Another thing we did was take these grapes from the garden and turn then into juice!

Gram was kind of the ringleader for this job. You can see the juicer on the stove to the left and the juice on the counter to the right.

And who doesn't want to finish up with this photo? I do! From about a week ago -- 30 weeks or so.

--Tooth

Back to Germany

2010-04-23T22:04:00.001-04:00

Remember how Tirza and I went on a trip to Europe? I do.

Remember how we took thousands of pictures? Yeah, I remember that too.

Remember how we were going to blog about it? Yup, I didn't forget.

Well, in an effort not to disappoint, I'm back!

And now...back to Germany where we left off in the story just a few...er...months ago...

So, in our last post about Europe -- we'd just gotten there and spent the day floating along the River Rhein.

Our first night's stay was in Hohenbostel, outside Barsinghausen, just southwest of Hannover. We actually got there late and got off at the wrong train station -- one stop early. It was wet and so were we while we waiting for the next train to come and take us one more stop -- just a few kilometers.

The main reason we went to Hannover was so Tirza could meet up with a lot of the people she knew while serving an LDS mission there in 2004-2006. We did a lot of visiting and eating for a couple of days. Yum. We stayed with Vicki Kuhnert and family and she took us to see Steinhuder Meer with her two girls.

Tirza with Jeanette (standing) and Vivian (in the stroller).

While I liked this shot of an old sailor standing on the pier alongside some sailboats,

what really caught my eye was this:

Why not get a big Mercedes Benz E500 with a 5.5-liter V8 to haul your boat and trailer around?

With a ride that nice, I couldn't think of any reason why not! (The owner couldn't either)

Just when we finished checking out the lake, we came across this delightful scene. Who knows where they were from, but they had style.

While the warbling of these colorful gals was lovely, we could only take so much of it.

These little dancing kids were just awesome.

Then we went off to visit the European Cheese Center. We weren't quite sure what it was, we just knew it had something to do with cheese. We wanted very much to be given samples of cheese to taste and that's exactly what happened. I guess you could call it a cheese museum. They displayed cheeses from all around the world in little scenes from those places -- in an effort, I guess, to sell us those cheeses. Well, it worked because we bought some of their cheese.

Disappointingly, however, the display cheeses were FAKE!

Anyway, our second day in the area we actually spent a lot of time in Hannover -- which is a lovely city. We visited with some pretty awesome people Tirza knew from her mission. And, lets be honest, they were thrilled to have her around again! They were so excited to see us. Some of them knew we were going to be there, and some of them did not! What's more fun than a surprise like that?

One of the coolest stops was for a visit with Rena Bloma.

Who is Rena Blome, you ask?

Well, I'll give you a clue: hübsch und schnell.

Das schnellste Mädchen Deutschlands!

She was a rally racer in the 1980s! We were able to sit around and chat with her about the good old days.

And these ought to illustrate how good those days were:

She said her back usually hurt after the landing!

Rena said the rally folks wanted to get an all-girl team driving against the men. She tried out against a bunch of other female hopefuls and won the race to get the spot! From then on she was racing against men in world-class rally racing events. Ausgezeichnet!

This is Tirza with her friends Frank and Flor Brennmuhl. They didn't know we were in town, but we decided to stop by and see if they were home. While we were walking down the street toward their apartment building, Tirza thought she saw Frank riding by on a bicycle. When she hollered his name a few times, he did a double-, then a triple-take and just about crashed the bike into a tree due to surprise. I guess you had to be there. It was funny.

We also caught up with Maya Schmidtkunz -- seen here with Tirza in front of Hannover's Opera House.

She wanted to make sure we filled our tummies with a Döner each. Delicious!

And why not use a fleet of shiny Mercedes Benzes for the city's taxis?

A shot of us at the Hannover Hauptbahnhoff (central rail station)

After Maya insisted on sending us off with more than 10 kg of chocolate and candy

from a local shop, we made our way over to the home of the Pelz family.

Delightful folks indeed.

Here we are with Tim (son in the back) Leon (the little son) Karsten (the dad)

and Andrea (the mom). They filled our tummies too, twice.

Tirza helped Leon learn a few tricks on the trampoline while Karsten and I shot

photos of a rainbow glimmering over the neighborhood.

Karsten kept saying, "Wow! Klasse!" And for the rest of the trip, we did too.

Wow! Klasse!

New Layout

2010-04-14T09:17:00.000-04:00

I think I get more pleasure out of changing the look of the blog than by coming up with new posts.

But, this is your lucky day, because I've come up with a new post, a new look and a new poll.

That's about all I've got.

Plus a picture from the Europe trip!

Fahrvergnügen!

YUCK!

2010-03-05T14:16:00.000-05:00

So,

For some reason the blog is inserting GIGANTIC spaces in between the first bunch of photos. I hate them.

Then it's giving me trouble and not uploading any photos I upload through Google Chrome.

So, I'm working on putting them up with Internet Explorer, but I have no more time to waste on a blog for today.

The End.

--Tooth

We've been doing things -- really!

2010-03-05T13:31:00.007-05:00

We've done some cool things recently.

And maybe some of them don't seem that cool, but that's not our problem.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Visiting with royalty: Thomas and Planet

They like sitting in pumpkins. Who doesn't?

We had an anniversary in October and went to New York (the state).

We visited the Vanderbilt Mansion too.

We visited our favorite Philadelphians. In Philadelphia.

We're all about getting our National Parks passport stamped!

Independence Hall!

Inside, four of us were behaving for a picture. One (a girl) wasn't.

Then there was this fire around the corner at the auto body shop.

Big happenings in Pepperell!

And that, obviously, is my gorgeous wife! Cute, cute, cute!

A little hike through Beaver Brook in Hollis, NH.

Old junk in the attic. We're doing a little cleaning.

Pile of wood scraps we gave away for firewood from Pomp's shop.
The old man's reaction?

"You did a pretty nice job, Jaime, you just got carried away."

Oh well.

I like my lungs.

I hate grey squirrels.

A lot.

Things I don't hate: princesses

Danielly came out to wash some dishes!

And then there was a crash up the street! Incredible.

Cutest square dancer this side of...anywhere!

We went to the Boston Children's Museum with Seth and Malachi.

As you can see, we didn't have much fun.

I call this work of art: Winter rotary in snow, with plow

The beautiful Miss Kiah

Down at the Ranch House in Cedar City. Any time is a good time for Монгол Гутал.

Tirza decided to clean out her closet in Buena Park.
Now she has something to wear to church.

I had to make sure this white elephant gift functioned properly before Christmas.
424? I'm awesome.

The Getty Museum crew. One of these things (the blonde one) is not like the others.

Adria and me performing our gold-medal synchronized twirling
routine for the international judging panel. 9.86 -- a world record.

Christmas morning

We broke into the San Diego Zoo at night and rode an endangered prehistoric feline.
That landed us in jail. We were sorry. They let us out. The End.

Had to make sure we said hi to Hermana Whoozle while driving up "The Five."

Grandpa Dickinson was a sheep herder? Are you sure it wasn't grandma?

Oh flight cancellations, how do we hate thee?

Oh Tannenbaum, Oh Tannenbaum. Tirza and I picked a winner this year.

And that, my friends, is how you dance to live bluegrass in the living room.

If you're stamping your National Parks passport, you better be in Lowell.

All hail the great Plow Man!

Signing Pomp's book. :(

Hey girls, why don't you take a load off?

Francys herself

Funeral food with Sherwood relations

Keep a stiff upper lip, old boy!

Night photo of the house under the biggest full moon in ages!

Mah Jong -- the Taiwanese way, with a Davis straight-edge, chop-stick twist

The Cheese Wedge Express: 3rd place at the 2010 Pack 86 Pinewood Derby
You're correct. That's a real mousetrap on top.

Snow fort ruins, 5,000 years after the Great Main Street Siege

Our birds-in-a-nest cupcakes

Double dog duty.
Single sister sitting.

Family photo with Daisy Doodle

My Philadelphia snowman

Washington National Chapel at Valley Forge NHP

Cape Neddick "Nubble" Light Station, York, Maine
Just when the sun broke through the clouds!

Who Eliza kissed on her East Coast trip. :)

Who Eliza didn't kiss on her East Coast trip. :(

And that's that!

--Tooth

Like I said, we went to Europe

2009-10-28T10:44:00.012-04:00

Ahem.

I'm really blogging about our trip now.

We decided a while back that we wanted to take a big trip to Europe while we had a chance, so we saved our pennies.

Lots of them.

At first our grand plans included traveling to Ireland, Norway, Sweden, Finland, Denmark, Germany, France, Austria, Switzerland, Italy and the Czech Republic. Let's just say that our grand plans were just that: grand.

Once we saw how many pennies we'd be able to save, we trimmed that tour of the European Union to just three: Germany, Switzerland and Austria. See, we speak German, but we don't speak Norwegian, Swedish, Finnish, Danish, French, Italian or Czech.

And so it was. We left Boston on August 31 and flew directly to Frankfurt am Main with Lufthansa, arriving on September 1. You just can't beat a seven-hour, direct flight to Europe with Lufthansa.

Now, as many of you (in the off chance there actually are many of you reading this) know, flying east for any length of time can get tricky for a traveler. We flew out of Boston around 5 p.m. EST and landed in Frankfurt around 5:30 a.m. local time. We were a tad sleepy and the rest of the European world was just getting up and going to work. Instead of hitting the sack, we hit the road (actually, the rails to be exact).

We'd purchased a rail-and-drive pass, which gave us five days riding first class on the train and seven days behind the wheel of a car. The rail worked great for long days of traveling long distances between cities, and the car days worked great for traveling shorter distances and stopping along the way.

Our first adventure involved taking a ferry up the River Rhein from Bingen am Rhein to St. Goar. The River Rhein is historically an important shipping route and remains such to this day. The riverbanks along our route are dotted with all sorts of castles from many different eras. When we disembarked in St. Goar, we decided to visit the Castle Rheinfels ourselves.

Anyway, here are some of the castles along the way:

Those are grape vineyards winding their way down the hillside.

This on is situated on an island and acted kind of like a tollbooth for ships in its time.

This castle is now a youth hostel.

(And a church or two)

Joining us on our trip up the river were an odd assortment of tourists -- both German and otherwise. We had a whole flock of elderly Scottish women and a little Japanese man who, while his feet didn't even reach the floor from his chair, still managed to down a pint or two of the local foamy stuff!

Some of our fellow castle watchers.

Our favorite old Scottish lady. (Photo taken discreetly with spy camera)

Our favorite Japanese tourist, his daughter/neice/granddaughter/wife/lady friend and his empty beer mug. (Photo taken discreetly with spy camera)

And a few photos from Castle Rheinfels:

Tirza on guard duty.

"O'er the ramparts we watched..." This place withstood a siege laid by more than 28,000 French troops sometime in 1692!

Tirza admiring the greenery or scenery or both.

We got some American tourists to take our photo. Can you believe that when we asked them to cut off our legs in favor of seeing what was actually behind us, they complied with our request? You can see what you'd have missed had they opted to photograph our lovely legs instead.

Looking through the wall to see the river.

Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeze!

That's my cute wife!

Tirza paying the price for being naughty!

Sheesh. This tale is taking a long time! After we finished our tour of the castles, we caught a train up to Köln (Cologne) to check out the impressive Kölner Dom. And, it was impressive.

It is absolutely gigantic! It's over 150 meters (500 feet) tall! We had to take two photos to get most of it and then patch them together!

Inside a cathedral, lighting is not exactly ideal for photography, but the stain-glass windows were amazing. You get the idea.

Anyway, we only had a short time in Köln to check out the cathedral PLUS it was pouring rain, so we didn't stick around for long. The rest of our travels on that first day took us to Hannover to catch the subway out into the boonies to stay with some friends of Tirza -- Michael and Vicki Kuhnert and their little daughters Jeanette and Vivian.

So, after waking up around 8 a.m. Boston time August 31, we didn't sleep again until around 11:30 p.m. Germany time Sept 1. That's something like 33 hours! We were wasted. We'll just say that by the time we'd slept through the night Sept. 1, we were perfectly acclimated to the time zone we'd be living in for the next month.

Good thing!

--Tooth

Not a Liar

2009-10-19T21:33:00.009-04:00

So,

I said I went to Europe and I said I had photos. I was not lying.

Here are a few to whet your whistles until I can get my act together.

Here's a shot of Tirza and me inside the Deutsches Stadion in Berlin -- home to the 1936 Olympic Games (Jesse Owens vs. Adolf Hitler) and the 2006 World Cup Final.

Me, a German swan and a ravishing red-haired Russian hanging out in Hamburg.

Tirza checking for broccoli in her teeth at the Auto Stadt in Wolfsburg.

Exactly what it looks like: me holding a carrot next to a tiny brown horse in a green field.

You're probably thinking I'm wearing the same thing in all of the photos. That's because I am. There's only so much you can take with you when you only bring one backpack for a month.

Tirza, on the other hand, must have put more into her bag...

Fancy Tirza riding in a Deutsche Bahn first-class compartment with style.

--Tooth

Remember Me?

2009-10-16T12:03:00.003-04:00

Loyal readers.

You have not been forgotten.

Perhaps you have moved on.

Please come back.

I promise to write.

I will write.

Look, I'm writing right now.

I just got back from Europe and will soon be blogging about it!

With photos!

That's the story.

Right now I'm just sitting in the Lawrence Library in Pepperell, MA trying not to freeze and wondering why they wouldn't turn on the heat on a day on which it started out with snow flakes!

--Tooth

Did I mention we went to Arizona...

2009-05-19T19:37:00.009-04:00

Yeah, the Coach and I went to Arizona in March. To be honest, I liked the place much better than I thought I would.

Then again -- I only went in mid-April, not June, July or August.

So, I started blogging about our excursion down to the Grand Canyon State a while back, but I decided what I'd written was boring. And it just might have been. But I'm back at it and will write it anyway. Maybe it won't be so boring.

We'll see…

So, yeah, we went to Arizona because Tirza needed to collect data for her thesis at some of the schools in a certain school district. I won't say the name of it, since I suppose, technically, the schools she studied are a secret. That's by order of the Internal Review Board at BYU, since the students are youngsters. They are all anonymous.

(The Coach in action showing her students how to properly fuel themselves between workouts.)

At any rate, the students had plenty to say in spite of their anonymity. It actually went off without a hitch, to be honest. Tirza was so stinking prepared for every minute of her data collection, her professors could hardly believe it. Three of them came to town to help with the collection, and ended up with probably a lot more free time than they expected.

What did I do while I was there? Not much that could be called useful, to be honest. I was mainly the chauffeur. I drove the rental while the Coach did all the work. It actually ended up being the first car I had ever rented.

I went through Hotwire.com and they came up with a car through Hertz. The problem I encountered, was that it seemed everyone else at PHX the evening we arrived had also booked their rentals through Hertz. I think we waited in line for the better part of an hour. The end result: a shiny 2007 Chevy Malibu, not my first choice.

The Malibu was apparently an upgrade since they were out of midsize cars. To be honest, I was hoping for the Pontiac G6 we were supposed to get. Then I was kind of excited about the Mazda 6 or Hyundai Sonata they dangled in front of me before giving me the Malibu. What can you do? It had seats, a steering wheel, A/C, a big trunk, a V6 and a pretty nice factory radio. What more did I really need to get from point A to point B? I'll tell you what I didn't need: heated seats. That I was certain of.

Anyway, since we knew we were going to be heading down to Arizona, I tried to think if we knew anyone from AZ. I guess I know plenty of people, but I wasn't sure I wanted to impose on any of them. We didn't. In the middle of the night I got his idea that I'd contact the mother of my friend (Mr. Bringhurst) and see if I could stay with her parents, since we're third cousins or something anyway.

She contacted me, and boy were they happy to have us. I wasn't quite prepared for how glad they would be to host us. We arrived late and they wanted to stay up all night chatting with us. Boyd is 87 and Kitty, his wife, is 91. They are what I'd like to call: The Salt of the Earth, or TSE.

Now, I hadn't realized that Boyd had made some plans of his own for us. He did. Boy did he ever.

My first morning with Boyd, I realized that he'd taken a liking to the idea that I like to cook. He'd learned that through one of our telephone conversations. Well, he didn't forget it. He informed me that he and Kitty would buy the groceries and we would do the cooking. At first I thought it was a joke, then I realized it wasn't.

The next day, the four of us took a trip to the grocery store to load up on ingredients for our dinners every night. What a scene. Boyd didn't want to skimp on a thing. He had a request or two as well, and we delivered. On the menu: salmon, pork roast, lasagna, chili, beef stew, macaroni salad, and probably some other things I can't remember.

The next thing I learn from Boyd was that he wanted us to work out at his local gym. The 87-year-old man goes to the gym six times a week for an hour at 8 in the morning. What a champ. So, he took us down there, bought us a week-long visitors' pass to the gym and showed us around the place.

Saying he's been going there every week for the past 20 years, Boyd marched through the front door with a wave to the girl at the counter and gave us the grand tour of the racquetball courts, bikes, weights and pool. What he hadn't expected, however, was that the biggest, tannest, thickest man in Mesa, Arizona would want to come find out what we were up to. I was ready to cower under the lat machine, but Boyd wanted to know why Mr. Thick was giving us the business when he'd paid the fee and signed all the cards. Mr. Thick backed down and we went on our merry way. Let's just say that for the rest of our time there, Mr. Thick seemed to check my visitor's pass about 19 more times, just to make sure everything was in order.

The final surprise came when Boyd decided he wanted to take us down to some nearby caves on Saturday. Unfortunately we had already made plans to travel to Flagstaff for the night and then beyond to the Grand Canyon on Saturday morning. Boyd was literally crestfallen. He even tried to get us to switch our plans, but we already had paid for a night at a pretty nifty Bed and Breakfast in Flagstaff. On this point, we weren't dissuaded.

All in all, our visit with Boyd and Kitty was simply unforgettable. They were hilarious. You have to understand that they are old and that Kitty is one little, tiny lady. And she's got the funniest dry sense of humor.

One day I came back to their house to find Kitty out in the back yard in her bathrobe, kneeling on the ground trimming some of the edges of the lawn with some yard clippers. I thought that was hilarious.

Oh, I should mention that Boyd never called Tirza by anything other than, "Sis." That's what he'd do. "Hey Sis, how are you?" "Don't worry about that, Sis." "You don't need to take care of those dishes, Sis." "You looking for something for breakfast, Sis?"

Well, I think this post is long enough. I'm posting it. I'll have to post the rest of the tale tomorrow or something. We'll see.

Now I'd better go find some photos to put with this one…

--Tooth

Nopales

2009-05-19T12:59:00.005-04:00

I'm back.

Here I am. See, I'm back.

For some reason I never really got around to writing on this bugger for the last month and a half. I'm sure a few of you readers even cared, and to you I apologize.

Last week Tirza and I made some awesome salsa without a recipe. I don't usually use a written recipe for anything I cook, except chocolate chip cookies. I like the ones on the side of the Arm and Hammer box.

Anyway, that's definitely beside the point. The point is, we decided to replicate our salsa recipe a few days later and found ourselves at the grocery store to get some stuff. While we were picking out our Anaheim and jalapeño peppers, we noticed some cactus pads in a bin next to peppers. We wondered aloud how cacti would taste. Since we'd traveled to Arizona in April, we were well-versed in cacti but hadn't eaten any.

Well, we didn't buy any cacti that day, and went on our merry way.

On Sunday, we were invited to dinner at the home of some friends of ours who are from Mexico. I forget the exact place, but it's down south of Arizona. Maybe Sonora. Anyway, they cooked up some amazing tacos for us.

They made their own tortillas and the toppings for the tacos were actually Mexican, rather than what us Americanos put on our tacos. There was no lettuce, tomato or cheese. We had finely chopped cabbage, finely chopped cilantro, limes, onions and some hot, thin red salsa to put on top. They called them tacos de barbacoa, I guess because of the style they cooked the meat. They were as yummy as any street vendor taco you'll find.

I ate about five of them and could have eaten about 20 more, but I decided to take it easy. A funny thing happened, though, while we were munching on our tacos and chatting. We asked our friends if they had ever eaten cactus.

(I'll point out here that our friends very recently came to the United States from Mexico for the first time and are working on their English. My Spanish skills, on the other hand, are thus: if I was threatened with death if I couldn't come up with the proper Spanish word for pencil sharpener, I'd be okay. If I had to conjugate some verbs into the preterite, I might get shot.)

Any who, when we said cactus our friends were thinking something along the lines of a Saguaro cactus, when we were thinking of what we saw at the store: something like a prickly pear cactus. To us, anything with spikes on it is a cactus. To them, each has their own name. After some gesturing back and forth, Juan went to the fridge and pulled out a plastic bag of cactus pads -- just like from the store! Holding them up, he wondered if we were talking about those.

Nopales, he said. These are called nopales. It was quite obviously (from the fact that he pulled them out of the refrigerator) that as for him and his house, he eats nopales, not cactus.

Next thing we knew, Juan had the nopales cleaned of any spikes and on the hot griddle. In no time we had juicy, steaming cactus pads right in front of us. Ask for cactus, and you shall receive nopales. He'd salted them and put a bunch of lime on top. We grabbed a slice or two and were impressed. Nopales are pretty yummy. I'm not sure I can say what they taste like. They taste kind of like what you'd think a cactus would taste like, minus the needles. The outside was about as tough as the outside of a green bean and the inside was slimy and gooey, kind of like aloe vera or something.

Anyway, that's the story.

--Tooth

Mystic Hot Springs II

2009-03-30T11:37:00.025-04:00

Hello friends.

Here's what happened: I tried to stick a map from Google on my blog and everything went haywire. Complete pandaemonium at Hound's Tooth Headquarters. I couldn't even post any of the angry comments I got! (I got more comments for writing nothing than I get when I actually write something!)

Anyway, so, I'm back in the saddle and using Safari instead of Firefox, since Firefox hates that I want to blog now and again.

Back to Mystic Hot Springs. Let me just put up a photo to whet your whistle.

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, I GIVE YOU: MYSTIC HOT SPRINGS!

(L to R: Lt. Fuzzy, James the Great, the Coach and Captain Wallace -- I mean, Grant, James, Tirza and Adria)

Wasn't that worth the wait? The photo pretty much says it all. We went to this place called Mystic Hot Springs a few weeks back for a bathroom photo shoot. Okay, we didn't know it would turn out to be a superb photo spot, but it was. We now have this photo framed and ready to hang up in our bathroom. We think it's the funniest photo.

Anyway, Mystic Hot Springs is this place out in Monroe, UT, which is about a 10 minute drive south of Richfield, which is on I-70 in Centralish Utah. It was about 2-2 1/2 hour drive from where we live.

We headed down there this fine, March Saturday morning to meet up with Tirza's sister Rebekah, husband Grant and little Adria. They had spring break from SUU and were touring some of the cool places there are to see in Southern Utah. Richfield is also where Tirza's grandpa Dickinson grew up, and his sister Alta lives there with all of her posterity. (I'm not kidding. Everyone one of her children and grandchildren live in and around Richfield.) We visited with those folks for a bit, went to Richfield's finest Chinese dining and stuck around for lasagna, salad and ice cream with Aunt Alta.

Anyway, Rebekah found out about the hot springs and we decided to go check them out.

You can check them out too, right here.

If you were wondering, they are owned by a hippie. That's the truth.

Anyway, in Monroe there are two side-by-side sources of mineral hot springs flowing out of the earth at 168 degrees. The owner said they're coming out at 100-200 gallons per minute. The orange mineral formations are awesome to look at and the water is oh so toasty and warm.

(L to R: Tirza, Adria and Rebekah)

Back in the 20's they apparently had a resort or something at this location, but it later made way for the buildings they have now. There is an old, run-down motel-type building on the site where the owner lives with his girlfriend. It seems like it was built in the 1960s or 1970s and then neglected. There's an empty, fenced-in swimming pool right next to the building, and I couldn't help wondering why they didn't just fill that baby up with the hot water too.

(This is obviously not the big empty pool, but a two smaller pools things the water flows into. You can see the building behind).

Instead of filling the big pool with water, however, they just have a bunch of strategically placed giant bathtubs. (Not the little puny kind they put in houses these days, but a real, 7-ft bathtub!)

Mike apparently puts on a bunch of folksy, bluegrass and jam band concerts at Mystic Hot Springs throughout the year, films them with old studio equipment and then posts them on YouTube. I have to admit, some of the musicians are better than others.

I think Mike was a Deadhead who followed the Grateful Dead around for a while. I think he was checking out one of their last shows in the 1990s when he drove through Monroe on his way back to Colorado and ended up buying the place.

It makes me think of a song by C.W. McCall -- "Crispy Critters." If you haven't heard it, you better check this out. (The pictures, as it says, have nothing to do with the song, but it's the best way I could come up with to present the song.)

Just like in the song, this place has hippies, dogs, hippie busses and probably a Space Cadet. I couldn't get my hippie bus photo to load up, sorry about that.

Anyway, in spite of all of its rough edges, it's a real treat. You have to look past all of the rust, crumbling rocks, general dustiness and strange smell in the building's lobby, but it really was so much fun.

--Tooth

Mystic Hot Springs

2009-03-30T11:37:00.003-04:00

Well,

Something went wrong when I tried to post this last week. I'll try again. I was amazed by all of the comments I got, but it wasn't my fault. The blogger went wild. It won't even let me post any of the comments. Rotten thing.

Let's try again.

Whoops!

2009-03-17T15:56:00.002-04:00

I almost lost my wedding ring yesterday without even knowing it!

Here's the scene:

I was at the Utah Flash NBA-D-League game against the visiting Idaho Stampede writing for the Deseret News at the McKay Events Center on the Utah Valley University campus. (That was a long, convoluted sentence.)

I had a spot at a table on the baseline about 15 feet to the side of the basket right next to a Toronto Raptors scout and two other NBA scouts. The Toronto guy was there to see this big fellow:

Idaho Stampede center Nathan Jawai

Anyway, I was sitting there trying to get my story started during halftime after a pretty lackluster first half. I was partially distracted, though, because they do all sorts of half-time junk and I became slightly intrigued by the prospect of 10 or so people trying to hit half-court shots for NBA-D-League playoff tickets.

(Not that it would be amazing for someone to win tickets that they are practically giving away anyway, but watching people foolishly loft up shots they will most likely not make is always entertaining.)

Anyway, I had half an eye on the proceedings and suddenly I noticed a larger man about 55 years old or so getting ready for his shot. They asked him if he would get a Flash tattoo if he made it and he said he'd ask his wife. Anyway, as he was winding up, I could tell he wasn't going to hit the basket, but he might hit me.

Sure enough, once the ball was airborne I knew it was headed right for my MacBook Pro and me, and I, not one who is very interested in destroying the company loaner, determined that I must block it away.

This all happened in mere seconds. As the ball drew nearer and I saw its trajectory would land it right on my computer or head, I rose to make my deflection. I'd hoped to send it back onto the court with a volleyball-style pass, but a basketball doesn't behave like a volleyball and it flew up into the stands behind me.

I was safe. The computer was safe. The Toronto Raptors' scout was safe.

I thought all was hunky-dory until one of the ushers came up to me with my wedding ring on his finger!

YIPES! I get so nervous about that darn thing. My hands are always changing temperatures and sometimes that thing is stuck on so tight I can hardly get it off, and other times ready to just slip off without me even knowing it. Let's not even talk about how it is when that thing has soap on it!

Well, I was relieved the usher returned it, but horrified anew at how easy it is for that thing to slip away. Sometimes I have to stick it on my right hand, just to make sure it doesn't go anywhere. (For some reason it's thicker, I guess since I'm right handed.)

I told the scout that my wife would be pretty sad if I lost that, and he seemed to thing she'd be sadder if the computer got obliterated. I don't think so, except it has some photos on it.

Anyway, in the end -- the wedding ring was safe.

--Tooth

Ein Film, un film, фильм

2009-03-10T11:33:00.002-04:00

As I mentioned previously, Tirza and I have been watching some pretty amazing foreign films lately. It's hard to stop! I'm going to write about the films here, but I'm not a film critic so I'm not going to try to dissect them, only tell you which ones I watched.

Last night we watched another and had Critter over because it was half in Russian and have in French. I'll explain in a minute.

The first film we watched was a fun little story called "Kolya" from the Czech Republic. It's about a poor Czech musician who is convinced by a friend to marry a Russian woman in exchange for money. The movie is set in the late 1980s, just prior to the end of Soviet communist domination in Eastern Europe. The only problem is that the woman comes with some baggage: Kolya, her little Russian son. At first the boy drives the musician crazy, but by and by, he grows on him. Anyway, it's a good one. We watched it in Czech and Russian with English subtitles. Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film in 1996.

The next film we watched is called "Les Choristes" or "The Chorus" and comes from France. Although the second of all the films I watched, this one is possibly still my favorite. The story follows a man as he arrives at a French boy's reform school to assume the post of prefect after the previous one had quit. Immediately he can see a number of changes he could make at the school but often butts heads with the nasty headmaster. One of the changes he desires is to form the boys into a chorus, which he does. It's an excellent story and the acting is wonderful and the characters are endearing. (Except a couple, who I hated.) In French with English subtitles. Academy Award nominee in 2005.

Those first two films were a little more lighthearted than our next couple of selections. We got into a bit of a WWII fling with some German films and they deal with some heavier issues than the others. They weren't exactly films on Patton or Rommel or Hitler or Eisenhower, but rather films about people in Germany and other countries and some of the difficulties they experienced with the war right in their backyard.

We checked out "Sophie Scholl" from the library and settled in for a painful look into the true story of the arrest, interrogation, trial, and sentence of Sophie Scholl, her brother Hans Scholl and their friend Christoph Probst in 1943. They were all part of the "White Rose" group which distributed a number of anti-war, anti-Nazi leaflets in German during WWII. One of the parts that makes the story so difficult is the fact that it really happened. That people were so willing to put everything on the line for their beliefs and that the Nazi regime was so cold, cruel and vicious toward the people it was supposedly there to protect. The silver lining is the amazing strength exhibited by the "White Rose" and by Sophie Scholl in particular. This one is amazing. In German with English subtitles, also an Academy Award nominee in 2006.

Then we went on to another Czech film, "Divided We Fall" which is set in Czechoslovakia during the Nazi occupation of WWII. It's the story of a childless Czech couple living in the occupation in a nice apartment when a Jewish man who used to live in the neighborhood -- who was "deported" -- returns. They hide the man in their apartment at the peril of their own lives and his. Things are only complicated daily by a friend -- a Czech National who works for the Nazis -- who comes by for a visit every day. This is a based on actual events, but is quite a bit more lighthearted than "Sophie Scholl." But, it does have some difficult moments as well, since it deals with war, occupation and oppression. In Czech and German with English subtitles. Nominated for an Academy Award in 2001.

After those two, we kept on our WWII theme and picked up "Rosenstrasse" another German film. Also based on actual events, "Rosenstrasse" is an example of Aryan women who were married to Jewish men in WWII. Talk about a difficult situation to be in. The Nazis obviously respected the birth and ethnicity of each woman, but degraded and mocked them for their choice in marriage. They were all offered quick and easy divorces from their husbands, which some refused but a great number took. In Berlin, after a number of Jewish husbands were rounded up and imprisoned at a local factory, the women converged on the place to stage a seven-day protest in 1943 to get their husbands back. This one is a tear-jerker indeed. Those women were champs and their dedication to their husbands and their solidarity with each other just warms your little heart. In German with English subtitles.

The latest one, which we watched last night with Critter, is called, "East/West" and is a French-made film. The story is based on a situation in post-war Europe where the Soviet government offered to take back Russians who had emigrated from Russia during the war. In particular, this movie focuses on a Russian doctor who had immigrated to France and married a French woman. They decide to move back to Russia, thinking their lives will be okay, but quickly realize the difficult situation they find themselves in upon their arrival. From the moment they arrive, all they can do is think about their escape from the vicious rule of the Soviet regime, bur escape from the Soviet Union, even for a French national, is anything but easy. In Russian and French with English subtitles. This one is the winner of a number of international film awards in 1999.

Anyway, those are the films we've been watching. I just want to say, I'm not here to make a comment on the content of these films. They all deal with adult topics and situations and anyone who wants to watch them should research their content for themselves prior to viewing.

I will say, however, that watching films while listening to them in the language they were created in makes for a much more enjoyable cinematic experience. I think I realized this for the first time when I watched, "Life is Beautiful" for the first time. I recall starting the movie with an English voiceover and quickly realized that was a mistake. The original Italian was 1,000 times better. I think the same goes for French, German, Russian, Czech, Mongolian, etc.

These are the ones we've watched recently, but there are certainly many, many others. We have two more checked out that we're hoping to watch in the next week or so. One is called, "Joyeux Noël" and is set in WWI and the other is called "Paradise Now" and is a Palestinian film that follows a couple of friends who are recruited to become suicide bombers in Israel. I saw it a few years back and that it was pretty good.

I would also recommend "Life is Beautiful," even though I’m sure a lot of people have already seen it. Additionally, I'd recommend, "The Weeping Camel" from Mongolia. It's a fun one and the Mongolians are spot on. (Since they are Mongolians, that makes sense).

The End.

--Tooth

Dreaming of a place...

2009-03-05T11:14:00.002-05:00

I had a dream.

This isn't like a Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. dream, this was more of a "I was sleeping in my bed and I had a dream," kind of dream. Only this one I remembered when I woke up!

Well, I guess I remembered it because I woke up at abou5 5:30 a.m because I was ROASTING! Sometimes our room gets so hot because we live in the basement of Tirza's sister's house. We don't have a thermostat. So, sometimes it's ROASTING and other times it's FREEZING, and there's not much we can do about it.

Tuesday morning early it was roasting when I woke up right in the middle of a dream. It was a crazy one, and I thought I'd share it here because there were some pretty funny parts.

First thing I can remember was Tirza and I trying to make our way through an airport-type building that straddled the U.S. Mexican border -- maybe in Tijuana. (At least in the dream).

So, we weren't getting on a plane, we were just going to Mexico and had a whole bunch of luggage with us. Tirza had planned the trip. We wound our way through this building and it kind of was like what you'd imagine the buildings are like in the DMZ between North and South Korea (unless you've been there, then you wouldn't have to imagine).

It was pretty nice at first, and then the building started to get kind of old and dilapidated. Finally we made it to the other side and there waiting for us in Mexico in an old car which seemed to be whitewashed by hand like a fence, were our Mongolian taxi driver and his Mongolian wife.

They helped us load all of our junk into their car and Tirza even knew a few important phrases to use with them. Our next stop was the grocery store. Upon collecting all of the items we intended to purchase, we were told at the check-out counter that we wouldn't be able to buy half of them if we didn't get at least a few hundred dollars cash back.

We thought this was abusurd, so we put back the half we couldn't buy without the cash back and just got the ones we could. One of the other workers was yelling at the checker that she was cheating us and that she wasn't following the rules, but to no avail.

Then suddenly I found myself back in sort of a dusty town square where we were picked up by our Mongolians and I was in the back of a flat-bed truck. A large German shepherd was trying to bite me and I was trying to fend him off with a large blue women's handbag. Out of nowhere the vicious dog turned into a giant blue tarp that took on a sort of life-like form.

A shredded slit appeared in the side of the blob-shaped tarp creature and it be began to speak to -- AS RUSH LIMBAUGH! I knew there was nothing else to do but beat the Rush Blob with the big blue women's handbag as well. I swung the bag at the crude polyethylene figure with all my might as it shrieked out threats and accusations of liberal agendas and how I would be the downfall of America as we know it.

My encounter with Rush Limbaugh embodied in a blue tarp could have been the reason for my toastiness, I can't be sure.

Next thing I know, I was racing back through the airport building in search of my digital voice recorder, I didn't want to lose a four-hour interview with Pomp. Well, I found it on a table. On my way back, I met this gross lady and her sticky husband. They were sick. We made it back through the building and got into a convertable with some other people. They all wanted to talk to me, so I chatted with them and found the gross lady was from Pepperell, MA -- but she lived on a street I'd never heard of in my life.

THEN she tried to kiss me with her nasty mouth and I almost threw up, so I kept all of the spit in my mouth and then spit it behind me out the side of the car as we drove and it landed on her face and I was pleased with myself.

Then I woke up.

I don't know where that dream came from, but it was a wild one. My favorite part was the Rush Limbaugh part. The dream seems funnier in my mind, it probably isn't that funny now that it's written down. Too bad

That's my post.

--Tooth

Keeping it up

2009-03-04T00:57:00.003-05:00

All I have to say for today is that I wrote a story on the Jonas Brothers.

Yup, that's the Stadium of Fire act this year in Provo. I'm not sure if I feel better or worse about that than Miley Cyrus headlining last year's show. You know, I'm not really sure why I should care either. So, I guess I don't.

COME ON DOWN JONAS BROTHERS! I don't care.

So, I'm still thinking about whether to post something on my blog every day this month like Bob did last month. Still thinking about it -- so I'm writing today just to make sure. (I realize there was no Mar. 1 blog post, but that's because I hadn't thought about it at that point. Besides, I wrote on this sucker on Friday (Feb. 27). That should count.

What I'd like to talk about is movies, but I'm too tired for that. But, never fear, I shall return again in the very near future (like tomorrow) and talk about movies.

I'll give a sneak peak, though. My wife (the Lovely Tirza Ramona Watts Davis) and I have been on a foreign film kick the last few weeks. Let's just say this: we like them. In fact, we're in love with a number of them. That's it.

Then we watched Valkyrie at the dollar movie theater on 75 cents night (Tuesday). The costumes were fantastic, the sets and locations were great, but the German was bad (bad as in non-existant) and Tom Cruise wasn't a very convincing German in the first place. Anyway, I'll explain further in a future post. Suffice it to say this: we liked our foreign film choices far better than we enjoyed Valkyrie. (Which is not to say Valkyrie was a terrible movie, it wasn't, we just didn't think it was great. The End.

--Tooth

It worked so well the first time...

2009-03-02T15:44:00.006-05:00

Since writing a blog post Friday got such a wild response from my fine readers, why not delight them with another? Especially since Bob (my sister) isn't writing a blog post every day in March (as she did in February). Do I now have to write one every day in March myself? Can I do it? I guess I have until tomorrow at midnight to think about that.

In the meantime, I think I should put up another photo.

Which one to choose, which one to choose...

Can't go wrong with a picture of Pomp, who inspired the name for this blog anyway. That's a prety funny photo, eh? It's from Christmas when he opened his bacon grease catcher. I just love that face. I imagine him saying something like this: "Well, I don't rightly know what that cotton-pickin' thing is. Wouldn't know what to do with it if I had it. Oh...er...won't use it anyway," although he'd probably end up using it every time he made bacon for the rest of his life. (TO MUMFORT: Here is the rolling pin maker man.)

I actually had a pretty good conversation with on Friday evening. I wanted to talk London broil, and he did too, fortunately. It was a pretty good conversation. We talked about what you'd want to marinate the meat in the night before. We went through a whole list of random things from meat tenderizer, to Worcestershire sauce, to seasoning salt to vinegar to "old wine." That's what he said, said you just couldn't go wrong with, "wine nobody would want to be drinking anymore."

Then he thought of one other ingredient that made it taste pretty good, but couldn't think of the name. It's description went like this: "That salty stuff the Chinaman puts on stuff." I wracked my brain for a minute and finally got it! SOY SAUCE! And that was it -- the salty stuff the Chinaman puts on stuff.

Well, meat aside, Pomp wanted to talk papayas too. He informed me that he could eat an entire box of papayas in one sitting if someone gave him the chance. Well, the little yellow ones, mind you. Not the big heavy ones they sell by the pound, which are pink the middle. The little yellow ones from Hawaii (if something comes from Hawaii, it's the best in the world to Pomp) and you don't want to eat them until they are squishy like a ripe tomato on the outside. All good information to know. And he doesn't really care for mangoes.

Then, since Tirza and I were about to feast on some salmon that evening, Pomp didn't mind talking fish too. Salmon is always a, "good way to go." He always says that about stuff. Well, he instructed me on making sure my salmon didn't cook too long. Then I told him we'd had some Ahi tuna a bit ago, and he said that was pretty strong fish. That was when he wanted to talk about "wine that nobody's going to be drinking anymore."

He said you just marinade fish that would stink up the whole room in some old wine, and then it's not stinky anymore. The stinkiest, he said, is bonita. Well, I never have eaten bonita, but I guess it's a pretty nasty fish. With a little old wine, though, I guess you'll be all right. Can't say the next time I'll have a combination of both on hand, but when and if I do, I'll certainly know what to do with them.

Anyway, that's how it went with Pomp. For those of you who don't know him, this may not seem as amusing. For those of you who do, well…good for you.

--Tooth

PS: Pomp was the man who married my wife and me to each other in the Los Angeles Temple on October 25, 2008. What a champ.

Hello? Hello out there?

2009-02-27T16:41:00.011-05:00

So,

I haven't put anything up on this blog for a while. Maybe it's because I write for a living and don't always get around to writing away from work. Whatever the reason may be, I'm writing on it today. Actually, I don't think I'm going to be doing much in the way of writing, but more in the way of putting up some photos. I think people would rather look at those than read what I have to say. So there.

So, Tirza and I decided to go car shopping as newlyweds. We settled on this fine-tuned piece of auto engineering from Deutschland. Tirza wanted something fast, I wanted something practical -- this is the only one we were really able to compromise on. It's really a thrill to have this new member in our family.

We also went to Boston and found some pizza. Yum. Who had ever thought of putting all of those yummy things on pizza? I sure hadn't. Since it was so drafty by the window, they provided us with some lovely pillows. Delightful. A blanket might have been a tad more appropriate. But pizza eaters can't always be choosers.

While we were there, Tirza opened up a new store.

Did I mention we had Christmas too? Well, we did. Not only did we have Christmas, but we saved Christmas by getting the Christmas tree. I ought to write a whole post on that.

We had a party with some cookies too!

So, Ben got hitched in San Diego and we went down to celebrate. Let's just say San Diego is a nice place to be on the 19th of December.

Might as well put two photos in of that shindig.

We went to Thanksgiving in Cedar City and I had to borrow one of Grandpa Dickinson's suits. As you can see, I think I got the shorter end of the stick. (He woke up first -- he got to pick suits first.)

And that, my faithful, patient readers. Is all I have to say about that for now. I think pictures do make things better.

--Tooth

Gettin' Hitched

2008-11-07T18:21:00.001-05:00

My two or three blog readers all know I got hitched on the 25th of October to Tirza -- the amazing Coach -- Watts. Now she's Coach Davis.

What I realized, is that getting married to the Coach has seriously changed my regular sports following habits. I shall illustrate.

After five years of near-perfect dedication to the BYU Women's Soccer Team, I realized this weekend -- when I read BYU had finished the regular season undefeated in conference -- that I has missed the boat on that one! Yipes. I didn't even realize it had gone by so fast. Not that Tirza and I didn't enjoy going to soccer games -- we do -- but it just didn't rise up the priority list as it had in the past.

That got me thinking: what else did I miss out on?

Well, it turns out, that for the first time in FOREVER I missed out on my fantasy football team for not one, not two but for three weeks! Who knew? I can't remember ever losing a fantasy football game in my life for the simple reason I didn't put any of my players in because I was too concerned about being married. (Maybe it's because I never got married before...) As it turned out, however, I managed to squeak out two consecutive wins after losing to the worst team in the league! Sheesh.

Want to talk baseball? I only watched the second edition of Game 5 of the World Series, you know, the resumed Game 5 that lasted three innings and was apparently an instant classic? I barely would have gone to bed without knowing the outcome of such an affair in the past, much less wait until the next day to find out about it. Sheesh again. I guess the thin, mountain Tahoe air was getting to me.

Additionally, I missed one BYU home game and missed another televised game! (I will admit, I was getting married when the first one was going on.) There were only two other games I've ever missed live since I've had tickets to BYU football. I missed the Georgia Tech game in 2003 because I was in Nebraska and hadn't made it to Utah yet. (It took time to put that Intrepid back together before I could drive it.) The other game was the Wyoming game in 2004 at home, it was the same night the Red Sox dropped to 0-3 to the Yankees in the ALCS after a 19-8 loss. Bleh. The last thing I wanted to do was drag myself over to Edwards Stadium to watch football.

(I've had season tickets for the 2000, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007 and 2008 seasons of BYU football. I've seen a game or two, but I can't say I'm totally excited about this Saturday's game against SDSU. I'm almost certain we'll win, and that the offense will be incredible. But I don't look forward to our season coming to the point (in two weeks) where we have to play a potentially 11-0 Utah squad with BSC aspirations -- in Salt Lake. I'm not sure I can bear it. I'm sick thinking about it. Well, I feel lots better about our chances than I did in 2004. (When we had no chance.))

As far as basketball is concerned, the Jazz are playing their fifth game of the season, and I've yet to see one. (I guess that's what happens when your TV is in Provo with cable and you live in Orem with no cable.) I guess I'll be reading a little more. I'm not sure I want to pay for cable. I never had it as a kid -- why do I need it now? The only thing cable seems to do for me is to make me watch more football.

Anyway, that's about all I have to say about that. Oh, I decided I needed to sign off with a new name -- Tooth.

Tooth

Doc

2008-11-06T15:47:00.000-05:00

In light of some happenings in the recent election, I thought I'd wax reminiscent of my old friend Mr. Arleigh "Doc" D. Richardson.

He's the little old man Critter and I worked for for many years before he passed away. If you knew Doc, you'd remember that he tooled around in his little white Toyota RAV4, two hands on the 10 and 2 position leaned forward with a mustached-covered grin as he drove by with a wave.

If you ever checked out the back of his RAV4, you'd notice a "Stop Greyhound Racing" bumper sticker on the back bumper. Doc used to have a greyhound he'd salvaged from the races and allowed to run wild around his big yard. The dog had gotten injured and they were going to put it down before Doc stepped in and got the dog.

I just noticed Massachusetts passed an initiative banning dog racing in the state and couldn't help but picture Doc smiling down from up above, happy with that one. He was a good one, that Doc. He served in the Navy in WW II and actually was on a personnel carrier on D-Day + 1 that sunk off of Normandy. I think it was Omaha beach. He was running troops to shore when they hit a mine, I believe. He had a scar on his forehead to show for it.

He taught English and literature at Lawrence Academy and loved to talk hockey or Red Sox, especially if one of his former students was playing. (Hockey, that is.) We did a little work for him, but the best part about visiting with Doc was having tea and cookies or punch with him and Joan, his British wife when the work was done. We sit and eat and drink and chat in his kitchen, right next to his woodstove that we fed throughout the winter.

Doc wasn't too excited at first when I told him I was going on a mission. He thought I'd have to drop out of school. Assured that BYU would let me back in when I returned, Doc was excited for my chance to go to the great wilds of Mongolia. My first journal on my mission was written in an old, bound notebook he gave me. It says "James' Journal" in it in his handwriting.

Doc took quite an interest in Pomp, and called him Gramps. He loved to chat with Pomp when he stopped by and got into a habit of bringing by old furniture for Pomp to refashion, repair or refinish. He got such a kick out of Pomp's woodworking abilities.

Anyway, I digress. That's Doc. He would have liked the Coach because she likes Europe and she likes to read.

Anyway, it's a good day for Doc and his dogs.

CHAMPS!

2008-10-20T17:59:00.000-04:00

I should mention here that Tirza's intramural volleyball team won their tournament champion complete with T-shirt this past Saturday. It was her first intramural championship!

I must also say, that the won it in splendid fashion.

Tirza's team, called RSC (I don't know what it means, she didn't name it), played the Stars in the regular season and beat them.

In the third or fourth round of the double-elimination tournament, however, the Stars knocked RSC into the losers' bracket with a 2-0 sweep.

RSC won out in the losers' bracket to set up a rematch in the semifinal game. (Let me remind you, in a double-elimination tournament, you finally end up with a team with no losses playing a team with one loss in the tournament "semifinal."

In that match, the winner's bracket team with no losses, in this case the Stars, only needs to win that match to be the champs. (In intramural volleyball you win a match by winning two out of three games). The losers' bracket winner, in this case RSC, needs to win the first match to set up a final game against two teams with one loss each.

The Stars came out and won the first game of the first match and things looked bleak for RSC. It looked like their chances had run out. Then, they came from behind to win the second game of the match (played to 25) before winning the third game (played to 15) and ultimately the first match.

The Stars were stunned with their first loss in a while and struggled to regain their composure in the third game.

In the first final game, the Stars got out to a HUGE lead, something like 22-16 and looked like they were back and ready to take control. All of a sudden, however, they couldn't stop RSC and pretty soon the score was knotted at 25-25. (You have to win by two.) They went back and forth before RSC finished them off 30-28! It was a comeback for the ages. The second game of the final match was never close, and RSC went on to capture their first-ever championship to the tune of 25-14.

Tirza started out the season unsure of her volleyball skills, but a little practice here and there and eventually her team was singing her praises. She started out figuring out how to be a steady server, then she became one of the better passers on the team, followed by setting skills and toward the end of the season acquired a mean spike. She even came up with a pretty nifty block against a bigger girl in one of the games. In one facet of the game, however, she out-shined all others: double-fisted setting/passing. Few have been known to possess sufficient control over the double-fisted punch set in volleyball, and none has likely displayed it in serious competition better than our very own Coach. Well, my Coach. Our Coach. Soon-to-be Coach. Whatever. She's Tirza and she's the CHAMP!

Slicker 'an a Hound's Tooth

2008-10-03T16:10:00.000-04:00

Well,
I figured I ought to explain myself when it comes to the name of this blog. Perhaps, you (one of my two readers) have sat wondering where in the world such a name comes from. I'll tell you: Pomp.

Who is Pomp? Some may know, others may not, but Pomp is grandpa William Richard Davis. Born on May 30, 1916 in Cumberland County, Tennessee. The MAN grew up in a small cabin in the woods and nearly lived off what his family could produce or make with their own hands. He's a Jack of all trades.

One of the best parts about Pomp are the similes he has stored up in his brain, which can pop out unannounced at any given time, during any given activity.

Slicker 'an a Hound's Tooth is what he says if an object goes into something smoothly like a knife and its sheath, or if something is slick or smooth. It's not really referring to things icy, just something smooth like a piece of marble or something. Or a process that was slick or smooth. The words are slicker than a hound's tooth.

Another one that is among my favorites is Pomp's phrase -- "deaf as a doornail." This is usually in reference to his own condition of limited hearing capacity. I suppose a doornail is a nail used in making a door and they're obviously hard of hearing. He will, however say that he "can't year thunder."

One that we use in our family and he has been heard using is "bald as a biscuit." I understand this one originated from his mother, who probably had more similes than Pomp.

A while back I heard him use the phrase " bleeding like a stuck pig" when he was talking about someone who cut their finger or something. Then I heard my grandmother, his wife Francys, using the same phrase.

A really good one he used one time was "colder than a well digger's behind." That one was classic. It was kind of like "cooler than a breeze through a peach orchard," but funnier.

My grandmother Francys Davis was telling me of a time when she and Pomp were just married and they went down to Tennessee to visit Pomp's mother. Gram thought Pomp's mother might have forgotten who she was, so she re-introduced herself. This prompted Pomp's mother to answer, "I'd know your hide in a tanning yard!" As if she could ever forget her own daughter-in-law, even if she was a Yankee from up north!

The End.

To Blog On Ice Cream

2008-10-03T16:04:00.000-04:00

So,
The Salt Lake Tribune wrote an article on the Creamery Rivalry between Utah State and BYU as the two schools' football teams are set to square off against each other this evening.
Well, Critter and I weren't exactly sold on it.

Most notably, the writer interviewed the head of Dining Services at BYU, who is clueless when it comes to making ice cream. All he knows about the Creamery is that we make ice cream and he earns money off it. They should have interviewed some of the real ice cream folks.

Second, the director of dining services said that LaVell's Vanilla is the most popular ice cream at BYU, but Critter and I disagreed. We felt like Cookies and Cream and Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough were the most popular because we can hardly keep them on the shelves!

Finally, they did a taste test and awarded the Aggie ice cream as the winner, only they didn't test two equal flavors against each other. They had a peanut buttery one from USU and a caramel marshmellow one from BYU. Apples and Oranges if you ask me. A true test would have pitted vanilla against vanilla or mint chip against mint chip.

If I remember correctly, Bizzy and Co. came to town a few years back and joined me for some ice cream. Meghan had recently eaten Aggie mint chip and, after tasting BYU's offering, declared our ice cream superior to the dairy product from the north.

At least the article pointed out that BYU's ice cream contained 14 percent butter fat to USU's 12 percent butter fat.

http://www.sltrib.

com/Features/ci_10594189

First Time

2008-09-28T22:23:00.000-04:00

Well, it looks like I will officially become a blogger the moment I post this composition. I'm not sure I have much to say at this point, but I'm a little big excited about having a blog. The End.