The Fam Damily Reunion

I give all credit to Dr. Nick, he came up with the plan last Christmas to have a 'family reunion' the first real one in the Lowell Larsen clan. So we made plans all year to spend the 4th of July in Midway Utah and it turned out to be a lot of fun. (despite the 1600 miles we drove to get there and back, see Tasha's blog for details of the merriment) Andrew was on a fishing boat in the Bering Sea so we knew he couldn't make it, but everybody in the lower 48 except Gordons family was there.

The Fourth in Midway is small town, old school, good clean family, patriotic fun. It started early with the dynamite blasts that I heard all the way up at the Zermatt Resort. We went to the early morning patriotic music, speech and flag ceremony where Grandma Larsen played the piano for the Swiss Chorus. Fun at Grandpa's place a big barbeque and fireworks rounded out the day. It was great to see everyone. Grandma and Grandpa Larsen made a huge effort and the place looked great and the food was great too. I was proud of all my kids who all made a big effort to be there, thanks Ty & Sloan, Tasha who took a lot time off work and the Boo.

There was some crazy talk of having it in Coeur d'Alene next year but I'll believe that when I see it. (you would think I lived in Winnemucca Nevada or something the way I get family visits)

"Family is all you got, everyone else is just strangers" - Wyatt Earp

Why I Sat Here

The scene is the Coeur d'Alene High School Gymnasium, the event - Boo's graduation. It is too small for the amount of people that want to attend so tickets are required and the sheep start lining up 2 hours beforehand. I stall Lisa for awhile but we still get there an hour and a half before kickoff. I drop her off and go park hoping to delay my own entrance by a half hour or so. But she calls me and is waiting at the door with my ticket, damn, a tactical error on my part.

We go in and her parents are there saving some seats that I immediately don't like. Second row of the bleachers, not an aisle seat for me. And worst of all right in front of us a four generation white trash family straight from the Jerry Springer Show. I'm sure they are decent people and I don't think I'm better than anyone else per se but I am not spending the next three hours in that spot.

I voice my objections to the skirt and she flips out, muttering threats and insults at my lack of enthusiasm. I try real hard to be a good boy but I can't. The patriarch of the hillbilly bunch is right in front of me, real close. The aromas that waft gently in the stale gym air are of Brylcream, Brut aftershave, stale cig smoke and Jack Daniels, all together are quite powerful as well as revolting,

I look for an escape, but quite frankly all the seats look like hell to me, but up in the balcony I spot some seats against the wall on the aisle with a hand rail in front. Protection and a degree of isolation call to me. I tell Tasha who is ready to bolt also, I feel I have nothing much more to fear from the skirt as she is already mad at me anyway, of course this will make her furious but I weigh the consequences against my own sanity and plot my escape. It came sooner than I thought as the aforementioned gentleman in front of me commenced farting before actual commencement started. I bolted for the cheap seats and never looked back. It was great up there and we enjoyed the proceedings from a lofty perch. Tasha was able to tell me when Boo walked in, as I couldn't see that far, but all in all a good thing. Of course I got the occasional text message from the missus with more veiled threats and instructions on going down to get a pic of Boo getting his sheepskin (which I did) And that's why I sat where I did.

Boo Done Graduated

Well our baby has graduated from Coeur d'Alene High School so I am officially done parenting. I will now board a Winnebago and go to Mexico for the rest of my life. Its been real and its been fun but it hasn't always been real fun. Everybody keep on keepin on. Send postcards (and money) thanks.

Bryant & The Beast

Boo's latest play is amazing. Beauty and The Beast is awesome, performed at the beautiful Bing Crosby Theater in Spokane this is Bry's best one yet. He is the Beast (and prince) and plays the part perfectly. His singing has pretty much blown everyone away. Hidden talent and a lot of hard work.

Opening night was special and since I am one of the few people in the world that hadn't seen the Disney movie I didn't even know the story. So when Bry is transformed from the Beast to the Prince at the end it really hit me. Seeing this tall handsome prince emerge from the fog I couldn't believe it was him. It seems like just the other day he was a chubby little kid running around the house keeping us entertained. Now he is this accomplished young man who everybody loves because he is not only likeable but a genuinely good person. We are proud of you Boo, your future is bright.

Mi Casa Es Kickassa

We moved again. Nothing new there, we've moved more times than you can shake your stick at in our 26 plus years together. But this time was a good one. Its a home on five acres, lots of trees - privacy and a river runs through it. Ok its a small stream but you can grasp the gravity of the symbolism here. Also there is a seperate building that looks like a shed but inside is an awesome room with wood walls and a wood burning stove. My 'man room' that holds all my fly fishing gear, guns, desk, fridge and soon a pool table. From my desk the view is of my drift boat with the stream behind it. Yea baby. The house is remodeled with lots of granite, tile, wood floors etc. and an incredible wine cellar with rock walls and wood shelves (it can hold about two thousand bottles so send what you got I need to stock up). The snag is we are leasing it and it is not for sale. I have been studying squatter rights and have no plans on leaving, ever. Come visit if you want. Were living the freaking North Idaho dream here.

Hypertension My Ass

So I had to go for another DOT physical the other day. I hate the damn things and I just had one last year. They only gave me one year instead of two because of high blood pressure. Well after the humilating ball grabbing and other bullcrap they tell me my blood pressure is too high again. I'm not really sold on the importance of this little test so I don't care too much. But they only give me a three month card after which I have to pass the test or not drive.
The place is a McDoctor office with drive thru service. The young doctor who looks like a cross between Howdy Doody and Dwight Shrute asks me who my primary care physician is. I tell him it is Dr. Gordon Larsen and secondary is a certain Dr. Nick of Cheyenne. I blame both of them for this as it happened on their watch.
The magic number which means very little to me is 134 over 98. Apparently the first number is ok and the second sucks it up. So he goes over the stuff I shouldn't do, smoke, drink, eat, have fun etc. So I will try and loose some weight and maybe take some medication and see what happens. I guess this stuff runs in the family.
Looking at the average fat ass truck driver out there with a cigarette in one hand and bean burrito in the other and being told I'm not fit to join their ranks is a little disturbing. In fact it really pisses me off which as I'm told doesn't help the situation at all.

Drilled Again

I am going to be a driller. I am leaving tomorrow for 20 days in Nevada where I will train to run a core drill. All in all a good thing I guess. The other job was getting me home more often but I was only making about half what I will make going on a drill. Also I get to kinda skip the whole 'helper' gig which is great. Usually you have to be a helper which is a shitty job for a year before you get on the controls but I guess I have paid my dues in other ways.
I am definetely not looking forward to the 20 day hitch with 12 hours days with the last ten days on night shift. But it should open up some other opportunities and I will make more money so I decided to give it a whirl.
I will be in Battle Mountain Nevada if you need me. We are drilling on surface at a pretty nice location on a mountainside only about 10 miles out of town. Could be worse. I will let you know how it goes.
Peace.

Weaver Water

The bottled water craze has got thinking about how much things have changed. Watching Boo walking around here with a bottle of water in his hand, sipping out the side of his mouth (which I find infuriating) is much different than my own experience. While walking around here picking up half empty bottles and plastic caps that he enjoys throwing all over the place I can recall a simpler time when I drank from the damn garden hose.

Back in the day we had no bottled water at all, didn't exist. The only thing you were supposed to know about drinking the water was that you weren't supposed to drink from the outside taps that were irrigation water. 'Weaver Water' we called it, although I think it was actually Weber Irrigation Water. You find a hose to get a drink and some smart ass would scream "Weaver Water!' and you had to look elsewhere to slake your thirst. The Weaver faucets had these little removable handles that we briefly made a hobby of stealing until we had a box of hundreds of them and then me and Andy got caught snagging one by an old disgruntled man who had been a multiple victim. He slapped us both silly and we lost our zest for the sport. But I digress. The removable handles were made so that nobody mistook the water as potable and that kids wouldn't drink it.

After 40 years I will let you in on a dirty little secret I drank Weaver water all the damn time. You turned on the hose it looked great, cool and wet. What's the problem? Why go in the house? Fact of the matter is it never hurt me, in fact I think it made my guts stronger. I have never had Giardia or other water borne bugs bother me at all. I once took a hearty draught of Deep Creek water and then walked 50 feet upstream to view the putrified and gelatin like remains of a big fat sheep oozing into small globs that were drifting downstream. Other than some hyper gagging I was fine. From desert water holes to Mexico and back I can drink the water.

So while the next generation pussyfoots its way through a sterile world of Perrier and Aquafina I am ready for the Appocolypse when a dirty jug of Weaver Water is all you can get. I'll chug a lug that shit no problem.

For The Love of Spuds

I grew up with five brothers. Food was vitally important, we attacked the food supply with abandon. I was hungry for 17 years. I ate whenever I could and ate as much as I could as fast as I could. This has left me with a few lingering bad habits including eating too fast and eating until the food is gone. Leftovers were non-existent growing up. Never heard the word, didn't comprehend it.
When I first got married Lisa fixed me dinner and made a gigantic bowl of mashed potatoes that could have fed ten people. As was my custom I ate until it was gone. Never heard of anyone foundering themselves on potatoes until that day, and it wasn't pretty.
I remember Sunday dinners as a youngster. Pot roast, corn and mashed potatoes, mmm can still smell it. And every Sunday it was the same, mom would sit down and say the words I dreaded more than any other. "Take it easy on the potatoes" It was liked getting kicked in the junk. So the first brother to scoop spuds was watched intently by ten crazed eyeballs. If you took too much the words "pig, hog, sow" said in quick run together fashion was thrown about by everyone. After the meager portion of mashed spuds were gone it was time for Plan B which included taking a piece of bread breaking it up sacrament style and pouring gravy over it. This continued until the gravy gave out which was a sad moment indeed.
Ironically when I got older and found out how cheap potatoes were I was furious. I thought the damn things were precious, pricey, imported and hard to come by. I think my mom was limited in the cooking by too small of a cooking pot. She should have procured the biggest kettle on the market kept it boiling continuously and dumped the spuds in by the gunny sack and let us little buggers eat until we keeled over with protruding bellies and glazed over eyes.
As it is I still love potatoes especially mashed. I may still eat too much but haven't foundered myself in 20 years.

Birthaday Day

Well another b-day has came and went. Lisa told me she was giving me a couples massage. I thought that meant a couple of women would massage me but turns out she was getting a massage at the same time. Oh well, no chance of a happy finish but we had a good time. Bodie and Jett called me, it was a great phone call with Jett clearly telling me happy birthday and Bodie cracking me up with his funny stuff. I had just got back from 16 days in Nevada so I didn't want to eat out so Lisa made me a great dinner and Tasha came over and we had a fun night just hanging out at home.
Another year older, what the hell I can still move like a cat and look fantastic naked so I'm good.

Half-Assed My Way To 45

Ode To Larsen

If you haven't seen it......you need to. Bryant's Ode to Larsen is great. Click on the link to his blog on the link on right of this page. With Beards of Fire I tell ya.


or click here what the hell I'll make it easy

Technology We Can Use

Bio Diesel Fuel that we have pleny of .....Fat

To power a speed boat. Brilliant.

The Holidays Are Over

Thank The Dear Lord

First Bloggers

Your Own Radio Station

This is one cool site. Create your own radio station for free.

http://www.pandora.com/

After a few songs you have to register but it is free. Have fun.

Pumpkin Patch Kids

We took Bodie and Jett to a farm North of Spokane when they were here and picked pumpkins from the fields. It was a little cold but we had fun. I chose a lovely pumpkin that Bodie and I carved on Halloween. Ty picked a subpar melon and carved it badly.

Signs

I think this is near Provo.

Juris Duticus

Being the pillar of the community that I am, I have been called for jury duty. I reported to the Federal Courthouse in Moscow, Idaho today and it turned out to be a huge waste of my time. First a 90 mile drive then waiting around for three hours in a room with 40 other people. We watched a 20 minute video aimed at informing the complete idiot about jury duty. One big point was don't feel bad if your not selected. Really, I thought it was a popularity contest. Then they left the room for hours while the judge and attorneys were trying to work out some details, they didn't say what it was but I suspect that a plea was being negotiated. Well, it didn't happen and the judge finally came in and said to go home and check back on Wenesday to see what was up. Holy crap. Some people had drove from Bonners Ferry which is 150 miles from Moscow.
Mostly what I got out of it was a renewed sense of disgust for my fellow man. Looking around at this bunch of ass clowns for hours will do that to you. Honestly I tend to be a bit of a people hater, and I sat near some auto-parts salesman that could not for the life of him shut up for more than 20 seconds. He would talk about anything with anyone, horrible small talk that was eating my brain. Its like he feared that being alone with his thoughts for more than a minute would cause him to burst into flames. By the way if you want a diverse jury pool don't come to North Idaho, 40 people and we were all delightfully white as a Nephite. It was the dirty white boys or nothing. ( well, about ten women where there too ) Anyway, after three hours my loathing was keen as a weasel. I hope I don't have to go back and I'm sure they don't want me.

Getcha Yer Head Out

Bryant surprised me the other day when he asked if we had a basketball. In 17 years that would be the first time he wanted a sports related item of any kind. I told him to look in the garage. He comes back in with it and starts dribbling and whipping it around, decides its not good enough and heads to the store for a new one. What in the f.........?
Turns out he is in the school play "High School Muscial" and has a singing and dancing number called 'Get Yer Head In The Game' that requires a basketball and some dribbling and passing. Ahhh, makes sense now. Gotta love the Boo.