One Tough Dude

In the post office, I hand a filled-out form to the clerk.

He reviews the form and says, "Chance, is that how you sez it?"

"Yeah," I reply.

"Well, when I was in boot camp, I had a drill instructor: Sergeant Chance. He was one tough dude. Do you know any Chance like that?"

"I don't know of any Chances that were drill instructors. How long ago was that?"

"Oh, gosh, over thirty years ago. Don't think things in the military are as tough as that anymore."

"Yeah, nowadays the DI probably gives out M&M's for good behavior," I joke.

"They never let us have sweets in boot camp. When we got CARE boxes from home, we had to open them up in front of the DI and the troops. I remember when a friend opened up a box from his mother that was all cookies--chocolate chip. Sergeant Chance made him dump them on the ground and then Sergeant Chance stomped them into dust. I'll never forget that Sergeant Chance--one tough dude."

Uncle Dick

Natalie and Rebecca,

 

Here is a scanned copy of a copy that Aunt Elvera sent me a decade ago.

 

The first time we Chances met Richard Slabey was in August 1947, when Elvera brought him from Minneapolis to Great Falls by train to meet her older (by 13 years) sister's family. Two years later we drove to Minneapolis to attend their wedding; Mom and Judy were part of the wedding ceremonies.

 

This picture was taken by one of Hindel's Cabins where we stayed on Lake McDonald in Glacier Park. This picture triggers many great memories.

 

I am six and standing in front of Mom. Sister Judy is almost four and standing in front of Dad who is wearing his coat and tie in Glacier. And Elvera (Fautsch) and Dick are on the right.

 

In all of these years, Uncle Dick has been my hero, role model, confident and friend. I  treasure the times he made us laugh: not ordinary laughter; not laughter experienced anywhere else; but tears in your eyes laughter that hurt and brought us to our knees.

 

Sixty-five years have gone byand now he is gone; I am deeply deeply saddened.

 

Rest in peace dear Uncle.

 

Geoff

 

 

 

 

 

 

John Denver and the Children's Chorale

A photo my daughter posted today of her, her chorus and John Denver brings back memories of the concluding performance that the Children's Chorale did in 1988 in the large Aspen concert tent with John Denver at a convention of Windstar, an environmental group founded by Denver and Tom Crum. This was the second year that the chorale had been part of the convention. I had been heavily involved in the background doing sound reinforcement and production stuff for the chorale during the three-day conference. The production director of the Windstar event was Randy Kunkel who had a daughter in the chorale. Just before the closing act where the kids were to sing their beautifully choreographed  and upbeat "Ease on Down the Road," Denver decided that it was going to make the ending too long and told Randy that he was axing their act. "Randy and John argued, but with a final plea to "trust me, John," Randy got the act back in the program.

 

There was tension as co-founder Tom Crum joined us in the sound booth for the finale. Then as the kids began to sing, a most memorable and magic moment happened: an energized audience joined in singing with the kids and began dancing in the aisles, Tom Crum shouted and danced precariously on a tall narrow stool in the sound booth. The kids had a rousing finish and ran off into the cheering crowd. Peter Kader's jazz quintet then joined in with chorale director Bob Crowder on keyboard as they improvised on the "Ease on Down the Road" theme for a quarter of an hour. Everyone hugged, laughed and danced. Conversation was limited to shouting, and the Aspen tent was shaking. Unforgettable.

Bonding time

It was bonding time for my four year old grandson and me as we aimed at floor-to-chest-high urinals--until I felt him peeing on my foot. After suggesting a forty-five degree correction, I experienced the joy of mentoring my grandson.

The Woman With The Tail

As I stood in line to order my senior coffee, I noticed that the woman in front of me had a tail. Yep, a real tail like foxes have. It emerged through her jeans right at her tail bone.

She turned toward me and I said, "There must be a story there."

"THERE'S NO F___N' STORY THERE," she shouted with a snarl, enhancing the wrinkles of a rough life.

A pall fell over the restaurant... With a timid voice, Michelle the clerk said, "Next."

Young Adult

I am outside reading the paper, when a blue jay lands on the edge of our bird bath--for an instant--and then falls off to the ground. Clump. After dusting himself off, he flies back up to the edge, and clumsily gets a drink of water. A juvenal jay out on his own; his parents avoided discussing bird bath skills.

Bears in the Night

Last night, I ate watermelon on our deck. Unfortunately, this morning when I looked out on the deck, I saw I had left the melon rind, and some creature had gnawed on it--as pictured here. Looking closely, it was easy to see that this was the work of a bear--or mother and cubs. Large bite and tooth marks as well as muddy prints of dirt and watermelon juice all over the table and deck--they even checked out our patio door.

Good work, Geoff. They can smell a watermelon rind from a mile away, and now they will be returning to check for more food. I hope that it is not when we are eating; bears on deck ruin a nice meal.