Pyro--The best mania of them all.

As I think back on the whimsical days of my youth, the thing that stands out the most is/was my my overpowering fascination with fire. Since hunched-over homos came out of their caves and became sapiens, Man (not Woman) has been unalterably drawn to the flame like so many moths (probably male ones). Holy crap! Making fire used to be harder than Chinese arithmetic! A guy had to wait for who knows how long for lightning to strike a tree or fellow homo that was close enough to him so he could get a good blaze going before the rain put it out. Maintaining that spark was no mean trick either. Even if he got it back to the cave, his mom/wife would just yell at him to "get that thing out of here! You'll ruin the drapes!" I would imagine there was an inordinate amount of charred skin and flaming faces before somebody (a guy) got brave/hungry enough to take a bite out of a lightning-struck brontosaurus and said, "Hey, anyone got some Bullseye barbecue sauce? This is tons better than raw." "Look Oogah- Boogah, how it's all brown and tasty instead of red and tough to chew."
Back in the 80s there was a movie with Rae-Dawn Chong (Tommy's daughter) and Ron Perlman called "Quest for Fire" that I thought was excellent and covered this subject quite well. That was during my I-don't-pay-attention-to-movie-ratings period so it may have been rated R or PG 35. I just remember that there were no real English-type words or subtitles but you could understand what the different tribes/people were saying. It's probably out there on VHS some place and would be worth watching. But, I digress, this is supposed to be about my pyromaniacal youth.
Much like others of my ilk, age, and gender I found I could make my very own conflagrations with only one match if absolutely necessary. Ah yes, matches. What a marvelous invention! Probably invented by the Chinese. Those little yellow suckers invented all sorts of cool stuff like pizza and gunpowder. Who'd a thunk eventually you would be able to rub a little red-tipped strip of cardboard against an almost slick black stripe of who-knows-what-the-heck-that-is, and POOF, flame at your very fingertips.
Probably a neophyte's first encounter with the uncontrollable attraction is the campfire. Be proud Mom & Dad (especially Dad) you started the little bugger on his way by introducing him to the great outdoors. LITTLE BOYS PLAY IN THE CAMPFIRE. It is a given. You could no more stop them than you could, with your puny arm, divert the course of the mighty Rillito if it ever runs again. My parents also contributed to my mania by living in Atomic City, Idaho. Much like most small (I mean waaay small) towns then and now, there were no laws against starting fires on your own property (or other people's for that matter). Why we even had the audacity to burn weeds and such without a permit, fire department, hose, or much sense. We, like most if not all the residents of good old A. C. had a 50-gallon barrel in the back yard that we would put our trash into, set it on fire, and let it burn down to ashes. Once the barrel was full of ashes, we (eventually me) would load it into the back of our pickup, haul it out to the town dump (more stories of that place to come later), empty it down the slope of rotting refuse, then bring the empty barrel back to start the process all over again. Sounds like loads of fun, eh kids?
One time when I was probably in high school, I put the trash in the burn barrel but, since it was rather windy (when was it NOT windy in G. O. A. C) I decided to help make the trash more burnable by adding some gasoline. I grabbed the jug o' gas that we used for the lawn mower and poured the entire contents over the trash in the barrel (it was REALLY windy ok?). At this point I realized I had forgotten to bring matches so I went back into the house to get some. In the meantime the gas I had poured on the trash was seeping oh so merrily to the bottom of the barrel. When I returned with the matches I struck one and BOOOOOM!! I invented the 50-gallon garbage howitzer. The barrel was EMPTY! Unfortunately the contents were now not-so-neatly distributed from hell to breakfast all over our back yard. Pa was NOT amused.
Well kiddos, it's late and I have rambled enough for one sitting. Tune in next time for tales of burning a cat, an outhouse, and our garage (almost twice)...Dad/Grandpa

Memorial/Decoration Day 2008

Okay folks, so here goes my first blog! After all the whining I did about getting it set up, I find it strangely difficult to get started. This has been quite a different Memorial Day for me. First of all it was nice to NOT have to get to the church by 0600 so Seth and Benjamin could get on their way to Aaronic priesthood/Scout camp. Let's hear it for the big snow storm in the White Mountains! I'm sure some of the boys are disappointed but, tough noogies, it's better than being popsicles. Buck up little camper, that $5 Wal-Mart sleeping bag would have just made it easier to stack your frozen little body it the back of one of the trailers. Camp Zion will be plenty cold and much more fun for the drivers. Meeting at 1000 was sooo much better for all concerned. So much for the scouts, good-bye and good luck. In a blogoid email I sent to most of you last week I talked about the possibility of visiting Your Mom/Grandma's parents' grave/crypt (okay, that's probably too many slashes in one short sentence, but so what?). In the email I spoke of how, when I was a kid, Memorial Day was always called Decoration Day and of how my sisters (who knows where Stanley was) and I would help our mom make flowers out of crepe paper then dip them in wax so they would last longer when we put them on the graves of our family members who had passed away (as opposed to those graves of the ones still alive). Last summer I got to take a trip to Idaho with Lorna and took pictures of those graves. Most of the Howe ancestry are buried in Arimo, ID. It's a very small town right on I-15 between the Utah border and Pocatello. That's where you'll find my Mom & Dad, grandparents, and most of my aunts and uncles (Wyoma, Rebecca, and Lloyd are still on this side of Heaven). My Potter grandparents, great-grandparents, aunts and uncles are buried in the Lava Hot Springs cemetery. Lava Hot Springs is about 20 miles East of I-15 between McCammon (just North of Arimo) and Soda Springs. There is a pioneer museum in Lava that has a whole section about the Potters that settled that area. Do stop by if you are ever in the area. Anyhoo, today in keeping with the Decoration Day genre Babs, Sarah, Reese, Dan and I all made the trek to the Evergreen Cemetery (on Grant road between Wilmot and Craycroft) to visit the final resting place of Grandma and Grandpa Parkin. We had difficulty finding where their ashes are but let it be known to one and all, I had the right building and the right wall! I had to check with the office though to find their exact location. We left some flowers (artificial so they will look nice for a long time) and had a rather enjoyable time (I thought so anyway). We came home and had a fantastic barbecue with Scot & Suzie and family along with Melissa, her s & Danny (Josh is on the mountain). Of course Sarah & Reese were there as was Pete, Dan and Bekah. The following were excused: Amy-in Mesa; Jer & Linda and family-in Sedona; Benjamin-at Camp Zion Lesley & kids- her folks; Aaron & Jen and s-in Apache Junction. It was great to have everyone here for Dan's graduation last Thursday. Thanks so much for coming. You have no idea how much pleasure I get just being around all of you and listening to all the conversations going on and once amid all the noise the grandkids make! It is a joy beyond measure! Now that you are asleep or beyond bored, I'll end this mess and get it posted. I love you all...DAD/Grandpa