Fun with the Neighbor in Radioland

Well this is for Becky, mostly. We have all had those neighbors that were not all there.Here is one case study from the Sherwood Park era!

This all starts with my brother Tim. He had gotten a walkie talkie base station. It allowed you to receive and transmit to walkie talkies, CB radios and such. One day we were in our back room and hear a voice coming over Tim's base station. It was the neighborhood kid next door. We decided it was time for a little fun!
  
He was asking if anyone was out there. I had to answer. I replied "This is Blackfoot Air Force Base in North Dakota. WHO is this?"
He replied, "This is Ronnie."
I said "What are you doing on a government frequency and what is your location?"
Ronnie stammered a bit and said, "I'm home."
So I asked, "Where is your home?"
Ronnie replied, "Waterloo."

Tim and I are trying not to laugh too much while transmitting to him. We have him go outside where we can see him out the boys' bedroom window. I tell him, "Go outside."  He follows my order. I ask him, "What kind of radio are you broadcasting with?"
Ronnie states, "I just got it from the Clark Station."
I tell him, "You can't be on a government channel." So then I tell him that we are going to have to run some tests on the radio. Ronnie is all in for the tests!

Now, the audience is getting larger in the room. Dad asks us what are we doing. Tim starts to fill him in. I thought Dad would make us stop' but, I was wrong. He watched out the window with the rest of us. Dad always liked a good joke.

So, back to the conversation with Ronnie. I asked "What kind of batteries are you using?" We watch as he looks in the back of the radio. Glad he didn't take them out.
Ronnie comes back stating, "EverReady!"
I asked him if he had a paper bag at home. Those days, who didn't?  I told him, "Go get a paper bag, now."
Ronnie runs into the house to get a bag. He comes back out and says he has the bag.
I tell him, "Go back outside by the tree."
Come on we had to see him!

I asked "Do you have the bag"?
Ronnie assures me he has the bag. I tell him, "Put the radio in the bag and swing it above your head three times to see if that takes care of the problem."
I was surprised that he couldn't hear us laughing and not even over the radio.
We are all about crying we are all laughing so hard. Well, Ronnie is swinging the radio above his head and counts to three. He puts the bag down, pulls out the radio and says "Black Foot Air Force Base, this is Ronnie can you hear me?"
Silence from us. ?
onnie tries once more, "Black Foot Air Force Base, this is Ronnie can you her me?"
It was so hard not to make him do more stuff while we watched; but, Mom was giving me that "It's Enough" look - but she was laughing with the rest of us!

So, Becky, go ahead and have a little fun with your neighbor. After all, your an adopted Schell kid. Your allowed. If you need any suggestions just contact any of the Schell kids we can help!

Kids Say the Darndest Things - Especially David!

My oh my... it has been a while since I've posted!

I was taking care of Aaryn and David last week while Amy and Matt were traveling for work. Amy got back to town last Wednesday night and we were chatting before I left to come back to Waterloo. I don't quite remember what we were talking about; but, Amy said, "I think I might have to just vote for Donald Trump!"
David said, "Good! Because I don't want Mrs. Zaputil (his third grade teacher) to die!"
Amy said, "Why would Mrs. Zaputil die?"
David said, "Because the president said that teachers should be shot! And, Mrs. Zaputil is the best teacher that I've ever had in my whole life."

 

Evidently, he heard the story about the comment that the U of I president made!  http://www.kcrg.com/content/news/University-of-Iowa-President-Apologises-for-Saying-Unprepared-Teachers-Should-Be-Shot-362396421.html

 

I still have no idea where he heard the story.  I was busy with work that week and didn't have the TV on let alone the news!  It's nice to know that he cares so much about his teacher though!

Am I Seeing Things?

Steve is going to be the target of this blog post.  I think this makes the second time I've picked on him now; but, sometimes he makes it too easy!

He related a story the other night that I will get to in a bit that reminded me of the trip that we took to Oklahoma City about 7 or 8 years ago now!  I had to go to Oklahoma City to work the tradeshow booth for SMART Software at the Oklahoma Sheriff's Convention.  I was driving and invited Steve along to keep me company on the drive and do some sightseeing while we were there.  On the drive to Oklahoma City, we got to witness a meteor shower.  On the way home, we were probably somewhere between Kansas City and Des Moines and Steve said, "Did you see those fireworks?"  I said, "No."  A little while later, Steve said, "Did you see THOSE fireworks?"  I said, "No."  It took me a little while to figure out that the fireworks that Steve was seeing was the reflection of the lights on the signs located on the overpasses.  As I'd drive by, the darkened signs did kind of shimmer from the reflection!  LOL!

Which leads me to the recent story.  Steve prefaced his story with "I can't believe that I'm even going to tell you this!"  He rode with Jim & Cindy to Minocqua, WI last week.  He spent the night at Cindy & Jim's the night before they left.  He was sleeping back in the sun room and couldn't get comfortable so he got up to change places.  He SAYS he didn't have his glasses on; but, when he looked out the window toward the pond there was a really bright light and he could not figure out what it was.  So, he put his glasses on and realized then that it was the moon!  He never said what he was drinking before he went to bed!  LOL!

Thanks for being so entertaining, Steve!

Happy Trails to You ? Nope.

Growing up in Sherwood Park was great. It afforded us a place to play by the river and a large area of woods. It was a much different neighborhood than our friends' that grew up in Castle Hill. We, of course, had the spring floods that - at that time - were great. It gave us time off school and we played in the water. It was also an area where we had a range of animals from dogs to cows and, yes, even horses.

Our family lived at 109 Greenview Drive. We had a huge yard that supported many events such as basketball, baseball, football, and many other types of games. We were surrounded by wooded lots. But, across the road was a cement block building that was turned into a horse stable. The Thomson's moved several horses onto the property. Now, I was a big fan of the TV cowboy era. Roy Rogers, The Lone Ranger, Gunsmoke and all of the other shows. So my plan was to hang out in the corner of our yard that was closest to the horse barn. Maybe I would get an invitation to come for a visit.

It was a warm summer day and it was my task for the day (and it took a day) to cut the grass in our yard. It suddenly came to me that I could take all the grass clippings and make snack size bales of hay for the horses! I found an old metal lunch box in the basement. I crammed the grass into the box and ta-da mini-bales! I made about a dozen bales and waited for Merle to show up. It was an hour or so and there he was. So I took over a couple of bales and asked Merle if he could use some hay. He was so nice he said he would take them; but, they would have to dry out a bit before he could use them. He asked me if I would like to help him in the barn. I told him I would have to ask Mom if it was okay. So I ran back to the house and asked Mom if I could help Merle over at the horse barn. She said it was okay but I could not ride the horses. Damn... that was as bad as the old "you could shoot your eye out" ploy.

So what was my job to be at the horse barn? Yep, you guessed it... scoop the poop and help feed the horses. These chores carried on for several weeks. Merle said, "Tom, you have really been helpful here. How would you like to ride one of the horses today?" All right!  Hi Ho Silver! I'm hittin' the dusty trail! I told Merle I would have to ask Mom and I would be right back. I ran so fast that my Keds shoes nearly melted. Out of breath I told Mom that Merle asked if I would like to ride one of the horses. She said. "NO" and not to ask again. Oh no... how was I going to get to Dodge City? The Lone Ranger would be waiting on the outskirts of town for me and all I could ride to meet him was a STICK. Dejected, I went back and told Merle that I couldn't ride the horse because Mom said no. I kept on helping Merle and working Mom with several schemes like "Look at this Mom! Trigger just saved Roy Rogers!  You have to see this, quick!" Surely this would show her how noble a horse really is and I would be just fine riding one of them. Still the answer was NO.

It was a Saturday morning and Mom said that she and Dad were going to Cedar Rapids and that I was to hang around the house. This was one time I would be home alone. I don't remember where everyone else was that day but that was okay. Mom and Dad loaded up and went down the road. Perfect!  I went across the road and told Merle, "Hey, let's saddle up one of the horses for me to ride. My dad said it was alright!" There was a horse that reminded me of Champion, Gene Autry's horse. So I mounted up and headed out to the Plains - better known as the pasture. The pasture was about 100 yards long and ran along side our road. I was riding down the path and I looked to my right and there was Mom and Dad riding along side me. I got "the look" and Dad pointed sternly. I knew that meant to get off the horse and come home NOW. I thanked Merle and walked as slow as I could home hoping that time would stand still and cooler heads would prevail. Would the Lone Ranger's dad punish him for riding a horse? Would Roy Rogers' dad tan his hide for riding a horse? Well mine did! After that little experience I didn't even want to ride the merry-go-round. My rear end was as red as a western sunset. Saddle sore had a whole new meaning. So I wasn't singing Happy Trails.

A Lesson in Civics

This is another guest spot from Tom.  This story is about my lesson on Civics, painful as it was!  This took place toward the mid year of 6th grade at Castle Hill school. (Castle Hill, yes that's the school for me.  I'm proud and glad to give it my loyalty.  So dear Castle Hill, best school in Waterloo, I promise to be faithful ever more to you... OK, stop singing the Castle Hill song.)    

It was a Friday after school and I wanted to go over to a friend's house.  But first maybe I should go back to part of my day in school.  It was in Mrs. Woodward's class and I don't remember just how we got on to the subject of freedom of speech; but, Mrs. Woodward tried to explain how we all enjoyed the freedom of speech.  Wow I thought that was neat and it stuck in my memory.  You go to school to learn and be able to exercise your the newly discovered information. These moments make your parents proud... usually.

Now back to unfold my lesson on Civics.  I was changing out of my school clothes to go over to a friend's house to play out in the woods of Sherwood Park.  Mom asked where I thought I was going and I told her I was going over to Ray Moses' house.  Mom told me that I could not go because we (the family) were going to do something later.  Well that didn't sit well with me so I argued my point with Mom.  Still the answer was "no."  I begged and promised to be back before we had to leave.  Still, I heard "NO."  So, I just walked out and started to head out to Ray's house.  Seemed simple.  Mom was on the porch telling me I better not leave.  I continued to plead my case and Mom told me to shut up and get in the house.  OK, Mrs. Woodward's speech on freedom of speech rushed into my brain!  I was about to exercise my constitutional right!  WRONG!  Damn, I wish Mrs. Woodward would have told me about the right to remain silent.  Too late, Little Patriot.  So, I yelled back, "I don't have to shut up. I have the freedom of speech," and I just kept walking to Ray's house. I got there and Ray's mom told me Ray couldn't come out and I was to go right home.

It was a long, slow, reflective walk home.  I thought to myself,  "What is my fate going to be?"  Surely I was going to be safe.  I had only invoked my Constitutional right.  I still had the feeling that I was a dead man walking.  Mom didn't say anything to me when I came into the house.  This was like a new power!  What other rights did I have that I could use to my advantage?!

The thing I didn't think about was what Dad's reaction would be to the Constitutional debate.  Dad got home and we entered into a pretty one-sided debate.  It was then that I found out I didn't have the freedom of speech; nor, did I have the ability to sit for a while.  Once more a painful end.  Why didn't they have a time out back in those days?  So, to my nephews and nieces, if you need any Constitutional advice on your rights, feel free to drop me a line!
 

PEEP a Story of Cause and Effect

To start,  I am Tom, your guest host for this edition of My Funny Family. I am number two in the sibling order of the eight; or, for the Star Trek people 2 of 8. I am the formerly displaced Iowan that successfully escaped Florida. I retired and am embarking on a new career with the Ford Motor company. Well enough of my intro.

Growing up with eight brothers and sisters you had to have a sense of humor. We all have the Schell humor gene and I always felt I got maybe a little more of Dad's sense of humor. That was fun most of the time but it had some drawbacks that weren't fun at times. The following story is one of the many events of our life in a larger family unit. None of the names will be changed to protect anybody...  enjoy!


Let's start with our cast of players:

• Bill Schell, the Father and administrator of discipline
• Steve, the villain of this story. 
• Tim and Mike, minor roles and not so innocent bystanders. 
• And, Tom, the victim.

It was getting late in the evening and time for bed because it was a school night. Mom and Dad would start with "It's time for bed " or "Get back to bed it's late". That was our cue to go to the back bedrooms. All four boys in one room; and, at the time, Cindy in her room. The three youngest girls were not members of our cast as of yet.

Now having four boys in one room was a matter of necessity and at times a point of fun or conflict. We were in our room and talking and cutting up. We got a little loud and Dad made his first trip back in his role as the enforcer. We heard the floorboards creek and Dad poked his head in the room and he said "Shut up and go to bed it's late." So we shut up and went to bed......right. We were quiet for a while but the noise level built to a level that warranted a second, more stern warning. There went the floorboards again and this time the door was open all the way. Dad said, "Shut up and go to sleep and don't make me come back here again. I mean it."  OK we had better settle down and get to sleep... yeah right.  There we went again laughing and being boys. Nothing wrong with that... wrong again!  This time the floorboards had kind of a snap to them!  The door opened and this time Dad came in the room and we all got the "look" and the warning of impending pain.  He said, "If I come back here one more time, I'm bringing the belt.  Now get to bed!"  OK nuff said... RIGHT.  We shut up and all laid down for a couple of minutes.  There was just too much that had gone on during the day and we had to get our briefing to each other done.  Our volume buttons started to crank up and the floorboards sounded once more... damn!  There was Dad in the doorway with a stone face but thankfully no belt.  Dad was done with these trips and he said those fateful words, "If I come back here one more time, I am bringing the belt. I don't want to hear one more PEEP out of you.  Go to bed!"  Then it happened!  What possessed Steve to mutter that fateful word?  Why did he say it?  Why did he say the word "PEEP" for Dad to hear?  He wasn't that far out of the room.  He stopped and turned and there he was.  He had drawn his line in the sand and we  had crossed it.

Now I was the one with the quick comeback most of the time.  Mr. Independent.  Push the envelope a little.  But this time I was not the culprit.  Believe or not, I was innocent.  Really!

Dad came back and grabbed ME and delivered on his promise (no belt though).  It was as if time slowed down.  It was like one of those Sam Peckinpah films.  It seemed to be minutes instead of seconds.  I got a good old fashioned 1950's ass paddling.  I cried out, "It wasn't me.  It wasn't me!!!"  No chance... momentum had taken over.  Dad was on his mission to deal out the punishment.  I looked over and saw Tim and Mike in the corner of their bunk beds. Their mouths wide open and their eyes were as big as saucers.  You could feel their empathy for my plight.  Finally, it was over.  Dad's iron grip on my arm was released.  He said, "GO TO BED NOW!!"

Well we shut up and shuddered in fear.  Not much was said.  But then the hockey player decided to come out to exact a little justice.  With tears still in my eyes, I jumped out of my bed and started pushing Steve and asked, "Why?!" Whoops!   There was Dad again!  He grabbed me again and said, "I guess you didn't have enough the first time right?" Ass paddling Part 2 was in full effect and it was a  bit harder this time.  I could tell Tim and Mike were hoping "Please spare him, Lord."  They were wrapping themselves in their blankets thinking this may somehow discourage Dad from doling out more punishment if he had to unwrap them from their package.

If this had taken place today, it would have been a kinder and gentler form of punishment.  It would have been more of a negotiation.  First, Dad would have come back with, "I'm going to count to three. 1-2-3."  If a second trip was needed, it would have been the Timeout.  This is where I would be given a chance to go off to a designated place and reflect on my behavior.  Then comeback to talk about my behavior and apologize.  Then if I had crossed the line, I would have gotten the "This is going to hurt me more than you" line with a quick swat one time with the finger point and "Now behave."  I know I can hear you, Dad, "YEAH RIGHT. HA!"

So now it is in black and white for all to read.  The healing process can now begin.  This is easier than going on Dr.Phil.  So go out there and don't spare the rod and spoil the child.  There should be a cause and effect.  It has not diminished my love of family.  So, Steve, I forgive you, but I still owe you a PEEP.

Oh Lord!

Things just seem to happen to me.  I’ve had a shoulder problem going on for a little while now and have been going to physical therapy.  Things just don’t seem to be healing quickly enough for me so I decided to throw a chiropractor into the mix.  My brother had a similar problem and said that his chiropractor helped him.  Well… what the heck?  I thought that I’d give it a shot.  What could it hurt?  I checked with a couple of my family members and made an appointment with the same chiropractor that at least three people in my family go to.  They all said that he does a great job.

Mind you… I’ve never been to a chiropractor before and I cannot stand it when my kids pop their knuckles.  Maybe that could be because I sat in the room with my youngest daughter when she was five years old on a follow-up appointment after she had broken her arm.  They took the cast off and checked it.  The doctor told me that her bone was healing incorrectly and they were going to have to re-break her arm.  I figured that we’d make a follow-up appointment to come back for that procedure.  I was not prepared for him to walk back across the room, take her forearm with his bare hands and break it.  I will NEVER forget that sound.  Got to hand it to her… she was a trooper.  One little tear ran down her cheek. 

Last night I was a little worried about my trip to the chiropractor.  I’m not a fan of pain and I didn’t figure that there was any way that I would be able to relax enough for this to work.

I drove through a horrible snowstorm and slick streets to get to the chiropractor.  I walked into the office – which is a little older – but not too bad.  He escorted me back to the examination room.  We talked a bit.  I told him that I had my x-rays from the hospital from a few weeks ago if he wanted to see them.  He did.  He couldn’t get them to come up on his laptop.  He had to take them to his partner’s office to view them.  He came back and explained to me that there were four areas that needed some adjusting and then he explained to me how the process works.

He started off by performing a vibrating massage on my back and upper arms.  Then my back had to rest a bit before he was going to make the adjustments needed.  I heard a beep and then heard him say, “My daily scripture,” and then he proceeded to read the daily scripture.  I was lying face down on the table and was not expecting this.  I was glad that I was face down because I’m sure that I had a surprised look on my face.

When I got done at the chiropractor, I called my sister.  Our conversation went something like this:

Sister:    Hello?

Me:        Hey, I just got done at the chiropractor.

Sister:    How’d it go?

Me:        It went well; however, you failed to prepare me for my daily scripture reading… (chuckle)

Sister:    Are you kidding me?

Me:        Could I make this stuff up?

Sister:    (Laughing hysterically) He’s never done that with me!

I talked to my brother and informed him that I went to his chiropractor and also received my daily scripture.  He chuckled!  He said that he’s never read him scripture; but, he has read to his wife before.

I talked to my sister whose husband also goes to the same chiropractor.  She got a kick out of this happening to me also.  She asked her husband.  He had never received that service either.  However, his smart alec comment was, “I guess he knows who needs it!” 

On that note, I guess I’ll have to agree.  I will go back because my shoulder is already feeling a bit better tonight already.