| An Evening at Baskin Robbins... |
| Last Wednesday, I took Jonah to Baskin Robbins to meet some firefighters and to enjoy some ice cream. He did both. After debating over the many flavors, he opted for Mississippi Mud, liking it even better because his sisters weren't getting any...such is human nature! |
| After the ice cream, Firefighter Carr showed him the inside of the fire truck, also known as "the big rolling toolbox." The atmosphere was pleasant, festive, and very enjoyable. As we drove home, Jonah played with his fire helmet and wondered about career choices. "Mom, do you think most kids want to be firemen when they grow up?" |
| This was food for thought. "Well," I answered, "wander down the toy aisle of any department store, and you'll see a wide selection of firefighter playsets and plastic firemen hats and badges. The rides outside of grocery stores are fire trucks. |
| Raley's has a shopping cart with a fire truck attached for children to ride in. Schools take children on field trips to the fire station. On Halloween night, you're sure to see a few fireman costumes. Ask any group of kids, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" One or more will answer, "I want to be a firefighter!" So yes, I guess you could say that a firefighting career would interest most kids." He sat in silence, letting this absorb, then he asked, "Do you think any kid would want to be a city councilman?" Ahh! I like the way my kids think! "Have you ever seen a city council playset?" "No." "Would you want to play with one?" "Heck no!" 'nuff said. |
| Tonight, I read that the firefighters have been denied a request to have ten minutes of the council's agenda. They were told they could have three minutes. They won't put it on the agenda because they don't want to restate their position. How petty. Citizens all over Red Bluff are stating their position...read the signs! This is kind of a big deal to me. You see, about three years ago, one of those nine firefighters saved my grandfather's life. How thankful I am that they gave my grandfather more than three minutes of their time. |
| One of the things we laughed about... A family friend decided to make Thanksgiving dinner at my grandparents' home. "The dressing is my own recipe," he said repeatedly while cooking. "You're gonna like it. You've never tasted anything like it before." Because he took soooo long to make dinner, my grandfather's blood sugar took a dive, making him cranky. When it was finally time to eat, the last straw was when, as we were to hear about it for one solid decade later, "he pulled that turkey apart with his bare hands! He didn't use a knife!" my grandfather was hungry but didn't want to touch the meat after someone's hands had been on it. Disappointed, he settled for eating the dressing, which he thought tasted odd. "Do you like it?" The well-meaning friend was in his face. "Is it like anything you've ever tasted before?" My grandfather pushed his chair back from the table. "I want the recipe." "Then you like it? You like my dressing?" "I want the recipe because I want to make sure that I never make dressing that tastes anything remotely like it. For the first time all day, the friend was speechless. We tried to appear sympathetic while trying not to laugh. He was someone I related to very well, someone who was a lot like me. I got to enjoy him for three more months after his life was saved, during which time he took care of his business with God. I can't put a price on that. This issue is about people... the people who serve our community and the people they help. How do you describe the value of another person? It's a kind of intrinsic knowledge; it can't be taught... and it sure takes longer than three minutes to explain. It's not a financial issue, it's a philosophical one. It's about being fair. You either understand it or you don't. If you understand it, write a letter. www.redbluffismytown.com |
| My grandfather and I shared a quirky way of looking at life. Often, he would be sitting at the kitchen table and just start cracking up over some off the wall thought that crossed his mind. He could be easily irritated and he liked to rant. One time, while entering a restaurant, he noticed that the door handle was dirty. "Did you see that?" he asked. "I can't eat here." On and on it went. He finally did eat, but never returned. After that, whenever the restaurant was mentioned, we heard all over again about the dirty door knob. It was these kinds of gripes that have made me take note of the things around me. Every once in a while, I write something that I think he'd have particularly enjoyed and perhaps added to. |