Posted by South Mountain Villager on January 22, 2012
Ask Grandpa
“A lady did something very nice for my Mom and me. She left before we could thank her. I have her plate number but no one will give me her name or number. Can you tell me how to contact her?” Rebecca.
When I hear things like that, It makes me happy. Now the lady made us all happy. She probably knows that and doesn’t need any more of a “Thanks”. You used to be able to locate people by requesting the information from the Motor Vehicle Department but because a few bad apples used the information for nefarious purposes’, the policy was changed. Just another example of a few reprobates messing it up for every one else. Anyway, I was listing to a country western song the other day, I don’t remember the name of it but it fit your dilemma like a preachers flask: A person was asked how much was owed for some service that had been provided and the giver answered “You don’t owe me a thing, but, if you want to pay me something, just pass the favor along when you have the chance.” The song went on to make the point, but you get it already.
You know Rebecca; some times all it takes to brighten someone’s day is a simple “Hi” or a cheerful smile. We can’t all leap tall buildings or change the oceans tides but we can settle for something as simple as a “Hello, you sure look nice today”. That’s a start. Tomorrow we’ll work on the tides. Hope you had a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.
Posted by South Mountain Villager on December 15, 2011
Ask Grandpa
Did kids steal or get into trouble when you were young? Brent.
Kids were kids. Same as now. Perhaps not quite as malicious but we were still kids. Part of being a kid is not taking the time to consider the consequences of our behavior. For example: When kids moved old man Crowder’s outhouse, we, I mean “they” never considered that he would fall in the hole. No one ever considered that eggs can destroy paint on vehicles or homes. I remember the time someone put a box of tide laundry soap in a waterfall fountain on Central Avenue. There were so many bubbles and suds that it stopped traffic and made the front page of the newspaper. It was pretty funny until we learned that it ruined the pumps and filters. Someone swiped the fat guy statue off the Bob’s Big Boy on Central. The owner was a good friend of my dads and as much as I pleaded innocent, I’m not sure I was completely believed. About twenty years later I built some antique ironwork for a mansion being used for a movie, the mansion was off Camelback and while installing some balcony railing, I could see into the neighbors’ property. The property belonged to an Arizona Senator and guess what was standing next to his gazebo? Of course, I invited my dad to come admire the ironwork and check out the fat statue in the Senators’ yard. Probably the rottenest thing we did was collect peoples hub caps. I don’t even know why we did it; we surely didn’t have any use for them. I do know the punishment didn’t fit the crime and in today’s world our parents would probably be in jail. Thinking about it, I do remember a crime caper my buddy and I concocted. We noticed that at the Encanto Boat Rental Dock people frequently lost coins that fell thru the cracks when they fumbled to pay for their boat rentals, having seen a movie about an underwater demolition team, we decided to become frogmen. We borrowed some wire cutters from Dads’ tool shed and headed for Encanto Park. We swam to the dock, cut the chicken wire and crawled under the deck. We collected two bags of coins, some of which appeared to have been there for years. Our crime spree ended with us both being caught. My accomplice surrendered on the spot but the officers had to chase me down on the golf course. All the silver coins were confiscated and we were allowed to keep the pennies. Kids were kids but we learned that crime doesn’t pay. Unless you count the pennies.
Posted by South Mountain Villager on September 21, 2011
Ask Grandpa
I read the newspaper at the Library and watch the news. I’m interested in elections and know more about them than my parents. They can vote and I can’t. Who made up that stupid rule? Damian age 15.
I suppose it was the same guy who says you can’t get a drivers license till you’re 16 and made us wait till we were 21 to legally get drunk and attempt some truly amazing acts of stupidity.
Anyway, Damian, it’s great that you study the issues now because when you’re of age to vote you’ll understand the mechanics of the process and will be an informed voter. If we had more of those, we’d be better off right now. A large percentage of citizens either don’t vote or vote because of some goony-bird notions. Many folks vote a straight ticket (one party) which is silly. There are candidates of both parties’ that qualify. You just need to learn which suits you the best. Another thing that you should consider: We only have one newspaper in town and although they feature some legitimate outside columnists, the majority of the local reporters are pretty one-sided. My Dad, who had been a foreign correspondent for U. P. I., used to say the local paper was “Pink” (leaning a little to the left). Mom disagreed; her comment was “they’re redder than a foxes butt at pokeberry time.” In any case you need to evaluate information from many sources. Most of our TV stations lean one way or the other too. I’m sad to hear your folks aren’t involved. I was pretty lucky in that respect. My Pop was pretty involved in politics. He knew who believed what, who kept their word, who was two-faced, what their prior voting and attendance had been and so forth. I always consulted with him before voting. Although we belonged to different parties, he would say “look I’m going with this person but since you don’t agree with this or that, you’d probably be more comfortable with the other guy. I remember a remark a woman made on television last election that sort of illustrates my view of many voters: She said “Oh my, this is a hard decision! I don’t know if I should vote for her since she’s a woman or him because he’s the same color as me.” They ran that clip on several stations because they probably thought it was funny. I think it was tragic.
Who cares which sex or color someone is? I want a person who can and will do the job. Sometime I think it would be wise to make people take a test to see if they were competent to vote. The problem with that is the people who write the test would design it so only folks that fit in a certain group could pass it. Actually, they did it in the south one time to discourage black folks from voting. It was unfair then and probably have the same issues now. Something you might try, Damian, is to discuss political topic with your folks. Maybe they’ll become interested and perhaps you can nudge them to vote according to the things you’ve researched and decided upon. So in effect, you will be voting. Someone said “the older I get the smarter my folks become.” Could happen.
Posted by South Mountain Villager on September 6, 2011
Ask Grandpa
A little girl down the street was put in a box and died. Why did someone do that and what’s going to happen to them? -Monica Z.
There’s a pond at my place that is where some tortoises get their water. I drained it the other day to add fresh water and noticed afterward that there had been a lot of tadpoles living in it. Realizing that I had needlessly hurt something, I felt pretty crummy. Later that day I read about the young lady you heard about being locked in a footlocker. I guess if one person values the well being of a tadpole and another cares less for a child, one of them is nuts. So, Monica, I’m probably not the one to ask “why”. It’s way beyond me. I don’t know what’s going to happen to the adults, at least here on earth anyway. I have a pretty good idea about later though. I’m hoping Sheriff Joe is building a box, big enough to stuff the whole bunch on them into. The reality is, Monica, there are some rotten people and some of them might live nearby you. You need to be aware of your surroundings and when you see something that looks weird, report it to your folks or teachers. I’m actually pretty disgusted with the neighbors in that deal. It’s hard to imagine that nobody ever suspected anything.
I know I keep beating a dead horse but it’s worth repeating: Get Involved! If you see something wrong, either fix it or report it! If you want to live in a good environment don’t leave it up to someone else to handle, step up to the plate yourself. If you see signs that someone is being abused or bullied report it. When you see trashy people dropping trash, pick it up. When you see or hear of thieves, drop houses, dopers or graffiti, report it. There are a whole lot more good folks than cruds around, Monica, if each one does just a little it will sure be a nice place to be. That probably sounds like a lot to expect coming from someone who’s still hoping some mother frog won’t know what he did to her tadpoles, but I hope you agree. One thing’s for sure—you’ll feel good knowing you did the right thing. - Grandpa
Posted by South Mountain Villager on August 7, 2011
Ask Grandpa
I’m a sophomore at South Mountain High who was brought to the USA as a three year old. So far, I’ve done well at school and never been in trouble. My track coach could say about the same but he was just deported for not being a white guy. Why should I stay in school and obey the laws? Why not join a gang and make some money now if I’m going to be deported anyway? -Anonymous
I read about that in the paper and I expect most people that saw it would agree that it was a pretty rotten deal. Apparently, your coach was a tax-paying electrician who volunteered his spare time to help kids excel in sports and life. My personal view is that if someone has shown that they contribute more to the community than they take from it and obey the laws, they should be welcome. Unfortunately, the laws don’t agree with that view, which is a good reason for folks to become informed and vote. Listen, you need an education whether you are here or somewhere else, don’t be silly. Hopefully, our elected officials will fix this calamity pretty soon and your education will help you get a good job right here where you are. Join a gang and make money? That’s a sure fire way to get deported, could get you shot or in the hoosegow, and sure as heck doesn’t qualify as being a productive citizen. I’ve known a lot of gang bangers and I can’t think of any who ended up with any money, in the end, anyway. Also, you might be interested to know that your coach does happen to be a “white guy”. He’s not an “Anglo” but Mexicans are actually classified as being white. My Dad corrected me when I was a kid when I said something about my buddy (a Mexican American) not being white. Check it out. If you find out Dad was wrong, deport me to Germany.
Posted by South Mountain Villager on June 19, 2011
Ask Grandpa
Did you have to learn Spanish when you were in grade school? I’m never going to Mexico so why learn Spanish? Sean-5th Grade.
No, foreign language was not offered when I was in grade school, but I wish it was. We had to have a foreign language in High School though. Fact is, I sort of felt like you then, but for a little different reason: My girlfriend was Hispanic and except for Spanish, she was a straight “A” student. Her folks didn’t speak a lick of English and as hard as she studied the best she could get was a “C”. The correct Spanish taught in school was different than what she learned at home and on the street. So, my 14 year olds` logic determined that it was a useless waste of time. Our teacher was a sweet old red headed lady name Miss Canell who always began a lesson by telling us about her cats. I never liked cats. One day she asked me why I hadn’t done my homework and I told her that my cat “Twinky” had just had kittens and one of them died at birth so I just couldn’t concentrate. As the semester progressed, so did Twinky’s imaginary litter. I named them all and each had a special personality. Miss Canell and I were as tight as ticks and I got “B”s in Spanish without having a clue what the smart kids were learning. My Dad learned about my scam at dinner one night and said that if I spent as much time studying my books as I did remembering all my “cat episodes” I’d have had an honest grade to begin with. I learned enough to get by while working on a ranch but I sure was sorry I wasted the opportunity at school when I had it.
How do you know that you’re not going to Mexico? How about Chile, or Spain or a dozen other places were Spanish would be helpful? What if you meet a pretty girl who’s folks can’t speak English and she invites you over for dinner? “Pasa de zapatas, por favor”. Yep, you’ll be their favorite. Study up Hombre.
- Grandpa
Please send your questions to George at gayoung@cox.net or use the form below.
Did the police harass kids when you were young like they do today? Larry S.
Well, I don’t think they really “harass” kids today-they don’t have time for it. But come to think of it, when I was a kid, I sometimes thought they did. We mostly had a sheriff (Cal Bois, I think) who was sometimes a pain-in-the-neck. There was a huge reservoir up on Squaw Peak that provided the drinking water for the rich folks at Wrigley’s Mansion (the Biltmore). For some odd reason, they objected to us skinny-dipping in it and Cal was constantly chasing us into the desert. He caught my friend Bradley once because he couldn’t run any further without his shoes. Roosevelt dead ended at the graveyard at 28th. Street. One time the irrigation got loose and eroded a grave which exposed the end of a casket. We pulled the Tom Sawyer (or Huckleberry Finn-I forgot) trick about painting a fence on our friend and got him to crawl in and fetch the skull. It took some doing since the casket was muddy and the end that was open was the end with the guys’ feet. Anyway, we got the skull and washed it off in the irrigation ditch. That part worked out OK and we had lots of fun putting it in people’s windows at night and making weird noises. I don’t know how old Cal found out but he caught us. I don’t expect you could say he harassed us, but he sure couldn’t take a joke. One time we were going to baseball practice and along the way as we passed by the neighborhood grouches’ house, we decided to warm up by doing some batting exercises on his garbage cans. Cal must have been sleeping but we got caught by a Phoenix Policeman named Barney Dunn. Barney did auto body work on the side and he spent the next week-end (we had to miss the ballgame) teaching us how to do body work on those two cans. When they were perfect we had to polish them and apologize to the grouch. I considered it “harassment” at the time but now I think of Barney every time I’m fixing a fender. I suppose if you can learn something by being harassed it ain’t so bad. Gramps.
Posted by South Mountain Villager on April 24, 2011
Ask Grandpa
My Dad thinks I should follow his example-He’s just a cook. We don’t live as good as a lot of my friends
whos’ Dads have better jobs. Am I wrong to want a different job when I graduate? James.
What do you mean “just” a cook? We’d all be a pretty sorry bunch if it weren’t for cooks. I suppose we could graze in a field like goats but I’d sure rather have cooks. My Dad would have asked you if you brought spaghetti with your whine, but that always chafed me so I’ll skip it and ask you this: Is your Dad happy being a cook? If he is, more power to him. Many cooks are very prosperous but maybe that’s not his motovation. If you don’t think you’d be happy cooking for a living then don’t do it. I’ve been told by some pretty wise people that you can make a good living doing just about anything (within reason) if you enjoy it and work hard at it. I never learned to cook so I found this fantastic girl that could and I married her. Now, if I get up before her and I’m hungry, I rattle a pot and she’s in the kitchen in a flash. She says I make a mess and ruin her cooking stuff. The kids used to enjoy my “Slum-Gullion” though—it’s plenty of chilies, potatoes and onions plus anything else I find in the ice box or in a can—It’s always different except for the mess. Someone said “an army fights on its belly”. The Marines survive on the four “C’s”. Cooks, C-rations, Corpsmen (“core men,” Mr. President) and Chaplains. Cooks and C-rations fill your belly, Corpsmen keep it from leaking out and Chaplains get you re-assigned to the best mess hall ever. These sayings express the importance of food. Food is no good without cooks. Your Dad’s profession is a key to life, I hope you learn to appreciate him. Unless of course, he makes Slum-Gullion.
Posted by South Mountain Villager on March 24, 2011
“I messed up last year and now I have a police record. Why stay in school since nobody will hire me anyway?” - Mario
Just about everyone “messed up” at one time or another. To use that as an excuse for giving up is a cop-out. Coincidentally, I met a fellow the other day that specializes in training & placing ex-felons. His name is Demetrius Ford (Arizona O.I.C. 602-254-5028) and I’ll bet he could be of tremendous assistance to you.
Aside from that, why would you want to miss out on an education? Unless you plan on spending the rest of you life hanging out with Hobos, you’ll need to be able to carry on an intelligent conversation—Duh, Yuh no whut I meen, Dude? When you meet new people their impression of you may determine if you are given a bank loan, rented an apartment or even allowed to date my granddaughter. If you appear to be dim-witted, folks of prominence will probably be nice to you but you won’t be accepted as an equal. I’m not suggesting that you aspire to Hoity-toity status, but I know that you will feel better about yourself if you understand what’s going on around you. English, Math, Science, History and Civics are basic to a well rounded education. Foreign language, Biology, Business and Music are icing on the cake. If you decide to take up a trade, all these things will still help. Mario, I didn’t take geometry in High School or College and kick myself in the butt for it. After about 35 years of figuring my jobs that hard way I took the course (at 65)), talk about a dim-wit. Do it now while you have a chance —and it is free. Good Luck, Dude.
Posted by South Mountain Villager on February 21, 2011
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After my bike was stolen, I invented a way to lock up a bike. Everyone says it won’t work and I can’t get any help making it. What should I do? William P.
A complete, accurate answer to your specific issue could be pretty lengthy and wouldn’t be of great interest or benefit to most readers. So if you send your phone number to Grandpa @ the Villager, I’ll tend to it personally. What I do think might be interesting though are all the golden possibilities you have encountered to learn some lessons about future experiences you will have: the old saying “trust your neighbors but brand you cattle” speaks for it’s self. You’ve already learned about petty thieves. They’ll still be here when you’re older. They might dress better, but they’ll still be around. Who says it won’t work”? Nobody knows if it’ll work `till you make one. Did you ever read about the history of the Panama Canal? You should. The canal “couldn’t be built” for a hundred reasons. Airplanes, computers, space ships, telephones, the Hoover Dam, gas engines, and on and on couldn’t be built. Maybe something in your chemistry or math class gave you an Idea that no one else ever applied to locks. That’s how great things begin. Maybe you’ll need to change it a little, who cares? Just do it. Maybe your idea will end up being a revolutionary dish washer or car battery. Who Cares? Invent something:
Other things you can expect: after you succeed, everyone will want to “help” you. Also, the folks that said it wouldn’t work will want credit for your accomplishment. When your enterprise grows, you will become acquainted with the real world of negative “it won’t work” folks. Employees, bankers, building permit people, lawyers etc. Learn to plow around the stumps and create something. While you’re at it, invent a bike that when a thief or negative person touches it, they evaporate into thin air. I’ll share your credit for that one. I’ve been asked why some courses are required in school. That’s why-you never know when you can use some goony-bird idea you picked up in that “goofy” class. You’re young and all this stuff is fun if you look at it the right way, keep it up and just do it. Maybe one day you’ll thank the jerk that swiped your bike for the things you learned from it. Of course, I wouldn’t want you to forget about inventing the machine to evaporate him.
Posted by South Mountain Villager on January 16, 2011
My Uncle bought me some fire crackers for Christmas but my mom took them away. She said I could go to jail for using them. Is that true? Michael B.
I don’t know about the jail part, Michael, unless your mom’s thinking you might be planning on purposely hurting someone or something with them. She’s probably just saying that it’s illegal to set them off in the city, which is correct. It’s about the dumbest thing I ever heard though. You can buy them in the city but you can’t use them. Voters approved the sale of them so as long as you enjoy having some—you can have a barn full—You just can’t use them. I’m still trying to find someone who voted for it. I have this old crippled up racehorse for sale they would be interested in. As kids, we always had fireworks at New Years and Fourth of July. I imagine it was legal then but I’m not sure. I know everyone had them though and I can’t remember too many serious accidents. I started to tell you that we set a haystack on fire with a bottle rocket but I remembered that it was actually a jug of kerosene. We were trying to burn an ant hill and when the jug accidently caught fire my buddy threw it in some grass which ended burning the haystack. I suspect that we haven’t passed any laws against kerosene because you don’t see too many haystacks anymore. But then again, maybe it’s because kids with firecrackers burned them all. Oh boy! This is too complicated for me; I’ll just leave it to the lawmakers and voters to cipher out.
An old geezer once said to me “son, it’s a lot easier to plow around a stump that to wrangle with it”. You might want to consider that advice and take your fireworks out of the city to explode them. I hope you find a dry spot to do it and wear safety glasses and such. Also, you might want to practice using your other hand for your chores, just in case you happen to be like my buddy with the kerosene.
Posted by South Mountain Villager on December 20, 2010
Ask Grandpa
“My cousins’ school in Scottsdale is nicer than mine in South Mountain. She says they’re all like that. Is it because they’re rich?” -Sara H.
Did the chicken or the egg come first? Obviously, the average income level is higher in Scottsdale but the question to answer is “WHY?” Do Scottsdale schools produce more graduates than we do? Do graduates earn more than drop-outs? Do students who have enough pride in themselves to work toward graduating have time to deface their school with graffiti and vandalism? Does that pride allow them to throw trash on the schoolyard or do they pick up trash left by others? Do these students earn respect by respecting their school property and fellow students? My Dad used to chastise me for answering a question with a question but since he’s not here, I can get away with it. If you think about these questions, you will have answered our own.
The bottom line is not about money, it’s about people. We can have the best school district in the state if we want to put forth the effort to have it. Most of the kids I’ve met in South Mountain are great kids, the school facilities are adequate and the teachers are dedicated. So the only things holding us back are the few students that are content to be second class. It’s up to you.
Posted by South Mountain Villager on November 5, 2010
Ask Grandpa
Did parents spend more time with their kids when you were young than they do now? Matt K.
Generally, I’d suppose so but there are so many different variables involved that it’s hard to be sure. My folks spent a lot of time with us as did most of my friends’ folks. We lived where the county hospital is now. It was a farm when I was a youngster. Pretty close to being in south Phoenix. Most parents were involved with their kids’ projects. Go carts, soap box racers, animals, little league games, school ball games, homework, building forts and tree houses, hunting and fishing and PTA. When I think of PTA (Parent Teachers
Association), I’m saddened to see that here in our
South Mountain neighborhood the meetings are attended by so few parents. I’ve heard many reasons (excuses) why this happens but for whatever reason, it’s sure not fair to the kids, or teachers, for that matter. Most of our folks and teachers knew each other on a first name basis and they worked as sort of a team to conspire against us. I had a counselor at
Phoenix Union who I knew hated me at the time. She used to pull me into her office by my ear. I’m sure one ear is bigger now because of her. Nothing I did was sacred; she’d actually come to my house and spill the beans in my presence so I wasn’t afforded the opportunity to alter the facts. I think about her all the time now, not because of my ear, but because of the positive impact she had on our young lives She’s one of the most dedicated, selfless, sweetest ladies I’ve ever known. They even recently named a high school in her honor (Betty Fairfax High School). I think the involvement of our parents and teachers back then must have had something to do with the futures of my close group of friends. Most are retired now but several are millionaires, a scientist, some business owners, a doctor, and an attorney and politician who should both still get their ears pulled, a banker and one worn-out blacksmith with a big ear.
Posted by South Mountain Villager on September 18, 2010
“My parents want me to study Computer Science but I‘m more interested in cars and racing. How can I change their minds?” Earl, 7th Grade.
I’m with you Earl, I’d much rather be working on an engine than messing around with a computer. In the 1950’s & 60’s I built and raced some pretty nice cars and boats and actually considered making career of it. If I tried to be competitive in the automotive trade today though, I’d be the biggest loser on the planet. Why? Because I’m computer illiterate. Today, cars are loaded with computers and if you don’t understand them, you’re lost in the dust of those who do.
We had a computer in college that was the size of your bedroom. There were little boards that you needed to stick wires in special spots to give the computer directions and some punch cards that did something else that I never figured out. The goofy professor told us that the contraption was so old that we’d never see one in use but we had to learn how to use it anyway. Lucky for me, I had 1923 Roadster with a chromed out corvette engine that the class brainiack like to be seen in so she got me thru the course. I thought I was pretty slick at the time but looking at it now, I don’t have the roadster anymore, the girl wasn’t that cute and I still can’t work a computer. That doesn’t have much to do with anything, Earl, but the experience sort of makes me think your folks may be on to something.
Your question reminded me of a fellow who worked for my brother on his ranch. He looked like Festus on Gunsmoke and didn’t smell too good. His kid looked like Alfred E. Newman in the Mad Magazine. They said he looked like a speckled taxi coming down a trail with the doors open. Anyway the kid was taking a computer class in Flagstaff and I recall the old man cursing about computers being “just a flash in the pan.” If you decide to learn computers I hope you remember me. I could sure use the help
Grandpa
Please send your Ask Grandpa questions to George at gayoung@cox.net.
Posted by South Mountain Villager on August 30, 2010
Ask Grandpa
“My cousin is smoking crack and threatened me if I tell my Aunt.”
- Gabe.
I wish you had given me more information, Gabe. For example: How old is your cousin and is his threat serious or just talk? Do you live in the same place as him? Without more information I’m only able to generalize but one thing is for sure, I’d stay as far away from him or any of his friends as I possibly could.
You have to weigh the consequences for telling your Aunt yourself and maybe consider letting a school or church official or School Resource Officer know about it. They could keep you out of the picture and handle it confidentially. Having said that, and assuming you’ve already had a brotherly talk with him, I’ll tell you what I’d do: I’d let his mom, my mom and dad, the police and anyone else around that could give him some help know about it. The guy is killing himself! If he was my friend, I’d want to get him some help. Let me tell you what’s next if he continues: His health issues are obvious. He will need to find a method of financing his habit which will lead to petty theft from business, homes, friends, and family. The theft will escalate to robbery and more serious crime. He will go to jail or prison. He will meet individuals in jail who teach him about more creative criminal activities and introduce him to different drugs. When he’s released from jail his only friends will be dopers and thieves so he’ll repeat his old habits and either be shot, over-dose or go back to prison. That’s the short version, Gabe, I’ve seen it happen many times and I’d hate to see it happen to someone I care about. Actually, I hate to see it happen to someone I don’t even care about. I’ll tell you why: People who contribute to any type of illegal activity, be it selling or using drugs, stealing, vandalizing property or whatever are costing your family and mine money and peace of mind. Taxes pay for jails, police and repairs to pubic property. Your parents pay the taxes. Imagine the extra things you could enjoy if your folks paid lower taxes. Imagine the things your school could have or the parks and swimming pools that the wasted tax money would provide. Stores include the cost of theft in the price you pay for your Nikes. So, you see Gabe, your cousin’s habit is really a problem for us all. I wish I was more help in solving our problem.
Please send your questions for Grandpa to George at gayoung@cox.net or to 514 West Sunland Avenue, Phoenix, AZ. 85041
