20 Years Ago

Life in the Shoe in 2006

Just for fun, here’s what was happening twenty years ago as posted on my blog, Life in the Shoe.

1. Amy wrote a guest post.

   

   Emily, Amy, Jenny

   Family, Football, and Fathers
   Five years ago, my dad, who is a pastor, received a monetary gift from an anonymous church member. Knowing his children’s love for sports, especially Oregon Duck football, he decided to use the money to take any of his children who wanted to go to a game. Every year since then, we have selected one game every fall to attend. It has become a tradition, something that we look forward to each year as soon as the first hints of fall and football season come into view. Through the experience of interacting with each other, celebrating and sighing together as our team pulls ahead or falls behind, and making fun memories, we draw closer together as a family.
   The long-awaited day begins with the newspaper. Ben, age 12, has been up for hours and has almost memorized the sports section, so he reluctantly relinquishes it to me when I finally make my way downstairs. I scan through it, discussing it with Ben as I go. We talk about the Ducks’ chances, what the odds-makers are saying, and the opposing team’s outstanding linebacker.
   When we are done perusing our newspaper, we drift away to other things. Ben, sequestered in his room, listens to sports talk and checks up on other games on the radio. I eat breakfast and then curl up with a good book. The game doesn’t start until 4:00 p.m., so we have plenty of time to kill.
   Finally it’s 2:00, and we all head out the door. We are a smaller group than some other years. Matt has decided that he’s too old for this. Emily is sick and can’t make it. Jenny is too young to enjoy it, and Mom isn’t really into football, so they stay home, as usual. That makes four from our family: Me, Ben, Dad, and Steven. Although he’s almost 11, Steven has been part of our family for only ten months, and we are looking forward to introducing him to his first football game.
   After a 40-minute drive through traffic decorated with green-and-yellow flags and stickers, we reach our destination: the parking lot where fans can park free. The only drawback is that we have a fifteen-minute walk ahead of us, but it’s part of our tradition, so we don’t really care. We follow the crowds over a footbridge, through a park, down the sidewalk, and suddenly there is the stadium, looming huge and dark ahead of us.
   My first glimpse of the inside of the stadium always astounds me. We walk through a short tunnel, and suddenly we are part of the huge, bustling scene. Thousands and thousands of fans line the sides of the bowl-shaped stadium. People find their seats, settle in, or go off to find some food. On the field, the players go through their drills. It’s not raining, and the air is full of excitement: it’s going to be a great day.
   The game starts, and Ben and I are completely immersed in the action. When the team falls behind, we both sit tense, fists clenched in our laps, pleading with them to come back. When they score, we leap simultaneously to our feet, clapping, screaming at the top of our lungs, and jumping up and down. We pause to high-five each other, and then start screaming again.
   Steven claps and cheers too, though he seems a little lost. He is excited because we are excited, but he doesn’t quite understand what is going on. Nonetheless, he is making the most of this opportunity, and enjoying himself.
   In the midst of all the excitement, my dad sits motionless. He only stands when the national anthem is played, and never cheers or yells. To watch him, you would think that he didn’t even care about the game being played out in front of him.
   To a certain extent, that is the case.
   In the state of Oregon, where we’ve lived for the past ten years, there are two major college football teams: the U of O Ducks and the OSU Beavers. Nearly every sports fan in the state likes one or the other of the teams, but almost never both, and the rivalry between the two teams is so bitter that their annual game is aptly dubbed the "Civil War."
   My siblings and I became Duck fans almost by accident. Our geographical location, the preferences of our friends, and the biased reporting of the local newspaper sealed our fate.
   My dad, however, has taken the opposite position. Ever since he was young, he has supported the OSU Beavers.
   The Beavers’ stadium isn’t much farther away than the Ducks’, and the tickets are about the same price. It would have made sense for Dad to just take us all to a Beaver game, especially since he was using his own money. But he didn’t.
   After the game, Dad takes us all out to eat at McDonald’s. As a family of 8, even fast food gets expensive, and usually we are allowed to order only from the dollar menu, with large drinks and fries for everyone to share. This time, however, is a special treat, as Dad generously offers to buy us whatever we want.
   As I bite into my grilled chicken sandwich, I glance up at my dad. He is in the middle of a discussion about whether the Ducks will win their next game, and there is a little smile on his face. It is a happy, contented smile; a smile that says he knows the true meaning of family, self-sacrifice, and loving others more than himself.

2. It was easy to find a Quote of the Day to post:

   

   Steven, Ben, and Jenny

   
   Ben, the technical math guy, pulling a piece of plastic wrap off the roll: Mom, did you know when you get a new thing like this it has enough to stretch over ten football fields, end to end?
   Me: Wow!
   Ben: Not including the end zones.
   —+—+—+—

   Jenny: (chatter chatter chatter chatter)
   Me: Jenny, do you have to talk so much?
   Jenny: Well, I just wanna be a good conversationalist.
   Me: Good conversationalists listen more than they talk.
   Jenny: (wicked grin) Then you be a good conversationalist!
   —+—+—+—
   "Yay! I finally got the chest hairs!"
   --Steven, when I gave him a haircut on Friday night, and a bunch of little round black hairs were sprinkled across his chest. Why do all my children want to grow up so fast??!!
   —-+—-+—-
   "Mom! Steven's chewing with his mouth full!"
   --Emily
   —+—+—+—
   "I sort of enjoyed it because the guys all thought it was cool and the girls were all sympathetic."
   --Matt, on getting a black eye at Bible school
   —+—+—+—
   "Bless the hands that prepared the food so they can prepare more and more."
   --Steven, who puts his own twist on traditional Mennonite prayers
   —+—+—+—+
   "Your beard is getting hairy."
   --Steven, to Matt, who started growing a wiry red beard at Bible school

   

   Matt

3. Grocery shopping was a big job:
   
   Why I Yelled At My Son
   

   The other day I went grocery-shopping again. (Do I get anything else done, we wonder...) First I went to Grocery Outlet where they were out of the 99-cent Life cereal but they had these gallon cans of Ortega cheese sauce for $3.99. I figured rather than using Velveeta, Amy could use this along with hamburger, sausage, and salsa for her famous chip dip that she made for Matt’s birthday party. And it would be a cheap(er) way to feed the invading hordes when the kids have friends over.
   
   So I bought six cans of it.
   
   And a sack of cat food. And shortening and mayonnaise and grated cheese and much more. And then they had these boxes of Lipton tea bags, especially for iced tea, that I just love to have in the summertime but they normally cost 3-something for a box of 24, and these were only 99 cents.
   
   So I bought 12 boxes. And got it all in the trunk of the car.
   
   Then I indulged in a raspberry volcano from the nearby espresso stand.
   
   And then I went to WinCo where I filled two grocery carts with sugar (25 lb.) kitty litter (25 lb.) 4 gallons of milk, 10 dozen eggs, lots more stuff for us, and a bunch of food for the hamburger lunch Paul wants to make for the invading hordes (youth guys) on Saturday.
   
   I have this unfortunate malady of getting lightheaded at times, especially when I have too much caffeine in my system and not enough water, food, thyroid hormones, or blood pressure. So this hit me while I was unloading my stuff onto the counter, and as I hoisted out apples and oatmeal I was telling myself, “Focus, focus, don’t faint, don’t faint.” ...Ah, made it.
   
   Then I maneuvered two shopping carts out to the car--(push one, pull one, I am good at this, have done it in pouring rain and with small children)--and stuffed it all in. (Slow and steady, don’t faint, please don’t faint.)
   
   Finally I got in the car and found my water bottle and drank a bunch of warm water and lay my head on the steering wheel until the world was balanced again.
   
   I drive home and we unloaded all this and put it away.
   
   And Ben said, “Uh, Mom, there’s one thing I wish you would have bought and that’s ice cream.”
   
   And I said, “DO YOU REALIZE HOW MANY GROCERIES I BOUGHT TODAY TO KEEP YOU GUYS FUELED AND YOU HAVE THE NERVE TO TELL ME I SHOULD HAVE BOUGHT ONE MORE THING??!!
   AND FOR YOUR INFORMATION WE ALREADY HAVE TWO GALLONS OF ICE CREAM IN THE FREEZER!!”
   
   Paul being a loving gentle patient husband put his arm around me and told me he felt I was overreacting slightly.
   
   In retrospect, I was. Ben forgave me. But maybe the episode will have a bit of redeeming value someday when Ben’s wife comes home from a long day of grocery shopping.

4. Amy and her friend Carrie rescued Uncle James:
   
   Rescue in the Fescue*

   Across the creek and a field or two from our house is Harris Drive. Amy’s friend Carrie lives there with Loras and Ruth Neushwander, Paul’s great-aunt and uncle. Up the road from them is where Paul’s brother Steve lives with his family, and way back in behind their place is Paul’s Uncle James’s shop.
   
   James is a calm, slow-spoken 60-something farmer.
   
   Amy came home from the Emirates in March and decided she needs to get in shape, so almost every day she drives over to Loras and Ruth’s house to go on a walk with Carrie. They walk all the way to the end of Harris Drive and back.
   
   On Friday they were on their way home when suddenly they thought they heard someone calling for help. They stopped and listened, and sure enough, there came a faint, faraway, “HEELLPP!!”
   
   Carrie was the first to recognize that it came from James’s shop, and they took off running. As they arrived, this is what they saw:
   Picture a tractor tire lying on the concrete, like a big donut. Now picture a big piece of metal, like a tin can with the ends out, set into the center of the tire/donut. A pair of feet stuck out from under the tire, and from inside the “tin can” a hand was waving a hat.
   
   Amy still can’t quite piece together how this all happened, but it seems James had dual tires on the tractor and was trying to take the outside one off when it fell over on top of him and thoroughly pinned him down. So he was sitting in the middle with the tire pressing down on his legs. He had been there for an hour and a half.
   
   Carrie grabbed a bar of some sort and used it as a lever to lift the tire, and James wiggled his way out. He was unhurt, thankfully, but was losing the feeling in his legs. He expressed his thanks as effusively as Uncle James expresses anything. The girls left, happy that they had been at the right place at the right time and that they heard him even though the wind was blowing the “wrong” direction. James, I am told, felt better after a soak in a hot bath and did not need medical attention.
   
   Quotes of the Day:
   “I just wish I would have had a camera along.”
   --Amy
   “Well, I guess the first guy you rescued wasn’t your handsome prince.”
   --Emily
   
   *Ok, so it wasn’t exactly in the fescue, which is a type of grass, but I have thought for years that someday there ought to be a news headline like this from around here.