Fall Sundays meant football...always have...always will! We'd watch the Bears on our B&W TV....Bill Wade throwing to Harlan Hill. We didn't care much about defense, just hold them so we'd get the ball back. After the game, we suit up in helmets and shoulder pads and head across the street to Mike Carey's back yard. We'd imagine we were Wade or Hill throwing and catching TD passes. Of course, someone almost always got hurt, but mostly games were called by darkness or dinner. Then home to dinner in front of Sunday night TV and Disney's Wonderful World of Color (or black and white...).
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Friday, August 26, 2011
Lake Geneva- Weekends
Lake Geneva was the " family" weekend destination. Each Staurday morning, we would pile into the station wagon and head out on out for an a hour plus trip to Lake Geneva. Bob Bob and Gram had a beautiful home right on the lake. Uncle Derald was up the road and Uncle Harold ( time tested the right spot- across the lake). Weekends in the early 60's were spent fishing, water skiing or just chilling.. it was a wonderful location and we had great time there. I most remember Bob Bob 's worm farm in an old wheel barrow.. looking back many years and many horror films, this was creepy.... hey, ..."where did Uncle Bob disappear to?" AROUND HERE? Well, the worms were great for fishing and always a source for our efforts to bring in the "big one". RJ, I think did just that when we sent a hook into the leg (?) maybe shoulder? of a friend he brought up for the day. I guess that tells you a lot about this family.... watch more about us on SYFY TV's Truth or Fiction Families..
The Trip to Paradise..... or ASU.. same difference
Oh, let's really get to the guts of this family.....the best of times and the worst of times were a trip back when DJ and KJ decided to join efforts and dual purpose.... DJ needed to interview with hospitals in the Southwest and KJ just needed a ride back to ASU. Well, as it turned out the routine interviews en route were pretty much routine... 15 minutes or less--- but that is by my estimate. .. anyhow, got DJ to PHX and ASU...As we walked in, there was a "balcony test", meaning something of value was being dropped off the second story balcony to great applause.... DJ's welcome to Sigma Chi- ASU... Well, we continued to enjoy the nightlife of Scottsdale- at the hosting of a number of fraternity brothers who were bar tenders= we came out pretty cheap. Next day- MEXICO I had lost my contact down the drain in the sink the night before- but- what the hell- road trip.. and found some of my puke- actually an undigested cherry - in the rocker panel of the car....( sorry to those reader with a sensitive reading stomach) but what the hell......that's all I remember.......................................................................................I think we had a good time.... at least DJ is till speaking to me............ today.....
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Lake Powell
The idea of a multi-family vacation is always a bit terrifying. It’s challenging enough managing a single family vacation, what with mood swings, conflicting itineraries, museum ‘speed-walkers’ vs. ‘museum ‘read everythings’, and ‘early risers’ vs. ‘late nighters’….to mention just a few. However, throwing good sense to the wind in favor of family togetherness, we planned a Jensen family vacation to Lake Powell in 1993 (I believe).
We reserved a large houseboat (sleeps 12+) plus a small speedboat for water skiing that we towed behind. The Florida Jensens could not attend, but that left Mike, Eileen, Captain Ron, Don, Donna, Colin, Emily, Rick, Lou, Kelly, Kris and Brandon. It was loaded with food, beer, water toys, and a 6-person tent that we set up on the top deck. A secret weapon smuggled on board was a water balloon ‘sling shot’ that could launch a water balloon 400 feet! Lou got a hand water pump from REI and we assembled about 500 ecologically-correct, biodegradable, water balloons. An hour into our journey, the launcher was brought out and water balloons filled….much to Mike’s horror. He was still new to the Jensen clan!
Our first targets were other houseboats. As our accuracy improved our reputation on the high seas deteriorated. One time, we came along side another house boat and launched our balloons only to have them fire back at us with a water cannon! Great fun!! Once, we saw a houseboat coming up behind us, so we slowed to let it get in range. “Oh boy! An easy target!” We let fly a couple water balloons that fell just short of the boat when Ron noticed that it was actually a Police Launch! We received a mild warning and they sailed off. Mike was not happy! We put the launcher away….but only temporarily.
On our third day, we found a great cove to anchor for the night and had just tied up when two other houseboats came in and anchored right across the bay from us. It was a wedding party, and they were noisy and loud late into the night. They ignored our requests to hold it down since we had youngsters trying to sleep. They finally passed out asleep on the upper decks of their boats around 2 am. They were clearly ignorant of our reputation as pirates, and had no idea of our secret weapon!
In the early morning hours, we made water balloons, started our engines and circled our boat around so that we came across their bow and launched balloon after balloon in high arching patterns that rained down upon the sleeping enemy. They were screaming and swearing and yelling for us to stop, but we kept on firing. “Paybacks are hell!” (Jensen Family motto....or is it "Bump Nana!"). Mike was hiding below deck.....
We reserved a large houseboat (sleeps 12+) plus a small speedboat for water skiing that we towed behind. The Florida Jensens could not attend, but that left Mike, Eileen, Captain Ron, Don, Donna, Colin, Emily, Rick, Lou, Kelly, Kris and Brandon. It was loaded with food, beer, water toys, and a 6-person tent that we set up on the top deck. A secret weapon smuggled on board was a water balloon ‘sling shot’ that could launch a water balloon 400 feet! Lou got a hand water pump from REI and we assembled about 500 ecologically-correct, biodegradable, water balloons. An hour into our journey, the launcher was brought out and water balloons filled….much to Mike’s horror. He was still new to the Jensen clan!
Our first targets were other houseboats. As our accuracy improved our reputation on the high seas deteriorated. One time, we came along side another house boat and launched our balloons only to have them fire back at us with a water cannon! Great fun!! Once, we saw a houseboat coming up behind us, so we slowed to let it get in range. “Oh boy! An easy target!” We let fly a couple water balloons that fell just short of the boat when Ron noticed that it was actually a Police Launch! We received a mild warning and they sailed off. Mike was not happy! We put the launcher away….but only temporarily.
On our third day, we found a great cove to anchor for the night and had just tied up when two other houseboats came in and anchored right across the bay from us. It was a wedding party, and they were noisy and loud late into the night. They ignored our requests to hold it down since we had youngsters trying to sleep. They finally passed out asleep on the upper decks of their boats around 2 am. They were clearly ignorant of our reputation as pirates, and had no idea of our secret weapon!
In the early morning hours, we made water balloons, started our engines and circled our boat around so that we came across their bow and launched balloon after balloon in high arching patterns that rained down upon the sleeping enemy. They were screaming and swearing and yelling for us to stop, but we kept on firing. “Paybacks are hell!” (Jensen Family motto....or is it "Bump Nana!"). Mike was hiding below deck.....
Saturday, July 30, 2011
A Gin Memory....
It’s a warm summer late afternoon, and I notice the bottles of tonic water sitting on the floor by the fridge. They’ve been there untouched since Emily came home last Thanksgiving, the thought of a cold G&T sounds pretty good right now – particularly with vacation starting tomorrow. Even more important, Donna picked up some fresh limes at Whole Foods. As I’m pouring the jigger of gin into the glass with ice cubes, I catch the distinctive smell of gin, and I’m transported back to an earlier time. Funny how those olfactory memories are so deeply imprinted…..
It’s the summer of 1962 and four of us are piled into John Prillaman’s Ford and heading to the Drive-in movie on old Route 66 just outside Springfield. Three of us hide in the trunk so we only pay admission for one car and one adult. John stole a fifth of gin from his dad’s stash (Gilbey’s), but we had no mixer. I went to the concession stand and brought an extra large orange drink. We couldn’t mix all the gin and all the orange drink, so we’d each take a swig of gin and “chase it” with a swig of orange drink. Yummm!! Well, an empty stomach, 5’7” and 115 lbs, and a short hitter anyway, I was the first one roaring drunk…but kept my turn in line. Finally, it started to rain and we decided to head home. We had been sitting on the hood of the car, and I decided that I could be better windshield wipers than the blades, so positioned myself on the roof using my arms as wipers as we exited the lot. Down MacArthur Boulevard, there I was on the roof and totally drunk. A future organ donor if there ever was one! And I was getting the whirlies. My friends dropped me off in the front yard of our house (2112 Westview drive) and luckily Merle and Eileen were already asleep. I stumbled down to my bedroom and laid down on my bed, but every time I closed my eyes, the room spun around and I got nauseated. Finally, I thought the best place to be would be in the bathroom close to the porcelain “god”. Soon, I was tossing my cookies and was none too quiet about it…waking Ron. He saw the fix I was in and promptly did the brotherly thing of waking dad and telling him I was sick (duh!). Dad saw my predicament and instantly diagnosed the condition. “What were you drinking tonight?” he asked. “Nuffing…” I said, “Just orange drink. Must not have agreed with me.” He threw me in the shower and turned on cold water, toweled me off, and put me to bed.
In the morning, dad woke me at 6 am and suggested I do some weed pulling in the yard before breakfast. I was INCREDIBLY hungover!! I also realized I was in deep shit, so I did it. At 7, he called me in for breakfast. There at my place was a plate of eggs and bacon and toast, and….. a large glass of orange juice. I was soooo thirsty, I guzzled the OJ straight down, only to discover a millisecond later that he had mixed my OJ 50:50 with GIN!!! OMG! I raced to the bathroom and started throwing up all over again…and again smelled and tasted gin! He was chuckling and clearly enjoying his devilish sadism. “Hope you learned a lesson,” he said. Boy, did I! It was at least 25 years before I could even think about drinking gin… in any form.
Well, that last gin and tonic was so good, I think I’ll make another….hope Donna gets home soon.
It’s the summer of 1962 and four of us are piled into John Prillaman’s Ford and heading to the Drive-in movie on old Route 66 just outside Springfield. Three of us hide in the trunk so we only pay admission for one car and one adult. John stole a fifth of gin from his dad’s stash (Gilbey’s), but we had no mixer. I went to the concession stand and brought an extra large orange drink. We couldn’t mix all the gin and all the orange drink, so we’d each take a swig of gin and “chase it” with a swig of orange drink. Yummm!! Well, an empty stomach, 5’7” and 115 lbs, and a short hitter anyway, I was the first one roaring drunk…but kept my turn in line. Finally, it started to rain and we decided to head home. We had been sitting on the hood of the car, and I decided that I could be better windshield wipers than the blades, so positioned myself on the roof using my arms as wipers as we exited the lot. Down MacArthur Boulevard, there I was on the roof and totally drunk. A future organ donor if there ever was one! And I was getting the whirlies. My friends dropped me off in the front yard of our house (2112 Westview drive) and luckily Merle and Eileen were already asleep. I stumbled down to my bedroom and laid down on my bed, but every time I closed my eyes, the room spun around and I got nauseated. Finally, I thought the best place to be would be in the bathroom close to the porcelain “god”. Soon, I was tossing my cookies and was none too quiet about it…waking Ron. He saw the fix I was in and promptly did the brotherly thing of waking dad and telling him I was sick (duh!). Dad saw my predicament and instantly diagnosed the condition. “What were you drinking tonight?” he asked. “Nuffing…” I said, “Just orange drink. Must not have agreed with me.” He threw me in the shower and turned on cold water, toweled me off, and put me to bed.
In the morning, dad woke me at 6 am and suggested I do some weed pulling in the yard before breakfast. I was INCREDIBLY hungover!! I also realized I was in deep shit, so I did it. At 7, he called me in for breakfast. There at my place was a plate of eggs and bacon and toast, and….. a large glass of orange juice. I was soooo thirsty, I guzzled the OJ straight down, only to discover a millisecond later that he had mixed my OJ 50:50 with GIN!!! OMG! I raced to the bathroom and started throwing up all over again…and again smelled and tasted gin! He was chuckling and clearly enjoying his devilish sadism. “Hope you learned a lesson,” he said. Boy, did I! It was at least 25 years before I could even think about drinking gin… in any form.
Well, that last gin and tonic was so good, I think I’ll make another….hope Donna gets home soon.
Friday, July 8, 2011
EUROPE!! LOOK OUT!! PART 3
You missed me didn't you. OK, well here we go. After the beers in our room in Luxembourg, Stan and I decided to canvass the town- you know-a sweep of opportunities. We were 16 and we were "HOT"- kinda... Well, we went into a restaurant in the city center- where we expected the action to be. Well, turns out, there is a multi national summit in Luxembourg. Sixteen year old boys were nothing more than street refuse. Well, we met a nice guy who, interestingly was an American. We had a great conversation with him. He was with Dean Rusk, Sec. of State of the U.S. and here for the "whatever they called them then"meetings. We pretended to be nonplussed by this and hoped him the best. Tomorrow, Belgium.... little did we know we would be sleeping on a park bench in Antwerp. How the high and mighty can fall.....
Monday, July 4, 2011
Homemade Ice Cream
Yesterday, Donna made ice cream in our Krups Automatic Ice Cream Maker. Not like the old style bucket with ice and rock salt variety, but easy, clean and noiseless (almost). The container must not have been cooled sufficiently because the ice cream came out too slushy, so we put it in a Tupperware and put it in the freezer. Today, that ice cream is like a brick....tasty, but still the consistency of concrete. It brought back memories of homemade ice cream from childhood....ah yes.....reliving the delight of rock hard vanilla ice cream!
Making vanilla ice cream (was there ever another flavor?) in the crank style freezer was a summertime high point growing up. We may have skimped a bit on the heavy cream, but not the sugar! We would all take a turn cranking the handle for what seemed like hours. Adding ice, adding rock salt, draining some water, adding ice, adding rock salt....you get the idea. All of us, mom included, were a bit over-anxious for the taste of that frozen delight, to actually wait until the cranking got real difficult. Just a bit harder was enough for us! We'd bring the metal container out of the icy brine and pop off the lid, and each would take a spoonful of pure vanilla heaven....a bit like grainy/gritty soft-serve. We would fight for who got to lick the beater. Then mom would put the container in the freezer to let it "finish". By the next day, the ice cream would be like a rock! We'd almost need a chisle and sledge to chip off a few flakes of the golden delight. It didn't deter us, however, and I think we assumed this was how it was supposed to be. The added energy expenditure, I think, kept us slim (?skinny) in spite of the calories consumed. (Well, maybe not EVERYONE). It probably lasted longer that way as well. We'd chip and dig until we would get a small bowl full, and then add the topping of choice - which in our house was Nesquik powder. We never had REAL chocolate syrup, although we would occasionally have butterscotch because it was dad's favorite. Sliced bananas and a little whipped cream from the spritzer can, and we had a banana split!
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