Rodents

What type of things make you think of your childhood? Is it a particular smell or sound? 

My childhood included lots of sunburns, (LOTS of them), lots of salt water, lots of sea shells, lots of tar stains on the bottoms of my feet, (you'll understand if you're from SoCal), a total fascination with rain since we didn't get much, lots of stubbed toes since I was usually barefoot, and a warm jacket. Yes, you read that right. I always had a good warm jacket. It's a necessity when you're a rodent.

My particular type of rodent was of the rat variety. Specifically "Rink Rat". My cousin put me on ice skates for the first time at the age of 3 and the die was cast. I have always been most comfortable breathing that unique rubber mat funk that is a part of the ambiance of every rink that has ever been built. Someone told me once that it was because there was mold under the mats from all the water. I don't care. I love that smell. 

I don't remember ever NOT being a part of that Rink Rat society. I was there all the time and of course, started working there the moment I turned 16. It never seemed like work, and I did it all. Running the box office, the "door", the rental counter, the skate shop, guard on the ice floor, sound booth, and playing on the Zamboni. 

I never wore socks because I never rented skates, had calluses on the outsides of my pinkies from lacing skates, and my hands often smelled like oil from sharpening skates. I knew all the brands and understood what "hollow ground" and "Specials" meant, how to use a jig and an oil stone, and that REALLY good ice was made from hot water. I also understood the rink culture. Like what the first aid room was used for........... and it wasn't first aid! I didn't spend any time in there. Being able to skate for hours was too important. I've always had more than my share of energy and the rink was a good place to get that out of my system. And wonder of wonders, I had my own key to the place. I could and did go at any time of the night or day to get my fix. 

I started out on figure skates, but set those aside when I discovered the wonders of going fast. My first major purchase was a pair of kangaroo hide, offset speed skates. They weren't easy to walk in because of the length of the blade and the fact that the blades were both set as far to the left as they would go. They weren't built for comfort, but for speed, and I loved them. Membership in the speed skating club was the best and I was a faithful attender at practice sessions each week. Hockey skates soon followed, and I actually still have those. They were more comfortable and much better for playing broom ball. Maneuvering was way easier and they had rounded blades that didn't break the ball as easily. Figure skates were the worst for that!

I'm back in touch with many of the other rats from my youth courtesy of FaceBook. It was a great time of shared experiences and personal growth. And to this day, every time I walk into any building with an ice floor, and smell that rubber mat funk, I feel like I'm going home.

Thanks to my mom's pack rat ways, I still have beauties like this!

My second home. And yes, there actually WERE palm trees growing through the holes in the roof. We spent fun times sitting on the roof warming up after spending hours inside.

211 West Katella Ave.

We had a beautiful winter mural at each end of the rink. On this end, to the left was the sound room and the lockers. 

In the locker area was a clock which spelled out "Glacier Falls". Someone was brilliant!

To the left of the clock were wooden plaques that spelled out the rules. Mmmmmmmmmm, never really cared what they said.

My red nylon jacket. Once again, thanks to my mom's saving ways. 

Prescribe and teach these things.

Let no one look down on your youthfulness,

but rather in speech, conduct, love,

faith and purity,

show  yourself an example

of those who believe. 

1 Tim. 4:11-12

My Other Projects

Family Traditions

I grew up between two boys, and was actually born on my older brothers 4th birthday. My little brother came along 6 years after me, and mercifully stayed away from older brothers birthday. Interesting that I always referred to them that way; "older brother" and "little brother". Even now that my "little brother" has a full foot on me in height, he's still my "little brother". 

Because I was the rose between the thorns, I was never able to be prissy. There was no drama between us, no borrowing of clothes and not giving them back, no stealing each others boyfriends. Though my older brother, Ming, was known to steal my dolls at times. I never got them back without some kind of piercing, tattoo, or amputation but I don't remember ever being too upset by it. That's just what he did. 

Little brother, Bunns, preferred mind games. If it was quiet, he would start humming some banal television show theme song, knowing it would get stuck in my head. He still enjoys the mind games. He's a lot like our dad in that way. 

When we were growing up, we were just far enough apart that we didn't spend a lot of time playing together. We pretty much had different friends, and were into different activities. Our folks didn't really insist on any kind of family unity either. Dad worked a ton of hours, and mom was into her own things. They did it different for our generation. There wasn't the emphasis on "growing together" or "making memories". The goal was to survive and do your very best not to raise convicts. Rather than saying "I wish my child would........." it was usually "At least my child is not...........". Phrases like "robbing banks", "a drug addict" or "in jail" usually filled that last blank.

But even though we weren't terribly tight when we were younger, as we grew up, we began to appreciate and embrace each others differences. Ming was especially "different", if you know what I mean. Bunns had a very subtle sense of humor. Ming's was downright twisted. Bunns could do things with nothing more than a grin and then just walk away. Ming stuck around to watch your reaction and couldn't help but laugh uproariously at the result, which made whatever he had done even more annoying. 

After Ming began to drive, we spent a lot more time together. I wasn't stupid. I never turned down a free ride. Our cousin, Mitzi, introduced us to ice skating when we were very young and we spent HOURS each week at the rink. In fact, I don't even remember the first time I was on skates. Nor do I ever remember not owning my own pair of blades; usually several pairs at a time. It stood to reason that we would both go on to work at the ice rink so that at least we could get paid for being on skates. When I went to work at the rink, I had my own key to the ice arena where we spent so much time. That was pretty convenient, because Ming could drive the Zamboni and refinish the ice floor, so we would spend a good part of the night after closing time skating to our hearts content, and he would refinish the ice so that no one would ever know we were there. 

He was also often my ride to the beach. After skating much of the night, going to the beach and sleeping for several hours was pretty great. But it was on our way to a late night skating session that Ming introduced what would become a family tradition that keeps many members in fear during meal time to this very day. 

As was often the case, Ming was hungry on our way to the ice rink. He was always hungry. That's why groceries never made it from the bag to the cabinet; they were usually hijacked on the way across the kitchen with only the wrappers left to throw in the trash. So, we stopped at Carl's Jr. to grab a burger. "Eating healthy" was also something we never worried too much about. In fact, sitting across from Ming and eating was just something to be endured. He was just as annoying at other meals as he was at breakfast. I seized anything that would fill my belly and get me away from the table as quickly as possible. 

So we sat across from each other, eating big juicy burgers, while I did my best to ignore him, when he very matter of fact-ly, reached across the table, wrapped his hands around mine, and squeezed. "Oh, how nice" you might be thinking. Umm, no. The fact that I was actually HOLDING my burger in my hands, and had taken my attention away from him for a brief moment allowed him to turn my meal to mush. I looked down in horror as I watched my burger squish through my fingers and fall to the table. And there was nothing I could do about it. Nothing. Because he kept my hands locked in his own until he was finished. 

So, trying to maintain a little control of a situation that had been completely wrested from my control, I simply called him a jerk, picked up the burger detritus and ate it while he sat across the table and giggled. I secretly hoped he would choke on a fry. He laughed entirely too long.

It was "on". Food was no longer safe. And the trick was to stage a sneak attack and be out of reach before whoever was being attacked knew it was coming. It resulted in 3 children sitting hunched over their plates of food, glancing around suspiciously, always on guard against a hand, or finger landing in their meal. 

Bunns is still delightfully paranoid. He won't leave a plate unattended at the table for any reason. If he has to get up from the table, he takes the plate of food with him. And when any of us are within reach, he assumes the age old "hunch" position to protect what is his. The next generation are full fledged participants in this family tradition, and "gen-3" are nearly old enough to be introduced. Just another piece of anarchy that is a part of their legacy.

Now we command you, brethren,

in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ,

that you keep away from every brother who leads an unruly life

and not according to the tradition which you received from us.

For you yourselves know how you ought to follow our example,

because we did not act in an undisciplined manner among you.

2 Thess 3:6-7

Mitzi helping at our first birthday together

Christmas day 1959, just about the time Mitzi started us on skates. Bunns hadn't arrived yet. I don't know why there are 3 Christmas stockings.

Christmas day 1967. Me, Bunns and Ming