Posted by: nativeiowan | December 25, 2014

Mike”s Bikes… ol fart reminis

I can hardly see out of my glasses. So dirty n streaked n fogged. I reflect that it has been a long day. December 25th is usually a bizzy, frenetic annual event. Especially if you have lil kids around. And I have a bunch of ’em here…

We have: Angelopolous, Mendozza, Angelina, Anna, Jimmy, Mack, Dylan, Max and the ridgeback-pack of Bean, Iowa, Lauru, Rhett n Scarlett.

Inlaws n Outlaws: Connie, Annie, Terry, Paul, Tony, Betsy, Joanne, Val, Bridget n Oz make as much noise as the kids.

Grace is in there too, holding her own with the decibel production.

We have been at it now for 5 hours or more. Mendozza and Dylan were here last night so got the first raid on the Santa-gear this morn. They were in the pool real early. Angelo, Angelina, Anna n Max showed up about10, Jimmy n Mack about noon.

I am sitting on the upper deck, listening to the cacophony of confusion which is the pool… What I hear:

Paul – I’ll throw you in

Grace –  Paul! No! Baby blo him, ia

Betsy – Careful, Paul

Bridget – Jimmy hem sick

Besty – Stop it, Paul please

Paul – You know you want to

Mendozza – Yeee hawww

Angelo – I’m too big, ahhhhhh

Besty – Paul Paul!, stop!

Gracie – PAULLLL!!!

Jimmy – Me more

Paul – One more time

Angelina – haw, haw, haw, haw

Paul – One more time, let me see if I can throw you…. oh, shit, any blood..

Grace – where is Max… oh no… oh, good, he’s ok…


A classic Hemmer-tribe dooo is taking place. Darwinism at it’s best. The weak do not survive…

What is takeing place is this: Paul is taking the more intrepid of the granpups, twirling them a couple of times and launching them into the pool. Now Paul is a monster-of-a-man, big n strong and his twirl is impressive and his launch is frightening. All the women are squawking n making noise and thinking it is dangerous. The kids are clamouring for more and us blokes are taking pictures.  IMG_1792

So far no major injuries. Poor Anna has had a couple of slip n slide encounters with the timber decking. A body-slam while aiming for the pool n falling short, a whole body length, was tearful, As was a slip that bounced chin off of timber. But no breakages or blood.

Things have calmed down a bit. The women had enough and took the food inside. It’s no fun to rile everything up without an audience, so it’s almost sedate right now. Almost safe.

I started this as a reminiscence of Christmases past…

I used to have a great memory. Recent years have found me looking more forward than backward so my record of the past is not as well used so I oft time struggle to find the right memory when required.

I do remember some very young christmas times when the entire spectacle of Cmas was overbearing. Very powerful. I was always a bit confused by it all (and such I remain) because I was sure what was what. Everything so bright n shiny and pretty. I have young memories when I discovered that all that glitters is not food.

Also I recall the elation and disappointment of presenting.

I recall a very young aged present that was soooo coool… it was a kids size military mess kit. The type that has a plate, cup, handle, pan, opener, et al in a systemized, fit on the belt unit. I was so pleased and thankful for that way cool tool.

I recall wanting one thing and not getting it and being cheesed off with Jolly ol Nick for ages. I think I wanted a “Thing Maker” and got under wear.

Reminds me when my niece, Robin, was about 6/7. She got Wonder Woman underwear plus some school things and her younger siblings got some cool, cool toys. Robin was unhappy and wanted to play but her sister declared “what can I play with of yours?”, and the answer was “wonder woman underwear”… families are soo cruel and memories are harsh. I recall that lil Robin went onto the cold porch n stared forlornly into the living room window. Which provoked more mirth. Poor, Robin. I fear she was traumatized, just like I, over “underwear”.

Growing up is never easy and in our clan it may even be difficult. There is not much that’s too warm n fuzzy in our family. not unless it’s Uncle Paul…

The kids now have “Uncle Paul” in the pool:

Angelo – Uncle Paul, look at this

Mack – Me next

Angelina – Please, Uncle Paul

Paul – who’s next

Gracie – (from the upstairs window) Paul, be easy. EASYYY!!!!

I remember singing Cmas carols and handing out popcorn on Taro Island with KenH. I remember Father Meese leaving me paralytic drunk after a Cmas lunch in Susuka. HE HAD ARRIVED WITH A BOTTLE OF SCOTCH – AND ICE… we had lunch, drank the bottle of booze n he sailed off to his next parish mass. I was sick for days.

I remember traveling back in 1983 for Cmas. Iowa was Iowa, meaning dern cold, and the day before Cmas I took off with DonV for a night of fun. Then the blizzard hit. We got snowed in at Ames for a couple of days. Don was (and still remains) a Grinch, so we drank booze n watched the Playboy channel for a day or two until the roads were clear. Missed Cmas with the family all together.

Cmas needs lil kids to work. That childish magic (and, yes, greed) makes it all something special.

So, what do I hear…

Paul —-

OK, outta the pool…

what happened, no blood?

Mothers, come get your kids.

Time to chill out…

I think Paul is tired. And my inspiration gone. Its nap time, I think. 223pm. So probably best to follow the lead n do the ho, ho, ho thing…

more later


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