Marcie "Mom" Glanzer's Column

Saturday, June 4, 2005

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Father's Day

As you all know, Father's Day is just around the corner, so to celebrate this often overlooked member of the family I have decided to pay homage to my dad, Gene Bell.  He is nearing his 76th birthday and deserves a bit of horn tooting!  I have inherited a couple of things from my dad, among them large incisors, a love of reading, and a bit of wit.  (At least we think we're funny...)  

Chapter 1...My Childhood
Ah, my youth...growing up in a small town was great!  Everybody knew everybody else and kids could run amok without fear of kidnappers or perverts lurking around every corner.  However, along with that freedom came the temptation for mischief.  My dad wasn't one to fool around if I got into trouble.  There was no "Time Out" or a quiet discussion on what I had done wrong.  My dad's threat was always "I am going to kick your butt up between your shoulders" and he meant it!  I recall a time or two when that boot came sailing for my ass and it felt like my butt was between my shoulders!  One such time was after a campout in our backyard with some neighborhood girlfriends.  We thought it would be fun to run around town after dark and toilet paper everything.  It WAS fun, until the superintendent of the school called my dad and said he had recognized me in the bunch decorating his yard and the schoolgrounds the night before.  Since my dad was on the school board, he had to set an example...WHAM!!!!  There came the boot up the butt!  I don't recall toilet papering anything after that!  One of his sayings (I think he got it from his dad) was "Don't do anything tonite that you wouldn't want to see printed in the paper tomorrow!"  Those were wise words and I should have heeded them more often.  I know there were many more incidents of butt kicking, but I don't want anyone to think I was abused!

Chapter 2...Family Vacations
Dad worked at the Farmers Union gas station in Doland and every year he would get 2 weeks of vacation time.  We always went somewhere, because if he stayed home, people would inevitably call him to deliver gas or propane on his days off.  We went on some very lengthy road trips and always had some kind of car trouble.  One year we went out to the east coast.  Our car didn't have air conditioning, so my Grandpa let us borrow his car which was equipped with this luxury.  Let me start out by saying that we NEVER stayed in a motel.  We would drive forever to get to a relatives house to avoid paying for a hotel room.  With that in mind, imagine 5 people cooped up in a car for 12 hours heading for our first night's stay in Janesville, WI.  My dad has a brother that lived there and we got into town right at rush hour.  The gas gauge was perilously close to empty, but Dad was sick of us kids and only wanted to make it to Uncle Don's so we forged on.  We got stuck in traffic at a red light, and when the light turned green, the car killed on us.  We were out of gas!  I was so embarrassed...never mind that nobody in Janesville knew me...I still was mortified!  Then along comes a good samaritan...he offers to give my dad a lift to a gas station, brings back gas for the car and waits behind us to make sure it will run.  It does!!!!  Dad waves a thank you out the window and floors it.  Unfortunately, he is used to driving his '55 Oldsmobile where the shifting order is backwards.  Instead of shifting into drive, he hits reverse and slams backwards into this kind gentleman.  Now I am REALLY embarrassed...I hid on the floor of the car while my dad tried to apologize.  We did manage to make it to Washington DC and New York City on that trip, but Dad's fun was probably ruined on that first night.  On other trips I can remember the car overheating quite often and I can still picture Dad trudging down the interstate on foot to get help.  Thank God for cell phones!

Chapter 3...Dangerous TimesThings were definitely different when I was growing up as compared to children nowdays.  My mother always worked which left us 3 kids to fend for ourselves alot during the summer.  I used to go to the Farmers Union to ride around with Dad in the gas truck or whatever he was doing.  Nobody ever raised an eyebrow at me in the gas truck or the spray coupe.  If you don't know what a spray coupe is, it is a narrow machine that has a cockpit type seat for the driver and booms that stick out on the sides for the spray to come out of.  In the summer, Dad sprayed chemicals on the crops with this and I used to sit on the front of the spray coupe as it bounced dangerously along the rough fields.  Never did we think about the risk of me falling off and being run over, not to mention the harmful cancer causing chemicals I was being doused in.  It was fun!!!  Another fun activity was during the winter when we had alot of snow, Dad would go to the FU and get their Bobcat to remove snow from the driveway.  It looked like it would be fun to ride in the bucket while he dumped loads of snow onto huge piles, so my friend Darlene and I climbed on in!  Up we went along with the heaps of snow and Dad would dump the bucket of snow and us on a pile, then we would climb back in and go down for the next load.  This was OK until I felt like I was going to fall while descending one time and put my arm behind the bucket to hang on.  Dad lowered the bucket and surprise, surprise, my arm was caught in it and was being squeezed!  By the time Dad realized what had happened I was nearly passed out. Boy, did Mom chew him out!!! A trip to the hospital deemed my arm OK, but no more riding in the Bobcat!

Chapter 4...Humorous Times
My dad is a funny guy most of the time, but often he was funny without even trying.  When I was young I took piano lessons and every year we had a contest in the spring.  I hadn't stayed to get my ribbon, so my piano teacher stopped by the house to deliver it in person.  She had come to the front door, which nobody ever used, so my dad was unprepared for a visitor.  He had come home from work and took a bath, then put on his official "after work" oufit which was simply a pair of white briefs.  He was sitting in his recliner minding his own business, when my mom shouted out that Ruby was coming to the front door.  In his haste to hide from her he squatted on the floor beside our piano.  Little did he know, that a full length mirror that was mounted on a closet door perfectly reflected his image to Ruby as she stood in the doorway visiting!   Another humorous moment was a few years ago when my mom and I attended the annual Mother Daughter banquet held at the Methodist church.  The unique thing about this banquet is that the women don't have to do any of the work!  The men of the community are called upon to wait tables.  Dad was one of these guys and was in charge of pouring either coffee or red Kool-aid.  Nothing out of the ordinary happened that evening, but the next day the phone rang at my parent's house.  When my mom answered the phone it was an elderly neighbor lady calling to say not to worry, that she had gotten the stain out.  My mother, perplexed, asked "What stain?"  "Oh," the lady replied, "Didn't Gene tell you?  Last night he was pouring coffee for someone and wasn't paying attention to the Kool-aid pitcher and had it tipped and it spilled all down the back of my dress!"  He had hoped we wouldn't find out about it, but secrets are hard to keep in a small town.  For some reason, he's never been asked to help out again!  
 
If you would like to email Gene and give him your thoughts on some of these memories, I'm sure he'd be glad to hear from you.  Email him at gbell@nvc.net.  Until next time, don't do anything tonite that you wouldn't want to see printed in the paper tomorrow!



 

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