56 Dodge Custom Royal Lancer

In the  1950's car makers changed model ever year . This was very exciting for 'car nuts' like myself . We looked forward to the new models with great anticipation. It was in fact a waste of money to spend so much capital changing the look each year. That money could have been better spent developing better cars,engines, and safely features.

That aside it was still exciting to see the new models. Chevrolet hit the bulls eye with the '55' model. They missed a little in '56' but hit again in '57'.  These were best sellers when they were new and have become the desirable collector cars today. They are more valuable because they were only made for one year.

For Dodge it was the '56' Dodge Custom Royal Lancer. This car looked good from all angles and was a breakthrough for Dodge.. Dad bought one. Ours was a four door with three three tone paint--[black,white, and yellow].

I was allowed to drive this car on a limited basis even before I had a driver's license. It was the car I drove when I started dating.

In those times upholstery was beautiful but it did not last like today. By 50,000 miles most cars had seams coming apart and holes at least where the driver sat. To the rescue came Fingerhut Manufacturing. They made a clear plastic seat cover custom fitted for each car model. We put these plastic seat covers on this Dodge and they lasted for over 100.000 miles till it was traded. These seat covers were hot and sticky in the summer [no AC] and cold in the winter. The upholstery though, looked just like new for the duration. 

This Dodge had a push button transmission gear selector located to the left of the steering column. Several car makers experimented with the push button gear selector but it never caught on. Americans seem to need a stick of some kind to make driving feel right.

Until this time we had  driven only Chevy's Fords and Plymouth's.  Dodge was a step up. It wasn't a Buick like Uncle Gene drove , nor was it a Packard like Uncle Lester drove. It was however a step up in car hierarchy  for those who were counting.

It did looked good from all angles......................................................

 

When Old Painters Don't Have a Truck

For that past five years the construction trade in Arizona has been dead. There is a pulse coming back and even retired painters who don't want to paint are getting calls. I had to put my HHR into service as my paint truck. Did I mention I was retired?  EB

 

 

 

My Testimony January 6, 2013 Sacrament Meeting Centennial Ward‏

My name is Errol Bagley. This past month it has been our privilege to clean our church building each Saturday. Several weeks ago as part of the cleaning crew I noticed that the majority of the cleaners that day were the four former bishops of this ward, Bishops Stapley, Severtson, Moore and myself. As I observed this group of happy cleaners I thought to myself  'This church must be true'. Were in the world would you find a group  who that had sat at the head of the congregation with some honor and were now happily washing windows and cleaning bathrooms in the same church. About the same week my wife was asked to come in for an appointment with young Brother Curt Severtson to receive a call to work in the primary. It occurred to me that in times past Elaine may have wiped 'this' boys nose in a primary class and now she was sitting before him to take counsel. It is interesting to watch the ebb and flow of the of the assignments in the church. If someday we are privileged to have audience with our Heavenly Father  I don't think He is going to ask us what positions we held in the church. I think He is more likely to ask us if we knew His Son.

Today there will be those who stand at this podium and use words such as: I believe.........I know..........I know with every fiber of my being.............and some young ones will just stand on the box and say that they love their Mom and Dad. It is not for us to  judge the depth of each others testimony. The standard for me of all the testimonies that I have ever heard was given by Bruce R. McConkie in 1985. It was the last time he spoke in conference. Part of that testimony included these words: And in a coming day I will feel the wounds in His hands and feet and I will wet His feet with my tears but I will not know better then than I know now that He is my Savior and Redeemer. I would hope someday to be able to bare such a testimony. In the mean time I will just be content to say that I believe from everything that I know about this church and gospel and perhaps more importantly from everything that I feel in my heart that this is Christ's true church. In His name Amen. 

FW: Haircut

Sent from my iPhone

 

---

This morning Jarom was out leaning over the trampoline giving himself a haircut. This cut does not require great skill as it is just a buzz job. If you do it out on the lawn one does not even need to sweep up afterwards. After church I asked him to give me one. Having been folically challenged for some years I knew he could not do much damage. I was a little disappointed in that I thought I would be as handsome as he was after the cut. As it turned out I was still just a bald man with no hair around his ears. Dad
 

Subject: Haircut
From: andrewtbagley@gmail.com
Date: Sun, 2 Sep 2012 14:25:29 -0700
To: eebagley@gmail.com

Sent from my iPhone

Sent from my iPhone

FW: Another Day in Paridise

 

John called me the other day complaining that it was in the 90's in Idaho. I listened to him politely and tried to sympathize .
 
The last two days it has been 116 degrees in my town but it cools down to 96 by five in the morning when the sun comes up again.
 
The AC compressor in my bus is as big as a basketball and takes as much horsepower as two VW bug engines.
 
This AC on full blast brings the temperature in the bus down into the mid 90's. One third of the drivers don't have AC on their buses.
 
Not sure what the point of all this is but there must be one somewhere. When I get my brain cooled down I'm sure I'll think of it.

FW: The Redemption of My Chrysler 300

---

Subject: The Redemption of My Chrysler 300
Date: Sun, 22 Apr 2012 21:06:39 -0700

Saturday morning a young lady called me and wanted to see my 02 Chrysler 300 that I was selling. By the time I noticed her in the driveway she was standing next to the car transfixed with joy on here face. As I approached her she said " This is the most beautiful car ever. My sister is going to be so jealous". Clearly she needed some work on here negotiation skills. We hadn't even stared talking price yet and she was indicating she could not live without this car. She was 20 years old, white ,LDS. , waiting for a missionary and and worked at Banner Hospital. Now I had always thought my Chrysler was a beautiful car but my daughters thought it looked like a cockroach. I was taking some perverse satisfaction in the fact that a semi attractive young lady was seeing the same beauty  in these 17 inch chrome rims that I had seen. I rewarded her with $200 off of the asking price on the spot. If she had kept talking I probably would have given her a new set of tires. How often do you find this much wisdom and appreciation of beauty in those so young.

 

This car was a full sized American made luxury car. This segment of cars are on life support today. They represent less than 5% of the cars sold in the U.S.  and they are increasingly bought by the aging affluent. For my generation it was, in a way a coming of age to be able to drive such a car. You deserved and could afford something a little nicer than your first 20 years of marriage. I have had my share of Buicks, Pontiacs, and Chryslers and enjoyed each one of them. It was part of the order of life. We knew our age and we drove inappropriately.  Now, in this upside down world I had bought a sub-compact car and a twenty year old nurse was driving away in my Chrysler with a smile on her face. What can possibly be next? My button down shirt collar?  EB

FW: Wyoming License P;ate

Subject: FW: Wyoming License plate
Date: Sun, 8 Apr 2012 09:03:49 -0700

---

Subject: FW: Wyoming License plate
Date: Sun, 8 Apr 2012 09:02:48 -0700

---

From: eebagley@hotmail.com
To: patsyqbagley@hotmail.com; gracechristy@sbcglobal.net; oleyeller@oleyeller.com; lbwdesigns@silverstar.com; scarlet@mckellars.net; tractorman@cableone.net
Subject: Wyoming License plate
Date: Sun, 8 Apr 2012 08:59:46 -0700

Over the years I have not been bashful about telling my Arizona friends that I grew up on a Wyoming cattle ranch. I think it had a mystic ring to these cactus cowboys in the Arizona Southwest. I left out the part that we were mostly farmer/cowboys and that none of us actually wore cowboy boots. When I was a regular speaker in our stake I liberally laced my talks with homey storys about cowboys and clotheslines. Well I am proud to say that after some 40 years I again sport a Wyoming plate on my car. We bought the car in Rock Springs [The sales tax in half that of Arizona]. We registered it in Fremont county [where I still have a illegitimate address]. What do you think about that Mom? [plate last registered in 81] Thanks for all that you did for me 68 years ago today. I still don't have any cowboy boots but I do have a bucking bronco on my car. EB

Brothers

---

Subject: RE: Brothers
Date: Tue, 17 Apr 2012 06:57:07 -0600

I am not as gifted with words as Errol, but let me try to express my feelings on Brothers

 

During my adult life I have had the opportunity to work closely with all of my brothers.

When I got off my mission I spent the next4 summers working with Jerry. We had a great time.

 Working together and hours spent in the Maverik at the Y in Jackson just talking.

 It was at this time Neil Armstrong landed on the moon.

 Christy and I were laughing and having fun in the Red Barn and

Jerry came running in and told us to be quiet and watch them land on the moon,

because it was like seeing Columbus set foot on the Americas.

 (2 weeks ago I met Neil Armstrong) and Gene Cernin.  The 1^st and last men on the moon, but I digress.

 

In the late 80's Terry left the banking industry to come to Idaho to work with me in construction.

  I worried about this for a while, but soon found out that he was strong where I was weak and I was strong were he was weak.

 That relationship has lasted for over 20 years,

 he has been my sounding board, my adult supervision, and my friend.

For all of this time.  We talk on a daily basis.

 

When I found out that I was going to be the director at Sixth Crossing, I asked my mission Pres.

If I could recruit. Some of the talents that I needed.  He said yes, and then I adked if I could have Errol and Elayne.

  He said that they didn't usually let family serve in the same area,

but If I thought we could get along he would make it happen.

I told him that Errol and I hadn't had a fight since 1964 when he left on this mission.  After that I couln't pick a fight with him.

We had a great time.  I had to be careful not to show favoritism but it was great to have someone there who could run all of the equipment,

work like a horse and had a wonderful wife to cook for us.

 

We worked together played together and at Sixth Crossing we often cried together because the spirit was so strong.

In short we had a ball.

 

Our motto at Sixth Crossings was "The beatings will continue until Moral improves"

 

  Between Errol and Elayne and Terry and Patsy our summer couldn't have been better. 

To Serve with 2 brothers and 2 sisters in Law was the best. 

 

The one thing that I have known since I was a kid was that my brothers had my back.

 They were always there for me.

 

I hope I can always be there for them.

 

I pray all goes well for Terry and Patsy, as they are left to finish up the job we started.   

 

JB

 

 

From: Christy B. Dyer [mailto:christybdyer@gmail.com]
Sent: Monday, April 16, 2012 8:51 AM
To: Errol Bagley
Cc: terry brunson; patsyqbagley@hotmail.com; oleyeller@oleyeller.com; lbwdesigns@silverstar.com; scarlet@mckellars.net; tractorman@cableone.net
Subject: Re: Brothers

 

Families are the best!  Errol, since you aren't going back to Wyoming....Cochabamba is open.  I just don't know how Elaine would get all of her equipment down here!  But you are welcome to try.  Your sister in a far, far away place.

On Mon, Apr 16, 2012 at 1:52 AM, Errol Bagley <eebagley@hotmail.com> wrote:

Elaine and I were released this week from the Wyoming Handcart Historical Sites. We had been back twice this winter to work on the new visitors center and we had indicated our willingess to come back in June and July of this summer if needed. During the winter three building missionary couples had been called and it was apparent that they were going to have plenty of missionaries for the summer without us. We were grateful to have served in such a unique mission.

 

John and I had basically parted ways when I left for my mission 50 years ago. With the exception of our summer time visits to Wyoming/Idaho for a few days we had not been together much. I think there was some apprehension on both of our parts to be thrown together in a small group with him as the director and ecclesiastical leader. For much of our growing up he had been my sometimes obnoxious younger brother and I had been his sometimes overbearing older brother.  It turned out to be a sweet experience. With the exception of me dropping a heavy log on his fingers once and him shouting some instructions while I was atop the sisor lift tangled up in four hoses trying to sandblast the ceiling there was no cowboy language exchanged between us.

 

I think we were both careful that there was no perceived favoritism shown with two brothers in the camp. John was an equal opportunity offender. He worked us all like rented mules. After a month in camp one of the older Elders came up to me and asked "Are you sure he is your brother?"

 

It became apparent that we both had a bit of a devious sense of humor which was helpful to make it though the day.

 

On my last interview with President Fenn I expressed thanks for being able to come to this mission. I also told him that I didn't think they could have found a contractor in the Western States that could have, with the help of a few senior missionaries brought a 10,000 sf three story log building from foundation to metal roof in a single season like my brother had done. He agreed.

 

The picture is John and I standing at the top of Prospect Hill. We wanted to stand somewhere were Anson Call would have for sure been. The sometimes multiple trails come together at this point for a long single pull up a hill. Thanks for the memories Grandpa.......

 

Errol Call Bagley

 

Brothers

Subject: RE: Brothers
Date: Tue, 17 Apr 2012 06:44:30 -0600

Thank you Liza for all the tender memories.   Each day we can make another good memory.
 

---

Date: Mon, 16 Apr 2012 14:14:04 -0700
From: lbwdesigns@silverstar.com
To: julie@mckellars.net
CC: eebagley@hotmail.com; brunsotmt@gmail.com; patsyqbagley@hotmail.com; gracechristy@sbcglobal.net; oleyeller@oleyeller.com; scarlet@mckellars.net; tractorman@cableone.net
Subject: Re: Brothers

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

  I echo the feelings of all. I have said to  my children on numerous occasions that I hope that they continue to enjoy their close relationship with each other as much as we do as brothers and sisters. I think we have actually become closer since mom died. We used to keep in contact through her and now we do it direct.

I think of the spontaneous times that we have been together. A year ago in August when Errol and Elaine were taking Heidi to Cody to celebrate her birthday where she had been born. He called and invited any to join him as they went through Sixth Crossing to see John. It wasn't the perfect timing but I just couldn't not go.  The only thing that makes a gathering better is to have more of us together.

I think of when John called and said let's fly down and go to Jerom's wedding to share the event with Errol and Elaine. 

 I was overjoyed to see Errol and Elaine walk into the chapel when Tav and Tate were speaking and to have Errol and Terry come over to the Jackson fair and see the boys there.

Christy surprised me by popping in on a dance recital, maybe it was John who flew her in. 

Jerry would sometimes drop in on me on his way here and there. I remember a lovely lunch that we girls had at Patsy's in Jackson. She served a frozen fruit compote.

Being able to stay with Terry and Betty for a couple of weeks before the twins were born was such a blessing.

 We have had numerous adult dinners at Julie's.

Being together is a taste of heaven here on earth. Think of the amazing time that we will have when we are with Mom, Dad, Jerry and Grandpa and Grandma Bagley and Call and so many others that I think we already have relationships with even though we didn't know them in this life.

Oh there are good times ahead!!!

Aa we walked down the beach on the Pacific coast of Costa Rica i heard this song playing. It could be the theme song of our family.

 http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=seZMOTGCDag

I don't remember if I mentioned in an earlier email that on the Caribbean side we heard a group singing the song "I Had To Leave a Little Girl in Kingston town". I sang right along and had a flashback to Jerry singing the song in his sweet tenor voice. We the got on youtube and listened to a number of Harry Belafonte songs and had a little "time with Jerry". We miss him. 

Love to all, Liza

--- julie@mckellars.net wrote:

From: Julie Mckellar <julie@mckellars.net>
To: Errol Bagley <eebagley@hotmail.com>
Cc: terry brunson <brunsotmt@gmail.com>, <patsyqbagley@hotmail.com>, <gracechristy@sbcglobal.net>, <oleyeller@oleyeller.com>, <lbwdesigns@silverstar.com>, <scarlet@mckellars.net>, <tractorman@cableone.net>
Subject: Re: Brothers
Date: Mon, 16 Apr 2012 12:41:20 -0600

Dear Errol:

I loved your little summary of sharing time

with John at Sixth Crossing.

Thanks for recording your thoughts.

I know that Dad and Mom would both be tickled to know of this

intertwining of your lives at this time.

Isn't this what we all want?  The love of our children to continue and increase.

We want so much for them to share and enjoy one another.

Our own children learn more from what we do than any other way.

Our times together are very important.  Let's not forget to make them happen.

We will continue to need and and love one another.

I have so often told Liza and Christy that the greatest gift 

Mom gave to me was my sisters!

Both my brothers and my sisters have been so important to me,

I am proud of all of you and so ready to call attention to the fact that

you are MY BROTHER or SISTER!

I so often call attention to my own children of the

bond that we have.

I love you all, and this extends to your wives and husbands!

Love, Julie

On Apr 15, 2012, at 11:52 PM, Errol Bagley wrote:

Elaine and I were released this week from the Wyoming Handcart Historical Sites. We had been back twice this winter to work on the new visitors center and we had indicated our willingess to come back in June and July of this summer if needed. During the winter three building missionary couples had been called and it was apparent that they were going to have plenty of missionaries for the summer without us. We were grateful to have served in such a unique mission.

John and I had basically parted ways when I left for my mission 50 years ago. With the exception of our summer time visits to Wyoming/Idaho for a few days we had not been together much. I think there was some apprehension on both of our parts to be thrown together in a small group with him as the director and ecclesiastical leader. For much of our growing up he had been my sometimes obnoxious younger brother and I had been his sometimes overbearing older brother.  It turned out to be a sweet experience. With the exception of me dropping a heavy log on his fingers once and him shouting some instructions while I was atop the sisor lift tangled up in four hoses trying to sandblast the ceiling there was no cowboy language exchanged between us.

I think we were both careful that there was no perceived favoritism shown with two brothers in the camp. John was an equal opportunity offender. He worked us all like rented mules. After a month in camp one of the older Elders came up to me and asked "Are you sure he is your brother?"

It became apparent that we both had a bit of a devious sense of humor which was helpful to make it though the day.

On my last interview with President Fenn I expressed thanks for being able to come to this mission. I also told him that I didn't think they could have found a contractor in the Western States that could have, with the help of a few senior missionaries brought a 10,000 sf three story log building from foundation to metal roof in a single season like my brother had done. He agreed.

The picture is John and I standing at the top of Prospect Hill. We wanted to stand somewhere were Anson Call would have for sure been. The sometimes multiple trails come together at this point for a long single pull up a hill. Thanks for the memories Grandpa.......

Errol Call Bagley

<100_0016.JPG>

Officer Bagley & Mr. "B"

Date: Thu, 9 Feb 2012 21:57:22 -0700

To my surprise today as I was waiting for my junior high students to load up Officer Jarom Bagley rode up on his bike. I did not know that he was working school security at the adjoining school. We chatted for a minute though the drivers window and then he came around to the bus door and  boarded the bus. I didn't know what his plan was but I gave him the microphone to the PA system.

Jarom introduced himself as Officer Bagley and instructed my passengers to be thoughtful , courteous, and especially kind to Mr"B" as he  wasn't as young as he used to be. My students were almost speechless. Jarom cuts quite as imposing figure with his broad shoulders bulletproof vest, shaved head, and police side arm. As he finished and was walking off the bus the kids gave him a big cheer.

I drove for a couple of miles and couldn't contain myself. I had to tell them that I had four other boys like him and three daughters to boot. They then gave me a cheer.

Got to love these kids..................................Mr. "B"

Priceless

After six times on the operating table last year I had to leave my bus route rather abruptly before the end of school. The driver who took over was a "redneck" type fellow from Tombstone Arizona who was missing one front tooth. I was somewhat reluctant to leave my beautiful students in his care.

The first day of school each year is a notable event for students which sometimes involves new schools, new teachers and new bus drivers that they will be spending the next nine months with. As I approached my group pickups on the first day of school this year I could see the students straining to see through the reflective windshield to identify who the driver was. As they got on I could see some smiles and restrained approval that Mr. "B" was back. On my next to the last pickup the restraint was lifted as one of the junior high girls that had been on my route for three years gave a shriek of joy upon seeing me. At first I thought it might have been because of my rugged good looks. On second thought it was probably just because I was well groomed and had all of my front teeth. 

After I got everyone on board I took the PA microphone and welcomed the students 20% of who were new to the bus. I told them I was called Mr. "B". To my surprise the bus erupted in cheers with fist pumping in the air.[ Now I'm thinking maybe it is because of my rugged good looks.]  I went on to tell them that my bus rules were pretty simple. Stay in your seats while the bus is moving. Don't throw things and no jumping out of the windows at speeds over 35 mph. The new students seemed confused at the last instruction. The pay is still $12.50/hr. The cheers were priceless.

After a few weeks I decided that I would sing to them each Friday morning. I had much to sing about. I had lived through six operations. I had made it through a summer on The Sweetwater with John as my boss and I was looking forward to a Arizona winter with of my children and grandchildren. I doubt that when manufactuerers of "Thomas" buses mounted eight speakers in the rounded metal roof of a 40 ft. school bus they were thinking of the singing bus driver. The acoustical effects are quite remarkable.

The first Friday I selected the poem "Trees" by Joyce Kilmer that has beautifully been put to music. I told them to listen carefully to the words. 

http://www.bartleby.com/104/119.html

As a second number that day I had them join me in singing from Disney's  " It's A Small Small World". They were quite good at this one.

http://www.stlyrics.com/songs/d/disney6472/itsasmallworld512140.html

 

 

 The next Friday I sang the version of " Ghost Riders In The Sky" made famous by Johnny Cash . This song too has a cowboy message.

http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/f/frankie_laine/ghost_riders_in_the_sky.html

 

 

The third week the PA system broke down so it was a "no song Friday" without explaination. To my surprise a half of dozen students asked me on the way off the bus why I hadn't sang that morning. Well that is all us "aging" transportation entertainers need is a little encoragement and who knows when and where we will be singing. I think Johnny Cash would be proud.

 

Coming up this week is a short song from "Oklahama"

 

Mr. B

		Priceless VIEW SLIDE SHOW DOWNLOAD ALL ADD MORE PHOTOS This online album has 3 photos and will be available on SkyDrive until 12/26/2011.

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Handcarts

In the first picture of the handcarts are rickshaws so that the youth can pull disabled friends on the trek that may not be able to hike. The second picture is me moving picnic tables around the campground with the skip loader. The third picture is our 140 handcarts that we are getting ready to re-oil with linseed oil. I also got my spray machine out this week and painted the 24 new picnic tables that we built for a new campground.

This online album has 3 photos and will be available on SkyDrive until 08/15/2011.

http://www.dump.com/2011/05/13/she-takes-a-photo-everyday-for-4-5-years-video/

Dad

		.

Women of the Church

Dear Family,
 
The two pictures are of Mom [third one in] on one of our women's pulls. This is part of all the treks to have the men and boys leave the sisters to pull the carts alone. You will notice that these carts did not have several hundred pounds of luggage in them. We then tell stories of how in former times and now the women of the church are called on to pull the load alone.
 
Having said that I would like to devote some time to Ashley's graduation with honors from collage. I had to remember back to our stake trek and the women's pull that Ashley was part of. None of the several women's pull sites here are as difficult as the one Ashley was on. It was a heartbreaker that our North Stake sisters thought they were going to die on. The men watching from the trees thought we were going to die just watching as the sister would block the wheels with rocks when they could go no farther. When they got to the top most just dropped to the ground and cried.
After they had rested, as leader of one of the groups, I instructed the girls to step away from the handcarts and told the boys to pull up the final non challenging hill. After going a short distance I looked back and all of the girls had disregarded my instructions and were back helping with the carts. We as men are lucky to have such women in our lives.
 
Ashley, Mom and I will celebrate with you when we get home. Rest assured that this accomplishment did not go unnoticed. Love Dad  We are very proud of your accomplishment. I know the end was hard to get through as your interests were in other things, but you stuck it out, and as the years go by, you will be glad you did. we love and miss you all  mom

Another Day on the Trail

Today was another day on the trails with handcarts and telling the stories that we will tell the trekker youth. We were just telling them to the other missionaries. We are having some surprisingly sunny days even though we have to unhook our water hose each night so it does not freeze. Elaine is changing from four layers of cloths to three layers. Dad

Happy Mothers Day

Happy Mothers Day to all the mothers in our family. We are so proud of you and miss you. Sunday we did our 120 mi R/T to the Cove for church. This was our second trip this week to the Cove. We have been hiking their trails and some of ours, over 10 miles this week. This is the "weeper" mission. There are so many stories that we have to learn and tell. John has told some of the stories dozens of time and still can't get thought them without emotion. Elaine and I have been called to be the" handcart wranglers" this summer. We will be in charge of getting the handcarts to the proper locations for the trekers. There are four locations within twenty miles. We use 3/4 ton trucks with long trailers. Sometimes we will have a trailer behind another trailer. After church we had a potluck dinner. So far there has not been a shortage of good food as these displaced mothers show off their cooking skills. E&E

The “catheter”

FEBRUARY 1, 2011

2:00 P.M.

Scottsdale, Arizona

 

If any of you in the western states heard a wild scream at that time, it was me as my catheter was being removed. I had thought that these devices only went into the bladder. It felt like mine was being pulled from my throat. In saying that I must admit that I am a wimp and am against pain in any form. My day at the doctor’s office began with a large but pleasant young woman escorting me to the exam room. When she told me to drop my pants and lay down on the exam table I did just that. In this state of Le Grand Exposé she began by taking the staples out of my abdomen incisions. Given the fact that I am beyond ticklish this was a mixture of hilarity and pain. For some reason at this point another young lady comes in to ask the first one a question. Perhaps the second female was just checking up on the first to see if some new form of torture had been discovered for future urilogical patients.

The “catheter” in for five days, while annoying, had not been as troublesome as I had expected. You have a large bag for nighttime use and a small bag that is attached to the inside of your calf for day use. To empty the day bag you just put your foot up on the edge of a toilet or fire hydrant whichever is closer and turn the valve.

When the office girls got done with me, the doctor came in to explain that pathology had confirmed  20% of my prostate to have been cancerous.  The cancer appeared to be contained to the prostate, which is no longer among my current list of internal organs.

Then came the “Talk”. The good doctor gave me some free Viagra pills with these simple instructions: “Use it or loose it”

With those encouraging words I make my way though the waiting room wondering if my diaper make me look fat.

Mr. “B”

Thanks for coming back Mr "B". Those relief drivers were scary !!

Perhaps less than a dozen times in my life I have felt deep emotional pain/sorrow. I don't mean the lump in your throat kind. I mean the kind that originates somewhere inside your chest and you are hoping to find a switch to turn it off. The first time I remember this happening was just before Rob left home to go to BYU. I was driving at about Broadway and Country Club. I came at that time to the realization that once your children leave home they generally only come back as visitors. That of course is part of life's plan and it is a good plan. The last time this happened before yesterday was when I dropped Ashley off in SLC on her way to BYU Idaho.

Tuesday morning I had my first doctor visit since my surgery a week before. My post surgery week had been lousy. This had been my sixth time on the operating table in one year. While it was only a one hour surgery my body seemed to be rebelling from the intrusions that involved knives and anesthesia. I had started driving several days before the doctor visit. I would drive and come home and go directly to bed after each run. I wondered each morning if physically and mentally I should even be driving a bus. It was decided by me and my doctor that I should quit driving and apply for a medical leave of absence. This in fact was the only way that  I was going to be able to come back to driving without losing my seniority #, good route, and good bus. I called dispatch and told them that I would be gone for the near future and I went directly to bed.

The next morning I realized what I had done and I had my melt down. I had been driving for three years arguably some of the best students in the school district to the Mesa Academy for Advance Studies. I was their Mr"B" and I knew them by name. When I came back from my numerous sick leaves I was always greeted with enthusiasm. Thanks for coming back Mr "B". Those relief drivers were scary !! I had been practicing my departure speech for a week and I left without even saying good by. Well there you have it. A crusty 67 year old bus driver with a heart of mush.

Mr "B"

"Do you wish to state a religions preference?"

I don't know if I shared with you that I will be going in Monday morning for another surgery. The hole near my belly button where they took my prostate out did not heal up properly and left me with a hernia. It is an outpatient thing.

Friday night a lady called me from the hospital to ask me a long series of health questions. I don't like these long telephone inquires but I tried to make the best of it. This is how some of our conversation went.

"Do you wish to state a religions preference?"

"I'm LDS."

"Do you smoke or drink?"

"No , they don't let us".

"I know you are not suppose to but since I don't go to your church you could tell me ".

"Really I don't".

"Do you ever have any anxiety attacks"?

"Yes sometimes".

"When does it happen"?

"Usually when I am laying naked on an operating table".

" Who will be accompanying you to the hospital at 6:00 AM"?

" Either my wife or my girlfriend--whoever I can wake up".

Maybe I shouldn't have told her I was LDS. Actually we were both about laughing to tears by the end of our conversation. EB

To my Academy and Franklin passengers

Note to my Academy and Franklin passengers;  If any of you read my stories I do wish you all well. It has been an unexpected pleasure to be your bus driver at this point of my life. Mr. B

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My Only Concert

If the walls of a home could absorb music and then reflect it back some day, the music in the walls of the Grover ranch house would be Franz Lists' Leibistraum.

 

Sometime in my last years of high school I took in upon myself to memorize this reasonably difficult piece. I have a good ear for music and I am all right at interpretation. Reading the music and transferring it from brain to fingers was an exercise that I had to work for. This work happened early in the morning sometimes even before Dad was awake and after school. I'm sure it made Mom happy as she had encouraged any of us who would pursue the piano beginning with my first piano teacher Ruth Clark. For the rest of this small three bedroom one bath household there would have been no escaping these endless drills on the Kimball piano.

 

Sometime after I had memorized this music someone talked me into performing it at the regional high school music contest at Evanston Wyoming. I think I only agreed to this, because I knew that was no real audience. The individual performers played only before a judge [A BYU music professor] and what few other performers happened to be waiting for their turn. The place for our performance was the LDS Stake Center and I was scheduled to play in the afternoon. Several of us wandered over to the stake center in the morning to see what was going on and the professor told us that if any of us wanted to play at that time there were openings. I didn't want to play ever but I was dying to get the anxiety cloud that was following me gone. I went outside ran around the entire stake center to calm my nerves, came back in and told him I was ready. To my surprise he gave me an "A".

 

This "A" came with a price. Those who got "A's" were then invited to perform at the closing music concert at Star Valley High. This was an audience of the entire student body, faculty, and parents. What was I thinking? My biggest audience to that point was playing the hymns occasionally for seminary class. In SVHS the guy heroes were athletes not piano players. Most of the student body didn't even know I played the piano and now I was the featured pianist in the closing high school concert. There was something wrong with this picture. At the appointed time that evening I left the relative comfort and anonymity of the trombone section and made my way to the grand piano. Apparently I was too ignorant to know that there was a very real chance of tunnel vision and complete black out setting in such a situation. With the exception of playing one part twice the performance seemed to go without flaw.--------Athletes of the high school eat your hearts out. Is it possible that the meek shall really inherit the earth?  

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