Pokeman stop and go...

Marc and I aren't really into Pokeman Go!
We're just doing research.
We feel we owe it to our grandkids and to the public to know what's hip.
It's important as news people to keep up.
So when Marc came home dancing because he'd been playing Pokeman at work, I made fun of him at first and then persuaded him to take me with him to find some virtual creatures.
(Our daughter and son-in-law had come to dinner and showed us that we have a Pokeman stop right by our house. The wagon wheel post box owned by the guy next door gives you Pokeman balls just for checking in.)
(Then our grandson came over to tell us the playground nearby looked very profitable. He and Marc went searching.)
This is obviously something worth investigating. So we headed out to see what this is all about.
I had briefly signed up for the app and then deleted it because it was sucking the power from my phone and I didn't want to have to worry about it.
Besides, I can go along for free on Marc's phone.
We headed out.
Turns out the American Fork Library grounds are littered with Pokeman creatures and people walking around like zombies trying to catch them.
On the way to and from, the phone was making the crashing sound that tells us we're near something.
It's very addictive.
I love surprises and treasure even if they're odd-looking, fantastical creatures with no real purpose in life.
This is fun!
Now we've introduced Pokeman Go! to two other grandkids.
Marc took them down and showed them the sights and raised his Pokeman Go! level by two levels.
They had a great time and came back all enthused.
They were fascinated by the sport and by all the people walking around with their phones out and their heads down.
They made new friends.
They scored a lot of captures.
Now their parents will probably have to get the app and share their iPhones with them.
We apologize.

Shooting from the hip

I thought it a little odd that there were guys in the parade pretending to have a shoot-out, especially since we are all reeling from the killings of police officers in Dallas.
I was sitting in my camp chair watching from the shade, expecting to see a typical, Americana-style,  Steel Days Parade with the bands and floats and such.
For 26 years, Marc and I have come to the parade.
In the beginning, we were packing our cameras and notebooks. We were looking for cute little kids in wagons and pretty girls waving from city floats.
We were high-fiving city council and county commissioner and governor candidates.
We had years surrounded by children and grandchildren scrambling for the candy tossed our way.
We waved to Mayors Savage, Beck, Durfey and now Hadfield.
We applauded wildly for the American Fork Marching Band.
It's been a tradition the last few years to ride down on our bikes to the band breakfast and hang around for the parade.
This year, I was on my own as Marc had a dress rehearsal for his current stage play.
I was comfortable in my chair and happy, expecting the usual.
So I was surprised when these guys came along with golf carts decorated with flags, one of them a Confederate one.
They piled out, pulled out pistols and aimed at each other.
The guys in back fired.
The guy in front fired back (fortunately with blanks).
It had all the earmarks of an old-fashioned street gunfight, an in-your-face gunfight.
The parade watchers — me included — were all dumbstruck.
It didn't seem to fit in, this scene.
I thought at the very least it was way insensitive, given recent events and raw emotions. At the most, it was profane.
It wasn't until afterward that I realized it was probably unauthorized as well.
American Fork City has since issued an apology and insist the entry was NOT blessed by the parade committee.
How it got in there is a mystery.
Why it got in there is another.
The only thing I know for sure is it didn't belong.
Here's the video: http://kutv.com/news/local/american-fork-calls-confederate-flag-at-steel-day-parade-troubling-display-of-hate

Keeping up with Cael

It seemed like a harmless venture.
Cael — who is 2 and 1/2 — wanted to check out the slide on the other side of the new Ivory Park.
He could see it from the splash pad and headed in that direction while his sisters and I were playing in the fountains.
He went south so I did too.
(First of all, Mia, his 5-year-old sister, tried to go with him and hold his hand but he was having none of her direction. He fussed at her and so I went along to keep the peace.)
It was kind of a trek but it looked like a fun playset with a slide and climbing features.
I had kicked off my flip-flops so I could enjoy the cool grass with my toes but I hadn't realized the wood chips covering the ground around the playtoy were not feet-friendly.
They hurt to walk on and I quickly retreated to the pavilion cement pad.
Cael started climbing with Mia.
She found a kind of plastic seat thing that Cael wanted to be on as well.
He couldn't reach it so I tried to come over to help.
"Ow, ow!!"
I retreated again. Mind over painful matter didn't work.
So Cael began to climb up a ladder made of metal rungs and rubber hoses.
He was successful although it was pretty challenging for him.
I looked at him standing with Mia about 10 feet off the ground.
Oh dear.
There was no simple way back down, no slippery slide or climbing wall or steps.
I was going to have to go get him.
Because I love him and didn't want him to die, I walked back over, wincing at each step. The chips bit into my tender feet with no mercy. However, I didn't feel I had a choice.
I made it to the tower they were on but I couldn't reach Cael.
He was too high up and he wanted down.
I tried standing on one of the metal rungs but I couldn't get a good hold of him with one hand. He waited, assuming grandma would save him.
I didn't know what to do. I couldn't go for help. No one else was around. I didn't see that this was going to end well.
He thought I was getting him so he started down. The best plan I had was to try and catch him as he fell.
It was really scary.
He stretched his little legs and feet out and then grabbed hold. Mia was cheerleading. I was sweating and praying.
He worked and wiggled and made it perilously from rung to rung and to the other side without falling through.
He was all proud of himself and fine in the end.
Me?
I'm rung out.