Dad!

My Dad is pretty much the raddest dad ever. Let me tell you a bit about him. He gets up really early every day to go to a job that he doesn't enjoy all that much, but he never complains about it. He just wants to support his family. He is such a hard worker and he saves money as much as possible so that he can do things for us. He gets dirty and tired and hurt selling eggs, cheese, etc. in a company that his grandfather started.

I've been lucky that past nine ten or so months to ride with my dad to work every morning. Although I've thought many times of leaving, I am not yet ready to let go of that awesome time I get to spend with my dad. TRAX is near his work, so I just hitch a ride to his work, put invoices in order and file receipts for a while before he takes me over to TRAX. Whenever I have books that were due the night before, we go past the library kind of on the way and drop them off so they'll be checked in on time. Sometimes he needs help with his computer at work or he wants to show me a forward Uncle Rick sent. There are two things he does without fail every morning: he comes into the living room, stooped over, and says, "Mishk, you ever get tired?" and he points at his screen saver (that I taught him how to set) and says, "There's Jamesy!" (My nephew, his first grandson.) I enjoy reading the Book of Mormon to him on the way to work. I used to wonder if he was listening. I'm sure some days are harder than others. However, he says things when I'm done reading (or in the middle of) that tell me he's listening. He may not do his own reading or studying as often, but he has a strong testimony and he thinks deeply about the scriptures and shares those thoughts with me. Dad is generous and helpful, and I don't worry when telling him things that he'll look at what I'm saying the wrong way or that he'll tell everyone.

An avid Utah Utes fan, my dad buys season tickets with a whole pack of other people. They have a tradition of throwing M&Ms on the field and seeing if football players will pick them up and eat them or smash them into the ground. Once, a cheerleader we knew slipped on one. Every score used to entitle a pass-around of the donut holes. Unfortunately, Uncle Bud's mind has slipped a bit and he doesn't attend anymore, so it really depends on if someone else picked up donut holes. Dad builds big Us with those rope lights lining the edge. There are three styles: the Super, the Deluxe, and the Ultimate. The Super is comprised of one color (red or white) and the lights (red or white). The Deluxe has two colors (red with a white border or white with a red border and red lights). The Ultimate has red in the middle, white or silver pinstriping, a black border, and red lights. He works on these at work, in the garage at home, and while he's watching TV or movies. It's not surprising to find clipped twist tie thingies all over the family room floor. Since there is a freezer at work, my dad has a lot of sweatshirts that he wears daily. They are all red. I think one is not a Utah Utes one, but Dad wears red sweatshirts more than anything else. His office has sports paraphernalia all over, from the Dodgers, the Utes, and the Jazz.

Dad likes to repeat things. He'll come in, knowing perfectly well where Mom is, and say, "Where's my babycakes? Where's my babycakes?" When he finds something really cool in the paper, he'll hold it up in front of you, sticking his finger on it, and say, "The shuttle's launched. The shuttle's launched." Or, "The Utes won. The Utes won. What about the Utes won."

Sometimes late at night, Dad will do this thing where he leans all his weight on you and you (at least I) can't help but fall over. Sica has built up her strength to hold him up and he always says, "Sic supports me." I fight to keep him up, but I end up laughing and losing him.

Dad loves scouting. He loves helping the younger Scouts and camping and doing merit badges. He is on the Great Salt Lake Council and has been to the last seven National Scout Jamborees. This is why Jeff calls him Jambo Dave. His jambo nametag says "Little Dave," because there is a tall Dave too, and my dad is not known for his height, rather the lack thereof. I believe he is 5'6". After being the trekmaster for the youth trek this past summer, his peppery beard got him the name "Jambosama" since his beard reminded people of Osama bin Laden.

From posing with Sica's dates, wiping French fries on his face, and showing off his baby-bird fuzzy hair that is still left, pictures of Dad are always goofy. He likes to tell jokes and be funny, and this shows in his pictures, a few of which are shown here. He started a top ten joke list to be read at his funeral, but I think it has become more like a top twenty-five list.

One thing that my dad and I are both very interested in is astronomy. We love watching the Perseids every year. Once, we laid on the hood of the car outside of the cabin in Brighton at 2 AM watching the Perseids, and noticed some weird thing in the sky. We debated about it. "It's not the Milky Way, you can see that along there." "City lights have never come up this far." Etc. The next morning, in the Deseret News, we saw an article that said, "Northern Lights come this far south for the first time in 52 years." We saw the Aurora Borealis! Ha! Dad checks the NASA website quite often for shuttle and satellite sightings. When there are ones with high angles in the sky and they are longer than two minutes, you know that's a good one he's going to want you to see. I haven't quite figured out what is so exciting about a little light moving across the sky at a regular pace (at least shooting stars are sudden and they disappear), but it is exciting. He always waves at the satellites, hoping they're taking pictures.

Dad also knocks on our kitchen window to get the dogs' attention, then he waves, saying, "Hi Kota, hi Nes!" He always ends up shaking his head and saying, "They never wave back."

Dad loves people. He serves them. I don't know how many times he has done my dishes or helped me do my dishes. He likes to do his home teaching. He doesn't complain about giving me rides or letting me borrow his car. He leaves eggs, butter, and cheese on his sister's doorstep. He has looked for flights for me. Once when I was telling him about the things stressing me out, we got interrupted. Then he said, "Mishk, step back into my office." He said, "How can I help you? I just want to help you. I don't have a lot of money, but I will help you in other ways. I love my Mishky Doodle!"

I love my Dad!