June Bug

Secret of Life #1. June 11th.

As both the minute and hour hand pointed north to the clock's 12, in 1957.. it ushered in the day that would welcome my father to the world. It has been fascinating living in my father's hometown, in his high school home, with his parents, occupying his old bedroom, employed by his former coworkers, and meeting people who have the same profound admiration and respect mirroring my own for my father. Calling his hometown my summer city has been a true testament to his character and legacy. He is a man of integrity, humility, genuine respect for people, a worthy priesthood holder, dedicated father and husband, and my hero.

If you, my few and far between viewers will indulge my little girl tendencies, I proudly admit I want to marry my father. Or at second best, a Michael Mangum-esque reincarnation. Some of my (many) favorite memories of my father include...

• The daddy-daughter Middle Fork of the Salmon river trip and ferociously swatting away the swarming insects during the tent-free night before take-out.


• Establishing great classics like Jackson Browne, Simon & Garfunkle, and Bruce Springsteen as my musical backbone.


• Listening to Prairie Home Companion on the exhausted trip home from skiing Bogus Basin, while munching on rice krispie treats (which were definitely made from the marshmallow bag recipe, not the cereal's version).


• His incredible wisdom and lack of hesitancy to permit (and pay) for a life-altering weekend stay in Salt Lake two years ago.


• His endearing laugh at the jokes he and I totally get, understand and relate to (even if it may be at a Mangum-Clifford's expense, sorry.. All it takes is one look at each other and we KNOW, followed by a simultaneous large smirk) And those jokes that bond he and I so closely together, as we are very alike in our attitudes and ideals on life (or so I would desperately wish to think).


• And one of those jokes pertaining to the tapeworm, the cookie, and the hammer.. which I made him tell over, and over, and over... including company parties, retrospectively being totally insensitive (at age 8) to his reluctance to tell it 'one more time,' but he did anyway to please his elated daughter.


• Fishing with him on the river and as soon as a fresh-water creature latched onto the end of my line, unable to think what actions I should take to reel in my dinner due to my excitement, and resorting to just a yell instead, "Dad! Dad! Daaaaad!" Not to mention, the scorching bike ride back to the car, which was fully occupied by my statement on constant rewind, "Now we know what it feels like for Arizonians," and my older brother loosing it and snapping at his ten year old sister... My dad just smiled, kept his cool, and politely prodded Parker to ignore me.


• And on.. And on.. And on..

If it weren't for you June 11th, my father and subsequently myself would not exist. Hence, for very selfish reasons, I owe you my first born. And though no one may appreciate the sentiments I have divulged, this is my dedication to the number one man in my life.

I love you, Dad. And yes, you too, the eleventh day of the sixth month.

Secret of Life #2. June 14.

My Nani's (grandmother) 83rd birthday.

Secret of Life #3. June 18th.

My late Papa's (grandfather) birthday. And for SoL #2 and #3, more to follow, stay tuned.

Secret of Life #4. June 20th.

Self-explanatory; but for those who don't know (ahem, I SO did NOT have to Google it's significance, how dare you accuse me of condescension), the first day of summer shall arrive. And hopefully warm weather along with it (but here in Utah, there are no guarantees).

Secret of Life #5. June 25th.

Though it be of severe less importance to the 11th, this day isn't so bad either (I may be turning the ripe old age of 21 in the fourteenth day to come). Really, though, it's main relevance and validity is to the effect it adds to my post's title. And that Saint Nick will turn thousand something and one half.

Secret of Life #6. June 27th.

Jerry Seinfeld. And the four tickets my sweet grandmother purchased as a birthday gift. 9:30pm and the following one hour and 45 minutes will be an absolute riot. And we all know how much I love to laugh. ("What a pity, for I dearly love to laugh." -Elizabeth Bennett).

There. Six whole reasons to love June. Let's celebrate. Birthday cake, anyone?