Wendy found this, thought this was just plain...AWESOME!!!

Watch Out Pele!

So while I was in Utah, Wendy signed Alex up for soccer. To say that Alex was excited was a vast understatement. He always wanted to wear his new soccer cleats and really wanted to wear his sock/shin guards. Having never played organized anything this was Alex's first attempt at soccer stardom! The team practices and has its games on base on a miniature field with miniature goals...a far smaller field that I grew up on.

So I sat on the bleachers, (which were covered in bird doo), with all the other moms and dads of all the three foot tall running traffic cones and repressed my desire to interfere and tell Alex how to properly kick the ball...you see this was the coaches job and she surely didn't need a meddling dad in the way.

Alex was by far the coolest looking kid out there and is going to get better and better as he grows up.

Getting Alex in an action pose, (like sticking his tongue out when he kicked the ball), proved a bit more difficult as I am not a vetted photographer by any means. I was very impressed how Alex handled himself. He listened to Coach Bev and really had a lot of fun. Now hopefully it will not rain tomorrow and he can enjoy another practice.

When 4-5 year olds play soccer it ends up being a mass of players in the middle of the field, (like a mosh pit), and everyone trys to kick the ball. Every so often the ball will pop out and and the mass moves to the ball. The goalies are left to pick their wedgie or be distracted by the bug that just flew by.

This all is sidelined by another mass of individuals called parents yelling for there kid to kick the ball, (preferably an upside down gravity defying bicycle kick), into the goalie less goal, (goalie was distracted by a bug remember?)

I guess the next big this is T-Ball...bring it on! Watch Out A-Rod!

Say What?

Found this artical quite fasinating as I (an Iraq War Veteran), fall into this catagory.

The Department of Homeland Security declared this month that Iraq and Afghanistan war veterans are at risk of becoming domestic terrorists. While no other government in the world has stated it believes that U.S. soldiers are terrorists – the United States government puts them on a domestic terror watch list. The FBI has recently launched an investigative program, along with the Defense Department, called "Vigilant Eagle," to share information about Iraq and Afghanistan war vets who may have a propensity toward domestic terrorism.
The Homeland Security intelligence report, distributed to local and state law enforcement agencies April 7, is light on any evidence to back up its shocking claim, as put by a Washington Post report, that "the return of military veterans facing challenges with reintegrating into their communities 'could lead to the potential emergence of terrorist groups or lone wolf extremists capable of carrying out violent attacks.'" It cites only to their "skills and knowledge derived from military training and combat" to conclude that these soldiers are, somehow, likely to attack the country they risked their lives to defend.
How does the report get from point A to point B? How does being a soldier put one on the path to becoming a domestic terrorist? The answer is clear and simple – it doesn't.
This war has been going on for nearly eight years. Hundreds of thousands of troops have served in uniform since 9/11. Yet the report finds not a single incident of an Iraq or Afghanistan war veteran becoming a domestic terrorist – not one.

Say No To Popsicles!

Have you seen this guy? You know, the one with the little kids Florida Gators shirt saying no to a popsicle because it would ruin his dinner. Let me introduce my little boy Wyatt. Wyatt is known for spontaneous hugging, kisses, and zerbits (which consist of licking your face). Today Wendy put his hair into a mohawk...well it actually turned out to be a tube of hair running down the middle of his noggin. A very independant little guy, he's into saying "NO" and doing his own thing.
Now to focus on why Wyatt is wearing a Florida Gators shirt we need to go to the source. The Hansens in our ward are hard core Gator fans and when I was on my deployment they saw fit to corrupt my little man and give him blasphemous apparel. RED SOX OR BUST! Anyway this is my Bugaboo! XXXOOO!

A Thought About...Well, Family.

June 24, 2009 brought a few things into my life. Lets start with the obvious point here...my father passed away. Mom was with him at the time and well that's the way it should be. Now Wendy and I had decided that I would go to the funeral. All the brothers, (me included), were all going to be there. Clark (Chief Petty Officer Ret.) suggested that we drive to Utah together which we did. Here lies "the thing that came into my life." I never really knew my brothers the way that brothers should know each other. During the drive back to Utah provided...how did our wives describe it?...brother bonding time. Clark and I caught up on a lot of missed time and back stories. While we had some serious conversations we also had some serious funnies! Let me explained. Clarks wife Mary LUUUVS her Buick...err, ok ok it's really a "grandma car". While we were going through some of dad's personal effects Clark brough back two items of significant humor. I'll let the following two pictures do all the explaining...naaahhhh! Ok so my dad had this taxadermied head of an antelope and we

thought hey, lets take a few pictures of this antelope head in the car. We thought it was as Larry the Cable Guy once said..."that there is funny!" So as you can see the picture turned out perfect. Sorry Mary...we apoligized to Lucile, (we named the car Lucile), another moment of genious by two brothers...two friends.

Ok, so the jokes didn't stop there. Dad also had a pair of mounted spanish bull horns. Now ask yourself what white cadillac from a certain sitcom is the proud owner of a pair of bull horns mounted to the front grill. Yes, Dukes of Hazard is correct. As seen in the next picture we enjoyed a little more mischieviousness at the expense of "Lucile". Again, we're so sorry Mary!"

We took this picture at Wendy's brothers house in Des Moines, IA. Clark is actually consoling Lucile in the picture. Clark and I parted ways here and we both made it home in good time and safety.

During our stay in Utah I experienced emotions that I never thought I'd...well, experience. You see this was all new and foreign to me, (having a parent die), and I wasn't ready and maybe I'm still not to let my father go.

It was planned that all three brothers would be in full service dress in part to pay our respects to our fathers service in WWII. Dad left the Army Air Corps as a Buck Seargent to pursue a passion in painting what he knew...the American West and its beauties.

Mary, my wife, our sisters, yeah pretty much every woman in our family promised to inflict bodily harm upon us if we didn't get pictures of all the brothers in our military uniforms. I know we're pretty much irresistable in uniform, (see below).

So here we are looking smooth...we'll forgive the Clark breaking the Air Force lookalike contest. Scott gave the family prayer before we all went into the chapel for the service.

It was now time to take dad to the cemetary to lay his mortal tabernacle to rest waiting for the resurection to rise up again clothed in Gods glory. This next picture was one of the best ones taken all day, so thank you to whoever pushed the button.

Now I want to take a minute and explain the reason you see a casket made out of pine and not he typical metal ones you normally see at funerals. My dad appreciated nature and the way it showed its beauty. About ten years ago dad had a friend in Mendon make his casket. It then sat in his studio with a indian blanket draped over it. He loved what natue did to the wood and was even more adimant not forcing the family to pay the inflated prices that caskets can reach. It fitted my dad and the life he lived.

Mom asked me to dedicate the grave site and based upon previous interactions with dad I knew this would prove difficult for me. Looking back it seemed as if there was someone comforting me so I could say the words I needed to say. Looking at where he was laid to rest some say that he had the best spot in the cemetary. Laid just West of his Great Grandfather James Hood Hill, he now lays on the furthest west plot there. And if you look up you see this...mind you that this picture is taken further East of the plot.
We will all miss our Father. He touched each of us in a different way. I have wept into my pillow at night with my mind full of questions. Questions that I yearn to have answered. Maybe in time, maybe in time.

But for now I will cherish the time I had with him as a small child when I sat upon his lap and tried with all the persistance of a two year old to push the button on the tape player when he told me not to. I'll remember his many lifes lessons that then seemed pointless to a teenager but now see the years of wisdom behind them, and finally the short time that I had with him at the end. Getting back from a long deployment to Iraq to bid my father goodbye, although in my heart I haven't quite said goodbye yet.

I will enjoy the time that I shared with Clark, maybe understanding him a little better. Thanks Clark!

Thank you Dad, I Love You and I Miss You! Till we meet agian...