The Saturday Morning Post - April

Greetings.

Things have been so busy for me lately that I haven't had the time to post, read posts, or spend much time on Facebook. (Yes, I know this is Blogger, but I'm on Facebook more than Blogger) I haven't even been checking my personal e-mail account as regularly as I should. The last time I let that go too long I had over 100 new e-mails. So let me update you on the highlights of my life.

The Baby

We picked his first name: Jordan. We haven't decided on a middle name yet. I was actually surprised when my wife Laura suggested Jordan. Jordan, you see, is also the name we picked for the baby that Laura lost nearly two years ago. One of the reasons we picked it then was because we knew it would work as either a boy's name or a girl's name. Laura suffered the miscarriage before we knew the gender of that baby. Laura is 5 months along now, and as of the last ultrasound, all is well.

Brady

He and his cheer squad continue practicing for the world championship in Florida. This event begins Friday April 23. Just last weekend, he had a competition nearby in Anaheim (literally across the street from Disneyland). I didn't get to see him perform, but Laura did. That particular competition was not their best performance. They did better in Dallas and in Palm Springs during February.

Nina

She has a new best friend (Marley), and has enjoyed multiple play dates, and a sleep over. She was also recently awarded student of the month in her class, and was recognized at the 4th grade assembly in front of all her classmates. Mom and dad were in attendance too!

Jordy

He and I walk nearly every morning before I leave for work. Well, he runs down the street with me in tow. We move at a slightly slower pace as we return up the opposite side of the street. He stops and smells everything, and when he urinates against a tree, he usually hikes the wrong leg.

Laura and I have discussed the possibility of the confusion that may occur after the baby is born because of the names Jordan and Jordy being so similar. Time will tell if that happens, but confusion is no stranger to this household.

The Mustang

My mom found a buyer for my dad's 1966 Mustang. An old friend / band member from high school, Steve Howe. Steve actually graduated the year before my older sister, Diana, which means he was a senior when I was a freshman. Anyway, he was in to Mustangs then, and my mom feels much better about the car going to someone she personally knows. Steve will also take good care of the car.

My Finger

Two Saturday's ago, while working in the yard trimming the hedge, I nearly severed my finger. Okay, well I'm exaggerating. I seriously cut the tip of the finger. This was the most painful injury I have ever incurred. I have always said (to close family and friends) that I have a high tolerance for pain, so when I say this was the most painful injury, I assure you it hurt like a mofo. I actually felt faint, not because of the blood loss - I controlled that quickly - but from the sight of the blood (more than I am used to). I'm better now, but I will probably have a scar forever.

Angels Flight

I found the picture below at my mom's house. I've recently been going in to downtown Los Angeles for business, and I saw the Angels Flight where it currently operates (not where it's pictured here). I have no idea when this picture was taken, but I would guess it was in the late 1960's. In it, you can barely see the top of the 3rd St. tunnel. Today, in this very spot, you can hardly see any ground; it's all buildings. I'll post a picture at a later date so you can see it as it presently looks.

Thanks for stopping by, and I hope you visit back on another fine Saturday morning . . .

The Sat. Morn. Post, Vol. 14 - Papa's Mustang

Is it Saturday morning already? I guess I missed posting something last week. Actually, I've been so busy with work and things going on in my personal life that I didn't have the time to post. That works out fine, because I didn't have anything to say anyway. I give a lot of credit to the people that can post daily (some of whom are linked on my side bar). I can't imagine how you come up with things to blog about. I guess that's how boring my life is. Anyway, I've hardly had time to read blogs either, and I miss that.

This week's post is about something I've never written about before: my dad's Mustang. Back in 1966, my dad (Papa, as we all refer to him) bought a Ford Mustang GT. He loved that car, and so do many other people - including me. Sadly, Papa Kirk left this world 9 years ago and is likely playing the back nine at St. Peter's Country Club.

I was lucky enough to drive the Mustang daily for a few years in a row - while I was still living at home - during my senior year in high school, and while I attended Jr. college. By then I had saved enough money to buy my first (used) car. Today, I'm the only one who gets to drive it. Once a week when I visit my mom after work, I also start up the Mustang. I alternate driving it every-other week with just idling it on the opposite weeks.

Well I guess I should show it to you:

These pictures were taken in my mom's driveway a couple of years ago. If you're interested in purchasing this classic car, it was appraised at $12,500 a few years ago. My mom will accept nothing less than that price. I wish I could buy it, and I also wish no one ever does.





God willing, and if I can come up with something else to talk about, I'll see you next Saturday morning.

The Saturday Morning Post - Vol. 9 - More on The SMP Vol. 8

Last week I played golf. Last week was the La Habra Corn Festival. Last weekend started as if I was on the road to H-E-double hockey stick.

I've written before about the golf tournament named in memory of my dad, and about the Corn Festival and Parade. Last week, for the first time since the golf tournament was established, the two events took place on the same weekend. The thing that complicates this is that the weekend also coincided with the start of my daughter's cheer leading season. That means it coincided with the start of my wife's cheer coordinator season. That means it all added up to stress, tension, anxiety, unpredictable expenses, and emotional moments that I would prefer not to have experienced.

So what happened to make it such a challenging weekend? First, the background information: every year, the boys and girls of La Habra Pop Warner Football and Cheer get to march in the La Habra Corn Festival parade. The little girls - those on the flag squad - get to ride on the float. Last year, the float was awarded a prize. This year it's the 40th anniversary of the La Habra Pop Warner Football and Cheer's existence, so something special was supposed to happen in this year's parade - the 61st annual. Well the person in charge of the parade for the league had a personal crisis, and bailed on her responsibilities of coordinator, and of towing the float.

My wife finds out about this on Thursday - two days before the parade - after all the little girls were told they would be riding on the float. But all is not lost: the coordinator dropped off her trailer (the would-be float) at our house on Thursday evening. My wife and some cheer coaches and cheer moms decorate the float on Friday. I get home from work Friday night and opt to hook up the trailer (float) on Saturday morning before I leave for my golf outing.

Saturday morning comes and I find myself struggling to hook up this trailer (float) only to find my hitch is not compatible with the trailer's counter-part. The owner of the trailer is contacted and arrives to assist. Also assisting in this effort is my wife's grandparents (our next door neighbors). Between all of us - we can't hook our truck to the trailer / float. And, by the way, I am overdue to leave for the 1 & 1/2 hour drive to the golf course to play in the tournament.

I was already worried that my wife would be towing a trailer (float) loaded with 5-7 years olds, while my daughter marches nearby. Did I mention that my wife has never towed anything in her life? My nerves were shot. Not the best frame of mind to be playing golf - that is if I arrived in time for my start time.

Well all worked out fine. It was decided that the trailer had some problem with the device that attached to the hitch of our truck - so no towing (or driving in the parade) would take place. All the girls - disappointed little ones included - would have to walk the mile and a half parade route. I would have to drive like a maniac for an hour and a half to get to the golf course. I would take my first swing at a golf ball on the first tee - approximately a year after I took my last swing at a golf ball on the 18th fairway. I shot something that I would be more proud of if I were bowling. I forgot my camera, so I have no pictures to share. And my wife forgot her camera too, so I have no pictures to share of the parade.

So you are left with reading another boring post about my mundane life, and all I can offer is a few links to previous year's post's of a similar topic. See you next Saturday morning.

The Saturday Morning Post - Vol. 8 - Golfing Today

I'm playing golf today. I used to be a semi-regular golfer, but now it's just an annual outing. Today, just as in the past several years, I'm playing in a tournament named in the memory of my father. I'll post more about the event and maybe a picture or two - next Saturday.

Happy Father's Day

Hi everyone. It's been nearly 6 months since I've posted anything on this site. I guess I never really went away. I stopped reading blogs for about a month, and then slowly started reading blogs that I've always liked to visit, and finally dropping comments on them again. I've posted occasionally on my off-road club site, but those posts were few and far between - until recently. And I'll be posting there more often over the next couple of months as I share pictures of our last club outing.

I figured it was time to post something on this - my family blog site, and why not in honor of Father's Day? After all, I'm a father, and I should be able to do anything I want to . . . today. It's also a day that, in the past, I've posted something in honor of my father, Carlos Aguirre, or as everyone in my family affectionately called him: Papa Kirk. If you care to read my earlier post, posted on Father's Day 2006, it was dedicated to him.

In another post, not having anything to do with Father's Day, but one that was also about my father, reader LA wrote me a nice comment, to which I replied and promised a story about how Papa Kirk got his nick name. Here's that Earlier Post in it's entirety, and here are the comments I just referred to:

LA - "Bittersweet indeed. Anniversaries are hard, but it's nice to memorialize our loved ones. That's a sweet picture of you and your children."

"Sometime will you explain why you called your dad Papa Kirk even though his name was Carlos?"

Me - "LA, I'd love to share the story of how the name Kirk came about. It will be in a future post."


Here's the story:
When my dad was born, he was named Carlos. In his young adult years, he hung around with a group of friends. They were the ones who called him Kirk. I really don't know why, and neither does my mom. My mom met my dad after this nickname came about, and my dad's family had a different nickname for him: Chali. (Chali, roughly translates from Spanish to English as Charlie.) So no big mystery, his nickname Kirk came from his friends; the boys he used to hang with before he met my mom, more than 50 years ago. Here's a picture of them:

My Papa Kirk is the short one in the middle of the back row. Sorry for the quality of this photo. It's a digital image of a restored photo. Here is a close up of him thanks to the zoom feature on our digital camera:
Now the "Papa" part of Papa Kirk came about after my parents met and got married. Their first child, my older sister Diana, is responsible for the "Papa". When Diana was learning to talk, she added that to his name. Similarly, she added "Mama" to our mom's name, Norma. To this day, my mom is referred to as Mama Norma by all of her kids, grand kids, and many nieces and nephews. And up until his death in 2000, and in fond memory of his life, my dad was and is referred to as Papa Kirk.

If you're a father, I hope you had a great Father's Day. (I did). If your father is still with you, I hope you wished him a Happy Father's Day. And if your father is no longer with you, I hope you thought of him today. Thanks for stopping by and reading this. All my best, Dan.

A Bittersweet Anniversary

It's hard to believe that seven years has passed. It seems like just yesterday. Brady's 7th birthday party was taking place on a hot Saturday afternoon. Laura was 8 1/2 months pregnant with Nina. We were trying to keep our guests comfortable in our patio, but that's hard to do with little shade and a warm breeze.

The kids were playing in the backyard, alternating between our Dough boy pool and the jumper with slide that we rented for the party.

My mom (Mama Norma) and grandmother came to the party, but my dad (Papa Kirk) had to work. Papa worked at Disneyland, and on this particular day was working at the toll booths at the main parking lot entrance.

I remember that the party was pretty much over, although there were a few guests left. Some friends and relatives traveled quite a ways to join us, so they weren't in any hurry to leave. Most of the guests had gone when I got a call from my sister that something had happened to Papa at work, but she was not sure what. All we knew is what hospital he was taken to.

It wasn't until I arrived that I found out the sad news. Sometime during the following week the funeral was held, and during the reception after the Mass, several employees of Disneyland (co-workers and friends of Papa) made a presentation to Mama Norma. They had all signed one of Papa's uniform shirts, which they gave to my mom. And they presented Mama with a plaque to commemorate a stone marker which would be placed in the large open area between the main gates to Disneyland and California Adventure.

Every time any family member visits Disneyland, they stop at the marker to visit Papa. Here is a picture of the actual marker:
Luckily it's very easy to find, as it's at the end (or tip) of a large group of other markers. Anyone (guest or employee) can purchase one of these markers, and if you've ever been to Disneyland or California Adventure, you have to walk over hundreds of these in order to enter either park.

The date on Papa's marker (11/6/1994) refers to his date of hire at Disneyland. The initials PL (for Parking Lot) indicate the job group he was attached to. Papa performed several jobs, including toll booth operator, parking lot attendant, parking tram driver, and train conductor on the Disneyland train that circles the whole park.

The next time you visit Disneyland or California Adventure, do stop by and say "hi" to Papa Kirk. Here's a picture of me, Nina and Brady doing just that:

A Couple Of Updates

Saturday's golf tournament (the Carlos Aguirre Memorial) was fun. I really enjoyed myself, and my mom, uncle, and cousin had fun too. It was not as hot as we expected; only 90-ish. I didn't shoot as well as I would have liked to. Out of embarrassment I will not tell you my score, but I will tell you it was over 100. Considering I haven't played in a full year, and the difficulty of this golf course, it's no surprise.

There were a couple of memorable holes that I will share with you: Number 5, a par 5, dogleg right with water at the beginning and the end. You need to hit a shot that must carry over water in order to land on the green. The last four years I did not play this hole very well. This time I hit a good drive and a good 2nd shot. I knew I couldn't reach the green on my 3rd shot, so I hit short of the water. My 4th shot needed to be about 75 yards to the center of the green. I purposely selected a club that would easily carry the water (I've been in the water 3 times before). Oops. Too much club. I flew over the green, and then my ball bounced on the cart path and flew over a block wall into the street. I took the stroke penalty (but not the distance as the rules called for). I still had to chip on the green and putt out. I took an 8 - ouch.

That was not the worst hole I played, but I wont bore you talking about them. A hole that started off promising - number 8, a par 4, straight and not too long, I actually landed on the green in regulation. (That means my 2nd shot landed on the green, and I was putting for a birdie.) Oops. I 3-putt for a bogey 5.

The 18th hole was one of my better ones. A long par 5, with an elevated tee; you must hit into a valley and work your way back uphill to an elevated green. Did I mention the water? A stream with little waterfalls and pools, descending from the front of the green to the fairway from right to left. I hit a good drive and a 2nd and a 3rd shot. My 4th shot was the approach to the green, less that 100 yards which had to carry the water. It landed on the green close enough for me to 2-putt. I took a bogey 6. In total I only had 4 single bogeys. No pars, everything else doubles or higher - ouch.

Laura continues to improve, and has been back to work for nearly 2 weeks. Thanks again for all the well wishes and prayers. She is coaching Nina's cheerleader squad, and they are practicing for opening day ceremonies. Laura had a run-in with a couple the girl's parents. 3 girls have been showing up late to practice, which affects the other girls on the squad. Laura talked to the parents after practice last night, and they didn't like it. It got ugly, and Laura had to call one of the league officers to step in. The bottom line is if the kids are going to be late (or absent) Laura wants to know before practice starts. Also, if the parents are going to briefly leave the practice area (parents are required to stay at practice at this age group) to go to the snack shack, or the restroom, or to stretch their legs; just let Laura know. That way if there's an emergency, Laura will know where to look for the parent(s). No big deal, but these bitches really gave Laura a bad time about this very reasonable request.

Brady is about two weeks from starting high school. He's also helping Laura plan his birthday party - a late night bowling party. This time of the year is crazy due to so many family birthdays. Complicating that is back to school, the start of cheer (football) season, and the start of our off road club riding season.

Finally, work has been very busy lately. I don't want to talk too much about work, but it does factor into my life. As I say on my profile - it's a necessary evil.

Golfing With My Dad

One of the fondest memories I have is playing golf with my dad. Papa Kirk, as my sisters and I called him, and as he was affectionately know to many other relatives and friends, was an avid golfer. It’s because of my Papa Kirk that I learned to play golf, and learned to love golf.

These days, due to family commitments and a busy work schedule, I rarely play golf. However, this Saturday (8-11-07), I will be playing golf in a tournament named in Papa’s memory. This is the forth year in a row that I’ve played in the DWP Golf Club tournament at Temeku in Temecula, CA. I’m not sure at what point the DWP renamed this golf outing the Carlos Aguirre Memorial Tournament, but I’m proud to be able to participate. I will be in a foursome with my mom (Mama Norma, as my sisters and I, and many others call her), my uncle Gilbert, and my cousin Michael.

For those readers who don’t recognize the acronym DWP, it stands for Department of Water and Power. The golf club’s participants are employees and retirees (and guests – like me) of the City of Los Angeles - DWP. I participated with my Papa in many a golf outing with this club during my high school years and shortly thereafter.

But the DWP tournaments were but a few of the total rounds of golf my Papa and I played. For years we would go to La Mirada golf course early on a Sunday morning and play the back nine. I can’t tell you how many times we were one of the first foursomes to tee off on the back nine, often times before daybreak. I had to give up a lot of sleep back then, but it was worth it.

We didn’t just play La Mirada, we played other area golf courses too. In fact, I remember when the City of Cerritos (where we lived) completed their golf course, Iron-Wood Nine. We played there many times too.

Papa was so proud of me when I joined my high school team. I didn’t realize it at the time, but that was quite an accomplishment. I had only started playing golf in the summer before my sophomore year, and by the spring of my junior year I had made the team. Unlike other sports teams at school there was only one golf team: varsity. So after the season ended I was awarded a varsity letter, and my parents bought me a letterman’s jacket. At the time, I was not as proud about this as my Papa was. From my perspective, it didn’t compare to a varsity letterman who lettered in football, or baseball, or soccer, or track, or any of those more physically demanding sports.

During my senior year, my game improved and I moved into the # 2 spot on the squad. It was during this period of time when I was at the best of my game. After all, playing nine+ holes three times a week (twice with the team, and then again on Sunday morning’s with my Papa) and going to the driving range two times a week with the team; I was as best as I had ever been. After high school I started working, and the following fall started college, and Sunday mornings as well as DWP tournaments were few and far between.

My Papa and I still managed to play on occasion. Eventually, after my Mama retired, she learned how to play golf too; Papa taught her, of course. The three of us had several golf outings together, and they too are cherished memories. On August 18, 2000, there was a DWP tournament at Temeku that Papa Kirk played in. In his foursome was my Mama Norma and my Uncle Gilbert. The following day The Lord had an opening for a lefty in the Big Foursome in Heaven.

So tomorrow I will proudly play in a tournament at the course my Papa played his last round of golf at. I'm sure we will have a great time, as we have the last three years. I'll post my score after the tournament. My guess is that I'll shoot over 100, and that's okay with me.