The green, green grass of home...

              The green green grass of home, Tom Jones.

I chose the above song because it seemed fitting for today as it was one of Dad's fav songs from the late 60's. Of course, Dad was a longtime San Jose bar owner (Saddle Rack otherwise previously known as the Continental Lounge- it was the smaller bar within the iconic western music bullriding bars-- there were two) with his longtime partner Bea, and back then you couldn't open a saloon room door with having this tune rush out to greet you. I remember him at home singing this and playing it on his guitar albeit usually in the early morning hours (as he said everything sounded better at that time).
I remember back in 7th grade, and it must have been a Saturday, as I was drying dishes after breakfast and I only did that on weekends, otherwise, I was scooting out the door on the way to school. Gram was washing the dishes and had just handed me a breakfast plate to dry when dad, who was seated at our 1950something breakfast table, was telling us (over pouring himself a second cup of coffee) that he and Hank were going to merge the businesses (Continental Lounge) with Hank's Lit O Bit of Sweden restaurant (they were next door to one another behind Sears & Roebuck (which had at one time been O'Connor hospital) and they had decided western was the way to go and that they had finally settled upon a name and it was going to be called the Saddlerack-- as it was kinda catchy.
Isn't it funny the moments that stand out and that we remember? As they say, the rest is history... they went on to do very well with this business merger.
Today, marks Dad's 21st passing. On one hand it seems longer than this, while on the other, it's only moments.
And while thinking the sharing of stories would be the way to honor his passing, the above is not one of the stories I had orignally intended to share, but there it is anyway.
The story I had thought of is one of my fav childhood stories of his. Dad was always mischievious, nothing pleased him more than when aunt Bette got in trouble and he wasn't held accountable for the incident. Typical boy.
Anyway, they lived in the Santa Clara home that I grew up in. The driveway was one of those 2-lane, 1930 cement pathways with ivy growing in the center. At the end of the driveway and several yards into the street was a manhole. On this particular weekend, they were getting ready to go to the show (movie on Hester Avenue). Bette was in the Model A and was backing the car down the driveway. Dad rushed into the house, where gram was in the kitchen, at the sink (where the big window was). He ran up to her and noticed that Bette wasn't paying attention to the open manhole that awaited her- he was 10. Insead of telling her to be careful, he was excitedly saying, she's gonna do it, she's gonna do it!
My grandmother asked what he was talking about. Dad replied, Bette is going to to drive into the manhole. Then he excitedly ran into the living room to look out of those windows, repeating his mantra. Gram came rushing in, made it to the front door in time to see aunt Bette back into the manhole.
My grandmother who was beyond angry at this time, asked my dad why he hadn't done something? Dad innocently replied, I did. I told YOU she was gonna do it! By this time he was laughing so hard, Bette was in tears, gram was beside herself. She did the only thing she could, she grounded him from going to the movies. And years later that was the part he felt bad about. He still remembered the title (which I can't) of the movie he missed that day. This story become one of those that was passed around and brought up when I found myself about to get into trouble.
I may come up with more stories throughout the day, but one thing for sure is that I have chosen tons of family photos to share with you. Gotta love George Eastman who developed film for Eastman Kodak, what a great invention!
Another song from the 60's, Those Were The Days My Friend, which was also another fav of dad's and another barroom hit closes out this blog.