|Copyright A.V. Dutson|
Not-so Terrible Two's
Life was great in my neck of the rockies. Home was a small town in northern Utah, named Hyrum after a Mormon prophet's brother. The brother that died with him. It was always a serious story.
But growing up then, I wasn't concerned yet about death and didn't know much about life. I just wanted to play and my preferred playmate was a cousin that lived two hours away. She lived south of Salt Lake City in a town with twin smoke stacks. One of the smoke stacks had a picture of Colonel Sanders on it. I liked his chicken even though we didn't get it very often.
I don't remember it, but apparently one of those rare play dates, my Aunt Sharon and Uncle Charlie brought a kiddie pool out onto their covered back yard deck. I loved that deck. It was like a tree house and was cool even on the hottest days. You were even high enough to see the neighbors houses. Sometimes you could even see them jumping on their trampoline. For a kid from the country, suburbia seemed like an exciting place with jets and police sirens all day long.
Today, I live twenty minutes from my aunt and uncle's original house. I'm under the flight path for Salt Lake City airport and near a firehouse sub-station. Suburbia ain't nearly as exciting as I thought it was...