Monday, 30 August 2010
My grand-dad and I have something a peculiar relationship. Well, perhaps peculiar isn't quite the right term. It's certainly something special. To most people, he's an ornery old goat, grumpy at best, with a stubborn streak that goes down deep. He's a supporter of Sarah Palin, chooses to believe, from time to time, that Obama's presidency is illegal, and has decided, along with his crazy-as-heck wife - that he isn't going to vote - at least those are the convictions of the day. And, you know, those young, crazy whipper snappers are driving the good ol' USA towards inevitable ruin and damnation.
And yet, in spite of being one of the good old boys, my Grand-dad has a great sense of humor and, left on his own for any amount of time, will soon have made friends with whoever happens to be standing around. A war veteran and handy man, he's definitely earned his retirement which usually means the daily trip with his dog, a friendly Bichon, down to get the mail in the mornings and watching the Western Channel turned up real loud in the afternoons.
What can I say? The lovable, old curmudgeon and I have a mutual soft-spot for one another. It started when I was little. He used to stay up late at night helping my dad navigate through the treacherous waters of 'Some Assembly Required' in order to ensure that his gal got her shiny, new doll house for Christmas even though Jolly Saint Nick would be getting the credit and glory.
As I got older - and arguably more interesting - we found a few new tricks to play on one another. I remember tearing around the house, both of us armed with rubber bands. Gotta give him credit for teaching me to shoot properly, especially as I proved a quick learner. To this day, we often tuck a rubber band or two into cards sent at birthdays and holiday times. You'd think that two mature adults would have eventually out-grown shenanigans like that. Not us. If anything, I think we got worse. On one particular occasion during this trip, we spent our time wandering around a value store, whacking each other on the head with pool noodles while my mum conspicuously walked in the other direction leaving my grand-dad and I laughing like little kids as we battled our way through the aisles.
What's the point of this entry? I couldn't say for sure. I wanted to share some of my photographs from Arizona. And the reason I was in Arizona was to visit my grand-dad which, unfortunately, only happens every few years. Also, sometimes it's refreshing to have a break from art; think of it as a good gawp and stretch creatively. So there you have it - a few snapshots of Arizona and a bit of a personal anecdote about a goofy old man and his rascally grand-daughter.