“Missing Flight? Missing Person?” By Chad Robert Parker

Airport

“YOK,” “yok,” “YOK,” “yok” the goof-ball kids I mentored were exclaiming, half bored and half on a mission, as they marched back and forth in the airport. They were alternating speech and each holding up a sign. One sign read, Yok (sounding like yoke or yolk) the nickname for the foreign exchange student we were to pick up. The other sign read, Welcome.

In college I had left a girl at the airport. I forgot to bring my cell phone. After driving around for a couple hours and walking through the terminals a few times I gave up. I figured she would have contacted roommates and other friends by the time I was done looking. Unfortunately, when I got back home she was not there. Her roommates ended up going and picking her up. I felt horrible about that. I don’t know how I never saw where she was sitting, waiting, outside along the pickup curb. I was not going to leave anyone else stranded.

This young Chinese girl could be even harder to find. I didn’t know how we were going to track her down. The flight she was supposed to be on had arrived and we never saw her exit the security area to the baggage claim in the thirty minutes we were waiting.

My counterparts were getting a bit restless. They were pushing each other around in a wheelchair and starting to annoy the Senior citizens. We put a call out on the PA system for Yok to come to the Service Desk. Yok didn’t know much English so I didn’t know if she would catch her name being called out or know where to go. We went to the International terminal also, although she wasn’t supposed to be on an International flight for her last leg. We tried the PA system again 15 minutes later. Finally, an employee of the airport accompanied Yok back to us upon realizing we were the one’s looking for this little Chinese girl she had found wandering around.

“The Real Story Behind My Car Accident” By Chad Robert Parker

Car Accident

In February of this year, I was in a car accident. I told police I was driving my 2004 Honda Pilot up the hill on University Parkway between Provo and Orem. I finished work at 5:00pm and was traveling home like I had done for almost 9 years. I assume I was traveling near the speed limit: 40 miles per hour. Then came a domino effect of cars slowing down in front of me, which abruptly rippled to a halt. I stopped with a car length between me and the next car. In my rear view mirror I saw the next car coming at full speed. It was as large as anything I had ever seen in that mirror. I was going to be hit. I braced for impact. That horrific clashing and crunching of metal and glass rung out. My left calf kicked the steering column. Surprisingly my airbag did not deploy, but I was scooting toward the car in front of me now. I braked harder. The car behind me slid off my back left panel. The car in front of me drove forward. I let my car roll ahead to a stop, breathed a sigh of relief, leaned back, and tried to process it.

I was a sitting duck. There was nothing I could do. I realized I might need to help free others from the wreck and unbuckled my seat belt. I pushed on my front door, but it didn’t budge. I slammed my body against it and it opened. By then a couple other drivers helped two high school girls out of a white Nissan Rogue. She apologized profusely, claiming something about straight A grades and never being in trouble before in her life. I tried to reassure her that this is what insurance is for (though I am still hoping for a $500 deductible refund). She was just dropping off someone’s car as a good deed for her dad. The owner did not have insurance. I took some pity on the girl and never did report how she and her friend were dancing wildly to the car radio.

“Just Passing Through” By Chad Robert Parker

Hospital Visit

When you are in a third world country one of the last places you want to have to visit is the hospital. I served a two year proselyting mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in the Philippines in 1997-1999. We went out two by two, as a good safety measure for one, and we were among the native peoples everyday, but we had to take some other extra precautions to keep from getting sick, for example.

The locals referred to it as a weak American stomach, but we boiled water every night to be sure we killed off bacteria. Then we placed it in our fridge to be nice and cold in the morning. One day my companion was doing us a service by chipping off a thick wall of ice in our freezer with a knife, only he punctured the wall and the Freon came spilling out. We constantly joked with the locals that there were only two seasons in the Philippines, hot and hotter, but this was an El Ninyo season so it was a particularly bad heat wave that brought on drought conditions.

When we learned it would be a week or more until our freezer and refrigerator were fixed we opted to buy cold 1 liter sodas everyday from the vendor that lived below us. They didn’t have much bottled water available at the time, but I elected for that when they had it. One morning my companion could not move from his bed. He was holding his stomach and groaning. He barely wanted to talk. I took him to the emergency room. He had thought he would never beg to visit the hospital, but this was an exception.

They discovered that he had a kidney infection from our soda drinking. Lucky for him they gave him medicine and sent us packing. He got off easy as it was only an infection not yet a kidney stone, and we didn’t even have to stay the night. He thought I got off too easy, so I always teased him that I didn’t bust the fridge.

“Visiting the Sick” By Chad Robert Parker

Called in Sick

Good friends pay a visit when you are sick. They come to cheer you up. If you are really blessed they bring you more than well wishes and might even care for you until you are back to health.

It was almost 10am when banging on the outside door shook my whole 640 square foot apartment. It startled me awake and sounded like it was right outside my bedroom door. I slid from the covers, pulled on a tee-shirt to go with my pajama bottoms, and cautiously walked toward the front room. It literally sounded like the cops were outside ready to barge in. “Chad, we know you are in there.”

I rubbed my eyes and opened the door. There stood tiny, staring down from over his sunglasses, overalls already dirty and mud on his boots from a rainy day, nicknamed in jest for his gigantic build. I sneezed. “Oh, you really are sick.” He ruffled my already disheveled hair.

“We thought you were playing hooky.” My tattooed counterpart, whom I normally work with, explained, as they both stepped through the entry. I knew they had been working since 6am so I suspected they were only really visiting because they were tired.

“You owe me,” the first said. “You got anything to eat?”

“He had to fill in for you,” the second explained.

“What, you don’t like our crew?” I asked him as he rummaged through my fridge.

“Nah, actually I’d rather work rotary (billboard changing).” He spun around and shut the fridge. “You got nothing. What do you eat?”

“I know and I’m sick. You two should be bringing me food.” I joked.

I turned around and the other was sitting on the couch surfing my few local TV channels. “You don’t have cable? What do you watch?”

I shrugged. “I don’t hang out here much.”

“Well, you can sleep away the day if you want. We got work to do.” Tiny motioned to the other.

“I’m still resting!”

“But I’m hungry!”

“And I’m sick!” I pushed them out into the elements and went back to bed, with no regrets.

“My Whale of a Time,” By Chad Robert Parker

Sea Sick

I think it was second grade. We went on a whale watching trip. It’s funny what stands out in my memory. A couple boys from another school were proudly singing Bruce Springsteen’s 1984 hit, “Born in the U.S.A.”

It was a rather amusing scene. They had bandannas tied on their heads and were rocking out with their air guitars. As they hopped around pushing each other they often bumped into passersby. I remember thinking they were kind of violent with how they purposely jumped towards girls standing in our orderly line of students. These kids were my age, but they were acting like punk rocker wannabes. It was kind of funny and kind of threatening at the same time, even though I was born in the U.S.A., too. Their teacher soon got them to stop after several attempts to make them behave and I’m sure including some threats.

Then we were out on the ocean, salty misty sea breeze through our hairs, skiffing across the waves. I didn’t think such a big boat would bounce on the waves as much. I didn’t feel the ocean sickness until about halfway to the deep blue. I sat down and breathed in deeply. I ate some of the goldfish crackers my mom had wisely packed for me. Then the dolphins came alongside the boat, racing us, falling behind and crossing each others dives in our wake. In truth, I was really skeptical that we would see any whales. The boat knew where to go if there were whales to be seen. It was colder in the deep water. The wind and our wet shirts stuck to our bodies. Sure enough, a whale surfaced and spouted water out of its blowhole. Our boat stopped. The sun split through the overcast sky. It was like straight out of the movies. I couldn’t believe the majestic sea animal we were witnessing. Another appeared. And another. It was a great day for whale watching. I wondered what else was in the great sea and went home thinking it was good to be born anywhere on this beautiful Earth.

“Northern Minnesota Waterways” By Chad Robert Parker

Camping Out, Lake Trip

Minnesota is beautiful! There are trees, hills, and lakes. Lots of lakes. More lakes than you can imagine. I have a portrait on my wall with the glowing embers of a fire at the side of a canoe-in campground. It’s almost magical! The memories of lake camping are equally magical to me.

My family loved picking a lake to visit for a weekend trip, camping nearby, boating, swimming, and fishing. Some lakes were better than others. Leech lake was aptly named. Yuck! Around Duluth was always cold. Always! You may think, of course it is, Minnesota is a winter wonderland. Visit once during the summer. You will be surprised. The rather private settings are full of hidden gems. The fear of cold keeps most away. Even up North there are four distinct seasons, however, and it gets plenty warm. Believe it or not, some days are hot and humid. On those days, farther North is ideal. You can relax to a warm evening amidst the sweet smell of pine forests.

On one camping trip a photographer was taking pictures for a book about Northern Minnesota’s roadways. He was capturing shots to show off the beauty of some less traveled areas. He asked if he could include a picture of my older brother, who was just playing around in the lake, looking like Huck Finn, while standing on a raft we had taken all morning to lash together from fallen logs. We obliged like roadies getting some limelight. Then we played the rest of the day on our raft. I miss those days on Minnesota waterways.

“Who Wears the Pants?” By Chad Robert Parker

Worst Date

When you “go dutch,” it’s difficult to know who wears the pants. Even if responsibility for payment transfers to one person it still isn’t always clear. I found that out when I met someone who will remain anonymous. For me I have at least one thing in common with anyone I meet. I try to focus on that when meeting a wide range in the dating game. Some years ago I befriended a redhead who fit most of the stereotypes. She was forward and fiery. She asked me out on a date.

These days I am told that it is flattering for guys to be asked out. Not so fast. I was skeptical at best of this mixed up approach. You see something has already broken down, and someone is missing the boat, when a girl resorts to that with me. If I were interested I am certain I would not have been shy about asking her out. She had certainly done more than her part to drop hints and flirt and show how she liked my friendly nature. In her case, it was almost coming on too strong, but I’m a gentlemen and took it in stride.

She called me up. I agreed to a date. She chose the Clark Planetarium in Salt Lake City, a good date stop. I have been there often, for better or worse, before and since with varied success. I responded enthusiastically to her date idea.

Then she asked me what day and time I would pick her up. I guess at this point she was shifting responsibility back to the man. I hadn’t thought about using my gas. I figured we would grab a nearby train. We could each pay for our own. She then informed me of our time constraints. I picked her up according to her plan.

When we arrived to pay for tickets she literally took two steps back. I paid. When she wanted to eat at the most expensive restaurant, I chose the food court. I saw how far she would go and then did not go out again.

“Natural Water Park” By Chad Robert Parker

Favorite Vacation

My favorite vacation is easily Lake Powell, Utah. For a desert lake it is quite beautiful with plenty of outdoor enthusiast appeal. Though I came back with scorched skin and a horrible ear infection, accompanied by a splitting head ache to endure the entire 24 hour drive home, it was worth it.

My extended family rented a houseboat and our reunion with Aunts, Uncles, and Cousins was spent water skiing, cliff jumping, fishing and camping on the beach. The red rock cliffs are breathtaking and awe-inspiring. We were sure to check any cliff’s for outcroppings before jumping off of the 10-20 footers. We spent lots of time basking in clear waters and playing games with water toys. We loved exploring the many coves and paths. Yes, the lake is that big! It is a source of stories for a few firsts that I am sure will get recorded in other anecdotes here: a great adventure to be sure.

I think the water is down more and more but one of these years the family needs to get back together and relive that vacation. Spectacular!

“Provo Get Away” By Chad Robert Parker

Staycation

They say Provo is boring. Straight-laced students can’t possibly have any fun. Have these critics ever heard of the great outdoors?

When I was a Scout Leader I rediscovered some great adventures in my own proverbial backyard. We had been planning a trip to Jackson Hole or maybe The Narrows. Canoeing the Green River was awesome but who wants to do the same thing again and again from year to year.

The biggest challenge is scheduling 15 and 16 year old boys for an outing together. Hanging out with other guys is not always high on the priority list. Cars, girls, and making money for cars and girls probably ranks higher. No, that’s oversimplifying it. A good outdoor adventure is enticing but they wanted it to be close and convenient. Provo delivered.

We camped up the canyon at Hope Campground. It was just enough out of the way to be roughing it for a night. We flew through the trees on zip-lines, rode horseback around a trail with a myriad of scenery and varying landscape near Sundance Resort, tubed down Provo River, albeit in the ice cold run-off, and found plenty of picnic areas for lunch before the day was through. It cost less and didn’t leave out any of the frills for the outdoor adventurist in all of us that was just waiting to be coaxed out.

I’m already planning on a future family vacation as an outdoor staycation in the Provo area.

“The Closest My Biking Came To Cycling” By Chad Robert Parker

Biking / Cycling

We were working on our Cycling Merit Badge. Every week we knew what our Scout activity would be. To get ready for a 50 mile trip we would need several 10-12 mile trips to build up to it. Our leader was my cousin. He liked biking and it was a good way for him to keep somewhat fit. He planned out a safe route through country roads. Another leader, usually my dad, would follow us, with hazard lights flashing, in his car.

It was cool that we could bike right from the church parking lot where we had our Scout meetings. We started early on the first trip. We had to gut it out to get back at a reasonable hour. I think it took us about an hour and twenty minutes. We shaved it down to an hour and then to 45 minutes. That was quite the feat for all of us to do. Not everyone was in very athletic shape. We started increasing the mileage to 15 miles and even 20 on a Saturday or two.

The 50 miler was going to be daunting. We packed water and lunches. We set out. I remember sweating a ton, feeling exhausted at midpoint and not wanting to check on others as much as before, along with bigger hills for longer stretches. The downhill of course was great. The uphill was not as good. One kid had never quite figured out what gears to switch into and how to do it in stride. He must have been extremely tired. I remember stopping a little farther than the halfway point, a nice surprise, and in good timing. We actually felt so revitalized after lunch. Our bodies were not only ready to go again but the remaining miles felt more like the cool down phase rather than too much exertion. It’s the farthest I ever intend to go on a bike, however.