Anybody that knows my Dad would agree that he is the funniest guy around. He may catch you of guard with some of his smart-alec remarks and dry sense of humor but you can't be around him too long with out laughing your guts out.
My dad has a thing for names, if you happened to meet him whether he knew your name or not he would probably say "How ya doin Butch", unless of course your were a bit older than him, then it would be "How ya doin Heber" or a bit thinner "How ya doin Slim". Sometimes when he heard a real great name (usually one of our friends) he would call everyone he saw that name for about a month. For awhile he called any of our friends who came to the house, male or female, Ashley Radebaugh. Another time to anyone who came over he would ask "Are you Annie Reimschissel?" knowing that they weren't . . . and then one day it was Annie and he was caught by surprise. And if you were really lucky he would have a song that went with your name and he would sing it anytime he saw you, like Moses a boy that we babysat, he would sing "Moses supposes his toeses were roses but Moses supposes erroneously." My song was "Me and Jenny" by Carly Simon, the song usually went with a dance in the front room.
Speaking of songs and dance, I was a privileged child because while other kids woke up to an alarm clock I woke up to my dad signing the Beatles "Wake up, get out of bed, drag a comb across your head . . . " and if we were still too groggy to get up he would carry us to the front room couch where the blinding sun shinning through the windows would do the trick. Bedtime was similar except the bedtime song and dance was to the Beverly Hillbilly's theme song, "Let me tell ya story bout a man named Jed, poor mountaineer barely kept his family fed . . . and so on."
My poor mother probably felt like she was raising four children at times, rather than three. Church was never boring as long as we were sitting next to dad. While a nice upstanding member of the ward was up at the pulpit my dad, being an artist and funny guy, would be in the pews drawing cartoons of that person with three eager kids watching as the form took shape. Usually Bro. so and so was a sheriff or a cowboy with a caption under it saying something funny like "yall better repent or else." Church hymns were a bit more lively too, especially when that one song goes "Glory Glory Hallelujah, Glory Glory What's it to ya." Now he sleeps up on the stand at church as a member of the Bishopric, but when it's his turn to speak it has been said that he has everyone "rollin in the aisles" with his off the wall remarks.
My Dad has a way of turning normally dull or sad times lighter. One of my earliest memories of this was when my great-grandma Alder passed away, I was very young and I think it was the first funeral I ever attended. The funeral home was very dark and gloomy, as you would expect, and we kids were uncomfortable there. My dad, most likely bored too, took it upon himself to lighten the mood. He shuffled around the carpeted room building up a static charge so when he touched one of us it would give us a jolt and then he would say "This is all very shocking . . ." Of course we all followed suit shocking each other and saying how shocking the experience was. Another time on a family vacation to the cabin we were all gathered around the dinner table, (I had brought a friend who just happened to be the stake president's daughter), and as we bowed our heads to have a prayer my dad said "Bless the bread, bless the meat, the hell with that now let's eat". Everyone laughed except the stake president's daughter, she was soo shocked, then of course he said a real prayer to make up for it.
Growing up with my Dad was a blast, almost as fun as hangin out or working with him when I was a teenager, and now that I don't get to be with him much I realize how much I miss him and how lucky I am to have a wonderful, and very funny Dad!
