There is nothing colder than a North wind sweeping across the Oklahoma plain in January. It bites, cuts, chills and can seem relentless. I served for five years as the Chaplain at the Enid State School for the 1000+ residents that, to one degree or another, were classified as “developmentally disabled”. We as a society have come a long way from the institutions that were at one time considered compassionate care. I replaced a chaplain who had been there 11 years and never held a service for the many residents that died on the campus. I can remember many of…

This past week I have been remembering the “church ladies” who helped to form me. This was prompted by a video my friend Arn sent, called “Church Ladies”. It was full of images from the South of the women who shaped a sense of love and ministry. It was both very funny and poignant. Recently I heard a snarky comment from someone who never lived in the 50’s and 60’s, making fun of the church of that era. The implication is that whatever we call church now is an improvement on their misconceptions and stereotypes. I will try not to…

I remember years ago, there were a number of sad incidents involving children getting hold of medications or other potentially dangerous substances. I also remember nefarious actors creating havoc, as bad things were put into medication bottles or food sources to do harm to innocents. Soon the “Child Proof” bottles were showing up in all sorts of forms. Seals were put on medications and food containers which to Mark, the thirty year old, was no real problem—the minor inconveniences were nothing compared to the harm they prevented. I am not sure exactly when I began to notice that what was…

My Uncle Paul who died last year at 98, once said to me, “Duct Tape is the greatest replacement for skill ever invented”. He then went on a litany of uses for it that proved his point. The best/worst example I ever saw of Duct Tape adapted to another function, was someone who did their entire convertible roof with Duct Tape, and then spray painted it red. I am remembering that the astronauts from Apollo 13 saved their lives with a Duct Taped vent. All of this is to offer an homage to that silver tape that saves the day.…

On New Year’s Eve morning my grandson Zach asked, “Hey grandpa, why don’t you go with me and Estrella (his dog) to the dog park”? It was a beautiful warm winter morning and I jumped at the invite. We live near three dog parks. The biggest is a couple of miles north of us. It’s called the Westminster Open Space Dog Park. It’s a couple hundred acres of dog heaven. Some days the parking lot, which holds at least 80 cars, is packed, along with the side road. This morning we got there as it was filling up. Out we…

It’s a big word… and I love what it describes. Defined by Carl Jung—“A concept of meaningful coincidences where external events align with inner thoughts/feelings without a direct causal link”. This past week I was doing a lot of remembering those very special connections that are no longer living with me. At the top of my list were my parents and my brothers. Two things will bring up those memories with emotional Intensity. Music or smells…the Christmas season is overflowing with both. I was driving back from meeting with my PCP at Kaiser. There is nothing like hearing “You are…

On Christmas break 1959, my parents signed me up for ski lessons at a Mom N’ Pop ski area north of Lake San Isabel called “Broden’s”. It consisted of a rope tow and about one half mile of a straight down hill slope. There I went all bundled up like Ralphie in the classic “A Christmas Story”. I had wooden skis, lace up boots, cable bindings and goggles that looked like something out of a sci/fi movie. We loaded up in a bus at the YMCA and headed on our adventure. I don’t remember much about the instruction we got.…

You never know when generosity will strike. Today I had to take my once very familiar one hour, sixty-one mile, drive to Greeley. I was heading to a memorial service for a very fine man, Bill Rusher. I had known Bill since I was just out of the 6th grade. We met at my first year of church camp in 1961. He grew up on a ranch outside of Ordway, Colorado. We spent five years going to camp together and then reconnected at Phillips University. When I went to interview at FCC Greeley in March of 2017, I noticed a…

It is a common belief that it is “More Blessed to Give then to Receive”. I have found that it is also easier. Many years ago a very wise and insightful elder at the church I was serving in Pueblo said to me, “Mark, why are you so resistent to letting me give you a hug”? I had no answer in that moment, her question haunted me. It was not long after that, that I said to her “Lolita I will try to be better at letting you give me a hug”. Clearly, I learned that receiving made me feel…

Some of my stories write themselves. Others are more like trying to climb a Colorado “Fourteener”. This one in particular has taken two weeks to come together. It’s not an overly complicated narrative but it penetrates deep into one of the more painful and special journeys I have ever shared. Brad and I and about 1,200 other undergraduate students shared our college years in the late 60’s at Phillips University. I was from Colorado and Brad from Kansas. We moved in similar circles. We shared a number of common friends and played a lot of intramurals against each other. Brad…

I have a new roommate. “Estralla” has taken up residence at our home. We are part of the emerging demographic that welcomes 30–something young men into our basement (and his dog). Zach, our first grandson has become the third member of our household for the time being. It’s a win—win for all of us. He runs his very successful handyman business from here. If we were an assisted living home Zach would be the maintenance man, part time cook, entertainment director and human duct tape. Depending on his day’s work sometimes Estralla hangs out with us. She is a delight.…

In 1981 I became the Assistant Minister at Central Christian Church in Pueblo. Thus began another experience of doing something I said I would never do. I backed into ministry, sort of an experiment in looking for a loophole. People often ask me how did you choose to become a pastor? My simple answer is— it’s sort of like the sculptor who is asked how he is going to carve an elephant out of a block of marble. “I just chip away everything that does not look like an elephant and what is left is an elephant”. When I was…

Sometime in the early 80’s I discovered the joy of walking. I began a regimen of daily walks that were usually about 4-6 miles. When we moved to the San Luis Valley in 1986 we lived on an acreage west of town. We soon found a four—mile walk from our home to the Rio Grande River that took us and our amazing dog Smiley there and back. For every mile I did Smiley would run two. I logged the walks on a monthly basis figuring I walked about 80 miles a month on that route, through all four seasons. That’s…

You fail Boomer 101 if you can not name both the actor and the movie that made that line famous—Paul Newman “Cool Hand Luke” 1967. I must have heard and used that reference more times than I can count. Now to an encounter in a barber shop in Montreal. My first memories of a striped barber pole goes back to “Slicks” barber shop in the basement of the Star Journal and Chieftain newspaper in Pueblo. It was a man’s world. Three chairs, the smells of smell—good stuff, and not a girl in sight. I was on my way to manhood.…

Well, I am settling in after an 8000 mile 19 state trek. I found the logistics of trying to write while dealing with the daily moving too much to take on. I certainly have enough stories to keep me going for a few weeks. Today I want to talk about stepping on the soil of the state of Maine for our 50th state in 41 years of travel together. Truly, I had never heard of Eastport before Holland American highlighted it as our next to last stop on our journey through the Maritime Islands of Canada, and then back to…

I am nearly half way through my 36 day road trip and I think it is time to check in. I am writing from upstate New York where we have enjoyed a joyous time in New England. Truly, I had no idea how much I would enjoy this part of the world. Today we are treated to a VIP experience at the Saratoga Race Track, courtesy of our son in—law Dale. Tomorrow we get to worship with a former organist at South Broadway CC, who is the music director at St Peter’s in Albany. Can’t wait to see Dan again.…

Today I was telling a friend about when I used to play golf. We sold most of my golf clubs last week as they were just taking up space. Golf has been a casualty of my Long Covid. I was never very good but I really enjoyed the time with friends and family, and the beauty of the golf courses. Anyone who has played a lot of golf will tell you on most any round you will hit a shot or two that look like you should be playing pro. The other 98… well not so much. Those magic moments…

I have a default restaurant that is 11 minutes from my place. We discovered it three Christmas eves ago. We established a tradition that after a Christmas Eve service we eat Asian food. We were driving back from Greeley with our grandson Zach, headed for PF Chang’s. This was our homage to “A Christmas Story” and we usually had the place to ourselves. We get there and the wait was one hour. Plan B. Hello Google—Zach tells us about one just up the road in a strip mall. We get there and we were the only ones in the place.…

This past week I have been a spider magnet. Little red ones, furry black ones, grey long legged ones walking on my dash board, to mention a few. Maybe it is my emerging age, or my own witness to the sacred nature of life, but I would rather relocate a spider or step over it than smash it. I am neither a pacifist nor an entomologist. As I have shared numerous times I grew up on the edge of the desert. I remember the first time I encountered a tarantula. To a seven year—old, a four inch spider looked something…

There have been those moments in my life’s journey where I hear something that I actually pay attention to. One of those moments came 30 some years ago from a conversation with one of the truly gifted Elders I have known—Ada Beth. I don’t remember the context of the conversation but she said, “You grow where you are planted”. Perhaps that was her way of inviting me put down roots in the San Luis Valley. We did, and it was a life changing experience. Most every Saturday I go to a 12-step meeting held in the center of Denver at…

We had a formerly unhomed couple set up housekeeping at our home. They did not ask permission, and now it appears they are here to stay. About a week ago I noticed that a Mourning Dove was trying to put some nesting material on a speaker on our north patio. I thought “That will never work, it’s too small and slick.” They must have heeded my advice so they moved to the rain gutter in a spot under the eve. The nest is now complete and they appear to be taking turns sitting on eggs. Growing up in Pueblo with…

I was listening on Friday morning to my favorite sports talk show on the car radio. “The guys” were talking about the end of school and all of the rituals that they remembered. The topic shifted to what we called Field Day—basically a time of relay races, frisbee throws, bean bag tosses and whatever kind of competition that can be dreamed up. The three guys all talked about the shift from a time when there were only three ribbons awarded—Blue, Red, and Yellow, to “everybody gets a ribbon”. Participation trophies—yuch. It got me thinking about my time at Ben Franklin…

I just finished my first Long Covid Cohort with my Kaiser health care team. In September of 2021, I spent an 18–day stint in the hospital with a very severe Covid infection. In early December, after a pretty successful comeback from the battle, in which I got amazing medical care, I could barely get out of bed. It was if I had Covid without a temperature. They called it Long Haulers back then. I thought “What the Hell??? So this is my reward for surviving this microbe”? I was told by the lead Covid Doctor at Kaiser—“Mark, I can’t say…

In the Spring of 1976 I made an impulse buy. In the week or so before Easter you could buy baby chicks that were dyed pink or blue. I am not sure where I was on a Saturday morning, but the store I was in was selling ducklings. I remember bringing the box home to show Amy with two little peepers looking up at us. I don’t remember her mom being thrilled by our new additions, however she was a good sport. How they got their names I am not sure, but welcome to our home on East Broadway, Moses…

This past Monday I went to the orthopedic department of Kaiser for my bi-monthly meeting with the foot care nurse. It has been a nice benefit of follow-up after my stint in the hospital last year. Waiting rooms have their own vibe. There I sat, along with a number of folks who were all trying to act like they weren’t nervous. I watched as a mom wheeled a little boy into the space. He had a fully casted right leg. I found myself making up my own stories as to how he broke it. They called his name and I…

On May 24th 1981, I loaded up my Toyota Tercel in Enid, Oklahoma to move back to my parents’ basement, where I would restart my life. In the previous two and a half years my marriage had ended and my brother Don had been killed. I was a mess. I walked away from what was a very satisfying and successful five years as the Chaplain of the Enid State School. I had no plan other than to make a new life for myself. I had a joint custody arrangement with my kids’ mom. They were to go to school in…

Sometimes my kids surprise me in ways that make my heart smile. My son Mateo is spending the week in Mexico City. He has joined a long time friend there to just play. A couple of weeks ago he shared with me about this upcoming journey. This opened up conversation about the six weeks I spent in Mexico, during the winter of 1970, on an Interterm anthropology course taught by one of the finest teachers I ever had—Bob Rhodes. It was the third week of the class when Professor Rhodes called all 30 of us together and said, “Ok, you…

My soul has finally caught up with my body. There is nothing like a 3000 mile, 13 day road trip,to test a 75 year old body. I got to see a number of sites that I had only heard about. The Salton Sea in California should not be there… but it is—all 30 miles of it. Google it up and discover a strange man-made anomaly that was created 100+ years ago by accident. This week I read an article that a 560 billion dollar lithium deposit has been discovered there under the lake—the debates begin. It’s well worth a side…

In 1964 I became an indentured servant at the family business—Cleaver Carpet. I became the “assistant” to both the cleaning crew and the installers. Being the owner’s kid gave me very little perks, other than that I got to learn a whole lot about how people live—for $1.15 and hour. When we were working at a home, the men who actually earned their living would often bring their portable radio. There were two AM music stations in Pueblo—KDZA, which was the classic Top Fifty pop station, and KPUB which was REAL country. Guess which one the guys made me listen…

In 1958 my parents loaded up their 1957 Buick station wagon and pulled a 14–ft. Aljo travel trailer on the first of many road trip adventures with our family. The destination was the great Northwest. My dad, who was born in Bellingham, Washington, was like a salmon who had to migrate to the place of his birth. I was nine years old and I had never seen the ocean. I will never forget our first experience at some state park in Oregon, where I was introduced to tidal pools. They teamed with starfish, crabs, little fish and about anything else…

I have been thinking about the words nice and kind for the last 45 years. It all started when a man who was a member at Central Christian Church in Pueblo, sported a bumper sticker that said—“Niceness is kind of Nice”. It’s a decent thought on first blush, but the problem I had with this display, was that guy was one of the meanest men I’ve ever met in church. Since that time in the early 80’s I push back from the word nice. “Oh she is so nice, they are nice, that was nice, etc.”. I decided after this…

The pandemic of 2020 has been part of our history for five years. Travel was an integral part of my life until then. My dad Bill died 25 years ago today. To say I was privileged is an understatement. He made sure that we saw the world. By the time I was 18, I had been to 24 states and 14 countries. I had planned, by the time I hit 75, to have visited all 50 states and all the continents. Then came Covid. Worse, the next year Covid caught me and nearly took me out. For the last three…

The inpouring of memories that keep coming this time of year—keep it up! I was listening to some friends talking about the various things their families shared, that only seemed to come at Christmas. My mom was half Swedish. Her father was raised on a farm near Essex, Iowa, by immigrant parents who came to the US to farm. She would often tell stories of a wooden Christmas tree that would be decorated with candles that were lit on Christmas Eve. My kid mind wondered how they never burned the house down. Occasionally, she would share a song in Swedish…

Last night, a friend asked me “Did your mom put baking soda in her peanut brittle as she was stirring it”? My answer was “No, Birdie made our peanut brittle”. It will be 66 years ago tomorrow—December 22nd, that Birdie came into our familie’s life. It was a Monday morning and my dad had written on the kitchen chalk board “Congratulations—You have a brand new baby brother—Donald Paul Pumphrey”. I was met in the kitchen by a woman I had been introduced to a couple of weeks before. Her name was Georgianna Bird, she went by Birdie. She became our…

One of the many joys of growing up in Belmont, was that a 10 year old Mark could walk four blocks to the corner of Yorktown and Horseshoe, and ride a bus all the way downtown, for a dime. I suspect I did this dozens of times, as the YMCA was on the corner of 8th and Main, just over the 8th Street bridge. Tonight I am remembering one particular outing that was prompted by the song “Silver Bells”. It was probably the first Saturday of Christmas break and I decided to go ‘downtown’ by myself. It was an overcast…

This is the year that we sold our fake tree, tons of lights, assorted snow men and whatever we could pass off as no longer being used. It’s “Christmas light” at the Pumphreys. Our house is now adorned with a small nativity, an18 inch fake tree, an ornament hanger that has seven of our most beautiful orbs and the tree featured in the photo. I grew up in a home that was iconic in it Christmas warmth. Of course, living in a large Cape Cod style home where knotty pine and a fireplace framed every scene, helped. My parents had…

I am not much of a shopper. Actually, my approach to shopping is more like going hunting: go get it, bag it, get out. It took me two minutes to buy my “Rollater” on Amazon. Red or blue was the only question. Two days later there it was. Recently, a good friend, who also grew up in Pueblo, sent me a piece of nostalgia—see the photo—an old add promoting Halloween items at the Pueblo Duckwalls. For those of you who have never heard of Duckwalls, think Five and Dime, or in today’s world, The Dollar Store. Growing up in Belmont…

About a week ago the meteorologists who occupy our various news stations, began the “Get ready its coming”—hype. Every day the drumroll for the possibility of something very normal happening inflates every news broadcast. I have a suspicion that what raises their ratings, is raising our anxiety over “when will it come, how much will it be”? I do appreciate a bit of a heads up, as I make whatever plans occupy my underutilized ‘weekly dance card’. Then… let it snow… or not. I have been doing a lot of what I remember my own parents doing… remembering events from…

I have a confession to make. Today as I was making my usual Saturday morning drive to downtown Denver for a weekly meeting, I went channel surfing on Sirius. That is nothing egregious, however, my eye was caught by “Holiday Traditions” and I went for the bait. Mind you, I am the guy who goes on my personal rants when I go to Sam’s and I see Christmas trees, lights, etc., in early October. My rule has been: no Christmas music until after Thanksgiving. I am not sure what came over me but I thought surely they can’t be playing…

I am remembering a Pumphrey family ritual that took place the last week of October. The whole family would head out to the farming area east of Pueblo. It was time to pick out our family pumpkin, which would be transformed into a Jack-o’-lantern on our dining room table. This ritual was sort of a warm up for when we all went to find our yearly Christmas tree. There were dozens of truck farms along the old Highway 96. Each sold fall produce. In Pueblo at that time, you would never consider buying your prize pumpkin from Safeway. We got…

I just spent three days at the YMCA Camp of the Rockies in Estes Park, Colorado. To be there during the “Rut” in a place where Elk are more abundant that chipmunks, provides continuous entertainment. The picture I am sharing with you comes from a moment I had with the largest bull I have ever seen. There are lots of words that have been used to describe Elk—majestic, HUGE, resilient, sleek, powerful, adaptable— just to throw out a few. Elk, before the arrival of Europeans, were a plains animal. There are descriptions of Elk herds 200 years ago, where they…

Two days ago I became a “Great—Grandpa” for the first time. Now I always knew that I was great, this just confirmed it. I will say, of all my roles that I have lived out, being a grandpa is my all time favorite. Mateo’s oldest kid, Michaela and her husband Craig, welcomed Zealan Mateo Roybal, 7 lb. 11 oz., into the world. The biggest debate in the Roybal house right now is whether or not he is a Forty—Niners fan or stays with the family cult of Broncos faithful. Oh yes, there is one Great—Grandma who somehow loves the Chiefs.…

The aging process sucks. I will reach for a word and somehow it is misplaced. If I wait a few moments, often my unconscious mind will dig through my synapses and find the name I had on the tip of my tongue. Most recently I was trying to remember the famous old Alabama football coach. I confess I had to resort to Google. Of course it was Bear Bryant—that one got buried under a huge pile of things I used to know. Now I want to tell you about my missing cane. I suppose the hard part begins with having…

I was in the 8th grade when my mom came home from her Friday self-care day. She got her hair fixed every Friday at Crews-Beggs, which was the classic four story department store in downtown Pueblo. If you have ever watched the movie ‘Christmas Story’, the setting for the visit to Santa is its twin. Each floor of the business provided Pueblo with the finest opportunities of retail delight. There was no such thing as Walmart. Mom presented me with two pair of corduroy Levis. One pair was a nice tan and the other was powder blue. She said, “The…

I admit I am a Baby-boomer Face-Booker. My participation in that world has provided me numerous connections and reconnects. Simply, the pluses far outweigh the minuses. Tomorrow when this blog posts, I will share it on Facebook. Every Sunday one of my first loyal readers has been my long time friend, Denny Shirm. This last week there was no Denny. On Monday morning a post went up that Denny had died on Sunday. One of the realities of life in my 70’s is that the passing of long time friends comes much more frequently. It is my privilege to honor…

So last week I shared stories from my life in second grade. It opened the memory box of times with Miss. Hale. The story I am sharing falls in the category of a confession. I don’t think, when I did my 4th and 5th steps with my AA sponsor, that this ever made my list. So you folks get to hear one of the greatest scams a seven year old ever pulled off. I was home sick with some kind of stomach bug. I missed Monday with Miss Hale and spent the day reading books. There was no parents calling…

The first day of school was always a time of great excitement sprinkled with a bit of low—grade fear. There was the pride of having a new “Big Chief” tablet and perhaps some new jeans and tennis shoes, and the smell of the class room and meeting a new teacher and classmates. It was my first day of 2nd grade. I had no more than taken my seat when some important adult came and told me I was in the wrong class. I remember saying “But my name is on the list in the window”. “No, you are supposed to…

On August 18, 1984, Mary Kay and I brought together four kids, two cats and our dog Smiley, to begin 40 years of marriage. Today I want to give an honest thanks to this journey we have shared. When two people start a marriage with just the two of them they create a dyad (I was a sociology major). When a captive audience (the kids) are added, the complexities of human interactions grow exponentially. There were many skeptics about the wisdom of this undertaking… for good reason. I do remember early on some well meaning cheerleader said to us “How…

I am just finishing day 14 of my 2024 Olympic binge watching. I truly can not get enough. Currently I am watching … believe it or not… Break Dancing. Yes, a demonstration sport, and I am totally amazed at what I am seeing. Heck, if Curling can get one to the Gold Medal stand, why not dancers spinning on their heads? I will give it up to the French, they have put on a spectacular Olympics. There is something so refreshing about watching these athletes put themselves out there in ways that defy gravity or human limitations. Not 30 minutes…

When we moved out to the west end of the metroplex, I soon began to realize that this was as close as I would ever come to living in the mountains. In seven minutes I can be in Coal Creek Canyon, and pushing right into the heart of the Rockies. Exploring my surroundings has taken on the ‘ahh factor’ that people spend thousands of dollars and drive lots of miles to enjoy. In forty minutes I can be in the quirky burg of Nederland. Nederland is an old mining town that has now become a landing place for artists, hippies…

I am writing this a day late. I want to blame it on the weather. Well, that’s in part the case. The real reason is poor planning, and the realities of trying to do too many things. I had set aside two hours on Saturday evening and then I got to spend time with daughter Amy and granddaughter Zoe in their “new home”. Zoe had just finished her third church camp of the summer and was going though “post camp blues”. We had a great time listening to the two of them. As we were preparing to leave, Zoe said…

I have invented the word that describes my current state of being. I am conflicted. I don’t want to sound ungrateful, or go full—on curmudgeon. Today I was able to drive 22 miles each way to go to an “in person” 12-step meeting. I need people. For most of my life I have lived in the midst of a swirl of living breathing folk. As a result of the massive paradigm shift that the Covid pandemic brought to the whole world, and my full—on retirement a year ago, I find myself often spending a lot of time alone. I do…

In ninth grade we had to run a mile in under eight minutes to get an A in Gym. That meant four laps around a 440 yard track. I remember vividly staying with the pack of reasonably fit classmates. Then came the forth lap. Mr. Clay shouted out “You are about six seconds off the pace”. That does not seem like much until you try to make it up. My lungs began to burn and the possibility of not making it in eight minutes loomed. He met a group of us at the halfway point and said, “Keep it up…

Two days ago I took my first real shower in a month. By real I mean—I got to stand underneath a perfectly nice warm shower and put on peppermint shower gel. Whatever they call a shower in the hospital, is not. It’s sort of like a partial “hose down” while you sit in a chair. I have a long list of why I love being home — none of which could have happened without MK. Here are some of the perks of “Home Sweet Home”—my power chair, which sits at the center of ‘control central’ and in its place, the…

I am writing this 12 days before my seventy-fifth birthday. I have reasonable confidence that I will be there for this turn in to my own run at a century. Three weeks ago today I was admitted to “Good Sam” as it is nicknamed by the hospital personnel who work there. To say I got to the emergency room “just in time” might not be an exaggeration. I was fortunate that the ER Doc got me started in the right direction with the right antibiotics. By that evening I found out that I had sepsis originating from my left foot.…

Yesterday I drove out to Cherry Creek State Park. I love taking that drive through neighborhoods and back roads. In doing so I go by a number of schools. Quite a few grade schools, a middle school and one high school. All of them had signs celebrating the last day of school. On my return I was given the treat of watching kids pour out of a grade school where joy filled the air. I was transported back to that incredible feeling of freedom. Three months of swimming pools, bike riding, playing until dark, and in my home growing up,…

I heard my first Meadowlark this week. The call took me through seven decades of remembering their most distinctive eight note song. My parents built a house in 1955 on the very edge of the high desert prairie on the east edge of Pueblo. My back yard went all the way to Kansas. It remained that way for seven years. Then, new houses began to erase this world that was filled with: lizards, rabbits, snakes, and tarantulas, to name a few. On any summer morning our backyard fence would become a perch for those yellow breasted opera singers. I have…

There is a new family in our neighborhood. We moved “Out Here” in 2017, and now live on the far edge of the metro area. To our east is Standley Lake, a beautiful large lake completely surrounded by open space. I often drive by it twice a day… it never disappoints. There are many routes that bring me to this enclave called Whisper Creek. I jokingly say if Walt Disney designed a suburb, I live in it—clean, sculpted, efficient and very close to nature in every direction. My favorite route home is the longest way. I go north and drive…

Sometime after the end of WWII, a very generous Doctor donated his three story mansion on the corner of 13th St and York, to a fledgling group of Alcoholics Anonymous. The purpose was to create a home base where alcoholics could gather to get and stay well. Nearly 78 years later its presence is felt 18 hours a day—everyday . Today I went to a memorial service there for a physician who sobered up August 16, 1987. I beat him by 15 days as my AA birthday is August 1, 1987. On the second floor of that grand old mansion,…

“Bumper Karts at Costco” The emergence of the GIANT MEGA SUPER STORE shopping experience has lowered prices, created gross over buying, and raised the stress of “going shopping” to a level of low-grade combat. Last Saturday I made the mistake of thinking I could “stop by” Costco to pick up a few things. After circling the parking lot twice, MK suggested that we punt. Then a parking spot opened up—a blessing from the parking gods. The inside of the store was more chaotic than the outside. I loved the midway at the Colorado State Fair. I would head straight for…

Unpacking from a 45 day, 7,350 mile, 16 state and 13 bed road trip, requires more than doing laundry and hanging clothes back up. It’s the unpacking of the dozens of encounters, scenes, meals, Buc—Eees, and conversations I had along the way. There is one particular unexpected morning I can’t put away in a convenient memory box. We had driven nearly 800 miles from California to our half way point in Las Cruces, NM. We had two days to make it to Stephenville, Texas, where grandson Mattias was going to be part of his spring jazz concert honoring Duke Ellington.…

I have a date with my granddaughter Zoe tomorrow afternoon. This will involve no ice cream or chicken nuggets. We will not be watching a movie or going on a drive. We will be watching… The Masters fourth and final round on my ridiculous big screen in the basement. Zoe, to my surprise, went out for golf this year at Arvada West. Other than Mini Golf she had no prior golfing experiences. She told me her coach recruited her. Well, she loves it. I secretly laughed when she told me she thought it was great. “Wait until you have hit…

The exponential speed with which my world has moved, from my Rand McNally Atlas to an internal GPS in my 2020 BMW, sometimes boggles my mind. My car responds to my voice. I just say things like “BMW call my grandson Miko” or, “Find the nearest Starbucks” and presto—zingo I am on a phone call or I’m in dreaded drive through. I don’t know about you, but sometimes I feel like I am living out a Star Trek episode. Today I want to talk about my “way too smart GPS”. I call it a her because speaks to me in…

My Warbling Grandmother Opal—Easter Giggles Easter was a time in The Pumphrey Clan when we all descended to Colorado Springs where my grandparents lived. We would meet at First Christian Church there and occupy at least two pews. The hymns of Easter were very predictable. Lined up in the pew were seven kids as my baby brother Don was be cared for in the church nursery. A standard Easter hymn in Disciples world is “Up from the Grave He Arose”. My grandmother Opal, a preachers kid then in her 60s loved to sing. She warbled… a lot. We went from…

“But one day when you are old others will tie you up and escort you where you would not choose to go”—Jesus speaking to Peter in the 21st chapter of John. I have yet to be tied up, but once again, life is teaching me another lesson in humility. The root word for humility is “humus” (not the dip) but “of the earth”. In other words, to be brought down to the very essence of truth/reality. I remember when the American Disability Act was passed in 1990, I was 41 and I thought “Good for them”. Soon I began to…

You might notice that I did not write last week. I was not suffering from “writers block”, but rather just the opposite. I had too many things to chose from, so I chose none. We took off two weeks ago from California. In one day we went from Los Angels to Las Cruces, New Mexico. We managed to put a big crack in my almost new windshield out in the middle of Arizona. The next morning in the breakfast lobby of the Super 8 we were met with a bus load of migrants who were being moved from El Paso…

Leg #2 of our epic road trip has been10 days at our daughter Stephanie’s— the 50 year old mom of two kids under five. On Thursday we signed up for a snow day on Mt. Baldy. Mt Baldy is located about 1.5 hours outside of LA. All I knew about this outing is that Sofia was planning on making her own snowman with real snow. We loaded up two cars with enough “winter gear” for a Colorado blizzard and headed east out of LA. I had no idea what to expect. I had never driven to a “ski area” by…

Today we have moved from Las Vegas to Ranchos Palos Verdes, California. For the next ten days we will be hanging out in sunny-rainy Southern California with the Don Vitos. They come complete with Sofia and Connor. I call the kids the “Bonus Round” as they were a complete surprise. Today we went to the Chinese Lunar New Year Celebration at the South Coast Botanic Garden. Thank goodness we got there very early and I got a park bench way in the back. I am now beginning to understand why my parents, at these kinds of events, were more interested…

In 1953 I remember my dad and some helpers carrying in a new Crosley TV. Television had come to Pueblo. There was an antenna on top of our house and soon the world came to our living room in black and white. I think my earliest memory was my mom watching Tennessee Ernie Ford singing “16 Tons” while doing her ironing. This was the “Golden Age” of television. Most every Baby Boomer could list three dozen shows that shaped their lives. Wednesday night September 18, 1957 “Wagon Train” made its debut. For eight years and 284 episodes, much of America…

About 30 minutes ago I received the message that my dad’s only brother Paul, died after an amazing 98+ years. It is my privilege to share with you how my almost 75 years with him has help shape me. I was with him not a month ago, where once again, I was touched by a man of incredible brilliance, whose memory belied anything you could describe. From here on out he will be called PO, as that is how he was known for at least the last 65 years. This is not a eulogy, but rather a painful privilege honoring…

I will be hitting the pause button in the “hit parade of my vocational journey”, to go on a seven week trek. Starting in two weeks I will be hitting the road for an 8,000 mile car trip. I love to travel, however, if I never see the inside of Denver International Airport again, I will be happy. It was September of 2021 when I got on a jet to go to Salt Lake City. Somewhere along the way I contracted Covid. After 18 days in the hospital and a fly-by from the Angel of Death, my desire to sit…

Home and Youth Pastor at Mountair Christian Church In November of 1972 I headed back home to Colorado. Within a day I had not one, but two jobs. I was hired to be a Child Care worker at DaVita cottage at the Colorado Christian Home. “The Home” began in the early 1900’s as an orphanage, started by the Christian Churches of Colorado and Wyoming. I have very distinct memories of coming up from Pueblo to have Christmas parties with the kids living there. I went to college at Phillips University with a number of former residents of “The Home”. This…

I graduated in May of 1971 with a degree in sociology and history. I had no plans for my future. My draft lottery number was 350 so I missed that “opportunity”. I was working at the ambulance service when I heard that there was a social worker position open at the Enid State School. I will try to briefly describe what that institution was like. It’s important to recognize how far we have come in the last 50 years, in the worlds of developmental disabilities and mental health. Enid State School sat on a square mile of prime farmland just…

My longtime administrative secretary at South Broadway had a collection of sayings and metaphors that were straight out of her homeland (Nebraska). Chris Vitt, who just retired after 26 years of serving in the trenches of “life behind the curtain” of church life, had a way of putting things into perspective. Currently it is minus 6 degrees at 5 in the afternoon on Saturday. As I look out into the dusk of frozen tundra, I can hear Chris’s voice saying “It is colder than Billy Hill”. I would ask “Just where is Billy Hill”? She would reply with exactly the…

Well, after a three week hiatus I am back. I will pick up writing about my vocational journey after the first of the year, but today I want to honor the brief but beautiful life of my youngest brother, Don. Yesterday on December 22nd, he would have been 65 years old. He only made it to 20. Don was killed in an automobile accident on St. Patrick’s Day 1979. I will skip the tragic details. I was nine years old when Don was born. I’ll never forget going downstairs from my bedroom to find a message written on the dining…

My first experience selling at people’s door steps came in the late 50’s and early 60’s. We were blessed in Pueblo with a great YMCA summer camp in the Greenhorn Mountains, SW of Pueblo, called Camp Crockett. It was a kid’s paradise where everyday you could ride horseback, shoot 22 caliber rifles, practice archery, take hikes, make leather comb cases and be free of parental influence. Every April 100’s of kids would sign up to sell Duran Thin Mints door-to-door throughout Pueblo. My dad was a master salesman and he made sure that we followed in his footsteps. Where I…

I had been working for about two months at my ambulance job when I got a phone call from Tom Poole, who was the business manager at Phillips U. He asked me if I could come in and see him, giving no indication of what he wanted. My mind went to ‘I was in trouble for something’. I was in charge of bringing all the entertainment to Phillips in my job on the Student Senate. I suspected that he was going to ask me to stay within budget, which was $25,000 for the year. Bringing talent was always a crap…

Shortly after I turned 21 in 1970, a college friend went to work at the local ambulance service. I remember thinking, “What would Rick know about saving people’s lives”? Enid Ambulance service provided all the ambulance work for three hospitals and a handful of mortuaries. It was staffed by firefighters on their days off and college students from Phillips U. One day after a conversation with Rick about his ambulance work, I casually asked, “Are they hiring”? “Actually Mark, one of the fireman is retiring next week and the owner asked me to look around for his replacement”. Well, I…

I am back to reflecting on the long list of jobs that have both paid me and shaped me. I could probably also make a list of all the things I said I would never do, that I ended up doing. After my stint of making piston in 1968, I swore I would never spend another day on an assembly line. I was also never going to: work in the local church, have anything to do with dead people, quit drinking, live in the country, live in the suburbs, run a marathon, become vegan and write a blog. Those are…

Pardon the change of plans, but you will have to wait to hear about my life on the GM assembly line in1969. Today I am going back to 1953 and my Fourth Birthday. I was born on July 2nd and so I believed that the July 4th holiday was for me. Somewhere in my archives of 8mm movies, there is a five minute segment of my best birthday party ever—a FIRECRACKER themed backyard celebration. I had a firecracker cake, two blowup wading pools and about 20 kids running around on a gleeful sugar high. That day I received one of…

Welcome to my second job. I came home from my freshman year of college. It was good to be back to Colorado but I soon became aware that I had changed a whole lot more than Pueblo had. I left Pueblo a proud member of the Young Republicans, and returned after a year of an incredible education at Phillips U., and the ongoing turmoil of the Viet Nam War. I had a student deferment, while many of my East High classmates found themselves in the midst of rice paddies and gunfire. I was driving a 1956 Oldsmobile that I had…

For the next few weeks I will be taking my readers on a chronological 60–year journey on the jobs I have held. Perhaps this is a result of my four months of full retirement and my reflections on all of the various ways I have made money. I hope not to bore you with the meanderings of a geezer, but rather, to give you a glimpse into the varieties of jobs I worked, and what they taught me about life. Here is the list of what I will be sharing in the next weeks: 1964-67–Indentured Servitude at Cleaver Carpet Center…

I have become a dedicated lap swimmer. Currently we are at our place at the Wyndham Resorts in Pagosa Springs, CO. It truly is a home away from home, only five hours away from Arvada. This particular resort has a great amenity called the Community Recreation Center. They have a wonderful swimming pool that I am able to use as part of our stay. Each day you must sign up for a time and a lane. Today I got my favorite lane (8) at the 8am start. It’s pretty simple—you sign up for a lane and you get it for…

Two years ago today I lay flat on my back, completely immobile. I found myself at the Kaiser Health acute Covid unit. I had been double vaccinated and had exercised reasonable levels of caution. I was very sick. Maybe only recently have I grasped just how sick I was. No, I was never on a ventilator, or in a coma, but I was sick, real sick. I will skip the gooey details but suffice to say I was completely incapacitated. I have very distinct memories about the whole journey. I remember being cared for by an amazing team of care…

In 1955 my parents took their three kids to see a big hole in the ground. This is where our new house was being built. It was on a very long block at the top of a hill. It was in a classic post WWII housing development. New homes, new schools, new almost everything. I do remember that it was hard for a six year old Mark to comprehend that the hole could become a house. There were many trips in the family station wagon to visit the progress of the building. I was given a very special job. Because…

My mom Pat was a pretty amazing cook. I really did not know how great she was until I left home. Whether it was cooking meatballs from scratch or homemade chicken and noodles, the food was amazing. Once we had a foreign exchange student stay with us on a cross country trek back to NYC, where, he and 800 students would return to Europe after a year in the USA. His name was Tony and he was from Milan. My mom dared to make her homemade spaghetti and meatballs and soda cracker peach pie for his goodbye dinner. “Mrs. Pumphrey…

The first time I remember playing volleyball was at the YMCA Camp Crockett. The scene was something like this—an open meadow with a net strung between two pine tree poles. On each side of the net were probably 15 boys with a couple of adult counselors. The volleyball, if it ever made it from one side to another, was hit in whatever method possible. We had to step over small rocks, road apples and cow pies. It was great fun. It seems that every camp I went to, whether it be The Y, Boy Scouts, or church, had some form…

I have been told that people enjoy lists so here is one from me. 10. The shift in the feel of the air that shows up around August 23. Everything moves from Summer’s heat to a crisp clean feel. Once it shifts the next three months move to Autumn. 9. The Colorado State Fair. Growing up in Pueblo, we were reminded often that we lived in Pew-town. Well, when late August hit we were the center of the state’s attention. Yes, I plan to go this year—cane and all. There is something reassuring about an entire barn full of bunnies.…

There is a new invasive species moving into Colorado. Rumors of its coming have been circulating for months. My first sighting of its arrival took place a few weeks ago. I am not sure why I still often look at the ‘plates’ on other cars. I find out-of-state plates a source of both curiosity and irritation—‘please feel free to visit but enjoy your ride home’. I am not a big fan of personalized plates, but I am a sucker for trying to figure out everything from the narcissistic gloats to secret codes. The arrival of the BLACK PLATE seemed like…

I just finished a 4,600 mile roadtrip which provided more than a few blog ideas. I had settled on writing about my second “fast food” encounter, and with a few hours of driving by miles and miles of cornfields, I was not lack for thinking time. All that ground to a halt when, on the final leg of the journey, I had that all too familiar feeling of my second Covid battle. I guess spending five days with a few thousand of my closest friends set up the Petri dish of viral abundance. I immediately got on the phone with…

It’s not that I am “anti-sugar”, I can still be very tempted by the pastry rack at Starbucks. However, I do my best to stay far away from refined sugar, which is both a discipline of 23 years of Type 2 diabetes, and a desire to maintain a healthy body weight. For the last few days I have been visiting in the South. I am always confused when I order iced tea and I am asked “Do you want sweet tea?” If I wanted sugar in my tea I would put it in. More than once I ordered Iced Tea…

” One of my simple pleasures is being the first person in the morning to go lap swimming in our HOA pool. There is something very serene about being alone in the pool, where not even a ripple shows. On a morning after a nice Colorado thunderstorm the water in the pool seems even more inviting. I started lap swimming about four years ago. Except for my two month battle to survive Covid, and prat fall this winter, I have maintained a pretty vigorous daily swimming routine. In fact, on July 4th I swam 84 laps to remind myself that…

I am a planner. I can tell you that Christmas Eve this year will be on a Sunday without looking at a calendar. I am already thinking about next summer when this one is just getting started. This can be a great gift, an irritation to those I share life with, or a setup for getting way out over my skis. In ‘Retirement # Two’ I am trying to wake up each day and see what happens. This does not preclude more long range possibilities. Yesterday was a moment where the day came to me. Grandson Mattias has a friend…

I am not much of a procrastinator unless I want to be. Over the years with six moves since 2009, I have collected a number of various sized ‘totes’ with the historical record of my life. In them are everything from year books, hundreds of photos, valentines from the 5th grade and every paper I wrote while working on my doctorate. That’s just a small representative sample. All of these totes ended up at our house in Arvada over five years ago. I added to the collection when I shut down my office in Greeley. MK, who never has been…

“Reunions” I admit I have a bit of jealousy when I see a group of 50+ people parading through Estes Park, all wearing lime green tee shirts. Embossed on them in bold letters and cool cheesy graphics something like “Baker Family Reunion 2023”. My family used to have a yearly “Pumphrey Pigout”. The last one about 13 years ago, was the unintended “Grand Finale”. It was epic. My young cousin Clint out—did himself—yes with T—shirts. This yearly blowout just faded away. My sister Rita and I were reminiscing about Pigouts of days gone by. There was the one where a…

George Winston, a prolific pianist/composer died this past week. We were the same age. How our family became familiar with him is a story within a story. It was 1987 and by a set of circumstances, we welcomed a foreign exchange student from Japan for the summer. This took some quick maneuvering as one of the requirements was, they were to have their own bedroom. Mateo, who possessed the only private room in the house, willingly offered up his space, perhaps to bring in some male reinforcement against three sisters. Tatsonori Horiyama, from Japan, became a member of our household…

Blame it on Baskin Robbins I am sure that having way too many choices began in my favorite ice cream store as a teenager. I suspect you have all had the experience of waiting behind three teenagers who had to try 11 flavors with the little spoon, before they settled in on Triple Chocolate Banana Walnut Fudge Ripple. Sometimes over—choice is no choice at all. I yearn for the TV days of three networks. Now on my cable TV, I have 600–some choices and I use only about five. Probably once a week, a family member or friend will say,…

I think the “takeover” began about 30 years ago when a call would be made to some business and instead of talking to a person, you were given the option of pressing a certain button for a desired outcome. There were the automatic car washes and sci-fi stories about robots taking over. Blame it on the Jetsons. The appeal has been having machines save us work, and if you are building corporate profits, “why pay a person when a machine can do it cheaper”? I am not trying to claim some moral high ground, heck—I love the connivence of pushing…