Monday, July 26, 2010

Flashbacks on a FisherPrice Record Player


Haven't quite figured out how it all shook down. Tyler was in the family room watching television when I hear, "How long has that been on the shelf?"

"What?" I respond.

"The record player." Now he's come into the kitchen area where his mom and I are sitting. I'm stumped because I can't think of a record player on a shelf in the family room. There's a whole shelf full of records, but there's no record player.

"I don't think there's a record player in there."

"Yes there is. On the shelf in the playroom."

OK. Well, don't ask me how Tyler could be watching TV in the family room and notice something on the shelf in the playroom. It's not totally impossible, I guess - just a little anatomically uncomfortable. Anyhow, he wonders if they can play with it. Sure.

Well, there's no fun to be had with a record player if there are no records. So Tyler brought the stack of kids' records in with the player. Most of them are the Disney stories where you can follow along while the record reads the story, breaking randomly for intermittent songs. Then I see The Record. I mean, Theeeeeee Record.

I can't tell you how many times I listened to this record when I was little. Actually there was this one and a Peter, Paul and Mary record that were my favorites. I would play them over and over and make up silly little dances with all kinds of extemporaneous hand movements and belt out the words at the top of my lungs {I had aspirations of being the next Geritol Woman on Lawrence Welk}.  One of my most favorite songs on this particular record was, "Open Up Your Heart and Let the Sunshine In". Krisy and Nate were delighted that I was willing to share it with them Sunday night. Sorry I couldn't remember all of the words to lip sync more perfectly and I wasn't willing to get off my chair and do the dance but a good share of the visuals were there.

So, what do you think? Isn't it just the cutest little simplistic song ever??? Totally politically incorrect in today's world, I know. But it's all about doing what you need to do to keep the devil out of your life and as far as the song writer is concerned, that is to smile. Well . . . that leads me to these cute little ant traps. A vendor had these traps at the IFA Trade Show we went to in Jackson Hole a few weeks ago.


 If I start at the beginning, my distaste for these little ants began a day or two after we moved into our first "Home" in Deseret. Everything was moved in and I'd been unpacking boxes. For some reason I had packed an unfinished afghan around some food items - one of which happened to be a bottle of honey. Between the heat and getting jostled from place to place, the bottle of honey had leaked onto the afghan. I unpacked everything else and left the afghan on the kitchen counter, along with the bottle of honey. I didn't see anything wrong with dealing with it another day.

Next morning, I saw what was wrong with the previous day's thought process. There was a trail of itty bitty black ants around the base of the cupboard, up the front of the cupboard, around the edge of the counter and then into every bit of honey that was accessible - on the bottle and the afghan. I was disgusted. Then I got mad at Alan because he called them "Piss" ants. I thought that was a bad word and he shouldn't be saying such things - especially because I was six months pregnant and, my goodness, he couldn't be talking like that once the baby was born! Thirty-three years later, I've come to the realization that "Piss" is a mild name for these little varmints as we have had them off and on since that day. They randomly invade our basement now. Alan says they're migrating. I say they should be smart enough to realize this chunk of ground has already been staked out and there is no room for them but I guess you can't be industrious AND smart.

So, back to these traps. To set them, you pull that little white plug out of the middle section. The theory is the ants are attracted to the liquid inside so they'll climb down the hole, get some of whatever chemical concoction that is in there on them, get bored because there's nothing solid to eat and no dirt to move, eventually climb out and head back to the Family Ant Hill, sharing this liquid with any other ant they come in contact with. Little do the ants know, the liquid is poisonous.  They may have had a fun little jaunt through a new, unchartered piece of territory. It may have been exhilarating to successfully find their way back out of the little hole. But they don't realize their little escapade may cause the destruction of their entire Ant Hill World as they know it. I'm not sold on these traps {Skeptic is my middle name} but . . . I firmly believe they were developed by some mad scientist who understands Satan's plan better than any of us.

All we have to do is go out into the world, collect a little bit of  'poison' [I'll leave it to you to name your own 'poison' here],  come back home with some of it still stuck on us and then we share it, either consciously or subconsciously, with everyone we come in contact with, not to mention other family members. We take it in the door and shake it off. I quickly developed a theory once Nathan started school, too. We were a fairly healthy family until that fateful day. And then it was like he went out amongst the germs, brought them home and shared them with all of us. We got colds and flues and what-nots from then on.

The scriptures are filled will just such examples and warnings for us. Just the other day, Joe reminded me of Amalickiah and how he deceitfully won power over the Lamanite armies and then took them to battle against the Nephites. He was so sure he would walk all over the Nephites but as his armies marched from city to city, they found each of them to be well fortified against any attacks from outside. The Nephites had listened to their prophet. They were living so as to be guided by personal revelation. They were doing what they could to keep Satan out. I'm sure they smiled just a little bit as they realized how awful, awful they made the Lamanite armies feel just by being where they were supposed to be and doing what they were supposed to be doing. And I'm assuming they checked all the incoming ants for any signs of worldly poison that could be used to weaken them once inside their city walls.

I need to be as conscientious in my own life. In my own house. Maybe I need to shower more often.


  1. That was a jazzy little tune. It was fun listening to it. I enjoyed your analogy of the ants and Satan and life. I should have read your blog before I enjoyed two cookies I didn't really need but, oh, they were so enticing and good tasting. Love you.

  2. Don't ever...I repeat, don't ever take on the bug world. They'll get their revenge.

    And the records I remember listening to are the Johnny Mathis ones and some Italian singer. A sad reminder that I'm old.