I work in "downtown" St George and I was walking to lunch the other day and, if you are from St George you will remember this, the Noon bell went off. If you grew up here you will remember the bell going off everyday at exactly high noon. You always knew it was noon as a kid because of the noon time bell.
I don't know if it is a real bell, I don't know if someone rings it or it is automatic, I don't know even where it is. All I know is when I was growing up if I was golfing during summer at Red Hills Golf Course I could hear it and if I was in my back yard in Morningside Park I could hear it. And for some reason, I don't think I have heard it, at least I have not noticed it, for 15 years.
What a flood of memories hit me as I heard that bell the other day. I thought about how much St George has changed, not just in population numbers either. But it is still a nice place and I love to live here.
Later that same day I was mowing my apartment where I have a very nice family from Mexico living. I was out and it was maybe 105 degrees out and I am sweating like no tomorrow mowing this lawn. Well, Gerardo comes out and we spoke for a minute and then he is watching me and, maybe this is a racist thought but I had it, I thought how ironic that this gentleman from Mexico was watching me mow his lawn, a reversal of the stereotypical Mexican mowing the lawn. I was glad that I was doing this, even though I own the place, I wanted everyone to see me, this pasty white guy, mowing the lawn of this Mexican gentleman while he watched me and tugged on a cigarette in a lawn chair.
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9 comments:
when i think of the typical guy mowing a lawn i think of jeff gardner or ryan anderson. i remember the "bell" but it was a siren from the po po station, no? i don't remember a big bell. i always pictured a policeman sitting out in his car flicking a button with a little grin on his face, sending out his po-lice love to the masses.
I think the bell is from the fire station across the street from the Pizza Factory. But it seems like when we were younger it was somewhere around the sunbowl. Didnt there used to be a fire station across the street from the sunbowl, on floodstreet? I think there was.
Josh, I don't remember a fire station across from the sunbowl, maybe... by the Lion's Club place?
J, it is funny you think of Jeff and Ryno because Ryno does not even leave his truck all day. He sits in that thing with a Vat of Coke products and tells his workers what to do via his cell phone and then takes customers and potential customers to lunch. His truck is a disaster area with wrappers and crap all over, it looks like he lives in the thing. His lead "worker" that actually lifts a shovel is named "Nacho".
He and his partner were telling us how gringos don't last more than 1 day on the job. In their 5+ years they have had dozens of gringos hired and only 2 have made it past a week and one was a woman.
what!? a WOMAN!? doing a man's job!? you expect me to believe that!!??!!
i know nacho, he lives in the ham radio house on main.
I know, it's crazy. I hardly believe it myself.
If she was the girl I saw the other day. Good for her.
Story: I was driving through Stonebridge where Landtrends manages the landscaping... and a girl employee was fixing the sprinklers. She was running back and forth from one sprinkler to the next, getting all wet while doing so. I looked ahead a little further and saw two men in their golf cart stopped and enjoying the view. (side note: This girl was wearing short shorts and a white Landtrends t-shirt---remember that was all wet...and she was not bad to look at either)...so could you blame them? Men will be men right...can't pass up a golf game or a wet t-shirt contest. And these guys got both in the same day. Nice!
wait so ryan hired a sexy lady to stare at from his truck? someone should tell sarah.
I cant beleive how racist these comments are, Gringos work hard too! As for girls and yard care Diane could hang with the best of them and complained less then all of the workers i had on the payroll.
The noon bell is a great idea, I go to this little town in CA called Bishop and every day the loudest bomb siren you have ever heard goes off at noon. It lets the Gringos know its lunch time.
on a different note,
isn't is funny how a sound (or smell or taste) can take you on a jog down memory lane?
I have had several jogs (runs, sprints) down memory lane since being back in good ol' logan.
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