I have already started practicing the 8-clap with Aurora and she likes it. Carrie likes it, too (ok, 1 out of 2 isn't bad). I can't wait for the season to start. Good job Adam. Welcome to the family
ok, this may make me the biggest loser on the face of the earth for asking such a question, but here it goes anyway... what in the world is The 8-Clap? I can't believe I've been married into the family for 9+ years now and still there are mysteries like this that creep up on me. Someone... please fill me in before I make myself look like a fool even more! ;)
Stephanie, dear sweet stephanie, that is a question you ask Dale in private so the rest of us can remain blissfully unaware of your sins. The 8-clap is a chant that Bruin fans do, and if you are watching the game in the stadium it is usually led by an older gentleman decked out in Bruins gear. In the case of Lisonbee's and friends who watch the game on Mom and Dad's big screen, it is usually led by a crazed and die hard Bruin fan who's about 6 ft tall, mid 20's, dark hair and dark eyes with a last name that rhymes with risonbee. It goes something like...everyone do it with me now...And a 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, U (clap clap clap), C (clap clap clap), L (clap clap clap), A (clap clap clap), U-C-L-A FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT!
PS I am holding Dale responsible for Stephanie's 8-clap ignorance.
lolol I can only imagine the sight of Mark doing that! lol He's so funny with his sports enthusiasm. Wish I could've been there in person for all those 8-clap chants... sounds like fun. :) Thanks Court!
OK. Here's the deal. Steph did not know what an 8-clap is because I have spared her the torture. Sorry Steph. You married the one person in the family that Dad successfully corrupted into absolutely hating UCLA football. (By the way dad, no real objections on my part. I feel no loss whatsoever at hating them.) That's right, I hate it. I hate watching the games and go to great lengths to cheer for every other team besides UCLA (except for maybe USC which dad taught me to hate more). Carrie, I absolutely will be cheering for BYU when the two teams play. Now, you may wonder why I hate UCLA and how I was so successfully corrupted. Well, here it goes - uphill both ways, snow 6 feet high, etc. Before the days when we had cars that actually work (or at least 1 car that actually works) I used to have the pleasure of spending my Saturdays in the heat of the Valencia sun watching (I mean helping) dad work on cars, digging trenches, planting trees, pulling weeds, etc. (Now, if any of you who married into the family hear from my siblings that they were out there too, watch the noses grow as they say it and repeat after me "OK Pinocchio" if they say they were out there more than 10% of the time. I say this not out of a suppressed desire for a "Victim moment" but so that you understand that my corruption (or enlightenment) as the only UCLA hater stems from my near exclusive privilege of those experiences. Rather than being there to "help", I think I was there as an effort to make sure the language heard by the neighbors was at least moderately controlled (Just kidding dad) as dad worked on the cars, etc.. Well, as you all may know, Dad is an ASU fan. On RARE occasions, we would listen to the football games on his AM radio (you know the black one with a leather case that was invented before digital tuning was thought of). So, in the sweltering heat we would occasionally catch a UCLA/ASU game. (Sometimes, these would even be happening at night after we had almost expired from hyperthermia during the day. On these occasions, I would be holding the light like the Statue of Liberty while we worked on the ridiculous cars.) Anyway, I distinctly remember one late Saturday night out in front of the house. What can I say other than ASU got bumped out of the rose bowl. I can't remember if UCLA did it or someone else did it and UCLA went to the rose bowl or what. That was just one of many examples. So, if you were out in the sun all day, dehydrated as all get out, hallucinating and hearing things, trying to fix the car that couldn't be fixed, planting trees so the gophers could eat the roots, and remembering that UCLA was the thing that made dad even madder than normal while working on cars, etc., you would hate them too and spare your spouse the torture of the 8-clap cheering on your torturer.
Wow Dale...talk about anger issues. I definitely laughed when I read your comments. Guess what? I admit it. I was never out there. I freaking hate gardening to this day. I don't like the heat, I don't like dirt and I sure as heck don't like shovels. Well, lucky me. I have a backyard of complete dirt that I have to landscape. We've come full circle. Now I'm going to stay inside and let Rick and the kids learn the value of hard work!
Dale, I am going to have to respectfully disagree. I think Dad will vouch for many a Saturdays where I was up early and stayed out past dark holding the ghetto light while we changed brakes, alternators, fuel pumps, clutches, pulled weeds, planted trees and of course the never ending Satruday chore, building the addition. Just so you don't think that I am making it up, I vividly remember "helping" Dad change the brakes and rotate the tires before family vacations not to mention the countless experiences painting the Canyon Country house too many times to remember, re-roofing, changing multiple disposals, ripping up and laying new lineolium (before Seminary one morning) etc. I am sure that you flew solo for a number of years, but I didn't go surfing at 5 am on Saturdays because I liked waking up early, I went because Dad wanted me home by 9 to "help." P.S. I forgive you for hating UCLA. Though I don't hate UCLA, I am ashamed to admit that I have cheered for USC in recent years against any non-Pac 10 school. The Pac gets zero respect out here.
Yeah, as I was writing my email I think I was thinking about how you probably shared some of the same wonderful experiences after I left for BYU (which admittedly gave you some good years of fun by yourself too). Did you find that it was usually just you? In all seriousness, I hope it doesn't sound like I'm bitter. It was comical at times and it built lots of character.
9 comments:
I can't wait to see Justin do the 8-clap with our newborn son. Now that's worth a :)!
I have already started practicing the 8-clap with Aurora and she likes it. Carrie likes it, too (ok, 1 out of 2 isn't bad). I can't wait for the season to start. Good job Adam. Welcome to the family
ok, this may make me the biggest loser on the face of the earth for asking such a question, but here it goes anyway... what in the world is The 8-Clap? I can't believe I've been married into the family for 9+ years now and still there are mysteries like this that creep up on me. Someone... please fill me in before I make myself look like a fool even more! ;)
Stephanie, dear sweet stephanie, that is a question you ask Dale in private so the rest of us can remain blissfully unaware of your sins. The 8-clap is a chant that Bruin fans do, and if you are watching the game in the stadium it is usually led by an older gentleman decked out in Bruins gear. In the case of Lisonbee's and friends who watch the game on Mom and Dad's big screen, it is usually led by a crazed and die hard Bruin fan who's about 6 ft tall, mid 20's, dark hair and dark eyes with a last name that rhymes with risonbee. It goes something like...everyone do it with me now...And a 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, U (clap clap clap), C (clap clap clap), L (clap clap clap), A (clap clap clap), U-C-L-A FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT!
PS I am holding Dale responsible for Stephanie's 8-clap ignorance.
lolol I can only imagine the sight of Mark doing that! lol He's so funny with his sports enthusiasm. Wish I could've been there in person for all those 8-clap chants... sounds like fun. :) Thanks Court!
OK. Here's the deal. Steph did not know what an 8-clap is because I have spared her the torture. Sorry Steph. You married the one person in the family that Dad successfully corrupted into absolutely hating UCLA football. (By the way dad, no real objections on my part. I feel no loss whatsoever at hating them.) That's right, I hate it. I hate watching the games and go to great lengths to cheer for every other team besides UCLA (except for maybe USC which dad taught me to hate more). Carrie, I absolutely will be cheering for BYU when the two teams play. Now, you may wonder why I hate UCLA and how I was so successfully corrupted. Well, here it goes - uphill both ways, snow 6 feet high, etc. Before the days when we had cars that actually work (or at least 1 car that actually works) I used to have the pleasure of spending my Saturdays in the heat of the Valencia sun watching (I mean helping) dad work on cars, digging trenches, planting trees, pulling weeds, etc. (Now, if any of you who married into the family hear from my siblings that they were out there too, watch the noses grow as they say it and repeat after me "OK Pinocchio" if they say they were out there more than 10% of the time. I say this not out of a suppressed desire for a "Victim moment" but so that you understand that my corruption (or enlightenment) as the only UCLA hater stems from my near exclusive privilege of those experiences. Rather than being there to "help", I think I was there as an effort to make sure the language heard by the neighbors was at least moderately controlled (Just kidding dad) as dad worked on the cars, etc.. Well, as you all may know, Dad is an ASU fan. On RARE occasions, we would listen to the football games on his AM radio (you know the black one with a leather case that was invented before digital tuning was thought of). So, in the sweltering heat we would occasionally catch a UCLA/ASU game. (Sometimes, these would even be happening at night after we had almost expired from hyperthermia during the day. On these occasions, I would be holding the light like the Statue of Liberty while we worked on the ridiculous cars.) Anyway, I distinctly remember one late Saturday night out in front of the house. What can I say other than ASU got bumped out of the rose bowl. I can't remember if UCLA did it or someone else did it and UCLA went to the rose bowl or what. That was just one of many examples. So, if you were out in the sun all day, dehydrated as all get out, hallucinating and hearing things, trying to fix the car that couldn't be fixed, planting trees so the gophers could eat the roots, and remembering that UCLA was the thing that made dad even madder than normal while working on cars, etc., you would hate them too and spare your spouse the torture of the 8-clap cheering on your torturer.
Wow Dale...talk about anger issues. I definitely laughed when I read your comments. Guess what? I admit it. I was never out there. I freaking hate gardening to this day. I don't like the heat, I don't like dirt and I sure as heck don't like shovels. Well, lucky me. I have a backyard of complete dirt that I have to landscape. We've come full circle. Now I'm going to stay inside and let Rick and the kids learn the value of hard work!
Dale, I am going to have to respectfully disagree. I think Dad will vouch for many a Saturdays where I was up early and stayed out past dark holding the ghetto light while we changed brakes, alternators, fuel pumps, clutches, pulled weeds, planted trees and of course the never ending Satruday chore, building the addition.
Just so you don't think that I am making it up, I vividly remember "helping" Dad change the brakes and rotate the tires before family vacations not to mention the countless experiences painting the Canyon Country house too many times to remember, re-roofing, changing multiple disposals, ripping up and laying new lineolium (before Seminary one morning) etc.
I am sure that you flew solo for a number of years, but I didn't go surfing at 5 am on Saturdays because I liked waking up early, I went because Dad wanted me home by 9 to "help."
P.S. I forgive you for hating UCLA. Though I don't hate UCLA, I am ashamed to admit that I have cheered for USC in recent years against any non-Pac 10 school. The Pac gets zero respect out here.
Yeah, as I was writing my email I think I was thinking about how you probably shared some of the same wonderful experiences after I left for BYU (which admittedly gave you some good years of fun by yourself too). Did you find that it was usually just you? In all seriousness, I hope it doesn't sound like I'm bitter. It was comical at times and it built lots of character.
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