ne street and down the other. Old people told us we looked cute.

I tried to hide under a bus, but Dad kept me on the sidewalk.

Dad had hyped the

Vaudeville died when I was a kid.

I went to the last vaudeville show in our town. It was on the 4th of July.

The night before, my dad came home from work and opened this box which had two Uncle Sam suits. I headed for the door to escape to the back yard!

Dad caught me by the scuff of the neck: ”Where do you think you're going?”

“Goin’ out to play.”

“Here, let’s get this on you.” He helped me and my brother, D, get into the Uncle Sam suits. My little brother thought his was neat. I knew I looked like an idiot.

We walked the two miles to downtown Salt Lake City. Dad paraded us up one street and down the other. Old people told us we looked cute.

I tried to hide under a bus, but Dad kept me on the sidewalk.

Dad had hyped the

from work and opened this box which had two Uncle Sam suits. I headed for the door to escape to the back yard!

Dad caught me by the scuff of the neck: ”Where do you think you're going?”

“Goin’ out to play.”

“Here, let’s get this on you.” He helped me and my brother, D, get into the Uncle Sam suits. My little brother thought his was neat. I knew I looked like an idiot.

We walked the two miles to downtown Salt Lake City. Dad paraded us up one street and down the other. Old people told us we looked cute.

I tried to hide under a bus, but Dad kept me on the sidewalk.

Dad had hyped the

”Where do you think you're going?”

“Goin’ out to play.”

“Here, let’s get this on you.” He helped me and my brother, D, get into the Uncle Sam suits. My little brother thought his was neat. I knew I looked like an idiot.

We walked the two miles to downtown Salt Lake City. Dad paraded us up one street and down the other. Old people told us we looked cute.

I tried to hide under a bus, but Dad kept me on the sidewalk.

Dad had hyped the

suits. My little brother thought his was neat. I knew I looked like an idiot.

We walked the two miles to downtown Salt Lake City. Dad paraded us up one street and down the other. Old people told us we looked cute.

I tried to hide under a bus, but Dad kept me on the sidewalk.

Dad had hyped the

ne street and down the other. Old people told us we looked cute.

I tried to hide under a bus, but Dad kept me on the sidewalk.

Dad had hyped the fact that we were going to a movie and a vaudeville show at the Lyric Theater. That’s how he kept us walking to promote his political career. It was better than going back to starving to death. Politics meant his job.

Finally, with our little butts hanging to the ground, we dragged into the theater.

The Vaudeville show started first.

I don’t remember the acts except the juggler and the FAN DANCER!

I was ecstatic and Dad was absolutely humiliated.

He had brought his Mormon boys to a fan dance!

That’s when I started to giggle. I don’t remember if the movie was a comedy or not, but I