My Trip to Los Angeles

About a week ago, I went to southern California to visit my uncle and take care of a little business (TCB). For those of you who do not know my uncle, he is the best. His name is Roland and I share my first name with his middle, both named after my Grandfather (he is on the left of my dad in both pictures).

My Uncle Ron (what we call him) was born in 1943 into the same house in which he currently resides. He was in Army in the early 60's then back home to cause malay and general shenanigans with my father (one year his elder). They spent most of their time shooting guns, off-roading and chasing women. Oh, and I cannot forget cycling, my uncle could out ride almost anyone half his age at any distance (more on that later).

The brothers' tom foolery went on until 1976 when my parents married. At some time between being honorably discharged from Army and my dad leaving him for my mother, he took up employment with the Deseret Industries (yes, they exist outside of Utah). At the DI in Los Angeles they have a fleet of trucks that pick up donations from people that call in (most notable was when he picked up from Lou Ferrigno).

For thirty-five years he drove absolutely every freeway, highway, main street, residential street, side street and alley way in the greater Los Angeles area. He did so, for all thirty-five years, accident free. Not a one. When he retired about three years ago, he received a letter from the the First Presidency of the LDS church congratulating him on not only thirty-five years of service, but thirty-five years of accident free service. That's more than I can say about my mere twelve years of total driving.

While we were driving around together on my trip, he would spell out our entire route before we got to the end of his street. He can tell anyone how to get anywhere in southern California, how many traffic lights you would go through between turns, the names of the streets at those lights, estimated time of arrival as well as how traffic would be at any given time of day. If you have ever been to that area you will realize how incredible that is.

Since retiring my Uncle Ron has made a new daily schedule for himself. From ten am until two pm, the bike ride. He rides forty to sixty miles a day. Everyday. He put more miles on his bike last year than his van (over twelve thousand). The van is a whole other story in itself, but suffice it to say that it is very distinct and is as much a part of him as his goofy laugh.

He never married, and lived in the same house his entire life. He has never made any substantial amounts of money. He has never had a glamorous job, or been part of a fortune 500 company. And yet, he is one of the happiest and most content people I know. I love my Uncle Ron.