I'll Be Darned
Snide Remarks #599
"I'll Be Darned"
by Eric D. Snider
Published on November 10, 2008
My grandfather, John L. Merrifield, died on Nov. 1, just 46 days shy of his 82nd birthday. His life spanned 29,905 days, and he probably worked on about 29,000 of them. He was always working. He loved work. This was one of many things that he and I did not have in common. Growing up during the Great Depression is probably what instilled that work ethic in him. It's too late for me, but maybe the next generation, growing up in the new Depression, will get it. Grandpa would like that.
I actually worked as one of Grandpa's employees for several years when I was a teenager. He had a business in downtown Lake Elsinore, Calif., where I grew up (and where he grew up, and where his grandfather had been one of the first settlers). This business, John's Service Center, was a bizarre catch-all. We sold and repaired new and used appliances, as well as second-hand furniture and miscellaneous junk. We rented medical equipment like oxygen tanks and wheelchairs. We did photocopies (this was before Kinko's), and printed fliers and programs and so forth. It was also the Greyhound bus depot. It was also a 24-hour telephone-answering service for about 60 local clients, including doctors' offices, plumbers, and the cable company. (That was mostly where I worked -- answering phones, not fixing refrigerators.) At various times Grandpa also ran a taxi service, limousine service, and ambulance service. His attitude was basically that if you needed something done, and it wasn't one of the services he already provided, he would figure out a way to do it.
My mom told a story at the funeral about how one time a customer came in looking for a particular kind of curtain rod, and Grandpa didn't have it -- but he knew that the very rod in question was currently at his house, holding up the curtains on his living room window. So he went home, took it down, and sold it, much to the consternation of my grandmother.
That was Grandpa to a T: always wanting to help, always wanting to be of service, his heart always in the right place, even if it sometimes led him to do crazy things like sell his wife's home furnishings. He would literally have given you the shirt off his back. He'd rather have sold it to you, but if you were really hard up, he'd give it to you for free. He was a soft touch like that.
Grandpa closed his business several years ago but continued to work, partly out of financial necessity, and partly because that's just what he did. Until very recently, he worked part-time as a dispatcher for a towing company and had become friendly with the drivers. You and I would not associate with such people, of course, but Grandpa was not an elitist snob like you and I are. A confederation of these tow-truck drivers attended the funeral. They were on call, so they drove a tow truck to the church and wore their grubby tow-truck-driver clothes, which made them look out of place, technically, but no one minded. It was like Dumbledore's funeral, where you had all these ordinary wizards and witches but then also forest gnomes and water nymphs crawling in from their realms to pay their respects.
But that was fitting. Grandpa had worked in so many fields, and dealt with so many people, that he had friends in every station of life. A true representation of his circle of acquaintances would have included not just tow-truck drivers but doctors, lawyers, religious leaders, mayors, drug addicts, hobos, car mechanics, businessmen, sailors, mailmen, Boy Scouts, bus drivers, schoolteachers, crack whores, Catholics, Mormons, Baptists, Jews, Hindus, whites, blacks, Asians, Mexicans, midgets, paraplegics, amputees, skydivers, racists, Nazis, monks, schizophrenics, paranoiacs, serial killers, hooligans, layabouts, ne'er-do-wells, no-accounts, and Canadians. He had spent 95 percent of his life in Lake Elsinore, yet all of those (and more) had crossed his path at some point, and had all come away thinking, "That John's a stand-up guy."
Grandpa was a life-long Boy Scout. He even started a Scout troop with the locals in Guam when he was stationed there with the Navy in World War II. He loved all the elements of Scouting, particularly camping and knot-tying, two activities for which I had little use. I also didn't care much for "regulation" or "structure" or "having to perform specific tasks in order to acquire patches of fabric that I could sew to a shirt." So my involvement in Boy Scouting was minimal. But I remember one occasion when for some reason my brother Christopher and I had been prevailed upon to attend a Court of Honor, and Grandpa was more than happy to drive us there. He wore his full Boy Scout uniform, the adult version, which looks just like the youth version, only hilarious, because an adult is wearing it. Chris and I wore civilian clothing.
After the Boy Scout ordeal was over, Grandpa offered to buy us a treat. This was around 1988, when frozen yogurt was all the rage, so we stopped at a local TCBY. Being about 14 years old at the time, I was hideously embarrassed to discover that employed behind the counter of this shop were two pretty teenage girls, and here I was with my grandfather, who was dressed in a Boy Scout shirt and neckerchief, a pair of green shorts, pasty old-man legs, and knee-high green socks with red bunting. To make matters worse, Grandpa had not experienced the wonder and magic of frozen yogurt before, and he was amazed to see the buffet of toppings available. He asked the counter girl a lot of questions.
"So you can get any of this and put it on the frozen yogurt?"
"Yes."
"How many different toppings can you get?"
"As many as you want. The first one is free, and then it's 50 cents for each additional one."
"And you can get as many as you want, any of 'em?"
"That's right."
"Well, I'll be darned."
And I'm standing there wanting to melt into the floor because my absurdly costumed grandfather is acting awestruck by frozen yogurt, like a rube who's just wandered in from the country and can't believe how tall the buildings are in the big city. Now, of course, I can look back at the incident with fondness, at least in part because I no longer care what teenage girls think of me. You can really free up a lot of mental space by not caring what teenage girls think of you.
Grandpa said "I'll be darned" a lot. It's a major catchphrase in my brothers' and my impersonations of him. It wasn't until this week that I really reflected on why he said it so much. It's because he was always learning something new, and he liked learning something new, and he was a humble man who wasn't afraid to acknowledge that he had learned something new. He was a tinkerer, a mechanic, an explorer, an experimenter. He admired industry and efficiency, even though his own business practices tended to be slipshod and haphazard, rarely profitable but always resulting in those he dealt with being happy. All 11 of his grandsons acted as pallbearers at his funeral, even though only six were needed to carry the casket. Grandpa would have appreciated the gesture while noting that the efforts of five guys were being wasted. Shouldn't they be digging or something?
You know, maybe Grandpa and I had more in common than I thought. I'm looking at a stack of CDs that a friend of mine gave me when he moved. He was going to take them down to a used CD place and try to sell them, but he hadn't had time. I suggested he leave them with me, I'd list them on Half.com (which is usually more profitable than a CD shop anyway), take care of the organizing and shipping, then split the proceeds with him. That's exactly the kind of resourceful attitude that Grandpa had toward business: always look for new opportunities to make a few bucks. Also, my friend gave me these CDs two months ago, and I haven't actually done anything with them yet, which might also be something Grandpa would have done. I guess I can relate to him after all. I'll be darned.
Copyright © Eric D. Snider.
This work may not be transmitted via the Internet, nor reproduced in any other way, without written consent from Eric D. Snider.
This item has 35 comments
November 10, 2008 at 5:55 am
Grandpas are awesome, especially when they dress weird and say corny things. What a wonderful tribute.
November 10, 2008 at 6:17 am
Your grandpa sounds an awful lot like my own was. There wasn't alot that mine wouldn't do for anyone, & I was always amazed at how many people knew him. How wonderful to have lived a life so full & so enjoyed as your grandfather's.
November 10, 2008 at 6:52 am
I love it.
November 10, 2008 at 7:12 am
In the Harry Potter movies I've seen so far, I haven't noticed a funeral for Dumbledore. Thanks.
November 10, 2008 at 7:41 am
The Dumbledore reference was actually my favorite of the column. Not because it was a "funny" reference (in the traditional sense), but because it was still sentimental while interesting and warmly humorous. Like my grandpa was before he had the stroke and would say horrible things at Thanksgiving.
November 10, 2008 at 1:19 pm
Lane, if you haven't read the books by now, you can't complain about spoilers. So don't get your undies in a bunch and go read them! Eric, you too have obviously not read the books. Forest gnomes and water nymphs? For cryin' out loud! They were centaurs and mermaids. Sheesh.
November 10, 2008 at 1:55 pm
Lane - you make me wonder how many Harry Potter fans are out there who are readers (at least enought to read blogs like Eric's here) that have not read the books, only seen the movies. Is there a significant fraction of such persons as Lane in Eric's fandom?
November 10, 2008 at 4:04 pm
Rule on spoilers... if its been out for more than one year it doesn't count as a spoiler. Spoilers for Half Blood Prince are allowable because pretty much everyone who cares about the Harry Potter series has already read the book. At least, that's how I look at it.
Great article btw Eric, it made me think alot of my own grandfather's funeral. I think they would have gotten along had they known each other.
November 10, 2008 at 4:19 pm
My condolences. Your grandpa sounds like a great guy.
November 10, 2008 at 4:22 pm
Reminds me of my Grandad. He's been gone for 40 years but he was the best and I still love him.
November 10, 2008 at 4:59 pm
I think there are probably quite a few of us who don't care to read 17,000 pages but are okay watching a movie every year or so.
But I'm pretty sure there's a Simpson's episode that already spoiled the Dumbledore thing for me anyway. Also, so what.
November 10, 2008 at 5:57 pm
I remember the last day I spent with my Great-Grandpa. He, my father, and I were sitting on a bench talking when my great- grandma came up and started yelling in his ear. She told us it was because he was hard of hearing. After she left he turned to my father and I and said "I can hear just fine, I just don't like talking to her." That always made me smile.
November 10, 2008 at 6:18 pm
I was blessed to know John Merrifield, and blessed to see him recently at his grand-daughter's wedding. John was everything Eric says! Loved by so many, he just went about being John. He raised great kids -- all whom I was blessed to know and whom I will always love. We lived in Lake Elsinore for a dozen years -- and went to church with the Merrifields in the 60/70s. We were all family. Some people leave a huge imprint on the planet. John was one I'll never forget. Thanks Eric for sharing with your heartfelt words. You are a very talented writer. Linda Turley-Hansen
November 10, 2008 at 7:59 pm
Beautiful tribute, Eric! I read the whole thing with a smile on my face, and by the end had tears in my eyes as well. My grandfather (well, both my grandfathers) passed away 2 years ago, but I felt many of the same feelings for them that you've expressed for your own. Reading this brought many memories back (in a good way!). Thanks for the lovely article.
November 10, 2008 at 9:05 pm
Hate to admit but I teared up at the end (after laughing through the whole thing). I love my grandpas. Sorry for your loss.
November 10, 2008 at 9:45 pm
Nice tribute Eric. Now that I am a grandpa I can only say, love them while you have them.
November 11, 2008 at 1:04 am
Hi my name is Julie and John is my great uncle. I am Lilah's grand daughter and I remember several times playing in Uncle John's yard as a kid. I just wanted to say that this is touching- thank you! My best memory of him is when we went over to his house to visit with him and the missionaries and I got sick all over his living room and he was so calm and nice as he told me it was all ok. He saw how embarrassed I was and made sure that I knew it really was ok.
November 11, 2008 at 1:59 am
Julie: are you Greg's daughter, then? Have I ever met you? Thanks for posting about my dad!
Also, Lane is Eric's brother, in case that makes it more okay that he complained about the spoiler.
November 11, 2008 at 4:02 am
He may have been my grandpa by marriage but I felt I knew him better than my own grandpa. I enjoyed reading this story and I can totally picture him saying "I'll be darned". Thank you for the tears and laughs!!
November 11, 2008 at 4:03 am
Thanks for spoiling my cover, Mom :)
November 11, 2008 at 5:16 am
Great article, Eric. Grandpa has to be very proud, only he might add an "Ah, shucks". By the way...don't worry about the new depression. You don't make any money anyway...you're a writer!
ps I reproduced it and put it in my scrapbook, so sue me...oh, yeah, I don't have any money, either
November 11, 2008 at 6:22 am
Stan,that would be "Oh, shoot!"
November 11, 2008 at 7:15 am
Sorry Eric about your Grandpa.That was a wonderful tribute. I recently read the one about the other grandpa.(uncle Ray) It sounds like you have been blessed with two Grand grandpas and that you are fully aware of how they have enhanced your life.
Laurie I'm sorry for your loss.
November 11, 2008 at 5:56 pm
I grew up running around causing mischief with your Uncle David and having crushes on Beth & Laurie before my parents whisked us away to Arizona to live in exile the rest of our lives. Lake Elsinore was such a wonderful place to grow up and I have always felt cheated that we did not finish what we started there. I define myself by much of what happened in those years. What a wonderful tribute to "Brother Merrifield". I remember spending time at the Merrifield home always having a good time, always feeling like I was part of the clan. I remember Brother and Sister Merrifield were the nicest people on the planet. (it was a tie between them and Brother Crane the "jelly bean man" haha) There isn't a year that's gone by in my life that I haven't thought often of those years of which the Merrifields are an integral part. It was wonderful to read this tribute. To get back in touch with the love that I have for the Merrifield family.....
Thank you for sharing Eric....
Tillman "Trip" Turley
November 11, 2008 at 5:59 pm
Yeah Lane, because it's not like the link to www.lanesnider.com is any sort of a give-away . . .
November 11, 2008 at 6:17 pm
Wow, Trip, you had a crush on me? Probably more Beth, but still. It is really nice to hear from you and to know that you remember my parents. And I remember those jelly beans, too...
November 11, 2008 at 10:36 pm
It's a nice column Eric. I have to admit, it made me a little heartsick to read. My first grandfather died in 1984, when I was two years old and too small to remember him, and the last of my four grandparents died in 2006. My mother passed away in September of this year due to pancreatic cancer at the age of 51, her only grandchild being two years old.
I just hope you know how blessed you are to have had grandparents (and parents) who have been able to be part of your life for so long, and I hope everyone who has loving grandparents appreciates what they have.
November 12, 2008 at 12:30 am
Yep! I am Greg's daughter. I remember many years ago going to a family reunion in Irvine when I was 10 and being as I'm 28 now I don't remember who I met! lol Sorry! However, I'd love to get to know some of my family so we should stay in touch! I'm a mom of four and I live in Utah. Have a good one!
November 12, 2008 at 2:00 am
I remember your Grandfather from when I was in the boy scouts during the 80's. He actually helped me get a merit badge and I believe that Nick also went to him for a merit badge too. He was a nice man and I learned a lot about him from your column.
November 12, 2008 at 6:33 am
Haha.... Hey Laurie! I just remember having a crush on the Merrifield girls. I remember coming back to visit one time when I was a teenager and wasn't it you and Beth that took me to a Stake Dance? I remember David complaining the whole time we were there.....lol He always made me laugh. He was a good friend. My best friend back then. And you know us little guys. We always had crushes on the older girls....lol
November 12, 2008 at 7:52 pm
"You can really free up a lot of mental space by not caring what teenage girls think of you." Ha!
That was a great article. I never knew either of my grandfathers well so I'm jealous. He sounded like a good fellow. Also, great summary of the "I'll be darned!" phrase.
November 14, 2008 at 9:47 pm
Thank you for sharing your grandfather with us. I too did not have a grandfather and wish I had. Maybe I met him one day. I grew up in Murrieta and had the misfortune to visit Lake Elsinore quite a few times in my youth. He seemed like a great man. Touching tribute.
November 15, 2008 at 1:46 am
"... and Canadians." (LQTM)
And I'll bet John respected all those people, even the ones he didn't like much. Makes me think of my grandma.
She was born in 1908, grew up on a tobacco farm in the South, had a 4th-grade education, was married at 14 and a mother at 15, and farmed and sewed and scrimped and saved without a single freaking complaint (except for the bunions) every day for 95 years. (Yeah, they'd take the kids out to the fields by the time they were two or three and have them hold string or whatever they could do. And if they got unruly, the parents would give them a tobacco leaf to chew on so the nicotine would buzz them out a bit. So she had a tobacco habit from age 3 until she decided to give up snuff cold-turkey at 92. Talk about willpower.)
And while most people would expect that those from her time and place would be close-minded, ignorant, bigoted simpletons, she wasn't afraid to hold court with anyone and was surprisingly accepting of others' choices and beliefs, even the ones she didn't like much.
I think that like your grandpa, she lived through a lot of years when the world's troubles forced them to realize that we're all in the same shaky little boat and the only prayer we have for making it across is to help out and act nice.
Not a bad lesson for us to learn today.
(Thanks for letting me ramble...)
November 16, 2008 at 3:29 am
i can`t believe how you made me remember all those fun things about bro.john you made me laugh and reading trip? and linda wow they were the ones who along with jeanie warner brought me in the church i lived in elsinore as a teen ager and then after getting out of the marine corps with a new wife kenny and janna your nephew is cool john liked my dad and i had a crush on the merrifield girls also don`t tell them haha
January 6, 2009 at 12:20 am
Hey Greg...
Kind of a late response. I popped back in to see if the Merrifield girls had left any more comments....lol I think the "Tillman" you are referring to is my Dad who was married to Linda back then. I'm their oldest son. I do remember Jeanie however. So i'm sure I ran into you at some point. If you would like to get a hold of either my Mom or Dad, toss me an email and i'll forward it to them.... (my email is ttturley@rocketmail.com)
All the best....
Trip