I am Rod Griffin. I was born in Salt Lake City, actually. In a house on 700 East between 400 and 500 South. That’s what my parents told me, anyway. Born in the back of a house in 1935. When I was a year old my dad opened up a bakery in America Fork, Utah. He operated that bakery for essentially the rest of his career until he retired. So I kinda grew up in a bakery. American Fork was, at that time, a small town — 3,000 people or so. It was good to grow up in a small town. Everybody knew everybody else almost, and everybody knew everybody’s business, too. But that’s the way it is in a small town — but it was good. Me and my friends would go all around town on our bicycles and we would sometimes take our bicycles down to Utah Lake and go swimming in the lake, not realizing how polluted it was at the time. And you know, when you’re young, nothing affects you anyway. So we’d go down and throw that black muck at each other, and so on. Anyway, I went to — t...