Cultural Artifact: Family Song

Nicole Tucker

John Tucker, Father

Lindon, Utah

2011

Title: Head Bangin’ to Katy Perry

Genre: Family song

Informant:  The main reason I would call this pop song a “family song” is because of my father, John Tucker. He is the most dedicated, self-disciplined person I’ve ever met in my entire life.  He works so hard all day every day.  Some times my family and I think he is a robot because of how much perseverance he has inside of him.  He has completed ten full marathons and probably 70+ half marathons just with in the past five years.  He runs his own landscaping and snow removal business in Utah County and has for the past 30 years.  He also owns a popcorn business and a business park complex on the side.  He’s taught me that when a task is received, it gets done and there’s no option in that.  His example of hard work has helped me learn how important it is.  I’ve been able to incorporate that into my own character, which has greatly influence my life.

Context: Being a teenager in the 80’s, my dad grew up on classics like Madonna, Belinda Carlisle, and Cyndi Lauper.  But now living in the year 2014 there are a few female pop sensations that he has grown to appreciate as well; to name a few: Lady GaGa, Ellie Goulding, and Katy Perry.  One night a couple of years ago, my family and I were sitting in my living room when my dad came in and said, “I have a new song but I don’t know what it is.   I heard it on the radio and it goes like this: do-do-do-do-doo-do-do-doo.”  After his attempt to sing us the melody, we all looked at each other and burst out laughing.  It took us days to figure out what song he was trying to describe to us.  Once we finally put the pieces together, he blasted the song from our iTunes in the office on repeat while he worked on schedules for his landscaping business.  People don’t believe me when I saw my dad jams out to Katy Perry to get pumped for his marathons either.  For some odd reason my dad thought that was the coolest song out there.  We were on a family trip and it became the anthem of our trip just because he felt like life was flawless when he was out on the open road, driving with his family in the car while jamming out to that song.  That memory associated with this song has become an inside joke between my siblings and me.

Text:   E.T. by Katy Perry

You're so hypnotizing

Could you be the devil?

Could you be an angel?


Your touch magnetizing

Feels like I am floating, leaves my body glowing
They say be afraid

You're not like the others, futuristic lover

Different DNA
They don't understand you
You're from a whole other world

A different dimension

You open my eyes

And I'm ready to go, lead me into the light
Chorus: [Kiss me, ki-ki-kiss me
Infect me with your loving

Fill me with your poison
Take me, ta-ta-take me
Wanna be a victim

Ready for abduction
Boy, you're an alien

Your touch so foreign
It's supernatural

Extraterrestrial]
You're so supersonic
Wanna feel your powers, stun me with your lasers

Your kiss is cosmic
Every move is magic
You're from a whole other world

A different dimension

You open my eyes
And I'm ready to go, lead me into the light
[Chorus]
This is transcendental

On another level

Boy, you're my lucky star
I wanna walk on your wavelength

And be there when you vibrate
For you I'll risk it all
[Chorus]

Texture:  Katy Perry’s music is very pop and this song especially has a good head-banging beat.  The lyrics are pretty pointless and probably aren’t the most appropriate, but that’s what makes it so funny: the fact that my very responsible father chooses to enjoy this type of song.

Meaning: This instance is one of the few insides jokes that my whole family—Dad, mom, and all five (including me) siblings—share. Only in recent years have we bonded like this, but I love it.  I love it when my entire family gets to spend time together, though it isn’t very often.  My oldest brother lives out of state with his wife, and my second oldest brother will be getting married in May.  All five of us kids attend different schools and universities which makes my mom a proud mama but she sure does miss us, and mourns over the fact that we’re all growing up so fast.  When we do all come back together, even if it is for just a couple days every few months, I sure do treasure the moments we get to laugh and create new inside jokes together.

Bonnie Moore

English 2010 10:30AM

(Here's a little video to go along with  the memory that features my mom, my sisters, and me.)



Cultural Artifact: Family Legend.

Nicole Tucker

Lisa Tucker

Home in Lindon

March 4, 2014

Title:  Surviving an Indian Confrontation

Genre: Family Legend

Informant:  This story originally comes from an article written in a newspaper by Annie Cowan Hudman.  The sister of my great, great grandma, Ethel Cowan, making this legend about my great, great, great grandpa James Cowan.  These people are all on my mom's side who is the informant who scanned copies of the article to send to me.  My mom was born and raised in Provo, living in Orem and then Lindon after that.  She even went to college in Provo at Brigham Young University where she studied art.  She’s a very creative individual who has a lot of passion.  Now at age forty-eight she has five children, three of which are obtaining college level education at three different universities, one daughter in high school and another in junior high.  She still enjoys using her creativity as an expressive outlet and is always thinking outside of the box of ways she can help her children in their learning and experiences.

Context:  I don’t remember when or where I first heard of this story, all I know is that everyone on my mom’s side has heard of it before.  Though when it is brought up, it is usually summarized in an exaggerated form but that’s what legends are like right?  Being passed down by word of mouth can skew details in a story.  This was my first time reading the actual story from print.  It’s always just been brought up in conversation among my family and that is how I’ve come to know the basic plot line.

Text:  The following images are the scans of the original newspaper article that describes my family legend.  The author of the article is the daughter of the man the story is about.  It takes place in July 1860 in what is now called Smithfield, Utah.  James Cowan and his family were on there way from Franklin, Idaho to Weber county to visit relatives.  On their journey, their wagon tongue broke and they noticed several Indians “riding very rapidly towards them.”   They escaped to a nearby cabin to hid the women and child but as the men stood outside to protect, the Indians “got up close and fired with their muzzle loaders.”  The author’s uncle was killed and her father was wounded in the chest.  Soon after, the article says he became very thirsty and ran to a small stream near the cabin.  He fainted and fell into the stream where the wound bled from the bullet hole that barely missed his heart.  Later, a search party found him face out of the water, still alive.  The cold, flowing water had kept the inflammation of the wound down which in turn saved his life.  He lived a good thirty-five more years, some of those years with broken rib bones and a bullet still lodged next to his backbone.

Texture:  The style of the article is very matter of fact.  There’s no detailed description of the scene just the people and what they were doing.  The language is not dramatic as opposed to the nature of the story.  If someone were to rewrite that story today, it would be full of descriptive sensory and dramatic details.  When this article was published though, that wasn’t the style of writing.  It was in the news, it was to get the facts out there and to notify people of what happened.  This makes it believable despite the incredulous nature of the story—I find it hard to believe myself.  But I also do believe in miracles. 

Meaning:  While reading the actual text of this article for the first time, it had great impact on me—especially because of my location.  Being a student at Utah State University, I am currently living in Logan, Utah, which is just south of Smithfield—the location of which this story takes place.  The people in this story, my ancestors, lived and traveled Cache Valley similar as to what I do today.  That makes me feel grateful to be living here, it gives me a sense of connection to them, and purpose to my life here in Logan.

Bonnie Moore

English 2010 !0:30

Cultural Artifact: Informal Photo

Nicole Tucker

Myself

Boise, Idaho

July 2013

Title: These Goofs

Genre: Informal Family Photo

Informant:  My love for beauty began right before the sixth grade.   From the very first time I held a camera in my hand, stood on my driveway, and preserved the bright oranges and reds of a summer sunset, I was hooked.  My mom noticed my artistic eye and always encouraged me to pursue my passion of photography.  It has always been one of the most impacting aspects of my life.  I took classes to learn the mechanics of a camera when I was in eighth grade and took out a loan from my dad to buy my own DSLR when I was in ninth.  In 2010, my photo entry was awarded second in the Man and Nature category of the BYU Monte L. Bean Museum Nature Photography Competition and Exhibit.  In high school I built a small business of shooting for families, children, seniors, missionaries, groups, engaged couples, bridals, and weddings.  By the time of my senior year I had a consistent amount of scheduled shoots.  Along with photographing people, I use photography as a personal form of expression to document and preserve the important things in my life.  I avidly follow photography websites and blogs to keep up to date with styles and trends in shoots and editing.  When I self-taught my sophomore-self Adobe’s Photoshop program, I was mesmerized.  I loved the editing process and my creativity was permanently sparked through a digital outlet.   That interest has brought me to the graphic design program at Utah State.

Context:  These photos were taken next to a garage in Middleton, Idaho.  The summer of 2013 my immediate family vacationed there.  I know, who goes on vacation to Boise, Idaho?  Well, my family and I did and it was the most fun we had in a long time. We experienced all Boise had to offer: water and fun park extravaganza, floating down the Boise River, and a visit to the zoo.   This was the first time in two years my whole family was able to spend time together because my older brother Kyle, the second child, served an LDS mission and lived out of the country for two years.  The faces in the photo go as followed from the photo on the left: Shelby, my sister-in-law; Craig, who is the oldest child and married to Shelby; myself, in my favorite summer dress; my littlest sister named Jessica, an eighth-grader; my older brother, Kyle, who just returned home; my father, sometimes we call him by his nickname Jolly; my mother, who loves us all dearly; and the sister just below me, Melissa, she’s the quirky one that keeps us all laughing.

Text: (actual photo)

Meaning:  Photos mean the world to me.  When a photograph preserves a memory in my mind it becomes priceless.  I’ve spent my whole life documenting moments through photos.  I’m a strong believer in expression and preservation of precious moments and pure emotion through visual images.  Some people paint with watercolor or oil pastel; I paint with light and record it in a photograph.  It’s always been my passion.  This set of particular images of my goofy family is particularly special because these pictures were the first of their kind—meaning that every member of our family was present in the frame.  Now it’s not that we never had pictures taken before but while my brother Kyle, the second child, was serving an LDS mission, my oldest brother, Craig married the lovely Shelby.  This photo was taken soon after Kyle returned home and met his new sister-in-law.  It was our first chance in a while to bond all together in the new state that we were in—getting older and becoming adult siblings.   I know through the years it will be important for my siblings and I to spend time together and keep our relationships close, I know we will!

Bonnie Moore

English 2012 10:30

Cultural Artifact: Tradition

Nicole Tucker

Myself

February 4, 2014

Title: Christmas Morning Back Scratch

Genre: Holiday Tradition

Informant:  The informant being myself, I’ll give a little introduction.  My full name is Nicole Marie Tucker and I grew up in Utah County in a little town called Lindon.  No one has ever really heard it so I introduce myself reigning from Pleasant Grove—the city of which I feel like I grew up because it is where I attended high school.  Basically every important thing that reared my adolescence happened to me while I was in this wonderful city. I knew that city like the back of my hand because I was a cross county runner and as a team we traveled every street by foot as we ran.  My house in Lindon, through, was located directly behind an elementary school.  We had a clear view of an open field and the beautiful front facing panorama of the great Mount Timpanogos from our backyard.

Context:  When it comes to Christmas, my immediate family has some pretty odd traditions.  The one that has been around the longest and that is probably the most bizarre is the Christmas morning back scratch.  Before dawn Christmas morning, after my siblings and I wake up, we parade into my parent’s bedroom and the tradition begins.  While my dad lies in bed each kid is required to message his back for five whole minutes, alternating from youngest to oldest.  It was always a time spent just talking and laughing together before the craziness of Christmas began.  My mom brought up memories reminiscing on past Christmases and my brothers pulled out some ridiculous joke. After the five of us completed nearly a half hour of back scratching it was officially time to walk down stairs and reveal the excitement of Christmas. 

Text: It is required that each sibling in my family scratches my dad’s back for five minutes before going down stairs to see what Santa brought on Christmas morning.

Texture:  We always wore our new Christmas jammies that we received the night before on Christmas Eve.  The brand new softness kept us warm on the chilly morning.  Since we gathered in my parent’s room early before sunrise, the half hour back scratch began in the dark and ended with dawn light revealing the world out of the east facing windows.  Some years, fog filled the field behind our house.  When my siblings and I were really young each five-minute segment passed by so slowly. My brother’s use to scold, “don’t watch the clock, it makes it go slower!”  I believed them as I tried my hardest to refrain from glancing over at the digital face.  I remember the dragging seconds pass by as I anxiously rubbed my dad’s back.  It was interesting to feel the difference in myself as I sat and went through the same motions year after year.  Each year, the clock moved quicker through five minutes as my mind and body grew up.   There were slightly different dynamics for a couple of years while my older brothers were away serving LDS missions and my two younger sisters and I had to cover their shifts in the back scratch.  It was a special year when we were finally all back together even with a new sister-in-law addition.  As the half hour was up and we were finally able to go down stairs, relief and excitement filled the room as Christmas day began.

Meaning:  This tradition is always my claim to fame.  Whenever I tell someone about it, they are surprised or in disbelief.  It is pretty odd, but it’s always what my family has done.  Even as my family transitions from immediate to more extended as we get older and add our own additions to the family, I feel that this tradition will carry on.  I bet my brothers will carry it on in their family.  Christmas morning wouldn’t be Christmas morning with out the back scratch for dad before we walk down stairs into our living room.  Most of the time we complain about it all year long, but deep down I know we all have a special place in our heart for that half hour. 

Bonnie Moore

English 2010 10:30