I pretty much had an ideal upbringing in the 50’s here in Nampa. Not unlike “the Beav” shall we say—you know, as in “Leave it to Beaver.” My mom was a typical homemaker, my dad a family practice medical doctor, and there were four of us kids. Other than the usual drama, I know I was blessed to have grown up without any real childhood trauma. At the time, Nampa’s population was roughly 25,000 and was largely lily white. Mexican migrant workers and…