Hot In My CD Player

I found a new love and I had to share it with the world. Seriously, I love this album. John has really outdone himself. You feel glad just to be sad.

"When you're dreamin' with a broken heart, the wakin' up is the hardest part. You roll out of bed and down on your knees and for a moment you can hardly breath. Wondering was she really here? Is she standin' in my room? No she's not, cause she's gone, gone, gone, gone, gone."

Glorious misery.

My Step-Mother's Garter

I'd totally forgotten about this story. It's a gem. I don't know that my writing skills are up to par with my story telling skills. So if you don't enjoy this, ask me for a retelling in person.

So back in...May?....I think, my Dad got married for the third time. This time he decided to forgo creating six kids himself and opted to have them included in the package. Now lets put this all into perspective. My dad is 60. His new love - 42. His six new children are ages 6-18. Even now, almost half a year later, my eyes grow wide just thinking about it.

H'anyway, so all of my father's children attended the wedding in little old Idaho. That's 12 kids....12. Now somehow my father and the bride missed the memo on remarriages, so they decided that they wanted a traditional wedding. That's right. It was held in a cultural hall complete with a tacky backdrop, aile, ring bearer, boutinears, corsages, luncheon, reception, book signing, tux, white dress, and marching music.

The wedding rolled ok and things were, for the most part, smooth. That is except for the ring being dropped three times during the ceremony by the poor little 6-year-old ring bearer. The reception, however, turned out to be a bit of a disaster. Besides having one of my siblings break down into tears and disappear, along with the others who went to find her, there were some other choice moments. First, having stayed up late the night before, the three eldest children (My older sister, along with her husband & child, my older brother, and I) oversleep our afternoon nap. We rolled into the reception post receiving line and cake cutting and were pleased to receive the scowls of our new step-mother. The reception continued to head towards its climax with a newlyweds dance that turned into a 6th grade snowball (you know where every 20-30 seconds you split and find a new partner). After that pleasent affair there was the bouquet toss followed by every man's favorite: the garter toss. The GARTER toss! You're 60!

When all of the eligible bachelors at the reception were rounded up to the center of the floor there were only three. Just three. My two brothers and me. We stood arm in arm trying not to watch as our father started the dig required to retrieve the abominable hidden treasure. While my father held up the gatter like an archeologist that just uncovered the treasures of Giza, my older brother and I began making our solemn pacts and vows, "Daniel (our younger brother) gets the garter. No matter what, Daniel gets the garter." The moment of truth arrived and my father shot the garter over his shoulder like discarded beer can. The garter hooked south in a low glide off to my right. There was nothing I could do. My other brothers were out of reach. It was going to be my catch. My mind began racing. What do I do? I can't just watch it hit the ground, that would bring the old man to tears. But I couldn't catch it. Maybe I could make a token effort. Perhaps I would act like I was trying but just miss it. The decision was made. The old man's emotions must be protected. I gave a small token effort and began reaching out toward the garter. From out of nowhere, my six year old ring-bearing step brother comes sliding in on his knees and snags the garter! Safe! Safe! Touchdown! It was all I could do to not throw my hands up like a referee and declare the field goal good. I was hugging my brothers and almost crying. "We made it boys. We made it."

Billy

So I have an incredible friend. We were roomates once. He is one of the most passionate, loving, charitable people I know. Course you don't want to get on his bad side. You better watch out for the passion then. But he has the ability to really love people. Charity. We were talking the other night, after a long hiatus, and he said something that really hit me.

"We judge our relationships on their utility."

Just think about it for a minute. I think this is often true. I know that some of you are like Billy, but I'm not one of those. I think most of my relationships are based on their utility. They are based on what I can get out of them. If I meet someone and they don't particularly interest me or they annoy me, I just ignore that relationship. If on the other hand I meet someone and they make me laugh or think, I keep them around. How selfish. I have a long way to go to understand true charity.

Bloggers Block

Here's the hitch. You want to blog something that involves a somebody that just might have 3 degrees of separation or less from your blog. Danger Ranger! So you think....ok...I'll just post it on my private blog. No good! You know you want some of your peeps to have access. So then you think, I should just tell them. But just telling them robs you of that wonderful illusion the blog creates for you that you are a writer. "I deserve to be a columnist", you think to yourself. You loose that moment of triumph to be found when you click the Publish Post button and think, "I'm sooo witty." So what to do in this dire dilemma. Just write a blog complaining that you can't write a blog.

better than the weekend

Ok, so on a Wednesday a couple of weeks ago I had an unexpectedly brilliant day. Like so many wonderful days, to mearely describe it would trivialize the brilliance of such an experience. So suffice it to say that on a new moon, with starlight cutting through the dark night, I spent time with some wonderful friends. We ate indian food, were graced by the performance of jazz legends, explored abandoned buildings by breaking the law, and made our necks sore by star gazing in some famer's field.

Osama Bin Laden Family Guy

So this is my first video blog. Cool. I think this is hilarious.

Stupidity Reigns

Pet Peeve #2: Beauty Pageants

Just what are they? Let's think for a moment about where they come from and why we have them. After extensive research (Wikipedia) I have found the answers. First and foremost, pageants were designed and created as a marketing tool. The first “bathing beauty pageant" took place as part of a summer festival to promote business in Rehoboth Beach, Delaware, in 1880. Beauty pageants became more widely accepted during WWII when beauty queens were used to sell bonds and entertain troops. Pageants became popular during the 50's when they were used to promote county fairs and local products. What is at work here? It's one of the oldest marketing tools in the book: sex appeal.

Sadly enough, thousands of women sign up each year to compete with one another for the laud and honor of a nation. Laud and honor of a nation?! How crazy are you? You compete merely to appease the appetites of a few dirty old goats. The men in attendance are only waiting to ogle you while you parade around in a swim suit. Only heaven knows why there are women there. It sure isn't for the talent show because there is better talent to be had at your little sister's piano recital.

Pageants have been the bane of the feminist movement. They tear down all that our fore-mothers burned their bras for. They are a place where the skewed perceptions and pressures of a warped society objectify emaciated young women under the pretense of beauty, or worse yet, a scholarship. What would you do for a little money? If you win, you hope to navigate your future by filling your sails with the stagnant winds of popularity, praise and a penny in your pocket.

“So the Miss America "Scholarship" Pageant is on tonight”, your roommate says. Oh, there's a real winner. I could listen to somebody regurgitate platitudes about community service, helping the needy and world peace. Don't we see what is really going on here? It's all about motives. There are three parties whose motives must be examined.

First, the contestants. Why are they doing this? Possible motives:

Fame
Praise
The stamp of society that says they are beautiful
Ego or a lack there of
Money
Being on TV
Make Mom or Dad happy
Show the mirror on the wall who is the fairest of them all
Beat Marsha at her own game
Low self esteem
Other reasons not readily ascertainable

Second, the audience. Why are they there? Possible reasons:

Titillate their sexual appetites
Support someone they know
Dream about the day when they will compete
Remember the time they competed
They have nothing better to do

Third, the organizers. Why would you do this?

Money. Plain and simple. Money makes the world go round. Why do we have TV show's? Money. Why do we have movies? Money. It's all about money. Somebody, one day, found that if he got some women to parade about in swimsuits, people would come watch. In fact they would pay to watch. Not only that, they would be in a particular location for a particular amount of time, which can be used to boost sales and market products.

So why are young women still voluntarily signing up to be the marketing tools for a few greedy and debauched old men?

"Doobee Doobee Doo"

Ok, so I've decided to be honest: I hate my work. Ok, maybe I don't hate it per say, but I don't really enjoy it. Ok, ok. I know. It's my attitude, isn't it? Yes, it is. Attitude is everything. I go through Attitude undulations. I'll have a good attitude and after a few months it will begin to morph into a terrible attitude. Then I'll have a moment of reawakening and completely turn around. Hey! It's a beautiful day at work again! Give it a few months and I'll be improving the wrinkles in my furrowed brow.

The past month has been full of brow furrowing, until a couple of days ago. I walked into the nasty and never appetizing Raytheon Cafeteria. Everything looked disgusting and I was resigned to staring at the grill menu. My brow furrowed. The worker on the other side of the glass gazed at me in amusement. I finally said, "I'll take a hotdog." "Wow," came the reply. "The human body is an amazing thing! So many expressions. For a while there I couldn't tell if you were angry or upset. All right! One hotdog coming up." The cafeteria worker is a man in his forties. He reminds me of a pirate due to his black bandana, gold hoop earring, scruffy goatee, and missing right front tooth. "Doobee doobee doo.....," he begins to sing as he throws my hotdog on the grill. "Strangers in the night," my mind fills in.

My dog is now done and being dressed. "Onions?” he asks. "Yeah, sautéed onions please." “I do have raw onions." "No. Sautéed." "Ahhhhhh. I see, still want to keep your friends. Good choice. There you are sir. Next, please. Talk to me ma'am!"

And away I went....in awe. In total awe. Here I am, 27, nice job, good pay and I'm complaining?! And here is this man in his forties, working in a cafeteria and he is happier than I am! What is wrong with me?! Talk about ungrateful! It's all about attitude. It's about approach. Most jobs are more boring than otherwise. "It is something to be able to paint a particular picture, or to carve a statue (or build a radar, or flip a burger), and so to make a few objects beautiful; but it is far more glorious to carve and paint the very atmosphere and medium through which we look. To affect the quality of the day - that is the highest of arts." (HDT)

R Wilde

More lines from my favorite old townie:

"But that's a little outside your belly wick."

"I've done 47 years of a 50 year life sentence at this company. For what they are paying me and the work that I actually do, I'd have more respect for myself if I walked across the street to the bank and stuck a gun in their faces."

"Don't get me wrong. I think he's a nice guy, but he's got the personality of a flat beer."

"I get my exercise at night, ma' boy."

420 dude

So I've decided to rant about one of my pet peeves. Evites. I think I'll just take an excerpt from a chat that Mary and I were having. (If you don't know Mary you should). I happened to find out a few things about Mary I really shouldn't share. But you guys can keep it on the DL I'm sure. H'enyway:

......

Webster: oh hey I gotta go
me: What is it 4:20, or something?
Oh, it is 4:20. How crazy is that. Only 2 more hours of work. Wait....
Webster: blush
me: I've heard rumors about you lately.
Webster: oh really? in regards to?
me: 4:20
Webster: not true
completely unfounded
me: Ok?
Webster: hee hee
me: So it's true??????? :)
Webster: aye me not sure how to respond
me: Ok. No need to. Akward.
Webster: hahahaaa! no!
me: cricket cricket
Webster: hahahaaaa! no it's just that I.....
me: Ahhhhh
Webster: but i don't want anyone to know, you know?
me: I do. I do. That's probably for the best.
Webster: yeah
me: Ok....so....mental note....don't go with Mary to the Bob Marley revival she invited me to.... Got it.
Webster: you would love it
me: ;)
Webster: who is andrew jeans?
me: ???
Webster: i just got an evite from him dunno him
me: Me neither. ps. I have a pet peeve with evites.
Webster: actually, i'm not sure. he appears to live in NH. Rural NH. what's the peeve?
me: The fact that they know EVERYTHING.
Webster: hahaaaa!
me: First they know that you got the email with the evite. Then they know if you opened the email with the evite.
Webster: lol
me: Then they know if you opened the email and clicked on the link to the evite. And they know if you checked who's coming. And they know if you respond or not.
Webster: it's a little big brother, i feel ya
me: It's never ending.
Webster: evite was originally created for the FBI
me: "So why haven't you opened my evite?"
"So why didn't you respond to my evite?"
Webster: i'm hearing seinfeld use this
me: He should. Maybe I should email him....
Webster: def initely

The Bachelor Pad

So Tim and I have a foosball table which we stole from the church. It is a great addition to the pad. It was broken for a while so we hadn't played on it yet. On Sunday it was finally working and we had a few friends over for dinner. We started a friendly Sunday afternoon game. Mary and I played against Mooney and Kylee. It was Mary's debut game playing foosball. Out of control. Not only did she defend but she screamed, shouted, shook uncontrollably, jumped, high-fived, and kicked ass.

After all the peeps had left Tim and I played a game. I made a marvelous showing by scoring 6 consecutive goals on myself and loosing in a near shut-out. After the game was over, I looked at Tim and said, "That is the worst game of Ping-Pong I've ever played."

I Love That Dirty Water

Raaaar! Last night was absolutely amazing. Amazing. Thanks to my wonderful friends Ju and Carri (and of course Claudio) I went sailing. One of my favorite things about sailing is how quiet it is. No motors or splashing water. Just the sound of the boat skimming over the water, the wind in your face, and the other 7 people riding with you.

We went out to watch the moon rise. By 8:30 we were a little antsy so we started texting google to find out when the moon would rise. No luck, but the texting google thing is really cool. You should try it.

It was the perfect time of night. It's that point where the sun has gone down but there is still enough light to make the sky-scrapers look like they are glowing. Still, it is dark enough that the glow of the city lights is strong. That's when it came. The moon that is. It rose right between the sky-scrapers of Boston and Back Bay. It was enormous and yellow. It was a truly ethereal experience.

Mm!

For pictures go to Ju's blog.

BOSTON!

Go Sox

This here little blog is actually just a compilation of a couple of emails I've sent out in the past. For most of you this is just a rehash. So don't even bother reading. H'enyways, here goes.


So many of you have heard the stories of Roger. Yes, yes. My 67 year old co-worker. A total Boston townie. He hates the Red Sox and loves the Yankees. If you ask him why he'll say, " 'Cause I got tired a loosin' my lunch money on the Red Sox." People love to give him a hard time. The latest thing was this picture. Someone hung it in his office. Train a child up in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it. Hah. I love Boston. I love Fenway. Go Sox!



The following is an email I sent to my family (all yankees fans) after a great Sox game:

While I know that the following my cause me to be ostracized from a family full of blind and belligerent Yankees fans, I do have to shout the proverbial Boston chant, "Yankees Suck!" I went to a game at Fenway Park last night. I sat center field, on a warm and calm summer evening, while we spanked the Devil Rays. Every time I go to Fenway it reaffirms the fact that I love the Red Sox. Red Sox for life! You can have your gargantuan, cold, and impersonal Yankee Stadium bought by the sellouts of the past century. I'll stick to the Green Monster and "Sweet Caroline" in the 8th. "But I love that dirty water; Oh, Boston, you're my home." Here's to the greatest underdogs of the past century.

Quick Quote

I heard this quote from Bishop Haight:

"Character is the ability to stick with a decision, after the emotion is gone."

daily lines from the old man

A couple of lines from Roger this morning (to be read with a Boston townie accent):

"This year I'm takin' every friday off. Next year I'm gonna take fridays and mondays. I mean wha-do-I have to worry about. As long as you are here I know my stocks will continue to soar. You're on the cuttin' edge of technology ma' boy."

"How are things with the ladies ma' boy? You're too nice, that's the probelm. They're takin' advantage of ya. You gotta stop this, put your foot down, dig in your heals. The women like it when you're nasty."

7

So I'm a little late on the 7's sceen. Here it is loves.

7 things i want to do before i die
1 backpack europe
2 see pavarotti in concert before he dies
3 drive a ferrari (and not around the block or like your grandmother would)
4 skinny dip in walden pond with my wife
5 play the guitar well
6 be well read
7 be of service to the world

7 things i cannot do
1 play the piano
2 live in idaho or utah
3 drive slow
4 eat olives
5 get addicted to tv shows (except the west wing)
6 talk to illogical people
7 have a pet

7 things i say often
1 bloody hell
2 grrrrrr - usually accompanied by the weak wrist shake
3 sweet as
4 true story
5 lets be honest
6 you know
7 whats the latest

7 movies i could watch over and over
1 rudy
2 last samuri
3 hero
4 youve got mail
5 three amigos
6 so i married an axe murder
7 west wing (i know its not a movie)

7 songs i could listen to over and over
1 when we dance - sting
2 at last - etta james
3 under my skin - frank sinatra
4 warning sign - coldplay
5 seven days to change your life - jamie cullum
6 jupiter - from holsts the plantes
7 nessun durma - as performed by pavarotti

7 things that attract me to my best friends
1 witty
2 passionate
3 spontaneous
4 honest
5 chill
6 non-judgemental
7 kind hearted

7 people i think should do 7's
1 most of you have already done it
2 c s lewis
3 joseph smith
4 my mom
5 the red dragon
6 mary webster
7 the parry

Roger

So many of you have heard the stories of Roger. Yes, yes. My 67 year old co-worker. A total Boston townie. He hates the Red Sox and loves the Yankees. If you ask him why he'll say, " 'Cause I got tired a loosin' my lunch money on the Red Sox." He's maybe 5' tall and has one hell of a "Milwakie Special" (beer belly...just in case you were wondering) gained through hard work and thousands of dollars. I've decided to begin a compilation of some of the great Roger quotes and stories. Be forewarned that they can be a little crass at times. I don't put the truly vulgar ones.

• "Did you ever ride a jack-ass? No? Hope on yourself."
• "She was lookin' homelier than a hedgehog."
• "They'd be all over that like a duck on a june-bug."
• "When you see your old man, give him a big back-hand. Tell him it's from Roger in Boston."
• "Single women try harder."
• "Three Rings of Marriage: the engagement ring, the wedding ring, and the suffering."
• "So you wanna be a lawyer, 'eh kid? I could see dat, I could see dat. You'd be tits at that job ma' boy!"
• "Why do I like the Yankees? 'Cause I got tired a loosing my lunch money on the Red Sox."
• (If the Red Sox beat the Yankees) "You know what they call that ma' boy? Chumming the waters."
• (Speaking of Red Sox fans, from whom he generally wins 2k a year in bets) "How stupid are these people. It's like walking down the street and finding a dollar. How hard is that. I don't even have to bet that the yankees will win!"
• "You wanna bet? Huh? Huh?!"
• "You're like an empty pool table. Ya' got no balls."
• "You're a credit to this company ma' boy. Pretty soon your going straight to the top. What are the paying you now? Whatever it is, it sure as hell ain't enough. I'll tell ya dat."
• "I've done 47 years of a life sentance." (Roger has been at the company for 47 years)
• Soon to come: The story of the mother in law. My favorite.
• Also the audacious display of toenails.
• And the moment when I was shown a picture of Roger's girl.

And my favorite quote of all time:

"At my age there's not much left in life except for a good meal and a good shit."

Laugh a Little

Due to the great repore these videos have recieved (especially from my friend KMT) I am posting them here.

This one was voted best commercial in Europe.

http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=3218225083863857496&q=use+condoms

This one I watched after learning that Pavarotti had cancelled his concerts for the rest of the year.

http://www.rathergood.com/elephants/

Enjoy!

Boston. Boston. Boston

Mmmmmmm. Yesterday was the best 4th of July I have ever had. Amazing. I love this city.

Bullshit

Ok. So I promise I won't start all my blogs with a crass word. But this one just has to be "Bullshit." So I have this brother, older brother, who is not a member of the LDS church. He's a bit of an Idahoan red neck with one hell of a smoker’s voice and a history of doing socially acceptable things that would make a Mormon shudder. Incidentally, he has decided to quite smoking. He quit for one week. Being single he has sown his wild oats and now has 2 kids. Becoming a dad has settled him down quite a bit. Anyway, on with the story.

I decided to take my shotgun shooting, dirt bike riding brother to a dance competition in NY with me. Actually he was hounding me about it for weeks (I've got him hooked). So we went. Beautiful dancers were ogled and good dancing was enjoyed by all. After the competition, we went to an after party. This is where all the professional dancers get together and drink their narcissistic little hearts out. My brother and I began chatting with one such beautiful professional dancer. By the end of the conversation her lack of sobriety and lustful intentions were quite clear. I quickly ended the conversation and my brother and I left.

Now this when my perception of my brother changed. On the subway ride home, my bother began to chat about the evening as well as the drunken girl that wanted someone to warm up her lonely bed. I figured that the only reason my brother hadn't jumped on that pony and ridden was because of me. To my chagrin, I found that his position was quite on the contrary. While trying to stay awake, sitting on the hard NY metro benches, my older brother began to pass on his nuggets of wisdom to me, the naive younger brother. Like the dews from heaven...ok maybe I'm going a little too far. While nothing he said seemed truly novel to me, it was a testament to the veracity of the principles of the gospel of Jesus Christ.

He began by telling me that he knew what our drunken little dancer acquaintance was after and that he was not at all interested. "I don't do that anymore. I've had one night stands and they are not worth it." He explained that he desired to have the emotional connections with a deserving and wonderful woman. He went on to explain that none of it matters. "Family is all that matters...and the rest of the bullshit is...bullshit."

At 2am in the morning, on the red line headed for Harlem, my brother shared his testimony of one of the great truths taught in the gospel. I guess this was interesting to me, because it is great to see how values that we are given in the gospel are a grand recipe for happiness and based on truth. We may not understand all the reasons for the law of chastity, but my brother has figured out of few of them by trial and error. The gospel of Christ is true for all. I feel blessed to know the truth instead of having to figure it out blindly.

What the hell?!

Ok. So I have loads of friends who blog. And I read their blogs. And during an especially boring day at work, I have decided to find out why so many people do this blog thing. My blog will start out as a secret. Only I will read it. And maybe, just maybe, one day if this thing is interesting enough, I will open it to the hoi polloi.

The tough thing about blogging is that you actually have to come up with something to write. I have a hard enough time writing emails to known persons, let alone writing to the vast enigmatic electronic universe.

So this is it. This is me. What the hell am I doing?