The Mediocre...

Our Lazy Sunday

2011-10-18T15:26:00.003-06:00

Last Sunday found me, a very manly father, trying to find awesome stuff to do with my very awesome daughter. We made this video. Here is the video. (For you older people: Click the blue "video" button.)

I've Been a Good Little Worker Bee

2011-08-17T12:00:00.003-06:00

I am not dead. Proof? Here's a video:

My kid is awesome.

The Katy Perry/Russell Brand Machine

2011-03-31T10:05:00.004-06:00

Katy Perry has intrigued me for a while. First, when asked what her favorite Beatles song was, she said, "Happiness is a Warm Gun." Mine, too. This didn't make me like her any more, but it at least put her on my radar. I've noticed, as I have casually traipsed around this interweb, that Katy Perry is like any other pop star, i.e. she uses hot guys in her videos. This makes sense because her fans are mostly girls who like hot guys. I have wondered, however, how these sweetheart songs sung to hot guys goes over with her husband.

You see, Katy Perry is married to Russell Brand, one of my favorite comedians (though he can be pretty crude at times). Russell would be the first to admit that he does not hold a candle to the hot guys in Katy's videos. I'm sure, being a part of the media machine himself, he would fully understand that fans of Katy's music want to see hot guys and he is okay with it. But honestly, listen to "Teenage Dream" and imagine Katy singing to Russell in their house. Does that really fit?

I've had these odd thoughts with every new song Katy has released. (I listen to pop radio to see what those darn kids are listening to nowadays.) "She's singing this to Russell?" I'd think. Then, her newest release came out. "E.T." is about her love affair with an alien. Now she's pegging Russell right. It's tragic, but look at the guy. I can finally, legitimately see her singing this song to him at home. It makes me feel good that they have a song now.

But remember, I do love Russell Brand. In a not-that-way sort of way.

How the notes all bend and reach above the trees

2011-02-18T19:19:00.002-07:00

Justin Beiber has a new movie coming out, "Never Say Never." I let my mind wander over this strange title today in my Criminal Law class. (I wasn't spacing out in class. There was a very off-topic discussion going on about gun laws.) Anyway, the title of the movie, if you say it out loud, is "Say." Think about it: you are being told to never say "never." So, you shouldn't say it. The crappy thing is that the movie has "never" on both sides of "say," but you aren't allowed to say "never." So you simply say "Say."

The fun part is that you are not supposed to say the one word. You can't say "never." But the title uses the word twice to inform you. "Never Say Never." In essence, two words are used to tell you that you shouldn't say one word, so in the end you are saying no words where words exists. Sure, in print the movie's name is "Never Say Never," but in telling your friends about the new movie, it's just "Say." And this is what an English degree got me: daydreams about Justin Beiber movie titles. I'm living the life.

The State of Now

2011-01-18T12:10:00.001-07:00

Sometimes I like to listen to the radio and bemoan the state of music. No song is more annoying than the Britney Spears song "Three," yet people love it. Why? The hook? Okay, I'll give you that: the tune is easily remembered. But what about the music and lyrics? That song does absolutely nothing to showcase the talents of the guys playing the instruments, make a person think differently about song composition, or desire to apply any of the lyrics to one's philosophies of life. The song merely follows a sure-fire formula for radio success.

Please allow me this shameless plug: bands like Saves the Day, Eisley, and Brand New change the way music should be experienced, yet they get very little attention. Their songs are actually thought out, both lyrically and, especially, musically. And this is where the epiphany comes in. Bands like Brand New have a high amount of "awe" in what they do. The ability to convey emotions amongst their mad-hat approach to music is a thing of pure awe. But we don't view awe in this light with the media. If something is full of awe then it is awful. So, while Brand New may be amazing in almost every aspect of their craft, purely full of awe, they get discounted by the masses. Whereas is something has some awe to it, you guessed it, it's awesome. So mediocrity (a mere possessing of some awe) is considered cool. What then, I ask, is something completely devoid of awe? Well, to the mass media, it can only be the greatest form of entertainment ever. Yet, we don't have a word for this. This logic seems backwards but it makes complete sense. Bands like Brand New are awful (brilliant but ignored), bands like the Used are awesome (just enough mainstream in them to appeal widely), and bands like Fall Out Boy are so devoid of awe that a word doesn't exist to explain why everyone can like them yet they still make millions on a remake of a Michael Jackson song, even when the remake pales so far in comparison. This spans all forms of the media. I don't quite get it.

Of course, there are exceptions. The Killers are full of awe but still have found a place in pop culture. The same can be said of Jimmy Eat World (though their earlier catalog is almost completely ignored). As it is, oh well.

Public Complaint #1

2010-08-11T17:12:00.004-06:00

Dear Dr. Seuss,

I do not appreciate the propaganda you have been spreading in my household. I do not wish my daughter to learn the lessons you feel the need to disperse. Thank you and good day.

Signed,

One Mr. Harnish

Every morning's a new surprise

2010-07-30T13:11:00.003-06:00

Happy Birthday, Olivia! That's right, one year ago today, little Livvy graced us all with her presence. To commemorate, here is a little video that I made. (Little being the operative word, Blogger won't let me load any larger videos. Stupid Blogger.) Enjoy!

Thanks to everyone who came out to her party; it was a rousing success. We love how much Olivia's relatives have helped out this past year with Liz and I both graduating. We couldn't have raised this lovely little thing without you.

Don't let this be the end

2010-07-15T11:01:00.018-06:00

First off, I must throw out a huge thanks to my mom for snapping this picture of Olivia's fang:

Don't worry, she is growing the other three top teeth, all at the same time, so this vampire threat will be short lived.

July 1st, 2010: Ah, the last day of our Mexico trip, and what a day we had planned. We had a ten o’clock reservation with Budget for a car. Our last day would consist of driving inland a few hours to see one of the Seven Wonders of the World: Chichen Itza. These are more Mayan ruins, some of the largest in Mexico, and some of the most well preserved. Tulum was going to look like an anthill in comparison. As I said, we had a reservation, but that mung bean never showed up. Liz and I arrived just before ten and waited around an hour; no luck. On the other hand, the office was on the beach in Playa del Carmen and, even better, right by the dock for the ferry going to and from Cozumel. Liz had wanted to snorkel so badly this trip. It seemed like the more we waited for our rental car guy, the more Liz got excited about going snorkeling at Cozumel. So, we went to Cozumel.

Our first order of business was to rent a scooter. The island was small enough that we could cruise around on our own and not get lost. We zipped around the coast until we found the first of the couple recommended beaches for snorkeling. After some light snacks (cookies and crackers; this was our lunch) we headed into the water.

I’ll admit, I was a little wary of the enjoyability of snorkeling. Let me kill that for everyone: snorkeling is a fun activity. It is a great activity. It was the best thing we did on this trip. Go snorkel.

Anyway, Liz and I hit a couple beaches, some with clubs on them, others just as stretches of beach with a place to park our scooter. In each spot we saw different things, so moving from one place to another was more than just having a fun ride together, but also a way to see more fish. We saw (pardon the lack of proper names) yellow, purple, gray, brown, and fluorescent fish. We saw a few stingrays, some huge urchins, and eel, and one of those fish that lies on the bottom of the sea and blends in with the scenery (like in “Finding Nemo”). I saw this particular fish twice, but every time I tried to show it to Liz, I had lost it again.

Hitting some potholes.

A flatfish that Liz never ended up seeing. Here are some more things we saw:

Taking a break and doing some reading.

In one spot, we made a friend. I heard Liz laughing from time to time (laughing through a snorkel also sounding like screaming) and found that there was a little fish that kept swimming around me. This fish would hang out by my armpits, but when I swam the fish would jump down to my nethers, and when I would kick the fish would cruise up and hang out under my chin. It was funny when the fish did it to me, but when it switched to Liz, well, she was less than enthusiastic. She kept squealing whenever the fish did a switch from one side of Liz’s head to the next, passing right in front of her goggles. Because this fish hung around us so much, we dubbed it Olivia, regardless of its gender.

Meet Olivia!

We finished snorkeling around six-thirty and headed back in to town.

We found a little restaurant, Café Denis, and ate a simple meal, then waited an hour or so for the last ferry back to the mainland. We both read a bit, but then Liz got restless and took some pictures of the island. After the ferry ride back, we spent our last forty pesos on a colectivo to the resort. As we walked from the front gate to our room, we soaked in the sights and smells of our last Mexican night. It had been a full trip, and we loved that the best day had been the last. And we owe it all to Budget. Thanks for sucking! We wouldn’t have snorkeled without it.

More pictures:

Goodbye, Mexico.

Get up with some kids that like to get down

2010-07-10T09:54:00.008-06:00

June 30, 2010: Ah, a day of recuperation. We had a lazy morning and didn’t get out of bed until a little after eight. We Skyped with our kid, then ate some sweet breakfast burritos. (My wife spoils me.) We left the hotel around noon and planned on doing some snorkeling in Puerto Morelos, a small town just to the north of us.

Sadly, upon arriving via colectivo and taxi, we learned that the passing hurricane was still wreaking havoc on the waters. Instead, we passed our time in the town by lying on the beach and swimming in the crystal clear waters.

Side note: I put my towel down a good distance from the water because there was a line of seaweed from where the water had reached at its highest point. Liz says, “Haven’t you ever heard of the tide?”, an obvious assertion that she didn’t think the water would reach that high now because it wasn’t high tide. I stood my ground and she later followed suit. The water still reached us. It felt really good. It also felt good to have been right. Anyway, we soon left Puerto Morelos, this time by taxi and then by colectivo, and rinsed ourselves off in the private pool on our deck. Then, after lunch, we went to the pool and read for a bit. Falling asleep was easy. The day was still hot and close, and we soon found a bed by the pool (yes, a bed by the pool; and we used it properly) and fell asleep.

Who knows how long we slept. We then went in and showered and carted ourselves over to Havana Moon, a restaurant at the hotel.

Getting dressed up:
Liz and I only packed a carry-on, so dressing up looks a lot like other days

We ordered a BBQ chicken pizza and enjoyed some live music. I’ll admit that I played Galadriel to Liz’s Gimli because she asked me for a dance: I gave her three. It was the perfect ending to a very relaxing day. We retired with Evan Almighty.

Tulum'n'holes

2010-07-09T13:07:00.016-06:00

June 29th, 2010: Early risers! We woke up and caught a colectivo to Playa del Carmen, then hopped a combi to Tulum, where I got snookered out of a couple bucks because I didn’t assert my right to proper change. Regardless, Tulum was a city built on the coast and has withstood centuries of hurricanes, a true testament to ancient technology (my iPod barely made it one day of use in the humidity).

It was hot and Liz hopped into the ocean for a couple minutes. The ruins were impressive and we took plenty of pictures, the best of which was Liz kissing an iguana. (I’ll never look at her the same again.) All in all, it would have been cool seeing the city in its heyday, with all its paint and stones in tact.

A building with some original paint still showing.

After an hour or so, we walked south to a beach called El Mar Carribe. We ate lunch at a little café and then went and stretched out on the beach. We soon got into the water and loved the coolness of the afternoon.

We hopped a cab into the town of Tulum, hit a bank, and then hailed a cab and asked for a suggestion for another cenote to visit. We were thinking about a big, touristy place, but the taxi driver recommended a little place called Zacil-Ha. It was great. We were the only people there, besides a Brazilian couple. The water was clear, cool, and the abundance of trees shaded us from the sun. It was a very relaxing place.

We spent a couple hours there and expected our cab to show up at five. The Brazilian couple was expecting their cab at the same time, but neither cab showed up. Typical timekeeping in Latin America. Instead, the four of us hitched a ride back to Tulum with a gentleman just getting off work. He was drinking Dos Equis. Had Liz seen this, she wouldn’t have got in the truck. She didn’t see it. From Tulum, we caught a combi to Playa del Carmen and had dinner at Café Adrade. Chicken sandwiches and French fries with some nachos. The sandwiches were great, but Liz did not like the nachos. They had a black refried bean and cheese combo that did not please her palate. Myself? I loved them. I dig the bland Mexican style of cooking. In the end, Liz was quite impressed that I polished off the entire plate by myself. After a quick stop in Wal-mart, we caught a colectivo to the hotel and settled down with the end of The Village and the beginning of Pan’s Labrynth. Long day, and we got sunburned, but a great day.

More pics:

2010-07-08T11:52:00.013-06:00

Monday morning, Liz went out and took some lovely pictures of the hotel and seaside:

June 28, 2010: Rise and shine! Selvatica time! Liz and I were picked up at 9:45 in the morning to set out on our zip line tour. The first order of the day was learning how to do the actual zipping. Piece of cake. We harnessed up and were soon zooming through the jungle. There were some short lines and some longer lines; some fast lines and some slow lines. All in all, we wished the tour went longer (you only averaged a ten to fifteen second zip each time), but the experience was pretty cool. We went right over and through the untamed jungle. Liz and I both had a turn at zipping upside-down. Painful, yet fun. After zipping, we headed over to a cenote.

Riding in the military van to the cenote.

There is a huge underground river system in southern parts of Mexico and a cenote is an eroded spot in which the water is exposed. The Selvatica cenote was appropriately armed with a zip line. Liz and I abused that thing. I got some decent back-flips in, but we both also had our share of flops. I simply didn’t tuck my feet and got stuck on the handle. Face flop. Liz, however, simply forgot to tuck anything and body flopped.

Have you ever thrown a stick into water? The instances in which the stick hits on its side reflects the scene of Liz trying a back-flip off a zip line. Whoomp, whoomp, smack! We have video.

Don't worry, honey. You'll get it next time.

After a lunch provided by the Selvatica staff, we headed home. The afternoon still being fresh, we headed to the beach. We wanted a swim, but our beach was way too rocky. Liz had heard that a ten-minute walk north would solve this problem, so an ambling we went. We eventually came to a lovely beach with few rocks and enjoyed a post-tropical storm ocean. Remember the buckets of rain we’d received? Yup, thanks pre-hurricane Alex. The ocean was angry my friends, but Liz and I (and that other couple) stuck it out and enjoyed jumping over waves.

We got back to the hotel and vowed to take it easy the rest of the night. We lounged by the pool and read for a bit, then retired for the evening; snacked on sandwiches and watched the edited version of The 40 Year Old Virgin. Still a little crass, but not bad. Funny, but not must-see funny. Not content, we went out and had a lovely evening on the beach.

Hurricane Alex makes a cameo

2010-07-07T10:28:00.013-06:00

June 27, 2010: Sunday. Liz and I were excited to attend a ward down in Playa del Carmen. We hitched a ride with the hotel shuttle and walked the ten minutes to church in a light rain. I had my pants rolled up while Liz was wearing her yoga pants under her dress (to combat the wind’s urge to flip up her skirt).

The ward was nice. There was a group from the Sacramento area that came down and sang some numbers in sacrament meeting. Sadly, there was a man in the group that wanted to translate all the talks so the youth choir could understand. It was more a nuisance than anything else. He didn’t know all the words and so the speaker would have to repeat them. The translator soon gave up and a Mexican translator went up. She knew all the words in Spanish, she just couldn’t get them out into English as well. In the end, the speakers had free reign and could just speak. The meeting felt much better.

This was not the church we attended, but a church picture was appropriate here.

After sacrament, Liz and I braved the weather (the rain had whipped up again) and headed over to Wal-mart. We bought a gosh-dang umbrella. We headed down to Avenida 5 to check out the tourist shops and visit the beach. It was very touristy, but it was a great walk with my little lady.

We bought a very cheap lunch of pizza and soda (yup, in Mexico) and then headed down the beach. The rains still came in drizzles, and the wind was pretty persistent, but we kept on going. We found some chairs and decided to camp our buns for a while and read our books. This was short lived. The beach itself is federal property; the chairs are not. A security guard kicked us out of the chairs.

Hey, look! I found a beach babe!

We headed back to our shuttle by way of Avenida 5 and popped in a shop or two to see if there was any little trinket we could pick up. We came away with something, but not on purpose. Liz and I were walking in this one large shop and I glanced over and saw a sign that said: “Break it you buy it.” Immediately after seeing this, I hear a crash behind me: my wife had just careened into some ceramic bells. One had fallen and she picked it up and carried it with her until we were ready to leave the store. Thinking that the clerks had forgotten about my wife’s little “oopsie,” I motioned for us to leave. As soon as we stepped out, a kind, little old man followed and confronted Liz about the bell. She showed it to him; it was cracked. We shelled out 43 pesos ($3.50) and grumbled our way home. After exiting the shuttle, we went to read on our beach. After a little swim in the pools, dinner consisted of homemade quesadillas and some take-out chips and salsa from Frida’s. We then wound down with the movie In and Out. Classic Nineties fare.

Our rocky but less tempestuous beach.

Our pool with a drop-off lake view.

And tomorrow? The real adventures begin as we learn about local public transportation....

Minor setbacks

2010-07-06T09:06:00.003-06:00

June 26, 2010: We slept in for what seems like the first time in years. 9:30. Tasty. We spent the morning walking around the resort, getting our bearings. The grounds were very impressive. Pools everywhere. We went back to the room and changed, planning on spending some time by the pool reading. Our first destination was by the Caribbean. We picked out some seats on the beach with an umbrella and enjoyed some breezy reading weather. I began Willa Cather’s “My Antonia” and Liz started Emily Bronte’s “Wuthering Heights.” So far, we like them. The rain picked up (it’s been overcast both days so far), so we headed over to the pools. After putting our stuff down, we jumped in and swam during a tropical rain. After some lunch, we watched the U.S. soccer match against Ghana. “Ghana gana!” Sadness.

Watching one of the three big screen projections of the World Cup

Afterward, we had planned on hitting Puerto Morelo, but the rains intensified. Buckets of rain. If you were in the rain for two seconds then you were drenched. Supposedly, a hurricane passed by the area and we were feeling some of the effects. Liz, the ever-adventurous one, still wanted to walk the ten minutes to the bus stop (in the rain), traipse around the pueblo (in the rain), and then wait for a van back (in the rain). I talked her out of it with some pretty strong logic. It was a good thing, too. The rain was vicious. All activities were basically on hold. We ended up reading on our deck, watching the madness. To make up for my party pooping (she later stated I was right in not wanting us to go), we went out and ate at Frida, the resort’s Mexican outdoor restaurant. The chips and salsa were tasty, but the steak tacos were to die for. I don’t know what voodoo magic they used, but I dove right into that mixture of meat, chilis, and onions. The whole meal was excellent. We wound down the day watching the latest King Kong. Sorry Peter Jackson, that movie sucked.

Poolside

Seaside

Upcoming tropical storm side.

Don't worry; we'll get more Liz pics very soon.

Bienvenidos a Mexico

2010-07-05T13:03:00.004-06:00

Liz and I just returned from a trip to Mexico. It was pretty spectacular. Unbeknownst to us, however, was that Olivia would be growing a fang all that week. She surprised us with a new tooth when we got back: a top right incisor. It's adorable.

While we were gone, I kept a brief journal of our happenings. I've decided to post those general things here. Enjoy.

June 25, 2010: We woke up at five AM and arrived at the airport just before six. Our flight dropped us off in Denver, where we ate McDonalds for breakfast. (Big Breakfast? I think not.) We arrived in Cancun around 3:30 in the afternoon. The humidity was present immediately. The runway showed a jungle on both sides. Rain was coming down sporadically, which continued throughout the day. Customs and immigration went smoothly; Liz said our agent was the nicest she’s every dealt with. We got swindled out of sixteen dollars because the airport currency exchange is stupid. Well, we were stupid for buying the schtick about fees and such. Regardless, we caught our shuttle and checked in to the Grand Mayan Resort. Everyone was incredibly friendly. The first question we received from just about everyone was if Liz and I were on our honeymoon. We’ve decided that we’re just going to answer in the affirmative from here on out. The room we reserved was the closest a room can be to the pool, but we didn’t have time for that. We hopped a shuttle to Playa del Carmen to buy some groceries for our mini-kitchen. Upon arriving (after seeing a police checkpoint; their cops have machine guns), we headed in the direction of the super market. Upon finding it, we crossed the street in the hunt for a meal. It was a quick find: a little Mexican fish restaurant. The prices looked great, and the food was even better. Liz ordered shrimp tacos. They were incredible. (One of my goals this trip was to try a seafood taco.) I went out on a limb and ordered the grilled garlic fish fillet. What kind of fish? Yo no se. Was it tasty? Ay carumba! We both left the restaurant feeling deliciously satisfied. We re-crossed the street (Liz was impressed with my already acquired jaywalking skills) and commenced shopping at the Mega. I have never seen such a place. People: everywhere. Food: stacked higher than the rows. Fish: let’s just say that Kristin would never be able to eat another shrimp after seeing the mounds of dead, whole shrimp. (They were looking at me.) Once our stores were filled, we walked back to our shuttle. Upon filling our refrigerator, Liz and I winded down this whirlwind of a day with a nice Jacuzzi soak. We ended up watching Nacho Libre before bed. Not as funny in Spanish. What was funny, however, was seeing how Nacho’s song was done in Spanish. Classic.

Welcome to our room.

Welcome to our pool.

Welcome to our beach.

I've got the prettiest girl in the whole wide world and no one's gonna take her from me

2010-06-18T10:16:00.004-06:00

Look what little Miss No Movement has finally decided to start doing:

For some reason, Olivia can't get enough of my glasses. Not the skinny wire ones. Nope, my thick nerdish ones. Whatever. She can crawl now. Happy Father's Day.

Slide, slide, slippety slide; when you're livin' in the city it's do or die

2010-05-27T12:02:00.004-06:00

I was doing spot of cleaning the other day when a Coolio song from days past (long past, it's fetching Coolio) popped into my brain. Yes, it was "Fantastic Voyage", hence the blog title. Why this song came to me I will never know. Danged if that wasn't the song playing on my radio upon entering my car! What are the odds? That little known song from the early 90's being played on the radio in 2010. Amazing. Lame. Whatever. It's fetching Coolio.

Well, here's the big announcement: Livvy is cutting her first tooth. It's about time, too. We've been using teething as her excuse for bad behavior for months. Not doing well at grandma's? Oh, she must be teething. Sour puss at a restaurant? Ah, teething, for sure. Nope. She was just being a turd. The thing is, now that she is teething, she's not showing much difference in her demeanor at all. So, sorry, little Livvy, for blaming you for things. Also, sorry I called you a turd... but if the shoe fits....

Lastly, take a look at this little picture here:
Yes, my little darling is so stressed at work that she has to take her duties on the road. Cute. We actually went to St. George this past weekend and the little turd -- uh, I mean, little angel -- wouldn't nap the entire time in the car. She did great, but there was definitely a need to bust out her Baby Genius DVD. Sometimes a little kid just needs her Vinko the Dancing Bear. She was getting really into having the computer so close and mimicked her father by tapping at the keys. She really enjoyed the spacebar. She also couldn't understand why hitting the spacebar paused her movie so often. She was adorable, as usual. Keep it up, squirt. You'll be boobing out on technology soon enough. Just wait till you discover YouTube.

I am an American - You're also a silly bear

2010-04-02T15:55:00.007-06:00

Happy eight months, little Olivia. That's right, you are still alive and kicking despite the inexperience of your parents. For this mighty feat, I present this video to the world. You, however, get a nap. Night night!

It's official. We have the cutest little pooterbum in the world. Happy 8 Months, and counting...

Then why do I keep counting?

2010-03-18T12:13:00.004-06:00

The wife, I'm afraid, is becoming quite the Killers fan. And, now that she has her new car (I'm sure the family blog will soon be filled with pictures) and an easy access to a CD player, she has been listening to the boys from Las Vegas... and loving them. This pleases me. It's another band that we can freely listen to on road trips. Road trips should be a'coming. So far I've been accepted to two law schools: The University of Wyoming and the law school at La Verne, a SoCal school from my mission. If I get any more acceptance letters then I may have to hit the road and check some schools out. Anyway, thanks, Liz, for liking stellar music.

Speaking of music, Olivia is in love with her kid's music DVD. Watch this little video as I try to feed our little munchkin from every stinking angle. The girl won't even look at me!

She started dancing a little after I turned the camera off. She also dances in her jumper. Fun kid.

I was watching the news yesterday and a doctor said that the health care plan on the table is the best plan. He then said it's the only plan. If it's the only plan then it cannot be the best plan because there is nothing with which to compare it. Therefore, the health care plan is neither good nor bad because nobody can decide what it should actually be. It simply is a plan that some people like and others do not. It is not better, it is not worse. It simply Is.

Put your hands in the air if you're a player.

'81 was the year [it] hit the fan in a major way

2010-03-04T08:46:00.009-07:00

This semester has been far more enjoyable simply because I'm not taking any more of those wretched business classes. Finance and Accounting were fascinating, but the managerial crap and the Human Resources mung were things that I've already experienced by working those five years before attending college. It was tedious. Now, however, I'm in strictly English classes. My favorite, by far, is my Children's Literature class. I don't know why I never paid any mind to the classic tales as a youth, but I'm finding some of them to be amazing. Others, nope. Here's a For Instance: Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Behind the Looking Glass were very fun reads. Lewis Carol had quite the sense of humor. Many of his oddball characters spoke in such a way as to appear in riddles. Their nonsense (like that of the White King) is actually genius. The Wind in the Willows, however, I could never see reading to Olivia and her counterparts. Boring, long, and lame. One good character doesn't make up for a book-long plot of Lame. So, for those who have an interest, my recommendations for their kiddie library are thus: Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, Behind the Looking Glass, and The Wizard of Oz (even though it is incredibly bloody; the Tinman beheads forty wolves while the Scarecrow wrings the necks of forty crows). The books to skip: Peter Pan, The Wind in the Willows, and The Secret Garden. I'll admit, I loved the first twenty chapters of The Secret Garden, but then Burnet gets into a bunch of preaching about the effects of nature on the human body. It was just a little too much Christian Science being hit over my head.

Little Olivia is now convincingly sitting up. She's been able to for a while, but now she does it without all the wobbling. She stays stock still when her Wonderpets are on, but gets a little excited when toys are around and flops all over the place. Her hair is getting longer and Liz found a way to part it so that she looks less like Hitler and more like a cute little girl. She is a darling, and we love getting up in the morning to find her completely flipped around in her crib and smiling.

And for those of you wondering where my rant is, I'll let this cartoon I made catch you up on the latest things that have happened to me: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RsJClYz2_N0

Bye.

I brought down the sky for you but all you did was shrug

2010-02-04T17:28:00.008-07:00

Welcome to the Ghetto Blast. Here I am, circa 1986, with my Kid 'n Play blasting, my mullet waving, by purse hanging, and my tank top doing me wonders by being tucked in my black jeans. You say you want to achieve this level of coolness? Get in line, chump, because I've got the Monopoly square for Coolsville, and it has a hotel on it, and you owe me rent.

Last Tuesday was a good one. The boys got together to play our weekly game and we took on an undefeated team. Our stat sheet said that the opposing team had the league's high scorer. We figured that as long as we stopped that chump then we'd have a shot. Bart took it on himself to guard High Scorer Hill. Can I brag about my cousin? He shut that fool down! Hill left the game with, oh, maybe - maybe - six points. Nice work, Bart. Also, nice work, Team, for any help-defense displayed that also shut Hill down. Not only was Hill embarrassed this way, but in another. I had the hot hand this game and, as is customary, the best player on the opposing team is supposed to step up and guard the other team's "best" player. Well, this game it was me and he shouted out "I've got Number One." He trotted up to me like he was doing his team a fantastic favor in shutting me down, but he failed. Horribly. I don't think his team was used to playing people that ran as much as we do, but he was dead on his legs. Long story made shorter (you are welcome), we lost the game by two points, but we gloriously shut Hill down!

Speaking of sports, did you see the women's moguls during the Olympics? Those chicks were zooming! Even cooler, the crashes. It's like Nascar, the only reason you watch some things would be for the crashes. Those moguls looked painful as each lady careened from one bump to another.

This blog should be read as: "Ah, Willie isn't dead and he is still as fascinated with the bland as he ever was."

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! I want to declare a war.

2010-01-09T18:08:00.008-07:00

I am going to lose a lot of readers with the very first topic: sports. But stay tuned, more mind poo to come immediately after!

Holy crap, can anyone hate on the Jazz right now? Well, I can. Honestly, Memo, do you think that because everyone else is contributing that you can just coast? I understood how you lost your rhythm earlier in the season, but now? You are just passing up shots. Makeable shots. Besides this blight, the Jazz are really clicking. Passes are crisp, shots are taken at the right times, and my boys are having fun. Want proof of all this? See the opening quarter of the Portland game. Can you say, 21-2 start? I can, and it was awesome. So, Memo, let's pick up the slack and make it a 31-2 run next time (Mr. I-only-took-three-shots-the-last-game).

Okay, sports is over. At least professionally. More on that later, because for now, we're going baby talk. I don't know what I was before I was a dad, but it had to be incredibly lame. I'm constantly reminded how lucky I am to see a little face covered with prunes, fly away hairs after a morning bath, and the cutest display of squashing knuckles into tired eyes. What isn't to love about my little Olivia? Well, the fact that she's got me up three times or more the last few nights brinks on disdain, but that little girl is just getting so much leg power that she scoots herself into a dang corner! She gets her head stuck and can't move so I understand why she cries at 1 AM, and 3 AM, and 5 AM, I just don't like it.

Back to sports. I love playing ball with the brothers. We've been wanting to play in a league for over a year, but we've finally done it. The All-Star list follows:
Brother Cesar Garcia, a man who is not afraid to take the shot (which we sorely need). He gives us a solid rebounding presence and looks so good in that headband. He also fills our affirmative action policy.
Brother Nate Ross, a man who has his hands in the other team's business at all times. He probably leads our team in deflections and gets in some sweet assists. (I was on the happy end of one of his glorious passes.)
Brother Travis Betenson, a man that has lovely defensive timing. He gets blocks like a madman, even if the ref sees it differently. He is one of our top rebounders and has made a three. That's right, a three.
Brother Matt Naegle, a man who is more like a beast. He is our top big man (our only big man) and bangs around with the best of them. Matt's not afraid to take it in the paint, leading our team in a win two weeks ago with eleven points and some sweet defense.
Future Brother Caleb Mbengalfar, a man who isn't afraid to make contact and draw a foul. I don't know his last name, so that's why he's African today. He's made some clutch freethrows for us and is a spark of energy when we're getting down on ourselves.
Cousin Bart Gadbury, a man whose name is synonymous with the word "catalyst." The boy can straight up play. He is fourth in the league with points and tied for second with three pointers made. He runs us as if he were D'Antoni.
Friend Bill Okaduador, a man that does the intangibles. He blocks, rebounds, and passes like a wizard. Problem, I've seen the boy shoot in shoot around and he needs to do some in the actual game. (He's also African because I don't know his last name.)

Then there's me. How can't I be excited in playing with these guys? We're smaller than every team in the league, but we've got some dang heart. We've really started clicking of late and, after starting 0-2, have moved to 2-2. And, with three games left, we find ourselves facing a team that is undefeated and two teams that are the equivalent of this year's New Jersey Nets. (Although I hear they got a win last night... Idiots.) Regardless, we're having fun. (And since my wife would be mad if I didn't mention it, allow me to toot my own horn: we won the last game on my free throws. This was about all I made, as I missed every jump shot during the game.)

Don't leave this rock unturned 'cuz you could like what you find

2009-11-22T16:13:00.005-07:00

I drive down 7th East every day and along this route I see two things that are the same in absurdity. One occurs early on in the morning. There is a man who stands outside one of those hole-in-the-wall breakfast joints with a sign that says an early bird special is in effect. The problem is that the only guy that would volunteer to work at seven in the morning in the winter is a rather unkempt individual; a man who looks like he's missed more than a few early bird specials. Maybe they should beef this dude up so that people like me would see the sign as an indicator of good eats instead of a signal for incongruities. The same holds true for my afternoon trips down 7th East. A man walks the adjacent corner with a sign for Super Cuts. "0-15 Minute Wait" is advertised. You guessed it: the man has the longest hair in the state of Utah (not hard when half the state is bound somehow to BYU's honor code). So, instead of thinking, "I've got some long locks. Why not cut them?" I'm thinking, "Losers. Cut that dude's hair and use him as an example!" But wait! What if the man became fat, or the other got his hair trimmed? Would I have become comfortable with the flaw and therefore bitter towards the positive change? Am I happy to find joy in the flaws this world offers? Yes I am! That guy better stay sickly looking. That other guy better give DragonForce's guitarist a run for his money!

But a queen's just a pawn with a bunch of fancy moves

2009-11-06T09:17:00.008-07:00

Oh, All Hallow's Eve. The night before the aptly named All Saints Day. A time when little ghouls and goblins gather to have a laugh at parties hosted by their family. Yes, Halloween came with a bang this year. We spent a lovely, yet appropriately frightening evening, with Nate and Emily, the respective King and Queen of Halloween. (Em may not say that she's the official Queen, but when you are married to the undisputed King, well, what do you do?) I'll tell you what we did: After noshing on some sweet victuals (thanks ladies) and playing some rabid Dr. Mario, we all gathered round the old tyme nickelodeon. The light flashed from here to there as the tale of Where's My Toe? was eerily recited. I don't know if it was the delivery or merely the content, but we all had the desire to bring this tale into 2009. So, with much ado, our gang devised the concept and executed it with wanton abandon. I've included the end piece. Be warned, beware, and be thrillered.
Where's My Toe? (Disclaimer: Some parts are dark. Be patient. You will see action!)

You may have noticed that little Shelby was the only person to make an appearance that didn't get demurderlized (if I can steal a term from the Dennis the Menace movie). Way to be a wascally wittle wabbit. Here's the cast:
Farmer McFarmerson: Jessica Naegle
Mr. and Mrs. Finks: Will and Liz Harnish
Mayor: Matt Naegle
Super Family: Cesar and Sarah Garcia
Rock Family: Travis and Amanda Betenson
Town Gossip: Ma Shankula
Holy Nun: Emily Ross
Undead: Nate Ross

'Twas a fun evening, it's just too bad that our lighting was less than perfect for some of those scenes. We can at least pretend that it added to the drama and thrill, eh?

Soft and sweet

2009-10-19T10:15:00.005-06:00

I'm just going to pretend that I've never stopped writing -

I just bathed that cute little kid of mine. She is the danged sweetest thing on the planet. Olivia has started talking almost non-stop. I'll wake up at two in the morning and hear her talking to herself in the next room. She's discovered that her tongue getting in the way of her sounds makes for some funny blabber. She still loves when we whistle at her and has recently found a love for jiggling. (Not shaking. Homey don't play that game.) Here's a tiny video that I shot whilst some folks were visiting (and yes, it's two minutes of this same glorious sound):

Speaking of videos, here's the latest Ben and Willie collaboration:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uO3PUpznD14

Well, school is going great. I'm finishing up my business minor this semester. I'll be glad to have that over with. Then again, I've enjoyed some of the aspects of studying business, like marketing. I've got two English classes, as well. Contemporary Poetry, anyone? No thanks, but I had to take it. Learning is fun. Hooray for education. And now that my public service has been rendered, let's talk about Man-things:

Feelings. Feelings about men. Feelings about Brett Favre. Yes, we were all annoyed at his many indecisions, but have you seen the boy play lately? Holy crap! What a kick to watch the Vikings narrowly beat the Ravens. That was just a fun game. The second half had more scoring acuteness than any other game I've ever watched. And that kicker (after being put into such primo position) shanking the winning field goal? Loser! I'll say it: That guy is paid how much to miss such a winnable point? Yikes. It's one thing to lose on a hail mary pass, or trying to push the ball through a wall of defense, but it's quite another to be the sole guy responsible for losing the game. Do you think anyone offered any sort of condolence in that locker room? I think he cried by himself in the showers, a shunned man.

Anyone watching these baseball playoffs? I am continually amazed at how a single hit can change the entire face of a game (or how it can't). That 13 inning stretch of beauty in which both teams threatened but never capitalized was awesome. It was a battle royale. Sadly, those fetching Yankees pulled through, but you've got to admit (I have to admit) that the game was incredibly fun to watch.

Last Man-thing: We watched the Wolverine movie again. Oddly enough, it was much better the second time. "Oddly" because I loved it the first time. Well, minus the odd ending. Why did they have to climb that smoke stack? I still have that question after the second viewing, but I don't care as much. It had great action (take note, Michael Bay), great characters (great job Liev Schrieber), and Wade Wilson, everyone's favorite Merc with a Mouth. Sure, Wade eventually ends up looking like this, but we can accept that this will happen in the Deadpool movie. Nice.

So, I now sign off. Goodbye.

We are in a state of flux

2009-07-12T13:50:00.009-06:00

Liz loves this picture. Why? I don't think she realized how much I enjoy movies. I love them so much that I even attempt to make my own (which I posted previously). Here is my brother Ben and I working out the complex basketball-on-the-roof scene. Liz loves how serious I look as Ben explains an idea of his. Of course I look serious, even with my younger brother, and it's all because movie making is a serious business. The boy had some good ideas, and I think the record (or video) shows. I'm usually a really hands-on type of guy. I like being the creative catalyst in everything I do. Collaboration is foreign to me because, quite honestly, I think I have the best ideas for the best of times. I was pleasantly surprised. Ben had some sweet ideas, both in front of the camera and behind the editor's door. We had a blast for the entire shoot. In fact, we probably laughed more than we ought to have. And now for the public apology: Bart, I am sorry that we didn't call you for our little production. Now stop whining and enjoy the stupid thing!

- paragraph break -

Our Fourth of July trip was fun. I had hoped that I'd be kicking some major tail in a game of mini-golf, but alas, I am still just the world's biggest trash talker. One thing of note, however: I did manage to wedge my golf ball under the windmill and get it stuck. It's only because I smacked the side of the windmill (as opposed to safely travelling under it) and my ball bounced back that I managed to hijack the motion of the said obstacle. I obstacled the obstacle. Then I made par.

- pear of Graf break -

But, now we are home and loving it. Our nursery is finished (yup, completely) and we are just waiting on pins and needles for our little girl to show up. She is yet unnamed, but she is still just as awesome. We have all the things mounted on the walls, we have all the furniture painted and in place, we just need a baby to occupy all this work. I've got to send a big shout out of gratitude to everyone that helped us get ready for our girl. Thanks for the gifts, the time, and the advice that we've been able to hear, as well as glean, these past couple of months. I don't want to ennumerate the people because I'd definitely forget someone super duper important and be, unwittingly, in a doghouse. That's not fair to me. Or you, I guess. So, just a blanket "thanks" will suffice. Liz and I can't wait to share her with everyone.

- pair 'o graph brake -

And I guess that's it. I normally go three paragraphs of relative substance and then move on. So, until the next time, make mine Marvel.

I get carried away

2009-07-06T15:49:00.002-06:00

So, long time, eh? Well, that's what summer semesters will do to you. I have had the time, however, to visit the folks in Cheyoming. My little brother and I made a campy little video that may just give you that insight into my brain that you've always wanted... Enjoy while I try to conjure up more interesting things to actually post.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9K2-aLpFC7Q

I'd break in a town's worth of houses

2009-05-03T19:40:00.005-06:00

Has it really been a whole dang month since I posted? Yikes. I know I'm really upsetting all one of you who follow this nonsense, but allow me to repent by giving you the most satisfying blog ever.

First off, I've been kicked out of the spare bedroom. I've moved my office space to the laundry room in anticipation of making the sweetest of nurseries. Plans are still forming in regards to baby's room, but my office is slowly taking shape. Faux wood panelling, early eighties shelving systems, and a great rug make this room the sweetest of places to call my studying Home. Not only that, but the slow hum of the dryer makes my daily toils stress free. Add to that that my wife is now in the next room instead of down the hall and you've got your self a stew, baby. The cherry on top? Liz decorates the nursery, I decorate my new office. Just the way I like it. No strings attached. What a perfect situation!

Well, finals are finally here. I start Monday morning and finish Thursday afternoon. It won't be too bad, I'm just excited to get this semester over with... so I can start the summer semester in two weeks. Why am I doing this to myself? Oh yeah, because I like learning. I'm looking forward to this time next year. Yup, graduation. Since knowing Liz I've gone from fourteen credits to graduating with a BA. Two and a half years won't be bad by the time this is done, especially if I keep making this stuff up:

I was bored in my ENG 5060 class and drew up this little ditty. It's called "I'm Tired and I... I Want to Go to Bed." I had the song "Asleep" by the Smiths in my head as I drew it. I just used dots for the sky. It was a ton of fun. If this stuff is what I have to look forward to from school then keep me signed up.

On to serious business: X-Men. Yes, X-Men is incredibly serious in my family. Well, for the part of the family that I take up, which is the husband part. The X-Men movies were great. At least two-thirds of them were. The first two movies were done just right. Action, yes, but just enough camp to remind you that the movie was based on comic book characters. X-3 was a sheer disappointment. The dialogue was over the top. The action was okay at best. Too many key players died. I just didn't like it. I figured that the new Wolverine movie was going to be along the same lines. Campy. I was still determined to watch it because I have always loved that gruff persona. I grew up reading comics (still have some). Enough ramblings; I heard some of my favorite characters were gracing this movie (Wade Wilson anyone?) and became bound and determined to give the flick a chance. Not to hype it up beyond your collective wishes, but it was the best of the X-Men movies to date. Wow, I know. See it. Liz liked it; she even said she'd watch it again. The action is good but not too drawn out. The dialogue matches the tone of the movie. The characters are a bit outside the lines of their comic counterparts, but that's to be expected. All in all, sweet movie. (And if you don't think the title sequence is the coolest intro you've ever seen then you have no pulse whatsoever.)

Last thing to mention, my little nieces are incredibly adorable. I don't know how I can bring my own little girl into the world with so much already placed competition within the bounds of family. Shelby, Londyn, and Taylor are some of the prettiest little bugs to grace our planet. Then again, the kid's gonna look like Liz, so I've got all your kids toasted by default. Oh, snap! Fatherly smack talk! And completely biased. Oh well. That's all from this side of the house (you know, the laundry room side).

Fools know rules but the rest keep bouncin' back

2009-04-04T09:31:00.008-06:00

That's right, kids, "Danger beyond this point." Don't test me. You can't arrest me. I fake right and then I shoot lefty. Yes, the Beastie Boys and I want to let you know that a Zion's Park hike had the real deal on display. I don't know when I suddenly became the "real deal" (probably when I stepped beyond that sign), but it looks as if I'm legitimate and that I'm just going to have to learn to accept the fact.

On to un-lame things? Sorry, not on this mediocre blog. When I was a young man a band came out that ended up being pretty dang influential. I don't know, you may have heard of them. Nirvana, anyone? I hated them. Kurt Cobain's slurred lyrics (marvelously lampooned by Weird Al) and the super grunge sound held no appeal for me. But there was this one song.... It had the catchiest melody I'd ever heard in a rock song. I don't know where I'd heard it, but it always seemed that radios didn't play it. Maybe I heard it from Jack. Regardless, I'd always pay attention whenever a Nirvana song was played in hopes of finding out what song had me so mysteriously captivated. I never heard it. I didn't know any of the lyrics so I couldn't look it up. My horrible singing of the melody even eluded the hard corest of fans that were so eager to help me out. I was close to giving up until I heard "Grandma Take Me Home." Close, but no cigar. I did give up. Then I was looking at a bunch of band websites trying to see who had new stuff coming out soon. Straylight Run was an enigma but they did have news: they'd played a Nirvana song, "Drain You," at some of their shows and they recognized that people really liked it. So, they recorded it and offered it as a free download on their site. It's still there. If you want it you can go there and get it. I was thrilled because the song was great and Straylight Run adds some of their little flairs to it. What a great ending to an eleven year long story.

On to basketball. Here's the difference between the Jazz and everyone else in the West. The Hornets played in Miami last night and, despite being away and against D-Wade, won when it counted. The Jazz, on the other hand, let the Timberwolves (THE TIMBERWOLVES!!!) run all over them at home when it counted. I don't know how serious these Jazz players are. It's a darn good thing that we clinched a playoff spot before the Mavericks did because we could have let the Suns saunter on up and steal our spot. (Not really. Sorry Bart, but that drubbing by the Mavs was embarrassing. Hopefully we don't get the same treatment tonight.) All in all, my team just isn't as fun to watch as earlier in the season. Then: we had guys stepping up to fill in for our constant injuries. Now: we have full health and no pulse. Before we clinched I made fun of a certain advertising scheme in Salt Lake. Billboards had a picture of a Jazz player and would read, "Want Jazz playoff tickets? Buy season tickets." With the way we were playing I was convinced that we wouldn't make it and would therefore change the sign in my mind to say: "Want playoff tickets? So do the Jazz." Well, now that we're there, maybe we can step it up. Again, sorry Bart.

And I'm off to school. Back to school. Back to school. To prove to dad that I'm not a fool. I got my lunch packed up and my shoes tied tight. I hope I don't get in a fight. Oh... I'm done.

Drive-by body pierce

2009-03-18T20:12:00.010-06:00

So, here's the newest gripe: Switch to our internet because we have advanced satellite technology. Now, for the Everyman out there, just saying "technology" in your commercial gets my ears perked. Ah! Technology! This is a product! Then, add "satellite" to it, baby, you got yourself a stew! Satellite technology? Who is this witch doctor company? And how did they get around ol' Sputnik? They must be good. But wait, friends, there's more! "Advanced satellite technology!" Okay, enough is enough. Really? You've got me sold so far, but do you really need to say that it's advanced? It's a frickin' satellite! Who's going to top that? "Advanced" isn't necessary! Who are you trying to fool? And now I need to stop because I'm getting that exasperated Tom Hanks voice in my head as I type. Go ahead, read this paragraph again with the voice of Woody saying, "It's not a laser! It's little light bulb that blinks." You can use the picture of the creepy kid to help you visualize it. You could also read it with the Phil Hartman Unfrozen Caveman Lawyer voice. You decide. Choose your own adventure and then get back to me.

Oh, and as for news, I'm on Spring Break. Yes, that magical time in which I get to laze about and enjoy daytime television and Poptarts. When homework is simply something you do because you already saw this episode of "Scrubs" today. Indeed, it is a time in which your thumbs hurt because of video games. Yes, Spring Break, friends. Ahhhh! Yeah right! I've been working my tail off this week. I picked up some early shifts at work. Yikes. Never again. Getting up at four in the morning is not my cup of tea. Great work, lame hours. Maybe I can enjoy the break now?

Now the music is playing on our time

2009-02-27T09:39:00.005-07:00

Yes, we start with another cam'r'atic observation. I was walking downtown yesterday (I really like doing this) on my way to the van when I happened upon this sign in a Zion's Bank parking lot. The camera, not the lot, is under 24 hour surveillance. Why? I picture a camera pointed directly into a mirror, that way we'll know if that camera is acting up or being acted upon. What a pointless exercise! Then I noticed that the camera was actually right above the sign to the left. So, attention evil-doers! This camera has another camera perched atop some high skytower (skytower sounds more dramatic than skyscraper), waiting to swoop in like some kind of cybernetic superhero if chance happens to throw misdeeds at the surveyed camera. That must really say something about Salt Lake crime. We want to make sure that the crimes that we aren't committing aren't being seen. If this makes no sense to you then just read the next paragraph.

Oh look, the next paragraph. I guess you people that understood what I was saying gets you lumped in with those that couldn't keep up. We are all equal here at The Mediocre. Some animals are just more equal than others. (And if you can tell me that literary reference then I will mow your lawn one Saturday.) Now I'm going to pull the nerd out. Since getting the DVR going I've only really been keyed in to one show. Yes, my friends, I record every X-Men cartoon possible. I was a huge comic book collector as a kid (I still have a few, to be honest) and I loved the X-Men cartoons on Saturday mornings. Jack and I would get up and plop down in front of the TV for hours on end, knowing full well that we were just wasting time until Xavier's students graced our screen. Sure, Eek the Cat was funny, and Spider-man was interesting, and Merry Melodies was a kick in the pants, but X-Men was the end-all for us. Suprisingly enough, it seems to have had more merit than the movies, as the cartoons were ripped straight from existing comic story lines. I think that's why I'm so into them now. They bring back two memories: fun times with Jack and great stories that I used to know so well. They have also recently began a series called Wolverine and the X-Men. This show is cool because it sort of follows the Marvel vein of What If? comics from the early nineties. Wolverine is in charge in Xavier's absence and the dynamic is really fun.

Wow, I told you I was getting the nerd out. Now go get your nerd out and enjoy it.

It's time to sound off for Chesterfield

2009-02-15T11:24:00.003-07:00

So, my wife is off to church and I'm left at home with my ill feeling stomach. I blog. With my stomach causing me such pains I'm left with quasi-bitter thoughts about SUVs. Actually, the bitter thoughts are about the fools who drive them. When I see commercials for these vehicles it is usually to the effect that SUVs are one step short of Superman. They can take pot holes as deep as Hades, forde streams like no caulked Oregon Trail wagon ever did, and even climb buildings. Yet, for all the wonders these wonder vehicles can wonderfully do why is it that the owners can't take a speed bump like an SUV driver from the commercials? You bought the thing so that when you are camping in the tundra you can drive off a cliff and paraglide your vehicle to the perfect spot, yet you can't go more than three miles an hour into your driveway? You can run over trees to make firewood, but you can't take that vicious speed bump at a friendly pace? But Willie, I need to haul a bunch of crap to various locations. SUVs help me be the perfect soccer mom. I think that's why people drove station wagons and minivans. You see a station wagon crawl over a speed bump and you think: That makes sense, any faster and that vehicle would fall apart! But an SUV? No excuse. None. Take that speed bump faster and stop making me late for school.

Here's a random quote from my wife (she just got home and made me feel better): "Men need to talk to women to really say anything of importance." Why did she need to say this? Well, men don't really get into serious talk unless a girl is around. Girls talk about the effects of death, new jobs and how it will play into the fiscal future, the smells of babies, and so on. Men talk about their latest video game struggles and how bad their last burp tasted. I can't tell you how many times I've told my wife that brother Travis is really good at Guitar Hero but how I don't know how his job has treated him lately. I can report to her that friend Nate is really interested in Vampire Weekend but I can't tell her what he actually does for a living. Luckily for her she can pull some pretty decent conversation out of me, and that is where her quote came from.

And that is ultimately why I love my wife: she hears my rants and gets me to talk straight when it matters. So, to her, happy post-Valentine's Day.

Now we've come to the end of the road

2009-02-02T21:51:00.007-07:00

Good gracious, who are these men among men? Who in all their right minds would attempt the jumping of such monstrous machines? Why chance the already packed snow if one should fall? And the most important question of all: Why didn't they do this in front of their wives? I don't have the answers to all of these questions (except the first one: I'm on the left and Travis is on the right), but I do know that such hasty decisions can be made by men at the drop of a hat. Here was our thinking: "Hey, that looked like a fun little hill." "Yeah, let's go jump it." "Cool." "I brought a camera." "Cool, that means I get to jump first." "Cool." **Proceed to the jumping.** We did manage to get some video of the events, but the battery ran out after Nate's dismal, er, wreck? No, it wasn't that bad to call it a wreck. It was a total wipeout. Not a wreck, but a wipeout. Sad day for us all because the rest of our sweet jumping went unchronicled (except for that marvelous recording device in our heads; here's to beating the both of you with my chin).

On to things that no one cares about. I sometimes walk around downtown between the various train stops. One sidewalk boasts this painted message:

Now, I've got nothing against trusting Jesus (in fact, I'm all for it), but I do have a problem with someone breaking the law in order to get others to do so. Is there really some self-righteous pundit sitting in their favorite pew on whatever Sabbath they keep that thinks that tagging a Salt Lake sidewalk has helped them "spread the message"? Come on! When Jesus wrote on the walks of his town he made sure that they were in the dirt! Easy to be read, just as easy to erase, therein being sure to render Caesar his due while rendering the Father's likewise. Graffiti is not the works that will get you into heaven, my friend.

Well, I'm done rambling. I sure do love it. I'm off to study more, because that is what I should have been doing all along. Word.

Even if I stayed things just wouldn't be the same

2009-01-08T15:41:00.002-07:00

It's true, Liz and I are having a child. Exciting, fun, but also a little frustrating. No, I'm not talking about moodiness, cravings, odd body pains; no, I'm referring to how we were going to tell everyone. Neither of us knew of a way in which we could tell all four sets of parents in a uniform way, so we just came up with our own for our own. We did, however, start out with a control. We both decided to use Christmas as our outlet and we would use a baby onesie for our prop. Liz did her own special thing for her parents and I wrote a poem for mine. Here's how it went down: I wrote a poem that they had to read before they opened their present. The contents will follow and you will see how the poem had nothing to do with a baby. I didn't want to give them a single clue. By the time they got to the end they would be one line short. They were to open the present to get that last line. (The poem is in ABAB.)

"It's Christmas Day and we all know that it is time for us all to be merry.
When I say "Be Merry" I don't mean "Be Mary" because we've already plenty of those.
Besides, all us men would have to cross-dress and we know that would be far to scary.
So we'll let the Marys be Merry and the Shelbys be Merry and continue along with the prose.

A bit further to delve, as I check myself, because I want to be perfectly clear:
When I say "Merry Time" I don't mean "Maritime" for that would make far little sense.
It would surely be odd to bring up seafaring in the most wonderful time of the year.
So, pirates aside, you can be quite sure that I shall never mention them hence.

So now that our phrase has been quite defined we'll move on to the grand conclusion.
We love you and hope you've had cause to be merry and we're glad we've a gift to supply.
Now rip off the paper and peak inside to find the end of this crazy narration..."

Parent opens to see the onesie and the final line

"You can't keep it long, we'll need it right back 'cause WE'RE HAVING A KID IN JULY!!!"

My dad thought that I was giving him the Pirates Trilogy or something. It was a lot of fun because we coordinated opening the gift with each parent. Of course, Oklahoma and Wyoming were on the phone, but it was still enjoyable. I will say, however, that Momma Kitty opened hers before we could call. Blast that impatience! Sister Ellie guessed beforehand, but other than those two hitches things went smashingly.

That's all for now. Watch the Sooners tonight. You know I'm already wearing my hat, shirt, and hoodie! Boomer!

Don't call it a comeback

2009-01-04T13:49:00.005-07:00

This picture purely exemplifies the adage that a picture is worth a thousand words. It may not look like much, but when I see this simple thing I can envision a 16 hour work day. I see a man finishing his graveyard shift only to be told that the morning crew can't handle all the people coming in and out of the establishment. I see credit card machines going down, 500 hundred people leaving a hotel, 650 entering the hotel, and two co-workers leaving for fifteen minutes as this tired man fills their frivolous vacancy. I also see a lack of bellmen, parking spaces, and standing room in a lobby. I see useless management (they don't know the system), new hires with thick accents (hindering more than helping, I dare say), and frustration coming to a boil. Ah, but then the clouds part and a free meal is granted. I dare say that I chose Chef Duke to make me up some almond French toast with a fruit plate on the side. The meal alone would have been enough to make up for the inconveniences of the day, but then I found this blueberry with a raspberry 'fro. I don't care what kind of day you are having: finding a 'froberry makes everything better in the world. Try it out yourself.

Some football musings and then I'll call it a day:
First off, Utah at Alabama was amazing. (Don't tell me that it was on a neutral field! Alabama is situated far closer to New Orleans than Utah.) The fact that we scored more in the first half than Bama did in the whole game was a feat in itself, but also that we continued to push the ball later in the game. Sure, not as ferocious as that first half beatdown (you could also substitute the words "murder-fest" and "cremation") but still impressive. Oh, and who made all their field goals? And who had the stunning stat of eight sacks in one game? You may say that eight sacks has happened before, but has it happened against a team that had held the number one spot for five weeks? I think not, Poindexter. For Utah (who clearly won the game, regardless of what critics and commentators and their sporty spin doctors may say) it was a brilliant argument for who should be number one in the country.

Then again, I'm stepping on my own toes here. Oklahoma is number one and I dang well think they should stay there. I don't believe for one second that this Utah team could beat what Oklahoma is playing with. How will we know? We can't. The system doesn't allow for a playoff, simply a playsing. Er, placing. The rankings show their flaws this year by having two one-loss teams playing for the National Championship while loss-less Utah merely gets a "Hey, way to beat the BCS system" pat on the back. Again, my Sooners are number one, but how cool would it be to have that final play off? Very cool. Sam Bradford v. Brian Johnson. Bob Stoops v. Kyle Whittingham. Come on! Let's all dream on together because it'll take years to change the system. But maybe, just maybe, Utah can get some respect and get what they hopefully will deserve next year.