Wednesday, December 07, 2005
Fun in the Snow
Yesterday was the first big snowstorm of the last two years and I had to get stuck in the parking lot at work. The more I tried to get out of the driveway, the more my tires spun and the more I was sliding into some parked cars. I was about a foot away from a car when I decided to quit. A nice guy tried to push me out. He succeeded in getting me to go straight but then I stalled again. He said, "What's the matter? Don't you have a 4-wheel drive?" I replied, "No, this is a California truck." So he told me to go downhill and wished me luck. I called Dad and he came. He got in the driver's seat and I walked around to the passenger seat. I slipped on the ice and landed flat. My day was going from bad to worse. We left my truck at work and crawled home in the Jeep. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
Sunday, November 27, 2005
Another Bus Story
This is my second attempt at this blog. After typing for about 45 minutes I was ready to publish my thoughts… Some how during a spell check I lost the whole thing.. Therefore, understand that the second attempt will not be as good as the first. At least that is my excuse.
Also, I hope you do not tire of another bus trip saga. I lack the creativity of Sam and the vocabulary of Chad so feel already that my first attempt at this blog writing will be lacking in several respects. Anyway, here goes:
A few weeks ago I decided to do the fatherly thing and help Mike and Sam move back to Salt Lake. I had a vacation day to use and thought this was a good use of it. Anyway, after checking the cost of various fares, I decided to take the bus rather than fly. When I told one of my co-workers I was going on the bus he said “You will have a cultural experience.” I though, “How bad can it be?” and anyway this would give me a chance to work on my Book of Mormon reading…. For the in-laws, I don’t read anything much except stuff for work. When I tried to read the Book of Mormon last spring, on the trip with Chad and Jenn, I fell asleep before finishing the second chapter. So for the current challenge I decided that if I listened that would be close enough. Therefore five hours with the BOM would get me a long way.
Enough for background, now for the real deal… Grace dropped me off about 7:00 AM at the new terminal in SLC. I thought this is really great and went in with excitement almost forgetting to say good-by. When I got to the ticket counter I had my first hesitation. The lady behind the counter had a name tag on, but it was one of those with the name written in pencil on a piece of paper and taped on a tag that must have been used for everyone. Plenty of spare tape was evident. I questioned if she was going to steal my identity when I gave her my confirmation number from the internet, and she still wanted to see my credit card. You see, even if you buy tickets on line, you are not guaranteed a seat on the bus. There were clearly more people in the waiting area that would fit on one bus so I thought maybe there had to be some type of payoff. She did not say anything after looking at the information and gave me the boarding pass. (I later found out there was a bus headed north at about the same time and most of the people were getting on that bus.
I headed back to the waiting area and since there were limited seats, found the area that I thought was the least intrusive on others. I sat about two seats away from a man that looked quite normal for the bus station, and started getting my CD player ready to work. About that time he leaned over and asked my name. “Jim” I replied, and he started laughing. He just kept laughing and then started talking to himself too. As others looked at me I understood why that seat was empty. Not wanting to be impolite, I figured my best excuse was to find the restroom and get “ready” for the trip. At least it got me away from the laugher.
When I got back to the waiting area, I found a place on the floor for a while, then outside with the smokers, then back to the floor to wait for the bus to leave. At least I thought I was safe on the floor, not to far from the public telephones. As I was settling in against the wall for a back rest there starts this crying and yelling from a grown man. He was on the phone and everyone was watching when he slammed the receiver and went running out of the station. I decided my cultural experience was beginning. About that time the security guard started asking people to get in line for security check. There was not way he could keep track of who he checked, but it seemed like all were willingly subjecting themselves the a full body search. Well, not really. He had some type of wand that was a little bigger than Harry Potter’s sorcerer wand and he seemed to be trying to check for metal on people. He would also check carry on bags. When it was my turn he must have been tired because he did not even check either of my bags. That is good because I don’t like people handling my underwear.
We finally got on the bus and I was luck enough to find two seats that I could have to my self. I got the BOM going and was enjoying listening and watching the scenery outside that I never noticed when I drive. Every thing was cool until we reached our first stop, Provo. At that stop I started watching people. The first issue was finding places for the people getting on. One lady walked the entire length of the bus three times looking for a seat the finally asked the security guard on the bus if she could sit by him. He gave her a very gruff “NO” and she finally sat next to an older man. (She could have used tow seats her self) You ask why she did not sit by me? Well, just before she got on an oriental couple got on and because everyone else was too rude to stop sitting on two seats the lady sat next to me and her companion sat across the isle from her. I thought I had it made since she was not too big until she got out her knitting needles. Honest, they were at least two feet long and had been filed to a point sharper than a needle. I wondered how they got by the security check for knifes and weapons! Needless to say I scooted as far away as possible and tried not to make eye contact.
As we traveled down the road, and I became involved with the proceeding of the BOM, I started to notice some of the people in the bus. The following is a brief summary of my observations:
The 20 or 30 or 40 something girl that I prayed would not sit next to me. (She had tried to start a conversation in the bus terminal, but I had to go to the bathroom again.) She had no front teeth, her shirt was too short and she suffered from midriff hangover. She was defiantly friendly with whoever would look her way, but it turns out she may have been the most normal.
The two guys right in front of me must have had a thing for each other. Thank goodness I could not see through the seats. It just seemed like one head with a stocking cap kept trying to get closer to the other head with a stocking cap, the whole time playing like they were asleep.
In front of them was the cowboy and his girl. Normal enough if cowboys wear black converse tennis shoes with a white hat that covers all the hair except a pony tail that was about 10 inches long.
In the very back was a hiker. Hitch hiker that is, who had a back pack bigger than me. When he carried it he would walk with his body parallel to the ground and moan the whole time he was moving.
Back and to the right was one of the gangster rappers. I was not about to point out to him the sign in the bus that said to play audio devices very quietly. I decided rap is a good back ground for listening to the BOM.
In front of him is the usual east LA dude with his hat sideways etc.
Continuing the move forward is a normal looking older man sharing a seat with another lady three times his size. Strangers to each other, since she got on in Provo they seemed to carryon regular conversations except when her cell phone would ring. Again a sign that said “turn off Cell Phones”
Then there was this old man that they had to help on at the terminal, and he may have been terminal. I don’t think he knew who he was or where he was. Maybe our city fathers bought him a ticket to get him out of town.
Then the Greyhound security guard that slept the whole way to St George. He looked mean enough, but a take over would have been finished before he woke up.
By the time I had changed my CD a couple of times we were in Parowan for the obligatory stop for lunch. Very interesting… Some of the things I discovered include that the slick paper used for sitting on in public restrooms can work for TP as well. It just takes some extra effort. Since most of the people were headed to Vegas, I decided to buy the bottle of Dr Pepper that guaranteed a chance to win $1,000,000. False advertising!!!!!
Since all the seats inside were being used, I decided to eat my Taco Bell burrito outside. First I move from the pollution zone created by all the smokers to an area closer to the bus. I am standing there contemplating if I was the only normal person on the bus when the one man that I held out hope for walked over and we started to talk. “Where are you going, etc the normal small take. I say to myself.. “A normal man” so I decide to practice my socializing skills that I encourage some of my children to work on. My second question after where are you headed was, “What are you going to do in Vegas, Gamble?’ He says.’ No first I will try to find a place to stay, then tomorrow I am going to the air show.” Is that a good show? I ask. To which he replies something about hoping they bring out the stuff from AREA 51. If I remember from that classic historical film “Independence Day” Area 51 is where all the aliens are studied. He said they brought out some stuff two years ago and he is hoping for more this time…. I am saved by the bus driver returning to the bus and me saying I need to get back on.
The rest of the way I tried to speed up the BOM but that did not work. I kept away from the knitting needles and prayed I did not have to go to the bathroom. Finally, St George and I was glad to trade places with the people waiting in back of the McDonalds to get on the bus. I though I had experienced diversity, but alas this was a new cultural experience I shall not soon forget.
Also, I hope you do not tire of another bus trip saga. I lack the creativity of Sam and the vocabulary of Chad so feel already that my first attempt at this blog writing will be lacking in several respects. Anyway, here goes:
A few weeks ago I decided to do the fatherly thing and help Mike and Sam move back to Salt Lake. I had a vacation day to use and thought this was a good use of it. Anyway, after checking the cost of various fares, I decided to take the bus rather than fly. When I told one of my co-workers I was going on the bus he said “You will have a cultural experience.” I though, “How bad can it be?” and anyway this would give me a chance to work on my Book of Mormon reading…. For the in-laws, I don’t read anything much except stuff for work. When I tried to read the Book of Mormon last spring, on the trip with Chad and Jenn, I fell asleep before finishing the second chapter. So for the current challenge I decided that if I listened that would be close enough. Therefore five hours with the BOM would get me a long way.
Enough for background, now for the real deal… Grace dropped me off about 7:00 AM at the new terminal in SLC. I thought this is really great and went in with excitement almost forgetting to say good-by. When I got to the ticket counter I had my first hesitation. The lady behind the counter had a name tag on, but it was one of those with the name written in pencil on a piece of paper and taped on a tag that must have been used for everyone. Plenty of spare tape was evident. I questioned if she was going to steal my identity when I gave her my confirmation number from the internet, and she still wanted to see my credit card. You see, even if you buy tickets on line, you are not guaranteed a seat on the bus. There were clearly more people in the waiting area that would fit on one bus so I thought maybe there had to be some type of payoff. She did not say anything after looking at the information and gave me the boarding pass. (I later found out there was a bus headed north at about the same time and most of the people were getting on that bus.
I headed back to the waiting area and since there were limited seats, found the area that I thought was the least intrusive on others. I sat about two seats away from a man that looked quite normal for the bus station, and started getting my CD player ready to work. About that time he leaned over and asked my name. “Jim” I replied, and he started laughing. He just kept laughing and then started talking to himself too. As others looked at me I understood why that seat was empty. Not wanting to be impolite, I figured my best excuse was to find the restroom and get “ready” for the trip. At least it got me away from the laugher.
When I got back to the waiting area, I found a place on the floor for a while, then outside with the smokers, then back to the floor to wait for the bus to leave. At least I thought I was safe on the floor, not to far from the public telephones. As I was settling in against the wall for a back rest there starts this crying and yelling from a grown man. He was on the phone and everyone was watching when he slammed the receiver and went running out of the station. I decided my cultural experience was beginning. About that time the security guard started asking people to get in line for security check. There was not way he could keep track of who he checked, but it seemed like all were willingly subjecting themselves the a full body search. Well, not really. He had some type of wand that was a little bigger than Harry Potter’s sorcerer wand and he seemed to be trying to check for metal on people. He would also check carry on bags. When it was my turn he must have been tired because he did not even check either of my bags. That is good because I don’t like people handling my underwear.
We finally got on the bus and I was luck enough to find two seats that I could have to my self. I got the BOM going and was enjoying listening and watching the scenery outside that I never noticed when I drive. Every thing was cool until we reached our first stop, Provo. At that stop I started watching people. The first issue was finding places for the people getting on. One lady walked the entire length of the bus three times looking for a seat the finally asked the security guard on the bus if she could sit by him. He gave her a very gruff “NO” and she finally sat next to an older man. (She could have used tow seats her self) You ask why she did not sit by me? Well, just before she got on an oriental couple got on and because everyone else was too rude to stop sitting on two seats the lady sat next to me and her companion sat across the isle from her. I thought I had it made since she was not too big until she got out her knitting needles. Honest, they were at least two feet long and had been filed to a point sharper than a needle. I wondered how they got by the security check for knifes and weapons! Needless to say I scooted as far away as possible and tried not to make eye contact.
As we traveled down the road, and I became involved with the proceeding of the BOM, I started to notice some of the people in the bus. The following is a brief summary of my observations:
The 20 or 30 or 40 something girl that I prayed would not sit next to me. (She had tried to start a conversation in the bus terminal, but I had to go to the bathroom again.) She had no front teeth, her shirt was too short and she suffered from midriff hangover. She was defiantly friendly with whoever would look her way, but it turns out she may have been the most normal.
The two guys right in front of me must have had a thing for each other. Thank goodness I could not see through the seats. It just seemed like one head with a stocking cap kept trying to get closer to the other head with a stocking cap, the whole time playing like they were asleep.
In front of them was the cowboy and his girl. Normal enough if cowboys wear black converse tennis shoes with a white hat that covers all the hair except a pony tail that was about 10 inches long.
In the very back was a hiker. Hitch hiker that is, who had a back pack bigger than me. When he carried it he would walk with his body parallel to the ground and moan the whole time he was moving.
Back and to the right was one of the gangster rappers. I was not about to point out to him the sign in the bus that said to play audio devices very quietly. I decided rap is a good back ground for listening to the BOM.
In front of him is the usual east LA dude with his hat sideways etc.
Continuing the move forward is a normal looking older man sharing a seat with another lady three times his size. Strangers to each other, since she got on in Provo they seemed to carryon regular conversations except when her cell phone would ring. Again a sign that said “turn off Cell Phones”
Then there was this old man that they had to help on at the terminal, and he may have been terminal. I don’t think he knew who he was or where he was. Maybe our city fathers bought him a ticket to get him out of town.
Then the Greyhound security guard that slept the whole way to St George. He looked mean enough, but a take over would have been finished before he woke up.
By the time I had changed my CD a couple of times we were in Parowan for the obligatory stop for lunch. Very interesting… Some of the things I discovered include that the slick paper used for sitting on in public restrooms can work for TP as well. It just takes some extra effort. Since most of the people were headed to Vegas, I decided to buy the bottle of Dr Pepper that guaranteed a chance to win $1,000,000. False advertising!!!!!
Since all the seats inside were being used, I decided to eat my Taco Bell burrito outside. First I move from the pollution zone created by all the smokers to an area closer to the bus. I am standing there contemplating if I was the only normal person on the bus when the one man that I held out hope for walked over and we started to talk. “Where are you going, etc the normal small take. I say to myself.. “A normal man” so I decide to practice my socializing skills that I encourage some of my children to work on. My second question after where are you headed was, “What are you going to do in Vegas, Gamble?’ He says.’ No first I will try to find a place to stay, then tomorrow I am going to the air show.” Is that a good show? I ask. To which he replies something about hoping they bring out the stuff from AREA 51. If I remember from that classic historical film “Independence Day” Area 51 is where all the aliens are studied. He said they brought out some stuff two years ago and he is hoping for more this time…. I am saved by the bus driver returning to the bus and me saying I need to get back on.
The rest of the way I tried to speed up the BOM but that did not work. I kept away from the knitting needles and prayed I did not have to go to the bathroom. Finally, St George and I was glad to trade places with the people waiting in back of the McDonalds to get on the bus. I though I had experienced diversity, but alas this was a new cultural experience I shall not soon forget.
Dream on...
No one cares what your dream was about, period.
No matter how interesting you think your dream is, it really won’t intrigue most people (this, of course, excludes the Dream Doctor on the radio, from whom I had to ween Jenn last year, and of course, Martin Luther King Jr.).
Have you ever had anyone ask a follow-up question to your dream? Through anecdotal evidence, the answer is ‘no’ 98 percent of the time. But what do we do—we keep on sharing our dreams with family members, co-workers and even strangers. Why do we share our dreams with other people when we don’t really listen (or care) when someone approaches us with, “Hey, I had this weird dream last night.” Which reminds me…
I had a pretty weird dream last night:
I boarded the bus at the Park & Ride nearest our house. I know I wasn’t going to work because I was wearing Jeans and a T-shirt. It looked like a normal bus with your normal bus people: the lady holding her purse like it contains a winning lotto ticket; the guy with the headphones but no player; the guy looking around just waiting for someone to look at him so he can tell them about the “$7,000 shot I had to get for my dog and if you want a pet, you’d better start saving now because they deserve every penny.”
After sitting there for a time, the main Park and Ride manager came on the bus, walked right toward me and said, “We are short of drivers; can you take the route today?” Simply put, I was astonished. I had been riding the bus for a mere month and a half and already I was being given the responsibility of a lifetime. I would be responsible for getting people to their jobs, doctors’ appointments, university classes, and even scheduled drug deals. I looked around, astonished that no one protested. Of course I said yes!
The next thing I know, I find my way to the driver’s seat, pull out some pilot glasses (no joke) and start heading down the road. Everything is going fine and dandy for the first 5 or 6 stops until I realize my brakes aren’t working that good—I have to slam on them really hard and even then I don’t really stop for about 3 seconds. I finally decide to call in the problem and I demand that they send out another bus to me. Now, I’m normally not a bossy guy; I don’t know if it was newfound stewardship or the pilot glasses, but my bus riders needed me—their deadlines were now my deadlines. Needless to say, we were left waiting, stranded out by a bowling alley I have never seen, on a street that doesn’t exist. I wish I could tell you that I finished my route with courage and integrity, and that I rented a rickshaw or something, but alas, I woke up as we were all heading into the bowling alley for a couple of games.
Moral of the story: Do not eat three bowls of Taco Soup right before bedtime.
No matter how interesting you think your dream is, it really won’t intrigue most people (this, of course, excludes the Dream Doctor on the radio, from whom I had to ween Jenn last year, and of course, Martin Luther King Jr.).
Have you ever had anyone ask a follow-up question to your dream? Through anecdotal evidence, the answer is ‘no’ 98 percent of the time. But what do we do—we keep on sharing our dreams with family members, co-workers and even strangers. Why do we share our dreams with other people when we don’t really listen (or care) when someone approaches us with, “Hey, I had this weird dream last night.” Which reminds me…
I had a pretty weird dream last night:
I boarded the bus at the Park & Ride nearest our house. I know I wasn’t going to work because I was wearing Jeans and a T-shirt. It looked like a normal bus with your normal bus people: the lady holding her purse like it contains a winning lotto ticket; the guy with the headphones but no player; the guy looking around just waiting for someone to look at him so he can tell them about the “$7,000 shot I had to get for my dog and if you want a pet, you’d better start saving now because they deserve every penny.”
After sitting there for a time, the main Park and Ride manager came on the bus, walked right toward me and said, “We are short of drivers; can you take the route today?” Simply put, I was astonished. I had been riding the bus for a mere month and a half and already I was being given the responsibility of a lifetime. I would be responsible for getting people to their jobs, doctors’ appointments, university classes, and even scheduled drug deals. I looked around, astonished that no one protested. Of course I said yes!
The next thing I know, I find my way to the driver’s seat, pull out some pilot glasses (no joke) and start heading down the road. Everything is going fine and dandy for the first 5 or 6 stops until I realize my brakes aren’t working that good—I have to slam on them really hard and even then I don’t really stop for about 3 seconds. I finally decide to call in the problem and I demand that they send out another bus to me. Now, I’m normally not a bossy guy; I don’t know if it was newfound stewardship or the pilot glasses, but my bus riders needed me—their deadlines were now my deadlines. Needless to say, we were left waiting, stranded out by a bowling alley I have never seen, on a street that doesn’t exist. I wish I could tell you that I finished my route with courage and integrity, and that I rented a rickshaw or something, but alas, I woke up as we were all heading into the bowling alley for a couple of games.
Moral of the story: Do not eat three bowls of Taco Soup right before bedtime.
Saturday, November 12, 2005
An End to My Six Month Sabbatical
Before I get into my blog topic: A wild rumor I heard through the proverbial grapevine:
In lieu of a talent night for Christmas as we have done in the past, we will be holding a celebrity look-alike contest: Clint showing up as Carrot-Top and Nick is coming as George Carlin. Can’t wait…
Moving on…
On Wednesday night I did something for the first time in six months. It required patience, long-suffering and a little bit of motivation. No, I’m not talking about going to church. I’m talking about basketball, which I guess is going to church seeing as how we played in the cultural hall. Anyway, to commemorate my first step on the hardwood (or church carpet in this case), I kept a running diary of the event.
8:32 pm – Mutual is officially over. About five or six guys are in the cultural hall already waiting for all the kids to get out of the way. Normally I wouldn’t give it much thought but it piqued my interest in two ways. First, it reminded me of the invite I got from one of my home teachers, who is a regular for Wednesday night basketball. Second, I brought some shoes in the car that I could always change into.
8:40 pm – I make the decision to get my shoes and shorts out of the car. The shoes are vintage 2000 Nikes, gray and blue with absolutely no ankle support. The shorts are my shin-length brown cargo shorts with approximately seventeen different pockets. For what? No idea.
8:46 pm – I make myself onto the court. By now, the number of players has grown to about 13. The reason I love playing church basketball, besides seeing players look toward the stage for NBA scouts, is that there are so many different types of players. I will give a small list of some of the players involved this Wednesday:
Jean Shorts Guy: Most of us have played with this guy. He often completes his outfit with his hat backward. He will shoot the ball with little or no provocation. The only thing different about this guy is that he wore his cap facing toward, which is good I guess when the sun is in your eyes.
Walking-Endorsement Guy: Complete opposite of Jean Shorts Guy (skills, however, may be comparable). This player has $200 Nikes. Of course, he usually doesn’t wear them to the gym—walking on the street or sidewalk between his parking spot and the court may somehow hurt his $200 shoes thereby hindering his performance.
Uncle Rico Guy: You know what I mean…
Normal Guy: This guy plays basketball every once in a while. He will box out but won’t throw any elbows. He usually doesn’t wear expensive hightops and probably wouldn’t play in Vans or Birkenstocks; he’s usually wearing some kind of cross-trainer (If you couldn’t guess, this is me).
Note: Every single player will have won their Stake Basketball Championship.
8:56 pm – Obviously we’re not playing 5 on 5 due to the size of the court (smaller than Madera), so well have to shoot for teams. I’m the last guy to shoot and thanks to the 5,000 free throw shots I took my Freshman year in High School, I put it right through the net. A quick observation tells me that a lot of these guys have played together already. My team is comprised of three Normal Guys and one Normal Guy/Uncle Rico Guy. The other team has two Walking-Endorsement Guys and Two Normal Guys.
8:58 pm – My first knee carpet burn of the night.
9:06 pm – I’ve made two baskets, and both of them were from offensive rebounds. We’re up 7-3 and we’re playing to 11. I start wondering when my heart is going to explode. I feel like I swallowed a bottle of lighter fluid, ate three cans of Kidney beans and swallowed a match…all after eating Dad’s gumbo. I keep having to remind myself that the last time I ran was six months ago.
9:07 pm – I can tell that my simple box out is really frustrating a guy on the other team. He just got off his mission and he doesn’t like the fact that he can’t out-rebound the hump (aka my barrel-chested back and chest). So on this next trip down, I get a pass on the left wing, fake middle, start going baseline (I’ve got the guy beat) and then he pushes me from behind with two hands. Anyway, he turned and walked away. It was then that I realized I was playing with the fifth type of player—The-It’s-Not-Just-a-Game Guy. Needless to say, I lost a lot of respect for him.
9:15 pm – We won the game, 11-8. It wasn’t pretty but my legs stayed under me for pretty much the whole game and luckily I didn’t have to guard any sweaty guys with their shirt off. My stats for the game:
4 Field Goals
3 Steals
2 Blocks
78 Rebounds
1 near Respiratory Failure
9:18 pm – The next team steps on the court. This team is made up of one It’s-Not-Just-a-Game Guy, one Jean Shorts Guy and two Walking-Endorsement Guys (And yes, they did put on their basketball shoes after they got to the gym).
9:26 pm –We’re losing 8-3. Our guys are sucking wind more than a new Oreck. I’m beginning to realize that they have yet to pass to the JS Guy; and this is probably affecting the outcome. Of course this doesn’t stop our Zone Top-of-the-Key defender from practically running a box and one on him. I think he guards him so it makes him look good. It’s like me saying I studied my swimming final twice as long as my Physics exam just so I could get an A in swimming instead of a B plus in Physics.
9:27 pm – I’m posting up one of the guys at the top of the key (which is pretty much the half-court line anyway). Finally with nowhere to go, I attempt a turnaround fade-away. Now, it would be easy to assume that turn-around fade away skills might run in the family. Well, according to the errancy of the shot (airball), it looks like Dad kept that attribute to himself. I don’t even know why I tried to equal his prowess.
9:32 pm – Well, we lost 11-6. It wasn’t a very defensive minded game on our side. They did, however, keep trying to pass over the top of me, which led me to have about 6 steals. You would think they would learn after the first two or three times. I just don’t think they expected me to have a 36-inch vertical (if you count my outstretched arms).
9:35 – 9:45 pm – The team we lost to beat a team with two JS Guys. You just knew they were going to lose right off the start. Anyway, I made another free throw and started with a fresh team.
9:47 pm – About a minute and a half into the game, I went up for my 59th put-back try on an offensive rebound and came down hard on my ankle on someone else’s foot…again. I tried my best to take it like a man (whatever that means) and shuffled myself over to the stage. After walking it off a little, I felt a little better but just decided to call it a night. I didn’t want to aggravate it any more and put me out for the rest of the season, especially if BYU needed me for March. We’ll see.
10:01 pm – I get home and, whadya know, the ankle start hurting again. Jenn somehow sees that I’m in pain (no matter how hard I try to hide it), and gives me a nice foot and back rub (I think it affected my back too).
Maybe I’ll go back next Wednesday, maybe not. Maybe I’ll wait another six months, so I’ll have something to write about.
Tuesday, November 08, 2005
Not something funny
This is mainly for Chad. I found out I do not have his adress and I found this out right now while I was at work. This is what mary wrote on the website:
Just to let you all know, David Beck, the crew chief from 2-6, was in a bad car accident Sunday morning around 3:00 am. The car he was in rolled several times near Payson on his way back from Las Vegas and he was thrown out of the vehicle. He's in the Utah Valley Regional Hospital ICU so he cannot have visitors yet. From what his mom said, he has broken his neck, but not enough to be paralyzed, broken several ribs, punctured his lung and they found glass in his nose. I don't know when he'll be better, but we have purchased a card to give him and it is up at the crew chief desk. If you'd like to sign it please do that soon. Also, if you all could include him and his family in your prayers, thanks.
Thought you'd like to know. Later.
Just to let you all know, David Beck, the crew chief from 2-6, was in a bad car accident Sunday morning around 3:00 am. The car he was in rolled several times near Payson on his way back from Las Vegas and he was thrown out of the vehicle. He's in the Utah Valley Regional Hospital ICU so he cannot have visitors yet. From what his mom said, he has broken his neck, but not enough to be paralyzed, broken several ribs, punctured his lung and they found glass in his nose. I don't know when he'll be better, but we have purchased a card to give him and it is up at the crew chief desk. If you'd like to sign it please do that soon. Also, if you all could include him and his family in your prayers, thanks.
Thought you'd like to know. Later.
Friday, November 04, 2005
Working Downtown...or something like that.
Right after I posted my last blog entry, I realized that I completely forgot to acknowledge and celebrate Mayka’s rich Mexican heritage like I usually do. I knew she would bring it up sooner or later. First off, let me apologize. I did not intentionally fail to recognize you, Mayka. You are, in fact, the Tustison Family’s own affirmative action program. Anyway, I’m sorry, and by the way, most of my friends are Mexican…
There’s nothing like working downtown. Just like many things, it has its pluses and minuses. Many different smells litter the air with aromas of blooming flowers and rushing water, while other times the only thing you smell is the sidewalk-vomit left over from the weekend excitement or the guy on the bench that’s been reading the same 1980 Wall Street Journal every morning since I got here. There are some very unique characteristics that define a thriving metropolis like downtown San Antonio. While Trevor works in the thriving metropolis of Provo City and Mom could be confused as an extra on Sex in the City when she heads off to work, I thought I’d give you all (y’all) a very brief taste of what it’s like working downtown in the 8th largest city in the United States.
Streets & Traffic
Downtown is very accessible. The usual traffic jams are expected during the hours of rush, but Jenn and I have seemed to find the less stressful routes, especially in the morning (aka the bus). Jenn goes in to work at about noon and therefore confronts much less traffic than we would in the morning. The streets are very well maintained, with a majority of the downtown avenues paved with brick. Truthfully, I haven’t walked through the valley of the shadow of death that is the South side of downtown but I do work in the heavy commercial and tourist area, which, after 5 months, basically qualifies me as one of 50 Cent’s entourage members. What this has to do with streets, I have no idea.
Ambience
For those that don’t know, I work on the third floor which is really the 4th floor if you count the mezzanine. Pigeons constantly come to my window. They have large talons.
Today, I was in my office when my coworker and I heard a lot of raucous going on in the street. At first we thought is as some kind of parade and then I was told it was actually a Pep rally for one of the local high schools. This “parade” had the students, the band, and the baton twirlers who would even give Mom a run for her money. I waited for the Hopscotch team but they never materialized. The band was followed by the entire football team and loyal girlfriends/fiancées. At least four of them were either pregnant or carrying a stroller. See, that’s what I don’t get. It seems that every time BYU plays on national TV, the announcers have to mention that most of the BYU team is married or has kids—and that this may somehow assuage their passion for victory. What gets me is that they rarely mention that most of the guys on other teams have girlfriends and kids. And some of them probably have to divide their time between their kids’ moms. It’s kind of like if you put a guy on Maury Povich who is seriously involved with three different girls and probably has kids with them, everyone in the audience(well, mostly guys) wants to take this guy out, buy him a new wardrobe and watch And1 tapes with him all day. Now, take a polygamist with three wives, put him on Maury and suddenly everyone wants to take turns kicking this guy in the crotch. Obviously I’m not condoning polygamy in any way, I’m just saying….And yet I digress.
I thought this parade was a superb display of school pride. They marched up and down the streets, waved their school banners and yelled out their school spirit like the best of them. I even thought I heard something about San Dimas football. I was just waiting for Fellis Bueller to turn the corner and come out singing Danka Schoen (I was his dad looking out the window. That, my friends, is how exciting it can be down here).
There’s nothing like working downtown. Just like many things, it has its pluses and minuses. Many different smells litter the air with aromas of blooming flowers and rushing water, while other times the only thing you smell is the sidewalk-vomit left over from the weekend excitement or the guy on the bench that’s been reading the same 1980 Wall Street Journal every morning since I got here. There are some very unique characteristics that define a thriving metropolis like downtown San Antonio. While Trevor works in the thriving metropolis of Provo City and Mom could be confused as an extra on Sex in the City when she heads off to work, I thought I’d give you all (y’all) a very brief taste of what it’s like working downtown in the 8th largest city in the United States.
Streets & Traffic
Downtown is very accessible. The usual traffic jams are expected during the hours of rush, but Jenn and I have seemed to find the less stressful routes, especially in the morning (aka the bus). Jenn goes in to work at about noon and therefore confronts much less traffic than we would in the morning. The streets are very well maintained, with a majority of the downtown avenues paved with brick. Truthfully, I haven’t walked through the valley of the shadow of death that is the South side of downtown but I do work in the heavy commercial and tourist area, which, after 5 months, basically qualifies me as one of 50 Cent’s entourage members. What this has to do with streets, I have no idea.
Ambience
For those that don’t know, I work on the third floor which is really the 4th floor if you count the mezzanine. Pigeons constantly come to my window. They have large talons.
Today, I was in my office when my coworker and I heard a lot of raucous going on in the street. At first we thought is as some kind of parade and then I was told it was actually a Pep rally for one of the local high schools. This “parade” had the students, the band, and the baton twirlers who would even give Mom a run for her money. I waited for the Hopscotch team but they never materialized. The band was followed by the entire football team and loyal girlfriends/fiancées. At least four of them were either pregnant or carrying a stroller. See, that’s what I don’t get. It seems that every time BYU plays on national TV, the announcers have to mention that most of the BYU team is married or has kids—and that this may somehow assuage their passion for victory. What gets me is that they rarely mention that most of the guys on other teams have girlfriends and kids. And some of them probably have to divide their time between their kids’ moms. It’s kind of like if you put a guy on Maury Povich who is seriously involved with three different girls and probably has kids with them, everyone in the audience(well, mostly guys) wants to take this guy out, buy him a new wardrobe and watch And1 tapes with him all day. Now, take a polygamist with three wives, put him on Maury and suddenly everyone wants to take turns kicking this guy in the crotch. Obviously I’m not condoning polygamy in any way, I’m just saying….And yet I digress.
I thought this parade was a superb display of school pride. They marched up and down the streets, waved their school banners and yelled out their school spirit like the best of them. I even thought I heard something about San Dimas football. I was just waiting for Fellis Bueller to turn the corner and come out singing Danka Schoen (I was his dad looking out the window. That, my friends, is how exciting it can be down here).
And by the way, this homecoming/prep rally was almost better than Madera High’s rally. I remember having prep rallies in the morning during third period. They would announce it for almost two weeks straight but everyone (including the teachers) always forgot. Usually, they would have to ring the fire alarm to make everyone actually leave their classroom to go to the stadium. And then you would sit down by yourself, even though you were always pretending to look around for your friends who were “supposed to be here anytime and that’s why I’m saving these seats.” The rally itself usually consisted of some famous school personality, like the vice principal, welcoming everyone there. I think one year they tried to sing the alma mater but the neighbors filed attempted murder charges. After that the football players would do some stunt which always brought boos from most of the crowd, with their smiling cheerleaders at their side. These were the same cheerleaders that went to our water polo game one time and started cheering “GO BLUE, GO WHITE, GO BLUE AND WHITE” whilst both teams had blue and white caps (did I just use ‘whilst’). After the rally, you would always look up like you’re trying to find your make-believe friends and then pull the Trevor face (you know, the one where he gets upset, conveying the message that you just ruined his life. Not to be confused with the This-Pizza-Is-Way-Too-Hot-But-I-Decided-to-Take-a-Bite-Even-Though-it-Just-Got-Out-of-the-Oven Face.) Of course, if you went back to that Homecoming Pep Rally during High School, you would pause to look around and find out that everyone else has that look on their face, followed by the same face I pulled when I found out that Utah brought back Ostertag (the face where you knew that it was all inevitable). I’ll get over it though. He can always team up with Antoine “(the original) Big Dog” Carr and possibly expand his flooring business, NBA (Nothing But Awesome) Flooring. (By the way, I think I just broke the record for the number of parenthesis in a blog).
Well, this has turned into a very random blog entry. Where was I?
(to be continued...)
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
When I boarded for the first time last week, I noticed I was the only person wearing a tie. Then I noticed I was the only one in a dress shirt. Finally I noticed I was the only white person on the bus. Was I back in Honduras? Of course not—I was a full partaker of San Antonio’s well-oiled machine that we call VIA Public Transport. That’s right, I now ride the bus to work.
Things have been going pretty smoothly since I started riding over a week ago. However, three issues have come to my attention during the last week:
Needless to say, I’m a little hesitant to inform my friends and co-workers of my newfound mode of transport—I’m sure they’ll tell me that they knew someone who was run over by a bus, caught fire, and got mugged—all at the same time. I know what you’re saying: “There’s no way anyone will mess with a guy with a frame like yours.” You’re right—I could probably handle two or three guys but after that, fatigue kicks in; even I have limits.
Anyway, onto some random notes:
Just for the fun of it, I looked up all your wish lists on the Amazon.com website. Some interesting finds:
Trevor’s: Proclaimers (500 miles) + Little Women = One-way ticket to the GLAAD convention. Actually, I shouldn’t make fun of Trevor too much—he might turn around and hit me with his purse. And don’t get confused with the FOUR different Trevor Tustisons. Note: they are all the same person. He just wanted to make sure you saw his name. Trevor, we see you.
Kim’s: Chocolate from the Cake-Mix doctor. This sounds as exciting as having Charlie Weis sit on your shoulders while you’re trying to do the splits. Is it just me or does the lady look like someone photoshopped her head on someone else’s shoulders. (Kim, if you make any chocolate for me, please disregard this part of the blog.)
Jenn threw her back out on Saturday—I had to go retrieve it out the window at the bottom of the stairs. No, but seriously. She sneezed and conveniently we both had to miss stake conference. As much as I wanted to go by myself, I just couldn’t bring myself to leave the apartment with Jenn in her state of tremendous physical and emotional pain. She’ll deny all of that now, but she was on lots of drugs and pain medications so she probably doesn’t remember…
Halloween, just like Valentines Day, the prom and companionship inventory, is way overrated. As we sit here in our apartment at 10 pm, we have yet to have one visitor for trick or treating. I think all the kids that live here were bussed over to the rich neighborhoods. They also could have been scared off by the gunshots...
I just finished reading Trevor’s Book of the Month recommendation: 100 People Who are Screwing Up America. I’m adding one more to the list: the guy who came up with the Sonic commercials. Can we not comission some governmental committee and call them something like The Committee on Commercial Quality. There should be fines and public censuring, even public floggings. I feel very strongly about this.
Is it just me or has anyone else noticed the inordinate amount of celebrations in college and pro football. I’ve seen things this year I have never seen before. I saw some defensive line guy bat down a ball a couple of weeks ago. This guy didn’t just throw a fist in the air, or hi-five a fellow teammate. No, he proceeded to run about 20 yards up the field, flex his muscles and cross himself. Now don’t get me wrong. I think celebration just as good as the next guy—it gets you pumped up, your team pumped up and allows a chance for little known players to have some spotlight. But to tell you the truth, I wouldn’t be surprised if some players started doing the worm or the robot after making an open-field tackle. I think it’s a disturbing trend in our sports culture. Something that was fairly routine a decade ago has now become a quasi-halftime show…every two minutes. Which brings me to an idea I just had…
They need to have a commercial where a football player catches a ball for 10 yards or so and then proceeds to do all kinds of celebrations in the middle of the field. Then you have some skinny dude from the stands come down, tackle the player really hard. Then you have a caption on the screen with someone narrating, “Act like you’ve been there before, we do.” “Harrison Investments, Est. 1893.” Hey, it could work.
Is it just me or has anyone else noticed the inordinate amount of celebrations in college and pro football. I’ve seen things this year I have never seen before. I saw some defensive line guy bat down a ball a couple of weeks ago. This guy didn’t just throw a fist in the air, or hi-five a fellow teammate. No, he proceeded to run about 20 yards up the field, flex his muscles and cross himself. Now don’t get me wrong. I think celebration just as good as the next guy—it gets you pumped up, your team pumped up and allows a chance for little known players to have some spotlight. But to tell you the truth, I wouldn’t be surprised if some players started doing the worm or the robot after making an open-field tackle. I think it’s a disturbing trend in our sports culture. Something that was fairly routine a decade ago has now become a quasi-halftime show…every two minutes. Which brings me to an idea I just had…
They need to have a commercial where a football player catches a ball for 10 yards or so and then proceeds to do all kinds of celebrations in the middle of the field. Then you have some skinny dude from the stands come down, tackle the player really hard. Then you have a caption on the screen with someone narrating, “Act like you’ve been there before, we do.” “Harrison Investments, Est. 1893.” Hey, it could work.
Thursday, October 20, 2005
Pictures
I understand that some of you, for some reason, wanted to see what I looked like pregnant. Well here you go. Enjoy (Mike took these at the Saint George Temple)
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Monday, October 17, 2005
"But Jesus loves soda"
This weekend Kim drove down to Baltimore to Clint and Mayka's house to meet me as I was already in Bethesda presenting at the NIH. I also ran the Baltimore marathon which was fantastic (except for my time). Anyway, on the way home from the marathon I picked up a bottle of Cherry Coke for Clint and one for myself. After letting the Coke freeze for about an hour Clint and I sat down on the couch to enjoy the frosty libations. Riley immediately approached Clint on the couch and said "but, Dad, you're not supposed to drink soda." but he said it more in a beseeching as opposed to a chastising tone which indicates to me that he was saying "Hey, Dad, can I have sip?" Kim says I don't think before I say certain things and this was probably one of those times for I turned to Riley and said "But Jesus loves soda --- especially the black kind." You can imagine the look of confusion on Riley's face. So, Mayka, if you're reading this --- I'm sorry. I'll try not to use Jesus to undermine your parenting in the future. Next time I'll just say "Spiderman loves soda and gets his superpowers from drinking it."
Thursday, October 06, 2005
Exiguous fortitude, adroit apophasis, and apposite trepidation (beat that Nick)
So I am here on the fifth floor in the Library and I got pretty tired of staring at the same accounting problem for the last fifteen minutes, so I decided to write on the blog. Now it wouldn't be that bad if I was working on the problem for the last fifteen minutes but simply staring at it for the last fifteen minutes (five of those were constructive staring) makes it seem pretty sad. But then again, that is another story. Then again, I can see being at the gates to the celestial kingdom and being asked one question and then entrance would be made. Problem: Make adjusting entries on the subsidiary ledgers for client X in the year 12/31/X4 assuming that the business already has 16,234 dollars of accounts receivable from the client and he has paid only 14, 285 of those accounts receivable...blah...blah...fvdvdfv;dfoajvjoreore9845trj... Sorry fell asleep. Well, if accounting is necessary to know in order to get to the celestial kingdom, then we must have to use it. And any place where you have to use this black magic must not be heaven. I will let all of you reason it out. So I am stuck listening to music such as "Ya got no reason" and "Will there be a second solution" by Living End and I have come to the conclusion that there will not be. My solutions are never the ones these professor have conived. Oh well.
Well, besides accounting, my dating life is about as successful (and interesting). Cool, huh. I gues I have to keep up the Tustison appeal. Play hard to get, or rather, can't get. Just kidding, (no but seriously). There is this girl at work that looks pretty cute and that my crew chief from summer term is trying to hook me up with. But there always seems to be so many obstacles; her shift from 3-7 and mine from 6-10 in the morning, her not facing me whenever I decide to talk to her, other people are always there (if you include her as being "other people"). Nah, but don't worry. I have been going over in my mind the whole situation and how it would occur if I did decide to talk to her. It'll end up being like a testimony (for those of you who have "planned" out your testimonies).
Also, to go along with all this. My career plans have changed. I am going to take over Marlae's job at IT services. I figured that if I work here long enough and maybe break Jason's and Eddie's record of school, I could outlive Marlae and begin the sweet job of asking if we need more extension cords and bringing kudo bars to the crew meetings. It'll be sweet.
Well, I appreciate all of you reading up until this point, and I must say that I invented the pity party. Peace Out and Good Night.
Well, besides accounting, my dating life is about as successful (and interesting). Cool, huh. I gues I have to keep up the Tustison appeal. Play hard to get, or rather, can't get. Just kidding, (no but seriously). There is this girl at work that looks pretty cute and that my crew chief from summer term is trying to hook me up with. But there always seems to be so many obstacles; her shift from 3-7 and mine from 6-10 in the morning, her not facing me whenever I decide to talk to her, other people are always there (if you include her as being "other people"). Nah, but don't worry. I have been going over in my mind the whole situation and how it would occur if I did decide to talk to her. It'll end up being like a testimony (for those of you who have "planned" out your testimonies).
Also, to go along with all this. My career plans have changed. I am going to take over Marlae's job at IT services. I figured that if I work here long enough and maybe break Jason's and Eddie's record of school, I could outlive Marlae and begin the sweet job of asking if we need more extension cords and bringing kudo bars to the crew meetings. It'll be sweet.
Well, I appreciate all of you reading up until this point, and I must say that I invented the pity party. Peace Out and Good Night.
Thursday, September 22, 2005
weight issues
Yeah, so while everyone is stating their problems with weight gain, I might as well participate in these trials and difficulties we call weight problems. Since my mission I have been continually losing weight. Now I have no idea if that is a good thing or not, but yesterday, right before I got into the RB pool, I weighed myself and I have dropped down to where I was before the mission to 151 lbs. I went from 165 to 151 in a matter of about three months. Now some of you may be wondering, "What did he do to be able to do that?" Well, I do have my special tricks and secrets that I will let you in on right now and they consist of three basic steps.
1. Spend money on everything else such as cds, books, girls (this one I haven't been doing), etc. When I do this I find out I have no money to spend on costco muffins or pizza and so I spend the next two weeks snacking on granola bars with coke while reading "100 Americans who are screwing up America."
2. Become so incredibly lazy that the simple fact of heating up a can of chili makes you groan. Yeah, I never thought snacking on dried top ramen would actually be enticing until I realized how much preparation you need to put forth into making it (there is no preparation made in making it). Although just opening it makes me cry from frustration, considering the alternatives, I have decided it is a better route.
3. Develop a nervousness in eating in front of people. I have found this one particularly successful for me. Just the simple fact of eating pizza makes me recall those moments of ridicule from my brothers/sister. Now, when I refer to 'eating in front of people' I refer to those special ward activities, FHE's, and every other time where dropping food onto your shirt is in plain view of the general public. In developing this habit, one soon realizes how overrated eating really is and starts relating it to mundane activities like taking a shower and brushing your teeth. If guilt is formed in forming an 'anorexic' attitude towards this, there is always self-justification such as "I am too busy studying" or "I might as well do a half-fast while I am without food."
Well, there they are. If pity is felt for me, cookies/treats/money can be sent to:
Trevor Tustison
1130 E. 450N. #51
Provo, Ut 84606
For any questions or concerns (or scoldings from the pads) contact me at trevortustison@yahoo.com
1. Spend money on everything else such as cds, books, girls (this one I haven't been doing), etc. When I do this I find out I have no money to spend on costco muffins or pizza and so I spend the next two weeks snacking on granola bars with coke while reading "100 Americans who are screwing up America."
2. Become so incredibly lazy that the simple fact of heating up a can of chili makes you groan. Yeah, I never thought snacking on dried top ramen would actually be enticing until I realized how much preparation you need to put forth into making it (there is no preparation made in making it). Although just opening it makes me cry from frustration, considering the alternatives, I have decided it is a better route.
3. Develop a nervousness in eating in front of people. I have found this one particularly successful for me. Just the simple fact of eating pizza makes me recall those moments of ridicule from my brothers/sister. Now, when I refer to 'eating in front of people' I refer to those special ward activities, FHE's, and every other time where dropping food onto your shirt is in plain view of the general public. In developing this habit, one soon realizes how overrated eating really is and starts relating it to mundane activities like taking a shower and brushing your teeth. If guilt is formed in forming an 'anorexic' attitude towards this, there is always self-justification such as "I am too busy studying" or "I might as well do a half-fast while I am without food."
Well, there they are. If pity is felt for me, cookies/treats/money can be sent to:
Trevor Tustison
1130 E. 450N. #51
Provo, Ut 84606
For any questions or concerns (or scoldings from the pads) contact me at trevortustison@yahoo.com
Thursday, September 15, 2005
Pregnancy Bliss
The following is just a few of the wonderful things I am experiencing at the moment.
Sleep
Every night I am tricked into thinking that because I am so sleepy I will sleep throughout the whole night, and every night that dream is spoiled.
The first thing I do when I get into bed is arrange my pillows: One under my head, one between my legs, one under my stomach and one that I hold. As soon as I’m ready and start to fall asleep, I realize that Mike didn’t turn the fan into our room and knowing that I will drown in my own sweat without that fan, I look to Mike who is conveniently asleep and get up only to go through my routine all over again.
The pillows work great until I feel the need to turn to my other side. If this activity that resembles crocodile wrestling doesn’t fully wake me up, it’s the thought that I better go to the bathroom as long as I’m partly awake. I struggle my way over the tower of pillows and twisted blankets, my joints are so stiff I can’t stand up straight and it takes my wrists 20 seconds to gain enough strength to hold me up. Once I get done in the bathroom I stumble back to bed only to realize that my mouth feels as dry as Clint’s feet look. Every night I feel as though fast Sunday was the next day and we were stupid enough to eat pizza that night. And then I remember, no, it’s just that wonderful St. George desert. I go back to the kitchen, find a cold water bottle and down the whole thing, only to realize after that this will cause 3 more bathroom stops during the night. I finally make it back to bed and fall asleep. As predicted, 2 hours later I wake up to go to the bathroom only to be blessed by a bloody nose. This takes me back to my elementary school days when I would lay on the floor for hours on end. While they are not exactly that bad, I still am surprised to see that not only blood is coming out of my nose, but several other things that I won’t mention.
As morning approaches the feel to stretch overtakes me before I have time to remember the consequences. One moment I’m snuggling up to my 10 pillows and the next, I’m sitting straight up, trying to not wake Mike with my silent scream, as my calf muscle contracts like a snapped rubber band. I try to point my feet up and the pain slowly drains. You would think I would learn my lesson but five minutes later the same thing happens again and then again.
Body Effects
My day consists of watching TV, cleaning up around the house, and playing spider solitaire, oh and of course eating. So why is it by the time late afternoon approaches I feel like I have just gotten done with running a marathon? Every part of my body aches and my joints feels like the Tin-mans’ from the Wizard of Oz, (before he received the oil). Now I already know Mikes response to this and if I hear it one more time I might just kill him: Exercise. Now if you ask me, walking to the mail box, carrying a huge load of laundry to the facility and of course walking back and forth from the refrigerator countless times a day are quite efficient for an exercise program. Plus anything more might harm the baby (an easy and non-arguable excuse). Another reason, for non-strenuous exercise is my sciatic nerve. Laugh all you want, but until you experience it you have no idea what it is like. If I move heavy things during the day or walk around a lot, I am usually accompanied by a painful reminder for the remainder of that day. One minute I’m walking calmly around Costco, eating up the delicious caramel cheesecake sample, when a sharp pain travels up my thigh causing my leg to completely give out. For the rest of the trip I lean on the cart trying to look half normal while I walk/limp down the aisle. The best is when the syatic nerve pairs up with the leg cramp. Now that’s when things get exciting.
My back, wanting some attention too, acts up by the end of the day, so I carry out my entourage of pillows from the bedroom and prop them on the couch to ease the pain. After an hour of complaining about my back and realizing that Mike will never figure it out on his own, I give in and ask him if he would be so kind as to massage it for me. He reluctantly agrees and proceeds to rub my back in the same spot for a whole 5 minutes then goes back to his chair to continue changing channels. I don’t know what’s worse, the lower back pain that is still there, or the rug burn that is now permanently impressed in my back.
Emotional Instability
As if my body breaking down wasn’t bad enough, I can usually count on my mind doing the same thing at about the same time. As soon as dark approaches I can feel myself getting antsy, wanting something more than to watch Emril live for the 50th time in a row. Mike offers to change the channels, but the choices of the history or the video game channel really don’t appeal to me and the “joke” doesn’t make me laugh. I look around and realize that everything that is happening, or lack of for that matter, is annoying. It’s like I’m sitting in the back of the jeep all over again. Chad is on one side and Trevor on the other and both have their legs spread as wide as they possibly can, smashing mine in the process. Trevor might as well be asleep since I can hear his breathing over the half static-half talk radio dad is listening to. On the other side Chad is eating a package of pork rinds, although the same sound would emerge if he was eating gummy bears, while in between bites he blows his nose on a tissue that is as small and transparent as a trident gum wrapper. While Mike’s habits aren’t nearly as bad, his twitching foot causes me to go over the edge. However, I am comforted by one thought. Now I know some in the family may gasp in horror at what I’m about to say and to them I don’t apologize, for I am not ashamed (Plus, the dr. says it okay). I grab my mug and demand that Mike drive me to the corner gas station where soda refills are an amazing .49cents. I fill my mug with Dr. Pepper, yes, caffeinated Dr. Pepper and my anxiety diminishes as I drink. It truly is the best medicine and it only takes a few ounces before I am completely calm again.
Of course, then there is the fear that is creeping slowly inside me realizing that in a little over a month I will have a baby to take care of. Mike of course, completely reassures me by saying, “Sam, it’s no big deal, you can have an epidural.” and, “Don’t worry, I’ve changed a diaper before, taking care of a baby is going to be easy.” What would I do without him? At least (I hope), he will not be like his dad who, after Mike was born, said to his mom, “Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
Disclaimer: While this might seem like I am complaining, I am honestly truly thankful for this baby and for having this experience. Also, anything negative referring to Mike has been (only slightly) embellished for dramatic effect.
Sleep
Every night I am tricked into thinking that because I am so sleepy I will sleep throughout the whole night, and every night that dream is spoiled.
The first thing I do when I get into bed is arrange my pillows: One under my head, one between my legs, one under my stomach and one that I hold. As soon as I’m ready and start to fall asleep, I realize that Mike didn’t turn the fan into our room and knowing that I will drown in my own sweat without that fan, I look to Mike who is conveniently asleep and get up only to go through my routine all over again.
The pillows work great until I feel the need to turn to my other side. If this activity that resembles crocodile wrestling doesn’t fully wake me up, it’s the thought that I better go to the bathroom as long as I’m partly awake. I struggle my way over the tower of pillows and twisted blankets, my joints are so stiff I can’t stand up straight and it takes my wrists 20 seconds to gain enough strength to hold me up. Once I get done in the bathroom I stumble back to bed only to realize that my mouth feels as dry as Clint’s feet look. Every night I feel as though fast Sunday was the next day and we were stupid enough to eat pizza that night. And then I remember, no, it’s just that wonderful St. George desert. I go back to the kitchen, find a cold water bottle and down the whole thing, only to realize after that this will cause 3 more bathroom stops during the night. I finally make it back to bed and fall asleep. As predicted, 2 hours later I wake up to go to the bathroom only to be blessed by a bloody nose. This takes me back to my elementary school days when I would lay on the floor for hours on end. While they are not exactly that bad, I still am surprised to see that not only blood is coming out of my nose, but several other things that I won’t mention.
As morning approaches the feel to stretch overtakes me before I have time to remember the consequences. One moment I’m snuggling up to my 10 pillows and the next, I’m sitting straight up, trying to not wake Mike with my silent scream, as my calf muscle contracts like a snapped rubber band. I try to point my feet up and the pain slowly drains. You would think I would learn my lesson but five minutes later the same thing happens again and then again.
Body Effects
My day consists of watching TV, cleaning up around the house, and playing spider solitaire, oh and of course eating. So why is it by the time late afternoon approaches I feel like I have just gotten done with running a marathon? Every part of my body aches and my joints feels like the Tin-mans’ from the Wizard of Oz, (before he received the oil). Now I already know Mikes response to this and if I hear it one more time I might just kill him: Exercise. Now if you ask me, walking to the mail box, carrying a huge load of laundry to the facility and of course walking back and forth from the refrigerator countless times a day are quite efficient for an exercise program. Plus anything more might harm the baby (an easy and non-arguable excuse). Another reason, for non-strenuous exercise is my sciatic nerve. Laugh all you want, but until you experience it you have no idea what it is like. If I move heavy things during the day or walk around a lot, I am usually accompanied by a painful reminder for the remainder of that day. One minute I’m walking calmly around Costco, eating up the delicious caramel cheesecake sample, when a sharp pain travels up my thigh causing my leg to completely give out. For the rest of the trip I lean on the cart trying to look half normal while I walk/limp down the aisle. The best is when the syatic nerve pairs up with the leg cramp. Now that’s when things get exciting.
My back, wanting some attention too, acts up by the end of the day, so I carry out my entourage of pillows from the bedroom and prop them on the couch to ease the pain. After an hour of complaining about my back and realizing that Mike will never figure it out on his own, I give in and ask him if he would be so kind as to massage it for me. He reluctantly agrees and proceeds to rub my back in the same spot for a whole 5 minutes then goes back to his chair to continue changing channels. I don’t know what’s worse, the lower back pain that is still there, or the rug burn that is now permanently impressed in my back.
Emotional Instability
As if my body breaking down wasn’t bad enough, I can usually count on my mind doing the same thing at about the same time. As soon as dark approaches I can feel myself getting antsy, wanting something more than to watch Emril live for the 50th time in a row. Mike offers to change the channels, but the choices of the history or the video game channel really don’t appeal to me and the “joke” doesn’t make me laugh. I look around and realize that everything that is happening, or lack of for that matter, is annoying. It’s like I’m sitting in the back of the jeep all over again. Chad is on one side and Trevor on the other and both have their legs spread as wide as they possibly can, smashing mine in the process. Trevor might as well be asleep since I can hear his breathing over the half static-half talk radio dad is listening to. On the other side Chad is eating a package of pork rinds, although the same sound would emerge if he was eating gummy bears, while in between bites he blows his nose on a tissue that is as small and transparent as a trident gum wrapper. While Mike’s habits aren’t nearly as bad, his twitching foot causes me to go over the edge. However, I am comforted by one thought. Now I know some in the family may gasp in horror at what I’m about to say and to them I don’t apologize, for I am not ashamed (Plus, the dr. says it okay). I grab my mug and demand that Mike drive me to the corner gas station where soda refills are an amazing .49cents. I fill my mug with Dr. Pepper, yes, caffeinated Dr. Pepper and my anxiety diminishes as I drink. It truly is the best medicine and it only takes a few ounces before I am completely calm again.
Of course, then there is the fear that is creeping slowly inside me realizing that in a little over a month I will have a baby to take care of. Mike of course, completely reassures me by saying, “Sam, it’s no big deal, you can have an epidural.” and, “Don’t worry, I’ve changed a diaper before, taking care of a baby is going to be easy.” What would I do without him? At least (I hope), he will not be like his dad who, after Mike was born, said to his mom, “Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
Disclaimer: While this might seem like I am complaining, I am honestly truly thankful for this baby and for having this experience. Also, anything negative referring to Mike has been (only slightly) embellished for dramatic effect.
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
Basketball Tryouts Anyone?
I got this from cougarfan.com
Walk-on Tryouts Set for Oct. 10 by Brett Pyne, BYU Athletic Communications PROVO, Utah (Sept. 13, 2005) -- Walk-on tryouts for the BYU men's basketball team will take place Monday, Oct. 10, from 6-8 a.m. BYU students interested in trying out must register in advance at the Men's Basketball Office located at 2112 Marriott Center. Any questions about the tryouts can be addressed to the Basketball Office at 422-3612.
Is Scott Pace going to try out again this year?Thursday, September 08, 2005
Words of Wisdom
Anyone who imagines that bliss is normal is going to waste a lot of time runing around shouting that he's been robbed. The fact is that most putts don't drop, most beef is tough, most children grow up to be just people, most successful marriages require a high degree of mutual toleration, most jobs are more often dull than otherwise. Life is like an old time rail journey.....delays, sidetracks, smoke, dust, cinders and jolts, interspersed only occasionally by beautiful vistas, and thrilling bursts of speed. The trick is to thank the Lord for letting you have the ride.
President Gordon B. Hinckley
President Gordon B. Hinckley
Monday, September 05, 2005
MIA
First of all, let me say that the BYU game was on ABC in our neck of the woods and about every five minutes, a scrolling marque across the bottom of the screen would come on and say:
"The ABC network is responsible for deciding which games to show. Your local WJLA-TV affiliate has no say in which games these are. Thank you for your understanding."
It's kind of like they were apologizing for showing BYU. Well, after that showing, I'm sure ABC won't make that mistake again.
OK, enough of that. I know I have been a stranger to the blog for the last month or so. I kind of feel like Chaz (except that I'm not 195 lbs. quite yet). In a similar fashion to Chad's work schedule, I was also forced to spend late nights and early mornings away from home and my lovely wife. Yes, Hawaii was a difficult place to spend three weeks. It takes a special person to wake up, go to the beach all day, show up to work in the afternoon for a couple of hours, and then go out to eat, all the while getting paid per diem to be out there. It's tough but when you're called on to sacrifice for the good around you, you do what you can.
So, now that I'm back, I thought I would share with you all some of the enduring trials I had to go through. It was no Iraq, but... well, you judge for yourself.
The view from my hotel; sucks to be me.
A view of Waikiki from Diamond Head.
Oh, wait, how did that get in there...
The sunset off Waikiki.
Believe it or not, the reason I was there...
Anyways, thank you all for worrying about Mayka while I was gone. Needless to say, she did an amazing job taking care of the three kids in Connecticut while I was gone.
BTW, we also got our ticket for Christmas. We get there on the 24th in the mid-morning sometime and then leave on January 4th. We're excited to see everybody and Riley and Sam are especially excited to push Tio Chad in the snow.
"The ABC network is responsible for deciding which games to show. Your local WJLA-TV affiliate has no say in which games these are. Thank you for your understanding."
It's kind of like they were apologizing for showing BYU. Well, after that showing, I'm sure ABC won't make that mistake again.
OK, enough of that. I know I have been a stranger to the blog for the last month or so. I kind of feel like Chaz (except that I'm not 195 lbs. quite yet). In a similar fashion to Chad's work schedule, I was also forced to spend late nights and early mornings away from home and my lovely wife. Yes, Hawaii was a difficult place to spend three weeks. It takes a special person to wake up, go to the beach all day, show up to work in the afternoon for a couple of hours, and then go out to eat, all the while getting paid per diem to be out there. It's tough but when you're called on to sacrifice for the good around you, you do what you can.
So, now that I'm back, I thought I would share with you all some of the enduring trials I had to go through. It was no Iraq, but... well, you judge for yourself.
The view from my hotel; sucks to be me.
A view of Waikiki from Diamond Head.
Oh, wait, how did that get in there...
The sunset off Waikiki.
Believe it or not, the reason I was there...
Anyways, thank you all for worrying about Mayka while I was gone. Needless to say, she did an amazing job taking care of the three kids in Connecticut while I was gone.
BTW, we also got our ticket for Christmas. We get there on the 24th in the mid-morning sometime and then leave on January 4th. We're excited to see everybody and Riley and Sam are especially excited to push Tio Chad in the snow.
Saturday, September 03, 2005
True Blue?????
Man - I am so tired of gearing up for the football season and having my team fizzle. My anxiety level goes way up (it's a good thing I have access to drugs) and I take it personal. I am in a bad mood and very grouchy. And we have to go to church and hear all about the "red team." What can I do to get through this season and not bite Dad's head off. He tells me not to expect anything and then I won't be disappointed. Yeah, whatever. I am just mad. Perhaps I will eat some chocolate and maybe I will feel better.
Friday, September 02, 2005
Anyone up for some Roller Blading???
I’ll never forget the time in Madera, I think it was a Saturday, when BYU was playing Oklahoma in the Maui invitational. I remember Nick was in the living room with me and we went crazy at the end of the game when Knight sunk the three-point shot after the Sanderson miss. What I remember most, however, was the time-outs. During every time out, I would run outside with my basketball, shoot for a few seconds, dunk on Nick a couple of times and then run inside for the game. This happened at each juncture in the game and continued long after the final buzzer went off. Growing up, there were many movies that compelled me to act out whatever was being done. Of course, almost every major karate movie sent me into dropkicks and roundhouses, hence the siblings’ fear of the "Power of ten tigers," aka "If only I could touch your hair."
I, therefore, pose these questions: What is it in movies and TV that makes us want to imitate whatever was being done in the show? Is it healthy? How should we approach this phenomenon? Should this be a major factor in considering an Oscar bid? I will now explore this…
In order to address this topic in full, we first need to establish a name for this occurrence. Right now the best I can come up with is the Compellability Factor. (Kind of like Fear Factor but without the worm poop and goat testicles. While we’re on the subject, I absolutely loathe the show. There is nothing worse than eating ice cream, flipping the channels, and coming across twin bimbos eating maggot larvae. And we wonder why people from other countries think of us the way they do. This is my least favorite shows & the worst show on prime time. There, I said it.)
Anyway, the Compellability Factor is something that, in my opinion, hasn’t been studied enough (in fact, not at all, as far as I can tell). I think every movie has some form of Compellability, which can carry a positive or negative rating. Another factor within the Compellability Factor is the lasting affect. For example, Star Wars was and is a great movie series. However, once you get past the fact that you don’t have The Force, no matter how hard you try focusing, you give up and the Compellability Factor is short-lived. Of course its staying power is due to many other factors including soryline, plot, acting, etc. Another cable series, on the other hand, like Wrestlemania has spurred numerous wrestling federations, the moronic Backyard Wrestling folks, and the embarrassingly prolonged retirement of Hulk Hogan (He may have been inducted into the Hall of Fame, but he’s still wrestling). For these people, the compellability Factor of Wrestlemania is more important than they will ever realize. Of course, the acting is not as good as Star Wars.
So, lucky for you, I will now take the time to outline 5 movies which, in their day, ranked high (on my internal radar) in the compellability Factor Department. Note: each of these movies deserve a full review in its own right. I will, however, only address the Compellability Factor…for now….
Honorable Mentions:
Rocky III & IV
The Last Dragon
8 mile
Rad
Search for Animal Chin
Karate kid
Top Gun
Blackhawk Down
Now For the Top Five (drumroll please...)
Over the Top
One of Sylvester Stallone’s greatest performances, period—he inspired every boy from 8 to 17 years old to challenge his little sister in arm wrestling match, and haughtily walk around triumphantly afterward. Any actor that can do that should win some kind of award. While he didn’t win an Oscar, Sly was nominated for a Razzie Award (Worst Actor) for this movie in 1988. People harass him for "Stop, or My Mom Will Shoot," but how can people be so hard on him after "Over the Top"—there’s nowhere to go but down. While the Compellability Factor is high in this movie, I feel it lacked some realism. For example, the exercises—remember when they hold on to the door railing of the truck and do the little pull-ups. THESE DON’T WORK. I can do about 800 of these and it does NOTHING. If anything, it did give to the world the now-famous "over-the-top" move where you place the thumb of your fingers over you and your opponent’s thumb. Simply put, the best arm-wrestling movie of all time.
CF Rating: 7.7 out of 10
No Retreat No Surrender
What do you get when you cross Jean Claude Van Dam with a Russian accent, a Bruce Lee wannabe, endless fight scenes and A.C. Green’s little brother—only one of the best films of all time. What makes it so great? It’s definitely not the acting. You could’ve put Pauly Shore in the movie as Jason, cut his hair, taught him some fighting moves and the acting component wouldn’t have changed. The movie centers around a family whose father is a karate instructor running away from past financial problems while his son is a young karate version of Napoleon's Dynamite's Uncle Rico: embarrasingly over-confident, yet earnest in his quest for karate stardom. He meets up with some bad dudes from another Dojo and the movie culminates with him using his Bruce Lee training on a bunch of bad dudes. This movie is unique in that its Compellability Factor is three-fold. Not only does it make you want to move the coffee table, it also compels you to train and workout as well as learn how to break-dance. Overall good family fun. Two words: Chi, Power!
CF Rating: 8.3 out of 10
Searching for Bobby Fischer
Just making sure you’re still awake
Hoosiers
This one’s a no-brainer. It doesn’t really start coming into play until Jimmy starts playing. You watch these guys start winning, coming together, and you think, "hey, I could play for with those guys…I could run the picket fence…I could get used to those tight shorts. And then, before you know it, you’re outside in the driveway, wearing Nick's shorts, trying to knock down ten straight jumpers from the top of the key thinking you would have been unstoppable back then…
The Compellability Factor takes a big hit, however, when my mayor, Gene Hackman, kisses Barbara Hershey on the lips. We didn’t need to see that. Who wants to shoot hoops after that?!?! The end, no matter how implausible, redeems itself.
CF Rating: 8.5 out of 10
The Wizard
A few months ago, I saw Rain Man for the first time on TBS. I knew it had received a few awards and so I sat down and watched the whole thing. Throughout the whole movie, I kept thinking to myself, "I’ve seen this movie before." It wasn’t until Dustin Hoffman shows up at the casino and wins by counting/memorizing the cars that I realized I was practically watching The Wizard. This wasn’t just any movie—it featured movie stars Beau Bridges, Fred Savage and Christian Slater. Look at that cast again--Youre talking about three guys in the prime of their careers. Throw in the beautiful Mora Grissum, and we're talking about Michigan's Fab-Five caliber. (For a lot of people it is kind of like Robin Hood Prince of Thieves: Big Stars, horribly predictable, and ultimately disapointing, kind of like Ocean's Twelve. I don't want to get off on another tangent, but am I the only one that thought Ocean's Twelve was one of the most uninteresting movies within the last five years)? For those that don't know the premise of this movie, for whatever blashemous reason, this movie features a runaway quasi-autistic kid who turns out to be the Shaquille O’Neil of Nintendo games. Remember how good I was in double dribble (or any other game for that matter)? He was kind of like that. This game made you want to pick up a game controller and start playing, even if Mom tried to hide the controllers in the washing machine or the headset of her waterbed. Remember when Mom tried to play Super Mario Bros. in Delano and all y'all tried to tell her how to do it...You drove her away from the game. She could've been one of the greats. You should all be ashamed of yourselves. This game alone inspired me to singlehandedly beat Bionic Commando, Metroid and Contra (needless to say, I didn't date much). Of course, no one got close to Dad's Duck Hunt skills.
CF Rating: 9 out 10
Airborne
How can you go wrong when the main antagonist of the movie has the name "Chocolate Stain Blaine"? You can't-- this movie has it all. It has so many different roller blading scenes, you keep waiting for it to be done but there's always another scene, kind of like Crocodile Dundee II (not that it's a bad thing); you get roller hockey, street/freestyle rollerblading, street racing. The movie focuses on the adventures of a misplaced California surfer/rollerblader who is forced to relocate to Minnesota to stay with his cousin Wiley (aka That Guy from Without a Paddle). This movie not only has a very high Compellability Factor, it also has a high Rewatchablity & Fast-Forwarability Factor (to the good parts.) Airborne drove me to play roller hockey with Trevor and his friends every day after school, rain or shine. You read that right-- Because of this movie, I would drag out the blue trash cans and play roller hockey with 11 and 12 year old kids in the street, all the while beating my chest and pumping my fists in the air after every goal (similar to NHL 94). Man, I was pathetic, and I loved every minute of it.
CF Rating: 9.8 out of 10
A movie's Compellability Factor has not been explored enough. If anything, I hope this has brought awareness to the phenomenon and that you may begin (if you haven't started already) to assess movies not only on their acting, storyline, plot, predictability, societal value, but also on its Compellability Factor...or not.
I, therefore, pose these questions: What is it in movies and TV that makes us want to imitate whatever was being done in the show? Is it healthy? How should we approach this phenomenon? Should this be a major factor in considering an Oscar bid? I will now explore this…
In order to address this topic in full, we first need to establish a name for this occurrence. Right now the best I can come up with is the Compellability Factor. (Kind of like Fear Factor but without the worm poop and goat testicles. While we’re on the subject, I absolutely loathe the show. There is nothing worse than eating ice cream, flipping the channels, and coming across twin bimbos eating maggot larvae. And we wonder why people from other countries think of us the way they do. This is my least favorite shows & the worst show on prime time. There, I said it.)
Anyway, the Compellability Factor is something that, in my opinion, hasn’t been studied enough (in fact, not at all, as far as I can tell). I think every movie has some form of Compellability, which can carry a positive or negative rating. Another factor within the Compellability Factor is the lasting affect. For example, Star Wars was and is a great movie series. However, once you get past the fact that you don’t have The Force, no matter how hard you try focusing, you give up and the Compellability Factor is short-lived. Of course its staying power is due to many other factors including soryline, plot, acting, etc. Another cable series, on the other hand, like Wrestlemania has spurred numerous wrestling federations, the moronic Backyard Wrestling folks, and the embarrassingly prolonged retirement of Hulk Hogan (He may have been inducted into the Hall of Fame, but he’s still wrestling). For these people, the compellability Factor of Wrestlemania is more important than they will ever realize. Of course, the acting is not as good as Star Wars.
So, lucky for you, I will now take the time to outline 5 movies which, in their day, ranked high (on my internal radar) in the compellability Factor Department. Note: each of these movies deserve a full review in its own right. I will, however, only address the Compellability Factor…for now….
Honorable Mentions:
Rocky III & IV
The Last Dragon
8 mile
Rad
Search for Animal Chin
Karate kid
Top Gun
Blackhawk Down
Now For the Top Five (drumroll please...)
Over the Top
One of Sylvester Stallone’s greatest performances, period—he inspired every boy from 8 to 17 years old to challenge his little sister in arm wrestling match, and haughtily walk around triumphantly afterward. Any actor that can do that should win some kind of award. While he didn’t win an Oscar, Sly was nominated for a Razzie Award (Worst Actor) for this movie in 1988. People harass him for "Stop, or My Mom Will Shoot," but how can people be so hard on him after "Over the Top"—there’s nowhere to go but down. While the Compellability Factor is high in this movie, I feel it lacked some realism. For example, the exercises—remember when they hold on to the door railing of the truck and do the little pull-ups. THESE DON’T WORK. I can do about 800 of these and it does NOTHING. If anything, it did give to the world the now-famous "over-the-top" move where you place the thumb of your fingers over you and your opponent’s thumb. Simply put, the best arm-wrestling movie of all time.
CF Rating: 7.7 out of 10
No Retreat No Surrender
What do you get when you cross Jean Claude Van Dam with a Russian accent, a Bruce Lee wannabe, endless fight scenes and A.C. Green’s little brother—only one of the best films of all time. What makes it so great? It’s definitely not the acting. You could’ve put Pauly Shore in the movie as Jason, cut his hair, taught him some fighting moves and the acting component wouldn’t have changed. The movie centers around a family whose father is a karate instructor running away from past financial problems while his son is a young karate version of Napoleon's Dynamite's Uncle Rico: embarrasingly over-confident, yet earnest in his quest for karate stardom. He meets up with some bad dudes from another Dojo and the movie culminates with him using his Bruce Lee training on a bunch of bad dudes. This movie is unique in that its Compellability Factor is three-fold. Not only does it make you want to move the coffee table, it also compels you to train and workout as well as learn how to break-dance. Overall good family fun. Two words: Chi, Power!
CF Rating: 8.3 out of 10
Searching for Bobby Fischer
Just making sure you’re still awake
Hoosiers
This one’s a no-brainer. It doesn’t really start coming into play until Jimmy starts playing. You watch these guys start winning, coming together, and you think, "hey, I could play for with those guys…I could run the picket fence…I could get used to those tight shorts. And then, before you know it, you’re outside in the driveway, wearing Nick's shorts, trying to knock down ten straight jumpers from the top of the key thinking you would have been unstoppable back then…
The Compellability Factor takes a big hit, however, when my mayor, Gene Hackman, kisses Barbara Hershey on the lips. We didn’t need to see that. Who wants to shoot hoops after that?!?! The end, no matter how implausible, redeems itself.
CF Rating: 8.5 out of 10
The Wizard
A few months ago, I saw Rain Man for the first time on TBS. I knew it had received a few awards and so I sat down and watched the whole thing. Throughout the whole movie, I kept thinking to myself, "I’ve seen this movie before." It wasn’t until Dustin Hoffman shows up at the casino and wins by counting/memorizing the cars that I realized I was practically watching The Wizard. This wasn’t just any movie—it featured movie stars Beau Bridges, Fred Savage and Christian Slater. Look at that cast again--Youre talking about three guys in the prime of their careers. Throw in the beautiful Mora Grissum, and we're talking about Michigan's Fab-Five caliber. (For a lot of people it is kind of like Robin Hood Prince of Thieves: Big Stars, horribly predictable, and ultimately disapointing, kind of like Ocean's Twelve. I don't want to get off on another tangent, but am I the only one that thought Ocean's Twelve was one of the most uninteresting movies within the last five years)? For those that don't know the premise of this movie, for whatever blashemous reason, this movie features a runaway quasi-autistic kid who turns out to be the Shaquille O’Neil of Nintendo games. Remember how good I was in double dribble (or any other game for that matter)? He was kind of like that. This game made you want to pick up a game controller and start playing, even if Mom tried to hide the controllers in the washing machine or the headset of her waterbed. Remember when Mom tried to play Super Mario Bros. in Delano and all y'all tried to tell her how to do it...You drove her away from the game. She could've been one of the greats. You should all be ashamed of yourselves. This game alone inspired me to singlehandedly beat Bionic Commando, Metroid and Contra (needless to say, I didn't date much). Of course, no one got close to Dad's Duck Hunt skills.
CF Rating: 9 out 10
Airborne
How can you go wrong when the main antagonist of the movie has the name "Chocolate Stain Blaine"? You can't-- this movie has it all. It has so many different roller blading scenes, you keep waiting for it to be done but there's always another scene, kind of like Crocodile Dundee II (not that it's a bad thing); you get roller hockey, street/freestyle rollerblading, street racing. The movie focuses on the adventures of a misplaced California surfer/rollerblader who is forced to relocate to Minnesota to stay with his cousin Wiley (aka That Guy from Without a Paddle). This movie not only has a very high Compellability Factor, it also has a high Rewatchablity & Fast-Forwarability Factor (to the good parts.) Airborne drove me to play roller hockey with Trevor and his friends every day after school, rain or shine. You read that right-- Because of this movie, I would drag out the blue trash cans and play roller hockey with 11 and 12 year old kids in the street, all the while beating my chest and pumping my fists in the air after every goal (similar to NHL 94). Man, I was pathetic, and I loved every minute of it.
CF Rating: 9.8 out of 10
A movie's Compellability Factor has not been explored enough. If anything, I hope this has brought awareness to the phenomenon and that you may begin (if you haven't started already) to assess movies not only on their acting, storyline, plot, predictability, societal value, but also on its Compellability Factor...or not.
Monday, August 22, 2005
We'd like to reserve a room please...
I had a little inpsiration tonight to look on travelocity.com and see how much tickets to Salt Lake at Christmas time are running these days. Miraculously, in spite of gas costing $2.70/gallon here, Delta ticket prices dropped $120 since last Wednesday, so we booked our three seats. We will fly in to Salt Lake City at 9:59 am on Wednesday, December 14th, and fly out at 9:55 am on Wednesday, December 28th. We're a little sad that we can't spend more time after Christmas in Salt Lake, but we are cheap, and the last flight out with cheap seats left on the 28th. We plan to go visit my brother and do some rock climbing in St.George. We'll also stop in and see the newest Tustison boy. We're also planning a trip up to Grandma and Grandpa Nicholas's house on the way to my grandparents' house in Burley. Anyone who wants to tag along is welcome, but Grandma will stuff you with all sorts of treats and eats. Oh, Tio Trevor, Aiden wants to have a sleep over party with you, Sam, Riley, and Rhys ( you know, all the single guys) up in the loft. Be sure you reserve a night for the sleepover. See you all in December!
Wednesday, August 17, 2005
Dangit Napoleon, Make yourself a darn quesadilla!
The dust is settling, the proverbial light “at the end of the tunnel” has arrived, and Cougar football-talk is creating false hype and hope across internet binary code. This can mean only one thing: The Budget season is (almost) officially over. We adopt on September 15—the budget, that is.
For the last thirty-four days, I have been a slave to the Budget Document—we’ve worked every day, including Saturdays & Sundays, and averaged probably 11pm to midnight every night (or morning) with little or no food and water. Okay, maybe they let us eat and drink….but it was the eating and drinking that a high school coach would use: “For the next 3 months, you will be doing nothing but eating and drinking Budget….You listen to me you little maggots!!!!!” It started feeling like the mission again when you barely knew what day it was because all the days just rolled together into one. It was amazing because no one in the office could tell you right off hand what day it was. It all culminated last Sunday when we were here till 5:30 in the morning and had to be back by 9:30. I don’t get paid enough for this.
Anyway, why am I telling you this? I have no idea except to explain and rationalize my leave of absence from the beloved blog. I am writing to let everyone know that I am unshackling the chains of budget bondage and replacing them with a quill--which reminds me: Mike, I still think your brother-in-law (?) is cool for being a member of the S&Q Club (That's Sword & Quill club for you unlearned). I was always too intimidated to approach the girl wearing the chain-mail, peasant dress and dagger. Maybe Trevor will have more success. "I mean, it would look good on you're resume, right?"
Anyway, onto some random notes:
1. I'm more out of shape than Greg Ostertag. My diet for the last month has been Domino's Pizza, Spaghetti Warehouse and Chick Filet. My once-upon-a-time 24-inch pythons now rival even the most prolific and revered Relief Society arms in the country--my triceps have become uniceps. I've maxxed out at 194 pounds and, while you may not believe it, it wasn't/isn't all muscle. Remember that I came to San Antonio weighing in at 176. I can curl a chicken burger, bench press a pizza box and squat...well.... the only time I'm squatting is....never mind. I will forego posting a picture on the blog for all your benefit, but let's just say that I'm not in the best shape of my life. My hourglass figure is no more. I'll keep you posted...
2. I'm looking forward to some days off. Jenn and I are going to plan some trips around Texas and up to Oklahoma in the next few months. We want to visit Grandma and Grandpa T and wrestle some pigs, eat steak fingers or take a ride on the pontoon boat they bought. If we’re lucky we may even get to go the Indian Artifact store, and pick up some gifts for Christmas. Jenn's parents are also coming down in mid-October, so I'll probably take off a day or two to take them to the Alamo, River Walk, etc. On Monday I'm going to take the day off to run some errands, including getting my Texas driver's license, which will be a blog experience in itself. The only thing I'm looking forward to more than days off is the 2nd season of Desperate Housewives, which starts on September 25th. And don't act like you hadn’t marked your calendars...
3. I'm sure all of you remember when we used to play UTEP when we belonged to the WAC. Anyway, one of the Senior Analysts, who is very nice, approached us and said that she didn't appreciate the way BYU football fans treated other teams when they visited, and consequently was apprehensive in even giving us an interview (she was one of the three that interviewed me). Robby, fellow BYU grad, and I told her that all teams can be annoying and that we didn't think BYU was necessarily an aberration to having annoying fans. Abruptly she says, "No one else threw tortillas at our team just because we are mostly Mexican!" We thought she was completely joking but she said that it was the buzz on campus when we played them in football--nasty editorials, water cooler talk, and backlash against our Institute buildings (I'm guessing). Even UTEP alumnus Sam Donaldson stopped taking the discussions because of it (spread rumor at will). I guess when we played there, they would boo us really bad because of the alleged bigotry involving tortillas. After telling her that we threw tortillas at every game, we told her it was her duty and obligation to let all fellow alumni know that we are good people. We even tossed the edible discs when Notre Dame came to town and anyone who has see ‘Rudy’ knows there weren’t any visible Mexican-Americans. I told her that at least half the crowd most likely spoke Spanish and that many had been immersed in. Anyway, if you happen to interact with a UTEP alumnus, please let them in on the true tortilla story. We need to take out an Ad in UTEP's paper. I feel very strongly about this. And Clint, if Mayka doesn't read this, let her know also that there was no need to be offended.
4. I was back at church for the first time today in a month and found out that the teacher's advisor hasn't been there for the last three weeks. I ended up teaching the boys and I must say that these guys are still crazy. I mean, I don't care if they listen or not but when they start tackling each other in the middle of class for no apparent reason, you leave convinced that these kids are indeed brain damaged. I had to raise my voice a couple of times. The most unruly of them all is the bishop's son, who has an attention span of approximately .032 seconds. As Jenn would innocently say "He's the opposite of a 'Goody Tissues.'" Jenn substituted for the sunbeams which meant that we had something in common: we both taught 3-year olds.
5. Napoleon Dynamite is huge here; its characteristics are reminiscent of my high school days--started out relatively unknown, reputation spread like wildfire, and eventually became very popular, successful and oft quoted. Everyone loves when I quote Napoleon (even though I've only seen it twice). The best part is when someone in the office uses harsher language when they quote it. I laugh and remind them that Napoleon didn't exactly use the f-word before his famed "Idiot" response. Undoubtedly, they never believe me. Yes, these are my co-workers.
For the last thirty-four days, I have been a slave to the Budget Document—we’ve worked every day, including Saturdays & Sundays, and averaged probably 11pm to midnight every night (or morning) with little or no food and water. Okay, maybe they let us eat and drink….but it was the eating and drinking that a high school coach would use: “For the next 3 months, you will be doing nothing but eating and drinking Budget….You listen to me you little maggots!!!!!” It started feeling like the mission again when you barely knew what day it was because all the days just rolled together into one. It was amazing because no one in the office could tell you right off hand what day it was. It all culminated last Sunday when we were here till 5:30 in the morning and had to be back by 9:30. I don’t get paid enough for this.
Anyway, why am I telling you this? I have no idea except to explain and rationalize my leave of absence from the beloved blog. I am writing to let everyone know that I am unshackling the chains of budget bondage and replacing them with a quill--which reminds me: Mike, I still think your brother-in-law (?) is cool for being a member of the S&Q Club (That's Sword & Quill club for you unlearned). I was always too intimidated to approach the girl wearing the chain-mail, peasant dress and dagger. Maybe Trevor will have more success. "I mean, it would look good on you're resume, right?"
Anyway, onto some random notes:
1. I'm more out of shape than Greg Ostertag. My diet for the last month has been Domino's Pizza, Spaghetti Warehouse and Chick Filet. My once-upon-a-time 24-inch pythons now rival even the most prolific and revered Relief Society arms in the country--my triceps have become uniceps. I've maxxed out at 194 pounds and, while you may not believe it, it wasn't/isn't all muscle. Remember that I came to San Antonio weighing in at 176. I can curl a chicken burger, bench press a pizza box and squat...well.... the only time I'm squatting is....never mind. I will forego posting a picture on the blog for all your benefit, but let's just say that I'm not in the best shape of my life. My hourglass figure is no more. I'll keep you posted...
2. I'm looking forward to some days off. Jenn and I are going to plan some trips around Texas and up to Oklahoma in the next few months. We want to visit Grandma and Grandpa T and wrestle some pigs, eat steak fingers or take a ride on the pontoon boat they bought. If we’re lucky we may even get to go the Indian Artifact store, and pick up some gifts for Christmas. Jenn's parents are also coming down in mid-October, so I'll probably take off a day or two to take them to the Alamo, River Walk, etc. On Monday I'm going to take the day off to run some errands, including getting my Texas driver's license, which will be a blog experience in itself. The only thing I'm looking forward to more than days off is the 2nd season of Desperate Housewives, which starts on September 25th. And don't act like you hadn’t marked your calendars...
3. I'm sure all of you remember when we used to play UTEP when we belonged to the WAC. Anyway, one of the Senior Analysts, who is very nice, approached us and said that she didn't appreciate the way BYU football fans treated other teams when they visited, and consequently was apprehensive in even giving us an interview (she was one of the three that interviewed me). Robby, fellow BYU grad, and I told her that all teams can be annoying and that we didn't think BYU was necessarily an aberration to having annoying fans. Abruptly she says, "No one else threw tortillas at our team just because we are mostly Mexican!" We thought she was completely joking but she said that it was the buzz on campus when we played them in football--nasty editorials, water cooler talk, and backlash against our Institute buildings (I'm guessing). Even UTEP alumnus Sam Donaldson stopped taking the discussions because of it (spread rumor at will). I guess when we played there, they would boo us really bad because of the alleged bigotry involving tortillas. After telling her that we threw tortillas at every game, we told her it was her duty and obligation to let all fellow alumni know that we are good people. We even tossed the edible discs when Notre Dame came to town and anyone who has see ‘Rudy’ knows there weren’t any visible Mexican-Americans. I told her that at least half the crowd most likely spoke Spanish and that many had been immersed in. Anyway, if you happen to interact with a UTEP alumnus, please let them in on the true tortilla story. We need to take out an Ad in UTEP's paper. I feel very strongly about this. And Clint, if Mayka doesn't read this, let her know also that there was no need to be offended.
4. I was back at church for the first time today in a month and found out that the teacher's advisor hasn't been there for the last three weeks. I ended up teaching the boys and I must say that these guys are still crazy. I mean, I don't care if they listen or not but when they start tackling each other in the middle of class for no apparent reason, you leave convinced that these kids are indeed brain damaged. I had to raise my voice a couple of times. The most unruly of them all is the bishop's son, who has an attention span of approximately .032 seconds. As Jenn would innocently say "He's the opposite of a 'Goody Tissues.'" Jenn substituted for the sunbeams which meant that we had something in common: we both taught 3-year olds.
5. Napoleon Dynamite is huge here; its characteristics are reminiscent of my high school days--started out relatively unknown, reputation spread like wildfire, and eventually became very popular, successful and oft quoted. Everyone loves when I quote Napoleon (even though I've only seen it twice). The best part is when someone in the office uses harsher language when they quote it. I laugh and remind them that Napoleon didn't exactly use the f-word before his famed "Idiot" response. Undoubtedly, they never believe me. Yes, these are my co-workers.
Monday, August 15, 2005
Childhood Memories
Well, all those of the Tustison alma mater can recognized these images that I have now presented on the blog. Mom and I were getting ready the guest bedroom to paint when mother pulled uncovered this object that we all became too comfortable with in our adolescent years. So, with this in mind, lets hope to spark up some debate as to who became more familiar with this family heirloom. Of course, I have to say that I had received more of dad's vehement paddlings despite the fact of being the youngest and supposedly the most conceited. I must remind the family of the time when I was sentenced to even lie down with the board to learn my lesson. So the vote here is for Trevor. The floor is now open.
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
Daytime TV
I am so happy to be home these six weeks. I never realized what a plethora of informative and awe-inspiring programs there are on TV. I would have never known that Jermaine IS NOT the father of Shontella's baby, Dominica. Shontella has been back five times and says she is 1000% sure this time. I feel so bad for her. And Sonny has been cheating on Billy Bubba and said the lie detector is not true and she denies everthing. What a brouhaha!!!! Maury Povich is such a well respected journalist and he has turned down several top jobs to help these people with his insight and knowledgeable counselling. What a trooper!!! I don't know what I will do when I go back to work. I guess I'll have to learn how to record. Just thought you would like to know.
Monday, July 25, 2005
He's back...
The Kings will send guard Bobby Jackson to the Grizzlies -- a moved Jackson also confirmed to SportsTicker -- and center Greg Ostertag back to Utah for a second tour of duty with the Jazz.
Utah also would send guard Raul Lopez and Kirk Snyder and forward Curtis Borchardt to Memphis.
Yeeeeesssssssss! This is the way to put the Jazz back on top. Too bad we couldn't find a way to get Vlade included in the deal.
Utah also would send guard Raul Lopez and Kirk Snyder and forward Curtis Borchardt to Memphis.
Yeeeeesssssssss! This is the way to put the Jazz back on top. Too bad we couldn't find a way to get Vlade included in the deal.
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
Not the best of parents
We often leave Aiden in the tub to play, but lately he has started sneaking out and grabbing anything he can find in the bathroom to throw into the tub. Most recently he found his Dora the Explorer potty-seat and climbed back in the tub with it. He must have put his head through the hole one direction then rotated so that he couldn't get his head back out. He started screaming for me, so I ran in to check. I am rather certain that one day I will be punished for this, but I just started laughing at him standing there whining "Dora-off!" When I was able to stop laughing, I ran to get Nick, who also came in and started laughing, and then I ran for the camera to snap a few quick pictures before I set him free. If you are at all grossed out by the idea of a toilet seat around his neck, let me assure you he has not yet succeeded in using the seat for anything other than to trap his now overly large head.
Tuesday, July 19, 2005
Just Reason to be made fun of
Yes, I realize by finally making my presence known here on the blog is just reason for everyone to make fun of me, however, I partly believe that as the youngest, that is my role in this family...the comic relief. Well, bring it on fam.
Yes, so about a week ago, I am talking to Zach and he tells me, "I am such a loser. I have been home two months and I haven't gone on a date." So is that what constitutes a loser? So the dude has been pouting about saying how much of a loser he is. So what does he do? Well, he tries to force everything. The other day, he tells me of one of his "fine-looking" co-workers and how he wants to go on a date with her. Apart from being his co-worker she is in his social dance class so he invites her to 'practice' the dance moves with him one day. Well, she accepts and is agreed to the appointment. Well, while at work, what happens? Her boyfriend comes while at work. That made me laugh quite a bit. I have always been a person against forcing dating situations. I was reading the past blogs and mom mentions of my formidable reputation of being the "girls asking me" king. There is the key. In dating life, subtleness is what counts. Forcing dating opportunities and awkward social moments only lead to embarrassment. My personal experience has led me to believe that just throwing out little bits of personality at those unawkward moments are key. You know what. I think I might go on to produce my own version of "Hitch." However, ways to get the girl to ask you. Oh Yeah.
Well, there it is, family. Bring on the jokes.
Bythe way, mom, I am glad you are feeling fine.
Yes, so about a week ago, I am talking to Zach and he tells me, "I am such a loser. I have been home two months and I haven't gone on a date." So is that what constitutes a loser? So the dude has been pouting about saying how much of a loser he is. So what does he do? Well, he tries to force everything. The other day, he tells me of one of his "fine-looking" co-workers and how he wants to go on a date with her. Apart from being his co-worker she is in his social dance class so he invites her to 'practice' the dance moves with him one day. Well, she accepts and is agreed to the appointment. Well, while at work, what happens? Her boyfriend comes while at work. That made me laugh quite a bit. I have always been a person against forcing dating situations. I was reading the past blogs and mom mentions of my formidable reputation of being the "girls asking me" king. There is the key. In dating life, subtleness is what counts. Forcing dating opportunities and awkward social moments only lead to embarrassment. My personal experience has led me to believe that just throwing out little bits of personality at those unawkward moments are key. You know what. I think I might go on to produce my own version of "Hitch." However, ways to get the girl to ask you. Oh Yeah.
Well, there it is, family. Bring on the jokes.
Bythe way, mom, I am glad you are feeling fine.
Monday, July 18, 2005
Fun and Relaxation
Well, I think I am on the mend now, and I just want to thank everyone for their good wishes and caring remarks. The surgery went okay but the headaches were making me miserable. So today I went back into the hospital and they did a blood patch on me. The last time I had one of those was 25 years ago. It wasn't without tortue and pain. But it did rein in the headaches and now I can read Harry Potter and the like without taxing my head (brain). Dad is an excellent caregiver and he won't let me do anything. I can't even go downstairs without checking with him first. He is great. Anyway, thanks for being such a great family. Without sounding too maudlin, I love you all very much.
Thursday, July 14, 2005
Tomatoes
In the past I have had successful tomato plants, but this year all I have so far is cherry tomatoes. These are pictues of the plants Jenn left me when they migrated to the heat of Texas. They are over four feet tall and note the green tomatoes. Too bad they will be gone by Christmas... By the way there is one peper plant in front of the tomato plant.
Christmas
We are excited to have the family together for Christmas. We thought we should outline some information that will be useful.
1. It looks like we are trying for the week following Christmas as the time to be here. All are welcome for as long as they want to stay, but mom has days off the week following Christmas, and Mike can not get off until late Christmas Eve.
2. This is to confirm that we will be providing $100.00 per person to help with travel expenses. Please let us know when you need the money and we will send it. If you need to get tickets soon, just let us know and we will send the money. If you need a credit card to purchase the tickets let us know and we will help with that too.
3. Please let us know of any special transportation requests if you are flying in. Car seats, cars for additional trips, etc.
4. The transportation assistance will be the primary gift for all this Christmas from Mom & Dad. We would encourage all to keep spending limited.
5. As for stocking stuff... We will fill stockings this year, but if you have something special you want to get or give that is up to you.
6. Meal assignments will be forthcoming. Start thinking what you/your family would like to make. We will provide the ingredients, but you get to plan and cook. We expect that Trevor will be with mom and dad.
7. There will be a family picture…
1. It looks like we are trying for the week following Christmas as the time to be here. All are welcome for as long as they want to stay, but mom has days off the week following Christmas, and Mike can not get off until late Christmas Eve.
2. This is to confirm that we will be providing $100.00 per person to help with travel expenses. Please let us know when you need the money and we will send it. If you need to get tickets soon, just let us know and we will send the money. If you need a credit card to purchase the tickets let us know and we will help with that too.
3. Please let us know of any special transportation requests if you are flying in. Car seats, cars for additional trips, etc.
4. The transportation assistance will be the primary gift for all this Christmas from Mom & Dad. We would encourage all to keep spending limited.
5. As for stocking stuff... We will fill stockings this year, but if you have something special you want to get or give that is up to you.
6. Meal assignments will be forthcoming. Start thinking what you/your family would like to make. We will provide the ingredients, but you get to plan and cook. We expect that Trevor will be with mom and dad.
7. There will be a family picture…
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
Monday, July 11, 2005
Hair's an idea... (Ha, ha)
In regards to the hair comments earlier, I think Trevor should have Mayka and Kim draw straws to see who gets to cut his hair at Christmas. Maybe they can tag-team.
Or wait, who has Trevor for Christmas? Does a haircut count as a homemade gift?
Or wait, who has Trevor for Christmas? Does a haircut count as a homemade gift?
Trevor's Talk
The following is Trevors talk for 9th ward sacrament meeting:
“And the Spirit shall be given unto you by the prayer of faith; and if ye receive not the Spirit ye shall not teach.”[1] In this afternoon nothing would please me more than to have your prayers with me as I give this brief talk over the effect of the gospel in our lives. And it is apparent that through the constant pleas that I have made with my Father in Heaven, I hope that this teaching spirit will be given to me.
Well, I might as well introduce myself once more. My name is Trevor Tustison and I had the privilege of serving a full time mission in Mexico City. In this time that I had to serve my Heavenly Father, I had the chance to really see the miracles that are performed by him and to realize the hand he plays in our existence.
When I left for my mission my parents asked me what scripture I would like to put on my missionary plaque and this scripture demonstrates very well the point I would like to make this afternoon. The reference is Alma 26:12.
Yea, I know that I am nothing; as to my strength I am weak; therefore I will not boast of myself, but I will boast of my God, for in his strength I can do all things; yea, behold, many mighty miracles we have wrought in this land, for which we will praise his name forever.[2]
This scripture had an especially powerful significance for me before the mission but once in the mission I had the chance to see the meaning of it self-explained more in-depth. So what I'll do is take this scripture apart a little bit and explain what I have understood of these simple phrases.
The first one being: “Yea, I know that I am nothing; as to my strength I am weak.” Lets take a moment and realize that these are the words of one of thee most successful missionaries of all time. This comes from the same person that left his home for fourteen years, fought solo against the enemies of the king he was serving, he brought thousands of people to the gospel and so much was his influence over these people that they called themselves his people. We all know that we are speaking of Ammon. After so much success that he had had, he admits to his brother Aaron, that he is nothing and that his strength is limited. What do we recognize this as…humility. Our Father in Heaven has always required at the hand of His servants this heavenly gift of humilty to bring to pass His purposes. I would just like to clear up confusion that I had had and maybe some members have that may need clearing up. The humility is sometimes mistaken as shyness, as being timid, as saying to oneself that they will never be successful in anything. That is not humility. We read from the example that Ammon put, that we must put our priorities in how we think, how we are, and how we act. His attitude in showing the power that was in him to gain the confidence of his fellow servants was key in preaching the gospel. Are we shy about sharing the gospel? Are we timid when we are asked to bear our testimony to our neighbors? Do we honestly think that our Father in Heaven wants to hear us say that we won’t be successful in the predication of the gospel? Those feelings of inadequacy are actually the opposite of humility and won’t carry us closer to share the love God has for us. There is a great quote by the prophet Ezra Taft Benson over what is humility. He says “The Lord has said that no one can assist with this work who is not humble and full of love. But humility does not mean weakness. It does not mean timidity; it does not mean fear. A man can be humble and fearless. A man can be humble and courageous. Humility is the recognition of our dependence upon a higher power, a constant need for the Lord’s support in His work.”[3] In other words we must depend on the Lord and recognize his omnipotence. Joseph Smith was fourteen year old when he received the visit from the God the Father and His Son Jesus Christ. At the age of seventeen he was told about the gold plates and at the age of 21 he received them. But along with all the revelations he received, came along with it all the persecution. However, despite the persecution he received and the little education he had, he went on to translate the Book of Mormon: Another Testament of Jesus Christ. He went on to restore the true authority of the gospel and bring to pass the restoration of the church of Jesus Christ. He brought back the correct form of baptism and other important ordinances. He was a simple farm boy brought on to restore the greatest work this world has known. He was truly a person that recognized his weaknesses but did not let them interfere in the work of the Father. Joseph Smith once said “I never told you I was perfect; but there is no error in the revelations which I have taught.” But simply recognizing the presence of ones weaknesses will make your life any better. Ammon didn’t leave it at that…
“…therefore I will not boast of myself, but I will boast of my God, for in His strength I can do all things.” There was the answer I was looking for in that desperate time. And that is what I decided to do. I decided to kneel down and pray and recognize who it was that could help me. And that help came and through that personal experience I know who will help me as long as I will boast in His strength. Through other personal experiences that I have had, I know that it is not us that is in charge over a certain work. Our Father in Heaven is so concerned with our well-being in this life that all he asks of us is that we get off our own throne and start recognizing the superior being in our lives. We must recognize that simply saying “We cant do this” or “ it isn’t possible to complete this task” or even worse “He won’t accept the gospel”…these sayings won’t help us, so why do we think them? In Mexico, the people there are very receptive to the gospel. They are ready to accept the truth. But in my experience as a missionary in Mexico, the great majority of those that were baptized and confirmed members of the church were references from other members. What would happen in the true church of Jesus Christ if every member knew that with God’s strength they could find a friend, neighbor, family member that isn’t a member of the church and invite them to hear the gospel? We hear from leaders of the church that we should preach the gospel through our example, but for those of you who are here, is that really difficult? Shouldn’t all of you put the emphasis on preaching the gospel with words and invitations? One principle I learned in my mission is that without commitments an investigator will not progress. We must commit our friends to attend church, to hear the missionaries, to have family home evenings, and…and to get baptized. There was one particular instance in my mission when I understood the importance of member work. There was a couple that worked in an outside car place where they sold old car parts.
The Experience of Rogelio and Ericka
Letter
Thank you for sending your letter. You don’t know how happy we all were to receive it. I want to tell you that we miss you a lot. I hope to chat with you a lot of things. In fact, after my baptism, my sister Andrea, and my niece Mirza were baptized. Eight days later three of my nieces and nephews were baptized. And next my sister Ana will be baptized and all of this thanks to you and to our Father in Heaven. I never thought that after entering into the baptism of Rogelio, it would make all these changes in my family, but only God knows what He has destined for every one of us but those are the paths of God. I would also like to tell you Rogelio and I will complete 14 years of marriage on the 11 of October and probably when we complete 16 years of marriage, we may get sealed in the temple.
I love that family and when I received that letter, I don’t remember a time when I was happier. Sometimes out of curiosity I have asked myself, what would’ve happened had that family said, “No, don’t worry about him. He is atheist.” We must recognize that EVERY person on this planet should have the chance to accept the gospel. I promise to each of you, that if you will all pray for those missionary moments, for those times to be able to preach the gospel, and put your confidence in Him, he will give those moments to you. I know that.
About twenty-one months ago, I thought “I cant do this.” But in His strength I could do all things and will be able to do all things as will every one of you.
Well, what Ammon said next has had so much significance on me. “For behold, many mighty miracles we have wrought in this land for which we will praise His name forever.” As I said, I had the chance to see many miracles, and I believe that to be the miracle of baptism. The chance that people have to enter into the Kingdom of God through baptism and receive the remission of their sins is a huge blessing. A miracle is defined as an extraordinary event manifesting divine intervention in human affairs. What do you get when you send 19 year old boys on the mission trying to help others who have had double the experience receive a baptism in the true Church of Christ? You get miracles. The biggest miracle that has happened in this earth was the atoning sacrifice of Jesus Christ. He broke the bands of physical death for everyone. Thanks to Him, death wont end our existence. He made it possible for everyone that has lived in this world, who lives in this world, and who will yet live in it to brake the chains of their own sins and return to our Father in Heaven; on the conditions that we have faith, we repent of our sins, get baptized in the true church, be confirmed members of it, and keep going on the path to eternal life. I am so grateful that our Father in Heaven has let us partake of this huge miracle of receiving a rest from the terrible load of offenses that we have made and have the chance to receive life with our Celestial Father. As it says in John, “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.”[4] I am so grateful for the mission and what it has done for me and for what I could do for my Father. I had the chance to see a huge miracle in my testimony. I could sense its growth in me the more involved I was in the work. In the beginning of my mission times were tough, but I received a letter from my father that helped me out a lot. He wrote this. “Dear Trevor, I am between meetings so wanted to drop you a note. This morning at High Council meeting there was a missionary returned from Russia. It was great to hear his testimony and I was thinking about the growth your testimony will have over the next while. We were reminded that testimony growth often comes after times of trial or difficulty. I know that is the cast in my life. Maybe something that will have meaning to you in the future.” That scripture was a huge boost for me to help me overcome my feelings of nostalgia and inadequacy and taught me a great principle. Thanks to this mission, I was able to receive the testimony builder I needed to stay strong in the gospel of Jesus Christ. But a testimony is never perfect. It needs to be cared for and nourished, as we read from the scriptures. I love my Father in Heaven for the help he has given me and for the miracles that he has allowed me to see and for the miracles he has planned for all of us.
Bear Testimony. Cool, yeah.
En el nombre de Jesucristo. Amen.
[1] D & C 42:14
[2] Alma 26:12
[3] Ezra Taft Benson, “Keys to Successful Member-Missionary Work,” Tambuli, Apr. 1991, 3
[4] John 3:16
“And the Spirit shall be given unto you by the prayer of faith; and if ye receive not the Spirit ye shall not teach.”[1] In this afternoon nothing would please me more than to have your prayers with me as I give this brief talk over the effect of the gospel in our lives. And it is apparent that through the constant pleas that I have made with my Father in Heaven, I hope that this teaching spirit will be given to me.
Well, I might as well introduce myself once more. My name is Trevor Tustison and I had the privilege of serving a full time mission in Mexico City. In this time that I had to serve my Heavenly Father, I had the chance to really see the miracles that are performed by him and to realize the hand he plays in our existence.
When I left for my mission my parents asked me what scripture I would like to put on my missionary plaque and this scripture demonstrates very well the point I would like to make this afternoon. The reference is Alma 26:12.
Yea, I know that I am nothing; as to my strength I am weak; therefore I will not boast of myself, but I will boast of my God, for in his strength I can do all things; yea, behold, many mighty miracles we have wrought in this land, for which we will praise his name forever.[2]
This scripture had an especially powerful significance for me before the mission but once in the mission I had the chance to see the meaning of it self-explained more in-depth. So what I'll do is take this scripture apart a little bit and explain what I have understood of these simple phrases.
The first one being: “Yea, I know that I am nothing; as to my strength I am weak.” Lets take a moment and realize that these are the words of one of thee most successful missionaries of all time. This comes from the same person that left his home for fourteen years, fought solo against the enemies of the king he was serving, he brought thousands of people to the gospel and so much was his influence over these people that they called themselves his people. We all know that we are speaking of Ammon. After so much success that he had had, he admits to his brother Aaron, that he is nothing and that his strength is limited. What do we recognize this as…humility. Our Father in Heaven has always required at the hand of His servants this heavenly gift of humilty to bring to pass His purposes. I would just like to clear up confusion that I had had and maybe some members have that may need clearing up. The humility is sometimes mistaken as shyness, as being timid, as saying to oneself that they will never be successful in anything. That is not humility. We read from the example that Ammon put, that we must put our priorities in how we think, how we are, and how we act. His attitude in showing the power that was in him to gain the confidence of his fellow servants was key in preaching the gospel. Are we shy about sharing the gospel? Are we timid when we are asked to bear our testimony to our neighbors? Do we honestly think that our Father in Heaven wants to hear us say that we won’t be successful in the predication of the gospel? Those feelings of inadequacy are actually the opposite of humility and won’t carry us closer to share the love God has for us. There is a great quote by the prophet Ezra Taft Benson over what is humility. He says “The Lord has said that no one can assist with this work who is not humble and full of love. But humility does not mean weakness. It does not mean timidity; it does not mean fear. A man can be humble and fearless. A man can be humble and courageous. Humility is the recognition of our dependence upon a higher power, a constant need for the Lord’s support in His work.”[3] In other words we must depend on the Lord and recognize his omnipotence. Joseph Smith was fourteen year old when he received the visit from the God the Father and His Son Jesus Christ. At the age of seventeen he was told about the gold plates and at the age of 21 he received them. But along with all the revelations he received, came along with it all the persecution. However, despite the persecution he received and the little education he had, he went on to translate the Book of Mormon: Another Testament of Jesus Christ. He went on to restore the true authority of the gospel and bring to pass the restoration of the church of Jesus Christ. He brought back the correct form of baptism and other important ordinances. He was a simple farm boy brought on to restore the greatest work this world has known. He was truly a person that recognized his weaknesses but did not let them interfere in the work of the Father. Joseph Smith once said “I never told you I was perfect; but there is no error in the revelations which I have taught.” But simply recognizing the presence of ones weaknesses will make your life any better. Ammon didn’t leave it at that…
“…therefore I will not boast of myself, but I will boast of my God, for in His strength I can do all things.” There was the answer I was looking for in that desperate time. And that is what I decided to do. I decided to kneel down and pray and recognize who it was that could help me. And that help came and through that personal experience I know who will help me as long as I will boast in His strength. Through other personal experiences that I have had, I know that it is not us that is in charge over a certain work. Our Father in Heaven is so concerned with our well-being in this life that all he asks of us is that we get off our own throne and start recognizing the superior being in our lives. We must recognize that simply saying “We cant do this” or “ it isn’t possible to complete this task” or even worse “He won’t accept the gospel”…these sayings won’t help us, so why do we think them? In Mexico, the people there are very receptive to the gospel. They are ready to accept the truth. But in my experience as a missionary in Mexico, the great majority of those that were baptized and confirmed members of the church were references from other members. What would happen in the true church of Jesus Christ if every member knew that with God’s strength they could find a friend, neighbor, family member that isn’t a member of the church and invite them to hear the gospel? We hear from leaders of the church that we should preach the gospel through our example, but for those of you who are here, is that really difficult? Shouldn’t all of you put the emphasis on preaching the gospel with words and invitations? One principle I learned in my mission is that without commitments an investigator will not progress. We must commit our friends to attend church, to hear the missionaries, to have family home evenings, and…and to get baptized. There was one particular instance in my mission when I understood the importance of member work. There was a couple that worked in an outside car place where they sold old car parts.
The Experience of Rogelio and Ericka
Letter
Thank you for sending your letter. You don’t know how happy we all were to receive it. I want to tell you that we miss you a lot. I hope to chat with you a lot of things. In fact, after my baptism, my sister Andrea, and my niece Mirza were baptized. Eight days later three of my nieces and nephews were baptized. And next my sister Ana will be baptized and all of this thanks to you and to our Father in Heaven. I never thought that after entering into the baptism of Rogelio, it would make all these changes in my family, but only God knows what He has destined for every one of us but those are the paths of God. I would also like to tell you Rogelio and I will complete 14 years of marriage on the 11 of October and probably when we complete 16 years of marriage, we may get sealed in the temple.
I love that family and when I received that letter, I don’t remember a time when I was happier. Sometimes out of curiosity I have asked myself, what would’ve happened had that family said, “No, don’t worry about him. He is atheist.” We must recognize that EVERY person on this planet should have the chance to accept the gospel. I promise to each of you, that if you will all pray for those missionary moments, for those times to be able to preach the gospel, and put your confidence in Him, he will give those moments to you. I know that.
About twenty-one months ago, I thought “I cant do this.” But in His strength I could do all things and will be able to do all things as will every one of you.
Well, what Ammon said next has had so much significance on me. “For behold, many mighty miracles we have wrought in this land for which we will praise His name forever.” As I said, I had the chance to see many miracles, and I believe that to be the miracle of baptism. The chance that people have to enter into the Kingdom of God through baptism and receive the remission of their sins is a huge blessing. A miracle is defined as an extraordinary event manifesting divine intervention in human affairs. What do you get when you send 19 year old boys on the mission trying to help others who have had double the experience receive a baptism in the true Church of Christ? You get miracles. The biggest miracle that has happened in this earth was the atoning sacrifice of Jesus Christ. He broke the bands of physical death for everyone. Thanks to Him, death wont end our existence. He made it possible for everyone that has lived in this world, who lives in this world, and who will yet live in it to brake the chains of their own sins and return to our Father in Heaven; on the conditions that we have faith, we repent of our sins, get baptized in the true church, be confirmed members of it, and keep going on the path to eternal life. I am so grateful that our Father in Heaven has let us partake of this huge miracle of receiving a rest from the terrible load of offenses that we have made and have the chance to receive life with our Celestial Father. As it says in John, “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.”[4] I am so grateful for the mission and what it has done for me and for what I could do for my Father. I had the chance to see a huge miracle in my testimony. I could sense its growth in me the more involved I was in the work. In the beginning of my mission times were tough, but I received a letter from my father that helped me out a lot. He wrote this. “Dear Trevor, I am between meetings so wanted to drop you a note. This morning at High Council meeting there was a missionary returned from Russia. It was great to hear his testimony and I was thinking about the growth your testimony will have over the next while. We were reminded that testimony growth often comes after times of trial or difficulty. I know that is the cast in my life. Maybe something that will have meaning to you in the future.” That scripture was a huge boost for me to help me overcome my feelings of nostalgia and inadequacy and taught me a great principle. Thanks to this mission, I was able to receive the testimony builder I needed to stay strong in the gospel of Jesus Christ. But a testimony is never perfect. It needs to be cared for and nourished, as we read from the scriptures. I love my Father in Heaven for the help he has given me and for the miracles that he has allowed me to see and for the miracles he has planned for all of us.
Bear Testimony. Cool, yeah.
En el nombre de Jesucristo. Amen.
[1] D & C 42:14
[2] Alma 26:12
[3] Ezra Taft Benson, “Keys to Successful Member-Missionary Work,” Tambuli, Apr. 1991, 3
[4] John 3:16
SICK!!!!!!!
OK I don't mean sick in the flu sense, or even in the, man that ollie was "sick" sense. I don't even mean it in the, I have sick senses instead of five senses, sense. I mean it in the most disgusting thing that has ever happened to me in my entire life....SICK sense. Right....so I was in the back room at Staples looking something up on a computer and my leg started itching. Nothing unusual about that with the humidity in St. George hovering around 3% this last week. Something strange then began to happen, the itch started moving up and down the lower part of my leg. I thought for sure half the skin on my leg was going to fall off. At long last, after a bit of dancing on my part, a cockroach....YES A COCKROACH fell out of my pant leg. Now if this is not an incentive to be more active and never sit down at work again I don't know what is. Apparently St. George with all its beauty has a roach problem. This makes the housing prices of $350,000 for a 1200 sq. ft. home sound so much more reasonable, but I'll leave this for another Blog.
Saturday, July 09, 2005
Chad made me a theif!
Have you all heard that cheesy moromon tale of a theif in church who was irreverent and stole the spirit? Well, I turned into a thief at church last week, but not that kind. I am now the hardened criminal type who picks up things that aren't hers and takes them. In my defense, I think I have drawn Chad's name for Christmas four out of eight years and I get the sense that he really doesn't like sweaters from Eddie Bauer or any of the other preppy stuff I have tried. Okay, so maybe I am exaggerating and that was the only gift I have ever given Chad, but I saw the coolest thing in the lost and found at church when we first moved in. The first time I saw it, I knew Clint and Chad would have a robot dance-off to compete for this particular item. Well, 11 months later, it was still in the lost and found, and I drew Chad's name for Christmas. The last time I saw it, I just picked it up, stuck it in my purse, and walked out with it. I can't wait for Christmas now to get rid of this guilt reminder of what a sinner I am, but also to see if I can actually tell what Chad thinks is cool by now, eight years later. See you all then!
Wednesday, July 06, 2005
Weight Gain
just to let everyone know, i had a doctors appointment yesterday and i gained 13 lbs in one month! Yikes! however, he said it was just fine since overall i've gained 15. Good, i thought, bring on some more food.
Tuesday, July 05, 2005
Bottlerockets Anyone?!?!?
Howdy from Texas y’all, home of the NBA World Champions, Mr. President, the Alamo, and most importantly, Judge Larry Joe from Texas Justice. Anyway, I hope everyone enjoyed their day off. Jenn and I were invited to hang out with some friends at this lake area but the plans quickly fell apart in ways that would take too long to explain. At the end of the day, Jenn and I cooked hamburgers on the George Foreman, tickled our painting fancies (did that make sense) and straightened up around the house.
Anyway, enough with the pleasantries, let’s get down to business. Something of controversy has found its way into the hallowed halls of our beloved dwelling. What is it you ask? Is it the recent vacancy in the Supreme Court; is it our porous borders; or is it the situation in Iraq. No, my friends, I’m talking about something big, flashy and short-lived—and no, I’m not talking about Clint’s uber-orange Kriss Kross shorts. I’m talking about the big lights that brighten skies all over the country every 4th of July. Maybe it’s the Grinch in me, but fireworks are as exciting as pulling out all my (overgrown) armpit hairs. Because of some information malfunctions with some friends of ours, we ended up back at home, away from a “fireworks-in-the-park type of celebration. Because of this, I knew there would be no “fireworks” at home unless I rectified the situation. It was a bumpy road.
Husband’s note: Fireworks on the TV and fireworks in person are not the same, nor ever will be as long as I am alive (which may not be very long).
Anyway, while watching a TV celebration, Jenn and I had a conversation on said topic and I’d thought I share some actual quotes and actual observations from my actual wife (who is very beautiful and very understanding).
Fireworks are cool if you’re right underneath them because they’re big and you feel the source of the sound.
Well, first off, if you’re right underneath the fireworks, you somehow got past security. Second, if all you want is big and lot’s of sound, I saw a 52” plasma TV with HD capabilities at Best Buy. I still don’t understand what the big deal is. You just come home from the park with a ring in your ears and a kinked neck, kind of like when you sit on the front row in a movie theater—and no one wants that.
It’s just amazing to see something actually explode
Now, I must say that on the surface, this seems like a valid point. It is the one time when exploding things is legal. I feel I must note, however, that someone else exploding something, and you actually exploding something is very, very different. Of course, blowing up happens frequently here, just ask the Piston’s 4th quarter defense and anyone who eats at Taco Cabana.
Will you take me to Boston next year?
Let me explain this quote by saying that the Boston Pops and Utah’s beloved Keith Lockhart did a special last night on CBS. Like us, I’m sure you were all flipping between the 4th of July special and re-runs of Seinfeld on PAX because those are the only two channels you get… Anyway, with panoramic crowd shots, loads of lighting, and lots of camera flashes, Boston seemed to have a pulse—which is more than I can say for Kevin O’Connor on draft day. One scouting report I read on Deron Williams said he is (paraphrasing) “big for a point guard, not very quick, and an average shooter. Great all-around.” Did I miss something? Where is he great all around? What, just ‘cause he wears 46-inch Dockers. I hope I’m proven wrong. And the second pick, who’s name I forgot, was described as (paraphrasing) “pretty athletic, fundamentally immature, must improve outside shooting. Favorably compared to Deshawn Stevenson.” Jazz Fans: Be very, very scared. (pulling sheets over my head).
And Clint, I know I always said he was my boy and what not. Well…err..uhh…JUST BACK OFF, ALRIGHT!!!
Yet I digress...
The finale makes or breaks the show. With a weak finale... well, the finale makes it worth it. You feel like you’ve wasted your time without a great finale.
Quick, call Guinness, I think my wife just broke the world record using the word finale 4 times in 7 seconds. I think she just likes saying the word. By the way, I was just learned that it is pronounced “finawlee”, not Finale with a short ‘a’—and I’m the one with the Master’s degree, whatever that means. I should petition the expertise of Mom, whose knowledge in the French language is unmatched—(Do you still put that on your resume)? “I mean, it’s a good language, right?”
Anyway, I told Jenn that we might be able to catch some fireworks from our excluded balcony while sipping margaritas (virgin, of course). She told me that if there weren’t any fireworks, I would have to take her somewhere next year where there was. Deal! So after fruitless trips to our balcony, I was convinced that I would need to start planning right away—that is, until I spotted some about 30 miles away. They were beautiful. Granted, you had to stand on a stool, hold on to the side of the rain gutter, and risk falling through the neighbor’s window, but hey, anything for a romantic night. I rushed in, told Jenn there were fireworks outside and we watched with strained necks the last of the explosions. By the way, “that is what a weak finale looks like!”
We had everything that night: Romance, good weather, no traffic, and most of all, fireworks.
I’m sure someday I will grow to understand the importance of fireworks in my life. From now on, though, “fireworks are fun and romantic” (breaking out in cold sweat with gun pointed at my head).
Anyway, enough with the pleasantries, let’s get down to business. Something of controversy has found its way into the hallowed halls of our beloved dwelling. What is it you ask? Is it the recent vacancy in the Supreme Court; is it our porous borders; or is it the situation in Iraq. No, my friends, I’m talking about something big, flashy and short-lived—and no, I’m not talking about Clint’s uber-orange Kriss Kross shorts. I’m talking about the big lights that brighten skies all over the country every 4th of July. Maybe it’s the Grinch in me, but fireworks are as exciting as pulling out all my (overgrown) armpit hairs. Because of some information malfunctions with some friends of ours, we ended up back at home, away from a “fireworks-in-the-park type of celebration. Because of this, I knew there would be no “fireworks” at home unless I rectified the situation. It was a bumpy road.
Husband’s note: Fireworks on the TV and fireworks in person are not the same, nor ever will be as long as I am alive (which may not be very long).
Anyway, while watching a TV celebration, Jenn and I had a conversation on said topic and I’d thought I share some actual quotes and actual observations from my actual wife (who is very beautiful and very understanding).
Fireworks are cool if you’re right underneath them because they’re big and you feel the source of the sound.
Well, first off, if you’re right underneath the fireworks, you somehow got past security. Second, if all you want is big and lot’s of sound, I saw a 52” plasma TV with HD capabilities at Best Buy. I still don’t understand what the big deal is. You just come home from the park with a ring in your ears and a kinked neck, kind of like when you sit on the front row in a movie theater—and no one wants that.
It’s just amazing to see something actually explode
Now, I must say that on the surface, this seems like a valid point. It is the one time when exploding things is legal. I feel I must note, however, that someone else exploding something, and you actually exploding something is very, very different. Of course, blowing up happens frequently here, just ask the Piston’s 4th quarter defense and anyone who eats at Taco Cabana.
Will you take me to Boston next year?
Let me explain this quote by saying that the Boston Pops and Utah’s beloved Keith Lockhart did a special last night on CBS. Like us, I’m sure you were all flipping between the 4th of July special and re-runs of Seinfeld on PAX because those are the only two channels you get… Anyway, with panoramic crowd shots, loads of lighting, and lots of camera flashes, Boston seemed to have a pulse—which is more than I can say for Kevin O’Connor on draft day. One scouting report I read on Deron Williams said he is (paraphrasing) “big for a point guard, not very quick, and an average shooter. Great all-around.” Did I miss something? Where is he great all around? What, just ‘cause he wears 46-inch Dockers. I hope I’m proven wrong. And the second pick, who’s name I forgot, was described as (paraphrasing) “pretty athletic, fundamentally immature, must improve outside shooting. Favorably compared to Deshawn Stevenson.” Jazz Fans: Be very, very scared. (pulling sheets over my head).
And Clint, I know I always said he was my boy and what not. Well…err..uhh…JUST BACK OFF, ALRIGHT!!!
Yet I digress...
The finale makes or breaks the show. With a weak finale... well, the finale makes it worth it. You feel like you’ve wasted your time without a great finale.
Quick, call Guinness, I think my wife just broke the world record using the word finale 4 times in 7 seconds. I think she just likes saying the word. By the way, I was just learned that it is pronounced “finawlee”, not Finale with a short ‘a’—and I’m the one with the Master’s degree, whatever that means. I should petition the expertise of Mom, whose knowledge in the French language is unmatched—(Do you still put that on your resume)? “I mean, it’s a good language, right?”
Anyway, I told Jenn that we might be able to catch some fireworks from our excluded balcony while sipping margaritas (virgin, of course). She told me that if there weren’t any fireworks, I would have to take her somewhere next year where there was. Deal! So after fruitless trips to our balcony, I was convinced that I would need to start planning right away—that is, until I spotted some about 30 miles away. They were beautiful. Granted, you had to stand on a stool, hold on to the side of the rain gutter, and risk falling through the neighbor’s window, but hey, anything for a romantic night. I rushed in, told Jenn there were fireworks outside and we watched with strained necks the last of the explosions. By the way, “that is what a weak finale looks like!”
We had everything that night: Romance, good weather, no traffic, and most of all, fireworks.
I’m sure someday I will grow to understand the importance of fireworks in my life. From now on, though, “fireworks are fun and romantic” (breaking out in cold sweat with gun pointed at my head).
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