Trust me. It's definitely you.

I’m still waiting for the Yankees to call. It’s been several years since I let word get out that I was interested in their General Manager position. Since then, this has gone from interest, to me saying hear and now that I will definitely take the job. That should put an end to all debate about who should be running the show for the most powerful sports franchise in the world, but incredibly, I haven’t received an offer yet. I realize this might be the fault of T-Mobile and my dinosaur of a phone, so I’m willing to give them more time. Just know this Mr. Steinbrenner, I won’t be around forever.

In the meantime, I’ve been exploring other employment opportunities. I can eat tremendous amounts of food, especially if a dare is involved. Sadly the competitive eating market is a difficult one to penetrate. I’m great at naming actors and actresses in movies but this has only led my friends to stop playing games with me related to that area of my brilliance. That goes for Trivial Pursuit as well. What about my ability to watch endless amounts of sports? Again, not so in demand. I guess that rules out my talent for watching TV and movies.

Alas, not all of my talents are wasted. I may have stumbled upon my true calling in life yesterday as I was discussing a difficult situation with a friend. For the sake of anonymity, let’s call my friend “Jan.” Jan and I were discussing a boy that has been pursuing her for years, one that certainly has not received the many hints that have been dropped which clearly have spelled out her lack of interest. The situation crescendoed yesterday as she received a heartfelt facebook message from said boy which I will paraphrase as saying, “I know you don’t seem to be interested but I like you too much to take the hints and I think you are wonderful and please date me.” Imagine that for about three paragraphs and you get the idea.

Those of you that know Jan are fully aware that like most women, she is a coward when it comes to negative honesty. I love her, but its true and she will readily admit it. This has doubtless been a minor cause to the aforementioned boy’s confusion. (However, in her defense, a fully lobotomized Michael Scott could have picked up the hints she was throwing down.)

As we were discussing the events that were transpiring, it hit me like a bolt of lightning. This was familiar territory. It seemed as though everything in my life had led me up to this point. Finally, I had found a way to apply my talents and life experience!

I told her not to worry, that I would take care of it. I quickly crafted the following note, channeling every time I had found myself in a similar situation, but on the opposite end. (A few of my close friends’ experiences may also have found their way in.)

Thank you for the email. I’m glad you told me how you feel. I’ve had fun hanging out with you and I appreciate the time and effort you’ve put into our dates. I’m sorry to say that I just don’t feel the same way that you do. I think you’re a great guy, and I like you as a friend, but apparently not in the same way you like me. I know this isn’t what you wanted to hear, but I hope you appreciate my honesty. If you still want to be friends, that would be great. However, I understand if that is too difficult for you, all things considered. Thank you so much for being so thoughtful. I apologize if I’ve hurt you in any way and I wish you all the best.

I’ve never been so inspired. The words flowed effortlessly as I typed, and I explained to her exactly how it would play out. He would actually be the one that ended up apologizing to her, and she would come across as the good guy, even though she was the one that had his heart in the agonizing head-lock. Most importantly, he would understand that she didn’t want to date. Problem solved. I would feel bad reprinting his follow up message, but let’s just say it was exactly as I predicted. He told her not to feel bad, and that he appreciated her honesty and hoped that they could still be friends.

With these events in mind, I am opening up my services to the public. A relationship you need to end? Call me. My pledge to you is this: not only will the person I am directing my services at get the message you intend to send, but you will come out of the entire situation smelling like a rose. There isn’t an excuse I haven’t heard. My fee? A mere 20 bucks a year to have me on retainer. You can also pay by setting me up on a date, because heaven knows that is just as valuable as 20 bucks. That means you get unlimited coverage for your breakup needs for the low price of 20 dollars! But wait. If you act now, I will also give you detailed analysis of any relationship question, free of charge. Not sure about signals being given? Wondering what he or she meant with a certain text? I will even take care of stalkers, courtesy of my Louisville Slugger baseball bat collection. Just call the toll free number 801-318-6393. (Only actually free if you too are on a T-Mobile plan.) Anytime, day or night, I will be standing by.

This is my new calling. The world will be a better, less confused place and I will be the reason why. Don’t hesitate to call. This is the opportunity you’ve been waiting for.

It’s not you, it’s me? No, it’s definitely you.

Challenge Accepted!

At the behest of one Magicman, I give you my favorite movies from A-Z, with honorable mentions in parentheses. I tried to cap it at about five or six for some letters, as I could have gone on for days with some of them. It was a tough battle to see what letter won the overall competition. B, G, and S all brought some serious ammo to the table, but I would lean towards G. All five movies I listed are homeruns, with GWH, Gladiator, and the Godfather all cracking my top ten. Let me know what you think, or any good ones I forgot. (Anybody have anything better for Y? I struggled there.)

Almost Famous (American Beauty, About a Boy)
Braveheart (Back to the Future I-III, Billy Madison, Blow, Bourne 1-3, Batman Begins and TDK)
Crash (Casino Royale, Cold Mountain, Charlie Bartlett)
Dan in Real Life (Dumb and Dumber, Dances With Wolves)
Enemy at the Gates (Entrapment)
Field of Dreams (Fight Club, Fever Pitch, Friday Night Lights, Forrest Gump)
Good Will Hunting (Gladiator, Gangs of New York, The Green Mile, The Godfather)
Hitch (Happy Gilmore, How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days)
Inside Man (Indiana Jones, The Italian Job, Into the Blue)
Juno (John Tucker Must Die, Jurassic Park)
Kingdom, the (Kingdom of Heaven)
Love Actually (Lucky Number Slevin)
Meet Joe Black (Mean Girls)
Notting Hill (Napoleon Dynamite)
Old School (Ocean’s 11, Office Space, O)
Pianist, the (Pearl Harbor, The Prestige, The Patriot)
Quantum of Solace (pretty sure it will be on here)
Road to Perdition (Rocky 4, Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves, Rudy)
Sandlot (Stranger Than Fiction, Swingers, She’s the Man, Shawshank Redemption, Saving Private Ryan)
Training Day (Tommy Boy, Thirteen Days, 21, 3:10 to Yuma, 300, Troy)
Usual Suspects, the
Vanilla Sky
Wedding Crashers (Win a Date With Tad Hamilton, What Women Want)
X-Men
You’ve got Mail (You Me and Dupree)
Zoolander

A New Frontier

I think that we all yearn to be inspired. I truly believe that somewhere deep within our jaded hearts, there exists a part of each of us that desires to be awakened by one who can lead; by someone who has the makeup to inspire even those who don’t necessarily agree with his particular point of view. I don’t know if Barack Obama is this man. But I think he could be.

I’ve been reading a few books about President Kennedy recently. In 1960, this brash, young senator from Massachusetts earned the Democratic nomination for president despite being a relative newcomer to politics. A congressman by 29 and a senator by 35, this man was embarking down paths generally reserved for older, “wiser”, more experienced politicians. Standing in his way were two predominant obstacles: Catholicism and what appeared to be a stodgy, old, career politician who if not for television’s unfriendly eye, would have been our 35th president instead of our 37th. The fact that Richard Nixon was only four years older than Kennedy mattered little, as they were worlds apart when it came to public perception.

You have to admit that the similarities are striking. Now, in no way do I mean to disparage President Nixon by comparing him to John McCain. Whatever moral ineptitudes Nixon developed late in his presidency, by most accounts he was a talented and good hearted, albeit misguided politician who deserved better than the singular memory he occupies in the eyes of most Americans. McCain is a turd.

Kennedy had many advantages in life. He was born rich and lived with every comfort that could be offered to America’s aristocracy. It cannot be ignored that his father pulled many strings for him, and without his influence, likely never would have pursued a political career. But to limit his success to wealth and connections does a great disservice to the man.

From his inaugural address:

“Let every nation know, whether it wishes us well or ill, that we shall pay any price, bear any burden, meet any hardship, support any friend, oppose any foe to assure the survival and the success of liberty…
So let us begin anew—remembering on both sides that civility is not a sign of weakness, and sincerity is always subject to proof. Let us never negotiate out of fear. But let us never fear to negotiate.
Let both sides explore what problems unite us instead of belaboring those problems which divide us…
All this will not be finished in the first one hundred days. Nor will it be finished in the first one thousand days, nor in the life of this administration, nor even perhaps in our lifetime on this planet. But let us begin…
In the long history of the world, only a few generations have been granted the role of defending freedom in its hour of maximum danger. I do not shrink from this responsibility—I welcome it. I do not believe that any of us would exchange places with any other people or any other generation. The energy, the faith, the devotion which we bring to this endeavor will light our country and all who serve it—and the glow from that fire can truly light the world.
And so, my fellow Americans: ask not what your country can do for you—ask what you can do for your country.”

JFK was by no means perfect, but one thing he mastered was the ability to inspire. It is so sad to me that we so rarely have presidents we believe in. Listening to Obama speak to the country has been an electrifying experience for me. He seems to have that special power that is only given to a few select members of each generation. His words inspire and unite. “This union may never be perfect, but generation after generation has shown that it can always be perfected.” Does anybody think John McCain has the potential to be remembered alongside Lincoln, Kennedy, Churchill and others? Please.

I am very conservative when it comes to politics. I’ve voted republican in both elections that I’ve been old enough to participate in. Senator Obama might in fact be too young and inexperienced. He might be too liberal for my taste. I don’t necessarily want government subsidized health care, although I don’t think it will signal the onslaught of Armageddon like many republicans. I don’t support gay marriage. Then why Obama?

I see in Obama a quality of leadership that we have been severely lacking. It has been far too long since we had someone in the Whitehouse that could inspire. He has made me, a cynic, want to believe. I think that’s half the battle; to break people out of the apathetic rut and get them to want to make their country better. This is where JFK excelled. He spoke of a new frontier, and encouraged Americans by telling them, “We can be better.” I hear that same message today, but it isn’t coming from my Republican side of the ticket. “The change we seek has always required great struggle and great sacrifice. And so this is a battle in our own hearts and minds about what kind of country we want and how hard we're willing to work for it. So let me remind you tonight that change will not be easy. Change will take time. There will be setbacks and false starts and sometimes we'll make mistakes. But as hard as it may seem, we cannot lose hope, because there are people all across this great nation who are counting on us.”

More famously, Senator Obama has exclaimed, “Where we are met with cynicism and doubt and fear and those who tell us that we can't, we will respond with that timeless creed that sums up the spirit of the American people in three simple words -- yes, we can.”

I think he might be right. If nothing else, I want to believe.

The Time Has Come Today

As Election Day draws near, we find ourselves being bombarded with political advertisements. One can hardly pick up a paper, or turn on the TV without seeing evidence of the heated presidential race, not to mention all of the other hotly contested issues ready to hit the ballot in November. These circumstances bring to mind wise counsel from former LDS church president Gordon B. Hinckley.

“Legal restraints against deviant moral behavior are eroding under legislative enactments and court opinions. This is done in the name of freedom of speech, freedom of the press, freedom of choice in so-called personal matters. But the bitter fruit of these so-called freedoms has been enslavement to debauching habits and behavior that leads only to destruction. A prophet, speaking long ago, aptly described the process when he said, “And thus the devil cheateth their souls, and leadeth them away carefully down to hell.” (2 Nephi 28:21)
On the other hand, . . . I am one who believes that the situation is far from hopeless. I am satisfied that there is no need to stand still and let the filth and violence overwhelm us, or to run in despair. The tide, high and menacing as it is, can be turned back if enough of the kind I have mentioned will add their strength to the strength of the few who are now effectively working. I believe the challenge to oppose this evil is one from which members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, and citizens, cannot shrink.” (1975)

For those who might not be aware, there is a Proposition on the ballot of California that is aimed at protecting the definition of marriage as being between a man and a woman. For more information on this critical piece of proposed legislation, visit www.preservingmarriage.org. Supporting Proposition 8 is the specific type of activity that needs to be done in order to fight back this “tide.”

It can be easy to feel overwhelmed by the political process. Many feel that there is no point in caring, because their vote doesn’t mean anything in the grand scheme of things. What difference can one person make?

In a speech given to students at Yale in 1962, President John F. Kennedy shed light on this dangerous train of thought. “The great enemy of truth is very often not the lie—deliberate, contrived, and dishonest—but the myth—persistent, persuasive, and unrealistic.” The hopelessness that often spawns apathy is just that—a myth. We have been persuaded for so long that dreaming of making a difference is childish and naïve. But change is possible. Positive change is not only possible, but it is within reach of everyone with a voice. We all have the power to influence those around us. We all have the ability to make our voice heard. Now more than ever, we can let others know what we stand for and how we feel about the direction our country is headed. “Public sentiment is everything. With public sentiment, nothing can fail; without it, nothing can succeed. Consequently he who molds public sentiment goes deeper than he who enacts statutes or pronounces decisions. He makes statutes and decisions possible or impossible to be executed.” (Abraham Lincoln) We can use every medium that is at our disposal. Blog. Chat. Talk with friends. Write your local paper’s editorial section. Do whatever it is you can to make your voice heard. If nothing else, we can help to shape public sentiment, and by doing so we exert as much or more influence than the lawmakers themselves.

Shakespeare once said, “They do not love, that do not show their love.” I think this also applies to the love of country. Those who wish to show their gratitude for the freedoms we enjoy need to act. Apathy is not an option. Educate yourself. Find out what it is that matters most to you and do something about it. President Hinckley stated, “It is not enough just to be good. You must be good for something. You must contribute good to the world and the world must be a better place for your presence.” Don’t let this opportunity pass you by. Now is when your country needs you. Now is the time to act. I close with the inspiring words of Winston Churchill, who saw Britain through its darkest hours. “To every man there comes that special moment when he is figuratively tapped on the shoulder and offered the chance to do a special thing unique to him and fitted to his talent. What a tragedy if that moment finds him unprepared or unqualified for the work which would be his finest hour.”

Eat your heart out Bon Jovi

There aren’t many times in your life where you get to play the hero. This was one of those few, shining moments. Let’s ignore the fact that this is division two, intramural, coed softball. That’s not what’s important. What’s important is this: with two batters left to go, we are down by three runs. Elimination is at stake. This was is for all the marbles.

Enter Chelsea Mazar. With ice water in her veins, she coolly steps to the plate knowing that for us to win, she cannot make an out. Like a seasoned combat veteran, nothing could faze her. With the team counting on her for its every breath, she heroically lined a single into center, plating two runs and bringing us within one. And so the plot thickens.

With Chelsea on first base, up I walk to the plate knowing that she has to score for us to tie, and my run equals victory. With the left side of the outfield playing just shy of Riverwoods, it would take a laser guided missile to get it over their heads. With right field virtually open, I take my shot. Swinging at a pitch that should have been ignored like a door to door salesman, I lined the ball to right. As soon as I hit it, I knew we had lost. The other team’s right fielder stood poised to catch the liner and end our season. But this is why they play the games. Whether it was the sun, nerves, fate smiling upon us, or the fact that the right fielder just sucked, the ball caromed off the glove and it was as if we had received a last second pardon from the governor.

I raced around first, exhorting Chelsea with all the breath I could muster that she needed to score. As she rounded the bag at third, the ball flew into the infield. It was one of those beautiful moments where you are calculating the distance of the runner from the plate, the fielder from the runner, and determining what is to happen as the play unfolds before your eyes. It appeared to me, the exhausted runner between second and third, that she was going to come up just short.

With the flip of the ball from the cutoff man to the catcher, our season would come up ten feet short. But the throw never came. Instead, the relay man decides that a throw to the female catcher is too risky. He decides that he can run to the plate and tag Chelsea before her foot touches safety. He gambled, and he lost. Both players arrived at the same instant, and in a cloud of dust, I could see the outstretched arms of the umpire signaling that we had just tied the game.

The other team was furious. The fielder thought he had her. His outrage transforms him instantly from softball player to irate defense attorney. As he argued his team’s case, I realized that he had forgotten all about me. If I could sneak in amidst the fracas, we steal a win that should not have been ours. I go for it. Halfway home I’m praying that this guy is too caught up in his argument inches from home plate to see me coming. Thankfully, he realizes what is happening too late, and the look of shock on his face as I slide safely across home is priceless. Winner, winner, chicken dinner.

Against all odds, we’re still alive and well. Just living on a prayer.

Change We Can Believe In

I hate making decisions. Not only do I hate making them, but when I do, I make bad decisions. This is a problem for many reasons, the most important of which being that it seems like there are so many decisions that I need to be making these days: where to live, who to live with, what to do with my life, what to do short term, what to do long term, when to make my move on Janna, where to go to grad school, what to study, etc. Potentially, there is a whole platter of decisions that I can spill all over the proverbial customer’s lap.

I was watching a classic episode of Friends about a week ago and I’ve been thinking about it ever since. In the episode, Rachel tries to counter the fact that she makes terrible decisions by appointing Monica to make all of her decisions for her. This also corresponds with a great episode of Seinfeld. Hapless George has an epiphany where he realizes that every decision he has ever made has been wrong. He takes a different approach to the issue, and decides that all of his instincts are wrong, and that by doing the opposite of what he would normally do, he would effectively neutralize his bad judgment. This promptly lands him a beautiful woman and a front office job with the New York Yankees.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I’m ready to learn from the popular culture I have enjoyed for so long. No longer will I make all my decisions based on the sound advice of Oprah and those chatty women from the view. From here on out, I am taking a page out of the Book of Rachel and the Words of Costanza. Here’s what’s going to happen: I will be fielding open suggestions from anyone who has ideas on how I should proceed with my future. Fear not. No idea is too simple and no suggestion can be too ridiculous. Feel free to give short term as well as long term advice. I am willing to listen to anyone, as long as the idea does not originate in my head.

Now here is the tricky part. I have to decide which advice to take. This is where George comes in. Not only am I trying to avoid ever making another decision, a la Rachel Green, but on those rare occasions where a decision must be left to me, I will have to be ready to do the exact opposite of what would appear to be the correct choice. Difficult? Yes. But I’m committed to change. Just call me Barrack.

I need your help people. Me being in charge of my own life has been an utter disaster. With your help, I can make the progress that will lead me into the next phase of my life. Vote for change in ’08. Vote for my future.

Yes we can. Yes we can.

The Heart of Life

Life is good. I don’t know if I express that enough, but I want to state this emphatically: life is good.

Don’t get me wrong. Life is hard. Sometimes pain throws your hope to the ground. One of my friends just had his heart broken a few weeks ago. At times like that, it’s easy to think that things will never be good again, and that all innocence in life is lost. It was this very same pining and sense of loss that led Paul Simon to pen, “Where have you gone Joe DiMaggio. A nation turns its lonely eyes to you.” He was longing for a time when things were simple and beautiful, and he turned to his father’s baseball icon, a man that had retired 16 years earlier. There have been many times that I’ve found myself yearning for the peace and serenity of the past. It is so easy to live in the past and plot out the perfect way things should have happened. But dealing with pain in the present is the only way to look forward to a bright future.

We all experience pain. Nobody escapes its path. But that is not what brings us together. What brings us together as one is our goal: everyone is just looking for love. Love heals all wounds. Love gives us hope. Love turns the whole thing around. It is impossible to experience love without feeling that there is a purpose to this life. No it won’t all go the way it should, but I know the heart of life is good.

At times, this must be our mantra. If you say it enough, it becomes impossible to forget. Life is good. What about those times when you think you can’t go on? Especially then. Say it. Chant it. Believe it. These are the times when we need to be the strongest, because believe me; bad news never had good timing.

It’s important to have great friends. I can’t imagine going through life without close friends to share it with. It would all be so meaningless. I love my friends. They’ve been with me through the best and worst times of my life, and that is what matters. Great friends foster hope, and help us remember everything that we love about life. Even if everything else is crashing down, the circle of your friends will defend the silver lining. They help us see the good that is there, but possibly hiding at the moment.

I’m terrified of the future. I don’t know what it holds. But life is good, and that keeps me going. After all, fear is a friend who’s misunderstood. It’s a wonderful motivator. I’ve never prepared harder than the times that I was the most afraid to fail. I’ve never worked harder than those moments when I knew there was someone that I couldn’t let down. You just can’t let the fear overcome you. Trust that things will work out, and then work to make sure they do. Believe in people. Don’t be afraid of the unknown.

And know that the heart of life is good.

The Emporers New Clothes

I think a great way to disarm people is by using self deprecating humor. I really enjoy this technique and those who practice it. I’m not exactly sure why this is, but I’ve got a few theories. First, I can’t stand people who take themselves too seriously. It has always rubbed me the wrong way. If the only reason someone thinks you are smart, important, or great in any way is that you tell them, something is wrong. I’ve absolutely loved my time at BYU, but if I had one complaint, it would be the ridiculous desire and need many feel to self promote, especially with the opposite sex. I guess I would call this the Marriott School mentality. Guys know what girls want to hear, and many forgo humility in an attempt to build themselves up into the image that most girls are looking for. You would think that this would be so easy to see through that it wouldn’t work. You would be wrong. And in the world of only having 1-3 dates to convince someone you are worth spending time with, this often means that the self promoting toolsheds of the world are often successful in this regard.

The second reason is that I’ve always thought people couldn’t make fun of you, or talk trash you behind your back as long as you were up front and honest about your shortcomings. Have you ever seen 8 mile? At the end of the movie, Eminem realizes that the other guy he is battle rapping against has a myriad of bullets to use against him in their verbal duel. So what does he do? He cuts him off before he can even get started. He throws all of those things about himself that might be embarrassing out in the open right away, and the other guy gets up and realizes that it would be lame to use any of those things now, so he quits and Eminem is victorious. I think I actually started doing this in middle school. Now, I fully admit that this can be done to unhealthy levels, but when kept in moderation, it is a wonderfully disarming characteristic.

The problem with using this as a defense mechanism, especially in a BYU/Utah culture where self promotion is often the rule, is that people have to be open minded in order make accurate judgments about your character. If someone is expecting Muhammad Ali’s “I am the greatest” speech and gets the “aw, shucks” routine instead, you might think they have a lack of confidence. Think about a job interview. One of the questions that is always asked, is what do you feel are some of your flaws, or some variation of that question. It is widely accepted that this is an excuse for you to pretend like something is a flaw, when it is actually strength. “I really just am too focused on what I am doing sometimes and I can’t stop until it’s done. It’s a problem.” Or, “I just care too much.” These are the BS answers that employers have come to expect. What would happen if you were honest with them? “I am really not a morning person and sometimes it’s just really hard to get up and out of bed.” This is probably true of the general population, but would be absolutely unacceptable to say. Why? Because nobody tells the truth in these situations and being honest about a problem that most share doesn’t just leave you in the middle of the pack, in puts you at the back.

I have a friend who didn’t take a prep course to take the LSAT. This is really the way it should be. The test should be a measurement of how well your mind works at answering the questions provided. Sadly, it has become the norm to pay someone to teach you how to do the test well. This makes it so that in order to be on equal footing with everyone else, you have to pay 800 or 1000 bucks to do well. Luckily, my friend is extremely smart and was able to rock the test on her own. She is the kind of student law schools are looking for. Kaplan and Ace have made it so that top schools end up with the students who do the best on the LSAT, not necessarily who would be the best law school candidate.

I was in a ward soon after I got off my mission where many of the guys would often get up to bear their testimony about how much they loved to serve, and help people. One guy in particular would get up every month and gush about how much he loved people, and how much he loved to serve. He would rattle on for 10 minutes about wanting to help anyone, even if it was in the middle of the night, and how nothing made him happier than doing service for those in the ward. He quickly gained a reputation for being the hard working, service guy. The funny thing is that he did absolutely nothing. He was supposed to have home taught my friends all year, and he never came. When we had ward service projects, he would show up and talk to girls the entire time and accomplish nothing productive. But to my dismay, at the end of the year who do you think people thought of when it came to service?

Perception versus reality. Is perception reality? It saddens me to say that I think it usually is. What irritates me the most is when this is even true among friends. I was devastated recently to learn that someone who I considered one of my best friends was bagging on me and ripping me in a way that I never thought someone close to me would. The ammo was easy to find. It was the stuff that I joke about publicly all the time. You would think that the people that know you best would look past the self deprecation and lack of self promotion. The worst thing about finding that out was it makes me think, if this person that I absolutely trusted would do that, who else would?

But then again, I guess if people think something is true, it must be. Sad day for me.

Insomniac Theater

Have you ever not been able to sleep? It’s awful. There have only been two times in my life that I have been unable to sleep for an extended period of time, and both were asthma related. My latest bout started last week after playing two hours of basketball with my cousins. We had a few good, friendly games and afterwards I started to realize I was having some difficulty breathing. About this same time, my seasonal allergies started to kick in and for the second year in a row, it triggered my asthma. So I guess I’m not sure which one is fully responsible, but I do know that I pretty much don’t sleep anymore.

Don’t get me wrong: I’m trying. I’ve tried propping myself up so that my breathing is less restricted. I made a steam room out of my bathroom in the hopes it would open up my breathing and let me sleep, but the relief is always extremely short lived. I’ve experimented with a several different medicines, the latest of which is a steroidal inhaler that hopefully is not causing eventual kidney failure and the gradual shrinkage of my very favorite area. I’ve taken 3 different inhalers, cough medicine, allergy medicine, cough drops and I’ve even tried some light recreational drugs such as weed and E. Nothing helps. (Let’s be honest for a second: they all help. They just don’t help me sleep!)

So it is now very early on Friday morning, and I have not slept more than two hours in a day since last Friday. How has this impacted my life, you ask? Thanks for asking, and I’d love to tell you. First of all, it has given me about six more hours in my day with which I can catch up on all of the tasks I’ve been putting off during my normally frantic schedule. These include watching reruns of last year’s homerun derby, the first two games of the Major League Baseball season in their entirety despite airing at the unholy hour of 4 am, watching the season premiere of the Hills at least four times, reruns of every episode of Rock of Love II with Brett Micheals, the Gauntlet III (which tragically ended last week, only to gloriously come back into my life this week with a reunion special. This joy was short lived, however, and now I am left only with emptiness, wishing that Evan, Kenny, CT, Jillian, and Frank would so mercifully fill this void that has been created. As of 7 am, March 28, they have yet to respond to my desperate pleas.), America’s Best Dance Crew, and anything that could have possibly happened in the world of sports.

What else have I been able to accomplish? Well, you know how you’ve always wanted to go through the day with a mental fog surrounding your every thought, making rational, well reasoned decisions an impossible task? Definitely checked that one off my list. Did you ever see Half Baked with Dave Chapelle? It’s kind of like that, only without the euphoric side effects.

This has actually been quite the blessing. I wasn’t sure when I was going to find the time to adequately stress about not knowing what I want to do with my life, wonder where I want to live next year, worry about finances and feel lovesick, but miraculously this gives me the necessary time to accomplish these tasks. Thank heavens that I’m able to pack this delightful smorgasbord of thoughts into my otherwise sleep filled mind.

Not that all of this hasn’t been wonderful, but I’ve decided that there is a way I can better use this time. From this point on, I will be selling the time that I would have otherwise been sleeping, from 2 am to 9 am. Seriously. Tell your friends. My services can be used doing homework, cleaning, filming an E true Hollywood story of your life, writing love poetry, taking copious notes on any television programs that you don’t have time to watch, running errands, fixing things, making a mess of your life or the lives of those around you, vicarious exercise, or even sexual favors. All to the highest bidder. So for anyone who feels too busy to accomplish everything they need to get done, I am your man. Just be sure to specify the day and hours you are bidding on and what services you would like performed, and you will be notified via email should you happen to win the bid. I promise this will change your life, so don’t let such a wonderful opportunity pass you by. Only one catch: no checks or credit cards. In the words of the always poignant Randy Moss, it’s gotta be “straight cash homey.”

On second thought, you should probably sleep on it.

Romeo, meet Juliet's husband

What is it that makes a good love story? Ask 50 people this question and you’ll probably get at least that many answers. I think many people would point to the likeability of the characters or even the actors, but not me. I think this can add to or be a deterrent to liking the story, but doesn’t in and of itself make a good love story. I can think of many movies that had entirely likeable characters that were not at all excellent, and vice versa.

One of my favorite movies is the British film Love Actually. In many ways, this is just a feel good movie. Several couples are followed and love is portrayed from many different perspectives: young love, forbidden love, lost love, interracial love and even lust are shown as some of the many forms that love takes. Yet, despite all of these interesting subplots, my favorite storyline might just be one of the saddest; that of a man who is in love with his best friend’s wife. He realizes that this love will never provide the storybook ending he has hoped for, but his love isn’t diminished and he continues to love her despite her permanent unavailability.

To me, the most interesting love story that can ever be told is one of unrequited love. I think too many times we equate happy with good when it comes to movies and books. There is so much beauty to be found in falling short of perfection, and heaven forbid, not having a happy ending. Not only is unrequited love the most interesting, but I also believe it embodies love in its truest form. There are no ulterior motives when it comes to a love that is not returned. Why would anyone subject themselves to that agonizing experience if their love was anything but pure? The guaranteed torment that accompanies such a love authenticates it beyond reproof.

There are two examples of such a love that I’ve been thinking about lately. The first is Severus Snape’s love for Lilly Potter which is revealed in the seventh and final edition of Harry Potter. My heart went out to Harry’s nemesis/reluctant ally. Should he have stopped loving her just because she didn’t pick him? Even if that is the wise thing to do, anyone who has been in a similar situation realizes that option isn’t available. He was devoted to his beloved Lilly even when she married his tormentor, and he continued to love her wholeheartedly when she passed from this life to the next. That, my friends, is true love. Undeterred, constant, and never-ending. Pure and tragically beautiful, this is a great love story.

The second is Eponine’s undying love for Marius in Les Miserables. Victor Hugo writes Eponine’s feelings and emotions with the description and empathy of someone who knows what it means to hurt, and it provides some of the most beautiful interactions of the entire story. In the musical version, her song “On My Own” provides a most heart wrenching look into the human soul, and this in a story already filled with tragedy, loss, and redemption. Eponine’s love for Marius transcends the normal parameters of love and brings it into the realm of the truly exquisite. “Without me, his world will go on turning, a world that’s full of happiness that I have never known.” She even makes that ultimate sacrifice, giving her life not with the promise of eventually being with her love, but in spite of the fact that she realizes it will never happen. True love must be selfless, and this is as selfless as it gets.

Admit it. This is so much more interesting than the classic guy gets girl story that has saturated the entertainment industry. I’m not saying there isn’t a place for that, but it lacks the drama and intrigue that exists when you know the guy/girl will never get what they ultimately want. Instead of a character just muttering sappy lines that are accepted by the love interest faster than I would accept a sleepover invite from Kate Beckinsale, I would like to see a character’s promises of love and devotion put to the test. You say you can’t live without someone? I say prove it. Some people actually have to.

Now that’s must see TV.

lets get creative, folks

So who else is curious about the Emperor's Club? A few days after New York Governor Elliot Spitzer's well publicized prostitution scandal, I can't even feign surprise. Is there anything that actually shocks anymore when it comes to public figures? There is plenty to be disappointed in, sure, but nothing surprises these days. If this sad ordeal teaches us anything, it is probably just how much power corrupts. Some would argue wealth is the more efficacious corrupting agent, but I disagree. I think the problem is that they often go hand in hand. To me, power is the ultimate a--holemaker.

I think it is nearly impossible to go through life with throngs of people telling you how amazing you are and deifying your every move and not feel that you are somehow above the law. (This principle can also be liberally applied to people who have always been attractive, and it is a key factor in most of them failing to develop an adequate personality. If the rules are different for you, and you don't have to work hard in an area of your life, it stands to reason that you won't. And as a sidenote: are we also that surprised when celebrities cheat on, or leave their eyecandy spouses when they start to age? I was reading about Hulk Hogan's divorce the other day, and it got me thinking: what did she expect? She was a model who married him because she was smoking hot and he had lots of money. So if that is the basis of the relationship, why wouldn't it be terminated when she failed to live up to the terms of the agreement? Does anyone think these trophy wives would still be around if the guy went bankrupt? Didn't think so. But back to the issue at hand.) What is the first thing you think when you hear so and so celebrity was arrested for this, or such and such athlete is accused of that? Probably the same as me: we don't send famous people to prison, so they are probably going to get off somehow. OJ Simpson is a free man, for heaven's sake! For every celebrity that serves time, there are probably 20 that should have, but could afford high priced liars, sorry, lawyers to get them off. Little slip of the typing hand there:) So why did Spitzer do it? Because he could. He was probably brazen enough to think that he played by a different set of rules. So was Micheal Vick. And Barry Bonds. And Roger Clemens. And.... ok, you get the idea.

I was actually having a conversation with my roommate the other day about speeding tickets, and I think there is probably something withing the doldrums of our conversation that might help this situation. I was talking about the fines levied for speeding, or other traffic violations here in the US, and how they are completely disproportionate from individual to individual. I received a carpool lane violation of the Bay Bridge in San Francisco a few years back and I ended up paying $450 in fines. For a carpool violation! Bill Gates would have paid the exact same fine if he had been flagged for my offense. In Scandinavia, fines are based on income levels, so the more you make, the more you have to pay. Is this too logical to work in the United States? Isn't the purpose of fines and laws to scare people into behaving as they should? What is the motivation for a celebrity not to break the law? Either jailtime, or losing money. We know for the most part, they won't be going to jail because they can buy their way out of it. So hit them where it hurts: the wallet. (There are actually more painful places to hit them, particularly on a man, but that should never be used as a form of punishment no matter how strong of a deterrent it would be. In the words of Chandler Bing, that is an area that "God only meant to be treated nicely.") I don't know about you, but I don't speed out of respect for the speed limit and the safety of others. Frankly, I don't think it puts anyone in danger if I want to do 90 on the highway. I choose not to speed because I don't want to pay the fine and have it go on my insurance, which would skyrocket. For those that obey all laws out of the goodness of their hearts, God Bless you. Even if you are lying bastards. Again, I digress.

My point? Not sure I have one, but lets give it a shot: we need to to give famous, powerful people a reason to obey the law. In 2002 in Finland, a Nokia executive was forced to pay a fine of $103,000 for driving 47 mph in 31mph zone. Now that's what I'm talking about! This was 14 days salary for this man. If I had been forced to pay 14 days salary for my transgression at the time, it would have worked out to about 200 bucks. Obviously the scale should go up depending on the severity of the offense, but you get the idea. It shouldn't just be the average person who is being penalized for breaking the law.

Bill Gates should be just as afraid as I am to commit a traffic violation, or any other violation for that matter. Hopefully one day he will. But that day will only come when he knows that by breaking the law, he will get dropkicked right in his checkbook's groin, the great equalizer for all men.

My Beautiful Green Eyes

I've never thought of myself as a jealous person. I remember hanging out with my girlfriend about two years ago when she had a few of her friends over who were asking all sorts of questions about this guy she used to date and was still in contact with and it didn't even phase me. Looking back, it should have really bothered me. This was a guy that she had dated seriously and was still very much a part of her life. For some reason, it didn't bother me at all. I was confident in myself I couldn't have cared less about this other guy. I was assured it wasn't an issue, and that was good enough for me. Maybe I was naive. Maybe I was too trusting.

Fast forward two years. I still remember that innocent, trusting person, but only vaguely. I was thinking about this as I watched the super bowl on Sunday. First of all, what an amazing game! How often do we get to see Goliath slain before our very eyes? I sat through the entire season watching the Patriots disregard every classic rule of sportsmanship and essentially roll through the league with both middle fingers raised high all the while hoping that they would be humbled at some point. They were defiant about their rule breaking, ran up the score at every opportunity and broke records that had been set by players I loved and respected. And with less than three minutes left in the game, it looked like their coronation as champs was nearly complete. There is no way they thought they would lose at that point, and that is what makes their defeat so wonderful. But I digress.

I have recently found myself hating everything about the Patriots and their golden boy quarterback, Prince Tom Brady. He makes millions. He dates supermodels. He has won three super bowls and just set about every single season passing record you could imagine. Shouldn't I be happy for him? He's most assuredly worked extremely hard to get where he's at. I should realize that his success and accomplishments embody the American Dream, proving that you can accomplish anything if you are willing to work for it. Why not give the man credit for becoming one of the best quarterbacks in the NFL despite not being pegged for professional success? He deserves it, right?

Wrong. My jealousy, previously non-existent or dormant, will not allow me to cheer for him. I hate him. I wish him harm. I hope that when he gets down on one knee to propose someday, that he will simultaneously be rejected and roundhouse kicked in his GQ mug. Harsh? Maybe. Fair? I think so. I'm sure Mr. Brady experiences hardships, such as his crushing defeat on Sunday, but it doesn't make me dislike him any less.

Don't get me wrong. My green eyes of jealousy do not fall on Tom Brady alone. I'm jealous of everyone that has money. I can't tell you how many cars I have mentally keyed, or how many times I have got in a fight with someone on campus only to realize that it didn't actually happen, but I just played out the events in my mind. I hate Mr. Darcy. That's right. He's a pompous a--hole who finally acts like a normal human being at the end of the movie, but because he's so rich and good looking, girls adore him like he is a saint. Zac Efron and his perfectly groomed swoopbangs deserve a beatdown. I think I even have some pent up hatred of Jonathan Taylor Thomas. Not really sure why on that one, because I think the man is like five foot two. I was giddy inside when Tony Romo and his 67 million dollar contract choked at the end of the season and in the playoffs. Viva la Jessica! Don't even get me started on Jim from The Office. (Interestingly enough, I love Brad Pitt. Maybe there is some latent homosexuality there, but this is neither the time nor the place for that discussion.)

Why all the negativity? Why so much animosity for people I've never met? I'll tell you why. These men are ruining my life. With every touchdown pass, smooth line in a movie, or benevolent onscreen act they make me look like a bigger tool. And it's not just me. If any guys are reading this, which outside of the magicman would be news to me, you are also looking bad. Women don't want a boyfriend or a husband. They want a Victorian millionaire whose lines are scripted. They want the singing basketball star that spends as much time on his hair as they do. They want the office heartthrob with no faults who is endlessly witty, while at the same time appearing vulnerable. They want Prince Tom. The problem is I can never be those things. Nobody can. I am witty, but most of the time I'm just myself. I've never even been to a salon. I don't play a musical instrument, and I have never led any game winning drives in the NFL. I don't have money. I'm just a nice guy who wants a simple life with someone he loves. I want to watch movies together as we cuddle on a weekday night. I want to make dinner together and laugh when things turn out horribly wrong. I want to see the look on her face when she opens the gift I picked out for her birthday. I want her to be excited to see me when I get home after a rough day of work. I want her to feel completely at home in my arms, not caring that I can't afford to take her to Europe or put a rock on her hand as big as a softball. I want her to love me for being me.

Is this possible? Who knows. The me from two years ago still thinks so, and I desperately hope he's right. I guess only time will tell. Until that day, my green eyes will continue to look longingly at everything I want but don't have.

Because unrefrained jealousy is the new American Dream.

Aged to Perfection

My younger brother Eben just turned 19 yesterday. This is a big year in any Mormon boy's life. Not only is it his last as a teenager, but soon he will find out where he will be spending his next two years. My prediction: the Ozarks in Arkansas. This will ensure that he will in fact go through the difficulty of learning a new language but his efforts will not be recognized by the general population as English and Hick actually do have much in common. Regardless, I wish him well and hope that he finds himself somewhere much warmer this time next year.

I also have an older brother that will be turning 30 in a few months which has caused me to think quite a bit lately. What, you ask, is so special about that? People turn 30 everyday. Two things about my brother differentiate him from the general population. First, he is a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. This in and of itself is also unremarkable. After all, there are over 13 million members worldwide. What makes Danny unique is a characteristic that instills fear and trembling in even the most stalwart of church members: he is not married.

Is there anything more terrifying in the life of a member of the church than to be 30 and unmarried? I can assure you wholeheartedly there is not. Among the list of things less frightening are the following:

1. Being held hostage at gunpoint.
2. Suddenly realizing you are completely naked in front of everyone you know.
3. That dream where you realize it is the end of the semester and you have not gone to class or studied at all and your finals are starting now! (Does anyone else have this dream, because it is one of my constants. Just curious.)
4. Discovering that the mysterious man your 18 year old daughter is dating and refers to only as Juice, is in fact O.J. Simpson.

There are actually hundreds of horrific events most mormon young adults would rather subject themselves to than to be staring down the barrel of the big three zero with no ring and no prospects. Death would probably be more welcome. Now, I don't think that the fear of being alone is unique to mormon culture. This is a very human characteristic. What would sitcoms and movies be without the ever present storyline of either a man or woman realizing they are getting older and and the fear that they will never get married? (i.e. Jerry and George in the "Pact" episode of Seinfeld, the entire cast of Friends throughout every season, and nearly every romantic comedy ever made.) But life being over if still single at the age of 30? That is not universal.

What is the big deal?! Why are we so terrified? I'll tell you why. Because mormon dating culture has officially overtaken Hollywood and the Southern California beach scene as the most judgmental, superficial culture in the world. OK, so I may be exaggerating a little. But only slightly. A good friend calls it Provo Seinfeld. You aren't necessarily judged for the things that you do, you are judged for what you appear to do. Perception about a person is often more important that reality. Do you remember the episode where Jerry gets dumped by the supermodel when she catches him picking his nose? The fact that he didn't actually do it was immaterial. It looked to others like he did, and that was enough to end it. This is the problem with age. If you are 30 and single, the perception is that you are either weird or unrighteous. So ridiculous.

It has become far to easy for people to justify their superficiality. We have code words and phrases that allow us all to be as picky we want yet still maintain the ruse that we are not shallow. Don't want to date boy who has a low earning potential? Easy. Just say that you could care less about the money, but it is a matter of ambition. You need a boy who is more driven and has a stronger work ethic. If you want to be a teacher, keep it to yourself until after the engagement. Stick with pre-law or pre-med until a commitment is made. Can't find a polite way to tell others that a girl wasn't cute enough for you? It's really a personalities thing. We just didn't click. You get the idea.

What saddens me about the age thing, besides the fact that it is speeding towards me like a blitzing linebacker, is that it shouldn't matter at all. So what if you are single and 25, or single and 30? Live your life and enjoy it. It only matters because we associate some level of righteousness with how old you are and whether or not you are married. This is absurd. Judge people for who they are. Serving a mission doesn't make you a good person. Serving an honorable one does. Being in the elders quorum presidency doesn't mean your life is in order. Serving faithfully in whatever calling you are asked does. It is wonderful that many people find the person they want to be with quickly, and we should all be happy for these people. I'm not, but I should. As long as we realize that it doesn't say anything about what kind of a person you are. Neither does your age. The sooner we all realize this, the sooner 28 and 29 year olds everywhere can stop cowering in fear. No more dread at the thought of leaving BYU unmarried. Take comfort in the fact that you are a good person and that you will have all of the joys and benefits of marriage someday.

Unless your personality sucks. In that case, you should probably just settle.

A Love for the Ages

I love my car. This hasn't always been the case, but it has definitely grown on me. It isn't exactly the biggest serving of eye candy you will ever get, and it will more than likely break down any day now, or so I've been thinking for several years. I drive a 1989 Mercury Tracer. That's right. It's the real deal. I think once upon a time it was painted red, but even my colorblind self can easily see that continuing to call it red would be a disgrace to colors everywhere. It's probably something close to a nice pink these days and I hope I will have it long enough that it will reveal many more new and exciting colors in the years to come.

I guess a little background info is in order to completely understand the history behind the beautiful machine that is my automobile. I've had it for five years, which means it came to me already in the twilight of its life. My cousin Brent heard I needed a car when I got back home from my mission, and he offered to give it to me for free if I picked it up. The only hiccup was that he lives in Bend, Oregon, which is about 10 hours away from my house. But hey, how often are you offered a free car? So my grandparents, my dad, and I drove up in their pickup truck, which needless to say was one of the worst car rides of my life, only exacerbated by the fact that it was in the middle of a horrible snowstorm. (Hence taking a truck instead of a normal, comfortable car.) We finally arrived in Bend, picked up the car and started the drive back, and miraculously, the roads were crystal clear and the weather had completely changed for the better. I'm thinking to myself that this baby is a good luck charm! Not so fast, tiger.

As soon as we crossed the Oregon/California border, all hell broke loose. It started snowing like crazy, to the point that we could hardly see the road, and we were having some serious problems tractionwise. It would have made sense not to keep driving, but we were trying to get home to celebrate new years, so we forged ahead. Then it happened. A harbinger of things to come for my new car and I. The windshield wiper motor went out. Whose windshield wipers give out?! Seriously!! We're probably about five hours from home at this point, and maybe two or three from getting out of snow range, so we do what any father/son team would do in this situation: keep going. We found some rope in the trunk and constructed a puppeteer like system for clearing the snow off the windows. The rope was tied to the end of each of the wipers and we rolled the windows down so that we could pull the ropes back and forth while driving. Shockingly, it worked quite well. Not to say it was a comfortable ride. Have you ever driven with the window down in a snowstorm? I wouldn't recommend it, unless you are looking to pick up the always popular souvenir I like to call hypothermia. It was awful. To make matters worse, the rope was wearing my hands raw from my Gippetto impersonation. Miraculously, we ended up getting the car home without being killed. We got everything fixed, and I was able to take the car back to school with me.

I should have known things would never be easy for us. A month later I was driving on the overpass that leads to the Provo Towne Centre Mall, on a date mind you, and what do my wondering eyes should appear, but a car, parked in the middle of the road. There was traffic on both sides of me, so all I could do was slam on the brakes, resulting in my rear ending the idiot in the middle of the road. Great date! Needless to say, things didn't work out.

Fast forward a year. A couple buddies of mine and I are headed down to St. George to be in a good friend's wedding. Once again we hit a snowstorm and this time we break down altogether just outside of Beaver, Utah. What else would happen?! Come on! After freezing our aces off for an hour or so waiting for the tow truck to find us in the middle of the night, we are forced to get a hotel room and miss the wedding. Oh, well. Spending a couple hundred bucks on tow truck fees and the finest hotel Beaver had to offer was fun too.

I could go on and on, but I won't. Needless to say, we've had our struggles. I used to think that it would be awesome to have a sweet car to cruise around in and pick up women. Like a great wingman who brings them in, but doesn't swoop in and intercept. Not anymore. My car is so much better than that. It is a true litmus test when it comes to women. Is she shallow? I'll know within one car ride. Materialistic? Please, Big Red won't allow that ish around here. If a girl can be cool with riding in my pocket protector on wheels, she is good enough for me.

I'm not sure how much time we have left together. The glove box fell off. The heating takes about 20 minutes to kick in. The tailpipe rattles like a tambourine. When it's cold, it idles at about 3000 rpm. The front windshield leaks and has a big crack. The trunk rarely closes. Most recently, I think the shocks have given out, and the back left side of the car is riding perilously low as a result. Am I worried? Hardly. I plan on still having this dreamboat of a ride when I get married and actually have to be a grown up in 10 years. Of course, by then I will be 42.

But then, what is life if not growing old with the ones you love?

Feeling the burn

I've never really enjoyed running. It's easy to admire those that do, but I am just not one of them. I hear lots of stories from friends about how wonderful it is during a good run to feel the adrenaline pumping and break through that wall and get runner's high. However, I have yet to experience such a phenomenon. While it is true that I am just plain lazy at times, a better explanation might be that throughout my life, running has equaled punishment, which I think dates back to playing team sports growing up. Mouth off, you run laps. Don't give max effort, run laps. Accidentally wear a purple fleece to school because you think it's blue, well, you get the picture. This has always been my mindset, so I've never actually gained any pleasure from this activity. The closest I've come is when I am done, it is glorious to know I don't have to run again until the next day.

Sadly, this aversion to running transferred to any form of physical activity that wasn't directly related to playing sports, particularly working out at the gym. I've never been able to enjoy that much either. Always seemed like more of a chore than an activity. That is until recently. About eight months ago, my friend Tony Capone convinced me that I needed to get back in shape in order to increase my desirability with the opposite sex. As much as I didn't feel like it, I knew that it was probably necessary. Or maybe I just assume all women are as shallow as I am. Hopefully not, but I decided to plan for the worst.

After two months, nothing much had changed. Aside from the marginal returns I was seeing, I still had yet to find that intrinsic motivation to transform myself into a 21st century Adonis for any reason besides making myself more competitive in the meat market that is Provo dating. Then, something happened. Actually, it wasn't really any one thing in particular. One by one, everything that I had been planning on for so long seemed to change. As I took inventory of my life, I came to realize that I had very little control over anything. Landlords can throw your stuff out for no good reason. Jobs can be lost at anytime. People you love don't have to love you back. In fact, the only aspect of life that I felt in complete control of was going to the gym and working out. Nobody could stop me from doing that. It became the one constant in my daily routine. I would go when I felt great, and I would go when I felt terrible. I would go when I was happy, and I would go when I felt things couldn't get any worse. There is a direct correlation between the effort I put in and the results that come. That is a beautiful thing.

That point of epiphany was about five months ago, and I'm still going strong. Sure there are days when I'd rather be doing something else, but I just have to remind myself that there aren't many things as controllable as this. Be thankful for the ones that are. Now, if only dating were so simple.