The Eternal Adolescent

Life is in the Details

2010-06-01T15:52:00.000-07:00

I've never been the most attentive when it comes to details. So often they seem trivial and I'm more of an "All's well that ends well" kind of guy as it is. I'd like to think that as I've gotten older I've learned to focus more on those details in order to make sure that important things aren't missed and that I can be successful in my endeavors.

From time to time I realize I've still got a ways to go.

I've been studying hard for the LSAT for the last month or so and it is going pretty well. One of the main things that is stressed is the aforementioned attention to detail. Many of the passages on the test hinge on one particular word and it is therefore very important to read carefully and not to miss anything. The reading comprehension section has been particularly difficult and as I've been looking for ways to improve, I'm realizing that I just need to read more carefully. Simple enough.

I was talking to a friend of mine at work today and was asking him if he is nervous about Saturday, as he will also be taking the test with me. "No. Why would I be?" "You know. The test." "Uh, the test is on Monday."

So much for being more attentive. Mere days before taking the biggest test of my life, I realized that I had misread the date and was planning on taking the test on the wrong date. Whoops. I guess its better than realizing it was two days earlier than I planned. On the plus side, it looks like next Monday will be a half day at work!

Is it just me or does this not bode well for me on the test? Lets hope its not a harbinger of things to come. Yikes.

Just Do It

2010-01-31T12:11:00.000-08:00

Some of my loyal readers might remember a post a while back about a love of going to the gym. Without getting into too many details, let me just state that the author of that post is no longer with the company. In his place is a man who has visited Arby's far more over the past year than he has the gym. Various reasons exist for this lack of working out, but to be clear, one of the stronger ones is laziness. Shocking, I know.

It is easy to fall out of a good habit. It usually starts with reasons that are legit, but before you know it, any old reason is good enough to avoid something you don't want to do. Well, I am here to say enough is enough. No more flab, and no more excuses. I weighed myself at the gym yesterday and I tipped the scale at a less than solid 207 pounds. When I was working out consistently, I was usually between 195 and 200 pounds. Is that a goal I hear forming on the horizon? Indeed.

I was talking with some friends a few days ago and I brought up the idea of a biggest loser challenge among the group. I think I only got one taker, but I am accepting the challenge myself regardless of other's motivations and here it is: I will be down to at least 197 when February ends. Very simple, very clear. I will lose 10 pounds in 28 days. This will not be done by altering my diet, which I seem to be incapable of doing. This will literally be done by running the weight off.

Anybody with me to lose weight in February? How about a different health goal during that same time period? I'm in no matter what, but there is plenty of room on this bandwagon. Just let me know and I will follow up with you to see how it's going. This will be a magical month.

Let the games begin.

Smile for the Camera

2010-01-28T17:45:00.000-08:00

There are definitely moments in my life when I realize that I am making a rather smooth and disturbing transition into oldmanhood. Don't get me wrong, I am still just as immature as I ever was. I eat like a 12 year old who was given free reign at the mall food court, have a difficult time going to bed before 1am even though I have to be at work at 730am, and clean my room about 3 times a year. However, as I sit here editing home movies from my video camera, I realize I am no longer a child.

On a recent trip to Bear Lake with friends, I was the one with the video camera forcing others to perform and otherwise just be uncomfortable as I filmed them, all in the name of future posterity. I remember my dad doing the exact same thing as I was growing up, wondering why he wouldn't just put that thing away and let us enjoy our holiday, or vacation or whatever was going on. "You'll appreciate it when you're older," was the token reply when pleas were made to shut the camera off. I remember very similar conversations taking place at Bear Lake as I continued to film our hanging out to the chagrin of all present. (Video will be uploaded as soon as I figure out how to edit them. Look forward to a very exciting fall on the ice caught wonderfully on film.)

The next step is very clear. I will soon be purchasing khaki shorts and basketball tube socks to be worn with sneakers and a tucked in tshirt. This will become my vacation uniform, in honor of dads all across America. In doing so I will be blazing a trail for all males making that inevitable transition, but doing so single in an arena so often reserved for married men.

I've always considered myself a pioneer. Now, we are all witnesses.

Public Service Announcement: Please Hire This Man!

2010-01-10T17:59:00.000-08:00

I consider myself a generous person. In fact, it’s one of my greatest attributes, along with my luscious tan. This is why I have decided to adopt the charity case of one Jefferson Dickamore. (If you are a potential employer, please immediately skip to second to last paragraph.) Jeff is currently unemployed. He is an aspiring actor and is looking for his big break. But to be quite blunt, his life could not be any more of a struggle. Just listen to what some of his friends have recently said about him when asked what they thought of Jeff:

“Jeff? Wow. Where to begin. I knew he was destined to be a drain on society from the day I met him. I’m actually surprised it’s taken him this long to join the ranks of the unemployed. Didn’t he just get out of rehab?”- Cindy Ford

“I actually talked the people at Teach for America into giving him a pity acceptance, and he turned it down. What a loser! I can tell you this much: there is one less classroom in America with a scraggly, below par teacher destroying young minds thanks to that declined invitation.”- Deanna Roark

“Jeff has been hitting on me for years and it’s kind of pathetic. I just wish he would leave me alone.”- Jill Crane

“I was Jeff’s TA as an undergrad and I could not have been more disappointed. He really brought underachieving to an entirely new level. True, he did get the highest score in the class, but by one measly percent? Give me a break.”- Professor Darren Hinton

“I can’t even tell you how disappointed I am in him.”- President Barack Obama

“I took Jeff on a charity date a few years ago, but it was only on a dare. I just felt sorry for him.”- Janna Siler

“Jeff Dickamore? I’d hit that.”- Rachel Quada
-----Editors note. Not sure Rachel really understood the question.

As you can see, Jeff needs all the help he can get. So lets all make a deal to get his name out there. Start talking him up around the water cooler. My loyal flock of readers has the juice to get this man a job, and maybe even a date. Scratch that. We need to be realistic. Let’s just focus on the job. Below is his resume:

Jeff is awesome. Please give him a job. He is polite, hard working, and rarely ever flies into fits of rage. He is an excellent dancer, particularly if it involves his favorite artist, Lady Gaga. Need to impress potential clients? Look no further. Jeff is more than willing to bust out his award winning parlor tricks for the amusement of others. These talents include yodeling, three card monte and the best air guitar you’ve ever seen. Jeff is also great with kids. He has this candy they love, I think its called Ambien, and they are always so well behaved. Who knew kids could sleep so much? It is true that Jeff doesn’t have a lot of special skills, but he is more than willing to make up for it with tenacious energy and a can do attitude. Take a chance on him and you will not be disappointed. I would recommend quickly taking action, because this gem won’t be on the market for long.

Hopefully. (Fingers crossed.)

Wasting a shot at perfection

2009-12-28T09:41:00.000-08:00

I can't even describe how disappointed I am that the Indianapolis Colts completely wasted the opportunity to complete an undefeated season and enter the record books as the only team to do so in the era of the 16 game season. With Peyton Manning and the starters in the game, the Colts took a 15-10 lead midway through the third quarter in yesterday's game. At that point, head coach Jim Caldwell determined that playing his starters, including the best quarterback in football 20 more minutes was just too risky. So he pulled the starters and the team proceeded to give up 19 unanswered points. The offense was so anemic that it actually cost the Colts points rather than earning them.

I have two main problems with this philosophy. The first is that I feel that the organization owed it to the fans to try for immortality. A perfect season would separate this team from all others that have won the Superbowl. The 1972 dolphins are the only team to win the Superbowl without a loss at any point in the season, and that was when the regular season was only 14 games. I respected the Patriots and Giants immensely two years ago when both teams played their starters the entire game in an otherwise meaningless season finale. It clearly didn't hurt either team, as both met for the Superbowl title 4 weeks later. There are so few times in sports when you have a chance to do something historic, and those opportunities need to be seized.

To me, this is like a pitcher intentionally walking a batter in the 9th inning of a perfect game because he doesn't want to surrender a hit. 250 or so no hitters have been thrown in the history of baseball; there have only been 18 perfect games. If you give up a hit in that situation, you tip your cap and hold you head high knowing that you have done your best and got beat.

Now, I understand the Colts didn't want their star players to get hurt, but if that's the case why did they play them at all? Shouldn't they have benched the starters last week when home field advantage was wrapped up? I don't understand their logic.

The second problem I have is that all along, the colts have presented their decision to rest starters as being based on the following false dichotomy: If they go for an undefeated season, the players would get worn down and they would lose in the playoffs and if they rested their starters during the season's remaining games, they would win the Superbowl. Does this sound ridiculous to anyone else? They already were getting a first round bye in the playoffs. That sounds a lot like rest to me. They are just as likely to lose in the playoffs now as they would have been if they played hard to the end.

Shame on them. I have adopted the Colts a step-team of sorts over the past decade since my team, the 49ers, hasn't been relevant. Despite this, I hope they lose in the playoffs. Sports karma is a powerful thing and I hope it comes back to bite them. You can't absolutely spit in the face of history, not to mention your fan base that wanted perfection, and have no repercussions.

I hope they get what's coming to them.

Even?

2009-12-28T09:06:00.000-08:00

Well, as my dear Cynthia just reminded me, I did not post a blog before midnight this past week. I apologize for this, and ask her forgiveness. When Cindy left for Korea, I made her a deal that I would post a blog every week until she comes home next September. Failure to do so would result in me visiting her in Korea. The mistake was not realizing that since I'm home for Christmas break, I needed to post before Sunday, which is the day I usually do my posts.

Yesterday was a great but hectic day. My new niece was blessed in church as well as my dad, sister and brother teaching lessons in different wards, which we all attended. We all then were dinner guests at my brother's in laws and then my grandparents came over to visit and discuss, among other things, their burial plans. Yeah, kind of strange, but it actually turned out to be a very healthy conversation of life, death, and exactly how we remember those we love that have passed away. We had a wonderful visit, and they left our house at midnight. Family 1, blog 0.

Cindy, I propose the following: In the spirit of the Christmas season, I think you should forgive me this one time and give me a 10 hour reprieve for just this week. If it helps, you can consider us even for the two times you've blown me off for our skype and video chat dates. This also means that two blogs will be coming this week. I think this is an acceptable solution and I hope she agrees. Heaven knows I don't want to visit that horrible country, even if she is here. I think it would be much more fun to take a trip together to DC or New York when she gets back. I love you, Cindy, and hope you see fit to dispense mercy upon me in my time of need.

Call it even and go from here?

My Christmas Wish List: Friends and Celebrity Edition

2009-12-20T22:50:00.000-08:00

After much thought about what I wanted for Christmas this year, I decided the deepest desire of my heart was to be a part of the season of giving. With that in mind, I bring you the things I would like Santa to bring my friends. (And a few notable famous people as well, just for good measure.)

Cindy Ford- A one-way plane ticket to Utah, so that she can leave the God forsaken country of Korea behind forever. Also the ability to follow through with appointments to chat.

Janna Siler- Nate Archibald in an Armani suit. Now I’m not even gay, but one or two drinks and I might even consider….. Wait, did I really just type that? Moving on.

Aaron Makdo- Great leaping ability, so that he can continue to jump on every bandwagon that comes along in professional sports.

Tiger Woods- A great retroactive prenup. Turns out if Tiger would have just kept the driver in the bag, he would have won more that just a few more majors.

Katie Duncan- An everpresent song lyric teleprompter. Also a giant bong so that she would be irresistable to Michael Phelps.

Kevin Tame- A title for one of his Seattle sports teams. At the very least, Seattle has been passed by Washington DC as the most pathetic sports town in America. That counts for something, right? And while we’re at it, may Howard Shultz, the CEO of Starbucks that sold the Sonics knowing they would be moved to Oklahoma City, fall from a 30 story building onto a bicycle with no seat.

Deanna Roark- To have access to a time warp machine that will let the next year and a half pass by in the blink of an eye, so she can be released from her Teach for America indentured servitude.TFA ruins lives. I also wish she had a plane ticket to Utah.

Jill Crane- The desire to practice law. If that doesn’t work, a rich husband that would make it so she doesn’t have to. And more bowling trophies and intramural championship t-shirts.

Aaron Rodgers and Randy Moss- A vicious beating followed by terrorists forcing them to watch the WNBA on loop for an entire year. You thought I was over the Fantasy Football collapse from last week? Not so much.

Rachel Quada- An endless supply of annoying EFY friends to take up her time and keep her from her much cooler friends. Wait a second. She already has that? Oh. Lets just go with Chuck Bass and an endless supply of diet coke in his G5.

Megan Shirk- Dozens of babies without having to put up with the grossness that is living with a man. Also, a competitive, sports loving guy with endless amounts of witty banter to be bffs with in nyc.

Tony John- Sleep in the upcoming year. Good luck.

Rachel Bodily- More clout at Georgetown, so she can get me into their law school. And a copy of Love Actually.

Tony Capone- An easy final semester of law school followed by a passing score on the bar exam. I also wish him the ability to cope with another Mets collapse in the upcoming season.

Barack Obama- The foresight never to visit Provo, Utah.

Dustin Currie- A vampire bite, so he won’t actually have to turn 30 next year.

Bethanie and Randon Tagg- A baby for Beth so she can quit her job. For Randon, a big screen TV so he can avoid the baby and stay caught up on sports.

Ben Jones- Fashion sense, lipo, and a new car. I’m just kidding. Ben already has a nice car.

Shannon Mehner- A new, red Ralph Lauren puffy coat so she can give me back the one she’s been borrowing for two years. And season tickets to the Cubs.

Collin Cummings- A continuous stream of creative ideas and infinite investment capital to get them going.

Jessica Alba- Me

Blake Griffin (not the famous one)- A tard free job, and a lifetime membership to blockbuster.

Lauren and Aaron Purcell- The desire to have their friends over for dinner more often and an immunity to the freezing bay area weather that they will shortly be faced with.

Logan Holman- Better looking girls in your singles ward. Can’t even make any jokes about that one. I’m praying for you.

Lauren Anderson- An endless supply of trails to bike, races to run, and mountains to climb.

Mark Skinner- That girl’s number from Red Robin a few weeks ago. Wait, maybe I just want that for myself. She was hot. I hope Mark finds a girl almost as hot.

Valerie Funk- A job in SLC and enough free time to listen to three volumes worth of scary stories.

Todd Richardson- A divorce from the horrible wench that is TFA. I’ll be a character witness if you need one in the settlement hearings.

Amy Sue Wilson- A buyer for her winter contract and feet that don’t even get remotely cold.

That's my list. If I missed anyone, better luck next year. Travel safe, and Merry Christmas!

Happy Effing Holidays

2009-12-13T21:42:00.000-08:00

Not going to lie to you kids. This was not a great weekend. On Friday I found out that the shoulder surgery I had planned for my right shoulder this coming week might not be as simple as previously thought, and therefore might need to be moved back again. Yesterday, my car, after careful consideration of what to get me for Christmas finally decided on a good old fashioned kick in the balls. Merry Christmas, you get a new water pump and timing belt, all for low, low cost of 350 bucks. Son of a b. This has also left me walking around in the Provo slush for the past two days, leading to me stepping in a giant hidden puddle that went halfway up my leg as well as nearly slipping and falling roughly 7,218 times on my way to and from church today.

While trying to fix my car in the snow and slush, I received a call from my Elder’s Quorum President. He forgot to tell me but it was my week to teach Elder’s Quorum. Just go ahead and prepare a 45 minute lesson of your choice since we finished the book early. That’s no problem right? Oh, of course not, Toolshed. After all, it’s only 3pm on a Saturday afternoon in which I have plans for the rest of the day. Its not like church is at 9:25am or anything. Would you like anything else? A warm cooked meal perhaps? Maybe a foot rub? You just let me know.

All of this was only leading up to the real disaster. Anyone who knows me knows that I have a mild interest in sports, and occasionally like to be involved in the fantasy variety. It is currently the first round of the football playoffs. Our league does two weeks for each round of the playoffs, and this is the second week of the first round. My team is awesome. We have averaged 112 points per week for the past 8 weeks. The next closest team over that span averages 10 points a week less. Again, my team is awesome. To my utter dismay, someone must have alerted the members of my team and told them this was the weekend to get as many shots in on me as possible, because they capped the weekend off quite nicely. I figured even if they put up a bad week, I would be fine because I had built up a 23 point lead after the first week of playoffs, and my season low was set in the first week of the season at 82. Of course, my team puts up the ultimate stinkbomb, a season low 69 points and loses by 2. I will now proceed to smash my head into my desk repeatedly.

Maybe there is a lesson to be learned here. Maybe the cosmos is reaching out to me and trying to get my attention. Is there something I need to take away from this disastrous weekend from hell? Give me a second…… I think I’m picking up on something……. What is it? "F you, Darren. F. You. Darren." Thanks for that one, Universe. Merry Christmas to you too.

If anyone needs me, I will be broiling my head in the oven.

Winter Must Die

2009-12-06T21:41:00.000-08:00

Well, the snow is finally here. Despite the fact that I live in Utah there is a part of me that always hopes winter will not come. Every year I think this might be the year that it just stays warm all year round, and every year like a punch to the gut it comes like a Napoleonic invasion.

I hate winter. Not sure if I’m in the minority on this one, but I do. Being cold is one of my least favorite feelings in the world, right up there with seeing Max Hall dropping back in the pocket against a ranked team. It’s weird because I have actually lived in cold weather climates for the past 10 years so you’d think I would get used to it but instead every winter seems colder than the last.

Winter also sucks because it doesn’t allow me to do any of the fun outdoor things I like to do, such as golf, baseball, laying by the pool and porching. True, Christmas is great and I do enjoy the occasional snowboarding, but it hurts my knees and is too expensive and cold to do on a regular basis. Not to mention the fact that my car would revolt if told it had to drive me up the mountain once a week. Not happening.

I think my hatred of winter is one of the reasons why I love baseball so much. When the baseball season starts, spring is finally emerging from its slumber and it literally feels like anything is possible. Each new baseball season brings the promise of a new beginning with spring vanquishing the horrible, gray, soul killing winter. Plus, there are games everyday, and I can testify that there is little in our lives that is in fact so dependable.

Even as the season is winding down, summer has just turned into fall, comfortably cooling things off and giving us one more taste of happiness before the deatheater’s kiss of winter arrives back in our lives. As a result of baseball being so closely tied with the seasons, I have been conditioned to know that if baseball is not being played, I am more than likely cold and miserable.

Now, I’m not a scientist, but I really think there is loads of promise to this whole global warming thing. If I understand the inventor of the internet correctly, we can actually influence the temperature by being careless with the way we pollute the atmosphere. Sounds like a plan! If we have been successful in doing this up until now, we need to keep going. Now is not the time to quit. The endless summer is well within our grasp. Will it screw things up for future generations? Not our problem. Besides, who wants to leave our posterity with the same freezing planet we now inhabit? Didn’t think so. Can we all commit to do our part? I sincerely hope so, because every little bit counts.

Let the games begin.

A Season of Thanks

2009-11-29T21:46:00.000-08:00

Things that I am currently grateful for:

Thanksgiving. With no disrespect to Independence Day, I believe it is Thanksgiving that makes me proudest to be an American. An entire day devoted to eating, eating some more, and then capped off by more eating. All this is sandwiched around watching football and lounging around. Amazing. (Imagine God Bless America playing in the background while reading that last paragraph as a solitary tear rolls down my cheek.)

BYU beating Utah. Thank goodness. As Utah roared back from a 16 point deficit, I was orchestrating what would have been Tanya Hardingesque attack on Max Hall following the game. Luckily for all parties, Max did in fact make one good throw in the game, a perfect strike to a double covered Andrew George who sprinted into the end zone and saved Max from another epic choke and a potentially savage beating from my hired assailants. The important thing to remember is that Utah has once again been put in their place. Hall actually gets extra brownie points for his vicious thrashing of all things U of U after the game. Love me some trash talk. Suck it Utes!!

Technology. After watching movies and football for the past 4 days on my brother's 55 inch plasma TV, I can't help but admire the brave men and women who make such things possible. Thank you, Sony. Hopefully soon, I will be able to welcome one of your oversized models into my own apartment. Also, despite Cindy's constant belittling of my phone, it will now be allowing my to call her for free in Korea thanks to the free Skype app that was downloaded by me today. My phone accepts your apology, Cindy.

Mark Skinner. Welcome back into our lives, friend. True, it is only until Tuesday, but hopefully I can sell him on the idea of moving back to Utah until he starts getting paid handsomely for his mathematical nerdhood next year. From my lips to God's ears.

My Plea to Max Hall

2009-11-22T22:42:00.000-08:00

Max Hall is the winningest quarterback in BYU history. So what. That is what I have to say about that. Never has a player had such great numbers yet inspired less confidence in his fans. When the public address announcer gave the congratulations over the loudspeaker after the game yesterday in which he set the record, there were actually quite a few boos, none of which came from me oddly enough. I didn’t need to. I think people finally understand who he is.

Hall is the kid you loved having on your team during practice or maybe even a scrimmage game, but when the pressure was on, you wouldn’t have chosen him until it was absolutely necessary. He can hit the open jumper, paint both sides of the plate, or haul in the long touchdown pass, but only if the game is already won, or doesn’t mean anything to begin with.

We have now seen Max for almost 3 full seasons. That is plenty enough to know that when we play Air Force, he will look like Joe Montana. Same goes for UNLV, New Mexico, Underbudget University, or any other number of mediocre to crappy teams. However, when he sees Utah, TCU, or any ranked or semi decent opponent coming through the tunnel, he folds faster than a 9 year old Asian working in a Nike sweatshop. His one redeeming moment, the final drive against Oklahoma, is the only notable exception. History has shown that to be the anomaly, the one outlier in a career all pointing to the same fact: Max Hall sucks in big games.

Would I take Hall over any of the other BYU greats? Not McMahon, Young, Bosco, Detmer, or Beck. I’d even rather have John Walsh or Brandon Doman.

Prove me wrong, Max. Beat Utah this week and look good doing it. You will have your home crowd behind you. You get to face a Utah team weakened by the draft and graduation. You are a senior, and should know everything they will throw at you. There is no excuse for you to fail. And make no mistake about it: We lost last year’s game because Max Hall failed. He was the difference in the game. Despite Utah’s undefeated record, we were fairly equal last year except for at quarterback. Brian Johnson was good, and Max Hall crapped the bed. Plain and simple.

Prove me wrong, Max. Show me that 3 years of statistics are wrong. Show me that you deserve the record you now hold. Give me a reason not to leave a flaming bag of crap on your doorstep following the final regular season game of your career. I am more than willing to let your mediocre career slide if you can do what you have been unable to do since you arrived in Provo. Just play well in a big game, Max. Just one. You can even revert back to your normal form in the bowl game. Just play well against Utah.

Because if you think I’m joking about the bag of crap, just try me.

the sound of one hand clapping

2009-11-15T22:27:00.000-08:00

It’s always nice to know that your efforts are appreciated. I think we all realize this, but this point was driven home for me as I sat through Elder’s Quorum today. A little background is necessary.

I was called as an Elder’s Quorum instructor a few weeks ago and my first assignment was to teach on the martyrdom of the Prophet Joseph Smith. This is the last lesson in the manual and I thought it was a little early to be teaching this lesson, as there were about 8 more Sundays at the time. (I was of course correct, but the EQP was adamant that it was the correct lesson so I went ahead with it.) Nevertheless, I prepared what I thought was a well thought out and thought provoking lesson.

In the end, I thought the lesson went very well. It was well researched and had interesting outside information and plenty of personal experience. The class participation was excellent and I was pleased with the outcome. So imagine my surprise when the next lesson taught in that very Elder’s Quorum was the exact same lesson I had just given two weeks earlier. Not a ringing endorsement that I covered the information adequately. To make matters worse, there was no mention in class that we had already had the lesson, and several people in the class made comments about how they had never known certain things about the events leading up to the prophets death, despite the fact that they had also made comments in my class when we covered those specific things.

Like I said; not a ringing endorsement for my teaching skills. One positive that comes out of the situation is that I’m not going to stress too much over my next lesson, knowing that it is just part one of a two part lecture covering the exact same material. Takes a lot of pressure off, actually. I can now devote all the extra time and energy that I would have spent preparing lessons to getting mentally prepared for the upcoming bowling playoffs, which start Wednesday night. My whole life has been in preparation for this one penultimate moment. It’s time to separate the men from the boys. (Or the strong from the weak, in Jill’s case.)

May the best team win. Let’s get it on.

Random thoughts

2009-11-08T20:39:00.000-08:00

So my computer crashed yesterday as I was compiling the much anticipated, aforementioned list. This saddens me deeply, as that post will have to wait. I could just post the list without pictures, but where's the fun in that? While this has disrupted the post I was anticipating, it hasn't defeated me. I will still come through, albeit with a slightly shorter and possibly more disjointed post than I otherwise would have made. It also might be exactly what you've come to expect.

First a word of warning. Halle Berry is a beautiful woman. There is no denying this. She has also been in several movies that would qualify her for my list, such as Swordfish, Die Another Day, and X-Men, among others. However, before perfoming a google image search of Ms. Berry, be sure that your search engine's modesty settings are set to high. I was not the only one to appreciate the lovely Halle and apparently many others appreciated her most in the topless scene that was edited out of my copy of Swordfish. You have been warned.

Speaking of inappropriateness, I had a hard time concentrating in one of my church meetings today. You could maybe say it was the fact that I had just consumed a delicious meal, thanks to AP and LIP, and you would also be right in assuming I was concerned about the close fantasy football matchup I was embroiled in. (Thanks for nothing DeSean Jackson.) Shockingly enough, these two facts had little to do with the problem of focus I was having. The culprit was a young man in front of me who seemed to have a crush on the guy sitting next to him.

Now I know I have been quick to accuse people of homosexual activity from time to time, but I think this was justified. (I also feel that wearing skinny jeans leaves any man open to questions of sexuality, but that is an argument for another time and place.) The young man in question continued throughout the meeting to lovingly and tenderly rub the back of the guy he was sitting beside. He busted out the full back scratch arsenal, including the figure 8, the one hand massage and even a little of the side rub/tickle. As this was happening right in front of me, it was difficult to focus on the speaker's topic. (Pretty sure it was something about guys not being inappropriate with other guys, but I can't be sure.)

If there was any question about the young man's feelings, they seemed to have been answered when he breathily began singing the rest hymn in his friend's ear and gave him longing looks from time to time throughout the rest of the meeting. Lets just say that I'm pretty sure this kid wasn't quite as interested as I was concerning what was happening in the Eagles-Cowboys game. I think I did see him following the men's doubles figure skating finals on his phone, though.

Finally I would like to thank everyone for the birthday shoutouts. They were much appreciated. I would particularly like to thank Cindy for a thoughtful card poking fun at my age, and to Bethanie for treating me to a delicious meal of all you can eat wings at Wingers. Highest thanks, however, are reserved for Janna and Jill, who procured three collectors items of highest literary importance for me that I can't wait to enjoy on our next roadtrip. The first of this well crafted series was discovered while at Bethanie's wedding in Atlanta two summers ago. Lets just say that if you think you've heard the scariest stories ever told, you most definitely have not. Not until you've read my new collection. Val, we need to find some way to get you in on some of these. I can only hope that all who participate are in good health with no history of heart problems. They are that good.

Upset of the Century

2009-11-01T22:31:00.000-08:00

In a very stunning upset, Sophie Marceau in "Braveheart" has been crowned as most beautiful female movie character, according to me. This was highly unexpected, as Kate Beckinsale in "Click" has been leading the category since its inception. However, upon further review, the judges have ruled that Sophie is indeed the winner. Congratulations to both, as it is an honor just to be nominated.

The beautiful Kate

Sophie in Braveheart. Wonderful movie. Better female lead.

I will soon be unveiling the top ten beautiful women in movies of all time. Stay tuned. I'm sure all my female readers are riveted.

You Snooze, You Lose

2009-10-25T22:43:00.000-07:00

Oh, sleep. Why are you so enticing?

I feel like there are very few things I wouldn’t give up for sleep. I once almost talked myself into sleeping through a final. I have absolutely slept through more classes than I can count, and while in Paris two summers ago, I slept 14 straight hours at one point after an all-nighter.

I know people loosely throw around the phrase, “my biggest weakness,” or my “Achilles heal,” so I will not do that here. My top ten is pretty competitive, and I don’t want to slight any of the other things that I am lousy at. Suffice it to say that the desire to sleep in is a very real personal struggle.

Sadly for me, it seems that learning to master the body’s desire to sleep is a common trait of most successful people. This does not bode well for me. The problem is that all rationale goes out the window when I am trying to wake up and my body is telling me that nothing in the world matters more than getting a few more minutes of sleep. Once I am up, it isn’t really an issue, and I can generally run somewhat effectively on small amounts of sleep, but getting up has always been, and will continue to be a struggle.

I am currently testing out a revolutionary strategy of going to bed early so that I am not quite as tired in the morning. Crazy, I know. The results have not been encouraging thus far. My body seems to intuitively know that I have more time to sleep, so it demands more sleep. I have felt just as tired getting 7-8 hours of sleep over the past 3 nights as I do when I get my typical 5-6 hours of sleep. That really doesn’t seem fair, and if it continues I will revert back to my old ways and just enjoy the extra hours in the day. Groggily.

Currently, I am reading a fascinating biography about Charles Lindbergh, the first man to make a continuous flight across the Atlantic, accomplishing the feat solo from New York to Paris. The flight itself took 33 and ½ hours during which he was forced at times to fly so close to the water that the whitecaps sprayed him with freezing water so that he could stay awake. (He asked that several panels to his cockpit stay removed during takeoff for this very purpose.) Keep in mind with all the chaos and publicity surrounding his departure, he had essentially pulled an all-nighter before he embarked on his flight.

By the time he was finally able to sleep after his heroic landing in Paris, it had been more than 63 hours since he had slept, most of those hours with the enormous pressure of knowing that the slightest mistake would kill him. He wrote the following in his journal during the flight: “My back is stiff; my shoulders ache; my face burns; my eyes smart. It seems impossible to go on longer. All I want in life is to throw myself down flat, stretch out — and sleep.”

It is amazing to me that he was able to remain awake and alert in order to accomplish that Herculean feat. I can’t even comprehend that level of discipline and focus. Great men seem to have that extra gear they can turn to when an ordinary effort would fall short. It is incredibly inspiring. Maybe the most impressive fact is that after sleeping for 4 hours and 45 minutes, he awoke at 9am to begin his day the next morning. I’m going to try and remember this the next time my body is begging for more sleep and tempting me to discard whatever important thing it is that I need to be waking up for.

I can only pray that my body and subconscious don’t adapt and begin to conjure even more enticing lies to keep me sleeping. That would really suck.

Isn't it about Time?

2009-10-18T22:51:00.000-07:00

What do Charles Lindbergh, William Wallace and pre-Victorian aristocratic women have in common? Absolutely nothing, apart from the fact that they have dominated my life over the past few days. Let me explain.

I took an incomplete in my History on Film class, which I took my last semester of BYU. I more or less forgot about this class and only recently did I realize that I need to get it taken care of so that I don’t have to explain to law schools why I have an uncompleted class on my transcript. So this week I emailed my professor to see if it was still possible to finish the class, fully expecting him to say no, which I deserved for blowing the class off in the first place. Much to my delight, he said he would be more than willing to let me complete the class, but I would need to take care of the paperwork to get an extension on the previously agreed upon completion date. Well, friends, turns out there is a maximum time period of a year and a half from the time the incomplete is started to when it must be finished, including the extension. Yikes. This meant that I would need everything turned into the records office by 5pm next Friday.

The tricky part about all of this is that in addition to working full time, I have been taking an LSAT prep class 3 days a week, and trying to also put in 2-3 hours on the days I don’t have class. Now I would need to find time for 12 hours of films I needed to watch, about 20 hours of reading, and 30 pages of papers that would need to be turned in. This doesn’t even include the fact that locating a required BBC miniseries from 1999 and the corresponding book that were nearly impossible to find took almost a day by themselves. Still, despite this being a lot of work it seemed very doable. It was at about this time that my professor informed me that in addition to needing all of the assignments a day early to grade them, he was going out of town so I would need to submit everything to him no later than Wednesday afternoon. Son of a B.

Needless to say, I’ve been very busy since I learned of these developments on Wednesday. Pretty much every waking hour that hasn’t been devoted to work and eating has been spent trying to finish up this class by the deadline. I think I’m going to make it, but in reality it’s too soon to tell. I’ll know by Wednesday. I have, however, relearned a very important fact about myself: I hate being super busy.

I will never understand people who always need to keep themselves busy with work, projects, appointments and other such things because they would otherwise get “restless,” or “bored.” Give me an open schedule and the freedom to relax, watch TV and eat junk and I am a happy man. Maybe this is true about everyone, and I’m sure on some level it is. However, it seems taboo to openly express how lazy my inner self is. Whatever. It’s the truth.

The funny thing is on some level I think this inherent laziness makes me work harder when I actually have to work. There is no sense dragging out an assignment by halfheartedly working on it when you could just sink your teeth fully into the job at hand and give yourself more time to loaf. My friend Deanna and I used to talk about this a lot when we were studying at Cambridge a few years back. We discovered that if our classmates devoted half as much time to doing their homework as they did whining about how much they had to do, they wouldn’t even be that busy. Either do the work or don’t. Quit wasting time telling everyone how much you have to do when you could be using that time to get it done. Sadly I think I took this to the extreme while we were there and neither whined about my workload or completed it. Whoops.

It will be interesting to see if I get it all done. I hope so. In addition to wanting the incomplete off my transcript, I’ve had to turn down watching the baseball playoffs, college football, and even playing a round of golf because the time could not be spared. Let’s hope the sacrifice pays off. It would be particularly ironic if the final twenty minutes I would have needed to finish everything eluded me because I spent that time blogging about time management.

Actually, I can easily see that happening. FML.

Octoberfest

2009-10-11T22:44:00.000-07:00

Judging by the disconcertingly small number of readers Google analytics and my comments section tells me I have, I have realized I am more or less talking to myself. While this does leave me with an intelligent and highly thoughtful audience, I realized that it doesn’t really matter what I write about so long as it is interesting to yours truly. So at the risk of alienating both of my other readers, its time to talk some baseball.

As I previously stated, my Braves did not make it into the postseason. That final NL playoff spot went to the baseball equivalent of counting sheep, your 2009 Colorado Rockies. As I type this they are trying to take a 2-1 series lead on the Phillies, which would of course make the dozens of Rockies fans in America thrilled. The Dodgers have already moved on to the National League Championship Series and await the winner of the aforementioned division series. In the interest of full disclosure, I predicted the already defeated Cardinals would represent the National League in the World Series, so my fortune telling skills leave something to be desired. Nevertheless, I think the Dodgers will have their work cut out for them no matter who emerges from the the Phills-Rocks series. I do see the Dodgers emerging victorious, mainly because their pitching staff seams to have finally hit its stride. Furthermore, once Manny Ramirez receives his next HGH shipment, he will be primed and ready to tear up the left handed rotation of the Phillies, or the just plain crappy rotation of the Rockies.

I was very happy to see the Yankees back in the postseason in the American League. Even Yankee haters have to admit, baseball is better and more interesting when they are relevant. Fans need an enemy. I’ve actually come to appreciate the Yankees and I am rooting for them to win it all this year. A large part of this is due to the treatment of Alex Rodriquez, who despite being a social misfit is one of the most talented players of our or any other lifetime. Give the steroids talk a rest. He did them like everyone else did, and still may be for all we know. We can only judge players by how they perform against their peeI’m glad to see he is performing up to his potential so far this postseason, with two bombs and six runs driven in so far in the first three games. If he continues this tear, the Yankees will not lose. He is that type of player. It is interesting how a few games can shape a players image, for better or worse, and it seems that A-Rod’s “failure to deliver in the clutch” tag is quickly disappearing.

The Angels-Yankees series should be a great one. Both teams have talented starters at the top of their rotations and solid bullpens. In the case of the Yankees, having the ability to go with Chamberlain, Hughes, and Rivera to close out games is borderline unfair. Add in the fact that they have the most loaded lineup in baseball and it is no wonder they are the prohibitive favorite to win the Series this year. I hope they do. It has been a while since they’ve stood on the top of that mountain and the baseball universe just doesn’t seem right if the Yankees have gone that long without asserting themselves as Kings of the Hill. Maybe if they win enough my mid to late 90’s hatred of them will return and I can once again proudly sport my Fenway Park souvenir “Yankees Suck” t-shirt.

I hope you all enjoy this amazing sports month. It has always been my favorite. The playoffs are in full swing, the NFL is starting to separate the contenders from pretenders, the NBA is getting ready to unfold a new season, college football is alive and well every Saturday, and college basketball is just around the corner. If I followed the NHL, I would be happy it is going on as well, but I don’t so I couldn’t care less. Add to that the fact that my fantasy football team just won for the third week in a row, the Mark it Zero bowling team is in contention for the Wednesday night league crown and I’ve been breaking 40 left and right on the golf course, all seems right in the universe.

Now I just need Megan Fox to start returning my calls.

Sharing Isn't Always a Good Thing

2009-10-04T21:43:00.000-07:00

They gave it a good run. Despite seemingly being out of contention a month ago, my Braves made a valiant end of the season run at the wild card, sadly coming up short despite winning 16 of 19 at one point. I have to tip my cap to Cindy’s Rockies, who became the most boring team to make a run into October since Al Gore and Joseph Lieberman. I’d give her even more credit if she could name half of their starting lineup, but I’m proud of her for even caring enough to rub it in my face. I’m also proud of Los Bravos, because even though they ran out of gas in the final week, they gave fans something to hope for going into the 2010 season. Wait till next year!

With my favorite team out of contention going into this weekend, I turned my attention to my Alma Matter and their battle with Utah State. I know what you’re thinking. Utah State isn’t even an accredited university. I’m well aware of that. I’m pretty sure their football team is comprised of the first 55 people to show up to the stadium not riding a farm animal. But they are a part of BYU’s “Help a Struggling Friend Outreach Program,” so the game did indeed take place. Being the generous and Christlike individual he is, Max Hall continued his effort to distribute footballs to the opposing team, gift wrapping two passes to confused Utah State defenders who must have been shocked that Hall would so blatantly stare down the receiver he was looking to throw to. An irate, drunken man with Turrets would have been more subtle. Maybe try looking off the defender for once, Max. Give it a try for me, that’s all I’m asking.

The best news for Cougar fans was seeing #7 Brian Logan on the sidelines until late in the game when it was already decided. You might remember Logan from such performances as last weeks three pass interference penalties, two touchdowns, and probably five other big plays given up. Not sure if he was hurt this week or if the coaches finally decided it wasn’t a good idea to keep throwing out a five foot six defensive back who never feels compelled to turn around and look at the football as its coming in his direction. Either way, by keeping Logan on the sidelines, we improved our pass defense immensely. Good call, Bronco.

All in all it was a fairly mediocre performance for BYU. I think our season is going to come down to Max Hall and whether or not he decides to only throw the ball to the players wearing the same jersey he is sporting, or if he plans on continuing to share the wealth. Maybe if he finds more ways to be kind and giving off of the football field, he won’t feel so compelled to continue his Santa Clausesque generosity on the gridiron. Here’s to hoping he didn’t watch any General Conference this weekend so that he won’t feel the need to be quite as helpful to others as he has been lately.

A War of Semantics

2009-09-27T22:42:00.000-07:00

There is a serious problem in our society and I readily admit that I am accomplice to the same crime as those around me. It’s something that has gone on long enough and it has to stop. While in a way I feel that our hand has been forced to take the road we all seem to have collectively chosen, it doesn’t justify the disservice we have done. Friends, lets pledge here and now to put an end to the madness.

We have completely and absolutely destroyed the meaning behind calling someone a douchebag.

Not too long ago in the name calling world, dropping the DB on someone deserving was like the Enola Gay unloading Little Boy on Hiroshima. It was powerful, destructive, and got results. Now I hear the term for any little offense, and it has lost all meaning. In short, we overused one of our most powerful weapons.

I think I know how we got to this point. As I previously stated, there is blame to share. How can a word not get overused when we have an influx of collar popping, skinny jeans wearing, chest shaving, flatbilled-hat sporting toolsheds walking around us constantly? I mean, have you been to the Belmont lately? Quite simply, its entrapment. Still, someone asking for it is not a good enough excuse. I’d be willing to bet most criminals guilty of violent crime thought the other person was asking for it. That doesn’t make our abuse of the term any more justified.

Despite the tremendous opportunity presented to us daily to pepper others with the douchebag tag, we need to be stronger. By playing it so free and loose with the term, we have essentially killed it as an effective way to cut someone down who is truly deserving of the label. Remember the Rumble in the Jungle? It was in this famous title fight that Muhammad Ali forced George Foreman to expend all of his energy too early in the fight by employing the “Rope a dope” strategy. He stayed back and let Foreman throw punch after punch until he had nothing left and couldn’t successfully fight in the later rounds. You might also remember this strategy from every Rocky movie ever made.

The lesson here? Save something for the later rounds. Don’t unload the big guns right out of the gate. If someone acts in a way that over the previous years would have been described as douchey, call them a tool, punk, loser, or prick. You can even invent new words. Be creative. But let’s save the big guns for those special cases that actually deserve it. The K-Feds of the world, if you will.

This is a fight that needs fighting. We are the soldiers in this war, and it must be a team effort. Together we can restore meaning to a term that if used correctly can bring down the biggest of men. Let us all vow to engage in this war of semantics effectively and without mercy. Future generations are counting on us.

Please. Don’t let them down.

Get out of the Way!!

2009-09-20T20:56:00.000-07:00

I don’t think I’m alone in wanting to be rich. There are a myriad of reasons for wanting money, and I’m sure that most reasons are unique to each individual. Some people want to be able to travel all over the world. Others want to be able to buy nice houses and beautiful cars, not to mention electronic luxuries, while others still seek to add to their never ending wardrobes. There is absolutely nothing wrong with any of these reasons, and I admit they all sound great. But I’ve got a new one. I want to teach the citizens of Provo how to be pedestrians.

What does that mean, you say? I’ll tell you what it means. I am so sick of pedestrians in Provo. It seems like all creatures on earth have a survival instinct, with the exception of those dim-witted morons crossing our fair streets everyday. To me, walking in front of oncoming traffic seems like a poor decision. Apparently I am in the minority. Every morning I drive to work, half asleep mind you, and end up having to slam on my breaks to avoid hitting some jackass that thinks a crosswalk means you don’t have to look to see if cars are coming.

Martin Luther King Jr. had a dream, and so do I. While not as high minded, I desire to see my dream fulfilled just as passionately as Dr. King. My dream is this: to have enough money that I can hit pedestrians when then dart out in front of my car. Sadistic? Yes. Necessary? I believe so.

It is my belief that the idiotic pedestrians of Provo need to be hit by oncoming automobiles. It is the only way they will learn. If you get hit by a car, how willing will you be to march on into the road without making sure the coast is clear? Not very, I presume. I’ve heard the excuse from some of these half-wits that the driver of the car would be at fault, and therefore would have to pay for their doctor bills and maybe even a settlement. This is true. But how much money do you get if you are dead? How much money would you gladly sacrifice in order to have the ability to walk?

It doesn’t really matter if the cars are supposed to stop. That is the message I want to drive home, literally and figuratively. Someday I hope to have the means to make this dream come true. Until then I will continue to silently fume as I try my best not to comply with the death wish of the soon to be brain dead pedestrians of Provo.

My Bucket List

2009-09-20T20:28:00.000-07:00

Visit every major league baseball stadium
Kiss someone at the top of the Eiffel Tower
Attend the Masters Golf tournament in Augusta, Georgia
Break par on 18 holes of Golf (not miniature)
Have season tickets to the nearest major league baseball team
Attend the Super Bowl, World Series, NBA and Stanley Cup Finals, and the Collegiate National Championship in Football, Baseball, and Basketball
Skydive
Bungeejump
Travel to all 6 hospitable continents (no desire to freeze my ace off in Antarctica)
Publish a book
Live in Europe for a year
Visit every state in the Union (still have 6 to go)
Bench Press 275 pounds
Catch a foul ball at a major league game
Attend a Premier League Soccer game in England
Successfully complete the Gallon Challenge
Celebrate New Years at Times Square
Go on an African Safari
Serve a Mission with my wife
Go on a cruise
Stay in a 5 star hotel
Visit all 19 Presidential Libraries
Walk on the Great Wall
Visit Stonehenge
Visit the Pyramids in Egypt
Jerusalem (see it all)

I will continue to add to the list as necessary but I think this is a pretty good one to start with. It would be amazing to accomplish all of these things. Most of it relates to sports and traveling, as they are two of my greatest loves. Any thoughts or suggestions?

Suck it Korea!

2009-09-13T22:32:00.000-07:00

Oh, BYU. You were awesome again this weekend. Please continue your dominance. Even if it results in me visiting Cindy in Korea, which I have promised to do if we win the national championship. Who would have though it was actually a possibility? Not me. Nevertheless, I would be happy to visit under such circumstances. That is all. Yes, Cindy, this is copping out. Two blogs to come this week as penance. Loves.

For Love of the Game

2009-09-06T14:10:00.000-07:00

I love sports, absolutely and completely. It’s hard to say what it is I love most about them, or even why I fell in love in the first place. I love competition and how it either brings out the best or the worst within us. I love to see people excel at something they have devoted their lives to, and I love the utter joy or despair that comes after giving your all and either winning or losing. I love the endless possibilities of a new season as well as the finality of that season’s end. But most of all I love the passion.

A very good friend of mine and I were discussing the subject of passion a while back and I still think about that conversation today. When I talk about passion, I mean the pure love of something to the point that you devote your whole self to it. This can be a hobby, a profession, an interest or just about anything. Often this is something over which we have little control. The beauty of caring so deeply for something partially or wholly out of your control is that by totally and completely immersing yourself in it, you can win big or lose big.

This is why I’m a sports fan. There is nothing like devotedly following a team and having that team win. I’ve known people that have loose affiliations with a team and when that teams wins, they are happy, but nowhere near as happy as the person who dutifully followed that team from the beginning, experiencing all the highs and lows that led to the victory. To experience that highest level of joy, you have to be there for the losses, and those losses have to hurt. It is a much more difficult way to be a fan, but the payoff is unquestionably worth it.

My dad called me after BYU beat Oklahoma last night, and all of these thoughts about passion came flooding back into my mind. He was elated. My dad is an alumnus of BYU, and he has been their most loyal fan. For 30 years he has been there for the good and bad times, enjoying a national championship as well as losing seasons; riding the wave of emotion from a trip to the Elite Eight and dying a little with every first round NCAA tournament loss. As we talked about the unbelievable victory, I remembered why it is I love sports and why I will continue to put my heart and soul into rooting for the teams I love even when the other team’s field goal try doesn’t sail wide left.

I’m so glad my dad taught me how to care deeply and passionately. By and large I think this is something sorely missing in the world today. People get hurt and they either stop caring, or guard themselves against caring too much, but either way, they miss out on the treasure that is rewarded passion. One of my favorite sports writers, Roger Angell, summed up my feelings on this topic more eloquently and beautifully than I could hope to:

It is foolish and childish, on the face of it, to affiliate ourselves with anything so insignificant and patently contrived and commercially exploitive as a professional sports team, and the amused superiority and icy scorn that the non-fan directs at the sports nut (I know this look -- I know it by heart) is understandable and almost unanswerable. Almost. What is left out of this calculation, it seems to me, is the business of caring -- caring deeply and passionately, really caring -- which is a capacity or an emotion that has almost gone out of our lives. And so it seems possible that we have come to a time when it no longer matters so much what the caring is about, how frail or foolish is the object of that concern, as long as the feeling itself can be saved. Naiveté -- the infantile and ignoble joy that sends a grown man or woman to dancing and shouting with joy in the middle of the night over the haphazardous flight of a distant ball -- seems a small price to pay for such a gift.

Amen. And go Cougars!!

Oh the Vanity!

2009-08-30T20:39:00.000-07:00

It seems like most things in life are very subjective and it is nigh unto impossible to know what is normal, because all we have to rely on are our own senses and experiences. For example, I am color blind. I have taken many tests on the matter, bombing each and every one in spectacular fashion. It appears to be legit. I don’t know what anyone else sees when they see the colors I struggle to differentiate. All I know is what my eyes tell me. Physical pain is the same way. We will never know what another person experiences when they feel pain. All we know is what we feel when experiencing the same thing or something close to it. Most feelings and perceptions can be relegated to this unknown realm.

I often worry that I am too shallow when it comes to looks. In my defense, I don’t think I am any shallower than any other guy, but that is not really the issue and it would be impossible to tell anyways. All I can do is focus on myself, so I will not try and defend my gender on this issue. (Another time I will discuss which is the shallower sex, but that is for another day.) What makes me think so often about this is the fact that I am very single, and from time to time pass up the chance to date very nice, attractive girls that apparently don’t excite my eyes enough. Am I being too picky, or am I being smart and not settling for something I don’t want?

Remember the movie Shallow Hal with Jack Black? Through hypnosis or something like it, he gets the ability to see women for their inner beauty. As far as he knows, he is dating absolutely gorgeous women, but in fact they are quite repulsive. Is it real? No. But who cares? I think this would be one of the greatest blessings ever bestowed upon a human being. Who cares what other people think? If you think the person is hot, they’re hot. I’ve never understood people who are swayed on that topic by what others think.

So here is my point. I think I am the perfect amount of shallow. Did I come to this conclusion objectively? Absolutely not. I do, however, know that I am the only one who can tell how attracted to a person I am. If a girl claims that a guy isn’t ambitious enough for her, she is usually left alone about the subject. What if someone feels like a guy/girl isn’t spiritual enough? Oh, you should never settle. But looks somehow trigger a different response. Don’t be so superficial. You shouldn’t be focusing on appearance so much.

Well, kids, I’m here preaching a different gospel. Never settle. It doesn’t matter what area it is. If I’m the only one that knows what I see and feel, I’m the only one capable of determining what it is I want. Why should ambition be more important than looks? It shouldn’t. Be strong. Hold out.

Just promise to come and visit me when I’m old and alone.

Nitpicker's Delight

2009-08-19T22:21:00.000-07:00

So I started an LSAT prep class a few weeks ago. I think the whole concept of taking a class so that you can do better on a test that is supposed to measure your prowess at logic is ridiculous. I wish everyone would just walk into these types of exams and take the test. Isn’t that what was intended when the test was invented? It seems like instead of measuring how logical you are, it is measuring how well you prep for an exam. Different skill set, I think. Whatever. I can play the game. I didn’t throw the party, I just came to get down.

Today’s class was interesting. Not a whole lot of new info being shared, but we did quite a bit of practice with logic reasoning problems. Pretty straightforward. You read a very short passage and then answer a question or two about it. The important thing, as my instructor Brent Dunn explains, is to be very careful with the semantics of the statement and answers. If I tell you that some people like chocolate, that is very easy to agree with, as it is a weak assertion. By changing to most people like chocolate, I increase the burden of proof dramatically. If I say all people like it, then that is an easy argument to tear down. Never assume more than is asserted and always be sure that you understand when a certainty is clearly stated. We messed around with plenty of these types of words; probably, certainly, often, always, never, etc. You get the picture. If you are asking wtf is interesting about this the answer is pretty clear: nothing.

What I thought was interesting, however, was the point the instructor made when applying these types of wordings to real life situations. He explained that by picking apart these uses of language with those around us, as well as exaggerations in general, we would technically be correct but after a while nobody would want to hang out with you because you would be so annoying.

First of all, amen. Unless purely for comic effect, this type of behavior bugs. Even if it’s funny, the humor wears off fairly soon. I really didn’t have a second of all, but I like using the phrase “first of all.” The funny thing is that when we were discussing this, I realized that I have been well prepared in this area because it just so happens that I hang out with several people who thoroughly enjoy picking these nits. I get called out all the time for these types of exaggerations. Not that it has stopped me from spinning a yarn or two.

Let it be known that I do exaggerate. I enjoy telling stories but sometimes they are just ok and need that little extra juice to get em over the top. Nobody cares if some guy at the grocery store gave me a menacing stare, but they would care if we went toe to toe and almost came to blows. Does the truth suffer? Yes, it does. Heart wrenching as it may be, it does. But sometimes there are casualties when looking out for the greater good. And by greater good, I mean providing entertainment and laughs to those around me, all the while making me look good. Win-win.

Who cares about accuracy anyway? Not me, I can promise you that. Did George Washington really chop down a cherry tree or whip a fastball across the Potomac? Unlikely. Did the flawless face of Troy’s Helen actually launch a thousand ships? Don’t care. Did Wilt Chamberlain really... ok so I won’t go there. But you get the picture. Hyperbole is cool. Tall tales are so in. Always have been, and always will be. Give me a captivating lie over an uninteresting truth any day. It is, after all, the foundation upon which this great nation was built. George did indeed say it best, but he’s often misquoted. I cannot tell a lie?

Pretty sure he just meant boring ones.

Trust me. It's definitely you.

2008-12-10T17:37:00.000-08:00

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!

2008-11-11T08:06:00.001-08:00

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

2008-10-23T16:23:00.000-07:00

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

2008-10-14T13:40:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-23T01:19:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-21T00:33:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-15T00:27:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-11T11:40:00.000-07:00

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

2008-03-28T06:52:00.001-07:00

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

2008-03-23T23:48:00.000-07:00

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

2008-03-13T11:06:00.000-07:00

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

2008-02-04T14:39:00.000-08:00

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

2008-01-31T11:14:00.000-08:00

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

2008-01-25T11:50:00.000-08:00

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

2008-01-22T17:53:00.000-08:00

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.