Get out of the Way!!

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

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!

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

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!

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

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.

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.