The Long Carry

Jimmertime

2011-02-10T17:19:00.003-07:00

Best Jimmer thread ever: http://dreamcatchermedia.com/jimmered

Giga Pudding

2010-12-09T16:52:00.003-07:00

What happens when flan meets Japan? Just a little thing called Giga Pudding. Enjoy!

"Drastic times require what? DRASTIC MEASURES, YES!"

2010-09-16T13:55:00.005-06:00

I'll be honest, I've been going back and forth for weeks trying to decide who I'm going to vote for in the County Treasurer election. Granted, I don't live in Stark County, Ohio. But I take this election very seriously and I want to make my vote count. No longer will I be swayed by the silver tongue and easy speech of blowhards like Tim Calhoun. No, it's time for a change. Won't you join me in rising up to elect Phil Davison as Stark County Treasurer?

Good Sugar Logic

2010-08-19T17:12:00.002-06:00

Hard to argue with that logic.

Survivor: Family Edition. Who ya got?

2010-05-18T09:29:00.019-06:00

Cali and I were driving home from our weekend getaway and, as is my custom, I started to get a little drowsy in the heat of the midday sun. To keep me awake, Cali suggested that we pretend we are going to play a real-life Survivor game in the jungle and we have to pick teams from amongst our family members. The Survivor game would be just like the TV show - a gruelling combination of physical challenges, survival skills, and social-strategic play.

We drafted two sets of teams - an EMIG set and an EARL set. After seeing the results, I feel like my teams are clearly superior and would definitely win against her tribe in Survivor. Time to weigh in - what are your thoughts?

*Note: Teams are listed below in order of age, NOT in the order they were drafted, except I don't really know the ages of the in-laws so it's my best guess. Also, Cali got the first pick in each draft.

SURVIVOR - EMIG

Joey's Team

Dad
Mom
Joey
Aaron
Allison
Jared

Cali's Team

Cali
Dave
Natalie
Emily
Austin
Lindsay

SURVIVOR - EARL

Joey's Team

Doug
Connie

Joey

Justin

Kyle

Sam

Isaac

Michael's wife

Cali's Team

Jason
Kaelynn
Cali
Cort
Angelique
Ashley
Linh
Michael

My teams would dominate. No brainer, right?

Filthy as usual

2010-04-17T16:56:00.007-06:00

Lincecum was filthy against the Dodgers today, just like usual. Last week when Timmy was pitching in some rainy weather, I hit rewind to have a second look at a shot of Timmy's flowing locks blowing in the wind between pitches. Cali howled with laughter and threatened to tell everyone we know. No need - I'm not ashamed of my man crush. It should be a federal holiday every time Tim Lincecum pitches. Bottom line is that big league hitters look silly every time Timmy is on the bump. Can he win a third consecutive Cy Young Award this year? You better believe it.

Speaking of silly, here are a couple lighter moments from America's pastime:

- On August 22, 2007 the Rangers beat the Orioles 30-3. In one of the better quotes you'll ever hear, Orioles' third baseman Kevin Millar was asked about the record-breaking beatdown and he replied, "I mean, what do you say? Do you say, 'OK, guys, let's hit four grand slams -- and we'll only be losing by 11?'"

- On Opening Night of the season this year, the Yankees' Chan Ho Park came into the game and got tattooed by the Red Sox, giving up 3 runs in less than an inning to lose the game for the Yanks. When he was asked afterwards about the poor outing, he had a pretty good explanation.

Snippets and Quotes from March Madness 2010

2010-03-23T15:32:00.006-07:00

Tonight is my fantasy baseball draft so obviously I have very little time for this post. However, here are a few gems from the recently-completed March Madness 2010 trip to Las Vegas:

- In keeping with his custom, Dave parked his roll-away bed (the Wynn roll-aways are super comfy) in front of the TV and remained in that bed for an average of 18.5 hours per day throughout the trip.

- We enjoyed ridiculous meals at the Country Club and Okada, my two favorite restaurants at the Wynn. We ate at the Country Club on my birthday and I had the rib chop, which is by far the most delicious steak I've ever had. I order it every time.

- The NCAA games were incredible this year. The best times of the trip are when a game comes down to the final minute and half of our guys are rooting for one team and half for the other. With all of the overtime games and buzzer-beaters on Thursday and Friday, it was definitely March Madness in our suite.

- I held the lead in our bracket pool for most of the weekend and I'm currently sitting pretty in 3rd place (both guys ahead of me have Kansas winning it all. Suckers.) Could this be the year that I finally win the pool?

- When Michigan St. hit a three-pointer to beat Maryland, Dave (a notorious Big Ten homer) leapt from his bed, gave a deafening yell of approval, and offered all onlookers an emphatic hip-thrusting move complete with six shooters in both hands.

- Quote from Shane as we were driving on Center Street only 2 minutes into our trip: "OK, do you guys want me to read you some exercise myths?"

- Quote from Shane after breakfast on Sunday morning: "Whew, that was a lot of lobster."

- Quote from Shane after a heated debate in the car about the fairness of the Trivia Game categories (keeping in mind that it was Dave's turn to answer next): "THE CATEGORIES ARE FAIR! Ok, the next category is 'Computers'."

- Quote from me following Scott's botched answer to a super-easy NBA question: "How would 'the Suns Arena' be the correct answer to ANY question?"

So it's another successful March Madness trip in the books. Good times. Good times.

Oh, is it baseball season already? I hadn't noticed.

2010-03-10T14:48:00.017-07:00

I like sports. My wife and my DirecTV bill can both attest to that. I'm an avid fan of college and NFL football, college and NBA basketball, and golf. Forget hockey, tennis, NASCAR, and soccer. No time for the marginal sports - I have to allocate my devotion to sports to the big boys. And of all the big boys, there's one that reigns supreme: baseball.

Pitchers and catchers reported two weeks ago. Full squads have been in spring training for over a week now. I'm amped up for the new season and I'm about to go bonkers waiting for one of my top (insert reasonable number so as not to get in trouble for prioritizing over other important things, but secretly elevate that number by a lot) favorite days of the year: my fantasy baseball draft.

To give you a little background, I play in a very competitive fantasy baseball league. If you include time spent watching baseball games, I'd say I spend about 20-25 hours per week managing my team during the baseball season. It's a 10-team league (5x5 roto) and we play for a substantial prize (which I've never won). There are fair amount of good-natured rivalries and a lot of pride on the line among the league members. For example, in 2006 we had 1060 posts to our league message board. Not all of them were friendly.

So with our March 23 draft date looming, I've decided to take a few minutes to share the Top 10 Baseball Thoughts Occupying My Waking Hours:

10. Jose Reyes

Is Reyes going to be healthy or not? Knowing the answer to that question is an order of magnitude more important than knowing the same answer with regard to guys like Ben Sheets or Justin Duchscherer, or even Brandon Webb for that matter. If Reyes is healthy, he's going to produce 1st or 2nd round numbers but he's going to be available in the 5th or 6th round of the draft. Plus, he has added value because of position scarcity (SS) and he's among the MLB elite in one of fantasy baseball's most coveted categories, stolen bases. He's a potential draft bonanza but there's absolutely no telling where he'll be picked in my league.

I'm not building my plans around Jose Reyes but if he's still sitting there when I'm picking with the 58th pick (my pick in the 5th round), I will definitely take him.

9. My strategy for Shortstop

I am absolutely in love with a certain shortstop and I'm building a good part of my draft strategy around getting him. This information is highly confidential so obviously I cannot share the player's identity here. Suffice it to say, I will be escalating my pick of this particular player by at least one round to assure that I get him. I also have a very solid backup plan in place in case things go very wrong on draft day.

8. Ludwick von Homerthoven

In 2008 Ryan Ludwick hit 37 bombs and had 113 RBI. Last year his totals fell to 22 and 97. As a result, his average draft postion in the mock drafts is 138th. People are picking the likes of Alfonso Soriano, Nate McClouth, Jason Kubel, and Hunter Pence ahead of Luddy. With the addition of Matt Holliday in the Redbirds' lineup to offer up even more RBI opportunities for Ludwick, I'm definitely feeling like his 2010 will look a lot more like his '08 than his '09. I'm buying high on Ludwick this year.

7. The Giants

I've always hated the San Francisco Giants. I don't really know why. My favorite player of all time is Willie Mays. The "new" Giants stadium is one of the best parks in America (and home of the best garlic fries I've ever had). They are the arch-rival of the Dodgers, who I detest, so it makes sense that I should like the Giants. And there's a certain #55 that I kind of like (see item 1 below). Therefore, I officially like the Giants. As long as they're not playing the Dbacks.

6. The A's

The A's have long been the unofficial minor league team of Major League Baseball. Despite being in a major market, they don't spend any money on their team but they meticulously sift through the ranks of amateur players to identify hidden talent in their drafts. The result is that Oakland regularly produces excellent players who spend 2-3 seasons wearing yellow and green before being traded at the deadline for more draft picks.

This year the A's have several intriguing players that I'm watching closely. The acquisition of Ben Sheets is very interesting. Someone in our league is going to profit handsomely from Justin Duchscherer's comeback. Brett Anderson and Andrew Bailey seem to be the real deal. And Rajai Davis is likely to make the FBI's Most Wanted list for his theivery.

I think it is safe to assume that I will have at least one Oakland Athletic on my roster this year, hopefully more.

5. No More Steriods

I am starting to believe that Major League Baseball is going to be played on an even playing field again. The last of the juicers appear to be fully deflated. Among the myriad problems that steriods caused for baseball, predicting a player's fantasy value was high on the list. The original "Who's Who" of juicers are long gone (Bonds, Sosa, McGwire, Palmiero, Canseco, Bagwell, Clemens, and the list goes on). The last wave of juicers are still hanging around, but their ability to perform superhuman feats is greatly diminished. As a result, I don't know what to do with guys like David Ortiz, Alfonso Soriano, Jim Thome, Manny Ramirez, Jason Giambi, etc.

What I do know is that the longball has become more scarce as a commodity and the stolen base is no longer on the Endangered Species list. Therefore, I can get bags later in the draft compared to the past several years and I need to make sure I get bombs while they're plentiful.

I'm so glad the Steriod Era is over.

4. New England Boiled Dinner

Last night I watched "Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives" on the Food Network. One of the restaurants that Guy Fieri visited was Morin's Homestyle Restaurant in Attlesboro, Mass. The fellow that owns the joint had a heavy New England accent and every time he said "Noo Englan Boyled Dinnah" I remembered just how much I love to go to Fenway Park.

The Curse is broken, but the fun never stops in Red Sox Nation. This year I entered the lottery to buy single-game tickets for certain home games and, to my astonishment, I not only got selected for the lottery but I then got selected out of the lottery pool to purchase tickets for the Sox-Dodgers series in June. I ended up getting 4 lower level seats for the Friday night game on June 18, which just happens to be the "Return of Manny Ramirez to Fenway Park". Math nerds at MIT are in a fierce competition with their rivals at Harvard to calculate just exactly how awesome that game is going to be. And I'm going to be there.

3. Miggy or The Temp?

My second round pick is the 13th overall. There's no telling what's going to unfold in the first 12 picks, but my sources are telling me that there's a decent possibility that both Ryan Howard and Miguel Cabrera will still be available when I pick at the 13 spot. If Howard is gone then I'll take Cabrera. But if Howard is there, I'm not sure what I'll do. Last time I checked, 45 homers and 141 RBI's is pretty good. But Miggy hits 45 points higher than Howard and my strategy has always been to build around AVG. And Miggy's 34/103 numbers don't look to shabby when combined with that .324 average. It's a tough call; if I don't get Howard then I'm going to have to find some pop at 1B later in the draft and that's not an easy task if I wait beyond the third round.

2. The Snakes

I love the direction the Dbacks are headed. The NL West is improving but the Dbacks are keeping up. They finally have a core group of guys they can reliably build around (Upton, Reynolds, Montero). Chris Young HAS TO BE better than he was last year, doesn't he? And nobody's talking about Conor Jackson but they will be very soon.

Meanwhile, losing Valverde didn't hurt us a bit. Webby is still a little iffy but he's a sinkerballer, not a power pitcher, so I'm betting that he regains his old form by May. Dan Haren is sick. Edwin Jackson is going to be a nice addition to the staff as a number three.

The Dbacks have chosen to avoid bringing in expensive free agents for the most part, instead relying on the quality of their youth movement. Therefore, it's imperative that at least a couple of the youngsters work out (apart from Upton, who is obviously going straight to the Hall of Fame). I think Brandon Allen and Gerardo Parra have a good chance of contributing this season. Hopefully they'll develop fast enough to help the Dbacks contend in the West.

As always, it will come down to pitching. Our middle relief was so bad in '09 that it's still too soon to talk about it. Our 4 and 5 starters (projected to be Kennedy and Buckner, I guess?) will be our biggest vulnerability. It's a shame that Max Sherezer didn't work out. We need someone to emerge as a quality starter, but apart from Kevin Mulvey I don't see any candidates on the projected 25-man roster right now. Still, we should get enough production from the top 3 on the staff to stay in the race in the NL West. It's time for someone to take down the Dodgers.

1. Timmy!

Oh, sweet Lincecum. For him, every day is Halloween because he is a straight up witch. After doing about 20 mock drafts, I determined that I need to draft in position 7 or 8 in our draft in order to get Timmy. When we did the double-blind drawing for draft position, I drew the number 8 slot. Sweet! I hope.

Listen, I don't know if there are any spies from my fantasy league reading this post. If so, you are hereby warned: don't take Timmy with any pick between 1 and 7. If you do, I will punch you in your nose. Repeatedly. Tim Lincecum is property of the Argyle Tarheels, now and forever. Deal with it.

Just to refresh your memory, Lincecum has pitched two full seasons in the bigs. How many Cy Young Awards has he won? Oh, that would be 2.

Look at his numbers from last year: 2.48 ERA (sick), 1.05 WHIP (nasty), and 261 K's (filthy) to go with his 15 W's. The Giants should be better than they were last year so it's not out of the question to think that Timmy could top 20 W's while putting up numbers that make Bob Gibson look like Bartolo Colon. Anyone who says you shouldn't draft a pitcher in the first round has never had the pleasure of watching Tim Lincecum take the bump for his team every five days.

My birthday is coming up. If you're wondering what you can get me, just buy me some peanuts and Cracker Jacks. Baseball is back.

Bible Codes

2010-02-25T22:27:00.006-07:00

One of my favorite things to do is to channel surf on Saturday mornings. It's the only time that my TV watching is truly casual (all other TV watching consists of watching sports or trying to keep up with a demanding schedule of shows that I've committed to watch). There are few things in life better than spending the hours of 9:00 a.m. - 11:00 a.m. lying in bed watching random live TV while the kids replicate the chaos and destruction of the Oklahoma land rush on the other side of our bedroom door.

While engaged in this pastime, Cali and I have twice come across the History Channel's fantastic program called "Bible Codes: Predicting Armageddon". Drawn in by the tractor-beam-like title of the progam, on both occasions we've given an hour of our Saturday morning to the History Channel in hopes of getting some inside information about the end of the world. Both times, we were not disappointed.

Now it should be noted that I don't read Hebrew, I don't have access to an algorithm that searches for code matrices in the Torah, and I have not committed years of my life to growing the most awesome facial hair imaginable, so I'm clearly no authority on Bible Codes. But the chaps on this program can tick all of the boxes referenced above so I tend to take them pretty seriously when it comes to turning the Torah into a hybrid Magic 8 Ball/crossword puzzle.

For example, the program shows various word matrices found in the Torah making supposed reference to historic events. Everything from Shakespeare to Napoleon, Edison to Einstein, the Holocaust to 9/11, and the Wright Brothers to the moon landing are mentioned. And once you've seen enough proof to believe that these codes are 2 Legit to Quit, the program cuts away to commercial with a teaser that makes me pull the blankets up to my chin: what if these codes also predict the future?

Boom. You just sat through a commercial about the Yard Weasel and the Ab-Lounger because you're watching live TV and you cannot afford to miss what's coming next: the end of the world. One of the Bible Codes dudes mentions that the codes indicate that the beginning of the end has already started. Among other things, he says the codes predict that a massive earthquake will hit California in 2010. In fairness to seismologists everywhere, you don't have to be a Bible Codes guru to correctly predict an earthquake in California (where about 1,000 earthquakes happen annually in southern California alone, according to the first Google search result on the phrase "how many earthquakes happen in California each year"). But if you hear about a "big one" in California this year, you're going to remember that these Bible Codes guys have been keeping it real since 2003. What else do they know?

Listen, I hope you're not expecting me to spoil this show for you by giving away the ending. You want to know what happens - then put in the time just like I have. Saturday morning. History Channel. Be there.

[Wanna sneak preview? Check out Professor Robert A. Haralick, Roy A. Reinhold, Mordechai Gafni and friends.]

Memories from the funeral

2010-01-31T20:14:00.007-07:00

It's been almost two months since Grandpa's funeral. Since then Grandma had a birthday and life is moving on. I know I'm not the only one who thinks about how happy Grandpa must be now that he's not limited by the frailties of his age and condition.

I noted a few things during the funeral weekend that I wanted to remember later. Here they are:

Seeing mom and dad leave on the night before the funeral to go dress grandpa for burial. It's one of those things that no child ever wants to do, but the time will come for all of us to do it.

Holding Grandma's hand during our 3 or 4 minute chat before the funeral started.

Cannon being at Arby's when it was time for the cousin picture. (Turns out he went to Jack-In-The-Box, not Arby's. He brought me two tacos for 99 cents, so I felt bad for being the one who told the whole group that he'd gone to Arby's. But not bad enough to not eat the tacos.)

Uncle Clynn's smiling face during Cami's song.

During Clynn's talk, he remembered how Grandpa would tell him, "Son, let's go one more round" when they were nearing the end of a long day on the farm.

The smell of fresh mint growing at the grave site.

It was a funeral, but it was wonderful.

2009-12-07T22:23:00.002-07:00

I'm looking out the window. Snow is falling slowly, softly, forming a blanket over the earth. Everything is peaceful now.

2009-10-16T16:14:00.002-06:00

"It's complicated. I don't even know how things got this way."

- KW

I was there.

2009-09-07T15:22:00.030-06:00

I'll admit, there have been times when I've wondered whether it's worth it to make the road trip. The football Cougars' road record against ranked teams hasn't been very good over the last 12 years or so. I've been in the crowd for losses at USC, UCLA, SDSU, Notre Dame, Boston College, Arizona, Cal, and the list goes on. It's depressing to spend time and money to travel to far away stadiums, only to see your team come up short. But I've always known that one of these days they would win the big one, and there's no way I was going to miss it.

Sept. 5, 2009

I've had the date circled on my calendar for months. Just the chance to play #3 Oklahoma gives BYU credibility as a football program. My best hopes were that we would play a competitive game, keep the score reasonably close (a loss by less than 20 points would be fantastic), and showcase our team and our talent on national TV.

We flew to Dallas in Jeff's plane - a total coup d'etat compared to the rigors of normal travel to away games. I showed up at the Provo airport at 10:24 a.m. I parked 50 feet from the front door. There was no security, no baggage check, no lines. I walked straight onto the plane and we were in the air at 10:38 a.m. Pretty nice.

Once in Dallas, we drove along the Tom Landry Memorial Highway then turned onto the Nolan Ryan Expressway in Arlington. No joke, those Texans know how to honor their sports heroes. We parked about a mile away from the stadium because the parking was only $30 there (compared to $60 and up as we got closer to the entrance). As luck would have it, we parked right next to Colter's BBQ and it seemed like as good a place as any to grab some Texas lunch. Holy cow, it was awesome.

I would seriously go back to Dallas just to eat at this place. They have an all-you-can-eat option for $16.95 which I would have purchased if I hadn't already eaten two sub sandwiches on the plane. I opted for the half rack of baby back pork ribs, with sides of cheesy bacon potatoes and fried okra. They fry up the okra fresh when you order it - classy. I really wanted to try the pecan pie but I was so stuffed coming out of the joint that I could barely walk. (Also, I could barely walk because of the torn muscle in my left calf. I offered Scott Bodily $6 if he would carry me the 1 mile distance to the stadium, and he counter-offered at $1,000. So I walked.)

Check out my heapin' helpin' of Colter's finest:

It was a long, hot walk to the stadium. In case you aren't a meteorologist, let me just say that early September in Dallas is hot. We made it to the stadium and waited to meet up with the rest of our group. While waiting, I noticed this sign (the posterboard, not the Notice of Search):

After quite a bit of discussion, we still couldn't come to a consensus on whether this was a pro-BYU sign or an anti-BYU sign. We had compelling arguments on both sides. Somebody certainly put a lot of work into getting their vague message across.

Inside the stadium, we just kept saying "wow". Jerry Jones (the owner of the Dallas Cowboys) spent $1.5B to build this thing. It is the largest domed structure in the world and contains the two largest HD screens in the world (each one is 60 yards long and the picture is stunning). Even though our seats were only 19 rows from the field, I had to constantly fight the urge to watch the game on the HD screen rather than on the field. It was incredible. Here are a few shots of this beast in action. Compare the size of the images on the screen to the size of the players on the field, or even entire sections of the audience. Incredible.

Not to belabor the point, but this stadium is amazing. Everything was top quality, from the marble floors to the cushioned leather seats to the Dallas Cowboys embossed paper towels in the bathrooms. (Note: male Texans don't seem to take too kindly to other males taking photographs in the men's room. So if you need to photograph some paper towels, do it quickly and then split).

Oh, so there was this game . . .

We were pretty much in shock right from the start. The Cougars defense kept Oklahoma at bay throughout the first half and when Bradford went down I instantly knew we were going to win. I knew it. In fact, I yelled it loudly to the rest of the guys in our group, which didn't go over too well with the Oklahoma fans sitting right behind us.

BYU didn't move the ball very well in the 3rd quarter and I sensed that we were blowing our chance to overtake the Sooners. But our defense's goal line stand at the start of the 4th quarter was epic - I'll never forget it. Even the usually-stoic Bronco Mendenhall was fist-pumping on the sidelines.

Our 4th quarter scoring drive took more than 8 minutes off of the clock. It included a phenomenal 4th-down conversion from Hall to Pitta that took us all the way inside the 10 yard line. All of this happened down at the end of the field where we were sitting so we had a perfect view. When Hall lobbed the winning TD catch to Jacobsen, all 15,000 Cougar fans went berzerk. I snapped this shot of Max Hall coming off of the field after the play, stopping at the 6 yard line to scream euphorically at the Cougar section of the crowd.

We had to endure the final 3:03 of the game, staving off Oklahoma's 54-yard field goal attempt that would have won it for them. But the kick fluttered hopelessly wide left and short, which set off a scene of pure madness in the Cougar crowd.

As the game ended and for a good 15 minutes afterwards, we just jumped up and down screaming. Grown men were hugging while they jumped up and down. And by "grown men", I mean me and Jeff Hall. It's our signature move whenever BYU wins a huge game. At one point during the celebration Scott Bodily gave me a full embrace and screamed, "I love you!". Here's a shot of me right after OU missed the field goal attempt. This is just pure jubilation.

Jeff wouldn't stop jumping up and down so this blurry shot was the best I could capture.

We saw Justin and Angelique with Dougie in tow. You know those guys wouldn't miss being there for a game like this.

Maybe the best part of this victory story is that it hapened on my dad's 60th birthday. How sweet was it to be with my dad, on his 60th birthday, to witness this unbelievable victory together! We've suffered through a lot of BYU losses over the years. I can tell you, we will never forget the feeling of being there in person, together, as we took down the mighty Oklahoma Sooners.

I snapped a shot of this guy's poster as we were leaving the stadium. I love it. Take that, BCS.

Before the game we were discussing the possible final score, with everyone giving their best guesses. At one point Jeff Knowles said, "If BYU wins, I will eat 4 Atomic Fireballs at the same time." Well . . . the Cougars sure did win that game. Back on the plane, we put Jeff to the test. He only made it to 3 Atomic Fireballs before succumbing to the heat. He spit them out after about a minute and a half. Come on Knowles! Take one for the team!

We landed at the Provo airport at about 1:15 a.m. As we walked off the plan, a rapturous cheer erupted from the crowd of about 1,000 Cougar fans who had gathered at the airport waiting for the team plane. They started chanting, "We love the trainers! We love the trainers!" What, we don't look like a bunch of BYU linebackers?

What a game. What an experience. We may lose the next hundred road games I go to, but BYU fans will never stop talking about the night we went to Texas and beat the Oklahoma Sooners. And I was there.

Let's have one more look at that jumbotron:

2009-08-17T15:06:00.009-06:00

And under the boughs unbowed

All clothed in the snowy shroud

She had no heart so hardened

All under the boughs unbowed

Each feather, it fell from skin

'Til thread bare while she grew thin

How were my eyes so blinded?

Each feather, it fell from skin

And I will hang my head

Hang my head low

And I will hang my head

Hang my head low

A gray sky, a bitter sting

A rain cloud, a crane on wing

All out beyond horizon

A gray sky, a bitter sting

And I will hang my head

Hang my head low

And I will hang my head

Hang my head low

And I will hang my head

Hang my head low

And I will hang my head

Hang my head low

And I will hang my head

Hang my head low

And I will hang my head

Hang my head low, low, low...

-The Decemberists

Timmy!

2009-07-17T15:41:00.004-06:00

I probably spend at least an hour a day just thinking about how much I like Tim Lincecum.

Happy Independence Day

2009-07-04T14:45:00.007-06:00

I love baseball. I love America.

This might be the greatest baseball play ever made.

Here's the famous photograph taken by James Roarke. I love how you can clearly see the stars and stripes.

When Monday came up to bat in the next half inning, the crowd gave him a standing ovation and the scoreboard at Dodger Stadium showed this display:

God bless America.

Do you like Chinese food?

2009-06-11T20:23:00.021-06:00

I spent 10 days in northern China in late May. It was supposed to be two weeks, but my traveling companion, we'll call him Geoff Knools, said he had had enough of China after the first week so we moved up our departure date.

I wanted to make a running blogumentary while I was on the trip but it turns out the government of China now blocks all Blogger/Blogspot domains. So I couldn't post to my own blog and I couldn't read anyone else's that uses Blogger. This must be a fairly new change in China because I successfully blogged during my trip to Shanghai last October. Anyway...

We spent a few days in Langfang, Tianjin, and Beijing. I pretty much just took pictures of the food because it is so crazy. So no long narratives here - just a bunch of photos for your viewing pleasure.

I should mention that we were there as part of a diplomatic trade mission so everywhere we went we were greeted by government officials and treated to the highest-quality meals. Almost without fail, the preparations and service were phenomenal, but the food was almost always gross. In China, group meals are taken at a circular table with the food placed in the middle on a circular platform that spins around. At the fancy restaurants, the food platform is mechanized to spin slowly and continuously (meaning that no matter how gross a particular dish was, it was bound to pass in front of your nose about once every 60 seconds).

The dish below is sea cucumbers. Also known as sea slugs, a fact I learned just a few seconds after putting this in my mouth and then spitting it out. The texture was horrible and the taste wasn't far behind.

It takes real culinary skill to slice pig's ear into thin, delicate pieces. Not surprisingly, most of the pieces remained on the plate throughout the meal.

Notice how beautifully the chef arrayed this lovely plate of giant sea clam (served cold, of course).

These little cakes were served as a dessert dish. They were warm, just out of the oven and were actually really good. They are made of green bean paste and coated in sesame seeds. They had the texture of a cookie fresh out of the oven - crispy on the outside but chewy on the inside. There was some sweetness to them but I'm not sure what ingredient caused it. Nevertheless, it was a winning dish.

So, wow. This item is called "thousand year old egg". Apparently, in China, the term "thousand years" means "a long time". So the concept here is that they bury a raw egg in the ground for a long time. Then they dig it up. Then they eat it.

I asked how long is "a long time" and I learned that these eggs typically stay underground for about 6 months before being harvested. You can see that the yolk has decayed into a solid green mass and the white has turned into an opaque rubbery brown substance.

Honestly, are they just trying to think of new exciting ways to make even grosser food?

I'll take a break here to mention that every meal, without fail, features an entire fish laid out on a plate. Scales, head, eyeballs, fins, tail, everything. You have to poke at the flesh and extract the meat (usually with small bones in it) with your chopsticks. I took before and after shots of many of the poor fish. Please enjoy.

Enough fish. How about snails? The first picture is a plate of shelled, giant slugs. The second photo is a bowl of tiny snails still in their shells. Something for everyone!

Here's a photo of me outside of a restaurant where we had lunch one day. The name of the restaurant, translated, is "The Dog Won't Eat It". No lie.

Well here's a photo of the most vile, disgusting food I've ever been served in my life. It's called "stinky tofu". Tofu, by itself, is pretty gross. It is fermented bean curd after all. But regular tofu isn't even in the same stratosphere as stinky tofu.

Stinky tofu is made by taking regular tofu, then sitting it on tables in direct sunlight for days and days, then taking into dark cool rooms where mold can thrive for days and days, then taking it back out into the sun for days and days, again and again. The aging process can last for months, depending on just how stinky you like your tofu.

The consistency was like a burned brownie. The smell was nothing like a brownie.

Honestly, when they brought it to the table it triggered our gag reflex. Two Chinese people at our table actually tried a bite but they both put down the rest of the piece on their plates. The dish circled around the table for about 2 minutes until we asked the waitress to take it away. She set it on a table behind one of the guys in our group and the smell remained so strong that he had to get up and leave. Finally they took it away altogether.

Stinky tofu smells like a pig corral on the hottest day of July. I lost my appetite just from the stench. If there's anything fouler that people voluntarily eat in this world, I'll be amazed to find out what it is. Trust me - you don't want to get within 10 feet of stinky tofu.

The trip was actually quite successful for our business purposes. I expect to be going back to Beijing sometime this year, and probably on a regular basis thereafter. I have learned that no matter where you go in China, it's not hard to find the golden arches. Those arches are always a welcome repreive, even if they are serving bean pies. (2 for a dollar - what a deal!)

Speaking of beans, one evening "Geoff" and I went to a large mall looking for a movie theater with English movies. We didn't find one, but we found an ice cream vendor selling a white ice cream with brown chunks in it. It had its Chinese name on the label, and underneath it said "Cookies and Cream". Seemed safe enough so we bought it even though it was $3 (which is a lot to pay for snacks in China where everything is cheap). One bite into it, we learned that the brown chunks were boiled black beans, all mushy and beany. Sorry - no photo - but you can imagine my dismay.

Oh, here's a cool thing. I broke my personal land-speed record. Previously, the fastest I had ever traveled on land was 161 mph in Geoff Knools' BMW Z8 a few years ago. We hit that mark somewhere in the Beaver Triangle on a trip down to Vegas.

But 161 ain't nothin', my friends. We took a bullet train from Tianjin to Beijing and hit 204 mph during the trip. That train was smoove - there was no vibration and virtually no sound. Check it out.

We had a lot of adventures on this trip. I swashbuckled my way through the Silk Market en route to tons of great shopping bargains. I toured a 100% organic farming community that grows all of its food inside mud huts with plastic tarps for a roof. We met with the management of an enormous steel factory and saw the molten ore glowing as it was poured into I-beam formations. I even played a round of golf at a "country club" in Beijing, where the rented clubs were Dunlops that were of a mid-1980's vintage (I shot 84 from the back tees despite the terrible sticks).

Here's a parting photo - one that will inspire you to visit Beijing yourself the next chance you get. This is Sidney, one of the guys in our group. In this photo, he is just finishing off the fourth scorpion on a skewer that he purchased from the street vendor behind him. That's China.

The Delicious Cycle

2009-04-23T21:13:00.004-06:00

Thanks to Scott Wessman, who pointed me to this comic strip illustrating the delicious dilemmas I face every day at meal time.

Spring Break 2009 - Europe or bust!

2009-04-15T12:08:00.028-06:00

Last week was spring break for the kids. We were planning to take a trip to Disneyland. Wanting to avoid Disneyland's crowds and heat in the summer, and knowing that the new baby will be here in October, the week of spring break looked like our best chance to make a Disney trip happen in the next two years or so. But two days before we were planning to leave I found out I had to leave for Europe the next day for work. Honestly - no golf clubs or nuthin'.

The trip ended up being a whole lot of work and not too much spare time to goof around, but I snapped a few photos.

First, of course, it's Britain's most well known food: Nachos

Despite being delicious, the preparation was a little odd. The chips were kind of like a generic version of Doritos, seasoned with the cheese flavor. It's not known how often the cook is called upon to prepare an order of nachos, but it might not be that often because a good 30% of my chips came out "extra crispy".

The plate featured two large blobs of mostly-melted cheese sitting atop the pile of chips. The ratio of jalepenos to chips was quite high. The sour cream was a little britishy and the salsa was kind of bland, but the guacamole was nice.

What really made this dish memorable were the environs in which I enjoyed it. Who can say naught of "The Clarence"? This place is an olde world pub that features a lunch and dinner menu in addition to its wide array of spirits. Because this was not my first trip to Europe, I coolly ordered my Pepsi in a pint glass, thereby avoiding the classic American mistake of ordering a soda and ending up with about 4 fluid ounces in a tiny glass. The Clarence is only a short couple of blocks down the street from Parliament, Big Ben, Westminster Abbey, etc. and I highly recommend that you stop in for a plate of nachos the next time you're in London. In the meantime, please enjoy these photos of The Clarence.

Jeff and I walked back to the hotel so I snapped a few shots of Big Ben and Parliament. We didn't stop to check them out, or visit the other tourist sites close by because, let's be honest, Jeff doesn't care about that stuff one bit.

Most hotels in Europe are terrible. I navigated around that fact quite nicely with my choice of the Sofitel St. James, pictured below. I highly recommend it.

At the end of the week we flew to Zurich, Swizterland for a day and a half. I had never been to Switzerland and I must say it is quite charming. Here are a couple of shots of the cobblestone street and shops outside our hotel:

As you probably know, the main food preferred by the Swiss is, well, nachos. When in Rome . . .

The sour cream was definitely problematic. Surprisingly, the chips were quite nice. I wouldn't put the guacamole in my Top 10 of all time, but the portion was decent and overall this dish wasn't as bad as I thought it might be. Along with these beauties I also ordered chicken fajitas. They were served as two tortillas, filled precisely to the brim with cubed pieces of chicken, glued together with cheese so that the tortillas formed a taco shape that held its form at all times. No salsa, no onions or peppers, but they were actually not too bad.

In the morning I enjoyed a delightful bowl of museli. This was a granola-yogurt concoction infused with fresh apples and nuts. The picture doesn't do it justice, but I have to say it was delicious!

We had a layover at London Heathrow before flying back to the states. I love shopping in convenience stores and snack shops in Europe because they always have the most interesting flavors of treats and drinks. I enjoyed this Gorgeous Cloudy Lemon soda on the plane . . .

. . . along with these chips. The flavor printed on the bag is not a joke. These chips were seasoned with a flavor that tasted exactly like a combination of cajun spices and squirrel. Not surprisingly, I would not recommend these (but I did eat the whole bag on the plane).

I wanted to upgrade my cabin class for the long flight home, but I found out at the ticket counter that the cost to upgrade into Traveller Plus (not even Business Class or First Class) was $4,000. Staying with my economy class ticket seemed like the prudent thing to do.

That's it. Spring Break 2009 - Europe or bust.

Medium-length statements of update

2009-04-05T20:13:00.009-06:00

Below are several medium-length statements of update.

1. For those closely following my weight loss endeavors, I got down to 173.2 but am now sitting at 176.1. I downloaded the "Lose It" app after seeing it on an iPhone commercial and it is fantastic. I'm trying to get down to 170 but I'm not going to continue skipping dinner anymore. Mainly because dinner is delicious.

2. UNC easily swatted away Villanova in the Final Four last night, precisely as I predicted. Well, I predicted they would win by 13 and the final margin was 14 so it wasn't precisely as I predicted, but pretty close. Now the Heels will play Michigan State on Monday night for all the marbles. It'll be another easy win - margin 11 points - and our household will be rocking and rolling. I made a weak attempt at getting Cali's commitment to give our forthcoming baby a Tarheel-themed name if they win the title just like we did the last time the Heels were champs(2005), but she rebuffed the advance soundly.

3. Notwithstanding tonight's Braves/Phillies game, tomorrow is the official Opening Day for Major League Baseball. Opening Day is the greatest day of the year.

4. Regarding her broken leg, Carolina told me last week: "Dad, if someone jumps on your leg then that is just an accident. But if someone doesn't jump on your leg, you can keep walking."

5. When you put your head down and plow forward, keeping the faith, trusting in yourself and your intuition, then the feeling of finally realizing a goal is immensely gratifying.

6. I keep saying that I'm going to run the Tokyo Marathon in February 2010 but so far none of my cohorts are giving me any details about registration. I'm only committing to run so I can take a trip to Japan. So unless somebody takes the lead and gets our registration questions answered, I'm not going to waste time jogging around the block over and over again.

Mission Accomplished - 10 lbs

2009-03-08T11:48:00.002-07:00

I did it. I lost 10 pounds. It took 14 days of no-carb suffering but I did it.

Now that I am a svelte 175 lbs, offers for leading movie roles and male model contracts have been pouring in. Flattering, but I'm a family man so I've instructed my people to tell their people that I'm not interested.

Like the classic George W. Bush incident pictured here, it's true that my diet is "Mission Accomplished" but there's still some more work to do. I'd like to get to 173.5 in the next week or so, and ultimately I'd like to maintain an active weight of 170. I've committed to run the Tokyo Marathon a year from now, so as long as I stick with that commitment I'm confident that I'll remain slim and trim for the forseeable future.

Now I'm off to make some nachos. It's been a long two weeks.

I'm a loser - 9 pounds and counting

2009-03-05T20:19:00.006-07:00

My friend, let's call him Nick Beef, started an Atkins-esque diet about a month ago. He weighed 260 pounds at the time and he's lost 20 pounds so far. 10 days ago, after getting annoyed that we had to choose lunch restaurants based on his new dietary requirements, I decided to try to lose some weight as well. I have been drudging along at about 185 pounds for the last year, which is 10 pounds more than the 175 I weighed for the previous 11+ years.

I've never been one for diets - life is too short - but that attitude was much easier to justify when my weight was in an acceptable range. I wasn't sure how much commitment I'd be able to muster on this attempted diet, but I started losing weight right away so the positive results have kept me going. After 10 days I've lost exactly 9 pounds and I'm down to a slim 176.6 lbs.

I checked a Body Mass Index calculator today to find out where 176 stacks up, and it turns out that it falls just outside the "Normal Weight" classification. That's another way of saying that I'm still in the "Overweight" classification. In fairness, those classifications are pretty agressive by lazy American standards. Check out your own weight here and you'll probably be pretty mad at the BMI calculator. It doesn't factor in age, for example, so if anyone knows of a better calculator let me know.

So my goal was to go from 185.6 to 175.0. Now the BMI calculator tells me that I need to hit 173.5 in order to qualify as "Normal Weight". I guess I'll stick with this diet through the weekend and hope that I can get there. I'm about 10 days away from heading to Vegas for the annual March Madness debauchery so I really want to hit this target weight before then.

By the way, the photo accompanying this post is not a photo of my torso. It's some stock photo I lifted from Google images. If it were a picture of me you can be assured, among other things, that I would have cropped the photo about an inch higher at the bottom.

Sunday Savings

2009-02-18T23:27:00.006-07:00

So, for reasons pertaining to my faith I choose not to engage in commercial activities on Sundays. Some people of my faith are much more hardcore than me. These people choose not to watch television or surf the internet on Sundays, for example. Others are less stringent in their observance than I am, participating in some recreational activities with family such as boating or going to the movies. Despite this range of practice habits, I rarely give it much thought and I'm quite comfortable with my level of observance.

And then every now and then something comes along to challenge my stick-to-it-ness.

The Flight of the Conchords are playing at Abravanel Hall on SUNDAY, May 17th. What? Is this the dumbest concert promoter of all time? Who schedules a band to play Salt Lake City on a Sunday?

Once, when I was a teenager, our next door neighbor offered my dad some Redskins vs. Cardinals football tickets that he couldn't use that weekend. I overheard my dad thank him, but tell him that we don't attend sporting events on Sundays.

When I was in college, one of my all-time favorite bands (Belly) was playing at a club in Tempe on a Sunday night. I stayed home. I never got a chance to see them live before they broke up.

Two weeks ago, in the culmination of a lifetime of waiting, my Arizona Cardinals played in the Super Bowl against incalculable odds. I didn't go to Tampa for the game (and I saved about $10k in ticket costs in the process).

I have to remind myself about these things.

To torture myself, I checked on ticket availability for the Flight of the Conchords show in SLC. Whoa! $250 and up per ticket for a show at Abravenel Hall? Hey, observing the Sabbath never felt so great! It's a Sunday Savings!

They are playing in Phoenix two days later on Tuesday, May 19 . . . anybody want to make a trip out of it? Please enjoy this excellent vignette to whet your appetite:

Peru: The Final Chapter

2009-02-13T19:51:00.028-07:00

Ending rampant speculation and weeks of anxious waiting for an update to this highly-trafficked blog, no, I didn't die in Peru. But I've almost been killed by my workload resultant from taking 10 days off, so I'm only now getting a chance to come up for air and post the remaining thrills, chills, and ills from the Peru 2009 Tour.

When my tale last left off, I'd been spotted kissing alpacas, sampling beef hearts from Peruvian street vendors, and running the Incan trail. This recklessness was about to catch up to me in a hurry.

By late afternoon we made it to Urubamba, a small city nestled in a spectacular Andean valley.

The city dates back to Incan times and its main attraction is an impressive set of ruins that were primarily used for worship by Incan priests and royalty. Although the Inca were very advanced in terms of astrology and math, they certainly didn't invent large SUV's - if the size of the city streets is any indicator:

The ruins were expansive, built straight into the side of the mountain with extensive terracing to create useable space. Credit the Inca for their hard work and genius in making sheer cliffs into inhabitable spaces, but take off a couple of points for their failure to figure out that building these massive structures on the flat ground at the valley floor would have been much easier.

This site, called Ollantaytambo, was constructed on a mountainside opposite a huge mountainside forming the other valley wall. After building their temple on the one mountainside, they carved an enormous face on the opposite valley wall, ostensibly a portrait of their ruler king. Not exactly Mount Rushmore, but pretty impressive still.

After visiting this site we retired to our hotel - a fantastic upscale place that had been converted from a hundreds-of-years-old monastery. Within about 10 minutes of sitting down for dinner in their restaurant, I was feeling nauseous and loopy. I scarcely made a dent in my fettucine carbonara (so you know something was definitely wrong) before heading straight back to the room. I had severe chills and my stomach was riding the Viper coaster at Magic Mountain. I took a steaming hot shower for about 40 minutes to fend off the chills, but spent the next hour or so planted firmly on the pot. Cali rounded up some bactrim and ibuprofen but by the time I took the pills I couldn't put a set of coherent thoughts together. I just remember thinking that it was a real bummer that I was going to die in the mountains of Peru just hours before making it to Macchu Pichu.

Sometime in the middle of the night I woke up completely covered in sweat, fever broken, with the restored ability to think straight. The medicine had kicked in and I was so happy to be free of the chills. Around 5:30 a.m. we got up and drove to the train station for the 90 minute ride to Macchu Pichu city. I felt okay and thought I was home free, but the train ride ahead had plenty of adventure in store for me.

I spent more than half of the 90 minute train ride sitting in the phone booth-sized lavatory in the back. I'll spare you the details, but suffice it to say that from the space and layout, to the mechanics of the toilet, to the availability of the supplies - this facility was not designed for "heavy use". I would have stayed in there the whole trip, but about an hour into it someone started knocking on the door. Then banging on the door. Then banging and saying something in some language I couldn't discern. At first I ignored it and then I shouted back "I'm IN HERE!" a few times, but every 3 minutes or so the knocking would begin again.

I finally decided to close up shop and head back to my train seat. When I came out of there, some Euro chick was lurking in a nearby seat, babbling about something (probably me) to her group of Eurotrash pals. I shot her the nastiest look I could conjure. I later saw her several times on the ruins at Macchu Pichu and I gave her a mean look each time.

Here's me back in my seat, trying to sit as still as possible while the train rumbled through the valleys towards Macchu Pichu.

We hit a local pharmacy in Macchu Pichu city and within minutes I was feeling great. Although I would spend the next 7 days making double digit visits to the restroom, from this point forward I felt great - just in time to visit one of the most breathtaking sites in the world.

Macchu Pichu is amazing. Again, I can't understand why the Inca decided to build their fortresses into the sheer sides of mountains. But they did, and the remains are stunning. Here are a few shots of this tremendous archeological site:

We spent about 6 hours touring these amazing ruins and then shopping/resting in Macchu Pichu town as we waited for the return train. By that evening we'd made it all the way back to Cusco, to the comforts of the Hotel El Puma again.

And then the sickness hit Cali like a bullet train hitting a brick wall. For about 24 hours she was totally knocked off her feet. Luckily the following day was Sunday, so she rested for most of the day trying to recover for the trip back to Lima on Monday. Here's a photo of her when she was finally able to sit up - we'll see how long she allows me to keep this picture up here.

Late Sunday afternoon I took my laptop down to the lobby of the Hotel El Puma (3 stars) to access their wireless signal. With the aid of some Slingbox magic, I watched the Eagles vs. Cardinals NFC Championship Game. As improbable as it seemed at the time, I had a quiet calm about me heading into this game. I believed the unthinkable - that the Arizona Cardinals could make it to the Super Bowl.

Three hours later, following some tense moments and, from the view of the hotel's front desk staff, random outbursts of me yelling at or cheering for my laptop, the Redbirds had done it! At the time the thing I wanted more than anything was to be with my dad, my sons, and my cousin Cannon to celebrate. Lifetimes of longsuffering were vanquished! I exchanged some treasured emails with my family back home - I know it's just football, but when you have suffered and languished with this team for as long as we have, spending tens of thousands of dollars and committing family vacations to follow the team during training camp year after year, the euphoria we felt after winning this game was tops.

The next morning we flew back to sea level at Lima. We spent the next several days touring around that cool city, checking out Cali's old school from her 3 years there in the late 80's, touring the old house they lived in at that time, visiting the Lima Temple, touring Doug and Connie's offices.

The school Cali attended was a private school for expatriate kids and the curriculum was very advanced. Some recently-completed schoolwork from the current students was on display, so I snapped this photo from one of the grade school classrooms. From the display header, I learned that this exercise was to identify items on the continuum of Impossible all the way to Very Likely. Under the "Likely" designation, the kid who drew the picture in the lower right corner is apparently a lover of pork.

During these couple of days in Lima we also took in a few movies and ate some delicious American food (Chilis, Dominos, and this funky hot dog combo platter I got at the cinema. Yes, those are mini french fries on top of the dog, next to the churro).

On our last day Doug arranged for us to take a city tour in a double-decker bus. We saw the cool attractions of the city, and luckily we had Doug and Connie to narrate for us because our "English-speaking" tour guide was struggling to put meaningful English words in sequence.

Two fun things about the bus tour: first, the double-decker bus was pretty tall and we sat in the open air seats on the roof. As we drove through the city, the low-hanging electrical wires crossing the streets were regularly passing within 1-2 feet of our heads, sometimes closer than that. Good times!

Second, the highlight of the tour was when we stopped at a 400-year old church in the "old city" area that was first settled by the invading imperialists. The church had lots of groovy architecture, furnishings, and artwork. The main chapel was huge; ornately decorated and beautifully constructed like a classic gothic cathedral in Europe. At the apse in the front, a Peruvian woman was kneeling in worship, singing to the crucifix. She sang beautifully and she didn't seem distracted by all of the tourists walking around her.

The best part of this church tour, however, was the tour of the catacombs. There were at least 3 sub-terranean levels. The floors of the catacombs were dirt and the walls were rudimentary adobe and stone constructions - totally unlike the beautiful finish work of the above-ground cathedral. The ceiling height in the catacombs was about 6 feet at the most and there were several passageways that required us to duck down to a height of 5 feet or so.

What were the catacombs used for? Burying dead patrons of the church, of course. Fair enough - I've been to Westminster Abbey, St. Paul's Cathedral, the Vatican, and dozens of other churches and cathedrals throughout Europe and Latin America. I've seen their vaults and crypts and mausoleums. Most are beautifully decorated in honor of the deceased located inside the tombs.

None that I've seen are just enormous pits of skulls and bones. And that's where the catacombs of this church were a little different than what I expected to see.

The tour guide said that there are about 20,000 people buried down there. Yeah, that looks about right.

This trip to Peru was fantasitc. Despite the stomach issues, we were on the go the entire time. Doug and Connie gave up their time to make sure we saw everything and had a great experience. I know Cali and Justin loved being back in Lima, reminiscing about the time they lived there 20 years ago.

I don't know if I'll make it back to Peru any time soon, so the chance to see Macchu Pichu and experience Lima was wonderful. Thanks to Doug and Connie for making it such a great trip!

More Peru

2009-01-18T17:06:00.033-07:00

Internet access here has been limited so I can't give my loyal readers the day-by-day rundown. But the action here has been fast and furious, so here's the latest:

On our second day we flew to the mountain city of Cusco. Lima is on the shores of the Pacific ocean and Cusco is 9000 feet in the Andes. I was really worried about getting altitude sickness but we all kept ourselves hydrated and experienced few side effects (climbing stairs, scaling ruins, etc. seem harder than they should but maybe that's because I'm out of shape to begin with). We just learned that we have to sit down and rest more often . . .

. . . which we can do at our leisure, because Doug "gave" Cali and me two of these nifty tripod chairs, and two more to Justin and Angelique, and told us that if we could sell them for 100 soles per chair then he would cover the cost of our food in Lima next week. If not, we'd get to cover the food for the group. Doug sells these chairs to whomever he can convince to buy them, after he buys them from a Peruvian man who makes them by hand. The man doesn't have any other work, so Doug's frequent chair purchases are feeding the man and his family. Here's Cali doing her best to sell a chair at the Lima airport:

We arrived in Cusco and checked into our hotel - the world famous El Puma Hotel. Don't be jealous just because we are chilling in a pad with 3 Stars and you are not.

After resting briefly at El Puma Hotel to acclimate to the altitude, we struck out on a tour of the greater Cusco area to view several excellent Incan ruins sites. Please enjoy these snapshots of the tour, including the bottom two which I took of the same (obviously European tourist) guy that I saw at two different sites. It took a few tries to get the second shot, and by that time I think he knew I was stalking him.

Recent archeological evidence now proves that the Incas were very much the ladies men that history has portrayed them to be. If you don't believe me, just check out the sign at the entrance of one of the sites. Sound it out . . . Wait for it . . . Yeah, that's right. I'm pretty sure this site was an ancient Incan gentlemen's club, but it may be years before we have enough additional archeological evidence to know for sure.

Finishing off the first day in Cusco, we ate in the city plaza at a restaurant called the Bagdad Cafe. Now, as a rule, I don't normally think of Iraqi food when I'm famished. Buzzards swarming the place typically don't add to the impression of high cuisine. But luckily this place served delicious local fare and as you can see from its sign below it was conveniently located very near to where we were standing. (According to some quick calculations on my iPhone, we were only 16.404199 feet away from our delicious meal).

A quick summary of the meal: Angelique had the lasagna. Several people ordered some variation of "lomo", which is sliced beef. Connie ordered a delightful pesto-basil ravioli dish (pictured below) and I, of course, ordered nachos. I took a great deal of criticism for that decision ("we are not in MEXICO! Order something Peruvian!"), but after sharing my nachos with the crowd it was agreed that my dish was the tastiest. The chips are actually large fried wontons and the guacamole was among the best I've ever had.

On our walk back to the hotel (the El Puma Hotel - 3 Stars, by the way), we did what any Peruvian would do: we stopped to sample some antecuchos from a street vendor. Doug ordered two skewers of the meat on a stick, topped with a potato, and I assumed that they were both the same. It turns out that the one I didn't try was regular beef, and the one I did try was beef heart. And guess what? Beef heart on a stick, from a street vendor, in a remote mountain town, in a third world country, is delicious! Really.

Day Three.

Having conquered Cusco, we made our way further into the Andean highlands for some more adventure. Along the way we stopped at a fantastic mountain overlook of the Sacred Valley, where I snapped these shots. The alpaca's name is Juan Carlos, I learned (at the cost of 1 Sol). Not a bad name for an alpaca.

We stopped at a local market where Doug bought this steamed corn, which featured huge kernels and tasted pretty good even without any seasoning. It reminded me of the hominy they use to make grits in the south.

We then arrived at a roadside depot of sorts featuring a walking tour to show us the art of creating woven goods from alpaca hair. We started with a brief history lesson about the alpaca species and their varieties found in Peru. We then toured various alpaca and llama pens where we got to feed these dromedaries by hand. Naturally daring, I decided to take it to the next level to see if I could feed them mouth to mouth. Was that a good idea, considering the many, many, many bacteriological consequences that could arise? No, as I would later discover. But it seemed like a good idea at the time.

After the alpacas are shorn, the skilled women of the Andes dye the wool and weave it into useful items of domesticity, all of which were for sale at astronomical prices in the gift shop at the end of the tour. I'm not sure how much this lady gets paid to weave for the tourists. Even the baby puts in an honest forty, but from the look on her face I don't think she's getting much of the rake.

We stopped in the small town of Pisac (pronounced "pee sack") to tour some excellent ruins and well-preserved terracing along the Incan trail. Way-stations like these were transfer points for cargo hauled between Incan cities, as well as handoff points for "chasqui" runners who transferred messages between government rulers. I joked that the current NBC lineup might be energized by a new cop drama starring an Incan character running messages between the bad guys and the cops. It could be called "Chasqui and Hutch". Nobody but me thought it was funny, but it didn't stop me from acting out the role by running the Incan trail myself - at 11,000 feet.

We made our way to Otallaytambo and checked in to a beautiful hotel that used to be a monastery. Unfortunately, at this point I suddenly got super sick - most likely a gift from the alpacas 6 hours earlier. I went from feeling fine to having a fever that had to have been over 100 degrees in about a half an hour. I didn't know if I'd be able to get out of bed the following morning to make the trip to Machu Picchu, but as you'll learn in my next post it takes a lot more than a severe, debilitating bacteria's assault on my whle body to keep me down.

More to come . . .

Peru - Day 1

2009-01-14T19:10:00.014-07:00

We traveled all day on the 12th, going from SLC to Dallas to Miami and finally landing in Lima, Peru at 5:00 a.m. on the 13th. We cleared immigration and customs with no hassle and got back to Doug and Connie's appartment by 6:00 a.m. We slept past noon and then hit the streets . . .

It's summer here in the southern hemisphere, so we weren't walking the streets for long before it was time for an ice cream break. Connie asked the nattily-attired vendor, "Tiene minis?" (which means, "Do you have the little ones?"). He did, and for $0.33 we enjoyed a delicious mini ice cream sandwich (or "aand wich", according to the label).

Things I enjoyed about this experience, apart from the delicious treat, were: the vendor's uniform (including matching cap), and the treat's slogan "Vive El Sabor Peruano" ("Live the Peruvian Flavor"). We're livin' it . . .

Quite non-ironically, the ice cream stop was just an snacking interlude on our journey to enjoy a more substantial snack. A short bus ride ride and a brief walk and we were being seated patio style at Senor Pepe's. Doug ordered three plates of "Picarones" and someone - possibly Pepe - began dunking a sweet potato batter into hot oil, pulling out piping hot rings that were a cross between a churro and a doughnut, but made out of sweet potatoes. They were drenched in a honey syrup and served hot. A winning combination no matter what country you're in.

Next we were off to the Peruvian Indian markets. We'll be spending the next four days high in the Andes mountains at Machu Pichu, but this Lima market was the place to find all of the indigenous wares in one location. We bought such authentic souvenirs of the Peruvian highlanders as t-shirts, a silver chain necklace, and this fantastic nativity set:

We had a small snafu at the market which resulted in me being separated from the rest of the group for about 20 minutes, just at the time when we were planning to leave. I looked for the group for a while with no luck, so then I just sat in the last place we had all been together and played RISK on my iphone. I beat the computer in the RISK game and eventually the group came back around looking for me. We all boarded the bus and headed for the Miraflores district.

The Lima I'm experiencing isn't much like the late-80's mission stories I've heard from the Earls. Apparently the city has modernized rapidly in the past 20 years, creating a sizeable middle class and adding an abundance of the trappings of western culture. The place seems like a snapshot of modern day Mexico City, with American fast food joints on every corner, huge upscale shopping malls, and big box stores and movie theaters. The Miraflores district seems quite affluent; it runs up to the seashore and is home to some beautiful hotels, high-rise apartments, and supporting high-end shopping and restaurants. At this point in our day the restaurants were calling my name and Doug had the perfect place in mind: Valentino's on the cliffs overlooking the ocean.

The food was tremendous. Connie had ravioli stuffed with squash. Angelique had ravioli filled with cheese and proscuitto covered in tomato pomodoro sauce. Justin and Cali both had the filet mignon topped with gorgonzola cheese and butter. Doug had a little bite of everyone's dish, and he picked up the tab. Good man.

I had a delicious duo; a combo plate of grilled scallops and tuna tataki in miso sauce, and a bowl of Peruvian cream corn soup with jumbo shrimp. The soup (pictured below) was so amazing that I sent the bowl around the table and made everyone have a slurp. I also enjoyed a delicous frozen pineapple drink (Cali's lemonade was tops though - wow).

More to come after we arrive in Cusco for the weekend. So far, Peru is greatly exceeding my expectations.

Joe-Zone and generation next

2009-01-05T19:11:00.006-07:00

A lot of you know that I have an extensive background in hip hop and street music. It comes from the experiences of my misspent youth; formative years running the streets, thugging it up more than I am proud of, learning life's lessons the hard way. It was a tough way to grow up, but lucky for me I turned those experiences into a positive, taking on the street dancing name "Joe-Zone" and developing a loyal worldwide following for my moves and my hip hop grooves. I don't need to go on and on about it; you know the story.

Now that I've been to the mountaintop, I want to give back by promoting other up-and-coming artists who are trying to make names for themselves. The duo featured below are fantastic; their pure artistry and passion for the craft are certain to lead to mainstream success in the future. They are The Hiphopopotamus and The Rhymenoceros. Please take a moment to enjoy.

In other news, the second season of Flight of the Conchords premieres on Sunday Jan. 18. I can't wait.

2008-12-22T17:07:00.014-07:00

Because it was the only right thing to do, I got the fellas together and we made the annual road trip to Las Vegas to watch BYU's annual appearance in the Las Vegas Bowl.

We've driven the I-15 route to Las Vegas dozens of times. Okay, hundreds.

And nearly every time, at least for the past several years, we've wondered out loud about the quality of the food at the Kan Kun MEXICAN FOOD restaurant located in Beaver, Utah.

The safe play for food in Beaver is, of course, Wendy's. But the large sign visible from the freeway reading MEXICAN FOOD, and the peculiar spelling of "Kan Kun", has piqued our collective interest on many occasions.

We were in no great hurry on Friday afternoon as we headed southward, but greatly hungered by the exertion of making the road trip at midday. When we saw the red sign from the freeway, we knew there was only one option: make an unprecedented stop for lunch at Kan Kun.

Making delicious mexican food is not rocket science, but there is also no shortage of places that serve bad mexican food. Rolling the dice on a freeway-side restaurant in Beaver is definitely on the risky side if you care about the quality of your rice and beans. So you can imagine how my anxiety was calmed as I noticed the restaurant's standard of care conspicuously posted at the entrance:

The menu featured standard mexican fare, combined in standard fashion to allow for platters with enchiladas, tacos, burritos, tostadas, and more. I was tempted to order nachos, but remembered my long-standing rule against paying $6-$8 for nachos when I can have chips and salsa for free.

I opted for the "El Medio" selection from among the Combination Platters. It was a cheese enchilada and a bean and cheese burrito, with accoutrements of rice and beans.

Overall the food was tasty. Not life-changing, but not poor. It's definitely average or better for mexican food, bordering on "worthwhile" if you're considering whether or not to stop in Beaver for a meal next time you're passing through. One word of caution: if you are traveling with Dave Matthews, add an extra 20 minutes to your trip time to allow for him to use the restroom following the meal.

On to Vegas, we arrived Friday evening and encountered about a two-hour wait before we could check in to our luxury suite at the Wynn. Let's be honest: we were staying in a 2,500 square foot suite decked out with the finest furnishings, 4 bathrooms, a separate massage room, etc. And we weren't paying a dime for it. So we didn't mind waiting.

After finally checking in, we made reservations at the Country Club restaurant inside the Wynn, home to the finest steak I've ever had. Don't ever pass up the chance to enjoy the rib chop at the Country Club. I'd also had scallops on my brain for about a week after seeing them featured on the Top Chef television program recently, so I took advantage of this menu item, described as:

Sea Scallops, Spaghetti Squash, Sage, Spiced Walnuts

This appetizer was so incredible that I ordered it again on Saturday night (along with the carpaccio of Kobe beef - also unbelievable).

So, there was a football game on Saturday night. Honestly, I trusted the Cougars to get their act together, generate some emotion and display some pride following the debacle in their last game, and put a win on the board. Excitement was high before the game as BYU fans packed our side of the stadium. We had pretty good seats, as evidenced by the fact that we were sitting two rows behind Lavell Edwards and his wife Patti.

But as has been the case since about mid-October, the Cougars didn't bring the full package to the field. At times they played with emotion and at times they executed well. But the inability to pressure the opponent's QB was obvious once again, allowing Arizona to put together sustained drives combined with occasional big plays.

In the end, the season is marked with an unimpressive effort resulting in a loss. We have 9 months ahead of us to analyze this year's shortfalls and hope that 2009 will really turn out to be the magical season we have been looking forward to for the past year and a half.

The drive home was safe and uneventful. I caught this photo from the car window, showing the rare snowfall that has blanketed the Nevada/Utah border area.

Merry Christmas to everyone. Is 2009 going to be your year?

Year of the Birds

2008-12-10T00:11:00.009-07:00

Now is the winter of our discontent

made glorious by this sun of [Whis...]

and all the clouds that low'r'd upon our house

in the deep bosom of the ocean buried.

I have to quote Shakespeare here because none other's words can do justice to the immense joy that swells within me. The Arizona Cardinals are going to the playoffs!

After a lifetime of suffering, sore trials, endless bumbling, prolific losing, and ridicule from fans of every other NFL team out there (even the Bengals have been to the Super Bowl (Twice! What?)), my Arizona Cardinals are going to the playoffs!

This may be one small step for man, but it is one giant leap for Cardinals fans everywhere. I have held season tickets for the past 11 years, despite the fact that I live out of state and only attend the occasional pre-season game or Saturday game every couple of years. I have spent an undisclosed amount of money on Cardinals jerseys, sweatshirts, training shorts, golf shirts, autographed footballs, authentic helmets, and other knick knacks. I have dragged my family on the 7-hour (each way) trip to Flagstaff each August to attend Cardinals Training Camp, where the highlight is seeing the players run around in practice gear at half speed. I once sent an angry letter to Rod Graves, Cardinals VP of Football Operations, asking why in the world the Cardinals were not pursuing free agent WR Marcus Robinson. I've brainwashed my children into believing that a major function of a healthy life is an unwavering devotion to Arizona Cardinals football. I may not be Father of the Year, but if there's an award for consistency in parenting then someone should take note of the speed and reliability with which my sons arrive home from church on Sundays and change into their Cardinals outfits in preparation for watching that week's game.

And it was all done in anticipation of this moment; a day that, at times, I feared might never come.

Our winter of discontent is now made glorious! It is the Year of the Birds!

The Sensei

2008-11-16T22:42:00.007-07:00

Tonight the Suns beat the Pistons, largely without the help of Shaquille O'Neal, who was ejected in the 2nd quarter after committing a Flagrant 2 foul. Shaq took umbrage with the call, and based on his years of scientific training, appears to have a viable argument in his own defense. He said:

"The laws of physics say that a body in motion stays in motion. So if you have two objects meet in the air, the smaller object is going to fall much harder. I've never been the type of player to take anybody out, so I obviously went to the ball. The little guy ran into a brick wall."

Internal inconsistencies aside, it's a good explanation. Why is everyone always picking on the Sensei?

One quick Shaq story (since that is the number of total Shaq stories I have): in February 2007 I was staying at the Wynn resort in Las Vegas during the NBA's All-Star Weekend. A large number of NBA players were also staying there that weekend (and, on a side note, a huge gang brawl broke out on the casino floor during the early morning hours on that Sunday. I heard the gunshots as I stood outside in a taxi line waiting for a ride to the airport. Yikes.)

Anyway, as I was walking through the VIP lobby area going back to my room on Saturday afternoon, who should appear from the elevators but Mr. Shaquille O'Neal. He was nattily attired in an enormous purple suit with a matching fedora-style hat. It was just me and Shaq - nobody else around. So I said, "Hey, Shaq" very nonchalantly and he replied, "Whazz up?" in a very deep voice.

That's it. My one encounter with Shaq. Judging from the details of Shaq's on-court fracas tonight, I'd say my encounter with the Big Fella went much better than Rodney Stuckey's.

Eating Jell-O in China

2008-11-06T21:57:00.003-07:00

I have always wielded chopsticks poorly. During our recent trip to Shanghai, I made a valiant effort to use chopsticks whenever the circumstances dictated. I fared better than I have in the past, but on frequent occasions I reverted back to using those wonders of Western technology, the spoon and the fork.

When I found this video on YouTube, I was relieved to know that even Chinese babies have struggled using chopsticks since, by my best estimate to date this commercial, the early 1960's.

Speech by Professor Robert P. George

2008-10-29T12:54:00.005-07:00

Here's a link to an excellent speech given Oct. 28, 2008 at Brigham Young University by Professor Robert P. George. Dr. George is a Professor of Jurisprudence at Princeton University. He has a doctorate degree in Philosophy from Oxford University and a JD from Harvard. You can view his professional short bio at the Princeton.edu website here.

In view of the monumental vote on Proposition 8 in California next week, you may find his speech from yesterday's BYU Forum to be fascinating and informative.

Shanghai 4

2008-10-20T06:11:00.027-06:00

Last post from China. Today was our last day to see as much of this city as possible before embarking on a 28-hour odyssey back home. Yikes.

We took a taxi down to Old Town, which features classic Chinese-style buildings that may or may not be hundreds of years old. One thing is for sure: they attract loads of European tourists who must have woken up early to get there, thus not having time to bathe first.

Here's Cali outside the main entrance.

I snapped a few shots of the Old Town environs before we headed inside.

To properly appreciate this impressive relic of old China, a visitor should spend hours shopping in the various shops throughout the area. If possible, one should sample local cuisine such as the Oreo Blizzard that Cali had (Starbucks coffee and McDonalds were also available for purchase by tourists). But most importantly, one should scour the shops to find just the right authentic Chinese artifact and buy it as a souvenir. Such an item will help you remember the trip to China forever. I came across two such pieces of Chinese art and I could not decide which one would give me the most authentic memories of this land. Luckily, the two were sitting side by side in an artisan's stall, so I photographed them together. I'm interested to know which one you would have chosen.

(*Side note. This stone engraving of Brittney and kids is the funniest thing to hit the interweb since Aaron's post of the A-Ha/Pipe Wrench Fight video. If I do say so myself).

Next we paid 40 yuan each to enter the Yuyuan Gardens. Apart from shopping, this appeared to be the only thing to do in Old Town and it turns out it was actually worth the money.

The Yuyuan Gardens are 2 hectares of impressive rockwork, water features, and Chinese buildings that are hundreds of years old. The rockwork is so incredible that it seems like a natural wonder. But even more wonderous is the fact that the formations are not natural. They were constructed by famous rockwork architects over the course of decades at the commission of the royal families who occupied the land.

Here's a sample. Most of the good photos are on our real camera so this iPhone version is the only one you'll get from me.

I am always goofing around, it seems. In the photo below, I noticed a hole in a rock that was roughly the size of my face and I put my head right in there. These are good times.

A great feature of many asian gardens, including the massive Yuyuan Gardens, is the pedi-friendly mosaic walks. These artistic walkways are meant to be traversed barefoot. The stones are smooth but raised so as to massage the feet and generally cause good foot health. Here are a couple of shots from today (with shoes on, I'm afraid).

Oh, one interesting fact about these mosaic walkways before moving on: a group of senior-aged Euros were sitting around near a pond listening to their tour guide. We were walking past, and out of nowhere an old guy stood up and projectile vomited all over the mosaic walkway. He sat down as if baffled by his own action, then stood up and puked violently on the walkway again. His wife, in a strange lack of sympathy for what must have been ailing him, just starting yelling at him and pointing to the pond, where she would have preferred that he had puked, presumably.

Cali got sick immediately and it was a good 60 seconds before she could resume eating her Oreo Blizzard.

Away from the puker, we sat in a lovely gazebo overlooking another pond, this one filled with koi. A group of French tourists passed us by (I could tell they were French because their tour guide was speaking French and also one of the guys was wearing solid red pants).

Now I should preface my next comment by saying that I am not cultured in the ways of French fashion. I understand that the French are often on the cutting edge of style, and I can give them credit for that. Even so, I couldn't make sense of the following outfit worn by a woman in the French troupe:

We finished the day with some more shopping in the Old Town area. Cali posed for a photo with this lovely elephant statue:

and then we stumbled on to a real bargain shop in an alley where we were the only white people. CNY 2 is less than $0.30, so this place was like a Dollar Store in the U.S, but for a quarter instead of a buck.

We finished the day by returning to the cavernous underground shopping area by the metro station. I picked up a few more dress shirts at the price I had bargained for a couple of days earlier (the sales girl was none to happy about it) and then we bought more Crocs for the kids and a pair of leather DC Shoes for Cortney (featuring a raised white fur tiger on the side of the shoe - I hope he likes it). I posed for this picture with Ping-Ping, our helpful sales attendant.

The trip was great. I think the business contacts I made are going to lead to some worthwhile relationships, and Cali and I had lots of fun. The 28 hours of travel coming home...not so fun.

Zai Jian, Shanghai.

Shanghai 3

2008-10-19T20:29:00.029-06:00

Cali has a list of things we should try to see while we're here. Yesterday we took a shot at clearing off some major items on the list.

I started the day with a hearty breakfast of pork dumplings, wok-fried peas with ham, and bacon. And a bowl of Trix.

First stop on Cali's list was the famous Shanghai Museum. We figured it would cost $10 or so, but it turns out it is free. We waited on queue for about 20 minutes but once inside it wasn't very crowded at all. Here's Cali outside the museum with the cityscape behind her.

After a while, Cali and I agreed that if you've seen one ancient Chinese artifact, you've seen them all. For those of you who never get a chance to stroll through this beautiful museum, here's a sampling of the more interesting fare.

An assortment of decorative and ceremonial masks...

Here's a sweet jade hunting blade with a decorative copper handle.

Here's a jolly old fellow playing horn while sitting on top of a dragon dog, it seems.

Here's a bronze wine vessel in the shape of a cow, I'd say. Could be a rabbit though. Hard to know for sure.

Here's a gnarly blade from a battle axe. It's made of jade and is about the size of a CD case. It would probably hurt a lot if you got skulled by an ancient Chinese warrior wielding this bad boy.

One interesting thing about the displays was that about 1 in 10 had this little character next to the item's descriptive placard. He appears to be the museum's mascot, maybe. We couldn't figure out why he appeared with some displays but not others. We also couldn't figure out why he was wearing only underpants and covering his privates with one hand.

After the museum, we came back to the hotel and took a 3 hour nap. Ahhh. Then we caught a taxi across town to the Dolomite Theater for a performance by the New Shanghai Acrobats performing company. Wow, it was awesome. It was a series of different performing acts ranging from dance to acrobatics to magic to stuntmaking. One routine involved about 12 girls who danced around for 10 minutes while spinning plates on the ends of sticks - four sticks and four plates in each hand (8 total sticks/plates per girl). In my view, this part was clearly rigged with special stick-plate attachments that kept the plates spinning and kept them from falling. But Cali insists that it was all real. This is now a sore debate and we have agreed not to talk about that particular feature of the show any more.

The finale involved a motorcyclist entering the large steel sphere to drive his motorcycle in loop-de-loops. It was pretty sweet. Then another cyclist entered, then another, then another, and then another. Holy Chinese moly. Five dudes on motorcylces circling around that sphere at breakneck speeds. I seriously thought there was going to be blood and carnage everywhere. But apparently it wasn't their first time trying it out because nobody crashed.

They didn't allow any photography during the show, but I did manage to get this blurry shot of the green cyclist while he was hawking show DVD's afterwards.

After the show we returned to the famous Nanjing Road for some nighttime shopping and sightseeing. The whole street is illuminated in lights at night, creating a scene that is akin to the Las Vegas Strip combined with downtown London. It was beautiful.

We popped into a few markets to view the local delicacies (ok, Cali had to leave this one and go outside because she said she was going to barf)...

then we saw this shaman playing his magical flute...

before heading to Pizza Hut to continue our tradition of having one normal meal during each trip to China. Although, I must say, we were sorely tempted to order some of the menu items with a heavy Chinese influence before ultimately settling for the large Pepperoni.

(Yes, that's cheese-filled crust pockets topped with raisins, with a set of toppings including green beans, corn, pineapple, ham, pepperoni, and shrimp. In other words, the contents of a baby's diaper).

(And not to be outdone, the classic sausage-balls crust with green beans, pineapple and ham.)

I opted for a delicious Black Angel drink with my pizza. It was a scoop of chocolate ice cream with whipping cream submerged in a glass of Pepsi. Kind of a chocolate-cola thing. Pretty good.

Now we're off for our last day of sightseeing and shopping. Gotta motor through the rest of the list...

Shanghai 2

2008-10-19T08:13:00.028-06:00

The good times keep rolling here in Shanghai.

Our hotel is near the complex of arts buildings that will be the epicenter of the Expo 2010 in Shanghai. The architechture throughout the city is incredible and this new complex of buildings is very groovy.

Everywhere we walk, we city older men and women sweeping the streets. I'm thinking that the government provides these maintenance positions to people who are past their prime in the workplace. The intersting thing is that they all use these homemade brooms; just dried branches and weeds bound together with string.

We shopped in a labyrinth underground marketplace near the metro station that services the Expo center. Cali wasn't much for the intense haggling, and the lack of air conditioning in that underground market didn't help any.

After shopping, we walked through the gardens outside the Science and Technology Museum, then took a taxi across town to the major downtown area of Shanghai. The views of the city from the bridge were spectacular.

Along the riverwalk in the Bund area, we observed several impressive statues. I enjoyed this one of the strong man battling what must have been a fierce wind as he tried to keep hold of his fabric...

and this one of a distinguished Chinese man who probably holds some significant place in local history.

Passing into the Nanjing shopping area, I chose not to donate to these statuesque ladies who were begging for money. They just seemed so stonefaced.

As this building-sized poster attests, the Chinese folks love the NBA. At least half a dozen times, friendly Chinese persons would stop us on the street to start conversations (seemingly to practice their English). Upon learning that we are from Utah, they invariably commented on the Utah Jazz. Of course I let them know that I am a Suns fan, not a Jazz fan, but this distinction may have been lost on them.

For those of you scoring at home, the correct answers below (from right to left in the style of the Chinese) are: Duncan, Arenas, McGrady, Howard, Garnett, Billups.

The Nanjing Road area is lovely. After walking for a while, we stopped for about a half hour to do some quality people-watching. If you look closely at the second picture below, you might just be able to make out the shape of a tree (despite its most excellent effort at camouflage).

Here's a photo of a shoe shop specializing in an American brand that seems vaguely familiar.

When we got off the beaten path, I stopped for a photo of this parking lot make excellent use of its limited space.

Then we stopped into a convenience store for locals. We were stocking up on Snickers, and despite being sorely tempted by the pot of boiled eggs soaking in some murky brown water next to the cash register...

we opted not to purchase a bag for ourselves.

Further along the way we passed a local eatery and noticed this table top covered with mushrooms. Not sure why the mushrooms were airing out on a table in front of the diner, along the walking path of the public, but who am I to question the time-tested methods of Chinese restauranteurs?

Everyone is feeling the pinch of high gas prices these days. Energy efficient vehicles are gaining popularity in America, but I've yet to find the motor scooter that gets "forever" miles per liter of gas. But that's what this scooter purports to do.

Finishing up our walk, we passed by this vendor selling delicious looking pigs feet stewing in some broth..

and then, across the street, I noticed this bin of live catfish splashing around in front of a catfish restaurant. Makes sense.

We're having a great time. More to come tomorrow.

Shanghai

2008-10-17T03:35:00.010-06:00

I had good intentions to blog about the trip to Beijing in April but it didn't happen. So I'm making good by posting "on location" during this trip to Shanghai.

Getting here seemed like a lot more than "half the battle". We left home on Tuesday morning and didn't arrive at our hotel in Shanghai until 37 days later. Or that's what it felt like, anyway.

We had a stopover at Narita airport in Tokyo, which means I can now say that I've been to Japan. I couldn't find any Calpis water, as recommended by Derek, but we did have a fine airport meal while we waited for the flight to Shanghai. Notice the delicious tempura shrimp in this steaming bowl of udon noodles.

We had to clear security in Tokyo even though were were just on a layover. Japanese security officials don't quite have the same menacing veneer as the common U.S. TSA workers. But they do have cute hats. (Note: photo is blurry because I was trying to take it while avoiding being apprehended for some breach of far-eastern security protocol. She actually gave me the "no-no" finger wave when she saw what I was doing, but I just smiled and mumbled something in English about her hat, throwing me off of my intent to use the phrase "tune in Tokyo" while clearing security. Maybe I'll get the chance on our return layover.)

One of my favorite things to do in foreign countries is photograph the food. It is always so interesting to document the kinds of things that other people eat. Here, we have an excellent photo that disproves my long-held belief that any food item on a stick is delicious. I found this specimen lying in a Shanghai street, which is exactly where I would have left it if I were faced with the prospect of having to eat it. You are welcome to venture you best guesses as to what any of these items-on-a-stick really are.

Later on our walk to the park, I noticed an abandoned watermelon in the bushes. No big deal. Just an abandoned watermelon in the bushes. (If you are a loyal reader of this blog, you are probably wondering if I ate the watermelon or not. Answer: I'm keeping it an ancient Chinese secret.)

Out hotel is beautiful and offers all of the expected amenities. Our stay includes breakfast and dinner buffets, which means we can sample the exotic fare limitlessly. Here you'll see my photo of the "meat bin", as I've named it. Procedure: select a piece of meat, put it on a plate, hand it to the chef, and he cooks it right up. Please notice the lamb shanks at the far end of the bin. They are delightful. Not as good: any of the fish. (I got in trouble from Cali for just picking one up.)

There's no better way to end a first day in China than enjoying a fine dessert sampler. I am most fond of the tiny flans. Or flan. I don't know what the plural of flan is. But I had a plurality of helpings!

thank you, golf gods

2008-10-06T13:37:00.002-06:00

Last week, during what in all likelihood was the last round of golf I'll ever play at Riverside Country Club, I shot a 71. I didn't even keep the scorecard, like I have done with other meaningful scorecards showcasing premier courses I've played or milestone scores I've achieved. I just shot my 71 and walked away.

Beautiful poetic justice.

Tuesday Musings (and Mid-October Updates)

2008-09-30T22:32:00.007-06:00

Here are a couple of things to put in your hat:

1. This is not the end of days. This is a necessary market correction. The fact that it is brought about by inorganic means is not a signal that the sky is falling. Even so, it would be reckless at this point not to get yourself fully prepared for a spartan lifestyle in the near term.

MID-OCTOBER UPDATE: Ok, so maybe it is the end of the world. And we still have no toilet paper in our 2-year food storage supply. That could get ugly.

2. Yeah, I'm not afraid to say it: BYU will play for the national championship. And they just might win.

MID-OCTOBER UPDATE: Now we're just hoping for a shot at the Las Vegas Bowl. Can anyone say "BYU vs. UCLA, Part IV?"

3. On the final day of the fantasy baseball season, with a full six months ahead of me before the 2009 season starts, I actually found myself lying in my bed thinking about who I am planning to draft next year.

MID-OCTOBER UPDATE: The Red Sox just staved off elimination by coming back from a 7-0 deficit in the 7th inning to win Game 5, 8-7. Could this be another miracle comeback from being down 3-1? That's "fantasy baseball" at its best! (Side note: Beckett better sack up for once and do his thing in Game 6. The 2007 playoffs honeymoon is over.)

4. I am not happy about the lack of golf in my life this year. My handicap hasn't taken a major hit, but I'm still not pleased about how infrequently I've been able to play. I need to get my priorities straightened out because this work stuff is really beginning to cut into my free time.

MID-OCTOBER UPDATE: There are 50 Riverside members on the list ahead of me who want to sell their memberships. So for the time being, it looks like I'm going to be a member for a while. Just in time for winter...

5. When it's time to change, you've got to rearrange. Move your heart to what it's gonna be.

MID-OCTOBER UPDATE: The more things change, the more they stay the same.

And so it begins...

2008-08-28T22:59:00.010-06:00

Those of you who know me may be aware that I dabble in fantasy sports from time to time. And by "time to time", I mean 365 days a year - usually multiple hours per day. Fantasy sports make a person do crazy things, such as check one's team several times during sacrament meeting on one's iPhone, root for certain Yankees' players to do well (Jeter was 3-4 today, thank you very much), and have an unhealthy interest in the goings on of random Bucks vs. Rockets games, etc.

And beginning tonight, I have officially passed down this "hobby" to my sons. Along with my cousin Hank and his boys, we formed the inaugural cousins fantasy football league - called the "Cardinal Crazies" - and we held our first draft tonight. The league is comprised of 8 elementary school age (and younger) cousins and a couple of dads. It's the first step forward in a lifetime of "pretend baseball" (as my wife calls it) and other sports.

There were some fantastic highlights from tonight's draft, as the rookie and youth elements of the drafters made for some "great" picks. (Caution, the rest of this paragraph will likely have no meaning to most of you, seeing as how you most likely think "fantasy football" involves wizards and a 12-sided dice). For example, both the Giants and Chargers Defenses were selected in the 8th round (of a 14 round draft). Uncommon, to say the least. Kurt Warner, an uncertain starter at best, went in the 6th round (ahead of guys like Matt Hasselbeck, Donovan McNabb, Marvin Harrison, Hines Ward, and Rudi Johnson).

Things got even more exciting in the late rounds, where guys like former ASU star Derek Hagan (12th round), Cardinals Defense (12th round), Leonard Pope (13th round), Tim Hightower (14th round), and John Beck (14th round) were selected. I'm sure all of those players' moms are proud that their sons were selected in at least one fantasy draft.

It will be fun teaching the boys the art of the game. The picture above shows Tyson's team - click on it for a full-size view.

And so it begins...

God, country, family, redbirds

2008-08-19T21:37:00.006-06:00

These are the good times.

The boys at Cardinals camp.

The dads at Cardinals camp.

Our crew with Coach Whisenhunt. Thanks Coach!

Go Birds!

Even Steven

2008-08-15T14:16:00.002-06:00

It should be noted, to properly record the events of history, that I have shot even par 72 each of the last two rounds of golf that I've played.

I don't shoot even par that often, but I might keep doing it if the nickname awarded to me by my cousin sticks. He now calls me "Even Steven".

(As a side note, the British refer to "even" par as "level" par. So if I were British, the likelihood is that my nickname would be "Level Neville".)

I eat other peoples' nachos

2008-07-25T23:10:00.008-06:00

Hey, let's just be honest here: we all have our faults. Some people are racist. Some people disrespect the opposite sex. Some people lie, and cheat, and steal. Some people have compulsive habits that control their lives.

Me? I eat other peoples' nachos.

It started when I was a kid. Grace, Idaho county fair. Rodeo time. For some inexplicable reason, someone dropped a yet-unfinished cardboard carton of nachos from the bleachers onto the ground below. I was about 6 years old, so naturally I was underneath the bleachers goofing around instead of watching the rodeo. I happened upon the nachos and did what seemed totally normal to me: spread the cheese sauce onto the hamburger that my uncle had bought for me (over my protests in preference of getting a CHEESEburger).

If you're one who eats other peoples' nachos, there are abundant opportunities to ply your craft. Junior high was a shangri-la of not-my-nachos eating. Seriously, it felt like my civic duty. It was the mid-80's, "there [were] people dying, and it [was] time to lend a hand", but kids were still leaving their partially-eaten nachos all over the cafeteria at the end of lunch. It was a no brainer: I honored the starving children of the world by eating the nachos.

A particularly memorable nachos-capade occurred at Jack Murphy Stadium in San Diego. Days before I got married, a couple of cousins and I took a road trip to San Diego to have some fun. At a Padres game one night, I watched a barely-touched tray of nachos sit on an armrest three rows in front of me - totally abandoned by their owner. Inning after painstaking inning the nachos sat there. What kind of respect is that to show a serving of nachos? None, and I for one was offended. So during the 7th-inning stretch I ambled down a few rows, nonchalantly picked up the orphaned dish, and returned to my seat. The cheese was cold and had that darkish film across the top layer but it didn't deter me one bit. They were some of the best free nachos I've ever had, if for nothing more than the feeling of rescue and closure I brought to the situation. My cousins still mention this incident fairly regularly.

Which brings me to tonight.

Eating other peoples' nachos might seem like something that a person would grow out of. You may consider it to be limited to childhood, or misguided adolescence, or at the most young adulthood when wild oats are sown.

Not with me. No ma'am. I proved tonight that a mid-30's, married with 4 kids, grown professional man can still eat other peoples' nachos. No doubt about it.

We're at Fat Cats, mid-way through our first game of bowling, when I notice that the group of college kids on the adjacent lane have put the plastic lid back onto their large order of chips with queso. Strange, I thought, that more than half of the order remained and yet the lid was back on. Surely they were only attempting to keep the cheese warm while they bowled.

Several frames passed. My own bowling score wobbled as my ability to concentrate waned. I wanted to focus on the pins, but I could only think about the chips. And the cheese. And the chips together with the cheese.

The group finished their game and began putting on their street shoes. I made my first public declaration. "If those guys leave those nachos there, I'm eating them." I had to plant the seed in our group's mind so as to avoid a counter-offensive from my own ranks when I made my move. They guffawed and made comments of disdain. They didn't believe me, but I knew what had to be done.

See, the key to eating other peoples' nachos is making sure that the nachos have been officially abandoned. A plate of nachos has a very long shelf life, so it's not unreasonable to think that an owner could put his nachos down and then come back for them much later. I would do it, if I had accidentally left my nachos behind.

So I didn't strike immediately after the group left their lane. I waited and watched. I saw them head towards the front doors and then out. I waited some more, but timing was critical because a new group could arrive at the adjacent lane at any time and clear the table, throwing the nachos in the trash.

I made my move during the second frame our our second game. It was a bold movement, straight for the container and straight back to my seat. I didn't ask for permission or for forgiveness. I simply removed the plastic lid, dipped a chip into the room-temperature cheese sauce in the cup, and savored it all.

Our friends on this outing - we'll call them the "Parks" - didn't say much. It was a polite avoidance, like the kind you employ when another couple gets in an argument in your company, or when someone else passes gas in a social setting. "Ignore it. Don't make a scene." I'm sure that's what they were thinking.

Well guess what? I ate the entire remains of that order of nachos and it was darn good. All of the cheese sauce was in a cup, so none of the chips had become soggy from direct prolonged exposure to it. The chips were crispy. The sauce was delightful. It was like a nice gaspacho, but instead of tomatoes it was just cheese. Delicious, cold, free cheese accompanied by a helping of delightful chips.

That's right. I ate other peoples' nachos tonight. And I'll do it again if you leave yours lying around.

Starter for 10

2008-07-14T16:12:00.005-06:00

I've become keen on the use of the word "nice" to describe things that are remarkable in a good way, but not necessarily "nice" in the traditional sense of that word. I came onto this habit after a trip to the Netherlands last year during which a business associate continually referred to food that tasted "nice". But not just "nice". More like, surprisingly delicious or startlingly good; better than expected. It doesn't modify an adjective; it is the adjective. A richer-than-expected cup of hot chocolate is not "nicely seasoned"; it is "nice". A perfectly-prepared tenderloin of beef is not "nicely cooked"; it is "nice".

But my version of "nice" isn't just for food. Now it's "nice" for anything that is surprisingly good or exceedingly pleasant. I think I'm drawn to the use of "nice" in this context because of the way it actually understates the goodness of the item being described, while also not fitting squarely with normal usage of the word. It's almost an ironic usage, but not fully ironic, because I'm genuinely remarking about the quality or pleasure of the item being described. (It's left up to you, the viewers, to debate whether there can exist varying degrees of irony. For example, the statement of a nun to her doctor of, "Well, how pregnant am I?" could be debated endlessly.)

Which brings me to the point of this entry. Last night I watched a nice moved called Starter for 10. I say it's nice, and it warrants an entry on this blog, for the following reasons:

1. It succeeds as an '80's period film. Not an easy task.

2. It succeeds as a John Hughes-esque character piece that feels exceptionally authentic despite overplaying several cliches and generalities.

3. The acting and script were just good enough to be engaging, but just bad enough to create a believability and a humanness in the characters. The actors say the kinds of things that you or I would say, if we weren't reciting a movie script.

4. It's the music of my formative years. The soundtrack enhances the movie as if it were Michael Johnson's golden shoes.

This movie won't change your life. But it will remind you of when your life was changed, and where, and why, and how.

You should see this movie. It's nice.

Tilly

2008-07-05T13:35:00.010-06:00

Shane and I saw Tilly and the Wall in concert on Wednesday night at Kilby Court in Salt Lake City. What a fantastic experience. They're touring in support of their new album right now ("o"). Don't miss the chance to see them live if you can - the stage show is brilliant. They'll be back in SLC on Sept. 15 and I'll definitely be there to see them again.

Here's a post-concert photo of me with Neely Jenkins, one of the two lead singers.

Neely also plays bass guitar and is one of the three band members who perform percussion by tap dancing on elevated wooden platforms during the songs. She's fun to watch on stage because she's constantly smiling just like this, which has the effect of making the music more inviting and ultimately more intimate. The band as a whole do a wonderful job of avoiding the anguished performer persona on stage, which, while mystifying and interesting for lots of stage acts, does tend to create a barrier between performer and listener. Tilly and the Wall seem so accessible and that makes the music more poignant, or just more fun, depending on the song.

Thoughts from the show:

1. I'm old. Most of the "scene" kids there were Shane and me circa 12-15 years ago. Still, there's a part of me that still "gets it" and probably always will. Whatever punk is, it's in the heart.

2. Kilby Court is a brilliant venue. The place can't be more than 600 square feet and that includes the stage space that the bands occupy. The ceilings are old wooden beams layered with a tin roof and the walls are cinder block and corrugated tin. The band entrance is a dilapidated wooden single garage door. Imagine seeing a band perform live in your living room, if your living room had concrete floors, cinder block walls, and could barely pass muster with the city inspector.

3. Tilly and the Wall are so refreshing. Obviously Kianna Alarid is part of that equation.

She and Neely command the stage brilliantly. Their co-vocals have a richness at times and a purity at others; the band is alternatively playful and pensive. Check out "Falling Without Knowing" from my Playlist for an example. This song has a groovy Blondie-esque sound to it; not typical of all of their stuff but quite nice here.

Because the stage (and the whole room) at Kilby Court are microscopic, lead tap-dancer Jamie Pressnall had to put her wooden tap platform in the very back of the stage where the drummers probably sit for most shows. She wasn't miked for vocals so she spent the whole show tapping her heart out in the back. Great job, Jamie!

Two more things about the band: Nick White had two keyboards set up across an aisle from each other and at times was playing both of them at the same time, one hand on each. Very nice.

Also, there's a dude playing guitar on this tour who is not an official band member - I can't seem to find out who he is - but this juice man looks exactly like Adam Morrison of Gonzaga basketball fame, only 8 inches shorter. Seriously, this guy could easily be riding the pine for the Charlotte Bobcats if he wasn't playing backing guitar for Tilly right now.

Compare this photo of the mysterious Adam Morrison impersonator (in background)

with this photo of the biggest bust in the history of #3 overall NBA draft picks:

All in all it was a great show. Get on the Tilly and the Wall bandwagon if you aren't already.

Garlic: why all the hating?

2008-06-27T11:00:00.005-06:00

I don't understand why garlic gets such a bad rap. Following my post about favorite scents, several people mentioned garlic on their lists. I think the smell and taste of garlic is fantastic. I wish I could buy a tube of garlic toothpaste somewhere; that's how much I like it.

But people say it causes horrible breath. We can't really smell our own breath and tell if it's bad or not, at least not with very much accuracy, so how are we supposed to know when our garlic-ness offends? My wife doesn't dig it too much when I eat a lot of garlic, so I'll admit that there's some anecdotal evidence that it causes a "bad mouth" (but that should be appropriately discounted by the fact that she has the nose of a bloodhound. It's truly paranormal). Personally, I can't think of an instance when I noticed someone else's bad breath and thought that garlic was the culprit. And even if it does cause bad breath, isn't the great taste and smell of garlic worth a little bad breath afterwards? If you're worried about bad breath, mix in a mint and solve the whole problem. (Mmm, what if there were garlic-flavored mints!)

I want to start a garlic-lution. Don't be shy - join the ranks of the garlic-empowered. Start by ordering a heaping plate of Garlic French Fries from Gordon Biersch. I've had the pleasure of devouring these garlic beauties many times. The best I've ever had were at Pac-Bell Park in San Francisco during a Giants/D-backs game. I was swimming in garlic. The second best were not Gordon Biersch-branded, but they were still amazing. I got them at the rooftop grille in right field at Fenway Park. I overheard the people in the row behind me saying, "Is someone eating garlic?" Uh, yeah, you better believe someone was eating garlic. I was sweating garlic essence from my pores for days afterwards, but baby it was worth it!

Join the garlic-lution. Viva l'ail!

the best smell

2008-06-21T21:33:00.004-06:00

At game night tonight, the question arose: what is your favorite smell? Technically speaking, I think the question should have been "what is your favorite SCENT".

Tough to pick a favorite, so here are my top five:

5) hot garlic pepper chicken wings from the Wing Shak (they singe your nose hairs, in a good way)
4) gasoline
3) a freshly-opened bag of real red licorice (like Kookaburra, but definitely not like Twizzlers or Nibs)
2) lilac bushes in bloom
1) freshly-cut grass

I looked around to see if there are consensus answers on this question. Apparently, studies have shown that lavender and peppermint score the highest on tests for pleasant smells. Also among the most popular: vanilla, the ocean, bacon, roses, and pine.

I've also read that people who suffer from sensory deprivation of one or more of the other five sense tend to have a much stronger sense of smell. I wonder if their answers to this question would be different.

And your favorite scent?

2008-06-10T14:36:00.002-06:00

Let me tell you something my friend. Hope is a dangerous thing. Hope can drive a man insane.

2008-05-07T21:52:00.002-06:00

The thunder makes itself known;
it gets one's attention.
The rain rinses away years of accumulation.
The soul is clean, the ties are bound.

2008-03-15T00:37:00.002-07:00

There is only one conclusion to every story: we all fall down.

Things you find out 14 years later

2008-03-08T11:57:00.004-07:00

When you go away for two years you miss a lot of stuff, apparently. I was never too disappointed to have missed TLC's "Waterfall", for example. But I was disappointed to have missed "Reality Bites", which turned out to be only okay when I finally saw it, but it did have Winona Ryder and that was a huge plus.

But the strangest part about missing out on popular culture for two years is finding out about stuff years after it happened. Just this week, I learned two things I had never known before:

1. BYU won an NCAA tournament basketball game in 1993. They beat SMU 80-71 and then lost to Greg Ostertag and Kansas in the next round. The Cougars will change that in about two weeks, when they finally get back into the NCAA tournament win column. Count on it.

2. Jeff Buckley was a rising star that flamed out way too early. I had never heard of Jeff Buckley, but apparently he released an album, "Grace", that was critically acclaimed. I downloaded the album this week and I feel like I've discovered a hidden treasure.

It's an interesting find. The style is a mix of late 70's anthem rock and early 90's grunge, but with all of the delicate phrasing of folk music and coffee-shop fare. It is at times Geddy Lee, at times Joni Mitchell, with some Chris Cornell mixed in for good measure.

I found this quote from him:

"the only way to really make it ~ anywhere ~ is to put every bit of your being into the thing that only you can provide. the only angle is the art that you choose, that only you can provide. and to do that, you have to be quiet for a long time and find out what you bring forth. you have to know what's in youself~ all of your eccentricities, all your banalities, the full flavor of your woe and your joy. what does it look like? what makes it different from everybody else's? it's totally subjective. you're just given the task of bringing it up."

~ Jeff Buckley

From what I've learned this week, Buckley died in 1994 and "Grace" is the only full-length label release he ever had.

It's strange to find out these things fourteen years later. It makes me wonder about all of the other things I should know about, but haven't yet discovered.

Poor, pathetic Utes

2008-02-20T23:02:00.002-07:00

If you only remember one thing from today, remember this:

Luke Nevill looks exactly like Beeker from the Muppets.

the balance of the universe

2008-02-17T21:52:00.005-07:00

- I don't think the happiest people in the world are in Denmark.

- Tell me, please tell me, how I'm supposed to explain to a seven year-old the reason why Tiger Woods doesn't show up to play in two-thirds of the PGA tournaments each year.

- Almost everything in the world can be distilled down to being a zero-sum game.

- The grass almost always seems greener on the other side. Almost always, it is not.

My philosphy on all of it is that you take the good, you take the bad, you take them both, and there you have, the facts of life.

2008-02-09T22:55:00.000-07:00

A long time ago, at the intersection of Hermosa and Los Feliz, riding in a late 80's model Honda Accord, my dad told me that I'd be a great man someday.

Juno

2008-02-02T16:25:00.000-07:00

I saw Juno last night.

I can't remember feeling so pleased with a movie since I saw Garden State a few years ago.

This movie is beautiful and brilliant. It doesn't try to do too much, which could have easily been its downfall. It speaks to a generation which really isn't my own, granted, but it also transcends that generational focus powerfully. I'm really looking forward to a second viewing. On first impression, this is easily the best movie I've seen in a very long time.

a dilemma

2008-01-24T22:54:00.000-07:00

I don't know what to do.

I've been learning about the life, writings, and philosophies of Allen Ginsberg. I very much want to buy and read his epic poem, Howl.

But in the course of learning about Ginsberg's life, I've discovered that I probably won't agree with many of Ginsberg's views put forward in the poem. The literature, while valuable for its style and place in history, is likely to be an affront to my sensibilities.

I am probably going to read it.

How I Met Shane

2008-01-07T21:10:00.000-07:00

Shane and I have been friends for 13 years now. During the summer of '95 we painted the town red, hitting clubs, dating girls, and living the good life. That fall he came with me when I went back to school. We bought and operated the Sonic Garden CD store together and roomed together at Aaron's condo. Shane even managed our band, Honeysuck, which eventually led him to his illustrious career of managing other bands and promoting local music festivals.

We've stayed close friends throughout the 12 years that I've been married. He comes over weekly to watch TV at our house on Survivor Night. We have dinner parties and game nights together. And just recently, we completed a 12 day trip to Mexico where Shane joined all of us to celebrate Christmas.

Invariably, as people I know meet Shane, the question arises: "how did you meet Shane?" The answer usually invokes laughter and some scorn for a few minutes following. So once and for all, let me make something very clear:

There was a moment in history, albeit very brief, when rollerblading was not gay. And during that moment there was another precise moment in history, albeit even more brief than the previously-mentioned moment, when it was very much punk and very much not gay for a man to have a pierced navel.

At that very moment in time - a veritable snapshot of time - I happened to be at the roller blading park having a very manly blading session and I overheard a guy - turns out it was Shane - discussing his plans to get a pierced navel. And as chance would have it, I already had a pierced navel and I offered some insights to that effect, and the rest is history.

And that's how I met Shane.

It's like Christmas. And, Pubert

2007-12-11T21:55:00.001-07:00

I ordered three albums by Sondre Lerche the other day. I can't wait for them to arrive in the mail. It's going to be like Christmas!

[Side ephiphany]: being middle-aged with kids and already having everything you want means that the only things you get for Christmas are things you buy for yourself. It's a good thing, too, because authentic #9 John Beck Dolphins jerseys don't just show up in your closet by themselves.

Also, just now I just found an image of Lurch from The Addams Family that I'm using for this post, and in the process of finding the image I learned something quite fascinating. I learned that in the original Addams Family series it was concepted that Gomez and Morticia would have a third child - a baby with a moustache, no less - and that child would be named Pubert. Having learned that fact, I am at this very moment the happiest I have been in months (with the exception, of course, of the moment immediately following the 4th and 18 play).

Samurai I Amurai

2007-12-07T23:26:00.000-07:00

Here are a couple of friendly facts for those of you who are TV fans:

1. Tina Fey is a genius.

2. Tracy Morgan's character on 30 Rock is the single funniest character on TV right now.

Believe it, or my name's not Samurai I Amurai.

PRK results

2007-12-02T22:58:00.000-07:00

Well, the PRK ordeal is over with, mostly. Like the doctors said, there was a lot of pain and discomfort for the first three days. Saturday was day four and I felt pretty good. Today was day five and I'm totally pain free.

Immediately following the surgery I could see more clearly than I ever remember in my life. It was incredible. As my eyes healed, my vision got really blurry. I'm still seeing a lot of fuzziness, but I can tell a difference each day as my vision improves. The doctors say that it will take about three weeks for my vision to fully correct itself so I can see perfectly.

I'm not experiencing any other complications so I'm tentatively declaring the surgery a success. It was more painful than Lasik - and I missed three days of work due to the pain and loss of vision - so it's definitely not a low-impact surgery. But it does feel great to be free of contact lenses and glasses forever.

Long live the People's Republic of Keratotomy!

People's Republic of Keratotomy

2007-11-27T23:31:00.000-07:00

PRK. Tomorrow's the day. I've had these glasses on for exactly a month now. Surprisingly, several people have suggested that I keep them. Sorry to disappoint my fans, but these specs are going the way of the horse and buggy. First thing in the morning, I'm going under the knife.

Well, the laser, actually. It should only take about a minute to do each eye, but I'm told to expect 3-5 days of pain and discomfort. The main bummer about PRK is that one's vision takes several days to a month or longer to fully correct. So I'll start off seeing blurry and gradually gain better vision over the next couple of weeks.

If I never see you again, it's because I went blind during the procedure. I've thought a lot about it, and I've decided that I don't want to go blind. Going blind would be worse than continuing to wear these glasses. I think I probably won't go blind; that's why I'm going forward with the surgery.

So that's all for now. See you later, hopefully.

No Lasik For Me

2007-11-13T22:37:00.000-07:00

I've been wearing these Drew Carey glasses for over two weeks now, so you can imagine my dismay when I showed up at my Lasik surgery appointment today and learned that the doctor was recommending that I not have the surgery.

Apparently, despite having already completed two different pre-operative visits to perform testing and eye measurements, today was the day that I found out that my corneas are too thin to safely undertake the procedure.

I'm all for caution when it comes to shooting powerful lasers into one's eyes, but still it is disappointing to go away uncured. Especially when it turns out that my option is now to have PRK surgery instead.

PRK is basically a better surgery. No flaps have to be cut into the corneas, so thickness of the cornea isn't an issue. Long-term testing shows that PRK offers clearer, longer-lasting vision correction than even the best Lasik procedures (currently Intralase is the rage in the Lasik field). Fighter pilots are authorized to have PRK, but not Lasik.

The downside is that the recovery time is 3-5 days of intense pain and suffering. I will be covered head to toe in bandages. I will be on pain medication, and I won't be able to go to work (or help out around the house at all - drag).

Compared to the 3-5 hours of recovery time with typical Lasik surgery, the PRK gig doesn't sound very appealing. But I'm getting it in two weeks.

And I get to keep wearing the Drew Carey specs in the meantime.

And my vote goes to . . .

2007-11-06T21:59:00.000-07:00

Cheeth linked to a fantastic website from his blog - VAJoe.com. At this site you can rate your own political opinions across a wide array of issues, while also ranking the relative importance of those issues to you. The site tallies your totals and then compares them to the political stances of every Republican and Democrat running for president in 2008. It lists the "Top Match" candidates with whom your political leanings are most closely tied and also provides a ranking of the candidates all the way down to the bottom. It's a very useful exercise in determining which candidate you should support based on your own beliefs on the issues, rather than the campaigning that goes on in the media.

I was very glad, and a little relieved, to learn that the candidate who I have been leaning towards supporting turned out to be the candidate with whom my political views are most closely associated.

I got glasses yesterday.

2007-10-30T14:55:00.000-07:00

I'm getting Lasik surgery in two weeks, so I had to get a pair of eyeglasses to wear between now and then. I've never had a pair of glasses before, although I did borrow a pair from my mom for several months during my first year of law school.

So, most of my co-workers have not commented on my new glasses because they have been too busy laughing at me to verbalize a comment. Darren was able to stop laughing briefly, long enough to say "They're not THAT bad."

I've been called "Buddy Holly", "Rivers Cuomo", and "Nerd". But the best was from my wife. I was lying in bed last night watching TV when she turned to me and said, "You look like Drew Carey."

Should be an interesting two weeks.

forgotten but funny

2007-10-19T23:13:00.000-06:00

Q: How funny are waterbeds?

A: Super funny.

Separate book club blog

2007-10-17T13:45:00.000-06:00

Due to the underwhelming response I've received about my new book club idea, I've decided to take it in a slightly different direction. I've created a new blog called Captain Emus' Book Club Blog. I will run the new book club from that site - even if I'm the only one doing it.

That being said, I think you people need to buckle your britches and commit to be involved. How many minutes a day do you spend expanding your intellectual horizons? Books are the greatest form of art. You're not going to have to write book reports here. You just need to commit to an easy reading schedule, and be prepared to share your thoughts.

It's up to you - no pressure. Just be aware that if you don't participate, your brain is going to rot into mush.

My book club idea

2007-10-11T21:22:00.000-06:00

I had a great idea today as I was thinking about the book I'm currently reading, Thomas Hardy's Jude the Obscure. My idea is to run a book club through my blog. Here's why it's genius:

1. I get to pick the books.
2. I assign the reading schedule.
3. I get to post my observations and then let the dialogue flow from there.
4. Most importantly, I don't have to wait until I've finished the book before I can post my thoughts. There are so many important points that percolate in-reading, many of which are forgotten or lose their impact by the time I've finished the book weeks or months later. By posting the observations as I read them, piecemeal, I get the greatest benefit of reflection, and I get everyone else's as well.

Everyone is welcome to participate, but nobody is committed to do anything beyond what they want to.

This is going to be good.

I'm going to start with Jude the Obscure because I'm only 100 pages into it so anyone who wants to catch up can do it quickly. And I've been keeping some notes on my observations so far, so we have some discussion points already.

I'll wait 3-5 days to get a response from my vast readership before we get started. Post here if you are "in".

The golf-a-thon

2007-10-04T23:29:00.000-06:00

We played 15 rounds in 8 days. It was a fantastic trip to a beautiful island. Here's the photographic evidence:

Poipu Bay has been home to the Grand Slam of Golf - an end-of-year tournament where the winners of the four majors play against each other.

I took a lot of nature shots, both because there were a lot of beautiful nature scenes to be observed and because I didn't really have anyone at the ready to keep taking pictures of me all the time.

The views from #6 on the Prince Course at Princeville are simply spectacular.

And to top it off, I shot a 73 at Kauai Lagoons on the final day of the trip. Mahalo, Kauai!

And the best line of the day is . . .

2007-10-01T23:32:00.000-06:00

I was born with a mouse heart.

Kristen Wiig, SNL

3 great things about this weekend

2007-09-30T22:16:00.000-06:00

1. I dropped a 74 on Kyle's noggin on Friday. From the tips. Good enough for a 6-stroke victory and some serious bragging rights between now and the Mazatlan Open.

2. My lawn looked great for the weekend festivities.

3. Connie found me and gave me a hug.

Well, that was fun

2007-09-21T23:27:00.000-06:00

I'm leaving Kauai tonight. I shot a 73 at Kauai Lagoons this morning, which is a terrific way to end this golfscapade. This evening I went out into the ocean myself. I swam a ways out - just far enough to feel totally uncomfortable for having entered the ocean's complete domain - and then I swam back in and spent about 30 minutes bodysurfing.

It has been a great getaway. Next time, you can be sure that I'll be bringing the good wife to this island paradise.

Aloha.

"Good" Golf

2007-09-20T03:17:00.000-06:00

I'm trying to think of another hobby, no, obsession, that draws a person to it because it is so fun, rewarding, beautiful, and genteel yet when that person engages in it they constantly misbehave like a two-year old and lose their mind in anger like a psychotic serial killer.

Golf is the only one I can think of.

So you can imagine how rewarding it feels to actually play good golf, especially when you've traveled thousands of miles and spent some big dough to do it (as well as cashed in the immense amount of relationship capital necessary to get permission from the wife).

I've been ripping it on this trip, though the putting has been less than great. My scoring average is 81.27 through 11 rounds. Tomorrow is going to be rough; two rounds at Princeville will inevitably raise the scoring average a little bit. I'll get two more rounds in at Kauai Lagoons on Friday before I fly home, so hopefully I'll get into the 70's a few more times to keep the scoring average below 82. If I can play 15 rounds at an average under 82, I'll definitely feel like I played good golf on this trip.

Mon Cheri(e)

2007-09-17T02:53:00.000-06:00

A fantastically clever double entendre for the title of this post . . .

When I arrived in Kauai late Wednesday night, I posted on this blog. It was in the middle of the night, and what I wrote didn't come out the right way. It offended some people that I care a lot about, and even though the offense was purely unintentional, I feel badly that it happened. I deleted the blog post to avoid any more misunderstandings. The last thing I want is to have my loved ones being polarized and upset over something that was poorly communicated.

So now I'm in Kauai, enjoying the golf vacation of a lifetime with Dave and Jeff. This island is so incredibly beautiful and the golf is spectacular. On Saturday we played the Prince Course at Princeville - twice. I'm going to make a list of the most beautiful places in the world that I've seen in person. On that list somewhere will be the 6th hole at Princeville, which sits atop a lush jungle slope 130 feet above the bay. The waves are crashing on the beach below, and the sea extends forever. And I made par both times we played it on Saturday.

Church in Kauai is always fun. The local congregation presents each visitor with a "lei" that is crocheted from yarn. There is a little bit of island pentecostalism in the meetings, as the crowd enjoys greeting each speaker with an emphatic "aloha".

Tomorrow we'll play 36 holes at Poipu Bay, which features some amazing oceanside holes. I'll post a bunch of photos when I get back to the mainland. At some point I need to actually hit the beach and get in the ocean. So far it's been all golf, all the time, and it would be a shame to come all this way and not catch a few waves.

For those of you wondering, my wife is surviving at home with the kids while I'm golfing the days away in paradise. It's not exactly a sweet situation for her; I'm lucky to get the chance to enjoy a trip like this. I've got some ideas for how to begin making it up to her when I get back. "My dear", it could take a while.

The Balance of Generations

2007-09-04T23:00:00.000-06:00

We all navigate this life with an inborn moral compass; an innate balance that steadies against forces that push and pull. At whatever point in life we come to the realization that the balance comes from within, only then do we have the confidence to propel forward rather than be propelled.

All of this occurred to me this evening as I held the seat of Tyson's bike, then let go, watching as he propelled himself forward. His realization of his own balance wasn't immediate, but when it was fully understood there was a boy with a newborn sense of self.

My dad taught me to find that balance. Now I've taught my boy. Someday distant, he will teach a young boy the same thing. It is the balance of generations.

Animal Farm

2007-08-21T23:54:00.000-06:00

I believe that literature is the highest form of art. A picture may say a thousand words, but a good book has a lot more than a thousand words. I'm no mathematician, but the way I calculate it: advantage - books.

Anyway, for the past few months I've been collecting antique literature in earnest. I was very pleased to acquire a first edition of George Orwell's Animal Farm, published in 1946. Reading a volume that was printed near in time to the author's first introduction of the work to the public really adds something to the experience for me. The pages seem livelier; their age creates the sensation in my mind that the author is talking presently. Recently I added a first edition Grapes of Wrath and an early edition of Ulysses by James Joyce.

I don't want to come off as flippant or sacreligious here, but does anyone else agree that Orwell's message in Animal Farm seems trite? I definitely understand why it was an instant classic; it practically defines Cold War propagandist thinking. I appreciate Orwell's craft for distilling the politics down to the pedantic. I think I understand his purpose and his method. All of it seems like it would have been quite useful back in the day. And by back in the day, I guess I should say that it was useful as recently as the first time I read the book in the mid-80's. This isn't a criticism of what the book was when it was first published or what it became as the politics of the Cold War evolved. The setting was a fine vehicle for taking the message out of the polemic and presenting it in the objective (however fabricated).

But I just can't see how the message is useful today. I turned page after page and the thought just kept coming that the message lacks a timelessness that all great literature possesses. Apples fall from trees. The earth orbits around the sun. Communism is a flawed civic philosophy. All useful ideas in their own time. But now we're on to other things.

O soft embalmer of the still midnight

2007-08-16T12:43:00.000-06:00

Keats referred to sleep as the "soft embalmer of the still midnight" (To Sleep). Morrissey paid tribute to the poem in his own form of lullaby, singing "Sing me to sleep, sing me to sleep, I'm tired, and I, want to go to bed." (Sing Me To Sleep).

Both great English writers. Both understood what it means to be tired. Neither one traveled 25 straight hours from London to Lindon like I did yesterday.

A perfect verse for my tired bones: Carolina singing "rock-a-bizzle, don't you crizzle". Can't wait to see her tomorrow.

Sunday Musings

2007-08-05T21:08:00.000-06:00

Here are the things that are on my mind today:

1. A just-turned two-year old shouldn't know how to use the phrase "booty butt" in context. But if she does, it's pretty funny.

2. A nine month old with layers of fat rolls on her legs is exceedingly cute.

3. I'm pretty happy about shooting 71 at the golf course on Thursday. It was my second round under par ever. Both were scores of 71.

4. Being away from a spouse for two weeks and then having a 45 minute phone conversation brings back the excitement of dating all of those years ago.

5. I am alone, but I don't feel alone. My life is good.

Circles

2007-07-25T00:40:00.000-06:00

Checking in over at Terrific Whistlers, I read the Emerson passage that Christopher Lydon quoted in his farewell address. The passage struck me, so here it is:

"Nothing is secure but life, transition, the energizing spirit. No love can be bound by oath or covenant to secure it against a higher love. No truth so sublime but it may be trivial to-morrow in the light of new thoughts. People wish to be settled; only as far as they are unsettled is there any hope for them.”

I can certainly understand what he's getting at, but I can't agree completely. True, it's that energizing spirit that keeps us pushing to see what lies ahead tomorrow. The great excitement of change may be fundamental, but the great serenity of the known is what makes us distinctly human. I know without a doubt that there are some firm truths; reliable points of knowledge that buoy us aloft in the surging waves forward.

portrait at thirty-four

2007-07-23T23:35:00.000-06:00

Porcelain cheekbones, a scar on the chin,

a powerful heritage; sureness within.

Steadiness, thoughtfulness, depth beyond years.

A frame built for dominance; tenderest tears.

Crystal blue diamond eyes fiery pure,

Driven with passion to conquer and cure.

Shattermouth, chattermouth, wild with delight,

Relentless vivacity, magical sprite.

Seraphic, beamingly graceful, serene,

A chicken, a piglet, a monkfish, a bean.

Happiness, confidence, thankfulness, peace,

a foreordained family that will never cease.

So it goes.

2007-07-17T22:51:00.000-06:00

I finished Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse Five. There were three major points of impact that I took away from it.

First, the literary style was tremendous. Whatever you make of the political message and social commentary, I defy you to argue against the brilliance of his style.

My copy is a first edition, published in 1969. The thrill of turning the antique pages one by one definitely enlivened the experience and more keenly emphasized in my mind how the book must have been received stylistically when it was first published. It would be a mistake to think the style is easy just because it seems simple. From other reading about the author, I know he labored under great strain for 25 years before putting the story to paper. Perhaps he meant for the book's message to be its legacy, but I believe its style is its most enduring feature.

Second, his commentary on death stays with me. Vonnegut said that "there is nothing intelligent to say about massacre." Not so, as the novel itself proves. By reducing death to the commonplace, I believe Vonnegut intended to shock the conscience and emphasize the value of life. Even so, I think he failed in this effort largely because he overemphasized the ubiquity of death. It cannot shock the conscience to consider the death of animals and faceless, disconnected people alongside the death of people with whom the reader has a relationship. If death is the great equalizer, then by its very nature we cannot properly react with abhorrence to the atrocities of war that lead to the senseless killings of unknown men. Vonnegut would have made the point better by further emphasizing the randomness of lives that were spared indiscriminitely, like Pilgrim's, to draw distinction between lives preserved and lives taken unjustly. It was a bold attempt at an overarching irony that fell a little bit short.

Finally, the novel's politicization of war in a modern society is as applicable today as it was in the Vietnam era. And of course, it was as applicable then as it was in the early '40's when Vonnegut emerged from the slaughterhouse to find a city of 135,000 massacred souls.

Anti-war literature certainly has its place in society. Lobbying for peace is noble, but in a very socially important way it's not much different than a four year old lobbying for chocolate toothpaste. War is evil and destructive of man. But it is also the great purifier of a conflicted world. It has been around nearly forever, it it will be around nearly until the great end of time. Opposing the conflicts that lead to war seems much more sensible than opposing the great machine of destruction that will inevitably cut wide swaths across all societies in our day.

Maybe the book wasn't meant to halt war, but only to make us stop and think about the great sadness of war. If that is its purpose, it succeeds. And if the firm hand of reality prevails, and wars rage, then what is the harm of a brilliant novel that carves out a small space in the corner for discussions of the ideological lives of men?

If you read this book, you should pause before you begin and take two or three deep breaths. Vonnegut is a genius in his comments on the human condition. This novel is a wonderful work of art, blended with the messages that were important to the author when he wrote them and instructive to readers of any generation.

Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. died on April 11, 2007. So it goes.

the smoke and the haze

2007-07-11T22:51:00.000-06:00

Big fires are burning. People are dying. Nobody I know, so in a way, nobody is dying. But it just as easily could have been someone I knew. Then I would be saying, "Big fires are burning. Part of me has died."

I have some fantastic comforts that afford me the luxury of thinking about things that really matter. Spending time trying to peer through the haze.

Hot water - everyday, on command. The cool smoothness of a clean wood floor on my bare feet.

It's easy to say that the comforts I have aren't really what matter in life. And that's true, by the way; they aren't really what matter, but the point is that it's easy for me to say it because I already have them. Wake up, I have them. Go to bed, wake up, and I still have them.

I come from a time and place where not having those things was always on my mind. And getting them someday mattered a lot. There's no way my parents will ever know or understand how their decisions and circumstances drove me to be the way I am now. The times that there was smoke and haze were the times that awakened the part of me that vowed never to be choked of it.

I don't choke on it now, even though it is out there. Nobody is coughing, sputtering, or dying. Someday there might be choking - I've seen enough to know that. But I won't choke on it today, or tomorrow. Instead, there will be hot water for everyone.

The Wise Old Woman

2007-07-09T20:40:00.001-06:00

Well, I don't think the word "old" has to be interpreted as insulting. I mean, she is old. In more cultures than not, the elders are those who counsel, teach, and govern. Why wouldn't they? It is their wisdom that guides the footsteps of those who follow them. I think it is insulting that we don't value our old people very much at all.

I think about chapters. Endings. Starting points and finishes. I am distracted by the many directions I am headed; so many chapters being written at the same time.

She sees the continuum better than me. She says:

"Life is one long story. At times, one segment is larger than a counterpart. We wonder why. Sometimes, another chapter is written with more brilliancy. Sometimes undesirable metaphors do not reflect right thinking. Yet, life itself is created from fragments of unknown origin. Make no mistake after writing Chapter One; spirit, tenure and goals can change. It is safe to say that one chapter does not make a word, sentence or rule. As your work continues, one chapter follows literally to be better than the first. Therefore, the full meaning of laughter and love and life must be included in the evaluation of the entire compilation."

She is a wise old woman.

"Finding Myself With Calista"

2007-07-03T15:21:00.001-06:00

I've been thinking a lot about my wife lately. Women don't get enough credit for what they do in this world, and good women are especially underappreciated. If I had to break it down, here's how I would assess my performance in terms of giving my wife the proper recognition she deserves:

70% of the time - I'm too focused on things that matter to me (my fantasy baseball team, nachos) to be attuned to the things that matter to her (me not watching my fantasy baseball team, spending more time with the kids).

15% of the time - I'm pulling my weight around the house (because I'm a freak like that) and it puts her to ease somewhat, but it's not a recognition of what she had to go through that made the house look like that in the first place.

10% of the time - I'm giving her guff for one thing or another - totally missing the point of being an understanding counterpart.

and

5% of the time - I'm sweet, helpful, anticipating her needs and giving her the break she needs. This goes on for only a short time before she figures out (rightly, more often than not) that I'm going to try to have sex later.

At any rate, I was thinking about her and I remembered a poem that I wrote for her. It is called "Finding Myself With Calista".

The smile is iridescent,
it gleams inside my dreams.
The eyes are crystal pirouettes
that blend as crystal streams.

The lips are melting invitations
luring me away…
from every bleak reality
that interrupts my day.

But pitfalls of mortality
depress my earnest soul.
At times the pangs of weakness
separate me from my goal.

But then your angel countenance
shines through me, to my core
I marvel and I cry inside
for thanks, for love, for more.

Recall the night I heard one voice,
and knew our lives were meant.
One brief encounter with my God,
one earthy monument

to you, and us, and every day,
my constant motivation.
Just like your radiating smile
that ends all resignation.

And so our lives are etched in time
with histories unknown.
We have no start and have no end
and yet we both have grown.

Like Dali’s wristwatch melting
in the fire of timeless sun,
our union is impervious
and has only just begun.

I really hope Juan Pierre has a good series against the Braves this week because I need the stolen bases...

72

2007-06-25T20:49:00.000-06:00

I am at peace with the golf gods now . . .

Last Friday I shot even par on the golf course for the first time. Officially, I had shot 1-under par (71) one time last year, and that remains my best round ever. But that round was a daring, devilish round of golf that saw me 4-over par through 12 holes, only to make birdie on 5 of the last 6 to end up with an astonishing 71. If that one was all glitz and glimmer, this one was steady and sure.

And plus, this one was par. Not under par, which, in terms of score, is better, but is more like cheating death and coming out way ahead. No, shooting even par was something more tranquil and necessary for my overall golf karma to be whole. Now the round of 71 has a companion - a majestic 72.

The start. If this were the Oscars, I would have to take a brief moment to thank all of the early shots that made it possible, long before we knew the round's result. The brilliant bending 12-foot putt that I made on #1 to save par (who knew that stroke would be so important). The fantastic kick off of the back of the greenside bunker on my approach at #5, leaving me a 3-footer for birdie. And who can forget the snaking 10-footer coming back down the hill on #10 to save bogey after I'd hit in the water on my tee shot.

The middle. From that bogey on #10 I went on to make six straight pars. The par putt on #13 was absolutely ridiculous - I'll admit that I didn't deserve that one. But justice was properly meted out on the very next hole when my 5-footer for birdie didn't drop.

In the end, I stood at +2 through 16 holes, having failed to make birdie at #15 and #16 and feeling like my chance to scare up a par round was lost. Both seventeen and eighteen are notoriously difficult for me to birdie. The math, it would seem, was against me at that point.

The end. Seventeen. 157 yards, par 3. The flag was red and left of center. I pulled out my 6-iron and decided upon a cut shot, giving it plenty of extra power to offset the left-to-right movement I expected. Of course, expecting a shot to behave a certain way is the easier part of the equation. Actually executing it is the part that makes golf a difficult game.

The shot sailed away smoothly, streaking left and then cutting back to the right on my command. It hit the green with a beautiful thud and then trickled further right, tailing away to a distance of 12 feet from the pin. Gorgeous.

At this point I still wasn't thinking about shooting a par round. This putt would have to drop and I would still need to birdie #18. I took aim with my cunning new putter and rolled it in the hole as smoothly as can be imagined. Now it's +1 through seventeen holes and I'm beginning to think.

Eighteen. Looking back, this was the birdie that almost wasn't. I told myself not to over-hit the drive, but I greased it during the backswing and hung it out to the right. I carried the right fairway bunker sufficiently and the ball came down on the hill behind it, taking a gorgeous leftward bounce back towards the fairway. I had 130 left to a red center-cut pin.

Same plan as on seventeen, really. This time I took the 8-iron because the hole plays uphill to an elevated green. No sense in leaving this one short - I was 130 yards from having a birdie putt to shoot even par. I tried to take an easy swing, opening up the front foot to cut this one as well. I hit it so perfectly that I called it while it was in the air. "Oh, that's good. Watch it cut - CUT! - and trickle to the flag. Go baby. GO!"

Seven and a half feet standing between me and even par. The other guys finished out. I liked my line. No way I was leaving this one short. No way, not today.

The strange thing is that I expected the ball to go in. It was a good stroke, a good read, and why shouldn't it drop? It did. I shouted. I hooted. Knowles gave me a high five. Who knows how many hundreds of rounds I've played - how many thousands of hours I've spent - in pursuit of that moment.

Par. Even par. 37 on the front, 35 on the back. Birdie, birdie to end it. A round of 72 that will never be forgotten.

The Chapters Are Just About The Right Length

2007-06-21T16:44:00.001-06:00

Not everything in life has to be a metphor for something else in life. That's a lesson I should do a better job remembering.

Still, chapters seem like nice metaphors. I particularly like the huge captial letter that begins the first word of a chapter. A big number at the top of the page is nice, but it's nothing compared to the giant first letter of the first word.

Suspending the metaphor for a moment, the thing I've noticed about chapters in life is that they don't end as succinctly as chapters in a book. Sometimes I'm well into a new chapter in life before I realize that the old one has ended. Then I look back, trying to figure out where exactly the ending was, and more often than not I end up guessing at something vaguely terminal.

I don't know why endpoints are so important to me, but they are. Without them, the chapters would run on and on, stepping all over each other, and nothing would be the right length.

It's important to me that the chapters be the right length.

a word without boundaries

2007-06-14T16:08:00.000-06:00

I've read a few standardized attempts, but I've not yet found any good definition of the word "art". It seems to be a word, used as a filler, for describing a ranging breadth of responses one might have after experiencing a creative stimulus. That's not my attempt at a definition, by the way.

Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart wrote, failingly, in a decision that did not precisely define obscenity: ". . . I know it when I see it." Ironic. In that particular instance, Stewart's comment was meant to set a standard for distinguishing obsenity from art. I don't care about the obscenity question, but I now apply Stewart's same standard to defining "art".

I was rocked by the first chapter of Kurt Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse Five when I read it last night. Stylistically, I felt as if I were experiencing a revolution. The end product was so effortlessly presented, so efficient.

Being taken unexpectedly by one's response to an object of artistic expression is, for me, an uncommon experience, and exhilarating. Particularly written works, because I sense in them an enviable skill of taking letters, forming words, each common to us all, and evoking such rare sensations.

I can't wait to read more. I hope the experience is sustaining. But even if it isn't, I'm glad that nearly 40 years after he wrote the book (and over 60 years since he experienced Dresden), there are no boundaries to limit the effects of Vonnegut's "art".

The dream about jumping

2007-06-12T16:38:00.000-06:00

I rarely remember dreams, and the ones I do remember are usually the ones I have in the early morning, right before I'm aware that it's going to be time to get up shortly. My dreams don't seem to be long and drawn out, nor do they seem to involve intricate story lines. They are usually short clips of something odd. Something strangely exciting, where something good is about to happen. For as long as I can remember, I've hoped that I'm not really responsible for the things I dream.

The dream I had this morning involved me holding a large ceramic basin. I was standing about 15 paces back from the edge of an enormous cliff, which dropped off about 200 feet into the ocean below. The view from in front of me was all ocean and sky. There were a few other people around me, although I can't recall who they were.

The objective, it seems, was to maintain a steadiness while approaching the cliff's edge and jumping off. We were trying to avoid escalating our heart rate previous to jumping, which is why we stood 15 paces back. We wanted to jump into the water, but we thought we would chicken out if we stood too close to the cliff's edge before making the leap. Apparently, it was important to hold the basin steady, keep the heart rate down, and make the free fall in a controlled fashion all the way until splashdown.

The last thing I remember, before waking, was running towards the edge, careful to hold the basin steady, and making the leap into the air.

Now we'll see where the rest of this blog takes us...