For some reason today on my drive down to Orem, I was thinking about the night before my Uncle Hugh got married. What brought this memory on, I have no idea.
For some reason my sister Amy and I (I think anyway) had to share a room with him. This was at my grandparents house in Longmont, Colorado. For those of you that don't know my Grandpa is very handy and had installed sinks and mirror's into most of the rooms. Any way, after falling asleep on the floor, I have a vivid memory of being woken up by a light. I remember rolling over and seeing my Uncle leaning against the sink with his face mere inches away from the mirror. I think he was mumbling something to the effect of "Am I ready...."
After watching this spectacle for what seemed like an hour, I finally fell asleep again.
I was driving home from school this afternoon and I hit what feels kinda like the halfway point of the trip, The Point of the Mountain. As I left Utah Valley and decented into Salt Lake Valley, I realized that there isn't much of a point or mountain left from all the sand that is being used....hmmmm,should they changed the name to "The place where the Mountain Point Use to Be." What do you, my faithful readers think?
And I am sorry for not writing more. More is on the way!
To preface this story I accidently posted the title without actually writing the story. I received so many comments however, i decided to leave it as an individual post and to chalk it up as 'simple genius'! I hope you enjoy this story. I know I did. And don't worry part 2 is on the way!
I could tell when I awoke on my birthday this year that there were going to be throngs of phone calls, text messages, and small party of well-wishers waiting for me as I walked out the door. I woke up about and got right into studying for my American Lit. exam that was waiting for me that afternoon. As the hours passed, I received no phone calls or texts messages. I will be honest, there was some gnashing of teeth and murmuring that passed from my lips, but lets be honest, it was my birthday! This is the one-day that I actually deserve to get praise for doing absolutely nothing at all. I’ve been doing it (receiving praise) perfectly for 26 Years!
As the hours passed, as I was studying the masters of early American Literature, I received no salutations. No greetings of congratulations or encouragement. My heart was breaking, as I felt more and more alone. (In retrospect it did not help that one of the works I was reading was Walden by Thoreau, which is the story of the authors life for two years as he lived by himself at Walden Pond.)
As I got ready for school, I bathed in my own tears. Tears of rejection and loneliness; of hurt and despair. I clumsily dressed my self, and stumbled out the door with my bag to make the long trek to school. Careful to lock my door to stop any potential thieves, I left my room of dejection. About three steps out of my room I realized that I had left a book I needed. As I turned the knob and I felt with horror that it did not rotate. As I realized the mistake I had made I cursed the heavens with anguish! I had been forgotten by my friends, bathed in my own tears, and now locked out of my place of habitation. What else could go wrong?
I turn on my heal knowing that there is nothing that I can do at this time and I left my apartment in a huff. As I stormed through my apartment I grunted a salutation of farewell to whoever was on the couch and was careful to slam the door vociferously so those all around would know of my suffering. As the windows rattled in their panes, they echoed my personal pain of being forgotten on the one day of the year that was supposed to be mine.
I slung my bag over my shoulder and started to stagger towards school. With shoulders slumped, and a lump in my throat, I wiped the tears from eyes to assume the gazing of my shoes, when I saw a beam of light break from the clouds. I heard a chorus of fire truck sirens sing to me in as I followed the beam of light to ground. I felt like Indian Jones as he discovered the location of the Ark of the Covenant. I took my hat off and wiped my brow of sweat and there, glowing in the sunlight, sat a $20 bill. God had given me a Birthday present!
All of sudden I didn’t care that my friends had betrayed me on my birthday. I didn’t care that I was locked out of my room. I had $20 to do whatever I wanted. The sky was my limit…or at least a $20 limit.
There was a spring in my step as I skipped to school. I small flock of sparrows began to sing my sorrows away as I felt the delightful tingle of money burning in my pocket. As I boarded the shuttle that would transport me to campus, I decided to call a friend to share my magnificent news with. As I made the call, my phone showed that I had full bars, but there was no network. I laughed, as I restarted my phone and I enjoyed the sun on my shoulders that was shining through the windows as well asthe new cash in my pocket. As my phone restarted, I was surprised that in a matter of seconds I received a plethora of text messages and voicemail's from all of my friends. I was happy to find that they were all words of encouragement, mingled with the occasional sympathy for the increase in age.
As I arrived in my class to take my midterm exam, I didn’t have a care in the world. As I proceeded to write out my exam I was able to answer the questions with ease. The words flowed from my pen as water from a garden hose. Before I knew it I had answered all of the questions, and was out the door to enjoy the rest of my day.
As I walked down the hall and exited the school to journey back home, my mind turned to the predicament at hand; being locked out of my room. As the wheels of thought started to turn, I realized I needed to oil up the gears, and shake the dust off my problem solving skills. I came to a few possible ways to break in, right off the bat. Option A, the doorknob I had installed was a little too large for the door. While it was functional, it was, as my father would fondly put, Mickey Mouse. With enough force I felt that I would be able to open the door, and gain admission to my room. Option B, was through my bedroom window. Because of the nice weather I had left my window unlocked, and slightly ajar to let fresh air consume my quarters. The problem with using my window however, was that it approximately 30 feet off the ground.
Taking a page from tasteskindaminty.blogspot.com*, I have decided to write about a childhood memory. Well, on the fringe of my childhood. The Winter of 2000. When I was either 17 0r 18 my friend Henry and I had an opportunity to house and dog sit for my grandma who unfortunately was getting heart surgery. We had now idea what we were in for.
My Grandma lives in the southwest corner of Wyoming in Evanston. For all of you that do not know what Evanston is like.....well your not missing much. Its right on the edge of the prairie so you have a little bigger hills than the majority of what you would see driving across the state. It is pretty in its barren, desolate way i guess, but it is an aquired beauty.
To give one an idea of the economy and what its like there seems to be about three things the city thrives off: 1. Truck Stops and Gas Stations. 2. Fireworks and Liquor Stores (usually connected for optimal safety! and usually thriving with Utards. That way one can get their 'real' booze and explosives all in one stop. I actualy think that there is an 'adult' store some where in the mix of all this too.... ) 3. Wal-Mart (yes the evil empire has it strangle hold on this small community. Sad.)
But I digress...
My Grandmas house is in a nice neighborhood on the edge of town, on top of a hill, that overlooks the entire valley the town in nestled in. I'm pretty sure that we arrived at fairly late at night to the usual cold temperatures that engulf Evanston in the winter. We went to sleep fairly quickly and woke up to a blizzard. This was an actual blizzard. White out, windy, drifts and one of the first symptoms of cabin fever.
Henry and I did what any other kids would do in this situation. We raided Grandmas kitchen. Well, actually more of her freezer. The first day we successfully ate pretty much all of the frozen delicatecs that my Grandma had amassed. We instantaneously moved on to scrounging. Looking back we could have cooked something pretty good, but come on, who wants to cook! We also had a cooler full of soda and other random snacks that we devoured in the first day.
You might ask why we didn't just leave the house to venture to one of the gas stations, truck stops, or even to the wal-mart to restock our supplies. But like I said before there was a blizzard and so much snow that we were literally snowed in.
Not knowing anyone in town we were at the mercy of the elements. It did not help that our vehicle selection was as good as a boat in the middle of the Sahara. I was driving a little 2-wheel drive Ford Ranger, my Grandma actually had a boat, an old Mercury, and last but not least we had my Dads BMW. We were there till the snow stopped, whether we liked it or not. Or at least till they plowed the roads, which they never ended up doing...we were stuck for the duration.
As the cabin fever started to set in we started did what any normal teenagers would do. We ate more, watched more TV, ate some more, harassed the dogs. Then repeated. We had brought a couple of movies with us (these were actually VHS, not DVD's which is still better than film strips like my dad had) and as we would finish a movie, because of sheer boredom, we would simply rewind and watch the exact movie over. I'm sure that over the course of this entrapment we watched the same movie easily six or seven times. Isn't the definition of crazy; to do the same thing over and over again and expect a different result?
That night the dogs would not go out. We looked and decided that it was most likely because the snow was so deep. How deep we didn't know, we our selves hadn't been out for hours. This made it an easy decision to use the dogs for an experiment to see just how deep it actually was. We tossed the dogs down in to the snow and they immediately disappeared in to the snowy abyss. The most entertaining part of this however was not the throwing, but rather watching the dogs jump out of the snow. They looked like a mix of a dolphin swimming next to a ship, and a gazelle darting from a cheetah! It was amazing how high and fast the dogs made it back inside.
Being the dogs only protectors, we decided that we should make a proper place for the dogs to poop. In retrospect we had so much built up energy from not doing anything that we need to burn off some juice. We ended up making a fortress that would have rivaled anything Calvin and Hobbes could have built. We had seven flying buttresses, three guard towers, a moat, and three snow alligators to keep other dogs out, and our dogs from escaping, unless it was racing over our working draw bridge to attack intruders.
Unfortunately the dogs figured out that the alligators had more bark (or is it hiss?) than bite. As they walked through the moat we could hear them snicker at the gators who ironically were crying big alligator tears. Who knew they actually did that! After exchanging un-plesentaries they quickly spent the rest of their time in unsafe, deep, snow. But dogs will be dogs.
With the dogs enjoying there own place to plop a squat Henry and I, in full snow gear were not ready to go in. We spotted a sizable drift and quickly decided that we needed to to make a snow cave. In matter of minutes we had a nice small cave constructed that was big enough for one person comfortably, or two very uncomfortably. We quickly got bored with taking turns laying in the cave so we decided to make things interesting. We stripped down to our shorts and took turns laying in the snow cave. Did i mention that it was a whopping 20 below zero. Laying around in the snow got very cold quickly, obviously, so we decided to run across the street to hit up the the ginormous hill to try our hand at some late night blizzard sledding.
It was amazing. Gliding down the hill it was exilherating. Especially the snow in my face, and my body screaming protest as the first stages of hypothermia and frostbite set. But non of this mattered. We were being manly men! Who else, other than a man, would strip down to their skivvies, climb into snow caves and go sledding in minus 20 degree weather?
As we stumbled back inside to get warm we realized that having a little cabin fever would make you do some crazy things. I was glad what when I looked over at the dogs and, Henry for that matter, I didn't see two little Cornish Game Hens running around and a large drumstick looking back at me. I am from Colorado after all, I learned about the Donner party. To the dogs, as well as Henry's luck after a good night of rest the sun came out and started to melt the snow as well as well as breaking my fever.
The next day we decided to venture into town for supplies. By supplies, I am referring of course to Wendy's! After feasting on a greasy smorgasboard of fast food goodness, we stopped and got some other necessities such as mountain dew, chips, and corn nuts and headed back up the hill to re-enter our temporary stockade. There was one problem however. My tiny truck could not make it up the 'little hill' to Grandmas house. Snow+bad tires+plus a 2 wheel drive truck=going no where with any sort of incline. Luckily a friendly neighbor was coming home from the corner liquor store and offered us a ride just as we started our trek up the hill.
After one more night of overcoming the symptoms of cabin fever we were able to escape to the highway to spend a day skiing in Park City. This turned out to be the proper therapy that we needed and we overcame the fever and both of us have been in remision for the past 8 years.
I suggest to any one who has a chance of catching the fever to be prepared. Bring a few small house dogs, lots of junk food, movies, and a 4 wheel drive. It keeps this deadly itis from infecting you, as well as helping you beat any symptoms you may get from full blown Cabin Fever.
I, like my brother-in-law, (author of theotherdrummer.com as well as livsimpl.com)* share a strong distaste for Frenchies. I could write a list to why I don't like them, but I don't have enough time as well as space on this blog to do so. I thought instead that I would but a video that pretty much says it all!
This is a video from the French version of Who Wants to Be a Millionaire. The best part about this video is that it shows the collective stupidity of all the audience, who when polled answered the question the wrong.
So with out further delay I present a stupid French guy! *David that plug just cost you buying me dinner!
So it has been a couple of days since my last post so I thought that I would write something realy quick!
First off, The NY Giant are the Super Bowl Champs! They beat the highly favored New England Patriots who were, up to the super bowl, undefeated. Eli Manning showed his resiliency and brought home the championship! One of the best parts about Eli wining is that it comes just one year after his brother won the Super Bowl for the Colts....I love Football!!
Secondly, The commercials were sub-par. I was very disappointed I have to say. I think that this was one of the the worst years for ads that I can remember! Which is to bad for all the companies that had ads since this was the biggset crowd ever to watch a Super Bowl.
Third, although I should have learned from past experiences, if you eat something that burns going in, its gonna burn coming out. Especially if you eat it on an empty stomach....'nugh said!
Fourth, Girls are like a rubiks cube. Only a few people can actually figure them out. A lot of times you might have one side figured out, but it usually gets messed up when you work on another side.
Fifth, Frank Sintra is still the man and the new Foo Fighters CD is good.
I think that is about it for now. I have a few other ideas knocking around that I will hopefully get on paper soon enough!
As I was meandering through digg.com tonight I came across this video of a high speed chase. I have to say this is some pretty amazing driving. Makes me kinda want to try my hand at eluding officers! OK, not really....but you can imagine right? Anywho, I thought that this would be even better with the Benny Hill song playing over it....but I don't know how to do that, so imagine!
I have recently decided to not be fat anymore and to take up running. I ran three days this week and was planning on taking Friday off, and then running again today (Saturday). I was busy for the better part of the morning and early afternoon and thought around 3:00 pm would be a good time to go. Apparently I was wrong.
I have been running at the School because the facilities are nice, free, and are usually not full of meatheads looking for a mate, or plastic girls showing off there recently augmented plastic parts ( this is, by the way, an exaggerated stereotype, although David may fit in the meathead department! :) ). I arrived at the school to find that all the doors to work out rooms are locked up tight. With no one in sight to let me sneak in I settle for plan B: The tiny work out room in our apartment complex. As I walk in, I am meet first with a blast of 85 degree air that smells like a mix of an old bowling ally, my left foot, and the bathroom after my Dad has had a large meal. There were two other guys working out that I assume were the main contributers of this robust aroma.
Reminding myself that not being fat is the ultimate goal, I put my shoes on and settled unto a treadmill to start my warm up. As I walked, getting lose to prepare for my long journey to no where, I looked in the mirror that covers the entire wall in front of me and see that my head is coming a little to close to the celling. If you happened to read my last post you will learn that I am not tall at all, or as my Dad says, I'm 'above average'. I decide to switch to the next treadmill over to warm up and run. After a brisk 5 minute, 3 mph warm up walk I bump the speed up to a whooping 6.5 mph. Feeling confident with the speed I take about 3 strides when the machine shuts off. Apparently this treadmill doesn't like to have people run on it. I try again hoping that it was just being irascible. Turns out that it is really just a big piece of rubbish that has does not work properly worked. (did I just say rubbish?)
I promptly switch back to the original treadmill, get it up to speed, and find that it makes a horrible creaking....or breaking...or just one of those bad sounds that you know isn't right. But I push on knowing that running will make me not fat. After the first couple minutes my mind finally is puts at ease that I will not hit my head on the celling. Then something exciting happens. I know you are wonder what possibly could be exciting on a treadmill in and room that is 85 degrees and smells like an old bowling ally, my left foot, and the bathroom after my Dad has had a large meal. Well I will tell you! The tread decided to stop spinning randomly until it felt the pressure of my foot hitting it. I don't know if any of you have actually experienced it but I have found it similar (in a very loose way) to slipping on ice when you try to run on it catching patches of snow that kinda act like traction. It actually doesn't give justice to what it is really like but that is the only thing that comes to mind.
I am known to be clumsy. Especially when I am trying to impress a girl, or need to do something important. I have never had a real problem being clumsy before on a treadmill before, so I was caught completely off guard when I tripped. Luckily I caught my self on the nifty safety bars. (This is another time when my lower center of gravity has come into handy.) I at least wanted to run a mile and was little over half way done when the first trip occurred. I stuck it out and actually ran a pretty good mile time of about 12:00 minutes. Which is fairly good considering I haven't ran that much in the past year.
I contemplated running for another 20 minutes or so outside but quickly put that thought out of my mind because the second I stepped out side I saw steam rise from my face and shirt. On my way home my hair started to freeze so I am sure I made the right decision. Anywho that was my late afternoon. Pretty lame, but you are reading this, so I guess that its not that bad!
I have noticed a couple things. First, I am short. Second, my jeans are always wet at the bottoms whenever it snows or rains. Now I know that you are thinking. You think I should just buy shorter jeans, but that is where the genes come in. Because of my genes I am in between sizes. Either I get short high-waters, or just a little to long.
My Father is 6'4. My Mother is 5'4. Sorry to say, but those were never very good odds for me. Unfortunately for me, my older sister got the tall genes at a whopping 6 foot she has always towered over me even as a child. My younger sister is also tall for a lot of girls and claims to have passed me in height. My parents have reassured me that she is still shorter but I swear she looks me square in the eye.
I am openly blaming my parents for my height retardation. Mainly my Dad. He knowingly married and bred with a short woman....and Mom, you let him! My sister Amy, openly dislikes guys like my Dad who dated and married girls a full foot shorter. This leaves the tall girls waiting for a taller guy to realize that they can date someone who is taller than average.
Now Dad didn't you think of your unborn son and his perpetually wet jeans when you were courting my Mom?! Forget love, and eternity! I'm talking about always having to take my pants off when I come home from school so I don't get the carpet and socks wet and dirty.
OK, its not really that bad of a thing that I was made short (even though I really take my pants off when I come home if it has snowed or rained). Some good has come from it. For instance I have an awesome family, and being born is a pretty good deal in itself. I will most likely have giant children of my own. I'm guessing that I will have kids taller me by the time they are hit their mid-teens. Another plus, I'm taller than my mom. It made me feel good, and helped with my self esteem when I finally passed her in height during my senior year of high school.
I also have a lower center of gravity. Which has come in handy for things like skiing and mountain biking. I have yet to do half of the amazing mountain bike gymnastic dismounts that my Dad has done. I have rarely if ever hit my head form being to tall. That usually happens from stupidity. And I'm almost always short enough to fit under ever shower head I have encountered.
So all in all being short is not that bad. The real down fall is that because of my genes I always have wet jeans.
First off I would just like to say that for some of you that listen to modern music, the description of this blog is the name of a Collective Soul Album. If I remember correctly it was one of my first albums. I think that it will do a good job of describing the things that I will be writing about.
Now on to todays blog...
I have noticed that there are a few things that need to change when it comes to snow. First and for most the way that most people here in Utah drive in it. No if I were a betting man, I would have bet, before i moved here, people would be generally good at driving in snow. I mean this is the home of the 2002 WINTER Olympics. The license plates boast "The Greatest Snow on Earth." If you have ever watched a Warren Miller movie than you would know that some of the worlds greatest shots have come from Utah. Aparently all bets are off.
Why is it that people turn into complete numbskull's when there is a little snow on the road? I can understand if you are from somewhere like Florida and this is the first time that you have ever seen the stuff, but for all of you Utards that just turn on the stupid switch whats the deal?
To give an example of this stupidity (there are many that I could choose from) I will start with a simple one. This one takes place on the interstate. I'm not trying to be stereotypical or sexist put it usually involves a teenage girl going about 80 mphs, weaving in and out of traffic, while talking on a cell phone. Apparently the freshly fallen snow is a candy coating to the road that helps you go really fast! I always cringe and tense up when I see one of these plastic girls driving their plastic rice rockets oblivious to the world. The same applies to those that drive a big SUV or truck, that think they are magically not going to spin out of control or stop because the have four wheel drive. Plain and simple snow idiocy.
Another example happened the other day as I was turning in to my apartment. I pulled in to the middle lane and was waiting for a gap in the steady stream of traffic to make my cross. There where a lot of cars and I had been waiting a couple of minutes. Normally I would have been very irritated, but i have learned to be patient in the snow. Then out of no where this lady in a minivan stops the entire lane of traffic. She seriously slammed on the brakes and waved me across. I'm all for being a good Samaritan, but this was just plain stupid. It is not like all of a sudden the laws of driving change, and you have to give up your right away. Luckily everyone behind her was able to stop.
My sister and brother-in-law are assistants to the manager at the apartment complex they live at. There basic duties include garbage removal, keeping the grounds clean, and clearing snow from sidewalks when appropriate. I'm assuming that an appropriate time to remove snow is AFTER it snows. I know that I am going out on a limb here with this guess since I myself have never been an Apartment Manager. I'm assuming that the Managers at my apartment complex never got the memo about snow removal from the Apartment Managing School. I have lived at the same place for almost two years and they have never shoveled snow. There idea of snow removal is spreading a 20 pound bag across the entire complex and hoping that the sun gets the rest. To bad the sun never shines on ANY of the sidewalks. This is another one of those "Hello!! You are in UTAH!!" type of things that you shouldn't have to worry about
I could go on with a few more examples of snow idiocy, but I think that ya'll get the idea.
If any of you readers out there have any examples, I would love to hear them.
I'm sitting here at my second favorite table in the library and thought i would check out my amazing blog....then I realized I didn't even remember what the address was. I ended up going on to my Dads sit, Tastes Kinda Minty, for the link.
Any who, I was sitting here contemplating a riveting chapter in my Modern Historiography book and I thought that i would tear my self away to blog a bit.
Not quite sure what about yet, so please bear with me! First off I figure that I will first update the World Wide Web, or about the the three people that will read this about my life. Ready this is going to be some exciting stuff....I'm a student. I spend a few hours a day at school everyday. I'm taking 15 credit hours so I stay busy. After classes I usually eat lunch, then go back to the Library and read till my eyes fall out (as one of my Professors would say). Yup that is basically my life. I wish that it was more exciting!
Well my last adventure (if you can call it that) I partook was last night which was a Monday. A water main broke on campus. Around 4:30 we were sent an email to our school account that stated the following:
Campus physical plant has informed us that the campus has had a major break in a water line on the north side of campus. To protect our power source, they are closing down power in parts of the campus. We are assessing the situation and will notify people soon about the impact of the power outage.
My once a week, three hour, Monday night class was canceled. Now I am like any other college student, happy to have a break from class, but the problem is with MLK Day last Monday we have only had class twice before. To top it off I think that we are scheduled for a test this week. Not really sure whats going on with it now!
So instead of class I decided to go to the UVU Girls Basketball. But because of the power outage the game which was scheduled to be played at the McKay Event Center had to be moved and delayed. The Game was moved to a Timp High School. Kinda sad. I think that there are more people at a high school Girls Game! Well the Lady Wolverines ended up playing Chicago State University. (CSU, which has the same colors as the real CSU, Colorado State. Just some party trivia for ya.)
The Lady's, like usual dominated. At the end of the first half they are up by at least 20. At the start of the second half they scored a quick 9 unanswered points and CSU is forced to call a timeout with only 48 seconds into the half. Then all of a sudden I swear I was watching the Jazz play. All of sudden the lead was only down to about 10. Then 3. Then CSU was up by two. With 1.1 Seconds left CSU fouled the girl that you wouldn't want to foul, the star point guard! With the fouls in bonus all she had to do was sink two free throws and the game would go into over time. Unfortunately clutch shooting apparently is not her forte, she missed the shot and we lost the game. I guess some good did come from this game however. I won a free T-Shirt!
Well I am going to try and get into the habit of Blogging. I know this one post is pretty lame but I am confident that they will get much much better! Thanks for Reading.