Voodoo Gremlins

Musings

2011-02-09T14:43:00.001-07:00

I thought I could see clearly.

We thought the world was once a good natured beast that needed the tiniest training. We thought that most folks were good hearted. We all wanted to bring about good and great things. We all wanted the best that there is for our homes and our communities. I see now that we were small minded. We made the mistake of not counting on that innate little evil we all deny - self interest.

Everyone is in it for themselves.

I am not immune to this either. I thought that I was a selfless individual. Indeed, I thought quite highly of myself. I was good because I gave. I was good because I cared. I was good because I kept my list of good things my church told me would make me happy. I was good because of all the little things that I did and all the big things I didn’t do.

Here is where I was not so good.

I wasn’t in it for myself. I gave and wondered how my offering could be scorned so. I gave and gave, never thinking about what it was costing me. I never stopped & asked myself if it was good to give and like most things the answer was yes………and no.

An Old Post That I Dared Not to Publish....

2010-11-30T12:46:00.002-07:00

Some time ago, I wrote quite a few posts & never actually posted them here. I suppose there is a myriad of reasons I didn't. The foremost is that I battle depression. I have always looked at this problem as some sort of shameful, weak, element of who I am. I have been and am embarrassed by it. Yet, I feel somewhat safe here among the schooling masses and I recently, in the last year or so, made a concerted effort to deal with shame constructively. At any rate, this depression peaked so horribly for me that last summer I came apart. My personal life unraveled, indeed I was awash in a sea of betrayal and lies and my soul ended - bought and sold for a pittance. I was so very alone. And that part of me that always was, that background noise that I had learned to live with, that hum of machinery that we grow used to, could no longer be ignored. Waking to the icy inhale of a frozen February morning, I imploded in a way and had to rebuild who I thought I was and who I want to be. I am barely learning to understand myself & am barely learning, as a man in his mid- 30's, how to deal with life in a healthy manner. As I have somewhat alluded in my last post the reason why I write is changing as well. I admit freely that this blog (and almost any blog) exists to stroke the ego of the author. However, There have been unintended consequences & I have found writing to be surprisingly therapeutic......

It's been a while....a good, long while

2010-07-06T14:31:00.002-07:00

What should I write after a year? That warm tug, that need to write, is easily ignored, but it never goes away entirely. I believe this must be because I solidify ideas by writing them. We learn our arguments from how/what we write. At any rate, here I am & I am already weary of qualifying this posting.
So, I never really stopped blogging or writing (by the way, I heard somewhere that using the word "so" is bad form, but I think the word has a great personality). In actuality, I've 7 or 8 different postings that sit upon parchment, waiting to be discarded or transcribed into digital infamy.
Why did I stop? I don't know fully. Facebook, that damnable rogue, had something to do with it. I can have incredible, thoroughgoing, conversation with Jokers far more eloquent and intelligent than I. One only needs to post a paragraph and rewarding pontification can go on for days. Yet, I still do not feel as complete as when I write a blog posting. In short, my ego needs more stroking than Facebook can provide. Also, my search for inner peace (and propensity to bitch) requires more than Facebook can give.
I am changing, as always. I am not the man I was my last posting, nor am I completely different. My responsibilities at work tripled during my second year, I now teach 6 separate preparations, and I was flying by the seat the ol' khakis. During my last summer, my very first summer as a teacher, I bit off so much more than I could chew. I ended up in a doctor's office (again) and asking him why I was feeling so crappy (again) and his answer was the same (again). Yes, I once more walked through my own customized dark night of the soul. Once more, I looked into the abyss. And I know that I will again. I curse this illness, and yet, it is me, and I know no other way.
I like writing, but I hate commitment. I am no Tolkien or Hemingway, nor am I trying to be. My purpose here is simply to express myself. I hope to post again, but I make no promises. A commitment will kill my expression.

The Rudest Students

2009-06-30T12:15:00.003-07:00

I've only been teaching for one year. Already I am convinced that teachers are the rudest of students. Every course I have attended with a group of teachers has been an exercise in frustration.

I'm serious! Being in a classroom with other teachers is like being in a room of stray cats. There are 15 distinct conversations going on at once, all while the teacher is teaching. And they're not quiet, whispered conversation, it is always full voice, or even done in a louder competitive voice. What happened to the concept of whispering? Does no one know this effective, simple skill for communicating quietly? I swear that I am the last person on Planet Earth that knows how to whisper? It must be a lost art - like moonshining.

Let me also let you in on a dark secret of the teaching profession; there are some really, really stupid teachers. Are you in shock and awe? Not most teachers, not even a lot of teachers, but enough. I have noticed that the stupidest teachers seem to have been educated sometime in the '80s. I know, I know, some of my best teaching friends were educated in the '80s. Just pretend that I am not talking about you. When I was a lad, I remember finding a teaching certification, as a prize, in a box of Lucky Charms. I think this must be how a lot of teachers became certified back then (that or they went to BYU).

2009-03-27T11:11:00.000-07:00

Winter is gasping its last breath as I write this. The snow is flying. I could do without winter most of the time. I find winter to be a rude guest that tends to wear out its welcome. Still, I have a sneaking suspicion that I would miss it if it were gone…..just a little.

Welcome spring, my old friend. Welcome magical high desert nights with your punctured pinhole sky. I look forward to warm days, warm nights, migrating seagulls and your nemesis crickets. Welcome flowing desert creeks and mountain blue birds. I’ll be listening for you, wily ol’ coyote and your witch howl. The mountains and desert stillness will be painted with cactus and sage brush flowers. I can already imagine the sound of laughing children chasing lizards and begging to stay outside longer. I will sit beside a canyon and listen while the wind rushes through the pine and there I will feel my God. There and no where else. Blessed spring, blessed summer, blessed Mother Earth.

2009-02-10T10:28:00.001-07:00

It is the best of times. It is the worst of times. If you’re like me, you are wondering what awaits us as a nation. Perhaps you ponder our future with a lot of fear and little hope. I find myself wondering and worrying so often these days that I can barely contain myself.

I worry about our world and our seemingly never ending quest to bring about our own extinction. I worry about our nation; we seem so hell bent on spending ourselves into third world squalor. I even worry about my friends in my church who seem so focused on the tiniest sins that they blind themselves to the gargantuan suffering in the world around them. Seriously, shouldn’t we be concerning ourselves with the bigger issues of our time, like starvation and calamity, instead of worrying about movie ratings and Victoria’s Secret posters? It is time to grow up as Christians. I think I’ll go into this further in a future post.

So what is a person to do, when the world around them seems to be falling apart?

I say that it is time to buck the system….just a little.

Here are some things I am going to do:

1. Eat a bowl of oatmeal every day. I cannot afford to go to the doctor; even though I have health insurance. Yup, I am for nationalized (socialized- the word doesn’t even scare me) health care and preventative medicine.
2. Go for a walk for 30 minutes a day, preferably in the desert. Again, I am a teacher; a visit to the doctors office can break me.
3. Repair my shtuff. Why buy new? Fixing is a dark art that brings healing. And screw this economy, it was built on sand.
4. Make my tiny house work for me. Again…screw this economy.
5. Build a rocket stove – I am going to cook stuff outside and that act alone will have a purifying effect on my well being. You know – a BBQ with meaning on a hand built stove, not the soulless contraption you bought to make your outdoor cooking “bigger and better.”
6. Do something illicit – I am tired of always toeing the line for a broken system devoid of meaning. Those of you in on this know what I am talking about.
7. Have recession parties. You bring the rice; I’ll have the ol’ lady cook some beans. Let’s jam out on some instruments and laugh and speak of deep things. It hardly costs anything and is more edifying than a night at Wal-mart.

What sorts of things are you doing to make life “real”

A Small Observation

2009-01-08T17:04:00.000-07:00

I am not a sports guy. A global hoe-down like the Olympics or World Cup, or something cozy like a family get-together is what it takes for me to watch sports. After watching the Sugar Bowl with family last week, I just wanted to declare to my little corner of the world:

The BCS is BS and this proves it. Eastern elitism reigns supreme.

Championships are won, not selected.

Congratulations Utah Utes National Champions 2008

The Jimmy Chamberlin Complex - Cranes Of Prey

2009-01-07T00:02:00.001-07:00

Coming Out of the Closet

2008-12-19T08:46:00.002-07:00

So, I just watched Clone Wars.

I declare unto the world on this day that I am through being used and abused by the Star Wars franchise. Never again Lucas, never, never, never again.

I have lost the beautiful wonder and fascination that I felt as a boy when watching Star Wars. I remember my first Stars Wars experience like I remember my first kiss. I actually watched Return of the Jedi first. When Luke jumped off of the plank and started choppin’ up the bad dudes, I was hooked. Who wasn’t?

A long time ago, at an employer far, far away, Darren Zufelt sent me an article about Star Wars; the jest of the article was simple: most Star Wars fans actually hate George Lucas. The article was spot on. Yet, I still remained loyal, even though I secretly agreed.

Now, I am coming out of the closet, so to speak. I am breaking with orthodox geekery. I am turning my back on my beloved nerdy self. And it’s all because of Clone Wars. I’m like a whipped puppy; looking for love and finding only a snaggle toothed letdown.

The thing that bothers me most, is that I think that Lucas has now set the bar for future nerd/cult followings. I am weary of the Superman franchise. I am hopeful for the Batman franchise, but we’ll see; comic book movies generally flop on the third serving. The first movie is like a fine sushi bar, the second is authentic Italian, and the third is a happy meal. Think on these things my brethren and sistren, you’ll come to accept it as unadulterated truth (remember the neon Batman movie).

Maybe there is hope. Wolverine is coming out. Watchmen is on its depressing way. I keep fasting and praying for The Flash movie, but it looks doubtful that it will ever happen. Perhaps The Hobbit will satisfy my cravings.

Tell me my friends, what’s a geek to do?

R-r-r-random Thoughts

2008-10-22T11:48:00.003-07:00

1. Sarcasm is hard to convey in written form.
2. A family is a man's treasure.
3. Friends make the ride a little less rough.
4. A wife's smile is better than a thousand guitars.
5. It is easy to be rude.
6. It is easy to be offended.
7. It is easy to avoid conflict.
8. Tuck, from Tuck & Patti, is a genius; along the lines of Robert Fripp.
9. Xbox 360 is a fart you like to smell.
10. Duty can wear on you.
11. To work with your hands is the closest thing to magic we can come to.
12. What comes around goes around.
13. Yin AND Yang are both important.
14. Paradoxes must be. They provide the bridge to our sanity.
15. The love of money IS the root of all evil. It is. It is. It is.
16. I can be a pompous ass.
17. Never eat a whole box of Life cereal in one sitting....trust me.
18. Democrats are not evil.
19. Republicans are not evil.
20. I'm not voting for either one.
21. 90's hip hop is best.
22. What we are thinking, we are becoming.
23. Experience is to be respected.
24. Italian food is almost as good as Cajun food.
25. Mountain Dew is poison, but delicious, especially in Slurpee form.

2008-09-19T12:22:00.002-07:00

I wish there was a way to get rid of my student loans.

It is too bad I didn't purchase a house that I couldn't afford, or stocks that were likely to fail. My pal Uncle Sam would then come along and bail me out of my own predicament.

When are conservatives going to realize that Republicans have been wearing a mask for decades.

Quit empowering these fools.

Queen - Innuendo

2008-07-22T12:47:00.001-07:00

I haven't posted a video for quite a while. I didn't want my blog to become a video showcase of my interests.

Anyway, this might be one the most perfect pieces of music in existence. The lyrics are pointed and thoughtful, the harmonies perfect, the guitar is sublime and a bit mysterious, all backed by a pulsing rhythm section. I also like the video, with its surreal imagery.

It is too bad that Freddie Mercury is no longer with us. He was special.

Enjoy.

First Things First

2008-07-21T11:00:00.000-07:00

I love fishing!

I never do enough of it.

This time was special. It was special because it was the perfect fishing day. Which is rare, so rare in fact, that it is the first time that it has happened to me. I have also had a perfect fishing night, but only once.

The day was perfect. The sky was slightly overcast. The wind was blowing mildly, like the hot breath of Jezebel. My boys were with me. It wasn't just the weather that was perfect, it was everything. We left on time. The truck has no serious malfunctions, the boat had no serious malfunctions, everyone had a life jacket, everyone remembered their license, we had enough gear, the gear that we did have was in good condition, and we caught fish like we were the last source of bait left on the planet.

The fish varied in size from normal planters to big ol' suckers. We caught Rainbow Trout, Cutbow Trout, Cutthroat Trout and even one Tiger Trout. The highlight of the day for me was catching the Cutthroat seen below. It is the biggest Trout I have ever caught.

I eat the fish I catch if they are large enough. I don't have any problem with the catch and release crowd, although they seem to have a problem with me. I think that once in a while, it would do them good to harvest some of the fish that they catch. Killing and eating food is a lesson that can only be learned by doing it. I believe that doing this fosters a complete respect for the creatures that are killed for my benefit. It makes this gluttonous fat guy a little less gluttonous.

Beer Can Man

2008-07-16T07:46:00.010-07:00

A few weeks ago, I spent a whole week doing Professional Development (teacher training) at Brian Head, Utah. The course was a fascinating survey of the impact of the spruce beetle on the forest in the Brian Head area. The never ending interplay between all manner of species within a given ecosystem is overwhelming.

It should come as no surprise when, in the middle of nowhere (shouts Pee Wee Herman), I found a pile of soda and beer cans. Who is this foul jackass that spreads his filth in the form of Busch beer and Tiki Punch cans? Every "remote" place I’ve ever visited has been first befouled by the Beer Can Man....why?

On another note, I may be changing my mind about the right to take ATV’s on trails. Without exception, everywhere there was a road or an ATV trail, there was trash to be collected (proving Edward Abbey right). Perhaps this seems like a no-brainer, but the amount of garbage present along rutted roads versus hiking trails was staggering. And by staggering, I mean utterly shocking and aweing.

We are swine! People are absolutely filthy dirty when they go into the wild.

On yet another note. Is there anything more phony than a resort town? I couldn’t wait to come home and wash my hands of cabin/mansions, stylish outdoor clothing, bike pants, timeshare condos, bike pants, and cabin architecture. Park City, Jackson Hole, and Brian Head all stink to me like the rich and disconnected. One can’t purchase the quality that comes from an experience, when that experience was packaged by a salesman at a posh outdoors store.

We trapped about 50 chipmunks. We were doing population studies of small mammals in various ecosystems.

This is what my friend the machinist calls "ass time." He said it...not me.

We had one trapping area that was just about at the top center of the edge of this canyon. The canyon is called Cedar Breaks and it is incredible. Whilst trapping there, I strayed from the group for a few minutes and walked to the edge. I am glad I did.

"What our economists call a depressed area almost always turns out to be a cleaner, freer, more livable place than most." Edward Abbey

O Captain! My Captain!

2008-06-12T16:20:00.002-07:00

This post is long overdue. I am sorry. I should have written something between today and last time that I posted. Life has a way of getting busy quickly. Life also has a way of changing dramatically and at the least expected times.

My life has changed.

Many of you know that I pursued my undergraduate degree in History Education. I thought it a noble pursuit to be a teacher, especially in the discipline of History. Like everyone else, I struggled, and bled, and fought my way through college to obtain a degree. Then I graduated and found the job prospects to be sparse. It turns out that most history teachers are also coaches. I really should have known that (insert clown horn noise here). Please understand that I don’t bear any real grudge towards high school sports. However, I think that high school sports are wildly over funded, serve a tiny fraction of the students at a school; all in the name of a vocation that one in a million kids will be able to do professionally. Most importantly, I don’t think that coaches, in general, make good history teachers. History is supremely important! In my view, the main purpose of history is to teach critical thought. Incidentally, that is the main job of all of the soft sciences.

I have digressed.....badly.

So, there I was; fresh from the university and nowhere to go. It was depressing. Really, really, really, depressing. I soon picked up work in the automotive field and eventually working for a city doing an obscure, ill respected form of law enforcement known as code enforcement. And I was happy as bacteria in a petri dish. I really was.

Then my life changed. A job opened up at the local high school, indeed the same high school where I student taught a year ago. I was encouraged to apply, and I did, and I got the job. It was quick and unexpected. In fact, really unexpected. I am so happy and also very sad all at the same time because, for the first time ever, I am leaving a job that I love.

I hinted at this my last post. Now it is official. My time as a code enforcement officer is soon up. Now I shall have my shot at the noble profession of teaching. It will be a "good practical sort of immortality" as John Muir so eloquently stated. I shall be teaching history and science. Wish me well, and I welcome any and all ideas!

10 Things I am Grateful for

2008-05-20T15:34:00.002-07:00

1. The gruff guy on his Harley the other morning. As I walked by his steel horse, "The Wind Beneath My Wings" by Bette Midler began playing. The Harley with a stereo seemed as out of place as this dude and Bette Midler.

2. Desert flowers, grasses, and the occasional Emerson Lake & Palmer record.

3. Hidden opportunities and uncertain futures. (hint, hint)

4. Arrowheads.

5. Odd time signatures.

6. Glasses.

7. Lonely prairie graves.

8. Cheap, plentiful, .22 cartridges.

9. Black hair, black eyes, angry lips, and mischievous smiles.

10. Barbie, Iron Man, Halo 3, & baskets on pink bikes.

11. Blowtorches.

What Shall I Do?

2008-05-01T15:05:00.000-07:00

It is time for my annual "big concert."

Which one should I attend?

I am thinking of The Police, Journey, or Candlebox. I am steering towards Journey, as The Goddess told me she would go with me.

If there are others in the Salt Lake area, that you think I would like, let me know.

If only King’s X or King Crimson were touring.

Borinquen

2008-04-01T11:06:00.008-07:00

This is my favorite photo of the whole trip. The Goddess and her brother at the beach that they frequented as children.

Wow.

Just wow.

I recently had one the great experiences of my life. Sorry that I haven’t posted in a while. I have a legitimate excuse. I just spent nearly two weeks in the land of my wife’s ancestors; Puerto Rico. What a beautiful piece of Earth! I can see why Puerto Ricans love their island so much.
The greatest thing I took with me from Puerto Rico was a sense of the "largeness" of our Earth. ‘Tis a good thing to realize our own little boundaries and preconceptions.

The Goddess & yours truly enjoying the sun and sand

These folks were so hospitable. They put all six of us up in their home. They fed us. They drove us anywhere that our hearts desired. They laughed with and at us. They talked of serious and light hearted matters. I learned about a culture and history that is not my own, but I feel a great obligation to understand. I feel like I know my wife better now. I learned so much about what being a family is all about. The idea of taking care of each other and taking time for one another is not lost on them. If you are reading this mi familia, know that I am grateful from my little toe to the tip of my tallest hair for your unmatched hospitality.

The beach. What can I say? Is there a bad beach? Not on Puerto Rico. The weather was perfect. The wildlife was new and exciting. We rode the coast on a Sunday afternoon. Bikers were out in swarms (there are few, if any, Harley snobs there). Live music was playing. Dominicans were frying the finest foods on the sides of the highways. There were political rallies that make ours look like sacrament meeting. Smiling faces and beggars at stop lights. Little Iguanas and big Iguanas. Lizards, lizards, and more lizards. The food was so good, my tongue wanted to slap my face off. Warm rain. Fresh lemonade every stinkin’ mornin’. Happy children and tired eyes. Rich, Old World Spanish culture. Swimming every single day. Folk music (gosh, I love street musicians). Colorful homes. Laid back people who I believe have the capacity to enjoy life better than we do. Ten percent higher cost of living. Horribly dubbed eighties action movies. Hospitality, hospitality, hospitality!!!!

I could write pages and pages. But, it has taken a week and a half to work up this trite post that does little justice to the experience. It was a once in a lifetime event, which cannot be topped. I am so glad that we were able to take all of the kids and the Goddess’ parents and brother’s family. Having them there enriched the experience all the more.

At any rate, go there! It is beautiful beyond description.

This was kind of a rite passage into my newly acquired status of Honorary Puerto Rican. This is as close to Puerto Rican as I'll come because I don't drink or dance! But I did make babies with one......top that!

Blood on My Hands

2008-02-25T09:29:00.001-07:00

I spent the weekend with blood on my hands. I do not say this with some sort of redneck pride, which you must know by now I detest. You see, I raise chickens and rabbits. I do it for a multitude of reasons. Firstly, I like to control (at least to a small degree) the food that my family eats. I think that modern practices of meat processing and commercial farming leaves too much at risk. I did not have to go to PETA’s web site to learn this; I saw it first hand. Secondly, I think it is good for my children to have the responsibility of caring for something. Every day, they have to feed and water the rabbits and chickens. Every so often they get to clean the hutches and coop. And this weekend they participated in the slaughter and butchering of these creatures. Thirdly, raising and eating these animals brings me closer to living.

It is always sobering to kill and should not be taken lightly. I really believe that this is the reason that the Word of Wisdom so strongly emphasized that meat should be eaten sparingly. I found, to my shame, that I am hypocrite in this regard.

The process was not enjoyable. However, it brought a deeper sense of being alive than I experience during the zombie cubicle living routine that I am slowly losing my soul to. As I went through the tedious work of killing, plucking or skinning, gutting and preparing the meat; I couldn’t help but feel that we are all so disconnected from life, we have become californian. Everything we do is canned. From our meat to our entertainment to our architecture. It all comes in neat, sterile packages. There is no emotional exchange that takes place. In other words, when I eat a rabbit that I have raised and butchered, I think about the life that I took so that I could have life; and I eat less and with more reverence. It is the same exchange I feel when eating an animal I have hunted or fish that I have caught.

I mourn that our culture has lost this thing.

I am not ashamed again

2008-01-30T09:38:00.001-07:00

This song was my first exposure to Megadeth and Trent Reznor.

Isn’t that cool?

Now that I have started recording and writing music, I appreciate Reznor’s pioneering talents all the more. As far as Megadeth is concerned; I enjoy them so much more than Metallica. Before I start getting hate mail from metalheads make sure you understand what I am writing here. I like Metallica, but I like Megadeth more. It is as simple as that. No hate. It always has been a ridiculous rivalry.

This little song is an amalgation of Megadeth’s Symphony of Destruction and Trent Reznor’s mixing skills. The Countdown to Extinction CD is Megadeth’s opus. It is one of the few tapes that I managed to wear out.

Mysteriously, this tape disappeared, along with Alice in Chains, Sepultura, and various t-shirts. I wonder where they went......MOM!

The Latest Obsession

2008-01-25T15:56:00.001-07:00

The Professor and Z-man have really gotten me back into video games. It is that damnable Halo! I have gotten myself addicted, and I have drug my family along for the ride.

I have always had an infatuation with video games. My uncles had an Atari 2600 and I spent countless hours fighting with my Ida-bros just to have a chance to play such classics as Pac-man, Pitfall, and Empire Strikes Back. At about this time I and a few other grandkids unearthed an odd Pong system at another set of Grandparents. Hours were consumed on Pong. Then my Momma married Beach Grandpa. Lo and behold! He also had an Atari 2600 that we abused until the power supply input broke off inside of the case. I always managed to find a console at the D.I. and we played many a game of Combat, Asteroids, Circus, Breakout, & Snoopy and the Red Baron. Good times.

My infatuation led to a fascination with computers and later I was playing such greats as Castle Wolfenstein, Dune II, Doom, & Blood. I miss the days of playing from a 5 1/4" floppy! Along came the arduous task known as college and my gaming days were few and far between. All the while, The Professor was tempting me with his N64, Dreamcast, and Xbox. Then I traded a fishing rod for an Xbox. Now I find that a night without at least one round of Dr. Mario on the old game box is a wasted evening. My wife and I refer to it as my "Halo Therapy."

At any rate, a coworker, who shall remain nameless, addicted me to Guitar Hero. It did not help matters that The Professor brought his version of this game during his last jaunt here. My wife, bless her brown little soul, was hopelessly addicted as well. The Professor returned to his castle in Academia, and we had no more Guitar Hero.

Alas! I heard a rumor that one of my scouts had a broken PS2. This was good...because I can fix broken. After a little horse trading, I held in my manly, fat hand one beat up, slightly grimy PS2 Slim. A little solder, some research, some more research, an internet order, some patience, and a little elbow grease was all it took to have this baby playing again. Now the Goddess and I can play Guitar Hero to our hearts content. The kids eat cereal every night, but they’ll last until this obsession runs its course.

The unit all bare naked and stuff, ready for repair.

My trusty aide. He performed quite a bit of the surgery himself. He also reaped the rewards! I am glad that he got to experience the rush of fixing a problem like this. It was a great experience doing this with him.

One of the offending items. The laser assembly. Notorious for failing in the Slim models. It is highly unlikely that this whole unit is bad, I may install just the laser and keep this assembly as a spare.

And we all lived happily ever after.

Perhaps this is too personal?

2008-01-16T10:21:00.000-07:00

I have had the unbelievably good fortune of marrying my first love. She and I met many years before it was proper to date with the object of marriage in mind and somehow we just couldn’t let go of each other. We spent our youth together, and in many ways, we grew to be the same person.

Those of you who know the Goddess, know what an impulsive, passionate, and slightly crazy individual she is. It is one her greatest attractants. If I told her that I wanted to build a cabin in Siberia and live off of the land, she wouldn’t hesitate to see it as an adventure, and we could walk out the door that same minute. I wouldn’t trade her fiery Puerto Rican temper and passion for anything on this Earth.

Her most endearing quality is her unfailing, unflinching, sense of honesty. I have never met a person so honest. Even when it meant certain heartache, she would speak her thoughts. The older I get, I appreciate this sort of thing all the more. The great thing about a person with this attribute is that you always know where you stand.

I just wanted to say something that had a tone of gratitude. My fair wife is something I find myself grateful often these days. She makes life good and bad, but unlivable without her.

We’ve come a long way baby. There no words for where we are.

Achtung! Spoilers Ahead

2008-01-09T08:02:00.000-07:00

Warning! This post is jam packed with spoilers for "No Country for Old Men."

I found some peace in a most unlikely place during the Christmas break. I watched a movie with the Original Voodoo and Whodoggy entitled "No Country for Old Men." The movie was shocking, intensely gripping, and a great letdown (which I loved). This might be one of the most perfect movies ever made.

As I have perused the internets for the insight of others. There seems to be one scene that has become controversial. It is the scene where the old sheriff Ed Tom Bell returns to the scene of the crime where Moss was killed. I think that the simplest answer is the answer. I believe the Chigurh is really behind the door, and Ed Tom Bell simply missed finding him. If Ed Tom Bell would have looked behind the door, violence would have ensued, most likely resulting in the death of the sheriff. A .38 is no match for buck shot at close range and Chigurh would have simply shot through the door, having the advantage of surprise and superior firepower.

Back to this idea of me finding peace from this here violent movie. Simply put; it was Chigurh, who I think represents the uncertainty of death that we all face. There was a thread of rhyme and reason to his killing, but one thing it was not, was fair. Just like death, it never seems fair. Every character I was rooting for, was killed in this movie. Except for Ed Tom Bell, and I wasn’t really invested in him until the very last lines of the film. Moss was toasted by the Mexicans. Moss’ wife was killed by Chigurh. By the way, she was a true heroine, most unlike the super-acrobatic-invincible-skanks I so loathe in most newer movies (think Keira Knightley in King Arthur). She faced death without bargaining. I fell in love with her simple, resolute bravery. The only person I really wanted dead in this movie was death himself; Chigurh. And he never does die. Ed Tom Bell never catches him and fades into what seems to be a contented retirement. Life never was meant to be fair, and I found a granule of peace in the portrayal of that fact in this movie.

I never got my way when it came to this story, and I say that it’s about time.

The Land of Milk and Honey and Ice.

2007-11-28T13:49:00.000-07:00

I went home this month. I went to where my first memories were spawned. I lived for a good deal of my childhood in this cold place. I also spent many a summer there, until adulthood. I caught some fantastic fish in the Snake and baskets full of suckers out of the Teton. Those summers were great days– summer crushes on much older college students (don’t ask, I’ll never tell), building rockets, way too many chores, eccentric college students, motorcycle rides, never ending MTV (especially Headbangers Ball), fights with the “locals,” library reading programs, movies at both old theaters, getting caught stealing at Food Center, building motorcycles, swimming nearly every day, the city water slide (a lame sprinkler park?), homemade Ninja weapons with my crazy Rexburg brothers, fights with my crazy Rexburg brothers, going to work with Dad (how’d you pull that off?); I could go on and on. The Rexburg area has been good to me. I went there after my flop of a mission and healed my troubled soul a bit. I miss this place more than any other.

So, my family and I went home for Thanksgiving. A good time was had by all. It was good to see some of the local landmarks that are tied to my heart. It was even gooder to see everyone.

This is the Teton, it meanders through my Grandmother's property, I was so sure that I would find a super-secret trout hole there. I still cling to this delusion, even after hordes and hordes of suckers and whitefish.

I used to dream of restoring this old stinker. Maybe someday, most likely not. OK, not ever.

My favorite memory of this trip. Going to the Izcalli. By an odd coincidence, Rexburgers who I have never met, read this on occasion. You must go here, it is delicious.

The kids had Wendy's disgustorama instead of Izcalli's and stayed in the Trooper, they preferred this because of the toys in their Kids Meal.

I especially enjoyed the great view of my old friends, the Teton peaks, as I drove to St. Anthony to meet an underworld character who I will post about later. I did not get a picture and I regret it. Those stunning mountains have enamored me since I was just a wee lad.

Here's to cousins.

I am not ashamed II

2007-11-20T09:23:00.001-07:00

In a much earlier post I listed my favorite guitar solos. It was a fun post because everyone commented on their favorite guitar work. If you recall, I thought that the best rock solo was by Vernon Reed of Living Color in the song “Cult of Personality.” It is the kind of guitar work that one either loves or hates. The video above is a live version of that song done on The Arsenio Hall Show a very, very, long time ago. It is a raw version of the song, and the solo, while not completely dissimilar to the recorded version, is not the same. I like the this version of the song as well as the recorded solo because it is very jazzy and betrays Reed’s jazz roots. I’m not sure people who don’t play guitar will appreciate it. Enjoy.

Weekend Report

2007-11-14T11:41:00.000-07:00

This last weekend was interesting. The Goddess and I got out on the town without the stinkers. I believe that this is the second time since our first child was born (10 years ago) that we have been on an overnight date. We didn’t do anything super exciting. Some good friends came along to keep us company. It was an evening of fine conversation and exquisite food.

We enjoyed the grub at Tucanos, a posh Brazilian meat house in the river bottoms of Provo. It is in a strip mall area that is awash with falseness. The kind of place that you could cruise for stupid rich girls when you were a teenager. The kind of place that gives meaning to the lives of the insecure. It is where someone goes that doesn’t know how to live. And I was there eating meat. And it tasted like Prometheus was in the kitchen. Delectable.

We stayed at the Days Inn and the next morning went shopping at some of the Goddess’ usual haunts. This time we ate at The Gallo Giro in Provo. This place is the real deal. If you are ever in Provo, you need to eat there.

Soon thereafter, we went to Grandma’s and got our kids, whom we missed. Sunday morning was Stake Conference (or better known as No Church Day). Some folks get all worked up about missing Stake Conference. I don’t consider being stuck in a hot building with 1000 other people, taking kids to the bathroom, taking cranky toddlers into an overcrowded waiting room, and barely hearing the message for two hours, a spiritual experience. It is an exercise for a zealot and I leave angry. My attitude is likely to change as my stinkers get older. Don’t worry, I am not doomed to apostasy; just good old pragmatism (the enemy of zealots everywhere).

All in all it was a nice weekend.

I am not ashamed

2007-10-31T13:24:00.000-07:00

Before you laugh, let me explain a few things. This was the most unjustly attacked band of the early 90's. The guitarist, Reb Beach, was one of my teenage musical idols. If you listen to both solos with an open mind, you’ll hear why. Grifter, you may recognize the dude on the skins. I still think Kip Winger has a great voice. If you remember, this was the band that Beavis and Butthead’s moron friend really liked. That was the beginning of the end for their spotlight. Lars Ulrich liked to take pot shots at them as well. With all due respect, I think that Lars could learn a thing or five from Rod Morgenstein. At any rate, enjoy.....and you can laugh now.

The Summer of my Unencumbrance

2007-10-29T12:54:00.000-07:00

Too often I acquire projects, especially if they are of a mechanical nature. Over my college years, I found quite a few projects. The idea was that when I finished college, I would magically have oodles and oodles of time to restore, repair, rebuild, etc. During classes, I found my mind wandering to magical restoration land, wherein I solved various and sundry mechanical maladies. I saw in my minds eye (to use church argot) myself as the weird guy that drove his weird motorcycle/truck/car through town and turned the stunned heads of my fellow villagers. What I really became was the super stressed out guy that maintained a fleet of motorcycles, three wheelers, cars, trucks, SUVs, go-karts, rabbits, chickens, and a 102 year old home with a 60 year old coal furnace. Don’t let me forget to mention my church callings!

I had an epiphany while talking to my boss one day. She said, “People with so many projects don’t realize how much energy they put into keeping all of that stuff.” So true. I never had time to enjoy any of them, because I could only afford to do the bare minimum. Most of my motorcycles were never even touched. In fact, I felt suffocated by the very things that were suppose to bring me joy.

I must admit that this little realization caused me to be ruthless to some of my machines. You see, they were hurting me and I was a bad master. It was like that cute puppy you bought and now you don’t have time to love. And the puppy has a problem known as a butthole. And that butthole poops everywhere. And you have to clean the poop. What I am really trying to say is that my machines have metaphorical buttholes.

Metaphorical Butthole #1
1970 Suzuki TS125II Stinger. I had some real hangups parting ways with this one. I love the lines on this bike. The picture you see here is not mine. The picture is of a bike that is restored.

Metaphorical Butthole #2
1973 Kawasaki F11 Enduro. The hills of Eureka won’t be the same without you.

Metaphorical Butthole #3
1973 Yamaha DT250. This was another classic. Alas, I have other, better toys to play with.

Metaphorical Butthole #4
There was also an old go-kart frame, which I chopped in half and threw in a dumpster. Goodbye and good riddins.

Metaphorical Butthole #5
In addition, there were quite a few bikes and assorted parts that made their way to my trash can.

Well, I’m not quite finished getting rid of stuff, but I am well on my way. Wish me luck in this endeavor. It has been a relief encumbering myself no more. I find that after each of the offending items is removed, I feel peace and breathe a little easier.

“The things you own end up owning you.” Tyler Durden

Dream Theater - Instrumedly (Live At Budokan)

2007-09-27T22:38:00.001-07:00

There is no better band when it comes to pure musicality than these guys. I dare you to count the mode changes, key changes and time signature changes.
Please take the time to listen to this on a set of headphones or good speaker system. It is 12 minutes long, so plan ahead. I could barely breathe after I heard it the first time. What else can I say? I wish I had the skills of both Mike Portnoy and John Petrucci.

Not Another Project!

2007-09-19T14:13:00.000-07:00

This little gem is a 1973 Honda CT70. I picked it up for an undisclosed amount from a fellow Eurekan. It is going to be our new project. A while back, I got on this kick to build a go-kart. My oldest son and I (in the red shirt) drew up some plans based upon 20" BMX bikes. It was going to be awesome. We even put a bulletin up at the post office stating our need of old bicycles. We received around ten. Including some sweet GT frames, which we just rebuilt for my two boys.

Unfortunately, things began to go awry. I just couldn’t make the design not clunky and nasty looking. Not to mention the amount of usable steel on the bike frame was a lot less than I had originally anticipated. So, we decided against pursuing the go-kart/bicycle idea further. But, I still had a promise to keep.

I went to the local motorcycle guru here in Eureka and he had this thing rusting in his yard. After a little bartering, it was mine. I think it is the perfect setup for me and mine. The bike is a dual sport. Meaning that it is legal both on and off street. It is an automatic, good for the Goddess, and beginning riders. The best part of the deal is that there is an unlimited amount of parts to be had, because they are being reproduced by a Chinese corporation. This includes a 125cc motor that can take this steel pony to speeds of over 70 mph. Tempting, but I don’t like the idea of a ten year old riding that fast (or even half that fast).

Lately I have been reading Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. I recommend this book heartily. The best part of this project is that it fits right into my idea of quality in so many ways. I will be learning how this bike works extensively because every part will be taken off and inspected. We have already begun stripping it down to the frame. My boy likes the idea of "militarizing" it. As a result of this, we purchased a special gunsmithing paint in olive drab. Stay tuned, but don’t hold your breath. Our estimated finish time is the spring.

This Isn't Really a Post

2007-09-19T07:15:00.000-07:00

This isn't really a post. I'm cookin' up a new one, it'll be hot and ready soon. I just wanted to let all who care that I have added a few pictures to some previous posts...... if you care to look.

Paul Gilbert of Mr. Big Fame

2007-09-13T13:54:00.001-07:00

I loved his version of this. If you remember the original, you'll realize how different this remake of it is. I love how he is singing whilst tapping during the chorus. It's just sick how he can do that! Enjoy.

An ode to Whodoggy and Ibid

2007-09-06T10:50:00.001-07:00

This song reminded me of you two. Since you goofs are the same age, and have a lot of the same tastes which are tragically acoustic.

Flymo

2007-08-30T12:25:00.000-07:00

A few of you may remember this thing.

Simply put; it was the bane of my summer existence. This was suppose to be the latest whiz-bang sophistication of lawn mowing in the '80s. It wasn't. The Flymo should have been named the Dragmo, because I would just drag it across our Rexburg lawn whilst cursing my Dad for making me perform feats of manual labor.

I think back now about my chores and that damnable chalkboard that magically assigned them, and I find myself amused and a little ashamed. I am amused because the chores seemed like they were impossible to get done. They were my own personal Everest. I am ashamed because I could drag out a chore like mowing the lawn, which took, at most, 30 minutes. Only two hours and fifty-nine minutes later I would finish a shoddy job; pissed and winded from the work of avoiding work.

Back to my Dad, the Flymo, and cursing. I would mow the lawn and because the motor was so noisy I would vent my frustrations verbally. My language would have done a Sailor proud. The part that still makes me chuckle is that I could see my Dad watching me....and laughing! This, of course, just infuriated me at the time and so I would cuss louder and with extra vulgarity. His reaction was only to laugh harder.

I love this memory now.

I get to relive it with my own children, and I find myself laughing when they lose thier silly tempers.

Such is fatherhood...I guess.

Crazy Kid

2007-08-22T08:18:00.001-07:00

My daughter was in Bible school a few weeks back. One of the things they were doing was making homemade cards for soldiers.

Inside the card she wrote, "Good News! You’re still alive!"

This is the same kid that when asked what she wanted to be when she grew up, she responded with, "A banana or a Rainbow Maker."

I love it. A little ray of sunshine in a rainy world.

Einstein - Kids in the Hall

2007-08-20T15:37:00.001-07:00

The Kids in the Hall - Trapper

2007-08-20T15:36:00.001-07:00

This reminds me of summer nights in Rexburg. I loved this show.

2007-08-08T12:25:00.000-07:00

Rush was a great experience.

Neil was spot on as always. I kept thinking as I was listening and watching, "This is surreal, that is Neil Peart down there and he is really playing and I am watching and gee whiz that roll was awesome." Among other things. His kit was a brilliant red. There was a camera directly over his head and it was a treat to watch him execute in such detail. He completely revamped the solo that he has played in one variation or another the last few years. He still switched kits, but the electronic kit sounded like nothing I’ve heard. He did an ode to swing that was much longer than the solo found on the Rio DVD or Different Strings. My friend, the music teacher, went with me and loved this part of the concert. Mainly because there were horns playing...stinking horns! It was obvious that the drum solo was a tribute to Buddy Rich (who really was the master). I never saw the professor smile.

Alex played well. He didn’t switch axes very often. He was playing what I believe was a customized Les Paul with a Floyd Rose and all the goodies. He also played a white hollow body of sorts. He sounded great. I think that he wasn’t mixed well, (see my last paragraph). He seems to be the goofiest one of them and the most likely to dance around and stuff. He had his row of toy dinosaurs on his amps. Again, the camera work was most appreciated by those of us in the poor seats, or poor lawn area rather. I even got a little insight on how to play the intro to Spirit of the Radio thanks to the cheating camera. It is a crying shame how underrated Alex is by the masses. Some never seem to get their due.

Geddy owned the show. This guy knows his bass biblically. He stole the show with his bass and keyboard skills. I was blown away that he could play both instruments and sing for three and a half hours. He was also the sense of humor behind the show, which is important. He really shined during some of the newer stuff like The Main Monkey Business and especially Malignant Narcissism. He also didn’t switch instruments very often. I think that he played two different Jazz basses for the duration of the show.

The highlights of the show were Passage to Bangkok, Tom Sawyer, Malignant Narcissism, Freewill, Spirit of the Radio, Subdivisions, and The Main Monkey Business. Really, I enjoyed every song though. This was by far the loudest thing I have ever endured. In fact, we moved to the back of the venue out of sheer pain. Finally, my friend found a used napkin that we shredded and stuffed in our ears in desperation. I should have expected this, it was a rock concert after all, but never again without ear plugs. I don’t remember Van Halen being that loud. It has been two days since the sonic assault and my ears are still ringing.

Sorry Grifter, they did not play The Trees or Red Barchetta, but I hardly noticed. And I love those songs.

Well, it’s one huge venue concert a year for me and this one was worth every penny. Until next year......

Helmet

2007-08-02T14:08:00.001-07:00

This brings back such great memories. This performance is awesome. So tight.

2007-07-30T14:22:00.000-07:00

Thank God for every breath.

I picked up a case of Walking Pneumonia a few weeks back. I hope you guys can forgive me for not posting. I found this experience coupled with the recent tragedy in my little community most sobering. The weight of death and its certainty has just brought me so down. Time is a cruel thing. Life is too fragile and I understand so little about it. Just that I love it and fear its end.

Suddenly, parenting is almost too much, because the loss of a child seems unbearable. Suddenly, my relations aren’t close enough. Suddenly, my friends mean more and some acquaintances mean less. I waste so much of my precious time. And worse yet, I know these feelings will fade in a way and I secretly want them to. I wish life could be the even time signature that I am used to. I will never be the same...once again. Change is good, but it also hurts. I need peace, and it seems so hard to find.

Oh, and I swear a blood oath to you that this will never become a video blog, but I will be posting videos off and on.

2007-07-19T10:27:00.000-07:00

Chaucer and Dad and J.R. and anyone else who care to chime in-

This is an emergency and sorta’ awkward.

If you had the choice to see Dream Theater or Rush, but not both, who would you choose and why? I have seen neither. I would value your opinion. My apologies if this is inappropriate. I’m not sure what constitutes proper etiquette on these things anyway. Many thanks.

King Crimson

2007-07-18T00:21:00.001-07:00

There is an awful lot going on in this song. One of my favorites. Also, I am trying to figure out how to post videos.

2007-07-09T09:59:00.000-07:00

Dear Damsel in Distress,

I miss you. Where have you gone? It seems that in every movie that you have been in lately, my gender can no longer rescue you. Also, where did you learn Kung Fu?

Why the spinning round house? Why the ‘tude? Why the anger? Why the masculine muscley muscles? Was it V.I.P? That utter tripe. Was it Barb Wire? Was it the disproportionate fighting chicks in Street Fighter and its ilk? Was it Seven of Nine?

I don’t know when you changed. It wasn't that long ago. I miss the girl next door: vulnerable, non-butt kicking character you once were. I wish you would put a little meat on the bones, and unlearn the kung-fu. I wish your body was normal and you were fine with it. I wish your lips and chin weren’t pumped full of goo. I wish you were sweet: instead of the harsh war-scarred attitude you’ve had of late. I wish you didn’t look like a Bratz doll and I wish my daughter didn’t think that you were pretty. You’re not.

You have covered up your vulnerability and replaced sweetness with testosterone. A strong woman is not necessarily the one with the capability to pull off a flying roundhouse.

I miss you.

G-man

2007-07-03T10:10:00.001-07:00

Eureka lost one of her daughters on Saturday.

May your brown eyes brighten heaven the way they brightened our community.

Farewell little one.

2007-06-26T12:52:00.000-07:00

Some random musical ramblings.

Robert Fripp is a genius. Aside from wasting a ton of time this weekend, I have reinforced this musical maxim. King Crimson are just so spanking good at what they do. I can’t help but love prog, it never gets old. I watched an old video of Elephant Talk on the mighty Youtube, it is most impressive.

The only bad part is that I feel torn between Belew and Fripp as a guitarist and then watching the incomparable Bruford; he makes me need to pound the skins so bad I can hardly stand it. I wish I did not love both instruments. I’m really not that good at either, but I do enjoy myself. If you like prog rock, check out King Crimson. Also, check out a group called Aphrodite’s Child. I am still getting used to them, but I love Four Horsemen (Thanks Joneseph and DZ).

Van Halen is in a continual state of letting me down. After yet another botched reunion attempt that ended in failure, I think I am done with these jokers. I hope that Edward can beat his addictions, he is unique; I just hope he doesn’t leave us unnecessarily early. Mike Anthony has been replaced by a 15 year old, which is just wrong. The Van Halens snubbed the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. David Lee Roth didn’t even show up. What a disgrace. To top off the insanity, Velvet Revolver wouldn’t play Jump. I didn’t know it was Velvet Revolver being inducted, why did they have a say in the matter!! They so totally screwed up Runaround that I was speechless. I could have farted the song better than they played it. What an utter wasted opportunity. Imagine if the original lineup had walked out on stage and played "Ain’t Talkin’ ‘Bout Love and Jump and then Sam Hagar came out and sang Right Now and Amsterdam. That would have been classy and shocking. At least Sammy and Mike were gentlemen enough to mention the rest of the band in civil terms. This may be the most botched induction in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame’s short history. It was worse than the Blondie debacle.

My little letter to Eddie: Dude, a porn star girlfriend? Making soundtracks for porn? You are Eddie Van Halen! You are the father of modern guitar, among the likes of Jimi Hendrix. You are not some starvin’ street guitarist. I am sure you could put out solo music, I’d buy it. Hell, tell Alex to put out a solo album! Why? Why? Why? You need to go on a long motorcycle ride alone, I mean for weeks. Or a wildlife retreat, with jerky, beans, and dried fruit. And I mean somewhere wild, not some Californian rich boy getaway. Purge the pampered rich guy from your system and become hungry again. The world misses you.

2007-06-12T07:57:00.000-07:00

I was recently forcibly baptized into the world of Indie music. A friend (who shall remain anonymous) had me listen to a playlist of 102 songs. I had only heard maybe 3 of the bands on the playlist. I admit that it was a scary experience to step away from my usual progressive rock fare such as Rush, Dream Theater, and King’s X. Usually, I need a lot going on in my music for me to enjoy it, and I wasn’t sure about Indie stuff and its acoustic oddball simplicity. Let us not forget the usual snobbery expressed by the purveyors of evil Indie music.

So much for my expectations. For the most part I truly enjoyed myself. And I even heard one song that was a spiritual experience. I consider this most fortuitous, yeah even serendipitous. I estimate the odds of finding a song so moving to be one in a thousand, and I was able to find this diamond in a playlist of 102 songs. As usual, my perspective has been broadened and once more I will never be the same.

What was the song you ask? It was The Trapeze Swinger by Iron & Wine. Not the studio production, but the Itunes exclusive live cut. When I first heard this song I think my heart stopped beating, my eyes misted, and my mind filled with the rushing sounds, smells, and raw emotions of young love. Thank you Mr. Beam and your lovely sister too.

Why do we limit ourselves so often? There is a whole ‘nother world out there.

I ask you friends, family, and acquaintances. What have been your musical surprises?

2007-05-30T14:48:00.000-07:00

Jaime,

If you read this again please e-mail us. We have lost your contact information.

2007-05-30T14:43:00.001-07:00

This weekend was fantastic! I worked hard, which always feels rewarding. I like it when work is where I rest and home is where I work. I even enjoyed a few epiphanies.

It started off kinda’ crappy. The Goddess tried and failed to start the ever temperamental Trooper. She ended up hitching a ride to dance classes. I then tried to start it, and walked away in a state of total discouragement. I didn’t even mess with the thing for the rest of the night, such was my dismal attitude.

Friday morning seemed promising. The Trooper mysteriously started. The Goddess and I drove around town for a few minutes running errands. At the post office it died an undignified death. I walked home and towed it back with the Warhorse (Bronco II). A quick check with a spark tester betrayed the problem; almost certainly the ignition control module. It is a common problem with this particular GM ignition system. I am grateful it failed somewhere close. I was bummed. I didn’t really want to spend Memorial Day weekend fixing something. It turned out to be only about an hour of work.

Saturday was spent carving up the landscaping of my tiny, manageable yard. There were flowers planted aplenty.

Sunday, oh terrible Sunday. Church is always too early (and too often). I am woefully lazy. Yet, during the festivities of the second hour a strange thing happened. It began with my friend Darth Boecks whisking me into the Family History Room. From there, he proceeded to interrogate me, asking me lewd and specific questions about my ancestry. It turned out to be pretty fascinating. Later after the festivities were over, I went home and called Whodoggy, and we were pulled into the dark side of family history. The trouble was neither of us could remember our paternal great-grandfather’s name. One of us made the brilliant decision to get Original Voodoo on the tele with us (using the space age technology known as a conference call). He expanded our knowledge of the family name and all was good and well. Then it happened.....Whodoggy noticed it (damn him).....our parents are 5th cousins!!!!! There you have it. One could say I have been baptized again, because basically everything I’ve ever done wrong or stupidly happened because I am the product of an incestuous relationship!!

Thanks Mom, thanks Dad for the straight shot to heaven.

Monday dawned a new day. Have you ever noticed how a lot of movies for kids feature the promise breaking Dad? Yeah, well that’s me. One of my offending promises was a tree house that I started building 2 years ago. My poor kids, my ambitions were greater than my capacity to deliver. This weekend I fulfilled my promise. My children and I constructed the tree house. And it is a good house, built upon the rock of my belated kept promise. It features such things as a hardwood floor (2 x 4's), windows (without glass), 2 levels (there really is no 1st level), a great view (of a tree), and a natural wood finish (weathered scrap wood). They love it!
Woe is me and my overactive conscience.

2007-05-10T06:31:00.000-07:00

Hopefully the danger has past. Comments are now instantaneous, so please leave them.

2007-05-10T06:27:00.001-07:00

I should have walked in UVSC’s graduation ceremony on the 27th . The fact is, I just didn’t care to. After all those years it just felt like one more thing I was making myself do in the name of my diploma. I am a little saddened that I didn’t see my professors one last time, but I think I was an average face in a sea of students anyway. Originally, I was going to walk so that my children would see it. You know....... it’s for the children. Then the thought occurred to me that they actually had to live the process! So, a boring commencement probably wouldn’t drive the point home.

At any rate, our commencement wasn’t nearly the deal it was for my friends at our rival school down the road. It was Kevin Rollins, the CEO dude from Dell who spoke at our ceremony. Incidentally, I think it was the same guy that spoke at my brother’s ceremony (will you check on that bro?). Up the road at the BYU, the VP of the USA enlightened the valley with his glow. It was a good choice for him to come here. As controversial as it was, it probably would have been more so anywhere else. Alas, I was working during the thing.

Speaking of my alma mater, it will be changing formats and becoming Utah Valley University July 1st of next year. This is all good and well, and makes me very happy because it has been a long hard fight. It is a sad thing, but Utah culture finds very little value in education. Sure, our legislators will deny it, but their actions have ALWAYS told a different story. For far too long they looked at UVSC as BYU’s junior college. Kudos to Presidents Sederburg and Romesburg for a hard fought win.

Just think, now there is at least one place in Utah Valley where unhampered, academic, critical thought can take place.

I’m sorry, I just had to. You know how us high-schoolers at UVSC have a chip on our shoulder.

2007-04-26T16:41:00.002-07:00

There is nothing quite so narcissistic as making a mix CD - DZ

2007-04-26T16:41:00.001-07:00

As I’ve gotten older I find myself leaning more and more to the left when it comes to most things political. It is an odd position to be in considering how utterly conservative I’ve been in the past. I look forward to the yearly ritual of reading Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand. Heck, I was listening to Rush Limbaugh when I was in eighth grade. I discovered him all by my lonesome while messing around with an AM radio one summer morning. And I still like him. I think that he, above all others, articulates the layman’s conservative philosophy best. I enjoy Michael Savage and G. Gordon Liddy’s shows for their grittiness and wit. Incidentally, I like Al Franken for the same reason. Sean Hannity showed his true colors when he visited my alma mater a few years back and doesn’t get a second of my listening time.
Alas, I have spent too many hours these long years studying history and I have slowly turned away from conservative philosophy. I haven’t turned my back on it, but there are things I shall never believe in again.
So, there it is. Shocked? Will you never read this little blog again? Are some of you gearing up to disown me? I didn’t think so.
I am not a true liberal by any definition. I won’t vote strictly along party lines. I must confess that this state, from the original theocracy to the current Republican monopoly, has had lousy government. I chalk that up to a political party that has never had any real challenge and therefore no real accountability. So in Utah, I vote anything but Republican. Some say I am a sinner.
The problem is that there are only two real options on the ballot and I don’t totally agree with either. I hate gun control, I love the environment and think we have a responsibility to it, I detest corporate welfare and think it is the end of the free market, I like small business, I think that copyright law is outdated and the RIAA is a sanctioned mafia, I am weary of middle class shrinkage, I think that eminent domain and the recent supreme court travesty is horrid, I could care less about the supposed "character" of our leaders (history backs me up on this one), I think the National Guard and the Reserves are depended upon far too much to enforce INTERNATIONAL policy, I like Ted Nugent and Megadeth and Rage Against the Machine, I think that Dick Cheney should be allowed to speak at the BYU and that people have a right to protest his politics, blah, blah, blah, etc., etc., and finally etc.
I will vote as an individual because I am an individual.

2007-04-18T11:35:00.000-07:00

So, Richard Dutcher is leaving. I can’t say I am wholly surprised. Art and Mormon culture seem almost incompatible. I wish him well. I have loved every movie he’s made. I especially think that States of Grace was packed full of meaning. In fact, it was one of the better movies of the year.
He really is the Godfather of the Mormon film genre. I found his movies to be a breath of fresh air in a culture that has gone stale. I await Fallen and think that he is alone in uncharted territory with the subject matter of the movie.
In the meantime, I’ve got an idea. Why don’t we all just do our best to be Christian and not make any misguided or zealous judgement calls. Why don’t we smile and genuinely mean it when we happen upon circumstances like these or when dealing with someone not of our faith or who has left our faith. You know, live by example. We should pay attention to the old adage that we should never miss an opportunity to keep our mouths shut. There are far too many cowards who share the Mormon religion and have a lot of nasty, mean things to say about Dutcher. They seem to be overly concerned with being good Mormons and end up being lousy Christians (thanks DZ!).

As Mormons we can be better.

Be nice, be happy, love much.

2007-04-16T17:34:00.000-07:00

.......it is better to tell an R-rated truth than a G-rated lie.
Richard Dutcher

2007-04-16T14:14:00.000-07:00

Now that I am not eating, breathing, and crapping school. I’ve tried to reignite some old hobbies. The first which is playing the guitar. I’ve got a cool looking strat knockoff that my Pop built me many moons ago. I just love this thing. He built it with just a humbucker and a volume knob. I think he did this because of my love of Edward Van Halen’s famed brown tone and the single humbucker, one volume pot Frankenstrat that he played. He even strung it with the same guage strings that Van Halen used. It has been an awesome axe.
As far as tone, the guitar has the twang that is heard by most strats (I can hear all of the Les Paul players snicker). However, I am from the early 90's, late 80's school of playing and I like a sound that has a lot of treble and bass, with just a little mids. So, a Strat style sound through a Mesa Boogie style rectifier is right up my alley. Besides, with amp modeling technology these days, I can achieve the tone of my deepest desires with almost any axe.
The old girl needs a little fixing. When I am strumming or picking, if I strike the volume knob the guitar will go silent until I smack the volume knob again. Also, sometimes when I flex the tremolo, I’ll hit the volume knob causing the same problem. I think I am going to replace and move the volume pot. At the very least, I’ll be replacing it. I also really, really need to give her a bath. I may or may not install a Floyd Rose tremolo system on this. I swore those off a long time ago, but I just love their capabilities too much to give up on them. Mark my words, one day one of my electric axes will have a Floyd Rose or the like.
Sorry, no pictures yet, my digital camera has been a blessing, but at the same time, it is a finicky old dog.
Incidentally, you can buy a copy of Van Halen’s original axe from Fender, its only $25,000!!

2007-04-16T14:01:00.000-07:00

Sorry to hear of Kurt Vonnegut's passing. He couldn't have lived long enough or cranked out enough writing to satisfy me.

2007-04-02T11:46:00.000-07:00

I cannot convey the real sadness I felt upon learning of Jeff Cooper’s death. Every month I awaited Cooper’s Commentaries. I even used his writing as a tool to help me with my schooling. I would read a little Cooper before writing a paper. I loved how he referred to himself as "we." It was so aristocratic, but not snobbish for the sake of snobbery. How I would hope that a little of his wonderful prose would rub off.

Cooper was a harvester of excellence. I found his words inspiring. He was so much more than the father of modern pistol fighting. His writing hearkened me back to a time of simple chivalry and order that probably never existed on a huge scale, but ought to have. Cooper also was a philosopher of the highest caliber. Anyone who read his work for any period of time could see that the point was rarely about guns.

Fair winds and following seas Marine.

If you'd like to read some of Jeff Cooper's works they can be found here:

http://dvc.org.uk/jeff/

2007-03-26T10:44:00.000-07:00

I spent the weekend with Beach Grandpa building bunk beds for my stinkers. I am so grateful for the ability to build and fix things with my own hands. There is something holy about making or repairing things.
The bunk beds turned out very nice, in fact, they were nicer than I expected. The wood looks and smells good. They are sturdy enough for my wife and I to sleep on the top bunk. They are miles ahead of the crap-mart press board bunk beds which are selling for around 200 dollars.
Another advantage of building these beds was the low cost. We were able to build something in the $400-$500 range for around 130$.
The best part of the whole deal was the memories made & the memories revisited. When I was a boy, my Grandad built some bunk beds for my brothers. In fact, he built all sorts of things, including a small mill for making his own lumber. He was one of a kind and dabbled in some interesting mechanical contraptions. One of the coolest oddities I remember him tinkering with was a small tractor that ran off of steam. He was taken from us far too early by Alzheimers. I wish so much that I could have learned more from him before he passed on.
I felt that I communed with Granddad this weekend as I fashioned something for my children. And I hope that they will appreciate and feel the love of Fathers, Grandfathers, & Great-grandfathers as they dream of silly kid stuff.

By the way, I got the plans on the web. If you are interested they can be found here:

http://shoppingmatchmaker.com/freebedplans.htm

2006-12-13T22:13:00.000-07:00

Well I’m done. I earned my letters. I officially finished my BS in History Education. It was a long road, but with the help of so many of you, I have finished. I’m sorry about the delay in posting. I had made a personal vow not to post until I was finished with this semester. At any rate, I am working for Autozone again. It feels so right to be working again! More to come…..

2006-07-14T09:58:00.000-07:00

http://filmfreakcentral.net/screenreviews/supermanreturns.htm

Ya, what he said. Actually, I don't put much stock in critics, but he put it best.

I took my stinkers to Superman Returns yesterday. Bryan Singer knows comic books. This was a beautiful movie. I loved they many, many nods to the old movies and comic books that Singer threw in. He made Superman into a mythological God. I thought it was a great film, what do you think?

2006-07-10T11:18:00.000-07:00

I've got a lot of hand written entries to this blog that need posting. I'll begin with this one.

The Easter Bunny brought my kids the new Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. I wasn't sure how this flick would turn out with Tim Burton directing. Don't get me wrong. I absolutely love Burton's movies. In fact, I don't think he has made anything that I don't like. Most especially the magnificent Pee Wee's Big Adventure. But Charlie and the Chocolate Factory? I was not so sure about this one.

I laughed my can off!

I loved this flick and thanks be to the Easter Bunny for having faith in the good Tim. Most especially I loved Missi Pyle's performance as the super shallow and over competitive Scarlet Beauregarde. She would make a great Utah valley mother, most likely from the Alpine/Highland area. Burton captured her making some of the funniest facial expressions ever.
I had a great time watching it with my kids while we ate chocolate Easter eggs.

Tell me what you think. Did you like or dislike it?

2006-05-22T09:19:00.000-07:00

I'm back. Sorry about the wait. Finals sort of sucked the life out of me.

First off, a huge atta' boy to my little bro' Whodoggy....excuse me, Master Whodoggy.
Good job little brother and sister-in-law! They don't give away Masters Degrees at BYU and yours was hard earned and well deserved.
Well done. Onwards and upwards.

2006-03-14T13:36:00.000-07:00

Here is something to ponder. Since I am a guitarist, I need to ask the question; what is the greatest guitar on a song you have ever heard? Notice I did not say guitar solo, but if it is a solo that is perfectly alright. My ideas of a great song change all of the time, so don't be afraid of saying something you won't agree with later. Here are my favorites at this time.

Greatest guitar solo ever (and I mean forever and ever and ever): Cult of Personality-by Living Colour specifically Vernon Reid

Honorable Mention: Guitar solo on Comfortably Numb-by Pink Floyd specifically David Gilmour

Great songs:
"Subdivisions" Rush
"Aenema" Tool
"Ain't Talkin' 'Bout Love" Van Halen
"5150" Van Halen
The entire Cream reunion DVD
The entire "Rush in Rio" DVD
"Pleiades" King's X
"Papa was a Rolling Stone" The Temptations
The Messiah in a live music setting (alright, I've never experienced the Messiah live, but I know it would be awesome!)

2006-03-09T16:49:00.000-07:00

There is good news and bad news.

There are more people reading this than I thought and that is good news.

The bad news is that I have to moderate comments now. I guess I have a case of e-growing pains. Please, don't hesitate to leave comments. Just keep in mind that they won't be published until after I read them.

I once lost an election to a card draw (weird huh!) My opponent, who incidentally turned out to be as passionate about things as I was, pulled a queen and I drew a seven. Though I had never played cards in my life, I had a fairly good idea that a queen beats a seven, but I wasn't completely sure and I wasn't about to do a victory dance or give a losers handshake. So, I waited (about 5 seconds) until the proper authorities declared me the loser. After the hoopla a journalist asked me what I was thinking after drawing a seven and I told her that I wasn't sure who had won. She exaggerated the story in the paper and voila.... instant idiot. People I don't know made fun of me and said some rather nasty things. If you know my real name go ahead and google it, there might still be residue of my 15 minutes of fame and idiocy. It is an easy thing to talk smack, especially anonymously on the internet. Unfortunately, it is the mark of a coward and has infected my tiny little blog.

So, if you're the one talking smack on my blog kindly piss off.

Legitimate gripes will be addressed, heck maybe even debated.

Self-righteous (you know who you are) insulting smack will never see the light of day.

2006-03-01T15:13:00.000-07:00

I have been working for some time on a History Education degree at Utah Valley State College. I am a senior now and hopefully I will finish the confounded thing by this Christmas. At any rate, throughout the years I’ve grown close to a few other students and professors.

Here are a few of my instructors:

http://www.uvsc.edu/profpages/view.cfm?user=10001329 Meet Professor Snedegar, or as he prefers Keith. This is my all time favorite professor. He teaches in what I call “English lecture.” When I am in his class I feel like I am at a prestigious university in a far off land. His knowledge is a mile wide and a mile deep.

http://www.uvsc.edu/profpages/view.cfm?user=10008272 This old guy is a walking legend on campus. He only speaks 15 or so languages and has forgotten more history than I’ll ever learn. If you have the opportunity to be confused in his classes for a semester, consider yourself blessed.

http://www.uvsc.edu/profpages/view.cfm?user=10001727 The ever controversial Professor Bennett. She will pull the rug out from under you and then make you remember why. Her class was an immense challenge and a grand learning experience.

http://www.uvsc.edu/profpages/view.cfm?user=10001426 If you think I’m a crappy writer now you should read the crap I wrote before Kat Brown’s grueling class. She IS the teacher who teaches history majors to write at UVSC. She has a biting, sarcastic wit that makes her classes fun and educational. Plus, and a big plus it is, she is a lot cuter than Alex Stecker.

I could not find a web page for the best adjunct professor in UVSC’s arsenal; Rick Fish. This guy is hardcore! He came from professional history so you know he knows his stuff. The fact that he is adjunct speaks volumes for the antiquated snobbery found at universities. Fools, asses, petty administrators, this man is the exception to your bourgeoisie zealousness (how is that for low-class professor speak). It is a downright travesty that he is still adjunct. For those of you responsible for this injustice….screw you! A pox on you and your stupid ways.

There is nothing like the idiocy of academia.

There are a lot of students who are doing history as a jump to law school. And most don’t really carry a passion for the discipline. There are also those that think that history is an easy route to a degree. Most are usually weeded out even before any sort of official matriculation. There are a few who are assuredly headed for scholarly greatness.

Of all the friends I’ve made (that includes you Darrin) and professors I’ve learned from, there is no one I admire more than David Ssejinja. David is a man living for something worthy. He has what I believe is a quality of life that most never even glimpse. In class David is mostly quiet, except when there is laughter. And his laughter is loud and infectious! His comments are intelligent and usually put a different spin on things (which is very important in the discipline of history). David hails from Uganda and is committed to helping the disadvantage people of his country through his foundation.

http://www.ssejinja.org/

I know David personally and he is trustworthy. His foundation gives in clear and practical ways. So, please give 'til it hurts.

2006-01-23T15:12:00.000-07:00

I just found out more fantastic family news. In our family there are two accountants, one is Whodoggy who was mentioned in my last post, and the other is T-Dawg. After talking to the original Voodoo it seems that T-Dawg is now gainfully employed in the profession of his schooling! Well done Little brother!! You make me proud T-Dawg. You've had to be tenacious to get where you are and I admire and respect you for it. Take care of the little Dawg.

It seems that most of my family is beating me to a career field ;)

2006-01-19T13:37:00.000-07:00

I would just like to say congrats to my brother Whodoggy. He was accepted into UNC's doctoral program. This was no easy accomplishment and taxed his family and him mightily. Well done. And........well done to Mrs. Whodoggy. One can't do the things one needs to do without the support of their sposa. I am proud of both of you and look to your future with a bright hope.

2006-01-12T14:33:00.000-07:00

I'm back and some sort of treatise is in order.

So, I survived a grueling semester of Hell on Earth. The longer I stay in school the more I think that its purpose is to serve as society's weed wacker and to relegate the masses into packaged classes. Oh, and it is also to give jobs to the otherwise useless, mainly professors.

Most of you know that I am a History Education major at Utah Valley State College. All of the live long day I've been attending education courses and listening to my peers. They say cute little things like, "Progress, far from consisting in change, depends on retentiveness. Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it." That is the famous line by George Santayana, and those of us in the history profession like to chant it like cult members.

If you believe this you are naive.

For the common man this idea has no bearing on reality. Let's face it, we won' t grow up to be rock stars, el presidente, a CEO, a congressman, or anything like that. Even if you were one of these stellars folks, you would be surrounded by people whose job would be to know and advise you about history. As for you and I and all the good proletariats out there......well history can be entertaining. Like Pearl Harbor the movie.

The reason history is so very important is because it is all about critically thinking! It is about the ebbs and flows of cultures and especially migrations (versus conquerage). A great deal of history is about flooding yourself with different points of view. It is about studying details and making some sort of educated statement. It is most definitely not about the History Channel or Saving Private Ryan. Those things are entertainment based upon history. History is not facts and dates. It is about ideas and eras and how they connect.

So, I guess that one could say that history has a cycle and I would say that it does and it will never be broken....... Even by cute sayings.

If you disagree with me, that's OK. But, I invite you to check your premises.

2005-11-04T15:24:00.000-07:00

Here is a little wisdom, if you dare to understand.

http://www.zionsbest.com/managers.html

2005-11-02T18:13:00.000-07:00

I was surfing at Yahoo movies and I noticed that one of my favoritest books has been made into a film. If you haven't yet read Jarhead by Anthony Swofford you ought to. The book is controversial, foul, and shocking. I enjoyed it, and I have found many parallels to my own military experience. That being said, my readers should know that I welcome disagreement. In fact here are two opposing viewpoints of the book and soon to be movie.

http://blogcritics.org/archives/2005/08/29/010145.php
http://www.military.com/opinion/0,15202,79248,00.html

I really liked this book because I identified with it as an enlisted man. The search for manhood, the never ending bureaucracy, the little boys with their homicidal tendencies, my own homicidal tendencies, the struggle with the addictiveness of the regimental lifestyle, were all things I could identify with. Yet, some see it as an offensive anti-American rag with dirty rotten liberalism at its core. That's fine by me if it struck you that way, but then again you don't know the sailors I've known and I found a little bit of them in many of the characters in Jarhead. In fact, if the movie is as good as the book, it will be on par with the likes of A Midnight Clear, Das Boot, and Band of Brothers.

What's that you say? Why didn't I include Saving Private Ryan? Well..... can you say broad, unlikely, and politically correct. I can and just did. Although to be fair it was beautifully filmed and edited well.

2005-11-02T11:39:00.000-07:00

Alright, so this is blogging. Since I will not advertise this blog, it will be fun for me to see who has been here. I come from a long line of sophisticated bloggery. You may know of the infamous whodoggy or perhaps you know of the potent diatribe found in the France Family blog; well I am the weaker third of the trilogy.