The Pie Pizzeria In Ogden...Baptized By Pizza!

I picked up my daughter from her first night class on Tuesday. We hadn't quite figured out bus systems so I thought it would be easier to just go and get her when she was done.

"How was class?"

"It was good," she said. I'm glad she didn't say she hated it because it was a subject I didn't particularly like--math. 

"You want to get something to eat?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"How does pizza sound?"

"Pizza sounds good," she said.

"I know just the place."

That's when I turned off Harrison Blvd and parked the car at The Pie Pizzeria in Ogden. I mean, you can't be considered a college student in Utah without experiencing The Pie.

It's not the original Pie--that's about thirty miles to the south in the basement of a pharmacy at the bottom of President's Circle at the University of Utah. When I went to the U, I didn't eat at The Pie everyday, but if I had the resources, I might have considered it. There are a few Pie Pizzerias out there. I believe I tried the one in Provo, but that was decades ago. I'm not even sure it's still there.

When I went to Weber State years ago, I ate at the pie a couple of times, or rather, we had The Pie pizzas ordered out. I was curious to see how this new location measured up to the original. It's really not fair to do that--anyone who's ever ate at the original knows what I'm talking about.

I'm happy to say the Ogden location is a fine substitute for those not making the trip down south. It's got a good vibe, a sweet patio where we watched the sun set and heard the Hill Air Force Base jets roar (something I love...), but the most important thing is the food. I know it's been a while since I've had any Pie Pizzeria pizza--the food we had Tuesday night was delicious! Good and filling! The leftovers carried me through two lunches.

I'm glad I could introduce my daughter to The Pie. I told her as we left that now she'll know what people are talking when they say, "Hey, how 'bout we order The Pie?" It's yet another way of knowing she's officially a college student. 

Baptized by pizza!

It's Time To Stash...The 'Stache

I've done dozens of shows in my life and I've played many different characters. But I've never had to wear a mustache until this latest show. Tonight I donned the facial hair for the last time. 

I've discussed several times on this blog how it is impossible for me to grow facial hair (or if not "impossible," at least not socially acceptable...). Many who can grow facial hair have told me on numerous occasions that I am lucky because I don't have to shave everyday. And now that beards, mustaches, and goatees are all the rage, a lot of men are growing out their hair. I've often wondered what it would be like to grow a beard, mustache, and/or a goatee.

Wearing a mustache in the show is most likely the closest I'll ever get to the real thing.

The first time I ever put on the mustache for the show I was shocked at how uncomfortable it was. The biggest problem I faced was the material the hair was attached to. It was hard and the edged dug into the skin under my nose. It made it hard to smile or do buzz warm-ups. Of course, a natural mustache won't come with this problem.

Another issue was having runaway hairs end up in my mouth as I sang during the show. I imagine a natural mustache does that, too.

I suppose if I were a full-time actor, I'd have the opportunity to wear fake beards, mustaches, goatees, even toupees more often. It might be fun to see how I look with a more natural-looking hairpiece. Maybe it's just me, but I think lots of bald guys who can't grow facial hair think these things.

Tonight I took off the mustache, peeled away the double-sided tape, pinned the 'stache back on the board and said goodbye to something I couldn't grow myself. All in all, even with the issues, it was fun to see me look different. We'll see what the future will bring.

Dan Wells's "I Am Not A Serial Killer" Movie...A Review

I knew the movie was out there since filming began. I followed Dan Wells's posts as he updated the fans of both him and his novel, I Am Not a Serial Killer. So, when it was first released and later when it hit Netflix, I made it a point to watch it.

And I did watch it--just a few years later.

There's so many things I liked about the film. I liked the style. It had a gritty, real "meat-and-potatoes" feel. It's set in winter in a small town in Minnesota and I felt like I was a visitor in a place that made me uncomfortable. The snow added a layer of isolation for the characters.

If you're not familiar with the book, it's more the story of how a teenager deals with his inner demons and then, the real demon he faces in the story (sorry, spoiler alert...). I should re-read the book again because I kept thinking back and wondering if a particular scene in the film was in the book. I've forgotten a lot of details from the book, but I do remember how Wells masterfully created a character in John Cleaver that both terrifies us and earns our sympathy at the same time. When John learns the mystery of why (and, more importantly, how...) the citizens of his small town are dying, he's probably the best one in the entire city to deal with the situation.

I don't know the budget they had for this film. It looked like the filmmakers were frugal in how they spent their money, but for me, this added to its charm. I wanted to see John overcome the battles both inside and outside his own mind. The film showed me that. We see a strange kid who knows himself and what he is. And, of course, watching Christopher Lloyd as the neighbor was a genius example of casting.

I Am Not a Serial Killer is a great little film that worked for me. Then again, I wanted it to succeed. I was glad to hear the film was being made, glad the story would read a whole new audience. And, perhaps the best thing I can say about the film--the best news I can give to Dan Wells--watching the film made me want to read the book again.

And It Only Took Forty-Six Years...

Progress...thy name is road construction.

I have lived on the same road just over forty years. It's taken almost fifty years for the city to change the end of our road.

You may be thinking, "What's the big deal? It's just a little road construction." That's true--the city reconfigured the intersection connecting our little street to a larger street. And unless you live here or have frequently visited those of us who do, I can understand that line of thinking. It probably doesn't seem that big a deal.

But, for the rest of us, it was a glorious change. 

When we first moved to this street, the road was not even paved--it was just dirt. It took a few years before they paved it for the first time. We live on a hill so the intersection had to take a few things into consideration. They had to connect basically a flat road to a road on an angle. Another interesting fact about the road (and the hill...) was back then, the gutters were used to irrigate yards and gardens.

We now have pressurized irrigation coming through pipes under the ground. Back in the 1960s and 1970s our watering system was much more basic. We had a small reservoir higher up on the hill and they would release water that flowed through backyards, front yards, and down the gutters. Each person had a specific time to water their property and they would manually divert the water to their lawns and gardens. Since this antiquated way to irrigate is over, the water no longer needs to flow down the street--it can go into a storm drain.

What does all this have to why the change on our street is so great? It's because we no longer have to slow down when we turn onto the street, nor does it dig and destroy the undercarriage of our vehicles. It's a smooth a turn as smooth as a buttered skillet. The funny thing is, since I've lived here for so long--longer than any other my neighbors--I was fine with slowing down. It was no big deal. 

Turns out, I was wrong. It's so much better now. And it only took forty-six years to happen.

Our First "First Day Of School Photo"...Ever

For years--as long as there's been social media, anyway--friends have posted pictures of their children headed off to school. This last week I saw a slew of them. I've even seen people complain about all the pictures on their social media feed. But (just like this post...), I think most people post those pictures more for themselves, than for others.

So, I've watched people post pictures year after year, post pictures of their kids in prom dresses and tuxes, post pictures of their children graduating and advancing in school. Since we homeschool I've never posted a picture of my kids on their first day of school, nor have I posted pictures of my kids before they attended any school dances (because they never asked/were never asked to attend...).

Until now.

Today our daughter donned her backpack, caught the bus, and went to her first college class. Her older brother did the same thing, he went to college years ago, but I don't remember making a big deal of his first day. But he also moved out of the house for two years for a church mission before he ever went to college. 

A few days ago I posted a picture of my daughter in a formal dress. She was modeling for a neighbor who makes and sells modest formal gowns. You could say it's us posting a picture of how she looks in a prom dress, even though she never attended a school dance.

Again, I think we post these pictures more for ourselves than others. The same can be said for this particular blog post. But, for everyone out there who have graced us with pictures of their kids over the years as they ventured off to school, I've joined your ranks. It just took me a few more years to be part of the club. 

My Friend Would LOVE To Have This In His House...

A few weekends ago, my wife and I climbed into the van and went looking for bargains in other people's yards. And even though we didn't buy it, we found something that I know my friend Ken would have absolutely loved.

It was an orange sofa system from the 1960s (or another era--I haven't studied furniture styles...).

It was beautiful.

Of course, it's nothing we could have bought for ourselves. We have no room in our house for such a trophy item. But even though we couldn't us it, I'm sure someone else could. That's the beauty (others might think differently...) of yard sales. There's stuff there that someone somewhere can use and most likely needs. You could argue no one needs the large orange sofa system from circa 1965 (or another era--I haven't studied furniture styles...), but we all know it just takes the right person to come along, see the piece of furniture, want it, pay for it, load it up in a truck, and put it in their house.

I knew my Ken would like it because he collects classic furniture and home furnishings. He's posted a few pictures on social media, especially when he finds a classic addition to his home decor. Personally, I love the style--maybe because I was born in the middle of the 1960s. Seriously, I think I like the retro style because it's different. Everything oozes personality and I don't see a lot of that today. Maybe I'm not looking hard enough, but I don't see it.

We got back in the van after checking out the other items and left the large orange sofa system behind. I wonder what became of it. Did it find a new owner, someone who will take care of it and appreciate it and show it the respect it deserves? 

Or will it end up at the local thrift store? 

I do know there's at least one other person out there who thought it was awesome. I'm sure there are more than just us two.

"Oh...He's Always Taking Pictures"

I can't remember exactly where I heard it, but last night my daughter explained to someone that I take a lot of pictures. I think her exact words were,

"Oh, he's always taking pictures."

And it's true. Putting a quality camera in something as portable as a modern cellphone is like a dream come true for me. I used to haul around a small Kodak digital camera. It did a decent job, but if you can put a better camera in a phone that is also a computer with photo editing functions and access to the internet, it's the best scenario of all.

After our show last night, a few cast members, along with friends and family, went to a local eatery, Iggy's. The restaurant is a few blocks from the theatre and a place where we regularly go after weekend shows. 

While my daughter and I waited for our "to-go" food, I stood and took a couple of pictures. They were panoramic shots so most didn't work out--weird shots of people's faces blurred because they moved as I panned from left to right. I did get one good shot. It's the photo above.

I like the picture. It captures the feeling at the two tables. There's probably four or five distinct conversations going on at the same time. I believe there were three sets of parents and children, two married couples, one cast member boyfriend, one cast member sister, and one stage manager in attendance. Sometimes there's more, sometimes less, but whenever we go, it's a good time. So, me taking pictures seems as natural to me as ordering food to go and leaving for home early. 

There might be one more of these get-togethers before the show wraps next week, and if/when we do shows in the future, I'm sure we'll invade a restaurant as the traffic flow ebbs, have the staff push several tables together, and enjoy each other's company. And if/when we do, I'm sure I'll be taking more pictures. 

So...I Guess I'm Invited To Join A BYU Faculty Intramural Team

Some time ago--maybe even last year--I was tagged in a Facebook photo, a photo I was not in. Obviously someone confused for someone else.

And I think I even untagged myself and let whoever posted the picture know that I was not the Scott, or the Scott Taylor they were looking for. I did this so the correct Scott or Scott Taylor could be identified in the picture.

Turns out, the photo mix-up has morphed into the realm of electronic mail. This week I got an e-mail addressed to me and fourteen others with the simple question:

Who's in for playing another faculty intramural team this fall?

And here I was bummed I missed out on making the BYU faculty intramural team last fall.

There is one connection to me and the list of BYU faculty members. A childhood friend, one of my first best friends, teaches at BYU and is included on the e-mail list. We've corresponded via social media, but not much. He lives south, has his own growing family, and a solid career. I'm sure if we ran into each other, we'd catch up and maybe (maybe...) share some old memories, memories that get older each year, but we're so different. We've lived different lives.

And then you get an e-mail with your name and his name on it. And it did remind me of a time, decades in the past, when both he and I were on the same sports team. He was a good player; I languished in left field (the outfield where statistically the least amount of balls are hit to...). 

If things were different, if I were on the BYU faculty, I'd be eligible to participate in (another...) BYU faculty intramural team this fall. So, to Mikle, David, (the real Scott Taylor, Mike, Michael, Timothy, Frank, Marc, Brian, Stewart, Erik, Robert, Jeff, Larkin, and Daryl, I'm sorry I won't be with you to battle the worthy BYU faculty intramural teams--how I would like to do so. And even though I can't, it's nice that a misrouted e-mail brought back a nice memory.

Play tough, Kerry! Play true! Play for BYU! (faculty...)

Serenaded At Dinner...

Tonight I arrived at the theatre early. I had picked up a grocery store sandwich and took a seat in the green room. It's been a long week and taking a break before the show revved up sounded nice.

Turns out, I wasn't the only one in the green room.

A young man sat at the piano we use for warming up before shows and played.

And what he played was beautiful.

I thought I recognized him as I came into the room, but when I looked again, I didn't. I thought I recognized the song, but as he played I realized I didn't. And since his continued playing told me he didn't mind me being there, I was okay to listen while I enjoyed my dinner.

In the theatre there's a stage and seats for the audience. There's tech booths and spotlight stations. There's backstage, the construction shop, the ticket office, bathrooms, dressing rooms, costume rooms, practice rooms, and the lobby. There's also a green room with a piano. Tonight there was a performer, and audience, a song...in a word, art.

The song ended and told the young man that I thought the song was wonderful. He said he heard the song, liked it, and learned how to play it. 

I still don't know who it was who played for me while I rested before the show. I don't know the song, either. But before any of the other cast members arrived, instead of entertaining others, I was the one entertained. Yes, magic happens inside a theatre--and it's not always on the main stage.

Two Of My Favorite Things...Summer Rainstorms And The Camera On My Phone

I was interrupted this afternoon by the sound of a great August storm roll through the valley. Unfortunately I was working or I would have sat on the porch, smelled the moisture-filled air, and watched as water fell from heaven.

It's one of my favorite things.

Another favorite thing is the incredible camera on my phone. I know it's not the best phone camera out there, but I don't care. It's light-years away from the first phone camera I had (I think it was a Nokia...) and I can do things with that phone that I could never imagine doing on my Olympus OM-10 (and I loved my OM-10...).

This afternoon, as the storm ebbed, these two loves came together. I took out the phone and recorded a video using the slo-mo feature. In normal speed it's just random drops hitting the top of our recycle trash receptacle. But slowed down, it's poetry.

Watched A Lot Of Movies About Churchill Lately...Fascinating!

I got on a mini-history kick this weekend and I ended up watching three films directly related to Winston Churchill. Of course, I watched them in the wrong order, chronologically. There's so much of World War II I don't know about, even though I find it fascinating.

My father fought in WWII. He was stationed in England near the end of the war. Thankfully, he and four of his brothers all returned safely. Not all could say that. I know there's millions of words written about that terrible war--it's all there for me to read about and research. But watching films about it is pretty cool, too.

The first film I watched was Churchill: The Untold Story of D-Day. I thought I was choosing another film when I selected it online. Nope--this one was different, but I enjoyed it very much. As the title alludes, the film shows us Churchill near the end of the war and his reservations of the largest military assault ever amassed on earth. Like many historical depictions, I wonder just how much of the story was true, and what--if anything--was embellished.

The next film I watched was Darkest Hour. This was the film I thought I was choosing the first time. This one earned its star, Gary Oldman, an Oscar. In Darkest Hour, we learn about how Churchill approached his appointment as Prime Minister and his first major emergency--evacuating most of the British Army from Dunkirk, at the same time, considering a possible peace treaty with Germany. I didn't know anything about that.

The last film, Dunkirk, told the story of the soldiers trapped in France. It mentioned Churchill briefly. It was interesting how this trio of films spotlighted an individual as well as his leadership and the consequences of the choices he made. Like I said, there must be thousands of books written about Churchill, the individual battles, and the war in general. I found each film informative, interesting, and educational. It reminds me of just how much there is to learn about these important events and the people who changed the world.

I'm Not A Lawn Expert, But...

Last month the people who oversee our secondary water informed us of restrictions. We had a drier-than-normal winter and spring and so, it's expected we'd get such a notice. The restrictions were not severe--basically no watering of yards on the weekends. I'm no expert on how much water is in reserve or how much will be saved by these moves, but it sounded reasonable.

And we've complied. By the looks of lawns around town, others have as well. I've probably seen more yellow lawns here than at any time in the past. The good news is lawns are usually hearty and can live on less water than we give them. Again, I'm no expert, either on water usage or lawn maintenance.

I've complained in the past about yard work. I really shouldn't do that. We are fortunate to have land that we can use to grow food and have a nice place to enjoy, but allergies and other issues cause me not do the yard work that's needed. It's something we're trying to improve. If I had the funds, I would gladly pay someone else do make our yard beautiful, but that shouldn't be the point of having a yard. Still, I'd do it.

This summer we made a change. We've watered less like everyone else, but one thing that's different is the number of times we've mowed our lawn. We used to mow it every week. Let's just say this summer we've mowed it a few times less than weekly. At times the grass has gotten quite high. Maybe someone in landscaping may think I'm nuts, but I think not moving a lawn helps keep it green. I've done zero research to back up my claim, just my observations. But if the lawn stays as green as it has (we've got yellow patches as well, just not many...), I think this might be a thing. I know I like the new schedule.

As more people move into the area, I'm sure restrictions will become the norm and not the exception. That's the way of things, I guess. If the same thing happens next summer, I'm going to try the "less-is-more" lawn mowing experiment again. We'll see what happens.

Ever Heard Of An Airedoodle? Looks Like We Got One...

When we found the puppy online, they said it was a Standard Poodle. We have friends who own Poodles. We've seen pictures of Poodles. When we saw the little fella he was covered in black curly hair.

He looked like a Standard Poodle to us.

But then, he didn't. People who know a lot more about Poodles told us he looked like he had some Labrador in him. We have friends who had Labradoodles. We've seen pictures of Labradoodles.

We thought he looked like he might be a Labradoodle.

But then, he didn't. Since he was a rescue and we weren't going to breed him, it really didn't matter to us, but that nagging question remained. Just what kind of dog did we get?

A few weeks ago we took the puppy out for a walk. A passerby said he thought our dog has some Airedale Terrier in him. Then yesterday another passerby said the same thing. We did a little google search on Airedoodles (I didn't know there was such a thing...) and we think we have our answer. From all indications, it looks like we adopted an Airedoodle.

My friend's Standard Poodle has a longer, thinner nose, bigger eyes, and a distinct break between where the nose ends and the forehead begins. Our dog has a stubbier nose, smaller eyes, and almost no break between nose and forehead. Also, the end of our dog's nose is more brown than the rest of his body and he has whiskers on his chin. Plus, he's got long legs, and a narrow frame. Labradoodles have thicker shoulders. I just don't see how he can have any Labrador in him.

Of course, we could get a DNA test to prove once and for all what type of dog we have. But, since we're not going to breed him, I don't think we'll spring for the expensive test. Still, it's cool to have the first Airedoodle I've ever seen.

Doing Shows...It's A Family Thing

When you're cast in a show at Centerpoint Legacy Theatre in Centerville, Utah, it pretty much consumes your life from the start of rehearsals until closing night. That's why when I'm rehearsing a show or doing a show, I tend to blog about it frequently and post a lot of comments and pictures online.

Since this particular theatre opened several years, I've been fortunate enough to be cast in several shows--mostly musicals, but I've also done a couple of straight plays. I've been in shows with children and those without. I used to do the shows with kids so my kids--namely my daughter--could do them with me.

Looks like that's no longer going to be the case.

My daughter's not a kid anymore.

We were both cast in the theatre's latest production of Pirates of Penzance. It's been an absolute blast to do. And my daughter and I aren't the only father-child duo in the cast. There's actually four couples, four fathers, three daughters and a son. Last week we posed for a few pictures. 

I know many of my writer friends wonder why I do so many plays. It kills a lot of time that could be spent writing. A good writer can crank out a 50k--80k in the same time it takes to learn and complete a show's three-month run. That means I could have ten or so novels in my name. Instead I have memories, photos, and several blog posts chronicling the times I've had with me, my friends, and more importantly, my daughter. 

She begins college next week. This may be the last show we do together for a while, maybe ever. That's a sobering thought. But she needs to go forward and begin memories of her own, perhaps with her own kids in the future. I love these pictures. Each couple does what they do for their own reasons. I'm glad I know why I do it. And I'm glad my daughter still wants to do a show with her old man.

New Razor Day...Haven't Needed A New One Since June 10th, 2013

I was chatting with a fellow actor Eric this evening as we waited for the show to begin. I told him that I had to break out a new razor today because the one I'd been using for years broke--it literally fell apart. I asked him how often he buys razors.

Eric said after he uses a razor four times, he has to toss it because it gets too dull.

Four times.

I told him I'd been using the same razor for years. He asked how long. I pulled out my computer, did a quick blog search (because I remember the last time I actually purchased razors, I blogged about it...). Turns out the last time I used a new razor--the same razor that disintegrated on me yesterday--was June 10th, 2013.

For those keeping track, that's 1893 days, or 270 weeks and three days.

During that same time, assuming he shaved every day, Eric would have used 473 and a quarter razors. 

Being bald, I knew I was saving money on haircuts. Turns out being unable to grow a beard or a mustache saves money, too, this time with razors. People who have to shave everyday say I'm lucky, and I suppose I am. Back in June of 2013 I bought two razors. One is destroyed and the new one was baptized this afternoon. And if past is prologue and the new one is as reliable as its twin, in 270 weeks (and three days...), I'll need to make a purchase. If only everything could last that long.

It's Progress...I Guess

It's only been a few months since I had a commute longer than going to my basement. And even though it's only been weeks, I noticed big changes as I turned off Redwood Road at 1940 West and returned to my old work location for a meeting. The biggest change was any living plant that once lived on that corner is gone.

And so is the big old tree.

Whenever I took the train home, I walked by that tree and I marveled at its longevity. I even blogged about it back in 2016 (you can access that blog post: HERE). I'm not an aborist so I didn't know how old the tree was, but for it to have survived on a busy downtown corner for years, probably decades means something. I thought it was a beautiful tree.

I'm not one to put the life of a tree over progress. I understand it had to come down. Without knowing the facts, I'll bet if they even could keep the tree, the cost would be very high. Plus, it's likely they couldn't have saved it even if they wanted to. My guess is, once the project is done, they will possibly plant many trees around the apartment complex and in a few decades, they'll be as tall and as beautiful as the one that's no longer there.

Progress is wonderful, but it can hurt. Just as growing old comes with it the advantage of wisdom and experience, it also brings the downside of aging. Just like the tree (and the apartment building that resulted in its demise...), everything we now know will one day be gone, the tree, the buildings, the light rail tracks, the roads--all of it, gone, replaced or destroyed or taken over by nature.

It's progress.

In my 2016 blog post I predicted the tree would not survive if they put in a new building. I also predicted how I would feel if that were to happen. Telecommuting has advantages and disadvantages. I'm glad I won't have to drive by the corner where the tree once stood. I think it would make me sad.

It's FINALLY Here..."Chaser" On Audiobook!

I got the word last night, as I was wrapping up my daily edition of my blog, as it happens. The audiobook of Chaser was not only done, but available for all the world to purchase.

It's one of those "Oh my gosh" moments that occurs many times to some, not many times to me.

It felt awesome!

I know I've gone on-and-on about this little book. It's something I'm proud of, not necessarily because I wrote it, but because of the positive response I've gotten from readers. Those who have read it and taken the time to leave comments have been so kind and said such nice things. If I never write another thing, I'll always be proud of how Chaser turned out.

I've blogged many times about many audiobooks. It's the main way I'm able to read anymore. I do love a real book you can hold in your hands, smell the pages, and enjoy the experience of reading how God intended us to read. But in our crazy hectic lives, audiobooks allow those who might not get the chance to sit and read to consume books. I blogged a few weeks ago about Mark Sanderlin's narration. I personally think it fits the material perfectly.

If you'd like your own audio copy of Chaser, and, quite frankly, why would you not? Just click: HERE to access Audible.Com and get one yourself. I'll even autograph your phone if you'd like (I'm sure you would not like that...).

Yesterday was cool. I hope you pick this up and listen with your kids. It's a fun fun read.

Helping The Daughter With Her Career...

My daughter asked us for help preparing a video resume for a gig that's coming up next month. She's choosing a career of performing and nowadays, sending video auditions seems to be all the rage. She needed to include a regular resume, a monologue, a dramatic scene, and video of her dancing.

After a few hours, we got them all.

I've done one video audition in my life. It wasn't good, but good enough for me to get a part in the show. This is the second time my daughter has prepared a video audition. Earlier this year she did another one--not for a job, but to get into a college program. She got into the program, so she's one-for-one, with another one pending.

My daughter's first acting gig happened when she was only six-years old. She even got a solo and even though I know my bias is showing, she nailed it. She and I have been doing shows ever since. We're currently in the same show right now, Centerpoint Legacy Theatre's Pirates of Penzance. It's a great show and I'm fortunate to be included in the cast.

The video audition and resume are due tomorrow. Tonight she'll send it off. Will it be good enough? Time will tell. She knows the people involved in the show and, more importantly, they know her. She's chosen a tough career as far as rejection goes. It's more common I believe than getting the part. It just makes the times when you nail an audition and are found to be just the one they were looking for that much sweeter.

Tonight we helped her get everything together. We didn't do much--she pretty much did it all. I can only hope whatever the outcome, she'll be a better person when it's all said and done.

Hail Lefties! It's Our Day...

Today is International Lefthanders Day, a day dedicated to about 10% of the population of which, I am one. Can't say I did anything special to celebrate. I worked, did a show tonight, came home and now I'm getting ready to retire. Looking back, I did one thing not involving my left hand when I should have used my left hand. I was informed by my dancing partner that on a certain dance move in our show, I was moving my right arm when I should have used my left. 

I suppose I sullied the day.

I've vowed to improve.

I came across a website this morning that had information left-handed people. You can access it: HERE. There's a lot of information with a scientific bent on the age-old question--why do some people turn out to be left-handed?

The study didn't focus on the brain, but the spinal cord as a way of unlocking the mystery of the left-handed people.

Back in 2014 I blogged about Lefthanders Day. You can access that site: HERE. I don't think about being left-handed very much. It's just life. I know it looks strange for other to watch me write and do other things, but that's life, too.

There's just under an hour left of the day for lefties. For 90% of the population, they think it's a day for us. But for the other 10%, everyday is lefthanders day.

I Thought I Knew A Lot About Dogs...But I Didn't Know This One

When we made the decision to add another animal to our menagerie, I was a little nervous. I knew training a puppy is tough, but we have five adults and a teenager who loves animals in our house so I thought we could share the load. 

And for the most part, we have.

I got my first dog when I was thirteen and between me and my mom, we kind of trained her. She was a little yappy thing, but we loved her and she lived seventeen years. This dog--a poodle--would require more work. They're just smarter and I knew we would have to stay on top of things. We've had Bec the Dog for about six weeks and we've had more pluses than minuses (the pictures show how much he's grown week-to-week...). He is smart which causes other problems, but when he's sweet, he'll melt your heart.

Today we have weapons in the dog-training arsenal not available to a thirteen-year old in the late 1970s--the internet and cable TV. Those two things mean all the collective dog-training knowledge in the world is accessible to us. You'd think we'd be set and have the best-trained dog in existence.

Funny thing about knowledge...sometimes you can have too much.

I have been constantly surprised at how much a puppy acts like a baby human. They're curious. They don't sleep when you want them to. They're always getting into things they shouldn't. And just like there are books on how to raise a child, there are books and shows and podcasts and blogs on how to raise a dog. What drove me and my wife crazy about the child-raising books is how they said by just doing A, B, and/or C, all your baby problems will be fixed. I suppose they do this to sell books. We were much more successful (and sane...) when we used the books as suggestions and not as gospel. 

And besides, none of the people writing baby books knew our kids.

And none of the people writing puppy books knows our dog.

I'm not saying their information is not helpful. I just mean I have to be careful with expectations. 

For now, we'll continue watching the shows and the blogs and the podcasts. There's a lot of information out there. But, we'll also keep watching and learning from our dog. After all, without him, we'd be watching something else...like Hallmark movies.