Oh, How I Wish Trader Joe's Were Closer...But That Would Be Dangerous

Saturday, my daughter and I stopped by Trader Joe's--one of only three in our state. Each time I set foot in that store I wish--dare I say daydream--of a world in which one of their stores weren't twenty miles away from where we live.

What a wonderful world it would be.

But, would it really?

For us, the store is dangerous. Because of dietary needs and budgets, we don't buy a lot of food "luxuries." Maybe you're thinking, "I'm not sure if what they sell at Trader Joe's can be considered luxuries." I get it. I understand. What I mean by "luxuries," is this--food we don't have to buy and most likely shouldn't buy, but love to buy. For example, cookies, nacho corn chips, jellybeans, and dark chocolate orange sticks, just to name a few.

No, we shouldn't be buying those things. But when we find ourselves at Trader Joe's, they end up in our shopping cart. And we bring them home. And we eat them.

With gusto. 

It's a good thing we don't shop at the store more often.

Of course, if there were a Trader Joe's closer to us, I'm sure we would visit it more...like weekly, or daily, or hourly. Okay, not hourly, but you get the idea. We'd be there a lot more than we are now. Even though food at Trader Joe's is, for the most part, acceptable to our dietary needs, it's still a budget buster.

I suppose it's good they only have three stores in the state, the closest being half a dozen towns to the south. But when I dive into the Maple Leaf Cookies, I seriously re-think that opinion.

It's Definitely Feeling Like Deer Hunting Season...

Yesterday, when I left the house in the morning, I looked up at the mountain range above our house. The clouds were rolling in and the crisp air transported me back to those same mountains forty or so years before.

Back when around twenty-five percent of the state went deer hunting.

My dad was a hunter. I know because I've been told this by the people who knew him personally. I know because our home was full of rifles, and even though he never took us hunting--he was too busy building our house--we always knew he was a hunter. In fact, I heard one story about how my dad used to hunt in order to feed himself and his young brothers. I can't imagine relying on your shooting skills to survive. You don't hit the target, you go hungry.

Times have changed.

They've also changed the hunting laws, too. It used to be several weeks were set aside in the fall for the deer hunt. Maybe back then there were special hunts, doe hunts, archery hunts. I don't know, but I know there's so many different hunts now, it's hard to keep up. And since I'm not a hunter, I don't.

There are deer in the mountains behind our house. I have no idea if it's a good place to go hunting--when I went with my neighbor years and years ago, Wyoming was always a good place to go. But, if you didn't get a deer the first weekend, many of my neighbors would hike up above our homes to see if they could bag their buck. Some did, some didn't. We could even hear gunshots from hunters as they took aim and fired.

I can't remember the last time I heard a gunshot above our home. Maybe those laws have changed, too.

Looking up at the mountains, knowing it's colder up there than it was where I stood, it reminded me of a time when so many of my friends and neighbors took to the hills in search for a target. 

The Building Across The Way...

This morning my daughter and I drove about thirty miles south, to a small rehearsal hall. I wasn't auditioning, but my daughter was.

I decided to wait in the car while she went inside. I didn't want to be one of "those parents." I'm sure if I had gone in and waited with her, she wouldn't have minded. Still, I thought it would be better to give my daughter space to prepare. It was a show my daughter would really like to do. She knows the odds--her never having performed at this particular theater--are not the best, but she did it anyway.

You see, she is brave.

She might not think so, or at least, might not this she's as brave as I think she is. That doesn't change my opinion, however.

In the theater world, just like any other I suppose, there are levels of professionalism and quality. Not all theaters can produce the same product--nor should they try. Some theaters are more for the actors than the audience. A small town putting on a summer show to give children something fun to do comes to mind. In our area, there are a handful of theaters where actors want to be cast. Hale Center Theatre is one. They just built an incredible complex dedicated to the art of performance. If you are in the area, you really should check it out.

Trying to get in a show where everyone else wants to get into as well can be intimidating. I've never auditioned for a show there. My wife did shows with the Hale family when she was in high school, about thirty years ago. A lot's changed since then.

My daughter came out after her audition. We discussed how it went on the thirty minute drive home. Like any audition, she didn't know how well she did. She'll know in a few days if she'll be called back, or not. Now the waiting begins.

As I waited for her in the car for her audition to conclude, I looked up and noticed the rehearsal building is directly across the interstate from the Hale Center Theatre. It was so close, but separated by thousands of racing cars, trucks, motorcycles, and vans. And in order to reach it, you've got to commit to trying. It can be dangerous, but well worth it, when you've reached your goal.

That Time A Great Shot Just Drops In Your Lap...Or Camera

Exactly one week ago tonight, I found myself standing in the middle of an amusement park holding my dinner of German food in my hand and waiting for my daughter to finish up shutting down her show for the night.

A deep red light erupted from the stage and I saw it...a chance to snap a photograph.

And so I did.

I wasn't sure how it was going to turn out. Of course, digital photography is so much better when it comes to knowing if you got the shot or not than it used to be when we used film. No wonder one-hour photo places were so popular. It's almost inconceivable to think there was no way of knowing how a picture turned out until you developed the film.

Now, all you have to do is change from the camera app to the photo app, if you're using your phone, which I did last week.

This was my daughter's show--the show I do had its last show canceled because they were closing the park earlier than planned. Since I no longer had a show, I thought I'd go pick up dinner then my daughter and I would go home. I saw the red light flood the stage, I took a few shots, then came home and posted the best shot as my Pic Of The Day.

What I didn't see was how the stage looks like a big mouth, the ship's wheel being swallowed in a sea of red. Two lights hanging overhead look like eyes. To me, the picture captures the magic I've found performing on stage. Be it singing, dancing, or acting, the stage can provide an experience that can change lives.

I don't know if the one picture will change any lives, but for that brief moment, when I stood alone in a semi-deserted amusement park, I got a great shot.

Separated...But Hopefully, Not For Long

We started with one pet, a dog. We then got a cat, then another cat, then another dog. We had to put down our newer cat earlier this year. So, what did we do? We got another cat.

The problem is, these pets don't play well together. In fact, we have to keep them separated. Hopefully, that's not going to be a permanent situation. We're working to make that happen, but it's taking time.

Our poodle is about a year and a half old. If you know poodles, you know they're high-strung. It was evident from when we first bought the dog home, that he and cats did not get along. The new dog also went after the older dog, so much so, we couldn't have them in the same room at the same time.

Then, something amazing happened. The big dog no longer attacked the small dog. In fact, he treated her very well. If the old dog weren't deaf, blind, grouchy, and just wanted to be left alone, I think the two dogs could have gotten to be friends. 

Because of how the puppy changed, we thought we'd next try getting the poodle used to being around the kitten, without eating him, of course. The dog is afraid of gates and we're using that to our advantage. We have the cat in our room and the dog in the hallway. So far, we can have the door open and both parties have behaved well. Or, in other words, they haven't killed each other or destroyed our house.

We hope the cat and dog can be friends. Each animal is different, of course, but we have faith. This could either end in success, or failure. Then, there's also the option that we have to live with temporary gates forever. I guess the animals will ultimately decide...

In time.

There's Some Building Going On...

The foundation's poured; the framing began today. It's good to see another building going up. There's less and less of it nowadays. Of course, where we live, there's less buildable land available. It's all being gobbled up.

Tonight, as I was grilling dinner for possibly the last time this year, I looked around at the neighborhood. From the end of our street, I could see twelve houses.

And I've seen every single one of them be built.

The oldest home I could see was my childhood home. It's the home getting an upgrade, hence the foundation and framing. The first home on the street was temporary. My parents bought a mobile home and parked it in front of our house as they built the home, something I'm sure is not possible today. Once we could live in our house, we moved the mobile home to a mobile home park.

The house across the street came next, then the three at the far end of the cul-de-sac went in. Then came the red brick home next to ours. From there, it took decades for the other homes to pop up. The house north of us was built. Then our house, my sister's house, the house built on my brother's lot (that he sold...), then a house north and east of us, and finally, the last open lot on the street got its house.

Twelve homes, built between 1970 and 2014. 

 I don't feel particularly old, even though I am, relatively speaking. To those older than me, I'm still a pup. To kids and teenagers, I'm ancient. I've seen changes in my home town and even on the street in which I live. Unlike some, I'm glad to see another structure go up, even though it's an addition. It means people are living their lives. It means dreams are being fulfilled. Yes, we were the first, but will not be the last. I'm glad there's some building going on.

Out Of The 144 Photos I Posted In September, 2011...Only Nine Remain

Every once in a while, I'll check out some past blog posts. I've got a few thousand to choose from (3, 168, to be exact...). I thought I'd see what I wrote about back in September, 2011. Turns out, Google's blog format, Blogger, is great at saving the words, but not the pictures. 

Oh, there are spaces where the pictures once were, but the pictures--almost all of them--are gone. And I don't believe they're ever coming back.

I should say that the pictures weren't that great to begin with. I'm sure some were better than others, but most were...you know...not the most interesting shots out there. Of course, I can't remember all of them. I'm going by memory.

At first, I was a bit disappointed. I thought the words, pictures and videos would be there forever. But of all the blog posts created by bloggers across the world for decades, just keeping track of all the photos would be a massive assignment. I know I wouldn't want it.

I checked out September 30, 2011 and I saw the circle with a line in the middle--missing picture. I scrolled down and saw all the pictures were gone. I looked through all 30 blog posts from September, 2011. I posted 144 photos. Only nine pictures remain, eight from my post on 9/2/11 about a baseball book I bought at the D.I. thrift store (a book, I no longer have...), and one picture of acrylic grapes form a 9/13/11 post--interestingly enough, also about another trip to a different D.I. thrift store. If you've followed this blog, you know I love that place.

I know that over the years I've searched specifically for the post about that book and about acrylic grapes. I believe that's why those pictures pulled up when all the rest are gone. If you want to search those posts, be my guest. They're all located on the right side of this blog post page.

I know nothing lasts forever, even digital blog post entries. Looks like the pictures go first, then I suppose if the internet were to go away, so would all my words. It would be cool to have all these posts published into physical books. But if so, what would I do with them? Of the 144 photos I posted in September, 2011 on my blog, only nine remain. I wonder if anyone will ever see them. Looks like they won't see the others.

And, a decade or so in the future, will the picture I posted today of a missing picture show up? If past is prologue, probably not. Then again, it'll be the right picture after all.

If You're Looking To Write A Fun Halloween Story...Check This Out!

I can't remember where I saw it, but I sold my first story after seeing a post for submissions. It was for a steampunk anthology. I wrote a story, submitted it, and it was accepted. That simple act started me on an incredible journey. I admit, I'm not the most prolific writer, nor have I sold dozens of stories or written numerous novels, and I am working to continue that journey, but it was my start, and I'm so glad I took a chance.

A friend of mine began a podcast earlier this year. I've written about it and encouraged those who would find it interesting to give it a chance. It's called, In The Telling podcast, created by Liz Christensen. The other day, Liz posted a request for stories and poetry. Here's what she put out there:

Be part of the "In the Telling" Halloween special! Submit your own original seasonal/holiday poems and short stories to be read by professional actors in a festive podcast episode! Family friendly poetry of any length, type and format will be considered. Family friendly short stories must have less than 5,000 word count. Multiple submissions encouraged.

Submit to: inthetellingpodcast@gmail.com by October 24th.

Subject line: Submission for Halloween Special

Be sure to include title and authorship credit with the submission.

I've said many times that we live in the most amazing time in the history of all publishing. I can write a book, publish it myself, and put it on the internet where billions of people can read it. That ability has never been possible for anyone ever before. And we don't give it a second thought. If I googled writing opportunities, literally thousands of responses would pop up. Liz's is yet another chance to allow yourself to be creative. 

So, if you're thinking about it, take a chance and give it a shot! You've got until 10/24/19, and if chosen, your creation will be brought to life by professional actors. How cool is that? You never know--it may be the start of an incredible journey of your own.

Photo by Valiphotos from Pexels

It's Our Wedding Anniversary, And I Got My Wife...A Clean Sink

We met, started dating, got engaged, then married all in 1992. Today marks our twenty-seventh anniversary. What did I get my wife? Clean dishes.

Now, I don't want to give you the wrong impression. Doing the dishes is not her job. We split those responsibilities. Dishes have always been a tough one for us. But we may have found a breakthrough. I've found that after a ten-hour work shift, doing dishes isn't that bad. It's nice to be able to do something physical after sitting all day, even though it's just dishes. 

Maybe we're different. Maybe we're like other couples. We don't forget our anniversary, but we also don't celebrate like other couples, or at least, the couples who post anniversary activities on social media. Perhaps the way we celebrate wouldn't work for other people, but it's worked for us. Tonight, we didn't go anywhere--I had to work. Normally, we go out for a nice meal at a restaurant. Again, had to work, plus it's Sunday. We'll go another night.

There's many ways to show appreciation, to celebrate. For us, being together works. But for today, doing a couple of loads of dishes was my gift. Happy anniversary, babe! Sure do love you!

Did You Hear That? It's The Sound Of The Unfulfilled Unrealistic Expectations...

In the short space of eighteen hours, a wave blew across the landscape. Perhaps you heard the cries of anguish, the gnashing of teeth, the profanity and pseudo-profanity. For if you are a sports fan of Utah's two largest college football programs, this was not a good weekend.

In fact, it sucked.

But, if you look at the games with a non-fan perspective, the outcomes might not be surprising. The local teams lost to national powerhouses, or, at least, programs with storied pasts. On any given weekend, our local teams would lose to those programs again and again. 

So, why the frustration? Why the angst, the pain, the sad faces across the state?

One reason--unrealistic expectation.

The die-hard fans thought--no, expected--the local teams to win. We thought our teams were better than they actually were. And this weekend, the truth--truths that were always there, we just chose to ignore them--showed their ugly faces. It didn't help that national media pegged the Utah Utes as a dark horse playoff team, nor did it benefit anyone that the BYU Cougars were 2-1, even thought their record could be 0-4, if it weren't for a couple of plays and lucky bounces. We flat-out thought our teams were better than they were, or that the limitations in the teams were either not there, or would not show up for big games.

Yes, the pain is real. We wished things had turned out different, but they didn't. The lofty goals some imagined will have to wait until next year, and they may never happen (another hard truth that may be tough to swallow...). The sound we heard this weekend may return again. Although, I suspect, if it does happen, it won't be as loud, or as impactful. After all, we all learned something this weekend, whether we wanted to, or not.

When You're Asked To Speak In Front Of A Hundred People...

A few weeks ago, I got an e-mail from my direct supervisor. The e-mail contained a request and the request was simple--represent the department, and more specifically, our team, at a training conference. Since my supervisor was already committed elsewhere, he asked me.

I said I would, but I asked him if there was anyone else who could do it. I didn't feel qualified, especially when there are other workers on my team with more experience. He checked; there wasn't. I agreed. Yesterday, the time arrived, and so did I. Earlier in the week I prepared some information for the meeting--things that I thought it would be good to go over for their training. I even checked with my supervisor to get an idea from him what things I should discuss.

I was prepared. And, after working for the same employer for more than two decades, I had attended similar meetings in the past. So I thought I knew how many people would be in attendance. When I entered, it was more than I thought it would be. I had a few minutes to go over my notes as the previously scheduled speaker finished up. It was almost a surreal experience. I was to speak in front of a hundred or so professionals, many with years more time working their jobs than I have mine. The information I had to offer then was thin, at best. 

Was I worried?

The strange thing was, I was not...not at all.

I began with a joke and tried to keep things light. I wanted to act as a conduit between their agencies and mine. I had thirty minutes on the schedule--I took thirty-five. 

When my time was up, I thanked them and everyone went on break. A few came up to me for a question or two, and one said I was very brave to ask a room full of people how our department could help them do their jobs better, when some of those people had very real gripes concerning how our department operates. 

There's always so much to learn when you are involved in trainings.

I'm not sure if I things had been different, had I known how many people would be in the room. Would I have been worried? Would I have refused? Hopefully, not. I'm glad it turned out okay. At least, I think it did. But, if I'm asked again, something unforeseen might come up that prevents me from doing it. Just saying...

Another Aunt, Gone...So Few Left

It wasn't until I heard my aunt talking at a family function years ago that I had a relative who shared a name with a famous actress. But we never knew her as Elizabeth Taylor, only Beth.

She was much to spunky to be an Elizabeth...

Beth suited her better.

Beth passed away yesterday, slipped from us and to the loving embraces of so many parents, siblings, and siblings-in-law. She and her husband Dave are all that remain of the Lester and Margaret Taylor children and their spouses. Twelve children (of which, my father was #9 of 12...), eleven siblings and their spouses no longer with us.

I've known Aunt Beth all my life. What a character she was. And her laugh could echo throughout any building, any space. Like most of the women I know from that generation, she went through a lot. It's been decades when she had her first replacement surgery. She used to joke she was mostly bionic. There's truth in her words. Then came the other health issues, and finally, the sum of the problems proved too great, even for as strong a woman as Beth was.

My parents adopted us kids later in life. My mom's father was born in 1900, and my father's father was born in 1885. I was placed in a family where we were losing family members almost from the beginning. There's been a lack of deaths in the family of late, mostly because my parent's siblings are all gone. Of the twenty-six aunts and uncles, I'm down to four, each of them in their late 80s and early 90s...so few left.

Last month it was Coralle--this month, Beth. As I age, more and more family--the ones I've known--are on the other side. Now, Beth's there, too, free from all the pain her physical body provided. Another person that welcomed me and my siblings into their family as if we were flesh and blood is no longer here. Her absence creates a void, a void filled with sadness and loss. It's a testament of how important she was to my family, my parents, and her friends. Good-bye Beth--never Elizabeth--but Beth. And she wore the name well.

Leo...

You know how your perspective changes when you're used to one thing then see something else? I remember, after living in Europe for a couple of years, I got used to the narrow streets, the small homes and apartments, pretty much everything.

When I returned, I walked into my childhood home, looked at the kitchen/dining room space, and said, "It's so big." My mother said that my older brother had the exact same reaction when he returned home after living in Japan for over a year. I had never thought of that space as "big" before, but when I got home, it was huge. The smallness of Europe had become normal.

The same thing happens to me when I see Leo. He's a tiny dog who lives close by. I'm sure he's not the tiniest dog in existence, but when you live with a standard poodle , a small dog looks tiny and a tiny dog looks so small, you wonder if it's actually a dog, and not something else.

Leo couldn't be cuter. He yaps a little (which you can barely hear...), so when you go over to him, he is so excited, he runs to the fence and waits for you to pet him. So, of course, that's what I did. As I walked away, he just stood there behind his little fence. I had to take a picture.

Being around a large dog, you get used to how big it is, how loud it is, how you can wear yourself out just by petting him. Looking at Leo, it changes your whole perspective.

Catching The Legendarium Podcast...A Live Version...At FanX

I've listened to dozens, possibly hundreds of Legendarium Podcast episodes. A few weeks ago I, along with thousands of others, watched a live version. Okay--it wasn't live, I mean, they recorded the show to be broadcast at a later date. I watched them perform at the FanX Comics Convention in Salt Lake City.

They were there because I wanted the convention attendees to see them for themselves.

Except for Craig Hanks, one of the founders, I have been involved in community theater productions with each person they had on stage. There's more members of the Legendarium family, but not all could make it. Too bad--they each provide a distinctive voice I've come to know over the years.

Theirs was not the only podcast that performed. There were several, in fact. When I asked the Legedarium if they'd like to participate, they simply asked what would we like to see them do. I told them, we'd like audience participation, and we wanted them to talk about things our convention goers would enjoy. 

And the Legendarium Podcast delivered! 

They had games and gave out prizes. I could have been more pleased--they did exactly what I hoped they'd do. And, the red team won, which is always nice.

I looked back at the photos I took of the group to include in this post. Amazingly enough, I did not get a picture of Todd. I got Craig and Ryan, Kenn and Megan, but not Todd. Actually, that's not true. In one picture you can see Todd's arm. Don't know what happened--sorry Todd.

If you're not familiar with the podcast, check out their website by clicking: HERE. You can start listening to current episodes, or check out the 200 + past podcasts. I'm even on one of them, episode #126, Dauntless, by Jack Campbell.

The group is fun and informative. They know their stuff. And, because I know most personally, it's extra fun for me. Give them a shot! If you're a geek like me, I think you'll love it, too.

There's A Fire On The Mountain...This Time, It's Not Our Mountain

Because of social media, we can instantly be informed of events around the block or around the world. This afternoon news hit of a mountain fire located a few miles to the north of us. It's been a windy day and wind, hot weather, and tall weeds equals potential loss of property, or worse.

Believe me--I know what those people living near the fire are going through.

We lived it twice, once in 2003, and again ten years later in 2013.

The last couple of years the western United States have been on fire. Two summers ago we drove to Seattle to attend my nephew's wedding. Oregon was ablaze; Washington State was, too. Near Portland they closed the interstate. Fortunately, we turned off before the road was closed, but on the way home from the wedding, the smoke was so thick in some areas, it was difficult to see even a few hundred feet ahead.

This year (and maybe it's because I have been so busy and not paying attention to other stuff...) it feels like it hasn't been a bad fire season. Until recently, that is. In the space of a couple of weeks, there's been several fires close to where we live. Luckily for us, we've not had one hit above our home since 2013.

Because I was blogging in 2013, I blogged about that and posted several pictures of the event. You can access that particular blog post by clicking: HERE. Having a fire so close to home is both terrifying and amazing. Everything--everything--smells like smoke. Even your clothes inside the house smells like smoke days later, but at night, the scene is so surreal watching the mountain burn. The 2013 fire was nowhere near as big as the 2003 fire. That one was huge. Thankfully, no homes were lost in either one.

Like anything, living on the side of a hill comes with positives and negatives. Sure, the views are incredible, but mountainside fires usually don't threaten valley homes and then there's the potential for mudslides caused by the burned vegetation. Pros and cons in everything.

I don't know the status of the latest blaze as I write this. The wind died down in this afternoon and it looked like it might rain, but then the wind picked up again so it could be much much worse than it was earlier. The forecast calls for rain tomorrow. We're all praying it's right. No, mountain fires are something no one wants, but when they happen, we deal with them and the aftermath. I guess it's just part of life.

This time, it happened a few miles north. A couple of weeks ago, the fire was a few miles to the south. I wonder if in 2023 we'll have another one on our mountain. I sure hope not.

The Widow's Bench At Church...

I don't know if your church building has one, but ours seems to. There's a bench in our chapel that certain churchgoers tend to use. It's the last padded bench--behind it are chairs that must be set up beforehand.

I call it The Widow's Bench.

And I've thought of it that way for decades.

It's were my mom used to sit with her friends.

I think I first noticed it when my mom sat there. My family would sit in the back and my mom would sit with her friends on the bench. It's a nice bench--there's plenty of leg room in front of it, and since it's prime real estate (as far as where to sit in the chapel goes...) I've notice many widows arrive early, much earlier than young parents bringing along with them a kid or four.

In our congregation, we've lost a dozen or more parishioners in the past two years. I believe they've all been men. Some of the widows have moved from the neighborhood, but most have not. I can only imagine the type of strength and friendship they share. It's no wonder they sit together on the last padded bench in the chapel.

Yes, my mother sat on that bench for years. In fact, she was a widow even before that chapel was built. So many others sat with her over the years, and after she left us, others took her place. Since I don't visit many other churches or worship in other church buildings, I don't know if they have a widow's bench or not. But, since people tend to act in similar ways, I imagine there's probably a lot of widow's benches out there, and my guess is, they're most likely occupied during each worship service.

Time Is Running Out...On My Little Garden

This is a picture of what may well be my entire squash crop.

Time is running out on my little garden.

We were late in planting. In fact, we weren't planning on planting any vegetables this year since we've had such poor results lately. But when your friend owns and operates a greenhouse, and he talks you into taking a couple of tomato plants, a pepper plant, and a squash plant late in the planting season, you do it and wait for the results.

Turns out, the results were not good. Oh, all the plants have produced produce, but--especially the tomatoes--the season's cooler temperatures are going to be unhelpful for our crops. There's several green tomatoes on the plants but I doubt they're going to make it.

Of course, the small garden was never meant to be a main food source for our family. We live in a world where it's more economical--especially with our time--to just go to the store and pick up a squash, a few tomatoes and a couple of peppers, than it's been to plant/weed/harvest what's grown.

All in all, it's been a fun exercise, so much so, I think I'll do it again next year. Hopefully, I'll start sooner, and perhaps clear more space for more plants. Who knows where this will lead? Probably with the same results. But the squash in the above picture would never have existed (at least, on our land...) had not I took an interest and acted on it.

So I Decided To Walk To Work...Then I Didn't

Last month the play my daughter and I were in closed. Since then, my exercise regimen has become non-existent. Sure, there was FanX Comic Con, but that was only one weekend. Turns out, some of my clothes have gotten more snug.

So, I decided to walk to work this afternoon. It's only a couple of miles away and it's all downhill. What could be easier? I get to work and get some exercise at the same time.

Except, I didn't.

It's still too hot.

I didn't want to end up at work all goopy and sweaty before my shift even started. I ended up getting a ride with my son. But, had I walked, I would have experienced a beautiful late summer afternoon. The mornings are crisp and the afternoons are no longer unbearable. 

For the next six weeks I'll be working the weekends. There'll be many other opportunities to get some exercise. Will I take them? It depends. But I know, if it's too hot, I most likely won't.

When Lightning...Or Something Else...Fries Your Cables

I wonder if my kids are ever curious about what it was like to grow up in the 1980s. They've never asked me about it. But if they ever ask me, "Hey dad--what was it like to grow up in the 1980s?" All I have to do is disconnect the cable and internet and they'll know.

That's what happened at our house yesterday.

Twenty-four hours, modern technology-free.

It was eye-opening.

Tuesday, during a thunderstorm, our cable went out, and when I say "out" I mean, we had nothing--no phone, no cable, no internet. We think it was lightning, but we're not sure. Usually, it's not a big deal, except I now work at home and require internet access to work. Nope. No dice. We called the cable company and there were no outages in our area. Normally, I don't want bad things (no cable...) to happen to others, but if it had been an area outage, a technician would have been dispatched immediately. Since it was just us, they couldn't send anyone out until twenty-four hours later.

 Bummer.

But, we endured. We persevered. We survived. I used my phone as a wifi hotspot to post my "Pic Of The Day" and my blog post. Thank goodness. Had that not worked, I would have had to go to the library or found another public wifi to do those things.

The tech came yesterday and diagnosed the problem. The cable--at the connection at the street and at the house--was fried. You could still smell the burned rubber a day later. They ran a temporary line and we had services again. Instantly, we were transported into the twenty-first century.

I'd like to think I'm not a slave to technology, that I could go a day without picking up my phone. Turns out, I can't, or if I did, it would be a miserable experience. So, whenever someone from my generation criticizes the younger generation for always being dependent on their devices, I think it's a universal problem. At least, for one day this week, it was for us.

When No One Knows...

He didn't.

We know because he's still with us.

She didn't.

She told us why.

Yesterday was National Suicide Prevention Day. There's so many National Day this, and National Day that, that--to be honest--I get sort of numb to it, especially when something as serious as suicide is listed alongside such other National Days like National Doughnut Day, or National Left-Handers Day (okay, that last one is kind of cool, but is in no way as important...).

Yesterday, I sort of ignored it.

That is, until I read a social media post from an acquaintance. I don't know if I'll ever treat the day so lightly ever again.

We all know people who have taken their own lives, or people who have tried. Maybe you're one of those people who tired, or have thought about it. I don't know the statistics--I read a post saying suicide is the most common cause of death for males under 45-years old. I'm not sure if this is worldwide, or in the USA. And, if it's true, it doesn't matter because wherever it's true, it's tragic.

The post he wrote, well...it stopped me cold. I've had friends who have committed suicide and I knew they weren't happy. They'd gone through trials in their lives and some seemed to never recover. Then there's the ones who say the person was always happy--no signs of trouble. But, obviously there were.

In the social media post I read yesterday, the acquaintance explained what happened, and how he went from choosing the day he would end his life, and how things slowly got better. I was shocked reading the words--I had no idea. Since we're not close (we don't see each other much, but I've followed his posts on social media for years...), I had no idea how he was doing other than from what he posted. I kept imagining how shocked I would have been had I opened the computer and read about how he was no longer with us, how he took his life. I would have wondered if I could have done something to alter the unchangeable ending.

I would have come up with zero results, which would make the tragedy that much worse.

We live in a world where pain and hate and fear grow and fester in the hearts of men, women, and children, where these traits are many times celebrated and encouraged. It's taking its deadly toll. I'm so glad this person shared their experience. And I hope I remember it more than just one day a year. May we be more loving, more caring, more brave...may those grow in our hearts instead. 

Getting To Know You...Getting To Know Me

This morning, I left my work desk, climbed in the van, and drove north. It was time for a team office party. And that's where we played "getting to know you" games.

What is it about office parties? The games seem to be part of the plan. In defense of the organizers, the people at this particular party do not work together often, if at all. We all have very specialized job duties and for that reason, we're all under the same manager. Today we got to meet each other, and by the time the party ended, we all knew each other better.

I don't know who came up with the party games, but they were fun. We played "rock/paper/scissors." We acted/sounded like barnyard animals. We spelled out four-letter words (the safe kind...). We sat across from each other and asked questions printed on a card. I think the card game allowed us to find out more about each other than any of the games. Who knew Forrest Gump was a person someone wanted to be in a movie?

The rain came, the temperature dropped, the food was eaten, we got in our cars (and vans...) and drove home. Normally, after an office party, I'll see the people in the office and ask how they're doing, maybe catch up on something they told me when we first met. Now that I telecommute, I have no idea when I'll see them again in person. It might be soon--it might be years. But, on a somewhat cool day in September in a park in Ogden Utah, I got to know them a little bit better.

Halloween Season...It Begins This Week

This morning, as I left for work, it was dark and the crisp air had a bit in it.

Halloween is coming!

And, as if to solidify the point, my autumn gig of scaring the crap out of people begins this next weekend. It's time to break out the Halloween decorations. And so I did, at my work desk. I unboxed then assembled my Jack Skellington. He's seen better days and I'm missing his dog, Zero, but even with his faults, he puts me in holiday mood.

I've made no secret that Halloween is one of my favorite holidays. I do not "go all out" as some do. We decorate, the house but the kids don't go "trick-or-treating." They're getting too old, anyway. But there's something about the time of year--summer's relinquishing its hold on the hot weather and things are starting to cool down. It's the beginning of football season, college, pro, even high school when I get a chance to watch.

The days shorten, the nights get longer.

What a beautiful time of year!

I know Halloween merchandise has been in stores for months, but it doesn't matter. Once Lagoon opens its doors (this year on Friday, the 13th...) and we escort 40 or so people into a small room on the park and begin Seance, it's on!

I hope you all a healthy and hearty Halloween season. For me, it begins this week.

And Hour Of Peace...It Was Lovely

It's been a hectic weekend and a hectic summer. My daughter and I finished a run of Peter Pan in Ogden last August. After it ended, she was working a summer job and I was preparing for FanX, the comic convention that just ended. I feel like I've been running and running with little time to my own. And next week, I begin my autumn job--working at Lagoon's Frightmares.

It seems like I'm on a train that seldom stops.

Last Wednesday I took off work to help prepare for the upcoming convention. I'm glad I did--it was nice to have some time to prepare. I checked the train schedule, got a ride to the station, sat and waited for the train. I used to take the train several ties a week. Now, hardly ever.

I boarded and sat down, then the train pulled away. I had my backpack and my scooter. In twenty minutes the train would arrive, then I'd depart and make my way to another train, then the Salt Palace. It took about one hour from when I first sat and waited to when I walked in the convention center doors. And in that hour I didn't do the things I used to do, the things I always feel obligated to do, namely, get on-line, write something, check e-mails, listen to podcasts...you name it.

No...I didn't do that. I just sat and listened to the noise of the train, felt the car sway side to side, and thought about...well, not much, actually. It was nice.

The next three days were filled with making sure performances went well, panels were covered, and guests left entertained. I walked around a space with a hundred-thousand others and I did it for three days. It was amazing--it was exhausting. But, in the last week, there as one hour--as single hour when I didn't worry about all the stuff I usually worry about. I hope to do that again sometime soon.

How Was My Weekend? This One Picture Says It All...

I'm home and my head is buzzing. My feet are sore, my eyes are tired, and my ears keep expecting to hear the low rumble of thousands and thousands of people under one roof. It's an overall feeling I've experienced may times since 2013. It's the sheer exhaustion you feel after a major comics convention has ended.

A common question I've been asked while at the con, and one I often times ask my fellow convention attendees is this, "How's your con going?"

Mine can be summed up in one picture. It's the one posted above. It's a picture showing what a portion of the convention floor looked like around 3:15 this afternoon. It's a picture of success.

On the left side of the picture is a stage. It's small and looks even smaller surrounded by patrons. On that stage are three individuals, two contestants and one M.C. It's FanX's first ever Cosplay Lip Sync Battle Finals. And they were worth the wait.

I was worried about this one--so was the person in charge. We had two preliminary rounds Thursday and Friday, but today was the big one, the whole enchilada.

And it was brilliant.

We thought our fans might get into the spirit of what we were doing, and when a Freddie Mercury look-alike donned the stage and lip synced the entire Bohemian Rhapsody song, the crowd sang along with him. It was amazing and I loved helping in a small way bringing this experience to our guests. Thanks Howie and your team for all the hard work, thanks to Liz for everything, and thanks Blake for letting us prepare a line-up that worked so well. 

All I can say at this point is I'm beat, but just wait until next year--we're going to blow your socks off!

Yup...I Oversold It...I Oversold N'Sync

I first heard about the change in plans when I first arrived at FanX Comic Convention yesterday. I was pulled aside and told that sometime between 4pm and 5pm, my little convention floor stage would get a couple of visitors.

Several, actually.

We were going to be visited by Joey Fatone and Chris Kirkpatrick. The former members of N'Sync would be arriving via golf cart to the stage area. Then, there would be an explosion of dancers (okay, that may be over the top...) and thus would begin a dance party right there, at our stage.

The first thing I did, after finding out about the change, was find the person we had booked on the stage between 4pm and 5pm. That happened to be James Artimus Own. Because James is such a pro and an amazing guy, he was at first shocked, but then he said he'd roll with it. I know some who would have balked--it wouldn't matter who was interrupting them, but not James. He met with the event organizer and found out what was going to happen. Then we all went on our way until 4pm hit.

James began his panel. If you haven't heard his story, it's one of those "come from behind" tales where sheer will triumphed over potential disaster. His story is inspiring and meaningful, especially in our cynical world. As James continued, I kept looking down the vendor hall waiting for a golf cart. Because I was excited, and wanted as many people as possible to experience whatever it was that was going to happen, I told friends as they walked by that they needed to sit down and wait because N'Sync was going to put on a show.

I completely misunderstood. 

The show was for Joey and Chris. They weren't the performers, but the audience.

I'm sure I was told this, but in my mind, they were going to hop on stage so everyone could see them. Nope, didn't happen. And that's just as well. Everyone in the area saw the stars on the cart and gave them the recognition they deserved. But when it was all over, I realized, to those I spoke to earlier, I misrepresented what was going to happen.

The picture above is a snapshot of a video I took from the back of the stage. You can barely make out section of the golf cart and on that cart were the stars. It would have been fun to welcome the two up on our stage. I'm glad they got to see the hard work put on by the dancers. After all, they put in all the work to prepare for the surprise. All I did was oversell N'Sync.