It's Not How My Car Looks, Necessarily, But...This Is Me

 I ran across a meme the other day--even shared it with my wife. Unfortunately, I can't remember the source. I thought it was funny, then didn't think much about it. Today, while looking through my photos, I spotted this meme again and I realized, "That's me."

Of course, I don't wake up in the middle of the night thinking about what would look "sick" on my car, but I do find myself quite often waking up in the middle of the night thinking about other things...

Story ideas, sports, politics, even religion...those are the topics that sometimes keep me awake.

I've known people who say they only need around four hours of sleep a night and since I don't live with those people, I have to take their word for it. Still, I believe there are people who only need a few hours of sleep each night and I've always been a little jealous of them, wishing I too only needed a few hours to sleep.

If so, what would I do with all that extra time? If I only needed half the time I usually take to sleep, what would I do? Would I starting writing a new short story or begin a novel? Would I solve the world's political problems, or dream of my favorite teams winning various championships? Even if I did those things, or dreamt of those things, I probably wouldn't be very productive. I'd probably do what I usually do when I wake up in the middle of the night and can't fall back to sleep...

I'd play solitaire on my phone.

The Agony Of Sports...Oh, I've Been There

 I lifted this picture from the Real Salt Lake Instagram page. Since Sunday night their Instagram page has been flooded with pictures showing athletes clan in cobalt and blue celebrating an incredible win, a win against odds, a win that--on paper and in most people's minds--should not have happened. The soccer team is ecstatic, overjoyed, very very happy.

But, there's something else in this picture...

The fans in blue.

The fans feeling blue.

We see a dozen or so fans and not a single smile on any of their faces. No, for them, the joy of the athletes is in direct contrast to what they are feeling in that moment. For almost an hour, the fans in Kansas City were confident their team would not only keep the lead, but be ahead at the end of the match. After all, Sporting Kansas City is a superior program. They beat this same team years ago to win the MLS championship. They have played better this year and many other years. In all fairness, that 1 - 0 lead they had should stand and the team should move on.

But in sports especially, fairness many times simply doesn't exist. 

Oh, I've been there. I've been one of those fans--almost never wearing blue--but feeling blue after I've watched the teams I've backed fall, sometimes in close games, sometimes in blow-outs. The final score doesn't really matter if your team has fewer points than the other team...a loss is a loss. Of course, the closer the game, the tougher the loss is on the fans. At least, that's how it is for me.

I celebrate Real Salt Lake's past two victories. They went on the road and beat two higher-ranked teams sending fans of both teams home feeling like crap. They have another game where they'll go on the road and face a team they're not supposed to beat. Will the home fans go home happy, or sad? Will I be the one sharing the joy of my team, or will I have the look of those fans in Kansas City, looking blue?

We'll find out next Saturday night.

Go Real!

Still...Can't Believe He's Gone

 This is a post I've dreaded to write, but I know I must. It still feels unreal, as if it hasn't happened, but no matter how it feels, the fact is our family has lost a loved one, and it hurts.

On Wednesday, November 10th John passed away. I've known John for almost thirty years. We met when I met my wife's family, back when we were dating. John married my wife's oldest sibling. They had three small children when I joined the family. Now, those three kids have children of their own, children and grandchildren who have lost a father and grandfather.

As the family's oldest and longest in-law John always maintained a special place in the family hierarchy. We looked up to him, and not just because he was taller than the rest of us. When we gathered at their home or with the extended family, we looked to John to organize, to be a wonderful host. The above picture was taken eight years ago when we visited Pam and John in California and they spent an entire day walking around the city, all for us, all to make our visit as enjoyable as possible...something they didn't have to do.

Their children grew up in Utah and once they left to pursue their own lives, John and Pam moved to California. Since then, we've only seen them occasionally, not enough, really. We used to go to John's house many times when they lived close, for family parties, for holidays, even to support their children in sports and other activities. It's always been both of them...they were inseparable, "Pam and John" were like one. 

Being adopted, I always knew that I was "placed" in my family. When I married, I joined another family. I never felt excluded when I got married. John was a big reason for that. He always treated me with respect. Whenever John and I spoke, I knew the conversation would be interesting, and not just on a surface level. John was a thinker, but not someone who needed to let everyone know how much he knew. That was not his style.

Maybe it's because they moved and we saw them so infrequently. Maybe it's because I've always known them as a pair, but it's still difficult for me to accept his passing. It seems so unreal...so wrong.

We are a family in mourning. One of our leaders, our fathers, our friends is no longer with us. It is the way of life, of course. It just happened so quickly, so unexpected. And when the family gathers in the future, there will be a void...a void I'm still forcing myself to accept.

"8 Bit Christmas"...A True Gem

 Things (it seems...) were simpler in the 1980s. Maybe they seem simpler because there were fewer things, fewer people, fewer cars, fewer, channels to watch, fewer forms of entertainment.

When it comes to Christmas entertainment, there seemed to be fewer things, too. There was no Hallmark Channel or Lifetime Channel or half a dozen other channels that played Christmas movies from Halloween to New Years (and again in July...). No, back then, if you wanted to see a new Christmas movie, you had to get off your behind, get in a car, and go to a movie theater to see it.

That's where I saw A Christmas Story, and that's just the way it was.

It's been so long since I sat in a theater and watched A Christmas Story. It's such a classic, and even though I did not grow in in the 1930s when the show was set, I think every child can identify with not getting what they want for Christmas, or if not Christmas, wanting something so badly, you think of nothing else.

I've often wondered it there would be another film that could capture the joy, the innocence of A Christmas Story. 

I think we found one.

Last night my wife and I decided to check out a new film. With so many to chose from, you never know if they'll be good or not. I had just read a tweet from someone that said they saw a show called 8 Bit Christmas and they loved it. We thought we'd give it a shot.

Wonderful, lovely show!

8 Bit Christmas is the story of a boy not wanting a Red Rider BB gun for Christmas, but something even more unobtainable to a child without means in the late 1980s...A Nintendo Entertainment System. Once again, this was not my age group--this time I was a little older than the child, but so much of it hit home. And the performances by the child actors were exceptional. Crisp funny writing, believable family situations, over-the-top (at times...) memories of childhood. It all added up to a gem of a little story.

Because we live in such an amazing time, we can watch our favorite Christmas movies whenever we want. I believe we'll be adding 8 Bit Christmas to our collection of favorites. And I didn't even have to go to the theater to see it.

Black Friday...We (Sort Of...) Did Not Participate

 The two pictures on this post were not taken today. They were taken before this week, before Black Friday. I know the whole world's change in the past couple of years, but I've to to say, I miss shopping on Black Friday.

You know what I mean. There was once a time when all stores closed on Thanksgiving and then beginning around midnight for some, 4am for others, the stores would open their doors and the hoards would charge in, back when you'd pull up in the middle of the night and there'd already be lines of people freezing their keisters off all hoping to score on the big-ticket items...TVs, and electronic items mostly.

We didn't go hog wild, as others did. We usually just went to Target...it was the closest big store to us. We'd spend a few hours and see what we could find. I remember getting a 10x Pixel Kodak digital camera for one-hundred dollars. That was a steal back then. I also remember looking at the line of shoppers waiting to check out, the line going back into the kids shoes section. So with a couple of shopping carts and us wanting to be home before noon, we casually asked the worker stationed at the jewelry counter if she could check out our stuff. There was no line and she said, "Yes." We saved several hours that blessed Black Friday.

We only went Black Friday shopping a few times. Then, came the internet and online shopping and the way we did Black Friday shopping changed. You didn't have to freeze or get up in the middle of the night--a few well-timed clicks and that prized item discounted 15 to 30% could be yours.

That's when I think stores began staying open on Thanksgiving so there was no need to camp out or do the things that we used to do. I sort of miss those days, even though they were crazy and un-Christian, and people actually died trying to get whatever it was they thought was more important than human life.

We had to run an errand today. On the way home we stopped by the Main Street Mercantile to pick up some things, and there just happened to be a Black Friday sale going on. We went in and bought some Christmas gifts. There was no long lines, no fights in the aisles, no waking up at 2am or standing outside in the cold, but it was still fun.

Happy Thanksgiving...From The Happy Little Valley

 This morning, I did not get up early and run a 5k or 10k or any k. I also did not meet on a field and try and reclaim some ancient glory of days gone by to participate in a "turkey bowl" football game. I think doing either of those things would result in repercussions of a "serious injury" kind. No, to do those things, I would need training...months and months of training.

Instead, I did my usual. I went on a hike up the hill.

The chill nipped my nose and face as I walked among the dying grass and discarded items one finds on a hillside above a growing community. When I reached the highest part of the hill I could go without trespassing, I turned and took a panoramic photo with my phone. The high clouds and a bit of smog prevented an unfiltered view, but it was spectacular none the less.

We have come to love this happy little valley.

Except, it's not that "little." It's quite large, actually. Maybe the lack of people upon people makes it feel little. That'll change, with time. Even though we have to drive everywhere and those drives take longer than they used to do, it feels small at times.

No, I did not get up and push my body to its physical limits this morning. Instead, I caught a glimpse of an incredible valley, a valley where people have worked and toiled and sweat and bled to battle the elements and grow strong families, and where they continue to do so. Do I regret not doing a run or trying to move a football down a field (or preventing from others doing the same...)? Not at all. The view was worth it.

Happy Thanksgiving from our little family happily residing in this little valley.

So...Funny Story

 A few days ago I posted a picture of a simple can of Coke with the caption: "Perhaps the most delicious...and most expensive Coke...I've ever had." 

Confusing? A little. Cryptic? Definitely.

A few asked why this particular can of cola was both the most delicious and expensive.

Funny story...

...that will affect my Thanksgiving.

For as long as I can remember, I've had an issue with my throat. Simply put, I have a narrow esophagus, so much so, things will get caught in my throat when I try to swallow. This does not affect my breathing or anything else, just swallowing. I lived with this condition all my life and occasionally, something would get stuck, then it would pass (literally...) in a little while. I've had procedures done to improve the situation and it did, but the condition returned. We all have our own issues and this is one for me. No complaints...just the way thing are.

Last Monday, I'm having lunch and the mouthful of food doesn't go down. No problem...give it some time, things will work out. This usually takes maybe five, ten, or fifteen minutes for it to pass. When it was still stuck an hour later, I started to get annoyed. When one hour turned into four with no movement whatsoever, it looked like I was headed to the E.R.

That hasn't happened for decades, since I was maybe five-years old.

Thankfully, the local hospital is about a mile down the road. The on-call doctor said one thing that helps getting things unstuck is drinking a soda. I haven't had a coke or any soft drink for months. It was a habit I was glad to have "kicked" but heck...I'll try anything to dislodge whatever it was that was stuck. Now, I had not eaten anything most of the day. I only got through half my lunch before I had to stop. 

I've got to say, that Coke tasted great! I had hopes it would work, but unfortunately, it did not work and I was unable to finish the drink. But, boy--it was delicious.

It was expensive because I had to go to the E.R. to get it. I left the hospital a few hours later, after being put under and having a surgeon put a scope down my throat and push the object down. How narrow is my throat? The thing that was stuck was a black bean from my steak salad lunch from Costa Vida...not a big chunk of steak, but a bean, a small black bean.

Yesterday and today I've been on a liquid diet. I have to be careful of what I eat for a while. Today was better than yesterday and I'm hoping tomorrow will be better than today. The truth is, I will not be able to eat a traditional Thanksgiving day meal tomorrow or for a few days after that. I'm okay with that--I've had fifty-five Thanksgivings (at least one of those was a liquid meal...). It will make me appreciate the food--all food--even more. 

So, everyone out there, I wish you the safest and happiest of Thanksgivings! Eat a turkey leg and an extra helping of stuffing for me. I'll be fine with just a can of Coke...

At least, this year I will.

Can't Escape Organized Choirs...They're Everywhere

 There's a lot of things I miss. I miss them for different reasons. Many of the things I miss came about because I've gotten older...being in shape, fitting in my clothes, not having body parts ache, my hair. There's other things I miss, though I don't know I'd like them if I had them now as much as I think I would. Prime example...my first car, the 1965 green Volkswagen beetle. I'd probably curse that car more than I would praise it if I owned it today.

The car, along with my hair, are gone and not coming back. Then there are things I miss because of our move. I miss doing plays and having so many opportunities to perform for others. Yes, there are theaters up here--not as many, but some. 

One thing I've missed, be it where we used to live or where we live now, is singing. In college I sang everyday. Even after graduating, I was involved in a choir for a few years, then other choirs here and there. Because of the pandemic, singing stopped, even at church. That was tough. No choirs were meeting, no concerts being given. There's a void of life without music and for those who sing, the void is bigger, deeper, darker.

Last Sunday, I was leaving our services and I noticed a poster advertising a Christmas Concert. I was so happy not only to see that they had an organized choir in our area, but that they were putting on shows. Even though I'm not a part of the group, it made me feel good that others have resumed doing something they love.

I haven't lived in many areas, so I don't know if everyone has organized choirs, but I do know that even at the top of Utah, we've got one. And I'm glad we do.

So...Maybe Thanksgiving Food Isn't For Everyone

 I lifted this photo from Facebook. A friend posted it and when I showed it to my wife, she had a good laugh. We both did, actually. We laughed because of the truth found in the picture and the accompanying sentence. 

My wife and I were talking about this very thing today. Kids thee days... I mean, the food we serve at Thanksgiving is not the kind of food that we generally eat. I remember as a kid there would be food I would love and food I'd never eat when the Thanksgiving meal was served. Candy yams...that was a "no" for me and remained so for decades. My tastes eventually changed, but even today, I'll check first to see if it's something I want to eat. Not all candy yam dishes are equal.

The food is tradition. Some traditions take longer accepting than others.

I can't blame kids for not liking all the "fixins" that are served. I probably gave my mom fits growing up and I know I didn't appreciate all the hard work she put in to fill a table with incredible food. Now, it's too late for me to enjoy a wonderful Thanksgiving meal with her. Maybe she's watching form Heaven and she's laughing when our own kids stock up on rolls.

Give Thanks...For A Day And Year That Shouldn't Be Forgotten

 This afternoon our family gathered for a celebration. Since our oldest got married, seeing him on a daily basis stopped--life has gone on for them as it should. We miss seeing him everyday but understand that life is meant for our children to leave and have a family of their own. It happened to us after we got married. It's happening to us now, and it will happen to our children as they have kids that grow up and have their own families. Today, we were back together again, with my son, his wife, and their new kitten.

At the beginning of the month, my wife found a a lovely piece of art highlighting Thanksgiving. We stuck it up on our mantel, where it will reside for a few more days until snowmen, small stuffed woodland animals, and a Santa or two will take its place as Christmas descends and Thanksgiving retreats.

It's a shame, in a way. Thanksgiving seems to be (sometimes...) the forgotten holiday, even though its importance should not be forgotten...it sometimes is. It leaves like the aromas from the kitchen table after the smells of a Thanksgiving meal vanish into a chilly November evening.

Last year, I--along with millions of others--were given a challenge. We were to post things for which we were grateful on social media and use the hashtag #GiveThanks for our thoughts and feelings. The challenge was for one week. I accepted and fulfilled the challenge and I decided to dedicate each Sunday's blog posts to do the same thing. I know I missed a few weeks, but I've probably posted almost fifty blog posts where I tried highlighting something I'm grateful for.

I know we're not immune to the hardships of life. We've had family members get sick, pass away, others have endured job losses and personal crises. I'm knocking on wood here, but for the most part, we've been blessed to have avoided the worst of what life has to offer. I know that can't last forever--it's just part of the plan, part of the deal. Since there's opposition in all things, with great joy comes great pain...two sides of the same coin.

It's Sunday evening. My son and his wife are now at their home (with their kitten...). Those still under our roof are in various rooms. We'll gather before we go to sleep to say a family prayer and say goodnight. Considering how my life could have turned out, I can't think of anyone who's been more blessed than me. In so many ways, every hour of every day, my life has been full of love surrounded by amazing people. Yes, sometimes the holiday is not given its due. I hope I can always be thankful for this past year, and what lies ahead.

Happened Upon Main Street Mercantile In Tremonton Today...Lovely

"Can we stop at that little shop on the way home?" my wife asked as we drove to the grocery store for supplies. It was technically a question, but I thought it would be fun, so not stopping wasn't really an option. We had the time and it was such a beautiful day to be out and about.

After fetching the necessities at the grocery store, we pulled up to the storefront on Tremonton's Main Street. We looked at the time--they close at 2pm. "It's 2:55pm," I said as we both glanced at the clock in Donk The Subaru's dashboard. "Isn't that clock an hour fast?" my wife asked. She was, of course, correct. I have yet to adjust for Daylight Savings. We only had a few minutes to check to check out the place.

We could have used more time.

Tremonton's Main Street Mercantile is, in a word...

Lovely.

It's the kind of place that doesn't overwhelm the senses, but more of a cozy shop that grows more amazing as you take time to get a good look at the items, see them for what they are, appreciate the craftsmanship that went in to building, creating, and assembling the various things. It's a consignment shop for local and non-local artists. It's like the sign outside says, Just Like Etsy, But In Real Life.

 We wanted to honor the shop's hours of operation, so we didn't stay very long. Both my wife and I left thinking of things we could create to add to their inventory. It was a joy to walk inside the little shop and am glad people out there are willing to take the risk and put themselves out there with their art, all in an effort to make the world a better place. Well done, and thanks to those behind Main Street Mercantile for taking a risk as well.

...and I hope they don't mind I lifted two pictures from their Facebook business page for this post. ;)

Yeah...That's The Back Of Our TV

 You're seeing a picture of the back of one of our TVs because this afternoon, I hooked up a sound bar to better experience the wonder that is television. We found the cheapest sound bar we could find (and I do mean cheap...). It's amazing how advanced TVs have come in less than a century.

The first TV I remember was not an RCA, or Curtis Mathis, or Magnavox. No, it was a Heathkit. If you're not familiar with Heathkit, it was the Ikea of TVs. Basically, you built it yourself. The first TV I watched was built by my father. It ran on vacuum tubes, and it didn't get the public television channels, so no Sesame Street, no Big Bird and the like. The first time I ever saw a muppet was when I attended kindergarten and they wheeled in a TV for all us to watch. I don't remember a lot about kindergarten, but I do remember all the kids knew exactly what the show was and I had no clue.

Fast forward a half a century. TVs have changed, like everything else. They're smaller and larger. They're cheaper and more expensive. They're modern marvels of technological advancement, and this afternoon if we had the newest model of a Samsung TV, I would have been able to simply hook up the HDMI cable that came with the sound bar to the HDMI connection in the TV dedicated exclusively to an audio output.

But, because the TV is a few years old, our particular TV has no dedicated audio output for an HDMI cable. I had to find another way to get the sound bar to work. It took a while, but I did it. The reason I took a picture is because the TV currently sits in a corner of the room and I was unable to see the back of the TV clearly, so I took a picture and that helped me hook things up.

My dad was an amazing man. I can't imagine what he would think of the world in which we live. I'm sure he would think much of what we take as "everyday" would be overwhelming.

And he'd be right. Oh, and the fact that I could use a portable device to snap a picture and see it immediately and be able to manipulate it and attach the picture instantaneously to a blog, well...that would blow his mind as well.

Ghosts...Or Ghosts?

 Funny, how we come across things that become part of us. I remember years ago listening to an audiobook from an indie author. I ran out of books to read/listen to so I came across an interview of the author. The interviewer said he himself had written some stories so I tracked him down and read a little from him. That sent me on another chase of a few more authors.

Funny, how we find things.

I don't know where I first heard about Ghosts but the other day when we seemed to run out of things to watch (which, is basically impossible considering all the things out there to watch...) I suggested we try a comedy called, Ghosts. 

That's when we found out there's not one series, but two...one American, and the other--the original--is from England. We started watching both of them. The last time I remember this happening--two series--was watching The Office. The difference with Ghosts is, the British version is still around and has more episodes than the American version. The Office was different. There were more American The Office episodes after half a season.

We haven't watched them all...only a few of each version. But, I love the concept(s)...in both series a woman inherits a mansion of a long-lost relative. The mansion is haunted by various people who have died on the property, which means people of different time period occupy the same space. Eventually the woman sees and can interact with the ghosts, though the husbands cannot. What I love is the potential of storylines available to the series and I'm interested to see where they take us.

I don't watch a lot of broadcast shows. In fact, if we had known there was a BBC version we might have given that one a shot years ago.

We liked what we saw, especially Ghosts from across the pond. Some of the ghosts are exactly the same in both versions, some are slight variations. I think the viking/caveman characters are my early favorites. 

If you're looking for a funny show, give Ghosts (plural) a shot...either version will do.

Looks Like We May Be Getting A Side Gig...Or Sidewalk Gig

 Due to a strange turn of events, my family might be doing something extra this upcoming season. And I don't quite know how that will affect us.

What is the side gig, you ask?

Shoveling snow.

We live in a new neighborhood, so new, that they're still building homes and they will continue building homes until the land is gone. There will be hundreds of structures joining us within a few years. Personally, I think people getting homes for their families is a good thing. Now, we haven't been asked to remove snow from everyone, but for a specific neighborhood.

Because of labor shortages, a snow removal contract was canceled for the neighborhood to the west of us. This is a community of older residents and they did have contracts in place to have snow shoveled from their driveways, but that has ended, and they need people to help them out when the snow flies. We talked to our boys a few months ago when the community first came to us to see if we would be interested in the job and the boys thought it would be a good way to make money. It's possible we'll become the snow removal service for several homes.

I must admit, I'm a little apprehensive taking on this responsibility. What if we get hit with a bumper crop of snow this winter? Will we be able to do it? Will we get yelled at by dissatisfied customers?

Possibly.

But, it's also a chance to start something, something that could end up being a business for one of our kids, something that can help build positive attributes for all of us. Yes, it might be more trouble than it's worth, but we don't know that yet and will only find out if we take the plunge. As with most things, time will tell.

Congratulations, Chuck! All That Hard Work...Is Paying Off

 I've had the honor of sharing the stage with Chuck Gilmore on more than one occasion. If you have had the same opportunity, you know what I'm talking about when I say as talented an actor and singer that he is, he's a better man. So, when he posted a milestone in his social media endeavors, I couldn't be happier for him.

Chuck is the man behind Power To Sing. It's his brand and Chuck's specialty is improving your ability to sing, to sing better, to sing with more confidence, to build upon your talent. As far as online campaigns go, improving the talents of others is more than worth while...it's nourishment for the soul. If only all of us did what Chuck does to help others, the world would be a better place to live.

Chuck posted in Instagram that he had surpassed 100k subscribers on his YouTube channel. One-hundred thousand, a tenth of a million. As I'm sure Chuck can tell you, this level of success does not happen overnight. It takes years...years of regularly posting new content, years of not quitting. About a decade ago, I started a podcast (before it was cool...) and the toughest thing for me was keeping it going. I made the mistake of not setting regular times to post new episodes. Without that self-discipline, the podcasts didn't get recorded, edited, and were never created.

If you ever get the chance to meet Chuck, or see him on stage, you should. If you're interested in what Chuck does, you can become a new subscriber by accessing his YouTube channel by clicking: HERE. You can also visit his website by clicking: HERE. I'm glad people like Chuck are out there improving the world, and in Chuck's case, it's improving the world one voice at a time. 

Just How Much Is It Worth Anyway...?

 I recently came across a basketball card...won it in a raffle, actually. So, I'm not really out any money and there were a couple of things I could choose from when I found out I won. I chose a 1993 Topps 50 Point Club basketball card featuring Michael Jordan.

I have no knowledge of the worth of these cards. I've done some research on other collectable things--Beanie Babies, American coins, and the like. Back in the 1990s I even collected a few basketball cards, mostly because I had a co-worker who owned a store that sold trading cards. I chose the card because I thought it would be fun, and who knows? It might be worth something.

But, exactly how much is it worth?

Apparently, it could be worth ten bucks, or a thousand.

No one seems to know.

First thing I did was come home and do an internet search. I typed in: "Topps 50 point club card" and "Michael Jordan." The results were all over the board. The first one that came up was a similar card for sale for $9.95. It was on Ebay. I've never purchased anything from Ebay so I'm not sure what that means, exactly, especially when a few spots down from that Ebay listing a similar card for $249.00. Further down, another card was for sale for $1000.00. So, who really knows, anyway?

I suppose the old adage is true--something is worth what someone is willing to pay for it. So, my question isn't how much is it worth anyway? But, would anyone out there willing to give me a cool grand for my card? If so, I'd live to do a deal. ;)

Give Thanks...Creativity

 Around 2007 or 2008 my job where I worked was eliminated. I was given another job within the company--thankfully--but that decision was a tough one. Within the organization, I was in a sense banished. It took me a while to get over it, to realize that a person is "not just their job." 

What does that story have to do with a used pair of Vans shoes I bought at Tremonton's newest thrift store for $5 yesterday?

Interesting question...

The ending of a job more than a decade ago began a series of events that ultimately led me to finding and exploring a creative side of life. Had the job not ended, I wouldn't have been placed into another position--one I didn't choose exactly. Had that not happened, I probably wouldn't have made the decision to return to school and get my master's degree. I didn't want to get an MBA or an MPA...no I needed to study something else.

Something creative.

I chose English. Not the most profitable of concerns, but it's a decision that changed my life. Because I earned that degree, I started writing. I was eventually published and came to know dozens and dozens of other creatives...writers, artists, editors, performers. Since that decision to end my job was made, I have experienced amazing things, met amazing people, and produced some stories that have hopefully made others happy.

I noticed something on the pair of shoes I bought at the thrift store. A previous owner wrote a message...simple, using only symbols. I wondered if it was something "the kids" said, something hip those in the know used. Then again, it could just be a clever way to convey a message. "I love you to the moon and back...Heart, letter U, back and forth arrows, and the moon.

Creativity. 

There were so many times I cursed (not really...) those who decided to end my job back then. But, had it not happened, there's so much I would have missed out on. I'm grateful for being able to see that creative side. I'm grateful I chose to join them.

One Man's Trash...

 I've blogged several times about the wonderful field that is just east of our house. It's only a matter of time before that field becomes first streets, then foundations, then homes and yards. People need places to live and I hope many can find out what an amazing place it is where we live and join us on the gently slopping hill.

But, I haven't blogged much about what's north--at least, not for a while. North of us the hill continues. I'm sure, in time, that will also be filled with homes and yards, RV pads, and backyard barbecues. The more the merrier. Before they developed our subdivision, the hill was farther from civilization and there's evidence that the hill was used as a landfill for some. There's old window frames, a lot of old barrels, and other items strewn across the land, some new, some not. I doubt there's anything of value semi-buried near the sagebrush and wild grasses, but I stopped and looked anyway on my last hike. I wanted to see what it was that people threw away.

That's when I came across an old bottle. It was covered inside by a film so I couldn't tell how old it was. I'm no expert in dating objects, but it was small and portable so I decided to take it home and clean it up. 

I did, and after washing it up a bit, I'm still convinced it's not worth any money, not that the value was the only reason I picked it up. As I walked down the mountain I thought about something. Years ago someone hiked--but most likely drove--up the hill and dumped their trash. That bottle might have stayed on that hill for years, maybe even decades if I hadn't picked it up. One man's trash becomes another man's object of interest. 

There's a good chance it will end up in the trash again, only this time it will be placed in a municipal container and driven away to another landfill, a proper landfill, a legal landfill. 

Who knows--maybe one day someone years from now will take a hike near their home and come across the bottle, depending of course it remains in one piece. It will be older then. Will that person pick it up, take it home, and try and clean it up? My guess is if I throw it away, it will become something no human will ever again see.

Dog Jail...

 A few years ago, we were visiting my cousin's house and I was impressed by their dog. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to  hang out with him while we were there...he didn't like visitors, but just before we left, they commanded the dog to go to his kennel. 

And immediately, the dog went up the stairs and went into his kennel.

Impressive.

Now, it's been a couple of years since that happened and my memory is a little fuzzy, but I believe it happened that way. I was reminded of that memory the other day when I passed by our stairs and our dog was behind the gate. This happens when we need to dog to stay out of the kitchen, or when someone comes to the door. He's just so excited to meet the visitors that he loses control. He'll bark and jump up on the people--not to attack them, but to someone who doesn't know the dog, it could appear that way.

To remedy the problem, we tell the dog to go "down" and we put up the gate. He's such a well-trained dog that he knows when someone comes to the door, he needs to go downstairs. He's also such a well-trained dog that even though he could jump over the gate in one bound or simply push it over with his nose, he doesn't. Being afraid of the sound the gate makes as it smashes on the floor is the main reason he doesn't do that.

Dogs are amazing creatures. My cousin's dog, our dog--as far as those commands go--they're great. Of course, this isn't always the case. And on those occasions, our dog sometimes goes to dog jail.

We're just glad he's so good at obeying. But, oh that look he gives us when he's in jail...classic "Please let me out" look.

Happy Veterans Day, Dad...And Thank You

 There's a lot of crap out there on social media, and at times I've posted things that probably haven't added much to the greater good. But, there are times when I actually love most of the posts on social media. When are those times?

During holidays.

Today in America is Veterans Day, the 2021 edition. My father's family is well represented in military service. Dad and his brothers served well. I'm always proud to tell anyone who will listen that my dad and four of his brothers all served in WWII, and better yet, they all survived. My father passed away when I was young. It's highly possible had he not, perhaps one of us children may have continued the military tradition. As things turned out, my family's military story ended with him.

As I scrolled through the various social media sites today, post after post sent one singular message: thank you. Many included pictures of flags, or photos of relatives who have served along with their message of thanks. In a way, it helps bolster my faith in humanity. We bicker and fight about trivial things time and time again, but days like today, like Memorial Day, Like Thanksgiving, Easter, and Christmas, many see issues beyond themselves and thank others for the freedoms they enjoy.

Since beginning this blog back in 2011, I've written something on every Veterans Day and I've included these pictures before. I have few memories of my father. These, and other pictures of my father hold a special place for me. I see a man only eighteen-years old living in a foreign land fighting a war against evil. 

And if I knew nothing else about him, I would know that he was willing to die for people he never met for a cause he felt was worth the price. That is an honorable man. Today we honor and remember him and millions of other men, women, and their families who have done the same.

Some Stake Boundaries Are Bigger Than Others...Even In Utah

 If you live in Utah and if you are part of the predominant religion, where you attend church is almost entirely decided by where you live. Like most organizations, large groups are divided up into smaller units. In the case of the LDS church, areas are divided into stakes. Stakes are made up of smaller congregations called wards, and even smaller units called branches. 

There's usually somewhere between 8-12 wards/branches in a stake. The size of branches, wards, and stakes are based on the number of members living in a particular area. In Utah, there happens to be a lot of members of the church so that means the areas of branches, wards, and stakes are small...

Or, most of them anyway.

A year ago we moved from the most populated county in the state to one of the lesser populated ones. Box Elder County where we now live has one big city, a few smaller towns, then a lot of open space, especially to the west. There's just nothing out there, or very little. The other day I was bored so I looked up the boundaries of the stake in which we now live.

Needless to say, it's huge.

When I served my LDS mission I lived in Denmark. The entire country has two stakes. I've lived in areas with big stakes boundaries, and small. In Farmington Utah, where we used to live, there's close to ten stakes in that small area alone. It's unusual to have such a large stake in Utah. Just another way life here is a bit...different

What If...?

 Last month I posted a picture of a car currently decomposing in a field near my house. A few things--first, it's a Volkswagen, which automatically makes me interested. If it were a Caprice Classic, or a Festiva rotting in the field, I might have looked, but I doubt I would have circled back and taken a picture of the car.

Next, the condition of the car, at least from what I could see, looks pretty good, considering... It's in one piece. It's got four tires and all the seats and benches. I did not climb the fence to get a better look because I didn't want to trespass, so I gazed from afar.

Seeing a car like this gets my mind buzzing...

What if?

If this were a VW beetle, just the car without an engine would be worth a couple of thousand dollars. That's still an insane thought to me, when there was a time I could buy a bug for around $500, a bug that ran and was in pretty good shape. This is a type 4 passenger vehicle. They made a square back version, a fast back version, and the one you see in the picture. Like a bug, the engine's in the back and it's air-cooled. It's not as classic as a bug, nor would it be (I imagine...) worth as much as a bug. However, since it is a classic VW, I'm sure it's worth more than it used to be.

What if I were to find the owner and see if he wanted to sell it for a price we could afford (which would be low...)? What if I somehow convinced my wife to allow an antique car to sit in our driveway for who knows how long? I mean, it could be a blast to fix up.

The problem is...I know me. I know that if I did somehow find the owner and he/she somehow sold me the car at a price that I could afford and if I somehow convinced my wife to let me do this (which is probably the toughest part of this "what if" scenario...), I'd probably just let it sit. It would cost money to get it it running and presentable. And when we acquire extra money, we usually use it to buy stuff like food or clothes or to fix the cars we use daily when they break down.

If I ever do take on such a project, I'll keep you posted.

Curse You, Lost Hour...Curse You!

 It seems like every other social media post today was a complaint about the Daylight Savings Time change. I add my voice to the others. But, of all the complaints I read on sites and also our group chat at work, there's something I noticed this time that I don't believe I've ever thought about before. It's a question, really.

Why does the time change seem to affect me more and more as I get older?

I remember back in the day, I used to love changing the clocks in the fall. I looked forward to sleeping in, or at least enjoying that extra hour of sleep when we had early church. It was glorious. But as I get older, that extra hour eludes me. Sunday morning, I woke around 7am, which was really 6am. This morning, I got up at 6am (old time...) which was really 5am (new time...). 

Bummer.

The "spring forward" always sucked. I thought I was somehow being robbed of something, even though I knew I would get whatever was robbed back in the future. That never helps when I lose the hour each spring. And if I can't take advantage of that extra hour (can't sleep in...), then it seems to me I lose twice.

 I've never lived in area that didn't change the time twice a year so I'm not sure what it's like to not do it. I can only imagine it's fantastic. Our state has tried to get the rule changed and I believe it's being held up on a federal level...I could be wrong about this and if so, I apologize.

Still...it would be fun to try.

Give Thanks...The First Member Of Our Family To Work At Lagoon

 Between shows last month my friend and Matt and I were talking as we were known to do did between shows. I'm not exactly sure how the subject came up (I think we were talking about Pioneer Village and how things used to be...). I told him I had a relative that used to work at Lagoon and I even had a picture of him. 

I went home, took a picture of the picture ,and showed it to Matt the next time I worked.

It's a pretty amazing thing, actually.

In the picture George Richard Knight sits beside the famous 999 steam engine, an engine that is still at Lagoon and at one point was in use when Pioneer Village first opened in the 1970s. Apparently, the little engine is on display in the village at their train museum. I didn't get a chance to check it out this season...maybe next time. 

My mother's grandfather was born in Salt Lake City in 1868, only a few years after the end of the US Civil War. He passed away in 1917. I was told the picture of him and the train was taken when he and his family lived in Ogden and worked as a railroad engineer. They moved to the Teton Valley in Idaho in 1906 so the picture is over one-hundred years old. I'm not exactly sure when it was taken.

I began working at Lagoon in 1982. I've worked there, off-and-on, since then. I worked in many departments on the park, but I never worked rides and therefore, have not had the opportunity to pilot the steam engines.

Then again, I'm pretty sure my great-grandfather never dressed up as a cowboy and fell off towers as part of a stuntman troupe (among other jobs I've had there...). I'm grateful to share this legacy with a man who died almost fifty years before I was born.

Denny's...No More

 My mother-in-law asked if we'd join her for lunch this morning. We jumped at the idea. Next, we had to decide where we wanted to go. Moving away from a huge metropolitan area had its advantages, but also some disadvantages--for example, the choices of where to eat out.

We sat around her kitchen table and discussed out options. We rattled off a few places we thought might be good, then I said, "There's Denny's." 

"There's a Denny's in town?" my mother-in-law asked. "Where?"

Across the street from McDonalds. She had never seen the restaurant in the twelve months we've lived here. We decided to go to a place close to the Denny's and as we drove passed the restaurant, we noticed it wasn't there anymore. Oh, the building still exists, but the signs were gone and the windows covered.

Denny's was gone.

To be honest, we hadn't been regular customers at Denny's. We'd eaten there a few times and even ordered out once. Denny's isn't someplace we'd feel like going every week, but there were certain times when Denny's was the perfect place to go. Now, if that urge hits us. we'll need to drive at least twenty miles away to enjoy a Moon Over My Hammy breakfast or something else from their iconic menu.

At lunch we explained to my mother-in-law that when she said she didn't think there was a Denny's in town, she was technically correct. It was us who was wrong. I'll bet that restaurant had existed in that location for decades, maybe thirty or forty years. I'm sure they had valid reasons for closing--the economy, covid, staffing issues. Still...it was nice when the town had a Denny's.

Oh...The Skies

Maybe it's because for several months this summer, you could barely see blue sky due to the smoke from western fires. Maybe it's because we're having a wet autumn, but most likely, the reason views from the dusk skies above our home last week took my breath away is because they were simply beautiful.

I get a chance to see the outside world as I sit in my office chair and work my shifts. But, when the clock chimes the end of the work day, I sometimes wander outside and see the world God created. The last couple of weeks, what has greeted me as I leave the house has been spectacular.

It's only our second autumn in this new land. A year ago we were spending our "free" time organizing the house and getting things settled. Now, things are put away and we have the opportunity to enjoy our surroundings. Since we're new I don't know if the same incredible skies will befall us next fall or the autumn after that. I sure hope so.

I will never tire of seeing such things.

 

Happy Birthday, Dad...And Belated Birthday, Mom

 Each year the odds of my parents being alive (had they not passed away years ago...) diminishes. Yes, thanks to advancements in medicine, nutrition, and over all knowledge about the human condition, people can live long lives. My parents lived longer than some, not as long as others.

Had my father survived cancer--diagnosed when he was forty-nine years old--he would have turned ninety-seven years old today.

97.

That's a long time.

Almost every part of the world has changed significantly since 1924. World Wars, technological innovations, standards of living improvements...I doubt my father would recognize my world. I know he would be in constant amazement by how far we've come, and shake his head at how we keep making the same mistakes. I miss my dad...I wish I had gotten to know him better.

A few days before Halloween, my mom, had she survived her cancer diagnosis, would have turned ninety this year.

90.

That's also a long time.

Mom lived into her seventies. Boy, she was a fighter. I blogged about my Halloween tradition of carving a pumpkin and setting it on her headstone, but on the day she would have turned ninety, I didn't mention it. I blogged about something else. I got to know my mother quite well in the almost forty-two years we had together. Even though I knew her better than my father, I still miss her terribly.

I love the picture of them camping together. Mom in a skirt and dad with a camera. That smile--he was in heaven, probably because my mother said something quirky. She was like that. They loved to camp, but they grew up in a different time, we think a simpler time, but they had issues and challenges, fears and dreams. 

Many times, I've wonder what it would be like to have my parents alive today. They'd be frail, probably not able to do many things they once did. Then again, there's a good chance they'd surprise me. Happy birthday, Dad and belated birthday, Mom. Hope you're having a grand time.

Watched "The Way Way Back" The Other Day...Great Film

The other day I came across a film I had previously seen. It's been at least a few years, but it's one of those films that stays with you, it somehow attaches to your soul and you carry it with you.

I think it's because--at least for me--the show picked me up and threw me back to my early teenage years and all that that implies.

Needless to say, growing up is hard.

This film brings into focus the summer of one fourteen-year old as he tries to do so.

You may never have heard of the film, The Way Way Back. We hadn't before we one day happened upon it. We thought we'd give it a chance and I found it to be a wonderful film. The teenager is Duncan, a boy who defines the term: awkward. The way he walks, communicates with others, handles the situations that befall him all scream "awkward.". Of course, in "coming of age" stories we need to see the "before" so we can appreciate the "after" and the story is how Duncan goes from a miserable kid to a less miserable kid with some amazing memories of his first job at a water park.

The performances from the leads and secondary characters are wonderful. We hop from a dysfunctional and arduous family environment to the local waterpark where Duncan has the opportunity to be, in his words, happy. Plus, it has one of the coolest cars I've seen in a film in a long time, a classic Buick Electra Estate Station Wagon...awesome car!

I had to do a search of past blog posts to see if I had written about this film before. It surprised me that I had not. The film was just a gem. It does deal with divorce and grown men behaving like children, and it may trigger some long-buried memories of what life was like in jr. high school. If you're okay with that, I recommend this one.

The Cat's New Weapon...Snuggles

 Animals have, over the years, developed ways to make their lives better, at least, that's the conclusion I've reached. They do things that--I can only surmise--they find satisfaction in doing. And I've got some personal experience to back this up.

Our cat has resorted to...

Snuggling.

Now, each cat is an individual with their own personalities, their own patterns and norms. I'm sure there are many many cats our there who like to snuggle, just as there are many that don't. Our particular cat would at times come and sit on my chest as I lay on the bed and watched TV. He's done that for a long time. After a while, he gets bored and leaves in search of something...I don't know what. Such is the nature of cats.

However, the past couple of times I've taken a break, the cat has maneuvered to my side and snuggled up against me. It's an odd move for him.

I've stated before on this blog that I do not understand cats. I did not grow up with them in our house and have only recently lived among them. I am learning, but snuggling from this cat was a surprise.

Of course, the whole thing could change tomorrow. He may change his mind and kick me off my own bed because of something I may or may not have done, or something the cat may believe I may or may not have done. I suppose time will tell.

Yes...snuggles. Say one thing about cats, they'll constantly surprise you.

When "Find My iPhone" And Other Options...Don't Work

 We had a little incident the other day that reminded me of another little incident that happened to me a few years ago.

I could not locate my phone.

No problem--after all, there's a built-in "find my iPhone function that comes with the phone. This was a phone we use for back ups. It used to be my main phone, but I when I got a new phone (and since we no longer have a landline...), the lost phone is for emergencies when we're gone and we need a phone at home.

My son used the phone and the next day, we couldn't find it. The first thing we did was call the phone number, of course--that should fix it. We hear the ring = we find the phone The problem was, I forwarded all the calls from the old phone to my new number. That way, anyone who had only the old number would reach me. 

Not so useful if you're trying to locate the old phone.

We tried the "Find My iPhone" function, but it wasn't registered so that didn't work.

We eventually found it, but the whole experience reminded me of something that happened a few years ago. I was assigned an e-mail address from a project I was working on. When I set it up, I mistakenly used the very e-mail address as one to use if/when I needed to change the password. The only problem with that is, if you forget your password (which I did...), they will send an e-mail with instructions to re-set the password to the e-mail address on record. And if that e-mail address is the one you cannot access because you forgot the password, then you're caught in an endless e-mail loop from which there is no escape.

I found the phone. I never figured out that e-mail thing.

Win some...lose some.