My own Bluth Boy Adventure
(But minus the other boy and with a girl friend)

We recently found ourselves in Southern California again. We were staying just outside of Laguna Beach, minutes away from the Bluth residence. (For the novice and ignorant: The Bluth family are the key protoganists in the best television program of the last 10 years- Arrested Development) We had a little time to kill so I decided that we needed to get a frozen banana.

It only took us 10 minutes to find out that the show wasn’t filmed in Orange County, where it is supposedly set. It was rather filmed in the more economical and convenient location of Marina del Rey and Culver City, just west of LA. What the heck, let’s make the trip.

The easiest spot to visit would be where the banana stand was located. According the the flirty lady at the Marina del Rey information booth it was at fishermans wharf. Sure enough, she was right. We went over there, took some shots, and talked to a few people who were around during the shooting.

The visit was great but it still hasn’t filled the void created when the show left the air over a year ago. I have all three seasons on DVD but it sucks not knowing that there won’t be anything fresh, I was particularly hoping to see who would go with Lucille to Mother Boy XXXI. Nonetheless it was a good run and in closing I will include a few favorite lines from the series. Feel free to post a few of your own.

Gob: Hey, guy. They tell me you're the actor who plays Marta's brother, Tio. Spanish actor: Como? Gob: Oh, you're gonna be in a coma, all right.

--
Michael Bluth: Do you know what they do to people who commit treason? George Sr.: First time. Michael Bluth: I've never heard of a second. George Sr.: I got the worst [bleep] George Sr.: -ing attorneys.

--
Michael: I burned it. Down to the ground. George Sr.: There was money in that banana stand. Michael: Well, it's all gone now. George Sr.: There was $250,000 lining the inside walls of the banana stand. Michael: What? George Sr.: Cash, Michael. What the hell did you think I meant when I said... [strangles Michael] George Sr.: [yells] There is money... in... the banana stand. Prison guard: [George Sr. quickly takes his hands off Michael] No Touching. George Sr.: No touching. Prison guard: No touching.

--
Steve Holt: I've made a huge mistake. Gob: I know the feeling. I had you. I'm your father, Steve Holt. I can't hide from it any more. Steve Holt: I won't forget this... Dad. Gob: [swallows roofie] I will. I will.

--
Narrator: In an effort to "hip" up his act, Gob had briefly introduced a puppet. [Gob is acting as a black puppet named Franklin in front of the family] Gob: [as Franklin] Can I tell you something, my man? Gob: [as himself] Sure, Franklin. Gob: [as Franklin] You are one cool [bleep] Gob: . Speaking of mothers, let me give that oatmeal some brown sugar. [the puppet 'kisses' Lucille] George Sr.: Get off my wife, you bastard. [strangles Franklin] Gob: [as Franklin] What's the matter with you? Gob: [in the present] Franklin said some things Whitey wasn't ready to hear. Michael: Gob, weren't you also mercilessly beaten outside of a club in Torrance for that act? Gob: He also said some things that African-American-y wasn't ready to hear either.

--
Michael: What do you think of when you hear the name, "Sudden Valley"? George Michael Bluth: Salad dressing. But I don't really want to eat it. Michael: What about, "Paradise Gardens"? George Michael Bluth: Yeah... I can see myself marinating a chicken in that...

--
Buster: Mom is becoming a little controlling. Michael: What tipped you off? When she locked you out on the balcony again? Buster: That was half my fault. I thought I saw a Graham Cracker out there. Michael: You baited the balcony? Lucille Bluth: Prove it.

--
Lucille Bluth: Did that Mexican girlfriend of yours kick you out? Gob: She's not "*that* Mexican," Mom, she's "*my* Mexican." And she's Colombian or something.

--
Michael: [discussing evidence that links George Sr. to Saddam Hussein] If this information was so damaging, why didn't you just shred it? George Sr.: Well, Saddam owed us money. Michael: And you didn't realize that he wouldn't pay? George Sr.: Your mom had a good feeling about him.

--
Lindsay Funke: Barry, did you talk to a doctor? Barry Zuckerkorn: I did. I have poison oak. Do you believe it? How the hell did I get that? [Cut to a shot of a rest area] Lucille Bluth: She was talking about George. Barry Zuckerkorn: Oh, he's the same. Look, I guess we should decide on who's going to speak for the family. I would, but I have Laker tickets. [Cut to a shot of the rest area]

--
George Michael Bluth: Don't you always say "family first"? Michael: Yes, I do. But that is not a family. Okay? They're a bunch of greedy, selfish people who have our nose. And Aunt Lindsay. George Michael Bluth: She's not my real aunt? Michael: Not her real nose. Got a picture of her when she was 14 in a swimming cap. She looks like a falcon.

--
Lucille: Buster. Thank God you're back. There's no shame in being a coward. Buster: A coward? I'm not a coward. Would I coward have THIS? [holds out a stuffed seal] Lucille: What the hell is that? Buster: These are my awards, Mother. From Army. The seal is for marksmanship and the gorilla is for sand racing.

Getting our red lights turned on

The Police (Dodger Stadium)

June 23rd, 2007

Ever since the Police announced their reunion tour in February I toyed with the idea of seeing them live. Their music left a big mark on my teenage years and I was always told that they generated a great energy live. The deal was sealed when my very persausive friend held out some good tickets in front of my face. Not one to turn down a good concert, nor a chance to be with friends; I decided to go. After all, this could be the only time that I ever get a chance to hear "Invisible Sun" live.

So I set out with three life long friends to the sunny and mild clime (relative to Phoenix) of Southern California. We would spend the day at the beach and then pass the evening at the concert. Our expectations weren't too high; the real treat was listening to the songs with the same kids that made them special to me.

The evening didn't get started with the band that we'd hoped. That can be blamed on the bumper to bumper gridlock that we were subjected to for about two hours. My heart goes out to the poor people who have to deal with LA on a regular basis. I mean, 25 miles in two hours? The insanity. We were stuck on this elaborate concrete labyrinth and every route we took was frought with Toyotas and Hondas. Luckily our dash board navigation system helped us find a surface street that shaved 30 minutes off the tail end of the drive. With our spirits bouyed we parked our car in the red light district and made the trek up to Chavez Ravine, home of the Los Angeles Dodgers.

Since it is LA every thing was behind. We were suprised that we only missed the first half of the Foo Fighters performance. I kind of feel bad for the band. You are a grammy winning band and you are playing in front of a half full stadium of people who came to see some old guys sip geritol and play hits from 25 years ago. I did enjoy the three songs that we heard and I didn't feel too bad because I've already seen those guys live.

It was time to start the show. With our $6 dodger dogs in hand we prepared for the grand entrance. Finally the lights dimmed and our experience commenced. I believe that they started off with "Don't Stand". I'm not certain because I was distracted by the gossiping, pot-smoking chicks behind us. There were alot of those kinds of people around. The Police are "in" right now. Being "in" attracts that kind of crowd.

The band played through hit after hit without changing instruments or making stops. Pretty suprising considering their age. They sounded fairly tight and kept the songs basic. I noticed that they changed the key and tempo of many songs. I didn't mind too much but I believe that some nearby purists were upset. Too be honest, I wasn't exceptionally impressed with the new arrangements. Sting still managed to get the crowd to sing the chorus on just about every song.

The concert ended after approximately two hours. Long enough to cover most hits but too short to delve into some of their obscure stuff. My expectations were met. I wasn't expecting to be blown away and I wasn't. But I did enjoy my time and the company. Now I can say that I've seen the Police. I do hope that this is only a one time tour and that they don't milk a few more milllion dollars out of fans for years to come. In my opinion you are only entitled to one "greatest hits" tour. I would feel completely ripped off if they keep touring without any new material. Damn, the Stones, Neil Diamond, and the Eagles for setting such a bad example.

Fiddlin' with my dreams

Awhile back I set a goal to perform some of my music live. My singing teacher, knowing that my confidence was as shaky as an octogenerian on Viagra, reccommended that I try a local spot called the Fiddlers Dream. (www.fiddlersdream.org) It is a local spot that specializes in acoustic music for performers of all levels.

Jodi and I checked it out last night. Here are a few thoughts......

• It is run and operated by the "Friends of the Quakers" or something. As expected it was a very welcoming and docile environment. It's great, my music could suck but I would only get cheers. The majority of the attendees were middle aged hippie/folksters who preached inclusiveness and a good time. Unfortunately, since no alcohol or drugs are allowed, they had to get high on the music. There was also a mix of middle aged average joes who just can't put their guitars down and a few young kids wanting to test their stuff out, heckle free, before going in front of more brutal audiences.
• This is the perfect place for an NPR piece. It could focus on the small enclaves of authentic folk that still thrives in a world of strip malls and blogs.
• It literally looked and felt like a glorified clubhouse. It was behind the church and probably holds no more then 40-50 people. The quarters are pretty tight. There is a little concession stand in the back, serving a few flavors of coffee.
• Most people attending were performers, the remaining few most likely the immediate family. Tonight was "open mic" night. Your name is put in a hat and selected at random. You are given eight minutes to perform two songs.
• I really enjoyed the breadth of the performances. While everything was acoustically based, many styles were reflected. Each piece was unique and reflected the tastes or eccentricities of the performer. We had spanish, blues, blue grass, power ballads, country, and a lot folk.
• I noticed that the best guitarists never sang and that the worst guitarists were the song writers. I would fall somewhere in the middle. There were only three songwriters or of the eight people we watched.

All in all a great evening. I look forward to doing this but hope that I will be able to get in front of a bigger audience. I'm glad that places like this are still around. They add a little positive color to our communities.

Phoenix living at 110 degrees

Living in Phoenix presents a few unique challenges. Most residents agree that one of the bigger drawbacks to calling the "valley" home is the living conditions during the summer months. Right now we are in the midst of our second consecutive week of 110 + heat and there appears to be no relief in sight. (Damn those people who live in moderate climates!)

This problem is somewhat exacerbated by the way that we handle our indoor air conditioning. Most people over react by super cooling anything. We're talking temperatures in the sixties! So you can pick your poison by either contracting hypothermia in your local mall or by suffering heat stroke outside. I'm sick of curling up in the fetal position and waiting for October to roll around. So how does one deal with this?

• Suck it up and play golf. There are some great deals if you are willing to deal with the prospects of having a club melt. Some clubs run all you can play specials for like $10.
• Watch movies. Just make sure that you bring a jacket because those things are cooler then most meat lockers.
• Get out of the state. It only takes one summer to truly understand the migratory patterns of the large retired population in Arizona. I'm suffering in this heat while they are quietly sipping their metamucil outside of their cabins in Minnesota.
• Get out of town. There are some somewhat cooler destinations (Prescott, Globe, Payson, Flagstaff) within a few hours of hear. The higher the elevation the better you are.
• Think of December. There is a reason why so many people have chosen to live down here. We will scoffing at all of those northerners as they deal with their snow shovels and moon boots.
• Reup that membership to the local club. Trust me you don't want to run, jump, or skip in this weather. Burn your calories indoor.

My Summer Music

For the past couple of summers I have gotten pretty ambitious about bolstering my musical library. With the aid of shadowy Russian P to P networks, emusic, Itunes, and the old venerable music store I have compiled my summer 2007 collection. And they are....

1. Arcade Fire, Neon Bible- I was first introduced to them during a recent U2 tour. Their unique and textured sound has grown on me. While their music might be a little dour for my tastes I cannot argue with the way they arrange their music to give it a full body. ( I hope that description isn't only reserved for wine) This disk, while not quite as good as their first, is still worthy of a download.
2. Bright Eyes, Cassaga- First things first, hats off to the people who created the disk. Their encoded messages and spectral decoder should inspire people to actually go to the store and purchase the disk. I don't believe that the music of Bright Eyes is exceptional, but that's not the main attraction. It's most definately Conor Oberst. His strange command of the english language really brings these songs to light. I've only listened to this album a couple of times but I feel that it will grow on me.
3. Beatles- I recently viewed the anthology DVD's and my love for this band was renewed. Since I had only previously owned these albums as cassettes I went out about everything post Rubber Soul. I don't need to say anthing that hasn't already been said. The White Album is still my favorite because it just covers so much ground. Love also provides a fresh take on many of the beloved classics.
4. Paul McCartney, Memory Almost Full- Speaking of the fab four....Paul was always good at writing pop music and this is no exception. I've only given it a couple of listens but so far so good. "Dance Tonight" has a care free happiness that seems paramount to most McCartney songs.
5. The National, Boxer- Like Arcade Fire they do a great job of creating a textured sound, and I do like their lyrics better. While not quite up to par with Alligator it is still nonetheless superb.
6. The Shout Out Louds, Very Loud- Another great Indie band. Their songs are catchy but a few songs blend together. They have some incredible percussion that really add a unique element to their sound. I also like their straightforward song titles.
7. Voxtrot, Voxtrot- I found about these guys on emusic. They are out of Austin and have been garnering alot of praise lately. I am still getting into their music but they do remind me of the Strokes. I will have to listen to some more stuff before I feel comfortable offering an opinion.
8. Ryan Jensen, Making Sense of Somethings- Here's to hoping. Maybe next summer I will make the list. Until then it is back to the studio.

I am still missing a few albums. I have quite a few friends who love the new Wilco. Hopefully I will get that shortly. I am looking forward to the upcoming Austin City Limits so that I can find a few canidates for 2008. Happy listening.

Self Portrait- 6/13/2007

The Band of Brothers

So I subscribe to Netflix. I’ve got about one free night a week to devote to pursuing care free frivolity. Since I don’t have cable or internet at my house I figure that this is my best shot at getting entertainment that I actually care about. I typically go for a comedy, documentary, or some big budget movie that I wasn’t willing to pay $10 in the theatre to see. This time I broke rank and tried something new, I decided on “The Band of Brothers.”
I don’t casually watch shows like “Saving Private Ryan”, or “Patton”, or even “Lord of the Rings”. They are exceptionally rewarding but very consuming. I know that if I am going to watch one of these shows it will require a lot of attention and I will be very affected. It’s a lot easier to watch Fletch on a Wednesday night instead of a show depicting the horrors of war.
It seems like the closer you get to experience the extremes of life the more affected you become. The “Band of Brothers” chronicles the actions of the 101st Airborne’s Easy Company during the European invasion of World War II. It has most of the same elements of most war shows- the battle scenes, the drama, etc… But the part of the show that really got to me? The human element.
Through the course of the show- 10 episodes- you get to really know the characters wearing the fatigues. You see them as humans, for better or worse. This allows you to relate to them. It makes you wonder how you would have responded in such dire circumstances.
Let me describe one of the more poignant scenes. It came from the end of the war and the last episode. By this point the 101st was occupying the last German stronghold and the war was all but over. The Germans were being round up and set into POW camps. As expected there were scenes of US troops taunting and mocking the defeated Germans, and who can blame them. This was right after the concentration camps were discovered and I am sure that the US feelings of hatred towards the Germans were only amplified. Despite being defeated most of the Germans still marched in order and carried a semblance of dignity.
One of the defeated generals asked permission to speak to his troops, it was granted by the commanding US officer. His wounded and dispirited troops stood at attention as they were addressed. The general then spoke words that really put things in perspective. The US forces had an interpreter there as well and were similarly affected. The general, almost in tears, shared his gratitude and honor for having served with such men. He said that this experience forged within them eternal bonds of brotherhood. My heart broke and at that moment I wished that I could have been there to hear that speech in person.
The movie did such a good job of humanizing the war. War isn’t a “Risk” board with two opposing forces hungry to occupy territory and resources. War is good men being compelled by either a good or bad cause to do extraordinary things. The poor men, both Allied and Germans, were far from the decision makers that brought them there, but they were nonetheless the ones shedding blood. They did it because they believed in their cause.
These men became infinitely better people because of how they responded to these difficult circumstances. Sometimes I wish that we had a similar refiner’s fire to force me into extraordinary things. We live in relative peace and prosperity, far from these horrors. But you can’t help but think that we’ve forgotten these sacrifices. And in doing so, we’ve lost some of our capacity to become a better people. For that reason I won’t soon forget watching “Band of Brothers.”

Mr 85%

I'm an "ideas" guy. I like to think in big, broad strokes and paint a wide and expansive panorama. I'm not one to really enjoy getting mired down in details. They say that the devil is in the details and I've always figured that I never much cared for him. This has been both a blessing and a curse for me. I like to start a lot of things but often times I don't take the idea to fruition.

Until now......

I have started a few projects that are very important to me personally. I want to record and an album and eventually perform it. I also have a book idea that I would like to present to a publisher. And finally, I want to become a decent photographer. I don't necessarily need to taste financial sucess or outside validation for these projects. I want to do them mainly for myself. These are very personal to me and I would feel like such a shmuck if I didn't finish them.
I've decided that I am going to break character and ride these waves to the shore. I am the only one who has a vision for these things that are germinating in my head. If I don't see them through then I have just wasted a lot of time and a lot of myself.

Sedona-Jerome: Memorial Day 2007

There are like 10-12 perfect weekend getaways that are only 3-5 hours outside of Phoenix. You suck if you don't take the time to enjoy some of our surrounding beauty. Ever since I got my new camera my desire to travel has increased ten fold. A good camera and some imagination changes everything.

Anyways, we decided on doing both Jerome and Sedona since they are so close to each other. Future trips will include: Bisbee, Hauvusapi, Canyon de Chelly/Monument Valley, Sagauro National Park, South Rim, Snow Flake, and the Chiraquawais. We also need to make it over to Santa Fe to do some painting. I've learned that weekend jaunts to regional locations are the best ways affordably to utilize free time.

We went up with another couple that we know. They have been taking some photography classes so I was hoping that some of their education would rub off on me. (You can be the judge of that) We decided that two days was more then enough time to visit an area, enjoy its cuisine, and capture some moments.

Among the highlights:

• Watching the large "biker population" enjoy their leisure at Bisbee.
• Watching the hippies and the bikers peacefully coexist at Bisbee.
• To really see how vast and wide open some of this country is. The Verde Valley is beautiful and had me wondering why everyone chose to settle in Phoenix and not there.
• We visited the Airport Vortex in Sedona. We tried but felt nothing. It does, however, attract quite an ecclectic crowd at sunset. We were in the company of a group of Japanese people perfecting their meditations, an older hippie playing a guitar, some Indian tourists, some young hippies in search for meaning, and a bunch of people that looked just like us. We probably spent an hour or so up there...it was just so relaxing.
• Visited Slide Rock state park. That is quite the working class attraction, very cool. Nature provides some pretty cool and cheap diversions. There were scores of people up there who brought picnics, chairs, and radio to enjoy the day at this natural water park. The Oak Creek has literally carved a smooth path through the sandstone and river bottom that is very much like a water slide.
• And no trip to Sedona is complete without the requisite visit to Tlaqueqapuque. The ambiance, architecture, and shops are unrivaled. I never buy anything there but I always make sure that I visit.

of

How 'bout those Jazz

I have watched more basketball this past month then I have for the last 5 years. I guess my viewing habits can be directly correlated to the success or failure of the Jazz. Since I haven’t had cable for the past year, (It’s incredible what one is able to accomplish without such distractions. Take my word.) I never was exceptionally motivated to watch anything…until now.
Both the Jazz and the Suns are doing very well and my interest is piqued. I am especially pleased with the Jazz. Their grit and teamwork can make even the bluest collar NBA purist giddy with excitement. You add that with the fact that their expectations were so low and you’ve got something special. Every win past the 1st round has been like an extra scoop of gravy upon my dinner plate of sports interest.
There’s something about this team. Maybe it is how well they play together as a unit. Maybe it is because they anonymously go about their business without striving for accolades and Gatorade commercials. Maybe, it’s because they look like a bunch of misfits who somehow found a home in Utah, a bad news bear sort of thing. It doesn’t matter to me because they’ve got my full support, not withstanding the heavy powder blue uniforms.

Trying to make music

About a year ago I decided that I was going to do two things that were very new to me: write music and write some memoirs. At the time I was going through some difficult challenges and this seemed like the only way that I could truly express myself. Plus it was a whole lot cheaper then working through my issues with someone who was going to charge me $90 an hour.
Since then I have made some great strides forward but I still feel compelled to follow through on what I started. I have some ideas, both musically and through writing, that I want turned into tangible works. I don’t know whether or not there is an audience for these things. I do know that I want to do them for myself and to hopefully complete a chapter of my life.
I have written approximately 17 songs during the past 15 months. Some have reached the point of completion while others are still abstract ideas. I have played some countless times in front of my mirror. Others won’t come to life without the necessary accompaniment. Either way I’ve started something that I want to finish.
Ultimately my goal is to record these songs and eventually perform them live somewhere. Right now my major obstacles are the time constraints of my cousin/producer and the fact that my voice sounds more like a monotone choir boy with hay fever then an artist willing to pour out his guts. My sound, both musically and lyrically, is also still in its nascent stages of development. To the outsider looking in this endeavor sounds more like a pipe dream. Either way, I am going to see this through. Yesterday I spent some time recording music. While the session only yielded two very rough tracks, there were still some magical moments. You know, moments when you start to hear the song performed the way that you hear it in your head. These moments are still few and far between, mainly because we are only able to do this once every other week at the most.
This project wouldn’t mean as much to me if I didn’t feel that I had something to say. If these were just standard songs about the minutiae of live and memories on the farm then I don’t thing that I would feel this drive. For some reason this music, in some regards, represents a critical passage of time in my life. If I don’t record this then I, in essence, lose a valuable page on my scrapbook. Anyways, I am going to plug forward. Shortly I hope to have a few things that I won’t be embarrassed to share. Maybe some of this stuff can resonate with someone. If not, I will be satisfied that I at least put words and music to the impressions of my heart.

Ode to my guitar

I recently splurged and bought myself an electric guitar, a Paul Reed Smith McCarty to be exact. This purchase was a long time coming and was a reward to myself for such a hellish past year.

I must admit, however, that I am unfamilar with the intracacies of an electric guitar/amp and the vernacular of the rather insular guitar community. I am a bread and butter acoustic kind of guy. Almost all of the stuff that I have written and performed has been on the same old Takemine accoustic guitar that I have had since I was an awkward teenager.

This guitar opens up so many possibilities for me. There are so many textures and sounds that we previously beyond the reach of my old set up. This is very exciting. But at the same time these possibilities can be overwhelming. Why?

Things are far more complex. I don't understand the subtle nuances of tone. I listen to friend discuss the ringing tone of the Stratacaster versus the earthier sound of a Les Paul and I say what? I can't tell the difference. I don't understand words like "play" and "axe" and "shred". I don't know when I want to turn down my gain or employ my "humbucker". This will take quite some time before I can master playing an electric.

The real magic will come when my knowledge catches up with my creativity. I have so many ideas right now but I can't truly make them tangible until I understand my pallet, my limitations, my playing field. Hopefully over the next few months I will make strides forward. Until then my neighbors will have to deal with the shrill sounds that penetrate my walls.

Austin after dark

Austin has quickly become one of my favorite cities. During the past year I have had the chance to walk its streets three separate times. Its perfect blend of culture, music, liberality, BBQ, and football offer open arms to someone with tastes such as my own. It’s a bit quirky…but so am I.
Last night an old friend and I visited Threadgill’s in South Austin. He has been an “Austinite” for several years now and his native insights are invaluable when trying to navigate the myriad entertainment options on a Friday night. The prospect of selecting the right music to listen to when there are over 100 performances can be a daunting task. At his recommendation we visited Threadgill’s- former home of the Armadillo world headquarters and one time stopping grounds as such greats as Janis Joplin, Willie Nelson, Stevie Ray Vaughn and Cat Stevens. On this evening we would be treated to eclectic sounds of Bob Schneider and his supporting band, “The Texas Bluegrass Massacre”.
After a typical dinner- typical cuisine being either Tex-Mex or BBQ- we settled into the grounds outside for the upcoming performance. It was nothing fancy- a stage, some grass, a few bleachers, and the requisite bar. All in all it could accommodate 200-300 good natured folks in search of a good time. The weather was cool, a light breeze and the smell of jasmine in the air, and the alcohol was loosening up the crowd and creating a friendly care free atmosphere. The fun was about to begin.
My friend was familiar with Schneider as he has been a staple and a favorite in Austin for several years. He struggled to define his sound and I quickly found out why, he was all over the place. He had a cool demeanor and a charisma that easily won over the audience. He had Chris Isaac like looks and his crooning was equally sexy. It only took one or two songs before I knew that I was witnessing an incredible performance.
He and the band weaved in and out of Bluegrass, Soul, Reggae, Rock, and Samba. Their talent was superb and easily justified their bold adventures in multiple genres. His lyrics were stories…stories of love, god, and loss. The words really flowed seamlessly through the intricate rhythms of the songs, absolutely incredible. This wasn’t music that I would typically listen to but the performance had us completely in awe of their skill.
They played a two hour set in which they moved through a wide range of music and had the crowd completely in the palm of their strumming hand. We left very satisfied with the performance but we couldn’t help but wonder why he doesn’t have a wider audience or greater notoriety. They had more talent and charisma than most current bands- Snowpatrol, Keane, etc…- currently dominating the radio waves. We surmised that while his talent incredible and his music solid that the greater audience values the trite and manufactured hooks of the pop world. Or maybe they are content playing exclusively to “their” audience and not having to sell out their sound in order to create a wider one.

Capturing a thought or two

I figure I've got a little down time to devote to my oft forgotten blog. I find myself alone in a Howard Johnson in a seedier part of Austin. (My company is notoriously cheap when it comes to business travel.) I figure that I can either watch and see if the Jazz can make a series with the Rockets or look out the window and potentially catch a crime in progress. Since the game isn't on yet and it is still light I will devote a few minutes to catching up on things.

• I'm currently reading "Revolutionary Characters" as part of a book club with friends. The book, for the most part, is prosaic and reeks of a thesis paper there have been a few moments that I've truly enjoyed. These moments have typically been revelations of the figures that I really don't know much about. Things like how Hamilton's orphan upbringing allowed him greater freedom in taking risks or how Burr was a wealthy artistocrat who married a prominent madame. It is very intriguing to see the doubts these people had about their newly formed government, to see their foibles and vanities, and to get a better understanding of their views. My Revolutionary education primarily came through symbols of men who were bigger then life. I have enjoyed seeing these figures as humans.
• I recently bought a Paul Reed Smith McCarty guitar. I splurged and decided to buy something that had superb craftsmanship and sound. I do have to plead ignorance, however, when I bought it. I don't know about all of the nuances in tone and I am not familar with the vernacular- axe, play, etc....I will certainly enjoy and take advantage of this guitar but I don't think that I'll get too caught up in the "guitar culture". My ultimate goal is complete an album's worth of material, record it with my cousin, see if it has an audience, and play a live performace all before the end of the year. I'm pretty invested in this idea and I don't know if I could live with myself if I didn't see it through.

More photos...I'm getting better

Living in a time of media and mixed messages

Like 98% of the general US population I have been both saddened and inundated with the news of the “massacre at Virginia Tech”. It seems like events like this are growing in both magnitude and frequency. Is it as simple as blaming this event on the popular culture, selfishness, and godlessness that pervades our society? That’s a thesis paper that I don’t have the time or aptitude to answer. I only wanted to share a brief observation that I made yesterday at lunch while working out.
For the most part it was the usual workout environment. Plenty of people of various ages doing their routines. Also, as usual, there were the usual distractions to help the dedicated patrons pass the time, namely numerous banks of televisions and the radio. Today about 2/3rd of the TV’s were playing some sort of coverage of the shootings. The others being watched were displaying anything as diverse as motocross racing, day time soaps, or financial news. Everybody seemed disaffected by whatever they were watching while working out. Why the big deal?
For me this whole observation is illustrative of our culture in general. We are virtually soaked in media messages all day long. A good majority of these messages are violent, tawdry, or of little value…well, other then to provide a temporary source of entertainment or amazement. The media perpetuates this problem because that is what we crave. These kinds of images pass in and out of us all day long, to the point of where they really lose their impact. We were temporarily shocked when we heard about the news in the morning but by the afternoon we are already moving on and wondering what Ben and Angelina are up to.
I guess that is what was so amazing to me. Here we were in the midst of a pretty big national tragedy and nobody really seemed that affected by it. We were either too involved with our own selves or we didn’t have the attention or interest to truly ask why this happened and what this tells us about our society. I don’t know if any of this makes sense, it’s just what was on my mind.

A couple other photos

Dancing or something after dinner at a Costa Rican club in Cal.
Misc. Photo of cemetary in Savannah, Georgia

Stuff

I'm at a familar haunt, the 5th floor of my local library. I find that I get more accomplished out here then in the distraction filled confines of my little bungalow. Tonight's agenda? Wrap up taxes. Start reading "The Little Prince". Prepare some music for an upcoming recording session. Review the status of goals that were made earlier this year. Listen to a bit of the Suns-Mavs game on Espn.com.
Life gets a little busy, moments like this are cherished because they are relatively rare. Activities like dating, tv, sports, and the like often get the way of a moment of quiet assessment and reflection. I believe that it's how a person responds to "free time opportunities" that really defines their character.

No running away

Depression is a part of my life. It certainly doesn't rule my thoughts and lifestyle but it is present. It comes and goes and at rather unexpected times. It naturally relates to the events of the past two years. I really can't avoid this so I've learned how to cope with the spells when they do arrive.
These bouts are usually triggered by a casual comment or a memory. Something dealing with the hurt of my situation or the loss of something dear such as my daughter. The feelings come in pretty heavy. I am a transparent person so I usually try to keep to myself for fear of bringing other people into my misery. I become an island unto myself. I know that ultimately I will have to conquer and lift this weight from my shoulders.
I do appreciate the concerns of other people but sometimes I need to pass through these moments alone. I will not take any medication because I know I am strong enough without them. I use these moments to quietly assess my situation and determine what I can possibly do to extricate myself, if anything, from this temporary pain.

Savannah musings...

I am currently taking a brief respite from work to gather my thoughts. I am in Savannah, Georgia. I took a rather boring and menial work assignment in exchange for the opportunity to discover for myself if southern charm and ambiance were real. My thoughts...
So for my explorations have been limited to an afternoon jaunt through the historical part of town with my camera. Work has kept me rather busy so my exposure has been limited. But, however, it doesn't take a microscope to realize that this place exudes an enchanted aura. This place represents a very unique blend of history, intrigue, architecture, and nature. I haven't had a chance to really absorb any of it's history, which dates back to 1733, but I have had several walks down the most popular thorough fares.
My first impression deals with the landscape. This place represents the coolest juxtaposition of man made creations and the finest inventions of mother nature. There are several different styles of architecture here; all world class and unique. But what truly makes them memorable is how they are typically blanked in spanish moss, or verdant trees, or ancient vines. The flora and fauna are as much a part of this area as the John Wesley statue at Wesley Square. The trees outline the town, they provide a genteel warmth, the permeate southern mystery, and they even can frighten. I spent the better part of two hours with a friend's Cannon Rebel trying to capture this relationship between the creations of man and mother nature.
I look forward to seeing the other sides of this place; namely the history and the cooking. Evidently Paula Dean owns this place and she has two of the most popular restaurants in town. There are literally 20 can't miss dining spots here. I would love to take a walking tour here; the most popular ones centering on the popularity of ghosts in the area.
More later...

A few photos and such

Treadmill

My last three months have been one repeated cycle of pain, anticipation, brief moments of hope, and frustration. I cannot seem to escape this treadmill, never seeming to take a step forward. My ex-wife, or soon to be ex-wife, is taking her time signing the divorce papers. My life cannot start over until this is complete. I will not get my money until this is done and I will not be able to date again. She, no longer tied to any church standards, is free to carry on her adulterous relationship. Meanwhile I am still obligated to pay babysitting for a baby that doesn't belong to me. I was able to suppress these feelings for several months but they have resurfaced as things continue to draw out.
I have never harbored resentment or anger towards anyone in my life. This is the first time that I have had these feelings and haven't been able to shake them off. I am really worried because I want to extricate myself from them.
I am sick and tired of starting off a new week and saying to myself that "maybe things will be done this week." I've been doing that since September and to be quite frank I'm becoming jaded. I've already been through the ringer, what more else is there. I'm just not as resilent as I was before.

Life sometimes offers new perspectives

I recently had the opportunity to host a lifelong friend for a long weekend visit. We had grown up together but over the past several years our paths seldom crossed and our contact was very limited. That all changed earlier this year when both of us had events that completely changed our own lives and the way that others look at us. I went through a heart breaking divorce and he accepted the fact that he was gay.
Since our news broke we have become very close. As different as our experiences have been there are some erie similarities in the feelings that we have gone through. We can empathize with each other in a way that no one else can...I feel like he can understand some of my pain, hope, and anxieties and vice versa. He can be sharing an experience with me about a break up or about alienation and I can relate.
No one else really understands us. They can try to explain our circumstances by reducing them to their lowest common denominators. "He can overcome these feelings of homosexuality, he's just weak.... so he was betryed by his wife, just move on". Life is much easier when it is reduced to black white; life is much more simple when it can be reduced to it's simplest terms. But is it really so?
He brought one of his girlfiends down with him (brief side note: gay friends have enormous caches of pretty girlfriends) and we set out to have a memorable weekend. We did things I wouldn't normally do (eating a vegan restaurants and visiting mystical readers in Sedona) and we had some incredibly engaging conversations (can anything in life be changed? how one deals with having faith in mormonism knowing that you are living a lifestyle contrary to its teaching. how to associate with someone who has hurt you deeply while still staying positive.)
Some circumstances in my life have truly prevented me from moving on with my life. Until my divorce is final I am prohibited from dating. Until my divorce is final my financial situation will remain somewhat precarious. I have been truly experiencing a crisis of faith lately. For the first time in my life I have begun to question some of my beliefs that for so many years had served as the foundation for my actions and hope. Sometimes I feel completely alone and abandoned.
This weekend I felt a strange companionship...like we were all lonely strangers whose lives brought us together to offer each other mutual support in our trials. It's strange but my newly minted gay friend has offered me hope and perspective that family, friends, bishops, and books could not.
My perspective is changing. While I feel confident that I will make it out of this abyss it gets so amazingly frustrated knowing that, for some reason, I am still wading neck deep in it. I am eternally grateful for my gay friend for coming down into my abyss and helping me swim in the darkness. It gets so lonely down here and it sometimes helps knowing that I'm not drowning alone.
The weekend soon left but as it ended I felt that my resolve was somewhat strengthened. I found beauty in unlikely new places. I didn't reduce things to their simplest terms but life isn't simple. We took certain issues and challenges and faced them head on. Life isn't black and white. Life is very gray and it is through confronting this "grayness" that we can really determine what is and what isn't meaningful and true.

Getting out with the in crowd

I work next to one of the retail meccas in the greater Phoenix area. This area is replete with all of the customary vestiges of wealth- the BMW's, the bronzed and tightened women, the designer clothing, and the feigned look of importance. An old co-worker hit the nail on the head when he observed that Scottsdale was the home of the $30k a year millionaire. The Jones’s can't even keep up with the Jones’s here.
Anyways, I am human and on occasion I give into the siren song of Facconable or the corduroy call of the Gap or the high fashion of the Republic. Today I was determined to get some new shoes...the Nordstrom rack would be my destination. Am I a woman?
As expected the store was absolutely busy. It makes perfect sense, right? All of the top name brands at reduced prices. The most affordable way for the savvy shopper to keep up with the latest, well sort of latest, looks. Brand name, after all, does mean something...especially in this town. I went over to the shoe racks and was greeted by several people feverishly poring over the Cole Haans and Alan Edmunds like if they didn't react with lightning speed then someone else would claim their find. As I looked around I could have sworn that I was in the Serengeti and that the people were hyenas and the clothes were the rotting yet savory carcass of a once proud beast- a once relevant clothing style. There was a determination and savage look on their faces as they efficiently sorted through the racks.
I tried to be more casual in my routine, trying not to look like I was a slave to clothes. But I do admit that I almost bought a pretty ugly Facconable shirt just because it had the tag. I suck. I picked out my shoes and left with a pang of guilt because I was sort of that type of person that I sometimes mock.
Scottsdale is an exceptionally superficial town. That was made very clear to me after recent trips to Austin and Chicago, two towns with real people and real identities. There is a definite self-centeredness there that can only be shadowed by the Capital of "Me", Los Angeles. It is kind of sad to see people define themselves by colorful possessions. I have to admit that even self righteous little me isn't immune to this tendency. I left the store asking myself whether or not it was possible to enjoy high fashion and high society without becoming a slave to it. Any answers?

Recent Church Talk

I was recently asked to speak at church in my new singles ward. I guess it is rather interesting considering that I am not even a member of the ward. Here is the text of the talk I gave. I ended up shelving the talk in favor of following a more rough outline.

---------


Brother Swenson has asked me to offer some thoughts regarding General Conference last week; particularly on the importance of following the prophet. Using the talk titled “Becoming Wise unto Salvation” by Elder John E. Fowler as a guide I will share a few remarks.
We are all here more or less doing the same thing. We are having a mortal experience and learning to use our free agency in order to find the true happiness that will ultimately lead us to Celestial glory. But thanks to free agency, temptation, and sin that clear vision can oftentimes get muddied down in things that slow our progress or even bring misery. This whole notion was made clear to me on a recent trip to a music festival in Austin, Texas. While this trip gave me the opportunity to sample some world class music and food it also allowed me to observe some people who have, perhaps, lost sight of the plan of salvation or of values in general. Between all of the free loving hippies, pot smoking teenagers, and strange smelling Europeans I was exposed to a multitude of differing philosophies and outlooks on life; most of them differing from those of the Latter-day Saint persuasion. I was reminded of the scripture in 2 Timothy 4:3-4 that was recently quoted by Elder L. Tom Perry in last week’s general conference.
“The time will come when they will not endure sound doctrine; but after their own lusts shall they heap to themselves teachers, having itching ears…And they shall turn away their ears from the truth, and shall be turned unto fables”


That scripture does a masterful job of illustrating the feeling of “relativity” that exists in our age. We live in a world that no longer values a true sense of right and wrong. It has become a day of “everyone’s” philosophy for themselves. There is no certainty, they say, it all depends on where you stand. This is not a wise point of view, we know better then this.
As we struggle to make our way through this maze of uncertainty we have been given certain aids to help us along our journey. These things are fixed and unchanging and we are to grasp on to them if we are to stabilize our lives. The principle source of this aid comes from the counsel of both modern and ancient prophets. These chosen vessels of the Lord understand his will and receive inspiration as it pertains to our people. General Conference is our designated time to receive this counsel.
Before I continue with my remarks let me share a statement from Elder Fowlers 1992 talk that underscores the importance of General Conference.
“Do members of the church truly understand the importance of the messages spoken from this pulpit in general conference session held in the tabernacle? Do they understand their responsibility to “hear the voice of the Lord through his servants? For certainly whether by the Lord’s voice or by the voice of his servants it is the same.”

I don’t know about you but there is something calming and comfortable about General Conference. It doesn’t matter where you are at in the world or in your life there’s just a feeling during that weekend that this is where you need to be. It’s like coming home from a long trip and being greeted by an old friend. We long to hear President Monson share another incredible story or quote Shenandoah for the 16th time. We feel so absolutely assured hearing President Hinckley offer sage advice. We feel a slight twinge of guilt as Elder Scott peers into our souls and teaches us doctrine that, while maybe hard, is nonetheless true. The messages shared with us are familiar but they resonate. And to those who apply them they are a source of immense happiness.
For me General Conference is about feeling….feeling this sense of “everything is going to be alright if I just listen and do what they say”. It is sometimes difficult to have a concrete grasp of their messages upon the first listen and oftentimes one talk can blend into the other. That’s why we have six months between sessions so that we can study them and discover how they apply to our own personal salvation. I would like to spend the rest of my talk discussing how I’ve prepared for General Conference and how I’ve learned to get the most from the weekend.
Preparation:
First things first, we need to come prepared to hear. Since we can now view conference from the comfort and convenience of our own couch we have the tendency to treat this as any other program we’d watch on TV. Sometimes I attend out of habit. Meaning I show up in my pajamas, get a bowl of cereal, casually listen, and wait for someone from the General Primary leadership to speak so that I can sneak in a nap. The results are very little gained but a stiff neck, lost time, and a wasted opportunity. A very wise bishop once counseled me to pray specifically that I might receive answers during General Conference to questions or issues that I was struggling with. This focused my attention and allowed me to receive the personal revelation regarding my life.
So in short we need to come prepared to listen. A lot of power of these messages rests in their subtlety. To the unprepared listener they appear to be routine and redundant but to the humble and ready ear they are the exact message that needs to be heard. If we are not in the right stand of mind or humility we might pass up a lot of the best opportunities to learn.
Attention:
Once we are prepared we are ready to listen, to really listen. Oftentimes there are many distractions to take our attention away from the subtleties of the message. I’ve noticed that I’m able to get more from conference when I actually get dressed up and head over to the church and listen. Less donuts but better results.
1 Kings 19:11-12 states:
“And behold the Lord passed by, and a great and strong wind rent the mountains, and brake in pieces the rocks before the Lord; but the Lord was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake; but the Lord was not in the earthquake;
And after the earthquake a fire; but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire a still small voice.”
It’s through quiet contemplation and attention that we are able to hear the whisperings of the spirit. These whisperings can come as quickly as they go so we need to ensure that we capture these insights as soon as they are received. These impressions can often take root and become sound principles that we can build from.
Revisiting the topic:
Conference goes as quickly as it came and we are soon left with a few impressions and some bad Pomory’s commercials. We obviously don’t have big enough nets to catch the entire deluge of what is shared during conference so we have the next six months to ponder and apply those principles that are especially pertinent to our lives.
We know our own lives, our own circumstances, our own weaknesses, our own yearnings. When we study the conference messages with that understanding we are able to be richly rewarded with specific counsel for our unique set of circumstances. Sometimes we might listen to a talk five or six times before we are able to glean the intended message. Sometimes the wonderful insights that we obtained are completely lost on someone else. Each of us is unique and though the gospel of Jesus Christ is universal it can be felt and learned in different ways.
Here are some insights that I received from recent conference talks. Most of them are based on the April session because I have only begun to digest the remarks from last week. Perhaps you felt the same way perhaps you learned something completely different.
· From Elder Holland I learned that I am truly not alone. And that, regardless of what difficulties I am facing in my life, I will always have a loving Savior who can understand and succor me.
· I learned about true humility and learning to become like a child from Elder Eyring. This talk offered me a pattern from which to make a very important decision in my life.
· Elder Hales taught me about the amazing gift of free agency and the enormous impact for both good and evil that our decisions can have on ourselves and others. His story that recounted his experience with President Spencer W. Kimball and his remarks regarding our ability to withstand Satan left a profound mark on me.
· Elder Packer used the example of Corianton to illustrate the how the law of justice and mercy work in our lives.
· President Monson, always the storyteller, used the Tongan makefeki to illustrate just how dangerous certain sins can be if we don’t make the necessary effort to avoid them.

These are just a few examples of some of the recent talks that made a measurable impact on me during the last six months. They will not soon be forgotten because I made the effort to allow them to be studied and applied towards my life.
In closing I want to testify that the teachings and counsel offered during General Conference represent one of our best opportunities to combat the sin and uncertainty that we face today.

Testimony---

Of muscle shirts and protein shakes

One of my new routines involves me spending a few hours a week in the gym. It is in this fortress of vanity…er, self improvement… that I work to get my body back into a suitable “dating” condition. I’m determined- well, let’s be honest…somewhat determined- to get in excellent shape. So far I have lost 25lbs and am at 11% body fat. The next goal is to add a little muscle and get myself prepared to either do a marathon or triathlon.
Anyways, while the whole thrill of feeling and looking better has been great the real treat is observing how extreme the “gym” culture can be taken. This is a complete way of life for some of these meatheads. I am all for working hard but most certainly not at the expense of living a normal and well rounded life. Some of these people live and die by the gym.
There’s a group of people that I regularly observe. Their routines, while probably pleasing to steroid dealers, can be rather comical. They literally observe every action they make in the mirror. There’s a reason why every club has more mirrors in it than a fun house. Things here aren’t measured in how much faster one can run or how much farther they can hit the ball but rather how well their pectorals look in relation to their biceps. These people, it seems, tie their self image directly in how they look in that mirror. They’ll hour after hour obsessing over the slightest detail in their physique.
I suppose that this gym might just be a microcosm of society in general. Good lucks and muscle are the desired “veneer” that we value. So much so that things like communication, education, religion, work, and even normal physical activity are forgotten. This somewhat superficial fix is easy and will go a long way in covering up inadequacies in other areas. We value some of the strangest things. Sometimes we don’t spend enough time on the things that really bring the most value. You can’t have a meaningful conversation with a deltoid after all, can you?

More photos...why not?

Misc. Photo

I guess it's never really just a visit

I just got back from my old house and a brief visit with my old wife. It’s something that’s awkward, unnatural, even somewhat forced. More then anything it leaves me with a feeling of emptiness.
It’s amazing how such a routine act, such as dropping something off, can carry such an emotional weight. Given what we’ve trudged through I imagine that it will take a long time, if ever, before we can be around each other without having some of the old feelings resurface.
We chatted for maybe 10 minutes. Really nothing, you know. Superficial things like what we’ve been up to and Alex. We can move the conversation away from us and over to Alex because it is much easier. It’s strange because as intimate partners there was nothing that couldn’t be discussed; now there is very little that can enter the conversation. I no longer feel the responsibility or disposition to share my life, goals, and pursuits.
After the pleasantries and “how to do’s” ran their course I thought it best that I leave. I just don’t see any point to lingering. There’s still a part of me that sometimes longs for that old family but those hopeful embers are quickly extinguished by the realization that there is too much pain that I can’t afford to wait or hope for a person who doesn’t truly love or respect me. My greatest joys will be fulfilled through someone else.
I took one last look around my old house; the place I once called “home” and put my heart into maintaining. Now it was just an empty shell…no warm feelings, no welcome sensation. Now I was just a visitor. As I left she thanked me for doing a few helpful things and then she called me “Ryan”. What the hell? I don’t think that she had ever called me that, it was somewhat awkward. I’m now home alone with my thoughts. This whole ordeal has made me more expressive and I want to make sure that I capture moments like this. Why? I don’t really now. Maybe it’s so that I don’t forget what I’ve gone through; maybe it’s to remind me that I have better days ahead.

Austin City Limits Recap (Sept 2006)

Day 1 Highlights:

We (my cousin Christian and I) came to Austin for the music and our first day was spent satisfying that pursuit. Well rested and barbequed (at Ray’s of course) we set out early Friday morning for Barton Springs and Wilker park, home of the 5th annual Austin City Limits Music festival. I was in store for a singular time; one that would contain several experiences I don’t believe I will often encounter again.
We arrived shortly after 10am and quickly started to formulate a strategy. It was going to be a long day filled with sunshine and multiple musical acts from which we would have to choose. There was an expected attendance of around 70,000, at this time the crowds were relatively sparse.
After setting shop in one of the many restaurant/cafes along Barton Springs road we enjoyed a nice breakfast of Migas and read musical reviews of our prospective musical selections. The newspaper revealed that we were in a for a wide array of sounds; everything from rock to blue grass to punk to blues. With the continuous arrival of more and more people our excitement and expectations increased.
I convinced my road weary cousin that it was in our best interest to spend the entire day at the park instead of trying to venture downtown first. The first hour was spent getting acclimated to the humidity and heat as well as listening to the moderately interesting sounds of the Benevento Russo Duo. There eight stages that were in constant musical activity.
Christian soon got weary and sought refuge with a Heineken at the AT&T tent. For the next hour he sat in the air conditioned enclosure watching an E! True Hollywood story while I enjoyed the surprisingly good melodies supplied by Paolo Nutini. During this time I tried in vain to connect with a co-worker, this would take place for the next two hours until we just gave up.
Things really started to heat up at the Guster concert. While their performance was above average at best it signaled a change for the better. More and more people were arriving and the good music was just beginning. The next hour was spent putting up with the blue grass doldrums of the girl favorite, Nickel Creek, and thoroughly enjoying the harder sounds of Wolf Parade. It was at the Wolf Parade concert that I meant my first girl, a pretty gal from Austin who was a swimming coach, and witnessed some teenagers fumble around with a bong. They rolled a few blunts and passed them around for their neighbors to enjoy; hippies can be the nicest people.
The weather wasn’t getting any cooler and our appetites were growing fierce. We spent the next couple of hours lounging about in the sand, eating vegan food, and casually listening to Los Lonely boys. They performed nothing particularly noteworthy or interesting; some bands I just can’t connect to. It was during this time that I was approached for a third time by a girl searching for mushrooms. I don’t know if it was a pick up line or if I just looked like the type of person who would carry that sort of thing around. It was kind of amusing, however, to respond to their requests.
With the sun down we were refueled and ready to enjoy the next round of musical performances. We spent a few minutes at the Sparklehorse performance; just long enough to realize how strange and mediocre they were. It was during our next selection that we were richly rewarded; The Tragically Hip. They were very cool, very high energy, and very unique. Their lead singer oozed with charisma and showmanship. We met a few more UT hippies who invited us to a trance party in the woods later that evening. I also spotted my first topless hippes; one of several firsts for me. We left the show prematurely so that we could catch Van Morrison.
My low expectations were soon surpassed because I never gave him much of a chance over the years. It was there that I meant a very pretty UT student named Rachel. We spent several minutes during the show playing “get to know you” games. She is studying Anthropology and History and works at a local steakhouse downtown. Things soon stalled, however, when I didn’t take it to the next step. The problem is that, when dealing with non-mormon girls, I don’t know what the next step is. Do I propose something for the next night? What do I do? Anyways, I thought that she was a pretty cool girl and I think I blew an opportunity to get to know her better. But then again, what good is it to put that kind of effort into someone I wouldn’t see beyond the weekend.
We left the concert slightly early to avoid the crowd. That is hard to do when there are 70,000 people also in attendance. It was a veritable sea of people flowing onto the street from the park. We ran into everything from street performers, to nude hippies, to evangelists, to normal folk. We passed a little time at a local BBQ joint eating and planning our next part of the evening, we were just catching our second wind.
We hopped in the convertible and were downtown in minutes, unfortunately so was the rest of Austin. After much effort we found a parking spot and were soon bustling with a sea of people along the famous sixth street corridor. This is where all of the great bars and clubs are. The great thing about this area is that all of the big bands during ACL play here after the festival. We were all “musiked” out so we decided to focus our efforts on people watching and the bars. After a couple hours of watching my cousin drink I soon became too tired and bored. We were on the road home around 2am. It was a long but very rewarding first day indeed.

Thoughts taking root

Lately my mind has released a deluge of thoughts, ideas, and songs. This torrent of creative activity has hit me like never before in any time of my life. I am taking advantage of this by taking copious notes and by writing music. By the end of the year I hope to have an album recorded.
Whether I like it or not I have to credit this increase in creative output to the recent circumstances of my life. It seems like it often times takes extremely emotional experiences before one feels the need or desire to express themselves. I have also spent a considerable amount of time studying the biographies of a lot of prominent thinkers and writers. It seemed like most of them had passed through some sort of strong emotional experiences that spurred their creativity.
I'm not saying that I'm the next Picasso or Hemmingway but I feel like, in some way, I can relate to their desire to have their voice heard.

New life...new habits

Quite a bit has changed for me. My priorities have changed and have allowed me to restructure my free time. As I write, I am currently involved in a 4 hour fantasy football draft. This has been a great opportunity to rediscover old hobbies and potentially explore new interests. Relatively new changes include:

• Yoga- A suprisingly relaxing option at the local, Bohemian Sikh temple. It's also worth noting that there is no dearth of pretty girls.
• Gym- I now have the time, and certainly the motivation, to get into peak shape. I way what I did in high school and I feel like I'm in the best shape in years.
• Tennis- Always loved the sport; why not get better at it?
• Travel- Going to Austin for City Limits next week. Just got back from Utah, DC, California, and Charlotte.
• Music- Been listening to some great tunes lately. Elf Power, Guillemots, Beth Orton, etc....all good stuff.
• Music Making- I've always been casually interested in recording stuff. This is my chance. I'm really proud of some of the stuff I've created so far.
• Church- Great chance to be of more service.
• Dating- Been an interesting ride thus far.
• Reading- Have an ever expanding library. Lots to get to...

A new day....a new life

I have been conspicuously absent from my blog for the past several months. This absence wasn't due to wontful neglect or busyness but, rather, due to an unbelievably difficult set of circumstances that I was passing through. This "baptism" of sorts consumed my life, hope, and soul for the better part of the last 9 months. It something that has taken me to the very brink of utter despair but also lifted me up to a new plain of perspective and understanding.
The selfish actions of my ex-wife changed just about everything I was accustomed to. I no longer live in the same house. I no longer am a father. I no longer have the warm embrace of a wife. I no longer have all of the those "warm comforts" that accompany the middle ages of ones life. The first part of this experience was spent trying to grasp to certainty...the last part was spent trying to cope with the realities of my new uncertainty.
I now feel like I have passed through the darkest throes of this harrowing journey and that I can begin to adopt certain aspects of my previous life. I am adopting to a new life as a single man. I am trying and experiencing new things. I am reclaiming certain vestiges of normalcy...things such as this blog.
I have gained valuable insights into the human condition. I have risen and continue to rise from the ashes like the great Phoenix. I am forging a new path for my life and creating new circumstances. I am the ultimate arbiter of my success or failure. I look forward to the challenge ahead. I am reclaiming my blog as one of the means in which I document this journey.

Keep the faith.

Perspective

I'm learning a lot about perspective these days. I'm also learning a lot about the circumstances or events that take place that usually lead one to think about something like perspective. Unfortunately perspective is something that not many people seek. It seems like life is in typically in charge of deciding when we are ready to evaluate our station or position along the journey. Such has been the case with me.

The events of the last several weeks have been beyond my control. Unfortunately I cannot avoid these events. Fortunately I can learn from these events. It feels to me that perspective is the positive result of responding to a challenge in the right way. When we are dealt a difficult hand we can either look inward, seek pity, and lament our condition our we can look inward, ask why, and seek to discover what can be learned. Life is a schoolmaster... it would be a big shame if we did not look at it from that perspective.

Reality Bites

This evening I decided to rededicate myself to cardiovascular fitness through an evening jog. No big deal, right? I mean, I play basketball once a week and I walk my dog faitfully every morning. I've always seemed to have the energy when I needed it so a reinstitution of a simple jog should be no problem....................................well, time and slothful living can do a lot to a middle aged body.
I probably made it 5/6th of a mile before I was winded. Exhausted to the point of where my throat was tingly and I felt like vomiting. My legs wobbled as a feebly tried to wave to my neighbors, hoping to convince that I was just wrapping up a long jog and not passing out after a short one. I arrived home ready to cry, my road to physical well being just got a lot longer and considerably bumpier.
Up until I was about 25 exercise was very easy. I didn't need to condition myself I just went out and played. My friends and I were so active that we didn't have to pay close attention to small and meaningless things such as diet or sleep. Everything changed about 5 months into my marriage. We were at a friends wedding. While dancing I noticed that some strange soft substance on my sides prevented me from experiencing a full range of motion. I had started to grow sides, I was getting fat.
Since then I have been in fitness limbo. My appearance is changing to the point of taking action but the fact that I can still do things keeps me believing that no real action is necessary. Well I might be reaching a crossroads. Changes need to be made. Tough decisions need to be taken when dining out. Dedication is needed in the form of regular exercise. It's no longer a matter of exercising to have fun it's become exercising to keep from getting fat and becoming a poster child for heart diesease.
I better cut this entry short, I've got a night cap with the floor. I still need to do 50 more pushups.

The Baby Blessing

Today was a day that will not soon be forgotten. In the presence of our parents and ward family I was able to give Alexandra her baby blessing. It was quite an overwhelming feeling, I was very nervous for the first time in several months. To think of the responsibility that I have as a father to bless and care for a little beautiful baby.
Alexandra was dressed in a beautiful white, frilly dress that extended well past her little legs. She was an angel and reverently sat through the whole blessing and meeting. The blessing itself was a singular experience. My heart was so full and my mind was racing so fast that I don't think that I adequately conveyed my feelings. But the spirit of the act and the support of friends and family helped buoy my inadequate toungue. I take comfort in knowing that the Lord knows my heart and understood what I was trying to say.
I have spent countless hours thinking about how I am going to help Alex to fulfill what was stated in her blessing. We are to be her nurturers, her teachers, her friend, her providers. The Lord has made us stewards over the most precious thing in world; we must respond by taking our stewardship seriously. This blessing is just the first in many critical steps that we are going to be part of in the life of Alexandra Jean Jensen.

Randomizer Volume III Series I

Halloween- Another unnecessary holiday. But I suppose if it gets we an extra long lunch break on a Friday afternoon for a costume party then it can't be all that bad. There are some people that really get into the whole costume thing. Part of me wouldn't mind being a Roman legionaire or Mariachi but the other part just doesn't want to make the effort. For this years parties I was Rocky, a Doctor, and a Canadian. It's amazing what a little creativity and a thorough search of ones closet can create.

Football- My resolve to minimize my Sunday football was stretched and broken today. I figured I spent a good 3 hours listening to the sweet strains of pads crunching and Troy Aikman. This is going to be a hard habit to break. There has to be a way that I can satisfy my football cravings
without destroying the spirit of the Sabbath.

Saturday- There's a certain sense of satisfaction that comes with a hard days work on ones own house. Yesterday I employed the services of the rug doctor and really went to town on my carpet. It is amazing the amount of dirt that those machines can pull out, I will never lay on the ground again. We want to get the house nice and clean before the arrival of our parents this week, so far the place is looking pretty good.

Thought Magnitude- I frequently visit the blogs of several of my friends. The level of discussion and thought really blow me away, I feel like such a simpleton. Every day it seems like there is thought provoking commentary on current events, philosophy, or gospel principles. I haven't really conditioned myself for that kind of critical thinking since college, quite a shame. Right now my level of interest and understanding of most critical subjects is superficial and goes no deeper then a quick glance at the latest news source. I have selected a couple of pet topics, such as immigration reform for example, but have I given the requisite time and thought to the subject to really be conversant?

Sunday Thoughts

It's Sunday evening and instead of laying in bed and trying to satisfy myself with whatever cable television has on, most likely weekend stalwarts such as Die Hard or Speed, I opted to spend some quiet time in the office. Sunday is a day of peace and reflection and sometimes I feel like I let the tv get in the way.
Today was a good day. I was able to spend alot of time with Alexandra. She is really starting to show some personality and is now smiling rather liberally. I was also able to spend some good time preparing my Sunday School lesson the importance of families. Church was good, the usual Sunday lineup of high council speakers was broken up with a missionary homecoming. Dinner was a very tasty and tender pot roast, venerable american sunday tradition. We even had one of our good friends over. All of these things are what make Sundays the most enjoyable day of the week.
Now I can quietly read and get myself ready for another week. I still think I can get more out of my Sundays but I am happy at the progress that has been made. I don't give myself enough time like this, truly a shame. The best thoughts and moments of learning come at quiet times when one is free from the distractions of every day life. Thats why I need to take Sunday observance more importantly, I don't want to rob myself of these benefits.

Finding our passion

I had an interesting conversation with a co-worker today at lunch, one that has got me thinking. It basically revolved around job satisfaction and what kept us in our current positions. We both argreed that it is pointless and futile to pursue a job in which you don't enjoy. We spend too many hours in our work to waste it on something that doesn't produce an honest degree of satisfaction. A great job is one that has you thinking about it even after you have come home.
Based on that criteria, I think I am failing. I either need to give my job a more honest effort or quit, refusing to act would be a disservice to both me and my employer. In all honesty there are some good opportunities to get involved. While the products of the company and the industry it serves aren't the most captivating to me there are still opportunities to utilize the skills I obtained as an MBA. If after 3-5 months of honest effort things don't change than it might be time to move on. It should be as simple as that.

Good Dad/Bad Dad

Words cannot express my love for my daughter. Her presence has brought an immense joy into our life that money, words, or accolades cannot match. But there are strings attached to this joy, mainly a complete restructuring of our once comfortable lifestyle and a trial of our patience.
Every now and again Alexandra will get in a sour mood. There is certain protocol that is to be followed to calm her down. This usually consists of music, various types of rocking, and routine and it typically works 90% of the time. But there is the rare occasion where none of this will work and she her cries will grow increasingly loud and desperate. My patience grows thin with each passing minute until it is on the verge of snapping. What should I do here?
My first inclination would be to calmly set her in the crib or rocker and walk away. She can cry herself to sleep. I have, afterall, done everything humanly possible to assuage her infant pains. My wife typically doesn't agree with this approach and is an advocate of waiting out her cries, however long they should last. So am I bad dad for knowing when to set her down? Should I rush in every time she starts to whine? I am torn and am trying to find a middle ground between abandoning my baby girl and over pampering her. Maybe additional thought or one of my wise friends will help me deal with this.

Born at the wrong time

One thing, possibly the only thing, that I like about business travel is that I can select a good book to keep me company. The latest selection is "A war like no other" by Victor Davis Hanson. It edged out "Theodore Rex" and "1776". It details the Peloponessian War and its application to the complex world that we face today.
The book is very exhaustive in its coverage and offers the best details of the war and its strategies this side of Thucycides. Hanson has a very strong background in both military and greek history. He makes a strong case in comparing ancient Athens to the current United States. While both nations were not perfect they did create systems that engendered a degree of resentment with their neighbors. Athens- with its democracy, prosperity, culture, and pomp- elicited the ire and jealousy of Sparta, Corinth, Euboea, and others- the same way that the US has done in the past half century. While the war was relatively small, when one looks at the number of people involved, it serves as a strong historical microcosm from which we can learn various things. Evidently this long and drawn out war is one of the most studied chapters of military history.
While I am only 100 pages into the book I am very much into it. I have been reading much about the ancient Greek and Roman societies lately. I must say that everything that I admire about the Romans can actually be attributed to the Greeks. Their finest moments and achievements were built on the foundation that the Greeks left behind. In reading a biography on Cicero I quickly learned that all of the greatest Roman thinkers were trained and followed the tenets led out by their older neighbors across the Adriatic.
Something else that I have found interesting. All of the great names that we associate with Classical Greece lived in the tumultuous 30 year Peloponnesian war. While the Spartans and Athenians were mired in war, figures like Socrates, Pericles, and Aristophanes were thriving. It's hard to think that highest moments of Greek achievement were couched between the Persian invasion and the Peloponnesian war.
Anyways, back to the present day and my present concerns... Namely trying to figure out why Alexandra won't stop crying.

The Sunday Dilemma

The NFL is my favorite sport/league. It has been ever since the Jazz faded into oblivion. But my love for this sport has never really had a chance to blossom. Why? Sunday football. As long as games are played on Sunday I will always watch with a strong feeling of guilt.
Sunday's are designed to be a respite from the day to day grind of work and life. If executed properly a Sunday allows one to relax, regain perspective, and refuel for another week. Family time, quiet thought, church, and relaxation are key ingredients for this to happen. Through in the NFL into the mix and the whole cake gets half baked. Do you get my dilemma?
So what usually happens is that I will go to church and prepare my lessons but my thoughts will be on how the Cowboys are performing. Hence I will be "going the motions" on both things. I can't really get into the season; but more importantly, I am short changing myself of the benefits associated with proper Sabbath observance.
As I really dissected my love for football I realized something. Most of my interest in the sport peaks in the obsession. This is attributed to the fact that I can control the time I give to the sport and can avoid Sunday watching. Plus, every team has a chance when everyone's record is 0-0.
Anyways, I am at an interesting crossroads. I know what direction I need to take but I regret having to say goodbye to to a life long friend. I am afraid that I will demote myself to a casual NFL fan in order to regain the real blessings of Sunday.

Alternative Fuels?

The most recent spike in gas prices has me wondering if the perpetual increases will ever stop. I, like many, am almost to the point where I am going to seriously alter the way that I drive. Upon initial consideration it appears absurd that we haven't either come up with commercially viable alternative ways to power vehicles or come up with better long term strategies for gas consumption. I keep hearing the argument that to make an across the board change to another fuel would be impossible. We would need to completely overhaul our infrastructure, our cars, etc... Nothing short of a JFK moon vision, they say, will change this.
If the biggest obstacle to change is the fact that we are so far along the gasoline path, why don't we explore other types of consumption in developing nations like China and India. I don't think that they have the massive infrastructure dedicated to gasoline that we do and as they develop why don't they do it with the myriad options that supposedly are out there? I imagine that I am really simplifying the issue but is it even being considered. If you haven't already sunk so much into a dated and infinite resource such as gas wouldn't you want to explore other cheaper and cleaner alternatives?
I know that this would cause headaches such as having machines that are compatible with both types of fuels, dealing with the oil cartels, getting everyone to buy in etc... but I don't think that they are insurmountable. I guess I'm just sick of hearing about all of these great alternative fuels and not seeing anything done about it. China or India would be great places to test them.


Meanwhile in the time that it took me to post this rant gas prices have increased $.03.

A moment to catch my breath

Shelley and the baby are out of town for a few days which means I get to recuperate some of the lost sleep from the last few weeks. I've never been so excited to go to bed at 9pm. Their absence will also give me a chance to catch up in other things, namely yard work, errands, and reading. My weekend is booked exclusively with things that I want to do, imagine that.
The past few weeks have taught me the importance of establishing a routine with your newborn. A routine provides stability and structure. Our most frustrating moments have come when Alex has broken from the norm.

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I have very mixed feelings about the hurricane. On one hand my heart goes out to the people whose lives have been temporarily or permanently devasted by the storm. I am comforted by the outpouring of assistance and aid that has come. On the other hand I am appalled at the general lawlessness that is taking place in certain quarters. People not looting grocery stores for necessities but stealing guns and appliances. Police having to focus on maintaining the peace when they should be performing rescues. Another example how tragedies can bring out the best in most people and the worst in others. I guess you can tell a lot about a community/person/nation by how they respond to adversity. I hate to see the reputation of New Orleans tarnished because of the actions of a few.

Baby Thoughts

We've had the baby now for almost three weeks and I must confess that she dominates my thoughts and efforts. Soon enough I'll have time to devote to other matters but right now I am relishing fatherhood. A few thoughts that I've had over the past couple of weeks.

• Life really hasn't changed as much as many people said it would. The only real alterations are an adjustment to my sleeping patterns, less tv, and a more conscience effort to maintain patience. At this stage we are basically just feeding, holding, and changing her. The real changes and challenges, I feel, will come in a few years when we will see how well she responds on her own to our teaching. That is a couple of years away and in the meantime I will enjoy the sweet and simple joy that comes with holding your baby girl.
• Bowel movements. There have been a couple of times when I have just completed a changing and within 30 seconds of picking her up I feel an explosion between her legs. Man, kid's today have no scruples. I'm starting to wonder if there is away to get more mileage out of diapers. All in all I don't mind changing diapers, right now they smell almost like a bakery. Things will probably change once they start eating chicken nuggets.
• We have been in public enough to receive advice and tips from a variety of different sources. This started at early pregnancy and evidently carries over through the growth of the baby. One thing I've learned is that there is more then one way to successfully care for a baby. I've probably heard 15 different opinions on when you should feed a baby and I bet that 13 of them would probably work.
• Alexandra is a sharp and alert girl. When she is awake, which is happening more and more, she loves to make eye contact and look around. She loves to wiggle and can already flip over. She also has the most powerful little mouth. I have a new found respect for breast feeding.
• More thoughts to come...

The Birth Announcement

Announcing the birth of Alexandra Jean Jensen

On a humid Phoenix afternoon, 3:29pm on August 1, 2005 to be exact, the heavens opened and the stork dropped off a miraculous package in the form of a little girl named Alexandra. The prenatal journey, the one that included random bits of advice from strangers and plenty of back aches, has given way to the spectacular adventure called life.

She initially weighed in at 7lbs 2ozs and 20 inches but those numbers seem to vary depending on the size of her diaper. She very much enjoys to wiggle around and confuse her days from her nights. She has a generous helping of beautiful dark hair compliments of Ryan, Kaysville’s 1976 recipient for the hairiest kid award. She also has the most gorgeous and penetrating eyes.

Being parents has created a lot of exciting and strange changes; we are now considering trading in our Outback for a Honda Odyssey. We couldn’t be any happier and we are very excited, and a tad nervous, for the journey that awaits us as parents.

We wanted to briefly notify you of the news and, fulfilling our role as “proud parents”, send you a couple of photos of our beautiful little gal.

Enjoy,

Ryan and Shelley Jensen

The grand arrival

Alexandra Jean Jensen

August 1, 2005

The day finally arrived. The prenatal journey has ended and the grand adventure called life has just begun. After three days in the hospital we were able to introduce Alexandra to her new home. Quite a feeling.

Right now I feel an abosulute sense of being overwhelmed. I am now caretaker over the most precious thing in our lives. I am very much committed to being the best father she could of received. No acheivement, award, or accolade can even come close to comparing to the simple majesty that exists in raising a family.

I look forward, in the coming weeks, to documenting how Alexandra changes our lives and helps to refine our eternal perspective. I also look forward to spending countless hours looking into her eyes and bragging about her to my friends.