Introducing Chainmail Charles and his lofty ideals

To say that Parenthood changes one is quite the understatement.  Countless books, poems, and other demonstrations of love have been expressed over the years by those who have responded to the magic of holding your own child.

I'm no different.  I can't' wait for Charlie to grow and for the chance to take him on his first camping trip, help him explore his world, and to discover his calling.  I want to teach him solid values and give him a good foundation.  To that end I am going to enlist the help of Haugen's Army.

What is Haugen's Army?  Essentially it was an exercise in creativity and a way for me and my friends to battle classroom boredom during high school and college.  It would work like this.  We would have five minutes to sketch out whatever motley character we could dream up.  We did this for a number of years and the efforts yielded such timeless classics as "Showcase Showdown", "Mustard's Last Stand", "Superlative Givens"and "Willie the Little Headed Archer".  One of those characters was named "Chain-mail Charles and his Lofty Ideals."

I am going to see if I can convert him into a character that serve as a basis for a short story.  The story will allow me to teach Charles the timeless qualities of imagination, exploration, and determination.  We'll see if I can harness those virtues in seeing this project to the end.

Why we named you Charles

Good morning Lil' Charlie. You've only been with us for a couple of days but it seems like I can't conceive of a time when you weren't part of our family.  I wanted to spend a moment to tell you why we gave you the name we did.  You see we didn't need to consult a magazine to pick the most recent name du jour; we have had your name picked out for a long time.

Your name has great significance in your father's family.  It was the name of a great man who passed away many years ago but whose legacy is still fresh in the hearts and minds of all he touched.  It was the name of your great grandpa Charles Otterstrom.  He was also known as 'Chic'. 

The world sometimes measures men by a different scale then we do.  Sometimes it values wealth, power, and notoriety over things like character, selflessness, and love.  You see Chic wasn't noted for those former qualities but he had the latter ones in spades.  His character will last far longer than when all the gold of the wealthy man has been spent.

I never met my Grandpa Chic.  He died before I was born.  In fact he passed from this life on the same day that Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin made the famous first moon landing. My knowledge of him has been passed to me by those whose lives were touched by him.  Here are a few things they mentioned.

• He was a humble man who always put the needs of others over his own.  He was never a wealthy man but that never stopped him from sharing what little he had with others.
• He was a creative man.  He worked for the great Walt Disney and helped animate some of your soon to be favorite movies like "Cinderella", "Snow White", and "Pinocchio".  Some say he never got the credit he deserved for his work because he was so humble and he never sought to put himself over others.  
• While he never had the opportunity to serve a mission he was always sharing the Gospel with others.  Most of his best missionary work was done through his Christ-like example.
•  He was a man who never succumbed to anger.  He never needed to.  He was able to educate and communicate without having to raise his voice.
• He was also a great photographer.  He was so good that the Government used him on top secret missions to photograph the tests that took place in the remote desert to capture the tests surrounding the feared and powerful atomic bomb.  This work ultimately led to the cancer that took his life.  In spite of this he never complained.  Actually he still remained more concerned about the needs of others. 

We will continue to gather stories of this great man so that you can follow his example.  This shouldn't be hard because there are still so many people who have so many wonderful stories to share.

Soon enough we will tell you about the person behind your middle name, Don.   He is also a  great man and he has also created a wonderful legacy for you.

Learning with Bono

We all have our childhood idols. For most growing boys idols come in three flavors: Sports Figure, Actor (Namely someone in the mold of Harrison Ford or John Wayne) or Musician. Eventually we will mature and start patterning our lives after captains of industry, politicians, or- should we hold on to our ideals- a philosopher/religious figure. But nothing comes close to the magic that we felt when we first connected to our early heroes.

For me no one had a bigger impact on my formative years than Saint Bono.  I tried to emulate his horrible Western 'Rattle and Hum' era wardrobe.  I studied his Rolling Stone interviews. I dissected the inner workings of his lyrics in search for answers to life's mysteries.  He was my school teacher and here was some of my curriculum.

1. Literature: Bono was my gateway to Flannery O'Connor, James Joyce, even Norman Mailer.  I remember him mentioning in passing how cool "Ulysses" was so I spent all of my summer vacation money at the Ex-Libris bookstore in Sun Valley, Idaho to get a nice copy.  Despite my best and repeated efforts I never made it more than 30 pages into that thing.  I did have better luck with Norman Mailer and his 'Executioners Song', the inspiration for the underrated Joshua Tree classic, 'Exit'.  That book was far more accessible and set in my Utah backyard.  Too bad it was written about the notorious serial killer Gary Gilmore.
2. Social Activism: One cannot truly experience growing up without responding to the well intentioned calls of activist groups that occupy liner notes and arena lobbies of our favorite concerts.  For me it was Amnesty International, Green Peace, with a little bit of UNICEF.  While their messages get a more cloudy through middle age and a more complex lens, their earnestness and devotion to their cause is to be admired.
3. Religious Studies: U2's Christan imagery not only inspired fervor in many Mormon boys such as myself it also led to some of the greatest Mormon urban legends. (i.e. that whole silly bit about Bono writing 'Streets' for Salt Lake City or 'One' for a Mormon girl that wouldn't let him in the Temple.) While I never fell for the Mormon-connection side of the U2 religious experience I did spend plenty of time poring over the Psalms, namely Psalms 40.  I remember using that Psalm and the U2 song by the same name to lead my seminary class in a daily devotional.  I must of thought I was so cool and so spiritual.
4. Musical Exploration: U2 also introduced me to the wider world of music. (Don't worry Brian Tibbets you still get credit for Simon & Garfunkel, the Beatles, Colors, and the Smiths) My old CD collection is full albums from the Pixies, Joy Division, the Pogues, the Clash, Velvet Underground, Sex Pistols, and the like.  Some were accepted into my musical rotation, most gathered dust next my mystical moods collection. Every time Bono or the Edge would list a musical influence I would follow their path so that I could, perhaps, better understand the essence of my favorite U2 songs. 
5. Reinvention: Amongst my friends U2- Bono particularly- took a big hit in popularity when they transitioned from the earnestness of the Joshua Tree years to the leathery irony of Zoo TV.  While I didn't fully understand of the genius of the move at the time I did value their courage in stepping out of a successful act and completely reinventing another one.  Comfort is only good for lounge wear; life is to be experienced on the uncomfortable edge of exploration and discovery.  It was the Fly, or was it MacPhisto, who taught me that.

I could continue but you get my point.  There is something magical about a childhood hero.  Even if they get middle-aged and start turning out boring records, that doesn't detract from those youthful moments when they inspired possibility and opportunity.  Who were your childhood heroes?

Hello Charles, ready for your close up?

A more magical moment I cannot imagine.  The first glimpse of your kid.  Parenthood leaves the realm of the abstract and becomes something very tangible with that first picture. Plus, it looks like he'll be a boxer.  A scrawny little, wonderful pugilist.  We haven't even had him yet and he's already making us proud.

Becoming reacquainted with 'the man'

I recently made the decision to go back to a full time corporate job.  With us now getting ready for a kid it just made sense. I will be leaving the sometimes thrilling and sometimes crushing world of entrepreneurship and joining the throngs of us who are indentured to 'the man'*.  I am excited for the opportunity but there are few things that will be missed.  Among them:

1. The freedom: I will miss having incredible flexibility in my schedule and having the ability to, at the drop of the hat, pull off a road trip or getaway.  Here's to a quick accumulation of vacation days.
2. The public restroom:  On occasion I would work out of a public library.  For the most part it worked well.  The notable exception being when a restroom visit was required.  My GI tract probably suffered insurmountable damage due to my fear in going in there. About as third world as Scottsdale can get.
3. The Tax deductions: It was certainly fun to try and justify every expense as 'business related'.  Every January was like a treasure hunt as I danced through the myriad deductions available for the small business.
4. The Mutual Fundification of my income:  It is very nice knowing that if you lose business from one source you have it coming in from some other ones.  In these uncertain times when a layoff is just around every corner it is essential that you can draw upon another cash cow.
5. The cachet of calling yourself an entrepreneur: Ok, I'm not sure how much cachet exists, but there is a certain adventure to being one.  Since I can't be an adventurer, this was the close second.

I'm sure that there are several other reasons why I'll miss what I've done and what I built with Lacuna.  They will probably reveal themselves slowly over the next few weeks as I try to acclimate to the corporate lifestyle.


*By the way, who is this man and why do so many of us have to work for him?  

self portrait

More friendly visits

Since I pretty much have no friends and family in Phoenix I always welcome visits. Last week I welcomed both a cousin and a Greg to town. While both stays were briefy they did a nice job of breaking up the daily monotony.

It was a weekend full of football and interesting conversation. I'm just now realizing how much time I spend in devotion to the undisputed favorite sport of this great nation I would be more worried if I was the only one with this tendency. But it's pretty obvious that a good slice of our population is overly devoted to football. All you need to do is to take a random sample of housewives and girlfriends to ascertain the source of the strange change that most men make starting in late August. I mean between the ASU-Colorado game, BYU-UCLA game, Cowboys game, and misc. football commentary we probably spent 10 hours bowing down to the grid iron gods.

Beautiful Wedding Weekend

I spent a very memorable weekend up in Utah celebrating the wedding of Heidi. The effort that she put into the weekend - yes the whole thing lasted like 5 days- was incredible and her attention to detail is astounding.

Among the highlights of the weekend:

• Obtaining some Jensen pride on the dancefloor at LaCaille. It only took 30 seconds of "Thriller" before all of the inebriated guests bowed down to the sublime moves supplied by 10 perfectly sober Jensens.


• The manicured gardens at LaCaille were gorgeous and verdant. The Wasatch moutain backdrop gave the gardens an alpine scent. The buildings were very french and opulent. Heidi's embellishments and add-ons were incredible. For more pictures go to my "photo repository" link on the side of the page or visit http://www.heathergibbphotography.com/slideshows/slideshow.php?Slideshow=heidi+wedding.


• The wedding open house in Kaysville was more understated and casual but still well done. It was for a wider audience and neighbors. Dad spent hours generating brisket and wound up making around 15lbs. Everyone loved it and I think I caught Max Fraughton helping himself to 4ths.


• Throw in a few visits with friends, a Fantasy Football Draft, BYU win, and the weather and I must confess that I miss Utah.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Anxiously Waiting

The 8 month pregancy journey has been equal parts exhilaration and anxiety. The gig is up and we are very ready to have our baby girl in our arms. We've reached the point were additional classes, opinions, and readings provide little more in terms of added benefits. There is one thing that can't be taught and that is parental instinct.
I'm sick of hearing opinions. They come from everyone and from any where. I've learned that there are many ways to deliver and raise a baby and none of them is absolutely right. We know our circumstances and we can tailor the best approach for our family. I'm sick of reading books. It's no fun looking at pictures and reading about things when you don't have a baby available to put them to the test. I'm sick of seeing Shelley in a constant state of uncomfort. She has been very patient up to this point but her resolve is weakening. I'm sick of going into our baby room and not having a baby girl to pick up.
I can't verbally emphasize how anxious we are. We are counting down the hours. If we have to wait any longer I might just have to reach up there and pull her out myself. Gar, do you feel the same?