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.
My own private oasis away from the cares and responsibilities of everyday life.
Saturday, April 28, 2007
Thursday, April 26, 2007
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.
Thursday, April 19, 2007
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.
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.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
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.
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.
Thursday, March 08, 2007
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.
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.
Friday, March 02, 2007
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...
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...
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
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 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.
Sunday, November 12, 2006
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.
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.
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
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?
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?
Sunday, October 08, 2006
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.
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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---
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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---
Friday, October 06, 2006
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?
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?
Thursday, October 05, 2006
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
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.
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.
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
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.
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.
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
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.
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.
Saturday, September 02, 2006
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...
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