Smoke 'em If You've Got 'em!

Ok, maybe that was a bad pun. For those of you who don't know, Babylon, also known as "Southern California", is ablaze in flame and smoke right now.
The fires are spread out throughout Los Angeles County, Orange County and San Diego County, with San Diego taking the biggest hit. All the fires were started for different reasons, some natural, and some, sadly, by arson.

The fires exploded out of control because the "Santa Ana" Winds have kicked in. For those unfamiliar with So Cal weather, every year about this time, massive winds come through the area. Over the weekend, some winds reached over 100 mph. This is what it did to our pool.

Some of my Seminary Students go to a high school that is currently acting as an evacuee shelter for many of the people affected by these infernos. One of our substitute Seminary Teachers is a full-time firefighter, and we learned this morning that yesterday he and his crew were overtaken by one blast of flames, but they were able to get under their "Fire Tents" in time and no one was hurt.

These are just some pictures that I took from near my home. Where I live is relatively safe, however, no one is escaping the effects of smoke, ash and haze. These pictures were taken about 3 in the afternoon, so you can tell how much sun is being blocked out by the smoke.

The absolute most amazing thing about all of this though, is that all through August and September, our local church leaders on the Stake and Ward levels have been warning us to have 72 Hour Kits prepared and ready to go. I thought it unusual at the emphasis they were placing on preparedness. Now I see why.

I don't know about you, but I am going to send up a few extra prayers for the men and women putting their lives on the line right now to battle these flames. At least we have FEMA! The way they handled Katrina...I think I am going to go do some more praying.

Apparently I Am Skinny

Ok, so it's no surprise that when it comes to body types, I was born with "Body By Gilligan". I didn't exactly realize HOW skinny I was until just recently. My boss accidentally locked her keys in her office. When we couldn't find the spare in the safe room, you could say that we were flummoxed.
One of my buddies there suggested that we climb over the wall, through the ceiling tiles. We grabbed a ladder and he climbed up to take a look. There really isn't much room between the ceiling tiles and the heating ducts, wiring, support beams, etc. that hold the place together. In fact...there are 7 1/2 inches of space.
My buddy, being a bigger guy, backed down and said it was impossible. I told him to let me take a look. He laughed and told me to go ahead. When I told him I thought I could fit, he laughed and said there was no way.
A few moments later, when I opened the office from the inside, all of them stood with mouths agape and looks of awe.
This is the hole I crawled through.

Yep....7 1/2 inches.

7-5=2

Hello and welcome to this my latest entry! I bet you are on the edge of your seat with eager anticipation to discover what is the latest and greatest in the Life O Zach. Well, I can assure you that if you are looking for adventure, travel, excitement, perhaps a little bit of romance and a heap chock full of good ol' fashioned drama...there's got to be something better out there to read. But I shan't disappoint through lack of effort. At the very least this fissiparous bombast should be slightly entertaining.
First things first...Buckskin Gulch. This was by far one of the greatest perambulations that I have ever had the pleasure to meander. I'll skip the details of the what and where...(see previous post)...and dive right into the who and whats.
Our group consisted of me, Uncle Karl, Cousins Craig and Ryan, their neighbors Craig (orange shirt), his boys Mark and Nate, and the two girls on the end are Melanie and her friend Kristi. Melanie works with Uncle Karl and Kristi is her friend.
The slot canyons were amazing. You really can't believe the sheer awesomeness of these geographical wonders of nature unless you are right there staring at them. Truly a work only accomplished by Heavenly Means.
At one point we crossed from Utah into Arizona...this picture shows about where that happened.
Overall, one of the best trips I have ever been on. Probably the one thing that stood out more than anything else was the first night, when I saw more stars packed in the night sky than I have ever seen before in my life. Unbelievable celestial show. Thanks Uncle Karl for setting pace as the fugleman of our motley crew.

7 is a Cleansing Number

Not exactly the smoothest transition...but hey...welcome to Drama Central. I have to admit that over the last few months, I have received quite a few requests for updates into the quagmire that is my social life, or rather, more specifically, "What's Up with the Wife Hunt?" (Too crass?)
I have to preface this grandiloquent, yet myopic, pasquinade with a short apology and overture. I realized rather sheepishly that in previous posts, I could have been a bit more subtle and changed the names of the innocent to save them the embarrassment of having shards of their life splayed out across the illumination of computer monitors across the nation like the tabloid headlines of some worthless rag. To you, I am sorry. I will endeavor from this point forward to be more sensitive to individuals involved.
With that said...let's dive into the history of the number 7. Why 7? According to ancient times, 7 was a cleansing number. Numerous references throughout the Old Testament cite the importance of doing things 7 times for a completion of rituals. The number 8 was considered a perfect number...but in order to get there, 7 had to be conquered. What is this fascination with 7? Delving into 2 Nephi 14:1 may shed some light on the whole situation, however, to avoid a completely cryptic entry, I will just say that I found that in my life there were 7 most eligible and fantastic women whom I found myself hoping to win the affection of.
A long time ago, most of my teenage years in fact, I grew up with the absolute conviction that there was but One person for each of us out there to marry. Now, (and this is where it gets confusing), I didn't think that there was a One and Only and she was the only one I could marry. I just thought there was One person for me.
I know...this is random...but imagine that your life is a book or novel. At the end of the book, you will know how your life ends up and to whom you were married. Well, because our Heavenly Father is Omnipotent, I knew that He had already read the book of my life and knew exactly who I would be marrying. So in that sense...looking from the back to the front, there really is only one person that I could marry. Going forward though...it could be anyone. The choice is still mine, (and hers). We just have to work our way through the book.
Alas...I digress. This said, I found myself looking at 7 most wonderful girls. Each of them in their own right is an spectacular exemplification of womanhood. However, polygamy being a thing of the past, and considering my luck thus far at achieving even one matrimonial success in my life, a wise friend suggested that it was time to clean house. I needed to sort through and narrow down as much as possible the whats and whos from my dating pool.
So that's what I have done. Fearing an inimical response, I won't name names. However, you will be happy to know that my gallimaufry collection has now been depleted to a much more manageable and realistic aggregation.

Did I mention 31 years old?

Utah - 2007

So I have just spent the last week in Utah and it has been, for the most part, wonderful. I have the greatest family in the world. Parents, siblings, cousins, aunts, uncles, nephews, nieces, extended family, everyone...some of the greatest people ever. I will add more about the trip a little later, but I wanted to post this video of our backpacking trip to Buckskin Gulch. It is the longest slot canyon in the world, and we hiked about 21 miles of it. The picture quality isn't the greatest because I didn't want to bog down your Internet connection loading it. I hope you enjoy:

Supernumerary Vagabonds

I'm not sure what it is, but lately, the number of bindle-boasting transients seems to have multiplied itself in this little production I call My Life. In the last two weeks there have been three separate occasions where gutterpups have played a central role.
It seems that just a short time ago, (and when I say short, I mean lacking the distance of a fortnight), a domicile-impaired individual thought it might be a good idea to become bunk mates with the Lord. No one is 100% sure how long he was able to pull this off, but it was recently found that a gentleman had moved himself into our church building and had been living there for some time. I suppose with its vast array of space and potential hiding places, it made for a perfect shanty, however, he was discovered and quickly evicted from his rent-free abode. Curious...this same building is where we have seminary each weekday morning...but more on that later.

My next adventure with vagrancy occurred last week when I flew up to Oakland for work. My journey to the Land of Raiders was aboard none other than the Southwest Airlines. Being famous for their "Cattle Calling" technique of sitting people, it is always a lottery draw to see who your co-lucky bench jockey is going to be. This trip I landed the Granola Award with Personal Hygiene Issues thrown in for that little bit of...what's that phrase again? Oh yeah...gag reflex. My quatragenarian traveling companion gave the distinct impression that he had not battled with a bar of soap since the turn of the Century. Aside from the odor though, it was his perpetual snow storm that had my skin crawling. You see...he was blessed with a full and thick head of long, albeit greasy, hair that he allowed to flow freely down and across his shoulders. However, each time he shook his locks, a small cloud of dandruff wafted through the air. He wasn't shy about shaking those ivory-flake infested tresses.
What was particularly entertaining was that on the other side of him sat an attractive young woman that was just too nice not to ignore him. He engaged her in conversation and although she was polite enough to respond just enough not to shoot him down directly, her body languages screamed, "If I had a tazer, it would be charging right now."

Finally, this morning we had another drifter drama at the church. During Seminary, it seems that an odd man carrying a lunch box, 4 grocery bags of sheet music, and a cell phone with charger, entered into the chapel, sat himself down at the piano and began plinking away at the keys. After class was over, I was one of the last to leave, I came into the lobby where my bishop, (great man by the way), and two mothers with wringing hands were standing around not really knowing what to do. They filled me in on as to our visitor, and the Bishop had finally gotten through on a phone call he had been trying to make. The man said that he was part of a musical group that will be performing during the Holidays and that he had permission to be there and use the piano. We found it odd that he couldn't name who his bishop was or who gave him this permission he spoke of. He did give his ward information, but that ended up being on the other side of Orange County. Finally, from all looks of it...he lived out of his van that was parked outside.
He did give one name whom the Bishop had finally gotten a hold of. She was in fact in charge of the upcoming production, but she didn't know who this guy was or why he was in our building.
So the Bishop asked me to accompany him as we gently asked this man to leave the building. He got quite upset and loud as he gathered his grocery bags. He ranted about how he was only there to make music and that music was all he lived for. I am not sure that tapping out A, E and F repeatedly with about 8 seconds of pause between each note constitutes music...but, to each his own.
However, I don't think I will soon forget his parting words that he loudly spoke over my Bishop's attempts to explain the proper order of scheduling the building, our transient friend shouted, "If you are trying to kick me out...then you obviously don't know what MUSIC is about!"
Apparently, I don't.

Position and Perspective
The game of Chess dates back so many centuries that no one is certain of its origin. For many years it was rumored to have come out of the great Northern countries of Prussia and other Slavic based cultures. Then it was found that Marco Polo had brought this game of Royalty back with him from the nether reaches of the Chinese Empire. Their credit to its creation was wiped away with exculpatory finiteness when new evidence was procured from the tomes of India's history. Still further, one bohemian string of thought is that this ancient game had its place with Ra and the Egyptian oligarchy. I suppose that whatever the farrago details of its origin may be, the elements of this game of mental prowess have transcended the history of man and still resonate in our cultures today.
The thing about chess is that despite all the strategy and skill and learned moves of opening and attacking, there remains but one key factor to any victor in this game, that factor is Position. As with the history of where this game was birthed, so also are the varied theories as to why and how the pieces that are used came to be. It is now accepted and seems that it always has been, that the two prominent characters on either side remain to be Royalty. A king and a queen, one the target of attack, the other given the utmost power to be used. Most novice players feel that the Queen is the most important piece on the board. However, the question haunts through the air, "Which piece is it that is actually being protected?" The queen is merely a player in the protection of the King.

A look at the layout of the board shows us that the front line is packed with disposable pawns. These pioneers into the battlefield, take upon the responsibility to seek out the enemy, engage when appropriate, and infiltrate the opposing camp. The military then takes its place in appropriate priority. Originally, the Rooks were ships of an Armada. They were the outer most defense to the King and Queen. Next closest to the Royal Family were the knights and the horseman warriors. They stood upon the shores and before the castles to protect their sovereign entities. Finally, the King and Queen, with their solid faith that they had been chosen and placed by the Hand of God, they kept near them the Priests and Cardinals that spoke and acted in the voice of the Lord. Such was their faith. Finally, the Queen, living up to the old adage that "Hell hath no fury such as a woman scorned", sacrificed and fought for the man she loved. A completely selfless act of true devotion for her husband.
Now these are just theories. Mere wandering thoughts as I traipse through another meandering jaunt of thought and evaluation. I linger on the idea of position. How is it that so many times in our lives, we find ourselves in positions that prevent us from taking the next step. Oft times this position is due to choices that we made ourselves. Once in awhile, though not as often as we would like to believe, our position is thrust upon us by outside influences. However, ultimately, we choose who it is we will become, what it is that we will do, and how it is that we will live our lives.
To my loyal quidnunces, I applaud that you continue to read through my less than laconic drama as it unfolds. You may question what in the world it is that I am trying to say right now. However, just know that many times, we find our position is not always aligned with the position of those we wish to be with. Something has to give...someone has to move.

I'm An Uncle...Again!
Last night my brother Gabe and his wife (well, she did most of the work), had their first son: Jordan Wesley. He was born at 8 Lbs 11 oz and 21 inches. (At least those are the numbers I remember.)
Congratulations Gabe!

My only question is...why did they make Gabe wear a hair net?

Passports and Pepsi
Recently I found out that there is a decent chance (about 1 in 15) that I could be going to Cancun Mexico in October. Although this isn't the greatest set of odds out there, I thought that it might improve my chances of going if I were to have a current passport. (Obviously those who don't have a current passport will NOT be going, no matter how cute they are).

So today on my day off, I decided I would go about renewing my passport. Now I am not an international traveling tyro, on the contrary, I have been to several countries around the world. It just so happens that my passport expired about 3 years ago and I haven't really made the effort to renew it. But laziness aside, I set about filling out the forms, getting photographs and heading over to the local Passport Processing Facility, (also known as the Post Office).
The forms were not a problem. I found them online and was able to fill it all out and print them without a hitch. (PS- Mom and Dad, I listed you as people to contact in case of an emergency or if I ever happened to, you know, disappear in an airport or something).

It was the photographs that rankled me. I went to Kinkos FedEx because it was local. First, note to reader: Many passport facilities are already set up to take your photograph, so you don't have to pay more to someone else. Also, when the store "recommends" that you get two sets of photographs, don't bother. It isn't required.
But apparently what IS required is that you don't smile. Now, I have been around the international traveling circuit a couple of times and I really think that this is an old wives' tale. I have never been able to find a law or requirement that states your picture can't be dentigerous. However, the ever diligent and ready to incommode clerical photographer insisted that I not smile. This was the first photograph that was rejected:

And this is the one that he said was acceptable:

Odd...the second one is a much greater likeness to my criminal mug shot from my scrape with the fine men and women of the C.H.P last year and that llama. (Just kidding...there was no scrape...or llama).

Don't forget to smile.

In other news, it's hot. I know that Utah is experiencing a record heat wave right now, and I can't imagine how it is. But things aren't so paradisaical down here in the OC either. If it wasn't for the swimming pool, I don't know how we would survive:)

For those of you seeking an update and knowledge about the drama in my life, I apologize that I have not yet found myself on the transpontine side of Drama River.

And to the anonymous poster requesting it, I give you a Pepsi on a diving board:

And to show that I am not a total sell-out (this one is for me)
Dr. Pepper on a diving board:

Just a Thought

This is a picture of my favorite beverage (on a diving board):

This is a picture of a T-Shirt that I bought at a truck stop:

That's all.

New AND Improved Blog Entry!
Now 99.9% Drama-Free!
For those of you who have read more than two or three of my posts, you know that I have a proclivity for peripatetic musings. Because of this, my posts are often random. Such would describe this post.

At first I was going to title this, "You say 'Cho-LESS-terol' but I say 'Cho-MORE-terol'", but I feared the play on words would be lost on everyone except myself and my desultory sense of humor. The reason for this naming is because the majority of this writing is dedicated to the awesome experience that is The Orange County Fair! Yes, I went. It was fabulous. Fabulous is not an adequate word to describe the encounter I had with the Carnies and their effrontery to any and all passers-by. It truly amazes me at how bold these mullet-adorned, tank-top wearing, lost generation of the wrong-side of the tracks 80's generation specimens can be. We all know that with their "Business in the Front/Party in the back" type attitude, they are there to make a buck and have some fun at the same time, however, as I turned down yet another opportunity to win a giant stuffed Tasmanian Devil, I had to admire the tenacity at the vendor as he tried every trick and phrase in the book to reel me in. But I can happily say that nary a carnival game was able to procure from me even a dollar.

Nevertheless, I did leave the fair a good $30-$40 less than when I arrived. Part of that went to a t-shirt to commemorate my first ever California County Fair experience, but the majority of it went straight to my ever-climbing cholesterol level. I speak of course, of fried foods.

Most of you know that I have a thing for foods. All foods. Strange foods. Different and New Foods. I am a Foodie. Because of this addiction, the OC Fair happened to be, at least for a time, the Greatest Place on Earth for me. They had everything you could imagine, and then they also had it fried. Here is just a taste of the foods that I partook of:

Fried Snickers Bar! This truly did Satisfy!

I am not sure what these were...but they were good. My best guess is that they were just fried batter.

Last year at the Payson Onion Days, we found, and enjoyed, a sandwich called "The Motherlode". It was basically a cheeseburger, with onions, and a Polish Sausage, all in a bun. This wasn't quite that large...but you have to give them credit for "Kreativity". Behold: The Fried Chicken Sandwich placed lovingly between two halves of a Raspberry-filled Krispy Kreme Donut, (and side items of Fried Avocado and Fried Tomatoes (red ones...not green)!

Now the whole reason that I was at the county fair was because my good friend Christina happens to have some serious connections around town and was able to procure tickets for the both of us to The Plain White T's and Blue October. This was a VERY cool concert, made even more cool when I learned that The Plain White T's song, "Hey There Delilah" was at the time, the number one song on the Billboard Charts and iTunes. It isn't often that you get to see the number one band in the world live.

As an added bonus, after that concert, we were able to sneak into the last part of Weird Al Yankovic's concert!

But what is a county fair without some more food?

Yes...that is a turkey leg!

And finally, as we were leaving the fair, we saw this sign, which I am sure was an aposematic decree to all of the Judean Belief:

Not only is it Non-Kosher...but it is the posterior side of the Non-Kosher animal. But it sure tastes good!

So in conclusion...there is no drama to report of this week...but I give this entry as a dedication to all things County Fair. In the immortal words of Pedro and Napoleon Dynamite, "The bull goes moo, the ducks go quack, Napoleon has got my back. I like to eat the cakes and pies, My shoe just stepped in a surprise! The Utah State Fair (or Orange County), where all of your wildest dreams will come true!"

Roller-Coaster-O-Drama!

Please keep your hands and feet in the ride at all times, remember not to spit from the ride, and whatever you do, don't disengage the safety bar when hanging upside down. Enjoy the Ride!

First of all, I want to thank everyone for the enormous outpouring of support (and advice) that I have suddenly found myself deluged with. Despite the sarcastic undertones (*see "advice"), I really do appreciate every one of you and the thoughts you have shared.

However, I think it is important for you to have all of the details. As Paul Harvey is famous for saying, "And now...for the REST of the story."

Since my last entry, I have seen the masses lining up on two sides, those cheering for certain things to transpire, and those who are cheering for other events. I think it important that all the details are laid out in the open. If for nothing else, it makes for far more entertaining reading.

Obviously since The Letter, my world has been turned upside down. It has been clear that there is a lot of favoritism for the ideal "story book" ending to play out. I have to admit...it really would be a fantastic story to tell future generations. Fairy Tales couldn't hold a candle to the emotional angst that this has created.

However, before we all go traipsing down "Once upon a" Boulevard, (I recognize the irony that I used those exact same words earlier), it is important to point out three MAJOR points in the story:

1 - Although she finds herself RECENTLY single again, Mandy has a whole lot going on in her life right now and needs nothing more than the love and support of her friends and family to help her through this transition. Tossing on the additional stress and "craziness" that is dating would only hinder her, and in no way help her. All of you married folk...don't forget that dating, for lack of a better term, sucks like a vacuum.

2 - It has been 7 years. A lot can happen in 7 years. People change. In the time of Joseph in Egypt, entire civilizations were wiped out in a 7 year drought. Studies show that every 7 years, marriage relationships cycle through their own growth and developments. 7 years ago, choices were made that have affected all of us. One of those choices made was to marry a man...who wasn't me. Because it wasn't me, I had to move on. It wasn't exactly an easy pill to swallow, no matter how insensitive, shallow and oblivious I might have been. But I did swallow it and I did move on. Huge portions of my life have been locked away for a very long time. Thanks to the Ghost of Relationships Past...I have to face some skeletons in my closet.

3 - Finally, probably the most crucial crux in the situation, is the fact that there is another girl. Three years ago, I met a girl who got me. With no pretensions, no assumptions and no preconceived notions, she understood me and we quickly developed a very close friendship. For the last three years, she has been my best friend. You may ask, why has it taken three years for you to recognize how amazing she is? Well, it is because both of us have found ourselves in relationships with other people all along our path. However, when each of those relationships came to a screeching halt, we were there for each other. You hear stories about finding someone with whom you are comfortable. Someone who you know that no matter what mistakes you might make, no matter what stupid choices you may carry out, they will still care about you. It is a comfort that is rare, but I found it with her. Needless to say, several weeks ago, we started talking about how long we had been friends...and how close we had grown. When I was last in Utah, during my whirlwind trip of Independence celebration, someone said, "You know it works best when you marry your best friend." Well, I realized that this girl is my best friend. We had just started talking about taking things to the next level.

And now my Drama Roller Coaster decides to go for a loop. Please do not mistake this as a cry of annoyance or anything bad. On the contrary, nothing that has happened in the last month or so has been considered an intrusion into my life in anyway. (Except for some SPAM e-mail I keep getting...that is annoying). I know that each of you reading this has probably already "chosen sides" and know the team you are rooting for...(except for my Mother...she loves me and told me that whoever I marry, she is going to love)...I know lines have been drawn...but I implore you to know that I am doing the best I can. I have NO idea how things are going to work out. However, several months ago, when I was asked to teach Seminary, I had a good long, heartfelt discussion with our Heavenly Father. I told Him that I had concerns with taking on such an assignment because it would take much of my free time, time that my priesthood leaders had encouraged me to use to find an eternal mate. There were other concerns, but they are between me and Heavenly Father. Anyway, I received an answer to my plea. The answer is this: The Lord will guide me and help me find her. Whoever she may be.

Please don't choose yet. I haven't.

Jack Boots Through My Garden

Do you know what a Jack Boot is? It is a deep lugged leather armament designed with one purpose and one purpose only: To ensure that everyone knows the wearer is coming or has already passed. The Jack Boot is designed to leave a mark.

They have left their mark on my once peaceful and serene life. The Ghost of Relationships Past has hitched up his Jack Boots and stomped his way through the garden of my routine life. He trod right up to my Vault of Emotions, kicked in the door and ripped out feelings long since forgotten. Why did the Ghost of Relationships Past decide to pay me a visit? Because a girl who was a very important part of my life many years ago has returned.

As you might know...my Mom calls me up a week or so ago and tells me that a letter has just arrived at their home in Utah and the return address just has one name: Mandy. No last name, but as soon as she says the name, my stomach drops, my heart leaps and my kidneys do a slight little tango as my spleen sits there, (much like spleens are prone to do). At first I tried to convince myself that this was ANOTHER Mandy that I have known for many years and recently got married and perhaps it was a birth announcement of her soon-to-be-born child. However...I knew it wasn't. Don't ask me how I knew...I just did. It was from HER. THE Mandy.

Let me take you back...many years back...in fact, almost half my life ago. As we walk down Memory Lane, I invite you to take a look at a happy young couple. A blond-haired boy (with a full head of hair I might mention), eager about life, excited about possibilities, anxious to get his life going, and overall oblivious to the major hints coming from the companion by his side, and an equally fair-haired lass with the looks of a super-model, the brains of a college professor, and the love (for this boy), that knew no boundaries. For several years, theirs was a relationship of parry and thrust, a constant misunderstanding of the other person's intentions. Oh there was no doubt that they both cared for each other. Far more than either had ever experienced before. Observers of the young couple would whisper among themselves about how perfect these two really were for each other, if they could only get their heads on straight and bearings on course.

But alas, it was not to be. The boy soon left on his mission, as was always expected. It was never a question that he wouldn't go. The question was..."What would happen when he did"?

The mission soon played out to be a proving ground for their relationship. Although he had told her that he didn't want her to put her life on hold for two years, he secretly hoped she would. And although she had every intention to wait for him, no matter what the cost, at the end of two years...she hadn't exactly stayed the course.

But it was no fault of her own. No...the full fault of that falls back upon the boy. Through a series of letters, the penultimate of which was a letter asking that they "slow things down a notch", and the ultimate being a letter from said girl's sister telling the boy that he will NEVER know how much he hurt her, the relationship was left in tatters on the Battlefield of Love, (I hate that battlefield), never fully regaining its once supramundane status of invincibility.

Over a year later, he tried to re-kindle what was once there. The letters started again from Russia...and for quite a while, they only flowed in one direction. Then towards the end of said mission, a few bare-bone letters made their way back. But the damage had been done. Miscommunication had once again stuck its evil little finger in the light-socket of love and the black mark of scorched plastic could not be erased.

Oh they tried. But it was clear that neither of them were ready or willing to make the sacrifices needed to put one's heart on the line again. They say that "Pain is temporary and Pride is forever". Whoever said that was an ignorant moron that never truly knew what pain could be.

A few failed dates, weeks of non-talking, and several half-hearted attempts later, and they both kind of drifted their separate ways. Oh they stayed in touch on a purely superfluous level. He got caught up in a career. She found another to love and was married. After that...silence settled his big fat butt on the toilet seat of their so-called-relationship and took a dump.

It's been a long time. 7 years? 8 years? 9 years? Something in there. And then this letter...with no last name.

I had to wait almost a week before it arrived. Obviously during that time I did a lot of thinking. What was in the letter? Why no last name? How come it had a Payson Postmark (she was supposedly living in Salt Lake)?

The letter finally arrived. It was very surface as far as detail is concerned. But it was exactly what I had suspected. She is single again. 2 kids. Living in Payson and working in Provo. And she just wanted to see what I was up to.

I can't even comprehend the courage it must have taken her to write that letter. To make that effort was enormous. To what end was she playing this gambit? I guess that will take time to know.

I wrote her back. The majority of said letter was about everyone else in my family and what they have been up to. I might have mentioned that I was in California, (ok, I did). But all in all it didn't say much.

She called last night. It was weird...but at the same time, completely natural. I had forgotten how well we connected...when we weren't getting tangled up in our (my) own fallacies. I hope she knows how glad I am that she tracked me down.

I know some people's thoughts: "What now?" "Are you going to date her?" "What's going to happen?"

The answer is...I don't know. On one hand I guess that whole idea of "living happily ever after" could find itself being replaced with "Once upon a time...."

But it is too soon to tell. Besides...I kind of like the direction things are going with my life.

Editor's Note* If you made it this far...thank you for your patience and congratulations on your tenacity. I know this entry was pretty random, but I appreciate your reading it. I needed to get some thoughts out.

Nostalgia - Your burden is heavy on my shoulders

Due to recent events in my life...ok, just one event actually that seems to stretch longer and longer as the anticipation of a notorious, yet evasive, letter to be received continues to build a virtual flood of maudlin euphoria, I find myself paddling along the river of reminiscence and wading through memories that had long been forgotten. I won't go into any more detail about said letter, as it has not yet arrived, but when I was alerted to its existence and its continuing journey westward, the floodgates were unleashed and experiences and emotion that have been rooted in the depths of my mental archives were swiftly yanked from their eternal slumber and blasted in full 80's Hi-Fi Stereo and full spectrum color across the widescreen that is my mind. It seems that many of them however, were originally filmed in standard NTCS television standard, so widescreen or not...they are square.

Because of this walk down memory lane, I have spent the better part of this week indulging myself in activities that foster and strengthen these remembrances. Here is a list of some of the things I have allowed myself to dabble in:

The Nightmare Before Christmas - This has to be the longest running money-making machine to ever come across the big screen with only a single movie title to its name. Most movie franchises that stretch for more than two or three years have multiple movies attached to them. Tim Burton's Nightmare Before Christmas continues to make money for Disney over a decade after it was created. In fact, just yesterday I found a new version of the movie soundtrack re-done by contemporary artists such as Fiona Apple, Marilyn Manson, Fall Out Boy and Panic at the Disco!. It is an excellent rendition of Danny Elfman's original work of genius.


The Karate Kid - Daniel-san and Mr. Miyagi still have it. On my day off last week, I watched all 3 of the original Karate Kid Movies in one stretch. A waste of time you say? Nay...I disagree. I found myself awash in memories not just of the movie, but of events of my life that revolved around each of these movies. Classic.


Super Mario 2 - With the advent of the Nintendo Wii, they have made it possible to resurrect old classics from the bygone days of video game lore. The original big names are making a return and they are doing it with style. Of the original Nintendo Mario Brother games, number 2 probably got overshadowed for the most part. There are only a handful of people I know of that can say they beat #2. I am proud to be a part of that elite group of Mario-enthusiasts.


Voltron - Obviously there is a lot of hype right now with the Transformers movie that has just been released. And it is awesome. However, there was another robot adventure that unfolded many thousands of light-years away from Earth wherein 5 robot lions combined to create the Defender of the Universe - Voltron. The cartoon has been available on DVD for a couple of months now, however, until recently they were priced exorbitantly too high. This week they cut the prices almost in half, so I picked up Volume 1. I had forgotten how cruddy the animation was...but at the same time I find myself waxing quite maudlin as I watch these episodes. It is surprising how much I remember of the story line.


Finally, this was an unexpected surprise of memory jarring. I don't know how many of you will remember this short lived series from 1982 - 1983 about a former pirate named Phineas Boggs and his sidekick Jeffery Johnson, an orphan who finds himself time traveling with Phineas to help make sure time and historic events happen as they are supposed to. They traveled with a hand held device that looks like a brass compass called the Omni. I was surfing the Net yesterday and found a reference that the entire series had been released on DVD. As soon as I got off work, I headed over to Best Buy and found: VOYAGERS!

It is amazing what one minor event, such as learning that there is a letter coming from someone whom you have not heard from in almost a decade, can do to turn your calm and routine world up on its ear. Especially when just the knowledge of that letter erupts long-forgotten feelings, emotions and memories that have been shackled out of the light of thought for oh so long. 9 years is not just a moment.

Family...Isn't it about time?

I just returned home from one of the greatest vacations that I have ever had. What made it so great? No...I didn't see any celebrities. I didn't get to eat anything too odd or weird. I didn't even get to meet any former Presidents of the United States like that time I jaunted down to Venezuela.

What made this trip so great was that I got to spend so much time with my family. Growing up, I thought it was completely normal to have three sets of Grandparents, three sets of Aunts and Uncles, and three sets of cousins. It wasn't until I was well into my teens that I finally realized that our family was an exception...and we had exceptional extended family.

See, my mother was married to a man named Doug. They had one daughter, (my older sister Monica). When she was still very young, Doug passed away. A short time later, (though I am sure at the time it probably seemed like a long time), my mother met and eventually married my father. Doug's family accepted my father as one of their own, and went out of their way to make sure that everyone always felt included.

None of us children ever felt that we were different in anyway. Sure, by pure genetics, there isn't any relation. However, that entire side of the family is Family, and nothing will ever change that. They are to this day, some of the most generous, sincere, giving, wonderful people that I have ever met. I feel as close to them and as a part of their family as I do with my cousin whom I have lived with as a roommate. I am grateful and thank my Heavenly Father every day that they are a part of my life.


So it was with them that I spent the majority of the 4th of July Holiday. My uncle has a cabin up in the mountains of Colorado that we go to each year. Even though the number of activities up there are endless, we typically end up doing two things: Sitting around and eating delicious food. But none of us ever complain about it.


One particular high point of this year was another uncle bringing out well over $1000 worth of fireworks, pulling me and my cousin aside and saying, "Now last year we dragged this out for the better part of two hours. This year, I want all of these fireworks gone in 10 minutes or less."

We obliged. I couldn't see or hear for several hours afterwards, but we let off every one of those things in a cacophony of festive spectacular. I didn't get to see much because I was scurrying around lighting fuses, but I heard later that it was pretty impressive. Side note: don't put your face too close to exploding fountains...it can flash burn your face.


The last day of my vacation I was able to go to another uncle's cabin where we had a gathering for my father's side of the family. It was truly a wonderful time to see many of my relations, to hug them, talk to them and catch up. I tell you what...I have the greatest family, all three sides, that anyone could ever be blessed with.


I also want to give a shout out to Blue. I am starting to realize how important a part of my life she is.

I want to be a "Cabooster"!

If you drive about 6 miles north of my house, you will come across Angel Stadium where the Anaheim Angels Baseball team play their home games. You can't miss it as it is very large and has a behemoth of an "A" out front. If you are willing to drive just three minutes further down the 57, and willing to pay 1/10th the price, you can go to an Orange County Flyers' Game. The Flyers are a minor league baseball team who's logo is that of a train, and their Booster club is named...ready for this? The Caboosters!

We had the opportunity to go to one of their games last night, (Saturday). I invited my buddy Damian along from work because, next to my brother-in-law who lives too far away, he knows more about baseball than anyone else I know. We had a great time. The Flyers won their game, (though in the final inning there was an impressive rally made by the Yuma team...but their gumption was just shy of the needed dosage.) It was during the game that I remembered the last time I went to a minor league game, about a year ago with the Orem Owls. Most of my family was there, and even though none of us (save my brother-in-law), have ever really been big fans of the game, we all had a great time. Here at the Flyers' game, I could see a lot of families having similar memory-building experiences. The Average Joe can't take his entire family to a major league game on a regular basis, so the minor leagues are where you see more family-oriented activities. They had games for the kids, lots of fun, clean music, and overall, it was a good environment.

Basically what it comes down to is this: Find your local minor league baseball team, shell out the $5 per ticket and go enjoy some good clean fun. You don't have to like baseball to enjoy it. But if you go with friends and loved ones...you will have a good time. And you will support your local minor league athletes who are playing the game for the purest reason of all...they love it.

Go Flyers-

Return of the "Holy Crap That's A Good Burger!!"

This last weekend I was on yet another work-related road trip. These are always wonderful experiences as we get a chance to try new places to eat along the way. However, this trip, we happened to be passing through North LA, so we decided on a reunion tour of "The Counter". In my very first blog ever, I wrote about the burger that I had there. Well, the second time was just as good. As you can see by the picture...it is ambrosia between an English Muffin. And I know my wise sister and brother-in-law told me last time, but I couldn't help it, "Just because you can put all of those ingredients together, doesn't mean that you should." I still put the cranberries on. If you are ever out visiting LA, and are near the Temple, be sure to check out The Counter.

Happy Blogging to All And To All A Good Day!

So my friend Mighty Bob (her Native Ki'Che name is alPop) is down in Guatemala doing a research project. She has started a blog detailing her trip and the adventures of dysentery and cultural exchange. I have added her blog to my links. I really hope you take a chance to read up on her trip. Very entertaining and educational.

Take care of yourself Mighty Bob!