OK, here it is. I'm just gonna shoot you straight. I went to a musical the other night. But there's a really good reason. I swear. See, those of you that are regular subscribers to our newsletter know that I continually get my arse handed to me on a regular basis playing racquetball. I'm not going to go over the minute details of where and why. Suffice it to say, one of the offending parties insists on talking smack about it, which I've held my tongue, not because I'm a gentleman, but because I dont want to make him cry. See, Army guys just...know stuff. They can cut right to the very quick and spill your emotional guts out onto the table with little or no effort. So, since I like this guy, I'm breakin' him in easy. In fact, just last week I floated past him a little nuance about teaching his sister spanish. Well, that went over pretty well, but I dont know if we're necessarily ready to trade mamma yokes yet.
So, anyhow, this particular dude, whom we'll call...."Stephan" seems to be able to keep up intellectually. But in discussions with another friend whom we'll call, "Big Show" it was discovered that Scott...er..."Stephan" is somewhat of a homophobe. (NOT that there's anything WRONG with that-George Costanza). Anyhow, Stephan has made it abundantly clear that anything feminine in nature is to be avoided and that as men we have a duty to withhold affections and emotions from those around us. OK, I'm paraphrasing. But I'll be honest, after the previous two months of having my posterior (ironically) handed to me by Stephan, an opportunity for refined vengence came calling. See, in my email box, almost by devine providence, came an offer for FREEEEEEEEEEEE tickets to go see, "Hairspray". Well, never having heard if it, and knowing full-well that my spousal-unit had dropped about 9000 hints that she wanted to attend one, AND being that I'm trying to be a better man, I saw in this a two-fer. Not to mention, my good friend, Big Show, was complicit in the revenge plot and the stage...as it were...was set.
So, over the past couple weeks in anticipation, we've all joked back and forth about the night's festivities. We planned a dinner to the foo-foo-est place imaginable, "Sweet Tomatoes". Well, it turns out the night of the play (Wednesday) Stephan's wife suggested to my wife, "Mimi's" which was equally gay (again...NOT that their's anything WRONG with that-Jerry Seinfeld)...and the trap was set. Well, Big Show and his chica couldnt make it to dinner, so we were alone with the Stephanseses ("Stefahhnns"). So, in my ever-escalating desire to secretly get even, I printed out two coupons for Mimi's AND made reservations to ensure this whole thing was going to go down. Well, I brought the two coupons home, and had my daughter Alexia cut stupid little special scissor cuts around the peripherals of the coupon, and tie a little ribbon on it so that Stephan was forced to use it to pay for the Big Salad at dinner's completion.
Anyhow, so we made Stephan considerably uncomfortable, and our waitress, "Vickie" whom I called, "Francene" was a total tart to our party of party-goers. The checks came and though we both paid with our foo-foo coupons, she failed to take the five dollars off. So the irony again set in.
Well, we went to the play...er...musical...got our tickets...and lemme just tell you...there was a LOT of hand-holding going on. That was just the guys. There were groups of four or five women that were out on the town, just painting it pink, and us...six of us....heterosexual couples. I hugged Stacey throughout the performance let me tell you. Anyhow, it was modestly cheesey, and in parts I definately wondered WHAT I had gotten myself into, but I tell you what, the whole night was worth it.
It was worth it for a couple of reasons. Number one, I love to laugh. I love to have fun with people, and Stephan's uncomfort and Big Show's Straight Man attitude made it all the more perfect. We all took turns cutting at each other, but it was all in good fun. Somehow I got re-named, "Cinnamon" and Stacey suggested I get that tattooed across my lower back. I of course suggested Old English lettering (in keeping with the latino tradition) and it just devolved from there. Stephan's wife seemed to have enjoyed her time, Big Show and Mrs. Big Show enjoyed the evening and laughed, and I guess, if you cornered me, so did I.
So, that's pretty much the scoop. You're caught up at this point I guess so I'll close. I hope you have a great day. I'm just finishing an episode of Dora, and one episode of Shaun the Sheep with Olivia. Next is the lawn, and in tradition, I may just clean out the garage today.
You know I'd love to tell you all this in person but situations dictate it's just not possible. So with that, enjoy your day, enjoy your family, have a "faaahntastic" weekend and we'll catch you again sometime real soon.
All the best.
Always,
J
Friday, August 26, 2011
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Internal and External Motivators...
So today I had a spot of inspiration. Not a giant leap of understanding, but just a general milling of understanding beating just beneath my heart of hearts. I know quite a few people right now that are working on personal issues. Some of them are of a spiritual nature, and some are of a physical nature. What struck me today, was one of the physical issues. It’s about weight-loss and body image. I think I’m finally qualified to talk a little bit about the subject.
Lately, oh say, over the last year or so, I’ve semi-resolved to do a little makeover of my own self on both the inside and the out. My personal challenges on the inside are not necessarily germane to understanding this concept, but instead a necessary part of understanding internal motivations. What I mean is, we all come with a little baggage right? Some of us have mothers that love us and prop us up and tell us we are the entire world, others have mothers that feel their best way to assist you in your personal growth is to tear you down a notch and offer, “constructive criticisms”. I’ll be honest, I’ve never dealt with the former. I’ve always enjoyed a family that consistently buoys up my self-image and beliefs in what’s possible. For others of course, that’s not the case. Additionally, we may come from an abusive home, be it emotional or physical. We may come from a divorced family, we may come from a staunch religious family but be the 11th kid in succession. Whatever. I think it’s just important to take stock in what we’re personally dealing with and be honest about it.
Lately I’ve been attending racquetball with the boys either once or twice a week. In addition I’ve resolved, mostly through my lovely wife’s example to get up each morning (and yes, most Saturdays) and take full and complete advantage of the facilities where I work. I’ve had somewhat of a regimen and it worked up until the point where I hit a plateau and failed to see further progress. Let me back up a little. I joined the military right out of high school. During my time in the Navy I had little or no problems keeping fit. Once I left military service, for about a five year period, I no longer had someone breathing down my neck to ensure I stayed fit. My external motivation never transitioned to internal motivation. Then, about a year before September 11th, I had a feeling. No, the Lord told me that he expected me to again join the military service. This time with the Army National Guard. I of course told the Lord he was somehow mistaken, that I’d already served our nation, and that he must have gotten his wires crossed with someone else. After much argument back and forth betwixt the two of us, He finally convinced me I wasn’t getting out of this one.
Well, I went to meet with a recruiter. Part of the recruitment process is of course a physical evaluation and weigh-in. Well, as embarrassing as this is, I had to meet with him about five times over a ten month period to just make the initial weight requirements to enter service again. I was humiliated. There’s nothing worse than taking your shirt off in some Gold’s Gym and having a tape around your middle that exceeds your personally perceived pant size by 6 or 8 inches. But the Lord kept telling me to move forward, and so, a little at a time I lost a couple of pounds. I’ll be honest, I think I just squeaked by when I went to weigh in to reenlist. I was about 238-240 lb at 5’9” tall. Luckily my fat neck somehow off-set my fatter middle and I made it back in.
Well, from there, I went to Officer Candidate School. I was well liked, and did well academically, but I failed my run to ship to South Dakota to complete my training. I felt like a floating turd I tell ya. I distinctly remember one of the TAC Officers behind me in a HMMWV yelling, “Nobody wants to follow a fat captain!” or something to that regard. Well, that’s external motivation again. Guess what? I failed. It was humiliating. I had to go back to my unit for a year and wait to go back to OCS. I’ll be honest, I’m glad I did. It gave me some time to take stock of my situation and where I wanted to be versus where I was. Additionally I learned some leadership lessons I’m not sure I would have gleaned otherwise.
Well, the next year, at about 215 lb I re-entered the program. I shipped to South Dakota, this time for a fast-track program that lasted about 10 weeks. It’s like fat-camp on steroids. You just plain don’t sleep or get rest and nobody wants to hear your lame excuses as to why you can’t be a leader and a motivator of troops.
I exited OCS at about 172 lb. I had to buy a pair of pants at the local wal-mart and a belt because my clothes I brought no longer fit. I distinctly remember looking at the label over and over and seeing, “32” on it in complete bewilderment. It wasn’t until I got home and everyone kept telling me I looked 18 again that it really sunk in.
Well guess what? External motivation ruled the day. The past few years I’ve worked on my internal motivations and I feel I’m getting better. Every few days I remind myself that nobody wants to follow a fat captain. It’s true you know. Soldiers just think that way. If you can’t take care of yourself, what makes you think you can take care of me? Guess what? They are completely correct. If my Soldiers can’t move forward and are constantly wondering why there are multiple standards for everyone, how can they trust me to lead them? Well here we are, I’ve been commissioned 8 years almost. I’m actually eligible for Major in the spring of this coming year. From a buck-sergeant who started as an E-1, they’re going to make this kid from Riverton, Utah a Major. Here’s the other thing. This past two years I’ve been in command of the State Headquarters unit. EVERYONE is a critic here. You know who they don’t want to follow? A captain, let alone a fat captain. So, again my motivation had to shift from external, further into the realm of internal. Right now, today, I’m riding about 200 lb even. But there’s a difference. I’d say I’ve got 20lb more muscle than when I entered service again 8 years ago. I think ideally at 190 lb I’d be golden. But, I’m fighting ten pounds. Anyone who’s ever tried knows those are the hardest to get rid of too.
So what am I doing? Crash diet? Lypo? Nope. I had to take a cold hard look at what’s holding me back. 52 oz of diet soda twice per day for starters. Argue all you want, but the carbonation coupled with the perceived sugar sensation causes our bodies to get fouled up trying to regulate insulin and other critical levels. What else? Well, my wife as an external motivator, started working out. We’ve had some severe issues as a couple the past couple of years, and I think she finally just decided to finally take care of herself instead of me and my bratty kids. To which I applaud and try to assist in anyway possible. She’s finally internally motivated. So motivated in fact that at her fifth pregnancy I think she’s more healthy and more fit than I’ve ever seen her. Teenage dreams included.
Well, in addition to Stacey’s example, being the unit commander for the State Headquarters, I’ve had some personal challenges of my own to contend with. Some demons if you will. I’ve had to really take stock of who I am as a person versus who I want to become. I had to stop telling myself that this was just the way I am and everyone else needed to get over it. I’m fluffy, but loveable so leave me alone quit working as well. My own internal issues gave me pause to wonder about my self-worth. My standing with my Heavenly Father, my level of involvement in my marriage, and my desire to be the best dad the world has ever known. My challenges, are such that Satan whispers to me that good enough, is…well good enough. I’ve had to fight him off and tell him that my Heavenly Father expects so much more of me and push him out completely. Which, is a real challenge considering what he offers me is sometimes delectably preferable to real-life and its challenges.
So, why am I telling you all this? Well, I think too often I get lambasted with people saying things that to me don’t take into account my own personal struggles. Very very few people know what my family and I have had to deal with the past couple of years. People look at our home, our neighborhood, our beautiful children, my perfect wife, and my new suit and make a whole lot of assumptions about us that just aren’t true. It’s offensive to me at times. Why? We’ve worked for everything we have. Nobody handed it to us. We each got an education. That was tough. We sacrificed for our first home, a two bedroom. We buy and pay cash as we go. I drive a 15 year old pickup. We don’t have cable, and our cell phones are antiques. Why? Because we’re doing the best we can to follow what we know to be right. Well, how does this factor into a discussion on weight issues? Here goes, people seem to assume that we’re the perfect family. That my perfect canning wife, and the perfect military husband just plain do no wrong. Not the case. I’ll tell you what, I’d trade you demons straight across in a heartbeat. Satan has put his angels to work tearing my family apart like I’ve never seen before. It’s become an internal motivator for us too. We’re going to beat him. To me, the fact that he tells me I’m destined to fail, makes me know my Father in Heaven knows so much better. That he would work so hard to tear us down, tells me our family stands at the crossroads at a pivotal time.
OK, so here’s my “advice” for you. You need to quit being externally motivated. Nobody is going to slap cookies out of your hand. Nobody is going to fault you for having a cheeseburger every day at lunch. Oh, by the way, you’re not even a bad person for doing so. That’s not my point. My point is, how much does that slow you down from what you know you can really become? Are you everything you know your Father in Heaven expects? Are your thoughts generally clean? Are your efforts 100%? Or are you living the status-quo life? Hey, I’m not judging anyone BELIEVE me. All I am saying, is have you really taken stock of who you really are, and what He expects you to become? This past year, I’ve run through that thought. Every day, fifty times per day. It’s been horrendous. Am I lying to myself in any capacity? Am I living the way my Father wants me to? Am I the husband I should be? Am I the father I can be? What are my real no-kidding motivations? All these and others rattle around in this crow-magnon skull of mine. I think I’m honest with myself each and every day. When I learn something new, I plug it right back in and see if everything I thought still makes sense. Meanwhile, I’ve decided to step up my game. Satan doesn’t want me to be the best officer I can be. He certainly doesn’t want me inspiring others in my command nor my peers. CERTAINLY not my superiors! Which makes me try harder. I’ll be honest, I’m a little vain at times. I’ve mowed the lawn with my shirt off a couple of times. Why? Well, it’s embarrassing to have those love-handles, and I figure, if I continually have to feel self-conscious about them, well maybe I’ll take that extra step I’ve been holding out on.
I’ve seen great strides physically lately. Things I want to maintain and certainly improve on. But what’s odd, is that the spiritual aspects are the hidden gems associated with it. I feel more confident than I was before about my spirit tabernacle. I feel like it’s a gift and I should treat it as such. I’m a little more careful with night-time snacks and goodies. I of course allow myself plenty of goodies, in moderation, and at appropriate times. But nobody slaps my hand when I reach for the ice-cream at nine pm. That’s all inside. That’s my internal desire finally taking over.
Well I tell you all this not to pretend I have all the answers. Certainly not to pretend I’m all that. Not at all. I’m very aware of my personal challenges and issues, and my struggles are certainly not yours. However, I want you to take stock of yourself. Where you’re really headed. Physically AND spiritually. I want you to resolve to be internally motivated. I want you to WANT to be motivated. I want you to come up with an individualized personal plan to make yourself successful in those regards. I am writing this, because if you’re reading it, you’re my friend. I always am wiling to lay my heart bare if it will help out a friend who is in any type of need.
Anyhow, I gotta go. You have a great day and know I’m thinking about you. Talk your left hand into slapping your right hand until you find a system. Then stick with it. It’s taken me so far a life time and I’m not really where I want to be. But you know what they say about the journey of a thousand miles; it begins with a single step.
Seriously, I gotta go. Love ya to pieces and best to you and yours.
Always,
J
Lately, oh say, over the last year or so, I’ve semi-resolved to do a little makeover of my own self on both the inside and the out. My personal challenges on the inside are not necessarily germane to understanding this concept, but instead a necessary part of understanding internal motivations. What I mean is, we all come with a little baggage right? Some of us have mothers that love us and prop us up and tell us we are the entire world, others have mothers that feel their best way to assist you in your personal growth is to tear you down a notch and offer, “constructive criticisms”. I’ll be honest, I’ve never dealt with the former. I’ve always enjoyed a family that consistently buoys up my self-image and beliefs in what’s possible. For others of course, that’s not the case. Additionally, we may come from an abusive home, be it emotional or physical. We may come from a divorced family, we may come from a staunch religious family but be the 11th kid in succession. Whatever. I think it’s just important to take stock in what we’re personally dealing with and be honest about it.
Lately I’ve been attending racquetball with the boys either once or twice a week. In addition I’ve resolved, mostly through my lovely wife’s example to get up each morning (and yes, most Saturdays) and take full and complete advantage of the facilities where I work. I’ve had somewhat of a regimen and it worked up until the point where I hit a plateau and failed to see further progress. Let me back up a little. I joined the military right out of high school. During my time in the Navy I had little or no problems keeping fit. Once I left military service, for about a five year period, I no longer had someone breathing down my neck to ensure I stayed fit. My external motivation never transitioned to internal motivation. Then, about a year before September 11th, I had a feeling. No, the Lord told me that he expected me to again join the military service. This time with the Army National Guard. I of course told the Lord he was somehow mistaken, that I’d already served our nation, and that he must have gotten his wires crossed with someone else. After much argument back and forth betwixt the two of us, He finally convinced me I wasn’t getting out of this one.
Well, I went to meet with a recruiter. Part of the recruitment process is of course a physical evaluation and weigh-in. Well, as embarrassing as this is, I had to meet with him about five times over a ten month period to just make the initial weight requirements to enter service again. I was humiliated. There’s nothing worse than taking your shirt off in some Gold’s Gym and having a tape around your middle that exceeds your personally perceived pant size by 6 or 8 inches. But the Lord kept telling me to move forward, and so, a little at a time I lost a couple of pounds. I’ll be honest, I think I just squeaked by when I went to weigh in to reenlist. I was about 238-240 lb at 5’9” tall. Luckily my fat neck somehow off-set my fatter middle and I made it back in.
Well, from there, I went to Officer Candidate School. I was well liked, and did well academically, but I failed my run to ship to South Dakota to complete my training. I felt like a floating turd I tell ya. I distinctly remember one of the TAC Officers behind me in a HMMWV yelling, “Nobody wants to follow a fat captain!” or something to that regard. Well, that’s external motivation again. Guess what? I failed. It was humiliating. I had to go back to my unit for a year and wait to go back to OCS. I’ll be honest, I’m glad I did. It gave me some time to take stock of my situation and where I wanted to be versus where I was. Additionally I learned some leadership lessons I’m not sure I would have gleaned otherwise.
Well, the next year, at about 215 lb I re-entered the program. I shipped to South Dakota, this time for a fast-track program that lasted about 10 weeks. It’s like fat-camp on steroids. You just plain don’t sleep or get rest and nobody wants to hear your lame excuses as to why you can’t be a leader and a motivator of troops.
I exited OCS at about 172 lb. I had to buy a pair of pants at the local wal-mart and a belt because my clothes I brought no longer fit. I distinctly remember looking at the label over and over and seeing, “32” on it in complete bewilderment. It wasn’t until I got home and everyone kept telling me I looked 18 again that it really sunk in.
Well guess what? External motivation ruled the day. The past few years I’ve worked on my internal motivations and I feel I’m getting better. Every few days I remind myself that nobody wants to follow a fat captain. It’s true you know. Soldiers just think that way. If you can’t take care of yourself, what makes you think you can take care of me? Guess what? They are completely correct. If my Soldiers can’t move forward and are constantly wondering why there are multiple standards for everyone, how can they trust me to lead them? Well here we are, I’ve been commissioned 8 years almost. I’m actually eligible for Major in the spring of this coming year. From a buck-sergeant who started as an E-1, they’re going to make this kid from Riverton, Utah a Major. Here’s the other thing. This past two years I’ve been in command of the State Headquarters unit. EVERYONE is a critic here. You know who they don’t want to follow? A captain, let alone a fat captain. So, again my motivation had to shift from external, further into the realm of internal. Right now, today, I’m riding about 200 lb even. But there’s a difference. I’d say I’ve got 20lb more muscle than when I entered service again 8 years ago. I think ideally at 190 lb I’d be golden. But, I’m fighting ten pounds. Anyone who’s ever tried knows those are the hardest to get rid of too.
So what am I doing? Crash diet? Lypo? Nope. I had to take a cold hard look at what’s holding me back. 52 oz of diet soda twice per day for starters. Argue all you want, but the carbonation coupled with the perceived sugar sensation causes our bodies to get fouled up trying to regulate insulin and other critical levels. What else? Well, my wife as an external motivator, started working out. We’ve had some severe issues as a couple the past couple of years, and I think she finally just decided to finally take care of herself instead of me and my bratty kids. To which I applaud and try to assist in anyway possible. She’s finally internally motivated. So motivated in fact that at her fifth pregnancy I think she’s more healthy and more fit than I’ve ever seen her. Teenage dreams included.
Well, in addition to Stacey’s example, being the unit commander for the State Headquarters, I’ve had some personal challenges of my own to contend with. Some demons if you will. I’ve had to really take stock of who I am as a person versus who I want to become. I had to stop telling myself that this was just the way I am and everyone else needed to get over it. I’m fluffy, but loveable so leave me alone quit working as well. My own internal issues gave me pause to wonder about my self-worth. My standing with my Heavenly Father, my level of involvement in my marriage, and my desire to be the best dad the world has ever known. My challenges, are such that Satan whispers to me that good enough, is…well good enough. I’ve had to fight him off and tell him that my Heavenly Father expects so much more of me and push him out completely. Which, is a real challenge considering what he offers me is sometimes delectably preferable to real-life and its challenges.
So, why am I telling you all this? Well, I think too often I get lambasted with people saying things that to me don’t take into account my own personal struggles. Very very few people know what my family and I have had to deal with the past couple of years. People look at our home, our neighborhood, our beautiful children, my perfect wife, and my new suit and make a whole lot of assumptions about us that just aren’t true. It’s offensive to me at times. Why? We’ve worked for everything we have. Nobody handed it to us. We each got an education. That was tough. We sacrificed for our first home, a two bedroom. We buy and pay cash as we go. I drive a 15 year old pickup. We don’t have cable, and our cell phones are antiques. Why? Because we’re doing the best we can to follow what we know to be right. Well, how does this factor into a discussion on weight issues? Here goes, people seem to assume that we’re the perfect family. That my perfect canning wife, and the perfect military husband just plain do no wrong. Not the case. I’ll tell you what, I’d trade you demons straight across in a heartbeat. Satan has put his angels to work tearing my family apart like I’ve never seen before. It’s become an internal motivator for us too. We’re going to beat him. To me, the fact that he tells me I’m destined to fail, makes me know my Father in Heaven knows so much better. That he would work so hard to tear us down, tells me our family stands at the crossroads at a pivotal time.
OK, so here’s my “advice” for you. You need to quit being externally motivated. Nobody is going to slap cookies out of your hand. Nobody is going to fault you for having a cheeseburger every day at lunch. Oh, by the way, you’re not even a bad person for doing so. That’s not my point. My point is, how much does that slow you down from what you know you can really become? Are you everything you know your Father in Heaven expects? Are your thoughts generally clean? Are your efforts 100%? Or are you living the status-quo life? Hey, I’m not judging anyone BELIEVE me. All I am saying, is have you really taken stock of who you really are, and what He expects you to become? This past year, I’ve run through that thought. Every day, fifty times per day. It’s been horrendous. Am I lying to myself in any capacity? Am I living the way my Father wants me to? Am I the husband I should be? Am I the father I can be? What are my real no-kidding motivations? All these and others rattle around in this crow-magnon skull of mine. I think I’m honest with myself each and every day. When I learn something new, I plug it right back in and see if everything I thought still makes sense. Meanwhile, I’ve decided to step up my game. Satan doesn’t want me to be the best officer I can be. He certainly doesn’t want me inspiring others in my command nor my peers. CERTAINLY not my superiors! Which makes me try harder. I’ll be honest, I’m a little vain at times. I’ve mowed the lawn with my shirt off a couple of times. Why? Well, it’s embarrassing to have those love-handles, and I figure, if I continually have to feel self-conscious about them, well maybe I’ll take that extra step I’ve been holding out on.
I’ve seen great strides physically lately. Things I want to maintain and certainly improve on. But what’s odd, is that the spiritual aspects are the hidden gems associated with it. I feel more confident than I was before about my spirit tabernacle. I feel like it’s a gift and I should treat it as such. I’m a little more careful with night-time snacks and goodies. I of course allow myself plenty of goodies, in moderation, and at appropriate times. But nobody slaps my hand when I reach for the ice-cream at nine pm. That’s all inside. That’s my internal desire finally taking over.
Well I tell you all this not to pretend I have all the answers. Certainly not to pretend I’m all that. Not at all. I’m very aware of my personal challenges and issues, and my struggles are certainly not yours. However, I want you to take stock of yourself. Where you’re really headed. Physically AND spiritually. I want you to resolve to be internally motivated. I want you to WANT to be motivated. I want you to come up with an individualized personal plan to make yourself successful in those regards. I am writing this, because if you’re reading it, you’re my friend. I always am wiling to lay my heart bare if it will help out a friend who is in any type of need.
Anyhow, I gotta go. You have a great day and know I’m thinking about you. Talk your left hand into slapping your right hand until you find a system. Then stick with it. It’s taken me so far a life time and I’m not really where I want to be. But you know what they say about the journey of a thousand miles; it begins with a single step.
Seriously, I gotta go. Love ya to pieces and best to you and yours.
Always,
J
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Saturday is a Special Day...
Here we are guys. Half way through the weekend. What have we accomplished thus far? Me? I've mowed some lawns, I've picked some fruit, I've watched a date-night movie....I even vacuumed Big Green out. Stacey's going to get her nails done as she's got a ladies afternoon planned with the Circle Sisters. Trust me, I foresee this turning into a "Secret Society of Sisters" thing, even though it was just to go watch a movie. I'll never understand that mindset. Women get their feelings hurt because two other women had fun and didnt invite them. Would they also be upset if they DID invite them but they had a sucky time??? Who knows.
So, anyhow this morning I went on a run. Same ol' same ol'. It's one of my standbys. Up from the house to 12600, straight down the new highway to OMG West in Herriman where the Herriman church and a stake center are. Then south to main street and back east to 12600 South and home again. Used to take me about 57 minutes. No clue how far it is. I'd say in excess of five miles, but not much more than six. I'm not going at a high rate of speed. More to collect my thoughts and listen to Beyonce'. There's no cool way for a guy to listen to Beyonce' in the car or at home. It's got to be working out. Guy Code. You wouldnt understand. Anyhow, about the time I turned the corner and went down over the new over-pass on 12600, she was wanting a Soldier. I'd already been her baby boy and I guess it's only fitting. I gotta be honest, something about that delicious chocolate confectionary makes me want to run. Meow meow kitty.
Where were we. So, I have nothing significant to report I guess. We picked some stuff over at the garden last night. I was in charge of dinner so I made some waffles and bacon. You know what else people like? Parfaits! I aint never heard nobody ever say they don't like no parfaits!
Oh, I made some points on that one too. Not the parfait, I totally made that up. The dinner thing. Stacey was out delivering vegetables and I was busy dripping waffle juice all down the side of the cabinet, launching the top of the Pam can across the kitchen, bouncing between The Netflix starting Dora and popping bacon grease into my eye.
So, what else? Hmm well that's about it folks. I planned on fixing the barbequer pressure regulator, and maybe making a trip to Lowe's, but since my beautiful bride is getting her nails done and then off to the movies, it's anyone's guess whether it will be this weekend or next. I just can't fix stuff around the house with a poopy two-year old in tow. It's just not possible for me. I aint wired for it.
OK kids, I gotta go. Standard Rates apply. Void where prohibited by law and all that other jazz.
Word to your Mutha.
Always,
J
So, anyhow this morning I went on a run. Same ol' same ol'. It's one of my standbys. Up from the house to 12600, straight down the new highway to OMG West in Herriman where the Herriman church and a stake center are. Then south to main street and back east to 12600 South and home again. Used to take me about 57 minutes. No clue how far it is. I'd say in excess of five miles, but not much more than six. I'm not going at a high rate of speed. More to collect my thoughts and listen to Beyonce'. There's no cool way for a guy to listen to Beyonce' in the car or at home. It's got to be working out. Guy Code. You wouldnt understand. Anyhow, about the time I turned the corner and went down over the new over-pass on 12600, she was wanting a Soldier. I'd already been her baby boy and I guess it's only fitting. I gotta be honest, something about that delicious chocolate confectionary makes me want to run. Meow meow kitty.
Where were we. So, I have nothing significant to report I guess. We picked some stuff over at the garden last night. I was in charge of dinner so I made some waffles and bacon. You know what else people like? Parfaits! I aint never heard nobody ever say they don't like no parfaits!
Oh, I made some points on that one too. Not the parfait, I totally made that up. The dinner thing. Stacey was out delivering vegetables and I was busy dripping waffle juice all down the side of the cabinet, launching the top of the Pam can across the kitchen, bouncing between The Netflix starting Dora and popping bacon grease into my eye.
So, what else? Hmm well that's about it folks. I planned on fixing the barbequer pressure regulator, and maybe making a trip to Lowe's, but since my beautiful bride is getting her nails done and then off to the movies, it's anyone's guess whether it will be this weekend or next. I just can't fix stuff around the house with a poopy two-year old in tow. It's just not possible for me. I aint wired for it.
OK kids, I gotta go. Standard Rates apply. Void where prohibited by law and all that other jazz.
Word to your Mutha.
Always,
J
Friday, August 19, 2011
Update Meow
*out of breath* OK, hey, sorry I'm late. I know, I know, you've been waiting wondering where my update was. I'm sorry, I've been pretty busy since football started for Josh. Been a whirlwind couple of weeks. Oh hey, hold up, one of my favorite songs is on, "Old Hippie":
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MzdvQOXxRD4&feature=related
"...and they forced him to become a man while he was still a boy, and behind each wave of tragedy, he waited for the joy. Now this world may change around him, but he just can't change no more..." What an awesome song. Seriously. Oh yeah, ask me if I care if you think I'm a dork. I dont. In fact, I'm going to climb into Big Green today and head down and change the oil in her. It's about time I give back. Heck I may even spring for a recharge on her AC. Now that summer is almost over. She needs tie-rod ends replaced. I've sorta limped her along this year. I've been bad I know. I love her so much I should really do a lot better job of taking care of her. Just other things needed more attention than I had to give. Yeah, I'm still talking about a truck, what of it???
Anyhow, so what else? Really things are going pretty smoothly. Went to the lot for a couple of days last weekend and hung the kids' swingset up. My father in law welded it out of a beam and some 2" steel and angle iron. It's pretty stout I tell you. Stacey may or may not load some pictures of it. My dad was helping me and we mounted it using bolts through the 4x4 post. However once we set the concrete on the legs it looks all cock-eyed. No bueno. So, next time I'm up there I'm going to lift the one end and reset it. Not that anyone cares, but there's already enough white-trash stuff going on around us up there so we're trying to class the place up a bit. You know, by adding a lot of mini-mexicans.
What else...yeah, pretty uneventful around these parts. I guess I could tell you I've started winning racquetball games every now and again. I did however get it handed to me last night by the next door neighbor. It's bad too, 'cause he's a sleeper agent apparently. I guess in racquetball you cant judge a player by his tan-line...or...something like that. In fact, good point there, but have you ever noticed, that the best racquetball players have some of the worst fashion sense ever? Sweatbands, wristbands, geekstrap glasses, uni-glove...and missmatched ensembles. In fact, the dorkier the dude looks, the more you should watch out. He's got a lot of built-up Dungeons and Dragons anger that needs to come out. One way or the other.
*sigh*...I guess I better let you go. I just thought I'd just let you know I was thinking about you. Thought maybe you'd wonder what I was up to like I wonder about you guys. OK, I better wrap this up before it gets sappy. I'm shutting down "The" Facebook too today. I can't be caught up in her tangles and webs. I've got a lot going and I better get to it before the sun gets to it's zenith.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KAQVFXb9N8c&feature=related
Till then, listen to the radio. I gotta roll out now. Be good and color inside the lines. See ya round.
Always,
J
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MzdvQOXxRD4&feature=related
"...and they forced him to become a man while he was still a boy, and behind each wave of tragedy, he waited for the joy. Now this world may change around him, but he just can't change no more..." What an awesome song. Seriously. Oh yeah, ask me if I care if you think I'm a dork. I dont. In fact, I'm going to climb into Big Green today and head down and change the oil in her. It's about time I give back. Heck I may even spring for a recharge on her AC. Now that summer is almost over. She needs tie-rod ends replaced. I've sorta limped her along this year. I've been bad I know. I love her so much I should really do a lot better job of taking care of her. Just other things needed more attention than I had to give. Yeah, I'm still talking about a truck, what of it???
Anyhow, so what else? Really things are going pretty smoothly. Went to the lot for a couple of days last weekend and hung the kids' swingset up. My father in law welded it out of a beam and some 2" steel and angle iron. It's pretty stout I tell you. Stacey may or may not load some pictures of it. My dad was helping me and we mounted it using bolts through the 4x4 post. However once we set the concrete on the legs it looks all cock-eyed. No bueno. So, next time I'm up there I'm going to lift the one end and reset it. Not that anyone cares, but there's already enough white-trash stuff going on around us up there so we're trying to class the place up a bit. You know, by adding a lot of mini-mexicans.
What else...yeah, pretty uneventful around these parts. I guess I could tell you I've started winning racquetball games every now and again. I did however get it handed to me last night by the next door neighbor. It's bad too, 'cause he's a sleeper agent apparently. I guess in racquetball you cant judge a player by his tan-line...or...something like that. In fact, good point there, but have you ever noticed, that the best racquetball players have some of the worst fashion sense ever? Sweatbands, wristbands, geekstrap glasses, uni-glove...and missmatched ensembles. In fact, the dorkier the dude looks, the more you should watch out. He's got a lot of built-up Dungeons and Dragons anger that needs to come out. One way or the other.
*sigh*...I guess I better let you go. I just thought I'd just let you know I was thinking about you. Thought maybe you'd wonder what I was up to like I wonder about you guys. OK, I better wrap this up before it gets sappy. I'm shutting down "The" Facebook too today. I can't be caught up in her tangles and webs. I've got a lot going and I better get to it before the sun gets to it's zenith.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KAQVFXb9N8c&feature=related
Till then, listen to the radio. I gotta roll out now. Be good and color inside the lines. See ya round.
Always,
J
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Lots of Love...
Hey guys. I missed you. Welcome back. So this morning it was raining up at our lot. Willy Nelson kept going through my mind. "The last thing I needed first thing this morning, was to have you walk out on me."
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vYpGEAwH1k0
It was the perfect song. Outside the trailer it was drizzling rain and the thunderheads were lazing across the sky from the south. Over the Wildcat the welcome moisture dropped into the red dirt and almost disappeared immediately. I sat under the awning in the folding chair, looking over yesterday's efforts. My dad helped me put up a three place swing set for the kids on their playhouse. It's out of whack and a little out of square and plumb. Kind of like this morning and Willie. Almost right, but not quite. So I sat there and let everyone else sleep in the trailer. Watching the weeds in the road-base of our parking area dance with the breeze from down the canyon below.
I had a great day today. Well the whole weekend was nothing to brag about, and I think that's just what the Dr. ordered. Anyhow, I had some time alone with my thoughts, and before my bacon ends and peices and some Bisquick biscuits I figured I was livin' the life I was made for. We had to jet back for me to make it to teach my Sunbeams this afternoon and I'm so glad I did. For once they seemed subdued. Only one of them sat on my leg and demanded horse rides and the other three at least took turns at the up and down game and demanding to be picked for the song as they'd been reverent the past three seconds. I love those kids. Even Sage. No, especially Sage. Jackson's coming around some. Christian is still a bit quarelsome and Rowan was uncharacteristically talkative.
Anyhow, I will cut this short. Here's another Willie for you to keep the mood. Take care and always the best.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ru40GiejGDg&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vYpGEAwH1k0
It was the perfect song. Outside the trailer it was drizzling rain and the thunderheads were lazing across the sky from the south. Over the Wildcat the welcome moisture dropped into the red dirt and almost disappeared immediately. I sat under the awning in the folding chair, looking over yesterday's efforts. My dad helped me put up a three place swing set for the kids on their playhouse. It's out of whack and a little out of square and plumb. Kind of like this morning and Willie. Almost right, but not quite. So I sat there and let everyone else sleep in the trailer. Watching the weeds in the road-base of our parking area dance with the breeze from down the canyon below.
I had a great day today. Well the whole weekend was nothing to brag about, and I think that's just what the Dr. ordered. Anyhow, I had some time alone with my thoughts, and before my bacon ends and peices and some Bisquick biscuits I figured I was livin' the life I was made for. We had to jet back for me to make it to teach my Sunbeams this afternoon and I'm so glad I did. For once they seemed subdued. Only one of them sat on my leg and demanded horse rides and the other three at least took turns at the up and down game and demanding to be picked for the song as they'd been reverent the past three seconds. I love those kids. Even Sage. No, especially Sage. Jackson's coming around some. Christian is still a bit quarelsome and Rowan was uncharacteristically talkative.
Anyhow, I will cut this short. Here's another Willie for you to keep the mood. Take care and always the best.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ru40GiejGDg&feature=related
Friday, August 5, 2011
Captain Ameri-What???!
OK, Here it is folks. I'm just gonna lay it out for you. So last night we went with the Browns to watch a movie. I dont want you skipping ahead to find out which one, so I'll just tell ya. Captain America. I'm not gonna lie to you either. I thought the previews made it look like a great show. I mean, I loves me some America. I mean, if I could sit down at a cafe somewhere and order me up some Americana, with a side order of ma and apple pie, I'd do it every day (Calories notwithstanding). So, being an Army dude, anything involving America AND the word, "Captain" I figgered was a two-fer. You savvy?
So anyhow, the Browns snagged the tickets online, presumably because there was a high risk that the 9:45 would be completely sold out by the time we got there. Well, just FYI, not everyone has Friday's off, so you can pretty much get any seat in the house on a Thursday night and walk right in. This is in no way a commentary (as yet) on the watchability of the aforementioned movie. Anyhow, where were we? A yes, so after earing 13 Reward Points at the snacky-shak for two refill mugs, a bucket o' "carn" and some nacho's (con jalepenos) we made for the door. We sat down, for some reason Wayne (Brown) (D.D.S.) insists on getting seats at the very back row each time we go. He says it's the best place to watch a movie but I think he wants to laugh at me for being out of breath by the time I reach the top of the stairs ( a heeeee a heeeeee *gasping*).
So, the lights go down (....in the citaaaye and the sun shineeees on ...the baaaay (Journey btw)) and the movie commences. So about the time that El Capitan gets his super powers (i.e. "muscles") I'm starting to see a lot of holes in this flick. First off, what's in the blue Go-Juice that makes him have muscles and jump like spidey man? It somehow changes his, "cells" to allow them to, "grow". But that's about the amount of background you get. I mean, seriously, for Spidey Guy, it's an irradiated spider. For the Hulk, it's gamma/beta waves or something. Captain A? Yeah, blue Koolaide in little test tubes. Also, for some reason they need an entire city grid of electricity to accomplish activation of the blueberry icey juice. So, right there I'm sort of left hanging.
From thence, his gal-pal (Agent Somethingerother) whom is normally hot as that chick in the new Clash of the Titans and also hot in that show where the guy (ironically Spider Man) is the Prince of Persia and he has a dagger which stops time and blah blah blah blah...anyhow, beautiful eyes, but they dressed her up like my great-aunt Barbara in 1941 and sort of ruined it for me. The whole time she kept blinking her eyes and sort of misting up because she love him (with muscles) and she was just too proud to say it. Whatever. Anyhow, so she shows her affections unmercifully by shooting at him when he least expects it. Sort of to keep his skillz honed I imagine.
OK, from there, he gets this lycra/sharksuit made which can stop an, "Advancing German bayonett" and also a tricked out Harley Davidson which can shoot fire out the back and also take jumps at 50 mph and land perfectly. Oh, additionally, he's sheild is made of 100% "Vibrationum" which last I looked at the Periodic Table, dud-n't exist. Anyhow, just so happens that the ENTIRE world supply of Good Vibrationnisms was used to make a rather boring looking shield which it just so happens suits the Cap'n's fancy. Oh it turns out that Vibrato also has magical properties which allow a simple disk to be thrown like a boomarang and return quite magically to his arm.
What else? Oh, and whomever their on-scene WWII Army advisor was? Yeah, so the Colonel, played by Tommy Lee Jones (who is now....93ish ???) sets up his command post about fifty feet from the German occupied territory. So that when Captain America (whom doesnt follow orders very well btw) saves 400 dudes he can just walk up to the gate and flash his credentials (a gay suit with a white star on it and a mask) and they let him walk right in. Unfriggin' believable. Additionally, apparently the Germans had tanks that were about 20' tall and just failed to use them in North Africa or to repel any of our landings in France or anything like that.
Oh, I forgot the best part. So the bad guy, whom looks suspiciously like a cross between Skeletor (from G.I. Joe fame) and a Candy Apple Red 1940's Willy's 4 door...whom apparently is into leather outfits and dressing like Darth Vader gets ahold of this occult cube thing which apparently is a bridge to the cosmos or some other as yet undescribed level of power. I'm telling you, I simply got ZERO background on how this stuff all works. The cube, which glows like the rocks that Harrison Ford saved for the Indian Village, as well as that Crystal Skull thing on that other show, has these magical properties which can make the ultimate D-Cell battery for use in your laser guns. Oh, also these laser guns disintigrate whomever you shoot but are simply powerless against the magical properties of boomarang-vibrationatum (somewhat harder that "Osmium") but only has an atomic number hovering around 13 (aluminum kids, dont bother looking it up, I've done the homework for you).
ANNYYYYhow. I dont want to ruin it for you, I'll let the movie do that. Suffice it to say, it just...left me hanging. No background. No sub-plots, no catharsis, no Pathos, and barely any Ethos to speak of. I think the ONE exception MIGHT have been had we watched it in 3D and dark-eyes girl walks into the bar in a (candy-apple) red dress and scolds the captain (AGAIN) for not keeping his mind on his mission and his mission on his mind. Re-dic-u-lous. Again with Aunt Barbara's hair it's ruined.
So...I guess alls-Ahm sayin' is good luck with all that. OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I almost forgot!!! MY absolute biggest hangup over this whole thing is the way that Captain America does it all on his own. He's the epitome of an Army of One! Yeah, he invites a whole bunch of buddies along to help out, but really, it's just for show. He doesnt need them. He's infallable. Betwixt him and his little .45 caliber 1911 pistol and his Vibratory shield (which apparently DOES accept a subtle non-camo paint scheme) he's got this covered.
So, at the end, not to ruin it, but he wakes up..somwhere (dont read ahead kids!) and his last line is, "I had a date..." And you're like? Huh? What???! Did he just say, "I had a DATE?!" to Samuel L. Jackson?! That's it?! I had a date? Not, "MAN! Has anyone seen Jon's Aunt Barbara? I want to look her up and see if she's still hot at 96 years old. REALLY?! I had a DATE?! Like, that's your setup for a Captain America Dos? Like you believe I'm coming back to see what happens when Agent Doe Eyes hits the 1960s and wears her hair in a beehive?! I'm out! You lost me. Like, the second season of "Lost" I'm out. I just can't handle your ridiculousness in my action movies. Heck, even in Thor, where the guy was obviously running about a 60 I.Q. he at least had the presence of mind to hook up with Natalie Portman! Come on!? Is that the perfect love now? Is that the direction we're headed? We can love each other telepathically but never kiss???!!!!! From six star-clusters away?! Our love will span the reaches of time as long as we dont swap saliva!?! Yer killin' me!
Anyhow, I gotta go. Thanks for letting me rant. You of course know I've got to get some stuff done today. Big day. Picking a peck of pickeling cucumbers at dad's place this afternoon. I'll see you guys around.
I had a date...
Always,
J
So anyhow, the Browns snagged the tickets online, presumably because there was a high risk that the 9:45 would be completely sold out by the time we got there. Well, just FYI, not everyone has Friday's off, so you can pretty much get any seat in the house on a Thursday night and walk right in. This is in no way a commentary (as yet) on the watchability of the aforementioned movie. Anyhow, where were we? A yes, so after earing 13 Reward Points at the snacky-shak for two refill mugs, a bucket o' "carn" and some nacho's (con jalepenos) we made for the door. We sat down, for some reason Wayne (Brown) (D.D.S.) insists on getting seats at the very back row each time we go. He says it's the best place to watch a movie but I think he wants to laugh at me for being out of breath by the time I reach the top of the stairs ( a heeeee a heeeeee *gasping*).
So, the lights go down (....in the citaaaye and the sun shineeees on ...the baaaay (Journey btw)) and the movie commences. So about the time that El Capitan gets his super powers (i.e. "muscles") I'm starting to see a lot of holes in this flick. First off, what's in the blue Go-Juice that makes him have muscles and jump like spidey man? It somehow changes his, "cells" to allow them to, "grow". But that's about the amount of background you get. I mean, seriously, for Spidey Guy, it's an irradiated spider. For the Hulk, it's gamma/beta waves or something. Captain A? Yeah, blue Koolaide in little test tubes. Also, for some reason they need an entire city grid of electricity to accomplish activation of the blueberry icey juice. So, right there I'm sort of left hanging.
From thence, his gal-pal (Agent Somethingerother) whom is normally hot as that chick in the new Clash of the Titans and also hot in that show where the guy (ironically Spider Man) is the Prince of Persia and he has a dagger which stops time and blah blah blah blah...anyhow, beautiful eyes, but they dressed her up like my great-aunt Barbara in 1941 and sort of ruined it for me. The whole time she kept blinking her eyes and sort of misting up because she love him (with muscles) and she was just too proud to say it. Whatever. Anyhow, so she shows her affections unmercifully by shooting at him when he least expects it. Sort of to keep his skillz honed I imagine.
OK, from there, he gets this lycra/sharksuit made which can stop an, "Advancing German bayonett" and also a tricked out Harley Davidson which can shoot fire out the back and also take jumps at 50 mph and land perfectly. Oh, additionally, he's sheild is made of 100% "Vibrationum" which last I looked at the Periodic Table, dud-n't exist. Anyhow, just so happens that the ENTIRE world supply of Good Vibrationnisms was used to make a rather boring looking shield which it just so happens suits the Cap'n's fancy. Oh it turns out that Vibrato also has magical properties which allow a simple disk to be thrown like a boomarang and return quite magically to his arm.
What else? Oh, and whomever their on-scene WWII Army advisor was? Yeah, so the Colonel, played by Tommy Lee Jones (who is now....93ish ???) sets up his command post about fifty feet from the German occupied territory. So that when Captain America (whom doesnt follow orders very well btw) saves 400 dudes he can just walk up to the gate and flash his credentials (a gay suit with a white star on it and a mask) and they let him walk right in. Unfriggin' believable. Additionally, apparently the Germans had tanks that were about 20' tall and just failed to use them in North Africa or to repel any of our landings in France or anything like that.
Oh, I forgot the best part. So the bad guy, whom looks suspiciously like a cross between Skeletor (from G.I. Joe fame) and a Candy Apple Red 1940's Willy's 4 door...whom apparently is into leather outfits and dressing like Darth Vader gets ahold of this occult cube thing which apparently is a bridge to the cosmos or some other as yet undescribed level of power. I'm telling you, I simply got ZERO background on how this stuff all works. The cube, which glows like the rocks that Harrison Ford saved for the Indian Village, as well as that Crystal Skull thing on that other show, has these magical properties which can make the ultimate D-Cell battery for use in your laser guns. Oh, also these laser guns disintigrate whomever you shoot but are simply powerless against the magical properties of boomarang-vibrationatum (somewhat harder that "Osmium") but only has an atomic number hovering around 13 (aluminum kids, dont bother looking it up, I've done the homework for you).
ANNYYYYhow. I dont want to ruin it for you, I'll let the movie do that. Suffice it to say, it just...left me hanging. No background. No sub-plots, no catharsis, no Pathos, and barely any Ethos to speak of. I think the ONE exception MIGHT have been had we watched it in 3D and dark-eyes girl walks into the bar in a (candy-apple) red dress and scolds the captain (AGAIN) for not keeping his mind on his mission and his mission on his mind. Re-dic-u-lous. Again with Aunt Barbara's hair it's ruined.
So...I guess alls-Ahm sayin' is good luck with all that. OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I almost forgot!!! MY absolute biggest hangup over this whole thing is the way that Captain America does it all on his own. He's the epitome of an Army of One! Yeah, he invites a whole bunch of buddies along to help out, but really, it's just for show. He doesnt need them. He's infallable. Betwixt him and his little .45 caliber 1911 pistol and his Vibratory shield (which apparently DOES accept a subtle non-camo paint scheme) he's got this covered.
So, at the end, not to ruin it, but he wakes up..somwhere (dont read ahead kids!) and his last line is, "I had a date..." And you're like? Huh? What???! Did he just say, "I had a DATE?!" to Samuel L. Jackson?! That's it?! I had a date? Not, "MAN! Has anyone seen Jon's Aunt Barbara? I want to look her up and see if she's still hot at 96 years old. REALLY?! I had a DATE?! Like, that's your setup for a Captain America Dos? Like you believe I'm coming back to see what happens when Agent Doe Eyes hits the 1960s and wears her hair in a beehive?! I'm out! You lost me. Like, the second season of "Lost" I'm out. I just can't handle your ridiculousness in my action movies. Heck, even in Thor, where the guy was obviously running about a 60 I.Q. he at least had the presence of mind to hook up with Natalie Portman! Come on!? Is that the perfect love now? Is that the direction we're headed? We can love each other telepathically but never kiss???!!!!! From six star-clusters away?! Our love will span the reaches of time as long as we dont swap saliva!?! Yer killin' me!
Anyhow, I gotta go. Thanks for letting me rant. You of course know I've got to get some stuff done today. Big day. Picking a peck of pickeling cucumbers at dad's place this afternoon. I'll see you guys around.
I had a date...
Always,
J
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Hawaii in the Rear View...
So you may have heard, we just got back from Hawaii on Sunday. We'd been there a week. Well six sleeps and seven wakeups. Trust me the math sorta works out when you figure we left for home on the red-eye and arrived Sunday at seven a.m. Anyhow, we'd had this conference for work which I had been the planner for. 85 folks from the middle and western part of the U.S. (and Guam) decended upon Waikiki Beach for four days of discussions involving Soldier issues. I'd love to bore you to death with the details, but two of you already went to sleep. Oh, I left a day early to ensure the hotel was setup and took a couple days leave on the tail end.
Anyhow, the conference was a modest success and I learned a lot about setting up events from a few thousand miles away. I'm a visual guy so it was difficult for me to have a mental image of the rooms we were going to use for the breakout sessions and....*yahwn*
Anyhow, so I brought Stacey along with. This is pretty rare. Well, actually this is the first time I've ever been able to bring her on a business trip. Most times we've just had a baby, or the kids are in school, or we can't find a sitter, or her mom's sitting on her passport and refuses to give it back....small stuff. Anyhow, I've racked up about 130,000 miles with Delta and 110,000 with United and...anyhow, I had the miles. So I cashed in 65,000 miles and married it up with $7.50 in fees and got Stacey a ticket to ride shotgun in the 767. She hasn't flown anywhere since she last came to visit me in Japan in 1996. So...it's been a while. I like to keep her oppressed so that when I do give her a good deal she really feels like I'm doing her a favor. No, to be honest, our first ten years of marriage we were just trying to get by. I was gone constantly once I joined the military again so there just never was a good time while I was worried about my new career and making a good name. I ain't gonna lie to you. It's been pretty much all about me the last fifteen years. The first step in realizing you have a problem is admitting it. Or...something like that. Anyhow, we REALLY needed some time unmolested just her and me. So, once I figured that the hotel room was paid for, the flight was seven bucks, and I had per diem, out of pocket we couldnt possibly spend more than $700-$1000 and we just couldnt afford to pass this up. Plus we refinanced the house and we're scheduled to miss a payment, and...being a dutiful American, I elected to pump that money right back into the faltering economy. I know, I'm a sacrificer. It's what I do.
Anyhow, so the first day we arrived and occupied the room. Much to my surprise, as one of the perks of being the planner, we'd been upgraded to a "Jr. Suite". Which, really means you get a couch. Everyone had a balcony but our suite was on the nineth floor and overlooked Waikiki Beach up close and personal. Sureal is all I can say. I'm not sure I can spell it, but I can say it. (Does that word look right to you???) Anyhow, we sort of just vegged a while watching the surfers and the people walk by and the sailboats and ...just taking it in. Then we went out and got some dinner at Jimmy Buffet's Cheeseburger in Paradise. Wherein we learned you can get just about any add-on for $3.00. In this case, I got the plastic, "collector's" mug from the restaurant.
The next day I got up and toured the hotel and our breakout rooms and had some meetings and blah blah blah. Took about three hours which I felt horribly guilty about seeing that Stacey was locked in the room without children and that view and only 100 channels on the T.V. Oh, I warned her against room service, not till our 25th anniversary can she do that. ;)
So, that day and the next few days we'd go do things as either a couple or in a group. The first day (of the non-conference) we took the car and went up to the North Shore and visited the LDS Temple grounds. We didnt do a session because, well I asked and she said no. She was bent for election to go to the Polynesian Cultural Center. Which, we arrived at around 330 pm. Oh, I had gotten hungry so we stopped at this little road-side restaurant and had a, "plate lunch" which apparently always consists of meat, rice, and some fruit. I elected for the pulled pork that day, and every day thereafter. So we got to the cultural center and bought two "Ambassador Tickets". That meant you got the guided tour (and backstage passes), a special boat show/ride, the luau, a tram ride (which we didnt take) the show (which was really cool) and the ice cream at the show. Oh, and a DVD to play for your friends presuming you have any when you get home. I really liked the different island experiments and was completely enamored with the chicks that have the white ball on a string and swing it around. From the island of Aorta or something like that. Anyhow, I was deeply impressed that all of the students/dancers really enjoyed their work and seemed genuine with their desire to share their island culture. Oh, important to note, the firedancer guy who was in his mid-forties and was completely rippling with muscles had all the ladies in the crowd sweating profusely not just because of the hot sun, but because of his ability to rip a coconut out of it's husk with nothing more than a sharp stick and his bare hands. Ordinarily I would have gotten up and taught him a lesson, but he seemed to be doing fine enough on his own. Oh, also he said that all the rest of us flabby main-land types could have that same physique if we climbed nine trees a day. He called it...(wait for it) "Tree-Ninety X". Damnit, he was funny too.
The next day Stacey and our mutual friend Camille visited the Princess Castle or some crap like that and she gave me an entire download on the history of Hawaii and how we'd basically stolen it using the U.S. Army to occupy.
The next few days are really a blur, but we went fishing on a boat and Stacey caught a trigger fish, the State Fish of Hawaii, and we also visited a waterfall which frankly was a huge let-down for the hundred dollars it cost me to ride a van to the North Shore and park at a trail head at the golf course. I'd rather have golfed for 65 bucks and forewent the sweating. Oh, also a kid who played for University of Hawaii was our, "Guide" and he wore a sleeveless shirt and climbed every tree (and vine) to show them off to the ladies in the tour. Backing up, come to think of it, nobody at the Polynesian Cultural Center had a shirt on either....and further more...you know what? Never mind. It's too painful, let's move on.
So, anyhow, we're back at home now, and we've had a wonderful time. I've been online searching for a sixty-foot palm try to climb nine times a day. Apparently we're not in the right "Zone" for it to grow so I may have to settle for a light-pole which is just plain out of my price-range.
So, that's it, now you have it....OHHHHH wait. I can't fail to mention snorkeling in Hanauma (spell that?) bay. We spent a couple hours there snorkeling and getting wet in the surf. Stacey, whom is NOT a strong nor willful swimmer was able to get out into the surf and experience it. I think she even got wet behind her ears once. Oh, and the second to last day, I lost my wedding ring in the surf at Waikiki. I tried to get up on the break-water berm and when a big wave came in it pushed me off. In my effort to grab the berm the ring pulled right off. So, sick inside, I went up to the ABC store and purchased some goggles. I went right back out into the surf and for twenty minutes scoured the bottom about where I lost it. I couldnt see it, so I got up on the berm. I put my goggles up on my head to see more clearly and a wave came in and pushed me off. Ahem...and stole my goggles. I never saw them again either. They were about nine dollars and I figured I used them for about nine minutes. So it's still a much better return on investment than a 976 number. Those of you that get that joke should be disgusted with yourselves.
Anyhow, today is Tuesday and I took off to be home. I just couldnt focus at work yesterday and figured with drill this weekened I was only kidding myself that today would be in the least bit different.
I better run. You kids be good and keep your eye out on a little gold circle washing up on the beach if you head to Waikiki anytime soon.
All the best,
J
Anyhow, the conference was a modest success and I learned a lot about setting up events from a few thousand miles away. I'm a visual guy so it was difficult for me to have a mental image of the rooms we were going to use for the breakout sessions and....*yahwn*
Anyhow, so I brought Stacey along with. This is pretty rare. Well, actually this is the first time I've ever been able to bring her on a business trip. Most times we've just had a baby, or the kids are in school, or we can't find a sitter, or her mom's sitting on her passport and refuses to give it back....small stuff. Anyhow, I've racked up about 130,000 miles with Delta and 110,000 with United and...anyhow, I had the miles. So I cashed in 65,000 miles and married it up with $7.50 in fees and got Stacey a ticket to ride shotgun in the 767. She hasn't flown anywhere since she last came to visit me in Japan in 1996. So...it's been a while. I like to keep her oppressed so that when I do give her a good deal she really feels like I'm doing her a favor. No, to be honest, our first ten years of marriage we were just trying to get by. I was gone constantly once I joined the military again so there just never was a good time while I was worried about my new career and making a good name. I ain't gonna lie to you. It's been pretty much all about me the last fifteen years. The first step in realizing you have a problem is admitting it. Or...something like that. Anyhow, we REALLY needed some time unmolested just her and me. So, once I figured that the hotel room was paid for, the flight was seven bucks, and I had per diem, out of pocket we couldnt possibly spend more than $700-$1000 and we just couldnt afford to pass this up. Plus we refinanced the house and we're scheduled to miss a payment, and...being a dutiful American, I elected to pump that money right back into the faltering economy. I know, I'm a sacrificer. It's what I do.
Anyhow, so the first day we arrived and occupied the room. Much to my surprise, as one of the perks of being the planner, we'd been upgraded to a "Jr. Suite". Which, really means you get a couch. Everyone had a balcony but our suite was on the nineth floor and overlooked Waikiki Beach up close and personal. Sureal is all I can say. I'm not sure I can spell it, but I can say it. (Does that word look right to you???) Anyhow, we sort of just vegged a while watching the surfers and the people walk by and the sailboats and ...just taking it in. Then we went out and got some dinner at Jimmy Buffet's Cheeseburger in Paradise. Wherein we learned you can get just about any add-on for $3.00. In this case, I got the plastic, "collector's" mug from the restaurant.
The next day I got up and toured the hotel and our breakout rooms and had some meetings and blah blah blah. Took about three hours which I felt horribly guilty about seeing that Stacey was locked in the room without children and that view and only 100 channels on the T.V. Oh, I warned her against room service, not till our 25th anniversary can she do that. ;)
So, that day and the next few days we'd go do things as either a couple or in a group. The first day (of the non-conference) we took the car and went up to the North Shore and visited the LDS Temple grounds. We didnt do a session because, well I asked and she said no. She was bent for election to go to the Polynesian Cultural Center. Which, we arrived at around 330 pm. Oh, I had gotten hungry so we stopped at this little road-side restaurant and had a, "plate lunch" which apparently always consists of meat, rice, and some fruit. I elected for the pulled pork that day, and every day thereafter. So we got to the cultural center and bought two "Ambassador Tickets". That meant you got the guided tour (and backstage passes), a special boat show/ride, the luau, a tram ride (which we didnt take) the show (which was really cool) and the ice cream at the show. Oh, and a DVD to play for your friends presuming you have any when you get home. I really liked the different island experiments and was completely enamored with the chicks that have the white ball on a string and swing it around. From the island of Aorta or something like that. Anyhow, I was deeply impressed that all of the students/dancers really enjoyed their work and seemed genuine with their desire to share their island culture. Oh, important to note, the firedancer guy who was in his mid-forties and was completely rippling with muscles had all the ladies in the crowd sweating profusely not just because of the hot sun, but because of his ability to rip a coconut out of it's husk with nothing more than a sharp stick and his bare hands. Ordinarily I would have gotten up and taught him a lesson, but he seemed to be doing fine enough on his own. Oh, also he said that all the rest of us flabby main-land types could have that same physique if we climbed nine trees a day. He called it...(wait for it) "Tree-Ninety X". Damnit, he was funny too.
The next day Stacey and our mutual friend Camille visited the Princess Castle or some crap like that and she gave me an entire download on the history of Hawaii and how we'd basically stolen it using the U.S. Army to occupy.
The next few days are really a blur, but we went fishing on a boat and Stacey caught a trigger fish, the State Fish of Hawaii, and we also visited a waterfall which frankly was a huge let-down for the hundred dollars it cost me to ride a van to the North Shore and park at a trail head at the golf course. I'd rather have golfed for 65 bucks and forewent the sweating. Oh, also a kid who played for University of Hawaii was our, "Guide" and he wore a sleeveless shirt and climbed every tree (and vine) to show them off to the ladies in the tour. Backing up, come to think of it, nobody at the Polynesian Cultural Center had a shirt on either....and further more...you know what? Never mind. It's too painful, let's move on.
So, anyhow, we're back at home now, and we've had a wonderful time. I've been online searching for a sixty-foot palm try to climb nine times a day. Apparently we're not in the right "Zone" for it to grow so I may have to settle for a light-pole which is just plain out of my price-range.
So, that's it, now you have it....OHHHHH wait. I can't fail to mention snorkeling in Hanauma (spell that?) bay. We spent a couple hours there snorkeling and getting wet in the surf. Stacey, whom is NOT a strong nor willful swimmer was able to get out into the surf and experience it. I think she even got wet behind her ears once. Oh, and the second to last day, I lost my wedding ring in the surf at Waikiki. I tried to get up on the break-water berm and when a big wave came in it pushed me off. In my effort to grab the berm the ring pulled right off. So, sick inside, I went up to the ABC store and purchased some goggles. I went right back out into the surf and for twenty minutes scoured the bottom about where I lost it. I couldnt see it, so I got up on the berm. I put my goggles up on my head to see more clearly and a wave came in and pushed me off. Ahem...and stole my goggles. I never saw them again either. They were about nine dollars and I figured I used them for about nine minutes. So it's still a much better return on investment than a 976 number. Those of you that get that joke should be disgusted with yourselves.
Anyhow, today is Tuesday and I took off to be home. I just couldnt focus at work yesterday and figured with drill this weekened I was only kidding myself that today would be in the least bit different.
I better run. You kids be good and keep your eye out on a little gold circle washing up on the beach if you head to Waikiki anytime soon.
All the best,
J
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