Nerd

I think this is the coolest way one could ever possibly use an iPad.

Rejection

My latest little phrase that I've started using is, "No, I reject that." If I hear something I don't like or don't approve of, I simply say, "Nope. I reject that." For example: "There are people in the world who think voting for Newt Gingrich is a good idea? I reject that." or "It was five below with icy roads and a dude in a jacked-up truck went flying past your minivan full of children at seventy miles an hour? I reject that." And so on.

So you want to know what I'm rejecting right now? (Of course you do.) Using the excuse of "I'm too busy" in order to not do something. I reject that. Outright. Lately, it has seemed that a lot of people Suzy and I know, mostly from church, have been "too busy" for things - helping with callings, social get-togethers, returning calls/emails/Facebook messages, etc. "I'm just so busy" they say, their eyes bulging as if to indicate that the sheer velocity of their lives is about to make their craniums implode. They offer some lame, limp apology and say the magic words (SOOOO BUSY!) and, in their minds, that is sufficient explanation for whatever blow-off or cop-out they're most recently guilty of.

Well, as mentioned above, I reject that.

Here's why: it is my personal belief that there is no such thing as too busy. I don't think a state of "too busy" really happens - unless you're the President or an Army general in a time of war or something like that. I don't think average, work-a-day folk really are too busy at all.

Keep in mind, I count myself as one of the aforementioned folk, and, yes, I am a busy guy. I posted the other day about how I'm always worrying about school, work, my daughters, my wife, stuff at church, etc. Busy? You bet. Too busy? No.

I believe we make time for the things that matter to us. Period.

I'm plenty busy - there are a dozen things I could be doing right now, but I'm blogging. Why? Because it's important to me. It's something I want to do and, therefore, I make the time to do it. I choose one thing over another thing because one thing is more important to me than another.

People who are too busy to call back, too busy to help out, whatever - I cry bullcrap. It is not that you are too busy - it is that calling back or sticking around to help isn't as important to you as some other thing you have chosen to do.

So I guess what I'd like is an end of the feel-bad-for-me-because-I-can't-do-X-because-I'm-so-busy schtick. Let's have some honesty, shall we? I mean, we all think of ourselves as honest people, don't we? So let's just say what we mean.

"Yeah, I saw your Facebook message but I don't really want to help with that service project so I ignored it and hoped it would go away."

"I saw you called but I knew you wanted me to help out with my daughter at Activity Days and since the main reason I take her there is to get away from her for an hour a week, I didn't call you back."

"I feel I'm too important to involve myself in your life."

"I don't like you enough for that."

"I'm comfortable the way I am and don't want to be made uncomfortable."

"I was trapped under a large piece of furniture and nearly died."

Things like that, you know?

Writing this, I realize it probably comes across as angry and uncharitable. Meh. Honestly, while I'm sure there are times when people are busy and can't do whatever, I think those times are a lot fewer and far between than they'd like you to think.

I think I'm just bothered because of an overall feeling of lack here. No one gives. No one goes out of their way. It just seems like so many people from this town and our church just really do the bare freaking minimum in terms of giving of themselves. They take-take-take and barely toss a thank you over their shoulder on their way out the door. I'm just kind of tired of it. Three years and no real friends to show for it for us or the girls makes Illinois seem a lot more like a corn-covered wasteland than a rich, happy place.

(And yes, I am aware of the "Maybe it's just you" and "You should just grow where you're planted" ways of thinking. I reject them.)

I worry a little about putting all this into words. Saying something aloud has a way of making it more real, more powerful. I worry that by saying aloud, "I am unhappy with this place," I will become more unhappy, you know? But after a long, kind of useless day at church, I just felt the need to say it, you know? For better or for worse.

Maryn (and some fat jokes about her dad)

Though she didn't draw this, it sums up daughter #1 perfectly. We're talking about a girl who sleeps in fleece pajamas, a sweater, four blankets, socks, and a freaking hat - and is still cold. We need to start sneaking WeightGain 4000 into her meals. The poor, little scrap just doesn't have enough meat on her bones to stay warm. I, on the other hand, could probably power this house if we could find some way to channel fat guy night sweat into pure energy. You get enough tubby 38 year olds and the right technology and our reliance on foreign oil is over, baby.

Brain Fail

My brain is failing. I feel as though I have almost no capacity to retain information any more. Suzy will tell me to take out the trash or remind me the girls get out of school early or ask me to grab a can of diced tomatoes from the basement -- and I'll forget. I'll go into the kitchen and make myself a snack, never noticing the garbage can is overflowing and stinky. I'll come home from work, find the girls at home, and say, "What the heck are you doing here?" I'll go down the basement and stare at the shelves and think, say what now?

So yeah, you can make all the age jokes you want (I'm looking at you, Dan) but the fact is, my brain can only handle so much these days. It's full of student names, assignment revisions, committee work, abstract film theory, worries about my daughters, worries about the economy, sadness about my parents, anxiety about my dissertation, and tons and tons of useless entertainment industry information. (There's always room for that. Did you hear Demi Moore is being treated for "exhaustion?" I'm exhausted all the time, but, like most normal human beings, I don't have to go to the hospital for it.) With that soup swimming in my head, things like "What do I need to do during my office hour today?" elude me completely.

So I have a little notebook in my nightstand drawer, another in my school bag, and a stack of Post-its on my desk in my office, and I avail myself of them often. I make a to-do list once a day, usually at night, right before bed. In the morning, usually in the shower, I think of another half-dozen things I need to do and so add them to the list. (Perhaps this is TMI, but I always have my best ideas and remember things the most in the shower. Or on the lawnmower. Seriously. Those two activities enable my brain to relax and function better than almost any other thing.)

So then, armed with my list in my shirt pocket or the same pants pocket as my phone (so as to not forget about the list's existence), I head to work where I take it out and rest it right in front of my face near the keyboard of my computer. That way, I can't space out and let all those tasks drift off into the ether while I read Entertainment Weekly online. (Tracy Morgan fainted at the Sundance Film Festival this week. Once again, exhaustion. Exhaustion and high altitude. I guess anything is possible, right?) Obviously, I start with the thing that absolutely has to be done first due to a deadline, but, if there isn't something absolutely pressing, I pick a few things that I can get done right away - some quick emails that need to be sent, a phone call that needs to be made, paperwork I can just fill out and be done with, etc. That way, I get to scratch several things off the list immediately and I feel like I'm getting something done. I get great satisfaction from scratching items off the list.

Usually, by the end of my office hour or the end of the day, my list has an item or two left on it. I write them on a new Post-it and throw away the old one. I go home, put the new list on my nightstand, and wait for it all to start again.

I'm sure there was a time when I could remember things on my own without having to map out every little task - or maybe there wasn't. Maybe I was just younger and more irresponsible and, therefore, didn't care if I was forgetting stuff. Maybe what seems like sudden forgetfulness in your 30s is actually just a new sense of wanting to be a grown up and not neglect stuff any more. Then again, maybe my brain really is just turning to a nice rice pudding consistency. Not sure.

38

Yep. 38. Officially late 30s now. Sigh.

Of course, I share a few famous birthdays -- Muhammed Ali, Ben Franklin, James Earl Jones, Jim Carey, etc. but I thought I'd share a few lesser known 1/17 events:

38 BC – Octavian divorces his wife Scribonia and marries Livia Drusilla, ending the fragile peace between the Second Triumvirate and Sextus Pompey.

1773 – Captain James Cook and his crew become the first Europeans to sail below the Antarctic Circle.

1917 – The United States pays Denmark $25 million for the Virgin Islands.

1929 – Popeye the Sailor Man, a cartoon character created by Elzie Segar, first appears in the Thimble Theatre comic strip.

1950 – The Great Brinks Robbery – 11 thieves steal more than $2 million from an armored car Company's offices in Boston, Massachusetts.

1966 – A B-52 bomber collides with a KC-135 Stratotanker over Spain, dropping three 70-kiloton nuclear bombs near the town of Palomares and another one into the sea in the Palomares incident.

1983 – The tallest department store in the world, Hudson's flagship store in downtown Detroit, closes due to high cost of operating.

1996 – The Czech Republic applies for membership of the European Union.

2001 – U.S. President Bill Clinton posthumously promotes Meriwether Lewis from Lieutenant to Captain.

An auspicious day for sure.

A Selfish Post More About Me Than About My Mom

So the 14th was the one-year anniversary of my mother passing away. I wanted to post something about her the day before. And the day of. The day after too.

But it kept not happening.

It's not like I didn't have the time or opportunity. I just found that I couldn't really say or write anything about her. It was driving Suzanne a little crazy because I wouldn't talk about Mom or her passing or what I was feeling about any of it. I felt paralyzed.

That feeling passed somewhat, obviously, but I'm still not 100% with this whole thing. Part of the problem with me talking is that I'm in a pretty negative place when I think about Mom's death and that feels pretty ungracious and ungrateful. When she passed away, even though it was sad, we were all grateful that she didn't have to suffer any more and that she could be with Dad again. She didn't have to go through further indignity related to her decline. The feelings I felt were nowhere near the same as what I experienced when Dad died.

But this week, for whatever reason, I've felt a lot of anger and confusion about her passing. It seems lame and unjust -- that she had to get cancer in the first place and then deteriorate physically and mentally, that she had to fade away in the manner that she did, that she had to leave us without her comfort and guidance and friendship. It sucks.

So this is confusing because why would I feel that after all this time? Why would I be any less okay with it now than I was twelve months ago?

And, what's more, I should be thinking of all the things that she was and did. I should be focusing on the blessing of her life, not the curse of her departure. Right? So what do you do when you can't really feel that but instead just keep thinking, "I'm an orphan." Then what?

I don't know what the answer is. I just know that I'm sad she's gone and that I miss her and Dad in my life and the life of my family.

I still have the last email she sent me in my inbox. This is something for me because I delete almost everything from my email. Unless I absolutely need it, it's gone. But I've hung onto this funny thing she forwarded me. It doesn't even have a message from her - it's pictures of a garbage truck that some artist converted into a high-tech RV. It's random but fascinating. It's the sort of thing that she knew I would think was interesting so she sent it along to me. It's the last in a long line of General Authority quotes, ebay finds, quick questions about the day or my girls or whatever, and little notes of encouragement that she would send regularly. Some of the stuff she sent made me roll my eyes, but I wish I were still getting those random little messages like I used to.

If grief were a person, I'd slap it across the face and tell it to move the freak on. It's been a year, grief. You have more than worn out your welcome. I thought you were gone and yet here I find you living in my basement, waiting to come up and celebrate January with us. Bite me, grief. I'm sick of you.

Would You Like Some Birkenstocks With That Granola?

How much of a wussy folkie am I? I like this:



Recognize it?

Jerkfaces

The thing the people in the previous post had in common (except for Park-Fu) is that they are all famous for being professional jerkfaces - losing their temper, saying terrible things, behaving in ways we wouldn't accept from a fourth grader, much less a grown adult. As for "why," what I meant was, why do we make these people famous? Why do we tune in to watch them be awful? In what world should we care about how some woman yells at 8 year olds about how they dance? (And yes, the woman is from that show Dance Moms.)

I watched a few episodes of Hell's Kitchen one season and, of course, like all Americans, I've done my time with American Idol. So I guess, in a weak sort of way, I've supported these people and this phenomenon. But no more. This is another item to add to my philosophy about reality TV. No more supporting terrible people. Of course, on team shows like Top Chef or Project Runway there will be awful people in with the rest - but I'm not watching any show that showcases and rewards the worst social impulses in human behavior. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Greetings Earthlings

This is what Parker does when I point the camera at her and insist that she "show me your face!" It's kind of hilarious, I think.

On another topic, here's a quiz:

Other than being reality tv personalities, what do all these people have in common?



Part 2 of the quiz is: Why?

Two Kinds of People

Dr. Leo Marvin: Are you married?

Bob Wiley: I'm divorced.

Dr. Leo Marvin: Would you like to talk about that?

Bob Wiley: There are two types of people in this world: Those who like Neil Diamond, and those who don't. My ex-wife loves him.

I never really liked the movie What About Bob? but I always thought that line was pretty funny. I find it absurd and kind of hilarious to break the world down into two kinds of people.

I was thinking about it the other night while driving home. Suzy's trusty Chapstick was in the little compartment between the cup holders as it always is, and it occurred to me that I really don't like Chapstick or lip balm of any sort. They feel waxy and gross, and I don't enjoy being covered in that any more than I would like being coated in a thin layer royal frosting. It just feels weird. Suzy, on the other hand, utterly relies on it. She has a Chapstick or Carmex in every room of the house and both cars.

So, it occurred to me that there are two types of people in this world: Those who like Chapstick, and those who don't.

There are also those who like the windows down and those who don't.

Those who believe in dipping their fries in the Frosty at Wendy's and those who don't.

Those who can agree that monster trucks are kind of stupid and those who cannot.

Those who devour the crawdads, head and all, and those who will not.

Those who think updating their Facebook status multiple times a day is awesome and those who do not.

Those who still use the expression "Oh snap!" and those who do not.

Those who wore overalls in the late 80s/early 90s and those who gratefully did not.

Those who eat to live and those who live to eat.

Those whose middle name is Danger and those whose is not. (Is that right?)

Those who can agree that Disneyland really is the happiest place on earth and those who cannot.

Those who do that voodoo so well and those who do not.

Feel free to add your own.

2012

2011 kind of sucked. Really, it was a year full of sadness, frustration, disappointment, and bad times. It wasn't ALL bad, of course. There are many happy moments and successes I can think of. But, on the whole, the year tasted like a moldy lame-strami sandwich deep-fried in hot garbage oil and dipped in stupid sauce. Okay, maybe I'm being a little dramatic but not by much. I'm glad 2011 is over and can only hope that 2012 brings better things.

Having said all that, I still need to make my Best Of list for the year. Best Of lists are kind of a crazy thing that seem to have become a cultural force in the world. If you look at Entertainment Weekly this week, it's nothing but Best of Books, TV, Movies, etc. Like we all need to be told what to see, read, listen to, etc. Mine isn't some comprehensive list of things you must go out and buy right now! It's just a few things that I really enjoyed this year - whether they actually came out this year or not.

Books


The Lonely Polygamist by Brady Udall and Death of a Disco Dancer by David Clark. TLP is a sprawling novel that tells the tale of Golden Richards, a polygamist with more wives and children and worries than he knows how to handle. After a certain point, I wanted Golden to liven up a little and stop being such a wuss. He's immobilized by uncertainty for 95% of the book and nobody likes a protagonist who doesn't do anything. However, the other characters in the book are so compelling and interesting and funny, Golden can be overlooked. Rusty, the angry, angsty son of wife #2, is far and away the funniest, sweetest, and saddest part of the book. He alone was worth the price of admission.



DoaDD is a Mormon novel (by/for/about mainstream Mormons whereas TLP is by an ethnic Mormon about a splinter offshoot of Mormonism) published by Zarahemla Books. It follows 11 year-old Todd Whitman as he comes of age in Mesa, Arizona in the early 1980s. The book deals with the loss of two different loved ones - one to dementia and one to cancer - so in that sense, it hit close to home. But it's more funny and sweet than sad, and I appreciated that. The worrying about girls and your hair while tormenting your younger siblings was perfect. The dorky friends, the harmless-yet-dangerous ways of having fun as a Deacon - it was all very familiar. The book seems to work a little too hard to evoke the 80s at times by dumping reference after reference at you sometimes, and the climax isn't the big bang you hope for. But it's still fun to read and uplifting in its way. Worth taking a look for sure.

Music
Imelda May's retro-rockabilly vibe made me happy this year as did the 1963 classic A Christmas Gift for You from Phil Spector. I'm not normally into Christmas music but I could listen to Darlene Love, The Ronettes, and the Crystals all season long and then some. Also, I discovered and enjoyed Colin Hay's acoustic solo career this year and loved his version of "Overkill." Also, I have listened to "I Can't Remember" by The Thorns over and over this year. I'm a Matthew Sweet fan from way back and have appreciated his different efforts over the years. Back in 2002, he teamed with Shawn Mullins (that guy who sang "Lullabye" in 1998) and indie musician Pete Droge. They did one album, one tour, and, to my knowledge, had one single - "I Can't Remember." I found it on itunes a few months ago and haven't stopped listening to it since. The three-part harmonies are beautiful and the song is kind of sad. What more can you ask from three minutes and thirty one seconds?



Movies
Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol is pretty awesome. Brad Bird has directed three of the greatest animated movies ever made - The Iron Giant, The Incredibles, and Ratatouie - and with MI:GP, he stepped into live action. The set pieces were spectacular in the most literal sense, the banter was witty, and there was a prison-break scene set to Dean Martin's "Ain't That a Kick in the Head." Again, what more can we ask?
The final Harry Potter was equally exciting and moving. We've been watching these characters for a decade now. How can I not care about what happens to them? David Yates, the director of the final four HP films did some really impressive things visually, thematically, and dramatically. He's a talented guy who came basically out of nowhere to bring cohesion and emotion to what could have been just a giant special effects pageant.

Comics
Nothing has really thrilled me this year. There were a few things I enjoyed - a sci-fi time travel miniseries with teriffic art called The Red Wing, the anthology miniseries Rocketeer Adventures, and, of course, the Atomic Robo trade paperback called Two-Fisted Robot Tales. But overall, it was a quiet year for me comic book-wise. The movies Thor and Captain America were more enjoyable than most actual comics. Maybe 2012 will bring something worth getting excited about.



Personal
Our vacation to Grand Haven, Michigan was a real highlight. Just spending time on the water, enjoying perfect weather, going letterboxing, going for walks, etc. It was utterly idyllic and I loved it.
Visiting my brothers at the beginning of December. It was a quick visit and all-too-short but wonderful. We sat around, made jokes, watched episode after episode of Prison Break, ate chocodiles, and just had a blast. I loved it.
Being with my family. The older I get, the more I enjoy just doing small stuff with Suzy and the girls. They are my favorite people.

I have some goals and hopes for this new year, but I'm going to keep them to myself for now. I've found that talking about my goals somehow saps my power/desire to meet them. Kills some of the magic, you know?

Anyway, I hope the coming year is a good one for you, full of the things you need to be happy and healthy. I will see you back here a little more regularly this year than last, I hope.