Saturday, December 31, 2005

HCJDDI?.....How Could Johnny Damon Do It?

To ring in the new year, I have to comment on the continuing drama that is the Yankees vs. the Red Sox. I have to admit to being at least a little annoyed at Mr. Johnny Damon for loosing the beard so easily and sliding over to the "dark side" just so he can make a few extra bucks. But thinking about it, I honestly can't to come up with a reason why he shouldn't. I mean, in reality, he's just an employee looking to make the most money he can under the best conditions. When I grow up, I too hope to switch jobs as often as a better one comes around. Though I don't know why anyone would WANT to play in New York under that magnifying glass, I'm not convinced we should begrudge the guy a few extra bucks and a haircut if that's what he wants.

So given this, can anyone make me a good argument why ballplayers should owe any sort of loyalty to their fans?

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Our New Aesthetic

Ok folks, I thought our "scroll" format was seeming a little dated so I secretly usurped my executive powers and changed existing law to suit my own whims and fancies. I, however, didn't want to try to hide it from the public, so I'm confessing directly. (ok, so the parallel isn't quite exact...what do you want??)

Here's the deal with this. I want to change some things to make this here blog a little more snappy. A few things I'd like to add are a "most recent comments" section on the side bar and a fluid set of T&S-like links to flashy news articles and websites (also on the side bar). The hitch is that, while fairly tech-savy, I have the attention span of a hamster so I can't sit down and mess with all that code crap to figure this out all by myslef. I thought maybe some of you either know how and we can get together and mess with it, or you have a longer attention span than me and lots of free time to figure it out.

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Sunday, December 18, 2005

"PLEASE BLESS THIS FOOD": The Missionary-Fettucine Scandal

"Please bless this food" is perhaps the most-used phrase in all of Mormondom. Mormons have a lot of opportunities to publicly pray, and we like to make sure that those public gatherings involve food. As a result, "please bless this food" is almost a knee-jerk, Pavlovian phrase, often said without much meaning, like the "please bless this food that it will make us healthy" before you eat the double mint fudge oreo ice cream for Family Home Evening dessert. It's such a safe phrase, and usually not that necessary.

Or so the missionary thought, as he prayed over his dinner at our home last evening... little did he know just how necessary that prayer would be.

[FLASHBACK TO 30 MINUTES BEFORE THE MISSIONARIES ARRIVED]

We were trying to put dinner together in a hurry. Chicken alfredo over fettucine. I whipped up the alfredo sauce and the fettucine was boiling on the stove. I was hurriedly trying to clean the kitchen at the same time, so I had just finished cleaning out the sink with lemon scented 409 cleaner.

As the noodles finished boiling, I took them over to the sink to drain. The steam burned my hand, and in a moment of indiscretion, all of the noodles spilled into the sink... and then slipped from the sink right into the garbage disposal. That garbage disposal, it turns out, has a significant capacity to retain noodles.

I was very, very upset. I yelled, and nearly cursed, and yelled to Catherine "THE NOODLES FELL INTO THE SINK, INTO THE GARBAGE DISPOSAL!!! OH NO!!!" We didn't have any other fettucine noodles. We had some spaghetti noodles; but alfredo over spaghetti noodles? Blasphemy. Besides, it was now about 5 minutes before the missionaries were supposed to arrive. But we had no choice.

I don't exactly know what I was thinking. I just reacted. I reached my hands into the garbage disposal and fished out the noodles, gobs and gobs of them. Enough for about 4 servings. And I dumped them back into the pot. I burned my hands. Then I realized I needed the pot to cook the spaghetti noodles, so I grabbed a big glass bowl and dumped the noodles in the bowl. Later that night, I would learn from Catherine that that particular type of "glass bowl" is in fact a "serving bowl"... [insert ominous music here]

Then I put the spaghetti noodles on the oven to cook, and the missionaries knocked on the door. We were very far behind in dinner preparation. No appetizers. Somehow, I managed to throw away the rolls my wife had cooked, in my frantic effort to... I dont know, clean the kitchen? I grabbed some frozen brocolli and dumped it into a pot to steam, and the missionaries sat down to eat.

It took about 15 more minutes for the spaghetti noodles to finish, and everyone was anxious to eat. Catherine came into the kitchen and grabbed the bowl of fettucine. I went wide-eyed as she said, "can I put these on the table for the missionaries?" "Sure... if you WANT to..." I responded. I was totally confused. STUNNED. Was she REALLY going to feed those garbage disposal noodles to the missionaries??? I didn't know what to think. But I trusted her judgment. I thought, "well, I just must be taking this 'noodles-in-the-garbage-disposal' thing too seriously!!"... I watched in half-shock as she let the missionaries scoop the noodles onto their plates... and then scoop the alfredo sauce onto their noodles. As I watched them do so, I thought, "I don't care if Catherine thinks it's okay, I am definitely NOT going to eat those noodles. I'll eat the spaghetti noodles. This is CRAZY." But I didnt say anything.

I think I was in shock.

And then the noodles came around to Catherine, and she loaded them onto her plate. I felt guilty; she would sacrifice herself, and eat the noodles, and here I sat, willing only to eat the clean spaghetti noodles? What kind of husband was I? In a moment of guilt and introspection, I ladled some fettucine onto my plate.

The new Elder offered the prayer. I almost laughed (or gagged?) when he said, "Please bless this food that it may make us healthy and please bless the hands that prepared it..."

After the prayer, the missionaries and Catherine started eating. I couldn't chew the noodles. I just swallowed. All of them. I advised the missionaries to put as much salt and pepper on the noodles as possible... you know, to offset any offensive flavors. Like the flavor of lemon-scented 409. Which they may have mistook for "lemon pepper".

The missionaries had second helpings. I waited for all of the fettucine to be gone before I ventured to eat some of the spaghetti noodles.

And they left.

And as soon as the door closed, I turned to Catherine and said, "I CANT BELIEVE YOU LET THEM EAT THE NOODLES THAT WENT INTO THE GARBAGE DISPOSAL!"

In less than a second, I realized that I had made a terrible, terrible mistake. Catherine's mouth fell open and a look of PURE HORROR passed over her face as she yelled, "WHAT?!!!! THEY WERE IN A SERVING BOWL!!! WHAT DO YOU MEAN THOSE WERE IN THE GARBAGE DISPOSAL?!?!?! WHY WERE THEY IN A SERVING BOWL?! I THOUGHT THOSE NOODLES WERE OKAY?!!!! WHY DID YOU PUT THEM INTO A NICE SERVING BOWL?!"

Who knew there was a difference between "bowl" and "serving bowl"?

[For those of you who ever planned on having dinner at our home, we understand. WE don't even want to have dinner at our home anymore.]



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Tuesday, December 13, 2005

Happiness

I've been thinking a lot about Happiness. I know we've all heard the quote from Joseph Smith that happiness is the object and design of our existence. I'm pretty sure he meant that for everyone, even poor law school students and their families.

It's FINALs time and everyone is stressed, so that always helps, but there always seems to be this attitude of being happy LATER. I'll be so happy when finals are over, or I'll be so happy when I go home to my parent's house, etc.... Granted these are trivial things, but what happens when we say, " I'll be happy when we're done with law school." " I'll be happy when we finally have a house of our own." etc.... Don't get me wrong- these are fabulous, righteous desires. But at the same time, do we miss opportunities to be really happy, right now?

To add to that, is Happiness more than just a lack of envy? Or a lack of "want"? I want a new car, but does that mean I can't be truly happy now? One of my roommates from college just finished building a house and they are expecting a baby. I am excited for them, but also think that it will be years, maybe even a decade before my situation will be the same as theirs. I know we shouldn't compare ourselves to others, but we always do!

Anyway- I do want to be truly happy now. I dont' want to wait and be happy later. Any thoughts?

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Sunday, December 04, 2005

Bouncy Balls...

This is the coolest thing ever. And yes, they're real. (If you don't believe me...which no one does...watch these)

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