A Few of my Favorite Things.

What is greater than a genuine smile? Ones that manage to make it to our faces despite the mine field events of the day that normaly tear to shreds any good mood? Sometimes we need to shepherd those little smiles along to safety.

In light of previous posts that tended to indulge my negative side, I made a list of the things in life that make me smile. The following I wrote in one sitting, and were I to take more time I'm sure the list would more than double in size.

1. Licking the mixing bowl.
2. Werthers Candies, just like grandpa used to share.
3. Paper chains made of construction paper.
4. Warm towels and clothing fresh from the dryer.
5. Singing along with family and friends while watching The Sound of Music. 
6. A clean apartment
7. Movie popcorn.
8. Feeding bread to ducks. 
9. Hot McDonald's french fries. 
10. A cold winter night, warm blanket, and The Godfather in the DVD player.
11. Flirting.
12. The smell of rain.
13. Chewing on ice from a fountain drink. 
14. Watching Old faithful erupt. No matter how many times I witness it, it never fails to thrill!
15. Kite-flying.
16. Listening to an old audio tape from the past.
17. Singing a favorite hymn in sacrament meeting.
18. Holding hands wondering what's going to happen next. 
19. The Lonely Island.
20. Old outhouses on back roads.
21. Jelly Belly Jellybeans -- I love taking a Peanut butter and a grape bean, eating them together and making a PB&J.
22. Reading a great book the same time as a friend.
23. Honey roasted chicken from that deli downtown. If the City of Enoch returned today and had a picnic, this is the fired chicken that they'd serve.
24. Homemade roasted pumpkin seeds.
25. Pushing a child in a swing. The look of joy in their faces remind me how great life can be.
26. Road trips with my best friend.
27. Talking about comic books, Star Wars, Star Trek, Lost, or Lord of the Rings with someone I didn't know was a fellow geek.
28. Frosting and cream fillings. 
29. Watching iCarley with my nieces while tending them.
30. Netflix.
31. Running into someone who speaks the language I learned on my mission.
32. Candles. My straight best friend tells me if he ever doubts I'm gay he looks around my apartment and sees all the candles I have everywhere.
33. Mom's potato salad. 
34. Skipping through commercials on my DVR.
35. A fresh notebook, legal pad, or sketch book. I'm always thrilled by the possibility of the blank page.
36. Actually I love office supplies of all kinds -- pens, markers, paperclips. In grade school my closest companion was my Trapper Keeper.
37. Rainbow sprinkles on soft-serve.
38. Finding something you've really wanted cheap at a yard sale or thrift store that you no longer can find for any price retail.
39. Making balloon animals for my nieces and nephews.
40. Listening to my mom try to tell a joke, only to get it all wrong. 
41. Gathering on General Conference Sunday to watch the final session together as a family. 
42. Prank videos on You Tube.
43. Getting my feet rubbed. 
44. Getting a nice new haircut.
45. Homemade root beer. 
46. Little House on the Prairie reruns. This is possibly the gayest thing on here, but I had a crush on the Albert character when I was a kid, and I've loved the show ever since.
47. Finding a long lost friend on Facebook.
48. New Shoes. 
49. A day at Lagoon with friends. 
50. Making a great meal in a Crock Pot or Foreman Grill. 
51. The stark white of a winter morning. 
52. Dutch oven cooking.
53. Listening to a child pray or bear testimony.
54. Listening to a child curse not knowing what they've said.
55. MTV's Silent Library.
56. Dancing in my underwear.
57. Air conditioning.
58. The feel of old books.
59. Long hot baths.
60. Seinfeld reruns.
61. Fast-food made the way I ordered it.
62. Cold ice cream over warm brownies. 
63. Goosing someone or being goosed.
64. Payday. 
65. A hearty laugh.
66. Being able to sleep in an extra couple of hours.
67. Watching Bob Ross paint. (Happy trees! Happy clouds!)
68. A good fight on The Real Housewives.
69. My Dwight Schrute bobble-head. 
70. Getting Final Jeopardy correct, especially when the three contestants get it wrong. 
71. Reaching the top of the mountain and seeing the view was worth the climb. 

I hope everyone will consider taking the time to compile their own lists. Life is way too hard to live on frowns.

That Day I Became a New Yorker.

I love New York City.


My sister worked in Washington D.C. for a time, and on one of my visits we got a rental car and drove up through New Jersey for a quick visit. I'd been places before -- overseas, and other large cities, but nothing had prepared me for the size and scale of the Big Apple.

My first glimpse came from a hazy distance. Shrouded in gray, two great landmarks book-ended the city: The Empire State Building on the left at one end, and The World Trade Center to the right. Coming out of the Lincoln Tunnel I was stunned. Having grown up in a town of less than a thousand people, it was hard for me fathom the scope of my surroundings.

Did man have the power to build such a place?

It was a whirlwind of a day. We gave a shout out home on the Today Show, saw a Broadway show, and ran the Island from one end to the other. We soaked in everything we could  within the short time we had to visit. Yet, it was from that first hazy morning view that the City had me. She won me over. That day I became a New Yorker.

So when the Towers fell, I too felt the ground rumble...

Watching the people flee, I too felt terror...

And as the dust cloud overtook them, I too felt choked by ash and smoke.


Nine years later, I take a moment to remember. May God grant peace to all who continue to suffer effects of that dark day, and may the memory of those who were lost remain bright in the hearts of those who loved them.


Amen.

Time to Lighten Up!

So far my attitude on this blog has been kind of negative.

Reading back over the handfull of posts I've written so far, I'm struck with how dark they are. With nothing else to go on you might expect me to be some pissed off guy, struggling to break free of the black hole his life has become. Yes, that might be me on some days, but I don't think generally its a true reflection.

Honestly, I'm much more fun in person than the way I come off on this blog.

This has become a great place for me to just vent, something I'm not used to doing. I'm usually the one to take the role of diplomat among my family and friends. People are always looking  for a sympathetic ear to bend, yet seldom do I ever disclose any of what I have brewing under the surface. Maybe that's why I'm enjoying writing this blog. Regardless of if anyone ever reads this, it still feels good to let go of all my deep, hidden pockets of negativity. Sometimes you just gotta spew what's making you sick inside. It sure ain't pretty, but you're guaranteed to feel better after.

So, if I seem to be an angsty buzz-kill here, its mostly an illusion. I should post a disclosure at the top of the blog -- something like the one found on the outside side-view mirror of a car: "Caution: objects in this blog appear to be more miserable than they really are."

From here on out I promise to try not just constantly dump all my emotional crap. I want this to be a place of light and love as well.

On a personal note I emitted my rare gay clap and squeal when I saw I had gathered followers. The comments and emails have been enormously encouraging and supportive. Thank you all, and I hope to get to know everyone better soon!

Fathers and Sons.

I lost my dad two years ago yesterday.

Honestly, I didn't remember until my sister called to ask if I wanted to join her, my mom, and the other siblings who could make it, at the cemetery. They brought flowers, the grandchildren brought envelopes with pictures and letters, and I brought a 20 ounce caffeine free Diet Coke -- his beverage of choice. I opened it and "poured a forty" to his memory "gansta" style. That seemed to lighten what was a solemn mood, and soon we were laughing about the times he wasn't busy being a hard-ass.

It seems impossible its been two years.


My mother called me that morning in a panic. It was around 6 AM. She had just found her husband half out of bed, bleeding from the nose, and mumbling. She was terrified, and could only think to call me. I told her to go back to dad's side, and be ready to let in the paramedics. I called 911, and then rushed over to assess the scene. Even with prompt medical care he didn't last long. A massive stroke took him without warning -- shocking because I had just had dinner with him the evening before. He was in good spirits, despite a headache he mentioned in passing.

I'm grateful he and I were at least on speaking terms. We had a complicated relationship for a long time (to say the least), and had just begun to defrost the chill that had developed between us. He never knew about my my sexual identity troubles, but he easily found other reasons to be disappointed in me. I made great efforts to keep my life out of his line of sight, but he knew something was amiss. For my part, I held deep seated resentment toward him over issues from childhood. My other brothers and sisters eventually found ways to forgive him his mistakes. I was the lone holdout with problems letting go.

Things were far from healed berween us two years ago when he passed, but it comforts me to know we were making efforts. We shared his last meal together, and had a great time watching one of his favorite Bond films. When I left he actually hugged me and told me to drive carefully.


I don't believe we said I love you to each other that last visit, but I do remember feeling love for him, and from him.

I think... I hope he felt the same.

Post Traumatic Church Disorder.

I didn't go to Church today.

I don't have much of an excuse. I have a job that often precludes the ability to attend, but I was free today. Not that anyone would notice my absence. I'm a little paranoid, but I feel like the bishop sometimes makes a conscious effort to avoid me. Nevertheless, I should have gone to Church, but just thinking about walking into that chapel made me shudder.

Maybe I'm still gun-shy from the last time I went to Church -- about 3 weeks ago. It was midway through the second consecutive sacrament talk about the blessings of the Temple and families. I was on a side bench, without a family to sit with, and I started to hyperventilate. My own reaction surprised me. I'm usually thick skinned, and let little things run off me like water off a duck's back, but that day somehow the weakness in my armor was exposed. I'm sure the speaker meant no offense, but her comments struck a cord. I felt very much alone, surrounded by others who were obviously more worthy to have the blessings of children and a spouse.

Silently I kept asking do these people know how lucky they are?

Do they know what I would give to have what they have?

Listening to the self-satisfied tone of the talk I noticed my anger start to rise, and my face redden. There was something about the speaker's delivery that made me feel excluded; a stranger in my Church Home. I couldn't have felt anymore out of place if I had been wearing a Santa suit to Church in August.

I had to get out. There were thirty minutes to go before the closing hymn, but I couldn't sit another moment longer. Walking up the isle I had to resist the urge to speed walk to the exit in a panic, and in my car I had to sit for a minute while my heart rate normalized before I could drive away.

Then once alone in my apartment the questioning hit like a storm: am I doomed to an existence alone, unloved, and unremembered? How many more years of this can I take? I thought I'd wept all the tears I have on the subject. Why am I now suddenly so pathetic?

I'm just not ready to go back. I guess that's why I stayed home today.

There are Sundays when Church is just too painful to attend.

Obsessive Thought of the Day.

Someone told me today that fingernails grow nearly 4 times faster than toenails.

This has got me wondering two things...  

1. Why did this person hand me this little nugget of knowledge in the first place?
2. Why would fingernails be so over active compared to their stubby counterparts?

Its like a splinter in my head! I can't stop wondering about why that might be true. Is it because the longer the finger the faster it grows? Maybe it's because fingers get sunlight. or have better circulation? 

Perhaps, but I have a different theory... 

Maybe fingernails are just snotty, showboating bastards. They must feel so smug compared to their stubby counterparts. They get decked out in their fancy Lee Press On Nails, and then soaked in Palmolive while the toes are tucked away in an old tube sock, without so much so much as an Odor Eater.

Wake up toes! I know you can catch up!

Okay... now that I have that off my chest I can sleep.

Stephen Hawking and God -- A Mormon Perspective.

There isn't a bigger name in science than Sir Issac Newton. His law of universal gravitation and three laws of motion laid the groundwork for modern science as we know it, but few know how religious he was. He wrote more extensively about theology than he did about the mechanics of science. Because of  Professor Newton, whenever the worlds of science and faith clash I try to remember one does not necessarily have to choose one over the other. Reason must be the foundation of any honest pursuit of truth.

So when I see banner headlines like Steven Hawking Says God Not Needed for Creation, I perk up a little bit.  Here we go again! Another spitball fight between the religious and secular. Defenses will go up, voices will be raised, making it all the more difficult to suss out anything either side has to say. Issac Newton would not be pleased.

I shouldn't even attempt to offer my opinion on the subject. This stuff is over my head, but let me give it a try. Don't worry -- my spitball shooter is put safely away.

In his new book, The Grand Design, Steven Hawking rejects Newton's theory that God must have been central to creation because our world couldn't have come out of chaos simply through nature. He writes that as long as the Laws of Physics are a constant, no Higher Being would be necessary to push the button on creating the universe. He states:

"Because there is a law such as gravity, the Universe can and will create itself from nothing. Spontaneous creation is the reason there is something rather than nothing, why the Universe exists, why we exist. It is not necessary to invoke God to light the blue touch paper and set the Universe going."

Translation: "In your face Issac Newton! Go find a tree to sit under and let a few apples hit your noggin while you have a think about that!"

As a Latter-day Saint I don't find myself terribly uncomfortable with Professor Hawking's new assertions. We believe that God is not above the Law nor is He beneath it. He is, however, subject to it. As with matter, it might be said He is co-eternal with it. The law of gravity could be among the many laws that have always existed, and exist independently from God. None of this displaces God as Creator. He is still the Lord and Creator over our existence, regardless of whether He Himself lit the fuse that kicked things off. The words of Hymn 284 seem to speak to Hawking's challenge, asking:

"Do you think that you could ever, Through all eternity, 

Find out the generation Where Gods began to be? 

Or see the grand beginning, Where space did not extend?

Or view the last creation, Where Gods and matter end?"

Consider that our concluding hymn. I'd better stop before we go into really deep waters. I never intended this blog to be the source for many doctrinal discussions, but whatever is on my mind is fair game.

Now I'd better "hie" my ass out of here... I'm running a little late.