Chalupa! Chalupa! The chant that began with almost 2 minutes to go and the Blazers sitting at 98 points and the fans hungry for the 100 points needed to get a free Taco Bell treat. Chalupa! Chalupa! For god's sake, there is only 30 seconds to go and you have missed four tries against the frickin' Sacramento Kings (that may have been inappropriate considering we were part of the BYU alumni / Jimmer fan contingent)! But, come on, we are talking 16,000 chalupas on the line and you guys can't manage a lay-up in trash time? Free! We know most of you are making enough money to buy a Taco Bell restaurant (is there a word that is like restaurant but would describe a drive-thru with a plastic seating?) every quarter, but all of us above the 20th row rarely pass up free food - what do you think attracts us to Las Vegas and cruise ships - it isn't the magic shows..... The ten year olds that topped out at 4'6" in pre-game entertainment competition made these shots. The losers who raced to dress up in throwback short shorts during a TV timeout eventually made a free throw and they were about as well guarded as you guys. Wahoo! the coach sends in an eager bench warmer to send us home with a win and visions of mass manufactured Mexican sounding fare dancing in our lower bowels. Bonus time! we all get a free short stack and 2 for 1 breakfasts at the International Opposite of Portion Control!
I am so glad the NBA season was saved and Jimmer got to come to Portland where the LDS Ensign singers performed beautifully and that spaz of a coach for Sacramento barely played Jimmer and he still was their second highest scorer.
Monday, January 23, 2012
Sunday, January 22, 2012
I shall not complain....
Today was our stake conference and a change in the presidency after 10 years. The new president is our neighbor, Steve Doty. All work and leadership in our church is done by the members - there are no paid clergy. We all get callings (assignments) that change usually after a year or two. Steve Doty was a councilor to the bishop, the bishop, and councilor to the stake president over the last 15 years. All of these are demanding and time consuming positions. He will now extend his commitment in a big way by being stake president for the customary 8 - 10 years!
I have been teaching 14 and 15 year olds in Sunday school for like five years. In conference today, Steve said he kind of feels like he is in the movie Groundhog Day. He just has to keep doing it until he gets it right! I feel like we (Karen has been teaching with me for two years) are in the same movie. We really like the kids and have a great time, but preparing a lesson that will engage them week in and week out is a challenge.
However, I have no way to whine now with Steve's new calling - he leads and is responsible for 6 wards and probably 2000 people. It was not like I had a right before, but forget about it now. I am never complaining about a calling again. I will accept a new calliing, if and when I get one, and in the meantime, will enjoy the comfort of only having to prepare a weekly lesson and teach 17 kids for an hour. I am livin' large!
I have been teaching 14 and 15 year olds in Sunday school for like five years. In conference today, Steve said he kind of feels like he is in the movie Groundhog Day. He just has to keep doing it until he gets it right! I feel like we (Karen has been teaching with me for two years) are in the same movie. We really like the kids and have a great time, but preparing a lesson that will engage them week in and week out is a challenge.
However, I have no way to whine now with Steve's new calling - he leads and is responsible for 6 wards and probably 2000 people. It was not like I had a right before, but forget about it now. I am never complaining about a calling again. I will accept a new calliing, if and when I get one, and in the meantime, will enjoy the comfort of only having to prepare a weekly lesson and teach 17 kids for an hour. I am livin' large!
Saturday, January 21, 2012
MARIS THE CAT
I am allergic to cats. I have never been real fond of cats. We did have a cat when I was a junior in Pocatello, Idaho; I don't remember its name nor its fate. We had a Siamese cat when I was in Hermiston; she was smart and OK as cats go except that she killed our pet squirrel, TS Nuts. And as a final introduction to the subject, I had been known to go full Rambo (sometimes clad only in underwear or PJs) with oranges and other projectiles on cats who dared come into our yard.
Because of our large yard, we are often at the plant nursery and at one such nursery a decade ago we played with a batch of kittens that had barely began their lives of investigation away from their mom. One of the kittens, a little calico, was a free spirit - she did her thing and did not follow the crowd. I could not stop thinking about that kitten and a few days later I stopped by the nursery on my way home from work and brought Maris home. Karen and the girls were perplexed. Roger Maris is my favorite baseball player and the only player to legitimately hold the season home run record; Maris was the best cat ever and the only cat to legitimately hold the top cat spot in my heart.
Maris loved us, LOVED TO PLAY, loved to be where ever we were, and never quit being different. Maris was really a little boy stuck in a cat's body, except that she did eat vegetables - especially red bell peppers. I am pretty sure she often said, "Hey, what are you doin,' can I do it too, hunh, please, hunh?"
Maris was fond of lemon yogurt, my favorite flavor too. I wish Maris was still around to enjoy a cup of yogurt together and yak about ball. She could really chase a well-rolled ball (or nickel coin, she just loved the game).
We have and have had a string of cats, all named after baseball players. Rog (the feminine of Roger) came along about a year after Maris and is a very good pal. Satch (short for Satchel) is mellow, a bit of a whiner, and a good companion, but we found him in our yard as a very little kitten who was probably thrown there and he has not ever put those issues behind him. Yogi wandered in when Karen's dad lived with us, but was not with us long. Buddy from next door adopted us and rarely went home (who would have - our neighbors are another story). Black kitty was a wild neighborhood cat who often slept in our carport or under the sequoia. Then finally there is Paige (Satchel Paige would have been one of the most renown baseball players of all time had he not spent most of his looong career in the Negro Leagues).
Paige is no Maris. In all fairness, Paige was a young teen mother who delivered a litter in a hollowed tree in our yard. Her boys were Jackie and Frank (the Robinsons of baseball lore) who went to live with friends in the Gorge. Paige has had a long transition to being part of the family from the outdoors of her youth and is really a pretty good kid, all things considered. But she has a will, a strong will that got her banned from the vet for some time. The first attempt at a capture and vet trip to be be spayed literally cost me a pound of flesh and considerable damage to our bedroom, where the final battle of the wills took place. I warned the vet in no uncertain terms that she could not be released from her carrier prior to sedation - they thought they knew better and payed a considerable price for their professional arrogance. We administered a potion in her food the next time she had to go - a trick she fell for only once. There has only been one, count it, one time when I was able to grab her by the nape and put her in a carrier like a cat.
Over the last few months Karen has agonized over the delay in Paige's overdue shots and planned how each Saturday was going to be THE day she goes. This morning Karen was able to grab her, but it was in a torso hold which works up to the point that Paige realizes the intended destination and then it becomes a very dangerous hold. As I pulled out the new cat carrier Paige took Karen down, I had no choice but to attempt the same torso hold as I took her from Karen and put her in the carrier - Paige took me down as well. Paige will not be going to the vet today and we need a new tube of neosporin.
I really miss Maris.
Because of our large yard, we are often at the plant nursery and at one such nursery a decade ago we played with a batch of kittens that had barely began their lives of investigation away from their mom. One of the kittens, a little calico, was a free spirit - she did her thing and did not follow the crowd. I could not stop thinking about that kitten and a few days later I stopped by the nursery on my way home from work and brought Maris home. Karen and the girls were perplexed. Roger Maris is my favorite baseball player and the only player to legitimately hold the season home run record; Maris was the best cat ever and the only cat to legitimately hold the top cat spot in my heart.
Maris loved us, LOVED TO PLAY, loved to be where ever we were, and never quit being different. Maris was really a little boy stuck in a cat's body, except that she did eat vegetables - especially red bell peppers. I am pretty sure she often said, "Hey, what are you doin,' can I do it too, hunh, please, hunh?"
Maris was fond of lemon yogurt, my favorite flavor too. I wish Maris was still around to enjoy a cup of yogurt together and yak about ball. She could really chase a well-rolled ball (or nickel coin, she just loved the game).
We have and have had a string of cats, all named after baseball players. Rog (the feminine of Roger) came along about a year after Maris and is a very good pal. Satch (short for Satchel) is mellow, a bit of a whiner, and a good companion, but we found him in our yard as a very little kitten who was probably thrown there and he has not ever put those issues behind him. Yogi wandered in when Karen's dad lived with us, but was not with us long. Buddy from next door adopted us and rarely went home (who would have - our neighbors are another story). Black kitty was a wild neighborhood cat who often slept in our carport or under the sequoia. Then finally there is Paige (Satchel Paige would have been one of the most renown baseball players of all time had he not spent most of his looong career in the Negro Leagues).
Paige is no Maris. In all fairness, Paige was a young teen mother who delivered a litter in a hollowed tree in our yard. Her boys were Jackie and Frank (the Robinsons of baseball lore) who went to live with friends in the Gorge. Paige has had a long transition to being part of the family from the outdoors of her youth and is really a pretty good kid, all things considered. But she has a will, a strong will that got her banned from the vet for some time. The first attempt at a capture and vet trip to be be spayed literally cost me a pound of flesh and considerable damage to our bedroom, where the final battle of the wills took place. I warned the vet in no uncertain terms that she could not be released from her carrier prior to sedation - they thought they knew better and payed a considerable price for their professional arrogance. We administered a potion in her food the next time she had to go - a trick she fell for only once. There has only been one, count it, one time when I was able to grab her by the nape and put her in a carrier like a cat.
Over the last few months Karen has agonized over the delay in Paige's overdue shots and planned how each Saturday was going to be THE day she goes. This morning Karen was able to grab her, but it was in a torso hold which works up to the point that Paige realizes the intended destination and then it becomes a very dangerous hold. As I pulled out the new cat carrier Paige took Karen down, I had no choice but to attempt the same torso hold as I took her from Karen and put her in the carrier - Paige took me down as well. Paige will not be going to the vet today and we need a new tube of neosporin.
Friday, January 20, 2012
Newt Get a Moral Compass
What can I say, this guy has the scruples of a NY pimp. It is all about him and not about what he can really do for anyone else. He will never be good for anyone or our country. Ron Paul is a character, but he has character. Newt, please, we all do things we regret, we all hope for forgiveness, but when you have gone that far off the track, you don't get to be President, period.
I was really glad it was Friday today so I could go on a date with my wife to the Tigard / Tualatin basketball game and forget about the world for a few hours. I am very worried what my grandkids will be left with and sad that they may not have the promise I grew up with to enjoy.
Hey, but tomorrow is Saturday and I look forward to a wonderful day and all the hope that things can change!
I was really glad it was Friday today so I could go on a date with my wife to the Tigard / Tualatin basketball game and forget about the world for a few hours. I am very worried what my grandkids will be left with and sad that they may not have the promise I grew up with to enjoy.
Hey, but tomorrow is Saturday and I look forward to a wonderful day and all the hope that things can change!
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Government Service
I have spent almost half my work life in the public sector now - geez, 19 years! I must admit that I have been guilty of government bashing and even making the random sweeping statement. But, I have always done everything I can do as if I was on the other side of the counter or phone as a government worker.
Any big organization has its share of slackers and waste, but those types within government are by definition, more public. Alas, when you work in government you realize that it is easy to be a target and every day services are often taken for granted, but today my job was the perfect example of my quote, "No one wants government until they want it and then they want a lot of it, right now."
Today we had a lot of rain and were inundated with requests to "do something!" No problem, I will get the thousands of government minions under my control who have been just hanging about to get right on that...I used to have a staff of nearly 70 now I have 19. It is now my turn to ask the question I have heard daily for nearly three years - don't you know there is a recession?
I can't speak for every government agency at local, state, and federal levels, but yah, I know all too well what it is like to let 75% of staff go; people with families and mortgages. My staff has been overworked and under-appreciated by the public for three years, yet each time I ask those who remain to do more with less time, resources, and thanks, because we are proud of what we can get done, they come through.
Next time you bash government, make sure it is specific and founded in fact. If you identify a slacker and call them out, well good on you. In return for not painting us all with the same brush, those of us who work hard every day will continue to do more and over deliver those truly public services. What I hope none of us moves any further towards is the reliance and expectations of a government cum nanny state. There must needs be a balance between shared public responsibilities and individual responsibilities.
Any big organization has its share of slackers and waste, but those types within government are by definition, more public. Alas, when you work in government you realize that it is easy to be a target and every day services are often taken for granted, but today my job was the perfect example of my quote, "No one wants government until they want it and then they want a lot of it, right now."
Today we had a lot of rain and were inundated with requests to "do something!" No problem, I will get the thousands of government minions under my control who have been just hanging about to get right on that...I used to have a staff of nearly 70 now I have 19. It is now my turn to ask the question I have heard daily for nearly three years - don't you know there is a recession?
I can't speak for every government agency at local, state, and federal levels, but yah, I know all too well what it is like to let 75% of staff go; people with families and mortgages. My staff has been overworked and under-appreciated by the public for three years, yet each time I ask those who remain to do more with less time, resources, and thanks, because we are proud of what we can get done, they come through.
Next time you bash government, make sure it is specific and founded in fact. If you identify a slacker and call them out, well good on you. In return for not painting us all with the same brush, those of us who work hard every day will continue to do more and over deliver those truly public services. What I hope none of us moves any further towards is the reliance and expectations of a government cum nanny state. There must needs be a balance between shared public responsibilities and individual responsibilities.
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
NICKNAMES
In my family there have always been nicknames. My Dad was "Rock" when he was younger and it was on his letterman's jacket. Now I know how he got this, he has forearms like Popeye's (I would have liked to have picked those from the gene pool); broad shoulders (got those, thanks); all packaged in a 5'8" frame (out of respect Dad, I'm still going with that declared stat, but does anyone else actually buy it? and I am so grateful to have neared the 6' mark), and, by all accounts I have heard, he was West Bountiful's James Dean before there was a James Dean.
So apparently he wanted to grace me and my brothers with our own monikers, but they were so numerous and random that they never really stuck and I can only remember two right this minute, both anointed on Jon, Wax and Tomato, hence why my mind has blocked them as a survival response. You really can't claim a lot of street cred with Wax. My Dad is a fairly creative, out-of-the-box thinker (a trait I am proud to have inherited), but failed him in the nickname realm.
Jeff got a sketchy nickname courtesy of Bud, but Shitty parlayed the derisive slam into a humorous and street-worthy moniker. Along the way I got names like JT (for Jim time - a rude comment on my punctuality), AJ Snake (my original attempts at backing a trailer took circuitous paths), and finally Bean (that is a longer story). Shitty and I still use these nicknames talking to each other - we are just programmed to enjoy nicknames.
Megan and Katie have been victimized. Their original shared name was shrimps (we played shark and shrimps in the pool when we first met) and later it morphed to the squirrels. The ones that stuck are MG and KT, but I still can't resist an occasional "Dork" which is my universal term of endearment (and has been telegraphed across a gym or football field with a giant D created with both arms).
I could not resist carrying on the family tradition. Camryn was originally "Dingleberry," but with it's farm yard connotation was not a favorite and in retrospect is worse than Wax. Her current one is Spunky Winkerbean or Spunky. Tamsin is my Zippy. I am fairly confident they will always be my Spunky and Zippy and I will be their PopPop (I swear this was Camryn's first words while we waited in a corner of Crate and Barrel when she 6 months old). Zippy is also carrying on the tradition, anointing Karen with Maaga - not sure if it will stick nor if Karen has warmed up to it.
Coming full circle, I greet my Dad with the old standby of Pops most of the time. For years and still occasionally, I call him Suede. I returned the favor of a nickname based on his life long avocation as a salesman and his penchant for all things entrepreneurial - it is still my favorite term of endearment.
And I always call Karen Honey because she is mine.
So apparently he wanted to grace me and my brothers with our own monikers, but they were so numerous and random that they never really stuck and I can only remember two right this minute, both anointed on Jon, Wax and Tomato, hence why my mind has blocked them as a survival response. You really can't claim a lot of street cred with Wax. My Dad is a fairly creative, out-of-the-box thinker (a trait I am proud to have inherited), but failed him in the nickname realm.
Jeff got a sketchy nickname courtesy of Bud, but Shitty parlayed the derisive slam into a humorous and street-worthy moniker. Along the way I got names like JT (for Jim time - a rude comment on my punctuality), AJ Snake (my original attempts at backing a trailer took circuitous paths), and finally Bean (that is a longer story). Shitty and I still use these nicknames talking to each other - we are just programmed to enjoy nicknames.
Megan and Katie have been victimized. Their original shared name was shrimps (we played shark and shrimps in the pool when we first met) and later it morphed to the squirrels. The ones that stuck are MG and KT, but I still can't resist an occasional "Dork" which is my universal term of endearment (and has been telegraphed across a gym or football field with a giant D created with both arms).
I could not resist carrying on the family tradition. Camryn was originally "Dingleberry," but with it's farm yard connotation was not a favorite and in retrospect is worse than Wax. Her current one is Spunky Winkerbean or Spunky. Tamsin is my Zippy. I am fairly confident they will always be my Spunky and Zippy and I will be their PopPop (I swear this was Camryn's first words while we waited in a corner of Crate and Barrel when she 6 months old). Zippy is also carrying on the tradition, anointing Karen with Maaga - not sure if it will stick nor if Karen has warmed up to it.
Coming full circle, I greet my Dad with the old standby of Pops most of the time. For years and still occasionally, I call him Suede. I returned the favor of a nickname based on his life long avocation as a salesman and his penchant for all things entrepreneurial - it is still my favorite term of endearment.
And I always call Karen Honey because she is mine.
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Storm Team 12! Oh My!
First off, please notice that our first post has a new picture as my choice was vetoed. In my defense we do not take many pictures of both of us. The new photo is from our late November ride on the Polar Express.
And with that segue, to the subject of this post - winter weather. For those of you who live, or have lived, where it really snows as a usual occurrence, you really need to view a TV clip from a Portland station. You would think that we were going to get several feet and become stranded when a few flakes fall. The local Fox station titles their coverage Storm Team 12 and they post a reporter on the overpass at about a 1000 ft. elevation and report on the individual flakes they see - sending the city into pandemonium.
The schools are closed. The tire stores are inundated with folks buying chains and studded tires prior to rushing the grocery for stores of survival provisions. That part is just goofy, but the roads are just plain frustrating. We get snow just about every year, yet it is as if every driver just came to the mainland from some tropical locale and are seeing and driving in the white stuff for the first time. They slip, slide, crash, and just go nuts! They drive like it is opposite day - slam on the brakes, turn away from the slide, and all while they move at 5 mph.
I now use the term "Storm Team 12" to describe any hype perpetrated for effect. You see it on the news, you see it in advertising (especially for legal ads), and we all have friends or co-workers who have gone beyond exaggeration.
We are under a snow alert tonight that started earlier today with predictions of a foot of snow and when we wake up in the morning it will probably be a dusting, yet we will have to get on the road before the "islanders" ruin the commute. Wish us well.
And with that segue, to the subject of this post - winter weather. For those of you who live, or have lived, where it really snows as a usual occurrence, you really need to view a TV clip from a Portland station. You would think that we were going to get several feet and become stranded when a few flakes fall. The local Fox station titles their coverage Storm Team 12 and they post a reporter on the overpass at about a 1000 ft. elevation and report on the individual flakes they see - sending the city into pandemonium.
The schools are closed. The tire stores are inundated with folks buying chains and studded tires prior to rushing the grocery for stores of survival provisions. That part is just goofy, but the roads are just plain frustrating. We get snow just about every year, yet it is as if every driver just came to the mainland from some tropical locale and are seeing and driving in the white stuff for the first time. They slip, slide, crash, and just go nuts! They drive like it is opposite day - slam on the brakes, turn away from the slide, and all while they move at 5 mph.
I now use the term "Storm Team 12" to describe any hype perpetrated for effect. You see it on the news, you see it in advertising (especially for legal ads), and we all have friends or co-workers who have gone beyond exaggeration.
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