food and pubes

Years ago I saw a Conan Obrien show where a man claimed he could ruin any moment with one word.

Scene: man and women in a romantic restaurant looking into each others eyes. Enter man from the left, running across the stage and stops just long enough to say his line at the table.
Man: *Pubes.*

One day during fifth grade the entire grade gathered together and then split up according to gender. The girls went off into some secret magical room (I could only imagine) and the boys watched the *Butter Cream Gang.* The girls came back with doughnuts and all the boys complained (at which point the female staff probably made stupid jokes like *I^d trade all my female issues for a doughnut any day*)

When it was the boy^s turn to get the sex talk I was severely disappointed. I remember male teacher, I had never seen before, told us that *during this point in our lives we may see some physical changes with our bodies.* And we didn’t get any doughnuts.

After school that same day my dad asked me if we could go on a special daddy son date? Sure, this usually meant eating out. We went to Chi Chi^s and I ordered a beef burrito with black beans. I^m pretty sure my dad gave me some important/sound advice that day, but all I remember is that I didn^t like the black beans but because I didn^t want to disappoint my dad while eating out I ate the whole thing.

I don^t know what the fascination with food and puberty is, but all this reminiscing is making me hungry.

fountain of joy

I have told many people, even people who haven^t asked, that I grew up in a normal family. And compared to some families, mine is like tuna casserole, but looking back on it brings up few *normal* memories.

My dad had the typical nine to five work day and when he got home everyone was excited to see him, but weekday dad was all *dinner, homework, and bed.* So, my sister and brothers^ real treat came on the weekends when we could spend the whole day with him.

But my dad never slowed down (still). On the weekends he always had a project for everyone to work on, but that was OK because we all knew there would be a reward.

I still remember digging what seemed like a mile long trench for our new sprinklers. The day was hot, there was no shade, I had the bad shovel, (with a square tip, meant for shoveling coal not digging trenches) and for some reason I was wearing a black shirt. It felt like I had been digging my whole life, and then it happened, the reward.

No one announced it, there was no specific time, but everyone could tell when my dad had that look in his eyes, we were going to the gas station.

My five siblings and two parents all had their own refill mug and mug holder (the kind that you had to roll into your window). We would pile into the 82^ chevy tan-van and head to the Holiday Oil station for 25 cent refills.

It sounds silly, but those were some of the best times of my childhood. Even today when I fill up a soda at a gas station I feel a little nostalgic. If I have done bad on a test or been hit by a car, a gas station soda always makes me feel good.

Samantha Brown is Dumb

Samantha Brown is an idiot. She has a show onthe travel channel that offers no insights or diversity to make the show worth watching. Basically, she goes to the most popular travel sights in Europe and does the same things most tourists do.

Today her show was on Naples. I think there should be plenty of unique history, culture, and gastronomy to entertain, but she managed to screw that up.

Despite her lack for entertainment, she is also just dumb. She is not the only person to fall victim to the strange diction of *The Three Amigos,* but she in on TV! You may remember the scene when the three amigos mistake the word *infamous* for *more than famous. Since, I have heard countless people use the word wrong, but not on Television.

In reference to Naples, Sam Brown said that *Naples is infamous because if you could bottle the energy from the people in the city you could power the whole world?* That didn’t even make sense for either definition (after which she eats pizza, yeah, pizza in Italy).

Light never dies

Perhaps I read into coincidences too much, or perhaps I am in tune with some bizarre pattern of reoccurring truths.

I have been reading a book called *Einstein^s Universe,* which is fascinating. I am currently reading about the *Energy of Creation* and how everything, EVERYTHING, with matter has energy. That is neither innovative or fascinating until you consider that this energy can be converted into energy^s elementary form, light. Now, because I, and most likely you, are made up of matter we could, in theory, change from matter to light (given the correct stimulants, a process not yet available, but proven).
(I chose this picture because his 'giving the tongue" picture is too popular and this is a more accurate picture for when he proved his genius.)

While listening to Moby I was struck by the lyrics of *We are all Made of Stars,* for, what I think are, obvious reasons. Suddenly the song took on a whole new meaning for me. As it happens, I had my music player on random and the next song out of over 2000 songs is another Moby *Natural Blues.* The juxtaposition of these two songs hits me with the first line *oh lordy, trouble so hard.* I then remembered the music video of an old Moby dieing in front of a television set shared by a group of old/dieing people.

Is Moby trying to tell me something? Does he have a trouble with the Science and Theology relationship of his life? Or do I? I don’t want to die in an old folks home. Instead I would like to volunteer my body to science. I want someone to attempt to accelerate my body/matter to a speed that will prompt it to turn into light.
(come on, doesn't that look fun?)

Natural blues - Moby

GRE? More like GOD

While on vacation in Las Vegas last weekend I was visiting with a few friends on the top level of a parking lot when I spotted my parents creeping around the corner. Once they saw that I saw them, they threw their arms up in the air as if to surprise me. My dad claims that he just wanted an In-n-out burger, but I suspect their motives were persuaded by me being down there (especially because it was a seven hour drive one way).

I mention this because it reminds me that my parents sometimes act more like double-o agents than guardians. That said, Mom and Dad, if you are reading this please do not take offense, I’m just letting off a little steam.

So, a few months back I took the GRE. Although I am applying to English Grad Programs, my English score was lacking. My parents probably took this harder then I did (and I didn’t take it well). So, in an effort to raise my score I bought an online course through Kaplan. I spent countless hours studying the course and memorizing vocabulary words.

When I took the test again I did better (although not as well as I would have liked, but English has never been my strong point in scholastics). My score raised one hundred points and when I called my parents they wanted to come take me out to eat to celebrate, OK.

While eating my parents kept telling me that I probably hated them because all the schools I applied for were on the east coast, obviously true. They then asked me why I did better on this test. I tried to be modest and said that “I studied a little and the test just went better. “ To which my parents replied, “we prayed hard for you and I’m sure that is what made the difference. I think you owe it to us to at least apply to some closer universities.”

I’m not atheist, but this can’t be serious. I studied till my head hurt almost every night for two months. Memorized two hundred words and many of their synonyms. I wish I knew before I spent all that money and time that their prayers were the only insurance I needed.

Sorry, it’s been on my mind for some time now.

Clifton Park

I just finished reading the book “devil in the white city” which tells the historic tale of the Chicago World’s fair and related stories (the related stories are more captivating, but not pertinent to my story). The book goes into some detail about the buildings and parks that were built to host the fair and this ignited a fuse of interest in me.
I remember living in Baltimore and loving the city parks.
The whole idea of a park in a densely populated super-culture is fascinating to me.
I lived two blocks from Patterson Park at one time and visited it at least once a week (usually more, but always on Sunday).

Despite the “crack vials” and “dirty needles,” I loved the park for its juxtaposed beauty. The park reminds me of a picture I have see (and most everyone else) of a flower trying to grow out of a crack on dark mountainside. Its easy to be beautiful in Yosemite Park, but in a city with one of the biggest drug and homicide problems in the Nation is a different story.
Clifton park is another amazing feature in Baltimore. A huge pond used to entertain Baltimorians in Clifton park until it was drained to make way for urban structures. Before the pond was killed, a giant water-pump was housed in a beautiful gothic building reminiscent of the recent immigrant’s culture (gothic as apposed to the romantic buildings displayed at the Chicago world fair and subsequently everywhere else in America). I still remember the first time I saw the building rise above the surrounding hills and engulf my mind with its dark dilapidated grandeur.

As soon as I left Baltimore, the water-pump building (there is no official name that I am aware of) was threatened by a more corruptible element than time, capitalism.

Charles T. Jeffries bought the rights to put business style offices in the historic water-pump building. Wow, what a great idea. In a city that is full of office towers and inadequate parking, what could be a better idea than to convert on of the more unique building in the city into another mundane, purely functional, catastrophes?

You may be thinking, that’s a great idea, the proposal will insure the longevity of the building, create a profitable, sought-after office building with a fantastic view. Wrong.
Clifton Park is in the middle of one of the roughest areas of Baltimore (Johns Hoppkins students don’t even joke about walking one block off campus, let alone almost a full mile). The already small park will have to provide parking for the employees because no one in their right mind would leave there car in the original parking area for the park.

I don’t suggest that they just let time destroy the building, but the city is on the rebound and in a few years (maybe a decade or two) the property around the park might be able to support a proper restoration of the building (there are funds, although few, already established to save the building from decay)

UVU?

So, you may have heard that Utah Valley State College received their biggest wish to become a University. In an attempt to find out what consequences this will have for the students and teacher I visited their website.
Having attended the school I do not suggest that they are undeserving of the honor, but this quote from their website is a little conflicting to the privilege;
“With UVSC becoming a university, do's this mean that there will also be some on-campus housing available for students moving too Utah County?”