As I've been using the program for a couple of weeks now, I have obviously watched all of the 'how to' videos that show the workouts you are supposed to do and how to make them progressively harder.
When I imagined what they would be like, my imagination borrowed images from the commercials of Greg doing one armed pull-ups with great lighting and perfect flow. I assumed the gym used in the video would be well laid out, Greg's lines perfectly crafted, memorized and delivered, and the editing impeccable, making the production easy to follow and understand.
Well, you don't write a lead up paragraph like that unless what you experienced did not meet your expectations. The videos seemed very low budget, like, maybe the tripod held the camcorder while he worked out with whatever was lying around in his home gym and the editing was done over a couple of hours and a few beers.
I am fairly certain it was done in his home gym, as the yard outside the windows did have a similar look to the yard of "The Mansion" that is in the commercials and the ceiling was not very high. The way he explained exercises and went from one to another reminded me of that time when you were twelve and you wend over to your buddy's house who had been working out for a month on the weight set his dad just bought. The explanations were haphazard and when he went to do some of the exercises he seemed to be looking around for equipment that would "work", but that he didn't really intend on using for the particular exercise until that moment. Probably the most disappointing part of all of this was when he went to do the "One-armed pull-up" that, in my opinion, seems to be the signature piece of the bodyweight program. He says in the video that he just worked out the day before, so he probably wouldn't be able to do it. And, true to his word, he pulled himself up some, but couldn't complete it. Again, it's my twelve year old friend saying that he can do it, but that he's just really sore that day.
Now, before anyone gets the wrong impression, Greg can do a one-armed pull-pull up. I've seen him do it in other videos. My issue: You're a professional here, man. Take a day off of lifting, so you can perform everything you need to when it comes to making the video we'll actually be watching. Don't just give us the "This is sort of what it looks like. You get the idea." because we didn't pay for sort-of, we paid for the whole shebang.
Speaking of she-bang, there was another part of the production that made me cock my head and squint my eyes. There were two specific times when he explained a part of an exercise where you would need to thrust your hips forward... just like you were thrusting into a girl. I'm not making this up, I wouldn't make this up, he actually felt the need to put that in when explaining how to perform an exercise. Now, maybe I'm being a prude, or overly sensitive, but I don't really want to mix sex into my workout. I'm just working out, I don't need to think about a sexual act... just sayin'.
While the production was a little low budget, I must give it some positives though. Each exercise and its progression is its own track. Meaning that if I forget what comes after regular push-ups in the progression, I only have to watch three minutes of movie to find out, rather than trying to scroll through an hour and a half of film. It's also nice that the program is digital and fully accessible to me for the rest of my life.
Overall, I'm disappointed in the production, but I think it's a good system. I still feel sore and feel like I am gaining strength slowly, but surely, I just wish they would have spent a little more time making a polished set of videos... where sexual references weren't made.
As for my progression: This last Saturday I weighed 188.2 pounds (85.36 kg), which is a total weight loss of 45.6 pounds (20.68 kg). It was a pound lost at the end of a week where I did pretty well at staying within my calorie goals. I'm doing well.
Tuesday, January 24, 2017
Wednesday, January 18, 2017
Kinobody Body Weight Program - Needed Equipment
I thought for a while about how to organize this blog. I thought about all the things I have already learned in the first week and wondered how best to put them all into one post, so the information was easily and quickly found and digested. Then, I realized that it wasn't really possible, and that I would need something to write every now and then. So, I've decided to make the title of each post what someone would be looking for if they were debating if this was the right program for them, then I'll spend a few paragraphs on the title subject, and finish off with my progress.
When looking into the program, I noticed that I couldn't find a list of the equipment I would need. Of course, there are plenty of pictures and videos of Greg doing handstand push-ups on the beach and one-handed push-ups with his feet up on park benches, but what if I didn't have a park near me? What if I couldn't do a handstand push-up on the first day (let alone own a beach)? Did I have the stuff I would need? How much would that stuff cost? Where would I find said stuff (Amazon, duh Paul)? No matter what, I knew I would likely need 'stuff', no matter how many times Kinobody advertised that all I needed was my own body weight.
So, here it is: the list of 'stuff' you're going to need.
Some way to do pull-ups. I started using a door-frame pull-up bar before I started Kinobody. I used this bad boy. It works pretty well, though if you get it, you'll want to tear off part of the box to put on the part of the bar that rests just above your door-frame. There is some padding, but even at only 210 pounds (or so) I dug some pretty good holes into my wall. A few pieces of cardboard stops this. The pull-up bar will only take you so far in the system though. Eventually, you know, when you're awesome, you'll be doing muscle-ups. This is a pull-up where you get up high enough that your arms take over and push you up until your arms are straight (think of how your body looks when you're hopping a fence, just before you put your foot on the top of it). So, the door-frame pull-up bar will work up until you need to do muscle-ups, then you'll need something that will allow you to go arms length above the bar without hitting your head.
If you can't do three pull-ups/chin-ups (this is me folks, so don't be too embarrassed) you're going to need a bar at waist height for rows. I'm currently using some handles that are more like chest height and then putting my feet on a chair. At any rate, you're going to need to find something to fit this bill.
A floor you're okay with laying on and putting your hands on. Greg uses a mat of some sort; I use the cement in my garage and wear an old shirt that I don't mind getting dirty. So, whatever you need to do to get a floor that's lay-on-able.
You'll need a ball that can hold your weight, or some other thing that can hold one hand off the ground while the other is on the floor with your body in push-up position. A basketball, or medicine ball, or soccer ball would all do, I think.
Right at the start you're going to need a chair or bench that will hold your weight and stay in the same place while you use it to brace on. I was using a couple of lawn chairs, but found they move too easily, so I bought a flat bench that I'll probably review later when I've used it for a while. In the beginning this will be used to put your hands on while you lower your butt toward the floor, and to put your feet up on for incline push-ups when you start doing them. If you're like me, you'll also be using this for putting your feet on to make a bar at waist height.
And that's it. If you have all of these things you should be good to go. If not, you'll either be buying stuff, or thinking of ways to use what you have instead of these things.
As for me, I weighed in at 189.2 pounds (85.8196763 kilos) on Saturday (Saturday is generally my weigh in day. I weigh myself every day, but only keep track on the lowest days, and that is usually Saturday). I hit my calorie goals every day the week leading up to Saturday, and hoped to lose a little more, but so it goes. The workout routine has made me extremely sore. I assume this means good things, but read that being sore isn't necessarily the only indicator that what you're doing is working. At any rate, I felt pretty good on my walk Saturday morning, even if a little sore. Just need to keep grinding.
When looking into the program, I noticed that I couldn't find a list of the equipment I would need. Of course, there are plenty of pictures and videos of Greg doing handstand push-ups on the beach and one-handed push-ups with his feet up on park benches, but what if I didn't have a park near me? What if I couldn't do a handstand push-up on the first day (let alone own a beach)? Did I have the stuff I would need? How much would that stuff cost? Where would I find said stuff (Amazon, duh Paul)? No matter what, I knew I would likely need 'stuff', no matter how many times Kinobody advertised that all I needed was my own body weight.
So, here it is: the list of 'stuff' you're going to need.
Some way to do pull-ups. I started using a door-frame pull-up bar before I started Kinobody. I used this bad boy. It works pretty well, though if you get it, you'll want to tear off part of the box to put on the part of the bar that rests just above your door-frame. There is some padding, but even at only 210 pounds (or so) I dug some pretty good holes into my wall. A few pieces of cardboard stops this. The pull-up bar will only take you so far in the system though. Eventually, you know, when you're awesome, you'll be doing muscle-ups. This is a pull-up where you get up high enough that your arms take over and push you up until your arms are straight (think of how your body looks when you're hopping a fence, just before you put your foot on the top of it). So, the door-frame pull-up bar will work up until you need to do muscle-ups, then you'll need something that will allow you to go arms length above the bar without hitting your head.
If you can't do three pull-ups/chin-ups (this is me folks, so don't be too embarrassed) you're going to need a bar at waist height for rows. I'm currently using some handles that are more like chest height and then putting my feet on a chair. At any rate, you're going to need to find something to fit this bill.
A floor you're okay with laying on and putting your hands on. Greg uses a mat of some sort; I use the cement in my garage and wear an old shirt that I don't mind getting dirty. So, whatever you need to do to get a floor that's lay-on-able.
You'll need a ball that can hold your weight, or some other thing that can hold one hand off the ground while the other is on the floor with your body in push-up position. A basketball, or medicine ball, or soccer ball would all do, I think.
Right at the start you're going to need a chair or bench that will hold your weight and stay in the same place while you use it to brace on. I was using a couple of lawn chairs, but found they move too easily, so I bought a flat bench that I'll probably review later when I've used it for a while. In the beginning this will be used to put your hands on while you lower your butt toward the floor, and to put your feet up on for incline push-ups when you start doing them. If you're like me, you'll also be using this for putting your feet on to make a bar at waist height.
And that's it. If you have all of these things you should be good to go. If not, you'll either be buying stuff, or thinking of ways to use what you have instead of these things.
As for me, I weighed in at 189.2 pounds (85.8196763 kilos) on Saturday (Saturday is generally my weigh in day. I weigh myself every day, but only keep track on the lowest days, and that is usually Saturday). I hit my calorie goals every day the week leading up to Saturday, and hoped to lose a little more, but so it goes. The workout routine has made me extremely sore. I assume this means good things, but read that being sore isn't necessarily the only indicator that what you're doing is working. At any rate, I felt pretty good on my walk Saturday morning, even if a little sore. Just need to keep grinding.
Monday, January 9, 2017
Why I'm Starting to Blog Again
I decided to blog again, because I saw a hole in the internet's vast sea of information (which was surprising considering how many cat pictures, and fail movies are already out there). Back in the end of April I weighed 233.8 pounds (according to the "slightly above average priced at Wal-Mart" bathroom scale that sits outside my shower), so that's 106.0499 kg for all of my non-English system using friends... that number honestly means nothing to me. I was thirty then (oh, the good ol' days) and stood at a towering 5'11", again that's 180.34 cm, and again, that number means very little to me. At the time, I looked at myself and said, "Self, you're not as in-shape as I wish you were. We might want to do something about that." Which was the very dramatic start to me trying Myfitnesspal.com again (I lost fifty pounds while using it about five years ago). I decided it would be a lifestyle change for me. The first time I used it I played it like a video game where I weighed food, only did cardio, and did my level best to hit that 1200 calorie a day mark (if you get below that mark myfitnesspal won't project your weight loss in five weeks because at 1199 calories you are simply starving yourself and that might backfire... they have a whole warning paragraph about it). After getting below my goal of 200 pounds (you do the math on where I started) I realized only eating 1200 calories a day was unsustainable, and really not very much fun, so I decided I had 'beat' the game of weight loss and could move on to other games. Not surprisingly, I did not keep the weight off. And so I found myself at thirty almost weighing as much as I had back when I tried the first time.
I went along my merry weigh (pun, get it?) until I got to about August, or September. I was down to 219 pounds (99.33672 kg), but didn't really look different. I reflected on the first time I lost weight and had noticed the same thing back then: I lost weight, but didn't feel like I looked any different. And, let's be honest, none of us are really doing any of this for our health, it's all about vanity, and my weight loss was not stroking my ego, so I decided to do something I hadn't ever done in my life (that's me being completely honest) I decided to watch what I ate AND exercise at the same time.
At first I mostly just walked in the mornings, but I began looking online for workout programs. Because of some ingenious advertisement placing and the fact that Greg O'Gallagher (the creater) looks like he just got off the set of Baywatch, I started looking into Kinobody. I took that quiz (if you've looked into Kinobody, you know which one I'm talking about) like, ten times and always got the Warrior Program as my 'best fit', but I was skeptical, I mean, how in the world could they know the best program for me after six questions (before anyone leaves a comment, I know it was a marketing ploy)? But, Greg did say a few things I liked. He said you would need a caloric deficit to lose any weight (love me some honesty), but he also said it was meant to be a lifestyle change, so no cutting out whole types of food, or anything like that (which fit right into my lifestyle change mindset). He promised results, but not overnight results (again, a little honesty is nice). And he said to look online for things he put out for free to see if he was full of it, or not.
So, I took him up on his offer. I looked online and tried a few things he talked about. One thing Greg is big on is intermittent fasting. This is where you skip breakfast, eat a small lunch, and then eat a big dinner, with fruit as snacks for in between meals if you need them. He's also big on drinking coffee before lunch to suppress appetite (as some of you know, I'm LDS, so I wasn't able to follow this piece of his program). I also looked deeper into the programs he offered and I saw there was a bodyweight program. This was huge for me, as I really don't have time to make it to the gym, nor the money for a weight set. On top of that, I hurt my back a while ago and have re-injured it a couple of times trying to lift since the initial injury, so I'm a little wary of weights. He talked about a few things I didn't know what meant, but I did understand pull-ups, push-ups, leg lifts, squats, and trying to work on big muscles first and only lifting three times a week. So, I put together my own hodge-podge regimen and took off, with calisthenics on M, W, and F, and a walk or jog on T, Th, and S, with Sunday off for the Sabbath.
I've been pretty good at keeping up with this for the last three months and weighed in a couple of days ago at 189.8 pounds on that same high-quality scale. The quick employment of my desktop calculator says that means I've lost 44 pounds (19.95806 kg) overall and 29.2 pounds (13.2449 kg) since starting to exercise. Honestly, the best part about exercising is that I can see more tone, which feeds that ego and makes me want to keep trying. Also, if you look at my Myfitnesspal tracker for weight, you can see slow and sort-of steady weight loss before trying out some of Greg's ideas, and then a quick and steady drop off after.
So, I put him to the test and his advice really did help, or at least it seemed to. True to my word, I paid my money and am starting the Kinobody Bodyweight program. Which really brings me to why I'm blogging again. As I looked over the internet I found a few people who reviewed the program, but all of them seemed like workout website guys... you know, ones that might be paid by Kinobody to 'try' their program, who started the program with six-pack abs and then made sure to eat a lot less for a few days so their abs would pop in their 'after' picture? What I didn't find was a review from a normal guy who started out in less than stellar shape and showed his results after trying the program for several months. So I thought, hey, I'm a normal guy, well, normal-ish, I'm in less than stellar shape, I'm trying out the program, why not give people like me what they want? And if no one wants this, at least maybe this will keep me on the program so I can at least, for myself, see if it works. On top of reviewing Kinobody, I think I'll also do a few reviews on products. Right now, I'm thinking protein, as that took some research, and I've found some good ones.
Anyway, if you're like, "This sounds awesome!" go ahead and leave me a comment about how awesome it sounds for some encouragement. If not, then, you know, be cool about it. At any rate, I'm kind of excited to track progress and see how much this actually works.
I went along my merry weigh (pun, get it?) until I got to about August, or September. I was down to 219 pounds (99.33672 kg), but didn't really look different. I reflected on the first time I lost weight and had noticed the same thing back then: I lost weight, but didn't feel like I looked any different. And, let's be honest, none of us are really doing any of this for our health, it's all about vanity, and my weight loss was not stroking my ego, so I decided to do something I hadn't ever done in my life (that's me being completely honest) I decided to watch what I ate AND exercise at the same time.
At first I mostly just walked in the mornings, but I began looking online for workout programs. Because of some ingenious advertisement placing and the fact that Greg O'Gallagher (the creater) looks like he just got off the set of Baywatch, I started looking into Kinobody. I took that quiz (if you've looked into Kinobody, you know which one I'm talking about) like, ten times and always got the Warrior Program as my 'best fit', but I was skeptical, I mean, how in the world could they know the best program for me after six questions (before anyone leaves a comment, I know it was a marketing ploy)? But, Greg did say a few things I liked. He said you would need a caloric deficit to lose any weight (love me some honesty), but he also said it was meant to be a lifestyle change, so no cutting out whole types of food, or anything like that (which fit right into my lifestyle change mindset). He promised results, but not overnight results (again, a little honesty is nice). And he said to look online for things he put out for free to see if he was full of it, or not.
So, I took him up on his offer. I looked online and tried a few things he talked about. One thing Greg is big on is intermittent fasting. This is where you skip breakfast, eat a small lunch, and then eat a big dinner, with fruit as snacks for in between meals if you need them. He's also big on drinking coffee before lunch to suppress appetite (as some of you know, I'm LDS, so I wasn't able to follow this piece of his program). I also looked deeper into the programs he offered and I saw there was a bodyweight program. This was huge for me, as I really don't have time to make it to the gym, nor the money for a weight set. On top of that, I hurt my back a while ago and have re-injured it a couple of times trying to lift since the initial injury, so I'm a little wary of weights. He talked about a few things I didn't know what meant, but I did understand pull-ups, push-ups, leg lifts, squats, and trying to work on big muscles first and only lifting three times a week. So, I put together my own hodge-podge regimen and took off, with calisthenics on M, W, and F, and a walk or jog on T, Th, and S, with Sunday off for the Sabbath.
I've been pretty good at keeping up with this for the last three months and weighed in a couple of days ago at 189.8 pounds on that same high-quality scale. The quick employment of my desktop calculator says that means I've lost 44 pounds (19.95806 kg) overall and 29.2 pounds (13.2449 kg) since starting to exercise. Honestly, the best part about exercising is that I can see more tone, which feeds that ego and makes me want to keep trying. Also, if you look at my Myfitnesspal tracker for weight, you can see slow and sort-of steady weight loss before trying out some of Greg's ideas, and then a quick and steady drop off after.
So, I put him to the test and his advice really did help, or at least it seemed to. True to my word, I paid my money and am starting the Kinobody Bodyweight program. Which really brings me to why I'm blogging again. As I looked over the internet I found a few people who reviewed the program, but all of them seemed like workout website guys... you know, ones that might be paid by Kinobody to 'try' their program, who started the program with six-pack abs and then made sure to eat a lot less for a few days so their abs would pop in their 'after' picture? What I didn't find was a review from a normal guy who started out in less than stellar shape and showed his results after trying the program for several months. So I thought, hey, I'm a normal guy, well, normal-ish, I'm in less than stellar shape, I'm trying out the program, why not give people like me what they want? And if no one wants this, at least maybe this will keep me on the program so I can at least, for myself, see if it works. On top of reviewing Kinobody, I think I'll also do a few reviews on products. Right now, I'm thinking protein, as that took some research, and I've found some good ones.
Anyway, if you're like, "This sounds awesome!" go ahead and leave me a comment about how awesome it sounds for some encouragement. If not, then, you know, be cool about it. At any rate, I'm kind of excited to track progress and see how much this actually works.
Saturday, August 23, 2014
Plotting Murder
As soon as I slumped down into my seat I knew I was going to kill him. I'd never seen him before, or at least, if I did I couldn't tell him apart from any of the others I'd seen, they all look the same to me. He noticed me too, I could tell because he twitched nervously, obviously trying to decide if he should make a break for the door. He didn't though, which was a mistake because that was probably his only real chance at escape and survival.
If I'm being honest, I can't tell you how many of them I've killed. I've lost count over the years. Every one I've seen I've taken a stab at, except for a brief stint where I found Jesus, and just tossed them outside without killing them. It's funny how even after finding religion prejudice usually nestles right back into your heart, you know, once you get tired of trying so hard. At any rate, his kind isn't supposed to be here.
As I sat there, staring into his beady little eyes, I reflected on who I was, who I had become. There I sat, plotting murder without any reservation or remorse. He was created by the same God as I was, wasn't he? As revolting as he was, even if his presence alone made me sick to my stomach, God formed him and sent him to this earth. Didn't that deserve some kind of respect? Some kind of empathy, or kindness? Probably, but God wasn't there, not in that room, not in my heart, not for him anyway. He was going to die.
The most disturbing part in that moment though, was how cooly I went about it. I didn't even try to put him out of his misery. I let him sit there, nervously, probably sensing he was going to die, while I finished my business. And as soon as I did, I stood up, walked over to him, squished him with wadded up toilet paper, threw him in the toilet and flushed. I didn't even have a hard time sleeping that night, so engrained was my depravity. I don't suffer spiders in my bathroom.
If I'm being honest, I can't tell you how many of them I've killed. I've lost count over the years. Every one I've seen I've taken a stab at, except for a brief stint where I found Jesus, and just tossed them outside without killing them. It's funny how even after finding religion prejudice usually nestles right back into your heart, you know, once you get tired of trying so hard. At any rate, his kind isn't supposed to be here.
As I sat there, staring into his beady little eyes, I reflected on who I was, who I had become. There I sat, plotting murder without any reservation or remorse. He was created by the same God as I was, wasn't he? As revolting as he was, even if his presence alone made me sick to my stomach, God formed him and sent him to this earth. Didn't that deserve some kind of respect? Some kind of empathy, or kindness? Probably, but God wasn't there, not in that room, not in my heart, not for him anyway. He was going to die.
The most disturbing part in that moment though, was how cooly I went about it. I didn't even try to put him out of his misery. I let him sit there, nervously, probably sensing he was going to die, while I finished my business. And as soon as I did, I stood up, walked over to him, squished him with wadded up toilet paper, threw him in the toilet and flushed. I didn't even have a hard time sleeping that night, so engrained was my depravity. I don't suffer spiders in my bathroom.
Monday, January 6, 2014
What Really Needs to be Done About Same-Sex Marriage
I've been mulling over this post for a few weeks now. It all started when I woke up on December 21st and heard that my state, Utah, would be allowing same-sex marriage, not because the people decided on it, but because a federal judge decided not allowing it was unconstitutional. I'll admit that my first reaction was one of annoyance. I'm a pretty big supporter of states' right to govern themselves, so when I hear a member of the federal government decides to infringe upon states governing themselves it gets my dander up. But, as I always do whenever my dander gets up, I started looking at why. Why did this get my dander up?
My main issue with the judge's actions is that I don't see marriage as a right. If we were denying life and liberty to a group, then I would be more than happy for a federal judge to step in and defend that group. It's why our founders set up the United States as a republic, not a democracy. But marriage isn't a right. A right is something owed to someone simply because they are human. Marriage, in the eyes of our government, is nothing more than a business deal between two people and the government, and I don't see business deals as rights. The government, and more importantly, the people who fund that government, deserve to have a say in who the government goes into business with. So, the judge had no business getting into the business dealings of Utah.
Some say that it's unfair of the government to go into business with some couples and not with others. That makes sense, it is unfair, but the government isn't calling these deals partnerships, or conglomerates, or any other amoral name, they are calling it marriage, a very morally charged word for a lot of people. Some may say this shouldn't matter, but it does. The government has set itself up as a moral compass, and, as sad as it is, many Americans don't think for themselves and just follow the compass. "If it's legal, it's okay." A good example is alcohol and marijuana. Both drugs do essentially the same thing to people (a good case could even be made that marijuana is less dangerous), but which one do we tell our kids to never touch and which do we tell our kids to use responsibly? The government has put itself up as a moral compass, it's working, and so it is in each individual's best interest to vote to make that moral compass look as much like theirs as possible, no matter which side of the debate they're on, or why they believe what they do, because that's how they believe our country will be better. I don't like that we're all trying to push our morals on each other, but that's what the government has set us up to do.
And morals is what the fight is really about. Both sides try to say it is about insurance benefits and tax right-offs, but that's not REALLY what is being fought about. Otherwise, when those against same-sex marriage said homosexuals could enter a legal partnership so long as it wasn't called marriage, homosexuals would have jumped at it. It's not about that though. It's about one group thinking love is love and should be respected and considered equal, while the other thinks romantic love should have some rules, so that it doesn't get perverted. And I'm not here to judge either side of that.
I have my own beliefs, but I've found that they are torn. As most of you know, I'm LDS. If you don't know my religion's stance on same-sex marriage, you can find it here. And while I largely agree with it, I also have some sympathy too. I've put myself in the place of homosexual LDS men and it's not a fun place to be. If I were homosexual, these would be my choices as an LDS man. 1. I might not get married at all. I honestly can't imagine what my life would be like without my wife. She's my sounding board, my shoulder to cry on, my partner, my friend, my confident, my cheer-leader, and so much more. I would only be a fraction of what I am now without a spouse. I wouldn't want to choose that. 2. I could marry someone I'm not particularly attracted to. If roles were reversed, I'd be asked to marry a man. I don't want to marry a man. The idea of seriously holding hands with them, holding them, spooning with them, and kissing them does not interest me in the slightest, and I haven't even started thinking about sex. It'd be weird, to say the very least. 3. I could marry someone I am attracted to and either choose to believe the doctrine as it stands and believe I'm living in sin, or stop believing in at least that part of the doctrine. I'd be uncomfortable every Sunday as people passed judging glances at me and my spouse. People would make rude remarks both behind my back and to my face. And that's all before we decided to adopt a baby. No matter what, they have a tough row to hoe, and I can't pretend I don't believe that's the case.
On the other hand, I do believe homosexual acts are a sin. That means I believe homosexual marriage is not something to be condoned, and because the government has forced me to push my morals on others, I have to say, with my vote (if the federal government believes in states deciding anything anymore) that homosexual marriage is immoral, and I believe we would be better off without it in our society, just like the opposing side is trying to push their morals on me and my family.
So, because I hate cognitive dissonance, I've thought a lot about what we should do about it. At first, I thought the government should get out of these partnerships all together. I granted that it would be difficult, but it would be worth it. We would have to figure out a different scheme for family insurance, wills, who gets to see whom in the hospital, who makes medical decisions, etc., but it would all be worth it in the end. This was a little idealistic though. It would take so much work that we would never get started on it.
Instead, and I think this would honestly solve everything, the government shouldn't call ANY of these partnerships marriage anymore, and the ones that are marriages should no longer be called marriages by the state. They should be called by an amoral name like partnership, or maybe we'll get creative and call them something else. We'll make them just as much of a pain in the ass to get into and out of as they already are, so they are stable units (what I believe the government is trying to accomplish by being involved at all). The government can look at and change all the tax right-offs, etc. that come with these partnerships, so it can be financially feasible (though I highly doubt it's going to make that much of a difference anyway). Insurance companies will be given the choice whether to acknowledge these partnerships or not (and hopefully companies will be kind enough to their employees to choose insurance companies that will). And it can stop being a moral issue all together. People can choose to make these partnerships as religious/secular, sexual/asexual, faithful/unfaithful as they see fit, and we can all get out of each other's business.
My main issue with the judge's actions is that I don't see marriage as a right. If we were denying life and liberty to a group, then I would be more than happy for a federal judge to step in and defend that group. It's why our founders set up the United States as a republic, not a democracy. But marriage isn't a right. A right is something owed to someone simply because they are human. Marriage, in the eyes of our government, is nothing more than a business deal between two people and the government, and I don't see business deals as rights. The government, and more importantly, the people who fund that government, deserve to have a say in who the government goes into business with. So, the judge had no business getting into the business dealings of Utah.
Some say that it's unfair of the government to go into business with some couples and not with others. That makes sense, it is unfair, but the government isn't calling these deals partnerships, or conglomerates, or any other amoral name, they are calling it marriage, a very morally charged word for a lot of people. Some may say this shouldn't matter, but it does. The government has set itself up as a moral compass, and, as sad as it is, many Americans don't think for themselves and just follow the compass. "If it's legal, it's okay." A good example is alcohol and marijuana. Both drugs do essentially the same thing to people (a good case could even be made that marijuana is less dangerous), but which one do we tell our kids to never touch and which do we tell our kids to use responsibly? The government has put itself up as a moral compass, it's working, and so it is in each individual's best interest to vote to make that moral compass look as much like theirs as possible, no matter which side of the debate they're on, or why they believe what they do, because that's how they believe our country will be better. I don't like that we're all trying to push our morals on each other, but that's what the government has set us up to do.
And morals is what the fight is really about. Both sides try to say it is about insurance benefits and tax right-offs, but that's not REALLY what is being fought about. Otherwise, when those against same-sex marriage said homosexuals could enter a legal partnership so long as it wasn't called marriage, homosexuals would have jumped at it. It's not about that though. It's about one group thinking love is love and should be respected and considered equal, while the other thinks romantic love should have some rules, so that it doesn't get perverted. And I'm not here to judge either side of that.
I have my own beliefs, but I've found that they are torn. As most of you know, I'm LDS. If you don't know my religion's stance on same-sex marriage, you can find it here. And while I largely agree with it, I also have some sympathy too. I've put myself in the place of homosexual LDS men and it's not a fun place to be. If I were homosexual, these would be my choices as an LDS man. 1. I might not get married at all. I honestly can't imagine what my life would be like without my wife. She's my sounding board, my shoulder to cry on, my partner, my friend, my confident, my cheer-leader, and so much more. I would only be a fraction of what I am now without a spouse. I wouldn't want to choose that. 2. I could marry someone I'm not particularly attracted to. If roles were reversed, I'd be asked to marry a man. I don't want to marry a man. The idea of seriously holding hands with them, holding them, spooning with them, and kissing them does not interest me in the slightest, and I haven't even started thinking about sex. It'd be weird, to say the very least. 3. I could marry someone I am attracted to and either choose to believe the doctrine as it stands and believe I'm living in sin, or stop believing in at least that part of the doctrine. I'd be uncomfortable every Sunday as people passed judging glances at me and my spouse. People would make rude remarks both behind my back and to my face. And that's all before we decided to adopt a baby. No matter what, they have a tough row to hoe, and I can't pretend I don't believe that's the case.
On the other hand, I do believe homosexual acts are a sin. That means I believe homosexual marriage is not something to be condoned, and because the government has forced me to push my morals on others, I have to say, with my vote (if the federal government believes in states deciding anything anymore) that homosexual marriage is immoral, and I believe we would be better off without it in our society, just like the opposing side is trying to push their morals on me and my family.
So, because I hate cognitive dissonance, I've thought a lot about what we should do about it. At first, I thought the government should get out of these partnerships all together. I granted that it would be difficult, but it would be worth it. We would have to figure out a different scheme for family insurance, wills, who gets to see whom in the hospital, who makes medical decisions, etc., but it would all be worth it in the end. This was a little idealistic though. It would take so much work that we would never get started on it.
Instead, and I think this would honestly solve everything, the government shouldn't call ANY of these partnerships marriage anymore, and the ones that are marriages should no longer be called marriages by the state. They should be called by an amoral name like partnership, or maybe we'll get creative and call them something else. We'll make them just as much of a pain in the ass to get into and out of as they already are, so they are stable units (what I believe the government is trying to accomplish by being involved at all). The government can look at and change all the tax right-offs, etc. that come with these partnerships, so it can be financially feasible (though I highly doubt it's going to make that much of a difference anyway). Insurance companies will be given the choice whether to acknowledge these partnerships or not (and hopefully companies will be kind enough to their employees to choose insurance companies that will). And it can stop being a moral issue all together. People can choose to make these partnerships as religious/secular, sexual/asexual, faithful/unfaithful as they see fit, and we can all get out of each other's business.
Friday, December 6, 2013
The Talk I'm Giving this Sunday (Wish me Luck)
In my church we don't have paid clergy, and every week two or three people are asked to speak in our main meeting. I've been asked to speak this Sunday, and this is what I've prepared. It seemed like it would be a pretty good blog post, so I thought I'd kill two birds with one stone. Hope it all makes sense.
I'll actually start with paraphrasing a little story he told.
There are these two guys sitting in a bar in the remote Alaskan wilderness. One is religious, the other's an Atheist, and they start arguing about the existence of God with a special intensity that comes after a certain level of inebriation. Finally, the Atheist gets frustrated and says, "Look, man, it's not like I haven't tried the whole God, and prayer thing. In fact, just a few weeks ago I was stuck in that terrible blizzard and I couldn't see a thing, so I dropped to my knees and cried out, 'Oh, God, if there is a God, I'm lost and alone in this blizzard and I'm going to die if you don't help me.'" At this, the religious guy says, "Well, there you go, you must believe now, because here you are, alive." The Atheist just scoffed, "No, man, God didn't save me. There was a group of passing Eskimos who happened to be walking by and found me, and helped me get back to camp."
It's really easy for a big group of believers like us to laugh at this Atheist. It seems obvious in our minds why the group of Eskimos happened upon the Atheist in the blizzard, but I'd like to discuss today the idea of belief, where it comes from, and posit to you the idea that the Atheist really isn't so much different than you or I.
Faith is described in Hebrews as, "...the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." So, faith is something that comes from things hoped for, not necessarily thing known. But what is the substance Paul speaks of?
I think Alma lets us know when he lays out how to develop faith, " 27 But behold, if ye will awake and arouse your faculties, even to an experiment upon my words, and exercise a particle of faith, yea, even if ye can no more than desire to believe, let this desire work in you, even until ye believe in a manner that ye can give place for a portion of my words.
28 Now, we will compare the word unto a seed. Now, if ye give place, that a seed may be planted in your heart, behold, if it be a true seed, or a good seed, if ye do not cast it out by your unbelief, that ye will resist the Spirit of the Lord, behold, it will begin to swell within your breasts; and when you feel these swelling motions, ye will begin to say within yourselves—It must needs be that this is a good seed, or that the word is good, for it beginneth to enlarge my soul; yea, it beginneth to enlighten my understanding, yea, it beginneth to be delicious to me.
29 Now behold, would not this increase your faith? I say unto you, Yea; nevertheless it hath not grown up to a perfect knowledge."
28 Now, we will compare the word unto a seed. Now, if ye give place, that a seed may be planted in your heart, behold, if it be a true seed, or a good seed, if ye do not cast it out by your unbelief, that ye will resist the Spirit of the Lord, behold, it will begin to swell within your breasts; and when you feel these swelling motions, ye will begin to say within yourselves—It must needs be that this is a good seed, or that the word is good, for it beginneth to enlarge my soul; yea, it beginneth to enlighten my understanding, yea, it beginneth to be delicious to me.
29 Now behold, would not this increase your faith? I say unto you, Yea; nevertheless it hath not grown up to a perfect knowledge."
So, first we choose to believe, then we work as if what we believe is true, and see what comes of it. The work is the substance. The work is the evidence. The work is faith. Our acting on our beliefs is what faith is, but when I was told to "talk on whatever you want" (a decision the Bishopric may regret after hearing my talk) I didn't choose to talk about faith, I chose to talk about its predecessor: belief. Because I think understanding that principle has helped me come so much closer to God, closer to the church, and helped me understand those not of our faith.
The best way I know to illustrate this principle is by telling you a few vignettes of how I came to believe.
When I was young, I went to church every Sunday. On one particular Sunday, when I was ten or so, my teacher gave a lesson on the atonement of Jesus Christ. I don't remember what they said, or even who they were, but I remember thinking, "Jesus, who could have stopped it, chose to die for me." Even talking about it today gives me a feeling like nothing else dose. It's a rush of emotion, a shortness of breath, a gratitude. I remember going home in tears and explaining what happened to my parents, who showed me some of their favorite hymns about the atonement, and shared with me that they had similar feelings. It was my first remembered experience with believing. I believed, that day, that Jesus chose to die for me. It's a feeling I'v never gotten rid of.
When I was fourteen, or so, I felt something similar to one of my favorite Abraham Lincoln quotes:
"I have been driven many times upon my knees by the overwhelming conviction that I had no where else to go." I was supposed to get a cavity filled, was in the waiting room, and felt I had nowhere else to turn. So I begged God that I wouldn't have to get my cavity filled. As it turns out, my name was supposed to be on the calendar, I mean, my mom set the appointment, but my name was not there, and they were packed. I didn't get my cavity filled that day, or the next time we went in and I prayed. The third time, I didn't pray, and got it filled. I believed that God answered my prayer, not once, but twice.
In my teenage years, I won't say I 'fell away', but the whole God and Jesus thing just didn't appeal to me. I still went to church and I never really stopped 'believing', but, let's just say the 'substance for my hope' wasn't very compelling. At this time I also suffered some pretty serious depression. I honestly thought no one loved, or cared about me. It was at this time that I went to get my patriarchal blessing. Patriarch Peay put his hands on my head and the first thing he told me was that God was aware of me and that He loved me. I felt a warmth surround me. An unseen pair of arms, and I sobbed in the Patriarch's living room. In that moment, I believed in God. It seemed obvious to me that He was there. How else would the Patriarch know to say that, let alone how would I feel arms around me, but not see them?
I wish I could say I turned that belief into action, but if I did, I'd be lying. I went through the rest of high school believing God existed, but not really acting on it, not until I turned 19 and finally started thinking seriously about going on a mission. I wasn't sure if I wanted to go. If I'm being honest, I didn't see a difference between our church and other Christian churches. Why would we spend two years talking to Christians about our church? Why would God want me to go? So, I prayed about it. I mean, if God can get me out of dental work, He should be able to let me know if He wants me to go on a mission, right? And there came a strong thought to my mind: You know it's right to go. So, go. In my opinion, a thought that never would have come to my mind. So, I went, and I found out why our church is different.
I have lots of stories like this, but, if you'll indulge me, I'd like to tell you about just one more. A couple of years ago my incredible wife gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. I was a father. And, as I held our baby in my arms, and looked into her great big eyes, I felt as if I was looking into the face of God. There was a warmth, and a joy, and a gratitude that was very much out of the ordinary. She had her own personality, and curiosity from the moment she came into this world. I believed, in that moment, more than in any other, that we lived before we came here.
Like I said, I've had many other experiences that have led me to believe in the Gospel of Jesus Christ and the Doctrine of the LDS church, but I do only have so much time. These experiences, and the fact that I can't seem to keep my mouth shut, led me to get into a great many arguments on the internet with Atheists. I knew what I was saying was true. I'd had experiences, that proved, at least to me, that they were true, and if those Atheists would just take Alma's advice and experiment then they'd believe too. I did this for years, until I finally started listening instead of talking.
And that's when I found "This is Water". David Foster Wallace laid out, with the story I told in the beginning and others how belief is a choice. That the reason why people of different denominations can't seem to get along is that they are absolutely certain that the way they see the world is the right way and everyone else is completely blind. That the big choice we can make in life is what to believe in. Now, considering I'd read Hebrews and Alma many times, I probably should have already known this, but I didn't. Paul and Alma had already explained to me that what I believed in could only be seen through the actions of others who believed in it, that they were things I hoped for, and that it was my choice to not 'cast them out by my unbelief'. It was my choice to believe, and that proving God to anyone was futile, because our belief was a choice. We choose to assign meaning to our experiences.
For example. Maybe I only felt those things when I was ten because that's what I was supposed to believe. Maybe true or not, once we think about someone giving up something amazing for us we feel a sense of love and gratitude. Maybe "You know it's right to go. So, go." Is something I would think to myself. And, I know this is going to shake some of you, maybe there was just a scheduling mix up twice in a row at the dentist because they were in the middle of training someone and she's the one who made the appointments. You know, maybe the Eskimos would have passed by that guy whether he prayed or not.
This idea stuck with me and made me wonder if I could stay in the church. I know that's shocking, but this was my logic: if I don't really know. If I can't really know, then how can I keep doing this? How can I give ten percent to an organization that I don't know is God's? How can I raise my girl with a set of doctrines that I can't prove? As President Uchtodorf said, "Some struggle with unanswered questions about things that have been done or said in the past. We openly acknowledge that in nearly 200 years of Church history—along with an uninterrupted line of inspired, honorable, and divine events—there have been some things said and done that could cause people to question." Only, my question wasn't about something that happened, it was about the whole thing. Was any of it true? Was there any way I could know?
For several months I listened to "This is Water" over and over again, I finally, really heard something else he'd said, "...in the day-to-day trenches of adult life, there is actually no such thing as atheism. There is no such thing as not worshipping. Everybody worships. The only choice we get is what to worship. And the compelling reason for maybe choosing some sort of god or spiritual-type thing to worship--be it JC or Allah, be it YHWH or the Wiccan Mother Goddess, or the Four Noble Truths, or some inviolable set of ethical principles--is that pretty much anything else you worship will eat you alive. If you worship money and things, if they are where you tap real meaning in life, then you will never have enough, never feel you have enough. It's the truth. Worship your body and beauty and sexual allure and you will always feel ugly. And when time and age start showing, you will die a million deaths before they finally plant you...Worship power, you will end up feeling weak and afraid, and you will need ever more power over others to numb you to your own fear. Worship your intellect, being seen as smart, you will end up feeling stupid, a fraud, always on the verge of being found out."
I didn't "know" the church was God's, but there were things I did know. I knew that when I went to church, when I followed the doctrines, when I believed, I was slowly becoming the man I hoped to be. Brielle's family is probably tired of hearing about him, but I want to be like my Great Grandpa Paul. He was giving, loving, hard working, community minded, and kind. And, he was almost completely deaf by the time he died, but in his later years he kept going to church, and one Sunday someone asked him what the talks in church were about that day. He said he didn't know, he couldn't hear. Then why do you go, the person asked. He answered, because that's where my family is, and where my family is is where I want to be. I may not know, but like him, with my family, moving in a direction to be the man I want to be, is where I want to be, and this church does that for me.
That wasn't the end of my journey though, because, like my mouth, I can't seem to get my mind to quit going either. And I heard so many people say in Fast and Testimony meeting that they "knew". They "knew" so many things that I couldn't say that I knew. Did I belong in an organization with so many who "knew"? It was literally a few weeks after thinking this that I heard Elder Holland speak in General Conference. "I said I was speaking to the young. I still am. A 14-year-old boy recently said to me a little hesitantly, “Brother Holland, I can’t say yet that I know the Church is true, but I believe it is.” I hugged that boy until his eyes bulged out. I told him with all the fervor of my soul that belief is a precious word, an even more precious act, and he need never apologize for “only believing.” I told him that Christ Himself said, “Be not afraid, only believe,” a phrase which, by the way, carried young Gordon B. Hinckley into the mission field. I told this boy that belief was always the first step toward conviction and that the definitive articles of our collective faith forcefully reiterate the phrase “We believe.” And I told him how very proud I was of him for the honesty of his quest."
It was okay that I didn't know. I believed, and not only was belief enough, it was a precious thing. People had done great things because they believed, and I could too. I belonged in this church even if I did not know. And I believe that I always will belong, so long as it keeps helping me become the man that I would like to be, and even more importantly, the man I believe God wants me to be.
Now, I'm a big believer in the "so what" of talks. Meaning, I've given you a bunch of scriptures, quotes, and my own ramblings to glue them together, but so what? What am I hoping to really convey? If someone were to ask me, "What should I get out of your talk?" What would I tell them?
If you're someone who hasn't had these questions, please don't think that my questioning came from the devil, because I can tell you that my resolve to follow the teachings of the Savior is stronger than it has ever been, because I questioned. Because I realized that I cannot prove my belief to myself or anyone else, and that means that no amount of evidence against the church will keep me from living in this way, because it is so good for me and my family. I'm not saying you need to start questioning, just that it helped me.
If you're like me, know that you're not alone. I can't say that I know either, and, at least according to Elder Holland, that's okay. You and I, we belong here in this church. Like I told a friend who, after finding out his wife was pregnant, was thinking about maybe getting back into the church, but wasn't sure if he really believed: True or not, the gospel teaches a good lifestyle. Doesn't it help a family to stay away from drinking and drugs? Doesn't it help a family to take one day out of the week and spend that day almost entirely together? Doesn't it help a family to believe their relationships last longer than just this life? Doesn't it help a father to believe that the effects of his parenting will last long after this life? 110% true or not, it's a good place for us to be.
And for all of us believers, I hoped that my journey through doubt will help us see those of different beliefs with a little more understanding. As President Uchtdorf said, "One might ask, “If the gospel is so wonderful, why would anyone leave?”
Sometimes we assume it is because they have been offended or lazy or sinful. Actually, it is not that simple. In fact, there is not just one reason that applies to the variety of situations."
I wasn't offended, or sinful, or lazy, but questioning. I sincerely wanted to know what I should do, and there are thousands like me. Some come to my same conclusion, and some come to others. My own journey has led me to listen to their stories. All of them were good people doing what they felt was right, and I couldn't help but respect that.
Which is what made this quote from President Uchtdorf stand out so much to me: "In this Church that honors personal agency so strongly, that was restored by a young man who asked questions and sought answers, we respect those who honestly search for truth. It may break our hearts when their journey takes them away from the Church we love and the truth we have found, but we honor their right to worship Almighty God according to the dictates of their own conscience, just as we claim that privilege for ourselves."
Which is what made this quote from President Uchtdorf stand out so much to me: "In this Church that honors personal agency so strongly, that was restored by a young man who asked questions and sought answers, we respect those who honestly search for truth. It may break our hearts when their journey takes them away from the Church we love and the truth we have found, but we honor their right to worship Almighty God according to the dictates of their own conscience, just as we claim that privilege for ourselves."
I believe there is a God. I believe that He watches over and loves us. I believe families are ordained of God, my evidence for that comes mostly from my wife, whose faith is so much stronger than mine, but has been so very christlike and patient with me and my questions. I believe this church was created by God, mostly because whenever I follow its teachings I get closer to being the man I hope to one day be. I believe that Jesus is our friend and savior. Whenever I say it, whenever I think about it, I get a feeling that I simply cannot deny.
And it's in His name that I leave this with you. Amen.
Monday, November 25, 2013
His Name is Bingo
June is eating her french toast sticks while I sit on the computer, when she walks up to me.
"My pet is right over there."
I look into the living room where she's pointing. "Right over there."
"Yep."
"What kind of pet is it?"
"A doggie."
"What's its name?"
"Bingo" I seriously didn't even see where this was going.
"That's a good name for a dog. What color is it?"
"It's gray." Her hands are now stretched out as if she has her hands on a little Jack Russel.
"Oh, yeah. How big is it."
"It's BIG." Her hands get wider and higher. "He's very tall."
"Oh, he seems tall." My hands go up with hers.
"Yeah. And will you sing with me?"
"What? What do you want me to sing?"
"Sing it with me."
"I'm sorry hon, I really don't know what you want me to sing."
"Once a farmer had a dog, and Bingo was his name-o. B-I-N-G-O. B-I-N-G-O. B-I-N-G-O. And Bingo was his name-o." To which she ran back to her breakfast.
Punked by my two-year-old. I've got to work on this before she gets to be a teenager.
"My pet is right over there."
I look into the living room where she's pointing. "Right over there."
"Yep."
"What kind of pet is it?"
"A doggie."
"What's its name?"
"Bingo" I seriously didn't even see where this was going.
"That's a good name for a dog. What color is it?"
"It's gray." Her hands are now stretched out as if she has her hands on a little Jack Russel.
"Oh, yeah. How big is it."
"It's BIG." Her hands get wider and higher. "He's very tall."
"Oh, he seems tall." My hands go up with hers.
"Yeah. And will you sing with me?"
"What? What do you want me to sing?"
"Sing it with me."
"I'm sorry hon, I really don't know what you want me to sing."
"Once a farmer had a dog, and Bingo was his name-o. B-I-N-G-O. B-I-N-G-O. B-I-N-G-O. And Bingo was his name-o." To which she ran back to her breakfast.
Punked by my two-year-old. I've got to work on this before she gets to be a teenager.
Thursday, November 14, 2013
Why I Can't Sign the Opt-In Porn Petition
I know that my posts lately have been little vignettes about June and that they've been really fun, but I have decided to do something a little more serious tonight.
Over the past few weeks I've seen this link, petitioning the White House to require porn to be an "opt in" feature with internet service providers rather than a standard feature, on my facebook feed several times, and after some thought, I've decided I can't sign it.
Now, at first (like I assume many of you were), I was really excited to see it. I'm LDS, if you don't know our stance on porn you can look here. I'm also someone who believes pornography as degrading to women and men, and that it contributes to the very odd way our society thinks about sex. I'm against it. So, I thought, "Hey, if we get enough people to sign this we won't have to worry about porn on our computers in the future."
And then I thought, what does this actually mean? What would this petition do? And I came to the realization that I was against it for the same reason I'm against Obamacare. And because I have a blog and an opinion, I feel the need to share.
The reasons I don't like Obamacare isn't because I hate people, or like people to be sick, or enjoy the idea of people going bankrupt because of medical bills. I'm against it because of how I (and, I would argue, America's Founding Fathers) think the Federal Government should run. I don't think they should have anything more to do with the private sector than make sure they aren't poisoning us and aren't abusing their employees. I certainly don't think they should have the power to force companies to offer services. Them forcing companies to do so either force taxpayers to compensate the companies for this loss, or forces the companies to pass that cost onto the consumer (hey, we get to pay for it no matter what!). Obamacare forces companies to do things that are not cost effective, and forces us as consumers to pay the difference. The government needs to say out of it.
Now, what I find really interesting about the petition I linked is that those who are posting it are often the same people who have posted "Anti-Obamacare" memes and articles, but I really don't see a difference between the two. Both are (allegedly) for the purpose of protecting people, especially children. Obamacare is to protect people from crippling healthcare debt and the petition is to protect people from stumbling upon hurtful porn (again, this isn't to argue if porn does or does not hurt people, suffice it to say I believe it does). Both of these are ideas people can get behind. But that isn't where their similarities end. Both would force companies to offer services without any compensation. Both put the government's hands in one more thing (giving them the ability to screw it up). Both hurt companies, especially start up companies (imagine trying to start an internet service company with the responsibility of making sure porn doesn't pop-up on 'opt out' computers). Both are one more expense to try and fit into our already very unbalanced budget.
I hate porn as much as the next guy, but our Federal Government needs to get smaller, not bigger.
Now, maybe you're one of my friends that I'm talking about, but see a difference between the two that I don't. Please let me know in the comments on here or on facebook. Maybe there's something I'm missing. Please let me know.
Even if you can't articulate why you think they are different, know that I don't hate you (or even think you're stupid). I still love you and respect you; we just disagree, and that's fine.
To both groups, I'm actually kind of happy (in a way) that this petition exists. Hopefully internet service providers see it and offer this service for a fee (assuming it works better than a filter). I, for one, would gladly pay a little extra to keep porn off my computers, but I have to be honest and say that I hope it doesn't get any further than the petition.
If you agree with me (or are just for meaningful conversation about government's role in our lives) please share. Thanks in advance.
Over the past few weeks I've seen this link, petitioning the White House to require porn to be an "opt in" feature with internet service providers rather than a standard feature, on my facebook feed several times, and after some thought, I've decided I can't sign it.
Now, at first (like I assume many of you were), I was really excited to see it. I'm LDS, if you don't know our stance on porn you can look here. I'm also someone who believes pornography as degrading to women and men, and that it contributes to the very odd way our society thinks about sex. I'm against it. So, I thought, "Hey, if we get enough people to sign this we won't have to worry about porn on our computers in the future."
And then I thought, what does this actually mean? What would this petition do? And I came to the realization that I was against it for the same reason I'm against Obamacare. And because I have a blog and an opinion, I feel the need to share.
The reasons I don't like Obamacare isn't because I hate people, or like people to be sick, or enjoy the idea of people going bankrupt because of medical bills. I'm against it because of how I (and, I would argue, America's Founding Fathers) think the Federal Government should run. I don't think they should have anything more to do with the private sector than make sure they aren't poisoning us and aren't abusing their employees. I certainly don't think they should have the power to force companies to offer services. Them forcing companies to do so either force taxpayers to compensate the companies for this loss, or forces the companies to pass that cost onto the consumer (hey, we get to pay for it no matter what!). Obamacare forces companies to do things that are not cost effective, and forces us as consumers to pay the difference. The government needs to say out of it.
Now, what I find really interesting about the petition I linked is that those who are posting it are often the same people who have posted "Anti-Obamacare" memes and articles, but I really don't see a difference between the two. Both are (allegedly) for the purpose of protecting people, especially children. Obamacare is to protect people from crippling healthcare debt and the petition is to protect people from stumbling upon hurtful porn (again, this isn't to argue if porn does or does not hurt people, suffice it to say I believe it does). Both of these are ideas people can get behind. But that isn't where their similarities end. Both would force companies to offer services without any compensation. Both put the government's hands in one more thing (giving them the ability to screw it up). Both hurt companies, especially start up companies (imagine trying to start an internet service company with the responsibility of making sure porn doesn't pop-up on 'opt out' computers). Both are one more expense to try and fit into our already very unbalanced budget.
I hate porn as much as the next guy, but our Federal Government needs to get smaller, not bigger.
Now, maybe you're one of my friends that I'm talking about, but see a difference between the two that I don't. Please let me know in the comments on here or on facebook. Maybe there's something I'm missing. Please let me know.
Even if you can't articulate why you think they are different, know that I don't hate you (or even think you're stupid). I still love you and respect you; we just disagree, and that's fine.
To both groups, I'm actually kind of happy (in a way) that this petition exists. Hopefully internet service providers see it and offer this service for a fee (assuming it works better than a filter). I, for one, would gladly pay a little extra to keep porn off my computers, but I have to be honest and say that I hope it doesn't get any further than the petition.
If you agree with me (or are just for meaningful conversation about government's role in our lives) please share. Thanks in advance.
Tuesday, October 15, 2013
And on the Docket Today: Destroying One of my Daughter's Dreams
I hurt my back about a week ago... again. Well, I don't think I rehurniated the disk or anything, but I tweaked it (not to be confused with twerked). So, I've spent the better part of the last week on my back playing Diablo III on my Xbox (my wife got it for me, you should be jealous).
It's close to being back to normal (hence, why I'm able to blog), but I was still on my back playing this afternoon while my daughter watched Barney on the Kindle. While watching a loading screen I looked over and saw June standing with her toes at the edge of the Kindle with her fingers grabbing those toes. This brought on a question I ask her at least once a day, "June, what are you doing?"
"I'm going to jump into the book. I'm going to jump into Barney."
"No, no. June, it's super fun to see people jump into books on shows, but if you do this all you will do is break the Kindle. Please don't try it."
She looked befuddled. It was obvious she'd seen this several times performed by various people. Why couldn't she do it? "Okay."
"Sorry. Do you want to check the fire with me?"
"Yeah!"
I'm sure it won't destroy her forever, but I wish I was one of those super creative dads who knew how to make her dream real without destroying a tablet in the process. As it turns out, all I did was reinforce her lover for building fires...
I messed up bad today, didn't I?
P.S.
As I wrote this I heard a clatter in the kitchen and my wife yelling, "No June, those are Grandma's knives! We don't touch knives!"
So there's your piece of sage advice from my wife today: We don't touch knives.
It's close to being back to normal (hence, why I'm able to blog), but I was still on my back playing this afternoon while my daughter watched Barney on the Kindle. While watching a loading screen I looked over and saw June standing with her toes at the edge of the Kindle with her fingers grabbing those toes. This brought on a question I ask her at least once a day, "June, what are you doing?"
"I'm going to jump into the book. I'm going to jump into Barney."
"No, no. June, it's super fun to see people jump into books on shows, but if you do this all you will do is break the Kindle. Please don't try it."
She looked befuddled. It was obvious she'd seen this several times performed by various people. Why couldn't she do it? "Okay."
"Sorry. Do you want to check the fire with me?"
"Yeah!"
I'm sure it won't destroy her forever, but I wish I was one of those super creative dads who knew how to make her dream real without destroying a tablet in the process. As it turns out, all I did was reinforce her lover for building fires...
I messed up bad today, didn't I?
P.S.
As I wrote this I heard a clatter in the kitchen and my wife yelling, "No June, those are Grandma's knives! We don't touch knives!"
So there's your piece of sage advice from my wife today: We don't touch knives.
Monday, October 7, 2013
It Smells Like... Poop
We've been potty training June for a while now. Months, in fact. We've tried a few different approaches with varying levels of success and a couple of months ago things were going well. Did she still pee in her diaper? Yeah, she did, but she didn't poop in them anymore.
And this was great with us. Did we want her to pee in the toilet? Absolutely, but if she didn't feel it, she didn't feel it. We don't wan to put expectations on her that she literally can't live up to, that's not fun for anyone. Along with that, I don't mind the peed in diapers. Easy off. Easy in the garbage. No real smell. I can change those all day long.
But the poop ones, those are a different story. You have to wipe a bunch and it smells awful, and when she started pooping on the toilet I was a happy guy.
Well, I was not so happy yesterday. I was near her and smelled a horrible smell. Yep, she'd went poop in her diaper. As I changed her we had a long talk about how I don't like cleaning up poop, and how it smells yucky, and how if she did it again she was going to time-out.
As sure as the sun sets in the west, she pooped in her diaper again today. So, she got time-out, and I had the brilliant idea to let her smell her diaper so she could smell what I smelled every time I changed a stinky one. Her reaction: Big inhale, "It smells like... poop. Yummy." The giggle that followed let me know I'd been gotten the best of. The next 16 years are going to be hard. Pray for me.
And this was great with us. Did we want her to pee in the toilet? Absolutely, but if she didn't feel it, she didn't feel it. We don't wan to put expectations on her that she literally can't live up to, that's not fun for anyone. Along with that, I don't mind the peed in diapers. Easy off. Easy in the garbage. No real smell. I can change those all day long.
But the poop ones, those are a different story. You have to wipe a bunch and it smells awful, and when she started pooping on the toilet I was a happy guy.
Well, I was not so happy yesterday. I was near her and smelled a horrible smell. Yep, she'd went poop in her diaper. As I changed her we had a long talk about how I don't like cleaning up poop, and how it smells yucky, and how if she did it again she was going to time-out.
As sure as the sun sets in the west, she pooped in her diaper again today. So, she got time-out, and I had the brilliant idea to let her smell her diaper so she could smell what I smelled every time I changed a stinky one. Her reaction: Big inhale, "It smells like... poop. Yummy." The giggle that followed let me know I'd been gotten the best of. The next 16 years are going to be hard. Pray for me.
Friday, October 4, 2013
Olly Olly Oxen Free
I'm sitting at the computer checking my facebook when I look up to see June (my daughter) climbing off her barstool. "What are you doing?"
No answer. She continues to walk through the kitchen to hide in a little nook in front of the pantry. "Are you hiding? If you're hiding and Dad finds you he'll get you with tickles."
No answer. Okay, so this is a pretty regular game for us. June really likes hiding, well, let me be more honest, she likes people looking for her and calling her name and has found that hiding gives her that. Up to this point, we've been lucky. She's not particularly good at finding good spots. The scary part is she is SUPER good at holding very, very still and being very, very quiet. One day she'll find the good spots and we'll be in trouble.
After waiting a while I finally go over to the nook. There she sits, her turquoise, polka dotted, footsie pajamas topped by her mess of blond hair and hands holding two pink apron ties up to her eyes. "Where is that June-bug? Is she behind the blue apron?" I pretend to look and she suppresses laughter. "Nope, not behind the blue one... is she behind the pink one?" I pull on the ties but June has them in a death grip. "My, the strings sure are heavy... and hey, there are two little hands holding on to them. What's behind those hands? It's a June-bug." I then tickle her on the ribs and below the chin while she giggles in my arms.
"Okay, Dad. You hide. You have to hold the strings and put them to your eyes." I hold them and peek out at her while she walks around. "Is Dad over here? Nope. Is Dad behind the blue one? Nope, not behind the blue one. Is Dad by this machine (not making this up, she said that while looking at the Kitchen Aid behind me). Nope, not by the machine. If I turn these nobs (on the toaster). Nope." She proceeded to climb over me to get to the cookies, but only made it about half way. "Is he in here? Nope, not in here (meaning, inside the box of cookies). Is he behind the pink one? There's Dad! Tickle tickle." As tiny fingers moved beneath my chin. It's not too bad being Dad.
No answer. She continues to walk through the kitchen to hide in a little nook in front of the pantry. "Are you hiding? If you're hiding and Dad finds you he'll get you with tickles."
No answer. Okay, so this is a pretty regular game for us. June really likes hiding, well, let me be more honest, she likes people looking for her and calling her name and has found that hiding gives her that. Up to this point, we've been lucky. She's not particularly good at finding good spots. The scary part is she is SUPER good at holding very, very still and being very, very quiet. One day she'll find the good spots and we'll be in trouble.
After waiting a while I finally go over to the nook. There she sits, her turquoise, polka dotted, footsie pajamas topped by her mess of blond hair and hands holding two pink apron ties up to her eyes. "Where is that June-bug? Is she behind the blue apron?" I pretend to look and she suppresses laughter. "Nope, not behind the blue one... is she behind the pink one?" I pull on the ties but June has them in a death grip. "My, the strings sure are heavy... and hey, there are two little hands holding on to them. What's behind those hands? It's a June-bug." I then tickle her on the ribs and below the chin while she giggles in my arms.
"Okay, Dad. You hide. You have to hold the strings and put them to your eyes." I hold them and peek out at her while she walks around. "Is Dad over here? Nope. Is Dad behind the blue one? Nope, not behind the blue one. Is Dad by this machine (not making this up, she said that while looking at the Kitchen Aid behind me). Nope, not by the machine. If I turn these nobs (on the toaster). Nope." She proceeded to climb over me to get to the cookies, but only made it about half way. "Is he in here? Nope, not in here (meaning, inside the box of cookies). Is he behind the pink one? There's Dad! Tickle tickle." As tiny fingers moved beneath my chin. It's not too bad being Dad.
Thursday, September 26, 2013
What's to My Right?
It happened again this morning. It's happened every morning for about three weeks (or more), but today was especially bad. My eyelids lifted to the grinding of our alarm clock and my wife mumbling, "Paul, are you getting up? It's 7:03." I tried to lift my head and my neck let me know, in no uncertain terms, that my moving was not going to fly. I tried again and pushed through my body's protests. "I don't think so, my neck is killing me." "Oh, okay."
I tried going back to sleep with my neck in a better position, but the pain was so lopsided that I couldn't be sure if my neck was straight. Every time I tried to readjust it would only feel more like my head was leaning to one side or the other.
Finally, in frustration and agony, I got up, slathered on some Icy Hot and put the long bean bag in the microwave. And sat in front of my television, trying to keep my neck as still as I possibly could while occasionally rubbing it. Eventually, it got a little better. Better enough for me to freeze some peaches, so long as I moved my body and not my head, but I still don't feel good enough to go running. I can't imagine it would actually do any damage to run, but it sure feels like it would, which makes me think I'll not go through the pain and just eat a little less today. Anyone know any cures to morning neck aches, because they seem to be getting worse instead of better and it's getting old.
I tried going back to sleep with my neck in a better position, but the pain was so lopsided that I couldn't be sure if my neck was straight. Every time I tried to readjust it would only feel more like my head was leaning to one side or the other.
Finally, in frustration and agony, I got up, slathered on some Icy Hot and put the long bean bag in the microwave. And sat in front of my television, trying to keep my neck as still as I possibly could while occasionally rubbing it. Eventually, it got a little better. Better enough for me to freeze some peaches, so long as I moved my body and not my head, but I still don't feel good enough to go running. I can't imagine it would actually do any damage to run, but it sure feels like it would, which makes me think I'll not go through the pain and just eat a little less today. Anyone know any cures to morning neck aches, because they seem to be getting worse instead of better and it's getting old.
Tuesday, September 24, 2013
I'm a Heartless Murderer
I've been approached by a couple of people (my mom and sister) who said they want me to start blogging again. What about you ask? My daily/weekly life. I told them it was boring, but they said that's what they wanted to read... so here it goes.
When I was on my two year religious sabbatical I gained a firm belief in God and his love for His creations. Even down to centipedes that we found in our shower who I took outside in a cup to set free, and spiders, to which, if they didn't crawl on me, I also released into the wild. I'm still a pretty firm believer in that. I believe life, all life, is precious, and I want to defend it... except for flies.
I went out into the mud room to weigh myself (trying to lose weight so I don't hurt my back again) and found - I would guess - 50 flies on the window of the door going outside. I immediately turned around, closed the door found the fly swatter (a tool that was made for literally one purpose), went back out and began hacking away like a blind-folded kid swings at a pinata. When they were all gone from the window (who knows how many I actually hit) I turned to the ceiling, where I assume several went for refuge, then I was more like a little-leaguer swinging at balls well above the strike zone. Back to the window, back to the ceiling, window, ceiling, window, ceiling, until none flew around me anymore. Up to this point I'd only been working with the light coming in through the window, so I turned on the incandescent and found several more that I missed, "swing away, Paul! Swing away!". I didn't count, but the floor was littered with flies.
Somewhere in the frenzy, and especially after I'd seen my handiwork, I thought, "Why don't I care about flies?" I care about spiders, centipedes, humans, and even small dogs to a degree. Why don't I care about flies? They help in keeping our planet from filling up with waste, they have very short lives, and I really don't think they cause as much disease as we all think they do. And still, I killed dozens of them today in the mud room, basically a mass-murder, and I feel nothing. Let's just say that if God cares a great deal about flies' lives, I'm pretty much screwed, but I'm pretty sure all of you are too, so I'll have company.
See you two, boring.
When I was on my two year religious sabbatical I gained a firm belief in God and his love for His creations. Even down to centipedes that we found in our shower who I took outside in a cup to set free, and spiders, to which, if they didn't crawl on me, I also released into the wild. I'm still a pretty firm believer in that. I believe life, all life, is precious, and I want to defend it... except for flies.
I went out into the mud room to weigh myself (trying to lose weight so I don't hurt my back again) and found - I would guess - 50 flies on the window of the door going outside. I immediately turned around, closed the door found the fly swatter (a tool that was made for literally one purpose), went back out and began hacking away like a blind-folded kid swings at a pinata. When they were all gone from the window (who knows how many I actually hit) I turned to the ceiling, where I assume several went for refuge, then I was more like a little-leaguer swinging at balls well above the strike zone. Back to the window, back to the ceiling, window, ceiling, window, ceiling, until none flew around me anymore. Up to this point I'd only been working with the light coming in through the window, so I turned on the incandescent and found several more that I missed, "swing away, Paul! Swing away!". I didn't count, but the floor was littered with flies.
Somewhere in the frenzy, and especially after I'd seen my handiwork, I thought, "Why don't I care about flies?" I care about spiders, centipedes, humans, and even small dogs to a degree. Why don't I care about flies? They help in keeping our planet from filling up with waste, they have very short lives, and I really don't think they cause as much disease as we all think they do. And still, I killed dozens of them today in the mud room, basically a mass-murder, and I feel nothing. Let's just say that if God cares a great deal about flies' lives, I'm pretty much screwed, but I'm pretty sure all of you are too, so I'll have company.
See you two, boring.
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
The True Gamer
So, what is a 'True Gamer'? How often do they play? What do they play, and maybe more importantly, what don't they play? What hardware do they use? How long do they have to have played to be in the 'True Gamer' club? Super Nintendo? Earlier? Should they have to know about Indie games, or are the heavy-hitters enough? Does genre, difficulty setting, multi-player or single player matter? If you don't play Dark Souls are you even in the running? And the question I'd really like to put forward with this post: Why do we care?
I've been heavily gaming for about two years now. I'm talking a few dozen games, most of which I've beat, some I've beat multiple times, several forums about specific games and gaming in general, listening to developer interviews, spending a good deal of time on Gamespot, and a program on my computer called Raptr that tracks my gaming progress. And in these two years I've noticed something about the gaming community as a whole that baffles me: Elitism.
I would say that the majority of people whose sole or primary form of entertainment is playing video games have an earned stereotype (I can say this because I've earned it too). We were outcasts in school because we were interested in things that no one else was. When we talked we noticed that no one knew what we were talking about (both about entertainment and academia) and how we noticed it was that people would make comments about how they didn't know what we were talking about, to which most people would laugh. Those of us in this category did one of two things, either we kept talking how we wanted and told ourselves we were just smarter than most people (though the ridicule got worse as time passed and while our minds felt superior, our hearts sure didn't), or we realized that people don't like smart people and dumbed ourselves down so we wouldn't be made fun or anymore, hiding our real interests from everyone except our true friends (this was me). It was like people were part of these clubs that we were either not invited to, or that we faked our way into and then felt uncomfortable once there, because we could tell our kind weren't supposed to be there. It was a struggle, or at least it was for me.
And then, after I got married, I found gaming, and more importantly, I found gamers on the internet. It was like all of us found each other and became friends online. There weren't many of us in our own communities, but when we made a worldwide community there were really a lot of us, and that idea intrigued me. Finally, a large group of people who shared my interests and knew what I was talking about, and it wasn't just my group of friends I was honest with, there were a bunch of them.
After a few months though, I noticed how little gamers learned from high school. I started seeing cliques. The first I noticed were the hardware cliques (mostly PC vs. Console). "Games are made for consoles, which are really just old computers so we never get to use our rigs to their full capabilities." "Consoles are for casual gamers." ('casual gamer' is an insult in the gaming community) and, "Real gamers play on PCs." I was originally a console gamer, I have some games on the PC, but when it comes to shooters, I need my paddle, I just do. So console gamers would come back with "If it wasn't for consoles we wouldn't have the quality of games we have because there wouldn't be as much money in the industry." "People with PCs just need to stop getting such powerful rigs, as it's obvious they don't need them for the games that exist." but I never heard console gamers say PC gamers weren't 'True Gamers', but I think that comes from the fact that games started on the PC.
Which leads into the next clique: "'True Gamers' have been playing since Atari." or Nintendo, or Super Nintendo, or started on the PC and have never left it. Somehow, having played for twenty years just makes you better than other people, kind of like being Vegan. It just makes you better.
Then there are the genre wars. Mostly it's people saying that those who play Call of Duty (or other multi-player shooters) aren't real gamers, even if they play something else. The other big one is making fun of those who play facebook games because, you know, they aren't 'real games'.
I could go on, but my favorite are the Dark Souls/Deamon Souls players. If you don't play and enjoy that game you aren't a 'True Gamer' in their minds. I don't know what it is about that fan base, but I remember staying away from that game literally because the fans were so bat crap crazy that I didn't want to be numbered with them. I've decided to try it eventually, but if you talked about any other game to any of them it was as if you were a twelve year old boy in Victoria's Secret, you just didn't belong talking to the grown ups about video games.
It's all so childish though. It's as though we've finally found our way into a club we belong in and what's the first thing we do? Try to keep as many people out as possible, by saying they aren't as good as the rest of us because of what they play, or how often they play, or that they don't play every single game on the hardest difficulty possible. Don't we remember what that was like? They mention a game on facebook and because that's not our cup of tea we make sure they feel like they don't belong, or because they haven't spent hours reading every book in all of Skyrim they aren't really playing the game. Why aren't we better than this? Why can't we seem to be better than this? A gamer is anyone who enjoys playing video games with some or all of their free time. We all have different tastes, and that's okay. All of our tastes are valid, and all are invited to enjoy at least a facet of our past time. It's brought us a lot of happiness, and we believe it can bring others happiness too. So, lets invite them in, and make them feel welcomed instead of shunned. I know we can do it, and we owe it to our fifteen year old selves to at least try.
I've been heavily gaming for about two years now. I'm talking a few dozen games, most of which I've beat, some I've beat multiple times, several forums about specific games and gaming in general, listening to developer interviews, spending a good deal of time on Gamespot, and a program on my computer called Raptr that tracks my gaming progress. And in these two years I've noticed something about the gaming community as a whole that baffles me: Elitism.
I would say that the majority of people whose sole or primary form of entertainment is playing video games have an earned stereotype (I can say this because I've earned it too). We were outcasts in school because we were interested in things that no one else was. When we talked we noticed that no one knew what we were talking about (both about entertainment and academia) and how we noticed it was that people would make comments about how they didn't know what we were talking about, to which most people would laugh. Those of us in this category did one of two things, either we kept talking how we wanted and told ourselves we were just smarter than most people (though the ridicule got worse as time passed and while our minds felt superior, our hearts sure didn't), or we realized that people don't like smart people and dumbed ourselves down so we wouldn't be made fun or anymore, hiding our real interests from everyone except our true friends (this was me). It was like people were part of these clubs that we were either not invited to, or that we faked our way into and then felt uncomfortable once there, because we could tell our kind weren't supposed to be there. It was a struggle, or at least it was for me.
And then, after I got married, I found gaming, and more importantly, I found gamers on the internet. It was like all of us found each other and became friends online. There weren't many of us in our own communities, but when we made a worldwide community there were really a lot of us, and that idea intrigued me. Finally, a large group of people who shared my interests and knew what I was talking about, and it wasn't just my group of friends I was honest with, there were a bunch of them.
After a few months though, I noticed how little gamers learned from high school. I started seeing cliques. The first I noticed were the hardware cliques (mostly PC vs. Console). "Games are made for consoles, which are really just old computers so we never get to use our rigs to their full capabilities." "Consoles are for casual gamers." ('casual gamer' is an insult in the gaming community) and, "Real gamers play on PCs." I was originally a console gamer, I have some games on the PC, but when it comes to shooters, I need my paddle, I just do. So console gamers would come back with "If it wasn't for consoles we wouldn't have the quality of games we have because there wouldn't be as much money in the industry." "People with PCs just need to stop getting such powerful rigs, as it's obvious they don't need them for the games that exist." but I never heard console gamers say PC gamers weren't 'True Gamers', but I think that comes from the fact that games started on the PC.
Which leads into the next clique: "'True Gamers' have been playing since Atari." or Nintendo, or Super Nintendo, or started on the PC and have never left it. Somehow, having played for twenty years just makes you better than other people, kind of like being Vegan. It just makes you better.
Then there are the genre wars. Mostly it's people saying that those who play Call of Duty (or other multi-player shooters) aren't real gamers, even if they play something else. The other big one is making fun of those who play facebook games because, you know, they aren't 'real games'.
I could go on, but my favorite are the Dark Souls/Deamon Souls players. If you don't play and enjoy that game you aren't a 'True Gamer' in their minds. I don't know what it is about that fan base, but I remember staying away from that game literally because the fans were so bat crap crazy that I didn't want to be numbered with them. I've decided to try it eventually, but if you talked about any other game to any of them it was as if you were a twelve year old boy in Victoria's Secret, you just didn't belong talking to the grown ups about video games.
It's all so childish though. It's as though we've finally found our way into a club we belong in and what's the first thing we do? Try to keep as many people out as possible, by saying they aren't as good as the rest of us because of what they play, or how often they play, or that they don't play every single game on the hardest difficulty possible. Don't we remember what that was like? They mention a game on facebook and because that's not our cup of tea we make sure they feel like they don't belong, or because they haven't spent hours reading every book in all of Skyrim they aren't really playing the game. Why aren't we better than this? Why can't we seem to be better than this? A gamer is anyone who enjoys playing video games with some or all of their free time. We all have different tastes, and that's okay. All of our tastes are valid, and all are invited to enjoy at least a facet of our past time. It's brought us a lot of happiness, and we believe it can bring others happiness too. So, lets invite them in, and make them feel welcomed instead of shunned. I know we can do it, and we owe it to our fifteen year old selves to at least try.
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
A Little Too Much
The lines on the tiles aren't perpendicular to the floor board. This room isn't square... no, not square and the tiles are moving. I know they are. I can see them... move. Why are they moving? Oh, no. The tiles aren't moving. Squint my eyes, see what's real. There, back to normal. I shouldn't have taken that much; I just wanted to impress her. Her. What was her name again? Dammit, I've been dating her for three months. What is her damn name?
Amber. Yeah, that's her name. Amber. Oh, squint again, oh man, the room's not moving, but it is. I've got to focus. Focus on something that won't make me feel so sick. This tile's like ice on my butt. No, nothing painful. Ugh, there, what is that? A hole in the sheet rock. Just, yes, it's just big enough for my fingernail. I wonder if I could see behind it? Dig. Dig. Dig... yeah, something's behind here, something red. More. A little more and I can fit my whole hand in. There it is, and, yes: A big piece.
It's not just red; it's... furry... soft. What... what's behind my wall. Let's see. Grab more pieces. Pull. Pull. Pull... Oh. Oh, no. Dammit, I didn't know that's where it was. Shit. Amber will see it. Cover it up, but, its eyes beg me not to. "You're mine." Shit, I'll wake up Amber at that volume, "You're mine. I'm not sharing you with Amber. She'll dump me if she knows about you." There it stands as a perfect oxymoron, the pleading, the soft red fur, the cushiony belly, all thrown around the gaping mouth full of yellowing spikes and horns jutting out of an over-sized head. The monster. The lovable, cuddly, soothing, shaming, hating, embarrassing monster.
"I have to cover you up." Shit, the alarm. Oh, Amber's going to be here any minute. Um... okay, maybe she'll be too tired to notice him. "Be cool, man."
"Mmmhmmm, what? What in the hell are you doing in here? After what you did to me last night I thought you'd be sound asleep."
Stand as big as I can, maybe she won't notice it behind me. "Oh," laugh... oh, not like that, she'll know you're hiding something, "I just went to the bathroom right before the alarm went off."
Good, she's popping zits in the mirror, maybe she won't see him. "Hmm, okay, well, I'm going back to bed. You're more than welcome to join me."
"O-okay. Yeah, I'll be there in a minute." She didn't notice it, thank heaven, but what am I going to do with it before she wakes....
"Hey, you haven't been doing drugs again have you." Shit, she's staring right at us. She has to see him now, we're so screwed.
"No... no, of course not. I told you, I gave that up a year ago."
How can she not see the monster standing right behind me? "Okay. You just seem a little weird this morning. You'll tell me if you ever do, right?"
"Oh, absolutely. But, that won't ever happen because I am so done with that stuff."
She doesn't look convinced. "Okay. Well, come to bed would you? We stayed up late last night."
"Yeah, just a minute." Good, she's gone. "Look, buddy, you've got to go... now, don't look at me like that, Amber will leave if she ever finds out about you... Okay, you can stay, but you've got to stay out of sight okay? I have no idea how she didn't see you this time. Stay in the closet or something. Somewhere she won't go. You know I love you, I just can't let her know you're still around. Now, I'm going to bed; you fix this wall before we wake up. You've done it before; do it again. Goodnight."
Amber. Yeah, that's her name. Amber. Oh, squint again, oh man, the room's not moving, but it is. I've got to focus. Focus on something that won't make me feel so sick. This tile's like ice on my butt. No, nothing painful. Ugh, there, what is that? A hole in the sheet rock. Just, yes, it's just big enough for my fingernail. I wonder if I could see behind it? Dig. Dig. Dig... yeah, something's behind here, something red. More. A little more and I can fit my whole hand in. There it is, and, yes: A big piece.
It's not just red; it's... furry... soft. What... what's behind my wall. Let's see. Grab more pieces. Pull. Pull. Pull... Oh. Oh, no. Dammit, I didn't know that's where it was. Shit. Amber will see it. Cover it up, but, its eyes beg me not to. "You're mine." Shit, I'll wake up Amber at that volume, "You're mine. I'm not sharing you with Amber. She'll dump me if she knows about you." There it stands as a perfect oxymoron, the pleading, the soft red fur, the cushiony belly, all thrown around the gaping mouth full of yellowing spikes and horns jutting out of an over-sized head. The monster. The lovable, cuddly, soothing, shaming, hating, embarrassing monster.
"I have to cover you up." Shit, the alarm. Oh, Amber's going to be here any minute. Um... okay, maybe she'll be too tired to notice him. "Be cool, man."
"Mmmhmmm, what? What in the hell are you doing in here? After what you did to me last night I thought you'd be sound asleep."
Stand as big as I can, maybe she won't notice it behind me. "Oh," laugh... oh, not like that, she'll know you're hiding something, "I just went to the bathroom right before the alarm went off."
Good, she's popping zits in the mirror, maybe she won't see him. "Hmm, okay, well, I'm going back to bed. You're more than welcome to join me."
"O-okay. Yeah, I'll be there in a minute." She didn't notice it, thank heaven, but what am I going to do with it before she wakes....
"Hey, you haven't been doing drugs again have you." Shit, she's staring right at us. She has to see him now, we're so screwed.
"No... no, of course not. I told you, I gave that up a year ago."
How can she not see the monster standing right behind me? "Okay. You just seem a little weird this morning. You'll tell me if you ever do, right?"
"Oh, absolutely. But, that won't ever happen because I am so done with that stuff."
She doesn't look convinced. "Okay. Well, come to bed would you? We stayed up late last night."
"Yeah, just a minute." Good, she's gone. "Look, buddy, you've got to go... now, don't look at me like that, Amber will leave if she ever finds out about you... Okay, you can stay, but you've got to stay out of sight okay? I have no idea how she didn't see you this time. Stay in the closet or something. Somewhere she won't go. You know I love you, I just can't let her know you're still around. Now, I'm going to bed; you fix this wall before we wake up. You've done it before; do it again. Goodnight."
Monday, August 13, 2012
Watch for Motorcycles
To start off with, let me get one thing straight, I have nothing against 'Watch for Motorcycles' stickers, or billboards, or signs, or whatever. I have a lot of family and friends who ride motorcycles (some of which have been in some bad accidents) and I like the idea of people trying to see them while they ride so that I don't have a premature funeral to attend.
That being said though, I think this 'Watch for Motorcycles' thing has only half for its story being told.
Here's what I mean: I try very hard to 'Watch for Motorcycles' (like I said, I have some buddies who like to straddle the engine) but today, as I was driving home, a motorcycle suddenly cut me off. No amount of 'Watch for Motorcycles'-ing was going to stop me from almost hitting him. So, I'd like to add my 'car driver's caveat' to the 'Watch for Motorcycles' thing. That is, 'Don't expect me to watch for you if you're driving like a moron.'
So, I've compiled a few examples to help the motorcyclists. First, know the conditions, and ride (or don't ride) appropriately. How many times have we as motorists been driving down a highway or freeway in some heavy wind when we suddenly come up on a motorcyclist driving twenty below the speed limit? How many times has it been raining and a motorcyclist is driving super slow on the freeway? Look, man (or woman, whichever the case may be), you made a choice when you bought that bike. You knew the tradeoffs. You were buying a vehicle that would surpass mine in both gas mileage and badassery. The drawback though: It won't drive well in adverse weather conditions. I'm all for 'Watch for Motorcycles'-ing, but if your vehicle can't drive the speed limit because of adverse conditions, it's time to be smart and pull it over until those conditions have changed. It's part of the trade off. I can keep driving, but will never look like a badass in my Ford Focus.
Another thought, you're driving a vehicle too, that means that you get to follow the same rules that we do. This means that in traffic, you can wait in line with the rest of us. I know that some motorcycle motors overheat easily and could explode if they aren't moving. Two options: Pull over and turn the bike off, or get out of the traffic. Any motorist will tell you that when they see a motorcycle flying up the dotted white lines when they're in traffic, they get the sudden urge to open their door to 'see what's going on up there.' And those who honestly haven't will start thinking about it. It's rude, and kind of dangerous, so again, drive smart so we can 'Watch for Motorcycles.'
Just a few other things: Drive the speed limit (or thereabouts), don't weave in and out of traffic, and don't hug the line. All of us motorists get nervous when you do any of this. We're not sure how stable the two-wheelers are. We rode bicycles and remember falling over, or weaving a little more than we meant to. Give us some space around you so we have the opportunity to 'Watch for Motorcycles.'
Anyway, that's my rant. Bottom line: if you really want me to 'Watch for Motorcycles' then please try to drive as safely and as cautiously as you can. If you don't, then I can't feel too bad about not 'Watch for Motorcycles'-ing.
That being said though, I think this 'Watch for Motorcycles' thing has only half for its story being told.
Here's what I mean: I try very hard to 'Watch for Motorcycles' (like I said, I have some buddies who like to straddle the engine) but today, as I was driving home, a motorcycle suddenly cut me off. No amount of 'Watch for Motorcycles'-ing was going to stop me from almost hitting him. So, I'd like to add my 'car driver's caveat' to the 'Watch for Motorcycles' thing. That is, 'Don't expect me to watch for you if you're driving like a moron.'
So, I've compiled a few examples to help the motorcyclists. First, know the conditions, and ride (or don't ride) appropriately. How many times have we as motorists been driving down a highway or freeway in some heavy wind when we suddenly come up on a motorcyclist driving twenty below the speed limit? How many times has it been raining and a motorcyclist is driving super slow on the freeway? Look, man (or woman, whichever the case may be), you made a choice when you bought that bike. You knew the tradeoffs. You were buying a vehicle that would surpass mine in both gas mileage and badassery. The drawback though: It won't drive well in adverse weather conditions. I'm all for 'Watch for Motorcycles'-ing, but if your vehicle can't drive the speed limit because of adverse conditions, it's time to be smart and pull it over until those conditions have changed. It's part of the trade off. I can keep driving, but will never look like a badass in my Ford Focus.
Another thought, you're driving a vehicle too, that means that you get to follow the same rules that we do. This means that in traffic, you can wait in line with the rest of us. I know that some motorcycle motors overheat easily and could explode if they aren't moving. Two options: Pull over and turn the bike off, or get out of the traffic. Any motorist will tell you that when they see a motorcycle flying up the dotted white lines when they're in traffic, they get the sudden urge to open their door to 'see what's going on up there.' And those who honestly haven't will start thinking about it. It's rude, and kind of dangerous, so again, drive smart so we can 'Watch for Motorcycles.'
Just a few other things: Drive the speed limit (or thereabouts), don't weave in and out of traffic, and don't hug the line. All of us motorists get nervous when you do any of this. We're not sure how stable the two-wheelers are. We rode bicycles and remember falling over, or weaving a little more than we meant to. Give us some space around you so we have the opportunity to 'Watch for Motorcycles.'
Anyway, that's my rant. Bottom line: if you really want me to 'Watch for Motorcycles' then please try to drive as safely and as cautiously as you can. If you don't, then I can't feel too bad about not 'Watch for Motorcycles'-ing.
Monday, July 16, 2012
My New Sport
Let me just start out by saying that CB is small for her age. Not worryingly small. She's a bit over a year and still wears nine month clothes (six month in some brands). On top of that, of her body I mean, her head is just a little big for her age, seventieth percentile or so. Her legs also look a little short for her body (I'm sure her diaper isn't doing her any favors in that department). So when I say that she looks kind of funny walking now, it's not me being a mean father, it's that she really does look like a short-legged bobble-head with its hands to its chest (like how a chimp walks).
Now, we're spending a little time here at Grandma's house, who also lives close to Great Grandma, and CB has decided recently (we're talking the last couple of weeks) that crawling is old news. We entered her in the crawling diaper derby, in which there were three heats for her to compete and she won, and I think the victory got to her head, because soon thereafter (I think the next day) she learned how to stand up without the use of anything. That's right, CB has learned to pick that huge melon up onto her toothpick body without anything to help balance it.
What does this mean? Well, it means that my wife and I have taken up a new sport. We're calling it, "Run Really Fast and Catch CB Before She Falls or Goes Somewhere that will Inevitably Lead to a Hospital Visit;" it's a working name. Thus far she's fallen down the stairs once (I wasn't present, we're pinning that one on everyone upstairs at the time), constantly trips on stuff (though that doesn't make us lose points), and last night she tripped and plowed right into Great Grandma's banister. So, this morning, she has a great big purple bruise one her cheek. The saddest part of it all though, is that even with the clear and present danger, I can't help but chuckle when I see her walk (and to be honest, trip), because she looks like an orangutan (short legs, raised hands, and all) who's had a few too many. I'm going to go and ask God for forgiveness, if you'd pray for me (and for CB), that'd be great.
Now, we're spending a little time here at Grandma's house, who also lives close to Great Grandma, and CB has decided recently (we're talking the last couple of weeks) that crawling is old news. We entered her in the crawling diaper derby, in which there were three heats for her to compete and she won, and I think the victory got to her head, because soon thereafter (I think the next day) she learned how to stand up without the use of anything. That's right, CB has learned to pick that huge melon up onto her toothpick body without anything to help balance it.
What does this mean? Well, it means that my wife and I have taken up a new sport. We're calling it, "Run Really Fast and Catch CB Before She Falls or Goes Somewhere that will Inevitably Lead to a Hospital Visit;" it's a working name. Thus far she's fallen down the stairs once (I wasn't present, we're pinning that one on everyone upstairs at the time), constantly trips on stuff (though that doesn't make us lose points), and last night she tripped and plowed right into Great Grandma's banister. So, this morning, she has a great big purple bruise one her cheek. The saddest part of it all though, is that even with the clear and present danger, I can't help but chuckle when I see her walk (and to be honest, trip), because she looks like an orangutan (short legs, raised hands, and all) who's had a few too many. I'm going to go and ask God for forgiveness, if you'd pray for me (and for CB), that'd be great.
Monday, July 2, 2012
Sally, Part 44
Sally, Part 43
Or at least that's what Stacey kept telling himself. The farther they went into the wood, the more eyes appeared along the side. They varied in size, shape, and color, and Stacey couldn't stop his mind from imagining what kind of ugly creature would have red slits for eyes. Something with fangs and horns, maybe? But Stacey still said nothing. Mattias and Syrin were still unfazed and so would he pretend to be.
Syrin stopped for a moment and squinted at something ahead. Stacey was so preoccupied with the eyes that he nearly bumped right into Mattias's back. He barely stopped himself in time and Syrin started walking again without a word or gesture. Mattias followed and Stacey held until there was space between them. What had Syrin seen? Or thought he saw? It made Stacey uneasy, and if he were forced to be totally truthful, a little afraid. Syrin never stopped for anything, so whatever he saw must have been something to be feared. Thought he saw, Stacey continued telling himself, he only thought he saw something.
The uneasiness still didn't go away though. Syrin didn't stop walking, but kept looking ahead like he was expecting something. An owl hooted, Mattias and Syrin never flinched, but Stacey almost jumped out of his skin. Why did they have to go in this wood? Why did they have to go anyway? Slavers or savers, Stacey no longer wanted to be a part of it.
Syrin stopped again. This time, Stacey was ready and tried to see what he was seeing. The stop was longer this time and Syrin cocked his head to look from different angles. Still focusing, Syrin made his hands into an odd looking fist and blew into it, making some kind of call Stacey didn't recognize. Mattias had his hand on the hilt of his sword, making Stacey start reaching for his carving knife. Syrin made the noise again and started walking. Mattias quickly followed, and just as Stacey was about to do so, something dark gripped him by the shoulders and carried him into the black of the forest.
Or at least that's what Stacey kept telling himself. The farther they went into the wood, the more eyes appeared along the side. They varied in size, shape, and color, and Stacey couldn't stop his mind from imagining what kind of ugly creature would have red slits for eyes. Something with fangs and horns, maybe? But Stacey still said nothing. Mattias and Syrin were still unfazed and so would he pretend to be.
Syrin stopped for a moment and squinted at something ahead. Stacey was so preoccupied with the eyes that he nearly bumped right into Mattias's back. He barely stopped himself in time and Syrin started walking again without a word or gesture. Mattias followed and Stacey held until there was space between them. What had Syrin seen? Or thought he saw? It made Stacey uneasy, and if he were forced to be totally truthful, a little afraid. Syrin never stopped for anything, so whatever he saw must have been something to be feared. Thought he saw, Stacey continued telling himself, he only thought he saw something.
The uneasiness still didn't go away though. Syrin didn't stop walking, but kept looking ahead like he was expecting something. An owl hooted, Mattias and Syrin never flinched, but Stacey almost jumped out of his skin. Why did they have to go in this wood? Why did they have to go anyway? Slavers or savers, Stacey no longer wanted to be a part of it.
Syrin stopped again. This time, Stacey was ready and tried to see what he was seeing. The stop was longer this time and Syrin cocked his head to look from different angles. Still focusing, Syrin made his hands into an odd looking fist and blew into it, making some kind of call Stacey didn't recognize. Mattias had his hand on the hilt of his sword, making Stacey start reaching for his carving knife. Syrin made the noise again and started walking. Mattias quickly followed, and just as Stacey was about to do so, something dark gripped him by the shoulders and carried him into the black of the forest.
Monday, June 25, 2012
Sally, Part 43
Sally, Part 42
As they came to the first twist in the path Stacey took a look back at the sliver of sunlight that marked where they'd entered the wood. It would be the last sunlight he'd see in a while. Together, they turned the corner and the sunlight was gone. Stacey felt as though someone had ripped a blanket off of him on a cold winter's day, uncomforted and wronged.
"Is there no other path than through this forest?" Stacey's voice croaked a little, and he hoped the other two wouldn't notice.
Mattias looked back as warmly as he was able on a path like this, "None less dangerous or uncomfortable. Don't worry Stacey, we'll be through it before you know it." He turned back around and walked a few more steps before bringing his head back to Stacey again, "Stay on the path though. Otherwise, it'll be much longer than you'd think." With that, Mattias faced the path again, and left Stacey wondering why he hadn't let them kill him earlier.
What was more curious than the lack of light in the forest, was the existence of some. Not once did Stacey see a beam of sunshine coming through a hole in the canopy, and yet, they all could see enough to recognize the path, even if they couldn't see beyond it on either side. It was as if there was a magical ray of sunshine that started bouncing between the trees centuries earlier and continued doing so even after the trees grew to their monstrous heights. Stacey decided not to ask Syrin or Mattias about the light, as Mattias's answer to his last question hadn't really helped him, or even made him feel better. He'd just trudge on, and be glad there was any light at all.
Syrin led the three, because of his exceptional eye sight, and Stacey took up the rear because of his exceptional... well, because he was Stacey. It didn't bother him at first, until he started seeing eyes appear between the trees. Occasionally, he imagined that some of them were just barely off the path, but decided that could not be so. Wood dwelling creatures are always afraid of and standoffish to people. Surely nothing would attack, or even come near them on the path. Nothing would dare.
As they came to the first twist in the path Stacey took a look back at the sliver of sunlight that marked where they'd entered the wood. It would be the last sunlight he'd see in a while. Together, they turned the corner and the sunlight was gone. Stacey felt as though someone had ripped a blanket off of him on a cold winter's day, uncomforted and wronged.
"Is there no other path than through this forest?" Stacey's voice croaked a little, and he hoped the other two wouldn't notice.
Mattias looked back as warmly as he was able on a path like this, "None less dangerous or uncomfortable. Don't worry Stacey, we'll be through it before you know it." He turned back around and walked a few more steps before bringing his head back to Stacey again, "Stay on the path though. Otherwise, it'll be much longer than you'd think." With that, Mattias faced the path again, and left Stacey wondering why he hadn't let them kill him earlier.
What was more curious than the lack of light in the forest, was the existence of some. Not once did Stacey see a beam of sunshine coming through a hole in the canopy, and yet, they all could see enough to recognize the path, even if they couldn't see beyond it on either side. It was as if there was a magical ray of sunshine that started bouncing between the trees centuries earlier and continued doing so even after the trees grew to their monstrous heights. Stacey decided not to ask Syrin or Mattias about the light, as Mattias's answer to his last question hadn't really helped him, or even made him feel better. He'd just trudge on, and be glad there was any light at all.
Syrin led the three, because of his exceptional eye sight, and Stacey took up the rear because of his exceptional... well, because he was Stacey. It didn't bother him at first, until he started seeing eyes appear between the trees. Occasionally, he imagined that some of them were just barely off the path, but decided that could not be so. Wood dwelling creatures are always afraid of and standoffish to people. Surely nothing would attack, or even come near them on the path. Nothing would dare.
Thursday, June 21, 2012
It's Not Just Allergies
My wife shakes me, and I try opening my eyes. It's as if someone laid a strip of Elmer's Glue on my eyelids. Ugh, allergies. Slowly, my eyelids tear the barrier apart and I swallow. Ooh, my throat hurts from the drainage. What time do I want to get up? Never. I move my legs a little. Oh, no. It's not just allergies. My whole body aches. Suddenly, I need to blow my nose. Yep, green and yellow mucus stare back at me. Why? We have a cake to make today for CB's birthday. CB starts to cry and I can feel my forehead, ever so slowly, rip away from my skull. I have stuff to do, a cake to make, stuff to write, stuff to email, stuff to read. Why me? Why now? Even here at my computer my neck starts to scream. I took some decongestant before, maybe I need to take some painkillers. Maybe I need to curl up into a ball and cry. I really hope this only lasts for today.
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