It's true, I'm at it again!

Missed this too much to quit for good, so I am at it again. Not so much a small town, but adventures and fun none-the-less. Check it out if you dare.

http://ihavetheworldonastring.blogspot.com/

Thou shalt not play with another’s leg hair

I am not good at flirting. I have never claimed to be. When it comes to dating and being a flirtatious expert, I would not be in the running. However, I do think that there are some basic guidelines when working to attract the opposite sex. Now I am not referring to the guides or articles or countless books that try and describe the various approaches to playing the delicate game of love. What I am here to talk about is the rudimentary understanding that sometimes surpasses both men and women alike. So why did this topic come up? Well, it all began talking to a friend of mine who recently went on a first date. The date itself did not pose anything terribly eventful. It was fun, seemingly left on a superficial note, however, displayed the clear signs of attraction. The girl in question sent the messages that would indicate potential interest for a relationship. Physical touch expressed in hand holding, laughter and verbal expression. However, the questionable behavior does not stem from mild breaching of social norms. This was not excessive hair flipping, over flexing, or obnoxious giggling. This was one of those moments when you think, what the??? You see, following the initial date, the next day presented another social interaction. Watching a show on tv with another couple. The other couple was in a relationship and enjoying one another’s company. The friend and his date where sitting next to one another when his companion reached over and placed her hand on his leg. Nothing out of the norm here, until apparently tired of waiting for the initiative to be taken by him, proceeded to play with his leg hair. And play and play and play… At this point one must be thinking, where do you go from there? Amidst my less than supportive laughter, I asked what he did. His response was, sit uncomfortably and wait it out. I would have thought this was one of the most awkward encounters I had heard of, if not for the fact that I once also knew a girl who when nervous in the company of a man she was attracted to, would spontaneously, and without notice or consent from the other person, play odd or even with him. In case you are not familiar with this game, it entails one person grabbing and ripping a pinch full of hair from another’s leg and having them guess if the number of hairs was odd or even. The first time I witnessed it I thought, “Oh please let me not have just seen what I think I have”. These encounters got me thinking, how do some totally miss the mark on what crosses the line from flirting to just plain odd?

Then I thought of all the messages that we have around us at any given time. There are books, sitcoms, comic strips, talk shows, youtube videos, facebook posts, tweets, the list is endless. And all presumably suggest different methods for attracting a potential partner. I even once spent a dinner group evening reading suggestions in a book on flirting for dummies that indicated flaring your nostrils would attract a partner. I thought it ludicrous as two of the members of the group practiced on one another. I would write that one off all together if those two members were not currently married with a child. Even acts of sheer madness can do the trick. A good friend of mine had a roommate who, there is no delicate way to put this, was kind of crazy. She would go into fits of hysteria over the slightest thing. She would scream and throw things, going ballistic amidst wailing that no one understood her plight in life. One day the guy that every girl wanted to date came over right in the middle of one of these fits. One would imagine that any seemingly sane man would run the other direction, but no. He immediately began to pursue her. They also ended up taking the leap into wedded bliss. When asked what it was that first attracted him to her, he indicated that he knew that life with her would never be boring. So is it really that some people lack complete understanding of where the line exists between social norms and personal idiosyncrasies? Or that they just may not have yet encountered the other individual who will truly appreciate their antics. To all you single ladies and gents out there, perhaps it is not that your tactics are flawed, but that the target has not been truly identified. Until then, I will continue to get a good chuckle out of the sorted experiences in dating all along the way.

Shhhh... no talking!

I like to talk. No explanation, reasoning or debate. Just a simple fact. There are times when I feel like being reflective and pensive. Turning inward and taking in the surroundings I am experiencing. These times are rejuvenating and helpful. However, there is a cap for me. I would say that beyond 3/4 of a day, and I am talking to the cat and praying that the day doesn't come when he talks back. Knowing this about me, it is no surprise that I would be caught in shocked silence at the news that my best friend was leaving for a five day meditation retreat. It is not the meditation that was shocking, but the fact that this retreat was being conducted in "noble silence". An entire 5 days with no verbal communication, with one exception, one hour a day of private instruction with your teacher. Let me tell you, should I be able to have the restraint to participate, that hour would be intense! Not so much for me, but the teacher may revoke my speaking privileges. It amazes me how open she is to try new things, challenge herself, and look for answers not from the popular fads or theories, but from within herself. That without the distractions of life around her, clarity and understanding will reveal itself to her. This got me thinking, although five days of reflection is a bit out of my league, how can I truly grasp these principles in my every day life? There are several activities that I participate in that encourage quiet and reflection, but I am one who easily gets caught up not in the things around me, but in my own brain. Sometimes it will just not quit! So I decided some research into the concepts of this retreat may give me some more ideas coupled with what I already participate in. The guidelines of the retreat, no verbal communication, no electronics, an all natural vegan diet, meditation experiences and time away from your life. What things can I implement that may assist me? First and foremost, turning my cell phone off. Not on vibrate, because that is my preference, but then I silently watch for the screen to light up or hear that familiar buzz. Take time to spend in nature, away from the busy-ness of urban life. And take time to really listen for answers. I ask plenty of questions, putting my heart's desires and life's questions out there, but not taking the time to listen for the answers. I am anxious to speak with her when she returns and to hear about the experience overall. I am slightly wicked though. My last question was one that planted a horrible seed for her. I inquired, "Do you get in trouble for giggling?" What??? was her response. I don't know about the rest of you, but after a few days of silence, the release for me would be breaking into uncontrollable giggling that I could not stop even if I tried. Let's just say that there is a small part of me that would love to hear what would happen, should in the middle of her meditation she remember this quick conversation and burst into laughter. I have a feeling this may be a story in the making and cannot wait to hear how it is going to end. I am evil, but I can't help it. Life is an experience and are what the best stories are made of.

Does art immitate life, or is it the other way around?

Do you ever have those moments where you think, "which came first the chicken or the egg?" I did this week when in the middle of a crowded sidewalk, I nearly lost it laughing over what I saw happening around me. I was walking down a busy street in Salt Lake City surrounded by people all wearing shirts and ties or nice dresses or skirts. I was by an enormous office building that provided the hoards of professionally dressed individuals, but it still caught me off guard. About half a block down I noticed a bus stop. Normally that would not be a huge eye catching fact, but what I saw immediately caught my attention. There were two bus benches next to the sign that were full with people waiting. Then directly behind the sign was a man that was clearly the first person in line. Behind him were half a dozen men and women, dressed to the nines waiting in a perfectly straight line, arms placed at their sides and looking straight forward. That was a peculiar sight for me as I am used to passing bus stops where most everyone is waiting around in a group, talking, listening to music, sitting on some grass, etc. That alone was unique when all of the sudden the three people walking next to me on the sidewalk made a sudden turn left from their forward movement, and continued the succinct line until in neared the bushes and made a sharp 90 degree angle. Once again, there was no observable facial expressions, no friendly pleasantries, just order. It all looked so familiar when it hit me where I had seen this scene before. Harry Potter! If you recall in what I think was the 5th Harry Potter movie, as they are trying to disguise themselves to break into the Ministry of Magic, all of the workers lined up single file in their professional apparel taking turns one by one to enter. This is why this looked so familiar. And I started to laugh. Because how often are you walking down a street to look up and see anything that makes one conclude that Hogwarts may not be that far off from reality. So the question at hand, which did come first? Does art imitate life, or does life imitate art? I honestly have no idea. Was this experience just a quirky coincidence, did authors/directors see this at some point and conclude this is what the scene would look like, or do we unconsciously evolve into what we see, hear, or experience around us? And if the third is the case, how much exposure would place us in danger of becoming what we see? Just some food for thought as we move along with the world around us. 

Oh I wish I were an Oscar Meyer Weiner Flashback!

Who knew one song could have such a lasting impression, but it does. I went to the Desert Star dinner theater to go see their parody of Wicked, called Wicked-er! It was the epic tale of Vanna White, fed up with the poor treatment Pat was subjecting her to, she is distributed to Oz where she puts on the ruby red sneakers and travels with quite a group of characters to see the wizard. Rather than the scarecrow, lion, and tin man, Vanna explores Oz with Arnold Schwarzenegger, Zach Galifianakis, and none other than Dr. Sheldon Cooper.  It is a small production, but quite a fun experience. 

SPOILER ALERT!!!

Ok, if you do not want to know how this show ends, stop reading right now. Because without the ending of this show, you cannot begin to understand the correlation to an American classic such as the hot dog. After Vanna becomes power hungry and takes over Oz and becomes Wicked-er than the wicked witch of the west, the group tries to end her reign of tyranny.  The ruby sneakers give her the ability to wish for anything that she desires. Therefore, in the last moments of the show, Dr. Sheldon Cooper performs a masterful twist of irony. He expresses that what he misses most from home was a hot dog. Then humming the familiar tune scratches his head to remember the lyrics to the famous jingle, at which point Vanna sings out, “Oh I wish I were an Oscar Meyer Weiner!” and poof she is. It is after her transformation that Zach Galifianakis eats her. So why does this jingle take me back to a time long, long ago. I have a secret. It is shameful and has only been shared with a few… I once grasped at fame and glory with that very same song. How you might ask? It was a sunny day as a youth, I think I was about 11, when what came to town but the Oscar Meyer Weenie Mobile! I mean who doesn’t love a giant hot dog on wheels? But better yet, they were coming by to audition children for their commercials. All you had to do was sing the jingle on camera to audition and then you got a weenie whistle. There was initial excitement, however, it was more-so from my dad in that he had always wanted a weenie whistle and here it was only 90 camera seconds away from being his. Unfortunately, he did not qualify to audition. So what does he do? Signs me up. 

This would not have been too terribly embarrassing, had it not been for one unmistakable fact. Everyone else was the average age of 4 and no taller than 4 feet. Then here I come. Picture this, a 5 foot something 11 year old, hunching over a short microphone stand singing the Oscar Meyer Weiner song following the audition of an adorable 3 year old with a slight speech impediment. I never had a chance. My dreams of celebrity lying somewhere on a cutting room floor. Far better there I imagine, than aired nation-wide. Should I ever run for public office, I fear that this tape would re-surface and my gap toothed, Sally Jesse Raphael pink glasses, and un-ruley blonde hair would knock me out of the running. I mean really, who wants a weenie has-been who never really was? It shall be the skeleton in my closet, always lurking but never appearing except in my own mind, every time I hear the words, “because Oscar Meyer has a way with B-O-L-O-G-N-A!”

Yo-ho, yo-ho a pirate’s life for me!

The time has come to share the goings on of northern Utah, which like its small town predecessor, has some unique events of its own. Unlike the “bedazzle your bra” contest of Small Town X’s county fair, the 2^nd annual Pirate Festival was a not to be missed event, or so we thought…

Now let me paint a picture for you on National Talk like a Pirate Day. I decided I would dress to impress, with anything I already owned, that was pirate-like. This included a set of Captain Jack Sparrow dreadlocks and hat, some Aztec looking jewelry and gaudy earrings. We set off for the bay where we were ready for whatever adventures the pirate festival had to offer. When we arrived we found that this festival is a work in progress, boasting no more than a couple dozen booths and underwhelming attendance. However, it was definitely a worthwhile experience and here is why.

Lack of crowds made for easy access to any booth. While others may have spent a Saturday running errands, cleaning house, or any other number of run of the mill activities (the same ones I would normally be participating in) I spent this particular Saturday improving my minimal archery skills, learning to throw knives, getting a private, pirate magic show which taught me the values of good pirating (ie. to lie, cheat and steal) watching them set a mermaid free in the bay, petting a goat and hanging with a very good Jack Sparrow impersonator. All in all, it was quite the experience, and I left with one song echoing in my mind, yo-ho, yo-ho it’s a pirate’s life for me!

Random acts of kindness, proof in the goodness around us

Spencer W. Kimball once said, “So often, our acts of service consist of simple encouragement or of giving … help with mundane tasks, but what glorious consequences can flow … from small but deliberate deeds!” It amazes me the amount of service that goes on around me, as well as for me, at any given time. Selfless acts of generosity and love. And then there come around those examples of incredible goodness that change people’s lives in more drastic ways. I had the chance to hear firsthand one such story, and asked if I could share it. To begin, you must know one important fact, I work with the most incredible man. He has been given more than his fair share of challenges, and the strength to endure he emulates is unprecedented. To give you some background, he has spent his life and his career helping others. He is patient and kind in all his dealings, and gives 110% to everything he does. He has been faced with some difficult challenges. Having struggled to manage his health he has dealt with controlling his diabetes, having a liver transplant, tackling skin cancer (which was a side effect of the anti-rejection medications he takes) and a serious foot disease that leaves the bones fragile and easily broken. On top of everything that he has already coped with, he recently discovered that he will have to have one of his legs amputated. This news was tragic, and yet he continues to give his all to those around him, despite dealing with the heaviness and weight of this next challenge.

The people around him have flooded his life with tender mercies. He shared some of these acts of service, from rides to and from work, to meals prepared for their family, as well as some incredible feats. The members of his ward/church came and built a deck and ramp in order to make getting in and out of the house easily accessible. Then this weekend he was met with yet another act of generosity. He received a call on Friday from RC Willey. The man said that they had a delivery for him and needed to arrange a drop off time for the next day. He explained to the caller that he must have the incorrect person, and that they had not purchased any items. The caller then explained that he knew he would be confused, but that an anonymous person had arranged for this delivery and they just needed to find a good time. Stunned and perplexed he arranged a time the following day. When the delivery truck arrived, the driver entered and said, “I am under contract not to disclose any information regarding the person that arranged this, but where would you like it?” He responded that he did not know what it was. The driver pointed outside to a beautiful new stainless steel range and oven. He was speechless. At this point in the story I asked the significance of the gift. He said that they had had their stove and oven for 30+ years and that most of the burners no longer worked and they had to test the temperature separately because the instruments were no longer functioning. Replacing the expensive appliance was not possible, so their family made due. He had not ever spoken about this concern, and did not know who might have known about the oven, and would be so generous as to replace it for their family. 

He was brought to tears even re-telling the story, and frankly so was I. There is no one more deserving of such a kind and thoughtful gift. It never ceases to amaze me the incredible people that come in and out of our lives. The individuals responsible may never know how much their act of kindness not only fulfilled a temporal need, but also fed the souls of those involved. It filled them with gratitude and love, humility and hope. I am grateful for so many that give of themselves in time, resources and love. They work miracles every day in the lives of those around them. And when it seems that hatred and contention have won, I remember that that will never be possible so long as acts of service and love exist.