Funniest. Stand-Up. Ever.

This is Demetri Martin. My favorite standup. Why? Just watch and see.

Shock and Awful

I am in mourning for my Utes. If I had a flag pole, my crimson and white would be at half-staff. The game we failed to play on Saturday was as painful a loss as I have ever seen. We got skunked by UNLV, a team that has not beaten us since 1979. That sort of thing hurts. I was hoping, after our upset of UCLA that we might have snapped the early-season funk, but that seems now to not be the case.

I wish I could blame the loss on something else, but I have to place it where it lies: we stunk. Bad coaching, bad player mistakes, misques, and Andy Ludwig. We earned this loss. It was like watching your kid do drugs: you love them so much, but they just keep messing up. Not a happy day.

It has me so sad, that I can't even gripe.

Catch 22

So, I am in a bit of a quandary. At my new place of work, which I overall love and appreciate, there is a bit of a cultural snafu going on. It is nothing official, but one of those unspoken rules that everyone has to abide by yet no one tells the new guys about. The rule is this: as a new guy, you are expected to know everthing right off the bat, and not to ask too many quesitons. Further, you are not to let on that you know anything what-so-ever, to show that you know your place as a new guy. In other words, they want you to be smart, but keep quiet about it. They want you to know everything, but don't want to teach you about it.

Now granted, not everyone is this way. My supervisors, thankfully, are not this way. But other people are. At a recent training I piped up to give my opinion. What my supervisors then heard from other higher-ups is that they felt the 'new people' were talking too much. Ergo the Catch 22: you have to prove yourself, but you can't talk too much, change too much, or ask any questions.

Maybe this is all agrivated by the fact that I work downstairs from HQ, and I hope that when I head out into the field things will improve. I do not do well bottled up. I can't believe that they hired me so I would stay quiet and ignorant, and consistently underachieve. So I am not going to let it get me down. I am gonna be the best employee I can possibly be. If people don't like that about me, then it is their problem. I will not be held back. There is only one way to win a hopeless game: don't play.

A Thing of Beauty is a Joy Forever

And what a beautiful thing it was!

#11 UCLA at Utah. They were supposed to spank us. They were supposed to walk all over us. We had no chance. And then what happens? We DESTROY them 44 to 6. Our defense held UCLA to a mere 2 field goals, and blanked them in the second half. It was a joy, a pleasure, a near spiritual experience to behold. My only regret is that we were not in the stadium personally to watch it.

I like to consider it a personal birthday present from the team to me. Dana did everything she could to make my birthday a great one. Made my favorite breakfast, bought me Brain Age 2, got me a sweet cordless drill, and in general has treated me like a king. To have my Utes win over such a heavily favored team is the icing on the cake. What a great day.

So now I am 29. Weird. On the one hand I see myself doing things that I think are too grown up for me to be doing (marital therapy, for instance), yet on the other hand I feel like I have accomplished a lot in 29 years. I look back at the past and there are so many other things I might have done, so many other paths I could have taken. Who knows what else might have become of me if I had different friends, made different decisions, thought different things.

However I ended up where I am, I am glad of it. My life is pretty sweet. I have a wonderful and loving wife, a great job doing what I love, I am healthy, have good friends, a great family, and I am blessed to have such a close relationship with God. I truly feel incredibly blessed, and am so grateful for all of the positive influences in my life.

So on this happy day, I want to say thanks to everyone who has contributed to the happiness that is my life. Even to you, big jerk 9th grader who beat me up in 7th grade: thanks for showing me how stupid violence makes people look, and for showing me how not to be.

Car Shopping

We need another car. Well, better said, I need another car. This whole public transit thing has got to go. I hate waiting for buses and trams, and if you want to know my feelings about Trax drivers, see Ouch. Plus, since we are moving away from the Trax lines anyway, the whole second car thing is no longer a matter of choice. So now I am left with, as the Germans say 'der Quahl der Wahl' that is, the difficulty of decision.

It would not be so bad if I just knew what kind of car we will need long-term. But I don't even know where we are moving. Will I have a long commute? Will I need a good winter car? Will we be able to do any off-roading? Will we be able to drive convertible year-round? The problem is that I just don't know. I would hate to buy a Jeep when what I need is a Civic.

So that leaves me in the position of trying to find the car for all seasons, but such a thing does not seem to exist. I want a car that is sporty, powerful, easy on the eyes and the MPG, one that I can go camping with but also drive to work everyday, 4wd options, a good stereo, and does not cost too much more than 20,000. Anyone know of a car like that?

Anyway, that is my current task. And then, once I have found the car, I will have to decide between new and used, and dicker about the price and features. Grrr.

Gripe O' the Day: People who call in to TV/Radio shows to tell the host how much they hate the show. I feel these people are fundamentally untrustworthy. I can't get past the idea that, if they really hated the show, they would not listen in the first place.

Personally, I hate liver. I hate anything even remotely related to liver. I will not eat it, period. My mom made me liver and onions once, and insisted that I eat the whole thing, and only let me leave the table after I almost threw-up after one bite. Since I hate liver, there is not a chance that I will put some in my mouth, chew it around a bit, then spit it out in disgust. It is not getting past my lips in any form,

Yet these callers seem to be doing something very similar. They hate a program, yet keep listening. Bunch of closet masochists if you ask me. My advice to them: change stations. In the end, that is the only meaningful way those people can have any effect on the hated program anyway. By calling in they are perpetuating the program, and giving people who like the program something to argue against. It just doesn't make any sense at all.

More to me than Football

Alright, so I was looking back at the last few posts, and realised all I was talking about was University of Utah football. Well, that is not exactly a good representation of myself. True, during football season I am very passionate about my Utes, but there are many things I am passionate about, and if you can't talk about your passions on your blog, where can you talk about them?

One of the things I really enjoy is making things with my hands. I am sort of a jack-of-all-trades, particularly where ancient technologies are concerned. I have made my own arrowheads out of both flint and obsidian (and an old whiskey bottle), I learned how to make cordage and rope from just about every natural fiber source I have been able to find in Utah, and after that I learned how to do ancient Coil-Weaving (like picture #4). Well, having arrowheads and string, I then wanted to make an authentic bow. Well, no dice there. Bows are complicated. None of this simple stick and string nonsense. Making a bow the right way is tough, long, and exacting work, and involves the death of at least one large animal (for the sinew to make a good bowstring) so I had to scrap that one.

Some of the recent stuff I have made with my own two hands has been more practical and modern. I learned how to knit, sew and crochet. I have knit several simple peices, (scarves and blankets for the neices, etc.) and right now I am crocheting a hammock with a U of U theme. The best piece I have ever made, and the one I am most proud of, is a shirt of 4-in-1 chain maille. I made it just to see if I could, and because I was tired of 'girly' things like knitting and crochetting. As it turns out, chainmaille is a lot like knitting, just with galvanized steel instead of yarn. Instead of needles you use plyers. It is knitting on steroids, I guess.

Someday, my hope is to get a nice shop set up where I can make all the stuff I want without having to have it scattered all over the family room. That shop would ideally contain a forge and an anvil, because at heart I think I really am some kind of blacksmith. If I could get that dream realized, I could then merge my passion for creation with another of my passions: swords and knives.

Ok, so there is a little bit more about me. I am not just a U of U fanatic.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. . .

Well actually, Saturday was mostly just the worst of times. U of U vs Air Force Academy. This was the first test of what our team would be capable of without starting QB and starting running back. And we were tested. In a game where we should have dominated at the line, we were unable to make anything happen with our run. And Andy Ludwig van Brokenbrain, true to form, was incapable of learning from his own failures, so he persisted in trying up-the-gut run plays for all of the first half, even though none of them were successful.

Finally, after the break, we started to run short passing routs. Good, simple, effective football. It was working, and would have been a complete success, but for the fact that Grady is as easy to read as Dr. Seuss. He was picked twice, and there was no other reason for that than good defence, and poor throwing. Even then, we managed to get a drive going, and could have moved into the lead. 3rd down and 1 yard to go on the Air Force 30, and what does Andy Loserwig call? A reverse run play!!! A play that is designed to lose yardage in the hope for a big gain!! Seriously, what is wrong with this guy? Whitt, please can him before he gets you both fired!

I could go on about this for days, but I will hold myself to this: even the up-the-gut nonsense Andy was running all first half was gaining 1 yard per play. Why, in the name of all that is good, do you call a complicated risky play that has the chance of losing yardage? Is Andy seriously that stupid? Unfortunately is seems as though he is.

Oh, and our best receiver got hurt in the game, and is out for the season. Soon enough, they will just let the defense stay on the field for the whole game, because the entire offense will be watching on crutches from the sidelines.

End of an Era

The inevitable has finally happened: After six wonderful years, Dana and I have found out when we are going to be moving away from Shoreline. We have to be out of our apartment by October 31. It is going to be a sad day. We have both loved living up here. The ward is awesome, and we have made some really great friends.

We have to move out because I am no longer a student. In fact, we would have had to move out Sept 7th if not for the fact that Dana is staff, and that I called to beg them to let us stay. It is funny that the only time the good people at the former ORL have ever been on top of managerial things is to kick people out. Oh, well. We knew it was coming.

It was funny, because Dana and I went through about 20 different scenarios of how to stay up here, so we only have to move once I get transferred. We registered for classes, considered forcing them to evict us, petitioned for extensions, called the office of the University President, and even considered starting a petition. If it was possible, we considered doing it. In the end, though, we just realised that we would have to take our lumps and move out. No sense in paying tuition for classes I would never take, especially since I would have failed them, and that would have left a mark on my GPA.

So we are going to move out on the 31st. Moving on Halloween. What a bummer. I am so bummed that I don't even think I have the energy to write my gripe. Just know it was scathing, and I showed them no mercy.

Let it Flow!

We live in a desert. This should not be a surprise to anyone who knows anything about Utah. I think I got rained on twice during the whole summer. We have all sorts of snazzy campaigns about saving water (Slow the Flow, save H2O). Some cities have even gone so far as to fine people who waste water. None of this is news to anybody. Why then, in the name of all that is sweet and good, is it impossible for the University of Utah to control their own water usage? Why does the U get to run their sprinklers at 10:00 am on Stillwell Field? Why does the U let broken sprinkler-heads spout water like Old Faithful for two weeks before fixing them? Why does the U seem to think that its sidewalks and streets need to be watered as much or more than its lawns?

Seriously, this baffles me. I have been at the U now for 6 years, and they have never used what I would consider smart water planning. Which reminds me:

Gripe O' the Day: Shoreline Ridge sprinkler timing. Over the course of six years, a lot has changed at Shoreline. A new playground was built for the growing number of kiddies. Garden plots for the green of thumb. Shopping carts for the long of walk. Even barbecue turrets and three-ton picnic tables were installed. A lot of effort has been made to make Shoreline a comfy and welcoming place to live. (Aside from the helicopter, but that is a different story). Why then, is it so impossible to change the timing of the sprinklers?

The picnic table by our house, by some perverse coincidence, is also in the region of sprinklers that turn on some time between 7:00 and 8:00 pm. Is there a more prime grilling time than 7:00 - 8:00 pm? Dana and I have gotten rained out at least four times, and so have started taking all of our bowls down with us, to cover the sprinklers when they come on.

This would not be so bad, except I have called the grounds people about this situation at least three times, and it seems as though the changing of the timing on a sprinkler system is tantamount to building a pyramid. Nobody there is up to the task. It is too complicated, too difficult, and makes too much sense.

Just a Gripe

Don't have a lot of time today, so lets cut right to the chase.

Gripe O' the Day: Cosmetic Youth and/or Rejuvenating Creams. What a crock this stuff is. How long has some quack somewhere proported having a magical substance that could reverse or stop aging, keeping people young? Ponce de Leon ring a bell? Fountain of Youth? I can only hope that in three hundred years, the words Oil of Olay will sound just as farcical and silly.

It seems like every three months some cosmetic giant comes out with some new discovery in anti-aging technology. They sell these little miracles in the form of bottles of inch-thick glass containing 2 tsp of mysterious goo, for upwards of $50, and make a killing at it. My gripe basically is this - - they are either A) Selling a product that does nothing different than the one they sold five years ago, or they are B) Selling the exact same product they sold five years ago, but putting some new pointless peptide in there, and giving it a new name.

Nothing ever changes. These 'new technologies' have not even come close to solving the age-old problem of aging. I have never read a headline even close to 'Woman Bathes in Oil of Olay for One Year: Stops Aging Completely.' To sum up, I don't think the creams work. If they did, there would be no reason to reinvent them every three months, or improve them. They are a rip off. My consolation: my beautiful wife has never bought any of it. Nor will she ever need to. Age is also a form of beauty.