A first, at last.

Last night I took Jacob, my 14 year old son to the Priesthood session of General Conference. Since he was very little I looked forward to the time when I would be able to take him. I remember three years ago, six priesthood sessions ago, telling the men that I had attended with that this was my last time I would go with them. This was because I was going to be attending exclusively with my son who would be 12 soon. I was so excited. The men looked at me funny and one spoke up and said, why can't we still go with you and Jake? I didn't have a good answer, but I told them that was not the way it works.

Fast forward six months, conference time. The long anticipated day had arrived, I called Jake in from the park across the street where he was playing with two of his friends. They were brothers and both were in his deacons quorum. Their step dad was not a member, so I told them to go get dressed and report to my truck promptly. I took all three boys. This became a tradition, soon we added another boy, and a couple of men along the way. Over the years it has been quite a gathering of friends, cousins, uncles and whom ever else needed some companionship. I have always been pleased with the company I've been in, but at the end of the night I felt like I missed the one on one time with my boy. Nevertheless we were doing our duty.

Yesterday afternoon I started calling the troops, there seemed to be a series of conflicts and circumstances that left Jake and I without anyone but each other. When Jake found out that it was just us he said he really didn't want to go. I pretended like I didn't hear that and went up to get dressed, despite he comments, he did the same.

It was a great session. I felt like the every message was either for me of for Jake.

Our tradition is to go to Cafe Posada, a quaint little Mexican restaurant, for supper. We had one hour before Simon's football game, so time was of the essence. Jake was not too thrilled to go with just me. Lately, the only talking we do has to do with him telling me I don't know anything and me pontificating on all the knowledge and wisdom I have and how much better off he'd be by listening to me. I decided to put aside the counsel and wisdom talk and just talk football. We had a wonderful time. I did alot more listening and praising and in turn, he more and more talking. It was less like a father/son talk but friends talking. I cannot speak for him, but I needed that. We had just the right amount of time together. I am so thankful for that opportunity. Later that night as I was reflecting I realized that at the next Priesthood session Chipper will be 12. So there it was, the first time and more than likely the last time Jake and I will partake in such an evening as this. I am thankful for this night.

Take a knee, boys.

I've done a swell job for the past few years putting my kids on teams with people who have strong leadership skills and a decent competitive nature. This has helped me evade being a head coach. I love being the assistant; show up when you can, spout off cliches and one liners about hard work or the importance of practice, stuff like that.


I have three boys in sports. Jake is in high school, he has paid coaches now. All I do is show up and sit in the stands. Simon is on a fine flag football team coached and managed by men with the aforementioned qualities. Chip is playing fall basketball with four of the boys from his perennial winter team. Same coach too. I help out when needed. All is well, I thought.


Yesterday I received a call from Chip's coach informing me that he will be moving in two weeks. That put the heavy burden of head coach squarely on my shoulders. I feel like Shooter, the character played by Dennis Hopper in Hoosiers.

Shooter is one of my favorite coaches and I feel a list coming on,

My Favorite Coaches, real and fictitious, in no order:

John Wooden- does it get better than this? It may, keep reading.


Tommy Lasorda- I love the portly little Italian man's passion. Go Dodger Blue!


Morris Buttermaker (Water Mathau)- I loved his unconventional approach to youth sports.


Mike Leak (William Devane)- Nothing brings estranged fathers back to their sons like little league baseball.


Dave Marshall- My J.V. basketball coach. He had a big heart, and expected us to do our best. He also would tell me before games if I got tired let him know otherwise I was playing the whole game.


Chuck Warnick- Ward basketball coach. He personified cool under pressure with a simple head nod and a "Howdy".



Mr. Montgomery Burns- On one episode he assembled a company softball team..it is one of the best Simpson's ever.




Bill Yost & Herman Boone- Football coaches at T.C. Williams High School. I would have loved to play for these guys. I remember the Titans.


So tonight I will be coaching Chips team. I will keep these coaching influences in the forefront of my mind.

Where I turn for peace?

I just cannot seem to operate in any other way than in crisis or high pressure mode. No matter what I put into a day I always drive home overwhelmed with all the things I didn't get done. (My drive home is usually rushed to make an appointment or meeting or practice or something.) Today was no exception, it felt like it was magnified with turmoil which is the case when I decide to go to the temple.

I got home and had to finish up some work, I was sending some files to the office, back to the TV in our room. Rachel came in and said she needed to lay down for a minute before the kids got home from school. She turned on the TV and I was a little bugged as I was trying to concentrate. I was just about to pick up and leave to room and I heard a voice and immediately a calm poured over me that extinguished the haste and angst that I was feeling...and that I had been feeling for weeks now. It was the voice of Elder Uchdorf, she had turned on the DVR-ed RS session of conference. I had an overwhelming feeling of gratitude for my sweetheart for always doing what is right and also what is right for me, I should not have it so good.

?Como se dice dimwit?

I was walking through a local drug store and over heard a guy voice his displeasure in the fact that there were Spanish signs accompanying the English ones throughout the store. As I stood there trying to make a contradistinction between the brand name pain killers and the generic I started to think about this guys comment:

"This is freakin' America, why do we have to put up with this?!"

Four things come to mind.

1. Put up with what? More reading? Is it that painful to read a sign with words that may be unfamiliar to you? It's Latin based pal, most of the words are very similar to the sixty or seventy words that you can read.
2. I like to think of it as a language tutorial, hey whaddya know? Panales are diapers! Use it to your advantage my man, and don't let it be another thing to complain about.
3. If you really have a problem with it your only real voice of protest would be to stop patronizing that store. Do you think store owners are doing it to be culturally sensitive or politically correct? No. They are pushing their products! Spanish speakers are consumers too, stud.
4. Lastly, and this just might be ticky tack, but if you choose to be a public nuisance I will choose to pick apart your terminology. Yes, this is America. However, Mexico is America, Guatemala is America, El Salvador is America, Colombia is America and it stretches all the way down to Chili. America: North, Central and South. I'm not an expert but I'd venture to say that the majority of the populous of the American Continents are Spanish speaking.

So in short, quit using my language Mr. Outspoken Dolt, if you are going to make such benighted, intolerant, and unintelligent comments.

Finding That Aloha Spirit Again

The other night Rachel and I went out to dinner. After all these years we rarely agree on a restaurant. To save time, and maybe even grief, I pulled out a coin and decided to let it do the decision making for us. We ended up at this little fast food Hawaiian Barbecue. Not ever my first choice, not Rachel's either but we decided to 'live and die by the coin flip', so we went in. As I was scanning the menu my eye caught a hold of an item that I found 15 years ago when I was in Hawaii. It's a great little morsel called Spam Musubi. It is a slice of Spam topped with sticky rice, wrapped in a dried seaweed leaf. It is so good. Thankfully it was as good as the ones I'd buy from the the Honoloa Market in Kapalua, Maui. So Aloha and Ma'halo to Ono Hawaiian Barbecue for the good memory churn.

Long live Spam Musubi!

Meet Me Half Way

Just a simple observation.

The first time I noticed this was at the drive thru window, years ago.

It has to do with drink sizes. I think the 'small' is a splash of liquid in a cup of ice which usually amounts to two or three straw swigs. Nowadays the large is so big that I fear it. If at the drive thru window, and if I try to 'one hand' that barrel 'o beverage I am at risk of dropping it or pulling a muscle, it is just too big. No cup holder can contain it, and no human should consume it.

So what is left? The medium. Yes sir, not too big, not too small...like the Grimm Fairy Tale says: not to hot not too cold, not too hard not too soft...the middle, the average, the midpoint, the mean, the median, dead center, par for the course, e pluribus unum (my Latin may be a little fuzzy).

So I order a medium drink. On more than one occasion the order taker has told me they don't have medium. "You don't have medium?"

"No sir, we have small, large and extra large"


"So this is just semantics?"


"Uh, no sir, just small, large, and extra large"


"Well then, can I have the median sized drink?"


"No sir, just small, large and extra large"


"Right I'll take the large, which is the median"


"Sir, we don't have.."


"Okay, I'm kidding, give me the large, (under my breath), which is the medium"


How is that possible that these folks cannot connect the dots between medium and the 'middle sized drink' they offer?

Well it's all for a shameful laugh, but tonight I didn't laugh, I almost cried. I went to get the kiddos Taco Bell for dinner. The order taker asked what kind of sauce I'd like. What did I tell her? That's right, I told her to give me the medium. She paused and said, "You realize that's the HOT? You see, we have mild, hot, and fire."

For the love of all that is good and holy on this earth, what is wrong with calling something medium?!!

Today's Success

I've heard alot about the power of suggestion, and the power of positive thinking. It is more productive to focus on the positive. The other day Rachel was telling me something that she had heard about teaching do's so the mind can visualize that action, and put it into practice. (There was more to it, but that was the jest) So the converse should be true right? If you say don't the mind will visualize the don't, planting a 'bad seed', so to speak.

Now, I got a new truck about two months ago. I miss my old truck, but that's not important right now. My new truck is fine, but I have had a problem with refueling. I am not smart enough to figure out why, but when I go to refuel the pump shuts off after a gallon, and about every gallon thereafter, how annoying! I guess the gas is pumping too quick and is getting backed up in the tube that goes to the tank and it shuts the nozzle off. I've done everything I can think of to try to make it work better, I can't figure it out.

Long set up I know, but what do those two thoughts have to do with each other? Well, the other day as I'm finessing fuel into my truck grinding my teeth and knowing that this aggravation is taking precious years off of my life, I happened upon a placard on the gas pump that discouraged 'topping off'. It was a picture of the proper position the nozzle should be placed into the fuel receptacle. It also showed a picture of an improper way to fuel with the warning that it was dangerous.

This is a sweet don't.

So I thought to myself, "It could only be dangerous because it must make the topping off shut off device thingy in the nozzle not work. Mine works too much, so why not counteract?" I did it despite my cautious nature and it works perfectly, no more problems at the pump. (I guess I'll make a mental note to not 'toke up' while I'm refueling in such a haphazard manner). This mini feat of success is on the heels if me doing what a picture showed me what not to do! HA! I love it when I am in the positive end of irony!