H.E.A.L.

Name Calling

2011-11-15T22:12:00.001-08:00

I remember when I was young. My parents used to tell me not to call people names because it was rude. Your parents probably told you the same thing. I still did it though. You probably did too. Name-calling is part of our culture.

I’ve been called quite a few names in my life, most of which I neither remember nor care about, but it seems to be more offensive now. I’m not talking about when people call you some surface-level name like jerk or idiot, but rather, when someone calls you a name that immediately lumps your belief system in with a group… usually a group that they have already stereotyped. That seems offensive to me. For example, in recent conversations I’ve been called a hippie, a Christian, a republican, a democrat, an independent, a musician, a nerd, and probably some other things I can’t remember. Looking at this list probably doesn’t seem too offensive, but whenever someone says, “You are a (fill in the blank),” it is always used with a negative connotation. After thinking about all of these names, I have decided to break down each one as best I can to identify or separate myself from the labels.

HIPPIE

I can identify with aspects of the hippie movement. I have long hair. I have worn headbands. I like Pink Floyd. I love old Volkswagens. Someday I hope to wear a beard. I never wear a bra. I’m a fan of alternative forms of energy, free press, and organic farming. I like healthy food. I have ‘spiritual’ experiences. And I think I would prefer peace to war.

However, I do not wish to associate myself with other characteristics often attached to hippies. I do not, and have never done drugs. I do not embrace sexual revolutions. I am not a dropout.

It seems that the term hippie is an adaptation of the term hipster, which was first coined in the 1940s. Although the hipster label today is used mainly for a person’s fashion choices, it was not always so. The term hip apparently came from African-American culture, meaning “awareness,” so calling someone a hipster was like saying they are aware. I feel like I’m pretty aware, so sure, call me a hippie.

CHRISTIAN

It seems that this term is used more negatively than positively these days, and you may be surprised to find out that the original term had negative connotations as well. In the Bible, the term is only used two or three times. Today, the meaning of Christian is a follower of Christ, but I learned recently that the term Christian was meant as a sort of insult from people who were not followers of Christ in the first century. The term actually means “little Christs” or “little Messiahs” (because Christ means Messiah), and it was used to make fun of people.

For instance, you have probably seen a singer that you can tell really wants to be Bono, the lead singer of U2. This singer will dress like him, try to sing like him, and mimic his stage presence. After you see the singer perform, you say to your friends, “They were okay, but that singer thought he was Bono.” The implication there is that the singer was trying to be something he’s not… something he’s not as good as. In the same way, people were saying about people who followed Jesus, “You think you are a little Christ.” I have to say that even in the negative context of being called a Christian, it is still a compliment. You are right. I am trying to be like Jesus, even though I’m not good enough to be like Jesus.

Now, I know that isn’t always what people are saying when they call others Christians. Often times, the implication is that the person is judgmental (which in itself is a judgment from the name caller upon the Christian). I’ll be the first to say that Christians aren’t always good at being little Christs, but I can only speak for myself and hope that you see that I’m trying.

REPUBLICAN/DEMOCRAT

These labels really get under my skin. As soon as you start talking about anything remotely political, you are labeled. Most of the time, it is an unfair, premature, and incorrect pigeon-holing of a person’s beliefs. First of all, I believe that there really is no such thing as a Republican or Democrat. There used to be, but I think the lines between them have become so blurred that politicians aren’t even sure which side of the label fence they sit on. That’s why you have liberal conservatives, conservative liberals and any other oxymoron you can think of (honest politician comes to mind). The elephant and the ass seem to be a thing of the past (that rhymes), but people still want to hold on to the idea of them. Based on the mascots alone, I personally don’t see why anyone would choose to be a stubborn ass over a wise old, never-forgetting elephant, but that is a different argument. Older generations talk about the two parties with a sort of nostalgia, as if the parties were really something to believe in at one point in time. Perhaps they were. Today, I don’t think we can put the same definitions on the parties that we once could though. Most people around my age and younger couldn’t care less about whether there is a D or an R next to someone’s name. They care about individual issues. I care about individual issues. If we talk about gun rights or most abortion laws, I’m a Republican. If we talk about renewable energy, environmental issues, and corporate regulation, then I’m a Democrat. I would argue that most people side with more than just one party depending on the issue. My point here is this: to call me one or the other is to completely limit my free thought as an individual.

I understand that people may tend to agree with one side more than the other, but why does there have to be sides at all? Why can’t a politician just be a person who feels certain ways about specific issues? I tend to think that the only reason a politician sides with a party, other than the chance that they generally agree on most topics, is to get votes (and money). I also tend to think that the only reason people side with a party is because their parents do. If everybody looked at each issue on an individual basis, rather than a party basis, we probably wouldn’t have parties.

INDEPENDENT

As soon as you say that you don’t subscribe to the above political dichotomy, people say that you must be an independent. All that label does is springboard you to being called another name: hippie. See above.

MUSICIAN

This is a tough one. Obviously, I am a musician… but isn’t everyone a musician nowadays? That’s the thing with being called a musician… it isn’t like being called a doctor or a teacher or a fireman. Those people have to prove something before they can attain those titles. When it comes to being an “artist,” anyone can claim they are one without really having to prove anything. It’s almost always a self-proclaimed title, which is exactly why I never claim to be a musician. In fact, when I was touring as a musician and people would ask me what I’d been up to, I’d start off by telling them I’d been doing a lot of travelling. It wasn’t a lie. Some would accept that and move on, while others would ask why I was travelling, at which point I would tell them I was in a band. Why? Well, when you run in to an old acquaintance at the Longview Starbucks and tell them you are in a band, a certain stereotype comes to mind. It usually includes being poor, doing a drug or two, playing local bars, and living with the parents. I suppose the last bit was true. But when a person realizes you have been travelling and getting paid, albeit little, for your musicianship, you immediately attain a higher status in a person’s mind.

Back to the point… “Musicians” nowadays are anyone who can play an instrument, and it really doesn’t matter how well they can play it. Everyone is a musician. So, if you call me a musician, I won’t be offended; but you’ll never hear me call myself that.

NERD

I am a nerd. I like math problems, grammar, computer programming, etc. I don’t wear glasses though, and glasses seem to be stereotypical of nerds. I think it’s harder to tell who the nerds are nowadays then it was back when my dad was in school. Back then, they all had tape on their glasses and pocket protectors. Today, with the ever-increasing use of technology, everyone is becoming a nerd to some degree. Nerds are becoming the majority. Nerds are taking over. Are you scared yet? I’m not. I’m a nerd.

In short, I’m an independent, artistically inclined, hippie-nerd who is doing his best to live up to the standard set by some other independent hippie named Jesus.

Brainless Bottling

2011-10-17T13:45:00.000-07:00

When I go to the sink and turn on the faucet, water comes out. How about that? How often do we actually think about that? Imagine if one day no water flowed out. What would you do?

Everyone and everything needs water on this planet, and no, I’m not talking about bottled water. Some of you may be surprised to know that few things ruffle my feathers more than bottled water. It is one of the most asinine things on the planet. Why am I so irked by this, you ask? If you really want to know the answer, then please read on. If you would rather go on living like we live on a planet with unlimited resources, then go back to your facebook and tell everyone what you ate for lunch today…

First, lets talk about the plastic used for bottled water. Many of you may or may not know that plastics are made from petrol products; in other words, they are made with oil. I have done some research on this, and I found that 17 million barrels of oil are used in the production of water bottles yearly; that is enough oil to fuel 1 million cars for a year. If you imagine a water bottle filled a quarter of the way up with oil, that's about how much oil was needed to produce that bottle. On top of that, we use roughly 18 million barrels of oil every year simply to TRANSPORT bottled water to various grocery and convenience stores. That’s 35 million barrels of oil every year for the production and transportation of bottled water. Since there are 42 gallons of oil in each barrel, that equates to almost 1.5 billion gallons of oil.

Now, I know what some of you are thinking. You are thinking, “But don’t we reuse this plastic by recycling it?” The answer is yes, but only to a small degree. It turns out that only 1 in 5 plastic water bottles are recycled; the other 4 end up in landfills or in our oceans. You’d like an illustration? Ok…

There are around 3 billion pounds of unrecycled water bottles around the world. An empty Boeing 747 weighs around 600,000 pounds. If you had a giant scale with all of the unrecycled water bottles on one side, you would need 5,000 Boeing 747s on the other side to even the scale out. That’s a lot of jets… and a lot of water bottles.

While I am on the topic of the bottles, lets talk about the harmful qualities they can have on the people who drink from them. Some water bottles, especially the big 5-gallon jugs used in offices and things like that, contain a chemical called BPA. I heard a scientist say that BPA may be one of the most potent toxins known to man, and we are drinking from containers made with it. BPA has been linked to all sorts of lovely things such as breast and prostate cancer, obesity, and neurological issues.

Fortunately, most bottles are now using a chemical called PET (Polyethylene terephthalate) rather than BPA. However, this chemical is now showing signs that it is harmful as well. I hear people all the time say that they drink bottled water because then they KNOW that it is clean water, but if we insist on drinking the purest water we can get, then why do we insist on putting it in plastic bottles that have been shown to leach chemicals into the water?!? Yes, sodas are bottled in the same kind of plastic bottles, but if you are putting soda into your body, you probably aren’t worried about the chemicals from the bottles.

Okay, enough about the bottles… lets talk about the actual water being put into them. Some bottled water makers are actually bottling filtered tap water from city water systems, achieving the same result as any homeowner with an inexpensive home filter. One of Auqafina’s water sources is actually the Detroit River. The next time you buy a bottle of water (which hopefully there is no next time), take a look at the back of the label and see if you can find where it was bottled. I think all bottles will say where they are bottled, and some even print on the label that the water came from a municipal water source. If the water was bottled in the same state that you are purchasing it in, then that water—get this—DOES NOT HAVE TO BE REGULATED BY THE FDA!!! For example, a lot of people in Washington buy Costco’s Kirkland brand of water, and it is bottled in Washington. Since those bottles don’t leave the state, they are not considered federal, so the water doesn’t have to be monitored in the same way. That’s probably one of the reasons it is usually cheaper than other brands.

So should you pay a bit more for a bottle of water that is regulated by the FDA? Well, aside from spending money on something you can get for free, it still isn’t the best idea. In the entire FDA, how many people do you think are on the committee to regulate bottled water? Yep… you guessed it. One. One person is given the task of monitoring all the companies that bottle all of the water. Did I mention that this one person also wears other hats for the FDA? That means that this person doesn’t even devote all of their time to bottled water regulation, so there is essentially less than one person doing the regulating. Doesn’t that make you feel good as you gulp down your “pure” water? But, in all fairness, I don’t think the FDA really does anything anyway… don’t even get me started on beef, chicken, pesticides, Monsanto, etc…

Anyway, back to the purity of the water in the bottles. The water coming out of your tap is probably more closely monitored than the water being put into those plastic bottles. Federal law requires that annual testing of municipal water quality be made available to the public, but there is no such requirement for the bottled water industry. The fact is that the industry is largely self-regulated with little federal oversight. Numerous independent studies have been made on the purity of bottled water, and the findings are pretty gross… even for the big name brands. Some test showed the water had traces of disinfectants, carcinogens, and even fertilizer ingredients. Mmmm. Pure. Don’t be fooled by the pictures of mountains on the labels or the clever names like Poland Springs. Poland Springs is not bottled from a spring in Poland. It is owned by Nestle. Don’t even get me started on Nestle…

This is just the tip of the iceberg. There are lots of reasons not to buy and drink bottled water, but these are only a few. Not only is it a colossal waste of money (up to 10,000 times the cost of tap water), it is a waste of natural resources. If you truly don’t like the taste of your tap water, then buy a home filter and use a stainless steel bottle. It will save you money, it will cut down on plastic in the landfills, and it will save oil (don’t even get me started on oil…). Just remember that every time you purchase a bottle of water, you are placing a vote in favor of bottled water.

I encourage you all to research bottled water companies. Look up things like Suez, water privatization in 3^rd world countries, Nestle in Michigan, companies pumping water during droughts, and nice things like that. Water is free, and corporations like Nestle, Coke and Pepsi are taking advantage of that by pumping hundreds of thousands of gallons a day out of local water supplies, then selling it back to the people they took it from. The rabbit hole is deep… probably deeper than the water supplies that the companies are draining… but not as deep as their pockets.

The Squirrel is Half Empty

2011-08-25T15:17:00.000-07:00

Today as I was driving home, I saw a dead squirrel lying in the middle of the road. Now, when I say middle, I mean he (we’ll assume it was a he) was lying perfectly between the two yellow lines. I thought to myself, “I wonder if that squirrel is an optimist or a pessimist.” Why would I wonder that, you say? You’ve all heard the age-old debate about whether the glass is half full or half empty, and I’ve always been a half empty type guy. Anyone reading my blog probably already knows that I’m a pessimist. So what does that have to do with the squirrel? Let me ask you this: do you think the squirrel made it all the way to the middle, or do you think the squirrel made it only to the middle? I’m thinking he ONLY made it to the middle. I bet if his family were around, they wouldn’t be saying, “Oh we are so proud of him! He made it all the way to the middle!” No, I think they would be grieving that he only made it halfway, because now he is dead. It’s a harsh reality, but a reality nonetheless. The squirrel made it halfway and died. His glass is not half full. Does this put to rest the debate about the glass? Probably not… but I can certainly relate to the furry little guy.

America?

2011-07-08T22:38:00.000-07:00

Well, it finally happened. Amber kicked me out of the house. She told me she wanted Harvard and I to go, so that’s exactly what we did. We left. She got what she wanted. So here I am, in my parents house, writing a blog. Yesterday was our 4-year anniversary, and the night after, she kicks us out. That’s life, I guess.

Okay, so it’s not as bad as I’m making it sound. Amber is throwing a bachelorette party at our house tonight for Chalayn, and I guess “No boys allowed” is not limited to just humanoids. Harv got the boot too.

In Amber’s preparation for the party, she brought home some Canada Dry ginger ale and I noticed something peculiar on the can. There was an advertisement for the new movie Captain America right next to the Canada Dry logo. Captain AMERICA. CANADA Dry. Does Captain America drink Canada Dry? That doesn’t seem very Captain-America-like. Is Canada Dry trying to seduce Captain America to head north and fight evildoers in the land of maple syrup? Possibly.

As I was considering all of this, I had a realization (I have a lot of those). Canadians are just as much American as I am. Canada is in North America. Brazilians are Americans, for that matter. South America. Mexicans? Yep… still Americans. I had this same realization a while back about using the term “Asian” for an oriental person. Indonesians are Asians. Russians are Asians too. You get the point. So don’t call me an American ever again, or I will be offended in the same way that a man from China would be offended if you called him an Asian. From this point on, people from the United States should be referred to as… well, here be a few options I’ve come up with:

United Statesian

United Statesman (I’m sure the women’s rights activist will fight this one)

United Stater

United States of American

United Staten

Unitese

New English

Five-O-er (because there are 50 states)

I don’t know. What can you come up with?

Now, this leads me to a new point. If the aforementioned hypothetical Chinese man were to, in fact, get offended for being referred to as an Asian, does that make him racist? The Chinese man would probably argue that calling him an Asian was the racist act, but, as we all know, China is inarguably in Asia, therefore making the Chinese man by definition an Asian. I would argue that HE is the one being racist, since by saying he does not want to be referred to as Asian, he is inadvertently saying that he does not want to be put in the same category as the Indonesians or the Russians. He must be racist against non-Chinese people that live in Asia. So there.

From the point I just made, you can bring it back to us Americans. I guess we can no longer disassociate with Canadians, Mexicans, Chileans or Brazilians by simply saying, “I’m an AMERICAN.” Well, as I’ve clearly just pointed out, so are they. But it is really just semantics, and now I’m starting to sound like a politician so I will stop. To wrap this up, my initial uncertainty about mixing Captain America with Canada Dry was clearly unwarranted. Captain America can, and MUST, fight the evildoers all the way from the northern-most point of North America to the southern-most point of South America. However, he may want to consider a wardrobe change and either incorporate all the flags of the Americas, or go for a more country neutral theme.

Moving on…Four years. Amber and Me. Thick as thieves. Two peas in a pod. One can short of a six-pack… wait… I don’t think that one applies… or maybe it does… you decide. Anyway, she is awesome and I’m proud to be her husband. I’ve probably been gushy enough about her in previous blogs, and this blog is already probably too long, so I will sign out. Until next time, watch out for the newest superhero movie:

Saber Stater: The Fight for the Fifty.

Post Script: All this talk of Ginger Ale soda reminded me of a rather crazy night we had recently. Our friend, Autumn, and my brother, Andy, came over the other night. Andy was going through some old stuff from his college days (in ’96) and found a pack of Juicy Fruit gum. He brought it over for us all to sample. It tasted like… Juicy Fruit. The gum’s flavor did not fade over the last 16 years, but as soon as you put the gum in your mouth, the flavor fades in about 30 seconds. Explain that.

I also happened to have a miniature can of Coke that my grandparents brought back from one of their European trips. The expiration date stamped on the bottom was also 1996. It seemed fitting to crack that baby open and see how the Coke held up to the last 16 years as well. It also had not changed. It probably should make you nervous about drinking Coke and chewing Juicy Fruit from now on. By the way, if you can sing the Juicy Fruit theme song, then you are awesome and old. Andy, Autumn and I all busted out and sang the tune while Amber just stared at us.

Toppers

2011-06-22T20:33:00.001-07:00

One year ago today, Amber’s Grandpa Bob passed away. Amber loved her Grandpa and still misses him a lot. He used to take her to Toppers restaurant in Longview from time to time, where he would get his cup of coffee and she would get her hot chocolate with whipped cream. They would talk about life, and they did this from an early age. Bob would do his best to instill wisdom into the young Amber by playing jokes on her or sharing his life experiences. One of Amber’s favorite stories is of when Grandpa Bob had her convinced that he wasn’t paying for her food and that, since Amber was only a 6-year-old (ish) with no money, she was going to have to wash the dishes. He played it well and had her so convinced that she had to go call someone to bring money.

Another time they went to Toppers, Amber’s Grandpa told her that he knew where every single one of his pens were. He was a meticulous man. This impacted Amber and she too desired to be that meticulous, although I personally have not seen the fruits of that desire yet. In fact, after we visited Grandpa Bob’s gravesite today with the Evald family, Amber proceeded to leave her keys and cell phone in the grass next to the head stone. Luckily, Amber’s aunt visited the gravesite shortly after and retrieved the misplaced items. Clearly Amber has no idea where all of her pens are.

Anyway, to commemorate the passing of Grandpa Bob, Amber and I had lunch at Toppers today. As we walked in, this is what the sign said:

Now, I understand that it was because Father’s Day was just a few days ago, but it still was special to Amber (and her mom, to whom I sent the picture immediately). Aside from the sentiment of the restaurant, I had mixed feelings about the place. We stood at the front counter for a couple minutes as one of the employees counted change into the register, waiting for her to acknowledge us. She did not, so we decided to seat ourselves. Unimpressed. Upon doing so, I ordered a cup of coffee and got Amber her hot chocolate. A screaming kid was running around (and I mean SCREAMING) until one of the old ladies working there yelled at him to quit running. This I actually DID find impressive. I was glad that she did it, but also sad that the child’s mother didn’t feel the need to parent. I guess the old saying is correct: when you don’t want to discipline your child for being an idiot, let the waitress do it. You’ve heard that saying before, right?

The rest of our time at Toppers was uninteresting. The coffee was bad, the food was okay, and the company was great. It’s your typical family-owned, local restaurant that serves diner food, has older folks working the place, has older folks dining there, plays Taylor Swift, Kings of Leon and Coldplay over the speakers, and parents the lazy people’s children. It was a nice time.

Fursts

2011-06-08T23:46:00.000-07:00

A lot has happened since my last blog, so let’s take a minute to get up to speed. Last night, something weird happened to me. While at Fred Meyer, I think some teenage girls thought I was a creeper. I was walking along the back of the store and needed to get to the opposite end when 2 girls came out of an aisle ahead of me, took a glance at me, and started walking in front of me. One kept glancing back at me, presumably to see if I was still “following” them, and then would whisper to her friend. Finally, after about 5 aisles of this, the other girl stopped entirely and let me pass, leaving her friend to keep glancing back at me. She stopped soon after, and I kept on going. I’m sure they were relieved that a creepy guy like me was no longer behind them. It made me feel kinda strange. I came home and told Amber, and she said they probably found me attractive and wanted to see if the back of me was as good as the front. Probably not the case, but I happen to prefer Amber’s interpretation of the event to mine.

This last weekend, Amber and I were able to get away to Cannon Beach for some much needed time together. Harvard was there too. We brought him. We think that he really loves vacation at the beach, because he was a very happy puppy. He got to sleep on the bed with us (he doesn’t get to at home), play in the ocean, run in the sand, sleep a lot, and get lots of attention from strangers. If you recall from my blog many months ago, he got lots of attention from strangers at Cannon Beach last time we were there, and everyone asked if he was a Weimaraner. I don’t think people actually believed us when we told them he was a Great Dane because they had never seen a blue one. Well, this time to the beach, only a few people asked if he was a Weimaraner. More people knew he was a Dane… maybe because he is getting taller.

October 2010:

June 2011:

We have some funny stories from our beach trip, but maybe the funniest was Harvard’s potty time. He did not want to go in the designated pet areas that the hotel had. He preferred the beach… nature’s gigantic litter box. He seriously didn’t go unless he was on the beach. The first time he went was hilarious. We were playing in the shallow waves when he decided to squat. Mid BM, a sneaker wave came up on him and startled him, cutting his time off before he was ready. It was sort of like the first time you ever encountered an automatic flush toilet and it flushed before you were ready for it too. It’s a bit startling.

The rest of the weekend was filled with relaxing, coffee, Pig’n’Pancake, walks on the beach, HGTV, Pizza a feta, talking to strangers about Great Danes, antiques (of course I got an orange lamp), etc. Very fun, and very sad to be back to reality. I'm sure Harvard is sad to be back too, because he can't sleep in our bed like this...

Part of our new reality that I have failed to mention up to this point is that Amber got a new job a little over a month ago. She has a full time job in the testing center at LCC, and she loves it so far. It sounds like the people love having her there too, so it seems to be a good fit. We like to joke that she has a big girl job now (or grown up job).

Lastly, I’ll share with you a few “firsts.”

Harvard stole his first morsel of food off our table while we weren’t looking, and he ate his first bit of chocolate in the same event. Our family friend, Wendy, gave us some homemade peanut butter (the clear draw for Harv’s nose) bars topped with chocolate, and Harvard thought he needed one too. It was no big deal.

Harvard also jumped out of my car while I was driving recently. I had to take out the front seat of my Acura so that he would fit, and like any other dog, he likes his window down. We had been out and about and were just turning onto our street when he saw our house and bolted. Luckily, I wasn’t going very fast and he landed in stride and ran straight to the garage. It was no big deal.

Amber mowed the lawn for the first time ever! Actually, it very well could have been the first time she’s ever even touched a lawn mower. There were a few funny moments when she would ask a silly question about the mower, get extremely flustered when she would run over a rock, and it was especially funny when she couldn’t get the darn thing started for a while, only to realize that she wasn’t holding the handle that allows the mower to run. It was cute. She didn’t think so.

By the way, while she was mowing, I was working too. I wasn’t just watching her. :) Here she is surveying her work...

Car Conundrum and Dog Data

2011-05-10T19:07:00.000-07:00

Amber and I have a problem. At some point in the womb, some of the wires in our brains got crossed, and yes, it happened to both of us. The problem is this: we both love little cars, and big dogs. Our favorite breeds of dogs are Great Danes (clearly), Mastiffs, Rottweilers, Huskies, Malamutes, Boston Terriers (not so big), Newfoundlands, etc. Our favorite breeds of cars are roughly the same size as the dogs we like. Amber has two dream cars: a new mini cooper, and an old mini cooper. My dream cars are old Volkswagens, and of course an old Honda Civic 1200. I think you are starting to see how these preferences could clash with one another.

Needless to say, a large vehicle would be beneficial for transporting Harvard around. Even our Subaru finds him a bit cramped. We have been searching for a vehicle that addresses our love of small cars and need for a spacious cargo area, but only a few seem to be adequate. Our price range puts some restraints on the options as well. Maybe someday we will get a new vehicle though. Who knows?

Since we have been proud dog owners, Amber has been reading a lot about dogs. She has a book called Inside of a Dog that she is loving, we watch dogumentaries, and she likes to read any internet/magazine article that talks about dogs. We thought we would share a few interesting facts about dogs that we have learned over the last nine months, so sit back and get ready to appreciate the K9 even more…

-Dogs experience the world primarily through their noses. The amount of information they can derive from a quick butt-sniff is utterly miraculous.

-They also have the ability to re-scan a room of smells with their noses, as we do with our eyes. When we mere humanoids enter a room with a candle burning, we smell the candle initially, but soon the smell neutralizes to our noses and we no longer smell it. A dog, however, can smell the candle, smell the carpet, smell the people, and then a little later, smell the candle again. It’s sort of the same as us looking at a picture in a room, looking away, and then looking at it again. They see with their noses.

-Most dogs will act crazy after a bath because they are trying to rub themselves on everything to regain their scent.

-A dog’s tail is very important to their communication. When they are walking with their tail up, they are “getting their scent out” for the world to smell. When their tail is between their legs (as when they are scared), they are trying to hide their scent so that whatever they are scared of won’t recognize them later. It’s similar to humans hiding their faces from the paparazzi because they don’t want people to know it’s them.

-In many cases, dogs better understand communication from humans than any other animal, including chimps.

-People that say, “It’s just a dog,” and imply that it is like any other animal doesn’t understand that humans have been domesticating them for centuries, and dogs now rely on humans in a way that no wild animal does.

-There are more dogs than Christians in both Portland and Seattle. This does not, however, take into account the amount of dogs that are Christians.

-It has been established that people who own pets live longer, have less stress, and have fewer heart attacks.

-The typical dog costs an owner $13,350 over the span of its life. This is substantially less than the cost of a child.

I suppose that is enough information for you readers. I hope you enjoyed learning more about “man’s best friend.” In case you are wondering why dogs are considered man’s best friend, lets refer to what Allan Evald told me many moons ago. He said something to the effect of this: dogs are called “man’s best friend” because if you lock your dog and your wife in the trunk of your car for a few hours, only one of them will be happy to see you when you let them out.

*Things you may be wondering about Harvard... He is almost 10 months old. He got neutered today. He weighed 113 pounds before the surgery. He probably weighs slightly less now.

Wisdom

2011-04-26T12:36:00.001-07:00

My 29^th birthday has now come and gone. I wear slippers all the time. I drink black coffee. I’m trying to eat healthier and (dare I say) more organic. I watch documentaries more often than movies. I’m old. Everyone keeps saying I'm almost 30, which is clearly true, but I don't care. It's just a number. I think Amber probably has a harder time with my age than I do. She thinks I'm old too.

Since I am so old and wise now, I feel it is necessary to share some of it with you:

The first thing was, I learned was to forgive myself. Then I told myself, “Go ahead and do whatever you want, it’s okay by me.”

Ok, so that was actually a Deep Thought from Jack Handy that was on one of my birthday cards (thank you Zac). I used to love deep thoughts, and my love has been rekindled recently. Just ask Shawnee McCown. I’m trying to light her fire, but I think her wood is wet.

My favorite birthday card came from my little nephew Dash. It was homemade and had stamps all over it. He colored in some of the stamps, but he was really eager to show me how many times he stamped “I love you” on the card. Probably the funniest part was when he was showing me the different stamps of “him and I” (which were a boy and a girl) and he pointed to the one pictured below and said, “That’s you and me in a bathtub.” Okay, little buddy. Clearly we are eating a giant slice of watermelon together, but I won’t correct you.

Speaking of watermelon, a juicer was given to me for my birthday (another indicator of my age) and I love it. Fresh juice is amazing. The only un-amazing part about the whole thing is the clean up. Tedious. In my shopping for fruits and veggies to juice, though, I came across a new discovery: dried cantaloupe. It’s delicious! So at least there is a LITTLE bit of wisdom that I shared with you.

It's the small things...

2011-03-30T10:49:00.000-07:00

I would like to take a quick moment to talk about a few inventions that I love. These aren’t your typical inventions, however. It would be really easy to list things like light bulbs, cars, computers, microwaves, and things like that, but the inventions I want to discuss are of a smaller scale; things that I use often; things we probably take for granted.

Candles – I love things that smell good, and the ambiance that they provide is a plus as well. In my opinion, most candles don’t smell very good, but when you find good ones, they are awesome. Amber and I have different views on candles, however. I prefer to light them only when people are coming over to the house. That way, hopefully, people will walk in and think, “Wow, it smells good in here. I can’t even tell they have a ginormous dog living in the house.” Amber, on the other hand, wants candles lit any time she is home because they (and I quote) make her “soul feel good.” Probably to a fault, I try to keep things good for as long as possible. That means that I won’t want a candle lit because it will “waste” it if we are just using it for us. I know it’s a stupid way to view things, and I promise I’m getting better about it. Sometimes when I come home and Amber is sitting in the house with no candles lit, I will make a big fuss about how her soul is and then I’ll go light a candle.

WD40 – This little spray has numerous uses and, as stated above, I love things that smell good. I like how it smells. I have considered wearing it as a cologne, but I came to the conclusion that I would probably only attract men, so I vetoed that decision. I have used this stuff for a number of things though, from fixing squeaks to removing duct tape residue. Most people probably don’t know that the WD stands for “water displacement” and the 40 indicates the 40^th attempt by the creator to come up with a formula for the water displacing spray.

Delay Pedals – As a guitar player, my playing ability, style, and taste all changed when I got my first Electro-Harmonix Memory Man delay pedal. A whole new world was opened to me… much like when Aladdin and Jasmine went on their first magic carpet ride… with Steppenwolf. Anyway, the way I see it, Pink Floyd was the first band to make using delay popular, and then U2 took it to a whole new level. The Edge really made delay commercial and changed the way guitar was played. That’s how I see it at least. I might be wrong. I have owned a number of different delay pedals. Let’s see… 1…2…3…4…5…6…7…8…9…10…11… at least 11 different pedals. I currently own 3 and have my eye on another one. Gotta sell something first though.

Oven Mitts – Ok, this one is a little more obvious, I suppose. Everyone needs something to protect their hands from 350-degree metal cookie sheets and things like that… unless, of course, your name is Allan Evald (my father-in-law). He is a master welder and his hands can handle extreme heat. Whenever I am doing something in the Evald kitchen that requires handling hot stuff, I just have “Ol’ welder hands” come and do it for me. The Ove Glove is actually an attempt to recreate the hands of Allan. Amber did not inherit this trait.

So those are a few things that make my life better. Speaking of making my life better, I went to Seaside with my brother Andy, Kaed and Dash for Andy’s birthday a couple days ago. We stayed overnight and had a good time. Lots of swimming, snacking and snickering. I love those guys.

Harvard Hates...

2011-02-04T18:56:00.000-08:00

Since my last blog, I have written 3 new blogs. Amber told me the first one was too depressing, so I didn't post it. In the second one, I tried to recreate a hilarious conversation that Amber and I had, but I could do it no justice, so it also never made it online. I don't even remember what the third one was about, but I'm sure there was a good reason not to share it with my 3-5 readers.

As for this fourth blog, it won't be much of a blog at all. I did make some videos of our dog though, so you can watch those if you want to kill some time. By the way, all the footage was taken on Amber's iPod, so the quality isn't good. Here they are...

In this one, Harv meets my new vacuum. I love both the vacuum and the dog.

This video is just some highlights from his puppyhood.

Missing Murdok

2010-12-21T16:34:00.001-08:00

There has been a lot going on since my last blog, but that goes without saying since the last one was a couple months ago. Sorry for the hiatus. I’m sure the 3 of you that read this have really been lacking during this time. I must confess that I have attempted to write one, but every time I do, I just write about Harvard. I figured that not everyone is as much of a dog person as I am and you probably don’t want to hear about him all the time, so I just haven’t written anything. I will give you this update on him though:

He’s growing and his baby teeth are falling out. He also graduated from puppy class.

There. That was quick. So instead of boring you with all the little stories about Harvard, I have decided to talk about a different dog. The one and only…

Murdok

We had to say goodbye to our good buddy this morning, and it was tough. My parents think he had a stroke, and he hasn’t been able to get up from his pillow for the last few days. It was time, but it was still really sad. However, instead of making this blog a downer, I have decided to share some pictures and stories about the little guy that always make me smile.

Story #1: When Murd lived down at Andy’s house on 23^rd, he would occasionally dig his way out of the back yard and go exploring. On one particular day, he followed a guy all the way down to Home Depot AND BACK! That’s around 40 blocks of walking round trip.

Story #2: After Andy added Buster to the family, the boys would get out much more frequently. One night Andy received a call from the principal of R.A. Long saying that the dogs had wandered into the school dance (another long walk). The principal said they weren’t causing any trouble and asked if Andy would wait a little bit before coming to get them. Apparently some students would walk up to the entrance, see the dogs, and turn around and leave. They thought the boys were drug-sniffing dogs! Buster and Murdok were causing students to leave that the administration didn’t want there anyway. What good dogs.

Story #3 (Mom told me this story today): On Murdok’s first 4^th of July, he stayed up at his grandparents house. My dad was out of town and Andy thought Murd would freak out because of all the fireworks, so my mom said she would take him for the night. Mom prepared a little bed for Murd on the floor of her room, and they went to bed. Around 3 in the morning, my mom woke up and found a little spooning buddy cuddled up against her back in bed with her (a big no-no), and when she rolled over, he lifted his head up and looked at her with a look of, “What’s the big deal, Grandma?”

Story #4: This story still cracks me up to think about. I was still living at my parent’s place and Matt Tallbut came up to hang out. When anyone would drive in to the driveway, the boys would come to the driver’s door to see who it is, and this day was no exception. Matt got out, bent down to give them a scratch, and one of the dogs immediately jumped up and whacked him right in the sweets. Matt then shut his door and made his getaway. Attempting to get away from the boys, Matt went running for our garage and the other dog took out his legs, sending him tumbling to the gravel. This was easily one of the funniest things I had ever seen, and probably still is. Imagine the whole scene…

These are just a few stories that come to mind, but I’m sure Andy and my parents could add a lot more. Considering Murdok was a white boxer, he outlasted all expectations and overcame the odds. It’s amazing that he lived to almost be 10 years old when you think about all that he lived through. He jumped out of the back of Andy’s truck while he was driving down Mt. Brynion AND got run over by the back tire, he took down a pit bull with the help of his brother Buster, he had a softball-sized tumor removed from his side that was cancerous, and he sniffed a little too close to the rear end of a porcupine and he lived through it all. He had the heart of a champion. Murdok was an awesome dog, and he will surely be missed.

Haystack Harvard

2010-10-13T23:21:00.000-07:00

This last weekend, Amber and I went down to Cannon Beach for the marriage retreat that our church puts on every year. Since Cannon Beach is so pet-friendly, we decided we would take Harvard with us to see how he liked vacations, the beach, etc. The trip definitely had its ups and downs, but overall it was a lot of fun.

After taking Harvard over to meet his great-grandmother Florence on Thursday, we headed down to the beach. He was perfect in the back seat of our car, and even did the normal dog thing and stuck his head out the window.

When we reached Warrenton, the three of us were all getting pretty hungry so we stopped at a Dairy Queen. As I took the little guy into the grass to do his business, I found a wad of cash. A whole eight dollars! Almost free dinner! Not a bad way to start the trip.

When we got to the hotel, they were very excited to accommodate Harvard. They brought him a treat, which he loved, and showed us the pet area where he was to do his thing. After he did his business in the grass, I grabbed a plastic bag and began the cleanup. As I threw the bag into the trash, the ring on my right hand slipped off and fell to its demise into the pet poo can. I opened the lid, looked in, and decided it wasn’t worth it. It was a $5 ring, had no sentimental value, and didn’t warrant the dirty recovery job. Now if it had been my wedding ring… yuck.

Harv loved our hotel room. Long and carpeted, he was able to do his sprint exercises. I have to say, the first night was a little difficult with him. He was super hyper (maybe from the puppy crack treat) and was just not being a very good dog. I even said to Amber that I was worried he would be a bad dog when he got big… really big. Well, apparently he heard me, because he was a saint the rest of the weekend. I think he found Jesus. Naturally, I baptized him with the hose when we got home (he loves the hose).

We took Harvard onto the beach for about 15 minutes, and he was a little unsure of it. Wind, sand, and waves were all somewhat troubling to him, but he did okay. I took my camera to take some pictures of him, but alas, the battery was dead. All I got was this picture with my phone:

When Amber and I adopted our Great Dane puppy, we knew he would be a topic of conversation; what we didn’t realize was how many people would want to meet him. As stated before, Cannon Beach is very pet friendly, so we took him down to the main street for some lunch. As we ate outside of Pizza a Feta, everyone who walked by wanted to meet him and know what kind of dog he was. Upon finding out he was a Dane, they were tickled to pieces. Apparently the blue color is puzzling to people, and they often think he is a Weimaraner or an oddly colored chocolate Lab.

It was a fun little work vacation with our little family, and we of course are very proud of our little buddy. He even learned a new game at the beach: hide and seek. When he finds us, he gives us big hugs. It’s very cute. By the way, he has officially doubled in size since we got him. Harvard is now 12 weeks old and just over 30 pounds.

I leave you with a picture of Harvard laughing hysterically in the back of our car...

I missed you...

2010-09-18T13:02:00.001-07:00

As I was out on tour, I realized there are a few things that I missed from home that I don’t always consider. Of course, I missed my wife, family, friends, and things like that, but the following list is not so predictable.

My Bed – When Amber and I got married, we slept in her full size bed with a mattress that sunk to the middle like a hammock. We are not the largest people in the world, but the full size was still pretty small for us. Early on in our marriage, we decided to fork out some money on a nice mattress, so we bought ourselves a Sleep Number bed and it has certainly been worth it. I often forget how nice it is until I sleep in a different bed and wake up with a sore back. Needless to say, the bus bunk and hotel beds were not what I was used to sleeping on, so when I was reunited with my mattress after 7 weeks, I sunk right in.

Water – I’ve always said the northwest has the best water (which is why the coffee is best here), and I was again reminded of this very convenient truth out on the road. There were numerous times when I would turn on the shower and smell sulfur, or I wouldn’t be able to rinse the soap off. Our water is good.

Toilet Paper – Most hotels and music venues buy pretty cheap toilet paper. This one doesn’t need any explanation. Just imagine notebook paper… but thinner… and without the lines.

Weather – I love the feeling of cold rain, so when it is hot and rainy, I get upset. I also don’t like feeling sweaty as soon as I dry off from a shower. That’s why I enjoy the northwest.

Towels – Our towels are nothing special, but when you compare them to the hotel towels or the venue towels, they are a dream. Again, hotels and venues want to save money, so they buy cheap towels. These towels are almost as thin as the toilet paper and only slightly more absorbent.

So that is my list of the little things I missed about home. Don’t take what you have for granted. Your towels and toilet paper are a luxury.

Ups and Downs

2010-09-14T10:50:00.001-07:00

When my brother, Andy, did his best man toast at my wedding, he said a bunch of nice things. His closing line of the toast was something to the effect of:

“May all of your ups and downs be in private.”

This has certainly been a week of ups and downs, but most of them have been quite public. For starters, I got home from the tour. I quite enjoyed the whole thing, but also missed Amber and home terribly, so I’ve had mixed emotions upon re-entering normal life. I must say, however, that there has been nothing normal about this week.

Like I said, the tour was a lot of fun. I met a lot of great people and had many a fun time. It has been a number of years since I played guitar on a stage like that, so it was a good reminder of what I love. Thankfully, this tour rekindled some of the once glowing embers in my musical mind and has me excited about music again. Some of you may be aware that I used to be in a band that didn’t end well, and that whole experience really took the wind out of my sails for a long time. Now, though, I am reminded of my love for hunting for guitar pedals, and I am excited to make some of my own music again. I’ve been on an extended recording hiatus for different reasons, but mostly because I was simply burnt out. Not anymore. Now my only enemy is time and money.

Back to the rollercoaster week… On Monday night, Amber’s brother Josh and his wife Becky welcomed a little 6lbs 10oz nugget of joy into the world. Becky gave birth to their first child, a daughter named Jaxyn, on Labor Day. Labor Day! Ha! Apparently Jaxyn got the memo. She’s a good-looking, healthy little girl, and maybe, just maybe, Josh will start his own blog someday.

As soon as they were sent home from the hospital though, littlest brother Jordan decided he wanted to have his turn. Early Thursday morning, him and a couple friends decided to take a break from their World of Warcraft and head to the gas station for some energy drinks. On their way home, one of those terrorist deer jumped in the road forcing the driver to swerve, and the boys went off-roading in a Honda Civic. The car rolled down an embankment and somehow landed on top of Jordan, who was thrown from the vehicle. Miraculously, after being pinned under the car for about an hour and being life-flighted to the hospital in Vancouver, it appears that Jordan escaped with only a big gash in his head (which has been stapled shut) and a pretty nasty concussion. His body is pretty darn sore too. The other boys are fine; one of them getting some stitches in his arm. I’d say, all in all, they were all extremely lucky. Feel free to thank the Lord for His hand in it.

Our friends Judah and Becca Kirkwood also added a baby to the world this week. His name is Noah and he is destined to be a great ship builder someday… if he chooses. Amber and I also added to our family, which can be read about in the blog below. Harvard is growing up very fast and we can see the changes in his body and mind. He is learning the house rules and getting bigger every day. We just realized that when he is a mere four months old, he will be as big or bigger than my parents’ boxers. Wow.

Harvard meets his cousin Zoe:

Sleeping Harvard:

Harvard:

It's A Boy!!!

2010-09-11T09:03:00.000-07:00

That’s right. Amber and I have finally added to our little family. We just adopted a Great Dane yesterday, and he is awesome. His name is Harvard, but you can call him Harvey. Now, I know what some of you are probably thinking. You are thinking, “Why a Great Dane?” Well, Amber and I love big dogs, and we wanted something with a really good temperament, so all signs pointed to the “gentle giant” that is snoring at my feet at this very moment. We have been looking for a puppy for a while now, but we wanted a specific color and we wanted to do it right, so we waited until we found the right breeder. We actually went to see a different puppy a while back, but the breeder was sketchy and the puppy was not Harvey.

We actually came across this breeder while we were at the hospital for Jordan (Amber’s little brother). He was in a car accident (more on that in a blog to come) and his ICU nurse happened to have a blue Dane, and also happened to know that the breeder she got hers from had one male puppy left. It was fate. We contacted the breeder that day, and the next day we had Harvey. I would just like to take this opportunity to publicly thank Jordan for getting in a car accident, taking a helicopter ride to a hospital in Vancouver, suffering a major concussion, getting staples in his head, and freaking the entire family out all for the sake of Harvey joining the Lemiere family. What a great little brother. (he is doing well, by the way)

One concern we had about the puppy was that he was the last one picked, but that concern quickly dissipated like a dog fart in a windstorm. Most people choose their Danes from pictures over the Internet without meeting the puppy until it is delivered to their house, and they usually pick by the dogs markings. Even though Harvey was the last one to find a home, he is still the one we would have picked out of the litter. We got to see him with 3 of the other puppies who were shipping out on Tuesday, and he was our favorite. He is almost completely solid blue, he was the biggest of the litter, and he has the mildest temperament. In fact, as I was crouching down to meet the dogs, the other 3 puppies were biting at my jeans and my shoe laces and Harvey was sitting between my legs with his head resting on my thigh. Temperament was our biggest concern, so his physical qualities are just icing on the cake.

On our way home, we stopped at the hospital so the Evald family could meet their new grandson/nephew. The hospital allowed us to bring him into Jordan’s room, but as we were waiting outside, we were given a glimpse as to what our lives will be like when we take Harvey into public. Everyone that walked by commented on him and couldn’t resist petting him. Many asked if he was a Weimaraner because of his blue coat, and everyone was thrilled to find out he was a Great Dane. “I’ve never seen one so small,” was the typical comment. Don’t worry folks, he will get bigger. Much bigger. Here is a picture of Amber with Harvey’s 170 lbs dad, Apoc:

After one night of having our new son in the house, I still like him. As soon as we took him home, I instantly felt that love that only a parent can feel and finally knew what Amber’s mom is always talking about (that was for you, Sheri). So feel free to come visit our son and us. My brother, Nick, recently had a son and I know that lots of people brought him and Tiff meals since they are new parents, so feel free to do the same for us. :) Just let us know when you want to meet Harvard!!!

Wife Week

2010-08-28T11:49:00.000-07:00

As I write this blog, I sit at a picnic table just outside our bus behind the venue at Virginia Beach. It is approaching noon, and the weather is perfect. Sipping my cup of catering coffee, I reflect on the last 7 days. This has been one of the best weeks ever. Amber got to come out here on the road with me and it was a blaster. We got to hang out in New York City for a couple days, catch a few concerts, go shopping, and spend a lot of much needed time together. When we first saw each other, there was this initial feeling of, “Oh yeah… you ARE a real person and not just a voice on my phone,” but it didn’t take long to wear off. Amber amazed and surprised me with a few things: she got her hair done and got her nose re-pierced. Even after flying a red-eye, she still looked smokin’ hot.

The first day was pretty uneventful. We attempted to walk around, but after getting about ¼ of a mile from our hotel we got dumped on by the New York clouds. At that point we decided to go back to our room and order a pizza. Enjoy a picture of us here:

The second day in New York was much more successful. We decided to take the subway everywhere instead of a cab, so we saved quite a bit of money. For the whole day, we only spent $13.50 to get around the city. It was a good thing too, because we needed all the money we could get to keep the muggers from taking our phones and bags. We only got mugged twice, but we managed to talk our way out of giving all of our stuff to them by telling them we had connections to the Chicago mob and that… ok, I’m joking. We didn’t get mugged at all. All we did was walk around, go shopping, share a couple meals together, drink coffee, and go to a concert. A friend of mine sings in a super-duo called The Civil Wars (see video at end of this blog) and they just happened to be playing in the city on our day off. Most of you know that I’m a critical perfectionist so this next statement may come as a shock to you, but The Civil Wars were flawless. Amazing. It was a great day and night with the wife of my youth.

Day three was a show day, and we played at the Jones Beach Amphitheatre. Pretty cool venue, but poorly designed. As you can see in the picture below, it is right on the water. The bad part about it is that the lower level floods all the time, and this night was no exception. Everyone in front of the stage was standing in water. You can imagine how load-in and load-out were. Good thing there is a crew that takes care of that. :)

The weather was still cool and wet, so I had a little hot cocoa date with this hot girl I found backstage.

After the show, Amber did her first overnight bus ride with us. Since neither of us are huge individuals, we decided to try to share a bunk. It was tight, but after being apart for so many nights, we were willing to make sacrifices to make it work. Sacrifices like being able to bend my knees at all while trying to sleep. By the 3^rd night drive, we had the bunk sharing down. I should add here that a bunk is smaller than a twin bed, and there is only about 2-2.5 feet of clearance from top to bottom; basically, it’s like sleeping in a coffin. If I had to be stuck in a coffin with someone though, I would definitely choose Amber as my coffin-mate.

All in all, Amber saw 7 concerts while out with us: The Civil Wars, Madi Diaz, Skillet, Creed, and Theft (3 times). I’m not sure which concert was her favorite, but I’m pretty sure I know which guitar player was her favorite. Hopefully Amber will write her own blog on here about her week with us, but I have a hard time getting her to. All of you that have either her phone number or email address, you should bug her about it repeatedly until she does.

To wrap this blog up, I would like to share a something I’ve learned over the years of my travelling: names of places are funny. Every morning when I wake up, I reach for my phone, open the weather channel app and see what the day has in store. The app uses gps to locate where you are to give you the most accurate info, and when I located myself the other day I was in Coxsackie, NY. It’s just down the road from Climax, NY. This reminded me of other humorous towns such as Blue Ball and Intercourse, which are both in PA. Lastly, and possibly the strangest, is a state park in Kentucky: Big Bone Lick State Park. It can be found where Big Bone Road intersects with Beaver Road. I kid you not.

Lovely Lady Lands

2010-08-22T04:32:00.001-07:00

The waiting game. Lets be honest, I have been playing the waiting game for the past 26 days; but as the hour draws near, I grow restless. I have been home a total of around 80 hours in the last 936, and in that 80 you have to account for all the time spent sleeping, building the shed, and all the other little things that use up our time and cause Amber and I to be away from each other. What I’m trying to say is that I haven’t seen my beautiful wife much lately. What has been keeping me sane is a lot of time spent on the phone and iChat, making sure that Amber’s picture is the last thing I see before closing my eyes every night, and the far off thought that I will be reunited with her again in the future. Well, ladies and gentlemen, that future is in a few long, arduous hours.

Here I am, riding on the bus while she is flying through the air, and I can’t sleep. I attempted to go to bed early, but Bo seems to be lacking when it comes to graceful driving (more on that later). Mixing a rough road with the anticipation of a hug from my not-so-rough wife makes for a very unrestful night. It’s funny to think that she could be getting better sleep sitting in her airplane seat than I am laying down in a cushy tour bus. I did get her a window seat, though. Enough about that. I need to change the subject before I go crazy with excitement.

Please allow me now the opportunity to tell you a little bit about our new driver, Bo. He has been with us for about a week now, and the verdict is in: I miss Lem. Bo seems to be a nice guy, but he is like an unstoppable rebel force when he is driving. I don’t know if the roads are really that bumpy or if he is actually running over people that get in his way. Either way, he somehow managed to shave two hours off of a 13-hour trip a few nights ago.

Our first encounter with him was interesting. He started driving and immediately lit up a cig. Sorry Bo… not on this bus. Suddenly the smoky hotel room smell that hit us the first time we entered the bus made sense. This was Bo’s bus. He complied with our “no smoking on the bus” rule and kept on trucking… or bussing. The second encounter was no better. He got on the bus and Matt asked him how his hotel was, and Bo responded with a string of colorful words to describe how he felt about said hotel room. Lem? Are you there? We have since found out that Bo is ex-military, he was in Vietnam, and in the winter he transports convicts on the bus. No wonder is a little “rough around the edges.” I wasn’t aware that translated into the roads though. I swear he took the bus through a skate park the other night… half-pipe and all.

The show at Lake Winnipesauke was great the other night. It was the smallest crowd of the tour so far (somewhere in the 3000s) but we managed to sell 55 CDs… a record for Theft. After the show, the venue lit two fire pits backstage and put out all kinds of s’mores stuff. They had the traditional stuff—grams, mallows, and milk chocolate—as well as some new things, such as strawberry mallows, dark chocolate, peanut butter cups, and York peppermint patties. I tried a s’more with a peppermint patty, and I’ll tell you what… pretty darn good (excuse my language). I suggest you try it next time.

I suppose I should try to get some rest before my lovely lady lands. Enjoy your week and don’t ever take your spouse for granted!

Baby Steps

2010-08-20T09:59:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was a very relaxing day off. We are in the lovely New Hampshire, staying just off of Lake Winnipesauke. The weather here is perfect, so we took advantage of it. Here is how the day unfolded:

-Got off the bus around noon and went for a little run.

-Took a dip in the pool and read poolside for about an hour.

-Austen and I went to the pub across the street and got some lunch.

-I walked around the shops for a bit.

-Matt, Ryan and I went into the little town and played mini golf, rode go-carts, and played a few video games.

-The three of us went back to the hotel and I ate my leftovers from lunch.

-Ryan and I went in the hot tub, which had way too much chlorine in it, so when he turned on the bubbles there was about 3 inches of foam on top of the water.

-I went back to the hotel room, cleaned up, watched TV and finished the night with talking on the phone to—you guessed it—Amber.

Doesn’t sound too bad, does it? It was like having a day of vacation. If you’ve been following our tour schedule, you may have realized we went from Scranton, PA to Lake Winnipesauke; or, maybe more appropriately, from The Office to What About Bob. Some of you will understand that…

I leave you with a few memorable quotes from What About Bob:

“What if I'm looking for a bathroom, I can't find one, and my bladder explodes?”

"Roses are red, violets are blue, I'm a schizophrenic... and so am I."

“Isn't this a breakthrough, that I'm a sailor? I sail? I sail now?”

“Good morning, Gil. I said, good morning, Gil.”

“I feel good, I feel great, I feel wonderful...”

Theft Tour: Episode II

2010-08-18T14:06:00.001-07:00

Road Ramblings

2010-08-17T09:10:00.001-07:00

It’s been a little while since I last posted a blog, and for that I apologize. It’s just that I haven’t felt like there is anything that has been really noteworthy in the last few days. It’s all kind of the same old thing: play a show, ride on the bus, miss Amber, etc.

The shows have been getting better since that lighting incident. In fact, our show last Saturday in Indiana was our best one yet. We didn’t have any technical difficulties, we all played well, and the crowd was great. The only negative thing I can say about it was the weather: extremely hot and humid. Very wet.

The bus travel has been getting better and worse at the same time. At first, I was having a lot of trouble sleeping while the bus was moving. At every bump, I would jolt awake in fear of the bus rolling… it must have something to do with that van wreck I was in. Anyway, I no longer do that. I still wake up with each bump, but it is no longer out of fear; it is simply because a bump interrupts my slumber. I have been sleeping pretty well the last two nights though. I’ll bet it’s because the humidity has been sucking the very life out of me.

The bus has gotten worse, however, in that we had to say goodbye to our bus driver, Lem, the other day. He was apparently only filling in for the guy who usually drives the bus we are in, so we now have Bo. By the way, if you ever want to drive a tour bus, you are going to have to shorten your name down to one syllable. We were sad to see Lem go. He was a super nice, southern guy with his gray hair combed back and a black mustache who wanted nothing more than to be an Oakridge Boy. He’s actually going to be driving their bus next week. Go get em’ Lem.

In other news, I was in Cincinnati last week and had dinner with Joel, Kristy, Nevaeh, and Jesslyn Matthews. It was fun seeing some familiar faces out on the road, and I even got a free pair of Toms out of it. Actually, I haven’t tried the coupon yet, so we still have to wait and see if I will really get another pair of Toms. Since Joel manages a Trader Joe’s, he brought me 3 bags of vegetable chips for the bus. Not a bad deal. I should hang out with them more often. :)

That’s about all I have for you in this update. I guess there were a few things for me to talk about. Normally I wouldn’t be able to elaborate on such weak topics, but I have been living with Amber for 3 years now. Maybe she is starting to rub off on me. By the way, I get to see her in 5 days. Oh, what a reunion it shall be…

A Poor Performance and Personalities

2010-08-10T13:30:00.000-07:00

Sioux City, Iowa. Hot. Humid. Stormy. Sunny. Windy. Calm. Birthplace of our worst show yet. This was a show I was looking forward to because we would be playing indoor, as opposed to the outdoor arenas we have been playing. Being that we are the opening band, the sun is still out for our set so it’s not as cool as playing in only stage lighting (in my opinion). Maybe if I just change my perspective a little and take into consideration that the sun doesn’t hang around for the other bands, it would make me feel better. The sun likes the band I’m in better. Back to the show…

Please allow me to tell you why our show was so bad. The lights. I know I’m starting to sound picky—I want stage lighting, but the lights made our show bad—but it’s a little more complicated than that. The front of the stage is lined with lights that shine up into your face, and the lighting guy decided that those were the only lights we were going to get on this night. The only problem is that they were so bright, we couldn’t see our pedal boards, our fret boards, or even the audience. There were times that I missed pedal changes and came in on wrong notes because I was literally momentarily blinded. Between songs, Matt (singer) tried to talk to the crowd, but it was useless because we couldn’t even see them. Another contributing factor to our terrible performance was at one point during one of the songs, one of the band members (I’m granting him anonymity) messed up, which caused me to get lost, so I screwed up royally and we had a momentary train wreck. We were able to salvage that, luckily.

To top off this amazing show, those lights that I mentioned at the front of the stage started falling off. The light crew was really angry and blamed us, but fortunately I set up the flip camera behind me during the show and managed to capture the whole event happening. Watch:

As you can see, Matt simply stomped his foot and the lights started to go. I was able to show the video to the tour manager and crew, and our bacon was saved, so to speak.

Speaking of saving bacon, this next paragraph will have nothing to do with it. I took a personality test yesterday for fun, and the results are in. I am an ISTJ. Reading the description of an ISTJ is like reading the blueprint that God had when he made me, according to Amber. It is pretty funny how accurate it is though. I had Amber take the test too, but hers is not as spot on. It’s still fun to read if you have some time. She is an ENFP.

Eric: http://personalitypage.com/ISTJ.html

Amber: http://personalitypage.com/ENFP.html

My Latin Translation

2010-08-08T16:01:00.000-07:00

Since today is a day off for the band, I figured it would be a good time for a day on in the blog world. This will be brief as I don’t have much to update you on, but at least it’s something. Last night, we had a show at Fort McCoy in Wisconsin. It was pretty cool hanging out with some Army and Air Force troops, and we even got to share the stage with the Red Rocker himself: Sammy Hagar. Josh (brother-in-law) asked me if I could get his autograph, but, in all honesty, the only time I saw him was when he was on stage. Sorry Josh. There was no mingling. But it was cool nonetheless.

I would also like to take a moment to recognize my amazing wife for all that she does. She has now officially completed her Bachelor’s degree from WSU, and will be graduating Suma Cum Laude… that is Latin for “Smarter than the almost all of the other graduates.” I’m very proud of her, as you should be, for all of her hard work and dedication. In fact, that is the way Amber does things. When she cares about something, she will put her whole effort into it and it will turn out great. Whether it is doing an art project or an essay, singing, dancing, coaching, tutoring, wedding planning, shower planning, being a wife, being a sister, being a daughter, being a friend… whatever she does, she’ll do it with all of her heart. Many of the things she does tend to be more “behind the scenes,” which is why I’m using this blog to give her credit where credit is due. She’s an amazing person, and she’s even learning to take care of the house stuff while I’m away.

If you know Amber, you probably already know all this stuff, but again, I want to give her the credit she deserves. I can’t wait to see her. She’s my favorite.

Sorry to those of you who are getting sick of all this sappy stuff. I’ll try to be funny again soon.

Week One

2010-08-06T11:24:00.000-07:00

Here is a video that Austen put together from our first week of tour...

Missing the Mrs.

2010-08-05T20:25:00.000-07:00

Right now is officially the longest period of time that Amber and I have been apart since we've been married. So what do you get when you have two days off, a computer, an amazing wife, and an incredible yearning to see said wife? You get a video that looks something like the one below.

WARNING: this is sappy and silly.

08.02.2010 Clips

2010-08-03T10:20:00.000-07:00

Two new videos for your viewing enjoyment:

Gleaning from Grandparents

2010-08-03T09:35:00.000-07:00

The venue last night had the best catering of the tour so far. It was great. They even had a bunch of fruit pizzas for dessert, and Ryan managed to snag a whole one for the bus. I had a piece for breakfast. My love for dessert has been passed down from many generations on both sides of my family.

Speaking of my family, I had a serious revelation yesterday: I am becoming more and more like my grandparents. I think it is awesome, but it also means I’m getting old in my old age. I mentioned in a blog a little over three months ago that I was becoming this way, but I have some hard evidence to back this claim up now. As I mentioned, we played at a casino last night. This particular casino had a Starbucks in it, but I never even saw it. A year ago, I would have gone right to it and got myself a nice beverage, but yesterday I chose to stick with the drip coffee in catering… black. Grandma Doris would take this opportunity to proclaim that she likes her coffee like she likes her men, and I am beginning to agree with her… on the coffee part.

So there is your proof. I have now chosen normal black coffee over a drink from Starbucks, built a shed, quoted my Grandma Doris, and had dessert for breakfast. I am becoming like my grandparents, and these are just a few examples…

Day Off

2010-08-01T22:46:00.000-07:00

Today was an eventful day off. It included a walk to a Storebucks (Starbucks in a grocery store), a swim in the hotel pool, lunch at Chili’s, and a movie. Allow me to give you the highlights of each event:

Storebucks: they had samples of their Vanilla Chai Frappuccino and they taste just like pumpkin pie with whipped cream on top.

Pool: no highlight. Just refreshing.

Chili’s: the hotel we are staying at is close to a casino (which we are playing at tomorrow night) and they have a limo shuttle to take a person to and fro. Our tour manager convinced the driver to shuttle us to the restaurant instead of the casino, so we showed up in style… sort of. Here is a video of all of us being technology nerds in the limo:

Movie: we saw Inception. How does anybody write or direct a movie like that? Crazy. I liked the movie. The only downside to the movie was that the theatre had apparently not been updated since it was built, so the sound was terrible. One mono speaker behind the screen just doesn’t cut it when a movie is supposed to be heard in surround sound. The theatre must have run out of coal to shovel into the heating system too, because it was freezing in there. When I got back to the hotel, I made a cup of coffee just to try and warm up. Still a good movie though.

After the movie, a cab came to pick us up. I know… a far cry from our previous limo ride. The driver of this cab was hilarious though! He was a sexagenarian (60 year old) man who wasn’t afraid to speak his mind. Immediately after we got in his Crown Vic, his cell phone started ringing so he answered. Upon hanging up, he said, “That guy is an a#+hole.” We all laughed at his openness, and then he asked us where we were from. Austen told him Los Angeles, to which he replied, “So what do you think of this sh*#hole?” Again, we laughed. I told him they had a really nice theatre complex, of course. He proceeded to tell us that the people here are rude, they suck, and… you get the idea. It was an entertaining cab ride to say the least.

I leave you with this little video of us waiting for the cab after the movie. Enjoy:

Horseplay

2010-08-01T14:01:00.000-07:00

This blog is from yesterday, but I’m just now getting around to posting it…

It’s been a couple days since my last blog, but I have my reasons. We have now spent two nights on the bus, and the first night was a little rough. The Pennsylvania Turnpike is one of the worst and most expensive roads to drive on, and it makes for a bumpy sleep. With each bump, I would jerk awake because I was having memories of the van wreck that I was in. I didn’t sleep to well that first night.

As I mentioned in the last blog, our bus is a little worn out. Another reason for the bad sleep was all of the rattling happening throughout the bus. However, with a Phillips screwdriver and some strategically placed gaff tape, rattles can be eliminated. Sleep on the second night was much better.

Our show last night was at a Casino. Still no sound check. It went a little better, but still not the best. Not to worry though. Tonight’s show went really well… probably because we ACTUALLY GOT A SOUND CHECK!!! Amazing how those things help.

The tour has been pretty fun thus far. Austen and I went on a little run today and then he and Matt played some horseshoes.

I feel it is important to add here that the Creed guys, as well as their wives and the crew, are all pretty cool. We had dinner with the band and the wives (minus the Stapps) and then quite a few went out and hit the tables. Scott Stapp (singer) keeps to himself, and I actually haven’t even met him yet—he even has his own bus.

So there is my update. Hope you enjoyed my lame video. For those of you wondering where this tour will take us, the link for all of the show dates is below. Goodnight to you all…

http://www.theftspace.com/shows/

Tour Bus Tour

2010-07-28T19:17:00.001-07:00

Well we got on our bus today. It is a little older than we expected… a little worn out… a little out-dated… but it is certainly better than touring in a van. We’ve got wireless internet, satellite tv, a toilet (only number 1 in there), bunks, and even… (drum roll)… a VCR!!! Nice. I put together a little video so you can all see my home for the next 6 weeks.

I hope you enjoyed that. The other guy (besides Lem) in the video is Austen, the drummer. Yes, he’s single. Anyway, I am currently sitting in our green room listening to the thundering low end of Creed’s kick drum. I watched their first two songs, and man was it hot! I mean that literally. They have lots of pyrotechnics. I hear they even set a Guinness World Record for most pyro on a music tour. That should be some incentive for you west-coasters to fly out to a show and see us!

So our first show has come and gone, and it was a rough one. I played like garbage (not the band), and our monitors were… not even there. Because we are the first of the three bands to go on, we get the last sound check… if there’s time. Needless to say, we didn’t get to do a proper sound check, so they were really screwed up. Apparently that wasn’t needless to say, considering I said it. But yes, it was a bumpy set. I suppose it can only get better from here.

The other band that played tonight was Skillet, who I have crossed paths with several times with another band I used to play in. It’s kind of fun seeing them again.

So that’s it. Another blog. That is 2 in 2 days. Watch out.

Air Error

2010-07-28T09:14:00.000-07:00

Most of my previous blogs have been about something, but this one is more of an update blog. First I must confess that I made an egregious error this morning: I wore a hooded sweatshirt for my flight. If you read the blog that preceded the previous, you will know what I’m talking about. Don’t worry though. I have my pillow, and once my airline coffee and cran-apple juice goes through me, I can see about relieving some pimple pressure.

As I sit in my airplane seat, I am left with a tough decision: watch a Miley Cyrus movie, or write a blog. The sentences to follow should be a good indicator as to which option I chose. As I sit on this plane for the next 4.5 hours, I am left to my thoughts and some music. Before the approved electronics could be turned on, many thoughts were whirling through my mind. Thoughts like: I haven’t had hot tea in a long time; my eyes feel dry; I wonder if my eyes feel dry because of the airplane air or because I only got about 3.5 hours of sleep last night; I’m going to miss my wife; my wife is amazing; my family is awesome; I wonder if I packed everything; yep, I packed everything; I’m tired; I wonder if people are reading this over my shoulder; etc…

The main thoughts though are about my family (but now I’m thinking about how the words “thoughts” and “though” look next to each other in a sentence). My family was a huge help and blessing to me over the weekend. I was only home for 3 days, but much was accomplished. A shed was built in my back yard making it possible to park both cars in the garage. That kind of thing becomes exciting when you get to be my age. All in nick-o-time too.

For those of you that actually follow my blog—and I use the term “follow” loosely—you are probably already aware that I am about to embark on the largest-scale tour that I’ve ever done; a tour that I had no idea I would be doing a month ago. I was out mowing the lawn at the end of June when I received a text message from one Daley Hake, and he had a proposition for me: to play guitar on a tour coming up in a few weeks. It seemed like a stretch, but everything fell into place and here I am on a plane, on my way to meet up with the band in Virginia. Pretty wild. I feel it is necessary to point something out here: swinging a hammer at a nail while gripping it with your fingers is not the best idea under the sun when you are leaving the next day to play guitar on tour. I managed to only strike my digits a few times and I came out virtually unscathed.

My intent with this blog for this season is to keep you guys updated on the tour happenings as best I can. I even borrowed Jordan’s flip camera to better document said tour. I realized that I did a horrible job documenting all my travels before, so hopefully I will do better this time around. Feel free to call or text me to let me know it’s been too long since the last update, but I think I’ll do okay since our bus will have wireless internet.

The hardest part about this tour will undoubtedly be the time spent away from Amber. Luckily she will come out on the road with us for about a week, but that isn’t enough time for two people that still love each other after all these years. J Feel free to have her over for dinner sometime while I’m gone. I know you all will take good care of her in my absence.

To close this blog down, I would like to give a list of thank yous for our little party yesterday. This part could be pretty boring, so I suggest you either stop reading now or you imagine that I just received an award of some kind and this is my acceptance speech.

Thank you to:

-Dad for all your hours helping me build the shed.

-Mom for helping a bit with the shed, but mostly mowing, edging, weed-eating, and weeding our yard. Also for the potato salad.

-Tim for helping hold the shed door in place while I drilled it in.

-Brad for doing the same as Tim, as well as being the photojournalist for the day.

-Allan for your hours put into the shed as well, and for staying after most everyone else left so you could move stuff from the garage to the shed.

-Dash for pounding a few nails and for carrying a few pieces of wood. Also for giving me a big hug and telling me you love me even with a mouth full of peanut butter cracker.

-Andy for bringing Dash, especially since he helped more than you. Just kidding. Thanks for manning the grill as well.

-Kaeden for head butting me with your football helmet.

-Tiffanie for the watermelon.

-Nick for your wife bringing watermelon.

-Grandma and Grandpa for the beans and anything else you brought.

-Sheri for bringing the drinks and the workers.

-Jordan for stopping by long enough to drink one of my Snapple Peach Iced Teas.

-Josh for giving me the latest on the Blazers.

-Becky for making time in your busy schedule to come to our barbeque/work party.

I think I got everybody. If not, I’m sure I’ll hear about it eventually. For those of you that weren’t there, it sounds like a party you wish you were at, doesn’t it?

Quick recommendation for those of you who like ambient music: get the soundtrack from The Book of Eli.

L.A. Story

2010-07-16T10:45:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I was in downtown L.A. having coffee on a little patio in front of a Starbucks with Daley Hake and a photographer friend of his. As we sipped, I noticed a homeless man walking around (at least he seemed to be homeless). He had on a homemade black garbage sack jacket with the hood pulled up over his head; it was 90+ degrees out. He was walking very slowly, and he was coming our way. As he approached us, he stopped and asked in a small, humble voice if we would do him a favor and buy him a coffee if he gave us two bucks. I said sure, asked if he wanted iced or hot coffee, and went inside to get it. He wanted hot coffee, of course. As I waited, I began to wonder, “If he has the money, why doesn’t he come in and get it himself?”

After getting him a grande coffee, I walked back outside to see him standing there with his right hand reaching towards me. He was not, however, reaching for the coffee. In his hand were two one-dollar bills. I in no way could have taken money from a homeless man and felt good about myself, so I told him to keep it. He said in that same small voice, “I appreciate your kindness,” and walked away.

In many cases, I don’t like to give homeless people money. I’m usually pessimistic about what they will use it for. In fact, when Amber and I were in Victoria on our first anniversary, we passed a man sitting on the sidewalk who asked if we had any spare change. I hit my jeans pocket and the change in there jingled around, so I reached inside. As I did so, the man said, “I’m gonna be honest: I’m just gonna buy booze with it.” I took my empty hand out of my pocket, turned around, and walked away. He yelled, “Hey! At least I was honest!” to which I replied, “And I appreciate it.”

The man on the L.A. sidewalk was different though. Maybe it was his voice. Maybe it was his slow movements. Maybe it was his humble demeanor. He wasn’t pushy and didn’t act like he deserved it. He was my kind of homeless man. He was a humble, resourceful, coffee-drinking man who kept his word.

*Side note: since this man was homeless, can his garbage sack jacket really be homemade?

Plane Travel Unravelled Plainly

2010-07-16T09:12:00.000-07:00

Airplane travel can often be unpleasant. The security checkpoints, the stale plane air, the crying child that always happens to be a row or two away, and many other things can contribute to the negative flight experience. Because I have been to my fair share of airports and flown many times, I feel I have at least a little bit of wisdom to share with you to make your travel more enjoyable.

The first tidbit of information I want to share with you is about your shoe choice. You will want to choose a loose fitting, preferably laceless pair for two reasons:

-First, the TSA requires you to remove your shoes at the security checkpoint, and this makes removal much quicker and easier.

-Second, as you fly, your feet will swell up causing a normal shoe to be tight and uncomfortable. You may consider even wearing slippers. I’ve done it. I also take my rings off during flight because my fingers also swell.

Another obvious tip is to bring your own headphones and media player. There is always a screaming child nearby, and this will certainly help. Even if you don’t have a media player, bring headphones or even earplugs. Many planes have headphone jacks for you to listen to something.

The next thing was taught to me by my brother Andy, who was taught by his college basketball coach. It may gross you out a bit, but you may find that it is a very convenient truth. An airplane is a perfect place to pop zits. That pressurized cabin really brings them to the surface, so if you have a big one the day of the flight, chances are that it is going to blow during flight. Just go into the bathroom and start squeezing. Be sure to wipe off the mirror when you are done.

This blog is starting to get boring (“Starting?” you are thinking) (Yes, I know your thoughts). I’ll just blow through these last things so you can get on with your internet-ing. Wear something warm, but don’t wear anything with a hood. Hoods come between your neck and the seat, and when you sit in a seat anywhere from 2-12 hours in a row, this will be uncomfortable. If you are too warm, then take a layer off, but plane cabins are often chilly.

Always fly with a pillow. Even if I have two carry-ons, they never tell me that I can’t have my third item. Pillows make the world better, so why would you not think to take it flying? It makes it more comfortable. Have you seen the airplane pillows? They are tiny!

Lastly, always get either Ginger Ale or Cran-Apple Juice. Ok, this isn’t that important; it is just what I always get. It’s kind of a tradition. Maybe you would like to join in my tradition?

Sorry this blog read more like an instructions manual than anything else. Nobody reads those for pleasure. The next one will be better… I promise…

Canals, Cars, Cargo, and Coincidences…

2010-07-08T11:54:00.001-07:00

There has been a lot happening in our world lately, but I don’t have time to go into all that just yet. Instead, enjoy a short story from my morning…

Today I drove down to Portland to see an Audiologist. She injected silicon into my ears (weird experience) to make an impression of my canals, which I shipped to JH Audio in Florida. That company will, in turn, create a molded set of in-ear monitors for me. I had to ship the impressions 2^nd Day Air in order for them to get there by Monday.

There is your back-story.

As I was driving down to my appointment, I was on I-5 just coming in to Portland, so it was pretty slow going with all the traffic. It didn’t seem like the time for rush hour, so I postulated that there might be an accident ahead. No big deal; I left with plenty of time to get to my appointment. Contemplating the day before me, I began to consider my options of either FedEx or UPS for my shipping needs. I started imagining scenarios where the carrier’s shipping truck gets in a wreck and all of its cargo is thrown all over the highway, which would undoubtedly delay my package from arriving on Monday. Literally as I was mulling over this scenario and which mail carrier would be more reliable, I heard a loud crash. Looking in my rearview mirror, I was shocked to see a lady in a maroon Volvo involved in an accident with none other than… a FedEx truck. Now, we were in traffic so we were only going about 20-30 mph, so it was merely a fender bender. No injuries, and no strewn packages. I imagine the FedEx packages were delayed at least an hour from that simple automobile navigation error though.

Needless to say, I decided to use UPS. Was it a sign? Maybe. Was it a coincidence? Maybe. Interesting.

Side note: there was an accident that was slowing down the traffic, as I had hypothesized. Oddly enough, one of the vehicles involved was another Volvo. Good thing they are the safest cars on the planet, because it appears that bad drivers drive them.

Other side note: why is it called “Shipping” when the cargo is transported in planes or trucks? The next question that begs to be asked is “Why is it called ‘CARgo?’”

The 6-D's

2010-05-16T08:57:00.000-07:00

There are a few quick stories I want to share with you readers today; some are heart warming, and some are heart wrenching. Ok, so there is really only one that is the latter, but prepare yourself nonetheless. I like that word: nonetheless. It’s like three words in one. It’s like the trinity. It’s like a good face wash. It’s like a nail clipper. This is a tangent.

D-1: Dogs

The first story is of two of my favorite people in the world: Buster and Murdok. My mom told me a story about these two fellas that brought joy to my heart. The PUD meter reader came up to—you guessed it—read the meter, and she told my mom that she loves coming to the house because she loves the boys. She said that they are so nice that the other meter readers actually talk about how they too love reading my parents meter, simply for the chance to rub the ears of two of the sweetest dogs (I mean, people) in the world. I love those guys, and apparently so do a lot of other people. I don’t know a single person that has anything bad to say about them.Why can’t all Christians be like them?

D-2: Dash

The next two stories are about my nephew, Dash. He had a big birthday bash today, and unfortunately Amber and I were unable to attend. I do know, however, that Dash will love me nonetheless (there it is again). Andy recapped a conversation between Dash and Kaeden to me the other day that went something like this:

Kaeden: Dash, who do you like better…

Dash: Eric.

Before Kaeden could even get the rest of the question out, Dash already knew that he liked me better. That warms my heart. It’s the same feeling as when he tells me out of the blue that he loves me “so much.”

D-3: Divorce

The next story about Dash is the heart wrencher. To preface this, Kaeden is often called Kaedster in the Lemiere house, and Dash can’t quite say Blackmon yet, so he says Backman. A few nights ago, I was playing some Nerf basketball with Dash down in Andy’s basement while Amber and Andy were chatting away. Dash and I were having a good time, giggling and the like, when all of the sudden Dash had a complete mood change. His face dropped as he looked at me and said, “I like Kaedster Backman.” Tears welled up in my eyes, because on this particular night, Kaeden was not staying at Andy’s house. I knew Dash was really saying that he missed his brother and wished he were playing Nerf ball with us. I picked Dash up and he rested his head on my shoulder. He just turned 3, but he already knows the unfairness of being away from his big brother. It is so hard to see families bifurcated by divorce, especially when there are youngsters. I’m so tired of our culture thinking that LOVE is a feeling, rather than an action. This story continues to break my heart.

D-4: Decrease

I knew that last story would be tough to read—at least, it was hard for me to write—which is why I put it in the middle. That way you ease into it with some good stories, and now can ease out of it with some better stories. This story is about Amber’s grandpa Bob. You may have read in a previous blog that he has cancer in the brain, but there is good news: the tumor is shrinking and everyone is very hopeful. We are not out of this one yet, but this is certainly great news for the family. We all appreciate the prayers.

D-5: Dean’s List

Speaking of Amber, she got a 4.0 this last semester at WSU. She would probably never share this info with most of you out of her humility, which is why I get to share it for her with whomever reads this. You can be proud; I am.

D-6: Disillusion

The last D of the 6D’s has more of a philosophical undertone to it. Amber and I are currently on a weekend getaway at Eagle Crest Resort (thanks Todd), and we seem to be somewhat fashionable for these parts. We went to a movie in Bend, and the lady bifurcating the ticket stubs told us we were just the cutest couple and proceeded to compliment our styles (whatever those are). Later, as we were walking along the sidewalk in downtown Bend, a couple girls walked by and commented to one another about how cute Amber’s purse was. I was feeling pretty good about myself and the arm-candy that accompanied me, when I saw my reflection in a large storefront window, and all was lost. As stated in previous blogs, I am a critical perfectionist, so it wasn’t hard for me to see an extremely large handful of imperfections in the way I looked. This brings me to a question that I’ve been asking myself for a while now: would you be more insecure about your appearance if you never saw your reflection, or if you saw it multiple times a day like you do now? I don’t know the answer. You probably don’t either. It’s cud to chew on though.

All these short stories turned out to compile a pretty long blog. I hope if you read this far, you considered it at least somewhat worthwhile. I think I will end this in sort of a Sesame Street way:

This blog was brought to you by the words Nonetheless and Bifurcate, and also by the number 4.0. Thanks for reading.

D-End (I couldn’t resist).

Below is a video of Dash in his Halloween costume. You may have already seen it on Andy's blog...

Urinal Yearnings

2010-05-03T11:29:00.000-07:00

Since Amber and I bought our house and began fixing it up a bit, I have been making a list of things that we would want if we were to ever build our own place. Some of these things are pretty typical for new homes, and some are a bit more eccentric. I like to think that Amber and I are somewhat creative people, so the idea of building a house can at times get me excited. I can’t tell you all of our ideas, since they are classified, but I will tell you one thing that I want in particular: a urinal. I know that most females reading this will think that is a stupid idea, but think of how easy it would be to clean. No problem.

I have always struggled with urinals for one reason though, and that is the shape of them. It seems that urinals are made in a parabolic shape. Sure it is pleasing to the eye, but what a poor design! If you can recall back to your geometry days, a parabola has some unique characteristics. There is a point on the axis of symmetry, called the focus, which plays a big part in everyday applications of a parabola.

For instance, if you have ever watched a football game on TV and seen the guys holding a big dish with a microphone in it, you have seen this in effect. When sound waves enter the dish (which is a parabola), all the waves are redirected back at the microphone (which is at the focus), making it possible to hear player conversation from the sidelines. The same is true for a flashlight. The bulb is placed at the focus, and all the light waves bounce off the shiny parabola to send the light out in parallel waves to make a more intense beam. Here is an illustration:

As you can see, parabolas are great in real-life applications. A satellite dish is another example. Now, think back to the urinal, and imagine that you are standing at the focus of the parabola. That’s right! All of the pee will splash straight back out onto you! (refer to the figure) I told you it was a poor design!

I have good news for you though, my friends. A couple days ago, Kelly McCown and I were at Chevy’s restaurant and the urinals there were more practically made. No splash. Just relief. This is the type of urinal I want in my future house.

Now, I cannot prove that toilet companies actually made urinals in an exact parabolic shape, but I can tell you that they should have done a little more porcelain engineering. Hey, maybe that’s what I’ll major in…

Soon-To-Be Sexagenarian

2010-04-30T13:49:00.000-07:00

Well, my 28^th birthday has come and gone, and I am left feeling old. I must admit, I’ve been feeling old for a while now; after all, I am halfway through my late twenties. Actually, since I am a math nerd, I feel I must clarify and note that turning 28 marks the 1/3-point through my late twenties… I’ll be halfway when I am 28.5. Anyway, as my age keeps climbing, I realize that I am becoming more and more like my dad and grandpa. This is not a bad thing, as I love and respect them both; it is just a strange thing to realize.

For instance, when my dad used to play basketball with us at open gyms and the like, I can remember him running around with a smile, cracking jokes and just having fun. I play basketball quite a bit still, and I find myself being less competitive and more laid back, making jokes and just having fun. Don’t get me wrong, I still hate losing and get down on myself when I don’t play well, but I’m not about to argue with someone over a call or anything like that. I’ve also noticed that I sweat more when I play, which is also indicative of me aging (not to mention the soreness my body feels from time to time).

As previously stated, I added an integer to my age. As far as presents go, I was pretty excited about what I got from my parents and grandparents: a hose, and a wheelbarrow. See? Old. I asked for these things because they are necessary to the outdoor projects Amber and I have started around the house. What happened to the days of asking for Legos and G.I.Joes? I suppose all those hours of building things with Legos were preparing me for my eventual homeownership. I did build a wall of landscaping bricks around a little tree last week, which obviously could never have been accomplished without my vast Lego experience.

Yes, I’m getting old. I now pass on the vanilla coffeemate and drink my coffee black, I get excited about making my yard look nice, early bedtimes and getting up early bring me happiness, and I even have sprouted a few chest hairs recently. That last bit may have been too much info for you, but I’m an honest fellow. Of the three Lemiere boys, I am the shortest, weigh the least, and I am the least hairy. My Grandma Doris would argue that I’m also the ugliest. That is called getting the short end of the stick. Some day, when I’m really old, I hope to have the gift of a beard, which will certainly etch my name into the books for the ugliest grandson. Even though Andy is her favorite grandson, she still asks him regularly if his razor is broken.

Since it is more than likely that I will only continue to age, I suppose I just have to accept these things. At church last week, I realized that I went to high school with a girl’s sister, to which she replied, “You’re old.” In Monty Python and the Search for the Holy Grail, there is a scene where Arthur, King of the Britains, comes upon a person collecting filth and says, “Old woman.” You know the scene… it is actually a man named Dennis, and he states that he is 27 and NOT old. Well, I’ve got news for you, Dennis: had King Arthur found you one year later, he would have addressed you correctly… except for the woman part.

(Wondering about the title? A Sexagenarian is someone in their sixties. I'm currently a Vicenarian.)

Buick Blunder

2010-04-07T16:50:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I saw a bumper sticker that read:

"I'm not spoiled. I'm just well taken care of."

As I looked at the car on which the bumper sticker sat, I scoffed. Here in front of me was a late-80s Buick, faded and unwashed. The green fuzz that had begun to grow on the bumper indicated a sponge had not caressed the car in quite some time. (To clarify, the bumper sticker looked relatively new, and was obviously not placed on the car immediately after it rolled off the lot in the 80s) I read the bumper sticker again. Spoiled? And you drive an old beat up Buick? How could that be? I thought to myself, "I have a nicer car than this person, and mine is a 94 Acura, which is also faded and dented. I don't consider myself spoiled."

Suddenly I had an apostrophe (that's what Smee said in hook when he meant epiphany). Lightning had just struck my brain. The person in front of me could be the happiest, most content person on the planet, and here I am judging them by the car they drive. I'm an idiot. So I repented and kept driving.

Moral: being spoiled does not mean having nice, new stuff.

Pepper Pain, Grandpa Bob's Brain, and Bella's swain

2010-03-28T13:28:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, March 27^th, was a busy day for birthdays. Officially, it was my brother Andy’s birthday, but there were a multitude of birthday parties. We ended up going to our friend Angela Green’s 30^th birthday party, and her husband Rob set up an Amazing Race for all to take part in. It was a fun day, but Amber and I have never seen the show, and we got paired up with Brad and Tiffany Phillips, who have also never seen the show. Needless to say, we came in dead last. We were ok with it though.

The very first part of the game was a little Angela trivia game, and for every question answered correctly, your team could remove one of the possible “foods” that we were required to eat. In the end, our team was left with a can of green bean baby food, canned Vienna sausages, and two habanero peppers. Brad downed the baby food like a champ, the girls attempted the sausages, and I took on the peppers. I popped the first into my mouth and chomped down. As my teeth broke the skin, a sweet taste hit my tongue and I initially thought that it was a joke. I thought, “Rob put normal peppers out, but told us all they were habaneros.” Amber had started to nibble at the other, so I grabbed it from her and ate it since the first one wasn’t bad at all. Suddenly, it hit me. Ouch. Ouch. Ouch. I didn’t gag or vomit or anything like that… I simply hurt… badly. Now, I like spicy things and thought I could handle this pepper. After all, I like the sriracha chili sauce, I like jalapeños on my subway sandwich, and I always go for the hot salsa. This pepper was different. For those of you that have had a habanero, you may know what I’m talking about.

After wolfing down the sketchy foods, we set out on our tasks. Many of these tasks required running, which I am fine with. However, when there are some habaneros stewing in your stomach, any activity is less enjoyable. In fact, if you are ever angry with your stomach and feel like punishing it, go ahead and have an iced coffee from Starbucks and top it off with a couple peppers that are around 100 times hotter than a jalapeno. That’ll show it who is boss. I don’t suggest actually doing this though, because you only punish yourself.

On a more serious note, we have a prayer request. We found out recently that Amber’s grandpa Bob has cancer in his brain. This is a man that has already beat lung cancer, partly because he quit smoking cold turkey after smoking the majority of his life. After having half of a lung removed, we thought we had this thing licked; but it seems it has spread a bit. Frankly, I’m a bit surprised that cancer has the guts to actually mess with a guy like Bob McCarty. Bob is known for not taking any guff from anyone and is the type of guy that will pay thousands of dollars in lawyer fees just to get out of paying a 200-dollar fine from the city for chopping up a tree in front of his house. He told the city that if they want him to keep the tree, then they have to come clean the leaves off his yard.

So please add our grandpa Bob to your list of things to pray for. He is going through radiation and is still in good spirits, but cancer is always a scary fight.

To end this blog on a lighter note, let’s discuss the Twilight movies. In a word: terrible. Bad acting coupled with a plot encompassing a teenage girl in love with a vampire and a werewolf is a recipe for rubbish. I don’t understand the hype. I can kind of understand the teenage girl fetish for a buff Jacob and a pale Edward, but do these movies deserve all the buzz? I guess I’m just not into the whole staring, heavy breathing, over-emotional portrayal of forbidden love between teens. Actually, to be fair, Edward is something like 104 years old, so this movie series is promoting some serious cradle robbing. And by the way, where do Jacob’s sweet jean shorts go when he transforms into a wolf? Shouldn’t he be naked when he becomes human again? Now that would really drive the teen girls wild…

*Note: I am starting my own club. The required attire is cutoff jean shorts, tennis shoes, and no shirt. Club activities involve cliff diving, running in the woods, fighting, and throwing temper tantrums. Now accepting applications.

I leave you with these...

The KEY to success for a band is the band name... (a satire)

2010-03-13T17:25:00.001-08:00

Your band name defines you. Without a good band name, your band will never get out of the local scene. It doesn’t matter how good your band is. Yes, the key to success is to have the right moniker. Without it, you may as well hang up your instruments, cut your hair, and find a normal job. So, how do I get a good band name, you ask? Read on.

There are three keys to consider when choosing a name for your band. The first is to have a number somewhere in the name. This can be random or meaningful, and the number can be spelled out or in numerical form. Examples:

U2, B52s, UB-40, Blink 182, Matchbox 20 (originally Matchbox Twenty, but changed it later), Five for Fighting, Jackson 5, 7 Mary 3, Three Dog Night, Zero 7 (utilizes both), 98 Degrees, Maroon 5, Sum 41, 10,000 Maniacs, Four Tops, M83, All 4 One...

The list goes on and on. The second thing to consider is putting a color in your band name. Examples:

Maroon 5, Pink Floyd, Green Day, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Black Eyed Peas, Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, Silverchair, Deep Purple, Black Sabbath, Blue Oyster Cult, The Black Crows, Cream (does this count?), Green Jelly, James Brown (this is a joke), Pink, Yellowcard, Great White, White Snake, White Lion, White Zombie, The White Stripes...

This list goes on as well. If neither of these ideas jump out at you, then there is still one more to consider. Try putting two random words together (this often works with the colors too). Examples:

Radiohead, Motorhead, Coldplay, The Talking Heads, The Flaming Lips, Maroon 5, Silverchair, Wolfmother, Goldfrapp, Lifehouse, Nickelback...

I’m sure you can think of more too. Again, I can’t stress enough the importance of these three keys when starting a band. If you want to be the biggest and best band in the world, incorporate all three keys into the band name… just like Maroon 5…

Miracintosh

2010-02-26T00:45:00.000-08:00

As I was driving out of my neighborhood one sunny Sunday afternoon, I passed the home of Matt Milligan. He was working in the yard, so as any passer-buyer would do, I gave him a whistle. He looked up, I stopped, and we exchanged some short banter. He said, “You need to update your blog.” That was a few days ago. In the past few days, I have sat down to write a new weblog, but couldn’t find anything interesting to write about. Well you all can brace yourselves now, because there has been some excitement worthy of Internet documentation.

This morning, I got up and differentiated some equations. That’s the news. Isn’t that exciting?!? Just kidding. That isn’t the news. Around 12:30, I received a call from my lovely wife, and she was distraught. She was bawling, and said, “Eric, I did something stupid.” My first thought was that she got in a car accident; luckily, that wasn’t it. You see, she takes a class from WSU Vancouver on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so she has to drive down there. She does really well in college and is really smart (more on that later), but today she had a slip of the mind. On her way home, while driving on I-5, something happened. Her laptop—which she left on the roof of the car accidentally—slid off and fell into the highway. Just about everyone has accidentally left something on the roof of their car and drove off: a gas cap, a drink, child, etc. If you haven’t, you will. When she called to tell me, I didn’t even get mad at her. I was pretty impressed with how I handled it, actually. Not to toot my own horn or anything, but I probably deserve the “Husband of the Day Award.” It's very prestigious.

Luckily, Amber was in the left lane when the Mac jumped ship, so the computer fell into the grassy area between north and south bound; at least that is what Amber thought. All she knew is that it slipped off before exit 11. After driving back through that stretch of road, she couldn’t locate it and didn’t want to stop on the side of the freeway. She had to get to work, so I, husband of the day, drove down to the area where she thought it might be and I went hunting. After a few passes, I couldn’t see it either. I decided I would stop and walk around to locate it. At this point, I didn’t care if it was broken; I just wanted to make sure no one else got it in case it did still work. There is some sensitive information in that thing.

Then, a miracle happened. I found the laptop. We always carry our laptops in little sleeve cases, and I believe it saved this particular Mac because… IT STILL WORKS! (At this point, I would like to take the opportunity to praise Apple computers and rag on PCs, but I can’t. When I used to be in a certain band, we flipped our van and trailer at about 55 mph and my Dell flew out into the middle of the highway and was fine. So I guess in the “falling at highway speeds” category, Macs and PCs tie.) Without the case, I believe the laptop would have come open and been smashed to pieces. Keep in mind; this is the older Macbook that has the white plastic casing. As you can see below, the case has some holes in it now, and the computer is a bit scuffed up. Not bad though, considering...

I have to say, the whole situation reminded me of when my brother Andy ran over my Fender Jazzmaster guitar. I watched it happen. I still get sick to my stomach when I think about it, and I think Andy does too. That was a miracle too, because it was also in a case, and he ran over it in such a way that I only had to replace the bridge. After fixing it, I sold it to some sucker in Texas. In my ebay description, I said, “The case is pretty beat up, but the guitar is in great condition. Isn’t that what cases are for?” I had to do my best to get the tire mark off of the case.

So here is what I learned from the events of today:

1. God can use a laptop, a highway, and little old Eric Lemiere to perform a small miracle.

2. Always transport a laptop in a case of some sort.

3. I can drive pretty well using only my peripheral vision. (I had to because I was looking at the side of the road while driving)

4. I love my wife… a lot. I didn’t really learn this today, but I was reminded. At a time where I could have gotten really mad at the possibility of losing a thousand bucks and a lot of info, I found myself feeling really caring for her and nothing else. Sounds like a “duh” moment, but I really like the fact that I love my wife this much even when she makes a potentially costly mistake. (This does not mean, however, that you can continue to leave used q-tips on the bathroom counter, Amber. Throw them away!)

I think I will take this opportunity to refer back to my comment about Amber being a smarty pants in school. She recently wrote a paper about literature, and her instructor was very impressed. So impressed, in fact, that she wrote things in the margins like “Yes! Great Point!” and “Beautiful” and “Wow” and “Excellent analysis.” The paper apparently even gave the instructor chills when she read it. Here is what was written at the end of the paper:

“You absolutely have to pursue a graduate degree – I think I’ve said that maybe twice in my teaching career before now. The ideas you discuss in this paper could easily be ground-breaking work.”

Amber is really proud of the compliment, but felt like she couldn’t tell anyone without sounding conceited. So, unbeknownst to her, I am telling you all. I’m proud of her too.

Blog Summary:

Matt Milligan wants an update. Amber throws computer at I-5. Husband of the Day finds said computer dirty, but in working order. Use a case. I love my wife, who breaks literary ground. The long awaited end.

(I hope this holds you over for a while, Mr. Milligan’s Island)

Critically Claimed

2010-01-12T19:15:00.000-08:00

On Sunday before church, some friends and I were talking at Starbucks. Kelly McCown told me that him and his wife, Shawnee, were walking around Portland the day before and she said, “I’d like to hang out with Eric and have him tell me everything he notices, just because it would be very interesting.” I took this as a compliment. You see, one night when I was at the McCown residence, I noticed there was a small dent in the wall behind the front door where the doorknob was hitting it. I also noticed the same thing at Rob and Angela Green’s house. So when Christmas rolled around, I got them both the little doorstoppers that screw into the baseboard; naturally, I got them the proper finish that matched their doorknobs.

So apparently I notice things. I think it comes from my mom. One time she told us that when she goes to people’s houses, she looks around and thinks, “How would I clean that if this were my house?”

Anyway, the conversation shifted to the way I can find something wrong with just about everything. I know; I’m a critic. We talked about how Chris Greely—with his incredible ear for audio—can probably find a flaw with any song. I asked him if he had ever heard a song that has nothing wrong with it, and he actually said yes. Here are the songs:

Lost- Coldplay

Somewhere Only We Know- Keane

Blackbird- Paul McCartney

Yesterday- The Beatles

Where the Streets Have No Name- U2

Comfortably Numb- Pink Floyd

Good songs. He said he thinks just about every song could use improvement though. So we are critics. I think very logically, and I’m a perfectionist. So let’s recap: I’m a logical critic that wants everything perfect? Oh man… pray that Amber keeps her sanity.

As I was driving home from church, I was thinking about the earlier conversation. I began to realize that I am very blessed. I have two cars that currently work, a house, an amazing wife, amazing families, amazing friends, great music gear, a brain that works, other major organs that work (to my knowledge), talent, enough money to pay bills and eat, a bright orange Nessie light (google it), 5 heightened senses since the spider bite, new floors in part of the house, etc… Sure, I can be critical and find flaws in each thing I listed—except Amber, of course—but what good would it do me? The bottom line is that I am blessed, and I’m thankful for it.

Christmas Coincidences

2010-01-05T23:58:00.000-08:00

Christmas was really good this year. We did a day with the Lemiere family (including some Nordstroms too), and a day with the Evald family. When it comes to Christmas lists, I give my parents one list, and Amber’s parents a different list, only duplicating things that I could use more than one of. This is apparently not a common practice. There were more duplicate gifts than normal this year, and some of them were just plain odd coincidences.

-My dad apparently gave everyone the same list, and it only had a couple things on it. He got three pairs of work gloves; one from us, one from Grandma Gloria and Grandpa Duane, and one from Nick and Tiff. He will use them all eventually I suppose.

-Amber got a curling iron from Tiff and her mom… both the same size and with all the same features.

-My mom got Tiff a book, and Tiff’s Grandma got her the same book on CD.

-Amber got The Proposal on DVD from Tiff and her mom.

-Andy and my Grandma got me the same book.

-My mom and Amber’s mom both got her a collection of make-up brushes, which Amber says she will use all of them because they are all different.

-Santa put little notepads with the letter A on them in Amber’s stocking at both houses as well… they even had the same exact design.

-I got Nick a little tiny flat iron, and so did Tiff… it wasn’t even on his list.

-And the final, and most bizarre gift coincidence: Dash got two Airzookas (google it)... one from Nick and Tiff, and one from Amber and I. These are not in your everyday stores, and we did not communicate what we were getting him. Nick kept saying all morning, “I’m so excited about Dash’s gift! I think I’m going to play with it more than he is!” When Dash opened it, Amber and I looked at each other with shock. But hey… having two Airzookas is always better than one. Andy and I took them next door to Don and Andrea’s later and air blasted the cousins.

Ok, here is a funny youtube video I found of an Airzooka blast: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p8Gx9BAwuzU&feature=related

Now imagine that is my Grandma Gloria, and you have a pretty good idea of what our Christmas was like at the Lemiere house.

For New Years, I ran the light show for a Phil Wickham concert…

TIME OUT!

Amber is sitting next to me in bed with her computer as I type this, and she is looking on the American Apparel website. We were both quietly computing, when she breaks the silence by saying, “Stretch velvet tank thong?” Naturally, I had to see what this disturbance was about, and I couldn’t stop laughing… mainly because of the name. You can imagine what the article of clothing looks like. Back to the blog…

TIME IN.

Whoa. Did I just successfully do a Saved by the Bell time out, the way that Zack Morris used to do?

New years. Phil Wickham. Lights. It was really fun. Amber and I went down to Beaverton a day early to set up the lights, and program scenes. The church, Solid Rock, put us up in a hotel for two nights, which was great. So I spent a good 12 hours listening to Phil Wickham songs and making a light show for the concert. The church rented the intelligent lights that move and change colors and patterns and all that jazz, which is why the programming took so long. It turned out pretty cool though. Amber and I did manage to steal a kiss as the new year was rung in too. (This picture is from soundcheck)

We didn’t make any New Years resolutions, in case you were wondering. We are both attempting to read through the whole Bible this year though. After 5 days, we are on track. We shall see how well we can keep up with the plan…

We hope you all had a good holiday season. If you didn’t, go get yourself an Airzooka or a velvet stretch tank thong, and I’m sure your days will be brighter. Enjoy 2010.

Solid Goaled

2009-12-13T23:02:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, my brother Nick scolded Andy and me about not updating our blogs enough. Andy doesn’t have internet… my excuse is… I have no excuse. I’m sorry to all of you that have been on the edge of your seat waiting for an update from the eric/amber front.

As I was thinking of a topic to blog about, I was reminded of an old blog I posted on myspace four point five years ago entitled “Answers.” In this blog, I shared some of my life goals. So in this blog, I will re-visit those in greater detail, maybe add some new ones, and even enlighten you on Amber’s. Here we go…

-Own apartments- This is quite feasible, considering that my parents currently own the apartments that my grandpa Duane built, but it is no longer a life goal. I’m not opposed to the idea, but we can probably take it off the “goals” list and add it to the “take it or leave it” list.

-Own storage units- Just seemed like an easy way to make some money, so it made my list. We can add it to the previously mentioned list though.

-Drive a go-cart on the Great Wall of China- This is definitely still a goal, but I fear that it may never come true. If any of you have any connections, let me know.

-Have a pet duck-billed platypus- “take it or leave it” list. I still think they are cool, but I would rather have a dog.

-Sky dive- I don’t remember this ever being a goal of mine, so we’ll just take it off the list all together.

-Drive one of those giant dump trucks used in large mines in Wyoming that have tires that are twice as long as a man (name that movie)- I hate Wyoming… goal removed.

-Play a show in the orient- It’s off the list. But I was in a band called Climber that had our CD distributed over in Japan. Here is proof. Good company too.

-Invent something- Still would love to do this… although I did invent my travel pillow case that zips up and is equipped with a handle for easy transport through airports.

-Have enough money to not have to worry about money- self explanatory… not there yet.

-Have breakfast at a Starbucks in Seattle, lunch in Nashville at Miyako, and dinner in OK City at Tedd’s Café Escondido all in the same day- This goal will probably have to wait until the previous goal is met.

-Get hitched- GOAL ACHIEVED!

-Own a 62 ragtop VW bug- It will be mine… oh yes… it will be mine… (name that movie) At this point, the year doesn’t matter though. Just a ragtop bug please. I could also add a Vespa scooter and another late 70’s Honda Civic 1200 like this one I used to own… preferably not exactly like this one.

*I did not wreck this car... fire wrecked this car.

-Build a house- Maybe someday, but Amber and I just bought our first house in May!

-Take a photo that makes it into a book of cool photos- Need new camera.

-Record my own record- This will happen. Amber will be on it.

-Be in a cartoon as a voice or character- Who doesn’t want this?

-Have a song on a movie or video game soundtrack- Technically, this goal was achieved, since the old band I was in did the soundtrack for the critically unclaimed Bibleman game for PC… it was a lame game… I also played guitar on a make-up commercial.

Now on to Amber’s goals:

-Finish school- She will be done with her bachelor’s this summer. Very proud of her I am.

-Visit Rome, and oriental country, and Denmark- Denmark is the main one here, because her grandparents on her dad’s side are first generation Americans and she really wants to see the mermaid.

-(Kids>=2)- She wants to make at least two children. (insert grandma Doris quote here)

-Ride on a train- This seems within reach.

-Swim with dolphins- We could have done this on our Disney cruise, but we haven’t achieved the money goal on my list yet.

-Have a kitty- We mourned the loss of Amber’s 16 year old cat a couple months ago. She would like another at some point.

-Write a book- I think she probably could put one out right now called “Papers I wrote in college: A collection of papers I wrote in college.” So this one is virtually crossed off.

-Read the entire Bible- Lets see how she does with the genealogies.

-See Madonna in concert- I’m speechless.

-Own a Mini Cooper- It will be hers… oh yes… it will be hers…

So those are our goals at this point in our lives. I hope you enjoyed them, and I hope we inspired you to make your own. And that’s the way the cookie crumbles. (name that movie)

Maiden Voyage

2009-11-24T23:12:00.000-08:00

After enjoying a movie with the wife tonight, I decided to start our own blog. Sort of a way to keep up with what is going on in the lives of Eric and Amber. The first one is the hardest, because how can I get you all up to speed on the last 877 days of our marriage? I suppose I’ll just start from the latest, and you can pick things up along the way. So here goes the maiden voyage…

Speaking of maiden voyages, we just got back from our first cruise. It was a Disney cruise that made berth in Cape Canaveral, FL. If you know anything about Amber’s mother, you will understand why it was a Disney cruise. Her dream is to be Mickey’s bodyguard… Whitney Houston’s Kevin Costner, if you will… and yes, I believe she will always love him.

The entire Evald family was present on this cruise, as it was a family vacation. Good times. Lots of food, lots of snorkeling, lots of water. We did a snorkeling excursion at a natural Stingray City, snorkeled on Castaway Cay (Disney’s own private island, formerly a pit-stop for drug runners), and saw plenty of ocean dwellers: rays, a turtle, Dory, starfish, lobster, and barracuda, to name a few. Please feel free to break into the first song that is already in your head at this time. Amber and I also went parasailing, which was great.

Funny story: Amber collected some shells from the beach and brought them home for her scrapbook or something. When she took them out of her suitcase, she laid them on our table and one started crawling. Turns out she brought home a tiny crab, which died shortly thereafter.

After 7 days of cruising, we set our feet back on American soil. That night, we hung out with some Floridian friends of ours, and their famous Chihuahuas (they were in Beverly Hills Chihuahua, and one of them licked my mouth). It was great seeing them again, since the last time we got to hang out was on our honeymoon, which was at Disney World (told you Amber’s mom was a fan). As we were all swapping stories, we came upon something that may or may not be an urban legend. It’s the story of a girl who has a pet snake that she lets roam free in her apartment and even sleep on her bed. As the story goes, the snake starts acting strange, not eating and stretching out next to her on the bed and the like. She calls the vet and the vet says she needs to have it put down immediately because the snake is fasting and sizing her up because it is planning to eat her. Ever heard this story? True story? Myth? Does anyone have the facts? Please let me know.

So there were a few moments I feel should get some face time in this maiden voyage of a blog. The first is an awkward encounter I had in the men’s room on the ship. I must preface this with the fact that there were only 4-5 US citizens on board as staff out of 1005. I walked into the bathroom to use the urinal, and a worker was standing by the sink. As a courteous Disney crew member would, he said hello and how are you as I stepped up to the plate. He then proceeded to ask me questions in the best English he could, which was at times difficult for me to decipher. I quickly realized he was asking me something about the teen club, to which I responded, “I’m 27.” He apologized, and told me I looked younger. Amber and I get that a lot… a girl asked her if she was 14 while we were on the boat. Anyway, the man began asking me where I was from, where I worked, what instruments I played, if I was any good at them, and so on. You may be thinking that he sounds like a kind gentleman, but need I remind you that this WHOLE TIME I am standing in front of the urinal trying to wiz? It gets a little uncomfortable when a few minutes pass and nary a drop has made it’s maiden voyage. This guy obviously doesn’t know American man law.

The second moment I want to share is something that you all have probably experienced at one point, and if not, you will. On both our flights to and from Orlando, there were screaming children in close proximity to our seats. The flight home was especially bad. The two young, out-of-control girls behind Amber and I must have thought the tray tables on the backs of our seats were complimentary drum sets, and the mother of the year next to them was equally loud and frustrating. Luckily, with about an hour left of flight, I finally heard the mother trying to explain that there were people in front of them and that they shouldn’t pound on the seats. It only took her two hours and forty minutes to realize it. The smell of cig smoke coming from her clothes was equally as frustrating. Someday, somebody will do a study and find out that cigarettes are actually bad for your health.

So that pretty much brings us to now. Our equilibriums are pretty much back to normal now, but the ship and the flights definitely threw them off. Glad to be back in the northwest, and glad to have thanksgiving in two days. I’m thankful for lots… especially for the person whose name gets mentioned most in this blog. Pictures will be coming soon from the cruise. Be patient, and keep your stick on the ice…