Don't Call Me Ty

I rarely take shortcuts with words. I don't like shortening them and I'm(contractions don't count) really not sure why. I think I can blame(or thank) my parents, childhood friends and my engineering mind. Case in point, it took me years to get myself comfortable calling it "the fridge". When I hear "The Fridge" I think of the 1985 Chicago Bears and "The Super Bowl Shuffle."

I also rarely shorten names, use nicknames or call people by their last name. I feel like a highschool gym coach when I do. It doesn't bother me so much when I hear others do it, except when it is my name being shortened, then I hate it.

What does this mean? Am I stuffy and uptight? Or does it just means that I didn't grow up around people who had a habit of taking shortcuts on words? Not sure.

Luckily I think I've softened just slightly in the past 3 1/2 years. I am almost positive that recently I called my wife Ash instead of Ashley. Doesn't sound like much, but its a major milestone for me. Ashley is much more of a casual conversationalist than I am and I hope that, with time, it will rub off on me. I also think it might be good for our marriage if I could come to terms with the fact that she calls one of her college roommates "Seabass" and her brother "The Wart".

Me and Christmas

This is one of those “answer the questions and pass it on” type things. I don't forward, but Ashley said my blog needed something new and that I should put it here. Okay.

1. Wrapping paper or gift bags? Whatever Ashley wants to put it in.
2. Real tree or artificial? Who does artificial?
3. When do you put up the tree? Whenever Ashley thinks its time.
4. When do you take the tree down? See #3.
5. Do you like eggnog? Who doesn’t? Although I usually thin it down with a little whole milk.
6. Favorite gift received as a child? I can't narrow it to one. Superman Underoos, The Incredible Hulk inflatable punching bag (with inflatable boxing gloves), a styrofoam airplane that could be launched with a big rubber band, a race car track with two electric cars (a Porsche & Corvette), a Specialized mountain bike, and a new Ping driver (last year).
7. Do you have a nativity scene? Ashley does. Her dowry was a collection of Christmas decor. Of course I was stoked.
8. Hardest person to buy for? I don't find Christmas shopping all that hard. Thanks Walmart.
9. Easiest person to buy for? Me.
10. Worst Christmas gift you ever received? My grandma once gave all the boys in the family baseball caps for Christmas. Not bad you think. Each hat had our full name and home town printed across the front of it! Runner up to that gift was the tube socks she got us the year before.
11. Mail or email Christmas cards? Mail. Although, I'm thinking about crafting an email next year for my 2nd tier friends & family.
12. Favorite Christmas Movie? It's a Wonderful Life. Anyone that dismisses this movie as boring or sappy doesn't have a soul.
13. When do you start shopping for Christmas? This past Thursday. Took me two hours. Would have been shorter if the first Walmart I went to had everything in stock.
14. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present? No. Ashley is too good at returns to hold onto some unwanted gift that long.
15. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas? Eggnog. If it’s thick enough you can actually eat it.
16. Clear lights or colored on the tree? That totally depends on the ornaments. Duh!
17. Favorite Christmas song? Oh, Holy Night. By Johhny Mathis. I believe all Christmas music should be old school. Anything newer than (and including) Jingle Bell Rock gives me a headache.
18. Travel for Christmas or stay at home? Go to Hollister.
19. Can you name all of Santa's reindeers? I refuse to answer a question about reindeers or gooses.
20. Angel on the tree top or a star? Whatever Ashley wants.
21. Open the presents Christmas Eve or morning? Christmas morning.
22. Most annoying thing about this time of year? Putting aside my cynicism for a moment, I love the Christmas season and really can't think of anything I find particularly annoying. Maybe that's because I don't have to shop, wait in long lines and fight for parking spots. Thanks Ashley.

Merry Christmas!

Pimp My Ride

Have you ever thought of sticking fake bullet hole stickers to your car? If you're considering it, why not go all the way? Wouldn't it be much cooler to have real bullet holes in your door?



Fake baseball through the windshield? Classic. Nothing says I'm a hard core baseball fan better than a plastic gag glued to your $40,000 SUV. Do chicks dig these?

Picking on the Little Guy

The other night I overheard a very sad conversation. A twelve year old boy told his brother that every time he is around a certain group of older boys they make fun of him. Then he said, "so I don't talk any more when I'm around them, because if I don't say anything, they won't make fun of me." He's a super shy kid to begin with and doesn't stand a chance when he's around rowdy older kids. It's sad.

The thing is, I know the older boys he was talking about and they are generally decent kids. But even the nice teenagers can be ruthless. I shudder when I think of the completely insensitive things I remember hearing (and unfortunately saying) when I was in high school. Usually it was just to get a laugh. I still think my sister Amy harbors a grudge against me for a comment I once made about Oreos getting stuck in her teeth.

In the end I think most of us grow out of that mean phase. And luckily, most kids weather the cruel storm of adolescence. But sometimes I wonder how many kids grow up permanently scarred by the things they experience in their youth. And how much can you really do to change it? Is it just natural selection at work?

Automatic Music

You know how certain websites or blogs have music that automatically plays when you open the web page. That bugs.

Laugh Till I Cry

I'm not amused by much. Don't know when I became so serious, but I almost never gut laugh. However, about once a year something happens that makes me laugh so hard I cry. That just happened 5 minutes ago.

Charlie was in the kitchen, Ashley was on the phone and I was here on the couch. Suddenly Ashley jumped out of her seat and yelled "Oh shoot!" I turned around to see that Charlie had reached up and grabbed a Diet Coke that I had set near the edge of our kitchen table. Unfortunately (for Charlie) the Coke was just out of his reach. With his limited reach he managed to tilt the can just enough to pour its contents straight into the middle of his face. His eyes, nose and mouth were drowned in a frothy fountain of cold Diet Coke, and he couldn't let go of the can. By the time Ashley reached him the entire can had emptied onto his face.

Of course he was devasted for a couple of minutes. I don't blame him. He thought he was going to die by way of foamy Diet Coke. But I couldn't help but laughing at the image of him pouring a stream of soda into his own face, and just stading there taking it.

Sounds sad, but I may go another year or so before I see something that funny again. Thanks Charlie.

That's what I call a Mini...

This is a mini...(weight 1360 lbs)

Or this...(weight: 2524 lbs)

Not this...(weight 4288 lbs)

11,690 Days Ago

My mom sent me this story yesterday (in one big paragraph). Since I know I will lose it if I don't do something with it, thought I would post it here on my blog which, if you haven't figured out yet, doubles as my personal journal.

"Speaking of birthdays, I was just remembering yours from 32 years ago. I'm sure you've heard the story many times (now I'm reminding myself of mom and grandma Adrian), but maybe having it written down you can save it . Your due date was Jan. 9 and I was busy making gifts for all the nieces and nephews that December. I was a little leary of an early delivery because of our previous experience. At my scheduled Dr. appointment I mentioned to the Dr. at Kaiser that we were considering an outing with our 3 1/2 year old son to cut down a Christmas tree, and might that be too strenuous? He said it sounded fine, and that I'd probably even end up delivering late this time. So we brought Ian's friend, our neighbor, Aaron Frasier with us and first went to Santa's villiage before hiking a hillside in the Santa Cruz mountains to find that perfect tree. A few days later, dad and I and Ian were all seated in the chapel for afternoon Primary opening exercises. I was a teacher, Ian, a Sunbeam, and dad (who did not have a Primary calling) had been envited by Pat Darby to talk about Christmas in Mexico to her class. When we were dismissed to head to our classrooms, I leaned on the back of the pew in the row ahead of where I was sitting to heave myself up, when unmistakably my water broke. So, I sat back down. The news traveled quickly, and it was shortly decided that we'd take the Camerons up on their offer to borrow their car (after much declining) because our 240Z was pretty tiny. Pat Darby volunteered to take Ian home with her after Primary (so what did she do for a lesson??). I had had 2 long labors previously and wasn't in the least concerned about the hours drive to San Jose (the Kielly Blvd. hosp.). But I was soon very glad for the Camerons roomy reclining seat, as I shortly began experiencing majoy labor. It was one of those "glad we make it to the hospital in time" experiences. We arrived, Mike checked me in, and I was wisked away in a wheel chair. I had already decided that this delivery would be the druged /pain-free type, as I'd already experienced the stylish many-hours-natural-type with Ian. But a nurse shortly informed my that there wouldn't be time for medication to work as I was having this baby very soon. There was definitely a little anxiety for us, as you were 4 weeks early. When you arrived we were very happy and thankful that you were declared perfectly healthy and 6 lb. 5 oz. Not bad for that early. I don't remember much about the hospital stay, other than that dad declared that you were definitely an Edwards when he first held you (actually, a MacTavish to be very specific). I don't think we had much at home ready for you (given my long hours at the sewing machine). Did we use the Crump's cute white wicker cradle with you? or just the girls?? You looked very tiny, and Aunt Julie bought you a tiny red, trimmed in green, doll pajama to wear. Anyway, you must have been a pretty good baby those first few weeks at home, because I somehow managed to complete the majority of the gifts. (Ian liked helping with the sewing.). The only real screaming I remember you doing, was when your clothes were taken off to diaper you. And that was easy to remember because you would turn quite red and hold your breath. The next 32 years were real easy because you were the mellow, easy going, cheerful (is obedient a bit much to say?) kid. Happy Birthday Tyler. love, mom"

She Loves Me...

I know Ashley loves me because she is in the kitchen right at this very moment making me an extra rich chocolate cake with so much frosting the cake itself may buckle under the pressure.

And because she loves me like that, I love her.

Assuming the Best

No doubt, my post yesterday made Amy feel a bit uncomfortable. At a minimum it must have taken her off guard. However, she responded with class and was a great sport about it. Which brings me to today's topic: Assuming the Best.

With any text based communication like email and blogs, tone and intonation are implied with punctuation and grammar and, unless you're a really good writer, there is almost always room for misinterpretation.

For example: back when I was single and dating, I broke off a budding relationship only to change my mind a couple days later. So I sent the girl an email to test the waters to see if too much damage had already been done to get back together. Her response was cordial, even nice, but at that end of her note she wrote: "Goodbye." Then she signed her name. The period threw me off. Surely she was telling me something. Being a pesimist I assumed that she was trying to imply that she wasn't interested in seeing me any more (hence the period). Respecting her wish I abruptly stopped calling her and emailing her.

Two months later (that's like a two years in BYU time) I got an email from her saying, "I haven't heard from you in a while. Are you ok?" Turns out "Goodbye." was just a friendly goodbye, nothing more. I assumed the worst and was totally wrong.

Lessons like that have taught me that, in any form of communication, it is best to assume the best case scenario. And most of the time you'll be right. Back to Amy's comment. I assume that her comment was just a playful jab and a sincere question about the nature of my blog post. Nothing more. She's a very nice person and why would I have assumed anything else? I didn't. My post yesterday was simply a playful entry, an unsolicited "roast" of sorts. Hope that's how it came across.

There are no bum topics

Ashley just leaned over and said there are no bum blog topics, just bum writers. And how! I'd post a pic of my bum just to show you how much of a bum writer I am, but I think that might be in violation of blogging policies. Besides the picture probably wouldn't fit in the small space alotted for pictures in the blog.

Why do you comment?

This is a bum topic. Like so many others, I am not so good at coming up with widely applicable blog topics. So I have decided not to fully develop this one. Just thought you should see why I don't post very often.

Why do you blog?

Why do you blog? If you're reading this you probably have a blog of your own. I know this because I know all three people that check this blog. At least I hope its still three. So why do you blog?

Me? First of all, let's get the facts straight. I don't blog. I believe that to have a blog and to be a blogger are two separate things. If I were to blog, why would I do it? Probably for the attention. How would I get that attention?

First I'd try to be funny. I like to think I'm very witty. After a while of sitting in front of a blank screen I might realize that my type of humor doesn't translate well to blogspeak. Then I would wonder where my humor translates well.

Next I'd probably come up with a slightly exagerated opinion that many people can relate to, hoping that I'd get a lot of comments from people that feel just the same way. Unfortunately I would realize a few moments later that I don't have the same opinions as other people, and that I would have to make up opinions I thought would be popular to others in order to make my readers feel like they totally understood me.

Last I would realize that it takes too much effort to be popular in the blogging world and give up. It takes some talent to be funny, engaging and opinionated, all without offending those very people you write to and about each day.

All I Want for Christmas...

Flatter, sleeker black dress shoes
Golf stand bag
Brown v-neck sweater (just like my other wool sweaters)
A work shop
Acoustic-electric guitar
Wrinkle free, non-shrinking khakis or slacks

World peace

Who's Crafty?

Recently Ashley blogged about how crafty I am (I prefer the term handy). That reminded me that I've never bragged, I mean blogged, about my projects.

This past spring, three nights before the annual Boy Scout Pinewood Derby competition, I decided to craft a scale model 1973 BMW from an official Pinewood Derby kit (actually it took 3 kits). Here's how I built my official rules-conforming car:

1. Drive to Hollister to take measurements on the real car that will serve as my model.


2. Create scale model drawing of car (top / side) to be used as template for wood cut-outs.


3. Drive to local hobby store and purchase: 3 pinewood derby kits; 1 spray can of white primer; 1 spray can of red acrylic paint; 1 bottle of silver acrylic detail paint, 1 bottle of flat black acrylic paint, 1 bottle of paint thinner, 3 paint brushes


4. Drive to local paper supply store and purchase 5 sheets of full page label paper (peal-off sticky paper).


5. Cut out copies the scale pattern and glue them to blocks of wood.


6. Cut out basic car pieces: fenders, passenger cabin, roof.


7. Glue fenders to body.


8. Shape body with belt sander and wood file. Sand.


9. Shape passenger cabin with belt sander. Sand.


10. Shape roof with belt sander. Sand.


11. Prime components with white spray can. Let dry until next morning.


12. Apply first coat of red paint with spray can. Let dry until evening.


13. Apply second coat of red paint with spray can. Let dry until next morning.


14. Create decals with Microsoft PowerPoint.


15. Print decals onto white label paper using color printer.


16. Paint wheels with silver paint.


17. After car paint is dry, glue roof, passenger cabin and body together.


18. Paint bottom of car black. (In retrospect this should have been done after priming and before painting the car)


19. Apply decals.

Race day. My car wasn't fastest.
But I could tell the Boy Scouts were totally jealous.

Nit Picker

Ashley is on the couch sleeping with Charlie right now, helping him take the much needed afternoon nap that he refused to take alone. It's an uncommon moment of silence, but a very typical act of selflessness by Ashley.

She is the ultimate unsung hero and the reason our home is such a happy one. When she cares for Charlie, buys emergency supplies, pays the bills or cleans the house she doesn't toot her own horn. She helps out because help is needed. She says kind things because it makes people feel good. It's just what she does.

I'm not as good at being nice and helpful as she is. I'm not a cold-hearted meanie, but I am a great nit-picker. Ashley doesn't give me much material to work with, but I am guilty of fault finding way too often. For example, just a couple hours ago I gave her chided her for not charging her laptop. I said something like, "You know, if you don't want your laptop to die so often you might want to plug in the power cord." It's a pretty tame remark as most of my criticisms are, but I don't think hundreds or thousands of these over time is going to get me or her anywhere.

It wouldn't be so bad if I also doled out compliments as frequently as I do snide remarks, but I don't. Compliments aren't second nature for me, rather they are usually conscious attempts at doing the right thing. And I don't think I'm alone in this. I think most people find criticism easier than praise. I also think that criticism is the easy way out.

Fortunately I live with someone who does things the hard way and I'm hoping it rubs off on me. I think she hopes it will too.

I'm Back

Italy was great. Our Chevy was so choice. If you have the means, I highly recommend picking one up.

Out of the office until Oct. 22

How will my readers ever survive?

I'm Rich!

First of all, I'd like to say thank you to all my supporters, especially my wife Ashley who never stopped believing in me. I couldn't have done this without you.

36 holes of miniature golf this past Saturday and I'm $700 richer. That's my kind of weekend. It would have been even better if I had won the playoff for third place ($1300). And even better yet if I had shaved three strokes off my score of 76 for a 73 (the winning score). There's always next year.

Fourth place means two things. First, it means I've got to practice a bit more when next year's GOLFLAND Tournament of Champions rolls around again. Second, it means I don't lose my amateur status with the United States Golf Association. Seriously, I looked it up. If I had won just $50 more in this putting exhibition it might have qualified me as a professional golfer. Funny isn't it.

"An amateur golfer must not play golf for prize money or its equivalent in a match, competition or exhibition.

An amateur golfer must not accept a prize (other than a symbolic prize) or prize voucher of retail value in excess of $750 or the equivalent, or such a lesser figure as may be decided by the USGA. This limit applies to the total prizes or prize vouchers received by an amateur golfer in any one competition or series of competitions. "

Am I kidding? I'm not sure. But I do plan to be eligible for the U.S. Amateur Championship next year. It is a real golf tournament that requires you to 1) to be an amateur and 2) have a handicap index of 2.4 or less. With my fourth place finish this past weekend I've got number one in the bag. Now I just need to work out the details on number two. I've got a handicap index of 5.6 right now and I think I can do better. Wish me luck.

Time is On My Side

Recently I saw a commercial that said laughter can add 8 years to your life. If that's the case I'm gonna live to be 150 yrs old.

This kid makes me laugh every day. I was in tears tonight watching him play with his good friend Derek who just turned 1. Happy Birthday Derek!

And Ashley is one of the funniest people I know. I pretend I'm too good for her jokes, but I love her witt. She makes me laugh. And she's hot!

If I end up living a long time, it will be because of these two.

How Stuff Works

Every once in a while a website proves it is worth its mustard. How Stuff Works is one of them.

Where else can you go to read interesting articles about how Muppets work and how microwave popcorn can kill you? I've also used How Stuff Works to learn more about mortgages, digital cameras and how golf course greens are kept so perfect. I love the interactive learning features on How Stuff Works and quick links that can take you on tangent after tangent.

It's the perfect site for the curious mind. The only thing that it doesn't explain is women. Forever a mystery I guess.

Editorial Note: How Stuff Works does explain how women work. Funny.

On to the Finals

This past Saturday my dad and I played our semi-final rounds at Golfland to stay in the running for the miniature golf Tournament of Champions. 146 putts later we were both on our way to the finals. While a pair of 83's was good enough to get us into the finals, we are going to have to step it up a notch to have any hope of winning the championship on September 29th.

8 finalists from each of the 9 different Golfland courses in the Bay Area will compete in the championship. Luckily, the championship will take place in Sunnyvale, my home course.

The payout:

$5000 First Place
$2500 Second Place
$1300 Third Place
$700 Fourth Place
$300 Fifth Place
$200 Sixth Place

Hot Diggitty!

Customer Service is King, But Not at Golfsmith

I'm in a bind. I visited Golfsmith today and was once again disappointed. Golfsmith is perhaps my favorite store to visit despite its generally under trained and unresponsive staff. It's got a huge selection of golf and tennis equipment and decent prices to boot. Apparently they don't spend much on training and personnel though. I believe in good customer service and feel a certain allegiance to purchasing my equipment from the store that helps me make my decision. However, I'm just finding it harder and harder to shop there since the experience has done little to give me better information for my purchase.

Every time I go to Golfsmith I find that it takes forever to get someone to help you and when that finally happens it is unlikely that the person will know how to answer your question.

Today was a different problem though. I was interested in demoing a few iron sets and utility/hybrid clubs (a cross between fairway woods and irons). I'm looking to find the perfect 14th club for my golf bag. Right now I have a need to fill the gap between my 3-wood and my 3-iron. Since utility clubs are all the rage I figured I'd try a few out.

Full list of things I'd like to get (wish list, not need list):

• Minzuno MP32 Irons
• 19-21 Degree Utility Club (Hybrid)
• 56 Degree Sand Wedge
• 60 Degree Lob Wedge
• Stand Bag

Golfsmith has a club fitting / practice area that includes a launch monitor to help you figure out which clubs you hit best. Sounds great, right? Today those machines weren't working. In fact, they rarely work. Not sure why they don't repair them or replace them. When they finally did get one machine working, it didn't seem to have very reliable feedback so I decided it would be best to visit an outdoor driving range with a demo area. That way I can be sure of what I'm testing.

Should I stay or should I go? Not sure, but my crush on Golfsmith is fading quickly.

Rules of the Road

1. Always use your blinker when you are turning or switching lanes.
2. Never put anything on top of your car or in the back of your truck that even has a remote chance of falling out while driving. Things I've seen in the middle of the road: full size couch, matress, ladder, 5 gallon paint bucket, plywood, camper shell.
3. Merging - part one: Never, ever stop on an on ramp (freeway, highway, expressway or any other type of on ramp), even if the traffic is speedy and scary. Unless you see a yield sign or stop light keep on truckin pal cause we are right behind you and gaining quickly.
4. Merging - part two: It is your responsibility to fit in to the existing traffic structure. Don't get mad when people don't slow down to give you room. It's not their responsibility. Of course it is nice when people give you a little room to merge, but ultimately it is your responsibility to work yourself in. Take charge and get in there.
5. Merging - part three: Stomp on it. The on ramp is one of those few places where you are encouraged to gun it. The faster you match the speed of the cars around you the safer you are.
6. Please don't ever speed up just to box someone out of your lane. It's really not becoming.
7. If doing so doesn't slow down the flow of traffic, make room for people merging into your lane. It's just a nice thing to do. Not required, but nice.
8. When someone else "let's you in", give them a thank you nod or wave. It's the decent thing to do.
9. Keep up. Please don't go slower than the speed limit. I have long believed that you are more of a dangerous on the road when you are going 5 miles per hour slower than traffic than 5 miles per hour faster.
10. If you are the first person in the left hand turn lane, take that responsibility very seriously.

Sweet Muffins!

I came home tonight from a hard fought tennis match to the sweet smell of blueberry muffin batter. Then I waited curiously as Ashley baked them. Just as the aroma was filling the room she turned to me and said, "Sorry Toots. These aren't for you." I was crushed.

Turns out she was just pulling my leg. They were fabulous! It's little things like this that make Ashley the best wife and mom ever.

By the way, I lost my tennis match. That's ok, I'm playing again tomorrow morning with my boss and I plan to beat him.

Nobody Does It Better

I borrowed the title of my blog from a line in Carly Simon's "You're So Vain". So, I've added Carly and her nifty tune to my sidebar for some easy listening. Enjoy. Side note: Mick Jagger sings backup vocals in "You're So Vain".

Grumpy Old Man

It's official. I'm old and crotchety. Not only do I not relate to teenagers these days. They get on my nerves. At least 4 or 5 of them do. I'm in charge of the 14 & 15 year old boys at church on Sundays and I'm an assistant Boy Scout leader during the week.

I thought I just had to get to know the kids. Unfortunately, they're not really growing on me...yet (I hope they'll grow up a bit and I'll soften up a bit). The funny thing is that all the teens I work with are very bright, good natured kids. But they are absolutely the most inattentive and disrespectful bunch I've had the chance to work with.

Has discipline gone out of style? I sure haven't seen any in a while.

Editorial Update: Today in church I led a discussion in a class with these same 5 boys. I am happy to report, that all 5 boys behaved very well and I was quite impressed with their demeanor and participation. I guess I just have to learn to expect a little up and down from these boys. They've still got a little growing up to do, but so do I. I'm looking forward to spending more time with them.

Just Tap Tap Tap It In

This past weekend I played 4 rounds of miniature golf* at Golfland to qualify for an upcoming tournament. Miniature golf courses have tournaments? It appears they do.

Not only do they have tournaments, they've got some pretty serious prize money. $5000 for First Place, $2500 for Second Place and $1300 for Third Place. And the only entry fee required is that you pay for the rounds you play. How can it get any better than that?

I told Ashley that if this goes well I may consider quitting my job to become a professional mini golfer. The semi-finals take place September 13-16. Wish me luck.

* Note: I grew up calling this game miniature golf, but I've heard it called mini golf and putt putt golf as well.

Tragedy in the Home Land

Warning: This is a soapbox post.

As September 11 approaches most of us are reminded of the tragedy of those who lost their lives to senseless acts of hatred in 2001. As the date approaches, I am also reminded that among a population of reasonably sensible Americans exists a subculture of halfwits that think the U.S. government was behind the 9/11 attacks--that some of our leaders actually conspired with members of al-Queda to crash planes into buildings with lots of people in them, then blew them up.

My hope is that the number of people that subscribe to such a theory is minuscule, but my fear is that the percentage is not insignificant. If you happen to be such an individual please don't comment on this post. This is not a debate.

Now, I won't spend time citing reports or discussing structural models of the World Trade Center, but I will say this:

I am sad that some believe that there are those so evil in our government that they would deliberately plot to kill hundreds of their own. I am sad that their suspicion of ill will overcomes their hope for humanity. They soil the good name of the thousands of public servants striving to protect this country from the very acts they think these officials planned.

In a glass half full sort of way, I'm glad that the rest of you have enough sense and hope to believe that our collective government does have our best interests in mind when they make decisions. I know our leaders aren't perfect. Some of them can be incompetent, ineffective and even disgusting at times, but I believe they are generally a good bunch.

Terrorists, You Owe Me $30

Yesterday was the 3rd time I had to fork over items to airport security because they did not conform to FAA airport security policies. Policies put in place after the September 11th terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center. I hold terrorists responsible for the value of those items and I expect a reimbursement.


Terrorists, please contact me at tylerbcarter@hotmail.com and I will let you know where you can send the check. The following is a list of the items confiscated and their approximate value.

1 Swiss Army Pocket Knife (just the simple version, no extra gadgets please) - $9.99

2 Cans of Edge Shaving Cream Gel (with aloe) - $3.65 x 2

1 Tube of Crest Toothpaste (the teeth whitening kind) - $3.49

1 Pair of Barber Shears (any brand will do) - $8.95

Please send money order, no personal checks. Thank you.

I'm Going with Site Meter

Yesterday, I finally succumbed to the pressure to install a counter on my blog. However, I didn't know which one to use. Ashley uses Bravenet which has cool graphs that trend over time. It creates a better first impression. Site Meter's counter is a bit sleeker (which I like) and while it doesn't appear as sexy at first glance, it seems to have better info. I like knowing where people are visiting from, how long they stayed, etc.

The most interesting thing, however, is that in just two days both counters were different by 14 visitors. Bravenet reported that I had 40 visitors in two days and Site Meter reported that I had 26.

I trust Site Meter's numbers more since they are more conservative and they give me more information about each visitor. I have my suspicions about Bravenet's numbers. I think they double count visitors and their stats (First time visitors vs. Returning visitors) don't always seem to jive. I'm going to go with Site Meter for now.

The Clock is Ticking

More like the counter is ticking. I've finally bowed to the pressure to track the scores of visitors I get on my blog each day.

But I couldn't decide which counter to install, so I'm going to try two: Bravenet and Sitemeter. Sure they both count, but this is a very important decision since I will be checking my blog stats 20 times per day from now on. Right now I favor Bravenet just because it has cool graphs.

So here's a question to all my regular readers out there; Which do you prefer?

You Just Got Bit

According to wikipedia.org Viral Marketing "refers to marketing techniques that use pre-existing social networks to produce increases in brand awareness."


Today my wife Ashley used her blog to became a part of the Viral Marketing movement. I am a supporter of Viral Marketing, if it is done right. For Viral Marketing to be successful a few things have to happen:

1. The message bearer (Ashley in this example) has to be credible. Don't confuse the source of the message with the source of the product. The source of the product is always in it for the money. In this case I happen to know for a fact that the message bearer (Ashley) and the product itself (necklace) are both legitimate and credible. I've seen them both in action.


2. The message bearer must have a collective formidable social network. Some people I know (I.e. Ashley) have dozens, even hundreds of people that visit their blogs each day. Lots of readers means lots of marketing power. I on the other hand have 3 regular readers. I would not be an effective tool in a Viral Marketing campaign. However, if someone wants to highlight a set of golf clubs on my blog and host a free give-away I accept.


3. The messenger has to maintain integrity. Credible messengers can often "sell out" if they allow themselves to be lured by the perks of Viral Marketing. I was proud of Ashley when she decided to purchase the necklace (instead of receive it as a free gift), which means she received no compensation for participating in this particular Viral Marketing campaign. Very noble, but not very smart. You could have had a free necklace Ashley! I am not so principled. If someone wants to showcase their golf clubs on my blog, I will gladly accept a free set of clubs for the service.


4. The item or campaign should be interesting. Many of you are familiar with jokes that get forwarded from one person to the next. The better the jokes, the more people it will get forwarded to. Don't be fooled. Every forwarded story, joke or anecdote you receive is part of a Viral Marketing campaign. Next time scroll down to the bottom to see what you are sponsoring when you hit the forward button.

To sum it up, I am a fan of creative marketing and admire people that do so effectively. Who knows, maybe some day I'll have enough readers to participate in a lucrative Viral Marketing campaign myself.

Mama's Boy

Just moments ago Ashley reminded me that I'm a mama's boy. "Yes, yes I am." I proudly responded.

Then she proceded to add that I am also a Hollister boy. "Given the opportunity, who wouldn't be?"

However, she totally forgot to mention my dad. I could never leave my dad out when it comes to things I love.

Before we got married Ashley was very afraid that my love of my family and Hollister would come before her. It scared her. I think it still does. I can see why. I am very fond of my parents and my hometown and I visit them both very often. However, my home is, and always will be, with Ashley, Charlie and Junior, Junior (and whoever else decides to join our little family in the years to come).

Old School

Today I got a haircut. This is the first time in 3 years (3 years and 1 week to be exact) that someone other than myself has cut my hair. Who cuts their own hair? I do. Why?

1. I'm picky. I usually don't like the way other people cut my hair.
2. I hate taking the time to schedule an appointment, or wait in line at Supercuts for a mediocre haircut. I can give myself a mediocre haircut without having to wait.
3. I'm cheap. I can save $12 every 5 weeks if I cut my own hair. That means I've saved over $360 in three years. Not bad, eh?

Today was different. On my way home from work, I decided I was looking a bit shaggy and didn't want to face the mirror and clippers at home. So I drove down El Camino Real in Sunnyvale looking for hair salons or barber shops. After passing 4 nail salons in 3 blocks I stumbled on a place called "Hair Do". It was a real classy joint tucked away in a run down strip mall.

Side note: my favorite haircuts have come from little old men who have no doubt spent their life in the trade. They know what they're doing, they're extremely fast and if you're lucky they use a straight razor to shave your neck and side-burns. Have you ever been groomed by a straight razor? I'm not talking about the 50's style safety razors (the precursor to the disposable razor). I'm talking about the slit your throat straight razor who's only distinctions from a switchblade are that it lacks an automatic button and it is sharper. Don't ask me why, but there's something soothing about having a complete stranger put a knife to your neck and scrape away the hair.


So when I walked in the shop and a little old Vietnamese man named Ken jumped up to greet me, I thought "Eureka!"

The haircut ended up being better than I had hoped. When my head was all clean and tidy Ken went straight for the shaving cream brush and the straight razor and I just smiled. When that was done I got a neck massage with some electric gizmo that looked like a belt sander, something I hadn't counted on, but thoroughly enjoyed. I've finally found the man's equivalent of a pedicure. So I paid Ken my $12 bucks and kicked in an extra $5 for good measure and said I'd be back. If this keeps up I may be $520 poorer in 3 years...and it will be completely worth it.

Get off the phone!!!

Topic: Cell phone etiquette

Question: When is it rude to chat on your cell phone?


1) In the car when you're not alone?

Answer: Most of the time. I believe that occasionally its OK to take a quick call from your mother or a long lost friend, but more often than not calls from the car are unnecessary. "Just wait until you get home and call the person back!" is what Ashley would say. She's right and I should probably be a little more disciplined on this one.

2) When you're on the toilet?

Answer: There is never a situation where you should place or receive a call while using the bathroom. If talking in the car is rude, talking while on the can is despicable. End of discussion.

3) On the golf course?

Answer: I just had to throw this one in for my good friend Adam. He answers his phone any time or place which I usually appreciate, because that means I can always reach him. However, that needs to stop when we're on the course. Sorry Adam, you gotta turn that phone off some time.

4) When you're already talking to someone else?

Answer: Is clicking over a big deal? I hope not because I do it quite a bit. Actually, I'm pretty sure it is rude, but I guess I just hope people don't mind that much when I ask "Can you hold on for a second."

What are your thoughts?

Sorry Charlie!

Charlie. You've been a little difficult lately, especially during your nightly baths, but it looks like your a nice boy after all. Here is a note your mother just sent me.


"Just thought I'd let you know that our boy took a bath with a shampoo this morning and was happy the whole time. He's been talking ever since. "Arr Arrr Arrr Arr Arrr Arrrrrrrrrrrrrr."

He's good boy. He's working on his car right now. I think he needs to go to Kragen."

Evil or Just Mean?

I came home from work today and Ashley was nearly in tears. Charlie was sound asleep on our bed looking as peaceful as ever. Innocent baby or scheming meanie?

Don't be fooled. His 9 month old baby face is just a facade. He knows much more than he lets on and plays the "I need attention because I can't walk, talk or feed myself" card as well as anyone. Evil? No. But this kid has got something up his sleeve, I guarantee it. Charlie, you're on notice!

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

Here are a few things that deserve respect but don't get enough:

1. The U.S. of A. - How about a warm round of applause and a salute for a pretty great country?
2. Hamburgers and pizza - Why do these two foods get such a bad rap? Both can offer a balance of protein, carbs and fats. And mmmmmm...they hit the spot. Respect them for what they are.
3. Police officers - Based on what I've seen on COPS they have to deal with some pretty nasty stuff so we don't have to.
4. Rental property - Anyone who disrespects (trashes) anything they have borrowed should be prepared to reimburse the owner in full (including any inconvenience caused by their neglect).
5. Automotive paint jobs - Be careful when you open your door, regardless of how fancy the car is next to you. No one likes a ding in their car's paint.
6. Mothers - I shouldn't have to explain this one, but I don't think they will ever get the respect they deserve.
7. Carpet - I appreciate the guest that removes their shoes. I'm not offended if they don't, but its always a nice gesture. Years of foot traffic can leave a mark.
8. Other people's time - If you organize a meeting, make sure it ends on time (especially church meetings).
9. Parents - I think parents should demand respect. Children who treat their parents with a lack of respect should be disciplined. And parents who don't discipline their children lack self-respect.
10. Not opinions - I don't understand the phrase "I respectfully disagree". To respect is to esteem or honor. If I don't agree with something, by definition, I don't respect it. I do however believe one can, "politely disagree". I'm working on that one.

Leaving Las Vegas

There is one thing, and one thing only I like about Vegas. That is leaving it. And I can't do that until Thursday night. I'm here for Symantec's annual users conference and I can't wait to leave.

I only wish I could live what Sheryl Crow put so well...

"I'm leaving Las Vegas, and I won't be back, no I won't be back, not this time."

Glory Days

As I get older fewer and fewer things are new and exciting. It doesn't worry me so much as it makes me sad. I miss the thrill of discovery and taking chances, especially during my teenage years. I miss the anticipation of a big snowboarding trip with friends, the excitement of a new school year or the exhilleration of sneaking out in the middle of the night to go joy riding...you know what I mean.

Would I choose then over now? Absolutely not. Teenage years are so filled with insecurity and uncertainty that it's impossible to be perfectly happy as a teenager. And I love my life now and I'm happier than I ever have been. I wouldn't trade it for a second, but getting older does take the surprise out of life. I miss surprises.

Bonk!

Tonight I let Charlie stand and play at our ottoman while I dug into some Wheat Thins, cheddar cheese and a Diet Coke. Lately I've been so proud of the fact that he can stand on his own while holding on to things. Then I messed up. I spilled my Coke on the couch. The first big spill on the couch.


I quickly snatched up the Coke but it was too late. I put my plate of crackers and the Coke on the floor next to Charlie and ran to get a rag (Charlie still standing at the ottoman). I raced back to the couch to blot up the mess. As I dabbed at the couch I took my eye off Charlie. The next thing I saw was Charlie falling towards the floor like a small redwood tree felled at the base. Unfortunately the soft carpet didn't break his fall, the Diet Coke did. He smashed little cheek into the can and began to scream.

That was Charlie's first big bonk. I felt horrible as I tried to console him. He just sobbed. Luckily a warm bath and a little Baby Einstein made him forget about that little incident.

I knew Diet Coke was bad for babies, but until tonight I wasn't quite sure why. Now I know.

Alpha Nerd of the Week

Ashley likes to slick Chalie's hair to the side. She says it's cute. I say it's nerdy. Add some glasses and you can see what I mean.


Maybe some day he can be a mathlete just like his mom : )

More Than a Hobbie

I'm watching the final round of THE PLAYERS Championship...for the 3rd time this week.



I keep the yardage guidebook for Spyglass Hill on my nightstand and I read it at night before I go to bed. It warms my heart.

What do you dream about?

Mother Ashley

Ashley is the best mother in the whole wide world for the same reason she is the best wife in the world. She is loving, thoughtful and selfless. But to understand the loving and selfless person Ashley is you have to see her in action.

Saturday morning at 6:30 am when Charlie cried and she jumped out of bed saying to me "It's your day, you go back to sleep." This was after getting up multiple times with Charlie the night before.

You see, yesterday was my Saturday. That's our plan. Tennis, the gym, golf...whatever I wanted to do. Next week Ashley gets hers. Every other week we trade Saturday's with one of us responsible for Charlie and the other free to do whatever they please.

When I finally rolled out of bed at 8:30 she had already been up for a couple of hours with Charlie. She smiled and said, "What are you going to do with your day?" She was excited for me in a Carpe Dium sort of way. Ashley takes little thought for herself, and truly enjoys knowing that others are happy.

After a game of tennis and a trip to the gym, I came back home to find Ashley building our emergency kits for when the bird flu strikes. She had Charlie in one hand and waterproof matches in the other. When I tried to lighten her load by taking Charlie, she said, "Today is your day, I'll take care of Charlie."

And last night when my family came over after dinner in downtown Sunnyvale Ashley offered to bathe Charlie (normally my job) so I could spend time with my family. Then she dressed him for bed and rocked him to sleep (not an easy chore).


Yes, Saturday was my day. But the truth is, every day is my day. That's the way she makes me feel. I think that's the way she makes everone feel.

Ashley believes in making people happy, especially me and Charlie. She says nice things and does nice things, because that's the way humans should be.

She also gives good gifts. Thoughtful ones with a gift receipt. She never pays less than her fair share of the tab (in fact she'll pay for all of it if you're not careful). She believes in gushing and complimenting people whenever she can. She also believes in charity.

This week alone she has made dinner for a neighbor with a newborn baby, sent another dinner to a nearby family who has fallen on hard times, given $20 to a man who needed money for gas, spent an afternoon with a wayward young girl, fed the missionaries twice and if I had let her she would have given them all my double fudge brownie ice cream too (I had to draw the line).

As a mother, Ashley is second to none. None I say! Straight up, Charlie is the luckiest child on the entire planet. Charlie is a sweet kid, but he can be downright ornery, loud, stubborn, temperamental and just plain difficult. It's not his fault, what with all the teething, the growth spurts and poopy diapers. Regardless, his demanding lifestyle is enough to drive any parent insane (seriously). Yet, all Ashley can do is love him more each day. She never complains. As a matter of fact she tells me almost daily that she loves her life and loves spending time with Charlie. She can't wait to have another baby. She also can't wait to be a grandmother.



In a world with many selfish people (me included) Ashley is one of those rare ones who lives for others. She would deny this, but its true. I am so glad she is my wife and Charlie's mother. Yep, Charlie and me are pretty darn lucky.

Clear Expectations

Mr. Dickens can have his Great Expectations. I'll settle for clear. And clear is what I got. I know of noone who more clearly communicates expectations than Ashley.

Just moments ago she leaned over my shoulder and said, "Just in case you're wondering, I'm expecting something for Mother's Day. Would you like me to give you guidelines?"

No, I don't want guidelines, but I do appreciate knowing what is expected of me (even though sometimes that approach can be a bit tacky).

When I tell her I love her, she says, "Why?" instead of "Thank you." or "Me Too." She reminds me that I need to say or do more for her sake. She expects gushy proclamations of love and adoration. When there's not enough gush on my end (almost always), she tells me. It's the same reason she has a "To Do List" for me (my idea). When she wants me to do something, she tells me, or writes it down. It doesn't get much clearer than that.

Other things I know Ashley expects of me:

• Take the trash out to the curb


• Bathe Charlie at night


• Earn a decent living (enough to make sure Charlie has a nice home and cute shoes)


• Mow the lawn


• Be a loving dad & husband who holds up his share of the household responsibilities
  

The list is a little longer than this, but its not about length or greatness. I just appreciate that her expectations of me are clear.

I Prefer

Cheese to green beans, work and paying bills.



This blog posting was inpired by my wife Ashley's blog It's Good To Be Ashley Carter

Work, Work, Work

Everyone I know has a signature quote from someone they admire. I just found mine. I read this while reading the New Era today (a church publication I haven't read in about two decades).

"Work, work, work is the key to getting things done, the key to success in life. There is no substitute for work, for getting up in the morning and getting at it and staying with it to get the job done. I don't know of a greater asset for whatever lies ahead in life than the capacity to discipline oneself to work."

- President Gordon B. Hinckley, The New Era, March 2007

All Apologies

I've gotten pretty good at apologies over the last 3 years. My latest apology came just yesterday when I hijacked Ashley's blog. I thought the whole thing was hilarious. She didn't. Just hours after I took over her blog I was "compelled" to give it back, and all evidence of my brief ownership was promptly removed.

The whole situation remindeds me of another time I thought something would be hilarious, but wasn't. It involved a trick cigarette lighter that shocks its victim when touched.

It was my first Christmas with Ashley and her family. We were out to dinner with her family. The whole family; Parents, siblings, aunts & uncles, grandparents, cousins...they were all there.

During dinner her cousin passed me a lighter that was actually an electric shocking device. I thought it would be really funny to try it on Ashley (first mistake). Since we were holding hands under the table, like newlyweds do, I figured I could just slip the lighter into her hand without her even knowing (second mistake). It would be the perfect surprise. It turned out to be a huge surprise, but things didn't play out quite like I imagined.

After Ashley shrieked she threw one of the hardest elbows I've ever seen in my direction. Then she started to cry. The stares and silience that followed are probably the darkest, most embarrassing moments I have ever experienced.

By the end of dinner the situation calmed down a bit. Ashley's dad never decided to press charges and Rex (Ashley's heat packing FBI brother) didn't take me out in the alley and shoot me. But that little 'prank' remains to this day the most uncomfortable, embarrassing thing I've ever done.