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.