You Wonder How These Things Begin

The title for this post is a quote from "The Fantasticks", a musical that I have been in love with since High School and which took up my last September. It was while performing this show that I conceived the idea for my current work in progress. It was a joke made to one of the other cast members that has grown and taken on a life of its own. However, to say that is where it began would be a simplification. It's beginning stretches back in time to books I've read, jokes I've heard, and moments from my own life that I didn't even realize were leading to this story. Finding true beginnings is hard.

Instead, let's focus on the now. The more immediate moments that have led to my current state of mind. Heh. Focus. That's not really going to happen. Even as I write this my mind wanders to the past.

Anyway, on Friday I had a sit down meeting with a friend of mine. It was very casual and we discussed some business. We came to mutual agreement and shook hands on it. However, because it's business and we live in an ugly world there will eventually be documents to be signed. I believe, but am not sure, that my friend feels a similar disgust that such steps are necessary between friends. Still, we live in a world where it is highly necessary to take steps for your own personal security. Can you imagine that? Keeping ourselves safe from our friends.

Please, do not think that I am upset or angry at my friend. It is an ire directed at the world, and no one in specific. If it was directed, I would probably direct it at myself. After all, I am as eager to have a binding agreement safe-guarding my interests (and his) as he is to safe-guard his own (and, I believe, mine).

Again, I drift into tangents. I had a moment of bluster talking to him when I announced, "I'll have the first draft of my next project finished by the end of July." This thought didn't come out of nowhere. I had previously contemplated it over the past few days. It was doable, but not necessarily likely. It could have been a private goal kept to myself. If I succeeded I could have celebrated. If I had missed the goal, none would have been the wiser. However, I decided to make the goal public. Now, I have to get it done. Why? Because there is no reason I can't get it done,and I don't like to make excuses. If that first draft isn't finished by the end of July, it's because I didn't try hard enough. I will have let other pursuits (like this blog post) interfere with my progress.

So, here I am with a self-imposed deadline for a project. Fortunately, the first half is already written and just needs to be transferred from the notebook to the computer. I started doing that immediately. The good news is that as I typed, I like what I was typing. It wasn't perfect, but after six months of sitting it's not bad. That will make re-writes easier. It also rejuvenated my interest for the project. It had been flagging after I finished the first act and wasn't sure where to go. That hesitation is gone.

This is partly because of an article I read by Terry Pratchett in his book "A Slip of the Keyboard." In it he talks about working with Neil Gaiman, not just on "Good Omens", but on independent projects. They would send ideas to each other about sticky plot points, how to solve them, and where to go next. Despite the trope that writing is a solitary activity, I was reminded again that good writing is a group activity. You need the feedback, advice, and insight of others to help you craft a good story. Adding to this, I read an article about beta reading Brandon Sanderson's "Oathbreaker". It reaffirmed that same basic idea. My first draft doesn't have to be good, it just needs to be finished. My support group will help me fix the problems.

Anyway, this led me to think about the story over the weekend. It's been one of the dominant thoughts on my mind. Others include learning lines for the upcoming show, finishing work, spending time with my family in a schedule full to bursting, and Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild (what an incredibly expansive and addicting game). Pondering has given me a lot of good ideas. Most won't make their way into the show, but some will. One of my constant questions is "Who is going to die?". I know someone will be dying at the end of the story. I just don't know who yet. As I pondered on Sunday I came up with an idea for one character. It completed a story arc for him. The current project is a musical and so I imagined him having a song at this moment. He stood on stage surrounded by people, thrust to the edges of the stage, giving him the focus. The lights fade and he is spotlit in blue. And he laments. It was touching. It was powerful. I almost cried. It doesn't exist, yet. At that moment I knew this moment would be in the show.

However, as I continued to work that moment of bliss led to despair. I am not a lyricist. Can I create that powerful moment or will I need to turn it over to someone else? I hate the idea of needing someone else to write my lyrics, but what else can I do?

This leads to last night. Last night I had a dream. Okay, several nights ago. It took me several days to write this blog post. But when I wrote those lines it was last night. Too much unnecessary honesty?

Let me start by saying that I believe in a very rational explanation of dreams. Dreams are the detritus of a mind busily creating memories and sorting through the stimuli of a sensory overloaded day. The more you think about things, the more likely they are to appear in your dreams. It's never a guarantee, but what has been on your mind is going to be in your dreams. I've been thinking about this, so it's only fair that I dream about it.

On the other hand, I do not completely eliminate dreams as messages. I don't believe that most dreams are messages, and not all dreams need to be prophetic to be of use. We can learn from dreams even if they are just the waste product of an active mind. I hope we can learn from them.

I'll start the story mid-dream, because that's where I remember it. There was an old theatre, empty, unused. Unloved. A small group of my friends decided that we were going to buy that theatre for our own purposes. There were four of us. My friends, in the way of dreams, were faceless wraiths acting as place holders for people. Only when it became important would they take on an actual identity. Then, they would change identity as necessary as well.

We approached the owner of the theatre to put forth our proposal. However, before he would even hear our proposal he decided to test us; he wanted to see if we were worthy of his property. I guess, in some fashion, it wasn't entirely unloved after all. Then he began making demands. He made my friend Brent (now he has an identity because he's the center of the attention). sit down at a keyboard and play. Play he did. After listening to him play a complex version of "Phantom of the Opera" he asked him to break it down to it's core theme in as simple form as possible. Brent did so, playing this melody in several different keys.

I am going to refrain, but it's possible for me to breakdown for you why Brent, why "Phantom of the Opera", and even why he was asked to break it down to it's core theme. All those things have their correlates in real-life.

It was impossible to tell whether the man was pleased or not, but he moved on to me. He asked me to sing. I tried to waive him off, but he insisted. I found myself thrust into center stage and expected to sing. I have a handful of songs that I have practiced for auditions and recitals. At that moment I could remember none of them. It seems all to common in dreams to be unable to reach information that should be readily available, perhaps because it is all too common when we are awake.

I dithered. He pressured. Eventually, I remembered the opening lines to one of my songs. Having no other choice, I began to sing. It was my hope that after singing the two lines I knew that the rest of the song would come back to me. However, it didn't. I was halfway through the second line when I realized that I would either have to admit I had failed (which did not seem like a good idea) or just start making up my own lyrics. And so that is what I did. I kept on singing.

Part of me is glad I couldn't capture the lyrics to have when I woke up. I'm afraid they would be far less wonderful than they seemed in the dream. Not that they were perfect, even in my sleep my critical side complained that I was repeating a single word too often. However, I completed a song that seemed to be about a person needing rehab and begging someone to take him there and help him clean himself up. My dream self was crying (a correlate to making myself cry pondering this awake?) when he got to the climax of the song.

And that's the dream as I can remember it.

The point? The point is that my brain, asleep, managed to come up with lyrics. It did so easily, freely, without fear. It just created. And at the time (although clearly dreams are never a time to judge quality) it seemed like the lyrics were pretty good. If I can do that asleep, I should be able to write amazing lyrics when I'm awake.

So that's what I'm going to do. I'll write the first draft of the book (due by the end of July). Then while I wait to get feedback from my support group I'll begin writing the lyrics to the songs. After all, who else is going to do it if I don't?

When it was 2016 it was a very _____ year.

Memes take an idea and turn it into an obsession.

The most prominent example currently would be "2016 was a horrible year". Although, most of the expressions of that thought have been a lot more extreme.

However, as I consider my own 2016 I know that it was not the horrible year that many people are making it out to be. Sure, a lot of celebrities died and for many of them I was hit in the feels. However, unlike their family, it did not have a major impact on my life. Just like the many other people who died in 2016 that I didn't hear about because they weren't famous. Their deaths did little to affect my life.

I don't mean to belittle their deaths. Those deaths impacted someone and John Donne's classic poem would have me believe that each loss diminishes mankind. However, did they have a strong negative effect on my well-being? No. For me, 2015 was far worse than 2016. In 2015 I lost two close family members. Those had far greater impact than all the celebrity deaths of 2016.

Look at the children. My children know little about the deaths of Gene Wilder, Carrie Fisher, Alan Rickman, or Prince. Why? I didn't tell them. I didn't tell them because I knew they wouldn't care. Their year was completely unaffected by the death of famous people. Shouldn't my year be the same way?

I mean, what are the important things that actually impacted my year? Can I judge the year by those? Yes, yes I can. I was healthy most of the year. I got to participate in my favorite hobby multiple times and had a blast doing so. My family was healthy. I was fed, I was clothed. I had friends who supported me in my goals. I actually achieved many goals.

All in all, 2016 was, for me, a good year. Not a great year, but definitely a good year.

I'm going into 2017 with a clear picture in my head. People are going to die. More celebrities will pass away. It happens. It will be heartbreaking. Things will happen in politics that I won't agree with. There will be sickness. There will be hard times. There will be laughter. There will be health. There will be family. There will be love.

I'm under no illusion that 2017 has to be better than 2016. I don't know what it will hold. There are bad times on the horizon. There always are. However, my 2017 won't be judged by those moments. It will be judged by all the happy moments in between. I'm hoping to make a lot of them. I have a lot of goals after all.

So Happy New Year everyone!

And my condolences to everyone who lost someone important to them in 2016.

Personal Growth

I struggle, like many people, with maintaining long term change. My wife is a wonderful example of long term change. This year she stopped drinking Pepsi. It was difficult for her. Really difficult. Yesterday, she impressed me when she admitted she finally felt like she was done drinking soda.

I am proud of her.

I am less proud of myself. Stepping on a scale recently I discovered I had gained ten pounds. My scale is old, electronic, and unreliable. I couldn't believe my new high weight was 10 pounds over my old high weight. I wanted to believe that my unreliable scale was being unreliable. However, I couldn't deny the fact that my dress pants no longer fit. My wife tells me to buy new pants. I want the old pants to fit. It's time to lose the weight.

It is important I start with a few key statements. My weight loss goal is not about me trying to match a visual image that society says is appealing. It is about health. I want to maintain numbers that research suggests lead to a longer more active life. Those are two things I want. Live longer. Be active.

More immediately, I want to increase my stamina so I can exert myself for longer periods without feeling out of breath. A few weeks ago I played a couple of games of Ultimate Frisbee. I had an immense about of fun. I was also unable to keep up the pace that I wanted to. After a few minutes I was slowing down to a walk and letting my teammates do the legwork. I wish I hadn't had to do that. It will also help me with theatre. Being able to sing and dance at the same time is a valuable ability.

This is not the first time I have attempted to lose some weight and get in better shape. Obviously, previous attempts haven't been entirely successful. Why? I have a problem. On new projects I push myself too hard, burn out quickly, and end projects prematurely before there is lasting change. I want things to be different this time. A different ending requires a different beginning.

There are two things I am doing differently. First, I am keeping a detailed record of my progress. My wife used a calendar pinned on the bedroom wall to mark each day she went without soda. It is now in her bullet journal. I am copying that. I don't have a bullet journal and I was too lazy (not an auspicious beginning) to print my own calendar pages. Instead, I am using the existing Chick-Fil-A calendar we have in the kitchen.

Each day I will write down the basic exercises I did that day including how many of each I did. On Sunday mornings I will weigh myself and mark that down on the calendar as well. Also, I will try on my dress pants. That's not getting recorded on the calendar.

Second, I am starting slow. On August 13th I did 10 push-ups. Then I marked it on the calendar. I could have done more. I chose not to. Slow beginnings. I took Sunday off. I don't work out on Sunday's except for the occasional casual stroll. I marked that on the calendar too.

The real work began on Monday, August 15th. I did 10 push-ups first thing in the morning. Then I marked it on the calendar. I kept that up every day of Week One. Then I reached Saturday. Saturday's are different.

The thing is slow starts are well and good to get you back in the habit of physical activity, but grow requires going a little farther. Humans, in general, can do more than we think we are capable off. My Saturday routine is based off of ideas from this video. Saturday is the day I push myself.

I do not go to the Navy Seal extreme. It is not the day I do 100 pull-ups. There is no goal to be military ready. I am not going crazy, but each Saturday I do more than I did the other days of the week. I push myself a little farther. Then I write it down, and I total up my activity. The first Saturday I did 19 push-ups instead of 10. If you're counting that is 69 push-ups total.

That was Week 1. Each new week has two goals. 1. Add. 2. Increase.

1. Add

Each week I add a new exercise. Week 2 I added sit-ups (20). I was enthusiastic so I added jumping jacks (30) as well. Week 3 I added pull-ups (2). That's not a typo. This week I have added hanging forward knee tucks (10). I still need to add stretching into the routine and wish I had done it earlier. I am not sure what I will add after that. Planks are a possibility or pike position leg lifts. Burpees will never be a possibility.

I managing these additional exercises by not doing them all at once. I do them throughout the day, making opportunities as needed. Push-ups are first thing in the morning immediately after rolling out of bed. Pull-ups shortly after. Jumping jacks are generally in the afternoon. Sit-ups are usually the last exercise I do. That, of course, is risky because it means they are the exercise most likely to be skipped. However, keeping a written record is a great incentive to not miss a day (I missed one day).

The benefit of this method is that I don't have to set aside a portion of my day for exercise. Two minutes are easier to come by than an uninterrupted half hour or more. Also, it keeps my body active throughout the day. This is helpful when I sit for long periods of time. I have read some articles that say this helps the body burn more calories throughout the day. If that's true maybe those pants will fit sooner than I had hoped.

2. Increase

Each week I increase the number of reps I do for each exercise. Push-ups have risen from 10-->15-->20-->21. I will continue to increase push-ups by one each week until I reach 30 push-ups. Then I might add sets. We'll see. Sit-ups, jumping jacks, and pull-ups have all similarly increased. Pull-ups went to a whopping three!

As a last note, except on rare occasions I do not note my outdoor activities (walking, inline skating, swimming, etc.). I don't completely know why I don't include these. Most likely I don't want to take the effort to quantify them. Do I note how long I walked/skated/swam? How far? Mostly, I don't care. Walking has never been a problem. I like to walk. So, I don't track it.

I don't expect to increase and add for forever. Eventually I will run out of exercises I can easily do around the house. At that point I'll stop adding. I won't increase forever either. Eventually I'll hit a point where I am highly satisfied with how much I am doing to keep in shape. Then I'll strive to maintain that.

That is my plan. I will try and keep you updated on how well it is working.

I met a man

Somewhen during the nebulous time between Friday and Saturday I met a man. I did not learn his name; it never seemed important. I know almost nothing about him, even after I had the chance to spend several hours in his presence. Let me tell you what I remember.

He was a large man, easily six feet with some inches to spare, and a soldier's physique. His head was covered in rough black hair. It's texture and color was more memorable than it's style, as I struggle to recall whether he kept it short or wore it long. I do remember that he had the same coarse black hair on his face, forming a neatly trimmed beard except on his cheeks. Like me.

If I had to guess, I would say he was in his late 40's or more likely his early 50's. Like his name I did not ask. It never seemed important.

This man was not a kind man. He was not a cruel man. He was quick with a sarcastic comment or a cutting truth, and he often had jokes that were more crude than funny. I feel that he tolerated my presence, but did not welcome it. The feeling was mutual. I was not there by choice.

Our early time together has been quickly forgotten, that is how little impact it had on me. I could not tell you where we met or why. It never seemed important. Our last moments were spent driving to a destination he would not tell me. It was a secret. We rode in his truck. He had given me the opportunity to drive his other truck with trailer attached. I declined, too scared to drive an unknown road alone. He almost left while I was making my decision, and at the last second I climbed aboard his truck and settled into the back seat. The trailer was left behind.

The front passenger seat was occupied by the man's wife. I caught a glimpse of her, but we didn't speak a single word to each other. She never acknowledged my presence; I never acknowledged hers. That is all the attention I paid her. It never seemed important. The man steered his truck effortlessly. We did not ride the paved highways. He took us through bumpy fields, unerringly finding passageways through fences and forests, changing his course only when we passed through a gate and entered a new field. Then he would adjust our course directly to the next gate on our journey.

Inside I worried about the damage we were doing to the fields and how the landowner's felt about our presence on their property. We never saw anyone. Out loud I asked how he found this back way to our destination. He answered, but his words eluded me and I never discovered the origins of his shortcut. I imagined that it took countless trips exploring the boundaries of grains and greenery until he found the way from each field to the next.

We reached our final destination. A small gravel covered clearing amidst a ring of trees. The only sign of civilization was the transmission tower at the clearings edge that carried power lines away from us in both directions. The man immediately began preparing food to the hungry masses; he promised they would arrive. The location seemed an unlikely one for a random visit; I never doubted him. As he worked others arrived and set up their trucks as well and began their own preparations. As he worked the man told me of all the foods he could supply if he had his truck and trailer. However, without his trailer things were different. He could still serve food, but the menu would be limited. Nevertheless, they would manage. Despite these words, I could hear his disappointment in me and I was disappointed in myself.

About this time the somewhen became more solidly Saturday and my deep sleep became half-sleep. My waking mind had the realization that the dream was ending. This was a familiar experience. However, this time it was accompanied by another feeling. I realized that when I woke up the man would disappear. He would ceased to exist. His life, such as it was, would end forever. And I felt sad.

I felt sad for the loss of a man who had shown me no special kindness and done me no favors. I felt sad for the loss of a man who had little to recommend himself to me or others. I felt sad because he would disappear and I was the only one who had ever known him.

I am still unsure how I managed it, dreams our not ours to control, but I forced myself back into sleep and continued with this man a little longer, giving him life for a few precious minutes, and enjoying his company until I inevitably woke. The dream and the man ended.

He was not real; he was a creation of my mind. In the full light of day the ending of the dream was not such a major loss. It shouldn't have seemed important, but it was important. Important enough that I felt the need to share this story. I have no grand meaning that I want to tell you. No message, no moral. Take from my experience what you will. If you take nothing, I will not be offended. The experience was mine, not yours.

I will not spend my days grieving for the dream man, or hoping that I dream of him again. There are more important things to occupy my mind. But I will remember him for a while. Most importantly, I will remember the feeling of loss I had once upon a dream.

A Day in the Kitchen

At times it is difficult to focus on the positive. I want to be positive, but I have all these rants burning inside me. I want to rant.

I will refrain. Instead of venting my frustrations with yardwork I will write about my day. Today was spent cooking. So here is a journal of my day by food.

1. The morning meal was breakfast burritoes. My family doesn't usually do big breakfasts, but we made an exception on Sunday's this year because our church schedule interferes with lunch. A big breakfast helps to compensate for that and carry the children through.

Breakfast burritoes consisted of eggs, bacon, cheese, Cholula hot sauce, and tortillas. When I was a child (and into college) I would cook with pre-cooked flour tortillas. However, several years ago my wife discovered raw flour tortillas. You just peel them apart and throw them on to a hot pan. They are fantastic. Usually our burritoes would include fried potatoes, but our spuds were not in good shape. Also, I always forget the potatoes.

2. Ale rolls. This is one of the many recipes from my new baking book. I have been meaning to make this recipe for a while, but I don't drink and the recipe calls for a good ale. I asked some friends in the past and finally got around to purchasing a bottle. I went with Newcastle.

My daughter watched Kid's Baking Championship last night. Now she wants to be a baker. I had her help me with this, talking her through my limited baking knowledge as we worked. She helped gather the ingredients and put them in the bowl. However, she didn't like how it felt on her hands and went to eat instead of kneading.

I have to say that the ale stinks. There's definitely a reason I don't drink. When the bread rolls were baking my wife said it made the house smell like a brewery. I don't know if that is true; I've never been to a brewery. However, the entire house did smell like the ale for the first few minutes of cooking.

My daughter did come back for punching the dough down (she was looking forward to it) and my wife helped teach her to shape them. The end product was a roll with a crusty outside and a soft inside. The rolls were good, but the ale didn't add any noticeable taste. For me that's a bad thing. A special ingredient should have had a more noticeable impact. I won't be making them again. I have better options available.

3. Oatmeal cookies. On a shopping trip recently I bought some Little Debbie Oatmeal Creme Pies. Disappointing. I guess your taste buds can't go back to childhood. That experience lead me to make my own oatmeal cookies.

Again, I enlisted my daughter's aid. I had intended to have her make them herself, while I watched. I have trouble letting go off control in he kitchen. However, she did make a good portion of them so that is a victory for both of us.

Since I hadn't planned on making these today I wasn't ready with ingredients. I found a recipe promising me the chewy cookies I desired and started making them. However, I soon found that we didn't have enough brown sugar. And I learned that I can adapt. I've been making cookies and other things enough that I changed sugar types and amounts without blinking.

Then as my daughter was adding the vanilla we discovered we had a fraction of the of the vanilla needed. I almost decided to just forgo the vanilla, but double-checked the pantry in case we had more. We didn't. However, we did have Almond Extract. I grabbed it and after both my daughter and I gave it a sniff we approved it for the dough. A taste a moment later indicated I made the correct choice. It blended perfectly.

We finished the dough and then I talked to my daughter about mix-ins, trying to teach her that this is where you make recipes your own. My wife and I were trying to steer her toward cranberry walnut, but she chose raisin walnut. Also, the other half batch was chocolate chip because apparently today is chocolate chip cookie day.

My wife agreed. The Almond Extract was the right choice and the sugar changes worked out well. The cookies were fantastic and I think I have the first recipe that is mine. True, it is an adaptation of someone's recipe, but it is so similar to so many cookie recipes out there I don't mind.

4. Pork tenderloin. Ending my day grilling makes me happy. The biggest problem was the length of the tenderloins. It made it hard to get the ends cooked evenly with the middle. I was satisfied with the end result and now there is extra tenderloin for lunches.

I think the two main takeaways to today are this:

A. I am becoming a capable, adaptable cook. I can adapt recipes and cook without them if I need to. My understanding of food has increased dramatically over the last decade.

B. I have control issues in the kitchen. Serious control issues. I would rather be alone in the kitchen than working with others. That is something for me to work on, because if my daughter's reaction is anything to go on I'll be working with people in the kitchen for a long time to come.

What Friends Are For

On Friday, 22 April 2016 I sat down with a group of friends. We were upstairs in the rehearsal room of the Orpheum Theatre. I was setting up chairs while my friends arrived. There were five of them, who haven't given me permission to mention them in this post, so they shall remain anonymous. Three males, one who described himself as barely conscious, and two females were gathered to do me a huge favor.

They were there to read my stage play to me.

My friends are saints. They volunteered time out of their busy schedule to support me in one of my endeavors. The quintet showed no reservation, which is remarkable. Multiple of them later confessed that they had some concerns, but they had the good grace not to mention them beforehand. Their concerns were understandable. I've read amateur literature before. It can be painful. Incredibly painful. They were aware of that.

What made it worse for them is that they weren't going to be reading it in the privacy of their own homes where they could read at their own pace or even give up if it became too much. They weren't going to have time to consider their responses and script a response to spare my feelings. No, they were going to be reading it to my face. They were going to have my full attention.

A lot of pressure.

They showed up anyway. As a thank you I brought them water, Oreo cookies, M&M candies, and Cheez-It Crackers. I actually felt bad about that. I prefer to reward people with homemade food. My Friday was incredibly busy though. Work, library, vocal practice. There was probably something else I've already forgotten. End result, no time for homemade deliciousness.

Let me be honest, my friends tackled my play with enthusiasm. They laughed as they read it. At times because the work was humorous (even though I hadn't intentionally written in humor). At other times they laughed at phrases I had used. It wasn't malicious laughter, but it still let me know where the language needed to be tweaked.

It wasn't near as painful as I thought it was going to be. It wasn't perfect. The dialogue was wooden in several places, especially for one of the characters and it had nothing to do with my friend's acting ability.

Here's the kicker though. After they finished reading the play they began discussing it. As a matter of course, I made them discuss it while I listened as a non-participant. There conversation was fascinating. Thrilling. They talked about the character's and their motivations. They discussed parts that they loved. They argued about it.

My friend's saw depth in the characters that I hadn't intended, but I knew I could build upon. Their enthusiasm could not be faked. They had risked their evening to read my work and it had not been the painful experience it could have been.

It was even more enjoyable when I joined the conversation. I would talk about the characters and they would disagree with me. My work was taking on a life of its own in their heads. It was the type of analysis that I used to have in college classes about great works of literature. And we were having it about something I had created. Then the evening was over and we bid each other goodbye, with many of them looking forward to what would happen next.

The reason I am writing this post is this: That night was the most life-affirming moment of my life. I want to be a writer. I do. But I don't want to be just another amateur writing amateurish prose that will never see the light of day. I want to be a success. That night, I realized I could. I have the ability, all I need is to put in the time.

That night I was so happy. I barely slept because I was already revising in my head. I was planning the next steps. My friends had given me that excitement.

And that's what friends are for.




P.S.--The next steps are these:

1. Revise. I'm almost through revising Act 2. At this pace it will take me five weeks total to complete the revision. Hopefully I'll be done by May 31st. However, I know that this revision includes substantial expansion to the last scene, adding a new scene in the middle of the show, and then adjusting the rest of the scenes to accommodate the new information. Plus, I'm adding depth to two of the characters. Lot of work, while still trying to keep all the qualities of the first draft that made my friends fall in love with the piece (and yes, many of them confessed to loving the piece). Joygasm!
2. Second stage of feedback. This won't be a reading. I will be sending the new version of the script to the people who were at the reading, along with a select group of other people. They'll send me feedback directly. Okay, I might do another reading, but probably not.
3. Revise, again. Hopefully this will be a shorter revision as I'll be dealing with smaller issues. Hopefully.
4. The big part! Convince my friends to actually stage the show as a Work-In-Progress. Invite a small audience to come see it, discuss it, and provide me with feedback. Scary, but probably quite insightful for me.
5. Revise again.
6. Shop it. There's a writing contest in August I want to have it ready for. I hope it is, but it's tall order. We'll see what happens.

Progress

I have been making progress in my writing. I will not list the areas of my life where I am not making progress. That would just be depressing. Writing though! There is progress there.

The biggest bit of progress is that I finished my second first draft of the play I am writing. No, that was not a typo. It really does say second first draft.

Why?

I can write on the computer. In fact, the novel that I am supposed to be finishing was written on the computer. However, the play's format made writing directly on the computer obnoxious. It was time consuming. Instead, I chose to write it in a black notebook by hand. The upside was that I didn't need to worry about format. In fact, I actually wrote in long strings with out any spaces between. That included character names, stage directions, dialogue. Just all running together. It was a good way to save paper! The second upside was that I could write anywhere and know exactly where I was picking up from. And all my notes were there too. Super convenient. I have these black notebooks now for all my current writing projects, four in total plus a book for general writing exercises and brainstorming.

Long story longer: My first draft was finished in the notebook. Then, I copied it from the notebook to the computer. It was a time consuming process and not a lot of fun. Fortunately, I finished the hand-written portion just before Spring Break. When I transcribed it from the notebook to the computer I also made changes. There were a lot of major changes, but there were still changes. So, my first first draft was in the notebook. The changes I made aren't really big enough to warrant calling the electronic file a second draft, so instead it is my second first draft.

Moving on. I submitted my play to several friends who I trust to give me good feedback, including my father. He turned around and gave me feedback the next day. He echoed some advice I had received from several people: do a reading so you can hear it in other people's voices. I just happen to have some people I've worked with who had said the same thing AND said they wanted to help. So I contacted them.

After a few more contacts and conversation I have a reading of one of my written works this Friday. It will just be the small group, no audience. But it's exciting. I'll take my little black notebook and just listen and take notes. It's a major step towards my success as a writer and it makes me grateful to know such wonderful people. I am also beginning to realize that writing is a double-side coin. The writing itself is often a solitary activity. You write alone. However, the success of my work is dependent upon the people I can get to work with me to make it better.

It's nice to have something to look forward to at the start of a new week.

And that's progress.

Christmas Carols

I think I get it. I mean, like most people, I want to assume that I get it. However, I don't really "get" it. Why do people have such a problem with Christmas Carols? I love Christmas carols, especially the old classics. It is one of my favorite things about the winter season.

I know I'm not the only one who loves Christmas carols, so it surprises me when people start complaining about how early Christmas carols are getting played and how quickly they tire of them. This year I was cast in "A Christmas Carol". It put me in the holiday spirit fairly early so I started to listen to Christmas carols a few weeks earlier than I might have otherwise (we're talking about before Thanksgiving). It made me happy. Other people, not so much.

It seems that most people want their Christmas carols for a limited time or they will become "sick of them." This confuses me, because they can listen to the same inane, generic pop songs on their playlist over and over for twelve months of the year. Give them anything approaching a full month of Christmas carols and they start to go insane as if they are being put upon. It just doesn't make sense to me.

But it does. And so here is what I think is going on. There are two issues at stake.

1. When Christmas carols first start playing people begin to think of the stress of holiday shopping. It's an early reminder of the increasing commercialization of the holiday. People don't really object to the music, they object to how the pressures of Christmas are reaching back earlier and earlier in the year. This is also why Christmas music becomes more enjoyable (for some) as Christmas approaches. As they get into the spirit of giving, get their shopping done, and decrease their stress the Christmas music is less threatening and more reminiscent of the positive emotions of the season.

2. Christmas is something to look forward to when the days are getting shorter and colder. Christmas carols help remind us of that. It's a comfort. However, after Christmas is over the weather is still cold, the days are still dark, and the Christmas carols are now reminding us of a day that has gone by, not one that is rapidly approaching. Christmas carols become associated with the cold and the snow. That's depressing for many people. So what do they do? Wish the Christmas carols would go away.

There might be other reasons. There's also the reasons we tell ourselves when we're hiding from the truth. I don't have all the answers. I just know I love Christmas music. In December or May, it doesn't matter. And I hope that maybe someday you'll learn to love it that much too.

Nice

In Sixth grade our class awarded one of our fellow students with the title of "Nicest Kid" or something like that. It was not a popularity contest, and even still I did not win. I wanted to win. I even thought I was going to win, but another student did. I can remember the student's face, but not his name. He deserved to win. He was a nice guy.

I did not learn my lesson. My wife described me this way, "If you have the choice between being nice and being funny, you choose funny." She wasn't wrong. In fact, I found myself so amused and well described by the statement that I used it to describe myself for quite a while, though I always attributed it back to my wife.

What can I say? I like to be funny. Humor is an essential part of my life.

However, increasingly I think about what type of man I want to be. What kind of example do I want to be for my children? And the answer that I keep coming back to is that I want to be nice. I want people to describe me as "the nicest person I know". Not because I want the praise, but I wish I could be that good to other people. I wish I could be so selfless. I'm a selfish person.

One of the nicest people I know is my father. He is not perfect. He isn't perfectly nice either. However, when I think of him I think about how he treats strangers. I rarely see him fail to hold doors for other people, to let other people go ahead of him, to pick up people's dropped items, or to help them with a joke and a compliment. He is always striking up friendly conversations with the people around him. And it's not just when it is convenient. I have seen him go out of his way to help other people. At times, it seems like my father is actively anticipating what the people around him or going to need. It's amazing.

And while he does that, where am I? I'm in my head. Thinking away and not helping.

I don't have any deep thoughts for the blog this week. There are no insights that I have gained. I think I mostly wanted to mention something that I admire in my dad. It's one of the ways I wish I could be more like him. So, thank you dad for being such a great example to me.

My New Obsession...

For years I've loved to cook. I can trace back my joy of cooking to early in my life, though it wasn't until after I got married that I really started to learn how to cook. That's a story for another day. When I've talked about my love of cooking there has always been an accompanying clarification. "I like cooking...except dough. Me and dough don't get along."

2016 is the year that changes. I am going to conquer my problems with dough through sheer exposure.

The desire to change that probably started with Netflix. Yes, Netflix. Don't judge me. You've been there too. In this case, my family and I had started watching food shows together on Netflix and after going through several classic Food Network Show (and some not so classic shows) we sat down and watched "The Great British Bake Off". It was enthralling. My wife and I have discussed how we wish American competitions would emulate their style more. It wasn't hyped, it wasn't false tension, it wasn't forced drama. It was a bunch of people in a tent doing what they loved--baking. And they did some amazing things.

I don't think I'll ever get to the level that the contestants were at, but it was fun watching what they created and I felt the desire growing within me. My wife and I looked up cook books written by the shows host and I ended up asking for "How To Bake" by Paul Hollywood for Christmas. My wife was gracious enough to get it for me and I started reading through it.

From my earlier research, I knew that this book was not converted for an American audience. Measurements are given by weight instead of cups and in grams instead of ounces. Temperatures are in Celsius. Liquids in milliliters.. This was actually an attraction instead of a deterrent. I already own an electronic scale that can do grams and ounces, a probe thermometer that can measure in Celsius (plus google to do conversions for oven temperature), and any good liquid measure already does milliliters anyway. Measuring in this fashion is often more accurate than our American cups so would lend to a better product. Needless to say, I was excited.
As I flipped through the book on Christmas morning a realization came to me. This was the book. The cookbook I had been seeking. Finally, in my hands I held a cookbook that I would master. Every single recipe. There would not be a single recipe I would skip. I would go through them one by one until I had mastered the art of baking and completed the book. It had recently become a goal of mine to find such a cookbook and now I had it.

Later examination would reveal that some of the recipes were less appealing than the rest, but I had already committed myself. This is going to be that book.

That is what I have been doing for the last 18 days (mostly on the weekends...baking takes time). I have been working my way through the book. Thus far I have really been stuck in the first chapter: Basic breads. This has included basic white bread in a loaf and as a cob, wholewheat bread, focaccia, crumpets, soda bread and today, barm cakes. The barm cakes we used as rolls for sloppy joes and they were delightful. All of it has been delightful. I'm adding sticky notes into the book to help me adjust the recipes as I go along.

For example, every recipe needs a little extra liquid (and he mentions it might). I'm guessing that's because of the dry climate I live in. The soda bread was the only failure (not fully cooked). It's a fun learning experience and I'm enjoying the hand kneading. It really helps gets the stress out and I like the exhausted feeling in my arms by the time I'm done.

So that's 2016...the year of baking. I'm sure I'll blog about it some more before the year is out. But if you're going to be stopping by let me know. I'll make something special for you.

Happy New Year

At Thanksgiving I started learning a new language: French. Simultaneously I started refreshing my Spanish. I used Duolingo to do so. One of the great things about the site is that they reward you for keeping up the daily practice with Lingots--an online currency you can use to buy bonus lessons, tests, or extensions on time to complete your lessons without breaking your streak.
My streak made it up to 36 days. Which was just amazing. I even maintained it over Christmas with limited internet access and having to work from my phone through the mobile site (it was not fun, let me tell you).

Unfortunately, something went wrong communicating with Duolingo on the last day of my vacation. Before going to bed I did my required number of lessons and earned my reward for building my streak. Logging on the next day from home and my streak mysteriously vanished. Some of my work from the day before had not logged properly (apparently).

Needless to say, I was a little broken hearted to see my streak vanish into nothing.

Here's the worst thing--I let it get to me. I walked away from the program and haven't reached my goal since. That's a shame, and it's all on me. It's just a silly little thing on the internet, but I let it rile me and affect my progress.

And I can't help but think about how many times I've let small disruptions in my habits break me apart and set me back to zero. How many times has a single day of missed exercise thrown me off exercising for months at a time? How many times have I stopped writing, because I missed a blog post?

I'm only failing if I let myself fail, and I've been letting myself fail a lot.

So here's the resolution for the New Year: Don't let little misses become major setbacks. Keep getting back up. Do it again. Get better. Keep trying.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go practice my French.

Visions

I have visions. I believe that I have said this before. If you read my blog it should not be a revelation to you.

I have visions. Lots of visions. They are my constant companion.

Previously, I have talked about how these visions are the inspirations for my writing; I turn scenes in my mind into words on a page. If done correctly these words will then recreate an approximation of the vision for the reader, for no matter how perfectly I craft my words you will never be able to perfectly describe the vision. There are too many details that are lost in translation.

Today though, I want to write about theatre. Theatre is an odd experience: Players collaborating to create great works which they will likely never see. I do not get to experience my visions recreated on stage because I am an actor inside of them. I help bring them to life, but am impossibly placed to experience the impact of the creation.

It is possible to record, but it is not the same. It is like trying to look at yourself in a mirror with your eyes closed. If your eyes are truly closed you cannot see yourself in the mirror. A photo or video does not recreate the experience. You will never look into the mirror with closed eyes.

For this reason, I want to move beyond being an actor. I want to direct. I want to create my visions and be able to see the fruit of the creation from the outside, to be separate from the work that was created. Visions. Obsessions. They are in my head. Sets, costumes, sounds, actors. All the aspects of a performance echoing inside my head bidding me to create them. Actors cross the stage, gesture with an arm, tilt their head just so. I have seen it. Sometimes I have seen some of you on the stage of my mind.

I have visions.

Currently, I am thinking of a show (I won't say which), but I can picture the staging. The lighting. The sound. The actors faces are blank, still to be cast, but I know where they are on stage. And I want it. I want it to be real. I want you to see what I see.

Maybe someday you will.

A Week from ...you know.

Technically, the next week is called Tech week, but the name that I hear it called more often is Hell Week. Tech week will be different for each person, and I know that my experience in community theatre is different than the experience in professional theatre.

When I started acting in high school we did not have tech week. Rehearsals were typically during school hours. Then we went home. We did two shows; life was beautiful. I won't say that our production value was poor, but our light and sound systems were minimal. That made tech weeks (almost) nonexistent. What we lacked in fancy staging we made up in enthusiasm (I'd like to think we did).

After high school I gave up the scripted stage for improv comedy. This meant weekly practices that lasted two hours, rarely longer. Tech consisted of knowing how to play music clips between games. Okay, there was a little bit more, but not much. A solid ten minute training for the tech person would prepare them for their roll. We would show up an hour before performance time, set up, and then just roll with it. Two hours later we're done and headed home. Easy peasy.

Community theatre has been much different. It is a major time commitment. For a lark, I thought this post would step through my upcoming week. In doing this, I do not want to give the impression that I am unhappy or complaining about the week. Truth be told, I am quite excited. Eager even. Likewise, I am not trying to indicate that I have a worse week than anyone. I know many people will have had tech weeks much busier than mine will be. Many people will be busy without having a tech week. Please, don't play the comparison game; I am giving you a window into my life. Also, I like to predict the future!

Monday

6:30 a.m.--Wake up. I feel fortunate. I know people getting up much earlier. This will give me enough time to get ready and be at work on time. I'll work 8 hours.

3:00 p.m.--Go to the library. Monday is library day in my family. We're not perfect, but we rarely miss. It's that important.

Approx. 4:00 p.m.--We arrive home from the library. Now I have a chance to get all the daily things that I would like to do, but rarely accomplish. This list includes: help with homework, practice my mandolin, practice French and Spanish, exercise, write, sing, tidy up around the house. Assume that list needs to take place everyday. It doesn't, but let's pretend it does. Monday, it's not going to happen. I'll accomplish a few things before grabbing my costume and mandolin and leaving for rehearsal that night.

5:00 p.m.--I will be dropped off at the Orpheum Theatre after less than an hour at home. This is 75 minutes early for rehearsal, but my children have a school showcase. I am unable to attend rehearsal and the showcase which means I am missing the showcase. It's my son's first. To make sure they arrive on time I am early.

Note: Doing theatre at Christmas typically means that I miss school events for my children. I consider this the biggest downside to doing theatre. Break a leg son!

Fortunately, Monday night the Orpheum will be holding auditions for two shows so I will audition, then eat dinner (hope I packed one at 4:00!). If I have enough free-time I will do the writing I didn't have enough time for earlier, but more likely I will run lines with cast members.

6:15--Rehearsals start. This will involve getting into costume, fitted with a microphone, mike checks, handing out new props and costumes, and going over specific scenes that the director feels need to be tweaked/improved. The "scratch band" will likely be one of the parts we run several times. After this introduction we will begin running the show from top to bottom. There will be minor pauses throughout to fix light and sound issues. When I am not onstage I will be in a darkened backstage area unable to talk. I will go over lines myself, but most of the time I will be watching and listening to what is happening on stage to make sure I am ready to do whatever needs to be done.

10:30--Rehearsals will end. They might end sooner, maybe later, but this is a fairly decent estimate. I will get a ride home and go straight to bed.

Tuesday

Repeat, except the part about the library. I'll likely be kicking myself for not finding a moment to exercise during the day. I will resolve to do better today.

3:15 p.m.--Arrive home. I'll do some push-ups and sit-ups to make up for the lack of exercise on Monday. See the list above for all the other things I will try and do.

5:30 p.m.--At the Orpheum early again so that my oldest daughter can make it to her school festival on time. This is the second event of the week that I will be missing.

6:00--Rehearsals start. They'll run exactly the same: 4 1/2 hours of practice, tweaking, repeating until rehearsal is done for the night. It will be incredibly fun. It will also be amazing to watch the transformation of the show with all the special effects and costumes almost completed. There will be stops and starts as necessary, but fewer than before.

Wednesday

Repeat. Again. The toll of the first two days will start to build on me and I'll hope that maybe today I will be able to have a nap. It won't happen; worse, I'll make myself do some working out and end up more exhausted than before.

6:00--Dress rehearsal. Just like Monday and Tuesday with the exception that we do not stop. The show runs without interruptions like we are going to perform it. This will likely be the first complete performance. It will also be the only time we perform it this way without an audience. After going through the show we will probably be finished a little early, which means we will go over some rough patches. I will be home and in bed close to 11:00 p.m.

Thursday

Opening Night!

But first, another complete day of work. This one starts thirty minutes earlier than any other day. I will be exhausted. I might cry.

The show starts at 7:30, but cast and crew shows up at 6:00. We spend the time getting into our costumes, getting microphones on and checked, making sure props and set pieces are where they are supposed to be. Then we will try and get into character and wait for the show to start. Two and a half hours after the show starts we will be finished. We'll spend some time greeting the audience before heading downstairs to change out of our costumes, reset props and set pieces and leave the theatre.

There will likely be a gathering after the show. Being Thursday, I'll say the cast goes to Buffalo Wild Wings (now I'm just predicting the future). There's a large chance that I'll excuse myself in favor of going home and sleeping, but I'll likely get talked into going along. I'll hit bed around midnight.

Friday

Last day of work for the week! That will lift my spirits and help me muddle through. The day will run fairly identical to Friday after that. There will definitely be a cast gathering after the performance as most people will not have to work on Saturday. This time we will go to Applebee's. I'm not a huge fan of the chain restaurant so I politely excuse myself and go home to get some rest.

Saturday

A chance to sleep in. If the weather is good I'll rake the back yard which is desperately in need of it after snow brought down all the leaves off of the trees.

1:00--Arrive at the Orpheum to prepare for the Saturday matinee. Show starts at 2:30. We'll be done by 5:00. My children will be at this show so I will talk to them afterwards. There will be much excited family times. I will drive them home and immediately turn around to go back to the theatre for the evening show.

This time the cast will opt to go to Depot Grill. It will be a smaller cast party because everyone is getting exhausted.

Sunday

No time to sleep in, because I will need to go to Church with my family. I will present a lesson on Christmas to a small group of 5 year old children. I'll end church in time to go home and grab lunch before heading to the theatre for the final show.

Four hours later I'll be done with performances, but we will still have Strike. Fortunately, there are no built set pieces so we won't have to dissemble anything. Mostly, it will be collecting the prop and costume pieces that belong to each of us. The company putting on the show owns the theatre and this is (I believe) the last show of the year. That means no pressure to get things out so the next group can get in. With all hands on deck I believe that Strike will take less than an hour. That puts me home in time for dinner with a few hours left of the day to put in my weekly blog before going to bed.

Summary

As I look back, most days there isn't much happening. It's just the same two things over and over again. Work and show, work and show. However, it adds up to very little free time. Here's to Tech Week! Sometimes it is nice to have no time.

Note: I've received notice that the weather is turning bad. That likely means no raking on Saturday. It also increases the chance of no work due to poor road conditions. That could be a blessing. All other predictions stand.

Sunday posts

I think that the best time for me to post will be on Sunday. I have a lot of free time and it will be much like writing a letter. An open letter. Just like all the open letters that have been posted on Facebook.

Oh dear...

I guess I'll just have to live with that. <--That sentence used to start and end with the words "I guess". That's why we edit after we write! What it really comes down to is that I'm trying to keep my writing habit alive, but don't want to work on Sunday. That means no working on potentially publishable materials. However, writing for my friends and family would be acceptable. Plus, it allows me a goal of one blog entry every week. I'll draft the post early on Sunday and then I'll edit it before bed. That probably means that if you're following this you shouldn't look for the new posts until Monday morning.

This gives me practice editing and allows me to maintain my writing habit. Win/win!

So, here's the thing: I spent the last week updating my blog pages to account for my three new WIP. I haven't completely abandoned my old WIP, but they are all on the back burner until a later time. Those pages have not been updated, yet.

I think three is a reasonable number of projects to try juggling and they'll break down like this:

One Novel
One Stage Play
One Collaborative Project

I think this will keep me incredibly busy without giving myself too much work. Here's the problem: I've got a lot that I want to write. I mean a lot. Inspiration struck near the end of NaNo and I know have another novel that I want to be writing. I mean, I really, really, really want to be writing this novel. That's how excited I am about the premise (sorry, no spoilers). However, I have this sinking feeling that if I walk away from A Name Among Names before the first draft is finished that it will never get finished. That means I really need to focus on finishing that project even if I am a little less excited about it. I don't want to be in the habit of leaving projects unfinished.

Stage plays? I have Speakeasy well under way, but I also have at least two three other stage plays that spring to mind when I think about potential projects. All three of them get me incredibly excited and I can see actors on stage, sets in my mind, lighting...the visions are dying to get out.

The collaborative project is the one saving grace. I don't have a lot of people beating down my door to collaborate with me. This project can take as much time as it needs and I reasonably expect it to take years. Having an eye on the long-term can be so helpful for pacing.

There we go. That's what my life looks like. These are the projects that I hope will make me truly independent for employment. The projects that will allow me to sell some works, get an agent, and beginning living off of my own creativity, which I've wanted to do for most of my life.

Two Years Already?

I mean, I know it has been a while since I blogged but that really caught me by surprise. I had forgotten most of the renovations I had made on the blog and now most of them are out of date. I'll have to work on fixing that. Just one more goal to throw onto the pile.

Let's start with this: Why am I back at the blog after two years? Well, why do I ever keep coming back. It popped into my head and I decided to roll with it. However, the bigger reason is that I just finished NaNoWriMo successfully for the first time since trying it back in 2009. Granted, I had more time than I usually do, but a success is a success.

Now I want to keep it rolling. I've got a lot of writing projects going and it is time to finish them. Then publish them. Then start some new ones. And I want to talk about these things. And complain a little about the problem of having so many things that I want to write and not knowing where to start.

So that's what I'm going to do. I am going to keep writing. I am going to take control of a life that seems out of control. I am going to update this page and keep it updated. And hopefully soon people would be looking for this page because they read my novel and they want to know a little bit more about me and what's going on. They want to know when the next book will be. So, maybe this time will be the time.

Road Tripping

"Please don't put doughnut in your ears!"

This week I had it in mind to write a blog about love. In fact, I had gone so far as to begin composing it in my head. It was going to be great. And then I went on a road trip this weekend. So, I decided to blog about the road trip instead. For pictures to accompany the narrative go here.

The impetus: The Lego company held a Grand Opening for their Murray, UT store.

Aiding factor: The girls' had no school on Thursday and Friday.

With the stage thus set I found little reason not to cancel classes on Friday and hightail it out of town. I evenly blatantly told my students why I wasn't going to class. They seemed highly amused; some even asked me about it today. Pre-road trip preparations involved a trip to the library for music (nothing worth mentioning...I know disappointing), and Trina doing most of the packing. She's a trooper.

6:20 a.m. Friday morning. I wake up, shower, and pack the rest of the gear needed for the weekend in the car. Miraculously, Anna is already awake and gets dressed. The other children complain little. Amazingly, we are packed up and...

7:00 a.m. ...actually leave on schedule. The drive goes well. We eat breakfast in the car. Two stops and almost four hours later we stop at the Lego Store. Originally our plan was to drive straight to Provo, visit people there, and return to the grand opening festivities on Saturday. However, we have time so we stop.

10:50 a.m. We arrive at the Lego Store at the Fashion Place Mall. The wait to get in the store is an hour and a half, more time than we have at the moment, but there is no line to help build the 8-foot Hulk sculpture so we help create a line.

11:00 a.m. The build officially begins. The children and I each build a block that is a 4:1 scale larger than a traditional 2x4 brick. We throw these in a pile with other finished bricks and get our certificates for helping out. Mine will join my Lego diplomas on my office wall. We look at the store, but don't go inside.

12:00 p.m. Arrive at Grandma's house; lunch at a pizza buffet. Yum!

2:30 p.m. We visit our long-time friends and allow our children to play. They've known each other since birth. Best friends since diapers.

5:00 p.m. Arrive at my brother Mike's apartment. We grab him, my oldest brother (James), plus my only nephews on this side of the family and head to dinner. We also bring along Trina's cousin Jenna. The location: our favorite Chinese restaurant in Provo, The Lotus Garden. Dinner is fantastic. The conversation is great. A good time is had by some.

7:30 p.m. Return to my brother's place and play a game of Fluxx while the children play Uno.

8:30 p.m. Return to Grandma's to put the children to bed. I also catch the end of the BYU football game. A full day, but a fun one.

9:30 p.m. I go to bed early for good reason, but I don't sleep well.

Saturday

5:00 a.m. After a night of tossing and turning I get up, get dressed, and drive back to the Lego Store. They've implemented a ticket system to keep the store from being over-crowded.

6:00 a.m. After briefly waiting in line behind twenty or so other early risers (and their kids!) I got tickets for my family to enter the Lego store with the first group when it opens.

9:30 a.m. The entire family arrives at the Lego Store where we wait for 30 minutes until the store opens. The children are remarkably good natured about the wait.

10:00 a.m. We are let in the store. It's chaos. Even with limiting the number of people in the store it is still crowded. Trina is a champ and controls all the children at the "Build a Mini" station while I do my shopping. It's so crowded I don't feel comfortable browsing. I spot what I want and grab it off the shelves making my shopping short and sweet. The only exception to the "no browsing" was the longing looks that I cast at the Winter Market Village. My early morning adventure means that we are in time to earn a free Exclusive Lego set. It's a mini model of the store. Anna loves it.

11:00 a.m. An IKEA trip. This is the part of the trip that is for Trina. The children get happily dropped off at the playland; Trina and I shop happily by ourselves.

12:00 p.m. Lunch at my sister's.

1:30 p.m. Family trip to the zoo including almost all my siblings (sorry Emma!) and all my parent's grandchildren. It's one of the rare time all the cousins are together. I enjoyed the Polar Bear. He was putting on a show.


5:30 p.m. Return for dinner. Pasta and salad!

7:00 p.m. Put on "Night at the Museum". It's the first time I've actually seen the entire movie. My wife and I enjoy our favorite Ben and Jerry's Flavor that we can't get at home: Peanut Butter World.

9:00 p.m. Bedtime for the children. The end of another non-stop day.

Sunday

7:30 a.m. Trina and I wake up at approximately the same time to find Anna watching us while she rocks in the rocking chair. Creepy.

12:00 p.m. Lunch before loading up the car and the kids to go home. They cry. They really enjoy being with their cousins. Fortunately, no plans on Sunday and they had the entire morning to play with each other. It's a sad departure.

1:00 p.m. Arrive at the Lego Store for the third and final day of the Grand Opening celebration. Mostly, I just want to see the finished giant Hulk sculpture. It's not finished. I make it back into the store for some last minute shopping. I'm still early enough to get a free Limited Edition minifig set. It contains a race car mechanic, a cook, and a computer guy who looks just like me. It's serendipity.

2:00 p.m. We held build the hulk sculpture again before leaving for home. It's still not finished at that point, but we can delay no longer.

4:30 p.m. After our last stop to get gas Sam received a doughnut. In true Sam fashion he ate his fill and then crumbled the rest in his seat. A short while later I see him in the rear view mirror putting doughnut crumbs in his ears leading to the exclamation that started the blog.

6:00 p.m. We arrive home, unpack, make dinner, and crack into our Lego sets. Successful trip.

I Hate Facebook

Let me get straight to the point. I don't really enjoy social networks. Mostly, it's me, but some of it is social networks in general. Here are the reasons why:

1. They don't actually make me more social. The things I want to say don't fit into the terse format expected of tweets and status updates. This means I rarely update my status. That's part of the reason I'm blogging. I like to take the time to express my thoughts. Given the chance I'll prattle on and on and you get the idea. Well does my wife understand this. She puts up with a lot of postulating and expounding. Now that you're reading my blog so do you. Congratulations or condolences, whichever is appropriate.

2. Seeing what people are doing doesn't make me feel like I'm a part of their lives. In fact, it does the exact opposite. It makes me feel like I'm not apart of their life. Here's all the fun stuff they are doing without me. I'm glad when things are going well for my facebook friends, but it accentuates how little they are doing with me. The only exception to this is when people tag me in their posts, because they are sharing something that made them think of me specifically. Even so, part of me misses the joy of sharing those moments together. I like gathering with my friends and seeing the look on their faces as I share humorous quotes, movies, or pictures. It's so much more satisfying than a "Like" and generally more sincere.

3. I just don't care about selfies. There are so many pictures taken now that cameras are everywhere. Way too many are self portraits. They are definitely not "Kodak Moments", but just an obnoxious desire to document our faces. Social networks aren't making people social; they are exacerbating our narcisstic tendencies in a bad way.

4. I want to talk to you. I don't find interacting with people through status updates and comment sections engaging. It takes too long. I want to talk to my friends. Most of the interaction I have on Facebook is through the chat feature. I often wonder if the chat feature on Facebook is under-utilized. It's one of the better ways on the site to actually be social. And, you don't have to put your conversation out there for the entire world to see. I'm not saying you have anything to hide, but I don't publish my phone conversations. If you ever see that I'm online, feel free to say hi via chat. It's what I'm there for.

5. It is time-consuming. I spend too much time on Facebook finding out what is going on with people I care less about. It needed to be said. I don't care about most of the people I'm friends with, and my friend list is actually fairly small. Honestly, the people who know what's going on in my life don't find out through Facebook. They get it direct from the source: me. I prefer my friends to do the same. My personal opinion is that, by and large, Facebook and other social networks are for secondary friends. The people who care about you the most don't let you find out about their wedding, baby, graduation, etc. via Facebook. You hear it from them first-hand. Facebook is for everyone else. So why am I spending time on relationships with "everyone else" when I would rather strengthen those small key relationships.

6. SPAM. For a long time people would complain about forwards and junk e-mail filling their inboxes. We still have the exam same content, but now it is being passed around endlessly on Facebook. What we didn't want to put up with in our inboxes we readily accept in our timelines. It's a travesty. Plus, amidst the spam we have an endless supply of game invites and diatribes. Why do we bother?

I'm sure there are other reasons that I'm not thinking of, but they don't come to mind. Do I think Facebook is bad? Not as a tool. I think the real problem is in how we use it. We are trying to be too connected to too many people and it is having a negative impact. It has gotten to the point where not engaging this lesser form of sociality has created negative impacts on esteem. Crazy. I'm about ready to deactivate my account.

Musical Theater

As long as I can remember I've enjoyed being on stage. When I was about 7 years old I played a tree sprite in a school play. The older class performed a humorous version of of Robin Hood. I was jealous of the older kids, including my brother, who actually were allowed speaking parts. There were no speaking parts for kids my age, but I (perhaps naively) believed that I could perform admirably.

Likewise, in sixth grade my class planned sketches for a school assembly. I had big ideas and imagined myself decked out in a harness and wires and being lowered onto the stage as Ra the sun god. The teacher decided not to use my ideas and our sketch ended up being something much less technically challenging. And much less memorable as evidenced by the fact that I don't remember what we ended up doing.

Years later I auditioned for the high school performing arts program; I got in during my first audition. They complimented my accent and my waltz. I spent the next four years in the program. I wasn't the only freshman to find space in the program, but there weren't many of us.

The program's standard routine was a song and dance show in the fall, a musical in the spring. We also added to the school choir for various events. Realistically, we were a musical theater program. We sang, we danced, we acted. We never did Shakespeare. My fit in this group was based solely on whatever acting merit I had, because I had no talents for song or dance (despite compliments of my waltz). I think the major strength of my acting lay in my ability to memorize. I had little trouble in learning my dialogue quickly and precisely.

Anyway, there were no auditions for the fall show. As a group we would find musical numbers to fit our theme, small sketches to connect them , and then divide out the work between us. We would choreograph them ourselves and I was never required to learn more than a few simple steps.

The fall shows required auditions. Everyone auditioned and then the teachers assigned roles to everyone. I don't remember what parts I auditioned for, except for my first year. It doesn't matter though because I rarely (possibly never) got the parts for which I auditioned. Freshman year we did the show "Crazy For You". I auditioned for the part of Bela Zangler; I got the role of Sam the Cowboy. The rest of the shows were as follows:

Sophomore: Guys & Dolls--Joey Biltmore
Junior: Oklahoma--Guy named Mike who previously bought a sweet-potato pie.
Senior: Anything Goes--The Porter

My senior year I also did work as a student director/producer. It was fun, but then I went off to college. I kept intending to audition for shows, but never found the time. In my mind I directed and performed versions of "12 Angry Men" with my friends or put on "The Fantastiks". It never happened. High school seemed the end of my scripted acting career. Musical theater abruptly stopped being a part of my life.

Eventually I replaced scripted theater with improvisational comedy and continued that for eight years. It was four years since high school, but I was back on stage. Performing without a script thrilled me. There was occasionally music too. It was great to do something I loved. However, I moved and my group didn't. I tried forming a new group, but it hasn't stuck yet.

So what's my point? I've been missing the stage for the past few years. I miss rehearsals, ad-libs, costumes. I want back on stage. A month ago I grabbed the season brochure for the local "Arts on Tour". Not only have I not been performing, I haven't been attending theater either. I was hoping to see something to entice me to buy season tickets. I keep meaning too. At the back of the booklet was an advertisement for "Spamalot". I got excited! I have wanted to see Spamalot for quite some time, and here it was being done local. I'm thrilled.

Then I did some more looking. The tickets were going on sale mid-September, but the show didn't open until late January. I went to the theater group's webpage to find out more details where I happily discovered that they hadn't even cast the show yet. In fact, they were planning three workshops before auditions and they hadn't even done the first workshop. Wheels in my head started turning. I fantasized about being on stage again. I broached the subject to my wife, explaining my thought processes; this involved worries about how much time it would take and what I would have to give up in order to do Spamalot. Without hesitation she told me that if this was something I wanted to do she would support me all the way and make it work. My wife is awesome! We both know she'll be the one sacrificing for this.

Flash forward a month. I've attended two workshops, bought the soundtrack, listened to it endlessly, started going through the script. Auditions aren't until Oct. 12th, but I'm trying to get ready now. I want to be in this, and I want to be in this big. My biggest weakness is that I can't sing and Spamalot is a musical. True, it's Monty Python so the singing doesn't have to be fantastic, but it has to be passable and I'm not sure I'm even that good. So I've been singing in the car, in my office, on the walk to work. I've been singing endlessly. I've checked out several books on singing technique. I'm working on this all the time. There's not much time, but any improvement will be good.

I thought I was making progress, until this last week when I recorded myself. Needless to say, everything was bad. Not just the singing, the acting as well. And I realized it was because I was trying. I was trying to sound like the man from the soundtrack and it wasn't working. I was "acting" and it was obvious. So I've got about three weeks to stop acting and remember how to have fun. To relax and just let it happen. And I need to remind myself that I used to sing on stage all the time with improv; this isn't unfamiliar territory. I can do this.

So this is what is about to take up a major portion of my life. Be on the lookout for how well I did after the auditions.

Also, check this out:

Family Togetherness

This is a list of things I think every family should own to encourage togetherness. I'll admit "every" family is a bit of a stretch, but if something on this list isn't right for yours it still might inspire you. The focus of this list is minimizing technology use. I'm not anti-technology. There are some great technological advances to bring families together. However, a lot of technology in the home discourages interaction. This list is meant to counter that trend. Being together is worth little if you're not interacting. With that caveat, in no particular order...

1. A large blanket you don't mind taking outdoors.



Rationale: An essential for 4th of July, summer concert series, and picnics. It can also be used in winter for cuddling under as a family while you watch a movie. If large enough it can be used for forts and tents large enough to fit the kids and the grown-up kids.

How I'm doing: My wife is a regular quilter. We have a plethora of blankets, several of which were intended for outdoor family occasions and they get plenty of use.

2. A picnic basket.



Rationale: Family picnics, obviously. Insulate it with a towel to keep foods warm for short periods of time. Otherwise, a basket can also pack non-food material for short family outings. And a basket with a lid can be used for surprises that you don't want to wrap, but still want to reveal dramatically. Like puppies.

How I'm doing: Despite the excess of blankets, my family is sadly lacking on picnic baskets. We have a few baskets that we use for Easter, but no lidded baskets. I hope to make this a new acquisition soon and will be scouring thrift stores for good candidates. No need to spend more money than necessary.

3. A board game that takes at least an hour to play.



Rationale: The trend today seems to be games that are quick. It's like people want to minimize family interaction. For younger children, those quick games are perfect. For older children longer games are more suitable as long as you make the time for them. Bonus: Games often teach strategy, problem solving, and important social lessons about winning and losing. If a board game isn't an option a deck of cards or two is a great alternative.

How I'm doing:I have a closet full of board games as well as a second box of games stored in my walk-in closet. I also have three decks of cards with identical backs (for larger card games), a pinochle deck, and a box of dominoes. Oh, every family needs dominoes.

4. A library card.



Rationale: A library card is the key to a good family outing. It teaches children that books are important. Oftentimes libraries also have art and exhibits. Finally, a large number of libraries (but by no means all) are built next to city parks. This can combine an educational trip with a play trip.

How I'm doing:A library card was one of the first things I got when I moved. I always have one. So does my wife. Now my oldest daughter has one too. Check.

5. A book you are reading together.



Rationale: This is really an off-shoot of the library card. It encourages literacy. It can make great discussion material for around the dinner table. Children will learn to use their imaginations. Adults will get a chance to share their favorites with their children while reliving them. Plus, you might find a new favorite. Don't just read it though. Anticipate what's going to happen next, ask younger children to summarize previous chapters, act out your favorite parts.

How I'm doing: Trina and I have often discussed reading a book as a family. We did it regularly when we were dating, but it died off when we married and had kids. We still read books to the children at night, but not a family book. This week I started to remedy that with "The BFG" by Roald Dahl. We'll see how long it lasts. The children seem to loving it though. Ask them about whizpopping.

6. Decent collection of cookie cutters.



Rationale: To be fair, Trina looked at me funny when I included this one. However, family cookie making is a classic especially at Christmas time. A decent set will have you making cookies at birthdays, Easter, Valentine's, etc. Plus, cookie cutters can be used to trace shapes and can be used with play-doh. And getting children into the kitchen will be cheaper (and tastier) than those store bought cookies.

How I'm doing: We bought a big set of cookie cutters several years ago. Not all of them are great, but they have served us well. We've added a few to the collections since then. When at our favorite kitchen supply store we sometimes look at their selection. We haven't purchased any cookie cutters from them...yet.

7. Play-doh



Rationale: Play-doh inspires creativity. You build, you design, you play. Have theme nights where all family members create something (like animals). Reenact scenes from stories. Create caricatures of the family. Remember, play-doh will not last forever no matter how well you care for it. Plus, it's fairly inexpensive. Let people mix colors. Don't plan on all the play-doh ending up back in the canisters. Build models that you expect to dry out and put on the shelves for a week or two. Make the things you see on the boxes instead of just rolling it out and balling it up endlessly.

How I'm doing:We have a few small canisters of play-doh, but we haven't sat down for some dedicated family building. Maybe next week.

8. Art supplies including Construction Paper, Pipe Cleaners, Sidewalk Chalk, Pens, Pencils, Crayons, Marker, Paint, etc.



Rationale: Art projects indoors and outdoors. Decorate your house, do puppet shows, make gifts, build toys. Really, this one deserves it's own blog written by my wife. Best bet, buy the art supplies at the beginning of the school year when they are at their cheapest. Doing art with the children makes it more likely the supplies will be taken care of and last for a long time. Plus you get to nurture your own latent (or not so latent) talent.

How I'm doing: My house is filled with art supplies of various types. We just need to be better about using them as a family. Too often I send the kids to be artsy by themselves instead of joining them in their artistry.

9. A little red wagon.



Rationale: Holding personal items (or children) on trips to the zoo, picnics, etc. It can also be used to do service projects as a family around the neighborhood.

How I'm doing: This was one of the first big "toy" purchases I made after the birth of my oldest daughter. I selected a wooden red wagon that I love. I haven't taken as good care of it recently as I used to. Some of the brackets need replaced and parts need a paint job, but it still functions. And I love it. It worked great at our recent zoo trip.

10. Sleds

Rationale: It's like a wagon, except for winter. Family time fun when the weather changes.

How I'm doing: I've had several sleds in the past, but moves with an uncertain future led to sleds being donated to friends. Currently, we are living without, but winter is approaching and maybe that will change. My kids are getting old enough to really enjoy them. Bring on the cold and cocoa.

11. Popcorn Maker/Ice Cream Maker



Rationale: I guess this brings it back to technology, but having food that you made together while you have a family night can just make things better than ever. Plus, it gives you an excuse to use that blanket I mentioned at the beginning.

How I'm doing: I own two ice cream makers (a small and a large). For my birthday about a year ago I got a hot-air popcorn popper. I love it and use it all the time. You can make microwave popcorn, but this is so much better.

I know this list isn't complete. I figure I will expand it in the future as things pop into my head, and I'd love your input.

Censorship

Recently I watched three movies where the use of foul or crude language was inexcusable. Generally, the word that caused offense in these three movies was the f-bomb. I wish I could tell you that I turned off the movies instead of exposing myself to the language, but I only ended one of the movies prematurely. In that one the language bothered me and the movie bored me. A double whammy that that couldn't be forgiven or tolerated any longer. Now, I'm not going to mention which movies because I don't want the post to be about the movies. I want it to be about the language.

You see, I believe in censorship. Not government or organizational censorship, but a conscientious personal censorship. There are certain words that should not be said. We should choose not to say them. No one should force us not to say them, but as individuals we should choose to use better language. Why? Because we are part of a society and we have the desire to be considerate to those around us. Just because we have "free speech" does not mean we should feel free to say whatever we want. Words have consequences and we should consider the impact of those words on the people around us.

I have heard the argument that the use of coarse or vulgar language makes characters more realistic. Related to this is the premise that vulgar language is used in movies because movies reflect reality. The argument is flawed. Anyone who watches movies can tell they don't reflect reality. If life was like the movies the world would be a different place. This is why we have a phrase like "willing suspension of disbelief" (WSOD). Abandoning vulgar language might make characters less realistic, but application of WSOD suggests that in most cases people will be able to deal with it. So the gangster didn't drop a blue streak when he started shooting. Most people will be able to accept that. Besides, I've never associated the ability to swear as a sign of depth of character and so characters probably won't suffer for lack of four-letter words.

Another concern of mine is that movies don't reflect life, they exaggerate it. That's right! Movies exaggerate life. They take the real world and make characters more stereotypical, fights more action-packed, romances more romantic, and curse words more prolific. In this way movies can concentrate their message. The sad thing is that it doesn't end with movies exaggerating life. Life than proceeds to mimic the movies. People model their behavior on peers and popular media. As people mimic movies their languages deteriorates to reflect the model. The norm shifts. Movies exaggerate the new norm. Life mimics. The norm shifts. A cycle is created that causes the decline of everyday language. Vulgar language becomes more prevalent and acceptable.

I also believe that casually dropping vulgar language as an adjective, verb, noun or exclamation is lazy writing. A person who can't stop using vulgar language in every day speech appears illiterate (even if they graduated from Harvard). In the same way, writing inundated with four-letter words appears sophomoric. It does not take a lot of creativity to use vulgar language (ok...sometimes it does, but most people are far from creative with it's use). Cole Porter was insightful with his lyrics "Good authors, too, who once knew better words now only use four-letter words writing prose...Anything Goes." That's sad.

Some writers seem to select a vulgar word as a go to choice, inserting it randomly into sentences to give them "flavor" or "honesty". Let me tell you about "flavor". The more you are exposed to a flavor the less strength it has. The end of a lollipop is the least flavorful. Chewing gum's flavor is strongest on the first chew. A steak's flavor diminishes with each meaty bite. It's just the way the senses work. In the same way, vulgar languages loses its power the more it is used. People who are using vulgar language for flavor or honest should discourage its use. That means each individual use will have more impact. It will do the job even better. Vulgar language is more effective when it's scarce.

Because that's the thing, a lot of four-letter words (I'm thinking of one in particular) have lost meaning, because they are used indiscrimanitely to describe anything and everything. Too many connotations and a word is essentially junk. Vulgar words are falling into the literary company of words like "very", "stuff", and "things" and should be edited out in a similar fashion.

This would be a great point in the blog to drop a blue streak to make my point about impact, but I won't. Why? It would undermine the rest of my message.

The question to ask yourself is "Would removing the questionable language change the meaning of the sentence?" If not, let it go. it's not needed. If removing the language would change the meaning of the sentence then let it go, but replace it with a more descriptive word that restores the meaning. Writers might be forced to find adjectives that actually have dictionary definitions or strong nouns. They'll be on a search for Porter's "better words". It can only help their writing. A good vocabulary is essential for any writer, including the four-letter words.

And that's all I have to say on the topic. If you have a comment make sure it's profanity free. After all, the profanity laden rebuttal is obvious and immature. And it will just get deleted.