Zona

We have a mouse in the house. Down in the basement storage room. I want it's ass dead. I'm on it. We enemies and since it can't set no trap for me.....

UPDATE: Mouse ??/??/??-10/18/10. I hope there's lots of cheese in mouse heaven.

I love my daughters, but I envy my sons.

I look at them and see what they're doing at this stage of their lives and I envy them.

One is 25. I told him that I thought he was farther along than I was at 25 and he mentioned that I was married at 25 and waiting for the birth of my first child.

But then I mentioned that I was living in the third world and broke without a clue of what I would do. He, I told him, was living two blocks from the beach in Vancouver, BC. He learned to play the drums and had recorded with two bands albeit the recording were not heard by many people. He toured Canada and Japan with one band. I dreamt of those kinda things. He's doing it.

He has a decent job, an awesome apartment, and a girl who adores him. I had the third of those.

The other is 19. He's in college full time and has a nice ride at his disposal. He wants to be a chef and he works hard in the culinary program at Utah Valley University. He's had jobs and saved up for the cool electronic games. he bought his knives and uniforms and has brought home breads and a pie which he made and they were all fabulous. He fell just short of a goal he had to make a touring culinary team but I'm am very proud of him.

At 19 I was going nowhere and decided to do a two-year Mormon Mission. That was no small feat mind you but it did not require what university does.

I don't think any father is perfect and I have many regrets of little things I did or didn't do when raising them. I wish I could go back and hug the little guys more and maybe say, "yeah, you can have that". But I can't.

We all wish we could go back 10, or 20, or even 30 years knowing what we know now. I kinda did that through my sons sometimes. I told them that girls were not to be feared. I told them to always tell a girl how they felt when they had strong feelings and if they got rejected, or laughed at, to shrug and move on knowing what happened instead of later wondering what would have happened. And they did.

I'm proud of both of them and I envy them.

But in my envy I see two young men who are where they are because of where I took them, where I lead them, what I was able to provide for them, and show them, and teach them. (along with their mother of course)

And I realize that I did okay.

Every night lately I've been having vivid dreams which I remember. Dreams I used to forget. Lucid random electronic synapses that the brain uses to entertain itself during sleep. These dreams are the usual off kilter activities. Things that should work either don't work or work abnormally. Maybe it's my subconscious telling me, warning me, that I should be more wary of stress I'm repressing. Or here's a thought I just came up with. Maybe these dreams are doing to my brain what tears do through my eyes. Maybe they're leaching toxins from my soul.

As I write this, the memories of these dreams are fading into blank.

I sit here in the dark on my sofa. I should be asleep but I'm exhilarated to be draining thought. Like standing and throwing my arms upward and back. Tossing away thought that should concern me. Everyday worry that will be back in the morning, but not right now. Now is my time to show brash bravado. To dare a world I know won't answer right now, but later will come down like a thumb.

The best of my plans fall short lately. I'm in a hurry to get there like a child. But there's no there out there anymore. I want to run off to see friends, female friends, but the plan in my mind, the daydream, are laid to waste whenever I get close. Some beckon and call but we seem to live in opaque bubbles and though are bubbles my come close or even bump into each other, we remain unable to see and isolated.

Why can't people see what I see? Why can't they trust what I trust? I've had two people tell me others told them. So I cut loose and shake my head. Focus on what you see, not what you fear.

I just had a ghost brush by and turn around. It's still here but they never show themselves to me. They just let me feel they're there. Now it's gone.

Be patient, I'll get there. It just might take a little longer now. And for those who passed me by, you're at the back of the line again. I've always had this fault, this flaw, where people are more important to me than I am to them. That's okay though. I'm a forgiving sort.

Maybe because it's not that big a deal to worry myself with.

I am off on Saturdays so I told Maggie to get some Conference tickets for the 2PM session. She scored a pair from the bishop. I knew the weather was going to be great so I figured we'd picnic "old school" in Temple Square while listening to the early session.

We got to Temple Square about 9:30. Maggie noticed that the grass was kinda damp so we sat on a bench. We were soon approached by a pair of sister missionaries. They were after referrals. So Conference starts and we move to a dry spot on the lawn between the Tabernacle and the Meeting House where we can hear better.

I've been around a couple of times to take photos of the sideshow of street preachers outside but now I have my zoom lens on and am shooting kids. Maggie is enjoying watching a couple of toddlers while we listen to Conference. Two more sisters come up to chat us up and try for some referrals. About 30 minutes later two more.

So we haven't heard too much of the first session but that's no big deal. Maggie can watch the rerun later. What we have determined by this point though, is that we are too old and creaky to be sitting on the ground. We move to another bench in the shade.

I make another photo run and when I come back, Maggie's holding a baby. Maggie has found a girl from our ward in Vancouver and the two are talking. She leaves to find her other friends so Maggie and I eat our sammiches and tater salad. Soon enough it's our turn to go into the Conference Center.

I am telling you, this place is impressive. It's immaculate inside. We find seats and the choir walks in and goes through it's warm-up. I am totally stoked because there ARE NO small children allowed in and I don't have to worry about a concert malady of people holding up cell phone cameras in front of me, or singing bad, or tapping my seat out of time. I see old folks who probably saw David O McCay speak in the Tabernacle, and I see young couples. Some camera flashes are going off, and some people are talking on cell phones, oh, and I see a girl with her top cut kinda low. Not too low mind you, but just low enough so that I can see the top of the tattoo on her left breast. I look down and see that she has her entire left arm outlined for the complete sleeve job. This girl doesn't look ANYTHING like the kind of girl that would have these types of tattoos.

Ah youth.

The people sitting next to us ask if we wouldn't mind switching seats with their branch president. So we end up on the main floor. People rise as some of the Apostles walk in and take their seats. I see something that ALWAYS make me laugh. An idiot is on a cell phone and waiving her hand. "look, I'm waving now, see me? down HERE". Then there are three more waving. Morons! I look where the General Authorities are seated and Elders Packer and Perry are TEXTING on their Blackberries. SO cool.

Now EVERYBODY rises as President Monson enters with his counsellors and they take their seats.

Conference begins and I am disappointed to find out the choir I assumed was the Tabernacle Choir, isn't. It's a family choir from Sandy and Draper, but let me tell you, they were wonderful. I voted to sustain everybody and thank some people. There are a couple of "are you kidding me?" moments as I see camera flashes during the session. I will admit to two "I woke up when my head nodded" moments. I felt bad for the two 10 year-old girls seated in front of me who were completely bored.

The session ends and we head out. There are 25,000 people moving on sidewalks outside and some idiots STILL decide to stop and chat, blocking half the sidewalk. ARRRRGH! We go back into Temple Square to grab the cooler and a backpack with my camera. I HATE crowds and trying to move through/with them and I'm kinda thinking it isn't worth the hassle, but then I see a guy playing a cello as the throng moves by.

I smile, grab my camera, and start shooting. Then I went over and tossed three dollars into the cello case. "Thank you" he says. The song he was playing?

I am a child of God.