This is how my brother-in-law, James, exercises his dogs.
I made this video for him as part of a video interview for his application to appear on American Gladiators. Best of luck to you James!
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Time, time, time
Last year on the evening of my twenty fifth birthday I stood at the edge of a lake in Lethbridge, Alberta with the sun going down behind me and felt a tremendous sense of closure to my old life. I had already lived a whole quarter of a century, I had just graduated from college, it was the last day of our road trip to Canada and we were heading back south the next day. Everything I had looked forward to was over with. And the future more than at any other time in my life was a great unknown.
Today, one year later, it's my birthday again. I am twenty six. In talking to who are the close to the same age I am or a few years older, twenty six is when people start to become more and more surprised at how old they're getting. I've heard younger kids joke (and I've done it, too) about how old they're getting when they turn twenty or twenty one. But they don't fool themselves. They really know that they're still young. But at twenty six you start to get a sense of youth slipping away from you. It becomes stronger and stronger every year. And for a lot of people it's frightening. Time zooms by faster every year with more speed and force, and we feel more and more powerless to slow it down. It will be in a little while that we will be truly old.
From conversations I've listened to amongst people much older than me, this surprise at how old we're becoming never stops.
"I can't believe I'm thirty five already!"
"I can't believe I have a kid in high school already!"
"I can't believe I'm forty already!"
"I can't believe I have a kid in college already!"
"I can't believe my youngest has already graduated high school!"
"I can't believe we're grandparents already!"
Realizing that people are surprised by these things every day makes me determined not to be surprised by them, and by their accompanying sense of oldness. I know we can't stay young forever but we don't have to feel old if we don't want to. Right now, I am in the best physical shape of my life. I eat healthier and run six miles at least three times a week. I feel much more energetic than I did when I was a fast food guzzling twenty two year old. So in a way I feel younger now than I did four years ago.
Apparently I look young, too. A couple of days ago someone my age asked me if I was fresh off my mission. No, I said. It's been five years. But apparently I can still pass for a twenty one year old.
And we can still love birthdays, no matter what number is attached. Rather than seeing a birthday as a harbinger of decrepit old age, it's always a terrific reason to have a party.
Today, one year later, it's my birthday again. I am twenty six. In talking to who are the close to the same age I am or a few years older, twenty six is when people start to become more and more surprised at how old they're getting. I've heard younger kids joke (and I've done it, too) about how old they're getting when they turn twenty or twenty one. But they don't fool themselves. They really know that they're still young. But at twenty six you start to get a sense of youth slipping away from you. It becomes stronger and stronger every year. And for a lot of people it's frightening. Time zooms by faster every year with more speed and force, and we feel more and more powerless to slow it down. It will be in a little while that we will be truly old.
From conversations I've listened to amongst people much older than me, this surprise at how old we're becoming never stops.
"I can't believe I'm thirty five already!"
"I can't believe I have a kid in high school already!"
"I can't believe I'm forty already!"
"I can't believe I have a kid in college already!"
"I can't believe my youngest has already graduated high school!"
"I can't believe we're grandparents already!"
Realizing that people are surprised by these things every day makes me determined not to be surprised by them, and by their accompanying sense of oldness. I know we can't stay young forever but we don't have to feel old if we don't want to. Right now, I am in the best physical shape of my life. I eat healthier and run six miles at least three times a week. I feel much more energetic than I did when I was a fast food guzzling twenty two year old. So in a way I feel younger now than I did four years ago.
Apparently I look young, too. A couple of days ago someone my age asked me if I was fresh off my mission. No, I said. It's been five years. But apparently I can still pass for a twenty one year old.
And we can still love birthdays, no matter what number is attached. Rather than seeing a birthday as a harbinger of decrepit old age, it's always a terrific reason to have a party.
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Hero of Our Time
I've been looking forward to writing this post for a long time.
No matter what any one says, movies really do have the power to influence us for good or for evil. "The Matrix" influenced many an awkward teenager to dress in black and look like Keanu Reeves (Keanu Reeves is not the Hero referred to in the title of this post). "Rocky" inspires every one who stands on the steps of the Philadelphia Museum of Art to run up and throw a few punches into the air, even if they only saw "Rocky" once when they were five years old (as much as I would like it to be, the Hero I mentioned isn't Rocky Balboa, sorry Rock, next time). "The Lord of the Rings" movies to this day inspire legions of people to dress up as wizards and hobbits (I'm talking about a Hero of our time, not the third age of Middle Earth). "Top Gun" inspired a whole generation of impressionable young men, who wouldn't be caught dead in a hobbit costume, to become Navy fighter pilots (Tom Cruise, Val Kilmer, sorry boys you're not the heroes I'm talking about either).
But through out my life no movie or Hollywood star has been more a constant mentor to me, and as good a friend, as Will Smith.
When I was thirteen years old, I found myself in the middle of the target audience of "Independence Day." I saw it opening day with my friends Mike and Jordan (this is the same Mike I went to the midnight showing of Indy 4 with twelve years later). We went to the largest and best theater we could get to at the time: Tigard Cinema. When we arrived it was already crowded so we had to sit down in the first few rows. These turned out to be ideal seats for the scenes when the gigantic alien spaceships show up. Like those poor people in the movie we just looked straight up at them, the edges of the ships spreading out past our peripheral vision. And when they started blowing everything up, the gigantic fireballs surrounded us.
And then Will Smith came and took down one of the little alien space ships, which is more than any one else could have done. Then he opened up the little alien spaceship, and an alien reared its nasty head through the smoke. A woman off to my right screamed. Then Will Smith gave the alien a right hook and said: "welcome to earth!" The audience cheered and applauded. It was awesome.
Will Smith taught me how to fight aliens that day. What other lesson does a thirteen year old boy want to learn? To attract girls, maybe? No. For the type of kid that I was, fighting aliens seemed much more important, and more probable, at the time. That's how pitiful I was.
Will Smith taught me how to fight aliens again a couple of summers later in "Men in Black," but he taught me how to look good while doing it.
It wasn't until a movie called "The Legend of Bagger Vance" came out that Will Smith fully embodied his role as a mentor, by coming out of the mist and teaching Matt Damon (and us) about golf and the mysteries of life.
In "I, Robot" he taught us how to fight robots, just like he did with aliens, only this time he showed us that you can overcome prejudices against robots first, and then fight them. But by the time "I, Robot" came out I wasn't interested in learning how to fight robots and aliens any more. I had grown up and moved on.
Will Smith moved on with me. In his next movie, "Hitch," he stepped back into his mentor role and gave me some much needed tips on how to impress women and dating.
But he didn't stop there. He amazed and educated me yet further in the "Pursuit of Happyness" by teaching me how to jump on the corporate ladder, even when all of life's forces are trying to keep you off of it, just like they're doing to me right now.
Then again, during a lonely time of my life, "I Am Legend" came out and Will Smith showed me how to deal with loneliness by being the last man on earth.
For all of these movies, I would like to shake Will Smith's hand one day and say "thank you," or "thanks, man."
Now after so many life lessons, when a new Will Smith movie comes out I can only ask myself: "what is Will going to teach me this time?" Today a new Will Smith movie is coming out: "Hancock." What can I expect Will Smith to teach me? After watching the trailer
I can't hazard a guess.
No matter what any one says, movies really do have the power to influence us for good or for evil. "The Matrix" influenced many an awkward teenager to dress in black and look like Keanu Reeves (Keanu Reeves is not the Hero referred to in the title of this post). "Rocky" inspires every one who stands on the steps of the Philadelphia Museum of Art to run up and throw a few punches into the air, even if they only saw "Rocky" once when they were five years old (as much as I would like it to be, the Hero I mentioned isn't Rocky Balboa, sorry Rock, next time). "The Lord of the Rings" movies to this day inspire legions of people to dress up as wizards and hobbits (I'm talking about a Hero of our time, not the third age of Middle Earth). "Top Gun" inspired a whole generation of impressionable young men, who wouldn't be caught dead in a hobbit costume, to become Navy fighter pilots (Tom Cruise, Val Kilmer, sorry boys you're not the heroes I'm talking about either).
But through out my life no movie or Hollywood star has been more a constant mentor to me, and as good a friend, as Will Smith.
When I was thirteen years old, I found myself in the middle of the target audience of "Independence Day." I saw it opening day with my friends Mike and Jordan (this is the same Mike I went to the midnight showing of Indy 4 with twelve years later). We went to the largest and best theater we could get to at the time: Tigard Cinema. When we arrived it was already crowded so we had to sit down in the first few rows. These turned out to be ideal seats for the scenes when the gigantic alien spaceships show up. Like those poor people in the movie we just looked straight up at them, the edges of the ships spreading out past our peripheral vision. And when they started blowing everything up, the gigantic fireballs surrounded us.
And then Will Smith came and took down one of the little alien space ships, which is more than any one else could have done. Then he opened up the little alien spaceship, and an alien reared its nasty head through the smoke. A woman off to my right screamed. Then Will Smith gave the alien a right hook and said: "welcome to earth!" The audience cheered and applauded. It was awesome.
Will Smith taught me how to fight aliens that day. What other lesson does a thirteen year old boy want to learn? To attract girls, maybe? No. For the type of kid that I was, fighting aliens seemed much more important, and more probable, at the time. That's how pitiful I was.
Will Smith taught me how to fight aliens again a couple of summers later in "Men in Black," but he taught me how to look good while doing it.
It wasn't until a movie called "The Legend of Bagger Vance" came out that Will Smith fully embodied his role as a mentor, by coming out of the mist and teaching Matt Damon (and us) about golf and the mysteries of life.
In "I, Robot" he taught us how to fight robots, just like he did with aliens, only this time he showed us that you can overcome prejudices against robots first, and then fight them. But by the time "I, Robot" came out I wasn't interested in learning how to fight robots and aliens any more. I had grown up and moved on.
Will Smith moved on with me. In his next movie, "Hitch," he stepped back into his mentor role and gave me some much needed tips on how to impress women and dating.
But he didn't stop there. He amazed and educated me yet further in the "Pursuit of Happyness" by teaching me how to jump on the corporate ladder, even when all of life's forces are trying to keep you off of it, just like they're doing to me right now.
Then again, during a lonely time of my life, "I Am Legend" came out and Will Smith showed me how to deal with loneliness by being the last man on earth.
For all of these movies, I would like to shake Will Smith's hand one day and say "thank you," or "thanks, man."
Now after so many life lessons, when a new Will Smith movie comes out I can only ask myself: "what is Will going to teach me this time?" Today a new Will Smith movie is coming out: "Hancock." What can I expect Will Smith to teach me? After watching the trailer
I can't hazard a guess.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Musings, Rabbits
Our relationships with stories fascinates me.
This week I'll be finishing reading the book "Watership Down." My first exposure to this story was through an animated film I saw in grade school. Like many children, I presume, this movie completely freaked me out. All I can remember is the story is about rabbits, and that it filled me with dread. So much so that I couldn't go near this book ever since, until a couple years ago when I watched an early "Lost" episode that showed Sawyer reading it.
Hmmm . . . said I.
You see, there's something strangely cinematic about scenes in movies and TV where a character just sits there and reads. Books are experiences and knowledge that we can share with each other. When a fictional character in a movie is reading a book that we've read, we also share that experience and knowledge with that person, even though he doesn't actually exist. But if we haven't read the book we might ask "what is going through that person's mind in this scene while he's reading?" The character in the show has an advantage over us, so to speak. He knows something we don't.
What insight was Sawyer gaining from this book that could explain the mysteries of the island? I wondered. It took me a couple of years to get around to it, but after reading "Watership Down," I can't say. "Lost" is still just as big a mystery as it ever was. But I am extremely glad that I can soon say that I've read "Watership Down," and not because I've read a book that Sawyer's read.
No, no.
This book is spectacular, and completely imaginative in a way that so few are. It's like the scenes in "The Once and Future King" where Merlin turns little King Arthur into various animals. But it's so much better than "The Once and Future King" (which would have been good if the king being referred to in the title was King Arthur and not King Pellinor, who doesn't just show up once, but keeps coming back again and again in his quest for the questing beast, but that's a discussion for another day) After a morning reading "Watership Down" I feel like I've experienced life as a rabbit.
It's strange I can't really describe this book without giving it justice. I'll just say that I'm a bit maddened that such a scary movie had kept me from reading this book earlier.
This week I'll be finishing reading the book "Watership Down." My first exposure to this story was through an animated film I saw in grade school. Like many children, I presume, this movie completely freaked me out. All I can remember is the story is about rabbits, and that it filled me with dread. So much so that I couldn't go near this book ever since, until a couple years ago when I watched an early "Lost" episode that showed Sawyer reading it.
Hmmm . . . said I.
You see, there's something strangely cinematic about scenes in movies and TV where a character just sits there and reads. Books are experiences and knowledge that we can share with each other. When a fictional character in a movie is reading a book that we've read, we also share that experience and knowledge with that person, even though he doesn't actually exist. But if we haven't read the book we might ask "what is going through that person's mind in this scene while he's reading?" The character in the show has an advantage over us, so to speak. He knows something we don't.
What insight was Sawyer gaining from this book that could explain the mysteries of the island? I wondered. It took me a couple of years to get around to it, but after reading "Watership Down," I can't say. "Lost" is still just as big a mystery as it ever was. But I am extremely glad that I can soon say that I've read "Watership Down," and not because I've read a book that Sawyer's read.
No, no.
This book is spectacular, and completely imaginative in a way that so few are. It's like the scenes in "The Once and Future King" where Merlin turns little King Arthur into various animals. But it's so much better than "The Once and Future King" (which would have been good if the king being referred to in the title was King Arthur and not King Pellinor, who doesn't just show up once, but keeps coming back again and again in his quest for the questing beast, but that's a discussion for another day) After a morning reading "Watership Down" I feel like I've experienced life as a rabbit.
It's strange I can't really describe this book without giving it justice. I'll just say that I'm a bit maddened that such a scary movie had kept me from reading this book earlier.
Monday, June 23, 2008
Incomplete Optimism
Lets see, if Peter Pan were to teach me how to fly and told me to think happy thoughts, here's a possible scenario of what would go through my mind of things that make me happy (in no particular order):
bookstores
jazz
chopsticks
documentaries
couches and comfortable furniture
family
nephews (& niece)
friends, both old and new
swapping jokes
magic tricks
boomerangs
reading books
thai restaurants
. . . let's see what else . . .
running
hot showers
grandeur, delusional and real
jaunts through the woods
the spirit of exploration
drawings
sketchbooks
westerns
violins
guitars
balloons
the fact that this is an incomplete list
There are many more things, than pictures in a scrapbook, to discover that inspire happy thoughts.
bookstores
jazz
chopsticks
documentaries
couches and comfortable furniture
family
nephews (& niece)
friends, both old and new
swapping jokes
magic tricks
boomerangs
reading books
thai restaurants
. . . let's see what else . . .
running
hot showers
grandeur, delusional and real
jaunts through the woods
the spirit of exploration
drawings
sketchbooks
westerns
violins
guitars
balloons
the fact that this is an incomplete list
There are many more things, than pictures in a scrapbook, to discover that inspire happy thoughts.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Monkey Brains
This is what happened in Indy 4 right after Shia LaBeouf got done swinging with the monkeys:
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Journeys Through Forests, New Friends, Old Friends, Indy 4, Getting Married Movie Style
Yesterday was one of the more interesting days I've had in a while. First, a few friends and I went hiking through Forest Park. I've included some pictures here. I've lived close to Portland almost my entire life, yet for some reason this park has escaped me, until now.Forest Park is nestled right against downtown Portland. My friend, Gabe, lives close by so this week and last we, and a few others, have gone exploring. This park has it all: tall old growth trees, cathedral like canopies, beautiful streams and ponds, a castle like ruin called Stone House, salamanders, slugs, and hollow trees. It's a quiet sanctuary from Oregon's metropolis which is less than a mile away.
Afterwards I hung out with Gabe at his place. Not long afterwards, Gabe's girlfriend, Ariana, came over. They were nice enough to let me have dinner with them, and afterwards the three of us went to a movie called "Run Fatboy Run" about a man named Dennis who, five years after leaving his pregnant girlfriend at the altar, decides to become a more prominent part of her -- and their son's -- lives again by competing against her new boyfriend in a London marathon. I hope you don't feel spoiled by me telling you that in the end Dennis completes the marathon and wins back the respect of his son, and the heart of his ex-girlfriend, who he still loves. I will discuss this movie again later on because it was still fresh in my mind when I saw a midnight showing of "Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull" a few hours later.After the movie was over I said goodbye to Gabe and Ariana and walked around the corner from Gabe's apartment to my friend Mike's place.
Mike and I are both avid Indiana Jones fans and he had invited me, and our friend Bryan, to a midnight showing of "Indiana Jones." I had actually known Mike since the second grade and I've been friends with Bryan since kindergarten. It looked to me that the majority of the audience at the Indiana Jones midnight showing were mostly high school kids. So that would mean that Bryan and I have been friends since before many of these people were alive. And Indiana Jones had been around before either of us were alive! That in itself is a sobering thought.
. . .
I wrote all that on May 23, now it is June 16 and I am finishing this post. I promised earlier that I would discuss Indy 4 when it came out. Now all is said and done and almost all my friends have said they hated it because of the aliens or whatnot. The aliens didn't bother me, really. I wish they weren't computer animated, and that they would have made a puppet or had a really skinny guy in an alien costume, like in the X-Files. That would have been fun. But before I talk about what really struck me as disturbing about Indy 4, I'm going to say what I did like about it, for the record:
I thought the Russians made great bad guys. They looked almost just like the Nazis. The uniforms were a different color and they spoke Russian instead of German. I'm guessing the average Indy fan can't understand a lick of either language so who cares, right? Other than that they were practically interchangeable. It occurred to me that by setting the movie in South America during the 1950s they could have easily brought back some Nazis because that's where all the Nazis were at that time. But they probably wouldn't have been able to show up out of nowhere and point their machine guns at Indy like the plot required the Russians to do a dozen times or so.
I liked that the villain was a product of the Soviet mind control and telepathy experiments. That was a very nice touch.
The quicksand scene was probably the single greatest scene of Harrison Ford's career. This is the second:
I liked that they brought Marion back almost thirty years later. She wasn't the Marion we remember, though. I would have liked it even more if she would have gotten into a drinking contest with the Russians.
I liked that Indy survived a nuclear explosion in a lead refrigerator. I know a lot of people complained about this, but really, how else are you going to survive a nuclear explosion? And it's even more plausible than . . . well, I'll get to that later.
The flesh eating ants were cool.
Now I am going to talk about what really disturbed me about Indy 4, and I'm going to talk about some plot points in detail, so if you haven't seen Indy yet don't say you weren't warned.
About three quarters of the way through the movie we discover (along with Indy) that Shia Labeouf is really Marion and Indy's love child. You see, Indy and Marion were about to get married, but Indy left her at the alter while she was pregnant. At the end of the movie, Indy wins her back and they get married.
Wait a second! I had just seen a movie a few hours earlier where the exact same thing happens! It was called "Run Fatboy Run." Is this what Hollywood is teaching us these days? That in the end it really doesn't matter if you are a chubby English bloke or Indiana Jones himself, you can still leave your pregnant girlfriend at the alter, but you will be able to win her affection again?
Now what is really more realistic? That these lessons Hollywood is teaching us about how to treat your fiance are true? Or that in order to survive a nuclear blast simply insert oneself into a lead refrigerator?
If a nuclear blast is like hell, with fire and dead and melting things and all that, I suppose one could say that hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Orc Report
I haven't checked my youtube account in a while, so when I did so today I found that my most popular video, "the Orc Report," now has 314 views! Last time I checked it was at somewhere around 280. It's getting up there! So to celebrate it's surpassing the 300 mark I am posting it here for all of those who have not seen it.
And no, in case you were wondering, I am not the only person that's watched it, and watched it 314 times.
Just to sum up what it's about, I made this in April of 2007 shortly after all the trees were cut down on the BYU-Idaho campus. This investigative report reveals why.
And no, in case you were wondering, I am not the only person that's watched it, and watched it 314 times.
Just to sum up what it's about, I made this in April of 2007 shortly after all the trees were cut down on the BYU-Idaho campus. This investigative report reveals why.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Another Episode of Listening to the Classical Radio Station
Mother's Day Afternoon. I am driving home to get to the Mother's Day party. I am listening to a listener request program on the classical music radio station. Coincidentally this is the same program I was listening to that I described a few months ago in this blog post. Unfortunately nothing so transcendental is about to happen to me this time, just a simple observation is all.
The music that's playing is, I would describe as, hauntingly beautiful. It is slow and melodious and there is a deep female vocal part that, combined with the violins, communicates to me a sense of longing and exile. Really quite remarkable.
The piece finishes and the announcer comes on (do you call them disc jockeys when it's the classical station?) and I must point out that this particular gentleman has a very deep gravely voice and British accent which I find delightfully erudite, but my parents think is obnoxious because he sounds like he's caressing the microphone as he speaks.
He says: "That piece gets to me every time I hear it. That is the second movement of Symphony Number 3 by Henryk Górecki, the 'Symphony of Sorrowful Songs' requested by Lloyd in Happy Valley."
What kind of place is this happy valley? I believe this footage holds the answer:
The music that's playing is, I would describe as, hauntingly beautiful. It is slow and melodious and there is a deep female vocal part that, combined with the violins, communicates to me a sense of longing and exile. Really quite remarkable.
The piece finishes and the announcer comes on (do you call them disc jockeys when it's the classical station?) and I must point out that this particular gentleman has a very deep gravely voice and British accent which I find delightfully erudite, but my parents think is obnoxious because he sounds like he's caressing the microphone as he speaks.
He says: "That piece gets to me every time I hear it. That is the second movement of Symphony Number 3 by Henryk Górecki, the 'Symphony of Sorrowful Songs' requested by Lloyd in Happy Valley."
What kind of place is this happy valley? I believe this footage holds the answer:
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
