Booze, Sugar, and Sacrilege

This is how Texans say goodbye.

My team at work blew me away with an amazing going away party on my last day. It was way more than I expected and really caught me off guard. They call me a "Traitor" for leaving Texas and got me a cake that they feel best represents their image of Utah. I thought is was pretty wonderful. Frankly, it left me a little speechless. I'll let the pictures speak for themselves.

In Utah

Man. I'm not sure how I feel about this one. At around 7:30 p.m. Central time I was told that my first day back in Utah would be on March 1st. That gives me (us) 10 days to get a U-Haul, pack, and move back to Utah.

So, how am I feeling? I'm a little dazed. Honestly, there are so many things about Texas I already miss. I miss the green rolling fields and the pastures of longhorn cattle. I miss the hawks and falcons you see so frequently. I miss the trees and lakes. I miss the gym at work. I miss the cool parks and walking trails. I miss the free wine tasting at Albertson's. I miss the diversity.

The truth is, though, almost everything I miss about Texas is a thing, not a who. The "who's" are all in Utah. The faces I look forward to seeing, the conversations I look forward to having, the hugs from family members I look forward to receiving...

They are all ahead of me. In Utah.

Preparing For De-Evolution

I've been reading a lot about the paleo (or Caveman) diet lately. Really, my interest in this approach to nutrition has stemmed from a year-long desire to eliminate processed "foods" - a disturbingly difficult task these days.


The new year Men's Health issue had a really cool, in-depth article about what nutritionists are now calling "Obesogens." It is depressing to learn how much of what we eat (and even what we eat it from) is jacking up our bodies and giving us cancer.


Not being a member of the 40% portion of the American population that believes the earth is only 6,000 years old, I've also been intrigued by the approach of these modern day Cavemen. it really makes you wonder what our ideal diet is as a species, considering that humans have been on the planet for 2,000,000 years and the first agricultural revolution was only about 10,000 years ago. That doesn't even take into consideration what we've been doing to food in the last 100 years.


In many interviews I have heard promoters of the Caveman Diet describe our current world as a zoo, with humans being the prominent animal on display. Like any good zookeeper, it is our responsibility to provide our animals with their most natural diet and habitat. So, if you were given a human and wanted to give them the food they were evolved to eat, what would that be? In one article I read something like, "you could keep a lion alive on Twinkies, but you wouldn't be feeding it its ideal diet."


By the way, you should really check out MovNat to learn more about their view of "natural" eating and exercise habits. They explain it much better than I can.


Erwan Le Corre, the founder of the movement was once described as "the fittest man alive." One of his close friends and New York co-founder John Durant was recently featured on Colbert, which scores him major points, of course.


Anyway, this is starting to feel like a sales pitch. Honestly though, the most compelling argument I've heard about their eating and exercise habits is, "watch how a child exercises." They run, jump, wrestle, climb, spend zero time on a treadmill, and yet they seem to have unstoppable energy, glowing skin, incredible flexibility, and natural athleticism. I would go as far as venturing a guess about how a child would choose to eat naturally, but it would be almost impossible to find a control group. As soon as they are old enough to ween most kids get loaded (poisoned) with high fructose corn syrup and partially hydrogenated... everything. I'm realizing that it really is a shitty time to live as far as food is concerned. Even our vegetables are riddled with pesticides and genetic modification, unless of course you can pay $8 a pound for organic green peppers.


It really puts things into perspective when you realize that eating a raw lizard is much cleaner and healthier than chowing down on a box of mac and cheese.


We've already started focusing our shopping efforts to the exterior of the store--ALWAYS a good idea. But, the more I read about the way we were designed to eat, the more eager I am to get a garden going and start eating more venison--and feeding it to my kids before I help ruin their perfect little bodies.

"C'mon, Baby, Light My Fire"

“If you ever plan on writing a book, going on a diet, or training for a marathon… don’t tell anyone or they will encourage you to death.”

I’m sure I got that quote wrong, but I know I’ve read something along those lines. Well, I’ve already done the first two of those things and seriously considered the third. I would be all for a marathon if it weren’t for my seething hatred of running.

The problem is; I’m a talker. I’d say that at least two-thirds of my ideas turn out to be hair-brained schemes at best, so saying them out loud in front of more logical people sometimes helps keep me grounded.

I gotta admit, though… this one has kept me up at night.

The other day I was out walking by the lake and decided to jog around to the least-trafficked side of the building. It was a cold a blustery day, smelling sweetly of winter.

My work shoes are already trashed so I decided to just veer off into the woods, mud notwithstanding. While I was pushing my way through the brush I scraped my hand.

I’m not a masochist but there was something delightful in the pain. Real men are supposed to have a few scars.

Quote Chuck Palahnuik through the words of Tyler Durden through the mouth of Brad Pitt: “Hell, even the Mona Lisa’s falling apart.”

Also like Durden, I don’t want to die without any scars.

Clarity was waiting for me in those woods. Call it intuition. Call it God. Call it Fate. Call it The Architect of the Universe. Call it dumb-friggin-luck. Call it what you will.

It was an epiphany of sorts I guess. One I may regret. One I may wish I’d never had. One I may question time and time again. But, like every 6-year-old male on the planet… I realized that I really want to be a firefighter.

While I was working my way back into the office, something in me wanted desperately to just turn and flee deeper into the woods. The thought of sitting down at that stupid desk (consequently the one I’m at now) made me so sick to my stomach I almost couldn’t do it.

The weird thing is; I don’t hate my job. It’s pretty easy and the pay and benefits are more than fair. There is almost no stress to speak of. It is comfortable and soft. Why should I complain?

While I was in those woods I realized that I felt so disgusted by the thought of it exactly because it was so comfy and soft.

I’ve always thought that, while the female body was created as thing of beauty, a vessel of life, that the male body was designed strictly for utility.

Despite our similarities (and please don’t take this in a sexist way or to reflect my opinion of what women are capable of, I think they are incredible), in my mind their purposes were as different as that of a delicate orchid and a rusty hatchet.

When I first got my stock broker’s license, I was terrified that I would be exposed as a blue-collar tourist in a white-collar world. It took me almost four years to realize that wasn’t really right. The truth is; I’ve felt so out of place because I’m going against my nature. Working this office job is like swimming upriver.

I don’t mean the nature of man or the order of the world, just something in me.

Before I made the final decision to go on an LDS mission, I had spent a lot of time talking with the fire chief in Cedar City. He trained the smoke jumpers. I spent a lot of time at his house because his son was good friends with my roommate. The chief would make us homemade pizza while we sat in the basement and watched MTV’s Fear every Wednesday night. I was almost decided on it then. I can’t believe it but that was almost 10 years ago.

Back then, the allure of the job was adventure and the outdoors. I chose a mission because I felt convinced that my time spent would be more beneficial to others, and myself. I was right. I don’t regret a second of it.

The irony of it is that I left framing because it was too dangerous. All of the sudden I had a wife and kid to think about. I couldn’t get knocked off of a wall or had something dropped on me and leave them alone. Now I want nothing more than to do one of the most dangerous jobs on the planet.

What I realized the other day is that I only go to work for a paycheck. It’s not a bad paycheck and it keeps us comfortable, but that is seriously my ONLY reason for going to work. My kids know that I go to work for the money, and nothing else. Aside from the dollar signs, my time away from home contributes nothing.

Like it or not, I am the rusty hatchet. I’m built like a tree trunk. I may have a slightly under-developed self-preservation gland. I’m good at digging ditches and chopping firewood. I am the utility model of the human race. I’m not pretty and I’m not fast, but when it comes to moving large objects or pushing things down, I’m your guy. That’s just the card I was dealt and I feel like I’m wasting it, getting soft behind this damn computer. What if I could use those skills to actually make a difference? What if I could look my wife and daughter in the eyes each morning before work and tell them that I love them and that I was going to work to try and help people? What if my daughters knew that, even though daddy’s job was dangerous and kept him away from home, it might help somebody else, even save somebody else. Wouldn’t that give them a reason to be proud of their old man? Wouldn’t that make them a little more excited to bring dad around for career day?

I watch guys here sit and eat themselves to death at this job and know I don’t want to go that way. Yeah, I know, you can work in an office and still stay in shape. You can also go to SeaWorld and not get wet, but it requires a lot more steps than it’s worth.

When it comes to cereal, I’ve always reached for quantity over quality. Regarding your number of remaining minutes spent on earth; I’m beginning to realize that it’s the other way around.

I don’t want to choose money and comfort and soft safety over what feels natural to me. Give me the five-figure pay cut, the Halligan, the bangs and bruises and bad shoulders, and give me all of the memories and experiences that go with it—good and bad.

The Smelly Feet Protein Smorgasbord

Trying a new approach to nutrition. If your food is extremely unappetizing, you may spread out your meals throughout the day. This is the recipe I invented this morning and still have not been able to finish:

- splash of sesame oil

- 5 eggs

- 2 cups of liquid egg whites

- 1 container of tofu

- splash of soy sauce

- splash of worchestershire sauce (can't spell it or say it)

- 1 giant handful of spinach

- 1/4 cup of blue cheese

Hold your breath as you scramble everything together. Cram it into a tupperware container and quickly snap on the lid.

Even if your food is chock-full of protein, vitamins, and good fat, it makes it easy to eat sparingly when your meal is brown with green spots and a potent odor of feet.

The Root (of the) Problem

Laying down roots...

People talk about that. It's a novel concept, something that Jenny and I have been striving for during our entire relationship. Every time I hear about it I imagine something like the picture above. Something sturdy, wooden, locked into place.

Lately I'm realizing that, as a family, we are much more like a wad of gum than a majestic oak.

It seems like we pick ourselves up in hopes of setting down roots like those, when instead, by the act of moving, we leave trailing strands behind.



For both of us, the majority of our strands stay planted in Davis County Utah. That is the truth - like it or not. We've left behind varying-sized strands in Florida, Indiana, Wyoming, and now, Texas.

Like gum, these strands may weaken over time. They may become brittle and even break. Unlike gum, however, setting down these points of contact has not diminished our "wad" as a whole. (Probably the UGLIEST word I've ever used in comparison to my adorable family.)

Like the majestic oak, even gum can become a hardened and permanent fixture given enough time.

And I so look forward to becoming a stagnant piece of gum.

10 Embarrassing Public Confessions

I saw this picture today while I was working on our department newsletter and it made me smile. I used to be an avid collector of Calvin and Hobbes books. This picture brings back a lot of good memories, but it also made me think, "Even when we're grown, most guys still do this in the mirror and consider themselves low-grade superheroes."

In my mind, the pronoun "we're" seemed fitting because I've convinced myself that I am not alone in this. The truth is, I'm pushing 30 and better men would have left behind such childish delusions by my age.

Like steps along a stone walkway, that led me to draw the connection to some other personal confessions:

1. Along the lines of the picture above, I still find myself bragging to Jenny about how much weight I lifted even though I know it makes me an incredible tool. Like a kid running to the pencil line on the kitchen entryway 3 times a day to see if he is any taller, I confirm my physical insecurities by getting home from work and saying things like, "I totally dumbbell shoulder-pressed 140 pounds today!" Jenny will smile placatingly and nod.

2. If it is too cold to roll my window down, I will wipe boogers on the floor mat of my car. Your assumptions surrounding that statement are probably true. And, yes, given the opportunity to flick, I DO try to hit other cars. Disgusting, I know.

3. Sometimes having daughters terrifies me so much that I want to sit them down and beg them to not say mean things to me when they get older. I am almost tempted to start a pony fund for each of them so that I have a sizable bribe to prevent them from making me cry. It seems like teenage girls have had the capacity to hurt my feelings since I was about 13.

4. I hate tucking in my shirt so much that I will usually wear a jacket at my desk. That is fine because I prefer being too warm over too tucked. Like a pantless news anchor, this policy works as long as I stay sitting down. I took my jacket off today and, after my workout, was too lazy to put it on or tuck my shirt in. So, I made my protein shake with the cold leftover coffee on my desk.

5. I really liked the movie Never Back Down. It is a predictable tweener movie with cardboard characters and eye-candy for girls, but I can't help but like it. It's like what Fight Club would have been if Stephenie Meyer had written it.

6. Sometimes I feel a sting of rejection if my wife doesn't "Like" my facebook status.

7. Speaking of facebook, John Armstrong posted a link to an Annoying Couple music video and, well, it made we worry that Jenny and I fit too many of those qualities. I also just watched the latest episode of How I Met Your Mother where Marshal and Lilly are shocked by how disgusted everyone is when they learn that the couple shares a toothbrush. Jenny and I totally share a toothbrush. I mean, we own two, but we just reach for whichever one is closest.

8. A few weeks ago Jenny threw away my old holey sneakers. I dug them out of the trash and hid them in the trunk of my car. They were the shoes I found in Moab... sitting on top of a dumpster. I now own shoes that have been retrieved from the trash on two separate occasions. Given the chance, I know I'll do it a third time.

9. I try to consider myself something of a writer, but I am so ignorant when it comes to grammar and the structure of our language that I had to google my use of "pronoun" in the second paragraph of this post. Still not sure if I used it right. In fact, when spellcheck doesn't recognize my word, it makes me feel like a badass, like I somehow invented a word.

10. Sometimes I crave an adrenaline rush so much that I will keep myself from peeing until the end of my shift. I will hold it for up to an hour just so I can pee in the parking garage, even though the bathroom is only 20 feet from my desk. I know it's stupid and petty and illegal and could get me fired, but--much like the urge to urinate--the urge to rebel seems to build over time. If I don't have to pee I will longboard through the parking garage instead.

Ah. That was surprising liberating - writing the post, not peeing. Though, I am tempted to remove the word "Public" from the title of this post since only 4 people read this blog.

P.S. - 11. When I first wrote the title, I misspelled it to read "10 Embarrassing Pubic Confessions" which would probably have suited #10 pretty well, especially if I'm caught in the act.

All-Princess Weekend

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away...

Like, Texas far...

Two beautiful princesses named Emma and Abbi were stuck inside their castle (rambler) because of the cold, rainy weather.

Their Father, the King and big spender, took his two princesses to a magical store of enchanted discs. $4.28 later they left the kingdom of Blockbuster in their Honda Odyssey chariot, each princess with their selection in hand.

Their Mother, the Queen, invented delicious and healthy homemade popcicles with plain yogurt, blueberries, bananas, and dark chocolate.

The walls of the castle were filled with princess songs from their chosen DVDs. So much so, that even after returning to his bread-winning duties on Monday, the King cannot forget that "there's something there that wasn't there before" between Belle and The Beast.

"What's there, Mama?"

Ah, Chip, you silly little bastard tea cup.

(I only call him a bastard because his father is nowhere to be found and it looks like he got knocked around a little.)

The number of Thing-A-Ma-Bobs belonging to Ariel still rings clearly, nay relentlessly, in his mind.

The disturbing realization of how many Disney villains fall to their deaths is still fresh.

In fact, the King and Queen laughed at each other after proving how immersed in the All-Princess Weekend they were by spending their Saturday night watching Atlantis.

To all of the other Kings and Queens with little princesses at home, I invite you to visit the Disney Princess website. We stumbled on it by accident and found that our little princesses really enjoyed picking dresses and accessories for their favorite princess. Enjoyed it for HOURS.