Monday, April 30, 2012

Way More Groovy Than the New iPhone!

Nah, no iphone for me.  Nope.  I'm pretty much stuck in the 1960's as far as my eeeelectronics are concerned.  It's weird, though--for some reason, I keep feeling the need to phone Moscow.  Huh. So strange.

"Hi!  Wanna come over and watch "Bewitched" or "The Beverly Hillbillies" with me?  
We can drink some Tang and eat a bunch of Sixlets and Slap Stix Caramel suckers and Jiffy Pop until we make ourselves sick.  Then, we'll rat our hair into a huge beehive 'do and go crazy with the Aquanet.  Yeah?  Far out!"

I know.  I'm such a nerd.

Friday, April 27, 2012

Happy Birthday, Mr. Black Velvet Suit!


In this photo, Birthday Boy Dave was post-high school, pre-mission, and had a thing for fat ties and velvet duds.  His platform shoes were pretty hep too, making him even longer and lankier.  (Wish he wore those platform shoes now since I have a thing for my 4" heels, causing me to forever say to Birthday Boy Dave, "Be sure to stand up straight, cuz I've got my high heels goin' on!")

For you sharp-shooters out there who have an eye for detail, you may recognize that Birthday Boy Dave is standing in front of Heritage Halls, my place of residence during my freshman year at BYU.  Yes, you would be the Final Jeopardy winner if you said, "Glory be, I think that's where Christian was living merely six weeks ago, isn't it?!"  BINGO!  Yup, same place!  And, you would be the Double Jeopardy winner if you said, "And, didn't Ashley live there during her freshman year, too?"  Crazy that what goes around, comes around, huh!  Seanie skipped the whole on-campus, cinderblock housing thing right out of high school and went straight for a shack in Honduras.  Go figure.

Further proof of the same old, same old.  I think the cinderblock walls we see behind Birthday Boy Dave are identical to those in Christian's and Ashley's Heritage Halls bedrooms.  Nothing. has. changed.  But, hey!  What's Birthday Boy Dave doing in my room? Whoops.  Heh, heh. Don't ask me.  I have no recollection of what he was doing in there because I'm fiercely distracted by my ginorm Jackie O. sunglasses on the shelf up above Birthday Boy Dave's head. What the what?

--One of six boys
--Goes by "Dave", "Sags", "Papa", "Mower Man", "Monkey Boy"*
--Loves Japanese food, especially Katsudon
--Love his lawn; I mean, LUUUUUVS his lawn
--Dick Van Dyke, Andy Griffith, and Jimmy Stewart are his heroes
--Is happiest when mowing his lawn
--Interviewed in h.s. by national news about his amateur film
--Mows his lawn at least three times a week during the summer
--Is one of those black licorice eaters *shudder*
--Calls his lawn "Your Highness"
--Spoils his high-maintenance wife rotten
--Adores his children
--Cannot get enough of his grandson
--Wishes that he could mow his lawn every. single. day.


And, while we're on the subject of our beloved BYU campus (and, yes we were--weren't you paying any attention at all???), here I am as a college sophomore with those good old Deseret Towers (may they R.I.P.) behind me.  Or, would that be, in front of me?  But jeepers, ya got me on this one, guys.  What in sam hill AM I doing in this photo, anyway?  If memory serves, my friend, Sheri, and I were a little over-eager to hit up Sundance Ski Resort, and we thought that this would be a close substitute.  Frankly, I think what we were actually(!) doing was showing off and being flat-out dorks.  Unfortunately, that part of me hasn't changed a whole bunch . . .

*jk about that one

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Don't Try This At Home, Boys and Girls!

A big shout-out to Jordan and Kimball who introduced me to the awesome video below.  The video is so awesome, in fact, that it caused me to sit completely rapt for exactly 6:06 minutes, slack-jawed, horrified, and amused all at once.  That's quite the dance party mash-up.

Now, it's your turn:

Make sure you have your volume up; 
the accompanying music contributes to at least half of the coolness factor here. 

I know!  Right?! Too bad this spiffy Phantom Flex somethin' somethin' slo-mo camera thingy used for this video wasn't around when we were kids because suddenly what was deemed as pretty darn naughty by my parents most certainly would have magically become supercalifragilisticexpialidociously spectacular if seen in slo-mo like this!  Stupidity captured at 2500 frames per second indeed!

I'm pretty positive that my older brothers pulled off several of these antics back in the day.  In fact, I'm sure of it cuz we always had Bic lighters a-go-go floating all around our house, and now we all see why.  That big carpet burn in one brother's bedroom?  That's just small potatoes. And, I don't think my mom ever fully recovered from all of the homemade rockets and huge floating candle lanterns made out of dry-cleaning bags sent whizzing into either the neighbors' dead trees or onto their tinder-in-waiting-dry-as-the-desert rooftops.  Some of those rockets often contained a cargo load of insects, some of which were subsequently burned at the stake by a powerful magnifying glass if they had the (un)lucky fate of surviving the blastoff and landing. Or, if not them, then it was their tiny little aunts and uncles who did the Joan of Arc thing.  And, don't even get me started on the blow darts and the neighbors' cats.  You don't even want to know . . . 

But, my!  What great footage my scarred-for-life childhood experiences would have provided had we owned one of these Phantom Flex camera thingys!  It just goes to show that one's perspective of tom foolery can be viewed as either wickedly mischievous or as cool as all get out--just depends on your camera.  Yes, ye brothers of mine?  

Saturday, April 21, 2012

Me? Wigging Out?

Just because I sniffle and boohoo a little bit nearly every day as I say humble prayers for my young elder, and just because I stand wistfully at his bedroom door looking in, and just because I refuse to pack away his yellow sneakers and his red sneakers that lay about our mudroom, don't think that I'm freaking out!  I've got things under control.  At least, as far as Christian knows.  Poor Dave, though.  All I've got to say is that he is one patient man.  And, johnny-on-the-spot with a Kleenex.

Seriously, though.  I'm as proud as a pickle of Christian and wouldn't want him to be doing anything else at this time of his life.  What an awesome example of goodness and righteousness and dedication he is to me!  Jeepers, I love him so!

*Well, looky there!  We're at exactly 1 month, 7 days and counting . . . 

Friday, April 20, 2012

The Final F.R.I.D.A.Y. Freakout For Christian--For Now

Ahhh.  A few weeks back, we had one last F.R.I.D.A.Y. fling before Christian embarked on his most awesome adventure of serving a two-year LDS mission in Stockholm, Sweden.  


So sorry.  It is hard, people.  Hold on . . .  


Yep, I'm okay.  Just give me a sec here. 


Anywho!  Now as I was saying, we were lucky enough to squeeze in one last F.R.I.D.A.Y. freakout merely days before we drop-kicked Christian out of the car at the curb of the MTC.  As good fortune would have it, Ashley, Kimball, Dave, and Marian were able to join the F.R.I.D.A.Y. regulars.  In honor of this very auspicious F.R.I.D.A.Y. freakout, Kimball randomly but  graciously represented the firefighter brotherhood and wore that revered uniform with dignity and great √©lan.  You can see by the look on his face that he doesn't take this charge to impersonate represent his fellow fighters any too lightly.

Aldolpho, on the other hand, was a pill and a photog hog and ended up sneaking into all of our pics, including the two below.  Looks as happy as a clam, doesn't he.  But, of course he would.  And, why not?  He has free food, free transportation, and a head of red hair that would make even this redhead follicularly jealous.  Not to mention this redhead.  And, let's not leave out this carrot top.  Which makes this carrot top come to mind, which always leaves me a little skeptical about the authenticity of that red hair.  This is the redhead who gets my vote!

Goodness to pete.  This happy chap is always wanting to be the center of attention.  (I was meaning Aldolpho!  Sheesh, you guys.) (Ha! Did I scare you for a minute there, Sean?  He who is the most humble of the humble?!)

So!  What was your verdict from our previous F.R.I.D.A.Y. frou-frou?  Was Aldolpho bobsledding precariously on top of a bottle of steak sauce, or was he desperately seeking attention while posing publicly as a bawdy bathing beauty?  Crazy dude.

My, I do miss that Elder Sagers.  

Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Snarfing Down Some Onomatopoeias

So!  I see that you survived my oh-so-very-clever (really? clever? um, no) "Ode To Sugar" read here.  And you came back!  Wow!  I. am. impressed!  Give yourself a sticky little lollipop for being willing to subject yourself to even more tiring nonsense by showing up at this blog yet again!  But, I'm glad you did because hopefully that means you noticed that I've been doing some mighty fine 'splainin' about that pile of candy spilling all over my house.  Aaaand?  It's really not as bad as you thought, right?  Right? Well, not quite as bad as you thought.  Yes, it is bad.   

All right!  I admit it.  I am a sucker (zing!) for candy!  The evil witch in "Hansel and Gretel" and I are like THIS.  Tight.  We get it.  Candy draws a crowd.  Candy is pretty.  Candy looks happy. Candy is fun to say.  C-c-c-c-c-aaaaaaaaandy.  See?  The mere pronunciation of it is delicious.  It makes me feel the need to completely surround myself with it.  However, pronouncing the word candy doesn't even come close to the deliciousness of saying the word cake.  Or, cookies.  Or, popcorn.  Say it with me, people--pawpah-korn.  

Mmmm, I love me a good, old fashioned onomatopoeia. Which, technically, these words probably are NOT.  I don't know.  I'm no linguist.  But, if you say them with just the right guttural sound in your throat, they'll make you absolutely rabid with desire for a freshly baked cookkkkkie (see how it just rattles around in your mouth so tastily?) or a big mess o' German chocolate keck!  Oooh, and that reminds me of this hilarity!  Luuuuuv Franck Eggelhoffer and his $1200 keck--such a classic.

*I cracked up when I saw the qualifier in the bottom right-hand corner of the record album cover shown at the top of this post:  NON-BREAKABLE IN NORMAL USE.  I guess what the manufacturer is saying is that if I choose to use this record album to hit a home intruder over his head, there is no guarantee that it won't break?  What about using it to play Frisbee golf? What about if I try to get crafty with it to make a nifty molded candy dish for our hep-cat music room?  Ah.  Apparently, the guarantee clause doesn't cover creative genius-ness such as that. 

  [on-uh-mat-uh-pee-uh, ‐mah-tuh] Show IPA

the formation of a wordas cuckoo, meow, honk,  or boom,  byimitation of a sound made by or associated with itsreferent.
a word so formed.
the use of imitative and naturally suggestive words forrhetorical, dramatic, or poetic effect.

Sunday, April 15, 2012

The Olde Candy Shoppe (And When I Say "Olde," I Really Mean "Olde"!)


Are you still reeling from the sight of all of this c-c-c-c-c-aaaaaaaaaandy from my last post?  I want to make something perfectly clear:  Much of the candy you saw in my display isn't really edible.  The reason it isn't really edible is because a good share of it harks back to many days of yore, as in bunches and bunches of Easters of yesteryear.  

Do you see those Peeps in the large glass container pictured below?  Those Peeps will cost you about $950 per Peep if you try to eat one because it will break your tooth right in half with its hard-as-cementness due to the fact that these Peeps are not anywhere close to being new to my stash.  And, that very large chocolate bunny?  Same for him.  Actually, if you look closely, you will see where a guest at Christian's missionary open house tried to sneak a bite off of this bunny's right ear.  (Yeah! I know!)  Obviously, the past expiration and petrified chocolate was mightier than the tooth.  If I really wanted to track down the perpetrator, all I would need to do is look for one of our pals who is sporting a brand spankin' new pair of dentures.  I won't do that though because, uh, obviously, this person has already received enough punishment for his or her bunny ear infraction as it is--I hear that dentures really are not the rollicking barrel o' fun that sooooo many people claim.

You can scoff if you want, but I think my Easter candy recycling system is pretty swell.  See, I save a boatload of money each year by pulling out this fossilized candy rather than buying all new junk, and the resident waistlines at our house can blame something other than my pretty Easter display if their tummies happen to grow a touch larger.  I'm completely innocent of that, Your Honor!  Although I must say, there are those people who will risk a trip to their dentist no matter how much I warn them . . . .

As hard as rocks, I tell ya!

Hmmm.  Are those really teeth marks in Mr. Bunny's right ear?

Why, yes.  Yes, they are teeth marks!  Look at that!

More evidence from the rear view.

Exhibit "A"

Exhibit "B"

I rest my case, Your Honor.  I will take responsibility for neither a new set of dentures nor extra poundage tipping the bathroom scales.  I've done my part by being a horrible hostess and presenting mineralized candy goods to my guests.  I wash my hands of all of the subsequent fallout. 

(Hang the food-safety issues--just as long as it looks pretty, I think we're good to go!  :})

Thursday, April 12, 2012

A Literary Prose To Thy Sweetest Springtime or: My Highbrow "Ode To Sugar"

Ahem.  *tap, tap, tap*  Is this thing on?  Can you guys hear me way in the back there?  Yes?  Okay.  If the AV guy and lighting guy and the prop guys are all set, let's give this a whirl.  

I proudly present to you my . . . 



(This poem is bound to be a literary classic, no?)

Please don't judge.  

I sense that you are judging.

You ARE judging, aren't you?!

Now, don't go getting your knickers in a twist before you let me give something of an explanation for the obscene amount of sugar you see here.  I can redeem myself. Somewhat.  Sorta.  Kinda.  Well, I suppose you really WILL have to be the judge of that.  Stay tuned . . . .

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

Hey Everybody! Hope Your Easter Was Eggceptional!

Our Easter?  Well, I had the privilege of speaking in church on Easter Sunday, which meant that the Easter Bunny barely managed to make his rounds with a meager collection of candy which may or may not have included a smattering of jelly beans, a bunch of recycled chocolate and not one dyed Easter egg.  It's all about priorities, boys and girls. And, my priorities the Easter Bunny's priorities included not standing at a miked wooden podium woefully unprepared.  Thankfully, the sacrifice of dyed Easter eggs in exchange for talk preparation was worth it.  At least, for me.  And, for Dave?  His personal package of black licorice jelly beans (ew, gross) found in his Easter basket seemed to pacify him well enough.  Whatever it takes.

So!  We'll be dyeing our Easter eggs this week!  Better late than never!  And, you're all invited!  WOOT, WOOT!  TOOT, TOOT!  C'mon over one and all!  We're '"DYEING" to have you!  Sorry.

Thursday, April 05, 2012

" . . . I Believe It's a Match, Dahhrling . . . "

Thanks to the blog of my super talented NYC friend, Kristy (the daughter of my equally super talented Illinois friend, Lisa), I have had a song rattling around in my brain for a week or so now.  The rattle in my brain isn't one of those annoying ear worm rattles brought on by the likes of "Whoomp, There It Is!" or "The Lion Sleeps Tonight" or . . . wait for it . . . "It's A Small World"!  

Gaaaaahhhhhh!  Oh, no!  EAR WORM ALERT!  EAR WORM ALERT!  " . . . there's so much that we share, that it's time we're aware, it's a small world after all!"  Uh-ohhhhh, now I've gone and done it . . . 

Okay.  Just shoot me now.  I'm throwing in the towel for the rest of the day because that "It's a Small World" jingle-jangle will now be my best friend for the next, oh, say 24 hours or so.  However!  Yippeeee ki yay!  I'm here to save us!  There is an antidote for the dreaded ear worm condition.  Knocks it out cold!  And. It. Is. Divine.  Tell me you don't absolutely loooooooove this (the fun really ramps up at 3:17)!:

" . . . and we'll have a night at the Casbah that neither of us will forget . . . "

Who wouldn't want that rattling around in their brain?  Admit it, you actually bounced a little bit in your chair while listening to this didn't you!  

And now, I think that "that man" who lives at my house needs to go out and buy himself a spiffy fedora.  Ciao, ciao! 

See Kristy's very honest and touching "I'm a Mormon" video here.