Veiled world

I love to wake up to a foggy morning. There's something about seeing the world slightly filtered and obscured that makes me feel like I've stepped into a mystery. The gray-whiteness reveals trees, houses, cars slowly and partially as I walk towards them, with those things I've just passed slowly fading into obscurity. Lights take on a grander importance... fog has the ability to magnify a simple stop light--giving it an eerie red halo. Sounds take on a slightly muted tone. The fog creates a kind of "reality-lite" which I wholeheartedly prefer over bright, glaring reality. I wish I could live in "reality-lite" longer, but here in Portland, the fog always lifts by mid-morning and I suddenly find myself in harsh, blinding reality.

Troop Pompous Scouts

I was talking with someone at work yesterday about camping for scouts and it reminded me of what a complete ass I made of myself time and time again as a Boy Scout. And don't get me started on the futile attempt the scoutmasters made in their efforts to turn me into a self-sufficient woodsman, when in reality, I was more of a day-hiker-regular-bed-sleeping-non-blackened-food-eating city-dweller. To this day, I don't mind camping as long as I'm not responsible for gathering and packing the necessities--like a sleeping bag or sensible shoes. I seem to always be able to remember to bring chips and yahtzee, but time and again, Margaret and I will have gotten to a camping location and discovered that I've forgotten to bring something--and not some obscure, we-can-make-do-without-it kind of thing, but a we're-gonna-starve-or-die item, like a knife, or maybe matches, or perhaps, God forbid my iPod! Fortunately all our camping has been car camping, where we fold down the back seat of the Jetta and lay out a bed. I love it because we stay dry, warm, and bears and escaped convicts can't get us in our locked car with the alarm activated. And nothing says the great outdoors like being spooned by the gentle curves of German engineering.

Well, back to the scout memories of me being an ass--or at least a pompous twit. One time (I'm using this story just as an example, as there are unfortuantely MANY more similar to it that I could recount. If I told too many of them, though, the Boy Scouts of America national office would probably revoke my Eagle Scout badge--or at least make me retake my knot-tying exam, which I would miserably FAIL!) Anyway, on one scout trip, my best friend and I thought we'd bring expensive, presumptuous food items to make us feel superior to the kids that brought sandwiches and pop. (We hadn't yet learned that we could feel MUCH more superior by simply destroying other's self-esteem... that discovery came a few months later, but we... uh... never used it... really.) We went to the grocery store prior to the campout and carefully selected melba-style bread crackers, brie, some kind of pepper spread, a cheesecake, and bottles of Perrier! What would have been more appropriate on a picnic in the English countryside packed by faithful servants we were bringing on an arduous hike in the dry, dusty trails of backcountry Idaho! Thinking back, I'm just cringe at what we had to have been thinking. Especially since we were Idahoans--it wasn't like we were so sophisticated ourselves. When it came time to pull out our lunches, we made a big deal about our food. I'm sure that most of the other scouts didn't notice, and the ones who did probably didn't even recognize that what we were eating was out of the ordinary. Although I do remember one scout leader from another group from Kamiah, Idaho--a town of maybe 2,500 people--sitting down next to us. We made a big deal about drinking our Perrier, thinking that he'd be impressed because even though we were from the boondocks, he was from the STICKS! His response was, "When I was in France, I stayed at a hotel where you flushed the toilet with Perrier." Huh? What kind of response was that? And was that supposed to be impressive? We just thought he was an idiot (and conveniently ignored the fact that we were acting like idiots, too).

Nowadays, my palate runs the gamut of social strata. I'm just as happy with a Taco Bell soft taco and Diet Coke as I am with a good cheese or a densely layered tiramisu. Although to this day, every time I drink a Perrier, I think of French toilets--one more reason to stick to Diet Coke!

Have a seat

This morning I saw the following news item, which is in my favorite city in the world--the small southern Norwegian city of Kristiansand. Anyway, here's the article, which definitely speaks for itself:

Urination will go to committee

A local decision that schoolboys must sit on toilet seats when urinating has provoked political debate.

The head of The Democrats Party, a splinter group of former Progress Party hardliners, Vidar Kleppe, is outraged that boys at Dvergsnes School in Kristiansand have to sit and pee.

Kleppe accuses the school of fiddling with God's work, and wants the matter discussed at the executive committee level of the local council, newspaper Dagbladet reports.

"When boys are not allowed to pee in the natural way, the way boys have done for generations, it is meddling with God's work," Kleppe told the newspaper.

"It is a human right not to have to sit down like a girl," Kleppe said.

Principal Anne Lise Gjul at Dvergsnes School would not comment on Kleppe's plans to make political waves and regretted if anyone was offended by the ban on standing and passing water.

Gjul told NRK (Norwegian Broadcasting) that the young boys are simply not good enough at aiming, and the point was to have a pleasant toilet that could be used by both boys and girls.

So it wasn't about egalitarianism at all--it was about cleaning up (which, by the way, is why the Mormons have the Word of Wisdom which forbids alcohol, coffe, and tobacco--Joseph Smith's wife was complaining about cleaning up around the spitoons)!

Arrrrrrr!

Okay, I'll give you three guesses at what the unbelieveably cool event I was privvy to attend this weekend. Go ahead... guess... Noooooo, it wasn't the Archaeological Ramifications of the Book of Mormon on Navajo Architecture Symposium--that was sold out MONTHS ago... plus I'm of the belief that the Navajos were influenced more by the Greek gods. Okay, guess again... Nooooo, it wasn't the Non-pasteurized Milk Society's Annual Convention--I wouldn't want to be associated with the crazies that attend THOSE meetings (I had a bad experience at the NpMS meeting in Madison, Wisconsin back in 2003 and haven't been able to eat cheese curds or look at someone in a anatomically correct cow outfit ever since!... Don't ask!)

Okay, you give up? Well, I went to the Portland Pirate's Festival--and boy was it more than I could have dreamed! There were classic pirates, wenches, Johnny Depp-style pirates, British Redcoats, Scottish kilt-wearers, goths, vikings, and preppies (yeah, yeah... the last four have NOTHING to do with pirates, but how often to you have a reason to get dressed up as a viking? and okay, you busted me--the guy dressed up as the preppy was yours truly, and it kinda wasn't a costume.)

Getting in to the festival proved to be more of a lesson in queue-standing. I haven't shuffled from line to line that bad since I was at a church potluck! We waited in line for about 30 minutes to get in, after which I made a mad dash to the bathroom line, where I stood for another 5 minutes. After that close-encounter with the briny deep, I made my way to the food line, which was another 20 minutes or so. FINALLY, after all that, I was ready to see the sights of the festival.

My first stop was an amazing collection of handmade leather jerkins, vests, coats, and belts. I tried on the jerkin and felt like I should take up fencing... well, that or learn how to be a human football. I also got to see a pirate battle, the Redcoats capturing and hanging a pirate, a giant schooner, cannons being fired, and lots and lots of buxom maidens almost SPILLING out of their bustiers! Ahh, pirates... ahh, celebrating pirates... ahh, reveling in lawlessness. Could there BE anything more Portland? I don't think so. (Well, maybe if you could have bought marijuana from one of the voodoo vendors, but as it was it was pretty close to perfectly Portland.) Now I can't wait until next year. I'm going to be so into it I'm considering cutting off one of my legs at the knee so I can convincingly wear a peg leg. THAT'S how excited about this event! In fact I'm so excited by it, I'm totally blowing off the Benedictine Monk Silence Festival that's scheduled on the same day.

Eating meme

Here's a list of five questions I shamelessly stole off a friend's blog (thanks, Trace).

1. Given a choice, and imagining that money and time were no object, would you rather cook dinner, eat out or order in?
This on is a no-brainer. I'm the kind of person who could eat the exact same thing every day--which is largely what I do: bagel with peanut butter washed down with Diet Coke for breakfast, a soft and a crunchy taco (fresco style) from Taco Bell...washed down with Diet Pepsi for lunch, and then some variety for dinner...washed down with Diet Pepsi. So I guess I'd rather eat out, because I can get the exact same thing every day but don't have to clean up after myself--and who's got the energy these days?

2. What is the most elaborate meal you've ever prepared yourself or purchased at a restaurant?
I (with copious help from Margaret) hosted Thanksgiving dinner last year. It was excellent (aside from having to make a new batch of stuffing because we'd left it out the night before and didn't want to poison anyone.) And this time, our stove didn't even electrocute my mom (which it did several Thanksgivings ago!

3. What food do you find yourself making and/or eating way too much?
See answer to Question 1 above.

4. What was your most disastrous cooking/eating out experience?
One time, my six-year-old sister and I were making brownies from a microwave cookbook. We didn't have any chicken eggs, but we did have some turkey eggs. Also, I didn't know that Quik and baking chocolate were two different things. Needless to say, the pan had to be thrown out because we couldn't get the dark brown chocolate brick out of it.

5. Would you rather cook for someone else or have them cook for you?
If I could get away with only having to bake the occasional snickerdoodle and pop microwave popcorn, I would do it in a heartbeat.

New levels of naiveté

Geesh--how could I have been so stupid to trust what an insurance adjuster was telling us about how to settle the accident. I'm off right now to get some last-minute stuff done which I'll elaborate on after it's finished. Needless to say, we evidently have to be as cutthroat as the insurance company is!

Too... much... tv...

Last night, needing to turn our overworked brains off, Margaret and I plopped ourselves down in front of the tv and didn't roll away from it for THREE HOURS! And it wasn't even great tv. We watched the new CBS show "Jericho" about a rural Kansas town that is trying to survive after nuclear attacks hit America's large cities. The only reason we watched it was because the only other viable option was "America's Next Top Model." And our "Work and the Glory: American Zion" DVD is scratched so we couldn't watch it. Dang! After "Jericho" we slothfully sat through the next show, which was laughably ridiculous--and we wouldn't have sit through it had "CSI: New York" not been on right after. And the only reason that was a draw was because we love watching stuff set in New York. Of course the naked couple having sex while bungee jumping pushed the limits of believability a little TOO far!

Once again, we'll have to make a promise to ourselves to not watch as much tv--starting tomorrow, since the "CSI" season premiere is on tonight. Oh, wait, we'll start on Saturday, because Friday has a new show that looks interesting. Oh, scratch that--Simpsons is on Sunday and I can't miss that. Umm, maybe I'll start on Monday...

Loaves and fishes

Yesterday, my work hosted a salmon feed at a local rally and I was responsible for feeding an estimated 400 people! Well, the morning was very rainy, so I assumed that we wouldn't have any problems with the quantity of salmon we had to distribute. Little did I know the event would be so popular--evidently people like salmon! The menu consisted of salmon, potato salad, and bread. The bakery that donated the bread gave us BAGS full--and not bread bags, but those yard debris bags! Well, everything was going fine during set up, but when people actually started lining up for their food, it was quickly evident that there were WAY more than 400 people there. We were frantically serving the salmon as soon as it was cooked. About halfway through we ran out of salad, so all we had to offer was salmon and bread. As the salmon started to run low, someone remarked that we should have invited Jesus, as we were serving fish and bread and he had a history of making do with only that. Alas, after over 500 people had been served we ran out of salmon, and ended up running to a nearby grocery store for hot dogs. Ahh, nothing like going to a salmon rally and getting a free HOT DOG!

I'm just glad it's all over. As it was, I had to rush home afterward for dinner, because the only thing I got to eat the whole time was Diet Pepsi and a crust of bread. Which is pretty much what happened when Margaret and I got married. At the reception, to which we'd invited about 150 people, we ended up with almost 300 guests! The kitchen was frantically bringing out spare food from other events in an effort to feed them all. We were in the greeting line the whole time talking with all the people and, once again, the only thing we had to eat was bread and water. When we went up to our hotel, they'd given us a fruit basket as part of our honeymoon package and we both made a made dash to stuff our faces. Ahh, those memories of our first few hours of marriage!

Dream workplace

I could TOTALLY use this desk at work... you know, so I could watch Simpson's DVDs work-related videos. Yeah, that's the ticket!

Blast from the past

I was just looking for an old file and found my mission journal that I'd transferred to an electronic format. Curious, I looked up today's date to see what I was up to fifteen (FIFTEEN!!!!! Aiieeee!) years ago. Here's the entry:

Today I got a package from mom and a letter from B (my grandmother). Both B and mom cussed me out for asking for a Gameboy, so I guess I'm not getting one for Christmas. Evidently they thought I should using my time more productively. Can you imagine?

I'm just glad that I've learned my lesson in the subsequent 15 years and now would NEVER use my time inappropriately.