Buffy got an email from Shelle (pronounced Shelly) Solberg (I would have said Schmelle Schmolberg like I normally do, but it kind of sounds like an insult that way), the founder of Let's Play Music--a music curriculum for preschool aged kids, saying that she was coming to our house a week from this Tuesday. Buffy is a teacher of Let's Play Music, and Shelle selects a few teachers around the country to visit. She does this to evaluate the teaching corps and give feedback. It also gives her an idea of where their teacher training modules can improve.
All this excitement of a bona fide quasi-celebrity coming to our house has reminded me of all of the other times I have interacted with quasi-celebrities and/or they have come to my house. The first several of these are actually true.
1. Elizabeth Smart accompanied her roommate to my house and waited in my living room while said roommate had a voice lesson with the Buffy.
2. Julie from MTV's the Real World, remember her? She got kicked out of BYU for living with people of the opposite gender while taping The Real World. She came over to our house to play video games with my roommates. She was at the very pinnacle of her notariety at the time. We (my college roommates and I) were very impressed.
3. Kim Johnson, the former anchor/ reporter for KSL and wife of one of the ousted Olympics guys, came to get her daughter from the house Buffy and I were staying in while we baby sat a family--sans parents, of course. The family included a friend of Kim Johnson's daughter.
4. Wilford Brimley attended a play with me at Shmolympus Schmigh, the school where my sister teaches theatre arts. Our seats were a mere ten or fifteen rows apart.
5. I saw Lisa Bonet at a play in L.A. The show was A Little Night Music that a college friend of mine that we called Elvis was acting in. She is very, very small.
6. Shamu blew his blow-holey salt water all over me at Sea World.
7. Carol Channing stopped by my office to see if I could hang out with her. I took her up on it, and we watched old video tapes of her in Hello Dolly. It was fun.
8. George Peppard (Breakfast at Tiffany's and The A-Team) sucker punched me while I was waiting in line at Splash Mountain at Disney Land. He said that he was mad at some jerk who had called him Hanibal and that he had taken it out on me, "no hard feelings, kid." That's when I round house kicked him to the face.
9. Mike Tyson bit my ear.
10. I hit the Geico lizzard with my car last week.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Thursday, August 19, 2010
A Mormon Boy Singing A Mormon Boy As Sung By A Mormon Boy
Hi,
Ike, my oldest seven-year-old son (he is also my youngest seven-year-old son; he is not, however, my oldest 9-month-old son) was asked to sing this song for a Mormon Channel project called The History of Hymns.
Clive Romney, the program's writer/producer and all-around fantastic guy, just sent us this demo of the vocals. He gave us permission to post it as long as we made it clear that it was the demo version and not the finished version that will be posted on the Mormon Channel.
Some of you will remember President Benson singing this song (except with slightly more vibrado--he was really old at the time).
If you haven't been to the Mormon Channel (the LDS Church's official internet radio station) you can get there by navigating to radio.lds.org . The History of the Hymns is one of the podcasts.
Ike, my oldest seven-year-old son (he is also my youngest seven-year-old son; he is not, however, my oldest 9-month-old son) was asked to sing this song for a Mormon Channel project called The History of Hymns.
Clive Romney, the program's writer/producer and all-around fantastic guy, just sent us this demo of the vocals. He gave us permission to post it as long as we made it clear that it was the demo version and not the finished version that will be posted on the Mormon Channel.
Some of you will remember President Benson singing this song (except with slightly more vibrado--he was really old at the time).
If you haven't been to the Mormon Channel (the LDS Church's official internet radio station) you can get there by navigating to radio.lds.org . The History of the Hymns is one of the podcasts.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Straight Up/Rush, Rush/Marry Me Boy/Cold-Hearted Snake
Have you ever pulled up to a traffic light and noticed that your radio’s volume is too loud?
And then, have you looked to the side and noticed that someone in the car next to you is looking at you, you assume, because your radio is too loud?
And then, have you realized that they are looking at you with a surprised expression, you assume, because of the song that you are listening to?
And then, was the song that you are listening to Paula Abdul’s Opposites Attract?
And, is the year 2010?
And then, have you quickly turned down the radio and shrunk down in your seat a little and awkwardly waited for the two-and-a-half infinities to pass until the light changes?
And then, does the car that was next to you follow you all the way to the circle you live on?
And, is there a good reason that the car follows you home?
And, is that reason because the driver of the car is your neighbor from across the street?
And, have you never spoken to that neighbor even though you’ve meant to and even though you’ve been neighbors for three-and-a-half years?
That may or may not have happened to me recently.
And then, have you looked to the side and noticed that someone in the car next to you is looking at you, you assume, because your radio is too loud?
And then, have you realized that they are looking at you with a surprised expression, you assume, because of the song that you are listening to?
And then, was the song that you are listening to Paula Abdul’s Opposites Attract?
And, is the year 2010?
And then, have you quickly turned down the radio and shrunk down in your seat a little and awkwardly waited for the two-and-a-half infinities to pass until the light changes?
And then, does the car that was next to you follow you all the way to the circle you live on?
And, is there a good reason that the car follows you home?
And, is that reason because the driver of the car is your neighbor from across the street?
And, have you never spoken to that neighbor even though you’ve meant to and even though you’ve been neighbors for three-and-a-half years?
That may or may not have happened to me recently.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
My Three Sisters
I have three sisters. Cute, funny, passionate, and kooky sisters. I love them. They make-a-me happy. They are protective, loving, and encouraging people. Recently, a group at BYU did a study on sisters. Here is the write up:
Sisters give siblings better mental health, study shows
New research also shows loving siblings promote good deeds more than loving parents
USA Today
CNN
Something about having a sister – even a little sister – makes 10- to 14-year-olds a bit less likely to feel down in the dumps.
That’s one of several intriguing findings from a new study on the impact siblings have on one another. Brigham Young University professor Laura Padilla-Walker is the lead author on the research, which also sorts out the influence of siblings and the influence of parents within families.
“Even after you account for parents’ influence, siblings do matter in unique ways,” said Padilla-Walker, who teaches in BYU’s School of Family Life. “They give kids something that parents don’t.”
Padilla-Walker’s research stems from BYU’s Flourishing Families Project and will appear in the August issue of the Journal of Family Psychology. The study included 395 families with more than one child, at least one of whom was an adolescent between 10 and 14 years old. The researchers gathered a wealth of information about each family’s dynamic, then followed up one year later. Statistical analyses showed that having a sister protected adolescents from feeling lonely, unloved, guilty, self-conscious and fearful. It didn’t matter whether the sister was younger or older, or how far apart the siblings were agewise.
Brothers mattered, too. The study found that having a loving sibling of either gender promoted good deeds, such as helping a neighbor or watching out for other kids at school. In fact, loving siblings fostered charitable attitudes more than loving parents did. The relationship between sibling affection and good deeds was twice as strong as that between parenting and good deeds.
“For parents of younger kids, the message is to encourage sibling affection,” said Padilla-Walker. “Once they get to adolescence, it’s going to be a big protective factor.”
Many parents justifiably worry about the seemingly endless fighting between siblings. The study found hostility was indeed associated with greater risk of delinquency. Yet Padilla-Walker also sees a silver lining in the data: The fights give children a chance to learn how to make up and to regain control of their emotions, skills that come in handy down the road.
“An absence of affection seems to be a bigger problem than high levels of conflict,” Padilla-Walker said.
BYU professor James Harper and BYU graduate Alex Jensen are co-authors on the new study. Jensen, now a Ph.D. candidate at Purdue, also co-authored the 2009 study showing a link between video games and poor relationships.
End of quote.
I hadn't thought of it before reading this write up, but there is something special about sisters and their ability to calm souls. We won't mention their ability to wreak havoc while smelling lovely (i.e., not actually reeking).
I'm not sure how else I would have learned about certain things like eyelash curlers or boondoggle. Who would have called me Ricky or Richie? (Of course, Mom always called me Skickie, which is the tandem pairing of my older brother's name with mine).
Who else would have forced me to sing in front of an audience for the first time? Who else would have let me live with her in her family's basement? Who else would know what "Shishcago, shiscago, a grogan grah, a grahgen grow" means? Who? None of you I assure you, unless you are one of my sisters.
I knew I loved and appreciated my sisters, but I had no idea that during my time as an adolescent boy that they were there bouying me up, helping me to feel good about myself and safe and welcome. Schmathie, Schmobin, Schmana, I love you.
Sisters give siblings better mental health, study shows
New research also shows loving siblings promote good deeds more than loving parents
USA Today
CNN
Something about having a sister – even a little sister – makes 10- to 14-year-olds a bit less likely to feel down in the dumps.
That’s one of several intriguing findings from a new study on the impact siblings have on one another. Brigham Young University professor Laura Padilla-Walker is the lead author on the research, which also sorts out the influence of siblings and the influence of parents within families.
“Even after you account for parents’ influence, siblings do matter in unique ways,” said Padilla-Walker, who teaches in BYU’s School of Family Life. “They give kids something that parents don’t.”
Padilla-Walker’s research stems from BYU’s Flourishing Families Project and will appear in the August issue of the Journal of Family Psychology. The study included 395 families with more than one child, at least one of whom was an adolescent between 10 and 14 years old. The researchers gathered a wealth of information about each family’s dynamic, then followed up one year later. Statistical analyses showed that having a sister protected adolescents from feeling lonely, unloved, guilty, self-conscious and fearful. It didn’t matter whether the sister was younger or older, or how far apart the siblings were agewise.
Brothers mattered, too. The study found that having a loving sibling of either gender promoted good deeds, such as helping a neighbor or watching out for other kids at school. In fact, loving siblings fostered charitable attitudes more than loving parents did. The relationship between sibling affection and good deeds was twice as strong as that between parenting and good deeds.
“For parents of younger kids, the message is to encourage sibling affection,” said Padilla-Walker. “Once they get to adolescence, it’s going to be a big protective factor.”
Many parents justifiably worry about the seemingly endless fighting between siblings. The study found hostility was indeed associated with greater risk of delinquency. Yet Padilla-Walker also sees a silver lining in the data: The fights give children a chance to learn how to make up and to regain control of their emotions, skills that come in handy down the road.
“An absence of affection seems to be a bigger problem than high levels of conflict,” Padilla-Walker said.
BYU professor James Harper and BYU graduate Alex Jensen are co-authors on the new study. Jensen, now a Ph.D. candidate at Purdue, also co-authored the 2009 study showing a link between video games and poor relationships.
End of quote.
I hadn't thought of it before reading this write up, but there is something special about sisters and their ability to calm souls. We won't mention their ability to wreak havoc while smelling lovely (i.e., not actually reeking).
I'm not sure how else I would have learned about certain things like eyelash curlers or boondoggle. Who would have called me Ricky or Richie? (Of course, Mom always called me Skickie, which is the tandem pairing of my older brother's name with mine).
Who else would have forced me to sing in front of an audience for the first time? Who else would have let me live with her in her family's basement? Who else would know what "Shishcago, shiscago, a grogan grah, a grahgen grow" means? Who? None of you I assure you, unless you are one of my sisters.
I knew I loved and appreciated my sisters, but I had no idea that during my time as an adolescent boy that they were there bouying me up, helping me to feel good about myself and safe and welcome. Schmathie, Schmobin, Schmana, I love you.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
If a story falls in the woods and no one reads it, is it actually a story?
Hi, all,
I was just reflecting on something I have been feeling recently. You see, I have been writing a novel for the last year. It's nearly half way done and now I am beginning to think about how I would go about getting it published and marketed.
Here is a link if you'd like to read an excerpt from the first chapter.
http://tinyurl.com/2cugxwm
The fact is I have struggled with wanting to share my stories and songs with people, but I have held back because I hate annoying people. I don't want to be one of those pushy people pushing their pushiness on push, push, push.
I've literally written dozens of songs and tens of thousands of words. There are 12 Christmas stories that revisit the nativity, there is the musical about two people in a coma who fall in love, there is the half written play about the rich guy who wants to be a superhero so he hires a nemesis, there are essays about relationships, there is this blog, there are lots of songs about lots of things like the pantsing of boys and the love of a good woman (not in the same song, although I like the idea).
So, I can't help asking my self, what am I supposed to do with it all?
Most of it I've written for my (and my mom's) own enjoyment. But, if a story falls in the woods and no one reads it, is it really a story? And, if I brought people into the woods to read, would they become nervous that I'm inviting them into the woods to hack them up, horror film style?
In other words, it may be that all of my work stinks. And I'm nervous about that.
I'm also kind of needy. I want constant approval and positive feedback, and undoubtedly someone will not like what I've written (that make-a-me sad).
Ah well, dream big or try tomorrow.
I was just reflecting on something I have been feeling recently. You see, I have been writing a novel for the last year. It's nearly half way done and now I am beginning to think about how I would go about getting it published and marketed.
Here is a link if you'd like to read an excerpt from the first chapter.
http://tinyurl.com/2cugxwm
The fact is I have struggled with wanting to share my stories and songs with people, but I have held back because I hate annoying people. I don't want to be one of those pushy people pushing their pushiness on push, push, push.
I've literally written dozens of songs and tens of thousands of words. There are 12 Christmas stories that revisit the nativity, there is the musical about two people in a coma who fall in love, there is the half written play about the rich guy who wants to be a superhero so he hires a nemesis, there are essays about relationships, there is this blog, there are lots of songs about lots of things like the pantsing of boys and the love of a good woman (not in the same song, although I like the idea).
So, I can't help asking my self, what am I supposed to do with it all?
Most of it I've written for my (and my mom's) own enjoyment. But, if a story falls in the woods and no one reads it, is it really a story? And, if I brought people into the woods to read, would they become nervous that I'm inviting them into the woods to hack them up, horror film style?
In other words, it may be that all of my work stinks. And I'm nervous about that.
I'm also kind of needy. I want constant approval and positive feedback, and undoubtedly someone will not like what I've written (that make-a-me sad).
Ah well, dream big or try tomorrow.
Monday, July 12, 2010
Reunion reuined, and all is well.
Hi, y'all,
The reunion that I was in charge of is now in the books. The title of the book: Boring Reunions: One Man's Quest to Make His Family Hate Him, Volume 18. I'm just kidding, it turned out fine.
The South Pavilion at the stake ball field turned out fine too. The week before--on the July 4th weekend, to be exact--an errant firework started a grass fire on the north end of the field. So there was a large part of that side of the field that was black and scorched. This was okay, because our family was on the south side and the snobby family who had planned ahead and booked the nicer pavilion, probably in January, had no where to play (stupid north-end family--their name was Schminckley, as in Schmordan Schmee Schminckley, but I don't think they were related so I am cavalierly making fun).
The fire was also serendipitous because it had clued the Facilities Management group into the fact that they had not watered the field at all that summer (the fact that the grass was completely dead hadn't rung a bell, I guess). So the grass got one week of water before we got there. In the shady spots it was starting to green up.
If I'm being honest, Aushwitz may have had better facilities. But, I am quite sure our outcomes were better.
The reunion that I was in charge of is now in the books. The title of the book: Boring Reunions: One Man's Quest to Make His Family Hate Him, Volume 18. I'm just kidding, it turned out fine.
The South Pavilion at the stake ball field turned out fine too. The week before--on the July 4th weekend, to be exact--an errant firework started a grass fire on the north end of the field. So there was a large part of that side of the field that was black and scorched. This was okay, because our family was on the south side and the snobby family who had planned ahead and booked the nicer pavilion, probably in January, had no where to play (stupid north-end family--their name was Schminckley, as in Schmordan Schmee Schminckley, but I don't think they were related so I am cavalierly making fun).
The fire was also serendipitous because it had clued the Facilities Management group into the fact that they had not watered the field at all that summer (the fact that the grass was completely dead hadn't rung a bell, I guess). So the grass got one week of water before we got there. In the shady spots it was starting to green up.
If I'm being honest, Aushwitz may have had better facilities. But, I am quite sure our outcomes were better.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
She...Could...Go...All...The...Way!
Hi everyone.
I have one quick anecdote I'd like to share. I have a daughter named Kitty (names have been changed). She's two. Cute as a bug. A cute bug. Strike that, let me start again. Unlike bugs, she is cute.
A few weeks ago I sat in Sunday School with the other adults of the Schmimerron Schmecond Schmard, when a guy sitting next to me tapped my knee and gave me the "look over there" head nod. I began to turn. Before I was able to focus on what my attention was being directed to, I heard:
"BOO YAH!"
The "Boo Yah!" was delivered in a recognizable elvin-munchkin tone, the voice of my daughter--Kitty.
The adults of the Schmimerron Schmecond Schmard erupted in laughter. The sports term, circa 1999, had come from the kazoo-like voice of my two-year-old. Although we have no idea where she picked up the phrase (probably from watching old Stuart Scott SportCenters), she had recently begun to use it as a way of announcing her emergence from sleep, and now--with her nursery teacher in tow and in front of all--she announced her need to use potty facilities with the same exclamation.
All I have to say is the similarly dated, "you go (little) girl!"
I have one quick anecdote I'd like to share. I have a daughter named Kitty (names have been changed). She's two. Cute as a bug. A cute bug. Strike that, let me start again. Unlike bugs, she is cute.
A few weeks ago I sat in Sunday School with the other adults of the Schmimerron Schmecond Schmard, when a guy sitting next to me tapped my knee and gave me the "look over there" head nod. I began to turn. Before I was able to focus on what my attention was being directed to, I heard:
"BOO YAH!"
The "Boo Yah!" was delivered in a recognizable elvin-munchkin tone, the voice of my daughter--Kitty.
The adults of the Schmimerron Schmecond Schmard erupted in laughter. The sports term, circa 1999, had come from the kazoo-like voice of my two-year-old. Although we have no idea where she picked up the phrase (probably from watching old Stuart Scott SportCenters), she had recently begun to use it as a way of announcing her emergence from sleep, and now--with her nursery teacher in tow and in front of all--she announced her need to use potty facilities with the same exclamation.
All I have to say is the similarly dated, "you go (little) girl!"
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