We Can Dance Until We Die, You And I, We'll Be Young Forever

Have I said how much I love a good analogy? I love them so much, I often have to pause just so I don't speak completely in them. If pressed, I think I could go three days where at least one out of every three sentences was a metaphor, simile, or part of an anecdotal analogy. And the more rustic the better.

Jared also is a big fan of the metaphor. One time him and I went to eat at Tucanos. If you're unfamiliar with the place, or Brazilian grills in general, then go out at night and pick out a star. It will stop shining because of you. Essentially, they have people bringing you delicious meats on skewers, non-stop. My salivary glands are producing as well. Well, after gorging ourselves, we were walking around trying to remember a fitting metaphor. When we couldn't come up with one, we called his mom. It should be noted his mother was born and raised, and still currently resides in Arkansas. Jared asks her "If you just had a big meal and wanted to say you were full, you would say you're fuller than..." and without a moment's hesitation, she's finishes with "a tic." As though it was the only answer.

These are the lengths I'm willing to go to find a good analogy. So, I was making some brownies today (you ask 'why', I ask 'why not') and before putting the bowl in the sink, I took a long drag with my finger and licked the batter. Even caught a walnut (of course I put walnuts in my brownies). You want to know the first saying that came to mind while enjoying that sweet delight, 'Old bird-dog can still hunt'.

Which got me thinking. What are some of those critical things that I refuse to let go by the wayside? I mean, by all accounts, I have no business licking un-cooked batter. I know what's in it and I certainly know the hazards implied. Doesn't stop me. Doesn't even slow me. It's one of those primal kid-like reflexes that I have managed to retain. Of course, I went on to think of other things that maybe I should have stopped doing, but have no desire to. Here they are:

• Lick cake/brownie/cookie batter from the bowl
• Play that crane game in the walmart* entrance
• Read comic strips like 'Zits' even though I'm probably closer to the parent's age, than the kid's
• Eat ice cream out of a mini baseball helmet (or dippin dots. Marty brought them back from the future)
• Buy a pack of baseball cards. Still do it at least once a year
• Play with anything involving a remote control that isn't a TV
• Cannonball into a pool (I think I'm actually getting worse)
• Try out the baseball speed gun at ballgames
• Consider 3-4 donuts and a glass of milk a well-balanced breakfast (or lunch)
• Turn the radio up when Amy Grant or Paula Abdul come on
• Watch 'Boy Meets World' (just watched the one where Topenga moves to Pittsburgh. It got a little misty around here)
• Use the term 'Dude'
• Walk down the 'Hot Wheel' aisle, and imagine massive track sets designed to launch the car
• Wear black every August 12 (If you don't know why, type 'MLB August 12, 1994' into Google)

In my defense, this list is much shorter than the one I probably could have made two years ago.

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I Dreamt I Was Dreaming I Was Wired To A Clock

10-2, 10-2, 10-2, and 10-2. Those are the regular season records for BYU during the last four seasons. And I'm genuinely afraid we might match those combined eight losses, just this season. We're already at 4, and with TCU and Utah still to play (on the road for both, might I add), that makes 6. Scary isn't it?

What's more scary is that any loss beyond those two disqualifies us for a bowl game. We've made a bowl game every year since 2004, the last of the Gary Crowton years. By the way, since the mission essentially blacked out the 2002 and 2003 seasons for me, I always felt like the BYU faithful turned on him awfully quick. For me, he went 12-1 his first season and everyone loved him. Everyone? Everyone. There were the stories about how he was really gearing the guys up, how he was making the team more unified than ever, how he had the complete respect and trust of all the players. Things looked great. And then next thing I knew he went 5-6 (Who schedules 11 games) and everyone (everyone? Yes, everyone) can't wait to can this guy. Even my friends who had missed the same seasons I had, suddenly thought this guy was at best, on par with a three-year-old. It never made a lot of sense to me. Looking at it historically, I understand why he was canned. You take a program that historically at least makes bowl games and often wins their division, but instead you miss bowl games three out of four years, with the only bowl game being your first year? Yeah, they'll be calling for your head. I understand that. I just never understood why there was so much venom behind it.

What scares me is, what if Jake Heaps isn't the 'next McMahon', and what if Riley Nelson isn't the same after his injury heals? Could the fanbase turn on Bronco? Could all the things that now make people talk about him in Parsegian-esque reverence, become viewed as foibles and weaknesses? I like Bronco. I think he's a fine coach that is facing a tough season from injuries and unforeseen complications (Unga, I'm shaking my head in your direction). The firing of the D-coordinator after last week's loss, while not unjustified, could certainly be viewed as Bronco trying to show that he'll do anything to stay above the fray. The departed claims to be a scapegoat, and I'll co-sign that. He as cut loose after a fourth straight loss. But why not the Offensive coordinator? The Cougs are currently 114th in scoring. There are only 120 teams. While their defense is not spectacular, it is noticeably better (88th). I don't have any solid theories on this, but it does seem interesting.

Either way, I'll be watching the game today. I'll track down some online feed and stream it onto my tiny rock. And if they win, I'll do it again next week. But the second they become bowl-ineligible, that's when I switch to radio only. Except, of course, against Utah. I clear my schedule for two games each year. BYU-Utah and Miami-FSU. And tonight is Miami-FSU. So if you need me tonight, make sure to call me before 8pm. Or be prepared to wait until 11:30.

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And This Is The Moment That I Live For I Can Smell The Ocean Air

There are only so many truly great days a year. Most of them are known a long ways off. I know that every Christmas is going to be fantastic. Any day associated with bite-sized desserts being consumed all day long, relaxing around the house and catching up with family and friends is going to be a very good day. And you can't say enough about a tootsie roll bank.

But today is one that just kind of happened. Among my passions, baseball is far away the chiefest (I guess that really is a word). If you don't know this by now, then I'm genuinely surprised you know how to read. This season was an up and down affair for my beloved White Sox. We started out slow, caught fire right around the all-star break, and then fizzled out as our bats and bullpen failed us. We still had hope with three weeks left, but then we decided to lose 9 straight. Can't really bounce back from that. On the brightside, if you would have told me in April that we would finish with 88 wins, I would have taken it. I also would have assumed that would have been enough to win the AL Central, but this year it wasn't.

Which brings us to one of the reasons why this is a most splendid day. Today starts baseball playoffs. The best of the best, where every game counts. I love it. Every year I look forward to October, primarily for this reason, and this year seems to be excellent. So many great storyline for this year. The Yankees, not only trying to repeat, but to get one for their belated GM Steinbrenner and 'the voice of God' Bob Sheperd, who both passed away earlier this season. The Rays, trying to show that you don't need a 9 figure payroll to win it all. The Rangers, the only team left without a playoff series victory, trying to make a name for themselves. The Twins, pressing forward without former MVP Morneau, proving to their fans that their tax dollars are not being wasted on the new stadium. The Giants, making their first trip back to post-season play since 2003. The Reds, with an even longer stretch of futility, but sporting the most valuable player in Joey Votto and the most electrifying in Aroldis Chapman (105.1 mph? That's insane). The Phillies, fighting to remain among the elite.

But all of those pale in comparison to the Braves. Bobby Cox's boys gave him a gift by grabbing the last playoff spot on the last day of his last season. Now he gets one last shot at the big tamale. His team is spearheaded by youngsters and rookies, and might just have enough momentum to go deep into the month. I'm usually not one to encourage rooting for the Braves because I feel they're partnership with TBS created an unnaturally large fan base. But this year, if you don't already have a horse in this race, feel free to back the Atlanta nine.

Beyond the playoffs though, today starts one of my other passions. The dawning of a new season of MTV Challenges. This year's is a new variant: Cutthroat. Sounds pretty impressive. Personally, they could have named it the mud and I would still watch it tenaciously. And if you aren't watching these shows, then you truly are missing out on one of life's great joys. Hard-core athletic competition, high drama all the time, and beautiful people everywhere. What's not to like? And they're bringing back Chet, the Mormon. He's marginally stronger than the strongest girls, but that doesn't mean I'm pulling for him. I don't think he'll win, unless his team is stacked, but here's to hoping.

Lastly, today is amazing because it's my good friend Raechel's birthday. Congrats. Sorry I can't be there to celebrate with you.

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My Life Gets Kind Of Boring Need Something That I Can Confess

Go a week without seeing the sun.
Think I should let my hair grow out.
Buy a Celine Dion album.
Turn down a dessert.

Those are a few things on my list of: Things I'll never do again. It's not necessarily a Murtaugh list, because I'm not banning them due to old age. I'm banning them because they're just horrible ideas. And now, you can add "Go to a tanning salon" to this list. I visited one of these establishments while I was in Utah. The reasons were obvious. Despite living in the Caribbean, no one short of the Stay-Puft Marshmallow or the Michelin Man were rivaling me in pasty-whiteness. And it wasn't even like I had a farmers tan. I was ghostly from head to toe. On top of this, I knew there was a boating excursion on the weekend, so I figured I should at least put forth an effort to look like I lived in a place where a beach was no farther than 15 minutes away at any point.

So I went to the tanning salon one afternoon. I had been before and remembered that at least once I got a mild sunburn so this time I was just going to do whatever the girl behind the counter said first-timers did. Why I believed that this girl who had been working for only a couple weeks, and really only had to know the subtle differences between the four different types of beds (Who knew they were 4 types? Why is suntan bed research getting funded?) and possibly the lotions prominently displayed, would know the precise service to maximize my results, I'll never know. But I figured whatever her experience was, it was more than mine. So she tells me that for the best returns, the first timers take 7 minutes in the "Ultra" bed. Now, I liked the idea of the Ultra bed because it reminded me of Fleer Ultra baseball cards, which were the coolest when they first came out. I told the girl that that sounds like a plan. She asked if I knew how to use the bed.

Now, I should tell you that the last time I used a tanning bed was a couple years ago. back then, they were simple. You laid down and closed the lid. That's it. This thing felt more like a video game. I had speakers playing radio stations, and could even have plugged in an iPod if I brought it. I had buttons controlling fan speeds. There were different bulbs just for my face, a voice command telling me about the bed, and the plastic was extra wide and ergonomically contoured. I felt like this was the bed that Judy Jetson will likely use to maintain her color. It did everything but ask me if I had been working out lately. (No, I hadn't. However, I have started. No lie.)

I rode out the seven minutes, having cool breezes keeping my brow only slightly damp, while Kenny Chesney told me about the boys of fall. It wasn't bad at all. I still hate those stupid eye things because they feel ridiculous and uncomfortable, but beyond that, a pleasurable experience. Then the next day came. And the sunburn was there. For unknown reasons, only on my left side, but from torso to thigh, I was pink. Not pleased. Thankfully, it wasn't so bad that I was non-functional. But it was a nuisance I had to deal with for the next couple days. Growing up in Florida, getting sunburned was almost a summer tradition. But over the years, I like to think I've gotten smarter and have begun installing impediments. And then I go and do something like this.

Never again. Never.

Word.

What I've Got's Full Stock Of Thoughts And Dreams That Scatter

You want to know what store is amazing? The Apple Store. Not even kidding with you. I spent about an hour or so there today, and it was quite the experience. Outside of Black Friday sales, I have never witnessed the scene I saw walking into the Salt Lake City Apple Store, on a random Monday, at 2pm. For starters, the place is visually impressive. Even though there were dozens of computers and devices on display, with most of them being used, the layout was not oppressive and the crowds were not a hindrance. And despite the fact that nearly everybody in the store was talking at the same time, I could still hear Hall and Oates's classic 'You Make My Dreams Come True' over the speaker system. I can not speak highly enough about this. The staff were plentiful and seemed to be razor sharp. To the point that I honestly believe that none of them really learned on the job. I had the chance to watch at least a dozen people come in with problems, concerns and questions, and at point was any staff member flustered or confounded. Everything was smooth and with a smile. I almost bought an iPad just to reward them on being so great. (Well, that, and the fact that iPad is amazingly cool, but I just can't justify the cost right now).

Now why was I there you ask? It turns out, an iPod is a lot like the wicked witch of the west. You get some water on it, and it's done for. And mine got a lot of water on it. So I spent the morning driving from store to store, each one referring me up the chain until I found myself heading to the Apple Store at the Gateway in Salt Lake. I show up, wait about 45 minutes for an appointment (yes, they have you make an appointment, and I got lucky because one opened up about 10 minutes after I got there. After that one, I was looking at waiting about 2 hours for the next one. So yeah, if you're going there for reasons other than taking in the ambiance, make an appoinment ahead of time. Or clear your afternoon) and after talking with the guy for ten minutes, I'm walking out the door with a fresh replacement. Fantastic. Only in America can you walk into the store with a defective, high-end electronic device, and walk out with a completely new working model the same hour. If I was back on St. Maarten (or whatever is left of it after the hurricane), this would have taken three weeks at least, and about $100 in shipping fees. Here? $20 in gas. Can't beat it.

I do love America.

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Screams From The Haters Got A Nice Ring To It, I Guess Every Superhero Need His Theme Music

America. Oh I love it. Can't get enough of it. When I'm on the rock, I go to Ace Hardware just because it smells like America (freedom mixed with opportunity if you wanted to know). I think McDonald's is something spectacular because I can close my eyes and believe that I'm eating my McNuggets in a place where I don't have to worry whether my change will be in dollars or guilders, or if the power will go out mid-bite, or if I have enough bottled water to brush my teeth and shave. (By the way, shaving with bottled water, ridiculous. I was all lathered up and then the sink runs dry. It was the worst shave ever, until yesterday when I used a single blade disposable. Straight criminal really. 36 hours later, still feeling the burn.)

However, one of the downsides is that there are actual police who actually do their job. And part of their job entails giving me a speeding ticket once a year. I swear to you, it's like clockwork. Every fall since I was 17, barring the mission, I've gotten a speeding ticket. Sometimes two in a fall, but without fail, at least one. I'm in the states for a week and half this fall, driving my car for a little less then a week. Get nailed doing 36 in 25. And that's exactly what it was. Normally when they write you up for 36, you were doing like 44. Nope. I was doing 36. I had just made the corner and was accelerating while sharing a story, and boom I see a cop coming the other way. Look down, just north of the 35 tick mark. Yes, I was breaking the law, but seriously? 36 in a 25? I chalk that up to fate and destiny. This is what happens when you have legit police that actually do their job.

On better notes, there are quality donuts on like every street corner. I feel that if Noah was force to bring one food item on the ark, he would bring bacon, but if he had two he would bring nacho cheese. Donuts would be a close third. They would be followed by tootsie rolls, caramels, and Wingers Sticky Fingers.

Speaking of Sticky Fingers, I'm like 48 hours away from having a belly full of them. And a plate of them in the fridge. And another order grilling in the kitchen. Yep. All over it. You want in on some of this action, bring your A eating game, and holler at me when I get up to Utah on Wednesday evening. Normally I wouldn't post a phone number on the internet, but this number is only active for 4 weeks a year, so who cares. 321-222-8799.

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I Could Use A Dream Or A Genie Or A Wish To Go Back To A Place Much Simpler Than This

Wow, a whole month huh? After I had turned out three in consecutive weeks. I'm sorry. I feel like I got your hopes up for some sort of regular turnaround time, and then completely destroyed it. Truthfully, I hoped to be able to turn one out a week, but I kid you not, this med school stuff ain't no joke.

But I'm not here to talk about that. I'm here because Mike and I made another wager. We make a lot of them. Surprisingly, the one thing we haven't wagered on is girls. I'd love to say it's because we're gentleman and that doing so would be uncouth, but odds are its because we never could think about how to quantify things.

The most recent bet, and one that makes me a little giddy at the prospect of winning, concerns Dustin Pedroia and Robinson Cano. They are the second baseman for the Red Sox and Yankees, respectively. Looking up their stats, aside from this year where Cano has been performing well above his career averages and Pedroia has been on the DL for extended periods of time, Pedroia has been better. By almost every metric. So what's the bet? Who will be better during the 2011 and 2012 seasons? He's got Cano, of course, and I've got Pedroia.

That's the boring stuff. Here's the good stuff. If I'm right, Mike has to refer to Pedroia for an entire year solely as the "2008 AL MVP". He currently refers to him in language that is...colorful. Not tasteless, but I would think twice about using it over the pulpit. I probably would still use it, but that's why I'm not the Elder's Quorum President (which, coincidentally, is the reason I would use it over the pulpit). Additionally, he will have to refer to Cano solely as "Buster Olney's hump buddy". I'm already trying to see if there is a way I can get my hotmail account to send out a message every morning asking him about how Cano and Pedroia did, just so he has to respond using their new names.

Hopefully, I can talk him into making a slapbet. If you're not familiar with this term, go watch How I Met Your Mother, Season 2, Episode "Slapbet". It is worth your 22 minutes. Even if you've never seen an episode of this show, you will find yourself on the floor laughing. Admit it. Just reading the word 'Slapbet', an intrigued smile crept across your face. Check the mirror.

There it is. It is just as good, possibly better, than you imagine it to be.

I wish I had more to say, but I've been hitting the books hard for the past week and will likely continue to do so until after finals on the 17th. You have no reason to expect a post between now and then. However, there'll probably be one during the week after finals. I'm sure something will be worth writing about.

Lastly, going to Florida for a week after finals and then Utah for a week right before coming back for the next semester. Let me know if you'll be in either location.

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