hitting the road

Everything we own is outside in a big yellow truck. We are packed and ready. My back is aching! After the glorious upgrade to the fancier truck, the load went smoothly--especially with the help from the four Bonanza men who helped us intricately place each item in its place.

Tomorrow's destination: Vega, Texas (9 hours from Tucson as the crow flies)

Thursday's destination: Springfield, MO (with a stop in Oklahoma City for lunch at Toby Keith's "I Love This Bar And Grill." (8 hours)

Friday we pull into Champaign after a stop in St. Louis at the ever-famous Arch. (6.5 hours).

We're only supposed to go 55 in the truck since we are pulling a trailer so it's gonna take us a bit longer.

There should be good Champaign folk to help up unpack when arrive.

See you when we get there.

Can't resist (but don't miss the new post below, too!)

just stumbled on this...

In my opinion, this is one of the best reasons I can think of to continue the pursuit of good music. Soooo pretty. Iron & Wine is my favorite.



And if you like bearded men singing tender songs, try "Golden" by My Morning Jacket:



This, by far, has been my song of the year. This has crummy video--just close your eyes and listen.

When we get to Illinois...

This has been the Stone catchphrase of late--our little "somewhere over the rainbow." I think the feeling of a fresh start isn't without some attention getting merit though. While I imagine that most areas of our life will remain the same when we get to our new destination, who's to say that a few things can't get better?

So, here's my list of what I hope does, if fact, get better:

1. My cooking. Life in the heartland should provide easier access to fresh fruits and vegetables--some of them perhaps even self-grown. I also plan on purchasing our first gas grill very soon after we arrive. We have gone FAR too long not to have one. The truth is, I guess, that it's just too darn hot to spend time outside grilling in AZ.

2. Exercise. Being at school everyday has one major health benefit for me: easy and free access to the University gym and pool. I swam almost every day that I was at school last year during my final coursework semester at ASU. I can do it again!

3. My guitar playing. I haven't written a new song in over two years. It's time to get cracking again. Being away from Jon Thwaits, my musical muse, will be tough. I will have to find new motivations for writing and also want to spend time adding popular music to my repertoire. How fun is it to have a guitar player in your midst if he doesn't know any familiar songs?

4. Being outdoors, in general. The AZ heat really sentences us, as mentioned above, to our houses. Tina and I have big plans for family walks and trips to the nearby parks.

5. Disciplined study of both intellectual pursuits and new hobbies. (This one speaks for itself--though "new hobbies" is fairly nebulous, I realize. Let's just say I bought a bird watching book last week. Who knows if that will stick, but I find within the birding hobby a great metaphor for all knowledge inquiry: the more we pay attention to, and seek to become familiar with the details that are already right before our eyes, the better accustomed we will be to knowledge acquisition in general. Midwest = pretty birds, am I right?).

As I think of anymore, I'll keep adding them. I should mention also that we use this phase to keep our kids excited as well. As far as Seth is concerned, Illinois is the land of milk and honey.

in the queue

When Jon T. and I were working on the material that would become the electronic iteration of our ongoing music project, I suggested we call ourselves "the Queue." I loved that it was both a word with a legitimate meaning and, of course, a letter. How many other letters can lay such a claim? (Ok, after some thought on the matter, it turns out that a whole bunch of them can: A, B, C, I, J, O, P, R, T, U, Y). But, it just seemed cool to me. Our music projects, in their various forms, have always had creative names, I think. Only Anything became U.F.O.A on our second self-produced album. Some time after that, we moved to "Lotham Scooter" which was reference to a cartoon show that Jon literally dreampt about. When I returned home from my mission, we started playing funkier tunes and called ourselves the New Moves. Which later became, ever so briefly Jonathan Marvel and the New Moves. Eventually, our electronica days became "Lancaster" after the street in Tucson where the Richins boys lived. But I still think about the Q. Maybe one day I'll go solo and call myself the Queue--people would probably line up to see me play. ;)

Anyway, I was writing to say that I have had this huge blog in the queue for over a week now about my summer reading and its general slack, but have had some trouble with the journaling software that I was using to write it. I wanted a journal that I could use on my laptop that could sync up with Blogger so that I could have a place to collect both my public and private writing. That way I would have an easy option for moving entries deemed share-worthy to my public forum. Alas, on the night I spent the most time trying to get the sync to work, the software failed and my ready-to-post blog was lost.

So, you'll have to wait a few more days for that. In the meantime, my I suggest that you dust off your old journal and put it back by the side of your bed? Consider this quote from Brenda Ueland (a probably very smart person that I have never heard of, yet whom was quoted by a smart academic person's blog I read [deep breath])

"We have come to think that duty should come first. Duty should be a byproduct. WRITING, the creative effort, should come first -- at least for some part of every day of your life. It is a wonderful blessing if you will use it. You will become happier, more enlightened, alive, impassioned, light-hearted and generous to everybody else. Even your health will improve."

Writing = good health. yay! So even this arguably pointless post did something for me. Sweet.

Maryn's Second

Here is a great picture of Maryn on her birthday last week--darn, TWO weeks ago. Check the website soon for more...

Fighting in the Google-ution

This afternoon marked the first Tucson rainstorm of the summer. As is typical during monsoon season, the day started off sunny and hot—barely a cloud in the sky. At around 3pm, the sky turned gray and it rained. Boy did it rain. I went outside for a few minutes and watched it. Smelt it. There is nothing like the smell of desert rain.

Summer has been chaotic. The accommodations have been fine. Sleeping at John’s house has been really fun—a treat to be sure. Ironically, we haven’t spent as much time together in the past years that we have lived so close. The three nights a week in Gilbert with the Heidenreich’s are somehow like nights 15 years ago we spent in “the fort.” I’m glad to be back in the fort—but also like then, the fort’s not home.

The feeling is similar at the Bertoglio’s house. We love being near Grandma and Papa. They are so sweet. But alas, it’s not home. I’m anxious to get on. To be home—even though home is now miles and miles away.

***

That said, I have to mention the little revolution I am having in web-land. Slowly—very slowly-- but surely I am learning how to actually use computers and the Internet. I know that sounds silly, especially to those who know how much time I spend in front of the screen. But I imagine that it is like they say about our brain. Most of us only use a small percent of it. In the past few weeks, I discovered that Google is much more than just a search engine. It started a month or so ago when Nick showed me what an RSS feed was. I know, I know. Get with it. For those of you who, as I was, aren’t with it either, an RSS feed is basically a text broadcast that your blogs give. RSS feeds are also broadcast from popular websites that you might visit—especially ones that are updated regularly like daily news or entertainment sites.

Anyway, there are a lot of things you can do with an RSS feed. I played with them first as a part of my web browser’s tool bar. The idea is that you can see, for example, if a blog has been updated with out actually visiting the blog—your indicator announces the new blog title and you can click it as a link to read the blog in full.

So that’s an RSS feed. Then I started messing around with some of the Google tools that I had heard a little about. I downloaded Google Desktop for my work computer (a cool tool if you have a lot of RAM… my home computer couldn’t handle it). At it's core, Desktop is a search tool. If you install it, you can run "google" searches for stuff on your hard drive and on the web. Desktop includes “Gadgets”—basically “Widgets” , if you are familiar with Yahoo's fun desktop tools. One of the Gadgets is an RSS feed tool—but this one is more fancy. When you click the title, a window pops out and you can read the blog update right there—without visiting the webpage. Cool.

This is getting a bit long winded… basically it all led me to a cool tool that Google offers called Google Reader. Google Reader is pretty much the coolest thing I have seen on the web for a long time. Imagine that every blog you read is an email, and every time that someone posts something new, Google Reader collects it, indicates to you of its newness and then puts it on the screen for you. So if Nick, Michelle and Brandon all have a new post on the same day, all you have to do is be watching on Reader and you can read each of them in the same location, one right after the other. Oh--and I forgot to mention that Reader and all of the things I mention below are accessed with your gmail login (gmail is also, of course, made by Google).

This tool may be a bit impractical if you only read a few blogs—but wait, there’s more! As you surf the web, you will see the little RSS feed button all over the place. You can add page after page to your Reader and save yourself from having to click through all the links you have in your bookmarks. I have added feeds from all of the news sites that I read, all of the entertainment and art/design sites that I frequent, I have even gone looking for new blogs that I might just want to read. It’s so easy to read them—I am anxious to learn, see, discover.

You can tell I am pretty excited. Reader is pretty sweet. But it's not the only great tool. You can also individualize Google’s news site. See that "Individualize this page" button? Click it and go crazy. By using key word searches, I can search for any article being published on the web with the following (or any other) words: Champaign-Urbana, Street Art, University of Illinois. It’s really cool.

Picassa is another awesome tool by Google. This one is used both to organize the pictures you have on your computer and also publish them to the web. If you are tired of your computer’s picture organizing software (I am thinking of you Michelle), check it out.

Finally, you can use all of these tools on a personalized Google homepage called iGoogle.

So there’s a big commercial for you. Enjoy.

Suburbian Warp Zone

Opportunities for art are everywhere.

Experimental Post

So, I have never actually posted video to this blog before and thought that I might try today. As such, I am posting a video about a piece of Kinetic Sculpture--though I thought at first what appears in the video was computer generated, I am now quite positive that it is, as it appears to be in the film: manufactured.




Did it! It took a minute to figure out how, but I am on it now. More to come.

A piano, a guitar and 10,000 screaming fans

Last night Tina and I attended a concert together as a special anniversary treat. John Mayer was the name on the ticket, but we were also there for our old favorite Ben Folds and his current band. It was a great show and a wonderful time with my sweet wife who is currently working so hard in Tucson. But before my thorough analysis…

I must begin this blog by mentioning a sentiment of Tina’s that I share. During the half hour break between the two groups, she reminisced about the feeling of excitement that going to concerts used to give her. I remember those days—we would wait and wait for a show and when that day finally arrived, man-oh-man. Concerts that we wanted to go to were usually in Phoenix back in those days, and it’s almost like it was better that way for us Tucsonans. Driving up and back from the show was a big part of the fun. I remember, distinctly, sitting in the back of Marisa Henderson’s old convertible on the way home from my very first concert: Lollapalooza 1994. My ears were ringing and there was a melancholy smile on my face. I had just seen the Smashing Pumpkins. IN PERSON. And now it was over. I remember thinking that that summer day was, to that point, the best day in my life so far. That’s how dramatic it was. And it didn’t end there—I was hooked. My friends and I perfected the art of concert going. Later, we would fill every seat in John Heidenreich’s old Brown van and head off to see Weezer or No Doubt or Weezer again (I think we went to Phoenix to see Weezer on at least three occasions). We would show up early so as to secure our spot at the front of the general admission crowd and would be the last to leave the concert hall—just incase the band decided to come out and play one last song. We would often hang around the tour buses afterwards with hopes to meet the band, and on several occasions we did! I have Rivers Cuomo’s signature from three separate meetings. John and I snuck back stage and met Gwen Stefani and No Doubt; we met the members of the now defunct that dog., and I even was invited on stage with them at one show we went to. Those were good, good times.

Concerts in adulthood just don’t have the same affect on us anymore. I am fairly sure that if I added them all up, since returning from San Francisco in ‘99 I have been to twice the concerts I had been to as a teenager. But it would take me a while to sit and figure it out because I really don’t remember a lot of the shows that I have been to in the last eight years that clearly. There just isn’t that intense happiness that accompanies them anymore like theirwas in the days of yore. So, last night we mourned a bit over the loss of our childhood. As we approach 30, had three kids at a babysitter, and had to come to grips with going back to work the next morning, we were reminded (again) that the gap is getting larger.

But we still had a great time. We got to the Jobing.com arena (the lamest name for a venue since Cricket pavilion) during what I determined today to be Ben Fold’s first song, Gone (it killed me that we could have missed some of his set). The strangest thing about seeing a band you really really like (and readers of this blog know how much I love Ben) open for a different, much bigger band. In other words, they are definitely not the main event, and you can tell because everybody is sitting down. In fact, it is safe to say that a majority of the audience didn’t know who he was until late in his set when he played Brick. “Ohhhh,” the 8500 people who were there solely for John Mayer must have thought at once, “THAT is who this guy is!”

So we found our way down to our 12th row seats (Tina had forgotten that we had such great seats—which was fun. “We’re on the floor! Awesome!”). And sat there amongst all the John Mayer fans and belted along with Ben Folds as he sang. After the first song, the 50 year old guy that was sitting next to me said, sensing my enthusiasm, “Who is this guy?” So Ben Folds rocked the house and I sat there politely tapping my foot, every inch of me wanting to get up and shake my bootie. He played some favorites, including some great songs from the “five” days: All You Can Eat, Not the Same, Kate, Narcolepsy, 1 Angry Dwarf and 200 Solemn faces, and a cover of Postal Service’s Some Great Heights come to mind at the moment. He had some songs where he added in some synth happiness—and I think I read somewhere that he is going to be using that synthesizer more on his next album. In classic Ben Folds potty humor, he mentioned studying up on the internet a very low frequency at which when felt/heard at a high enough volume, caused the listener to loose control of his bowels. He then played a note/frequency a few pitches above that note. As you might imagine, it’s a myth. But a funny myth, wouldn’t you say?

Ben Folds was over too quickly. The only Ben Folds t-shirt you could buy was a brown one that had the words “I ♥ Ben Folds” in the “I ♥ New York” fashion, except that over the white lettering, it had this alteration in red: “I ♥’d Ben Folds before he sucked” That pretty much summed up why he is the coolest dude ever.

The John Mayer show was what you might expect. Mayer is such an amazing guitarist. Maybe I will expand on this in some future blog, but the guy has one of the classiest careers in the biz (did I just say biz?). You gotta hand it to someone who has had so much commercial success, but yet remains so authentic and true to himself. Both times I have seen John Mayer (the other you can read about here), this sense of authenticism was the most palpable feeling present. The guy is just talented and can write a sweet melody to boot. You can take a look at the set list for last night’s show here. The highlights for me were “Bigger than My Body” and “Gravity.” Plus, unlike Tina, I LOVE all the jams and jam he did.

Watching crowds at concerts is fun. Next time you go to one, look around at how the people are behaving. A lot of people are like you, they are into it—dancing around a bit—definitely singing along. And then there are the folks who are REALLY into it. I saw a few of these fans during last night’s show. These are the fans that are SO into it, you have to ask yourself, “are they really into it or are they just into being into it?” There were these two girls who fit this description. Here’s how you can tell. During every song, they don’t actually look at the artist playing. They look at each other, hands in the air, dancing, singing every word to each other (as if to say, “we know every word to this song—and we know it TOGETHER!”). Then, in between songs, when there is a chance that John Mayer might be looking in their direction, they swoon for him—reach toward him, even though they are way too far away—like 100 feet and 45 degrees up—to touch him. So that was fun/pathetic to watch.

Final thoughts? I can’t wait to see Ben Folds in a crowd full of Ben Folds fans again. Then you know it will be me showing everyone I know EVERY WORD and reaching toward the stage, hoping to catch Ben’s eye, if only for a moment. Maybe I’ll wear a tube-top.

From Amoeba to Canyons Grand (Now with pictures!)

Prius count 150 (they are EVERYWHERE in Berkeley. Go figure.)

I suppose I should get on with it. Though it is starting to feel a bit ludicrous. Any blogging of our trip at this point promise to be nostalgic ramblings at most--yet I proceed.

Before I get on with our visit with Tina's aunt, I should mention one other thing from the night in San Francisco. After we returned from Jeff and Millan's house, the kids went down, but we had by then nearly a week's worth of dirty laundry to do. I was commissioned with the task to go out and find a place to do it and so I ventured out.

I knew it wouldn't be difficult to find a laundromat. Doing one's laundry outside of the home is fairly common in San Francisco, as you might imagine. So I went out and found one. I bring it up tonight because of all of the moments in San Francisco, this one felt most like my memories. I was not, for that moment, just a visiting tourist. I was a part of the landscape again, a resident. I had a nice conversation with the Filipino man who ran the place. I wondered if I had arrived too late to be able to finish drying my loads. He assured me that he always stays until the last load is done, even if it is posted that the place closes at ten. He was very friendly and added to the feeling of home. I enjoyed that night and my clothes weren't stinky anymore as a result of it.

So, Berkeley. We arrived in the early evening, around 5. Tricia was due to be off at work around then, so in order to give her some time to get home and situated, I was able to talk Tina into letting me quickly peruse the Amoeba records that I knew to be near the University. With some over-the-phone directions from Tricia, we quickly found it and I ran up the street to get to it while Tina nursed Jonas and the kids watched Peter Pan for the 9th time. I

It's likely that you, the reader, have never been to Amoeba and so for your sake, I will briefly try to describe it to you. Imagine the biggest, coolest used record store you have ever been in. Maybe you are picturing Zia records in Tucson or perhaps some other similar radical used record store in your city. Now imagine the record store you have in your mind's mother. Amoeba is the mother of all record stores. It is what a used record store might, in it's wildest dreams hope to be like someday. I don't mean to be unclear here. What makes Amoeba so awesome, isn't actually it's size. It is quite large--but not as large as some Tower records I have been in. What makes Amoeba records so awesome, no matter which of its three locations you are in (San Francisco, Berkeley, Hollywood) is the dueling power of its selection and prices. It has everything you could ever want and then several things you never knew existed that when you see them you want them too. It also has amazing prices. For example: While walking past the Vs I happened to see Veruca Salt--an old favorite. Tina has become quite a fan of Nina Gordon, one of the founding members of VS. I glanced over and noticed that Nina had released a second solo album that I was unaware of. How much might that go for, I asked myself. $6.99. Done deal. Amoeba has a whole section of discs that are $2.99 and under. Do I really need that old Stone Temple Pilots album that has all their hits on it? Not really. Can I pass it up for $1.99? Nope. Needless to say, I went a little wild. I left the store with no less than 7 new/used discs. While waiting in line, I noticed a sign that said that students get a 10% discount. Can this place give any more love? 7 discs, a mere $40.

After a minor scolding for being gone longer than expected (time flies...) we were off to Aunt Tricia's house. Her house, that she shares with boyfriend Jordan, is just amazing. Its like one of those houses that you see from the outside and think, "gosh, can this be as beautiful inside as it is on the outside?" It is. And on a clear day, you can see both bridges, the City, Alcatraz, Treasure Island--basically the whole Bay Area, from their large living room windows. And not only was the atmosphere unbeatable, the company of Tricia and Jordan was exquisite. They are such great people and were so nice and accommodating of our horde. Tricia seemed to have endless patience with our kids and had dozens of books and toys for them to play with. Jordan helped me solve a complex tech problem I was having and didn't seem to mind too much when I thanked him for being a smarty-pants.

The next day (Prius count 175), this hospitality was extended when Tricia spent two hours (plus) in her cute cup-cakery with the kids. Letting them decorate, and help bake cupcakes for the store (all while I waited to have a screw in my tire repaired in downtown Berkeley--i should also mention that it was downtown that I found the cable I needed for my laptop and bought it. Finally.). We parted ways at last and were off for one final hurrah in San Francisco. After stopping briefly at a toy store, we cruised across the Bay bridge one last time and into the heart of the city. We stopped in China Town and looked around for cheap t-shirts but only found roasted geese hanging in the window and a wide assortment of dried fish in cardboard boxes. We then drove out to the Mission district (one of my old haunts) and stopped at my favorite taqueria at 24th and Mission st. for an amazing burrito (but not before Tina scored some shoes at the Sketchers outlet, and we also found the kids their t-shirts and me an awesome, four dollar cap). While eating said burrito and thinking to ourselves "this is the only burrito that I have ever eaten that bests the conveyor-belt happiness that is Chipotle", we cruised through the city, sad to be leaving so soon, towards the Golden Gate.

We crossed the Bridge, and drove through beautiful Marin towards Sonoma county and Petaluma where we had a dinner date with John and Kim Kai and co. The drive was somber and golden. I had forgotten how quickly luxurious bustle gives way to cow and field. They were a welcomed sight. We met up with John and Kim--our first visit with them for seven years--and got reacquainted with them and their now quite large and grown up family. John, a man I met tracting on my mission, is currently his ward's Elder's Quorum President. Nothing much sweeter than that, I must say. They took us out for dinner and our kids played and we visited and reminisced. I wish we could see them every month.

We didn't make it to the KOA north of Petaluma until around 10pm. We quickly set up the tent and get settled. Only downer of the whole day: I paid for electricity at the campsite and all we got was a hook-up for RV electricity. This is a picture I took in the morning.



***
I was tempted to quit there for the night, and you must certainly be tired of reading by now. But, there is only one more California day to go and it is a short day, so let's be done with it, shall we?

The last day of our California trip was spent down in Sausalito taking a few touristy pictures of the magnificent Golden Gate Bridge and then in Mill Valley for lunch. These were both areas that I served in for nearly 6 months (though I was there during the gloomy winter months and not during the bright and beautiful summer). We had a lot of miles to cover that day, so we got moving toward Idaho falls. We stopped in Sonoma for cheese and potty. And then we drove and drove and drove.

Final Prius count: well over 200. We didn't see many in Idaho or Utah and saw less in Phoenix. I have actually started noticing them in Tucson quite often-at least one every time I venture out.

***
I don't mean to sell short our visit with my family. Hopefully our time with them has been sufficiently blogged about by Michelle and Nick. We had a wonderful wonderful time with my parents. We always do. We love them so much and this, the "trellis" trip will live in legend. It's nice to get along so well with my parents, siblings and with Brandon, Michelle's husband. We always have something exciting, important, or thought provoking to talk about. Let's be friends forever, ok guys?

Our final stop on the trip was the Grand Canyon. I had never been there before and we took the detour off the beaten path to see it. It added an additional 3 hours to our already 12 hour day, but I was glad we did it. There was something symbolic about standing before that great, beautiful void with my family. We are, ourselves, about to venture into an unknown void of sorts--though it also promises to be... beautiful.

Artichoke me any time you want.

I gotta get this roadtrip narrative under the bridge. Time is marching on!

Prius Count 70

When we left our weary campers, they were at a KOA in Santa Cruz freezing their booties off. We rose that morning to the click and clank of the campers across from us, some speaking an unrecognizable, if pleasant, European language. It wasn't too loud though and the kids slept through it (as you can see here).

We readied ourselves for the day's journey which was to include the famous Monterey Bay Aquarium and then the final leg of the drive to San Francisco.

The Aquarium was magnificent. The kids enjoyed it. Since it was our first time there, though, we didn't know about the cool new interactive, "wet," play area until we had been there for a few hours and were getting antsy to be leaving. The kids, then, had the best time at the place we felt the most rushed at—one of the many vacation ironies.

We then hit the road (after squishing a souvenir penny—the thing that Seth was the most interested in doing and also the thing that only costs $.50 and is OUTSIDE of the aquarium) a little before lunch.

In between Monterey and Santa Cruz is artichoke country—and we had to, therefore, stop for the local delicacy: deep-fried artichoke hearts. Holy Crap (do you capitalize the C in Crap when you use the exclamation "Holy Crap"? I never thought of that phrase as blasphemous until this minute.) Let's just leave it at that. Holy Crap.

The drive to SF was lovely. We opted away from the one for those few miles and probably saved a few hours because of it. We still got to see Crystal Springs, a favorite sight of mine, of the 280. It was very interesting noting the climate/environment change as we passed into SF county. Just a few miles south it was sunny, but Pacifica, Daly City, and SF were totally foggsville.

We made it to the motel in time to get over to my old friend Jeff Freebairn's house for a yummy Thai dinner. It was fun to see him struggling with similar child-raising issues. We met he and his wife Millan at Fisherman's Warf the next morning after a really cool (if windy freezing) cable car ride from Powell and Market. We et crab, walked around a bit, enjoyed the beautiful sites and cruised back up the cable-car and to our car. Due to a recent Little Einsteins, Seth knew many of the sights, including Coit Tower, which loomed in the distance.

(You gotta love that lady up there who smiled for our picture. They were very nice and understanding of our squirmy family.) Our next destination was Tina's aunt Tricia's house in Berkeley. This stop was a definite highlight for me and Tina (and the kids!). Let's hit that tomorrow—it deserves it's own entry.

Highway 1 (May 13)

Prius Count 42

All of my good intentions of blogging everyday about our trip have faded as I now sit, vacation over, back in Mesa with only memories. (Update: Now I am in Tucson, move over with sore back and feet. We are very glad to be here.)

Alas, the trip log must continue and so I begin this blog where we ended the last. In the LA area with Disneyland behind us. We stayed the night of the 12^th with my good friend and former mission companion Mike Daines and his wife Brooke. They have a nice pad on a hill in South Pasadena. As is becoming tradition during my visits with Mike, our conversation moves from talk of the intersection of our two career interests (graphic design and rhetoric) to the days of the mission. I am amazed at what he can remember about the mission that I have completely forgotten. Visits like the one I had with Mike make it clear that if I am serious about writing a mission memoir (and I would really like to do some serious work on it this summer), I will need the help of the memories of Mike and other mission bros if it’s going to be good.

We left Mike’s on Sunday morning with the intention to drive up the coast to Santa Cruz and our first night of camping—what we didn’t intend was that it would take us 12 hours in the car to accomplish this. But what a 12 hours they were (at least, what a first 9 hours they were). The Pacific Coast Highway, or Highway 1, from LA to San Francisco offers a variety of sights to behold, from fancy-schmance beach houses to cliff side hotels and from amazing beaches to steep, windy forest roads. The first major beach town is Malibu. It was funny to see that almost every beach house has a super nice car parked in front of it—an indication that even though most of the houses are small, they are not, by any means, cheap. We drove by the beautiful Pepperdine college and then up to Santa Barbara. I would have to say that UC SB is now at the top of my list for future, hope-to-work-and-live destinations. Talk about awesome location! (A quick peak at their web space has revealed that they don’t really have a rhetoric and composition emphasis in their English department—crap!). At some point just south of Santa Barbara, we stopped for a picnic lunch on the beach. It was lovely, but of course, as soon as we had climbed down the rocks from the car and were sitting on the beach enjoying the sand and surf, Seth whined that he needed to use the bathroom. And of course it had to be the less-convenient number two that he had to do. And of course a quick look up and down the beach confirmed that there was no bathroom for miles. So what did we do? It’s gonna sound cruel, but I put one of Maryn’s diapers on Seth and told him to do his business if he could and tried to enjoy the beach. We did enjoy it, even if it was only a few minutes. Seth couldn’t manage his business without a toilet—which isn’t a bad thing. We found one a few miles up the road.

I should mention briefly, that this was the first day that the Prius sightings started to pour in. They were everywhere. We saw at least 30.

Between Santa Barbara and Monterey, there aren’t many big towns—so I need the reader at this point to imagine breathtaking view after breathtaking view. A new beautiful sight was literally around every corner. How I wish I could have just stared at the beaches and ocean the whole drive. Keeping one’s eyes on the road in an environment such as that was akin to having to keep your eyes closed in a movie theatre—and only open them every 30 seconds or so.

We stopped for dinner in the tiny beach town of Cayucos where we ate chowder and fish and chips at a friendly Mom and Pop diner. It was nearing sunset and was getting cooler. For whatever reason, this was a highlight of the trip up the coast for me. I just loved being there with my family in that little coastal town eating fish. The kids were well behaved; Tina and I were having nice conversations; it was just—for me—perfect. I won’t soon forget the feeling. As we started getting further north, we started ascending into the forest that surrounds Big Sir. This was the windy driving, car-sick inducing driving that you might have heard about in reference to Highway one. It was a bit tedious, if only because it was getting late and we were still hours away from our destination. The sun went down, we finally passed through Monterey, but it was another 45 minutes up to Santa Cruz and the KOA.

When we finally got to our campsite—it was about 10:30. You’ve never seen a man and his wife set up a tent so quickly. Our children, unaccustomed to watching their parents work with such ferocity, were beside themselves in the car, a trio of tears and wails. When we all nestled into our blankets and sleeping bags, they fell asleep almost immediately.

Despite its length, I would love to make this drive every summer—though I know that will never happen. For your future trip planning, there are some great campsites at Big Sir and, right near, in my opinion, the most striking site of the trip. The campsites are located about 8 hours north of Malibu and are right on the coastal cliffs. If and when we do this again, we will be staying there.

Disneylanding

(Prius Count 11, two on the way to Disneyland both days)

I wonder what it is like for a kid. You tell them for weeks that they are going to Disneyland and, man, are they excited. And then you get there. Does it meet their expectations? Is it all they ever dreamed it would be?
As we walked through the gates to the Happiest Place on Earth, Seth didn’t seem to know that we were there yet. All he saw was a road with stores to the left and the right. We weren’t IN Disneyland until we walked through the middle of the Sleeping Beauty castle. “Now we are here, Daddy” he said.

I hope that he had fun. I think he did most of the time. Here are some highlights:

• The very first ride we went on was Snow White. MISTAKE! It was dark and scary (and thankfully short). I felt like a liar after I made Seth repeat the mantra “Even though it’s sometimes dark, nothing at Disneyland is scary.” I kept up the mantra anyway.
• He got scared again in line to go on Star Tours. We almost had to force him to stay in line with us. Luckily, when we went on the ride, it ended up being a favorite.
• We then asked him if he wanted to go on a roller coaster. He said yes. So we took him on Space Mountain. Gosh, I feel like a horrible parent reporting on these things. Not only is Space Mountain one of the best and fastest coasters at the park, as you know, it is nearly completely dark on the ride! But we took him anyway. I couldn’t see his face during the whole ride so I didn’t know if he was in a state of absolute terror or not. Near the end of the ride, I heard him woo-hooing along with the rest of us. And when we got done—he was smiling and happy (with tears running down his face—maybe from the wind and speed?). I wanted to go again immediately—the wait was short. When asked if he wanted to go again Seth said: “Maybe not.”
• One of the coolest “shows” we watched was the production of the Jedi Academy. For those who haven’t seen this, here’s how it works. The stage that it takes place is the one just outside the hamburger joint in Tomorrowland. It has the rising section—remember it? Anyway, a bunch of kids line up behind some retaining string—then the Star Wars music starts and these AWESOME Jedi-folk come out. They proceed to choose lucky Jedis-to-be from the audience (about 25 kids—Seth didn’t want to participate, so we just watched) and put cute little brown Jedi-robes on them. The Jedi then proceed to instruct the kids on the finer points of light saber wielding. The main Jedi guy is funny and drops many force-speak one-liners. Anyway, when the kids are ready, Darth Vader and Darth Maul come out to challenge the new Jedis. The Darth Maul looks totally authentic. The whole thing was awesome—I’m not doing it justice here. If you are there—go see it. Even if your son doesn’t want to participate.
• On the first day we also discovered Seth’s favorite ride: Grizzly Rapids in California adventure. He absolutely loved that he got "soaking wet" even when he only got a few drops on him. Also on the first day: Matterhorn, Jungle Cruise, Dumbo (Maryn loved this one—you can tell when Maryn loves a ride because she cries when it’s over), California Screaming. One other honorable mention on the first day was the Pooh ride. When we went on it a few years ago with my parents, the line was an hour and the ride is only 3 or 4 minutes. This time there was no line at all and so we went twice.
• We love the free tortillas in the Mission tortilla factory in California Adventure—but skip the taco/burrito shop. We waited in line there at least 4 times longer than any ride line (over an hour).
• The second day seems like a blur (maybe I am just growing tired of writing—as you are sure to be tired of reading). The highlight of the day for me was this cool food demonstration on balsamic vinegar in California Adventure. At the end of it, everyone got a sample of lamb with reduced balsamic sauce. Yummy.
• Seth and I went on the Grizzly Rapids ride two more times. As a family, Jonas, Grandma, Papa and all, we also went on the large Ferris Wheel in CA and Pirates of the Caribbean (which has some cool Captain Jack Sparrow additions, I might add).
• A family favorite is California Screaming. As roller coasters go, it’s nothing special. But it’s really fun within the context of the rides at CA.
• The kids absolutely loved the bug’s land—little kid rides and water to splash in galore.
• If you have never seen the show at the Golden Corral in Frontierland you gotta. It is my favorite thing about Disneyland, period.
• There was a cool moment at the end of the second day. We left the kids (all three of ‘em) with Grandma and Papa and Tina and I raced off together to go on the Hollywood Tower of Terror in California adventure. It was so fun to just be with my wife—almost like our honeymoon again (which is coming up on being 7 years ago). We had a nice time visiting and snuggling a bit (not too much) in line. Tina was nervous about going on the ride, which made it all the funner when she had a great time. Also, the kids got to go on Autopia and the rockets in Tomorrowland which ended their ride experience in the park.

• After the fun date with my wife, we watched a great fireworks spectacular. Also a must if you can see it. It’s from last year’s 50th anniversary year. Speaking of the 50th anniversary, on the way out of the park, we went to a little movie about the 50 years of Disneyland. The theatre lobby was gorgeous and was done up with a bunch of old stuff—models, paintings, photographs of the history of the park. I realized again when we were there that my favorite parts of Disneyland are not the rides. What I love about the park is its history of Quality (wow—tying Pirsig's Zen into Disney). Everything about the park is meticulous—there is really no (or almost no) evidence of slack in Disneyland. From the flowers, to the barber shop quartets and marching bands, to the variety of friendly “cast members”, to the look and feel of each of the “lands”, Disneyland is all about attention to detail. You are really hard pressed to find any decay in the park. The only place that I saw it (decay or slack) was in those parts of the park that have kind of moved out of the main wave of the force of the Disney Machine. Toontown is a bit outdated (who really knows about Gadget and Chip and Dale Rescue Rangers anymore, anyway?). The only other evidence of a bit of slack would be the things that are NOT a part of Disneyland but are a major part of what we know Disney to be—namely Pixar. But the park is rapidly moving in that direction. There is a new Monster’s Inc. ride, a soon-to-open Finding Nemo ride, and apparently more on the horizon. It is quite the amazing thing, that Disneyland. If you go and aren’t impressed, check out the competition: Knotts and Magic Mountain. You might find more thrilling rides there, but you will also find garbage, grumpy employees, and an altogether lack of Quality.

Welcome to California (or questions I have about a question mark)

As you might have gandered, the whole blog-as-you-go vacation plan didn’t work out. There was this great moment of truth when I got to Mike Daines’s house in Pasadena, and there on the table was the box from Nick with the cable in it. We took out the cable, gave it a look over—all was in line! This was going to be a successful venture… but then… tragedy stuck. The male connection was just too small—it didn’t fit. And there was much lamenting in the OC.

So, here I am, with my first chance to post. It’s Sunday afternoon; we successfully made it to my sister’s house in Idaho Falls on Friday night. And while we have had many happy reunions with my siblings and parents, leaving California behind was harder than I expected. We had a wonderful time there, and will not soon forget the experience—but before I get ahead of myself, let’s back up a bit.

Day 1 (Prius count: 7)

We left our house around 9:30 and we only had to go back once (I forgot the Ipod). Luckily, we weren’t off Polytechnic campus yet. We strategically left so that I could drop my student teaching paperwork off at ASU on our way out of town. It was on campus that I realized that this may be my last time on main campus for a while. And while I feel a stronger connection with the campus where we live (and where I work), I got nostalgic just for a second. ASU has been the place of my redirection in life. I’m glad I went there and feel proud that it is my new alumnus. I got school spirit, how ‘bout you?

We were off to California at about 11:00 and the trip officially began. Tina and I have seemed to become car friends. We use to not be car friends—or at least it seems that in the past car trips had more tension than they have in the last year. Our secret, oh weary travelers? Good somethins to listen to that stimulate the ol’ intellect.. Last year we listened to Potok’s The Chosen. Then at Thanksgiving, we listened to Life of Pi. This year, I made about 16 CDs, each with an episode of Ira Glass’s Chicago radio program This American Life. The website has a “greatest hits” of sorts for this Saturday running NPR program. Since it finally became available as a podcast, I have become a fan. Tina, I think, has become a fan as well and we listened to at least two of them on the way out to LA.

The kids were great (and have been really good on 90% of the now 2000 mile trip—it will break 3000 by the time we get home). The movie in the car thing is the only way to go—so if the kids don’t get much mention on the actual in-car part of this report, don’t fret. They’re watching Cars.

The best story of the day occurred when we crossed the Colorado River into Blythe. At the entrance to any town—but especially those with mid-size/smaller populations, there is a “Welcome to…” sign (in this case “Welcome to Beautiful Blythe”) with smaller signs underneath alerting travelers to the amenities to be found within the town: Food, Camping, etc.—each with little pictures to go along with the words (perhaps for the less literate traveler?). Underneath the Blythe sign were these familiar sub-signs along with one that stuck Tina and I funny (though I admit that, having explained this story to my family since arriving here, they were politely responsive but not knocked down by the funniness of it. I guess Tina and me are weird). The sign was very simple: it was a simple question mark: ? For whatever reason, we thought that it was hilarious. Of course, we understand the meaning of the sign: travelers interested in information gathering, or with questions that need answering are sure to be able to find answers in town—probably provided by a visitor’s center of some sort. But to us, grouped with the gas and food signs, it just looked like “?—we don’t know what the crap else you’ll find here. It’s a mystery to us as well.” Or: “?—it’s a surprise!).

We laughed about that for a while. The Colorado was surprising to us as well (maybe it was the answer to the ?—surprise!). It was very pretty. Especially after that bleak western Arizona drive. Very oasis-like. And it proved to be a subtle preview to the beauty that would slowly build over the next week.

Almost immediately upon entering California, we saw two identical, interesting cars within seconds of each other. A minute or so later we saw another—Toyota’s hybrid Prius. I had heard about the Prius boom on the radio. Apparently, they sold out of the 2006 model because they were so popular. I hadn’t really seen many in Arizona to speak of, but we decided after seeing so many in a row that we would make it a game while on our trip. Thus, Prius hunting commenced.

We arrived in LA without much further incident and ate cheap Costco food for dinner. Disneyland beckoned, and we would loudly answer the call for the next two days.

Stay tuned for the full report…

Motorcycles and Bull Fights or How the Semester Ended and Summer Began

The semester is finally wrapping up for me. I am set to graduate again on Thursday, but I won’t be there. Wednesday, as many of you well know, we will be taking off on a marathon vacation. It is my intention, if all goes as planned, to be able to blog about the trip as we go. My magic brother Nick said “abracadabra” and a power cord/AC adapter that should fit my laptop appeared in his office. He sent the cord to my buddy Mike in Pasadena with whom we are staying on Saturday night this week. (Again,) If all goes as planned, the cable will be retrieved and will provide the spark necessary to power said laptop and we will be in business. So—those in the blogosphere who are anxious for a play-by-play—get excited (and cross your fingers that the cable works—and thanks be to Nicky).

This post is to get you up to speed on the two most recent books that I read. Pirsig’s Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance and Hemingway’s The Sun Also Rises.

Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance – Robert Pirsig

First a bit about Zen. The question is, what bit? I am torn about how to report on this book. I really liked it, but I really had to slog through it. The good parts were enough to keep me slogging as well as the fact that the book had been highly recommended to me by one of the smartest people I know, my mission buddy Brian Hall.

Here is the breakdown: As I mention in an earlier post, Zen is a travel narrative interspersed with intellectual bits about Pirsig’s philosophy of Quality. Defining what Quality is in this short post in a way that would justify how Pirsig defines it (or admits to its in-definability) is impossible. Basically, and to use his motorcycle maintenance metaphor, we, our lives, and the way we view those around us, are the motorcycle. That motorcycle, while being operated, is in a constant state of deterioration. If we don’t do anything about that deterioration by maintaining the quality of the machine, the machine will first cease to operate smoothly and eventually quit all together. Quality can be defined (in this simplistic analysis) as that spark (to use that word again) that motivates us to maintain. If we maintain the motorcycle, we will find that this maintenance (and not necessarily the object maintained) brings us joy.

So there you go. The tough thing about the book is that Pirsig seeks to carve out quality as a kind of missing link in western philosophy. So, he goes about describing the threads of this thought very thoroughly and very intellectually. This high-brow intellectualism can be daunting to the reader and, if you are just a casual reader, frankly get pretty boring. You really have to pay attention.

Two things kept me moving. The travel narrative is top-rate. The narrator and his son start in Minnesota and end their road-trip in San Francisco. The description of that journey, which includes a significant stop in Bozeman, Montana, is lovely. I really wish there was more to it.

The other thing that kept me going is that the narrator is a rhetoric professor. I had no idea that this was the case when I started reading. Much of the novel focuses on his own back story—told in a weird, third-person sort of way in which he names himself Phaedrus (there is a good reason for this, but you’ll have to read the book to find out). Phaedrus was an English professor at the University of Montana and a lot of the story is about his experiences teaching rhetoric—which, for me, is fascinating seeing as that is what I will be doing with my life as well.

So, do I recommend it? Yeah—I can’t not. Will I feel bad if nobody takes my recommendation? Not one bit. (Do I enjoy asking myself questions and then answering them?—definitely. I picked it up as a wrapping-up strategy from my mission president. Charming, huh? Yes it is.)

The Sun Also Rises – Earnest Hemingway

I just finished this novel, my first full length Hemingway. It was interesting, to be sure, and I think I would like to read another. Published in the early 20s, The Sun Also Rises was Hemingway’s first commercial success. Most of us have read The Great Gatsby and F. Scott Fitzgerald was Hemingway’s contemporary and friend (and later, competitor). This might help those of you wondering what the style of the writing is like. It has the same kind of bleak, spare, beauty that is present in Fitzgerald’s work, but pared back even further. Hemingway is famous for his short, non-flowery sentences and the long, simple, uninterrupted dialog of his characters.

Hemingway and Fitzgerald, as well as many other American writers and artists in the 20s, were expatriates living in France. Hemingway was a World War I veteran and was a part of what Gertrude Stein called “The Lost Generation.” The Sun Also Rises is a thinly veiled autobiography, in that sense. It is about a veteran writer living in Paris, trying to come to terms with the aftermath of the war as well as his own sense of self. He is lonely. War wounds have left him literally emasculated (eek) and the woman he loves (and who loves him) won’t settle down with him for this reason and spends her time roving.

The novel takes the reader on a trip to Spain and I guess is the reason that the running of the bulls and bull fighting became well known in America.

Like Fitzgerald novels, the characters in Sun are seldom seen not drinking. This is a part of the pathetic loneliness that pervades the novel. However, the characters in the novel use a funny word for “drunk.” When a character is drunk, they will often refer to themselves as “tight.” I thought this was kind of a funny way to express that unfortunate condition and it also shows how the use of slang changes over the years. When I was growing up the word “tight” meant something akin to “awesome.” I might say to Andy Hunt: “Dude, those shoes are tight man. Where did you get them?" I guess there are other meanings: “tight-wad” means something quite different than awesome or drunk.

Can this wise readership think of any other words that have come to mean something other than what they were originally intended?

***

I’m currently reading Steinbeck’s The Winter of Our Discontent and C.S. Lewis’s Mere Christianity (at Michelle’s suggestion)—so far so good.

Attempt at some interaction--the Favorite Three

When I was a freshman in high school, me and my best buddy, Andy Hunt would lay on his living room floor and try to guess the next song that would come on the 5-disc CD changer that his parents had recently purchased (and let me tell you--that thing was high technology!). You got points (it was never determined how many) if you got the right artist (there were always at lest two discs in the changer by the same band--usually The Cure or Morrissey), more points for getting the album right, and then the closer you were to the actual track--you guessed it--more points. If you actually chose the song--well, I don't know that it ever happened. Perhaps the room would have been sucked into a new dimension.

That cute story from my past aside, I know that there are several of you who read this blog who have a favorite group or maybe even a few bands or singers you like. Here's how you play this game. Think of a group that you like and then post a comment that has your top 3-5 songs by that group (I know how hard it can be to boil it down) and some words about why (optional). Then we can post in agreement or disagreement with words of our own.

I'll start:

Ben Folds is probably my favorite songwriter of all time. Yes, even more so than Robert Smith or Billy Corgan. Here are my top three songs by him:

"Selfless, Cold, and Composed"- I already have a soft spot for songs in 6/8. This song came out in the months before I left on my mission and it (as well as "Missing the War" and "Evaporated") had just the right forlorn twinge that suited me then and suits certain moods of mine now (though the other songs I mentioned were more acute back then--"Selfless" has jumped in the rankings since). It is, for me, the consummate Ben Folds tune.
"Army"- you know you can't resist those horns! This song starts off with a swear that I can't condone (though for some reason when BF swears, I can't help but smile usually--kinda like your dad swearing. It's funny!), "Army" is Ben Folds Five at their best. Harmony and Horns--that's all you need (and fuzz bass).
"Trusted"- this tune in on Ben Folds's most recent solo album. I love it. I love how he can be super funny on one track and then super serious on the next. This is one of those serious moments. When I heard this tune I knew my boy Ben would be around for a long time.

Tina and I are going to see Ben Folds and John Mayer together this summer (you got John Mayer, Nick? Tell us your fave three!). It is sure to be magnificent.

The End of an Era..?

About a year ago, my buddy who hosts jonstone.com for me (Mat Richins) got an email from Jon Stone offering $500 bucks for the domain. Yes, there are many other Jon Stones out there, I guess, and this one has his eye on my site. I scoffed when I heard--HA! I am the only Jon Stone who really matters (except that dude with the big beard who was the writer for Sesame Street before he kicked the bucket). I laugh in the general direction of your $500!

A few months later he upped the ante to $1000. My pride bubble grew--dollar signs in my eyes. If i sit on this long enough, I thought, it could be my chance at millions!

Well, as we tabulate the costs of moving, paying a rent deposit, going on extended vacation, etc., that $1000 bucks is looking a bit more appealing. So- I offered the dude $1500. He was all over it. (Man! should have offered it for 2K!). I have to give him time to drum up the cash, but it looks like jonstone.com is in its final stretch.

Fear not, dear family! I will be able to very easily transfer all of the happiness on the site to a new domain. Unfortunately, most of the good ones (stonefamily.com, thefamilystone.com, jonathanstone.com, and on and on) are taken already. Right now, the best I can do are thehouseofstone.com and jonstonefamily.com. So--your job, should you care to participate, is to vote on either of those or use your creative juices to come up with another site with an appropriate title to host the picture vault that is currently jonstone.com. You can check and see if that domain is available by plugging it into a domain availability search engine like the one here or here.

I actually like thehouseofstone.com It has a nice ring to it and works well as a place where many of us with stone connections can post pictures of our families. I don't doubt in your abilities to come up with something better, though. Go for it!

Gathering Blue & Messenger

I just finished the second and third book in the Lois Lowry series that begins with The Giver. I posted earlier about my affinity for The Giver but about my frustration at its length and failure to offer any real closure in regards to the central conflict in the novel. This tradition continues into the second novel, and (while not as prevalent) is also present in the third. These problems do not outshine the warmth and quality of these latter two novels, but still leave the reader wanting (maybe that is the point though).

The second novel in the series is titled Gathering Blue. I should mention, however, that the series is not really a standard one as series go. There are no characters that appear or speak in the second novel that were in the first. The only reference that we get to the other story at all is a mention of a young man with pale blue eyes who lives in a different village from that of the protagonist. We assume that this pale blue eyed fellow is Jonas—though he is no longer referred to by that name in the second or third book.

The third novel is titled Messenger. Because the books are both so short, I will keep a rehashing of plot elements to a minimum—what is important to know is that both books take place on the same “world” as The Giver did—a post apocalyptic Earth. Each introduce and describe different utopias in this world, though each are vastly different from each other (which is kind of cool since they are all on the same planet). Each book, like The Giver, centers on a protagonist with a special power that can be used to serve others. The books are all about how these young people come to terms with their inner power and how they learn how to use it for good.

The thing that I like about these novels is that the “broad strokes” (there’s that term again!) are colorful and bright. The picture that they present to the reader leaves much to the imagination—in other words, the reader is really only told a few details about the environments in the book and is left to fill in the blanks. Unfortunately, these broad strokes are where the novels are lacking for me as well. Lowry introduces (in all three books) potential antagonists with which a detailed conflict would be very interesting and then never uses them. It’s a bizarre choice for me, dramatically. Gathering Blue has almost no conflict in it at all—so the story arc ends up a little weird. Like The Giver it seems to end just when it starts to get good. This is alleviated a bit by the fact that Messenger deals with many of the same characters as Gathering Blue does, so we get a bit of closure on some plot points (plus the Jonas character gets a supporting role). In a word, the books are soft. If you like that kind of thing (and I am thinking particularly of you, Dad), you should really enjoy them. I did—though they all left me a bit hungry.

I should also mention here that I am halfway through Pirsig’s famous Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. I really like it—though it is a very different kind of book. It is ½ philosophy theory, ¼ self-help, and ¼ travel narrative. The theory gets a bit complicated and thick at times, but the self-help stuff is well disguised and isn’t preachy or toot-your-own-horn-y like some self-help stuff I have read. The travel narrative is the part of the book that I wish there was more of. I love reading about places and scenery—I guess I am just at the part of my life right now. Anyway, more on this book in a few weeks when I finish it.

Come on feel the Illinoise

Sears Tower pictures
Chicago looking northeast

north
Champaign church (Stake Center)
English building at UIUC

place we will probably live...(still working out the details here--notice the picture changed)

broad strokes from the heartland...

Tonight is my last night in Illinois for a few months. It has been a wonderful time. I only wish that my family could have been here to experience it with me. I have been promising detailed descriptions to help fill in some of my "broad strokes" but I guess I can't promise that tonight. Here is what I can promise. When I get home I will post all of the pictures that I took. Then you ask me for details and I promise to give them--ok?

A few moments stick out--but one overarching theme. It can be summed up by the first moment. The Art Institute of Chicago was one of the single most amazing two hours of the trip. Of the literally hundreds (maybe thousands!) of pieces I saw, I couldn't believe the difference of looking at masterpieces in person rather than in a book. This Renoir painting, for example:
I have seen it over and over again in books and on the cover of Impressionism books. Not until you see it in person can you know what it is really like and feel the power of the blue in those flowers and in the smaller girls eyes. It is incredible.

This has been the case over and over again on this visit. Sure, I saw a picture of campus on the website, I looked at the map of the towns online--but it wasn't until I was here and could experience the details of the place did those broad strokes (thanks for that term Dad! it is coming in handy!) and impressions begin to form images that were more literal in my mind. I had another moment inside the English building where I will be spending so much time over the next years. I think when wonderful people inhibit beautiful spaces, those spaces become that much more beautiful. That is how I felt about my visit to the campus. Aesthetically, it is gorgeous...but it was the people that really made it glow for me.

Finally, I would be remiss not to comment on the closing song tonight in the priesthood session. Since I was hard charging around looking for a place to live, I wasn't able to see any of the other sessions today, so I was lapping up the spirit in tonight's meeting. The "new" Be Still My Soul tonight was one of the most beautiful pieces/arrangements that I can remember EVER being sung in a priesthood meeting. I was touched.

I can't wait to return to this town. I wish that we could move out tomorrow. It makes me excited that I get to raise my kids in such a neat town. I think it is going to be wonderful for them.