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.

Let's go away for a while...Holiday update

Tonight, finally: a lull. It has been a busy season. Classes ended for me on the 15th, and with what I thought would be another successful semester in the hole (and it was! Straight As and summa cum laude are now mine!), I started the process of—one by one—finalizing my applications for graduate school. Wisconsin Madison, Pitt and the U of A were all due on the 15th, Rensselaer was due on the 1st and I tossed the application for Texas in the mail this afternoon (hoping that the Ford holiday doesn’t foul up the postmark requirement). It has been a good time here in Tucson—though it’s hard not to miss my family during Christmas. Here is an excerpt by Dave of a letter to Scott on his mission that sums up a lot of the holiday activities:

Well, we had a snow adventure yesterday. With all the rain (and consequently snow) recently there was a bunch of snow on Mt. Lemmon. We had gone up to Mesa Friday for a doctor appointment for Maryn and went to the temple. On the way back to Tucson, we stopped at Matt and Mindy’s house and they loaned Tina a few things for the snow; boots, gloves (“glums” Seth calls them), bibs and a cool sled which is like a boogie board with handles. So we left home about 3:30 and passed hundreds of cars pulled off the side of the road as low as Bear Canyon picnic area. We trudged on up to the Mt. Bigelow road to the meadow there. There weren’t as many cars there but the road was icy and we drove up as far as we could and then parked and walked a hundred yards or so. You might recall that the meadow is in the shade and when the wind blew, the snow on the tree branches came down on us. Yeah, it was cold. But Seth loved it and rode down the hill on the sled with Jon several times (he made a snow angel with Rachel too). He would dig his heels in at the bottom to stop and spray them both with snow. I took Maryn down a short version of the hill and she liked it too. Jon HAD to start at the road above us and go all the way down by himself. When he hit the first bump he caught some glorious air and landed hard on his coccyx (pronounced “kok-kicks”). He was injured… injured bad… and is sore today. Carlie and Trevor came up and met us there and Trevor rode down the hill a couple of times. It was very fun but Seth was very sad that we did not build a snowman. But it was getting colder and dark (and Mom and the sisters had about had it) and the snow was pretty powdery. Besides, we pretty much had had all the fun we wanted to have. At one of the pull outs someone had made a very cute snowman and people were lining up to have their picture taken beside it (On the ride down we drove into the sunset up to a long line of cars lined up at the Houghton/Catalina highway intersection. Maryn screamed the whole way. My theory is sore ears from altitude change. But when we got home Mom made TWO kinds of soups to warm us up (clam chowder and ham and potato). Yum.

We have been doing some serious chillaxing here these days. Playing Mexican train (a domino game), Settlers of Catan, Apples to Apples, watching DVDs, playing Nintendo (including Mom’s favorite, Tetris), staying up late, getting up late and eating… a lot. On the Jon Stone Coke Zero can count, he is currently at about 35 for the vacation. He is hoping for a record. He also is rockin’ on Picmin 2 (a game he claims he bought for you last time they were down—it was only $10 at Circuit City). This week we are going to paint over the drywall repairs that Handy Manny George made for us and probably put the decorations away. Seth loves to play Nintendo. Just give him a controller (plugged in or not) and he will have a great time. He also loves the DVD “The Polar Express” and we have already watched it while drinking hot chocolate. It’s his new favorite movie.

Anyway—back to Mesa tomorrow. The Illinois application is due postmarked by Friday and then it starts again on the 15th. Writing these letters and spending so much time looking at the University websites and faculty articles that have been published is making me excited at the prospects of getting in somewhere. Every school that I have applied to has its virtues and so far I haven’t felt like I have wasted any time or money (though the money thing is huge—I figure that by the end of the process it will have cost us as much as a semester in school costs to apply to grad school.). It’s hard not to dread the possibility of not getting in anywhere. Another seminary-like rejection. We found something out, though, recently that helped to curb some of that dread. We discovered that school districts in Texas hire teachers for almost 10K more per year than they do in Arizona (around 38K a year) and housing there is half as expensive. This perked me up a bit—all that I have really wanted in all of this is to have a job that I enjoy that pays enough for us to be able to buy a house and not have Tina work. So, it looks like we have a very viable plan B.

So that is the update. Stay tuned above for the best of 2006 entry. Coming soon.

Whaling in the 115 degree Desert

Its been a month or so since my last post and how I long for lazy summer days. Since my last post, I have finished my summer Shakespeare course (Merchant of Venice, King Lear, Measure for Measure, Henry VIII, and Much Ado for those of you keeping score), and make the trek up to my folk's house in American Fork. A few things about that first:

For the first time ever, I opened my eyes to that gorgeous drive. From the low desert of Phoenix to the forest environs of Flag to the high desert and strange reds, oranges and grays of Cameron and the gaping mouth of ole Grandy herself. Page, Glen Canyon, Kanab, Mount Carmel, oh my! I would imagine that living couched between Glen Canyon, Zion’s park and only hours away from the Grand Canyon would be every cliff junkie’s dream. I love how as you drive up the 89, between Mount Carmel and the 70 turn off, a creek (pronounced in my home town of Logan, UT as “crick”) accompanies you running north for miles and miles, not to mention the grassy mountain meadows and groves. Anyway—I am glad I finally noticed that.

My parents' house was lovely. It was so nice to relax and enjoy their company. Dad took us to see Nacho Libre--a highlight to be sure. "Choncho--when you are a man...sometimes you wear stretchy pants. It's for fun."

Tina and I did something different this trip. We listened to a book on CD. Chaim Potok’s The Chosen to be precise. It was a nice experience, an enjoyable novel and a great way to pass the time. Even better—I can count it as one of my Young Adult Fiction novels in this upcoming semester’s class. I also finished Richard Russo’s Empire Falls—-a great East of Eden-esque family epic. I really enjoyed it. I love books about regular people with regular problems. It takes a talented writer to make those regular things seem important and significant—-a lot like the way that we view our own lives: the significance is in the regularity. Anyway, I recommend it, oh thou thousands of my readership. Russo is the kind of author that inspires young wannabes like me to start writing that novel that they say everybody thinks that they have in them. I actually have what I think is a pretty good idea. Just like everybody else.

Another book I have finally been able to put a significant dent in because of the marvelous invention and never tiring vocal chords of the magnificent audiobook is Herman Melville’s Moby Dick (careful not to forget the ‘r’ in Herman, lest the old coot become He-man, which is actually not a bad nickname for someone with such magnanimous prose-power—“By the Power of Great-White-Skull!”). If you have never read, or never gotten past the first chapter of Ahab’s Monomaniacal Adventure here is a brief synopsis of what to expect: one chapter of excellent, steady moving plot between four chapters of another book titled Everything You Ever Cared To Know About Whaling’s Guide For Suckers Who Thought They Were Reading Moby Dick, One of America’s Treasures. It’s some heavy stuff--seriously, if you want to learn how to decapitate a sperm whale, Melville's your man. But—again, give me an hour in the car and I can knock off a good five chapters! Ahoy me hardies!

In other news, I am back to the grind of the grad school pursuit. I have narrowed my search to 10 or 12 schools and am feeling pretty good about my choices. The kicker becomes this whole GRE thing. I have good grades: a 4.0 over the last two years at ASU of my English and ed. studies, I think that I have a fairly decent writing sample and the ability to write decent personal statements—but that dang GRE! Why must it reveal my averageness when I have done so much to cover it up!? I bit the bullet and have been taking a $400 dollar prep course. As soon as I can actually talk myself out of my deranged osmosis-will-suffice study habits, I may actually make some good use of the money spent there.

Also of summer importance: the Rentals and Ozma—-two of the greatest summer bands of my youth have reunited and are touring the country together playing such favorites as Eponine (yeah, I know that is an ’03 clip, but such editing and sound quality!) and I Just Threw Out the Love of My Dreams (I know, not good editing OR sound quality—but that’s Rachel Haden and she is singing one of my favorite songs of all time with the heart and soul of Weezer, one Matt Sharp [parenthesis within a parenthesis—-yeah! See my "What Happened to Weezer" article--this blog's first post]). Ozma reminds me of being married with no kids which meant still being a kid which was fun but seems so long ago. For me they are the perfect punk-pop band--different from Weezer becasue when I first met them they were just kids. Plus, who wouldn't love a band who write songs about Back to the Future, Zelda, Natalie Portman and cover the Tetris theme? The Rentals remind me of being 18 and being a kid but feeling like an adult—-like I knew everything. Matt Sharp was always the funnest thing about seeing Weezer play. Both are great bands: if they come to your town you should go so you can tell me about it because they are coming here on a Sunday!