Auchh(flem)tober

Ah, the most wonderful time of the year... now that summer means nothing because I'm not in school.
Seriously though, you walk outside to beautiful weather. The sun is pleasant instead of oppressive, the air is crisp, the degrees are in the sixties, and the smell of everything is just so nostalgic... reminiscent of a time when Halloween was so magical that just pulling the box of decorations out of the attic was like the first Christmas of the year. Also, Saturdays just burst into life with college football, and though the Texans are a bit disappointing this year, at least ESPN has something to show other than difficult but repetitive baseball highlights because the NFL is in full swing and the NBA just launched. And now calls to family always include plans for Christmas. It's that time of year too. Bust out the Bing or the Harry or the Muppets or the Manheim or the TSO, whatever gets you in the mood for that one season that people actually don't think just about themselves all the time.
So why don't I care much for that "holiday" called Halloween? It's been more of a "my dad's birhtday" than a "glorified set of traditions that were great in elementary, died in high school, but came back in force in college because we all suddenly realized we loved our childhoods" for the last decade for me. I want to touch on that decade a bit to try and explain:
My senior year in high school, I remember going to play football against the Boling Bulldogs with one, Carlton Waddy--I remember his name, yes, and the feeling of his and his whole team's cleats on my face as I pulled grass out of my face mask play after play. That game really defined my role, not as outside linebacker, but as "speed-bump." Even the coach told me, "Martin, this is a rough game for you." What can you do when the guys you are going up against way an average of 45 pounds more than you do? Go for the knees!
For all the college Halloweens, including freshman year pre-mission, I can sum it up with iffy dance parties and everybody and their dogs going out in couples to haunted houses or scary movies and crap. This is probably the biggest deal that marginalized Halloween for me--three words, one alliteration: bitter BYU bachelor. Crap, I just published that shameful bit... With that in mind, Halloween is only number two on the list of least favorite holidays; it should be pretty obvious what number one is.
Mission Halloweens don't really count because they were just another day wherein we worked hard and then went home early so people didn't egg us in their chaotic revelry.
Now post-BYU, Halloween hasn't been so bad. I spent the last one away from family, but the one before that I got to enjoy it with nephews and nieces in Texas, which helps to recapture some of the magic that defined it in my youth. Oh the ambivalence of nostalgia... how we humans crave such things! Or maybe that's just me...
Still (back to whining), I am amazed at how everyone puts so much creativity and resources into their costumes and the best thing I've come up with in the last decade was intramural referee... which really was just me walking home from work. I NEED MY ATTENTION PEOPLE!!
As such, as a sort of "sticking it to the pagan traditional man" statement, I carved a cantelope instead of a pumpkin.

And then I didn't eat it!

So enjoy your zombies and ghosts and things for those people who really dig the 31st. If it's your thang then it's your thang, but it ain't my thang. I never understood America's fetish with zombies and vampire romance and watching movies with enough gore and creepiness to keep me awake for several days, but I guess I lived a happy childhood. Not saying you didn't... 

I also just remembered that I forgot to get candy in case kids actually knock on my door tonight. I better go outside and collect some rocks.

Happy 64th pops! I wouldn't know how old you are if I didn't go back and check how old you were last year in my journal.

Reason to remain a bachelor for life number 31: You can spend Halloween doing what you really want to do: watching NBA and eating Denali Xtreme Maximum Fudge Moose Tracks. 

Oh ASUS, how you Ruin Me!!

I rant sometimes about electronics. It's time to do that again.
My work computer, I swear, is trying to foil me!
I'm like, "Man I have this important job tomorrow!"
And it's like, "Great! Let me give you a white screen and nothing else. Yup. I just got a virus even though you use me for work and skype and literally nothing else! Good luck keeping your job after that ten hour debacle!"

And then I'm like, "Ok, let me get you that audio as fast as I can because it's after 10:00 PM and we just finished this job."
And it's like, "Well, I really don't feel like recognizing any thumbdrives at all, except the one you have on your keychain, but I'm just gonna tell you that it's WAY too full. Those Word docs and powerpoints are weighty stuff, you know. See you at home around 11:30!"

And almost every time I open it, I'm like, "Hello!"
And it's like "Shut up!" and it shuts down for some reason that I have yet to discover.

But it still manages to do its job mostly and I am learning to work around its eccentricities. Still... sometimes I feel a little like Sparhawk and this computer is my Faran.

Reason to stay a bachelor for life number 24: You can get home from work at 10:30 PM, and the day is only beginning!

Gnats

Have I complained about gnats before? I don't think I have... enough.
Can I just say that I wish that all the gnats in the world had an aneurysm  right about now. I mean, I just had one fly up my nose! Just when you think you've gotten rid of the little buggers, all the sudden they start flying out of your disposal again!

Reason to stay a bachelor for life number 52: Bugs in your place aren't that big of a deal.
Reason to graduate from bachelorhood number 51: Bugs in your place become a big enough deal that somebody actually does something about them.

Anxiety Dreams

As we turn the pages of life, sometimes we come upon a new chapter. Perhaps we are starting a new job or moving--something important is on the horizon. The night before this big thing, do you ever dream that you're there and something is amiss? I call these anxiety dreams, and they are the best dreams to wake up from because you're like, "Ok, it hasn't happened yet and I haven't screwed it up... yet."
I actually had one of these last week because my employers had sent me an email for a job and it was supposed to be a very important client. So... I spent the whole of the night before thinking I was in a hotel and scrambling to set up all my equipment there in the hotel (because that was apparently where the whole deal would take place) and very conscious the whole time that I still had to shower. Luckily I was in a hotel so the shower was right there, right?
Then I woke up. Then I went to the real depo. Then I screwed it up in real life. Long story involving a failure to communicate on my part. Big woopsy. Anxiety dream fulfilled.
Since I got to keep the job, I was trying to sleep last night and I kept having dreams about doing work again for that same lawyer that was upset with me, but this one kept messing up too. I mean, the witness was plastered drunk and wouldn't stay in his seat, and there were also two girls sitting on the table totally blocking my camera shot of the witness. The frustration was only cut short by me waking up in the real world because my phone went off with a text informing me about my job that day that I didn't know about. I had to be there in an hour, and it was downtown. I didn't take a shower in real life this time.
So, the human subconscious can be a very cruel thing sometimes. I wonder how much sleep I am going to lose as I anxiety dream about stealing cars and meeting up with Detective Jerk-wad and seeing his smug little face and hearing, "My prayer just got answered."

Reason for being a bachelor for life Number 42: Anxiety dreams. I mean, it's gotta be something awful the night before your wedding.

Litany of Misdeeds Continued Continued

So, I found out recently that all those claims that Detective Dirtbag made concerning me being seen in two suspicious situations were both completely false. I wasn't mentioned by anyone during any sort of investigation except for a brief mention as a witness to get timetables right as to the whereabouts of Mr. Colliver.
So yeah, he was doing his job, but he was also violating codes of conduct in the process. I have filed complaints against him with harassment and willingly giving false evidence. I imagine he's already gotten many such complaints, so this was more for me. I can sleep better at night now.
Was this a charitable move on my part? Shouldn't I just forgive and let go? Pssshhh... I think the more charitable move was to do what I can (even if it's just a measly complaint) to help other citizens not have to go through what I did. Who knows how close people come to falling victim to such methods and a justice system that does make mistakes...
And speaking of charity, this whole situation confirmed to me that although we must unfailingly forgive our fellow man, we don't have to unfailingly TRUST them. Charity, then, becomes quite an ambiguous attribute in such situations with rather divisive points of view. So, I ask you concerning Mr. Colliver... Considering charity, do I distance myself from such a person?

Litany of Misdeeds Continued!

It's been kind of a funny week.
I generally like to be liked by people. That may be some sort of weakness or some sort of charity, I'm not really sure. And all the time I spent being an official for BYU intramurals and being a missionary for the church should have hardened me against lesser minds speaking greater evils, but it's been so long since either of those occupations that perhaps I've gotten unused to being disliked.
So when I get in trouble with one of the lawyers at work, I won't lie, it made my day a bit longer. I felt like a big softy, not having the hard outer shell that could easily withstand the beratings (that may not be a word) of some such lower organism (i.e., the lawyer). What happened, you ask? I took an early lunch break and cost them about 20 minutes, which is actually a HUGE mistake on my part. As they say "You live you learn" to try and make people feel better about their mistakes... what if I didn't learn anything? I know it's a bad thing to make the lawyers wait, and I just made an oopsie. I suppose I will take further precautions in the future to make sure that when they say "lunch" they mean "lunch". Also, "lunch" is one of my all-time least favorite words in the English language along with "tasty" and "yummy". I HATE those words, which is ironic because I love food more than most people.
On Tuesday, there was no basketball after institute. One of the teachers even walked behind me and said "You don't get to play basketball tonight, neener neener neener!" Grown-ups these days... they hurt my heart. Also, my sedentary life hurts my heart. That's why I need basketball so much...
To top it all off, today I got to play hard-ball with a really anal detective from Logansville--which happens to be a city I've never been to. Hour trip? Sure, why not. Let me tell you the reason I thought I was going first of all, but sit down cause it starts much earlier.
There is a guy in my ward that I've had some interactions with that we will call "Colliver". Now, Mr. Colliver seemed to be a bit misunderstood by his fellow YSA's. I do well with misunderstood people, so I volunteered to help him split wood last week, which may have been the most manual labor I've done in one day all year. I've hung out with him in a group setting twice before as well. So here comes the moral of the story as well as a spoiler alert: Don't let marginal acquaintances borrow your car without you in it!
At the big regional conference that happened last weekend in Lilburn, I passed by him and he asked to borrow my car. What was I going to say at a church gathering... no? I was a bit hesitant, but I decided to trust him, I guess. He was supposed to be taking it to close on a deal for a minivan at a place right in the area. I wondered how he had gotten to the conference in the first place, but I guess I just figured some family member dropped him off. Anyways, he took longer than I thought, which bothered me a bit. I kept texting him (even in the middle of the dance) and asking where he was with my keys. He gave some vague responses, but he did come back with my keys. He borrowed them again later that night because he said he needed something from my car. He was gone again for longer than I expected, but again he did return with my keys and I ended up giving him and one other friend a ride home.
Do you see where this is going?
I didn't think much of the meeting I had with the police officers the next day except for the fact that Mr. Colliver had possibly committed a felony while out in my car. I told those two officers everything I knew, and I figured that it was all done and behind me. Apparently a car had been stolen and my marginal acquaintance was being accused. He denied it and apologized for getting me involved.
I figured I build some street cred just by meeting with officers. Three days later, when I was called by some randumb police officer in Logansville to meet him at his office, I wasn't too bothered until I realized that Logansville was an hour away and I hadn't eaten anything for the last six hours.
He sat me down in a tiny little room with a camera and told me to leave my electronic devices outside. I was pretty sure I was just there to regurgitate what I had already told the officers on Sunday, and I did so in the span of about five minutes. Fifty-five minutes later, after arguing like a child with this man and denying some pretty shaky claims involving me specifically, I was rather upset and ready to give him a reason to really interrogate me, Detective DumbAce. Sorry about that... but I REALLY didn't like this guy. I mean, I know he was badgering me and calling me a liar for an hour because it was his job to try and get a confession if there was a confession to be gotten, but this was a direct quote from him at the end of my interrogation: "I pray to God that you are convicted." He used the whole "pray" thing because a lot of the conversation revolved around religion, what with my acquaintance with Mr. Colliver and the whole incident of supposed car theft taking place at a church event. Ironic, no?
It seems I was reported as being in the stolen vehicle at 3 AM Monday morning, and I was also reported looking into the vehicle Saturday night very suspicious like. The former claim was made by some 18 year old girl IN MY WARD and the second claim was very vague... I think he mentioned a "Mr. Man." Haha!
Seriously though, where did those claims come from? It really shook me that something so outrageous had been levelled against me, so the visible signs of my unease I'm sure gave Detective DipSnot some confidence in bullying me around. But I wonder if the girl saw something--at 3 AM in the morning--and just assumed it was me due to my associations with Mr. Colliver the night of the theft. Or perhaps Colliver had an accomplice that looked kind of like me--it was dark on both occasions that I was allegedly spotted. Perhaps the fact that Mr. Colliver took my car that I was seen driving in played some factor into it. But this detective D-Bag was totally going off of these testimonies to the point that my own was apparently invalid. And where was Mr. Colliver during all this? Who knows... And why am I only being questioned now, three days later?
As I sat in that room, so many worst case scenarios went through my head... what if I was setup? Maybe a vindictive teenager who got bored with life or perhaps con-man who preys on Mormons. Either way, I started picturing myself as Edmon Dantes or Andy Duphrain... I'm sure even some Clyde Shelton snuck in there. I picked out a prison name too... Diamondback!!! I would get a Diamondback tattoo as well, and put it maybe on my back... cause it's a Diamondback, right?
So maybe later this week, I'll go give them a DNA sample and fingerprints and stuff. Big deal. What's another trip to 30-miles-away Logansville, right? *grinding teeth*

Reason for graduating from bachelorhood number 95: You would have somebody to vouch for you at 3 AM Monday morning.

Once Upon an Epic Balderdash

Ok, I'm pretty sure that I heard this actual story on Paul Harvey one early morning on the drive to school. That one instance made me file some semblance of that true story away in my memory banks to be withdrawn years and years later during one memorable Beyond Balderdash family game. You know how it gives you a date and you have to say what is significant about that date? I wrote this story for that date:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CnDH1va7iC0

And then, years after that, the actual shark week commercial, posted above, shows up on TV. Me and Paul Harvey, we understood the brilliance of this before it was cool. Hashtag iwasahipsterbeforebeingahipsterwascool.

Also featured in that Balderdash game was the Von Trapeze triple flippeze and subsequent doom. Man, we are a morbid family...

And then there was that one Balderdash game where everything was about leprechauns. Someone even re-wrote the script of Fresh Prince of Belair starring leprechauns for the plot of a movie. We also learned how fun it can be to play Balderdash after having watched Gene Wilder's Willy Wonka... pure imagination!

Here are some words I've taken from Balderdash for the rest of my life: Spizzerinktum (cheap tacky decorations), woopknacker (I don't remember), Noop (the skin on your elbow, I think) and Tyrosemiology (the art of collecting cheese labels, not dead cows rotting in the rain). 

Speaking of epic family games, I am watching this thing on funny ESPN commercials, and Albert Pujols showed up. That reminded me of Hayden's answer to the question "What is the most unfortunate name you can think of?" during the game Loaded Questions (about two Christmas's ago). There was also the name of his autobiography, "Why is My Butt Fat?" and "What is the most important thing in a relationship?" followed by his father's "Hayden, we need to have a talk..."