The Zip Line of Death

Zip Line

I would like to dispense with the usual levity that typically surrounds my blog posts, and take a moment to tell a cautionary tale.  One that will hopefully be passed on from father to son, for generations.  One that will provide direction in this otherwise chaotic world.

this story starts around 1995.  I was 11 years old.  In my backyard there was a playhouse that sat on top of our shed.  The balcony of this playhouse was around 12 feet high.  one day, my friends and I thought it would be good to create a zip line from the balcony of this playhouse down to one of the trees in our backyard, roughly 20 feet away.  we fashioned some rope to the top of the bannister on this balcony and ran it down to a decent sized branch of the tree.  we then took the "lat pull down bar" from an old weight lifting set and set it on top of the rope to use as our handles as we went down this zip line.  we had a great time on this zip line.  We spent what seemed like hours, but was actually the better part of 25 minutes, taking turns going screaming down this rope at speeds most likely approaching 10 or 12 mph.  it was at this time that I learned my first lesson in physics.  and it had to do with friction and what it does to soft metal like aluminum or tin (or whatever cheap manufactured alloy this lat bar was made of).  After 10 or so trips down the line, my friend went again, and at the end of the run, the heat from the friction of the rope caused the metal to get hot, and bend, resulting in the bar being folded in half. My friend, was able to bail out at the end, and just let go and landed safely on his feet.  there was a momentary pause as the 3 young kids looked at the bar.  then, in apparent agreement that it was still safe, the bar was bent back to proper shape and I took my turn.  at the moment my feet left the balcony, and my entire weight hung from the bar, it immediately bent back in half-causing me to let go of the bar and fall 10 feet to the earth, landing square on my back.  having the wind knocked out of me, I spent the next several seconds wheezing like I was a chain smoker in the emphysema ward.  

so ended my childhood desire to ride zip lines.

but as the saying goes, those who fail to learn from history are doomed to repeat it. or more recently "fool me once..."

Puerto Rico is an island.  I had flown to the island to meet up with friends prior to our embarking on a 7 day cruise to the southern Caribbean.  before boarding the ship, the idea was presented that we go on a jungle zip line adventure.  Not one to be the 'party pooper', I agreed.  I was actually looking forward to it.  It had to be better than my previous experience on a zip line, right?  Dave then mentioned that on the zip line that we happened to be going on, you rode it "superman style"... which basically means, you are suspended below the cable in the prone position, which means in the event of a broken cable, you will have a perfect view of the ground as it becomes closer and closer.  I wasn't keen on the idea of "superman style".  I would much rather hang from the cable in a seated position, where I felt a false sense of hope that if there was an issue with my harness, I could use my ninja-quick reflexes to reach up and grab the cable with my hands.  but again, I'm a team player.  As we started off on our journey up the Puerto Rican mountains I envisioned a zip line akin to the ones they have a summer camps and scout jamborees.  you know, 20-25 feet in the air, 100 feet long-nice leisurely zip lines.  But as we continued to drive up and up and up (this is an island remember? how big could this mountain be??) I realized this was not your garden variety zip line.  In fact, if you go to the website for Toro Verde Nature Adventure Park, you will see a description for the zip line that they refer to as "La Bestia" or "The Beast" for those that don't habla the old Espanol.  this is the World's highest Zip Line at 853' above the ground.  It is also the World's Second Longest Zip Line at over 4,000 feet of zip lining terror.  Speeds on the zip line reach up to 65 miles per hour... and we're going to do it... laying down.  Here's a screen shot of the online description for "The Beast"

We arrive at the park and go to check in.  the park has several different zip lines running throughout the mountain side, and every few minutes we can hear screams of joy, and some screams of terror as people come down the lines.  

We had to wait quite a while before we were able to actually go on our tour.  and the more we waited... the more time I had to ponder my life, and whether I had accomplished what I needed to do while in this mortal frame.  It also gave me time to re-read a sign they had at the office of the park 10 or 20 times.  it said something to the affect of "If you suffer from vertigo, dizziness, acrophobia, or if you are pregnant, thinking of becoming pregnant, or care in the slightest about self-preservation, DO NOT ride the zip line."  I'm pretty sure that's what the sign said.  I ran through the check list multiple times.  "Vertigo? nope.  dizziness? getting there.  acrophobia? I don't know what fear of spiders has to do with a zip line...unless...wait, are there giant jungle spiders out on the zip lines?? I ask the lady at the desk, but she offers me a puzzled look, and I assume she doesn't speak english.  Not planning on getting pregnant, but if that would get me out of this mess I'm in, sign me up.  9 months of labor would be a cake walk compared to the torment that was about to come over me.  care for self-preservation? um, apparently not enough for me to back out of this arrangement, although if we wait much longer I might get there."

here is a picture from the office/restaurant area.

Eventually our shuttle arrived to take us over to the Launch Pad.  once down at the Pad, we waited another 40 minutes for our turn to come up, which means I got to watch 10 other people go screaming down the mountain, disappearing from view, leaving only the sound of shrieks to confirm that they still lived.  

Picture of us in our gear, waiting more.

The time finally arrived for Dave and I to tackle "The Beast".  and because timing is everything, a few minutes before we went off, it started to rain.  and not just a little pitter patter, but full on tropical rain-the kind you see in Jurassic Park.  We get strapped in, because, apparently extreme rain, is not a deterrent  for "The Beast" and the guides shove us on our way.  The first 20 yards are not too big a deal-mainly because the ground is still relatively close.  but after that, there is quite the drop-off.  Now over my left shoulder I can hear Dave screaming like a giddy school boy on Christmas Morning.  He is loving life.  I find that I am not able to make a sound.  I try to give a consolation "whoot" but for some reason my throat is experiencing some sort of anaphylactic shock and I immediately wonder if I swallowed a jungle spider.  the rain is dripping off of my helmet and onto my glasses which are beginning to slip from my head.  hundreds of feet below, I can see other zip lines crossing our path, and I wonder if my glasses fell at the right moment perhaps a passer by would catch them for me.  

I try to look up a bit to see if the ride is nearing completion, but through my rain spotted glasses, and being that I possess the flexibility of a 2x4, I am not able to get a good look.  So I am resigned to keep looking down and contemplate my fate.  After 30 years, this is going to be how I die?  My cable will snap, either from shoddy workmanship, or years of jungle spider bite marks, and I will plummet 800 feet to my death.  I didn't even get to see the cruise ship.  I hate Puerto Rico.  

Suddenly I'm snapped out of my mortal epilogue by the feeling of my body, slowing down, ever so slightly.  Could it be nearing an end?  I'm going to live?? I try to look up, but remembering my previous lack of flexibility, I just trust that the platform is nearing and I continue to look down, laughing derisively at the ground below me.  You're not getting me this time!  my brief moment of triumph is interrupted however, as I slowly come to a complete stop.  I do my best to look out ahead of me, and see that I'm still 30 yards from the platform, and the ground directly below me is still a good 200 feet down.  I start to hear the sound of cables moving and I think that they are going to pull me in via a pulley- like I was a majestic American flag that they were retiring at the end of a long day... this was not to be however.  straining to look up, I see a guide attach his harness and swing out on the line towards me.  I keep waiting for Dave to catch up to me, but can hear that he is already at the platform... he must have joyfully screamed past me while I was in deep reflection regarding my frail existance.  the guide makes it out to my location.  I can not stress enough how difficult it is for me to lift my head and look forward.  no flexibility (I really need to do some yoga or pilates or something), and I'm wearing a helmet, which doesn't help things.  But exerting all my effort I look up to him.  He is on the line above me, so I'm basically eye level to his crotch.  he says something in Spanish, which I imagined to be a commentary on my body not being aerodynamic enough.  Or something else about how "The Beast" had just made me his... well, you get the picture.  I look up at him with puzzlement in my eyes, and he then says, rather curtly "grab my legs".

and so my worst fears have been realized.  I was left to be towed into the platform like a human tugboat.  I think I would have rather fallen to my death.  The dejection of this scene can not be summed up in words.  Lucky for all of you, it doesn't have to be, for my dear friend Jill, captured the event on tape.  as you watch the guide come out to get me and bring me in on the proverbial "walk of shame", you will hear radio chatter between the guides at the starting point and the guides here on this platform.  Again, I don't know what was being said, but I imagine these guys were saying "can we send the next group?"
"Not yet.  Some Gringo is stuck out on the line, we have to pull him in."
Enjoy.

Hollywood's role in creating Successful Relationships

relationships are never easy.   Whether it be friends, coworkers, family, or your significant other, we may, on occasion, wonder why some of our relationships are great, and others are in the proverbial toilet.  Then we hear a great song on the radio and it seems it was written specifically for us.  it inspires.  that inspiration might lead to a change, it might lead us to work harder, or it might inspire us to appreciate the relationship even more.  the point is, I was pondering one of my relationships this evening and heard a song that perfectly represented the relationship I was thinking about.  You see this relationship has been on my mind quite a bit over the last year.  I was thinking about the relationship with my golf game.  we've been having some differences of opinion lately, and I just wasn't sure what to do about it.  lately I've been avoiding the golf course due to these differences.  Everyday I drive past the course and longingly look at that manicured green grass.  I remember all the good times my golf game and I had on the course.  A smile comes to my face.  but then I think of the times my golf game has hurt me and my smile disappears.  I speed up so as to pass the course as quickly as possible and get it out of my mind. And yet, it's always there, waiting to be called up from the depths of thought.

Tonight after work, I decided to go out and put some work in on "my relationship".  it started great.  We picked up right where we left off last.  My golf game and I were in perfect harmony.  It was glad to see me, and I it.  And for a few glorious minutes, I couldn't remember why we ever stepped away from each other.  Then, as it usually happens, my utter joy came crashing down as I started to hit it everywhere but where I wanted.  "you always fall for this!" I said to myself.  "You let down your guard, thinking THIS time will be different, but it NEVER is! You are a moron!  You should go back and rekindle your relationship with Tennis!"

but feeling determined, I brushed those negative thoughts away and reassured myself that this relationship had promise.  The night rolled on.  there were ups and downs the entire evening.  finally it came time to part ways, but this time with an agreement to not wait so long before seeing each other again.  and as I walked toward my car, the song that epitomizes my relationship with my golf game came through my headphones.

(just for clarification, in the song, I'm Pink and my Golf Game is Nate Ruess)

Me speaking to my Golf Game: 

Right from the start you were a thief, you stole my heart.  

And I, your willing victim.  

I let you see the parts of me that weren't all that pretty,

and with every touch you fixed them...

Just give me a reason

Just a little bit's enough

Just a second we're not broken just bent

And we can learn to love again

It's in the stars

It's been written in the scars on our hearts

We're not broken just bent

And we can learn to love again

Golf Game speaking to me (slight suspension of disbelief here people, just go with it)

I'm sorry I don't understand

Where all of this is coming from

I thought that we were fine

ME: (Oh, we had everything)

Golf Game: Your head is running wild again

My dear we still have everythin'

And it's all in your mind

ME: (Yeah, but this is happenin')

Both of us together:

Just give me a reason

Just a little bit's enough

Just a second we're not broken just bent

And we can learn to love again

I never stopped

You're still written in the scars on my heart

You're not broken just bent

And we can learn to love again

Oh, tear ducts and rust

I'll fix it for us

We're collecting dust

But our love's enough

You're holding it in

You're pouring a drink

No nothing is as bad as it seems

We'll come clean

from this song, you can tell that I feel very strongly about my relationship with my Golf Game.  I think we're gonna be okay.  time will tell.  If you're like me and you too, are having trouble with a relationship in your life.  I encourage you to ask yourself if that relationship is like any specific song that is out there right now.  If you're not sure, here are a few suggestions of places to look: Any Taylor Swift song, Kelly Clarkson, The Cure, 80's ballads, Boyz II Men, NKOTB, Backstreet Boys, NSYNC, James Taylor, I'd imagine a lot of Country Songs, Journey, Marvin Gaye.... there are a multitude.  Soundtracks to various Romantic Comedies, Celine Dion, John Tesh, and many many more.  Once you find a song that you feel represents the relationship, study that song, and act on the inspiration it gives you.  bottom line, just follow your heart.  That's what I did with my Golf Game.

Story Time with Blake, Episode 1

I've been toying with this idea for quite some time now.  as most parents of young kids know (as well as any fans of the nineties TV show hosted by Bill Cosby), kids say the darndest things... Well my kid is no different.  Often, Blake's greatest gems come in the car while we're driving somewhere, which makes it difficult to catch on film.  I've decided to film a weekly segment with Blake where we discuss something that was relevant to that week.  I hope that one day, years from now, Blake will look back on these mini episodes with mortifying embarrassment....and then hopefully fondness.  I wanted to hurry and get the video finished, so I didn't spend as much time on the finishing editing touches as I normally do. I'll take more time if more episodes get picked up by the networks. After watching the final cut, the ambient noise in the background that sounds like some wild animal chomping away at some unsuspecting prey, is actually a semi-docile animal, named Braxton (my sister's dog).  The only way I could get him to stop barking during the shoot, was to give him some treat to nibble on.... unfortunately he had to do it in the same room.... sorry about that.  I always seem to have trouble uploading videos to blogger, so I created a youtube channel and uploaded it there.... here's the link :)

http://youtu.be/7dnUH7mX1ww

New Year's Eve Running Diary 2012

New Year's Eve Diary 2012:

6:15pm: Arrive at Matt and Julie's house after a 3 hour nap (I was worried I wouldn't make it to midnight and also get up in time to be at work tomorrow morning).

6:30pm- food is laid out, looking fantastic. (my goal to lose 20 lbs by march just became more difficult).

7:24pm- fighting the food comatose and contemplating taking a walk around the block (while it's still plus 50 degrees). now that the food has been consumed, pondering the next activity. Bennett is playing with the entertainment system while she attempts to connect to her video camera. She has a video montage she has put together.

7:30pm- conversations in the room range from some undistinguishable baby talk, to Parents directing children to not eat on the carpet/not punch your brother/stop putting that in your nose, to Fiscal Cliff, to expletives under the breath (Bennett as she works with the audio visual equipment).


7:42- A/V Success! home movie time. Bennett has put together a nice compilation of recent and not so recent pics... How fantastic are old family photos?? even photos from 5-10 years ago seem ancient. It's great.

7:45pm- Julie hands out papers for everyone to fill out. "Year End Surveys" (thanks Pinterest).
sample questions:
Favorite food
favorite activity
favorite book
Highlights of 2012:
-greatest lesson learned
-hardest thing of the year
-favorite memory
-what I loved most about 2012
Looking Forward to 2013:
-want to learn
-want to get better at
-biggest goal

Everyone was able to read their answers from last year (I was working last year so this is my first one).

8pm- everyone is talking/reminiscing about 2012 as they fill out their forms. some of the highlights being thrown around include: Good Movies that came out, vacations, baptisms, the end of Riley Nelson's QB career at BYU, and SongPop. Jacob (my nephew) said his fondest memory is when his cousin Luke shot urine into his cast using a squirt gun.... (I didn't catch the backstory of why the urine was put in the squirt gun and who it belonged to, or why they decided to shoot it into a cast, but I thought it was an interesting statement regardless).

once finished filling out the survey, Julie collects them to be opened next year. I think it's a great idea.

8:20-time for bed... just kidding, but I'm not sure I'll make it to 12. I made the mistake of staying up to watch Dark Knight Rises last night and was up until 1:45am. I think my body can only handle one late night a week these days. How sad is that.

8:27-kids are going to play a round of the wrapping paper game before they go to bed (could be some carnage shortly). for those not familiar with the game, you bring out a present that has been wrapped in several layers of wrapping paper. everyone sits in a circle and passes around a pair of dice. if you roll doubles you put on a pair of oven mitts and try to unwrap the present. meanwhile everyone continues to roll the dice. if someone else rolls doubles, that person now puts on the mitts and continues unwrapping the gifts.

 

8:37pm- Wrapping paper game is cut short by crying. it got pretty intense in that circle.

8:42-kids have gone upstairs to bed.... Julie observes how nice it is to have a quiet house...we all nod our heads in agreement.

8:59- a game on niners is on the agenda as Ryan Seacrest does NYE pregame. not the same without Dick Clark (I feel obligated to type that, I'm not sure I actually feel that way. I'm not sure what made DC so good at hosting the New Year's Eve bash. I'm not a huge Seacrest fan, but maybe I just don't have a high expectation for the host...)

9:06- Times Square is looking crazy packed.... and cold. on a side note, I'm not doing so well at the card game we're playing... getting some unlucky draws currently.

Ryan just threw it over to Jenny McCarthy, who is his co-host. Apparently Jenny is letting America decide who she kisses at midnight. The options according to Jenny are: "Sexy Naval Officer, Sexy Fireman, or Average Joe" (the average joe is wearing a mad bomber hat, so he gets my vote).

9:10-I'm making a comeback in the card game...

9:13- NY Rocking Eve puts up a graphic with the TOP 5 Resolutions according to FaceBook:

5-Spend Less, Save More

4-Fall In Love
3-Take More Family Time
2-Enjoy Life More
1-Lose Weight

Interesting top five. On the surface there aren't any surprises. There is conversation around the table that number 4 is an interesting pick. The consensus is that it seems kind of forced. What happens come November and you still haven't checked that off your list? are you going to run out and fall in love with the person standing in front of you at the grocery store so you can fulfill your goal?

9:25- Card Game update. I finished the first game in 2nd place with 4 points. A late rally and some wise decisions allowed me to come back. The second game is also setting up nicely for me.

9:35pm- PSY comes on stage to perform "Gangnam Style"... this leads to a discussion of whether Psy is tired of performing this song. the answer: probably not. Matt makes a comment that it's not like they are asking him to perform any of his other songs, so as long as the gravy boat is floating, he'll ride it out. Curiosity then got to me and I googled the English Translation of his song, which produced the following results:
Here are the "Gangnam Style" lyrics translated in English:

Oppa is Gangnam style
Gangnam style
A girl who is warm and humanly during the day
A classy girl who know how to enjoy the freedom of a cup of coffee
A girl whose heart gets hotter when night comes
A girl with that kind of twist
I'm a guy
A guy who is as warm as you during the day
A guy who one-shots his coffee before it even cools down
A guy whose heart bursts when night comes
That kind of guy
Beautiful, loveable
Yes you, hey, yes you, hey
Beautiful, loveable
Yes you, hey, yes you, hey
Now let's go until the end
Oppa is Gangnam style, Gangnam style
Oppa is Gangnam style, Gangnam style
Oppa is Gangnam style
Eh- Sexy Lady, Oppa is Gangnam style

Eh- Sexy Lady oh oh oh oh

A girl who looks quiet but plays when she plays
A girl who puts her hair down when the right time comes
A girl who covers herself but is more sexy than a girl who bares it all
A sensable girl like that
I'm a guy
A guy who seems calm but plays when he plays
A guy who goes completely crazy when the right time comes
A guy who has bulging ideas rather than muscles
That kind of guy
Beautiful, loveable
Yes you, hey, yes you, hey
Beautiful, loveable
Yes you, hey, yes you, hey
Now let's go until the end
Oppa is Gangnam style, Gangnam style
Oppa is Gangnam style, Gangnam style

Oppa is Gangnam style

Eh- Sexy Lady, Oppa is Gangnam style

Eh- Sexy Lady oh oh oh oh

On top of the running man is the flying man, baby baby

I'm a man who knows a thing or two

On top of the running man is the flying man, baby baby

I'm a man who knows a thing or two

You know what I'm saying

Oppa is Gangnam style
Eh- Sexy Lady, Oppa is Gangnam style
Eh- Sexy Lady oh oh oh oh

This makes me want to write a song in english with a bunch of random sentences and then have someone translate them into Korean for me. There's a strong possibility it becomes a hit (provided I have some wicked cool choreography)

Some of my favorite lines from the song:

A guy who seems calm but plays when he plays
A guy who has bulging ideas rather than muscle
A guy who one-shot's his coffee before it even cools down.

fantastic lyrics, I must say.



9:48- I didn't do so hot in the second round of Niners... After a strong start, I got distracted by the TV festivities and didn't pay attention to my cards...I've dropped considerably in the standings. but third round went well, so I'm back in it.

9:53. Pit Bull just performed on NYRE. someone asked how old Pitt Bull was, stating he looked 40. (sad, because he's actually 32). during Pit Bull's performance, something fell on the stage. Someone*(name witheld to protect guilty party) stated they thought it looked like a bra. This was a surprise to me considering Seacrest just stated it was 38 degrees in NY. after several more camera angles it was determined that it was actually just a string of confetti. that's kind of the same thing right?

10:20- NY rocking Eve ended at 10, so we're currently watching the news...
I've started playing subway surf on my phone, while playing cards and blogging.... looks like I can check off my multi-tasking resolution already. That's gotta be a record time for completing a new year's resolution.

10:30-Niners is over. I finished in third place. a comment was made that the top three finishers in the game all happened to also be playing on their phones/ipads, so chalk one up to the multi-taskers.

10:43- left the festivities a little early to come home. I will not make it to midnight. The Cafe Disco episode of the Office is on TBS right now. Andy and Kelly are in a dance off. classic. I'm flipping between that and Couples Retreat on USA.

I believe this will rap up my New Year's Eve 2012 running diary. now, you may read this and ask yourself a couple questions: 1-why did I just spend the last ___ minutes reading about Ben's New Year's Eve?? well, that's a good question, but this is my blog, so if you came here expecting something different.... I don't know what to tell you.

11:45-*update* I started playing a game on the iPad before bed... and just checked the time. Since I'm so close, I might as well see it thru to midnight.

12:03- The sound of Fireworks down the street filters thru my window...I made it. Happy New Year Everyone!

Let it snow let it snow let it snow

While I'm not a huge fan of the snow (I'm a super lousy skier and even worse snowboarder) and therefore am very happy that I live in Arizona, there are times of the year that I miss it. This is one of those times. I miss looking up from my front drive into the mountains, seeing the deer climbing down the ravines to the foothills, in search of some food. I miss waking up in the morning and going outside to shovel and build snow forts out of the 4 foot snow banks that the city plows left for us in front of our driveway. I miss driving in the snow (just a little). I miss ramming snow banks in Dave's yellow truck, spinning out on the road in our 82 honda civic. I miss the thousand plus time driving up Springville's Center Street, wondering if I would make it the whole way, or have to park somewhere below and hike the rest of the way up. I miss pulling inner tubes behind Josh's car in the high school parking lot (even though Will almost died). I miss BIZZING (I don't think I've even said that word for 10 years)!! I miss Snow Football and Snow ball fights. Sledding up left hand fork in Hobble Creek Canyon, or tubing down the Marriott Center lawn. But most of all, I miss waking up super early on Christmas morning, while it's still dark, and creeping into my living room, seeing the Christmas tree lit up and the reflection glowing in all of the large plate glass windows. Outside I can see the city sleeping, with the twinkling of lights under a blanket of fresh snow. There is something peaceful about snow. Much like watching the sunset on an ocean beach, with the crashing of the tides as your soundtrack or the roaring of a campfire beneath a star-filled night; there is a calming essence when you can look out on a fresh fallen snow from inside a warm house. Perhaps a cup of peppermint hot cocoa in your hands. These are some of the memories I am recalling as I ponder here this wonderful Christmas Eve Night. No matter where life takes us, we're never far from memories of family and friends...and home.

my Fontanini nativity story

Just for a little clarification before I begin.  One of my oldest Christmas memories is playing with the Nativity pieces in the living room of our North Sacramento home.  Those nativity pieces have been a part of Christmas up until I moved out of my parents house.  With my Mom and Dad being in Italy (where they purchased their first sets of Fontanini 24+ years ago), they decided to send the kids Fontanini pieces for Christmas.  But with my Mom, you can always count on something clever (and at times in my youth, cheesy) to go along with the gift.  You see, when you purchase Fontatnini from the store, it comes along with a story card, explaining the background of the character, complete with historically accurate facts for the time.  So my Mom, wanted us kids to choose a character and write stories about them.  Here is my first story.  It is not historically accurate.  That is my only disclaimer :)




"My Name is Reuben"

My name is Reuben. Strange things always seem to happen to me.  Once, when I was 12, my father came home fromwork with a dog.  It had been wanderingaround the streets of Bethlehem, looking for food.  My father is not what I would call adog person, so the fact that he even noticed the puppy, let alone the fact thathe brought it to me as a gift, is very strange indeed.  “It will teach you responsibility” he said tome.  I named my new pet Nero.  My parents asked why I chose a name of Romandescent for my dog, to which I had no real reply.  I just liked the name Nero.  Nero, did in fact, teach me responsibility,but not in the normal way one might expect.

My father was a tax collector in Bethlehem.  And while, he didn’t like Roman rule in ourcountry, he didn’t mind the paycheck and certain perks from being anattaché.  He always thought I would growup to be a civil servant as well, but it just didn’t seem that interesting tome.  My mother came from a family offarmers out in the country about Bethlehem. Thinking I needed an outlet to learn responsibility and hard work, myfather and mother sent me to shepherd apprentice with my mother’s brother.  Since I now had a herding dog, my father saidit was fate.  I think my father justwanted me and Nero out of the house, as this was his busiest time of theyear.  Thousands were coming intoBethlehem in the next few months to pay their taxes, and my father didn’t needan inattentive son and his mangy dog bothering him when he came home.

I had only been in the hills for a few nights when the“visitation” happened.  Some of the othershepherds hated being in the hills.  Theywould much rather be back on their farms with their families and a roof overtheir heads, but they said it was necessary to go and get the sheep to bringthem in for shearing.  I actuallypreferred the hills.  It was much lessengaging work.  Back on the farm, therewere so many chores to do, but out here, my main goal is to keep the sheeptogether and make sure they don’t wander off. Occasionally a coyote or two would have to be scared off, but generally,Nero took care of that and I spent my time laying down looking up at thestars.  It was on one such night, wheremy life changed forever.  I had justfallen asleep, when Nero woke me with repeated nudges to the back of myhead.  I sat up and looked around.  The sky was no longer dark, but instead atremendous light had taken its place. 

Fear shot through my body as the other Men in the camp alsoawakened to the alarming sight.  The fearwas soon replaced with pure astonishment as the Heavenly Being spoke to us,announcing the birth of a Savior.  As ifone Messenger wasn’t enough to get our attention, a multitude of beingsappeared, singing and praising God.  Asthe messengers disappeared and the light faded back into darkness, we were leftalone…(that last sentence reminds me of a song my forefather Joseph sang abouthis multi-colored coat.  He was verytalented).

There was little discussion over what to do next, as none inthe group were of a mind to ignore a heavenly visitation.  But, knowing that we all couldn’t go intoBethlehem to see this Savior and leave our flocks unattended, we decided toplay “nose goes” to decide who should stay behind.  The game is simple.  The last person to touch their nose in thegroup had to stay behind.  Jonathon wasthe unlucky one.  Figured thought, Healways lost “nose goes”.  Having decidedthe caretaker of the sheep, the rest of us went into town.

On the way into town, I recalled the things which themessenger said, wondering to myself why they would send us to a Manger to findthe Savior of the World.  I would’vethought the King of Kings would be born under more extravagantcircumstances.  After some searching, wefinally found the right stable. 

Upon entering the stable, those thoughts vanished.  In an everyday setting, a stable is loud,smelly, and dirty.  But this sceneprovided the complete opposite.  EvenNero stood at quiet attention, as if he was soaking in all around him.  I was doing the same thing.  I had seen many babies in my day, but nonethat captivated the room like this one did. I knew instantly that the stories I had been told all my life regardingthe prophecies to come, were going to be fulfilled by this tiny infant.  I stood for what must have been hours.   Upon leaving, none of us could contain ourastonishment.  We told everyone we met onthe way back to the countryside.  We weretelling everyone how grateful we were to witness such a miraculous event, allthe while Glorifying God.

In all my years, I’ve been counseled to be responsible inpreparation of becoming a man.  I’venever been excited for that time, and have often shied away from suchpreparations.  But seeing that infant inthe manger, and knowing the tremendous responsibilities that awaited him, Icould no longer avoid my own duties, as I had an acute and solidifyingknowledge that he would not avoid his.

 

16For behold, I, God, have ^asuffered these things for all, that they might not ^bsuffer if they would ^crepent;

17But if they would not repent they must ^asuffer even as I;

18Which ^asuffering caused myself, even God, the greatest of all, to tremblebecause of pain, and to bleed at every pore, and to suffer both body andspirit—and would that I might ^bnot drink the bitter cup, and shrink—

19 Nevertheless,glory be to the Father, and I partook and ^afinished my preparations unto the children of men.

Doctrine and Covenants 19:16-19

Merry Christmas to all my Family and Friends! May this holiday season bring us all perspective on true meaning of the season.  As my Stake President said today in Conference "may we spend less this year and give more of ourselves".

 

Cheers!

A story about aging.

Gather 'round children, and let me recite a tale of when I thought i was still young...
Not too long ago, in fact, it was yesterday, I stopped by the Great Clips by my house on the way home from work for a haircut (as I've often done). The girl begins cutting my hair and starts making small talk (I've blogged before about the concept of barbershop gab, or salon prattle and the like and confessed then that I wasn't a great conversationalist during haircuts. It's like my kryptonite). The place was really busy this particular visit. It was close to an hour wait time for walk-ins. I used the great clips app to check in online as I was leaving work so I only waited 5 minutes once i got there.
She apologized for the wait and asked what I had been up to this fine day.
"Just getting off work" I answered.
"Oh really?? Do you always work Saturdays?"
"It really depends on business, but typically I work Saturdays so I can take Sunday off."
"Oh." She paused. "For church?"
"Yeah that's one of the reasons."
"Are you LDS?" She asked.
"...I am in fact." I replied.
"Oh good, I just realized that could have been awkward if you weren't. I am too."
"So do you have any kids?" She asked as she maneuvered her scissors around my scalp.
"I have a 4 year old son. That's the other reason I prefer Sundays off. I get to pick him up from his mom's on Sundays."
"Oh that's cool." She continued to artfully work around my cowlicks. A brief pause as she stepped away to check someone else in, and she returned to continue the cut. After a few minutes of back and forth about why I was divorced (yeah I know- this girl is cutting my hair and asking me for my life story at the same time-I don't know what to say), there was a brief pause. "So, are you dating anyone?" She inquired as she moved on to my neck line.
"I'm not." I answered, wondering if this conversation was sounding as strange to the others in the room as it did in my head.
"Why not? Just not interested?" She pressed on.
"No it's not that. I go to a family ward and I don't have a tremendous amount of time to devote to dating at this time, also I don't know many single LDS girls, so that combination results in being single right now." I could feel the eyes of the waiting patrons looking in our direction.
(And here is the kicker boys and girls)
"Why a family ward?" She asked. "Aren't there singles wards for older people?... I mean, not filled with 18 yr olds?" I could tell she added the last part to help sooth the zinger she inadvertently laid about the old folks.
"Yes, I believe there are." I thought about asking her how old she thought I was, but didn't want to set myself up for two wise-cracks in a row. 'Fool me once...' I thought to myself. "I'm a couple years from the 30 and over ward. So maybe ill check it out when they let me in."
I don't know if it was the shock that I was under 30 or what but I saw a concerned look on her face as she was finishing my neck line.
"I think I cut you. Sorry about that! You were right, you do have a lot of cowlicks!"
"It happens. Don't worry about it." I replied, thinking it was almost poetic justice to end the haircut and conversation on that note.

I'm not sure what happened for those 25 minutes but I did get a haircut. And also came away with the knowledge that I'm no longer 'young'. So mission accomplished I guess.

Some Pictures

It's true what they say "A Picture tells a thousand words".  In my experience, those words are typically "What is going on there??"

I was going through my pictures on my phone deciding which ones to delete (I'm trying to free up some space so I can purchase season three of Avatar: The Last Airbender.... For Blake of course)

I realized that there were several that I hadn't shared. So here's a little catch up:

Blake and I walked in the Children's Miracle Network 5k.  And when I say Blake and I walked, I actually mean Blake walked 1 block of the 5k, and I carried him the rest of the way.  I wish I had a picture of this, but when he gets tired and doesn't want to walk anymore, he bends over at the waist and lets his arms hang down in exhaustion.  It was a good time nonetheless, and despite Blake's aversion to walking, he still got a medal, which made him happy.

 

Last week, I went with some friends over to the Coyote's Ice Den for some Curling lessons.  Now, when I watched Curling during the most recent Winter Olympics, I specifically remember saying to myself "Not much of an athletic sport.  These people call themselves Olympians?"

The next day, both my quads, my hips, and my upper back were eating my words. The above left shows the furthest I can go without falling over.  But I'm nowhere near how low the veteran Curlers get.....Props to them.  We had a 45 minute lesson on the history of the game and some basic verbiage.  Then we spent an hour on the ice falling over, learning, and falling some more.  After that we concluded with an hour match.  We played "4 Ends" (basically 4 rounds).  A professional match goes 10 ends, and I'm not sure I could walk after doing 10 rounds, so I'm glad they only had us do 4.  The important thing is that we won 6-0.

The other night, I walked out of my room to go downstairs, and found Blake just laying there.  I didn't hear a loud noise, so I knew he hadn't fallen.  Plus he wasn't crying, so I was curious as to what he was doing.  When I asked him, he replied "I'm just taking a break".... well there you go.

Tis the Season... for Martinelli's!!!!

You can always tell when Fall is moving into Winter.  Days are shorter. Halloween decorations give way to Turkey's, Pilgrim's and Stalk's of multi-colored Maize.  Some select few are even playing Christmas music already.... which, I'm ok with actually.  But for me there are two things that really let me know that Winter is upon us.  College Basketball starts.  And grocery stores start displaying case upon case of Martinelli's Sparkling Cider!  (And the Multitude rejoiced)

You see, for many years, I've had an affection for Martinelli's Sparkling Cider (to be referenced as MSC for the remainder of this post).  Sparkling Apple, Apple-Cranberry, Peach, Mango, Grape, Raspberry, Wildberry, you name it.  Combine it with Apple and throw some bubbles in there and we're good to go. 

I remember celebrating my first Holiday Season in the Mission field.  I loaded up on Martinelli's.  It was comforting to me.  At night, after planning, I would sit, looking out into the cold Northern California Mountains, and sip som MSC while the Mormon Tabernacle Choir serenaded me with Christmas Hymns.

I also remember a time, not so long ago.... before I moved out of my Condo.  I had stopped by the store on my way home and picked up some Martinelli's.  Before I went to bed, I remembered I had told my sister I would record "Dear John" and put it on a dvd for her.  I came out of my room and went to the dvd player to check the disc before finalizing.  I started it at the beginning and then hit fast forward to ensure I got all of it.  while it was fast forwarding I went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of MSC.  I didn't even turn the lights on in the front room-why bother, I was just going to be there a few minutes.  I just sat there, using an empty Cooler as a bench, watching a Cliff's Notes version of Dear John, while I downed a bottle of MSC.  Occasionally I would play it back at normal speeds just to make sure I got the audio... or to gain more understanding of what I was watching (It can be a confusing movie to watch in double time with no sound).  Below is a picture I just drew to help illustrate the scene.  I drew Channing Tatum in green because he was in the army, or marines or something.  The girl was blonde I think, so she's shown in yellow ( I don't know what's more sad about this story.  The fact that I knew Channing Tatum was in it, the fact I don't know the name of the girl that's in it, or the fact that I watched it in the dark, while sitting on a cooler and drinking a bottle of MSC?  Definitely not the latter.  Drinking the MSC was the best part).  the red box is the cooler.  the bottle next to me, is...well self-explanatory.  I drew squiggly black lines around to give the "dark room" feel.  my bedroom light is on, which provided the only light during this experience outside of the lights from the Screen.  In anticipation of my Oscar for set design, I'd like to thank Blake for letting me use his crayons.

So, Children, the moral of the story is this.  No matter where you are, or who you're with.  Things will always be better if you add some Martinelli's Sparkling Cider.

Time Machines aren't real

Let’s think about time travel. But less “Back to the Future” time travel, and more “Ebenezer Scrooge” time travel.  Think of yourself 10 years ago.  Imagine you are visiting an event in your life back then.  What kinds of things do you notice about your personality, your relationships with family, friends and loved ones?  What were the goals, and hopes, and dreams of your 10 year younger self?  Now picture yourself 10 years ago, visiting your current self.  What are the observations that the younger self makes regarding your current state?  Have goals been accomplished, have priorities changed at all, or are they mostly the same?

I venture that for some of us, both experiences may cause some slight depression (even if only upon seeing the clothing/hair styles our younger self was wearing 10 years ago). On the other hand, this self reflection, might cause us great joy. Perhaps we landed that dream job we had hoped for 10 years ago.  Perhaps our family or social relationships are exactly what we dreamed they would be. For some of us, we may be doing exactly what we thought we would be doing 10 years ago.  For some-maybe not. For some, life in 2012 is possibly even better than we thought it would be 10 years ago.   Regardless of our perception of what we thought the world would be like in 2012way back in 2002-and regardless of how much our 2012 self has lived up to what the 2002 self thought we would be-the reality is, there is a certain clarity that comes from examining how our goals and hopes and dreams change throughout the years.

Now you may be asking yourself, to what honor we owe this dimensionally diluted discourse. Has Ben started drinking? Has he come across an old bottle of percocets that may have expired back in 2005? The answer is no to both. Maybe it’s because it is the middle of October, and I feel like this year has gone by faster than years previous for some reason.  Maybe it’s because it is an election year.  Maybe it’s because the author has a four year old son that seems to grow up more and more every week, and his father just isn’t ready for it.  In the mission field, it’s common to have “companion inventory” in an effort to resolve issues, build a more efficient partnership, and ultimately a more successful companionship.  Often it becomes necessary to conduct a companionship inventory when the two missionaries no longer seem to be working in unison.  Perhaps distractions, or discouragement, or even misperceptions have caused them to lose focus on their shared goal. 

I think the philosophy of an “inventory” is quite sound.  Whether it is an inventory with your spouse or roommates, or friends, or even yourself, it is nice to occasionally recalibrate your compass, check your bearings , and identify areas that could use more of your focus. 

I encourage all of you to take inventory.  If you are having a hard time getting started, think of these questions:

“If my 2002 self could see my 2012 self, what is the first thing they would notice?”

“What does my 2012 self-want to see out of my 2022 self, ten years from now?”

Admittedly, this post is a little out of character for me.  If you were attracted to the catchy title, only to be let down by the lack of humorous quips you've no doubt come to expect from me, I apologize.  I assure you my soul searching, thought provoking posts are few and far between.  Mostly I leave that up to some of my friends, who are much better at it than I. 

4th of July festivities in So Cal

The following story really happened.  The names have not been changed to protect the innocent, but some names have been made up for characters in the story for which formal acquaintance was not made prior to the telling of said story.

Before I tell this story of Patriotic Courage, I need to fill you in on a little back story.  Some would say there is something wrong with me.  There is one thing I tend to do sometimes that some people find annoying.  I regularly give money to homeless people/vagrants/transients/ you name it. Along the same vein, I tend to pick up hitch hikers and will sometimes watch a strange man's bag at the airport if he asks me to, even though he is running really fast away from the bag as he's asking (ok, that last part hasn't actually happened, but I hope it doesn't because I will probably say 'yes').

I don't know what it is, and I've had these conversations with many friends, most of whom share the opinion that I'm crazy, and that I'm either a)being swindled b)putting my life in danger c)enabling a bad and possibly illegal habit, or all of the above.  (side note to "the back story" of the proceeding story that actually happened: I'm listening to iTunes right now and Total Eclipse of the Heart is playing.  Bonnie Tyler really nailed this one.  But it reminded me of a great YouTube clip titled "Total Eclipse of the Heart-Literal Version"  check it out, it's fantastic).

So, again, I'm not really sure why, but if someone, who appears less fortunate asks for a few dollars, something inside me can't say no.  And I can't lie and say I don't have any money.  Not because I'm against lying, which I am, but I also believe a white lie is sometimes better than the truth, and often employ this rule in my job, when speaking to guests, so it's not that I'm George Washington and the apple tree honest, but it's more of a self preservation kind of thing.  Lets say a homeless guy asks for some money, and I say "I'm sorry, I don't have any cash on me" and then this guy pulls a shiv of some sort and robs me.... well, if it turns out I didn't have cash, I'd like to think the guy is just going to take my wallet and leave.  But if I did happen to have cash, after I told him i didn't? well, then I imagine he's going to be so upset that I would have the nerve to be dishonest during a mugging that he would probably murder me.  So instead of lying, I just try to carry a few small bills and then I can give them a dollar or two and feel like I helped out in some small way, and ended up living thru the night.  Then I justify that if, this gentleman is indeed going to use my donation for some illegal, or immoral purpose, I just tell myself that it was only a couple bucks, and he's not going to get a lot of whatever illegal material he was hoping to procure. 

Don't get me wrong, it's not like I'm made of disposable cash, or that I run purposefully thru neighborhoods with high "Transient" population, making it rain dollar bills.  I'm not that generous.  It's just that if someone asks me, I have to do it.  And I have a really hard time ignoring them if they start to speak to me.... and believe me I try, but I can't do it.  I think it goes back to 10th grade when J.R. Savageau asked me if I would buy a Vicodin off of him for $5.  I had no need for the pill, I'm not exactly sure it was actually a Vicodin or not, but I couldn't say no, so I gave him five bucks, he gave me a pill (I've since been prescribed Vicodin for different injuries, and the pill he gave me looked nothing like the ones from the Pharmacy) and in turn, I walked to the nearest trash can and threw it away.  Weird I know.  I guess I could have just given him $5 and told him to keep his giant, supplement-like looking, Vicodin, so that he could sell it and make twice as much on that one pill, but again, I'm not an enabler.

Having established that there is apparently something wrong with me, lets move on to the story at hand:

I went to Ventura Beach over 4th of July weekend to visit my friend Amanda.  We spend the 3rd in Santa Barbara.  I was looking for the cast of PSYCH, hoping to be an extra in one of the scenes, since the show takes place in SB, but after some searching around and consulting with my friend GOOGLE, found out that PSYCH may "take place" in SB, but it's filmed in Vancouver.  I was disappointed with this, but it was still a great day trip.  We got some pretty sweet "patriotic gear" to wear on the 4th.

We drove down to LA Live the night of the 4th.  We could see some fireworks from the hotel, which was pretty awesome.  Even more so, since Amanda had a few pair of 3D glasses, that totally make the fireworks seem like they are coming right at you.  They provide all the exhilaration of being right next to the firework, without the downside of 2nd degree burns and smoke inhalation....

after the fireworks we decided to go hit the town in our sweet outfits.  I went downstairs and asked the concierge where we should go.  He gave a few options up in the financial district.  Before he got to me, I overheard him telling a nice couple from the UK to stay away from the east part of LA.  "if you get to Main street, you're too far east, and it's a little shady over there" he said to them.

After giving me a map, he sent us on our way.  We walked outside to get a cab and the Bellman asked where we were headed.  We said the "financial district" he looked a little puzzled at our destination choice but didn't say anything.  He hailed a cab and told the driver to take us to "Pershing square".

The cab driver was speaking angrily on the phone the duration of our ride (to be fair, he might not have been angry, it just sounded like that...does that give you a little idea of what our cab driver was like? I hope so, because if I go into further detail, it may come off as politically incorrect or racist).

The cab driver turns on 7th street and I see a few of the restaurants the concierge mentioned to us.  We pass those and the cab driver keeps driving east...(wait for it).  He's still talking on the phone and suddenly makes a right turn on a one way street.  Then he pulls over and asks us to get out.  Confused, we ask if this is Pershing Square? "no, Spring st.  the guy told me Spring street." 
"no, he told you Pershing Square.  Are we near Pershing Square?"
"yes, of course, it's back behind us, but this is a one way street"
"so if we walk up Spring, we'll find Pershing Square?"
"yes.  $7.50 please"
So we pay him, and step out onto the street.  Now I'm sure Spring (which is one block from Main street, just for the record) is a very nice street....during the day.  But at 9:30 at night, it was as if it had changed from a bustling street to "Spring Street Motel, minus the rooms.  Grab some sidewalk everyone, make yourselves comfortable!"

there were homeless people everywhere! I mean, to the point you had to watch where you stepped! So we started making a quick walk up Spring, towards what we thought was Pershing Square.  the homeless crowd got a little more dense, and a little more awake as we got further north.  During our walk, I'm looking at Google Maps on my phone and realize we're 2 blocks east of Pershing square and we're not exactly heading the right direction.  We decided to make a left at the next street.  We pass through several groups of people standing outside of various liquor stores, a few of the crowds talking to some ladies who were in the street and walking... street-walkers perhaps.... not really sure.

Keep in mind, this whole time we're wearing these outfits:

Not exactly Conspicuous.

As we're walking, I try to  look up the closest restaurant that the concierge recommended.  I see that Perch (a french bistro with a rooftop patio that the concierge said we could see fireworks from) is not too far, maybe 3 more blocks.  So we head there as quickly as we could, without appearing totally obvious that we were running possibly for our lives..  We get to where the google map says the restaurant should be, but can't find a sign or even a building that looks like it's been inhabited in the past 4 years...  At this moment a fairly large gentleman starts coming down the sidewalk toward us, at a fairly deliberate pace.  This is somewhat disconcerting, so Amanda makes a quick decision to cross the street.  We didn't have a little green man telling us it was ok to walk, but apparently Amanda had no regard for the jay walking laws in California, so we crossed.  Which eluded the large man, who, as he got closer, seemed to be talking to himself, only it was more like a lowered voice yell.  You know that voice when you are trying to get your kid to behave in a public setting and you don't want to speak too loudly to draw attention, but you want to make sure the kid gets the sense of urgency in your voice?  yeah, that's what this guy was doing, but to himself.

We crossed safely, and without any sort of ticket (mainly because, although we saw many police cruisers go up and down each of the streets we were on, not one of them seemed the slightest bit interested in stopping in that neighborhood unless it was an absolute emergency.

We decided the safest bet would be to walk back down to 7th street which seemed to have more people walking around, and more people means more witnesses, and I'm always a fan of that.  On our way down to 7th what do we find? you guessed it 'Pershing Square'! it was no where near where the cab driver said it was, but now that I think of it, he must have got confused and upon realizing where he was, decided to "cut bait" and get out of there as soon as possible.  So I can't really blame him I guess... at least, that's what I tell myself to keep the rage of his abandoning us from creeping up.  Pershing Square seems like it would be pretty cool...during the day (This daytime appeal seems to be popular with this part of town).  there was a small stage set up in the middle of the square with rows of chairs still set as well.  but whatever event/concert they held there had been concluded several hours before, because several transients had already moved into the square for the night.  we cut through on our way to 7th and upon reaching our designated street, made a right (heading west....like the setting sun, we too, were looking for some refuge along the western shores of safety and security).  because there were more tourists still up and moving on 7th street, more of the transients were also awake.  as we walked down the sidewalk we came up on a lady that (and this is a source of disagreement between Amanda and myself) had a terrible limp.  Now, Amanda maintains that this lady started limping the moment she saw us coming up behind her, but I think she was limping the whole time.  Either way it was very convincing.  Amanda passes her on the right, and as I go to follow, I hear the woman cry out "can you help me out? anything would help!"... She got me.  up to this point no one else had actually called out for help.  So I stopped and reached in my pocket.  Suddenly I got a sick feeling.  I remembered that I got some cash out of the ATM at the hotel, but I didn't get smaller change from the desk, so I only had a couple $20's in cash.  Typically when I travel, I keep some cash in one pocket, my main credit and debit cards along with my drivers license in another pocket, and my wallet in yet another pocket.  This way, if I'm robbed, I can give them my wallet, and not worry about losing the important stuff...  (I have a problem I know, but this is the stuff I think about...how to get through a mugging with the least amount of collateral damage).

Since I had already reached into my pocket, there was no turning back.  It's not like I could pull my hand back out and give the lady...a high five?  that wouldn't do.  that would just make her mad, and though I'm sure I could outrun her with that terrible limp she had, it just felt wrong, so I handed her the $20 and turned to catch up to Amanda (who had conveniently just kept walking as if nothing had happened.  She's well adjusted to "ignoring peddlers and the like".  I could not believe I gave that lady $20!? I felt kind of sick about it, but she was super grateful.  I could hear her muttering some sort of thank you as I hurried to catch up, but I kind of wanted to yell out to all the other vagrants, that "the old lady with the limp had all my money, so ask her if you want anything..." but I thought that may cause some in-fighting amongst the 'street people' (I'm just trying to think of different ways to describe them, as I'm not sure exactly what the PC term is, and to keep calling them homeless, may sound a bit harsh...The next time I see one of them, I'll have to ask what they prefer to be referred to as).

at this point, we have been walking for roughly 14 blocks, and we were hungry.  So we just chose the next restaurant we saw and went in.  It was a Japanese place.  Sushi on the 4th of July? what could be more American than that?  just in case you forgot, we walked into the Sushi place wearing this:

After Sushi, we decided to just walk back to the hotel.  Amanda was fairly certain the direction we needed to go, so we started walking again.  As we walked south toward the hotel, we came across two men and a lady sitting at a bus stop.  The two guys asked us if we knew where The Mayan was.  we said no.  The guys were from Sydney and this was their last night in LA and they were looking to go dancing.  They said some other guy that had walked past a few minutes earlier had recommended they go to The Mayan.  The girl was from San Diego, and was wearing heels.  From the looks of things, she had had a long night.  After consulting google maps again, we saw that The Mayan wasn't terribly far, although it was back toward the east part of town and we weren't thrilled about that.  The guys from Sydney asked if we wanted to go with them, and we said yes of course, because anytime you can walk to a shady part of town to a dance club that some stranger recommended to two foreign guys and a girl from San Diego that you just met, you gotta do it right? Right.  So we started the walk.  Just for a visual reference, the red pin is The Mayan and the purple pin is where we were.

you can barely see it, but beneath the red pin are the words "The Mayan" and a picture of a martini glass, which one would assume meant a bar, and, specifically for these Travelers from Down Under, a dance floor of some sort.  I only point this out as a foreshadowing of sorts, we'll get back to it.

So, we walk down Flower and turn left on Olympic.  the San Diego chick is having a hard time with the heels, so she slows down a bit and one of the Aussie's stays behind with her.  In my mind, I'm thinking this could be a trap and I'm immediately thinking of our exit strategy, should things go south.  We start talking with the other guy, and exchange pleasantries of why we're all in LA that night.  We tell him what we've heard about going past Main Street, and he agrees we shouldn't do it because, as he puts it "when Americans tell you not to go somewhere because it's shady, you better not do it...because you guys have guns and stuff."  I thought it was a very interesting comment he made.  To me, Sydney would seem just as scary in parts as LA is (that statement is based entirely off of TV and speculation, being that I've never been to make my own assessment).  However, this gentleman (I'm going to call him Scott from now on, mainly because it's easier, and I don't remember ever getting his actual name).  So Scott, told us a little about Sydney, and how, over a week or two, you could visit most every part of town and then you'd be bored after that.  After that glowing description, I've crossed Sydney off of my bucket list.
We get down to Hill street and we look down the street toward where the map says The Mayan is, and we see a giant building with "The Mayan Theater" written on it. If this building has been occupied in the last 5 years, it doesn't look like it.  At least not in the dark, and not from the outside.  by this time we were half a block ahead of San Diego and Aussie #2.  Aussie 2 yells up to Scott (I don't know why I named one and distinguished the other with a number, just go with it) "is it up there mate? (he really said mate, I'm not making it up.  turns out they really call each other that, and it's not something Hollywood thought up for the Crocodile Dundee Series).  Scott yelled back that we found it, sort of. then Amanda yelled back that it doesn't seem like a dance club and out of no where a semi drunk guy who had been walking past us, turns around and says "That Place isn't open! Haha!" Which I thought was sort of uncalled for on his part.  we cross the street to get a closer look at what I could only imagine was a theater in some Stephen King novel.  San Diego sits down on a bus stop bench and pulls out her phone.  She's calling a cab to take them to Sunset Blvd.  Scott still thinks this is the right place, because, after all, a random stranger told them this was a great place (Are all Aussies this trusting? I kind of like their childlike gullibility....and their accent).  Amanda and I volunteer to walk down to the end of the block to see if anything else is down that way.  We worked out a signal system with Scott.  If there was something promising down at the end of the block, we would waive our hands above our heads (as if we were landing an airplane).  if there was nothing down there we would wave our hands down by our waste, like a referee signaling a missed field goal.  we walk down to the end of the block, and not only is there no promising dancing to be had at that end of the block, it was perhaps one of the scariest looking neighborhoods I've ever seen at night.  It was one of those streets that you look at, and get a chill down your neck just thinking about the self-wetting reaction you would have if you had to walk down that street by yourself.  as we turn toward the other three up the block and vehemently waived our hands in the failed field goal manner, we noticed a man coming up on us, so we started to briskly walk back toward the group.  Still in my mind, I wasn't sure if these guys were planning on killing us, but I thought I'd rather die at the hands of someone with a cool accent than the nefarious looking character following us up the street.  he had a chain attached to his wallet, and it made an ominous sound as he walked behind us.  I recalled how  all the kids with chains on their wallets back in Jr. High School, and how I didn't remember this noise coming from any of them when they walked.  Then I figured that this guy must really have need of this chain wallet as opposed to a fashion statement, and so the sound is much more purposeful...

When we got back to the group they had ordered the cab and were waiting.  They asked if we wanted to go to Sunset with them, but at this point, we decided to head back to the hotel.  We parted ways with a hearty good luck, and made our way back to LA Live.

On the way back we passed no less than 2 different clubs that could have fulfilled the purpose our out of town friends were looking to fulfill, which we thought was both ironic and pretty sad (mainly because that girl from San Diego's feet must have been killing her by this time).

The next morning we decided to go to Venice Beach.  We drove down and parked, and started walking down the boardwalk.  We saw some 5 "weed doctor" tents.  I commented at how different it must be to walk the boardwalk now, as opposed to a few years ago before Marijuana was legalized.  I mean, I'm sure there were still people smoking weed on the boardwalk before, but they had to be much more discreet, since there are a fair amount of police officers on bikes down there.  Now, though, some guys were smoking right in front of a pair of policmen without so much as a second thought... very interesting.  The boarwalk was everything I had hoped it would be...in terms of people watching anyway.  So many great photo opportunities, but I was too nervous to take my video camera out from my pocket to film some of the freak shows there were out there.  we walked thru a group of guys who were blasting hip hop on a boombox, and one of them stopped me.  "bro, you want to listen to some music? I'm an up and coming rapper, and this CD has 15 of my tracks.  It's free.  I just ask for a small donation."
"oh ya? this is you on this cd?"
"Yeah man, 15 tracks i've laid down.  I hope you enjoy, here let me sign this cd"
I had broken down some smaller bills before we checked out of the hotel, so I was prepared this time.  I pulled a $5 bill out of my pocket.
"Here you go man"
"Aah, thanks man, but we're asking for $10 if you can spare it, help a 'G' out..."
"sorry, $5 is all I've allotted myself for new cd's today"
That's really what I said.... I didn't want to say that was all I had (the reasons we've gone over previously), so that's what I came up with on the spot.

He was ok with the $5, but I could tell he was regretting signing the cd for such a pitiful donation.  right when I finished with him, another guy tried to get me to donate for his cd, but I stayed firm and told him I could only buy one up and coming album today...  Looking around, I found Amanda had made a bee line for a vendor cart and was perusing some hand bags in order to look busy so no one would approach her.  Once I caught up, we kept moving, only after Amanda told me that I was a sucker and should have said no.

I made it down the rest of the boardwalk without giving any more money away, which I counted as a positive.  Towards the end of the boardwalk we saw the guy in roller skates that is seen on tons of movies (Fletch comes to mind right away).  It was awesome.

The rest of the day was spent driving down Rodeo Drive, up into Beverly Hills and then over to Hollywood.

All in all, our 4th of July didn't go as planned, but it did provide some fantastic memories.  I can say they're fantastic now, because we didn't die, or contract any communicable diseases from any transients, which made it a successful trip!
Can't wait for next year's Independence Day!