Thanks for all your hard work, here's a coupon

In any gratuity heavy industry, there are bound to be weird tips. Who can forget Home Alone 2, where Rob Schneider gets tipped in a piece of Wrigley's chewing gum? When I got to my hotel room in Canada, the houseman was kind enough to bring me some toiletry items, as my bags had not arrived with me. I asked him to hold on, grabbed my cash, then realized I hadn't exchanged my money yet. And the US Dollar is not doing quite as well as the Canadian Dollar. I apologized and told him I only had American money, and gave him 5 bucks. he said it was fine of course, but after he took that to the bank to exchange it, he probably netted $2 after the exchange rate and transaction fees took place. I don't think I saw that houseman again for the entire 2 weeks I was there. Then today, my first day back at work, one of my Desk Agents told me about her husband, who is a bellman at another resort nearby. He checked someone in, took them to the room and helped them with their bags. The woman asked him to hold on, while she fumbled through her clutch. "here you go. thanks for your help." It was a coupon for free butter!!!

Can you believe that?? Butter!? Not even a coupon for an entree item, or something of substance, but instead, butter. I forgot to ask, but I wonder how that went down when they pooled their tips that evening. "ok, we got $336 and a butter coupon. Who wants the butter coupon?? anyone?"

I told my desk agent, I was going to try that out as a joke the next time I travel. I get diaper and formula coupons from Safeway all the time. I just want to see the look on the person's face when I tip them in a coupon, instead of cash... then laugh, and give them cash afterwards for being a good sport.

People are funny...

Maybe it's a sign...

Every time I open my wallet, I see the same thing... well besides the lack of Benjamin Franklins that is... I have a wager ticket from Wynn Las Vegas. That ticket is worth $75. I won it on a 3 team parlay. The nice thing about placing bets at a well run establishment like the Wynn, is they let you mail in your winning tickets, and they will mail you back the cash. I have yet to do this however. Part of me is worried that if I mail in this ticket, I will never see it, nor the cash again. Like the foolish men who hid their treasures, only to never find them again. So I'm waiting until I pass through Las Vegas again to collect my winnings. The ticket is good for 122 days, I placed the wager on the 4th of March. I'm driving to Utah on the 5th of July. Cutting it close, but I think I'll make it. Although I'm driving to Utah with Blake. That could be an interesting romp through the Wynn with a soon to be 3 year old. I wonder if they will valet my 01 Buick Century....
These are the things that cross my mind when I open my wallet...followed by "hey, where did that stack of Benjamins go??"

"It's too hot for April," he said in jest, as many of his friends in Utah freeze

So it was crazy hot last week, we even broached 100 degrees, which is ridiculous. Thankfully, it's cooled down to a blissful 84 the past couple of days. I recently got an iPhone and I have to say, one of my favorite apps is the weather one. I have my two destinations as Scottsdale, so I can see what to expect at the hotel, weather-wise, and secondly: Springville. Since it was so hot last week, I didn't check my weather app all that often, for fear of seeing a possible temp increase...but that also means I hadn't checked Springville either, and it wasn't until I caught a glimpse of the Conference Center, and there were what appeared to be frozen particles of some hydrogen and oxygen based matter floating down to the ground. My sister saw it as well, and called my parents (who are back in Utah for a couple weeks doing doctor's visits). "Yes, we got 6 inches at our place." they said...It's such an interesting phenomenon that 700 miles away, it is 60 degrees cooler or warmer, depending on the direction the crow is flying....If that doesn't prove God has a sense of humor, I don't know what does. Even now, as I am typing this, it is currently 39 degrees in Springville, with a high of 61 tomorrow; while, at the same time, it is 71 degrees outside, and quite pleasant. I just returned from the drive in theater, and it was wonderfully balmy outside. Now, I know what some are thinking as they are reading this... "Ben, why are you rubbing this in? Don't you know that everywhere else in this blessed country is going through what seems to be the longest winter in history?!" and the answer is, Yes. I do realize that. I'm not writing it to rub it in, I just think it interesting. But to be fair, you all can blog about the lovely Spring, Summer, and Fall seasons where you are, while we go through the Hot, Hotter, and Not Quite as Hot, but Monsoonie, seasons down here. Give and Take, I say. But I'm happy to report I may get to see some good old fashioned winter yet... I'm going to Nova Scotia for 2 weeks at the end of the month, and their current 10 day forecast has a high of 52 degrees and thunderstorms...ahhh, the memories.

"Blake, Let me tell you about my high school French Courses"

Tonight, as Blake was getting ready for bed, I told him to go grab a book. (quick side note, this "story time" was already doomed since I was watching the Duke/UNC game in the background...but that's neither here nor there). Blake scampered off and returned with Disney's Tarzan. He climbed up on my lap and, together, we turned to the first page. He doesn't usually wait for the actual story, preferring instead to point and yell out the objects he finds in the pictures. "Monkey, BIG Monkey, Baby!" Then I look at the words and suddenly, I appreciate that he didn't wait for me to read the story. The whole story was completely in French!? Not totally understanding where my sister picked up a french version of a Disney classic turned children's book, I decided to turn the pages and get through the pictures as fast as possible so we could choose another book in a language I was fluent in....namely, English. So I turned the page and he continued to identify the pictures: "BIG Monkey! BIG Monkey! little Monkey! Baby! Hey, where's the Baby's pants daddy?", we turn the page again, and after he identifies Jane, her dad, the bad guy and Tarzan, he asks me to read the pages. "Read Daddy, Read!" he says, as he points to the words. "Read the letters Daddy!" Now, the next part of the story is kind of hard to explain, but anyone with young kids can probably relate. You see, when it's just you and your kid alone in the house, sometimes you try to carry on an adult conversation, even though you know everything is going over their head. Keep that in mind when you read the next part. "Read the story Daddy!" "Blake, the story is in French." "Read it Daddy, Read Tarzan". "Blake, I haven't read French for 10 years, I'm not sure it would sound very good. You see, I had some, what you would call, authoritative altercations with my two French Teachers. One was upset that I asked a fluent french speaker to help me conjugate a few irregular verbs, and the other...well, the other didn't have the best sense of humor when it came to lighters in the shape of a small firearm." it was at about this point in my explanation of why I can't read Blake this story, that he seemed to lose interest in the book entirely and ran off to get another book. at which point, I must admit I was a little offended. I don't feel he really understands that, although I would love to read him the story of Tarzan in francais, I unfortunately am not able to do it. 70% because I was a complete screw off in class and 30% because my two teachers were certifiably insane! I even drew Blake a pie chart to demonstrate this, but he just took it and colored all over the statistics.
Some day I'm sure we'll have a deep, philosophically meaningful conversation about the joys of speaking multiple languages. But until then...we'll stick to children's books in English.

Man up Blake!

When I picked Blake up yesterday morning, I noticed something in his hair. When I asked him what it was, Dalisa said "Hair Gel" and then Blake said, "Ya, it's Cute!"...While I couldn't disagree that my kid is hugely adorable, I think he's spending way too much time around girls and not enough time around Desert Storm Veterans. He's also gotten in the habit of crying about every little thing that hurts him...Some may argue, "well Ben, he is only 2 1/2 years old, that's what they do", but I seem to remember having a full time job by the time I was 3, so he's got 6 months to toughen up. Lack of toughness notwithstanding, He still is a freaking cute kid. He gets into a LOT of trouble and pushes his boundaries as far as he can, but at the end of the day, he cuddles up to me, and all the grief he put me through that day seems to drift away. His time outs have been coming more frequently lately, and being that he hangs out with older kids at the babysitter, he has picked up some new words that aren't exactly pleasant to hear. However, every time I discipline him, I visualize him turning to me, and saying "Daddy, now that you have reproved me with sharpness, don't you think now would be a good time to show an increase of love?" And then I just think, 'wow, for someone who can't use the potty yet, he has an incredible understanding of the Doctrine and Covenants!"
Anyway, we've got a long way to go before he listens to every word I say, but I'm sure we'll get there....after all, I was a perfect kid right, so why wouldn't I expect the same from him?? ;)

Tourism at its best!

With the BCS National Championship now over, you would think life around the Valley of the Sun would die down a bit. But alas, the 70 degree weather this time of year continues to bring visitors from far and wide. And while we continue to be busy at the Inn, our celebrity sightings have dropped significantly- which I'm ok with actually. It's always fun to talk with people that you recognize from TV or various websites. But I always get a little nervous they are going to write something less than perfect about our resort. I scoured espn.com the few days after Auburn beat Oregon (still think Oregon would have been smarter to let Auburn score a TD when there was still 1:59 on the clock, but that's another story) to make sure none of the analysts staying with us had anything negative to say about their accommodations. Thankfully, no such publications have been found thus far...rest can come easily now...until the next star-studded event at least.
I still think a future project could include making an "Office" type spin off of the Hotel Lifestyle. We have such a collection of great characters here at my resort. And when I have a weekend of celebrity check ins, I sometimes wish I could act like Michael Scott while checking them in-without fear that my actions would result in termination. For instance, a few former stars from both the Collegiate and NFL level checked in, and I had the brief notion to hand them their room keys and then spear them to the ground- random thought of violence aside, I think it would have been hilarious! We also had a few former coaches check in, and I would have loved to pass them a play written on a cocktail napkin (with the title "The Annexation of Puerto Rico") and ask them to give it to a current coach to implement into their playbook.
While I lack the stones to actually say any of these things, in the event I win Publishers Clearing-House, I already have an exit strategy in mind for my last day-similar to the Airline attendant who went crazy on the passenger and then pulled the emergency exit lever and dove down the slide onto the tarmac. It's going to be epic. You should all be crossing your fingers for that PCH fortune to come to me, just so you can then read about how it goes down!

Stay Tuned!

The Exercise Adventure

Wow. So to preface this story, I need to take you all on a little journey into my past. Pretend that I am the ghost of Christmas past, and instead of coming to haunt you, I'm actually just taking myself back in time-(only I'm also bringing a webcam and you just happen to be watching from your living rooms). Growing up, I was always fairly tall, but my metabolism was always running at such a freakish rate, that I never really "filled into my body" until my mission (at which time, my body decided to make up for lost time and poor on the weight, but that's another story). I enjoyed an active lifestyle as a kid. I didn't have a "gaming system" so most of my time was spent walking to and from school, playing sports, roller blading, roller blading to play sports, etcetera etcetera etcetera. In High School, I was in really good shape, with Soccer, running from bullies, getting cut from the basketball team, those sorts of things. I thought I had a six pack, but then realized in was more of a 4 pack with an exposed Rib Cage on top. Prior to entering the mission field I spent my freshman year of college staying in shape by walking to and from campus (when I had occasion to get to class that is) and honing my bball skills in the Richards Building. The Metabolism was still going strong entering my 19th year on this earth. Regardless, I was still a lanky 165 lb-6 footer. After my mission I returned to my "active lifestyle" after a rec center basketball injury brought on a hellish 6 weeks of crutches, gangrene, and physical therapy. The only difference is that I was now a 205 lb-6 foot dough boy. Well, thanks to a reunion with my friends and the Richards Building, as well as a return diet of Ramen Noodles, Crystal Light and Betos, I began to lose the mission weight and the part in my hair (also a different story). In the five years since returning home, I have remained as active as possible, but something has changed. My body doesn't seem to withstand 3, 4, and 5 hours of sport at one time as it did in the past. My body doesn't react well when I go out and run without stretching as it did in the past. And my four pack with ribs, has been replaced with a mini-keg and stretch marks (ok, that's a slight exaggeration, but not by much). Ahh, the ghost of Christmas past is a cruel cruel spirit.

Anyway, fast forward to tonight...well, lets start at last night anyway. Last night, I drove home from work, helped my sister put her tree up, washed the sap off of my body, and put on my running clothes. Then I turned my tv on to confirm I was DVR-ing Rules of Engagement and Sing Off. bad idea. Once I saw Sing Off had started, I was drawn in. I sat down for the first song, telling myself I would go running after the opening number....2 hours later, Groove For Thought was singing their Swan Song, and I was replacing my running clothes with pajamas. "well, I'll just try again tomorrow"
Today I was determined to run. I got home from work, went to pga tour superstore to check out some demo clubs, and returned home to "get fit". The following entry is of my exercise adventure...

I had previously mapped out a 2 mile course around my neighborhood. I thought two miles was a tad ambitious given my lack of activity in the last month (I pulled my groin in a Softball Tournament early November, and hadn't tested it since). Me running two miles could be likened to Jaba the Hut Clean & Pressing Han Solo 3 sets, 10 reps each. But I am an ambitious guy, so I thought I'd give it a try.

It actually started ok. I jogged the whole first mile. once I made the turn, I walked for half a mile, then decided to sprint the last 1/2 mile. after about 20 yards of sprinting, I started to dry heave in someones front yard-held it in-recomposed myself, and decided Sprinting was a little to serious at this juncture in my re-kindled relationship with Exercise. So I took the last stretch at what can only be described as a wounded gallop. The last 100 yards weren't pretty, but I finished. From the looks of my body language, you would think that I was a) finishing the last 1/4 mile of a Marathon or b) Humping down the Ho Chi Minh Trail with a fallen comrade over my shoulder and Charlie descending on me something fierce. Either way, it wasn't graceful. After a short blackout on my front lawn, I regained consciousness and thought back on the last 2 miles of my life. And, to be honest, I learned a few things on my run. You see, at the first half mile point there is a busy intersection, with a large public park on one side, and residences on the other. As I approached the intersection, there were a long line of cars cruising by, with some turning to enter the park. People were all around, some playing volley ball, some having Softball Practice, and a few kids Skateboarding in the parking lot. As I waited to cross the street, I did what I had seen thousands of other joggers do at similar intersections across the west. I kept jogging in place, and while placing my index and middle fingers against my throat, I looked at my left wrist and took my pulse. The only problem is I didn't have a watch on. I was missing one of the key elements to taking a pulse, and yet I was still jogging in place, going through the motions. Upon my realization that I was without a time piece, I slowly turned my head behind me to see if any of the Volleyball participants had noticed my miscue. Thankfully none of them had, so I waited for one more car to pass, and crossed the street. As I turned up the street, directly in front of me I noticed a car parked facing the direction I had just come from. Then, to my horror, I noticed that two people were sitting in the car talking. from the looks on their faces as I walked by (I was no longer jogging at this point), they clearly had seen me on the opposite corner from their car, and were no doubtingly laughing at my attempt to take my pulse without a watch, and my head turn to see if anyone had noticed. I'm glad I could make their night. But I was to preoccupied to dwell on a mildly embarrassing moment. so I continued on my way, but not without making a new years resolution to buy a watch. The next thing I learned was that Christmas is a good time to jog in Arizona. 1- it was 70 degrees outside, so the weather was perfect for running. 2-it's Christmas time, so all the houses are lit up, and jogging gives me a chance to not only become healthier, but also enjoy the lights around the neighborhood. Also, being that it's Christmas time, people are naturally in better moods, and thus aren't as mad when you throw up in their "Desert North Pole" scene. Thirdly, I learned that jogging with music is so much nicer than without it. My ipod broke a while ago, and so I ran tonight without any music to 1-pump me up and 2-help my keep pace. another adverse affect of not listening to music, is that I have to rely on Songs that are in my head. And, for some reason, no matter how many awesome Christmas Songs I hear during the day, the one that always pops into my mind when nothing else is on is "Baby it's Cold Outside." Which isn't a horrible song, but definitely not my favorite (especially after a friend gave me a rather peculiar hidden meaning about the song). So, getting some jogging music together is definitely high on my priorities list right now. My jog finished with a classical encounter with 2 members of our fine "elderly community" here in Gilbert. I was a block from home, and I could feel my body begin to question my decision to go for two miles without any warm up. my rhythmic jog had turned into something similar to the scene from Jurassic Park one, when the little boy is running from the Raptors, and his leg is busted up, so He's limping along at a brisk pace, but his posture is still really good (it's a classic visual, I recommend re-watching the movie when you have a chance, John Williams did an amazing job with the musical score as usual). Anyway, I approach the last intersection and a car comes right up to the curb next to me and stops. I figured they were either someone I knew (which isn't really anybody but my family, so I ruled that out quickly), or someone that wanted to do a wellness check on me, because they probably felt I had been stabbed by the belabored body language I was showing just to keep my body moving in a forward direction. So I stop and turn to let them know that I'm actually not suffering from any immediate medical crisis and they can go about their day, when the guest waves at me. I then assume they are wanting to turn right at the intersection and they are waving me to go ahead and cross. I then wave back to them to go ahead and turn (at this point I had stopped running completely, and I figured that walking was the only way I was going to make it home, so what's the rush?). The older gentleman in the driver's seat then leaned across his wife and waved again. So I took a step toward the car thinking that he must be waving for me to come over (probably to give directions or give jogging tips or something). He then waves more emphatically, and now I'm confused- does this guy want me to cross? Does he want directions? Does he want my autograph? What?? So I step a little closer to the car to see if I can help in some way, and then realize that he was waving neither for me to come over nor to cross the street. He was just waving me out of the way. Apparently I was standing in his line of site from his car to the street sign he was looking at. And me walking toward him, just made the obstruction larger and the guy more frustrated. So he just stepped on the gas and turned the corner in disgust, leaving me standing there contemplating the events of the previous 2 minutes. I shrugged to myself and walked into the house. Immediately upon entrance to the house, I went to the fridge to hydrate. I opened the fridge to look for a gallon of water, but instead found egg nog (not the best for a post cardio workout), milk, apple juice and a bottle of wine with a cork screw poking out of it...don't worry it's not what you think! My sister is using it for a sweet Fish Recipe. Funny story about the wine though. So I borrowed a cork screw from the hotel, but instead of borrowing one of our nice ones, I picked up one of our small, plain cork screws. So the problem is with the standard cork screw, is that it doesn't have the lever that will raise the cork up out of the bottle. Instead it works purely on your own strength to get the cork out. I happened to have a rather embarrassing moment a couple years ago, opening a bottle of wine for a guest in their room, and between that, and the fact that I don't use cork screws very often, I am having the darnedest time opening this bottle of wine. I have the cork screw in the cork, but I can not get it to budge. the other day, I was trying to open it so we could have some fish, but not wanting to break the cork into pieces, and also not wanting to spill all over myself, I was relegated to leaving the cork screw in the bottle, and heading into work. We haven't had time to do the fish yet, which is good, because I currently have no idea how I'm going to open the bottle...