When I was in high school, I often had too much time on my hands. Worse, I had a camera to document it! The below movies were the result of a boring Saturday when 2 friends of I were sitting around with nothing to do. Out of the blue one of us said: "Let's make a movie!" So we grabbed a video camera and pretty much started shooting. Fortunately, we had a lot of good friends who joined in when we asked (and did a pretty good job improving everything then and there). They may regret it now.

So, even though our reputations may never recover, I offer you the complete Clueless Detectives, a movie that stands as a a shining example of why you should never give a video camera to 3 high school boys with nothing better to do on a windy day.

Enjoy!

 

 

Mina, our youngest, loves to dance. Whenever she hears music she starts to shake her diapered booty. Here she is dancing at a corn maze we visited earlier this year. Isn't she cute!

 

Windstorm, 2011

On Monday, Jenna and I went to the Hale Centre Theatre of Orem to see The Drowsy Chaperone. We first saw that play a few years ago during the first national tour (Jonathan Crombiee, the actor who played Gilbert in the Anne of Green Gables movies played the lead role). We loved it and laughed throughout the whole thing, so we were excited to see it again.

The play is about a man, known simply as "The Man in the Chair." He is feeling blue and pondering questions of life and musical theater. To help cheer himself up, he puts on a record ("yes, record") of one of his favorite plays from the 1920s—The Drowsy Chaperone. As he listens, the play comes to life in his apartment, telling an absurdly predictable story about a young woman giving up a life of glamour to tie the knot with a man she barely knows.

The man in the chair narrates and even interacts with the characters as the play builds to its wacky crescendo. Jokes abound, ranging from the outrageous Adolfo, the self-proclaimed "King of Romance," who has the funniest scenes, trying to seduce the bride to the terrible puns by two jovial gangsters disguised as pastry chefs.

Throughout, the play pokes fun at the foibles of theater, especially musicals. It riffs on old-time Broadway prejudice, spit-take sequences, and more and apes dozens of other plays, including a hilarious take on The King and I. It even has well-placed digs at modern Broadway, intermissions, Elton John, and Disney. The result is one of the funniest plays ever staged. But the interesting thing is that, in the middle of a rip-roaringly hilarious time, there is a very powerful--and very serious--message.

The message comes in the middle of the play when the bride is feeling apprehensive about getting married and asks advice from her chaperone, a woman who is perpetually drunk and drowsy (hence the name). In response, the chaperone sings an entirely inappropriate anthem (yes, "anthem") called "As We Stumble Along."

As we stumble along
On life's funny journey,
As we stumble along
Into the blue,
We look here and we look there,
Seeking answers anywhere,
Never sure of where to turn or what to do.

Still we bumble our way
Through life's crazy labyrinth.
Barely knowing left from right
Nor right from wrong,
And the best that we can do
Is hope a blue bird
Will sing his song
As we stumble along.

Later, the man in the chair protests a song that declares that "love is always lovely in the end."

"That's not true!" he says. "Love isn't always lovely in the end. Sometimes there are lawyers."

The audience slowly begins to realize that the man, like so many of us, is frustrated with the difficulties of the world and he uses musicals as a way to escape.

As the play progresses, he gets more and more into it and ignores all disruptions to focus solely on the joy it brings him. He obsesses about a moment where a glitch in the record prevents him from hearing the most important advice the chaperone gives to the bride, which is either "leave while you can" or "live while you can." He points out that is the same choice we have through much of life—leave or live.

Just as the play comes to a triumphant, happy climax, real life intrudes, cutting off the last note in an amusing and frustrating way. The man doesn't know what to do. He thinks about starting over but says, "no, we can't do that, can we?"

He collapses into his chair in despair. There, he returns to the message that makes the play transcend its goofiness. "I know it's not a perfect show," he tells the audience (he's right, it is hilariously bad, but that is on purpose). "But it does what a musical is supposed to do. It takes you to another world. And it gives you a little tune to carry with you in your head for when you're feeling blue."

Softly, he begins to hum and then sing "As We Stumble Along." he is soon joined by the rest of the cast and as the song reaches the end, he opens the door and, squaring his shoulders back, he walks off into the world.

I like that message. It touches on why it is so important to find good, uplifting things in life. There are so many things in life to bring us down, that make us blue. As the economic crisis gets worse and partisan battles increase to the point that we fear blood will be spilled, it is hard to see the good. But good plays, books, music, TV shows, movies and more can help lift us up and make it possible to confront the world with defiance and even joy. It is what stories do--it is why they are important!

Arthur Miller once wrote: "Great drama is great questions or it is nothing but technique. I could not imagine a theater worth my time that didn't want to change the world." I agree. Theater—for that matter, any kind of diversion—should have some kind of redeeming value, or it isn't worth our time and effort. It should try to change the world in some way. Even if it is doing nothing more than lift spirits for a few hours.

That doesn't mean that good theater has to always be fun and light. In fact, deep and darker stories can be just as powerful. One of my favorite movies of all time is Glory, about the first all-black regiment in the Civil War. It isn't a funny film, and often it is uncomfortable to watch. The ending is heart-wrenching and sad, but the movie is amazing because I always walk away from it grateful for those that gave their lives to give me the opportunities I have—those that were willing to give everything to preserve this nation. I walk away a little better and a little stronger and a little more willing to face trials and overcome because it is right.

Another of my favorite movies is The Dark Knight. It is a difficult movie to watch, and it makes you wonder if any good still exists in Gotham and, by extension, the rest of the world. And then comes the end, where the people of Gotham and even the "bad men" mobsters, refuse to blow each other up, even at the cost of their own lives. And you walk away with a newfound hope for humanity, that no matter how dark and depressing things get, we can overcome.

In my mind, that is what great theater--what great popular culture--should do: It should give us a bit of light we can use to hold back the darkness of the world. And hopefully it will give us a little tune to carry with us for when we're feeling blue.

Then we stumble away
Through dawn's blinding sunbeams.
Barely knowing right from left
Nor left from wrong.

But as long as we can hear that little blue bird
There'll be a song
As we stumble along.

Every once in a while, I like to experiment for meals. Today, I tried my hand at making an instant Beef Ragu, a kind of tomato and beef stew served over mashed potatoes. The results were pretty good—the kids liked it, anyway. Here is the recipe for anyone who wants to try it. Ingredients

• 3 cans roast beef (can also make your own roast and use about 3 cups worth, diced). Use the broth from 2 cans but drain the third
• 1 can diced tomatoes
• 1 small can tomato paste
• 1 can sliced carrots
• 1 can green beans
• 1 medium onion, sliced
• 1 green pepper, sliced
• 3 large garlic cloves, crushed
• Instant mashed potato mix

Instructions

1. Mix beef, broth, garlic, onion, and green pepper in a pot (I used a wok, but any pot will work).
2. Bring mixture to a boil, stirring occasionally.
3. Add carrots, green beans, tomatoes, and tomato paste. Stir until well mixed.
4. Sing "Be Our Guest" from Disney's Beauty and the Beast. Put special emphasis on the part about Beef Ragu.
5. Let mixture cook on medium heat, stirring occasionally while you prepare mashed potatoes according to package instructions.
6. When the potatoes are finished, serve the beef mixture over them.

Enjoy!

About a year ago, I blogged about my eyes (link to it here), where I talked about the grieving process I was going through for my particular eye condition. In that post I talked about the eventual likelihood that someday I will need a corneal transplant—that a cornea from a donor would have to be grafted in my eye. Well, that day came sooner than I expected. In fact, it is coming on March 15--the Ides of March. About a month ago, I went to the optometrist to have my eyes checked. He looked at my left eye (which they can't even get a reading on anymore) and said: "Wow! I've never seen... that's pretty bad, like, textbook bad." He referred me to a corneal specialist at the Eye Institute (my previous optometrist referred me to the same person). On Friday, Jenna and I hauled Hayden and Mina to the specialist who told me that all other options have been exhausted. If I want better vision, I need a transplant in my left eye. The thing is that I can still see—mostly. There is a lot of ghosting and lights have very dramatic halos, and I often get headaches that I think are caused by my eyes straining, but I can still see. I'm writing this and can read the words, even though they are pretty small. But what worries me is driving at night, which is getting more and more difficult because the headlights and taillights flare so much that it is hard to see the road, especially when it is wet and has more reflections that flare as well. Also, looking at computer screens is getting harder, which obviously concerns me because it is a big part of my job. As when I wrote my first blog post about this topic, I feel a bit conflicted. It will be great to see better, but the whole thing scares me, and it is still very odd to think of having a part of someone else grafted into my body—or the idea that someone has to die for my eyesight to improve. Last night I talked with my brother, who is an optometrist, about it. We discussed several of the potential complications and things to look out for. We also talked about how this will change my life in the future. My brother said, "Remember that this isn't the end. It is a change—the beginning of a whole new adventure." And maybe that is the best way to think about it: an adventure. But that doesn't make it any less scary.

Recently I had a conversation with a friend that got me to thinking. The conversation focused on technological advances in general and Facebook in particular. This friend, who I will not name, is adamantly opposed to Facebook, which is his absolute right. But it was his reason for being opposed that I felt was a bit--maybe not odd, because I've heard the same argument from other people before--but perhaps a bit short-sighted or even false. His argument for not using Facebook was simple: People lived just fine before Facebook was invented, so I can, too. And the truth is that he is absolutely correct. People survived just fine without Facebook and his refusal to jointhe site will, in no way, impede his ability to survive or even to enjoy life. That wasn't my problem. My problem was that he is looking at the whole thing all wrong. First of all, Facebook wasn't created as a necessity of life. It was created as a way to help people keep in touch with others and even connect with those with whom they have lost touch. And it does both of those things very well. I grew up in a very small town in northeastern Arizona. After graduation, my high school class (94 students) scattered across the United States and even around the globe. I myself spent 2 years in southern Chile, several moved to Phoenix, and others moved all over the place. I quickly lost touch with all but a very few of my friends. This was not because I didn't want to communicate with them, it was just that communication took a lot of time. Could I live without knowing where they were or what they were up to? Sure. And I did. For several years after I returned from Chile, my life went on just fine. I kept in contact with the few friends I could still find and heard rumors about other ones through the town gossip line (I mentioned that the town was small, right?). But I still wondered how some of them were doing and wished that there was a way to contact them. A few years before the Facebook revolution, I attended a reuinion, where I met some of my old friends. It was so great to see them, but the short hours afforded at the reunion weren't enough to really re-connect. I got a few email addresses, but that was it. Then came Facebook and viola! Suddenly many of my high school friends, along with several of my Chilean friends and many others friends that I've made over the years, can be found in a single, easy-to-use space. I can chat with them, find out what is going on in their lives, and even see pictures. On top of that, it reminds me when i need to send out birthday cards or other important events. And friends can invite me to reunions and get togethers, which are always fun. Are there problems? Yes. I hate the Facebook games and couldn't care less if my friend John wants my help in on his virtual farm, I'm never going to do it. I sometimes worry about security and set my security to a very high level to protect myself as much as possible. Sometimes I get invites from people I don't know or really don't want to reconnect with. And some of my friends posts are ... well, let's just say that they are less interesting than others. But those are minor inconveniences that I gladly put up with for the value that I feel I get from Facebook. But the good and bad of Facebook are actually not the point of this post. They can be argued left and right forever and the argument will always come down to personal opinion, so it's kind of pointless. What I want to point out is that, regardless of how much I enjoy Facebook, I have never considered it necessary for a happy life. Does reconnecting with my friends make me happy. Absolutely. Could I be happy without them? Absolutely, though I would (and did) miss some of the friends that I now get to hear from on a regular basis. And that's my first problem with what my friend said: Surviving and being happy before or after Facebook aren't really the point. Facebook is just a way--an optional way--to enhance life, and that is it. So my first objection is a simple technicality--the statement that people lived just fine before Facebook is irrelevant as it was never meant to be more than an enhancement to life. The real question is whether people feel that their lives have been enhanced by Facebook. That goes back to personal preference and, to a large degree, experience and I'm fine with that. But as I thought about my friend's statement, another thought struck me: can't you say that exact same thing about pretty much ANY technology? TV? check. Cars? check. Microwaves? check. Modern farming equipment? sure, that, too. See, that is the problem that has troubled me since my discussion with my friend. Personally, I don't honestly care one way or the other whether he uses Facebook or not, but it reflects an attitude I think is problematic: the "reject all change because the past was just fine" attitude. As someone who works in technology, I see this all the time. A short time ago a user at work actually accused me of not doing my job because my team changed things too much. It didn't matter to him that over 95% of our user base not only approves of the changes but has commented many times on how much more productive those same changes make their jobs. "Things were working just fine before," this particular employee said, so to him the changes were a bad thing because why would you change something that is working? A couple of nights ago Jenna and I discussed this same idea regarding pregnancy and birth. In her most recent class, she is learning about child development and the class got into a debate over how much the medical industry should be involved in childbirth. One of the students all but called all mothers who do not have natural births in their own home irresponsible (she also claimed that when she had children, she was sure she would find a comfortable position to pop them out and that there was NEVER a good reason to induce labor). That bothered Jenna quite a bit and we discussed it late into the night. As humans I think we have a tendency to romanticize the past while ignoring the hard facts of that time. Today it seems to be in fashion to idolize the 1950s—especially the 1950s portrayed in I Love Lucy and Leave it to Beaver, where the husband and wife slept in separate beds and they couldn't show a toilet on national television (dead serious, check out this little factoid on Snopes.com). But we forget that there were serious problems in the '50s. Racism and abuse were rampant, women had few rights and less respect, much of the world economy was still reeling from World War II, communism had half the world terrified of the other half and neighbors terrified of neighbors, smoking was encouraged by doctors and The Flintstones, and so on. Even worse, a lot of people seem to be getting nostalgic for the days of the Founding Fathers, when disease killed off most people before they reached what we now consider middle age, people were often hung for minor offenses, and slaves were a regular part of life for a lot of Americans. Please don't think I'm suggesting that things like Facebook or other technologies have anything to do with solving those kinds of problems. They don't. But my point is that it is foolish to think of the past as having many advantages over modern day life. Are there problems today? Yes. Are they worse than the past? Maybe, maybe not. A lot of the time I lean towards "not." The Dark Ages, for example, just seem to be a bummer all around except for a handful of people who happened to be born into the extremely inbred breed of royalty—and then they were lucky only if they were male. So whether you Facebook or not really isn't a big deal to me. True, you will probably hear more from me if you do Facebook, but I can appreciate your decision not to. But please don't use the excuse that the world got along just fine without it. Truth is, life on this planet got along pretty well without all of us as well. But I don't think we want to return to those days, do we?

I don't like Stephen King. I have known this for a while but it was brought back to the forefront last week when I attempted (and failed) to read Under the Dome, King's latest best seller. To be clear, I have nothing against him personally and I actually think he is a very talented writer--I often quote his essays on writing in my classes. And I don't begrudge anyone who enjoys reading his books. No, I just don't care for his stories themselves ... or, perhaps more accurately, I don't care for his worldview. No matter your opinion of King's stories, it is hard to argue that he has a pretty dismal worldview. If King is to be trusted:

• Pretty much everyone is twisted and psychotic in one way or another--even the good guys.
• People in desperate situations are more likely to turn on each other than try to resolve the situation.
• Most people are more infatuated with power than doing good--especially people who are in positions to do good.
• People who aren't infatuated with power are not only rare, they are also beat down and isolated by those who are.
• Religious people are fanatics and extremists who, deep down, believe in blood sacrifice first and doing good last.
• The government is both inept and always knee-deep in dark, horrifying conspiracies.
• Psychos are common.
• Maine is mostly populated with said psychos.
• Good guys are almost always former covert ops or ex-military.
• Anyone named "Randall" is big trouble.

All in all, King's world is a pretty depressing place. Take Under the Dome, King's most recent novel. It is about a town that mysteriously becomes trapped in some kind of transparent energy field. Almost immediately, the psychos in the town gain power and people start to turn on each other. Things just go from bad to worse and then keep getting worse. It was so depressing I only made it about a third of the way (I have never made it past the half-way mark of any King book, despite my many attempts). And that is pretty much how I feel about King's stories. The thing is, I do enjoy horror stories. In the past few years, I have become a pretty big Dean Koontz fan and I have read several of his books. But, despite using similar material in their stories and having the same first initial in their last name (a coincidence I always found a bit amusing), there is a world of difference between Koontz and King novels. For one thing, while psychos do exist in almost every Koontz book, they are the exception, not the rule. Most people in Koontz' stories are good, decent folks who are just trying to do what is right. And while Koontz' good guys share some similarities with King's (many of them also seem to have some sort of military background and they often harbor dark secrets in their past), they are people who you can trust and rally behind. And, perhaps most important, the good guys overcome incredible odds to become the good guys that they are. For example, I recently finished reading the first three of Koontz' Odd Thomas series. The books, which I highly recommend, are about Odd Thomas, a young man who can see (but not talk to) ghosts. The ghosts come to him seeking help to resolve whatever wrong is keeping them on the terrestrial plane. Odd (who really is named "Odd") helps them. There isn't anything in it for Odd. In fact, there are many reasons why he shouldn't help people, the main ones being that it often gets him in trouble and brings pain (or death) to those he loves. But he does it anyway, just because it is right. Like most of Koontz' characters, Odd comes from a dark past. His mother is fairly psychotic and his father is a jerk beyond words. Odd had a very unhappy childhood and ran away at a young age to fend for himself. Add to that the dark, sinister things the ghosts show him, and Odd could--and probably should--be a maladjusted freak who sees nothing but darkness and evil. But he isn't. Instead, Odd sees the world as one filled with light and beauty. Even at his darkest he finds moments of happiness and tranquility.  And rather than shun humanity, he embraces it and finds nothing but good (minus the occasional psycho who crosses his path). The people that surround him are an eclectic bunch with dark histories of their own, but they have almost universally overcome those pasts to become truly good people: Little Ozzie has overcome weight issues and the judgement of the world to become a famous novelist. Stormy, Odd's one true love, has overcome abuse to become a happy, well-adjusted person. Brother Knuckles overcame his life as a mob hitman to become a monk. And on and on. And that is one of the things I like the most about Koontz' stories: the characters overcome the world, no matter how bad and horrifying. In King's world, things just seem to remain dark and horrifying, even after the good guys have "won." I think the thing that attracts me to Koontz' stories over King's is that Koontz' vision of the world is much closer to my own. I believe that most people, regardless of their religious or political ideology, are good, decent people who are just trying to do what they think is right. I believe that there are good guys out there who do what is right just because it is right, no matter the cost to them. And while I do believe that psychos and monsters do exist, I believe that they are the exception. And, most important, I believe that no matter the darkness people have experienced in their lives, they can always overcome it. I didn't always believe this. As a kid I was very paranoid about the world--especially the world outside of St. Johns. I saw it as a terrible and terrifying place filled with evil just waiting to devour the few righteous ones. I blame this on two things: Hollywood and the isolation of St. Johns. Because the town is far removed from the "real world," my opinions of what that world was like largely came from movies and television. Is it any wonder that I thought everything beyond St. Johns' borders was nearing the Ninth Circle of Hell? But all of that changed when I served a two-week religious mission to Phoenix the summer before my senior year of high school. On the mission, I was required to meet and talk with several people--all of them strangers. Before leaving, I was terrified. I secretly worried that one of them would kill or, at the very least, hurt me. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that not one of those strangers was a psycho and that, almost without exception, they were good, decent people just trying to do what they felt was right Later, my father asked me what I learned from the mission. After a brief moment of reflection, I told him simply: "That most people are good, honest people." I believe that to this day. So, to return to my original point, I don't like Stephen King. I believe in humanity more than that and, no matter how bad things are, I am optimistic for the future of mankind. In the words of William Faulkner:

I decline to accept the end of man. ... I believe that man will not merely endure: he will prevail. He is immortal, not because he alone among creatures has an inexhaustible voice, but because he has a soul, a spirit capable of compassion and sacrifice and endurance.

So I'll avoid Stephen King from now on because I don't believe in his world. His world is filled with darkness. And while the world I believe in may often be dark and gloomy, there is always color and light and joy. And rather than be filled with egotistical maniacs and psychos, it is filled with good, decent people who overcome incredible odds to do what is right, for no other reason than that it is right. Naive? Perhaps. But which world would you rather live in?

Most people who know me know that I served a religious mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints shortly after I turned 19. For the better part of 2 years, I lived with and served the people of southern Chile. My mission was the greatest experience of my pre-Jenna life. It was amazing to live with and serve those wonderful people and I often miss it. Unfortunately, I don't miss their food much. Most of it was bland and the rest of it was ... well, let's just say it wasn't my favorite. Those who saw me not long after I returned home thought I had caught a parasite or something because I'd lost so much weight (I have since gained it back with interest--maybe I should go back to Chile). There were a few exceptions to my not liking the food. For example, I love completos (Chilean hot dogs) and empanadas. And, of course, there was all the food I ate while living in the house with the professional chef. The other day, I prepared my family one of the dishes I had in that home: Stuffed Acorn Squash. I've made it before (all from memory--mostly of how it tasted rather than how it was cooked), but this time it was better than ever before. So, before I forget what I did, here is the recipe:

Stuffed Acorn Squash

Makes 8 servings (1/2 squash = 1 serving)

Ingredients*

• 4 large acorn squash
• 4 cups cooked rice
• 1 pound hamburger
• 1 can sliced mushrooms (or 1/2 package fresh sliced mushrooms if you prefer)
• 1/2 medium onion (diced)
• 1 large can cream of mushroom soup (or 2 small ones)
• 1/4 cup shredded cheese (we used cheddar, but you could probably use anything. My guess is that Monterey Jack would be awesome)
• 1 tbsp Worcestershire Sauce
• 1 tbsp Montreal Steak Seasoning (this stuff is a must in any kitchen)

* All measurements are estimates. I really don't measure things when I cook.

Instructions

1. Preheat the over to 400°.
2. Cut the squash in half, lengthwise (tip to stem).
3. Remove the seeds and the stringy stuff from the squash.
4. Put the squash on a large bar pan with the yellow side up. Add about 1/4 of an inch of water to the bottom of the pan (this will help make the squash nice and tender).
5. Put the squash in the oven and cook for 30 minutes.
6. While the squash is cooking, add the hamburger, diced onion, mushrooms, Montreal Steak Seasoning, and Worcestershire sauce to a pan and mix over high heat until hamburger is browned.
7. Add the rice and cream of mushroom soup to the hamburger mixture.
8. Cook the hamburger-rice mixture on medium-low for several minutes, stirring occasionally, until it is thoroughly warmed through.
9. Let the hamburger-rice mixture warm until the squash is cooked.
10. Remove the squash from the oven.
11. Fill each squash with some of the hamburger-rice mixture (it should create a small dome over the top of the squash).
12. Sprinkle the top of each squash with about a tbsp of cheese.
13. Return the squash to the oven (make sure that there is still water in the pan) for 30 minutes.
14. Serve and enjoy.

We served it with a Chilean salad made from 1/4 cabbage (shredded), a little vegetable oil (about 1 tbsp), a lot of lemon juice (about 3 tbsps--add to flavor), and a little salt. It was very good. Believe it or not, my kids, who aren't very fond of squash, loved the meal and most had seconds. So it looks like we have a hit on our hands. It makes a great Fall dinner. Enjoy!