Tuesday, May 26, 2009

The Pink Streaker


So here is something funny…

I went over to my local Target to pick up a power tool, which I am oft to do on a Saturday afternoon. As I was in the power tool aisle testing various power drills and seeing how manly I looked with them in my hand, something very bizarre happened that changed me in a deep and profound way.

Just like out a horror movie I caught something out of the corner of my eye. A strange streak “whooshed” by. It was too fast to be human so my heart began to race.

So I grabbed a double barreled power drill and a nail gun, for good measure, and headed toward the end of the aisle to investigate.
As I peaked my head around the corner, behind me, at the other end of the aisle the same mysterious something “whooshed” past again.

Well, if you thought I was perplexed before, now I was beside myself. What was this thing with unnatural speed and strange pink markings?

Suddenly and without warning, from behind me, I heard the unmistakable sound of a chime. Not just any chime mind you, but the chime of a bicycle bell. A sound that would live in my memory for years to come.

I leapt out of the way just in time to see…a fifty year woman riding a children’s bicycle wearing her pink stretchy pants and teddy bear sweat shirt.

And I'm all like...what? So I immediately set out to make my presence known and get the poop on what was going on.

So I found out that this sweet sister was buying her daughter a bike. And because Target doesn’t allow you to take bikes outside for a test drive, she thought she would just test them out in the store by riding them up and down the aisles until she found the perfect bike for her granddaughter. Fantastic!

I have such great admiration for this good lady. I love people who buck the trends of our social norms, to make things more practical for themselves.
I could see myself sitting on the bikes, kicking the tires but I would never dare to ride it in the store.
But this lady saw no way around it, she just rode 'till she couldn't rode no mo'.

Boogie on Reggae Women

So the next time you see me speed skating around Target, arms flailing, knocking over can food displays and unsuspecting people, fear not friends, I am just testing out some new roller blades.

Thursday, May 21, 2009

Oh Hair. Why Must You Thin So?

Earlier this year I knew my hair loss was getting bad by some subtle comments that were made to me by the hair/make-up person in a play I was in.

I was the angel Gabriel and so every night she would have to give me what she lovingly called the “Angel Poof”. In reality the "Angel Poof" was a nice way of saying, "Let's rat Rob’s hair until he bleeds, and then, because Rob may not be in a enough pain already, lets put a whole can of hair spray on his raw head, so that his hair won't budge even if gall force winds suddenly burst into the theatre."

Seriously, it was painful, much like pouring lemon juice into a paper cut.

Sure I knew I was receding and thought I was handling it all very well. I knew my receding hair line was gradually progressing up my scalp, but I still thought I had some good growth up top.

Well, one night the “hair lady” subtlety said, “Oh boy there is not a lot to work with back here”.

She went so far as to say, “Next year you may have to wear a wig”.

A wig? Are you serious sister? Really? I hate to say this, but good sister you need to check yourself because it will be a cold day in…before this guy straps on a wig. Yeah.

So last night I went Great Clips to get a hair cut, which is usually a great experience. I love people touching my head for some reason. Well, to wrap up the experience the stylist asks me to check the back. So she holds up the mirror and I notice this huge bald spot on the top of my head.

OK, it all looks good...um...except for the huge bald spot on top of my head. Did you accidentally take out a huge chunk of my hair or what?”

She responded, “No sir, you are…um…you are just going bald.”

Ouch! That really hurt. I mean, you don’t usually see that back of your head so last night I realized that I have lost a ton of hair back there. Whoa, what a wake up call. The whole experience left me a little stunned.

Friends, after some initial shock and some positive self talk, I think I have come to grips with the inevitability that some day I will be completely bald. And I am OK with that friends. I am still a good person and have a lot to offer with other areas of my face and head (I have some awesome looking ears, and don’t even get me started on how cool my chin is).

So with a lot of soul searching and prayer, today has been a better day.
I have only cried three times and I have found baseball caps go with some many different outfits and looks.
You can dress it up or down.
Friends, crisis averted.
Fantastic!

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Sweet, Sweet, Horchata

So remember how it was so hot yesterday?

I was getting my car repaired at my friend’s shop, Larry H. Miller. As I was waiting for my car to be repaired, sweat was dripping down my back. And not only was I going to have to pay $900.00 to fix my oil holder (I think that’s the technical name for it) but the A/C was not up and running at Larry H. Miller Honda. So it was stinkin’ hot in Larry H’s waiting room.

There was about twenty of us packed in a room the size of a closet which made it very uncomfortable. The man next to me was holding his overweight dog, whose breathing was quite labored, and this dog kept licking my leg. Sure that cooled off a tiny section of my leg but, cool off my entire body, it did not. And let’s be honest, dog breath, not such a great smell to have on ones leg. To add insult to injury the only thing on the community TV was "Judge Alex".

And so there I sat, wet with my own sweat, thinking I had been there at least an hour but upon looking at the over sized clock with Honda Civics as hands I had only been there five minutes.

So finally, I got up to get a drink to calm my nerves and when I came back guess who was sitting in my chair? My calorie laden dog friend who was licking my leg before. I felt a little betrayed that he had used me in that way. Touch me in the morning and then turn and walk away why don’t cha.

So out of desperation I ran outside to sit in the shade and read my book. But as the hours passed I began to become very parched. And I thought I needed some liquid refreshment, stat.

So as I looked up and wiped the drops of sweat that stung my eye, a sign appeared, from what I believed heaven. BETOS.

BETOS is my favorite place to get Mexican food in the greater Salt Lake Area. I know as do others that every time you eat at BETOS you take you life into your hands as the cleanliness of both the servers and restaurant are a bit sketchy. Sometimes I get very sick eating there, sometimes I don’t. I know that BETOS is a gamble but if you play your cards right you can have a great meal. Hit it on a “salmonella night” and you could be in a word of hurt for a couple of days.

But friends, do you know what I crave more than anything on a hot day? The answer inevitably comes back, Horchata, Horchata, Horchata from BETOS.

I ran across the street bought me a large and sank under a shade tree to sup on the sweet nectar that is Horcata. Oh friends, what relief came into my body and soul as I finally felt sweet refreshment after almost dying of dehydration.

The whole experience has left me entirely speechless, and I have not stopped speaking of it since.

So as the days grow hotter give me a call we will go to BETOS and order us a couple of chicken chimichangas and a large horchata. We may have some serious diarrhea a couple hours later but our thirst will be quenched for a small moment.

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

What is that sound? Rising up from world?

I don't usually love to tell tales of the bathroom but here we go.

So I was in the bathroom doing...well...what we all do in there. To my side, a father was trying to help his son do "tinkles" in the toilet. He was not having a lot of success because the two year old would not hold still. And as we all know, holding still is really a huge part of the art of the “one-sies”, am I right?

So finally, we are all finished and met over to the sink, to do the washing of the hands.

When suddenly, a man burst through the door with a panicked expression on his face that comes only from having a “doosy of a two-sy” coming down the pike. He rushed into a stall and released a gaseous sound, the likes I have never heard before.

We all were astounded and impressed at the volume of this man’s passing of the gas. But what does one say at times like these? When you know it warrants something being said or a joke about, but you’re not sure how to coin just the right phrase?

Well, the two year old said it the best, when he said, “Holy Cow Dad! That was the loudest fart I have ever heard!

Except for our friend in the stall. (He seemed to have some other issues going on) We started laughing, the kind of laughter that men only share when bathroom humor is presented to us, with stifled giggles and unadulterated “gafaws”, pushing and shoving each other out the bathroom door. Ah, good times.

Leave it to a two year to say what we all were thinking.

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

I Still, I Still Believe...

So remember that time when I went to see Miss. Saigon last night? Wow!

For those of you who haven’t seen it, the curtain falls with one character dead and everyone else standing there, wondering how everything they wanted has suddenly slipped away with the suicide of a sweet Vietnamese girl.

I sat in my chair as the curtain fell and thought, surely there must be a third act where our dead Vietnamese friend revives miraculously, and then they all fly to America where it ends with a rousing tap number with fireworks and people being shot from cannons.

After I processed the whole show I have to say, I really liked the way it ended. Because sometimes in life things don’t work out the way you want them to, ya know. Sometimes your hopes are dashed, you lose your job, or you become a cripple.

And sometimes when you are in Vietnam you get married, and then you have to flee the country, leaving you Vietnamese bride behind. And then you remarry in the states and start a new life for yourself only to find out your Vietnamese wife is still in love with you and is raising your love child, who you knew nothing of. And then when you finally fly back to see her in Vietnam she kills herself so you can raise your child in the states.

I mean these every day trials happen to us all at one time or another. Am I right?

Whenever I see a show like this it makes me think of how great my life is. Mostly that I don’t have an illegitimate child...in Vietnam…that I know of…yet.

Friday, May 8, 2009

Sweet, Sweet, Paula


Did any one catch, as I did, this little production number on American Idol the other night? Admittedly I am not a follower of the show but as I was flipping through the channels, imagine my surprise when I spotted what appeared to be Paula Abdul singing and dancing. Upon closer inspection I realized it was her. But something wasn’t quite right.

Now don’t get me wrong, I have on all the respect in the world for Ms. Abdul. She gave us such great 90’s hits as Cold Hearted Snake, Opposites Attract (in fact when anyone ever says “two steps forward” I instinctively belt out, “and two steps back we come together because ‘cause opposites attract and you know…”well you know the rest.). And who can forget my favorite of all her songs Vibeology. I love that part when she shouts, “horny horns” (I have to laugh everytime because what does that even mean?). Thanks for that Paula, that’s true artistry.

But when I watched her dancing and lip syncing, so she could not sound winded, I couldn’t help but think, “Ah good Paula, this doesn’t seem to be your thing any more.” It almost seemed inappropriate for her age, didn’t it?

You know I would rather step on my tongue then criticize others, but come on Paula, your moment has passed. Let’s just stick to your witty, sometimes puzzling comments on American Idol.

If it’s just me I will shut up, but Paula your singing/dancing window is now shut. Let’s move on buddy.

Monday, May 4, 2009

Summer Movie Kick Off

It’s that time of the year again friends, the launch of the summer movie season.

Now I am one of those people that has to be there opening day when a big movie opens. I have been known, in the past, to take the day off of work to see a movie that I feel is worthy of my time and money.

I like to be around the “movie crazies” aren't they too much? The “crazies” who cheer when they hear the THX sound blast through the theatre, those “crazies” who yell obscenities at the screen when the villain comes on, and those “crazies’ who dress up as their favorite movie characters. Weirdos!

So there I was, dressed up as Wolverine with my spandex and butter knives duct taped to my knuckles. I was genuinely so excited to see what I thought would be one of the coolest movies of the year.

This year some of my family joined me for the “Wolverine” red carpet. My mom was dressed as Storm, my father pulled off Professor X very well, of course. And my younger brother and his wife were dressed as Rogue and Ice Man (You really have to respect a man who shows up to a movie wearing white body paint and a Speedo.)

I had such high hopes for this movie friends. I was hoping it would be one of those cool comic book movies, a la X-Men, X2, Spider-Man 2, and the Dark Knight.

But friends, if I have learned one thing in life, it is this little tidbit of knowledge, never go into a movie with high expectations. You will always be disappointed.

Well needless to say, during the second half of the movie I realized that “Wolverine” was just a good movie, not a great one as I had hoped. And let’s be honest, wearing spandex in an ice cold movie theater, not such a good wardrobe choice. And let's be honest, my butter knife blades began to be a little droopy.

Well friends, Wolverine, wasn’t as bad as Daredevil, Electra, or Meteor Man, but was about par with X-Men: The Last Stand. So at this point, my excitement about the summer movie season was quickly wained.

I am hoping Star Trek is better.

By the way, does any one know where I can get some latex Vulcan ears?