House, Parties, and Friends

Guitar Party in the Kitchen

Here's some photos and video footage I've been collecting for a while. They all kind of fit together conceptually. Sort of. They're from various parties and dinners we've been throwing throughout the Spring, as well as pictures of our house, which I don't think I've really put on this website yet. Enjoy!

• Pictures
• Video (10:51)

Posted 11:41 AM | Comments (1)

The PDA Saga

My PDA arrived today. A total of 2 days after I ordered it. Now that's quick. For those who need confirmation of the fact that I'm a nerd, look no further than the fact that this is a big enough event that I've decided I needed to dedicate a backtracked journal entry to it. But really, it was a big thing, having spent so much time shopping for it.

I made a rather hasty decision to buy it. I had been holding out for a PDA/cell phone all-in-one device, but I was getting tired of waiting (it's been a good 9 months wait for Sprint to produce something). Then I saw an article on Tuesday about Sprint committing to a Bluetooth phone over the next month, so I decided what the hell, let's go with a PDA-bluetooth phone combination. I'll get all the same features as the all-in-one device, but additionally I'll get a more powerful and expandable PDA, and I also won't have to lug a PDA around whenever I only need a phone. So, we'll see if I made the right decision as time goes on.

In the meantime, I got a Dell Axim for $250 off the Dell refurbished site. It's a PocketPC, which I chose over Palm mostly for the handwriting recognition software. I was thinking I wanted something with integrated Bluetooth and 802.11 (like an iPaq 5400), but that would have cost me $700 just for the PDA. Instead, I purchased CF cards for Bluetooth and 802.11, which gives my Dell the same functionality for a much cheaper price ($140 for the two cards). And I still have my SD Card slot for extra memory. Just for kicks, I also added a GPS receiver for $170. I've already been testing it, and I like it a lot. Pretty accurate, and I love the voice directions (turn right here...).

So now I'm learning how to use my PDA and adding all sorts of software. It'll probably take me a little while to get everything on there. But it's going to be sweet—handwriting recognition so I can jot down poems anywhere; games (lots of free things, plus SimCity 2000 and Age of Empires); Nintendo emulator; DOS emulator; Atari emulator; photo albums (goodbye bulky wallet photos); MP3 player (I bought a 256MB card just for MP3s); dictionary; scriptures; and so on. And there's tons of E-books available for it (including the entire Shakespeare library). The GPS stuff will be really nice in London, as well.

Now, if only I had a Bluetooth cell phone.

Posted 12:08 PM | Comments (1)

Curtis' Funeral

This morning was Curtis's funeral. I wore my suit to work and went straight to the funeral at 11:00. Everyone at work asked about the suit and when I told them about Curtis, who none of them know of course, everyone seemed to be pretty shocked, which kind of surprised me, because I wouldn't be so shocked to learn of a co-worker going to a funeral for a relative or someone who had been sick for a long time. But maybe the tragedy of the accident and his born and unborn daughters was overwhelming. Michael R. had read about Curtis in the newspaper, which was strangely satisfying for me to hear.

I just barely got to the funeral on time. It was at a church up in the hills northeast of Provo Temple. I had to use my GPS software to find the place, as the address was one of the few in all of Utah that didn't follow a coordinate grid. So I guess that proves the worth of the GPS stuff I bought . Anyways, the church was packed. I found a place beside some other Frisbee people. Everybody was there, including Don and Jessica and Mike and Adam (whose arm and leg were in a cast) and Jeff and Dave and Heather and Kristie and the list could go on for quite a while. Curtis' brother (Matt) and sister, who I don't really know, gave the eulogy. Some other members of his family and Amy's family spoke, but somewhat disappointingly, not Amy. She was there, and I really would like to have heard what she thought of all this. Members of his bishopric spoke, both the one in the ward to which he belonged, and the one for the BYU ward for which he was the first counselor. I had not known he was in a bishopric. It didn't surprise me. Also, his dad who was a General Authority of some kind spoke.

Of all the speeches, I found those of Curtis' siblings most moving. Partly because of the memories and partly because they were the most honest and authentic in their emotions. His dad and the and church leaders seemed to be holding something back. They seemed more concerned with offering us with formulaic reassurances than remembering Curtis. Which I guess is what a lot of people wanted, so I can't fault them too much. One thing that did annoy me was that some people espoused the argument that the reason Curtis died was because the Lord needed him to serve some greater mission in the Spirit World. This was obviously an important belief for a lot of the family, because they chose to sing "Called to Serve" at the end of the funeral. "Called to Serve" at a funeral! That's an argument I hear a lot about death, and it seemed especially convenient to look back at Curtis' great life and say he already did everything he was sent to this Earth to do, so it was time for him to move on. To me, that's just bull. I mean, that's almost like blaming the Lord, without so much anger. That's just people latching on to anything they can find to comfort themselves because they're afraid they may not find meaning otherwise. But the fact is, it was an untimely accident, pure and simple. What do the dead need so urgently of Curtis that we don't? For the dead, time is infinite. If the Lord had anything to do with it at all, I strongly suspect that His purpose was for us, the living. But whether or not He had a purpose, Curtis's death still has meaning. I don't yet know what that meaning is. It's probably not the same meaning for everyone, either. What's important is that we look for that meaning instead of trying to avoid the problem by attributing death to the cold, impersonal logistical needs of the Lord.

At any rate, throughout the funeral, as I learned more and more about Curtis, I was amazed. I mean, I knew he had an award-winning personality and he was almost like deity in his atheleticism, but hearing about how he acted around other's, especially his siblings and seeing how much he was loved by everyone, that was just amazing to me. Makes me wish I was more like him. And then he was smart, especially when it came to sciences and math. And he participated in school plays and student body and all sorts of things. He was an AP out on his mission. He was very focused—he had a list of life goals that he made after his mission, and he had accomplished all of them. And he was only my age. All and all a very admirable person. Everything was going for him. The more I get to know him, the more tragic his death seems.

I didn't necessarily cried, but I was unable to avoid shedding a few tears. That, and you know how your face gets all tensed up and your cheeks start hurting as you get really sad? I had that going through the entire funeral. And I could see that I wasn't alone. After the service, nobody spoke much. All of the Frisbee guys and gals gathered in the middle of the chapel, but not much speaking. They then went on to the family graveside service, where they had been asked to sing a hymn. But I didn't attend since I hadn't been specifically invited and I would have felt kind of funny in the presence of a whole bunch of people who knew Curtis so much better than I. Instead, I returned to work.

Later that day, we had our first post-Curtis ultimate game. I should probably back up to Tuesday night for a second and mention that very few people came out to play Frisbee, much less our team to practice. Chris and I threw and a few others showed up, but the core group was absent and we couldn't get a game going. Jon called to apologize for not showing up to the practice that he had proposed we all show up to. Only Cory from our team showed. And for the most part, no one talked. It was a very strange and somber night. Coincidentally, Cory was in the BYU ward that Curtis provided over. I have a hard time imagining what that must be like, to learn as a Freshman in college that such a charismatic member of your bishopric had just died in a car accident. With Fast Sunday happening the very next day, that must have been an intense sacrament meeting.

Back to Thursday, though, it was very cold and rainy. Before our game, the entire league got together and held a moment of silence. Ben also announced that we would be remembering Curtis by giving out a league Spirit Award each season in his name. As for our game, it actually wasn't as hard to get back in the Frisbee playing mode as I thought it would be. We didn't have everyone there, but we had enough people for two subs. We were playing Don Clark's team, which was decent although not extraordinarily good. Bryan Peterson, whose left had is in a cast still from the accident, was on their team and he actually played, which I think was probably a therapeutic decision on his behalf, essentially saying that he's not going to let the accident spoil his fun. Funny thing was, he actually scored on us a few times, partly because we didn't want to cover him too hard and hurt his arm, and partly because his legs were just fine. Man, does he have jets. He even dove once, which was probably a stupid thing. Anyways, we lost the game. We had a horrible first half, I guess, as everyone tried to get into a groove. We kept pace in the second half, but by then it was too late.

Soaked and very cold, I left after the game to go home and start packing for Europe.

Posted 09:19 PM | Comments (2)

Day 1: The Journey Begins

And I'm off. Leg 1 of the DC-London-Desutchland tour. On Southwest Airlines. I'm really not a big fan, but it's not a very crowded flight. I'm going to try to get a lot of sleep here since I didn't last night and this morning. I stayed up pretty late last night. Then I woke up pretty early this morning to pack, get into work early, and build the documentation for 5.1. This took forever since somebody made a really bad decision on a change in PCScript processing that really would have screwed up our existing customers. Only nobody realized this until I got half way through documenting it and thought, hey wait a second, this is going to screw everyone up. So we had to backtrack, figure out how it needed to work, undocument, redocument, and rebuild the documentation. Good thing I came in early, and good thing they told me about this before they went ahead and released 5.1.

Then I had to race home, where Jonathon was waiting to take me to the airport. I just barely got to the airport 25 minutes before my flight, but luckily there were no lines. And the plane's very empty. Right now I'm just glad to have a little down time. Not that I've been working too hard, but there just hasn't been a lot of room for reflection.

It occurred to me that I've spent a lot of time this week talking about Curtis and Ultimate and stuff, but I haven't said anything about other events. Granted, these "other" events were few and far between. I spent a lot of time figuring out (finally) how to transfer some of the video I've been taking to my PC, so that I have blank tapes for the trip. This was a lot harder than it should have been. There are a lot of things I like about Windows Movie Maker, but it sure is buggy. Of course, compared to the other Video Eidting software I have, at least it works. My big problem has to do with sound. When I first tried to transfer things, I saved everything as DV, and from there edited out some stuff and resaved to WMV. Unfortunately, somewhere along the line the sound gets all distorted on about half my tapes. I still haven't figured out why. I think it has something to do with how I record it on the tape (12 bits vs. 16 bits). And I still haven't figured out how to fix it. At least I have three tapes for Europe, though.

And, of course, I spent a lot of time playing with my PDA. I installed all sorts of software and MP3s and stuff. I like it a lot. Had some troubles synchronizing, but only when I throw my laptop into the mix. I get some duplicate contacts and calendar events. I think I've fixed the problem though. I downloaded a lot of ebooks and got maps for Europe. I'm a little disappointed on the GPS stuff. There's this PocketStreets program I bought that has great maps (it shows bus stops and restaurants and post offices and all sorts of things), but is slow to update the GPS and doesn't have any way to program routes or get directions. Then there's the Pharos Mpas, that came with the GPS system. Those give great directions, but are kind of sucky when it comes to the maps (just the streets, and it's hard to navigate them unless you've asked for a route). I'm sure there's a better solution, but I'm done spending money. I'm also a little disappointed with the location of the headphone jack. It intereferes with my GPS unit, so it's going to be impossible to listen to MP3s and use the GPS system at the same time. Other complaints include the 802.11 card not being strong enough to pick up a signal upstairs in my house, and the handwriting recognition not being able to figure out my 'y's and 'x's and '4's (Guess I have to learn to write differently). On the flip side, I'm having fun playing Zelda and other Nintendo games. And, of course, SimCity.

In other news, Katie contacted me earlier this week about doing an internship with Corda. She needs to do one for her class, and she can't find any that are paying, so she's volunteered to do a non-paying internship for us. Which is fine by me, since there's plenty of stuff to do. Like converting all of the screenshots to a better format or building an index. The only down side is it's only for the Spring term, which ends late June.

Finally, there's the Lakers-Spurs series to keep my mind occupied. Chris and I have been watching that. Looks like it's finally the Spurs turn. They destroyed the Lakers on Monday and Wednesday. Was hardly even fun to watch. Well, I take that back. Watching Chris watch the Lakers get devastated is loads of fun. They're playing right now, too. While I'm stuck on a plane. Guess I'll find out the score soon enough.

Update: Chris and Katie and Bryan picked me up from the airport in Baltimore. They were a little late. But the game was still going. Spurs didn't do so hot, and Chris let me know it :(. Got home. Played Chess with Bryan on my PDA (I just love showing off new toys). And now I'm going to sleep at about 2:30 in the morning.

Posted 12:21 PM | Comments (1)

Day 2: South Pacific, starring Bryan Rees

Not much happened today up until Bryan's play. I did some laundry and read a little (I brought John Updike's In the Beauty of the Lillies, which I bought back in December because I needed something to read on my way to Michigan. I'm only 150 pages through it). Then we went to eat at some Italian place near the Kohl's where mom works. Then we dropped off Bryan for his rehearsals, went home and goofed off a little more, and finally returned around 7:30 for the play.

Update: here's some pictures of Bryan in the play

I should note that Dad's in Ohio still, with the Austin Science Olympiad kids. It's Nationals this weekend, and they had an "emergency" with one of the events, so dad went out to help. Whatever, I say. Dad was looking for any excuse to go out there. I can't believe he still keeps such close contact with these kids. He's been gone from Austin 2 years, and it's been even longer since one of his own kids was involved with the program. Guess he just really wants to work with kids.

Don't worry though, supposedly he'll be home in time for Mother's Day tomorrow. And he'll catch Bryan's play next week. In the meantime, Chris and I sat on the back row and recorded the event (I got to use my tripod for the first time). Actually, it was more like I recorded and Chris played "Conquest," which is a Risk type game on my PDA. We've been playing off and on all day. Not quite as fun as risk though, because the AI opponents are pretty easy to figure out. But back to the play. I wasn't expecting much from a whole bunch of middle schoolers doing South Pacific, and that's exactly what I got. It's hard to find a thirteen year old that can sing. Still, the lead actress did a pretty good job. Bryan, meanwhile, was great. Well, not singing, really, as he didn't really much of a singing part anyways. But I was proud of him for the way he carried himself on the stage. He looked like he really belonged up there, which is more than I can say for a lot of the kids. I hope he keeps doing stuff like this. I sure wish I had tried out for some plays in High School. (A little psychoanalysis: am I bordering along the lines of trying to relive my childhood through my little brother? You bet I am :). Not going to happen, of course, since I'm never around. So I'm not to worried about it, yet).

After that, Chris and Katie and I went out shopping for a Mother's Day present. I thought that with it being 11:00 when we left, we'd have plenty of time to grab something, but Chris and Katie are seriously indecisive and understandably reluctant to spend money. So we spent an hour going through various Manassas pharmacies and grocery stores (along with a surprising amount of other last minute shoppers). Then, they all started to close, so we ended up just grabbing a plant and a card.

Posted 11:22 PM | Comments (1)

Bryan in "South Pacific"

Bryan Plays a Sailor in South Pacific

For those of you who don't know, my little brother Bryan recently performed in his school play, "South Pacific." He was one of the sailors. It was a middle school play, and you could tell. Especially with all the cracking voices. But I'm proud of him. Good job, Bryan.

• Pictures
• Video (47:15)

Posted 11:24 PM | Comments (1)

Day 3: Sunday in Manassas

Bryan spoke at church today. He's quite funny on the podium. Very good deadpan. As for the rest of the talk, on one hand, it's amazing how much pose he has. On the other, he's got to watch it a bit with the overconfidence. He tries to do some things as he speaks that don't quite come off right, and I guess a lot of that has to do with age and lack of experience. It seems a little unauthentic, as if he intellectually gets what he's saying, but the emotion's not there. As if he's playing a game and he's solved the puzzle, but doesn't understand why he was solving the puzzle. Or maybe the problem is things come out a little too simplified, again because he hasn't yet had to contemplate any other paradigms, and therefore doesn't understand why no one gets what to him is so obvious. In short, he reminds me a lot of myself at that age. In particular, I can think back to one talk I gave where I ate up almost the whole sacrament meeting (I'm kind of surprised the Bishop didn't kick me to say, "time's up, kiddo. Got to have our adults speak."). I remember some of the jokes I told and insights I tried to make were just way beyond my experience. And Sister Harlow came up afterwards and said, "I can't believe you had the guts to pull that off." Back then I thought that was in reference to a joke I made about girls. But now that I think about it, I think her statement stemmed more out of the same mixed feelings I have about Bryan's talk.

Anyways, not much else happened until the missionaries came over for dinner (how is it that they always seem to come when I come? I guess mom likes making an excuse for a big meal). The only thing interesting with the meal was that one of the missionaries had been there for Christmas. And he reminded me of the "Nut in Pie" incident, which really needs to be told. Amy and Susie were in the kitchen making chocolate mousse pies (this was back during Christmas vacation, remember), when I walked in and they suddenly asked me what I would have done, as a missionary, had I taken a bite of something that wasn't supposed to be crunchy (i.e. a chocolate mousse pie), and found something crunchy instead (i.e. a nut). I said I would probably just ignore it and keep eating. Well, they're laughing hysterically as they said this and they finally confessed to me their secret experiment. Each of the pies was to have one walnut in them, and each missionary would get the slice with the nut. I decided that this was a pretty fair experiment, and we went for it. My mission was to find out if they had any nut allergies. I forget how I did this now, but I'm sure it was very clever. So it came time for desert, and the girls started dishing out the pie. Only, they forgot where the nuts where. So mid-way through it, Amy took a bite and suddenly stops chewing and looks around and starts laughing hysterically. She had a nut. And so, we soon discovered, did Susie. To this day, the missionary claims we were trying to poison him. Well, anyway, it was funny. You probably had to be there.

The only other event of the day was actually a little bit of a non-event. Chris and I were supposed to watch the Lakers vs. Spurs game, only the missionaries interrupted that. So mom put a tape in the VCR and started recording. But she recorded the wrong channel. So much for that. The Lakers won, by the way. So it's all evened up. Apparently it was pretty close. If only the Spurs could find a way to win in L.A.

Posted 11:56 PM | Comments (1)

Day 4: Flying to London / Thoughts on "The Hours"

I pretty much had the house to myself today before the plane flight. Chris and Katie went down to UV for interviews and housing and stuff. Bryan went to school. Mom and Dad both had to work. So I just read a little and did some video processing (wanted to get South Pacific on Bryan's computer so I could free up a tape). I also scanned in all my wallet photos so I could make my wallet thinner and put the pictures on my PDA. Dad came home to pick me up in the afternoon, and we ended up leaving a little later than we wanted to, because I was trying to get the pictures off their network and couldn't get my laptop to connect properly. So instead of dad taking me to Vienna and leaving me to find my way to Reagan Airport via the Metro, he took me all the way into Reagan. Which I had no complaints about, since I didn't want to carry around my bags on the Metro. My flight plan was to fly to New York (LGA) and then on to London Heathrow. It was my first time to Reagan, believe it or not. Not much to say about it, besides it has a very boring layout and a lot of security. I got there with plenty of time, so I changed some money over to pounds ($140 for got 80£. Plus a $5 fee to change the money. Horrible exchange rate if you ask me). I also bought some sunglasses. I lost mine sometime at the end of last year. With summer coming, though, I figure it's about time to get a new pair. At LGA, I ended up waiting a couple of hours for our plane to leave. I got a sandwich at TGIFridays. Thanks to a computer problem, our flight left about an hour late (9:15 EST).

So far, the flight's been uneventful. The flight's very empty. I got an aisle seat on the inside column. There's absolutely no one between me and the guy at the other end of the aisle. Since the guy in front of me decided to lean his chair back, I've just scooted over a seat. Plenty of room for leaning back and sleeping. The only problem is, I can't sleep. This is kind of frustrating because it's going to be mid-morning when I get into London. I guess I shouldn't have slept in so long this morning. I've been playing games and reading the in-flight magazine and watching movies to distract me. Oh, and I love this plane. So much better than the last international flight I took, way back at the end of my mission. On the back of every seat is a television screen, so you can watch whatever you want. Including the flight map, if you so choose.

I just finished watching "The Hours." Fantastic movie, if you ask me. At some points, I felt like there was just a little bit missing. Like there had been some cuts. Well, I guess since it was based on a book, this is to be expected. But it's a really thought provoking piece, and has gotten me thinking. First of all, I just want to say the opening scene(s), with the build-up along all three timelines to the opening passage of Mrs. Dalloway—"I think I shall buy the flowers myself"—is incredible. Great cinematography, and great storytelling.

Besides that, there were three moments that really stuck out during the movie. First off, there's Richard's "Ah, Mrs. Dalloway...always giving parties to cover the silence." There's just so much being said with that statement. First, the silence. What silence? Well, the emptiness of a trivial existence, that's what. The silence one gets back sometimes when he/she starts asking what it's all for. I've been extremely disturbed by the possibility of this silence lately. With Curtis' death for example, but also beginning with back at the end of last year when I was trying to get in the mindset of my main character in the story I've been writing. He has cancer and is like Richard, resigned to death. My character also has failed to find any comfort in religion, which I believe is implied for most of the characters in the movie. The more and more I got into that character, the more and more I began to wonder about the "silence" he was hearing. And though I haven't ever framed it in such elegant words—"cover," that's such a fantastic word for it—I began to wonder if I was doing something to cover my own silence. Like religion. So anyways, here's this guy, Richard, who is either tired of the silence, or unable to cover it, or something, and I just look at him and see how empty he is. And meanwhile, there's Clarissa who seems terrified by this statement. Like she knows about the silence, and she's worried that she could be doing exactly as Richard says, covering it. So on one hand, this silence is so terrifying, but on the other hand, Clarissa just shakes it off, as if to say, "so what if there is silence. What's wrong with covering it with something?" Because if you don't, you'll end up like Richard, unable to live at all in the end. And sure, the silence will come and interrupt life every once in a while, as it does for Clarissa, but at least you're able to live.

Secondly, there's Clarissa's statement to Richard, "That is what we do. That is what people do. They stay alive for each other." Just a little aside here—Meryl Streep was fantastic as Clarissa. One of her best performances ever, I think. But anyways, this statement sort of goes along with Richard's statement to Clarissa, "What about your own life?!! Just wait until I die, then you will have to think of yourself." And that all ties back to the silence. Richard's essentially saying that Clarissa is avoiding her own silence by worrying about Richard all the time. But this is exactly the point. Richard hears the silence because he's so self-absorbed in his own existence that he doesn't hear anyone else. Clarissa can cover the silence because she extends beyond herself, almost forgets herself really, as she tries to make everyone else happy. I think this rings true for myself as well. When I get depressed, I'm really being selfish. Thinking too much about my own existence, until suddenly the purpose of the universe collapses into the single, mortal being that is myself. And when you're only looking at yourself for answers, of course you're going to get silence because there's no one but yourself to give you answers. But when I'm occupying my time with others, when I expand my universe to the whole of mankind, with its infinite potential, suddenly my own silence disappears because there is so much more there. I mean, I'm going to die. Eventually, I'm going to non-exist. But mankind can go on and on forever, if we so choose. And thus, if invest my purpose in mankind's purpose, I can exist forever as well. And so, as Clarissa says, I'm staying alive for others, just as they're staying alive for me. It's a metaphysical contract, really. I'll keep the silence away if you keep the silence away. And that way we can keep living and stave off non-existence. Of course, I'm not saying that Richard would keep living if he weren't so self-centered. Richard doesn't want to cover the silence. So we're really talking about two different philosophies for existence. Richard's paradigm seems right to him. He says that after all, there's still the silence. So why bother. His paradigm says essentially that death and life—existence and non-existence—have the same utility. No one is more valuable than the other. And in fact, death has a higher utility because it doesn't have to fight against the silence. Clarissa's paradigm meanwhile, assumes that life is definitely more valuable than death, no matter the silence. It's this basic assumption that keeps us alive, and gives the entire human race meaning. There's no logic to this assumption, at least not that I can rationalize at the moment, but it's an emotional assumption most of us all make. Richard's paradigm shift, his lack of such an assumption, is not only dangerous to himself, but to all mankind. Because by removing himself from the human race, he takes away that which gives meaning to others.

And finally, there's Virginia Woolf's explanation to her husband of why someone has to die in her novel. She tells him, and I'm paraphrasing here because I can't remember exactly, that "someone has to die so that the rest of us realize the value of life." First of all, just applying this to the vague argument I've been building here, the story seems to be saying that, despite my assertion that Richard's paradigm shift is dangerous, his death is still valuable to the rest of humanity because it shows us the value of life. How does it do that? By reminding us of the silence and reminding us of the alternative to life and forcing us to crystallize our belief that life is more desirable than death. We mourn because we realize just how much potential Richard's death has removed from our common vested interest in life and humankind. But metaphysical arguments and literary analysis aside, this part of the film really got to me because of, of course, Curtis—the idea that he died so that we could appreciate life. I think his death has really helped me to come to a lot of the same conclusions that I'm arguing Clarissa has made. I don't want to be overdramatic here, but I wonder if one way of looking at his death would be to say he died so I could get on living. These last few months; well, especially over winter, I've been so self-absorbed, so (I guess I'm finally admitting this to myself) depressed about the possibility that maybe all my religious beliefs are just a cover and I could suddenly die and my entire life will have been meaningless. It's like I was half-expecting myself to die. And then suddenly Curtis dies and I realize that on one hand, I'm dead right about the fragility of life, and on the other hand, I've been wasting my time worrying about my own death because it's going to happen eventually. There's nothing anyone can do about it, so just keep on living and enjoy it. And find stuff to do so I can cover the silence. Even if my religious beliefs about life and death are wrong, it doesn't matter in the long run because they will have covered the silence and allowed me to live. I don't know. I'm logically trying to explain away what is really an emotional and religious state, but basically I'm suddenly more comfortable with Curtis' death, and death in general.

As well as life. I think I'm seeing things a little more clearly now. I'm beginning to realize that I've been too concerned my entire life with achieving something that will preserve my name for future generations. What I should be concerned about is mankind achieving something. Some happiness. Some perfection. Some infinity. Something to give mankind the meaning that seems so impossible to find in my own, singular life. This, I'm beginning to think, is what religion and God is all about. The swallowing up of the self in others. The realization that we are all intertwined. We cannot exalt ourselves, rather we must be exalted together with others, by others. It's a grand human vision—an eternal human family. The only vision that seems worthwhile.

In closing, just by way of clarification, I think it might appear to some people that I'm ignoring God in this discussion. And I just want to clarify myself (I know, I know, perhaps I'm just trying to cover my silence). A lot of the time we use God's "mysterious will" as the end-all answer to questions about life and death. But I really think He is just the beginning to the answer. Sure, I believe in a Creator. But you know what, I don't think in the end we're going to die, meet God, and suddenly find that existence makes sense. That silence—the possibility of non-existence—is still going to be there, and we've got to take a stance on it, whether it be now or later. So I'm just looking for answers that don't end with God. And that's why I've arrived at this human vision thing. Think about it, if God didn't create us, what would there be? Nothing, except God. And silence. I'm wondering if God needs us to cover the silence as much as we need Him. By us eternally progressing, achieving some infinity, God Himself achieves meaning. Because there suddenly is that Other that He can contract with—that expands beyond himself into something larger. It says existence is better than non-existence. And if you're willing to believe, as do I, that He is just an extension of the human family—the Father of us all, you see that this human vision is His own vision.

Posted 11:58 PM | Comments (1)

Day 5: London on 2 Hours Sleep

Well, here I am. I landed around 9:00 A.M. and after the lines and a lot of walking and a lot of carrying around my suitcases I made my way to the London Heathrow Express. That cost me about 12 pounds. Got me into Paddington in less than 15 minutes, though. Nothing special about the train (besides maybe the tv)--reminded me of the trains in Sydney. The station exit dumped me right off on some street corner, and it took me a little while to figure out where I was with my Pocket Streets program. I discovered quite unfortunately that my London maps aren't quite programmed with correct GPS coordinates. They seem to be a few blocks off. (Thanks a lot Microsoft). I wonder if the Germany maps have the same problem. Well, they'll still do for helping me get around. Anyway, so I was lost and kind of disoriented for a little while on the streets of London. And my arms were really tired from lugging around my luggage. I really need to get new bags with wheels, instead of these 8 year old things with wheels having fallen off. But I found the hotel. The New Haven Plaza Hotel. It's actually in the same white, block-long building as a number of other hotels. Seems kind of like a series of flats that got converted to hotels because they were so close to Paddington station. The New Haven Plaza hotel is by far the most elaborate, which is probably why I found it on the Internet. I was worried they wouldn't let me in until 2:00, because that's what they advertise, but I got there at 11:00 and they let me in. It's a small room. Just a bed, TV and bathroom. But it was a great price, and besides, I don't plan to do anything but sleep in it. Actually, as soon as I walked in, I decided to take a nap, since I didn't get much sleep on the plane. If I hadn't set my alarm, I might have slept all the way into evening. But I managed to wake up to the alarm around 1:00, and I reluctantly arose (couldn't afford to waste an afternoon of sunlight). First thing I did was go downstairs and arranged a Stonehenge tour. I didn't get the tour I wanted, which would have been tomorrow, but I got one for Thursday. Then I decided to go tour Westminster Abbey. The tour I wanted to go on started at 2:00, and I asked the receptionist how long it would take to walk down there, and she thought no more than half an hour or so, so I started walking (I didn't want to risk getting lost on the tube). I went through Hyde Park, which is huge, but very nice. Lots of soccer and joggers. I walked by Buckingham Palace. Didn't even realize what it was until I saw the guards. And then I found Westminster. Now, I'm going to confess a bit of ignorance here. I knew Westminster was where "the Abbey" was, but I didn't realize that it was the center of everything. Big Ben. Parliament House. It caught me a little off guard. I even had a faulty understanding of what the 'Abbey' was. I had no idea it was a full-fledge Cathedral where kings were buried. I was thinking more along the lines of something outdoors, like the walk in Hollywood, with all these poet graves. So yes, I'm stupid. But I'm learning. On a sidenote, maybe I was just distracted, but it's a 45 minute walk at least. I just barely got there in time for the tour, and I think wearing sandals was a really bad idea because I could already feel the blisters then (they got worse later).

So the tour I went on was part of this "Walks of London" series. I picked up a pamphlet on it at the airport just because I was bored and wanted some reading material. I'm glad I did. It's really cool. You land a whole bunch of other people) meet a guide outside of a train station and for 5 pounds, he'll take you around and show you things. No appointments necessary. They have a wide variety of customized "walks," a different selection each day of the week. A great way to see London. Much better than all the double-decker buses going around, unable to stop and get close to anything. Our tour guide was a strange fellow. He wore a suit coat, but underneath it was a well worn pink polo shirt. He was unshaven and almost looked like a bum. But he was very enthusiastic and knowledgeable and had a great English wit. He took our group of about 15 people around the Abbey. the Parliament building, and into the backstreets, giving us all sorts of interesting histories. Learned a lot about British politics. Even walked by party headquarters. There were a couple of American chicks in our group, as well as a single Aussie chick from Brisbane. Cool chicks, but they were all leaving tomorrow, so kind of difficult to make a move. Everybody else was, ironically, British. We ended up by Winston Churchill's war room around 4:00.

About that time, it really started to rain. It had been sprinkling off and on. But this was a downpour. I was really not dressed for it. Come to think of it, I was really not packed for it. It was a very cold day, and I was in short sleeves and sandals. I did have the foresight to bring my BYU sweatshirt at least, but that's the only thing I packed that will keep me warm. Anyways, I found shelter outside the north door of the Abbey for about half an hour. I was hoping to go in, but it was closed. I was thinking of trying again tomorrow. Then the rain stopped, and I took a stroll down the north bank of the Thames. It's a decent size river. I took a few pictures of the bridges. What interested me the most was the pubs that were housed in barges right on the river. I almost stopped in one of these for dinner, but I decided there was still time to do other things before eating. So I cut on over to Trafalgar Square and took a very rapid 30 minute stroll through the National Portrait Museum. By then it was 6:00 and everything was closing, so I ate at the nearest restaurant I could find, Garfunkles. I've seen a couple of them, so I guess they're some sort of chain or something. I had fish and chips. But not like fast food fish and chips wrapped up in Newspaper and eaten on the sidewalk. I've still got to find me some of that. This was more restaurant style, the fish not even fried. It was still good, of course. Two observations about eating in England so far. First off, food is expensive. Judging from the various menus I've looked at, as well as McDonalds, the prices are just slightly higher than America when it comes to the numbers. However, when you consider the exchange rate, you realize things are twice as expensive. Secondly, do you know how hard it is to get a decent cup of water? I ask for water and they asked "mineral or sparkling?" And when I said tap, they just kind of looked at me funny. But they gave it to me anyways, so that's good. Oh, and finally, everyone here seems to smoke. The non-smoking section was really small, and there's no way I wasn't getting second hand smoke. But I'll tell you, there were some hot chicks eating alone in the smoking section. If I hadn't been so tired, I would have gone over there and flirted. Well, maybe.

From there, I walked back down to St. James Park. That's a pretty cool park. Lots of water fowl. Then I went to Buckingham Palace, this time with a little more time to observe. The cool thing here was I managed to be right at the gate when Tony Blair drove out of the palace. Complete with motorcade and everything. I tried to get it on video, but I'm not sure you can see him. And from there, I went back through Hyde Park. I tried to find a Frisbee game, which supposedly was going on, but couldn't. Besides, I was wet and my feet had blisters and I was wicked tired. So I guess it's a good thing I didn't find a game. From Hyde Park I walked back to the hotel. It was probably 8:30 when I walked in, and I just crashed. Like immediately. In fact, it's tomorrow morning already when I'm writing this.

Posted 11:01 PM | Comments (0)

Day 6: Where Literary Giants Walked

I slept in a little this morning. Well, a lot, considering how early I went to sleep. It was about 9:00 when I got up. And then I had the English breakfast downstairs. This basically meant eggs, bacon, sausage, mushrooms, tomatoes, and biscuits. And it was a lot of food. I don't know if it was worth the price, still. But I was too lazy to go elsewhere. I was also hoping to meet some other tourists. And I guess I could have, but besides some British businessmen, there was a German couple and a large group from Chicago, but they seemed all coupled off. After breakfast I headed off for another "Walks of London" tour—this one to go see "Dicken's and Shakespeare's London." This one started at St. Paul's tube, so I decided to brave the subway today. It was like 5 pounds for the whole day, so it was a pretty good deal. And I can really see the convenience, especially in the inner city. Man, I took that thing practically everywhere today.

Anyways, the Dicken's and Shakespeare tour group was bigger, but with absolutely no chicks. The guide was this old British lady. She was a pro: well-rehearsed with great info and totally authentically British accent. The first thing we did was walk around St. Paul's cathedral, which was huge, but a little obscured by construction. Then we walked around the streets and alleys between St. Paul's and the river. We saw things like taverns and old schoolhouses and graves that would have been around in Shakespeare's or Dicken's time. And, of course, we learned a little about their life histories in relation to the city. So it was a great time. It really helped me understand where Dickens and Shakespeare were coming from.

After the tour, I went and visited the Museum of London for a little bit. That had a whole bunch of artifacts and information about London. I was mostly interested in the B.C. stuff, about the various Roman and native settlements in the area. From there, I hopped back on the tube and headed back down to Westminster. I was still pretty full from breakfast, so I skipped lunch (although I did get a bottle of juice from a stand next to the tube). In Westminster, I went straight for the Abbey. That is one impressively old building. Lots of dead people (or at least memorials) in there. It's somewhat surprising how chaotically it's all organized, though. You can definitely tell it's been a organized extemporaneously throughout the ages. It was cool seeing where all these kings and queens were buried, especially the ones I knew a little bit about. Like Charles I and II. And I found it funny to see kings and queens from different families (i.e. War of the Roses) all buried in the same place, as if the whole of English history was actually one long, happy tale, all sanctioned or guided or whatever by the keepers of the Abbey.

At any rate, you can probably guess my favorite part of the Abbey. Yep, Poet's Corner. It's amazing how many writers and artists were there. Dylan Thomas. Thomas Hardy. Dickens. Handel. Newton. And, of course, Eliot. It was just awe inspiring to be in this place surrounded by such greatness, and think back to a time when these very same people perhaps stood in the exact same place—they too in awe of the greatness. And then them becoming a part of this greatness... It really helped me understand where Eliot may have been coming from on "Tradition and the Individual Talent." And it also put "Little Gidding" in perspective. I mean, here's Eliot, watching the world fall apart, and then he looks at the Abbey and all the history there, complete with its own chaos, but the chaos doesn't matter anymore because it's all in an immortal rest at the Abbey. No wonder he wanted to become Anglican—become a part of this. 'Cause suddenly he sees that the epoch of his own WWII England is just a big part of this gigantic beast of British history at the Abbey, and it doesn't matter anymore. I probably stood next to his memorial for 15 minutes just soaking it all in. The epitaph was especially poignant—"the fire and the rose are one." I can see why the Anglican church would want that epitaph, but I can also see how it's especially relevant to the Abbey; standing so close to the place where the two houses of roses finally became united in death and history.

I also appreciated Tennyson's memorial. It reminded me of "In Memoriam." That seems especially appropriate in regards to Curtis. I mean, it's not the exact same situation, but the words give comfort—"ring in the Christ that is to be." That's the only real solution, isn't it? Looking past death to rebirth. Not necessarily the literal rebirth of anything, but the rebirth that occurs as one's thoughts and ideas and history proliferate throughout the human race, rebirthing oneself a million times over.

So anyways, I explored the whole building and the gardens and whatever. At the very end, I saw Winston Churchill's memorial. I'm beginning to understand the greatness of that man. And I also found the tribute to JFK stirring.

Then I decided it was time to check out The Globe. Actually, the first thing I checked out was the Millenium Bridge. It's a long, pedestrian-only bridge that lines up just about perfectly with St. Paul's Cathedral on one side of the Thames, and The Globe on the other. So I took the tube back to St. Paul's and crossed the bridge, which is cool looking, but nothing overly spectacular. Then I went to the Globe. But I couldn't tour it because they were doing an afternoon production (I hadn't realized that there was a company there still doing plays). But I was delighted to find out that I could still purchase tickets for an evening performance. I mean, who cares about a tour when you can actually experience a play first-hand in the theater. I imagine the performance isn't quite as good as you would find in the finest London theatres, but again, who cares. It's the Globe. I can't understand why they weren't sold out. So anyways, I bought myself a seat. I thought about standing, but my legs were already tired from walking around so much. And then, with about 3 hours before the performance, I took a stroll down the south bank of the Thames to the London Bridge and the Towers of London. It was a pleasant, scenic walk. Both places were closed by the time I got there, but I did get to see the outside, at least.

From there I took the tube over to Piccadilly Circus to see what that was about. As near as I can tell, it's about nothing. Looks like there were a lot of theatres and shopping, but none of that really interested me. And from Piccadilly Circus, I took the tube up to the Royal British Museum, or at least as close as I could get to it. Katie told me I should visit it, but I couldn't find it on my Pocket Street maps. Then when I was walking along the Thames earlier today, I saw a tourist map showing where it was. I had to do some guesswork to find it, but I did eventually. Only it was closed. Luckily, it has late hours tomorrow night, so I can probably see it after Stonehenge. And then I hustled on back to the Globe. By the time I got there, I was starved. So I got a really quick bite to eat at the restaurant there. And I mean really quick—I had to get a cold salmon plate with potato salad. Wait, was it Salmon? I can't remember. Anyways, it was good. A bit expensive, but I was starved and the play was about to start. Outside the globe, they also have a whole bunch of stands that are made to look like they came out of Shakespeare's time. They sell fruit and nuts mostly. So I got a cup of chocolate covered fruits and nuts, which made for a great desert during the play.

As for the play itself, it was Richard II, so I wasn't expecting much. I mean I love the histories, but Richard II? Not the most entertaining read. Instead, it was a great performance. The guy playing Richard was fantastic. Very good at going crazy. And the way they interpreted/performed it made Shakespeare almost easy to understand. I loved the line, "let us sit around the fire and tell sad tales of the death of kings." And Richard's monologue in V.5 was amazing. I love his line (and I'm paraphrasing here because I'm not sure I remember it exactly) "man with nothing shall be pleased till he be eased with being nothing." That really spoke to me. And I think that all goes back to what I was saying a few days ago about "The Hours." If we cannot accept our own nothingness, then nothing will give us pleasure in life. Because no thing is capable of satisfying the individual need to immortalize oneself. It's what we do once we discover our nothingness that is important. It's like Moses discovering that he was nothing. The discovery didn't destroy him, but gave him a greater vision of what man is all about, thus refocusing his efforts on the only thing that really matters.

As for the globe, it was smaller than I had imagined, but cool. My seat was up one the second floor, on the right side of the stage. It was a pretty good view—partly obstructed, but not too bad. During intermission I went down and saw what it would be like to stand on the floor. You can still see things pretty well. And the cool thing is the way the actors interact with audience; flirting, throwing things at it. The audience could even lean up against the stage. Another interesting thing about the theatre was that the company was all males, so there was a little cross-dressing there. The men didn't really do a persuasive job playing women, so that stood out a little. It was almost like they wanted to point out the fact that they were men dressed as women, which made for a surreal performance. At the end of the play, as a sort of encore presentation, they did a little choreographed dance, which we as an audience really enjoyed. Lots of clapping and cheering. I wish we had been allowed to take video of it.

After the play, it was late. Probably about 10:30. So I went back to the hotel and watched a bit of television. Really, it wasn't too different from American television. Except all the commercials were at the end. Now the German stations, those were crazy. Tacky and stupid was more like it. Lots of virtually naked people and way too much techno. I did manage to find out the score of Tuesday's Lakers-Spurs game, though. Spurs won. Apparently Horry missed a three-pointer at the end that would have sealed it for the Lakers. Now they go back to LA, and I hope the Spurs can wrap it up.

Anyways, I have to get up early for the tour tomorrow morning. Good night.

Posted 11:40 PM | Comments (1)

Day 7: Stonehenge, Bath, and the Rosetta Stone

Well, I thought I gave myself plenty of time to get to Victoria Coach station this morning (where our tour was to depart from). I woke up at 6:30. I had a decent breakfast (not the full English breakfast—just the buffet). I got on the tube at Paddington station and made my way to Victoria. Only, once I got there, I couldn't find Victoria Coach station. There's so many different stations just in that two or three block area. The tube, trains, public buses, and on top of it all two or three departure points for various tour companies. I must have gone in circles two or three times before realizing that I needed to go another block south. I just barely got there in time (we were to depart at 8:00). It's sad when you're already tired of walking and the day has yet to begin.

The tour bus had some freaky psychedelic interior; all these way weird color combinations of blues and reds and yellows that should have been outlawed by now. Otherwise, it was a typical bus. Our guide was this old British guy, who again seemed to fit the ambience perfectly. A totally peculiar wit. Always joking about the pub and royalty. Reminded me of a lot of old guys I met in Grafton, Australia. Our driver was pretty cool. He was black and joked a lot, playing the straight man to our driver's absurdity. Our group was pretty small. I don't know—maybe 20 of us. There was one chick in our group who was pretty hot. She was with her mom though, so she was kind of hard to pick up on. Especially since it was my last day.

It took us about an hour and a half to get out to Stonehenge. About 30 minutes of that was driving through the city and seeing what that was like. Man, once you start getting out of the center of London, you see a lot of run-down areas. I mean, there were entire districts of unoccupied office buildings—twenty or thirty story buildings that looked like they had been built maybe twenty years ago, with all of the windows broken and graffiti everywhere. I've never seen anything like that. Usually, if there's office space, it will get recycled eventually. But here, it's like they just decided "screw it" and built new buildings. Anyways, it really makes for some ugly looking districts.

But once we were out of the city, there was a lot of country-side. Which kind of surprised me. I would have thought in such a crowded nation that there wouldn't be so much country-side. But I guess you have to farm and graze crops somewhere. I guess it's no different from going to New York and finding country-side so close to New York City. It's a totally different mentality compared to the Texas/California suburban sprawl that you get so used to out west.

My first thought on Stonehenge, from the road at least, was that it was a lot smaller than I was expecting. But up close, it looks pretty huge. We toured it (on our own, unassisted by the tour guide) for about an hour, and I took way too much video and too many pictures. I also listened to the accompanying audio tour. But what I really wanted to do was get close to it and just sit. Too bad they don't let you anywhere near it. You just walk around, 10-50 feet outside of the perimeter. Which is pretty cool, anyways, thinking about civilizations that rose and fell thousands of years ago, before the world was anything like it is now. Yet their curiosities and need to understand their role in the universe was the same. We really haven't made a lot of progress in the latter aspect of this. Five thousand years later, we're still asking the same questions. It really puts a perspective on life. So, yeah, it was pretty interesting from a historical/archeological standpoint. I was just bummed that all of the other tourist and rules got in the way.

From there, we drove north to Bath, going through a number of quaint, one-pub villages on the way. Bath was way bigger than I thought it was, and the architecture was amazing, all those rooftops sloping from the valley into the hills. And that was just my impression from the road. We got into Bath around 12:30, parking right outside a really old Abbey, which was right next to the Roman baths. To avoid the after-lunch rush, we went straight to the baths. The baths were pretty cool. The wow factor wasn't as big as Stonehenge, but it left so much more room for imagination and discovery. It was quite an exercise trying to piece together what the baths might have looked like in their hey-day. The engineering was also way cool. It's hard to imagine people back then being so advanced. I also liked reading about all of the different structures that have been built on top of the baths throughout the ages. What would have made things perfect, though, would have been to actually take a bath there. Oh well.

I ate at a small fish-n-chips place that the tour guide recommended. It wasn't as cool as I'd been hoping. I liked fish-n-chips a lot better in Australia. Maybe I just went to the wrong places here in England. After lunch, I walked around for a little while. Bath is very much a tourist town. There were tons of tourist walking through the main downtown area, and there were tons of shops. The downtown area itself was really designed for pedestrians. There aren't a lot of roads, just walk-ways. Which makes sense for a tourist town. At about 3:00, some of us met the tour guide, and he took us around the city. I'm glad I did that, because he pointed out some cool architecture. Bath was originally built as sort of a retirement place for the rich, and the main architects were a father-son pair. And of course, there was a bit of a rivalry between them. Fantastic architects if you ask me. And our tour guide had a lot of useful facts about the way life would have been around here as the city was being built.

After that, we headed back to London. This was more like a two hour trip this time. I guess it was a bad time for traffic. They dropped us off at Victoria Coach Station again, and I headed immediately to the Royal British Museum. There, I had about an hour and a half to check out things like the Rosetta Stone and the Elgin Marbles. Who'd have thought that such a plain and simple stone could pave the way for us understanding such ancient civilizations? There were lots of Egyptian and Assyrian statues/artifacts as well. It was a great museum, and they even let you take flash photography (I don't understand that). I really wish I had had more time there, but I did get some great pictures.

After that closed, around 8:00, I headed back to Paddington. I ate dinner at this Italian Pizzeria near the hotel. All I can say is it sucked. Either the British have no idea how to make pizza and how to create a salad bar, or I just ate at the wrong place. And then I came home. I packed while I watched TV, and now it's bedtime. I've got an early day tomorrow.

Posted 10:26 PM | Comments (1)

Day 8: Welcome to Deustchland

So I woke up around 4:45 AM so I could check out and catch the 5:15 London-Heathrow Express. Except I almost missed it because I couldn't remember what entrance I was supposed to take to get into that part of the station, so I accidentally went down the tube entrance instead, and the connector to the station was locked and if not for some very kind janitor letting me through, I would be stuck in London right now. Anyways, even catching the 5:15 Express (which was the first of the day) was almost not enough to get me to my flight on time. The flight was supposed to depart at 6:30, and by the time I walked all the way up from the station to the check in counter, and made my way through a horrendous line, it was almost time for the flight to leave. So it was a very close call.

One news item I did catch on my way out of the hotel, though. The Spurs kicked the Lakers' butt in game six. That just makes my day. The only thing that could have been better was watching it with Chris and rubbing it in his face. Now, I'm just hoping Dallas can hang on and give us an all-Texas conference final.

The flight itself was pretty uneventful. When I got to Frankfurt, I got lost for a half hour or so, which wasn't fun since I had all my baggage. I was supposed to meet Grandpa at the car rental counter, only the signs led me to the wrong place, and even with everything in English, I soon became very disoriented. But I finally retraced my steps and found Grandpa. We got compact Mercedes—very funky looking. I guess the Europeans dig funky designs or something. Come to thin of it, all of the cars seem much more compact. Certainly they don't share the American SUV/pickup fetish.

My GPS system works great here. I guess the London maps were just messed up. Of course, too bad I don't have a complete map of Germany. The maps will only help when we're in big cities.

For lunch, we stopped at some gas station diner. I had goulash, and grandpa had a wurst. The prices here seem a little more reasonable than London, but still more than I would pay in America. I tried to order my food in German, and that didn't work out too well. I understood most of what the waiter said, but I'm sure my accent is horrible. It's been way too long since I've spoken auf Deutsch.

The scenery on the drive over was great. The landscape here is so different than anything I'm used to. I don't know if it's the trees or the hills or the way everything is so laboriously sculpted into the landscape, as if throughout the centuries of farming and habitation, nature and civilization have become one intermingled entity. On one hand, it seems almost unnatural, or artificial. On the other hand, the land usage is so efficient and clean. I mean, you start to get some of this feeling on America's East Coast, but it's not the same.

We got to Suderwalsede around 3:00 or 4:00 in the afternoon. That was way longer than we were expecting. It was like a perpetual traffic jam all the way from Frankfurt. Plus Grandpa was kind of frustrated with a lack of power in our car's engine. For those who don't know, Suderwalsede is the really small German village where my Grandpa grew up, and we're going to be spending almost all of the trip here. We've talked about going up to Denmark on Monday or Tuesday to do some research into the Nissen ancestry, which comes from there. But other than that, we'll be here the whole time. For those trying to find Suderwalsede on a map, good luck. You might be able to find its sister town, Kirchwalsede, on a mpa, and you probably will find Verden, the closest decent sized town on a map, but as far as the big cities go, it's about 30 miles southeast of Bremen. Which means it's a lot closer to Hamburg, which is where we flew in the first time I came here, but the tickets to Frankfurt were way cheaper.

Immediately when we arrived, Tante Freita (Grandpa's sister), who looks just the same as I remembered her, and whose German is just as difficult to understand, gives us Butterkochen. That's just the way I remember her, always giving us food. Basically, it was tea-time, and they always have some sort of pastry or cookie. Grandpa and Uncle Herman and Freita talked about the trip out here, with a little bit of input from me. I was able to respond to simple questions, like about my going out to London. But Grandpa also had to do a lot of translating. I don't know, I was pretty proud of myself for how much German I understood, considering how long it's been. And I'm sure it'll get better.

After that, Uncle Jurgen (Grandpa's brother) called up and invited us to see them skin the pig that they're going to eat tomorrow for some sort of village-wide party. And also to see them inflate a hot air balloon in a field just down the road. I guess someone paid for a hot air balloon ride. It was a cool thing, watching them inflate the balloon. I got a few pictures and some minutes of video. Very educational. Half the village must have come out, especially the kids. I'm sure they were wondering who the hell I was. And a lot of them were wondering about Grandpa, too. I wonder if they just assumed we were with the balloon people. But the good news is I got a business card from the guy who owns the balloon, so if I ever need a hot air balloon ride in Germany...

After that, we walked Jurgen back home, then came back to Frieta's and Herman's. It was dinner time. Meat and potatoes and asparagus. Man, it was good asparagus, marinated in some sort of butter concoction, I guess. They grow a lot of it, so it's understandable that they'd get good at preparing it. They're daughter and son-in-law and granddaughter (so I guess she would be my second-cousin or something) came over for it as well, and they seemed to be easier to understand as far as German goes, which I guess is the result of the gradual urbanization of the country—my great-aunt grew up in the country, so she's got a thick dialect, but her children grew up in a much more urbanized culture. Her daughter and granddaughter both actually spoke to me in English a couple of times, which was somewhat funny but also somewhat good.

So this is just a random thought, but you know who Freita reminds me of—on looks as well as personality and even somewhat her voice? The mother from "All in the Family."

I had actually started feeling a little sick last night. Mostly a headache and sore throat. Maybe it's jet lag or lack of sleep. Or maybe it's SARS :). Just kidding, of course. But at any rate, I'm going to sleep pretty early. As is Grandpa, who is definitely jet-lagged. It's like only 8:00 or so. We're sleeping upstairs in the guest bedroom, where they have a king size bed. So yes I have to share a bed with Grandpa, which is kind of weird, but at least it's huge. The room itself is just as I remember it from last time, whe Chris and I stayed in it. Except I can't remember if grandpa stayed in there too, or if he stayed somewhere else. But actually, the entire house is just as I remember it. Or at least, as I remembered it as soon as being there refreshed my memory. Furniture in the same places. Same smells and stuff. But anyways, good night.

Posted 02:38 AM | Comments (1)

London Pictures & Video

Karl at Piccadilly Circus

Here's the long-awaited pictures and videos of my trip to London. Westminster Abbey. Old Ben. The Thames. St. Paul's. The Globe. Stonehenge. Bath. British Royal Museum. And a lot of me. Just something you should be aware of--when you go to London alone, it's very hard to get a decent picture of yourself. You have to do a lot of manuevering with the camera.

• Pictures
• Videos
• London Day 1 - Westminster, Hyde Park, Paddington (22:59)
• London Day 2 - St. Paul's, Westminster, Thames, The Globe (39:34)
• London Day 3 - Stonehenge, Bath, British Museum (30:14)

Posted 08:42 PM | Comments (1)

Day 13: The Long Road Home

I've just finished the longest stint of continuous travel I've ever been on in my life. I mean, if you add it up, I've been in transit for more than a day. First there was the car ride to Bremen, for which we left about 10:00 PM or so. Frieta's daughter and her husband and Grandpa went with me. They apparently know the road to Bremen a lot better than Grandpa, which after Monday's visit, I'm willing to believe. We got to the station plenty early, so we all had cups of hot chocolate. And then we waited around for the train for forever. It was about half an hour late. And it was cold and rainy outside as we waited on the platform. Once the train arrived, about 12:30, I got on board. It wasn't your normal train as far as seating goes. There were booths for first class customers, and then there were very spacious seats for everyone else in the middle of the car. Even so, I wasn't able to find a really comfortable seat for sleeping. So I sat down with my laptop and played Civ3 until the batteries died. By then, there was a row of seats clear, so I decided to go to sleep. This was probably about 2:30 or so. Somewhere in between this all, a guy came to me and started begging in German. I pretended to be a dumb American which really frustrated him, especially when I pretended not to know what he meant by "Euuurrrooo." If only getting rid of beggars were always this easy.

A funny thing happened the next time I woke up. It was about 5:45 and I was waking from some really deep REM sleep. I was just plain old out of it. And I notice its daylight outside and that there's a sign that reads "Mainz." For some reason, in my tired mind, this equated to Frankfurt am Mainz, so I rushed to pick up my suitcase and get off the train. Only, and some of you already may guess where this is going, it was the city of Mainz. Nothing to do with Frankfurt. And my mind finally straightened this out as the doors closed behind me. The train started moving and I tried to get the conductor to stop and let me back in, but I guess the trains must run on time. So anyways, funny story. Ha ha. I had to go upstairs and get a new ticket on a much less comfortable and speedy train to Frankfurt. And I had to wait around in the cold morning air for about an hour. When the next train finally did come, it was crowded and everyone was smoking and having their morning coffee. Smoking on a crowded public train at 7:00 in the morning! That's just wrong. So it was a good thing I decided to take the midnight train to Frankfurt, even though it would have gotten me there 4 hours early. Because had I accidentally left the other train early, I would have missed my flight.

As it was, I still had plenty of time at the Franfurt airport. The ticket counter didn't open until about 9:00, since American Airline only has two flights out of there anyways. And my flight didn't leave until 10:55. So I tried to get a little more sleep. When I woke up there was a horrendously long line snaking through the terminal for the American ticket counter. So I thought, what the heck. Might as well join them. But to make a long story short, the plane successfully took off with me on it, albeit on a much more crowded flight than the one I took in London. No extra seats for laying out. I had an aisle seat on the right side of the plane, which I suppose is better than most seats, but man I still felt cramped.

I watched a couple of really bizarre movies in my opinion. There's "About Schmidt," which was really long and so totally not the comedy the commercials advertise. It was typical Jack Nicholson, mostly dark and depressing. Good acting, but inevitably tedious. While the movie had a few good moments, I don't think I'd see it again. Then there was George Clooney's "Solaris." I had high hopes for this one too—a sci-fi piece that was more philosophical than sci-fi. But while it was interesting, it was too bizarre. I mean, like 2001 bizarre, but with a much more artificial and fake philosophical dilemma. And I didn't have enough of a stake in the characters, especially George Clooney's, to really care what happened to him. Could have used a lot more character development. In summary, too artificial, too melodramatic, too choppy, too 2001.

And, of course, I played games. For like 11 hours. Because I couldn't fall asleep.

Then we got to DFW. I took a while to get through customs and stuff. But after that, I still had a three hour wait for my 6:11 departure time. So much waiting. I changed my euros back to dollars. Man, that whole process was a rip-off. I probably spent like 15 dollars in transaction fees from dollars to pounds to euros to dollars, yet I only purchased stuff with cash like twice. I met this missionary guy going home from Tenessee, I believe it was. Had a bit of a conversation with him, mostly about the transition to normal life. I asked him about how 9/11 and Iraq and stuff had impacted him on his mission, and man, it was less of an impact than I was expecting. He really was kind of clueless of news and current events for the last two years. I guess that was kind of like me, as well, but there seemed to be much fewer things going on back then. I bought him some food from McDonalds, 'cause he didn't have any cash. It's kind of amazing. It was like nothing to me. An afterthought, really. But to him it was a huge favor. I'm just used to having money, now, I guess.

I checked my voicemail in DFW, as well. Not too many messages. Apparently RJ from the Elder's Quorum didn't know I was going to be gone. I called up Mike about the campout that was supposed to be this weekend, but he's wigging out on it. Something about it being a holiday and too crowded. And I really wanted to go.

Then we finally got on the plane, and as luck would have it, I couldn't sleep the entire flight. Not a very entertaining flight either, as I was tired of reading and playing games and just about anything else you could do while sitting.

Chris and Katie were there to pick me up, albeit pretty late. And I couldn't reach them or anything. They were visiting Sharla, I gather. I told them my flight was going to arrive early—it always does from DFW, but they didn't believe me. Oh well, it's good they were visiting Sharla. I called her up to find out where they were, and I felt guilty because I realized how infrequently I call her up or stop by. But anyways, as soon as we got back to Provo, Chris and I went over to play basketball. I can't believe I did that. I should have been unpacking or sleeping or something. But it was fun, despite the fact played like crap—a combination of the jet-lag and lack of sleep and the endless day of transport and the two weeks of no exercise.

And then I came home, took a shower, and finished up this entry. And now it's time to sleep.

Posted 10:45 PM | Comments (1)

Germany Pictures & Videos

German Landscape

Pictures and videos from the little village of Suderwalsede, Germany, where my Grandpa grew up. So there's tons of pictures of and stories about family that I get to meet like once every ten years or so. Like Tante Freta, who's always feeding me (mmm, yummy) and Uncle Jurgen and lot of other people. Not a lot of touristy pictures, but after London I was tired of the tourist thing anyways. A nice relaxing vacation.

• Pictures
• Videos
• Germany Day 1 (14:08)
• Germany Day 2 (44:19)
• Germany Day 3 (4:28)
• Germany Day 4 (5:37)
• Germany Day 5 (22:11)

Posted 11:54 PM | Comments (1)

Life Since Europe

Okay, it's been a while. I guess I needed a vacation from my journal or something. So what's been going on? Not much, I guess.

I've been playing a lot of Ultimate, both for City League and Intramurals. We got our butts kicked the first game after I got back. Well, actually it wasn't too bad. It was against Ring of Fire (Don Wickern, Brady, Jeff, Chip, Woo, and company). They were minus Chip and Brady, so we kept close up until the end when we just sort of tapered off. The problem with our team is there are too many of us, so it's hard to get in a groove. Especially when our younger and energetic people get out there, but their inexperience shines through. Anyways, we had an intramural game Tuesday night, which our opponents forfeited. So we just played pickup, but it was some good pickup. Don Wickern and I like had this psychic connection all game. Then last Thursday, we played a really awesome game in City League vs. REC, who I guess aren't that good so it's no big deal, except for the fact that it was a real breakthrough as far as teamwork goes. Fell a little behind early, then stormed through the rest of the game. Everybody was making some really smart passes, including a lot of dumps, and with Jon not there I became basically the main handler. So anyways, it was fun. Then finally, Today, we played an afternoon intramural game against OPA. At first, I was thinking this was going to be an easy game, especially when they showed up with one girl and just five guys. But it ended up being tough. Man, I didn't know that there could be any tougher teams than the ones Don Clark put together. Why aren't these guys playing for the BYU team? Well, actually, a lot of it has to do with the fact that only a few of them are bonafide Frisbee players, and the rest of them can catch well, have hops, and can outrun all of us. So at first, we played them a man-down, to be fair. But then we started losing, and we put in our extra girl, and we finally started catching up. We just barely won. And man, it was a hot day. The turf was just absorbing the heat like a sponge. Anyway, we really need to get our act together if we want to win that championship. This was our last regular season game, and playoffs start soon. I want an "Intramural Champions" shirt really bad.

Other than that, I guess the only other thing going on right now is the NBA Playoffs. I haven't done too much dating since Europe. Well, not any at all. Just group activities, really. And many of the group activities are revolving around the playoffs. Patrick Marx is moving out today. He's going to move up to Salt Lake to be closer to work. Mike Davis will be moving in. That'll be fun. It'll be easier to get parties going with all the party throwers in one central place. Too bad Mark's gone for the summer. I've been reorganizing the basement. I've decided to move my projector out there, since I watch way too much TV, and having a TV out of my room can only help matters. Plus, it'll be better for group parties. We're moving Marshall's desk to the north side of the room, and putting a screen up where Marshall's desk used to be. We're putting the projector in the little indention where the chimney is upstairs. And then we're utilizing the rest of the space for a pool table and fusball table. It's gonna be the bomb. I hope Mark doesn't mind losing his band practice facility.

Jonathon just announced he will be moving. Something about needing to go home to help his family for the summer, and then the military. Part of me is kind of sad about this, but another part of me is looking forward to a much cleaner house. Jonathon really reminds me of dad when it comes to piles and projects and never throwing away things.

Here's something random: the first Sunday I came back, Oertel walks up to me and asks me to sing in the choir. I protest I don't know the song, but she says it's the same one we've been practicing. This kind of surprises me since I thought they were supposed to do it on Mother's Day. Well, funny thing is I get on stage and as the meeting starts I realize that none of our Bishopric is on stage. Seems they were released on Mother's Day, and rather hastily. They hadn't been in there for that long. This is too bad. I really liked Bishop Ingersoll. Someone told me he wanted asked to be released. I guess I'm not too surprised. But I just like the fact that he was so down to Earth. And I'm gonna miss Brother Thomas and and Brother Bramwell as well. There's also rumors that the ward will be splitting. This is kind of making me sad. I'm thinking that at very least, it'll mean the Thomases and Erika and Andy (who I'm just now getting to know—great guy, should have gotten to know him sooner) will be out of our ward (oh, while we're on the Thomases, Erin's sister Megan just moved in. She is way cute, has a lot of the same qualities that I like in Erin, and the only two things that are keeping me away are Erin and the fact that she's 19). But I'm also hoping we won't lose Kristen and Shanta and Melinda and them. Time will tell, I guess.

But anyways, the NBA playoffs rock. The Spurs definitely let the Mavs get too close, but it was an entertaining series nonetheless. 6 games. Steve Kerr in game 6 was absolutely amazing. I don't think I'll ever forget the threes he put up. Four of them in a row in the fourth quarter. Absolutely iced the Mavs. Plus his defense and hustle was amazing. Now that's leadership by example. If he didn't get in there and stop things, I honestly think the Spurs would have lost the series. I get goose bumps all over thinking about his performance.

Oh, and I got a PDA mount for my car. It's a wicked cool concept. I like driving around with my maps and music and stuff, but the mount sucks. And I can't plug the radio adapter into it when my GPS unit is in the CF slot. That's a poor design decision. I bought it from Arkon, and I'm thinking I may send it back and get another one. We'll see how it goes.

Anyways, that's enough for me. Adios.

Posted 11:09 PM | Comments (1)