Another Sydneyism

Today on the way down to the Payson Pool, Ethan and Sydney were having a little discussion about what they wanted to be for halloween. At one point I distinctly heard Sydney say "Well, I am NOT going to be a poundpire for halloween, they are TOO scary!"

I am not sure what a poundpire is. Maybe it is the guy that guards the dog pound? Or.... nope, that is the only thing it could possibly be.

In other news, I have been involved in this play called "Bells are Ringing." It's a play about a mobster who is trying to get money from this dude. Ok, it isn't about that really, that's just a small part of it. But along with doing lights and sound, I play the mobster, so obviously, it's the only part that matters. I am having some fun with it. I get to use my vast acting experience to deliver lines like: "Is Sandor around?" and "shut up." Oh and my favorite line: "shut up!" Fun times.

Have you ever started something and then got tired of it halfway through and just de

Pitter Patter

This stream of consciousness is going to work out!  I just know it.  I am pretty dang sure that I can sit down to this computer and just type, and no matter what I type it will be awesome!!

Ok, now I am out of ideas.  Oh!  How about another poem?

Pitter-patter little mouse
sneaking all around my house
Fae caught you once inside her closet
While she made a shirt deposit

Pitter-patter little mouse
Fae doesn't want you near her blouse!
so I sent Ethan for my broom
(I keep it in the other room)

My eyes stayed fast upon your spot
A way to pass me filled your thoughts!
Oh where's the broom!  Hey look! It's here!
and then you knew the end was near.

The curtains closing, things looked bleak.
Your chances slim, your position weak.
And just when things were at their worst
When with fear you thought you'd burst
a tiny flash of hope and chance
told you that you might pass Lance
without being hit by my large broom
maybe you could skip your doom.

So up you sprang!
Out toward the door!
My broom, I swang
down toward the floor!

I did not get you on that day
You jumped and zagged and got away

But heed my words, for this I swear
If I see your mousy hair
Even though It cause me strain
I'll whack you hard right on your brain!

Frantically patient, softly furious.

 I guess what I am saying is:

I really do need oxygen, I just don't need it pumped into my lungs for me. You feel me, frog?

In quiet times I like to find a dim corner.  I slowly raise a plastic colander to wear as a hat on my head. Then I sing sweetly until forest animals begin to gather near me with soft looks of curious wonder.  When all of the stresses of life have settled and I am at one with nature, I pull out my air-horn..

Listen, I haven't written in this blog for awhile.  I don't know why.  I can't remember how to write stuff.  I sit down at the computer, and all that comes out is.... RELEASE THE HARPSICHORD QUEEN!!!!

Poetry is the wind from which we seek to establish the foundation of our base upon.  All writers of every genre seek that magical moment when a string of letters forms into words, and those words form into word-strings, and those word-strings form into word-string-clusters.  That's where the magic really happens!

You know what the real problem with blogging is?  You can't do a clip-show when you don't feel like recording a full episode!!  That would be cool.  Well, for the author, not for the reader.

I could be like:  2009 was really full of fascinating fine literature.  We all remember the moment when the Sadbot....

I won't though.  Although, now that I think of it, I really should write a Sadquel.  I know that everyone has been pining for more about that big metal heartless cutey-pie!!

Ok, well my pen is out of ink..

Hippo Man

I have been trying really hard lately to lose weight.  I mean, I have done everything under the sun.  I have walked up and down the stairs a few times, I have done sit-ups (well, I did ONE sit up, to reach the remote.)  I have also cried a lot about how fat I am, shouldn't that count for something?

Why can't the weight just lose itself?  I just don't think I should be responsible for every little....  Hold on a sec, I just got a hankerin' for a ham sandwich.

Ok, I'm back.  I haven't written a poem for awhile, so here is one that has been passed down through generations and generations... and then thrown away, but I snagged it out of the garbage:

Harold
-------------------
Harold was a lonely old man
and a sorry old man was he,
In winter winds through thick and thin
he ate til half past three.

This was a practice set in stone
and never would he budge,
But did this practice served him well?
I'll let you be the judge.

For on one blustery winter night
a stranger came to call,
But hunger forced that sad old man
to pay no mind at all.

The stranger, in a heated rage
set fire upon the spot
and turned and left the dumpy house
to turn from cold to hot.

If Harold felt the fire's sting
we'll prob'ly never know
for Harold sat and ate his food,
he loved his dinner so!

The point which I am making here
is one of loud forewarning,
if you eat too much at night,
you'll be sorry in the morning!

Life is like a roller coaster. It seems really scary until you summon up the courage to try it.  You have to really dig down deep, trusting that the experience could actually be fun once you get the hang of it.  And then, as you hear the last few clicks of the coaster car reaching the top of the first hill, and feel the awesome power of gravity as it begins to pull that car back to earth; It is at that moment that you realize what a horribly terrible mistake you have made.

No, it isn't your fault.  How could you have known?  I mean, yes, you read that brochure that another angel handed you describing the difficulties and seriousness of gaining a body.  But there isn't any way you could actually know what it was going to be like.  And just like the roller coaster, once you are on it, there is really only one way to get off early, and it isn't pleasant!

Now this may sound dismal and depressing, and it is.  But guess what!  There is a silver cloud to every lining.  And the silver here is: Silver!  What if you find a nickel on the roller coaster?  That would be pretty cool!

Let the lesson be this, lads and ladies: The less information in the brochure, the more questions you should be asking about the ride.

I wear a helmet, I wield a shovel.

Don't think of me as a hero. Just know that I am one, and that I am awesome. My staggering amount of moxie and class doesn't necessarily fall in with the actual feel and point of this post, I just think that it is something we should all be aware of. I am truly a beacon of truth-piercing hope wrapped in a milk chocolate cocoon of spectacular superness. There, I said it.

I may not be some jet-setting thousandaire, but when it comes to having an opinion about things, I really bring home the back-fat. I guess you could say that I am bringing back-fat back. Eat that JT.

I am reminded of a time when a telephone was just a telephone, and people weren't able to tell who you were if you prank-called them. But the caller-id ruined all of that. I think that technology in all of its greatness brings its own baggage with it. Fortunately, that baggage is a techy bag of wonders, oozing convenience and happiness. Technology is 150% super-radical, and has been proven to positively effect every single entity that is fortunate enough to be graced by its techy yumness.

If you are concerned by the stupidness of this post, I would like to take the opportunity to remind you that all of my posts are stupid. (except the last one about my grandma, she is pretty awesome)

The end

Grandma Whitaker

Arloa Orwin Whitaker St. George, UT Arloa Orwin Whitaker passed away on Monday, September 7, 2009 in St. George, Utah at the Dixie Regional Medical Center.Arloa was born on May 6, 1927 in Long Beach, CA. She was raised in Brigham City, Utah by Sadie and Will Barnard and graduated from Box Elder High School in 1945. Arloa was noticed by Darwin while she was walking down Main Street in Brigham City after his return from military service in the Pacific. She and Darwin began dating while she attended Brigham Young University and Darwin attended the University of Utah. They were married in the Logan, Utah Temple on March 21, 1947. After Darwin's graduation from the University of Utah, his profession took their young family from Utah, to Idaho, to Colorado, to Texas and back to Utah, where Darwin later retired. Retirement was short lived as Arloa and Darwin were called to serve a full time mission in the Singapore Asia Mission from 1989 to 1991. Arloa and Darwin moved to St. George, Utah in 1993. She loved her days in St. George with her many dear friends at Meadow Creek Senior Community. Arloa was an active member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Later-day Saints and served in many callings and capacities. She is and was known for her unwavering compassion and care of all those she knew and served. Her life was a life of service to others. Arloa loved the outdoors and enjoyed spending many happy hours at the family's cabin east of Park City, Utah. She loved the family reunions held at the cabin and the time spent with her grandchildren and great grandchildren doing crafts and watching the deer and hummingbirds. It was a little bit of heaven on earth to her. Arloa is survived by her husband of 62 years and five children: Suzan (Dr. Gary Strobel, Bozeman, MT), Barry (Beth Whitaker, Spanish Fork, UT), Lee Ann (Richard Starnes, Highland, UT), Brian (Becky Whitaker, Las Vegas, NV) and Brent (Marisa Whitaker, Rancho Santa Margarita, CA). She leaves behind 18 grandchildren, 19 great-grandchildren, her beloved sister, Sue Zundel, of Fallbrook, CA, and a legacy that will not be forgotten. The Whitaker Family would like to express their appreciation to all those who provided care and support to Arloa at the Dixie Regional Medical Center and Red Cliffs' Care and Rehabilitation Center. Your kindness did not pass without notice. Funeral services will be held Friday, September 11, 2009 at 11:00 a.m. at the Foremaster Drive LDS Chapel, 1740 E. Foremaster Drive, St. George, UT. Visitations will be held Thursday, September 10th from 6:00 to 7:30 p.m. at Metcalf Mortuary, 288 W. St. George Blvd., St. George, UT and on Friday from 9:30 to 10:30 a.m. at the chapel, prior to services. A short graveside service will be held Saturday, September 12, 2009 at 10:00 a.m. at the Brigham City Cemetery, Brigham City, UT. Arrangements entrusted to Metcalf Mortuary, 435-673-4221.