Movie Critique: Upon finishing the movie The Visitor with my family last night, my dad (who missed the first half) volunteered his opinion first:
“Well that was a stupid movie.”
Observation: Our young are not so very different from the young of the rest of the animal kingdom. Young animals engage in aggressive play fighting with their siblings and parents to learn necessary survival skills. We are doing the exact same thing with Caleb. I assure you, if he is ever attacked in a dark alley by a gang of pillow-wielding thugs, he is going to clean house. I haven’t been counting, but I’m guessing we’re on something like round 37.
Observation: It doesn’t matter how much you THINK someone loves you, no one loves you enough to be in a ward choir. I sent out an email yesterday BEGGING people to show up to choir practice this morning before church. You see, we had to sing today, and since no one showed up to practice last week, and the week before that had been our first practice on this song, we desperately need participation today. So, certain that people would finally see the dire straits I was in, and since it IS after all the season of giving and compassion, I was confident that THIS practice would be a success.
Well I showed up to find about three girls and a guy, so I scoured the building for recruits. There were four more people in the chapel who were just sitting there 45 minutes before church started doing absolutely NOTHING. I explained the situation and they were all like “I’m not good at singing,” and “I heard the choir is really difficult.” WHAT? We only sing HYMNS! Even if I WANTED to make things difficult, I don’t have any cool arrangements to make that happen. So finally I hauled them all over to practice, even though one girl that I graduated high school with whose mother is even MUSIC FACULTY on campus ROLLED HER EYES at me in disgust. So as time went on, people were slowly showing up, and we had to keep going over things that we’d just gone over, and then we only had 5 minutes left of practice because church was going to start. And suddenly this group of guys comes in that just got out of some meeting and they didn’t know what was going on. So I finally had to say, “Okay, forget this stuff we were working on. All girls sing melody. All men sing bass.” And then we ran the whole thing once and went to sacrament meeting.
It actually worked out fine considering the circumstances, and in the end we had a pretty good group up there. We sang “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day” and they sang the third verse in a minor key because it’s depressing. So maybe they really DO love me, just in a really begrudging way.
Epiphany: It was announced that my branch president, President Palmer, is going to be released. President Palmer is one of those people who is so incredibly positive all the time that it’s hard to know if he’s sincere or not. It took me awhile to trust him, and even though I eventually did, I still never warmed up to him the way he did to me. I talked to him about some really difficult things in my life. You know, different religious views and doubts and things, as well as my psychological crap. I always felt ashamed talking to him and was certain that he would look down on me, especially since we both teach at BYU-I and I’m supposed to be on this high level or whatever, but he never did. He always tried to understand. He always called me his colleague and talked me up and told me to call him sometime so we could go to lunch. He even dared ask me to speak in sacrament meeting in the midst of all this stuff I was going through. I almost didn’t accept, but my talk on charity turned out to be one of the best things that happened to me this year. Though I always thanked him verbally, I always kept my distance a little because of my unsettledness with the church, and I never felt like I really got to show him the appreciation I’ve felt. Well now he’s being released. I went up to him after church and tried to give him a final thank you, but I can’t help but feel like I’ve let something slip by.
It’s easy to take relationships for granted. I’m realizing that I don’t recognize what I have until it’s gone. I need to learn to recognize what I have while I still HAVE it. I haven’t had enough empathy to really appreciate the effort and selflessness and love people are expressing when they reach out to me. I mean, when someone reaches out to you, that’s a BIG DEAL. Someone cares enough about you to go out of their way to make your life a priority in their life. It’s NOT a small thing, but sometimes I treat it that way. Anyway, I hope to look for more ways to get the most out of the relationships that I have and quit shutting out people who care about me.
Medical Fact: Bingeing on bean soup and ginger ale right before bed WILL make you explode. There are some disasters even Bean-o can’t stop.
What?: I just watched Charlotte’s Web for the first time in like 15 years probably. The last line of the movie is, “It’s not often that someone comes along who is a true friend, AND a good writer. Charlotte was both.” What? I think we should adapt that line for the endings of all movies. Aladdin: “It’s not often that someone comes along who is a true friend, AND a genie.” Lost Skeleton of Cadavera: “... a true friend, AND an alien.” Goonies: “...a true friend, AND a chunk. Chunk was both.” Jac Attack VI: World Domination: “...a true friend, AND a writer, AND a burper, AND a swimmer, AND a fashion designer, AND a hobbler, AND a girl. Jacqueline was all seven.”
Observation: Charlotte was sporting your same bowl cut from back in the day. You don’t have any recollection of being born from an egg sack in a barn, do you? 513 identical siblings? Eating flies on a regular basis? Not ringing any bells?
Notification: My three and a half year-old nephew Caleb has officially changed the name of Egg Nog to Nog Negg.
WARNING: Caleb could out-fart a grown man.
Friday, Dec 19, 2008
Vindication: This morning I read the following paragraph on my sister’s blog:
“Then I had my very first pedicure (the Happy Nails lady was shocked!) The pedicure was very fun, though I felt a little weird (guilty?) having a nice Filipino lady pamper my feet while I sat in a thronelike chair...I think P. postcolonialist studies are getting to me. She actually completely exfoliated my feet and legs, gave them a clay mask, and wrapped them in hot towels. I don't know whether my feet were worth all the trouble (I think my face would have done me more good) but it was fun! And I like having cute toes for once.”
I think you’ve been using the word correctly this whole time. I am the one who has been exfoliating ignorance all over the place. And to think that all this time I’ve been blaming Nate for my filthy apartment...
Thursday, Dec 18, 2008
Observation: I happened upon the fish tanks at Wal-mart and decided to take the opportunity to greet the families of the late Hanz and Franz. Actually what initially caught my eye was the large signs taped to several of the tanks exclaiming “AGGRESSIVE", and I wondered if Wal-mart had really taken the time to get to know these fish. What if there was some unfortunate fish in there who had grown up on the wrong side of the pier without knowing his parents and, because of his size and speed, had reluctantly become a prize fighter just to put food on the shell and pay the rent when what he enjoyed most was gazing at the coral and writing music and poetry. And then Wal-mart swindled him in a bad deal, and when he couldn’t pay up, it sent over its boys to “help remedy the situation.” And now he’s imprisoned in Rexburg, Idaho with a roommate (2 m’s) named Crusher, forced to wear a sign that says “AGGRESSIVE”, waiting to be bought and tortured by some 13 year-old boy who really should be forced to wear a sign that says “AGGRESSIVE”.
And then I thought of the 26 cent (GAAA!!! I just spent like an hour trying to figure out how to insert a cent symbol on Mac's Pages, but I’m pretty sure I don’t have some of the features the help menu says I’m supposed to have. I wonder if this has anything to do with the fact that I’m also pretty sure I accidently bought an illegal copy of Pages off eBay.)... ANYWAY, and then I thought of the $.26 (GRRRR) Common Goldfish and wondered what it would feel like to be a $.26 fish swimming in the same tank with a bunch of of $3.57 or $4.80 fish that are APPARENTLY uncommon. And then I realized that I’ve felt like that on several occasions, including during this whole graduate school thing.
And then I remembered I needed to continue wandering the aisles and fretting over what to buy my 5 month-old niece who probably wouldn’t know the difference between getting an exotic misunderstood aggressive fish for Christmas or a Winnie the Pooh Beanie Baby.
Mistake: I was feeling depressed, so I reluctantly went to the school to practice. As I was sitting in my office looking for reasons not to practice, I remembered I needed to write an email to one of my ear training classes about how the class schedule got messed up. I didn’t really want to do that either, but as I got going, my depression started turning into recklessness and sarcasm, and my recklessness and sarcasm started turning into words, and before I knew it I had hit “send” to 20 students I will teach next semester, and then I realized what I’d done...
The email reads as follows:
(Title) “You should really read this email. No really, I'm serious...”
Dear Future Pupils,
This is your future ear training teacher Bro. Scrivner and I'm writing to wish you a very Merry Christmas AND leave you with a very important message about how your ear training class got screwed up! Hooray!
Here's the low down. Because of some scheduling problems next semester, only TWO classroom hours each week were scheduled for the Ear Training 1 and 2 courses instead of FOUR. For our class, that means you will only be meeting with me on Tuesdays and Thursdays from 9:00-10:00.
"But Bro. Scrivner, how shall I ever succeed as a musician on only HALF the ear training classroom time each week?! You've ruined my LIFE!!!"
There, there, little one. All will be made well. The solution? You will be meeting in groups of six for an ADDITIONAL two hours each week OUTSIDE of class with an amazing mentor. That gives you a total of (um... 2+2=) FOUR hours with a teacher each week. Attendance for these two additional hours will be treated exactly the same as regular classroom attendance. In other words, you have to go. And you have to be on time. MWAH HA HA HAAAAAA!!!
"But Bro. Scrivner, this is too good to be true!"
*Hearty chuckle* Yes, I know! But it IS! I mean, it ISN'T... I mean it's TRUE, and GOOD, but it's not TOO GOOD to be true... because it's DEFINITELY good... AND true... but not TOO good... for the truth, that is... yeah.... huh...?
Anyway, the class will be divided into four groups of about six students. Two groups will be meeting with Jeremy Johnson and two groups will be meeting with Natascia May. They will be figuring out their schedules over the break and sending me the hours that they will be availabe.
***YOUR MISSION***: Be on the lookout for ANOTHER email from me (joy!) in a couple of weeks that will specify the meeting times of these four groups. These times will probably have to take place sometime in late afternoon/evening hours so as to avoid conflicts with other classes. You will need to make one of these four groups work into your schedule. Then you will email me and tell me what you've decided. The goal is to have this all worked out BEFORE the first day of class. Those of you with a job next semester may want to give your boss the heads-up that you might have an evening class.
So there you have it. Clear as mud? I wouldn't worry, I'm sure it will be a big mess.
Merry Christmas!
Bro. Scrivner
P.S. Try saying "future pupils" 10 times fast. I tried it and I kept saying "future poopils". And I laughed.
Wish: I wish I could believe in God as easily as everyone around me. I hate that it’s hard for me. I wish I could go back to before I started asking questions and daring to consider thoughts that I had never before dared to consider, back to when everything was so clear and easy to understand. Even if God doesn’t exist, I wish I could go through life not knowing that. Even if we do just turn to dust, I wish I could die with the utmost assurance that I was headed back to see my family. I wish I had that hope, be it true or false, as strongly as I once had it. Yes, I would choose bliss and ignorance. I wish there was a reset button on my head that would clear out all those disturbing thoughts. I think it would be easier for me to be happy then.
