What's So Lucky About Them?

We had a pot luck Tuesday at work. I brought in some chicken chili, the only thing I ever take to any event involving prepared food. Why? Because I have a crock pot and the recipe involves 5 or 6 cans or jars of various things, some shredded cheese which I hand-shredded, and a teaspoon of something called "cumin". I looked up "cumin" on the internet and it is defined as "something you put in chicken chili". The hardest thing about this creation was remembering to dump it all together in time for it to crockulate overnight, which I did (remembered) at 11:30 the night prior, approximately 14 seconds before I nodded off to sleep. There's nothing quite like being comfortably settled into bed, finally getting warm, fading gently into blackness, then realizing you have to get up and go downstairs and crank open 3 cans of great northern beans. And it's a good thing there's nothing quite like that, because that thing would suck.

Our pot luck at work was so successful we put all the leftovers in the break room fridge, and reheated them today for another one! Which made me wonder... Why do people prepare so much food for pot lucks? If 20 people are slotted to bring something - and everyone who attends has to bring something - and if all 20 people make/buy enough food for like 5-10 people, then you have either a) food for 100-200 people; or b) 5-10 servings of food for 20 people. No wonder we did it all over again.

My favorite memories of pot lucks come from church when I was young. Several times a year a pot luck would be announced to celebrate some event or another; a church milestone, a sending-off of a missionary or pastor, maybe a softball league championship? The thing is, I can't really remember why most were held, I just remember the thrill of walking into the multi-purpose room, greeted by the sights and smells of so many various pots of meats and potatoes and gravies and indecipherable casseroles.

A good pot luck always had these items (from these people):
- 2 pepperoni pizzas from local chain (forgot about pot luck until en route to church)
- Bucket of KFC (didn't necessarily forget, but a dad was in charge)
- Green bean casserole with soggy fried onions on top (mother who thinks having greens is important)
- Someone's homemade fried chicken which lasted way longer than the KFC bucket (thinks they're a good cook and resents fast-food addicts)
- Cocktail wieners! (single mom who loves America)
- 2-pound bucket of store bought potato salad (didn't necessarily forget, but definitely can't cook)
- Au gratin potatoes which are so hot they burn your tongue and then you can't even taste the KFC (my mom)

And I haven't even gotten to the dessert table!

Pot lucks at church had several other attractions to me, like danger and sports. The multi-purpose room was carpeted but had basketball hoops (a rug burn lover's paradise), and there was always a group of us trying to get some shots in before the tables were all set. One of the more assertive mothers would always insist we "put those away before they knock something over", but we'd push it until something was knocked over, or until the larger, even more assertive father would just go ahead and grab the basketballs and say "Come on you guys!" in that midwesterny way.

Look, nothing says community like a dozen crock pots and a bowl of punch, so let's beat this topic up a bit! What else is a favorite or must-have item at a pot luck? Comment below or at Facebook.

Bloggers block, and my dream work scenario

This is a blog. How can I go weeks or months without feeling like I have "anything to blog about"? I am alive, I have a family, I have a job, I have more and more nose hairs which protrude beyond the nasal opening, and must be trimmed! So really, no shortage of material.

I spend 9 hours of most weekdays at an office building. I sleep about 8-9 hours a night, thanks to my wife's awesome sleeping habits (seriously, life changing). So that leaves 6-7 hours to do other things like work out, play with the kids, taunt the cat, watch sporting events on TV, trim nose hair, etc... But that 9 hours at work may be the problem. Work takes up more than half my waking hours, yet I do not like blogging about it. There are too many things about having a corporate job that an outsider wouldn't understand, and that I don't want to risk talking about in a public forum. A public consisting of about 11 people spread around the country, but a forum nonetheless. Or maybe I'm only inspired to blog about it while I'm at work, which then creates a scenario where my creative ambitions could usurp my jobly duties; which, in turn, could cause termination of the job. 

To steal a gimmick from Dave Barry, "Jobly Duties" could make a great band name.

In all the meetings, conference calls, and seminars I've had the pleasure of leading or attending (no sarcasm there at all), I've been waiting for one moment--one particular opportunity--to let my true abilities shine. The transaction would happen during one of those meet and greet sessions, where everyone toots their own horn by saying how long they've "been in the biz", and it would go something like this:

Me:  "Hi, I'm Steve, the Assistant Brand Manager for the brand. I've been here..." blah blah blah "...after which, I developed a true passion for..." blah blah blah "...this one time, in band camp..." blah blah blah "...really happy to be here. And how about this weather, huh? Huh?"

Before I continue my dream sequence, let's consider why every single person in the history of any business conversation, new friend introduction, or family reunion simply MUST talk about the weather. Why do we do this? One's location in relation to the other makes no difference at all. You could have resided on the same street for 20 years, never vacationed, and stepped out of your house only to say to your neighbor, "Man, can you believe this very typical sunshine?", and they would reply, "I know, RIGHT?" This happens 40 times a day in the average office building, with people in one state acting like the weather in any other state is, like, totally wild.

Anyway, back to my sequence. I've just humbly introduced myself.

Interested Party: "Steve, as the Associate Brand Manager, how do you..."

Me: "Ahem, ummm...OH, you know, I was just going to say I'm just the 'Assistant' Brand Manager, not what you said, which was 'Associate'."

Interested Party: "Riiiight. Anyway, in your role, how can you impact the average sales of..."

--Here's where I interrupt again and turn a normal, droll business meeting into a real LOL moment--

Me: "I mean, and either way--associate or assistant--my title starts with 'A-S-S', so... Right?"

Everyone in the room: 

Well, there you have it. An insight into my professional success, and personal joy. Work is work, and I'd rather write about make-up stories that prove my immaturity than about actual workish work things. Or the weather, apparently. Except when it's SUPER hot for like 5 straight days, which it has been lately here in Utah. Seriously, it was like 103 the other day, in late August. CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?

It's Thursday, yet it's the weekend

This week, my company "let" us work four 10-hr days, and take Friday off. It's the 2nd time they've done it, but I was on vacation the last time. So this week, I woke up at my normal time every morning, but instead of hitting snooze 18 times, I got up, stood in half-slumber in the kitchen while the coffee brewed, then either plugged in the laptop at home or headed to work for some early meetings. A few late evenings and working around the kids' after school activities, and I'm done on a Thursday night! All in all, probably worth it for an extra day off, but not something I'd love to do every week.

On Wednesday, I attended a lovely breakfast reception for the Utah chapter of Operation Smile, an organization with whom my company has recently partnered. Due to the early start (7:30 am), I did not brew my home coffee as usual but instead thought, "I'll just get the coffee there!"

[quiet inner voice] Well, the meeting is at the "Joseph Smith Memorial Building". Don't the Mormons reject coffee and most caffeinated products?
[louder inner voice] Yes, but this is not a church-related event. It's an opportunity for non-profits and corporations to come together and celebrate in perfect harmony! With coffee!

Needless to say, the event provided any breakfast lover's best choices (eggs benny, potatoes, fruit, pastries, juices) but NO java. My inner voices combined to drown out any and all speakers or musicians (Osmond, of course), repeating, "What? Really? Is that a carafe over there? How do I get coffee? Where am I going to get coffee? When is this over? Is there a coffee shop within 1 block of my location? Is that a headache I'm getting? Is this some cruel joke, orchestrated just for me to sit in disbelief and confusion? How do I get coffee?"

The potatoes helped shake me out of my funk, and I listened as my company's CEO told the cookie story and introduced our partnership. It really was a tremendous event. The local community is perfectly built for the Operation Smile charity: educated and well respected dentists and plastic surgeons, a strong volunteer base, and people comfortable with travelling globally (missionary influence). It's no wonder they are one of the strongest chapters of the global charity. The partnership has given our employees a shot in the arm, too, after a pretty morale-crushing past 12 months. We raised over $17,000 through employee fundraisers and vendor donations, and are building programs for our product lines to start contributing, too.

After a pretty packed week, I'm diggin' my day off tomorrow. Annie, being the really hard worker of the family, will be working and the kids are at Grandma's, so it's another day of freedom for me. I'm praying no major home emergencies arise between now and then, like the ceiling fan detaching and flying through the slider and killing a neighborhood cat. Actually, I wouldn't be totally devastated by that. If nothing else, it would give me something great to write about. The post would start something like:

"So yesterday, the ceiling fan detached and flew through the slider and killed a neighborhood cat! As expected, I wasn't totally devastated."

U/P Overload

U/P Overload is coming. It has nothing to do with the Upper Peninsula, Michiganders. It's a new phenomenon in which your brain reaches maximum capacity on one tiny part of its memory: Usernames and Passwords. And it's coming for society. Think it's not?

Allow me to remind you the myriad forms U/Ps take: account nicknames, frequent flier #s, credit/debit card #s, that 3-digit code thingy on the back of credit/debit cards, padlock combos, garage or car door codes, social security #, student ID, employee ID, copy machine account code (at my work, it's different for the color and b/w copiers - seriously), any one of your seven email addresses, and don't even get me started on the dreaded PIN! Incidentally, it's not PIN #, because PIN stands for Personal Identification Number. You wouldn't say, "Personal Identification Number Number", would you? Well, maybe if you were playing that drinking game, which I heard about from a friend, where you create a rule that everyone must say the last word of any sentence twice twice. You have PINs for voice mail access on your mobile and work phones, online account access, ATM cards, debit swipe machines, your fuel rewards card, telephone banking, your wife's ATM card ... er, you get the idea.

Website access is clearly the worst offender, though. At work alone I have usernames and passwords, which may or may not be the same, for the following sites: intranet, expense reports, payroll, benefits, half a dozen vendors (all with different 'rules' for password wackiness), logging on to the network, and, of course, logging back on to the network after I step away for five, no, three seconds. "It's for your security!", they say. I also have several files and folders protected by passwords. Again, that's just at work. How many personal online accounts do you access? If you're like me, at least a dozen. But if you're under the age of 22, it's ranging somewhere around 18 Jillion.

"But Steve," you might say if you were inclined to speak out loud to a web log, "don't you use the same username and password for a lot of those?" Well, yes. Sometimes. When they let you. But over here, it's your full email address and an eight character password. Simple enough. However, over there, it's just the username part of the email address followed by a 6-to-10 character password which includes at least one capital letter and no, and I mean NO swear-word symbols. $#%^@! And back on that site, you get to make up a cute account nickname (bobbin4apples), choose a visual queue (I'll take the rubber ducky), and use your keyboard to type the letters that correspond to the numbers on the on-screen keypad. Ahhhhh, the letter 2.

Well, how do we manage all this information without totally losing it, literally AND figuratively? We create cheat sheets, of course! Don't act like you don't have one. A sticky note here and there. A Word document, deftly hidden on our hard drive and not on the shared network - password protected, of course. Or maybe we just make SURE SURE SURE that we use word/number combinations that we just can't forget! Note to everyone: Stop using your oldest child's birth date in 8-digit format as your password. Because then we all know your password. 03131975 isn't fooling anyone!

Fortunately, technology will eventually catch up and provide us with new solutions. Take Apple, for instance. Their Mac computers have an application called "Keychain" which stores U/P combinations for websites and other stuff. Of course, it has an administrative password, for when you need to remember your actual passwords. And kudos for calling it "Keychain", because I can't think of any personal item people lose less than keys. Seriously, what word better completes the sentence, "Honey, I can't find my ____"? Maybe "cell phone", which is also where you keep that notepad entry with all your password reminders. See why U/P Overload is a serious threat?

Enjoy the confusion while you can, I guess. Soon, when we're systematically implanted with RFID tags broadcasting everything about us and our brains are integrated with the World Wide Head, which controls everything - sort of like The Force, but with a wireless network - we won't have the option to use the Spanish word for "orange" followed by "1" as our password any longer. And that, my friends, is a day in which I will click the Log Off button one final time.

Okay, that was a bit melodramatic.

Can't you imagine the conversations of that fully integrated web-human future?

[3 guys, gathered around the holographic copier]

"Hey, do you remember 'logging on to the network'? Man, what a crazy time that was."

"You aren't kidding. I used to log on to the network 5, 6 times a day. Never thought twice about it."

"Did you ever log on to the network, then log off, then try and log in as someone else, just to see what it was like?"

"Only EVERY DAY!"

"HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA. Yeah. Hey, I just realized we're inter-men, and we can't think or feel or experience anything on our own anymore."

"Oh @#$%^&"

Give me "The Leaner" any day

Annie and I had a quiet, but much needed at-home Valentine's Day. We hadn't spent quality time together, sans kids, since the W. Bush administration. Our mornings were separately endured - she at the hair salon, where I had a dozen roses delivered via super secret courier, and me at a local mall, filling in as Big Cookie Cake decorator in a corporate-supported V-Day promotion. I anticipated doing more 'marketing guy' work, like standing around and looking confused, but demands were such that I had to put my limited decorating skills to work. While you catch your breath from "yeah right" giggling, realize I am not crafting wedding cakes here - just some colorful borders and Valentines-y messages using icing on ginormous cookies.

Let me be honest here: I hate malls on holidays. I'd rather work on 50-year old plumbing at the cottage than service crazed consumers at a cookie shop, but I try not to let this conflict of interests bury my enthusiasm for my job. But there were moments - two in particular - where my creative efforts in cookie design were genuinely appreciated by customers, and that made me feel good. Not as good as the text message that buzzed in my pocket when Annie got the flowers, but good enough to make my morning of work seem meaningful.

Our Valentine's evening began early, with New York strips on the grill (while still daylight), seasoned red skin potato wedges, homemade salad, and plenty of red wine. Maybe it was the wine or the lame comedy we watched, but our night ended early, too. This is finally getting me to the subject of this post...

Due to the early bedtime, I woke at 4:30am and could not get back to sleep. So I made my way downstairs and did what anyone else would do in my situation - watch 2.5 hours of the NBA's All-Star weekend on DVR! For those who aren't pro basketball fans, this event includes competitions of shooting, hamming & mugging for the camera, and dunking (sort of). For the record, I have claimed victory in several basketball skills competitions on lesser stages in my lifetime. Two free throw shooting competitions (Jr. high camp, and an impromptu high school practice competition, where I nailed 62 in a row); a 3-pt shooting competition as a sophomore or junior at a Christ In Youth conference, and a slam dunk contest (seriously) at the freshman orientation all-nighter at Grand Valley's fieldhouse. The dunking victory came on a 9-ft rim, but still, I won a brand new GVSU hat, so that's how you know it was real. I claim and remember these accomplishments both to boost my self esteem (sad, I know), but also to move closer to making my point: I can appreciate these skills competitions, but this year's NBA "jam" was more like a jar of spoiled apricot preserves*.

Nevermind the fact that the 3-pt shooting contest's participants were nobodies who also happened to SUCK AT SHOOTING 3 POINTERS, but the dunk contest fell to the saddest and lowest point in its history. In short, the Sprite All Star Sprite Slam Dunk Fest sponsored by Sprite became a rigged, gimmicky Sprite ad featuring some mediocre dunks. If you saw this event, you might recall the unending delays while defending champ Dwight (rhymes with Sprite) Howard set up false hoops, donned Superman capes (fresh last year, recycled this year), and tried to catch passes from random spectators on his way to a few o.k. power dunks. Then, the NBA's favorite tiny leaper of the decade, Nate Robinson, donned a Sprite-green uniform and shoes, and grabbed a green basketball to leap over the aforementioned Superman for his contest-clinching dunk. Alright - this dunk was okay, unlike his previous round dunk where he stepped off a guy's back. He's short! The whole point is that he can jump super high; so why is he using a step ladder?!

Worse than all the shenanigans were the announcers, including former 3-pt and dunk contest participants, who constantly fawned over the antics and acted like this was some great theater. Reggie Miller, bless his ugly...shooting form, mentioned "kryptonite" and "Lex Luthor" eleventeen-thousand times during Nate Spritenson's green-clad effort. HA HA HA - it's a Superman reference! Look, the great dunk contests of the 80s showed nearly the entire array of what humans can do whilst dunking a ball through a hoop, but they still had to do it, on the spot, cameras rolling, without missing! If you missed you got docked! Now, they allow you not only several full minutes, but 2 extra attempts if you don't get your goofy costume-enhanced dunk down the first 1 or 8 times you try it.

NBA: Get the stars back, drop the ridiculous props and teammate gimmicks, give them 1 attempt per round, 6 or 8 rounds, and put MJ, Dominique, Spud, Clyde the Glide, Kenny "Sky" Walker, Larry Nance, and Dr. J on the judges' table and give us our contest back! Gosh!

*Apricot preserves is the grossest jelly flavor of all time. If you say any other flavor, you are wrong!

The Office

I got a promotion! Sort of. The Company I Work For has, let's say, slimmed down recently; however, we are still located in a large office building full of perimeter offices surrounding cube farms. As a way to boost morale (and because they probably need to sell the cubes for cash), many of us were moved from cubes into nicer offices with a door and a window. Perky!

Here was the old...












And here is the new!











I picked the kids up early from day care last week and took them to see my new digs. They had not yet seen my office at all, so I thought it would be cool for them to get a glimpse of my daily environment, and I could show the kids off to some of my lingering co-workers. When I told them where we were going, they were less than thrilled. But I reminded them about the ICEE machine in our break room and that I work for a cookie company. Suddenly, we were on the road to Disneyland! Once there, they were impressed with several things:
The Elevator
The cookie showcase in the lobby (old, display product only - sorry!)
The maze of empty cubes
The views of the Salt Lake valley (they are quite nice)
Blue Raspberry ICEEs
A cookie from this one nice guy
A piece of candy from this one nice lady
This foam la-z-boy phone holder promotional item











So to summarize: Steve works in this building with a huge elevator, and they have this cookie thing and we got ICEEs and a treat from the really nice people who work there, and he has this phone thing that looks like a chair. Geez, who needs school? We want to go to work, too!

The kids were a hit, and everyone was extremely warm and friendly. The best moment was when my boss began chatting with Z, the talkative one, and asked her if she had ever been to the office before.

Z: "Yeah, um, well no, we just picked up Steve once but we didn't come in."
Me: "When was that? You must have been with Mom."
Z: "No, we were with Heidi. Remember, it was when you got in the car and you farted."
Co-workers nearby but out of sight: "snicker"
Boss: "Ohhhhh, OK."
Me: "Wow, Z, thanks for that great story." [turn to boss] "That one has no filter!"

I'm always shocked at how well the kids remember certain events. I barely recalled being picked up by Heidi and the kids, much less breaking wind (accidentally... what?) Good good times.

6 Cities in 18 Days

Time to hit the road again. This time I'll be facing groups of franchisees who will be demanding answers and explanations for our company's bankruptcy (which they are emerging from...), and who are facing a bleak retail season. Can't wait! Should be nothing but laughs and hugs. I'm also not looking forward to the extended time away from the wife and kids (I love saying that). At least I have the weekends, and a regular trip to Chicago for fun/family time at the end of it all.

Just for kicks, and since I have already scheduled some visits for friends in various cities, here's a glance at my itinerary:

Mon. Oct. 6: Detroit...

Wed. Oct. 8: ...to Chicago

Fri. Oct. 10: Back home

Mon. Oct. 13: Orlando...

Wed. Oct. 15: ...to Baltimore

Fri. Oct. 17: Back home

Mon. Oct. 20: Cleveland...

Wed. Oct. 22: ...to Newark...

Thurs. Oct. 23: ...to Chicago again (for fun, not work!)

We're not regionally assigned at the corporate office, but due to scheduling needs, my marketing co-worker has San Fran, Phoenix, St. Louis, Dallas, Los Angeles, and Seattle. I'm not complaining though, I mean, I get way more frequent flier miles.

I'm hoping a few good stories are dropped in my lap as I will have some time to blog in the various hotels and airports. My Stepdad-themed blog has yet to get off the ground as I couldn't figure out how to attach the URL I bought to the blogger format. I also haven't had time to design it. So that's going really well.

Being all growed up

Life is swarming all around right now. It hasn't stung me directly, but it's constantly shifting shapes and actually seems to be taking little stabs at family and friends in a lot of ways. At the same time, I'm finding lots of opportunities for change and new challenges amid the chaos.

First the fun. Let's see, I joined a softball team with some co-workers. We lost both games I played in, while they won the first game I missed. So I'm obviously having a huge impact. It's a co-ed team, and my friend Kimberly is playing with us since Annie finds softball about as interesting as she finds, well, sport. The first grounder I got at shortstop was hit by a dude, and kid was getting up the line quick. I thought I had a chance so I whizzed one over to first - to Kimberly - but the throw was low and somehow eluded her glove. It did manage to find her tibia, however, and made a thud the left fielder could hear. Kimberly bravely shook it off, but I saw her a couple days later and the bruise was pretty much from foot to knee. Glad she's my fiance's bff, because otherwise I'd probably have to pay her medical bills or something. I followed that up with 2 more fielding errors, while making maybe 2 putouts. In a related story, I played left field in the next game.

Preston is in soccer this summer, and the improvement from last fall is amazing. He's scored two goals already - in the two games I missed - and is quite the goalie as well. Zoey decided to call it a career, since last fall her involvement in soccer was a mix of chasing a boy named Noah and asking out of the game so she could snuggle with Mom on the sideline. At least she knew to walk away while she was at the top of her game.

At work, on the same day I found out my marketing coordinator was not returning from maternity leave, I found out my boss was leaving. She is a super dynamic businesswoman, a great leader, and I learned a lot from her. She's taking a job with a company that sells skincare products - a brand Annie happens to love, too, so she's on the list for free samples already. The question most people have is "do you get her job?", to which I respond "they wouldn't offer it to me, and who needs that kind of pain anyway?" It will leave a gap for a while, but I'm excited to work directly under our President, who has major marketing savvy developed under some big name brands.

Annie has an exciting potential opportunity that would involve us moving across the country if they offer her the job (they will) and if we accept (we'll see). My initial reaction to a change like that was my standard hemming and hawing and general skepticism. But the more we talk about it in realistic terms, the more used to the idea I become. I mean, I did pick up and move across the country once, it should be that much easier if we do it as a family, right? Yikes. Speaking of family, I'll be excited to finally see them in about a month when I head back to G.R. for Jr. P's wedding. I miss my nephews! I heard them on the phone a few days ago, and they sound like they're growing so fast. I think the oldest has a beard now.

As a new (almost) stepdad to school age kids, I have a bond with them that grows and grows, but obviously lacks the depth that must come from your own blood and the experiences of having a newborn. A number of friends and my sister have at least given me a vicarious glimpse of that bond. It saddens me then that I've received news in the past month from no less than 4 friends or family involving struggles with newborns. From miscarriage to genetic disorder to infant trauma and pregnancy risk - it's just a flood of reality checks for one who still imagines having his own children someday. My own family had unique experiences with my autistic sister and some of her complications as a newborn. It's amazing how frequently families face these types of situations. Does anything have a greater risk/reward dichotomy than pending childbirth? The comfort is found in witnessing these families rally around each other, as they face their challenges with love and selflessness. I need reminders at times that life is not only delicate, but precious - something to be enjoyed as much as possible while we are lucky enough to breathe.

Sorry for the dramatic tone! I do funny better than reflective, but it's what's on my mind. Quickly, then, I switch to sports: Go Pistons! Those of us who have followed the NBA for the past 20+ years think Detroit-Boston playoffs and drool. The chowder eaters have an abundance of championships lately between the Pats and Sawx (plus I heard they got a no hitter tonight - from a dude who beat cancer, no less!). Motown has a lot of almosts and inflated expectations lately (not to mention a thug-mayor scandal), but no "'Ships", as 'Sheed would say. If the Pistons and Wings both make their leagues' finals, I may have to fly to Michigan just to sit in a BW's on one of those nights they both play and get my fanhood on. Where have those days gone, boys? Oh well, at least I have a little thing called "DVR". Soccer game? Softball? Neighborhood kid scooter drama? No problem. Just don't text me and spoil the ending, Parents. That's right - my folks are texting like pros, LOL.

Got your back wit' da sweets

Yo, check it. Some of yous may be wondering what I do at me job. Well, sample this little jingle I scraped together:



TOTALLY JOSHING - I had nothing to do with it, but it is outstanding work, and free marketing. Which is the best kind.

I should write more, too

It's been a while, and so much has changed. I've been to Orlando (via Denver), Salt Lake City (via Memphis, then Denver), Los Angeles, Salt Lake City, Denver and Salt Lake City in the past two weeks (...I've been ev-ery-where man, I've been ev-ery-where...). Travelling by plane is the best time to catch up on a growing favorite activity of mine: Reading. Nerd Alert! Joking. All the cool people I know read, and they read more than me, and probably better books than me. In the past few months I've read, and recommend based on x out of 4 stars, the following books: Devil in the White City by Erik Larson (4 stars) - I can't believe this part of American history is not more well known; Skeleton Coast by Clive Cussler with Jack DuBrul (3 stars) - Cussler weaves another tale of shipwrecks, political unrest, unbelievably diabolical plots to cause harm, and the heroes who prevent it; The Meaning of Sports by Michael Mandelbaum (2.5 stars) - recommended by a brilliant sports/political journalist, Gregg Easterbrook (Tuesday Morning QB), this book compares the defining traits of the 3 major American sports - Baseball, Football, and Basketball - to 3 distinct social eras in our history: Agrarian, Industrial Revolution, and post-Industrial Revolution. I gave it 2.5 because I knew a lot of the factoids already, but LOVED the section about baseball's history - that alone makes it worth the read for any baseball fan - and found the comparisons interesting. I'm currently reading High Fidelity by Nick Hornby (incomplete) - easy, fun read but difficult to separate the book's British setting and characters from the Cusack/Hjejle/Black cast of the US movie.

I was travelling for work, doing a marketing presentation to groups of franchisees as part of day-long regional meetings. As small as 4 in our own Salt Lake market, to a group of 50+ in L.A. My portion was about an hour and a half of presenting, discussion, and answering questions. Tiring, frustrating at times, but rewarding. I probably learned more from them than they from me. (Charon - was that an acceptable sentence structure? Sounded weird.) I also ate a lot of cookies and catered lunches, which is one of two reasons my dress pants have been, well, not exactly 'fitting' lately.

Annie and I find it difficult to be separated when we travel for business, which is ironic considering we 'dated' from a distance greater than the entire Central time zone for a couple years. I'm home now for a week, then I leave for a Chicago-St. Paul leg of the same meetings. 3 weeks from now, I'll be in Hawaii for my first time! A much needed vacation that Annie has been diligently planning in my absence thanks to The Ultimate Kauai Guidebook (TBD stars). Time to stop donating money to the local 24-Hour Fitness (the other reason for the tight pants) and start getting in beach shape.

Let's see, what else... Oh - since I last wrote, Michigan got Duck-waxed by Oregon, then rebounded for 4 straight wins. Speaking of 4 straight, I'm the only 4-0 team in my Fantasy Football League. Double Nerd Alert!! Hey guys - remember how I won the league last year and how much of a fluke it was? Check yourselves before you wriggedy-wreck yourselves. Tommy Brady just hit for another TD pass...it's going to be a great Sunday.

And the big news? (drum roll please...)

We bought a new car! Gotcha, suckers. We leased it, actually. I say 'we' only in the sense that I was present for some signatures. Annie did all the work, since it is her need for new, shiny things with satellite radio and 3rd row seating that led to this decision. Nissan Pathfinder - gray, leather, loaded. Bu-bye to the Jetta, hello to extra space for soccer gear and trips to Costco (48-pack of TP? No problem.) Babe - we've finally made it! New TV, furniture, the car, and nearly unmanageable debt. We're so 21st century.

Whew.

I'm whipped. Back to working full time +, had my first Mrs Fields, um, field trip last week in Chicago, and just spent the evening taking Z & P swimming, getting them fed, doing laundry, helping them pack for their weekend with Grandma at the cabin, getting them to bed, paying bills, and providing some smalltime business consulting for a friend. It's 10:00 and finally peaceful. Annie and I have a nice reprieve this weekend - Sat and Sun are her first consecutive days off since about April - and we're going to enjoy some Utah outdoors, although I haven't revealed our secret destination yet.

Michigan sports fans: How weird is it that the Tigers are so good still? Chris Berman on Baseball Tonight yesterday said something like "...and the Tigers, who are always so fun to watch with their great young pitching..." Step back in time with me, just 15 months ago, and imagine any respectable analyst saying that sentence. You'd either assume he was being a sarcastic jerk, or you'd recommend his transfer to ESPN7.

One thing I love about my first spring/summer in Utah is this:






I'm trying to think of some witty and wise anecdotes to share but it's not going to happen. I remember when a 'bed time' of 10:30 was laughable. Now it's a necessity. I'm nearly 29, after all.

I Can See Magna From Here

So I like my job so far. I've been eating a few cookies for, you know, product training. And to balance it out, I've been taking the stairs rather than the elevator to the 4th floor. I'm not going to say I'm out of shape, but I can really feel the elevation by the time I reach my cube. Yes that's right. I'm in a cube farm. It will be a couple months before I take over the company and get a plush windowed office with views like these, from our break room. Annie's IKEA opened yesterday to much fanfare, Swedish pride, and freeway bottlenecks. I'll probably see her again in about a month. I'm off to California tomorrow for a long weekend, which I'm really excited about. It's a family reunion / 60th Anniversary party for my grandparents. I believe that puts them in the category of "really old"... but they're still rockin' and I have a blast with my family. Annie can't go because IKEA won't let her leave the meatball line until the entire state is satiated. Happy Memorial Day everyone!

Will Work For Cookies

After months of preparation, not making enough dough, chipping away at HR personnel, and baking in front of managers and presidents in numerous interviews, I have a new job. You'll recognize the name, Mrs. Fields, as a famous cookie company. What you may not know is the company also owns the TCBY, Pretzel Time, Pretzel Maker, and Great American Cookies brands.

I'll be an assistant brand manager for the Mrs. Fields cookie brand, working closely with the franchisees around the country. You may have seen them in your favorite mall or an airport food court. I may work a little bit with their packaged goods division, which are the products you'd see on store shelves in the 'premium cookie' section.

Look for Mrs. Fields locations HERE, and try their White Chunk Macadamia Nut, it's a classic.

To celebrate, I decided to fly home to Michigan for the weekend. I'll be home this Thursday afternoon through Sunday, which happens to be Mother's Day (you're welcome, Mom). Can't wait to see everyone! Annie cannot come unfortunately. Apparently she has some sort of store opening approaching or something. Like that's so important.

"If you're going to San Francisco..."

"...Be sure to overdress; the weather is not as warm as you might think..."

You'll recognize that as a classic song lyric. Either that, or my latest lesson in travel. Annie and I had a great time in SanFran last weekend. It was the first time in the city for both of us, and we got to celebrate her birthday while we were there. The weather was cloudy & foggy on Friday and Saturday, but we did the requisite trolly rides, pier tour, seafood eating, wine tasting, shopping in Union Square, and getting pedicures. WHAT?! Yes, it's true. My primary birthday gift to Annie was a simple concession: "Okay, I'll get a pedicure with you." She's convinced it's the greatest thing ever, and I have to admit, it was not awful.

It was also a chance for me to see some great friends, Brad and Megan, from Michigan. They recently moved to Foster City, south of SanFran, and it was their first time meeting Annie. Just 4 months ago, Brad and Megan lived above me at an apartment complex in Grand Rapids. Now look at us! They picked us up in the city Saturday around noon, and after taking a drive down Lombard Street (the winding, steep one), we headed out to HWY 1 and drove down through Half Moon Bay, and then over to their home in Foster City. It would have been a gorgeous drive if not for the fog and clouds, but fun nonetheless. Megan has provided her perspective on the weekend at her blog, here: http://www.xanga.com/theparisians

Annie and my pictures are here: http://picasaweb.google.com/sj.gingrich/SanFranTrip

THE END OF UNEMPLOYMENT UPDATE #1: I have a 3rd interview on Monday with a notable cookie company based in SLC for an assistant brand manager position. It's a famous brand, the founder was on the Today Show this morning, and you may have seen their franchise in a mall near you. Wish me luck!

Amazing Moments

Nothing too topical here. Just some random thoughts from the past week.

I can't believe how quickly a 5 year old can make a mess. Of anything. At light-speed. Seriously, I can be looking right at her while she's eating some lunch, say a bowl of noodles. I look away for a nanosecond, and when I look back, there is Ramen on the chair, floor, and pink sticky stuff all over the counter. She's not even drinking anything! Where does the pink stuff come from? And why is it always pink?

Kids don't really care what they do yet. They just want to do what the other kid is doing. We had the kids' cousins over to Annie's (yes, I used her name, I'm so over the paranoia) house Saturday night, 2 boys. Ages 2 and 5 maybe. And 2 neighbor friends, maybe 6 and 8 or so. So 6 little monkeys of varying age. From the 2 yr old to the 8 yr old, it didn't matter. Someone grabs a piece of paper and a marker and starts drawing? They all want to draw. They're all drawing stuff within minutes. Someone wants to watch Flushed Away? They all want to watch. Within minutes, they're gazing in awe at the animated British rats. (This lasts for, oh, 18 seconds. Then they're back to drawing and spilling pink stuff, even the boys.)

Did you see Rasheed Wallace's 3/4-court shot last night? I didn't either. Until hours later on SportsCenter. The cable network "Altitude", presumably out of Denver, showed clearly on the cable menu "Denver Nuggets at Detroit Pistons, 5:30 PM (that's Mountain Time, yo)" - Hooray! Steve finally gets to see a game! Only what was being shown instead? COLLEGE HOCKEY. And get this little nugget of irony: It was coverage of the regional tournament games being played at Van Andel Arena... that's in Grand Rapids, MI for those who don't know. Which is near sea level. So why is it on Altitude anyway, hmmmmmm?

I'm working again. For Grabber, the same company, as a part-time "consultant". I used those "quotation" "marks" because I don't really consult, I just read emails and review files and look for spelling errors or misplaced logos. It's good work if you can get it. And the best part: I can wear anything I want. That's right baby, it's no pants necessary! A smart pair of khaki shorts does just fine. Sickos.