Daytime All The Time

(I am fully aware that this post will not win me any popularity awards.  I am cool with that.)

There are people around the country who live under the ground. Far beneath the ground. They do not know Daylight as those who live above ground know it. They do not venture above ground to experience it. Some don't even try. Others find that the struggle to get above ground is so difficult that they just don't feel it is worth it. And there are those few who manage to make the incredibly difficult and trying journey to discover the wonder of the Sun.

Well, their scientists have found alternative sources of light. It was necessary, they felt, since even above ground, the Sun isn't perfect. It is on the other side of the world half of the time, for one. Also, you can't see it when clouds, thick clouds, heavy storms or even ash from volcanic eruptions get in the way. How effective is the Sun, really, when those things can get in the way of the Sun's light?

They worked for many years building the case for the equivalency of their light. These scientists even conducted a few studies recently to determine the effectiveness of their new light, although they have no way to show the long-term effectiveness or cost of their light. They have managed to convince people who live underground that these sources of light they have manufactured are equal to the light of the Sun - enough people that those who still long for the Sun are scorned and mocked for looking to something that is simply not necessary and certainly not superior in any way to their new light.

No longer do people need to be concerned with trying to venture above ground. They can enjoy all the benefits of the Sun beneath the ground. In fact, they are ready to let all of us who live above ground have this light. They have managed to redefine what Daytime is. It is simply the existence of light. Any light from any source - but especially this new source.

Where there is any light, there is day. It's a beautiful thing. Daytime Equality. No longer do the people underground have to live in a perpetual night. No longer do we above ground have to have a night. This includes during the nighttime. The moon is equivalent to the Sun. As are the stars. And let's not forget bioluminescent organisms - in the sea, on land, or in the air.

Sea	Land	Air

We have a new light. This light has been declared to be equal in brilliance, effectiveness, warmth, energy and nutrition as the Sun. Sure, it comes at great cost to produce and maintain, but that is not what is important. What is important is we no longer have lighting inequality. No longer is Daytime banned. Eventually, we will have the Justice System correct any attempt for people to assert otherwise.

Never mind that there is no real need for a scientific study to disprove something that has been proved through thousands (millions, if you prefer) of years of observation.

Never mind that Daytime never needed to be defined in the first place since it was simply observed day in and day out from the dawn of time. Daytime was and still is Daytime.

It's true that humans have, throughout time, attempted to find substitutes for the Sun, starting with fire.

Besides missing the Sun during the night, we built or otherwise lived in structures that blocked the Sun's light from reaching us. We built windows. We created torches and oil lamps, electricity.

But it isn't good enough to have the Sun. Some people don't have the Sun. We need something equal to the Sun. Now we have it. The laws will be corrected and that which is, by nature, superior to all other light will no longer be considered superior.

Nor should it be. I think it's outrageous that we ever thought the Sun could possibly provide superior light, warmth, or nutrition to all the Earth. So arrogant. How dare we?

So it shall be written and so it shall be done.

I Feel Secure

A couple of years ago, our friends were victims of a break-in.

This should not be confused with break dancing, which I did at first. I have difficulty picturing them actually doing break dance moves. It's not even a matter of whether they could actually do the moves, I just have difficulty picturing my friends doing them. It hurts my brain and couldn't be pretty.

What's more, now I am picturing the criminals doing break dance moves as they break into the house. Can you see them moonwalking across the living room floor to the DVD player and stereo? Then doing the worm into the front room to steal some art?

By the way, does it count as a break-in if the back door is left unlocked? Technically speaking, the thief (or thieves) didn't break anything in order to gain entrance into the house.

Regardless, Nicki and I felt it would be a good time to have a discussion about safety and security with our kids and why it is important to lock the doors as you come in the house. Or, perhaps even more importantly, as you leave it.

References below to our friends' names have been changed to protect the innocent - or stupid, depending on your perspective - since they left their back door unlocked and I don't want to tip off the entire criminal world to a family whose home is an easy target. This is a very real concern since such a large portion of the readership of this blog comes from the criminal world or is otherwise tied to it.

Nicki: "Suzie & Marcus just had their house broke into. We don't want that to happen us."

During a slight pause, which involved some interesting mental processing on the part of our then-7-year-old, Nick interjected, "That's right. We don't want OUR house to get split in two."

What Do You Want to Be When You Grow Up?

This week there is a movie opening that is based on a book. I love that sentence. It's timeless. I could have written it in just about any week and it would be true. This one, though, was written my someone I knew in college. He was in my accounting group.

Let me repeat that: He was in my accounting group in college.

Can we just be clear on what that is supposed to mean? You can have a refresher by reading my very first post on this blog.

Truthfully. I didn't even know this book existed until I saw trailers for the movies recently. In my effort to understand the excitement surrounding it, I looked it up on the fountain of all knowledge and truth, Wikipedia. There were hints in the plot summaries that the author of this book was from Utah or, at least a member of the predominant religion in Utah. His name had a familiarity to it that I couldn't put my finger on, so I consulted the all-wise Wiki regarding him.

And there was his ugly mug as big a life (or at least about 2" square) looking just like he did 15 years ago. It all came back to me: the teasing, the mocking, the Tums. I did recognize this person after all.

Please do not misunderstand. I am very happy for him. And he seems to be taking it all in stride from what I have read. But, hey, most importantly, he is now my link to fame. My Bacon Number has just improved. BIG TIME.

I knew what I wanted to be when I grew up. Presumably, so did this guy from college. Yet, here he is 15 years later at the top of the NY Times Best-Seller list with a major motion picture being released based on a book he wrote.

Me? I would have liked to sing and perform for a living. I also have had fleeting thoughts of writing. (Hence the whole blog idea in the first place.) But I have a family to support. (Please look over to your right - just on your screen, don't literally turn your head. My family is not there with you wherever you are.) And families are expensive. They are also forever. Hopefully, they aren't expensive forever.

I digress.

Make a living doing what you love. That is a great idea. If you can't do that, then love what you do for a living. If you can't do that, then just count the hours each day until you can go home and hope for a chance to be on Wheel of Fortune and win $1,000,000.

I probably fall into the middle category. Although, I would still not pass up the opportunity at the third.

If I were in the first, my Bacon Number would be 1 by now.

Setec Astronomy

Too many secrets.

I am not just talking about government cover-ups and conspiracies. Nobody is a big fan of those, either. But what I have learned is that your teenagers are most likely lying to you.

This past week has had me playing "Sneakers" for real.  Okay, not with scrabble tiles, though.

However, it did involve some hacking.  Interesting side note for those of you who think the only way you can restore your iPhone, iPad, or iPod is by losing all of the data on the device - that's not true.  It takes a little bit of mad computer skills - mostly from others, with me just following instructions.

I will leave you to decide which person I am in that picture.

What? Teenagers lie? I realize that to most of you, this is not a striking revelation. However, with today's technology available to them, unless you are as strict on security as we tried to be, there is a reasonable chance they are telling more lies than you know about.

If you have seen any of the following logos on your child's devices, I highly recommend you delete them. They are only going to enable your child to get into trouble (there are more than just these - you should review any app on the device if you do not know what it does):

Do I seem like I am raising some crazy kind of alarm? Fine. I think parents need to know about this stuff.


Chances are, you don't. You need to. Ask questions. You aren't treating your child like a criminal by simply asking questions.

And if they know you are likely to look at their phone and review there apps and texting and Instagram and so forth? Good. Let me make one more recommendation: periodically review the list of devices that are connected to your Wi-Fi router. There may be a device in your home that you don't know about.

Understand that I love technology. But not as much as I love my kids.

I tell you this because there are kids I know of whose parents wouldn't think their kids are involved in something they wouldn't approve of. And yes, we have been talking to those parents. We are so mean!!

Deal with it.

Is it love? You bet. True love, REAL love, doesn't allow or enable self-destructive behavior. Love intervenes and tries to stop or correct.

Alyn Beck

Credit to Tracy Smith for this photo.

Right now, most of my friends are being fairly inefficient at work (if Facebook is any clue). Most of my friends who aren't cops. My cop friends are working their tails off.

Yesterday, a friend of mine - a member of my ward family, a Sunday School teacher to my children, a father of three - Alyn Beck, was murdered by two cowards who appear to have targeted him and his fellow officer, Igor Soldo, simply because they wore badges.

I heard the news that Alyn had been shot while I was in the middle of Church meetings. And yes, I had a hard time focusing to the lessons for the nest two hours. I am not going to lie. I spent most of the time refreshing 4 local news websites to see if Alyn survived.

I can't begin to adequately express all of my thoughts because I have so many emotions vying for time to be expressed. Sadness, anger, confusion, love, hurt, etc.

Alyn was a good man.  He expressed it in his own cop way that was humorous, at times gory, perhaps even offensive to some, but always an insightful way. You could tell he was a thinker.  He was intelligent and expressive.

He worked hard and served others. Countless story after story of his jumping in to help people - especially when it came to manual labor.  He clearly loved to work and loved working with his hands, getting dirty and sweaty in an effort to help others accomplish tasks or projects they were working on.

He had a job that is ugly - sees ugly things and ugly people.  Yet, he was able to be happy, smile and make others smile - always. You could tell he actually cared about you - and others around him.  He cared.

What can get me through something like this? A knowledge of eternal things. I hope that peace can find his wife, Nicole and their 3 children. I know it will not be easy and it may take time, but I hope.

I know Alyn is in a place of peace now. But his family will not be. I know there are so many who feel a great sense of responsibility to be there for them and offer them support, love, and whatever comfort is possible for them once they are ready for that. Out of love for them and for Alyn - at the very least to try to repay the many kindnesses he showed to us in his life.

In the meantime, I feel a strange sense of comfort when I see my Facebook friends change their profile picture to reflect what all police officers in Las Vegas are doing this week.  Metro places a black band across their badges to reflect that they are mourning an officer fallen in the line of duty. Yes, I am not an officer, but Alyn was a friend and I have several other Metro friends and their families who are grieving and dealing with this knowing that it could just as easily be their own husband/father who this could have happened to.  So, I post this picture to be in solidarity with them:

Street With No Name

Have you ever noticed how some neighborhoods have streets named with certain themes? Similar ideas, books, etc?

For example, there is a neighborhood in the Summerlin area of Las Vegas with street names like Hobbiton Ave., Barrow Down St., Middle Earth, Rivendell Ave., Weather Top Ct., and Grey Havens St. (Don't tell me that's not cool.)

Or how about the one with Red Deer St., Black Elk Ave., and Blue Raven Ave.?

Well, as you drive west on Bonanza Rd in Las Vegas between Sloan Dr. and Nellis Blvd, you will notice some streets on the right hand side with a great Native American theme.  Apache Lane. Navajo Lane.  Betty Lane.  Hopi Lane.  Ute Lane.

Wait...what?

I need to check my history books.  Maybe even Wikipedia.  Or some old John Wayne movies.

Here's the scene, as the Duke is leading the cavalry through the wild west.

"Colonel, we need to rely on our native guide to help us with the Indians in this territory."

"I have dealt with the Apache, the Utes, the Navajo.  The mightiest tribes in the west.  What am I missing?"

"Sir, 'round these parts it's the Betties that everyone fears."

I enjoy a quiet chuckle to myself every time I drive past it, I will admit. I personally believe it is a display of honor when Native American tribes are chosen for names of things like team mascots. Yes, at times, it is to honor their fierceness in battle.

Are there any sports teams or colleges naming their team the "Betties?"  If so, is this their mascot:

Fear us!  (If your team is the "Barneys," I am sure you do)

Drip Drip...Drippity Drop

I share this only because everyone has the same irrational fear that I do. No...I'm not talking about non-private bathroom facilities.

You are carrying on a normal conversation with someone. Or you are teaching a bunch of teenagers in a class. Or you are doing a presentation at work. Or you are at a work lunch with a group of Important People.


Then you feel something on your nose.

Not on the top of your nose. Not even the tip of your nose.

Something between your upper lip and your nose.

How do you calmly (and coolly), while in front of people, go ahead and check that there is nothing dripping from your nose? Your mind races and you think, "I could just slide my arm (or hand...please make sure you have hand sanitizer) briefly past my nose as I motion to something on the ceiling (surely I can think of a good reason to motion towards the ceiling)."

Or...perhaps you just go for it. Brazenly using your digits to check for rogue nasal excretion, whether in liquid or solid form. If you're a little more sanitary, you will likely use a handkerchief or tissue. Heaven knows that hauling a big white cloth or tissue up to your nose and rubbing it all around, obscuring your face for a brief moment doesn't exactly qualify as subtle and discrete.

The worst part is, 99% of the time, it is all in your mind. There is nothing there. NOTHING, I tell you! Why did you worry about it and call attention to your nose for no reason?

Now everyone is looking at your nose to see if they can see what it was that caused you to check there. And trust me, it's not that they want to see it. But, similar to when there is an accident on the side of the freeway, people just have to look.

Then you find yourself in an endless loop of constantly checking, because it may have been a warning from your brain that something was looming. An impending breakout from the nostril barrier. And now everyone is looking at it to check, too.

It's all in your mind. I promise. Don't worry about it. Go on with your meeting, lesson, presentation, conversation. At worst, it is possibly a long nose hair sticking out and catching a breeze (mostly for you men over, say, 40 - I congratulate you if you are experiencing this at a younger age).

Except, then there is that 1% of the time when there is actually something that keeps us checking during the other 99%.

Maybe it's the bubble. Or the drip. Or the goobery booger shooting out in the middle of a chuckle. (I watched it happen to someone else, I swear.)

Okay...for me, once...about 14 years ago, it wasn't even my nose.

It's funny, I didn't even realize that earwax could actually come out of your ear involuntarily. Hmm.

How Do I Love Her?

Probably not as well as I should, sometimes. I fall short. She knows that.

Yes, it's her birthday. Yes, it's also Valentine's Day. By the way, I have to say, I have not had a lot of help in my marriage from 1-800-Flowers.com. The first year we were married, I used them to deliver a dozen roses at two different times during the day. And it worked.

A win for me and trying. The next year, they never delivered flowers. They delivered an apology. And that's nice and all, but apologies just don't look and smell the same. You can't put them in a vase. They don't even have color.

Oh...and I got a coupon for $20 off my next order. THAT was funny. My next order. As if.

A few years later, I gave them a try again. They promised delivery by a certain time in the day. And they broke that promise. I spent a couple of hours in agony and not yelling at people on the phone until they had finally delivered flowers. Well, there might have been a little bit of yelling (or a lot of bit).

My lesson learned, I never tried using them again...until a few year later.

Do I even need to describe the successful day that it was? No, I do not.  Because it was a big FAIL!

I can promise, though, I am soured to ALL online flower delivery companies. If you have been blessed with success in that vein, I congratulate you. Of course, if Amazon starts into the flower business and I can use my Prime membership...No! No! I must resist and support my local (more expensive) florist. Or I'll just stop by Alberston's on the way home from work and see what they have left at 5:30 pm on Valentine's Day.

Okay...the point of this is to say that on this day, the most important woman in my life was born. (One might argue that should be my Mom, since, if she wasn't born, I wouldn't be here. Or that it should be Nicki's Mom, using the same logic. I acknowledge your opinion, but stand by my assertion.)

In fact, I remember that day so clearly. I was playing in the snow in Indiana and I suddenly paused as I felt something in the Universe jolt just a little bit. A very clear memory in my mind. I'm sure that's what happened.

She is my best friend. She is my sounding board. She is my iron. (I mean she irons out my wrinkles...not my shirts. The dry cleaners do that.)

And what a mom she is to our kids. Anything good in our children is solely due to her. I just provide money so they are able to go outside the house without being naked. Mostly, I just try to not ruin the goodness she gives them. (I submit Exhibits A & B below)

Exhibit A

Exhibit B

She keeps me sane and drives me insane all at the same time. What else is love?

I love Nicki Avery. Happy Birthday, my Bunches.

(I don't have a baby picture of her on this computer, so this one will have to do. Besides, this is what she looks like to me every day.)

We've Been There...and Now We Are Back Again

It time to address a very real concern.  An issue that I know many out there are dealing with and it is not just mine alone.  Something that, the older I get, becomes more and more of a pressing issue.

Yes, I am talking about pee dreams. Please do not let me stand here as though I am the only one who has this happen. But when I am sleeping at night, my dreams will suddenly and inexplicably turn to one subject - peeing.

Frankly, I have decided that I must be Joseph Gordon Leavitt (simply because I cannot stand the thought of my being Leonardo DiCaprio) and I have devised a method to be able to tell myself that I am sleeping and need to wake myself up.

Yes, peeing is my top. The story will change or the location, but with or without an adequate place to do so, I will pee.

And I never get relief. NEVER.

Two minutes later in my dream, I will be in the woods. No relief.

I will end up in a bathroom with a door that doesn't lock and full-length windows.  No relief.

Then, I will go to work and be in the employee break room at the sink.  No relief.

Bellagio Fountains?  No relief.

I think you get the idea.  Look, this is not some deep-seated Freudian concept I am unearthing in myself. No, the bottom line is, once I finally wake up, I really have to go. Really.

That's all my mind is trying to tell myself. "Wake up!!  Wake up before you have relief in your dreams!!"

I am so glad I don't have relief in my dreams. I fear what it would mean.

I am sure Nicki is grateful, too.

Like I said, I am just glad I am not the only one this happens to...I mean, I'm not, right?