The Hamster Wheel

I Really Don't Think God Cares

2009-05-19T22:20:00.000-07:00

While serving an LDS mission my companion and I had a pointless argument. Well…it was more of a discussion…seriously (we got along quite well). Spending 24/7 with someone you’re bound to get in pointless arguments/discussions. The meat of the discussion was whether or not there was basketball in heaven. He said there was more important things to do in heaven, and basketball would seem like an utter waste of time. I figured in heaven I’ll probably be able to do countless things at a time, why not throw in basketball, it’s fun. I still stick to that argument, but when it comes to God, I think that His view on it probably doesn’t extend too much past fun.

After the Magic won their 7 game series against the Celtics their star center, Dwight Howard, was interviewed. “What do you think it was that put you guys over the top tonight Dwight?” David Aldridge asked. “Well, I told the guys before the game that if we gave it our all, God would do the rest, and He did. I owe it all to Him.” I couldn’t help but get the image of God sitting down with His number 12 jersey on watching the game. Occasionally putting his invisible hand under Dwight’s feet lifting him another three inches to insure he dunked on Kendrick Perkins’s head. Every so often blowing an unseen breathe to skew Paul Pierce’s shot slightly off. Perhaps even adjusting the score and making all onlookers think that’s how it was supposed to be.

Don’t get me wrong, I love Dwight Howard. He’s far less arrogant than the typical NBA star, not to mention he’s funny. I’ve even been known to say if I thought cloning for a super army was ethically acceptable I would clone Dwight. He’s also not alone in these claims, I’m sure BYU fans and players would probably be a great source for a book on such claims. Let it be understood I’m not against anyone giving God credit for abilities, motivation, circumstances, and numerous other things. Although, quite frankly, when it comes to who wins, I really don’t think God cares…or intercedes.

Black Shoes and Bowl Cuts

2009-01-08T05:40:00.000-08:00

There are quite a few things I swore I'd never do in my life. Many of them were thought up at a young and ignorant age including: wear white basketball shoes, style my hair as anything but a bowl cut, and join the military. My fashion sense, dating life, and pocket book are all glad that I eventually went back on those personal convictions. Other resolutions will hopefully continue to hold strong: never smoke, drink alcohol, or hit a woman. It seems that eventually my self prophecies fall into one of the two categories: 1. Sure am glad my eyes were opened or 2. Happily never did and never will.

I'd venture to say that I've spent a good amount of time at the gymnasium (I prefer the full word over the abbreviation, sounds much more high society). In turn, I've also seen a fair amount of work out fashion faux pas. The striped MC Hammer pants with a thin tank top (in 2008) comes to mind. The older gentleman doing crunches on the swiss ball in spandex is unfortunately forever etched in my brain. (I pray those fall into the never will category). Finally, the gymnasium attendee that carries around a clipboard. Today, I am proud to say, my eyes have been opened.

I scoffed at the clipboard carrier for months...years even. Clipboards are for people who don't have the confidence to look around, they belong in the hands of people who are so inexperienced they need to write down what they're going to do for the day. Not to mention they just look nerdy (looking nerdy may be an advantage in some venues, but not at the gymnasium). Those reasons were enough to deter me until December of 2008.

While searching for a template on Microsoft Works I came across a workout template which included a grid for the day, exercise, weight, and reps. My eyebrows raised a bit, wheels started to turn. Mens Fitness had an article about how to break plateaus in weight lifting. Track the weight you do and simply increase it every time you do the exercise. My memory is good but I'm no elephant. Nah, it's not worth it...I don't have a PDA, I'd have to carry....a clipboard. After days and weeks of sleeplessness, I gave in. I couldn't be more happy to have done so. I know exactly what exercises I did the previous time for a particular muscle group. I can see what weight was too heavy or too light. It's apparent how much progress I've made. All of this motivates me to do even more. The clipboard is my Liahona (referring only when it comes to the gym of course).

Sure, some resolves are worth making concrete, but sometimes you just have to let go.

I Just Can't Take it Anymore

2008-11-20T02:14:00.000-08:00

I would consider myself to be pretty well down to earth, and I think most people would agree…or I hope they would. There are few things that push my buttons. I can suffer through chick flicks…ok bad example, I kind of like those. Although, I can sit in terrible traffic without much of a gripe. I can get cut off without cussing. I can watch people butt in line without complaining under my breath. I can even have my order screwed up without a significant rise in my pulse…but there’s a few things I think I’ve had enough of:

1. The un-agreeable person. Ex. “I’m so sick of my job. I hate doing the same thing day after day after day.” The un-agreeable person would say. “Yeah, I can see how that would wear on you.” I would reply. “Well, it doesn’t really wear on you, it’s just kind of boring you know?” The un-agreeable person continues. “Oh sure, I bet it would be nice to have something new once in a while.” I respond. “Well, not necessarily something new, just maybe a break from the same old routine.” The un-agreeable person says. “Holy hell, I’m trying to agree with you here, are you out of your mind?!” I think to myself.

2. The relentless chronic liar. Ex. “What’s your name sir?” I ask the man who tried to cash fraudulent checks. “Uhhhhh…says right there…uhhh Rocky Stallion…yeah, Rocky Stallion.” The chronic liar cleverly responds. “Well I checked the state database with that driver’s license and it doesn’t exist. Neither does that name and date of birth.” I say back. “Oh well uhhhhh yeah that’s just my nickname uhhh my real name is John Barnes.” Chronic liar replies. “Well John on your driver’s license it shows you’re 5’10...unless you’ve had a growth spurt since 21, I’m thinking that ain’t you.” I tell him. “Oh yeah, yeah, that’s been an issue, I’ve just been trying to fix that for a while now, that’s been wrong for a while, yeah.” Chronic liar relentlessly goes on. “Do I look stupid enough to fall for your antics chronic liar, and if not why did you just waste 30 minutes of my life…I hate you.” I think to myself.

3. The impossible answer question asker. Ex. “Question for ya…what is the most worthwhile thing we can do while on earth?” IAQA asks. “Ummm…learn from our mistakes.” Someone calls out from the back of the class after a long silence. “Oooookay.” IAQA responds while tilting his/her head to the side. “Serve other people.” The next daring individual speaks up. “Alll right…anyone else.” IAQA goes on. “Get rich!” The guy who’s always trying to be funny but rarely succeeds says. “LOVE…the most worthwhile thing we can do is love.” IAQA finally answers. “Thanks for the needle in the haystack IAQA.” I think to myself.

I know, I can’t stand that, but I can sit in traffic for an hour…weird. Maybe I’ll work on it…or maybe people should just get real.

Wake Up! This is Your Personal Alarm Speaking

2008-10-22T21:25:00.001-07:00

First and foremost it should probably be known that I am far from what they call a "morning person". If I had a choice, believe me I would be. Those who can wake up and laugh within the next five minutes are a complete enigma to me. Anyone who "jumps" out of bed is out of my realm of comprehension. In contrast, I prefer not to be spoken to for the first 30 minutes after waking up and I typically take a good five minutes from the final alarm drop to my feet hitting the floor. Now, what happens leading up to that is the fun part.
I'm one of those annoying types of people who sets their alarm for 45 minutes prior to when they have to get up and hits the snooze button 5 times (yes my snooze is 9 minutes, I promise I'm good at math). Why do I do that? It takes that entire 45 minutes for me to become cognisant of my situation...seriously. Yes, I've tried different types of alarms as well as placing it in a place where I have to get up and turn it off...and the snooze approach works best for me, sorry. Although, I think what happens during the first 3 or 4 snoozes we all can appreciate.
I have no idea what level of consciousness I'm at when my alarm first goes off, but its far from an operational state. Its also not in dream world. I would say it's some weird kind of twilight zone. After recognizing how odd these thoughts were I decided to start trying to track them.
Alarm is going off for the first time, my thought: "Why is the bell orchestra playing so early, I told them to shut up days ago!"
Different day, alarm is going off after the second snooze: "Why does my personal alarm keep going off, I'm trying to sleep until my work alarm goes off, this is ridiculous!"
Another day, alarm going off after first snooze: "This tune is so overplayed someone tell Casey Kasem to switch things up for once."
Yet another day, alarm going off yet again: "Where is William Wallace? Why is he playing his battle calls around these parts?"
A few days later: "What are you trying to tell me?! I don't speak your funny language, don't you speak English?"
Finally: "Who lives in a pineapple under the see...SPONGEBOB squarepants...why is the band so out of tune today?"
Am I alone in this? Who knows, maybe it happens to the morning people at night.

Sometimes They Really Do

2008-10-08T16:02:00.000-07:00

“Could this night be any more beautiful?”, I said to Molly as we slowly paced our way down the outdoor mall in downtown Salt Lake on a gorgeous fall evening. “I guess I spoke too soon.”, I quickly added as a hobo had started a bee line right for us from across the street. As courtesy dictates I stopped as he approached and quickly analyzed our new friend.
Having recently undertaken a new job in the narcotic capital of Utah (aside from Pioneer Park of course) and watched several episodes of intervention, I would say I'm somewhat versed in the world of drugees. I couldn't necessarily tell you what a high feels like (that wisdom teeth extraction was great, but I don't remember much) nor could I tell you which fix is most desirable, but throw a lineup in front of me and I'll pickout an addict in a heartbeat.
Bags under the eyes from an irregular sleeping schedule, check; stained and unkempt clothing from a wanton disregard for personal hygiene, check; baggy attire due to a recent weight loss, check; probably crack I thought to myself. “Can you spare a couple dollars so I can get a burger?”, he asked. Sure thing crack-head, you want money for a burger, I mumbled softly as I pulled a dollar from my pocket. “This is all I can spare my man.”, I said as I walked away. As soon as he was out of earshot I told my girlfriend how I wasn’t so sure how I felt about supporting others’ drug habits simply because of an equal opportunity giving policy I’d set for myself years ago. I have definitely entertained and essentially believed several different schools of thought on giving to beggars. There's the "They got themself into this mess." approach; the "I've seen at least a dozen help wanted signs in the last couple days." philosophy; and let us not forget the "I don't want to support someone else's bad habit." belief. I don't criticize anyone who holds said ideals, but I've come to be an advocate of the equal opportunity giving policy...giving (albeit sometimes reluctantly) to anyone who asks when I have something to give and letting the consequences take care of themselves.
"I guess he couldn't get too much for a buck anyways, right?", I said as we continued on to our destination. I quickly forgot about burger boy as I indulged in God’s most recent gift to humanity, chocolate dipped cheesecake on a stick. Exactly four bites later, a stain ridden triple XL t-shirt caught my attention out of the corner of my eye. Burger boy was back, but had added a new accessory…a McDonalds bag. Despite a full mouth of cheesecakey goodness I screamed, “He really did get a burger!” You know...sometimes they really do get a burger.

Til it is Gone

2008-03-01T06:08:00.000-08:00

So let's say (hypothetically of course) you enjoy a very active lifestyle, you go to the gym an average of four times a week and play basketball twice in the same period of time. Now...hypothetically....one day your playing basketball and a sharp pain begins to shoot up your back, to the point of which you can't even sit down without grimmacing, let alone run or jump. For the next WEEK your back-aching body is stuck doing stuff that back-aching bodies can do...ie eating, reading, watching tv, making weird blogs, and there is no sign of back releif in the near future. My best estimation would be that Mr/Ms back-aching body has a shift in paradigm. All of the sudden having a healthy body is the GREATEST blessing one could ask for. There's nothing in the world the compares to getting out of bed with the greatest of ease, throwing on some running shoes and going out for a jog. The most beautiful thing in life is running down a basketball court and pulling up for three. So...finally to the point...why is it that these blessings are only realized once they've been removed? Why don't I wake up after a breakup in a relationship and think, "Gee, my heart hurts, but isn't it wonderful to be able to walk?". Why, when stuck in traffic during a snow storm, don't I think, "Wow, it is wonderful to be sheltered and warm in the midst of this snow, can you imagine having to walk back home?" Surely, if our vehicle were to have a severe break down which we could not afford to immediately fix this blessing would be very evident. Even if we claim to realize these blessings prior to their removal I would have to believe it would be fleeting and quite rare. I think that our failure to recognize and appreciate these comforts and conveniences we enjoy allows us to become thankless, crass, and impatient. So what's the cure?...a cure is all but impossible, but progress is attainable. I think that in any moment of anger, self-pity, frustration, or depression we could train ourselves to look a little deeper...or even just look around and realize what we have. Perhaps in our thoughts or prayers we could take the time to realize the LUXURIES we enjoy every day but don't really take the time to be greatful for.