Considerate Recklessness or Rudely Considerate?

Writing about traffic, or driving stories is lame.

But I have to vent and rant.

I was driving down past Liberty Square Apartments with my friend Jessica the other day. We were following a black SUV and we were not following too closely. As we neared 500 North, the black SUV slammed on their brakes to a complete stop in the middle of the road. I am not the nicest driver, but sometimes, I wait and try to understand what's going on before I react. I did that in this case. I looked for a old lady with a cane walking across the street, or maybe a lost dog darting into the road or maybe someone was having a heart attack in the car; but there was no life-threatening or even important reason to brake unexpectedly. The driver of the black SUV stopped rapidly in the middle of the road to say hey to a couple friends unloading their car on the side of the road.

Once this came into realization, I reacted. I put my hands up in frustration and the friends of the black SUV started giving me scowling looks like I was the one who slammed on my brakes in the middle of the road. One of them then mimicked me and I began to lose my cool. I rolled the window down and we exchanged words. The guy was defending his friend for abruptly stopping in the middle of a busy road. Some people might call this "good friendship," but I call it pompous stupidity.

Another thing that happens to me constantly is what I call being "rudely considerate," or "considerate recklessness." In Provo, Utah, people have this weird obligation to stop their cars in the middle of the road for random jaywalking pedestrians. I don't know if these Provoans know that their cars are much faster than the jaywalkers, but someone should really teach them driving etiquette. I'll be standing on the side of the road nowhere near a cross walk, and the only car in sight will slam on their brakes in the middle of the road so that I can walk across the street. Where's the logic in that?

I understand if you're driving through a parking lot and people are walking all over the place. You should yield to the people because a parking lot is really just a big boardwalk to a store from your car. The walkers have the right-of-way. And yes, I know pedestrians always have the right-of-way, but why do people stop their cars from going 40 mph down a road to stop dangerously in traffic's way to "be considerate?"

That is not being considerate. It's dangerous and annoying. But the worst part about it is when I don't stop, I look like a jerk. How twisted is that? I refuse to being a sitting duck on a dangerous road, and I get glared at. It's not really fair.

But if you've been to Utah, you probably don't have sympathy for me. You could probably out-do any bad driving story I have here. This is the home of all the self-righteous, every-member-a-traffic-officer drivers. I have never seen people pull out in front of me to try and get me to obey the speed limit until I moved here. It's amazing, in a bad way.

So I am a pioneer in this pioneer-founded state. I will continue to not stop in the middle of the road for jaywalkers, I will continue flashing my brights at the slow drivers driving in the fast lane and I will continue to use my blinkers to let everyone around me know what I am doing with this Honda Civic going 40 mph. Logic is not overrated.

Just a bit of short story stuff

Unglued (Relationship)

The speakers were creaking an electronic twitch. That meant his phone was receiving a text message. Not again.

He had been sitting at his desk for hours thinking about how to phrase his thoughts on the blank letter lying in front of him. He was the kind of person who absorbed the sounds and feelings of the night, but did not let them distract him from his task. He would sit in his uncomfortable, black chair and listen to soft, psychedelic rock while he tried to come up with the words that would make her understand.

Damn it. Another text message.

He knew it was her wondering where he was. She wanted to come over and get food, or watch some useless MTV reality show, or maybe sit by the fire and talk about their future kids and what kind of baby food we would get them. Was she serious?

He dreaded almost every minute of their relationship. He was not even attracted to her anymore. But why? He used to have fun with her. He used to adore her. During their partisan-emotional pow-wows, she would often pry into his subconscious. Her mining always seemed to circle back to the night of that one concert. That concert where he played eye tag with the lead singer of this indie, semi-pop band known as Emerly. Something about her made him lose all sense of commitment. He didn’t think she noticed, but she obviously did.

Was he displacing his love for his girlfriend for the lead singer of an only-decent band he saw once in concert? Probably not, but maybe. It didn’t matter anyway; he stopped loving her regardless of the reason, and now it was time to end things and move on.

He put the black Zebra ballpoint to the paper and wrote, “I’m sorry. You want the kids to eat chicken and carrot baby food when I want them to eat beef and beans. We should stop seeing each other.”

As he dotted the period at the end of the sentence, he chuckled. How could he not chuckle? That sentence was possibly the most ridiculous thing he had ever written without Ambien in his body. But somehow he knew it would make sense to her. He felt like that was the way she would communicate a breakup to him.

He leaned back in his decade-old chair. His desk was not balanced and it made him slightly dizzy when he noticed it. His Hispanic neighbors’ profanity came out of his window like someone from the future would appear out of a portal; completely unexpected and unnecessary. Then his eyes fixed on his vanilla scented candle. Few things distracted him like a small, dancing flame. He slipped away into another world like many people do on Monday mornings at work when the visions of the previous weekend take them away. This imaginary place was his sanctuary; and once he stepped onto solid ground of his imagination, he saw her. It was the girl from Emerly. The girl he couldn’t help but play eye tag with even while his girlfriend was glaring at him. She was singing his favorite song and looking directly into his blue eyes.

Why do you hold back?
Oceans never end
There’s plenty of slack
Look around you, flex and bend

It’s time to leave
Your surroundings are bleak
You can find an exit
Just look to me; you’re not weak

She was wearing a simple striped, dark blue Polo shirt with tight jeans. Her brunette hair was blowing in the wind. There is always a faint breeze in his daydreams. She had squinting eyes and perfectly straight, white teeth. The different parts of her face fit together in near-perfect harmony. Her skin was half as dark as a Greek’s, which made her look like she had just returned from a week in the Florida Keys everyday. She pulled the microphone close to her lush lips, and she sang deep and passionately. The speakers vibrated the entire room with her synthetic lyrics. Her eyes never left his. He did not want the song to end. But as the song faded out, she reached out her hand and said, “I need to tell you something.”

“Yes?” he anxiously asked.

“Can you keep a secret? This is something only you and I can know.”

“Yes, of course. What is it?” I asked.

Brrrrrr. The speakers blared with careless, static destruction. It was another text message. And of course, if must be her. Why doesn’t she just stop?

He leaned over his desk to finally look at his cell phone’s screen. 3 new text messages. He knew it was her. He would put a year’s worth of chicken and carrot baby food on it. The first message read: “Hey babe, call me! Let’s get some food and eat it by the fire.” The next message read: “Hey call me, we need to talk.” And the final message read: “We should see other people.”

For some reason, he did not jump up and celebrate like he would if the NCAA disposed of the BCS for a tournament style post-season. He felt a churning, burning sensation in the bottom half of his heart. He knew the problem had resolved itself, but somehow another slightly larger problem had made itself manifest. It’s hard to let a part of you and your past drown. He felt like he was sitting in a small boat that had a hole in it while crossing a vast lake. He used a bucket to empty as much water as he could, but the water continued to relentlessly board the boat. What can you do? He did not know.

As he thought about what he should do, his blue eyes caught the dancing nancy flickering on the wick and he flew away again. This time it wasn't to see the girl from Emerly; he appeared in his metaphoric boat on the vast lake. It was beautiful. And of course, there was a faint, lake breeze. But his hand was gripping something. What the he...? He looked down and saw a pole with an eight pound line and a hook with a squirmy worm on it. He smiled and cast. I love fishing, he thought. In the amount of time it takes to get bored watching golf, the line jerked. His instinct took over and he pulled in a fish. But once that fish was in his boat, he jumped to the opposite side of the boat causing the boat to almost capsize. That was not a fish.

It was a fish's body with his girlfriend's face. He was scared and confused, but more curious than anything as he creped toward the silver, scaly fish. When he got close enough to see the fish's personified face, he noticed she was crying. In that moment, he somehow bypassed the fact that his girlfriend had a fish's body, and he told her he was sorry. She said she was sorry, too. They talked for a little while and came to a good understanding. As the sun was saying good night, they were saying their goodbyes. He picked her up and lowered her into the lake. She immediately dove deep into the lake and out of polarized sight. As he sat in the boat, he had an epiphany...

Brrr. The speakers were crackling again. He jumped in his chair because the transition from that daydream was difficult. Is she texting me again? he thought, no longer feeling sympathetic towards their breakup. He looked at his cell phone once more expecting to see the words of his ex-girlfriend, but he was relieved to see it was not her. It was his friend informing him that Emerly was going to be having a show that weekend. He did not mind the speakers creaking this good news. He wondered how much the tickets would be, but it didn't matter; he loved seeing Emerly.

Dumbledore is a natural at flicking his hand, not because he's an extraordinary wizard; it's because he is gay

It was announced this week that Professor Dumbledore from the beloved Harry Potter series is a homosexual. This is great news -- For the gay community! For the rest of us, this is a tragic discovery.

Many people- straight and gay -are very upset about this news. I think its obvious why the straight community is mad. A role model, a child's icon is suddenly a drastically different person. The gay community (I'm speculating here) is upset because of the practically non-existent prescense this very relative (to them) piece of information is to the story.

J. K. Rowling escapes the critism and resentment of this colorful addition to her popular series by saying that Dumbledore's sexual preference had nothing to do with the context of the story. (I agree.) As much as we all want to know everything about the world of Harry Potter, there are things that aren't important. Knowing that Dumbledore was gay would only cause 14 year old boys to laugh and cause orthodox Christians to dislike the books even more than they already do. Everyone else would be completely indifferent. But mostly just because it wouldn't change the story. I think Rowling left it out because she didn't want people to read into anything involving Dumbledore's sexual orientation because it would detract from the story. And it would distracting because being gay is wrong and the controversies surrounding living an alternative lifestyle are rampant in our society. (The power that the gay community- one of the smallest minorities in our country- possess is scary.)

My real personal opinion is that this is something to drag out the Harry Potter craze for a little while longer. That's what she said. Or he said.

3rd Degree Disappointment

This is a more personal, stream-of-thought blog.

Last night around midnight, I found out that the girl I was crazy about was no longer moving to my city in January like she had planned. I had made plans revolving around her since meeting her in this summer. This news came with great shock and bitter disappointment. I had tried my best to not get my hopes up, because like in the past, I always get burned. I wouldn't classify this as "getting burned," but it feels very similar. I definitely had my hopes up.

The past two years have been great! I got off my LDS mission in December 0f 2005, and I immediately enrolled at the University of South Carolina as a biology major (I eventually switched to an English major). The two semesters at USC were not my favorite. I struggled socially and academically (I think they are connected - even though I would like to think they weren't). Over the summer, I moved to Cleveland, Ohio and worked for a dirty, unethical sales company called Firstline (who I hate now). I don't regret that summer, because I learned a lot of valuable things, but those experiences did cost me. Then after my second (socially miserable) semester as USC, I debated moving back to Utah to go to school. Everything about that option seemed good, so I did it. I left early from a family reunion in Myrtle Beach, SC on December 29 to drive through the wet, gradually decreasing temperatures of the South, the icy blizzards of the Midwest (I hate Kansas), and the towering, thin-aired terrain of the Rockies.

Driving through Soldier Summit at 95 mph, I realized this was the right decision; although, it could have been the adrenaline or the lack of oxygen at 6,000 feet above sea level. I spent the night that night with my friend Jacob because my housing complex wasn't allowing new tenants until the next day. Since being here, I've come to found out that I have the best friends in the world. Jessica, Devin, TK, Jacob, Dunn, Van, John, Kofoed, Leanna, Ben, Dan, Stuart, Joe, Nikki, Jessie, Cole, Edward, Kevin, Nathan, Paige, Jeremy, Sweet Pumpkin (April), Mary, and Haley. From the second I pulled into the Utah county, I have experienced nothing but fun, peace and happiness. There has not been a single disappointment for the past 11 months (since the cruise with naked Ashley- I'll tell that story another time). That's why this is so hard I think.

And now I face another decision in my life -- what the crap do I do now? I could easily roll over on this and decide this is my sign from God that we aren't meant to be. Or I could get depressed, and take out my frustration on her; or worse, on one of my other friends. I could never call her again and just get over it. I could feel taken advantage of (that's happened before) and retaliate against her. I could get over-anxious and try to change her mind by calling her too much and forcing a tighter bond to be made. But that would just make her like me less and probably make me repulsive and annoying.

All of those ideas are bad options. My real options are: 1) End things nonchalantly and still be "friends." But not good friends, because I'll start to like her again, of course. We still live in different cities, so we would only talk maybe once a month or something like that. 2) Continue to be good friends, like we are now, but without the guaranteed future. There would be a mutual understanding that there is a slim chance of a future together. But on my end, I would have to drop the emotional attachments or more accurate, the emotional hope. And lastly, 3) Endure. Realize that neither of us are even ready to get close to being serious with anyone. I can do my thing which is getting school done, saving money and keeping busy. She can do her thing which I don't think she even knows what "her thing" is. I think her best option now is to go on a mission. I didn't like this idea at first, but i think it's her best choice now. Let time go by and hopefully, that will give us both the answers we are looking for. Maybe she goes on a mission, I write her the whole time, and things get better than ever when she gets back. Maybe we go separate ways and both live happy lives despite veering off our projected life plan.

My real problem now is that I don't know how committed she ever was. I feel like that should have a major influence on this decision, but in reality, it doesn't. She wouldn't make this decision if she was as committed as I am (was). So I guess now I sit back, pray a bunch, and try to understand what I should do. And then do it.

CK: Sarcastic Enjoyment

I am halfway through my third Chuck Klosterman book. You might have never heard of Chuck; although, you have probably read something he wrote. He writes for everyone and I can almost guarantee you have stumbled upon some of his stuff. He writes (or has written for) ESPN, Esquire, GQ, Spin, The New York Times Magazine, The Washington Post, and many, many others. I have read most of his books: Fargo Rock City, Chuck Klosterman IV: A Decade of Curious People and Dangerous Ideas and I am devouring Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs. Next I will read his first book (I've kind of gone in a reversed chronological order) Killing Yourself To Live.

This man is a genius. He has this laid-back, sarcastic but lovable way of writing. He can be so prude and forthright, but still make you crack a smile. His description of things are so good and mostly biased. But he is openly biased and doesn't try to make an argument over his opinion. He likes to tell you how he sees it and how he thinks it should be, and then says, "Take it or leave it. I could be wrong; I'm probably right. Whatev." That mentality reminds me a lot of my friend Jacob. Maybe that's why he is gorging on IV after his CK discovery.

I'll be Frank (but I'm really Josh), CK likes some pretty dang horrible music. Glam rock? Really? But I have to respect his tenacity when it comes to his ear candy. He portrays KISS and Motley Crue and all those other ridiculously flagrant bands in a way that makes me not hate them. In fact, I have given some of them a chance and, I'll be honest, I still didn't really like them. But the point is, CK gave me a perspective I had never thought of before. He showed me a part of humanity and pop culture that I would never had experienced had I not been forced to read Fargo Rock City, then cautiously read IV and then hurriedly been read Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs.

CK is an interesting person; there's no denying that. And whether his ideas or theories are agreeable to you or not, you have to admit his perspective helps you understand whatever ya'll are talking about. Almost everything I've learned from CK, I have not regret learning.

Chuck Klosterman

I watched CSPAN...For like 12 minutes!

I really, really dislike television. I love some of the programs that air on television, but as far as the concept of television in our society goes, I do not like it. On average, I channel surf about once every couple weeks for no longer than 30 minutes. And it's not that I don't like commercials. And it's not that I think TV is hazardous in any way, and it's not that I think "there is nothing on." (there is always something on -- Starship Toopers is literally always on) I just think it is squalid to have your life revolve around something aesthetically pleasing, but frankly, selfishly extra-curricular as a television show. (Now I am a hypocrite because I silence the house and stare at the television with anticipation and utter glee at 8PM every Thursday for The Office -- "That's what she said") But in my defense, it is The Office. How can you not have a Jim and Pam relationship-leech addiction after watching some it?

Now I could go on for hours about TV and The Office (and Starship Troopers because its on all the time), but I want to say what happened yesterday while I was bored. I channel surfed. I have no idea what channels are what or what programs come on when; I just know the basics.

So I came across CSPAN. No one likes CSPAN. I can't think of more than 3 reasons why that station exists. Anyway, I flipped right past it, but the 7/13 of a second clip caught my eye (and my ear). I pushed the down button to go back to it and then I watched CSPAN. For like 12 minutes! It was actually entertaining. But it was not the normal CSPAN old-guy-talking-slow-at-a-podium-marathon. It was a British version.

At least for me, everything becomes more entertaining when a British accent is thrown into the mix. With CSPAN, I heard the politicians talk instead of experiencing the epitome of white noise. What was torture for me yesterday, became entertainment to me the next because of a slight alteration in the way the politicians were communicating. I guess little things do make big differences.

(And instead of clapping or giving a standing ovation after the speaker makes a point where others agree, like we do here in the US; the British politicians all, in disharmony, chant "Aye aye aye!" It is the funniest thing I have ever seen; except, for when Dwight runs into a telephone poll giving him a concussion, and causing him to act weirder than he usually acts. The Office @ 8PM on Thursday nights)

Guru's: Method of Resolution

I was at a nice, little sandwich wrap place eating what looked like a jungle wrapped up in a orange tortilla. I still can't figure out why the wrap was orange, or why my jungle wrap sort of tasted like a panther. I don't know if I'll go back to this (Guru's). It looked like a really happy, industrial version of Dr. Seuss. I'll probably try it again just because of they way it looked. Anyway, my friends and I were talking about stocks, globalization and a possible exit strategies with the war in Iraq (we were really talking about sports, The Office and quoting lines from Anchorman), when my friend Stuart brought up a good point. He said something along the lines of, "Girls are irrational. When a problem comes up, instead of thinking of a good possible resolution, they work up in their minds the most irational responses. And then stand by it regardless of how crazy it may be."

For example, Stuart meets a girl. Stuart likes this girl, and to his surprise, this girl likes him back. But there's a problem: This girl has a boyfriend. Stuart makes a bet with friends involving the girl. Girl texts him, "I know I have a boyfriend, but I'd really like to get to know you better." (Score!) Stuart shows his friends the text after making the bet. Friends lose hope in winning the bet. Stuart then hangs out with girl a lot (every day for a week). Then girl shows signs of creepy-ness and insanity. Girl tells Stuart she loves him and blah blah blah. Time goes by; Stuart has his mom drive him 3 hours to go to a frat party with girl (that part makes me laugh everytime I think about it). Stuart has no desire to go to the frat party, but goes anyway because she wants to go. He sits alone at a frat party where he doesn't know anyone for some time. Girl is off mingling with friends (and flirting with other guys like it's her job) as Stuart sits in a corner of a foreign frat house in college town where he only knows one person: the girl that is mingling with friends (and flirting like she's a fly that only has 24 hours to mate and reproduce before she dies). Stuart gets fed up (as he should) and decides to go back to the dorms. Not long after getting comfortable and watching some TV, the girl calls him mad and yelling. (Maybe he should have told her he was leaving? Yes, but maybe she should have involved him so he didn't want to leave in the first place) A fight ensues as soon as girl gets back to dorm. Girl now hates Stuart because...(think about the severity of his sin)...he left a frat party he didn't want to be at because the only person he knew (she "loved" him, remember?) ignored him as he sat alone in a weird house with Greek letters on it.

The problem was bad communication. Obviously, Stuart and the girl had different ideas of how this frat party was going to play out. But when that realization hit them both, they reacted differently. Very differently. (Maybe this next part is biased because I'm a guy, but hopefully its not. Hopefully, its how everyone should act.) Stuart was confused and slightly hurt by the frat party experience. The girl was enraged and bitter about the frat party experience. Stuart's reaction or method of resolution: Talk about it. Work things out. Girl's method of resolution: Hate Stuart. Close up and show no emotion or inkling of a desire to resolve things.

Maybe it's just me, but I think Stuart's method was more rational. (And if nothing else, more civil and respectful.) Stuart found out the hard way this girl was less than sane. Maybe next I'll try and figure out "why" girls tend to be irrational (not all the time, but a lot). Wait, wait....no I'm not going to try and figure that out. That doesn't sound fun at all! I'm just going to stop digging the grave, even if it is a little shallow. I'd rather deal with the little problems, then dig any deeper.