Saturday Observations III.ii

In the store the other day, this old lady came up to me and said, “You need to buy a shotgun”. I thought she was then going to tell me the world was going to soon end (such people are pretty common in my part of the world). But instead she looked at Gemma and said, “In about ten years, you’re going to need it.” I’ve got to admit, it was the first time I’ve ever agreed with someone telling me I needed a firearm (and people tell me that pretty regularly out here in the Goshe).

Speaking of which, you need to read this article on my lovely town.

The Missus recently got a new job at the MTC. Isn’t that fantastic? The best part (amongst all the many good parts): she gets to eat in the Empty Sea cafeteria every day. To say that I’m jealous would be a huge understatement.

Currently I’m listening to the Harry Potter books. I love them. One question: Do real life versions of Dudley Dursley and Draco Malfoy enjoy reading the Harry Potter series?

If you’ve never listened to this song, you should.

I want to be Professor Higgins when I grow up.

Saturday Observations I.ii

1. I cooked rolls.  The house didn’t explode or burn down.  However, they were below average at best.
2. My new favorite football team: the University of Virginia.
3. When the Mrs. and I drive together, I realize how different our music listening tastes are.  I like to listen to good music.  She likes to listen to Taylor Swift music.
4. Recent movie I like: Bridge of Spies.  I wouldn’t mind a rewatch.
5. Something’s come over me recently (perhaps it’s the seasonal spirit), but I no longer despise the University of Utah.  I mean, I still get really excited when they lose, but the disgust that accompanies their winning has almost completely vanished.
6. I tell you what I do detest though:  Pop Christmas music.  Hate it.
7. The other day one of the teachers at the Payson High School asked who would be on my presidential Mt. Rushmore.  I don’t know.  I have two: Washington and Lincoln, but then who?  Democrats might say FDR, Republicans might say TR or Reagan.  I’m not sold on any of them.  I’ll let you know when I have an answer.     
8. I will not cheer for Steph Curry.   

Saturday Observations

I.i

 

1. I have watched a total of two Spurs games this year. They lost both games. Last game I watched live before this: Game Six of the 2013 Finals. Lesson learned: I will not watch again.

 

2. We have tried several different rehabilitation programs, but I’m afraid the solution still alludes us. The Mrs. simply cannot break her Diet Coke addiction.

 

3. There’s a lot of people out there who don’t like Bronco Mendenhall. I’m not one of them.

 

4. Oliver (that’s the name of my oldest son who will therefore inherit all of my fortune upon my death) has smiled more in his seven months of life than I have in my 34 years of life. Must be a Quesenberry trait.

 

5. Along those lines, one of my students this week, after seeing me smiling in my wedding picture, asked: “Why don’t you smile anymore?” I told her the picture was fake.

 

6. Along those lines, I watched the movie Inside Out with the Mrs. recently. I loved it. It explains why smiling’s overrated.

 

7. I believe I have officially matured (after a fashion). Reason: This year I’m looking more forward to seeing my kids open their presents than I am for me to open my presents.

 

8. Now that I’m a college graduate, married, and semi-gainfully employed, I have a new life goal: Complete hair school. Serious.

 

9. I’m in a choir. We have a Christmas concert December 17-19. You should come. It should be bearable.

 

10. As I write, I am cooking rolls for the first time in my life. I hope that the house doesn’t explode and/or that the Mrs. doesn’t die of shock.

Gemma Grace

If you didn’t know, I have a daughter.  Her name is Gemma (spelled with a “G” because that’s how the British spell it and I want to be British).  She’s approximately two years, five months, and 29 days old. 

The Missus has requested I write a post about this daughter of ours.  I hesitate to do this because most of the time when I see posts about kids who are not mine, I absolutely do not care (no offense).  However, as you well know, the Missus’ wish is my command. 

Thus,

Here are twelve things you should know about Gemma with a “G”.

1.       Her fingers are almost as long as Holden’s (who is six by the way).  It’s true, Scout’s honor. 

2.       She does not like it when I sing.  99.3 percent of the time, if I start singing, she says “Stop Daddy.”  (That .7 percent is when she wants to delay her bedtime).

3.       She’s obsessed with this British TV show called Peppa Pig.  (We’d never heard of it, but she found it one day while surfing the Internet.)  I don’t care too much about the show, but I am really proud of her for discovering high end British culture at such a young age.

4.       She can almost put her leg behind her head.  She likes to practice when she’s bored, but she can’t quite do it yet.  Maybe next week.

5.       My favorite phrase of hers:  “Let’s talk about it,” which is said whenever I suggest doing something she doesn’t want to do (i.e. turn off the TV, go to bed).

6.       She calls almost everybody her friends, but she generally doesn’t like to be around people.  Although she’s slowly warming up to her cousins, usually when given the choice, she’ll choose to play be herself.  It makes me proud.

7.       She can sense when people are on my bad list (which is fairly long, by the way) and she won’t talk to them if they try to talk to her.  Honest.

8.       People say she looks like me.  I don’t see it, but I do like to think my hair would be like hers if most of it hadn’t already fallen out.

9.       I hope she becomes a swimmer.

10.   A highlight of most of my days is when I get home and she runs over to me saying “Daddy, Daddy” and gives me a big hug.    

11.   Since I had to wait until I was almost 32 before my first child was born, I feel like I enjoy her presence more than a lot of people who had children when they were in their 20’s (or earlier).  So those of you who have to wait even longer than I did, I can only imagine how much you’re going to enjoy those moments.  Believe me, it is definitely worth the wait.

12.   When Gemma is around, everything in the world is better.

And that’s all. 

Music

I like music. I enjoy occasionally trying my hand at the piano or singifying. I even used to occasionally scratch out a tune on the violin in my younger years.

However, much more than I enjoy trying to produce something that borders on musicality, I really, really, really love listening to music.

Which makes me wonder, why do we people like listening to music so much?  I mean, my students' ear buds are practically glued in their ears 24/7.  I'm not very smart so I don't know all the answers to that question, but I feel like one reason might be because music is a great communicator. Words by themselves are pretty good at expressing how we feel . . . sometimes. And they say a picture is worth a thousand words so pictures are obviously very adept at communicating certain ideas (unless they’re the pictures my U.S. History students drew, in which case very little, if anything, is communicated except, “Mr. Wright, this is so boring”.)

But I feel like music is more powerful than pictures or words alone. If a good picture is worth a thousand words, then good music is worth about 563 pictures. When all else fails, it seems like there’s always a song that expresses exactly how I feel.

Here are five of my favorites. They say what I never could.

Song One:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DvSVkHbLJVA 

Song Two:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P9Fe8Y3nehU      

Song Three:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7acNrYXd4zg

Song Four:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lxe0h5zxynA

Song Five:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0BN-b0_1gl4

Author’s Note: Recently, after suffering through my musical tastes for two years, a couple of my students asked me if I ever listened to normal music. I told them no.
   

This week I’ve been thinking about how unfair life sometimes is.  For example, a teenager I know was recently in a terrible car accident.   The accident was not her fault and she came out alright, but the person in the other car died as a result.  I have a hard time understanding what she must be experiencing and the thoughts that must sometimes run through her head because of the accident.  And to be honest, I have a hard time understanding why she has to endure this when the biggest concerns of many her age are what to eat for lunch or whom to ask to the upcoming dance.    

Similar stories of how life can be tragic for some seem to always be around. 

Boyd K. Packer once said, “Life was never meant to be either easy or fair.” (“And a Little Child Shall Lead Them”, April 2012). 

But why?  Why isn’t life fair?  I understand that we all need trials.  But why does it seem like some people experience trials so much harder than what others experience?  It seems that at every age level there are inequities.  In my high school teaching, I see teenagers who struggle with these things every day.  And sometimes it’s seemingly simple problems, not the horrible tragedies, which make me wonder the most.  Boys question why others are more athletic or funny.  Girls wonder why they aren’t more pretty or personable. 

Well, my answer to all of these questions: I don’t know. 

At least for now.

But some day I will.  And that will be a wonderful day.  As Emily Dickinson wrote:

“I shall know why, when time is over,    

 And I have ceased to wonder why;         

Christ will explain each separate anguish              

In the fair schoolroom of the sky.            

 

He will tell me what Peter promised,            

And I, for wonder at his woe,    

I shall forget the drop of anguish             

That scalds me now, that scalds me now.”

(Poems of Emily Dickinson, p. 93)

Or, as Jeffrey R. Holland said, “It will be all right in the end. Trust God and believe in good things to come.” (“An High Priest of Good Things to Come”, Oct 1999)

So that’s what I’ll try to do. 

Gone on Vacation

The family decided to abandon me for two weeks and journey to the South.  I remain here guarding the home from whatever mischief might arise (which, let’s be honest, considering I live in the Goshen. could be any number of things). 

After five days, let me observify:

- I never really enjoyed being single when I was single.  It’s even worse being single when I’m married.

- Do you think my mother would be annoyed if I brought her my laundry?

- This is the longest I’ve gone without being around the Gem.  Sad.  (Don’t worry, I have tissues right here).

- I eat a lot of junk food when the Mrs. is around.  Double that when she’s gone.

- On a positive note, there is something exciting about being free to do whatever I want.  (Actually, the excitement wore off about three and half days ago, but it was nice while it lasted).

- I’m still trying to figure out what I’m going to do for meals for the next nine days.  I mean, I love McDonald’s and all, but three times a day for nine days is a little much.  Maybe I’ll throw an Arby’s visit in here and there.

- Another positive note: I don’t have to clean for two full weeks.  (Which is not unusual, it’s just that for these two weeks I don’t have to feel guilty about not cleaning).

- Now that I think about it, maybe my neighbors will invite me over for dinner (although hopefully that dinner isn’t laced with some sort of drugs).

- Once you have kids, life is incredibly boring without them.

- On video chat I told Holden I was sad I didn’t get to read to him at nights.  His response, “Well, that’s just the way it has to be.” (Considering his time in “timeout” goes way down when I’m not around, I think he’s more than content giving up the occasional bedtime story).

- No but really, what do I do if my mom won’t do my laundry?

- Another observation: This Mrs. thinks I don’t like to be told what to do, which is true on the surface. However, this week I’ve realized that deep down I do like to be told what to do, otherwise I just walk around the house eating candy and wondering what I should do next.

- I sure do miss them.