Self-Esteem on a Stick

I recently purchased a new stick of deodorant. Normally I'm pretty conservative when it comes to deodorant (none of this Axe business), but as I scanned the various scents on Monday, I encountered an opportunity way too good to pass up. This flavor of Old Spice's RED ZONE line is called "Swagger". A careful reading of the banner near the top of the stick indicates that Swagger is indeed The Official Scent of Confidence. And to think I'd been living a timid, bashful, and hesitant life when the cure was right there on the Wal-Mart shelves. And for those skeptics among you, let me just say this. Since I've started using Swagger, my confidence has doubled, nay, tripled. Not since Orange-Orange VitaminWater has my life been so profoundly impacted by a consumer product. I encourage any of you who may be shy, nervous, or fearful to pick up a stick and try it for yourself!

Media

I've always been intrigued by the way entertainers consistently deny responsibility for the messages they propagate. Charles Barkley is famously quoted (albeit out of context) for asserting that athletes aren't role models. The latest edition in this saga of moral abdication is found in this week's TIME (March 3 Issue, p. 8). In a Q&A session, rapper-actor-entrepreneur Sean Combs, aka P. Diddy, Puffy, etc., was asked the following question:

Do you feel the culture of vanity in rap and hip-hop has given young people a skewed reality of what is important in life?

His interesting response:

"A lot of things affect people's views if they let their views be affected. A weak-minded person who was going to do something negative or be vain was going to do that whether it was the music or somebody else that affected him."

Essentially, our friend Puffy is saying that yes, the culture of vanity (and worse!) in rap and hip-hop does have the potential to alter a young person's perception of what is important in life, but the responsibility rests entirely on that inexperienced young person to discern what is real and what is important. We will spend our careers making the hip-hop lifestyle appear enticing, normal, fulfilling, and realistic, but that's no reason for the youth to think that it really is. We can't be held responsible for their thinking that it is.

I believe this is why it's so important for each of us to take full responsibility for the voices we allow to influence our lives. If we allow ourselves to be deceived, we can't expect to be able to shift the blame to anyone else. No one out in the world is taking pains to ensure we're not led astray, so we can't be expecting them to.

Balance

On Wednesday, I tried cross-country skiing, and this was the result.

The Cali

This weekend, the team decided to take a road trip to Baker, California. Arrangements were made, food was gathered, playlists were assembled, and applicants were screened. We left Friday afternoon and reached the Baker area later that night. As we approached the greater Baker metro area, we suddenly remembered that Baker is the least desirable place on the planet. Change of plans. The committee decided to change course and head to Ontario, Cali to spend some quality time with the Pratts. The Wildcat and the Wilde brothers rolled in at about 1:30 am. After a good night's sleep and a sumptuous breakfast, Saturday morning was spent enjoying traffic (Lisa claims to actually enjoy being stuck in L.A. traffic) and hobnobbing at the J. Paul Getty Center. I was most impressed with a work by James Ensor called Christ's Entry into Brussels in 1889. I loved the way he captured mankind's tendency to focus on the trappings of monumental events rather than the true impact they have. The Getty itself is a great work of art, accentuating the natural hilltop features nicely and implying a Mediterranean ambiance. It would be cool to hang out there even if there were no art on display. If you go there, be sure to check out the rebar trees. I liked them.

Lunch was In-N-Out in Hollywood. The highlight for me was meeting local skate legend Vrazil (both he and the tat on his chest said that was his name) and checking out a few of his moves. Dude's got it. Then we went to the beach next to Santa Monica pier, and just soaked it all in. I've never lived next to a beach, but I'd be down there every day if I lived there. Jesse showed us the beginnings of a promising modeling career, and Shannon from Texas played her first game of football in 20+ years. Brady introduced us to The Claw, and Jen and I had a dramatic cousin moment. Then it was to Roscoe's House of Chicken and Waffles for dinner. In earlier posts, I have documented my efforts at cultural diversity. Roscoe's tops them all. I don't think I've ever been as much of an ethnic minority as I was at Roscoe's, not even when I was on my mission to Uruguay. Surprisingly, the waffles - fried chicken combo is delicious. I'm pretty sure it was all organic, so don't worry about it. Saturday night ended with some more hanging with the Pratts. Bob keeps a straight face during all his jokes, and Mary never stops smiling. They are such beautiful people! (The Heecups)

Sunday was church, a gorgeous nap outside by the pool, and singing around the piano. Later we went to the impressive L.A. temple. The temple's unabashed prominence imposes a degree of spiritual tranquility on an otherwise secular and misguided locale. I love the temple for what it represents. Sunday in Cali was for me what it always should be: a day of complete physical and spiritual renewal.

Monday began with a delicious breakfast and some difficult goodbyes. The Pratts pumped us full of love the whole time we were there, and it was difficult to leave them. We left feeling fulfilled and rejuvenated. The trip from Ontario to Las Vegas was uneventful with one notable exception. Jolyn demonstrated her talent and versatility by successfully catching and holding 30 red seedless grapes in her mouth. If this is difficult to visualize, I refer you to the YouTube clips on blowfish. Truly a remarkable performance on her part.

Our stop in Sin City was filled with extreme contrasts. The beauty and precision of the Bellagio fountain show contrasted with the moral ugliness of the Strip. Jenna's confidence and self-assurance as she performed on the street contrasted with the insecurity and inner confusion apparent on the faces of most of the people who passed us on the streets. We had to stop at the last In-N-Out before Utah, and I had a 4x4 for the first time (I totally endorse it). I realize looking back that I spent most of the drive down and the drive home singing along to the iPod without ever really knowing the words to the songs. I'd like to use this blog as the outlet for my sincere apology to everyone who rode in the car. We finally rolled back into freezing Provo Monday night at about 11:30, eager to be cold again and get back to that homework.

Diversity

One of the biggest knocks on me recently has been my apparent lack of diversity. I'm a single white male from a field of study that few (besides me) find interesting. I don't make special efforts to follow the crowd and fit in, but when I look at everyone around me, I can't help but think that what truly makes me unique is my sameness - how much I am just like the next guy. In school, when they have you take the standardized tests, there's always a section where they ask you your ethnicity. I feel so boring and uncreative having to check "White/Caucasian" all the time. First of all, I don't think any of my ancestors came from Caucasia, or wherever. My ancestors are from like, Idaho. Second of all, I don't think "White/Caucasian" is an acceptable term in today's politically correct environment. If anything, I'd like to be known as a Caucasian-American. Thirdly, I don't think race should even be an issue in this election. I'm not a race candidate.

Improved diversity was one of the major reasons why Tyler and I embarked on The Great American Road Trip this summer. We really made some efforts to be cultural as we made our way through Wyoming, South Dakota, The South, etc.

If Waffle House grits don't make a man ethnic, I don't know what can. And this, nation, is where I need your help. Can you think of ways for me to be more diverse?

Parenting?

Recently I've been thinking about the way parents often live out their insecurities through their children. You see it a lot with parents who micromanage their children's lives in order to help them "succeed". Sometimes the kids like it, and I guess that works for them. It seems, though, that many of these parents have some deep-seated insecurities that impel them to push their kids' success so they (the parents) can feel validated. I'm concerned when parents act more like their children's promoters than their parents. I hope that when I'm a parent, I'll be secure enough that I won't need to pin my own self-esteem on my kids' level of achievement. I'll help them succeed, obviously, and I'll teach them excellence, but I won't need their successes to build me up. When they succeed, it'll be their success, based on their efforts.

Revival

It's tempting to try and offer some reason or explanation for why the blog hasn't been updated since June, but I'm just not going to. The purpose of Headlong Into the Blue (formerly known as Jae and Tyler's Excellent American Adventure, or something like that) is to provide some documentation to posterity that we actually existed, and so our kids will know that we didn't just get weird when we got old. We've always been like this.

We recently made a trip to the Four Corners, the point where Utah, Arizona, New Mexico and Colorado all meet. I've been trying to think, and I'm not aware of a more useless and unimportant destination in all the United States. Obviously it was imperative for us to visit it. Just about any road trip to Four Corners would have been a spectacular success, but this one was even more so since we convinced The Boy to come along. As we set out, our objectives were simple: We wanted to end up at Four Corners, we wanted to do cool stuff on the way down, and we didn't want to be restricted by a structured plan. Every objective was met triumphantly, and we ended up seeing not only the famed Four Corners, but also world-famous Dead Horse Point and the Utah classic, Delicate Arch. A delicious pizza rendezvous in Blanding sealed the victory (not just the best pizza in Blanding, the only pizza!). Also, Kaylene got to meet a real life drawing of a kit fox.

The real value of the trip was seeing several hours' worth of territory that should be uninhabited but for some reason isn't. It is kind of surprising to see people living in some of these places, but they do for some reason. Small-town folk have always fascinated me for that reason.

Weekend of July 16-17

The theme of this weekend was Trying to Fit Everything In. Abby Monson was in town for her brother's wedding, so we hung out Saturday night before she enters the MTC on Wednesday. She's headed to the Balkan States Mission, for those of you who don't read the tabloids. This is a psychedelic picture she took of the DC temple coming down from Maryland. Since we got lost taking her sister Rachel to a friend's house in Maryland after the wedding dinner, we got to spend several hours in the car with Tammy. At some points, things got a little desperate. The picture on the right is of me coming in second place in our Who Can Sing the Highest Contest. I was only about one and a half steps lower than her, and I'm a bass. After all was said and done, and we'd finally found her hotel and said our goodbyes, it was five a.m. when I rolled back into Manassas.

The best part was, I was teaching Sunday School and directing the choir at Church that day! Luckily, the Lord magnifies us, and everything went well. I doubt any of our Union Mill Ward Choir members check the blog, but if any of you are reading, you are stallions. Things are sounding so good, despite the ineptitude of the director. We'll be singing I Know That My Redeemer Lives on Sunday, and I'm so excited for it. Overall, it was a memorable weekend.

Silence is not the same as Death

Many of you have speculated as to whether Tyler and I are dead, or worse, not selling. Both rumors are false. We are here in Manassas, VA, existing and selling pest control. We don't really have time to do anything other than sell pest control and exist. I should probably stop saying "we", since we're already spending way too much time together, and there's been some concern that we're becoming a missionary companionship or a common-law marriage. The picture, by the way, is one Megan took of us at the Waffle House in Cookeville, Tennessee (it's in The South). Waffle House is probably the best example of southern culture that I know of. It was there that I tried grits for the first time (they were good, just a little too buttery) and I also learned about the phrase "youns". I would recommend that particular Waffle House as a priority destination on any trip through the South/East. That's the update for now. More will follow, because we're not dead.

In the Beginning

Since we know that so many of you have been anxiously asking yourselves, "How can my life go on without Tyler and Jae now that the semester's over?", we've decided to create this blog to keep you posted on our summer adventures. The adventure begins Saturday morning, April 28, 2007, as Jae embarks from Sandy to pick up Tyler in Casper and launch The Great American Road Trip. We invite you to follow our progress as we journey to Northern Virginia and provide invaluable pest control service to the people there. Your comments are most welcome.