Clyde The Glide Drexler

Honestly, who in the heck has there ever been in the NBA who dunks from the corner of the key DURING A GAME! Clyde the Glide, that's who.

ESPN has him as the sixth best shooting guard ever:



























Behold some of his dunks. Of particular note is how high and far the guy can soar. That last dunk (#1) is an in-game dunk - in traffic - from just inside the free throw line. Amazing. He's my all-time favorite athlete.

Where oh where is my stimulus check

Has anyone received their stimulus check yet? I hate to sound desperate but with Wes's car driving less reliably than a wild hog I really need the cash for a new one. I went on this website to see when it's coming and it keeps saying later and later. First it was the 29th of April, then the 5th of May, now who knows . . .

Maybe it's the government's way of dangling a carrot in front of the horse to keep it plugging along, paying those astronomical health care bills and absurd gas prices without complaint, because he's distracted and excited about the carrot.

I want to have my carrot and eat it too.

Boy or Girl?

The other day, the cashier at the grocery store referred to Holden as a "she."

And then today, one of our lot techs asked if he were a boy or a girl.

What!?! This little bite of manliness?
How could there ever be confusion?
Ok so maybe I do dress him in yellow and seafoam green. But seriously! It's not like he has his ears pierced or wears bows stuck with honey in his hair - for C.O.L. He's doesn't go around wearing a dress!
He really doesn't appreciate gender confusion. It offends his sensibilities.

But we finally laughed it off at Wes's softball game.

"Yeah, I'm a steamroller, baby! I'm bound to roll all over you."

There we were, trying to have a lovely conversation with our dear friends, the Leggats - making plans for seeing Rey Deohed perform in L.A. and visiting the Happiest Place on Earth.
Meanwhile, our awesome conversation was being interrupted by this rolling thing on the ground.
The more we spoke, the more he rolled. Finally we had to give him some video camera lovin' just to get him to stop rolling.

So here it is, Holden's first roll. We're sure glad Becca had a camera to capture the magic.

Here's to a lifetime of rockin' and rollin', my boy.

They Who Reject This Year's Jazz Team Will Surely Be Smitten At Last

I got to attend a couple more Jazz games a couple weeks ago. Namely, the Clippers and Wizards, on the 2nd and 6th rows, respectively. I had Jonathan in tow, which always seems to add an air of mischievousness to any event (he's available for parties, company events, weddings and bar mitzvahs).
So at the Clippers game, we're enjoying our seats, taking in the sites...

This shot was for Michelle. Her crush on this ravishing Russian is no secret amongst Ivins Ward regulars.

Millsap, knocking a couple down at the line. I just couldn't get enough of Kaman's derriere in my face.

Payne and I were a thorn in Cutino Mobley's side the entire night. It all started when the ref tossed the ball to him in order to in-bound it, and Mobley just let the ball bounce off his chest and onto to the court. It should have been a live ball, but the refs had pity on him. He was visibly perturbed, by both Payne & I and his own teammates.

So anyway, we were enjoying the game when, low and behold, a certain mouth-piece of the Lord enters the arena...

In this shot, we see T.Mons (as he's known in NBA circles) making eye contact with Kyle Korver ("KY" if you're buds with him) and letting him know, "You're the man. Tonight - it's your night. You got it." That's an apostolic blessing if I've ever seen one. Let's just say KY didn't disappoint.

So T.Mons continued his way pass the bench, but couldn't stop without sharing the Good News with J.Sloan. He took him in a brotherly handshake (while J.Sloan was in the middle of a time-out huddle, mind you) and told him of his admiration and respect for what he's been doing for the Jazz for so many years. Jerry was about as gracious as Jerry gets, the extent of which is portrayed in this picture.
T.Mons proceeded to air-dribble along the sideline, displaying for the Jazz staff how quickened game is. I'm pretty sure Tyrone "The Milkman" Corbin was impressed by his righteous skillz.

Monson made his way to the scorer's table, where he chatted with Craig Bolerjack and Ron Boone. I think I heard him comment, with regards to the first half, "3-pointers rained down, ankles were broken, Clippers were posterized." It's official - he is the king of the passive voice (as if there was any doubt before).

Jonathan will be the first to agree with me - once we saw the presence of the Lord's annointed prophet, was there really any doubting the outcome of the game? I think not.


Here are a couple shots from our 6th row seats at the Wizards game.

CJ dropping 3 onto the lowly Wizards.

The Wiz waming up. Mine and Payne's boss & owner of Gold's was on the front row behind the hoop, so at half time we went down and chatted with him. We talked about everything from house boats to male pregnancy.

The final score - Jazz 129, Wizards 87. Ouch.
As you can see, KY was the Subway Sub of the Game. Payne and I actually (unknowingly) passed up an opportunity to hang out and go bowling with KY after the game, but he should be swinging by Payne's house soon for some PS3 and tranqs.

Las Vegas Easter - Day 2

The next day we walked the strip with this baby movie star that everyone was staring at.

Trying to avoid the many smut-passers on the strip, we ducked into the M&M theater!

I had to beat up the green one for hitting on Wes.

We walked FOREVER and finally made it to Sephora, the Disneyland of make-up, where Holden had a major blow-out (of course) and we figured out we had no diapers. Bah! But it was nothing that a couple maxi-pads wouldn't fix :)

Then we hung out at the pool. He was the star of the hotel!

And we ended the trip by getting Holden a lion at FAO Schwartz that he now LOVES (aka drools on and chews).

Las Vegas Easter - Day 1

We took the fam to Las Vegas for Easter last weekend! We stayed in our time share, which was nice because there was no casino or smoking (such a rarity in Vegas these days).

We had so much fun.

Wes and I played table tennis

He'll tell you he won, but it's not true.

And Holden cheered us on.

Then we went to MGM to the Rainforest Cafe, mostly 'cause it was family friendly.

Holden was so enamored with the pretend lightning, thunder, etc.
he just looked dumbfounded all night.

Do We Have Anything to Say that Matters

I've been mulling over the issue of bloggers vs anti-bloggers for a while...and I definitely have something to say. (My cousin Cathy just recently blogged about this too and brought up some good points; I would link to her blog but it's private - so there). Anyway, there's a TON of negativity surrounding blogging out there: they say that it's merely an ego-driven hobby; similar to putting your kids in beauty contests so everyone can praise how cute they are and what a good parent you are; that it's prideful to think you've got anything to say that's worthy of publishing; that it's self-centered, etc.

Here's what I think. I think our world is getting ever increasingly splintered. Few people have a community, a network that lives in close proximity to them. Few people have a church or a club that meets together and allows them a sense of togetherness and understanding. And even those who do don't have it like our predecessors had it. We are split geographically from our families and friends. While our ancestors worked in the fields or mines together and would come together as a community often, we are fragmented by long distance commutes and crazy schedules that don't even allow neighbors to sit around and visit like they used to. In short, I think because all this has happened, our society/generation has created a way in which we can stay close theoretically: internet networks. Think about it - facebook, myspace, blogs, etc. are a way in which we can stay connected with people whose ideologies and philosophies we respect even when we can't talk with them face to face. And we can stay connected to family and friends we can't or don't have the time to see. I'm not even going to go into the other positive aspects of blogging (uncensored news, independent political viewpoints, sharing knowledge, getting helpful information,

Blogging is a great way to journal stuff that's happening in a way that allows people to come together in a way that's quite rewarding. I say screw the anti-bloggers! I don't fracking care what they think. I have something to say and I want to say it - even if nobody else agrees. It's a way for me to document my life and my life matters. I wish more people in my family blogged. Hopefully they're at least keeping journals. So there.

"What's the point of instruments / Words are a sawed off shotgun"

It's a Radiohead lyric I've had in my head for sometime now. The ironic thing is, many of Thom's lyrics you can't really understand - it's the tunes and how they're layered that deliver that shotgun spray. But in it's own way, Radiohead's music is like any literature worth reading, or even the scriptures for that matter - it takes initiative and an adept mind to discover why this band's the best in the world, and most likely the best the world will ever see.

But look, I've digressed before I've even started.
Every once in a while I don't disappoint Kevin's blogger stereotype and I'll take a picture with my camera phone of something "I've just got to blog about later." Well, this post is going to be a clinking, clanking, clattering collection of collaginous junk, err, blog post ideas.

I was on a bike ride with all of the scouts last fall and I passed this building.
Word is, they won't work for nobody but you.








What, pray tell, is a Wahoo? And even if there is one among you who knows what the bloody thing is, I know for certain that it's not purchased or sought after enough to warrant its own grocery store sign.






Last July, Jonathan and I went to Telluride, Colorado for a Bob Dylan concert (My Morning Jacket opened for them - a truly righteous bill if I've ever seen one). The day before the show we decided to hit up the municipal golf course for a round of 18.
I brought my driver, but left my drive at home. For the first time in this poor house's existence, someone was not only able to badly hook the ball enough to reach the house, but had the power & distance to clear its protective trees and nail this double-paned window right smack in the middle. Luckily it only shattered one pane. Hey, at least I can drive for power every now and then.


Here's my only camera phone pic of MMJ opening for Bob. As you can see, the security detail at our second row seats weren't too keen on photography.







Is there some sort of custard-related memorial holiday commemorating something in mid-January that I and the rest of the world don't know about? Apparently.












Hey, he's an idiot. What more can I say?




Shootin' stuff with Paulie. Paul's bad. Like, Snake Eyes bad.

Me? Not so much.

I just want to know if they'll take a cashier's check.


So last October I played in this one night tournament with my sister, Kiera's co-ed softball team. I played horrendously at the plate. Worst. Batting. Ever. But my fielding (in left-center) was stupendous. But the play of the game belonged to Kiera at catcher (yes, this team wasted her superior talents at catcher. I'd play Kiera at 3B over any guy on my softball team.).
It was a tight game and she'd already been mowed over once at the plate. Our opposition was down by a couple runs in the last inning and during a routine play at first for the second-to-last out of the game, the guy on third decided to jog towards home and force a play at the plate - for the sole purpose of plowing over Kiera in hopes of knocking the ball loose and getting one run closer. Kiera gets the ball, braces for impact, and this guy (GUY!) goes cornerback on her and puts his full weight and shoulder into leveling her.
She not only hangs onto the ball for the last out of the game, but proceeds to unleash a verbal barrage on this dude that brought a proud tear to a proud older brother.
Here are her bruises and wounds from that play. You can't see them very well, but the chin raised slightly in triumph says it all. Sorry guys, she's engaged.












Amber and I recently went to a Jazz game thanks to her generous boss's season tickets. We were second row, behind the Jazz bench.
"What would spectacular seats like that look like?" you ask? This.












A cool picture after one of our October '07 softball games that the old man played in. He didn't even pull his hamstring or anything.

Soon Stefan will be joining his brothers and father in the ranks of married, pathetic, softball playing, working men.

"I have two little hands...."

Notice a pattern?

Holden LOVES his hands.

I blame wes.

Role Revolution

Check this out. According to this article on MSNBC.com on the 'Sea Change' that's occurring in American households: many men want their wives to work, but they aren't willing to share the load at home. Big suprise....

"After years of being conditioned to believe that men relish the role of primary provider, researchers were surprised to discover that just 12 percent of men surveyed said they’d mind if their wife earned more than they do, and in general men seemed happy to share the breadwinner role."

"Experts attribute that in part to men not wanting to bear the sole burden of providing for their families. In fact, 35 percent of men and 40 percent of women surveyed said a key benefit of having a spouse make money is that it alleviates the pressure of being the only financial provider.

“It is a very tough era to be a sole breadwinner,” Lever noted.

"Nevertheless, although men appeared to happily cede the stress of being the primary breadwinner, they aren’t yet always picking up as much slack on the home front. More than 40 percent of women say they do more than their share of housework — and 29 percent of men agree."

“The male ego as head of household seems to have diminished to the point of disappearance,” said Rosanna Hertz, chair of women’s studies at Wellesley College and one of the researchers involved in the Elle/msnbc.com study. “However, men are still dragging their feet in terms of domestic responsibilities.”

I get why this trend sucks for women who want to stay home with their kids and I also get why this trend is great. I'm proud that the women's liberal movement has made enough headway that not only are more women working but they're not afraid to make more than their husbands. AND I feel great about the fact that men aren't feeling bad about it. But my guess is this sample survey isn't a great representation. I think a lot of men would feel lost, disoriented, troubled and depressed if their wives were more financially successful than they were. I think that's totally ridiculous. To be frank I don't get why roles are solely defined by your sex. Some women are more suited to the aggressive world of climbing the corporate ladder while many men are more suited to being fatherly and nurturing. And yet our patriarchal society is set up to condemn both and force people not suited to certain jobs into them. I think that explains much of the unhappiness and disappointment in marriage. Roles are never discussed - just assumed.

I also think it's CRAP that so many men expect their wives to work (inside or outside of the house) and yet aren't willing to pick up their share of the load inside the house. I have to say that I love that Wes and I take our roles and can move and change with them as we get older and our family develops. I love that Wes has an open mind and giving heart when it comes to sharing roles in AND out of the house. You're the best Wes!

What a Blessing

This is one of Holden's many awesome faces. It's a mixture of exasperation, fatigue and glee. I like to call it "exgligue."So we blessed Holden last Sunday and what a picture he was in his bowtied satin onesie. He did really well entertaining all the people and dealing with the stress of wondering if we had enough food (oh wait that was me). Wes did a fabulous job giving the blessing at church and only lost his composure for a second when Holden let out a loud "gry" (mixture of grunt and cry) in the beginning. We totally called it - the night before, Wes and I were out on a date and discussed the fact that our cute by who rarely fusses would totally put on a show at his blessing and scream through it. He didn't do that badly though - it only lasted a couple seconds. And then he was perfect again. But of course fifteen minutes before church ended, he served us right for dressing him in pure white by exploding through his diaper all the way up the back of it. Wes carried him out of church with his arms outstretched so he wouldn't get it on him - and of course everyone at church saw....it was quite the day.

Which Austen Heroine Are You?

I took a quiz to find out which Jane Austen heroine I most likely resemble and I turned out to be Emma. I could have guessed that. She has lots of friends, loves to throw parties, views everyone as a project and tends to be cross with people who annoy her. How like me....

I made Wes pretend he was a girl and take it and he turned out to be Elizabeth Bennet from Pride and Prejudice.

So take the quiz and tell me who you are!

Something wrong with this picture

Anyone who is not a parent yet or not sure if they want babies should skip this post.

I came home from work today to experience the nastiest diaper change of my life. There I was, holding my cute baby on my lap next to while Wes and I scoured the Curry in a Hurry menu on his laptop, when out of no where, Holden (who mind you had already had his messy diaper for the day) sharted. If you don't know the definition of the term shart, don't look it up. It's pretty graphic.

Anyway, it was so loud that it startled me and I panicked, thinking I should probably change him asap.......something about the way it sounded like big rocks falling into a lake......Oh boy. I put him on the changing table and runny, messy, breast-fed poop had managed to get all the way down his pants into his socks! It was sticky like honey and of similar hue. Gross! I made Wes come and watch because I couldn't endure the experience alone. He came in and we worked together in undressing him in such a way where we would get as little of the offending excrement on us. I thought we were so successful, holding out his soiled onesie with our thumb and forefingers.....until.......I........looked......down. My cute gray velour sweat pants had runny, sticky poop all the way down the left leg. Sick sick sick. I started screaming and Wes started laughing hysterically while begging me not to get it on the floor (because of course at this point it had been running down my leg for a while without my notice and was nearing the ground). Wow it was so gross I am really looking forward to the day he can take care of his business without me.

When does potty training start?

Working in St. George

Things I love about St. George:
* That it's not part of the Arctic freeze.
* The contrast of red sandstone slopes against the glacier peaks
* Driving behind old people in their Town Cars and seeing that they're keeping alive the tradition of crocheting holders for their Kleenex boxes.
* That there are so many golf courses every single person in St. George could golf at the same time and still there would be no waiting.


Things I hate about St. George
* The drive. I got clocked at doing 100 and got a pretty pricey ticket.
* That the old people in Town Cars drive so slowly that I can see their Kleenex boxes in their rear window.
* Not seeing this beautiful face: