Based on the available evidence, it seems that I like to blog about once a year. I cannot claim greater frequency. After all, it was around this time in 2008 that I last posted something, so if that theory is correct, it is now time to dust off the old Deep Forest Outpost and kick around a few thoughts.

The sad truth, though, is that I have a growing collection of unfinished posts that either outlived their usefulness/timeliness, or in which I lost interest because they were not that interesting to begin with. It surprises me that I do not blog more often, because I am always fascinated by my own observations and I never fail to laugh at my own jokes. I am an ideal audience for myself.

Wahahahahaha! Your jokes are so funny!

I hope this post manages to make it all the way to the internet this time, because I do want to get back to a more regular blog schedule. I spent some time earlier this year writing most of a sizable recap of our family vacation to Walt Disney World, but that took place about nine months ago, and so the statute-of-limitations has probably run out. More recently I have been working on an extensive chronicle of my recent trip to Africa as a representative of ZAGG. While I still plan on posting that soon, in multiple parts, I wanted to get something into the digital ether before it really did go past a year between postings for me.

So I decided to repeat an idea I used about a year and a half ago, and post one of my current music playlists with some notes about each of the songs. I hope to get to the end of this before any of my standard distractions (watching television, working on my book, surfing the internet, gaming, etc.) break in. I do hope it is interesting to someone besides me; but believe me, I already love it.

Just a few technical notes before I get to the songs. My device of choice is an Apple iPhone 3G. I mentioned a year and a half ago that one of my favorite features of the latest mp3 players is the ability to create your own playlists, and that has not changed. I named this playlist “Gonzo List V.1” (I am an idiot about naming things) which I intended to mean there were no boundaries when selecting songs. If I wanted to put something from AC/DC with Mozart with “When You Wish Upon A Star,” I would do it, and never mind the conventions. As it turns out, everything I picked falls more or less under the “Adult Contemporary” genre. Not quite in the spirit of Hunter S. Thompson, in other words.

The songs, in random order courtesy of the iPhone shuffle feature:

What’s Going On – Marvin Gaye I like having this as the first song because I think it has some cultural currency and because the last time I posted a list like this it started with Britney Spears. The tragic story of Marvin Gaye is well known: his 19 top ten singles in the United States, his creative clashes with Berry Gordy of Motown and the groundbreaking success that came from it, his tragic battle with drugs and his more tragic ending at the hands of his father. He was unafraid to use his music as social commentary, performed the second coolest version of “The Star-Spangled Banner” since the War of 1812, and is remembered as a pioneer of music and an icon to performers and audiences around the world.

With that in mind, I am touched by the pleas for harmony and erasing violence in this song, but I always think the deeper meanings are out of reach for me because (a) I do not have personal experiences of the 1960s and (b) I am not black. Is it acceptable for a white guy in conservative Utah to hear Marvin singing “brother, brother,” and think maybe, in the world as it is in 2009, I can feel a connection to the message? Probably not, but again, this song is much too cool for me.

On a final note, I enjoy that such a meaningful song begins with what sounds like friends greeting each other at some sort of event. This, as much as anything, convinces me that the real message of the song is escaping me somehow. I always listen for one of the voices to say “Ssssolid!” just before the saxophone starts in.

I Can’t Get Enough Of Your Love – Barry White True story: Barry White, deep-voiced recording star, five-time Grammy Award winner, and one of the smoothest men to ever grace the earth, grew up in the tough streets of South Central LA and served four months of prison when he was 17 years old for stealing car parts. While in prison, Barry heard the Elvis Presley song “It’s Now or Never,” had an epiphany, and upon his release left the criminal life behind and began a career as a recording artist.

Are there any ladies in the audience tonight?

There are many questions left unanswered in this remarkable story and by the untimely passing of Barry White. Was it the message of the song or Elvis himself that encouraged the change? If it was Elvis, did The King inspire the young felon, or did Barry just think he could do better? Also, did Barry bring any of his gang friends with him to the Love Unlimited Orchestra?. However, what is clear about the man once un-affectionately called “The Walrus of Love” is that he never, ever tired of singing about making love to the ladies. A sampling of some of his other popular titles: “I’m Gonna Love You Just a Little More Baby,” “What Am I Gonna Do with You,” and “It’s Ecstasy When You Lay Down Next to Me.” The titular song here is Barry’s finest, and an ideal selection for anyone’s *ahem* amorous, boudoir playlist.

Tequila Sunrise – The Eagles This song is one of my favorites for singing while alone in the car or with an unlucky passenger, most often Amy/The Wandering Moose. I am convinced, hearing myself, that I could be the lead singer for an Eagles cover band (name suggestions: “The Desperados,” “Lyin’ Eyes,” “Takin’ It Easy”), as my voice blends just right with Glenn Frey’s smooth vocals.

The multi-function of the iPhone ruined that dream for me a few weeks ago, however. As I was driving home, singing, a text message came in, which causes the volume to drop to almost nothing for about a second. What I heard from myself in that brief moment was both jarring and sobering. I was aware that I do not have a good singing voice — the dream being just that — but I did not think it was Carl-Lewis-Singing-The-National-Anthem bad. I was very, very wrong. My sincere apologies to anyone who has been subjected to my singing in the past. You did not deserve that.

The Human Touch – Rick Springfield This is an underrated song from an underrated pop-rock performer of the 1980s; and yes, I am referring to THAT Rick Springfield. Rick is more well known for his acting, in particular the long-running role of Dr. Noah Drake on General Hospital, but he is a Grammy Award winning singer with a number of hits under his belt, including “Jessie’s Girl” and “Love Somebody.”

Rick Springfield: not legally allowed to write prescriptions

The problem with this song, and perhaps the reason why it was never as popular as “Jessie’s Girl,” is that it goes into an extended instrumental riff about three and a half minutes in that carries over for the remaining four-odd minutes. There are two reasons why artists do this. Either (a) the awesomeness and fun of a great band jamming together, or (b) the song was written for a movie soundtrack, and the director needed some extended music for a scene. Considering that Rick’s band was probably a collection of good-but-anonymous session musicians, the movie theory would seem to be correct. However, it does not belong to any soundtrack that I can find, so perhaps it was written for one, but never used. Barring that, maybe the answer is (c) Rick could not figure out how to end the song, so he just kept playing until it sort of worked itself out. Which is too bad, because a four minute radio edit of this song might have given Rick another hit.

Lazy Eye – Silversun Pickups I first heard this song on Guitar Hero World Tour and ended up buying it on iTunes because I enjoyed it so much. I have since listened to three or four other songs by the Silversun Pickups and I have to say: I am a little disappointed. But I do like “Lazy Eye,” which is a great song, even if it is a one-hit wonder in the making.

Lyrics have a big impact for me with many songs, and so I am always trying to figure out what is being sung and what it means. When I first heard the portion of this song where lead singer Brian Aubert jumps into dramatic and almost shouting lines (about 2:45), I thought the first words were “lost and lonely,” which gave that section a heavy, heartbroken feeling that I quite liked. Then I came to discover that he really sings “locked and loaded,” a very different sentiment, and it changed my opinion of the song a bit. I still like it, of course, but not with the same interest.

My favorite story about this song is from when I was driving down Logan Canyon with my brother-in-law and his sons/my nephews, and we were listening to this playlist on my iPhone. By way of explanation, the guys in the car with me come from a family environment where rock music is a luxury (one in which they choose not to indulge), but because the women were riding together in another car, we decided to rock out. We spent a lot of time talking and laughing about how some of the male singers on my list “sang like girls” with their high ranges and sweeping falsettos. When this song came on and I revealed that the singer was a man, the lid came off and we laughed for a good five solid minutes.

Maybe you had to be there, but it was awesome.

Let Me Take You Home Tonight – Boston This song was written around the same time Marvin Gaye was pleading for greater togetherness as detailed above, but released about five years later. In contrast, Brad Delp’s amazing, soaring vocals are pleading with a woman who he may have been stalking to come home with him. Not exactly aiming high, but it suited the rock and roll lifestyle. Besides, not every song needs to have a social conscience (or a conscience of any kind), I suppose.

“Let Me Take You Home Tonight” has some great retro lyrics, including Delp trying to sweet-talk his love interest by calling her “Mamma.” As near as I can tell, this was sophisticated seduction language in the 1970s. I recently tried to initiate a comeback of that particular term of endearment with Amy/T.W. Moose by calling her “Mamma,” and let’s just say it went over like a lead zeppelin, as Keith Moon once said. A bit creepy for her taste. Which brings us to…

Houses Of The Holy – Led Zeppelin The good news about Led Zeppelin is that millions of people including critics, other musicians, teenagers of all generations, and stoners the world over, would rank them somewhere in the top 3 best rock groups of all time. On my personal list, they are number one. The bad news is that Zeppelin was well aware of this fact, and so they had no qualms about trying pretentious crap like naming one of their best albums a bunch of odd, quasi-mystical symbols (the so-called “Led Zeppelin 4,” or “Led Zeppelin Signs and Runes”). As a high school student discovering Zeppelin for the first time, I should have rolled my eyes at such windbaggery, but instead I doodled the symbols on nearly every available writing surface during class. Led Zeppelin was a major part of my high school soundtrack.

This song, one of their best simple rock recordings, features another Led Zeppelin staple: weird, incomprehensible lyrics. Consider the first four phrases of “Houses Of The Holy” (and these are by no means the strangest lyrics in this song):

“Let me take you to the movies.
Can I take you to the show?
Let me be yours every truly.
Can I make your garden grow?”

Huh? Like most Zeppelin fans, I happily gloss over the fact that Robert Plant’s lyrics often make no sense at all, and instead substitute vague symbolic-sounding language for an actual message. Bob Dylan fans do the same thing, by the way. If someone like John Mayer put those exact same words in a song he would be called out by the critics and listeners alike. But Zeppelin? It must have deeper meanings, man.

Candyman – Christina Aguilera This song fills the void of Big Band Sound with Ridiculous, Filthy Lyrics left when the Cherry Poppin’ Daddies faded back into appropriate obscurity in the late 1990s. I am not a particular fan of swing era/big band music, so I cannot say this for sure, but I doubt Duke Ellington or Tommy Dorsey ever wrote songs with any combination of the words “tattoos,” “paparazzi,” and “panties.” Just my personal observation. I also tend to skip this song unless I am in a whimsical mood.

Stop – Spice Girls This is my favorite Spice Girls song at the moment, which is not saying much in 2009, but in 1997 it would have been significant for me. Like many others around the world, I had a modest infatuation with the Spice Girls during their heyday. Also like those many others, I only admit as much when absolutely necessary these days.

In case you didn't know, we're British

My two favorite Spice Girls (and, like The Beatles before them, everyone had a favorite) were Posh/Victoria, who went on to become a skeletal fashion icon and marry the world’s most famous soccer player, and Scary/Mel B., who went on to become the best celebrity contestant in the history of Dancing With the Stars. Mel B’s Paso Doble with Maksim Chmerkovskiy during the 2007 semi-finals was the single best performance on that show, ever. Race car driver Helio Castroneves could not have robbed her more blatantly if he had used a gun… or so I have been told. Not that I have ever watched a full season of Dancing With The Stars. I am a guy, after all. Moving on.

Wheel in the Sky – Journey I recently expressed an opinion to my brother that this was the quintessential Journey song, tying their rock past together with their run of success in the 1980s. This song is from the 1978 album Infinity, which is Journey’s fourth, and their first with lead singer Steve Perry, whose powerful, distinctive tenor voice is a mainstay of the band’s most distinctive sound. “Wheel in the Sky” was also written and popular before Journey brought pianist Jonathan Cain on board and they went in an even more pop direction.

The real star of this song is ace guitarist Neal Schon, who is ranked number one on my list of Awesome Rock Guitarists That Nobody Talks About. Among his many other credentials, Neal joined Santana as a guitarist prodigy at the age of 15, having turned down an offer to play with Eric Clapton in Derek and the Dominos (Carlos Santana called first). He dropped out of high school in 1969 and has been rocking ever since. This song makes me feel bad for Neal in a way, as the Journey that would emerge in the 1980s would be memorable for the keyboards and the voice of Steve Perry. Even though the guitar is a component in their popular songs (“Don’t Stop Believin’,” “Open Arms,” “Separate Ways”), Neal and his sound are often an afterthought. For a guy with the chops to have a career like Carlos Santana or Eric Clapton, I always wonder if he did not reach his full potential. That is not to say that the music industry does not appreciate Neal Schon; he has collaborated on an impressive list of outside projects, among other things. But as the third banana in Journey, I do not think he ever got the popular attention he deserves.

I’ll Be Over You – Toto Switching gears with this song (or at least it feels like switching gears, even if the broad “Adult Contemporary” genre still fits here and has with almost every song so far), Toto was a very popular band throughout the 1980s and wrote a number of mellow hits like this one, “Rosanna,” and “Africa.” In fact, and this may surprise some people, Toto only broke up in June 2008, having just finished what would be their final tour.

Featuring background vocals by easy listening superman Michael McDonald (more on him later), “I’ll Be Over You” is an ode to a love interest who broke up with the writer(s) of the song. The breakup is so painful that singer Steve Luthaker threatens he will only be able to get over her “as soon as forever is through.” It comes across as a little pathetic, if I am being honest. He is not looking to get back together with her, though, he just wants her to know that his heart is broken, and he still dreams about holding her in his arms. In fairness, I am a pathetic sentimentalist myself, so I understand where he is coming from.

Look at the sword! This music must be terrifying!

When raising her three boys, my mom decided to use the word “toto” as a kid-friendly substitute word for going Number Two (as in: “Do you need to go toto?”). Heaven knows why, but it sounded nicer to her than the alternatives. A few years later I remember being in a local department store with my mom and brothers, and coming across the album Toto IV. I was only about six years old, and I had just discovered a band with an outrageous name (not being aware that “toto” to replace “poop” was a family oddity), and an album cover that featured rings and a sword. I put it back where I had found it, and hoped my mom had not seen me looking at such things. My impression for the next several years was that Toto was a crazy heavy metal band; after all, who else but an anti-social metal band would have the temerity to name themselves after a bodily function? My eyes were opened in my teenage years, but I still snicker sometimes when I see the name.

Your Love – The Outfield Continuing the strong 1980s theme I have brewing, this song sounds like it should be playing during a movie scene where the popular jock picks on Anthony Michael Hall while Molly Ringwald scowls and hates her life. I do not know how many movies filmed in the 1980s actually used this song in their soundtrack, but I know it is a popular choice for current movies set in the 1980s. In other words, The Outfield managed to write a song that had a prototypical ’80s sound, only it was not commonly used to represent that decade until years later, so what they actually did was make a retro ’80s song — in the ’80s.

I used to think this was a song about unrequited or unfulfilled love, based on the most recognizable line: “I don’t wanna lose your love tonight.” However, a few weeks ago I paid closer listen to the lyrics and found that it is instead about a guy having an affair while his girlfriend is away. That is a big difference I never noticed before because I had never paid the song that much attention. But when Amy/T.W. Moose bought it not long ago, I put it on this playlist because I liked the sound. The rest was a somewhat disillusioning process of discovery.

Out Of Touch – Hall & Oates It is easy to forget this now, but at one time Hall and Oates were one of the most popular bands in the world. A few survivors from that era have become legendary and reputable today, but Hall and Oates are considered dated and lumped in with what we now find amusing about the 1980s. These guys were big enough that they made the cut for the iconic “We Are The World” record (although only Daryl Hall was allowed to sing). For a group with six number one songs on the Billboard 100 and twenty-six (26!) others that charted in the top 50, this is a musical tragedy.

The problem very well could be John Oates mustache, which was spectacular when they were popular and he has since shaved, but could be the most memorable thing, style-wise, from their salad days. True story: I just asked a friend what he remembers most about Hall and Oates, and the first thing he said was: “Well, there was that one guy with the mustache.” Is it more sad or more amusing that a single line of thick, black whiskers could be what kept a great band from perpetual respect and consideration? Answer: more amusing. Still, it is about time for a Hall and Oates renaissance.

What a Fool Believes – The Doobie Brothers A great rock band during the early 1970s, the Doobies transitioned to a more soft rock sound once they brought lead singer Michael McDonald on board in 1976. I am a fan of the blue-eyed, white-haired, big-bearded sound of Michael, but he represented a significant change to the direction and structure of the band, and they were no longer the laid back rockers that had a strong following among local chapters of the Hell’s Angels.

In the spirit of full disclosure, this song came to be in my collection because of the time I spent laughing my head off at the seminal Channel 101 internet video series “Yacht Rock.” It is the central song behind the first video in the series, which hooked me on both Yacht Rock and the music of Michael McDonald. I recommend the videos with a caveat for strong language and frequent profanity. That does not bother me, but I worked around construction workers for eight years, so I am desensitized.

Rarely brings the guitar when he is on missile business

In a final, surprising note, the opening paragraph of the Wikipedia profile for former Doobie Brothers guitarist Jeff “Skunk” Baxter reads as follows: “Jeff “Skunk” Baxter is an American guitarist best known for his stints in the rock bands Steely Dan and The Doobie Brothers during the 1970s. More recently, he has been working as a defense consultant and chairs a Congressional Advisory Board on missile defense.” Is there anything less likely than a rock guitarist named Skunk becoming the chair of a Congressional Board advising lawmakers about missile defense? That sounds like a subplot from a crappy comic book.

Fireflies – Owl City This song is my token nod to the current pop charts, as well as a brief respite from the 1980s. This has a different sound that I like, although it is heavy with synthesizers, so that is probably not much of a surprise. I do not have much else to write about this band or song. Sorry Owl City — come see me when your lead guitarist becomes the country’s leading expert on missile defense.

Suite: Judy Blue Eyes – Crosby, Stills & Nash Some of my earliest memories about music feature songs from Crosby, Stills & Nash, including this one. My parents raised me right, in other words. This song was released in 1969, and was performed by CSN at Woodstock, meaning it has been gracing radio airwaves for 40 years now. While this is not always my favorite song by either CSN or CSNY (it is at the moment, but that changes), I think it is probably their best song. I would listen to counter arguments, however.

That’s What You Get – Paramore Another recent song and another band that I gained an appreciation for due to Guitar Hero World Tour. Well, that is not completely correct, as it was Amy/T.W. Moose who gained an appreciation for Paramore thanks to Guitar Hero World Tour, and before that, the Twilight soundtrack. I got it from her.

Emo bands are on their way to make you sad

The music of Paramore has been described as “emo,” and I have to assume it almost certainly is (I am far too old to judge whether or not something is emo). I found my own reaction to that bit of news alarming, as my first instinct was to shy away from the emo label and not wish to be associated with it. In fact, I even feel a bit strange writing the word “emo,” as it is something that belongs to a younger generation, like I am forbidden to understand it. This must be how my dad felt watching the advancement of rap and hip-hop, or his father’s generation watching the revolution of rock and roll. Is it a rule written somewhere that each new cultural movement has to make the previous generation uncomfortable? When did I start to get old?

Well, those deep and unsettling questions aside, I actually like Paramore and their music, even if none of the kids in the band were in kindergarten before I graduated high school. Never mind, this song is depressing me now, I need to move on.

What About Love? – Heart This song was a crossroads for the rock group Heart. It was the first single from their big comeback in 1985, and it marked a distinct change in direction from their hard rock history. This song was also written and recorded by a Canadian group named Toronto several years earlier (bands used to love naming themselves after cities, but that trend seems to have sadly faded), but was never released. They sold the rights to Heart, who turned it into an international success.

I am not certain if “What About Love?” has ever been attempted on a singing competition show like American Idol, although other Ann Wilson vocals have been generally butchered by wobbly, spike heeled, would-be pop starlets. The only time I can remember enjoying a cover of a Heart song while watching AI was when Carrie Underwood belted out “Alone” in the show’s fourth season, and some of that had to do with the fact that Carrie is a cute as a button and had really big hair for the performance. Competitors should be wary of attempting to cover Ann’s exceptional, powerful singing the same way the judges try to steer them clear of Whitney Houston or Celine Dion.

I’m Not Saying – Gordon Lightfoot I am unable to find an estimate of how many women Gordon Lightfoot slept with during the height of his powers in the 1970s. It makes sense that a gentleman such as Gordon would be discreet in his dalliances, but the simple fact that this song exists proves that the number was large. Impressively large.

The first half of this song is a detailed list of all the things one of Gordon’s lady friends can expect from their intimate relationship, including:

• I’m not saying that I’ll love you
• I’m not saying that I’ll care if you love me
• I’m not saying I’ll be there when you need me
• I can’t give my heart to you
• I can’t lay the promise down that I’ll always be around when you need me
• I may not be alone each time you see me
• I won’t deny you or mistreat you… if you let me have my way
• I’m not saying I’ll be sorry for all the things that I might say that make you cry
• I can’t say I’ll always do the things you want me to
• I’m not saying I’ll be true… but I’ll try

Nothing like lowered expectations from the very beginning, right? My favorite part of this song might be where he throws in the token “… but I’ll try,” as if that is going to make up for the previous minute-and-a-half of disappointing promises. I know times were different in the 1970s with the booming drug culture and the promiscuity spawned by the free love era, but can you imagine any self-respecting woman hearing those terms, shrugging her shoulders, and saying “okay”? But, it almost certainly had to be so. With his beardy good looks, his rich baritone voice, and his smooth guitar playing, Gordon Lightfoot was the embodiment of a ’70s sexual icon. More to the point, Gordon had so many willing partners that he had to write a song just so they could all understood the ground rules of their affairs. True, this is just my theory, but it has the scent of truth.

I am what they call the "total package."

In an twist of irony, Amy/T.W. Moose’s father, my dad-in-law, happens to be Gordon Lightfoot. This is another theory, of course, but consider the evidence: Aside from the obvious physical similarities (both men are head-turning handsome, even now into their 70s), they are both from Canada (Dad became an American citizen not long ago), they both sing and play the guitar, they were born the same year, they both specialize in flirting (here I am making an educated guess about Gordon), and most importantly – nobody has ever seen Dad and Gordon Lightfoot in the same room at the same time. A little eerie, and pretty convincing, if I say so myself. I am a fan of Gordon Lightfoot.

I Will…But – SHeDAISY I am excited to have this song follow “I’m Not Saying,” because it is very similar in nature. This also lays down some guidelines for any would-be paramour of the ladies of SHeDAISY, albeit in a somewhat different spirit from the free wheeling Gordon Lightfoot.

The verses of “I Will… But” describe in detail what not to expect from any of The Osborn Sisters (the band’s original name), and the chorus makes vague promises about what the exceedingly patient love interest will get in return.
Again, the spirit is not quite the same, but the message is clear. A sampling of the verses:

• I will not be bored
• I will not be ignored
• I won’t be your cure-all pill
• I won’t run to fetch the water
• I won’t be your Martha Stewart
• I won’t be your crutch to lean on
• I won’t walk a mile in your shoes just so I know how it feels
• I won’t be the portrait of perfection to adorn your wall
• I won’t be your mamma’s favorite
• I refuse to be the last in line

Then, the chorus:

• But I will be your everything if you make me feel like a woman should. I will be the whole shebang.

In other words, she will be everything to you, her love interest, provided she doesn’t have to cook, clean, spend a single moment un-entertained, try to understand your feelings, be there to support you, get along with your mom, wait her turn in line, or let you do anything besides pay attention to her. So what exactly are you getting out of this relationship, besides vague promises?

In fairness, the message of “I Will… But” is about a woman wanting to be treated right, and I always support that sentiment. There are other, more reasonable demands in the verses, too; I was fudging the context just a bit. But I have to say the demands grossly outweigh the promises in this song.

Say – John Mayer I discovered a recent backlash against John Mayer while discussing music with some friends at work. In the course of the conversation the subject of John and his music came up, and these friends (both men) offered a variation of the same opinion: I like his music, but I don’t like him. I was surprised. When I pressed them on what they don’t like about him, their answers were vague: He’s a jerk.

Dating beautiful women? As a guy, I cannot stand for such things!

It almost goes without saying that both friends are married, because it sounded to me like they were repeating something their wives had said. That was my impression not so much because of their opinions, to which they are welcome, but because their thoughts were unorganized and uncertain. It was like they had heard their wives did not like John Mayer, but had not heard the reason why.

So I did a little internet research and think I discovered why many of his female fans have started to turn against John Mayer: he is tearing through celebrity girlfriends like Barry White through a box of Krispy Kremes (or like Barry White would have, may he rest in peace). Maybe there is more to it, but that is what I could discover in my extensive two minutes of research.

I wanted to take that information back to my friends and put the screws to them: Really? He’s a jerk? Because he sleeps around with Hollywood actresses? Since when has that ever bothered a guy? But, it was late and about time to go home. Besides, I still like John Mayer and his music, and that’s all that really counts.

Ring My Bell – Anita Ward This song — the last one on the list — is a classic of the disco era with a solid beat and airy, engaging vocals. It turns up quite often in soundtracks, either as the original recording or as one of many covers. Anita Ward obtained a degree in psychology from Rust College (go Bearcats) prior to launching her disco career, which must have made for a few awkward conversations with her parents. The disco train came to a shuddering halt not long after this song was released, along with Anita’s career. She still performs “Ring My Bell” for the right audience and the right price, most recently in 2006 in Zagreb, Croatia, prior to a skiing tournament. I did not make that up.

I include this on many of my playlists because it is the only song I know that references household chores and innuendo in the same sentence. Here is the first verse:

“I’m glad you’re home, now did you really miss me?
I guess you did by the look in your eyes.
Well lay back and relax while I put away the dishes,
then you and me can rock a bell.”

It may be that “put away the dishes” means something different from what I understand, or conversely, that “rock a bell” could be something totally innocent. Given the era and the context of the rest of the song, though, I think that is highly unlikely. Which begs the question: couldn’t the songwriter come up with anything that sounded more alluring than “lay back and relax while I put away the dishes?”

WARNING: SPORTS NERD POST (links to rebuttals from BYU fans are at the bottom)

With the annual rivalry battle between the University of Utah and Brigham Young University just days away, I thought it would be a perfect time to post a collection of evidence why Utah is more fun to follow than BYU.  My initial idea was to write this a few weeks ago, so fellow bloggers who are BYU fans could post replies. Unfortunately, delays-upon-delays meant that now I only have a few days before the game, which leaves a very small window for a BYU response.  If no one is able to, then I suppose Utah wins by default.  I mean, they would win anyway, but nobody likes to see a forfeit from the other team.

The big problem I encountered when compiling this list is that I enjoy watching BYU football, as well.  I have followed Utah all of my sports life, which began back when it was less of a rivalry and more of a yearly massacre at the hands of the Cougars.  After the tables began to balance and my sports fan tastes matured a bit (so to speak – people rarely use the terms “sports fan” and “mature” in the same sentence) I curiously found myself both watching and enjoying BYU football.  In fact, I even considered myself a legitimate fan of both teams for a while, which was a difficult balancing act, and could not be sustained for long.

Now I am firmly entrenched in the Utah camp, and although I looked over the fence for a while, I realize now that I never really left.  Remnants of my dual identity remain, and although I may draw ridicule from other fans for trying to follow two rival teams, I will always have a soft spot in my heart for the Cougars.  Sometimes it’s a very small spot, but it is there.

With that out of the way, allow me to move on to the primary arguments:

Utah has been as nationally relevant as BYU over the past 17 years. I selected 1992 as the beginning year for this point, as that is when Utah began a football renaissance and began to play at a higher level.  BYU had been at that level for years, winning a surprising-to-this-day national championship in 1984, and featuring Ty Detmer’s Heisman Trophy season in 1990.  I fully acknowledge that if I were writing this in 1991, BYU would be the runaway winner.  Of course, if I were writing this in 1964, Utah would have won 34 of the past 40 games against BYU, with four ties and only two losses.  So, short of considering the entire past, it makes sense to just stick with the most recent era, when both teams are balanced against each other.

Utah’s overall record since 1992 is 134-67 (.667), while BYU’s is 139-71 (.662).  [Ed. Note: My friend Zach recently pointed out that I am an idiot.  Well, he didn't put it in those words - he just let me know that my math in the previous sentence was wrong, which has since been altered to show the correct percentages.  The lesson to be learned here: Math is not my strong suit.  And, I am an idiot.] In that stretch of 17 seasons – including the current one – Utah has finished with a losing record twice (2000 and 2002), and BYU has three times (2002, 2003, 2004).  BYU still leads the Conference Championship debate, with 8 since 1992.  They also have a chance at sharing a ninth championship with a win on Saturday.  Utah still only has 5 Conference championships, counting the guaranteed share this year.

This means that Utah and BYU have comparable win/loss records and total number of winning seasons over the given time frame.  BYU has more conference championships, but in the Mountain West Conference both teams have four, counting Utah’s possible outright/certain share this year.  This point would probably be a wash, then, if not for…

Utah has a better bowl record since 1992. Utah has played in 11 bowls since 1992, with an 8-3 record, while BYU has played in 10, and is 4-6. If we move the comparison back a year, so both teams have 11 bowl games, then BYU is 4-6-1, having recorded a reprehensible tie in the 1991 Holiday Bowl against Iowa.

BYU’s most recent notable bowl game was a 19-17 win against Kansas State in the 1997 Cotton Bowl, while Utah’s most recent notable bowl game was a 35-7 win over Pittsburgh in the 2005 Fiesta Bowl.  Should Utah win on Saturday, it will be two undefeated seasons and two (likely) BCS bowls under two different coaching staffs, and only four years apart.  Even if BYU should win, Utah probably remains the only MWC team to appear in the BCS so far, as BYU would need some unlikely help to get there this season.

Bowl game record is the trump card of the argument.  Each team is approximately equal in record for the past 17 years, each has played and won a nationally relevant bowl in that time, and both have avoided an excess of losing seasons.  The only major difference is in bowl game record, which is important to the program because it gives the team one more nationally televised game that can help with recruiting and poll position the following year.  Provided you win, of course; and Utah is 7-0 in the past seven years.  Ergo, Utah has been the better team since 1992 – point, game, set, and match.

However, I have a few other significant items to mention:

Utah has won the Rivalry Game more often since 1992. BYU has come from behind each of the past two years to win the annual tilt in dramatic fashion.  However, since 1992, Utah has won more often: nine victories to BYU’s seven.  It’s true that this is a small difference like many of the earlier numbers, but the value isn’t in the disparity as much as the fact that it’s close, with Utah even in a slight lead.  Such a thing was unthinkable in the two decades prior to 1992, and further proof that Utah has equaled, if not exceeded, their rivals.

Utah has the Underdog Vibe, BYU has the Arrogance Vibe. BYU fans love to discuss the strength of their national following, and it is a compelling argument.  The built-in fan base means they have interest from all over the country, as well as recruiting power anywhere – although it is pretty limited in most places.  However, outside of that very specific base, interest in the Cougars diminishes.  That is not to say that Utah has more national interest, but which team would have greater appeal to a casual outside observer?  The plucky, up-and-coming team just starting to make noise on the national stage?  Or the established, dismissive former power that is perceived to trade on its slowly eroding tradition?

BYU players and fans have long been seen as arrogant, which is unfair to a point, but earned in large part.  Most of this comes from the tendency of BYU fans to brag about: (1) the high moral standards at BYU, (2) the difficulty in being accepted to study there, and (3) the quality of people who attend because of the first two points.  The problem is most BYU followers either don’t understand or don’t care that arguing that point is perceived as conceited and egotistical by rival teams and fans.

Here is an example of what I mean: I once asked a girl out to a high school dance who was well above my pay grade.  She was a senior, I was a junior; she was a cheerleader, I was on the school newspaper; she was pretty, I was … funny (sort of).  In fact, I only knew her because we were both on the debate team, and in a fit of exuberance and over-confidence, I asked her out to the Junior Prom.  She declined, of course, but instead of a simple “sorry, but no,” or a polite excuse, she decided write me a note with a deeper explanation.  I don’t remember many of the details, save for one line that I have repeated many times – the first few times for shock value and the rest of the times for the undeniable humor: “I don’t date very often,” she wrote, “because I have really high standards.”

The note-writing cheerleader probably didn’t mean to imply that I wasn’t good enough to date her; she was simply informing me of her high standards.  I genuinely don’t believe that she was trying to hurt my feelings.  In fact, she probably thought she was being unnecessarily kind to explain why her expansive dating circle and my limited dating circle (basically just me standing inside my own very small circle) were never destined to intersect.

In that same fashion, most BYU fans probably don’t actually think of themselves as a better class of people, but the message certainly comes across that way.  Times are bound to change, and if Utah keeps winning they will eventually lose the Underdog Vibe.  However, I haven’t seen any signs of BYU losing the Arrogance Vibe anytime soon.  Fair or not, correct or not, it is a part of the rivalry.

Kyle Whittingham is more fun to have as a head coach than Bronco Mendenhall. A minor cult of personality has sprung up around Bronco Mendenhall.  His success as a coach and his image of disciplined leadership has inspired hero worship from legions of Cougar fans.  For the record, I don’t think Bronco is comfortable with this in any way.  He strikes me as a very decent guy who is probably embarrassed by the attention.  However, it is there, and in some ways I suspect it doesn’t let Coach Mendenhall vary from his gruff, straightforward exterior.  He has to be too conscious of his words and actions as he is under a magnifying glass.

Coach Whittingham, however, knows no such limitations.  Although any head coach at a big college program has to be careful about his words and actions, Kyle’s success has made him virtually bulletproof at Utah.  Whether we as Utah fans are less demanding or more understanding, we seem to enjoy the ride with Whittingham, as opposed to adoring his genius, as BYU fans are increasing guilty of doing to Mendenhall.  Kyle has the added benefit of being immune to barbs from BYU fans, because he played his own college football for them.  True, most fans still throw them, but they fear, deep down, that they are still taking on one of their own.

As a bonus point, I have noticed that Kyle Whittingham has rather large, pronounced canine teeth, which makes him look just a bit like a snarling wolf as he is pacing the sidelines.  In fact, “Wolf” would be a good nickname and a nice complement to “Bronco” on the other sideline.  I think we should make this happen.  Wolf Whittingham has a nice ring to it, provided we can clear the red tape with American Gladiators.

Finally, a few more quick ones:

I would rather be nervous about the offense and confident in the defense than vice versa. This one is really just a preference, but it is a reason I have enjoyed watching Utah’s games more than BYU’s games this year.  Ideally a team has both, but until Utah and BYU are getting Big 12 amounts of money every year they won’t get much Big 12 caliber talent.  Utah’s offense can be a frightening train ride, which makes it all the more enjoyable to sit back and watch the defense with the game.  BYU has a fantastic offense with a lot of weapons, but the defense is often quite shaky.  I have watched both situations applied to both teams over the years, and I think I have come to the decision that I would rather have the great defense, if I have to choose.  Of course, next time Utah has a great offense and a bad defense, I reserve the right to change my mind.

Red is a better uniform color for television than blue. It’s true.  Tiger Woods wears red shirts during his final round for the same reason (or so I have read).  Although the competitive advantage of such a fact is dubious, it is the basis of another reason why I prefer to cheer for Utah: better on television.

Utah’s mascot stinks, but at least it doesn’t have Cosmo’s terrifying face. Swoop the Red-Tailed Hawk is irritating and bothersome, the way most mascots are, but on the other hand, I don’t have nightmares about his hideous face.  I can’t say the same after the inevitable sideline camera close-up of Cosmo the Cougar frightening children in the first 15 rows (tip to the camera guy: stay focused on the cheerleaders).  I wish they would pull Cosmo’s old head out of mothballs.  Maybe it would trick some of the more aged fans into believing it was 1984 again.

Singing “Utah Man” versus dancing the Haka. Remember when Utah head coach Urban Meyer started a new tradition of players singing the Utah fight song on the field after home games, and every fully invested BYU fan decided to make fun of it?  Remember the accusations of Meyer trying to manufacture tradition?  Remember the laughter and the pointing fingers?  Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I give you Defense Exhibit #1: BYU’s version of the Haka.

The Haka is plenty cool when performed under the proper conditions, even as a prelude to a sporting event.  The New Zealand All Blacks Rugby Union team comes to mind.  What relevance it may have to BYU has never been made clear.

Incidentally, the Utah players still gather to sing their fight song at the end of home games.  I haven’t seen the Haka lately, and assume it has been mercifully discontinued.  Please let me know if I am wrong.

With that, I would like to invite responses and replies from BYU fans, or arguments in support from Utah fans.  I am pretty certain I know everyone who reads this, so I acknowledge that I am in essence calling a few people out.  Because this is so late in coming, I don’t mind at all if it comes after the game; I just want to hear your points.  I suspect there may be one or two “I’m a fan of BYU because they beat Utah” responses the game doesn’t go the way I hope on Saturday, and so be it.

My final prediction: Utah 31, BYU 21

Zach’s High-Road Rebuttal

Josh’s Epic Defense

Mice grow to terrifying proportions in Southern California

Our original intent for this blog makeover was to have it double as a sort of travelogue for our various adventures, but things haven’t quite worked out that way yet.  I imagine we will try to address that shortcoming soon, perhaps as a potential New Year’s Resolution (which, at the rate of our posting, could very well be the next entry after this), but the result of our laxity is there are now a lot of things I want to write about.  This tends to be an early indication of a blog-disaster for me, because of my tendency to be a bit bombastic.

For example, not long ago I set out to post a few thoughts and opinions following the conclusion of the 2008 Summer Olympics.  I started by outlining my 20 favorite things about the games, followed by my 10 least favorite.  Then, I made a third section of events which I would like to see more in the future, followed by those I felt were over-indulged.

I didn’t think the project was overly ambitious in the beginning, but I began to reconsider after I found myself 5,000 words into it and only halfway through the first outlined section.  I could have pressed on and finished it, but who would ever take the time to read something like that?  It sits in my files waiting for further enlightenment, which will almost certainly never come.

Anyway, I do want to present some token information about the past few months for The Wandering Moose and me, without running to Ludicrous Speed proportions.  This will hopefully also give us the boost we need to become regulars on our own blog again.  One can only hope.  Now, on to the update:

Sasha the Swedish Vallhund

Our most recent post before this was about the unfortunate knee injury our dog had sustained while running in our backyard.  The diagnosis was a torn anterior cruciate ligament, which required surgery to repair if we wanted her to ever walk on all four legs again.  Our veterinarian recommended the procedure, and not just because he was building onto his house again.  Sasha is six years old, and has become a genuine part of our peculiar little family.  She will be with us for many years yet, and should not be relegated to tripod jokes for the rest of her life just so we can save a few dollars.  Besides, she already had the same surgery on her driver’s-side rear leg not long ago (this time was passenger’s-side rear), so she would have a matching set.

As I write this, Sasha is stretched out in her favorite IKEA dog bed near my feet, happily snoozing the evening away.  She walks without any limp whatsoever, and if not for the amusing slow-growth bare patch on her rump, a casual observer would not know she had been injured.  It took a year for her fur to completely grow back last time, so I am not worried about it, but T.W. Moose is nervous.  My actual concern is with winter knocking at the door she will be meandering around our snow-covered yard several times a day to conduct her business without fur to keep her surgically repaired knee warm.  It would seem I’m in for another year of shoveling paths in the snow for her, which I don’t mind doing, but it’s a practice that draws scorn and ridicule from my dad.

In somewhat more recent news, a few weeks after her surgery, Sasha developed a bladder infection that was causing her to “leak” all over her various beds and our kitchen floor.  She didn’t seem to be in physical pain, aside from putting her ears back at the cursing and empty threats that came from me every time I had to clean up one of her unpleasant warm puddles.  Worse still, it happened just before we were supposed to leave on a two-week vacation, and she was scheduled to split time between my parents and my brother and sister-in-law.  Lucky for us, her medicine kicked in quickly, and my family was all good sports, so we were free to go on our extravaganza vacation to points south.

Sasha seems to be in the clear now, although she has decided to start barking to go outside at 4:30 in the morning, which is definitely not cool with night owls like me and T.W. Moose.  Sasha is 10 for 10 in early-morning barking during the last week and a half.  Honestly, I wonder sometimes why we put up with that dog.  Well, not really – I know why we put up with her.  It’s because we are goofy, overly attached dog “parents” who love our fuzzy little princess.  Which is probably every bit as ridiculous as it sounds, but we’re happy with it.

Tenth Anniversary Southern California Extravaganza

T.W. Moose and I left Kearns, Utah on Sunday, September 21st; travelled to Las Vegas, Nevada for a single-night stop; continued on to San Diego, California until Friday, September 26th; and then finished our trip in Anaheim, California for the remaining eight days.  We drove home in one long day on Saturday, October 4th.

We intend on creating a full day-by-day recreation of our vacation, as nothing less would be adequate for our questionable purposes.  But, until that mythical day arrives and we make good on our threat, I would like to share the first few impressions that come to mind:

Las Vegas is Disgusting Outside, Interesting Inside. I’m trying to not sound like a prude, but is it possible to stroll down the Las Vegas Strip (as we did our first night of vacation) without feeling like you have undertaken the visual equivalent of licking a gas station bathroom floor?  I personally struggle enough in avoiding that sort of thing anyway, without it being plastered all over every available surface.  I know Vegas is supposed to be a pleasure-seekers’ paradise, and people are welcome to enjoy themselves however they choose, but between the billboards, the posters, and the people handing out cards, the Vegas Strip is repulsive at street-level.

In Vegas, Lady Liberty is wearing a thong (not pictured)

On the other hand, there is no other experience quite like walking into a big-time Las Vegas casino.  Even if you are only there for sightseeing, there is a discernable buzz that you can sense even just walking through one of those Temples of Excess.  Some of the newest casinos are moving away from the era of theatrical design, but nearly all of the big, famous ones (Caesar’s Palace, Treasure Island, The Luxor, The Mirage, etc.) have a central theme.  In one visit to Las Vegas, you can also immerse yourself in a cultural appreciation (used loosely) of Paris, Venice, Ancient Rome, Pirate Ships, the South Seas, Medieval Castles, Egypt, and so on.  The attention to detail in some of these places is noteworthy, and on occasion even reaches “Disneyan” standards.

T.W. Moose and I are big fans of Disney Theme Parks, as most people who know us are aware, so such a comparison rates highly in my book.  In fact, the so-called “theming” of Disney properties is one of the things we most enjoy about our vacations.  There is an exceptional attention to detail in everything, from the blatantly obvious to the very subtle.  I acknowledge that some people may not get a kick out of such things (or, at least, get a kick out of a cartoon mouse being central to the designer’s palate), but we do.  It’s one of the many things that keep us coming back.

Anyway, as we were wandering through a few casinos our first evening and observing the surroundings, I wondered how many adults in the Vegas party crowd would sneer (yes, sneer) at the idea of having fun in a theme-saturated place like Disneyland, but think nothing of sitting down in front of a Julius Caesar slot machine, in the middle of a reproduction of Roman Architecture, with statues to Roman gods and goddesses around, and surrounded by employees of the facility dressed in quasi-period costumes?  I was not passing judgment on either point-of-view, just intrigued by the striking similarities.

San Diego is Awesome. San Diego was the site of our honeymoon in 1998, and the idea of a sentimental return for our tenth anniversary seemed perfect.  The self-proclaimed “America’s Finest City” seems to always suffer a bit in comparisons to its large neighbor to the north, but taken as a whole, I would much rather spend a vacation in the San Diego Area than the Los Angeles Area.  In fact, removing the Disneyland Resort and a few other minor attractions (Mrs. Knott’s Chicken Dinner being one) from the equation, I would be okay with the idea of not visiting Los Angeles altogether.

Beauty and the Beach

T.W. Moose and I took in the whales at Sea World and the pandas at the Zoo, enjoying every moment of it.  We also spent time in La Jolla with the surf and sea lions, and watching the sunset paint the sky.  I have always loved the stately blending of color as the sun dips behind the Oquirrh Mountains here in Salt Lake City, but there is nothing quite as sublime as sunset over the ocean.

My paternal grandparents met in San Diego.  She was a hard-working recent transplant from Oklahoma living with her sister, and he was a Marine preparing for the Pacific Theater of World War II.  He once told me that she refused his marriage proposal twice before finally accepting the third. Another story, as I have been told, is that when he shipped out he gave her a train ticket back to his home in Salt Lake City and told her to find his family; that they would take care of her.  When the young, anxious, and naturally self-conscious girl arrived at my great-grandparents’ home, they met her with open arms.  They had never met her, but she became a part of their family from the first embrace.

I am certain there are many similar stories from that great and terrible era of world history, but that one has always helped me understand, in a very small way, the sacrifices of those generations who fought for the very fragile liberties I often take for granted.  Standing with my sweetheart in the same places they stood, I tried to imagine their hope and faith, as they embarked on a new life, together and yet not together.  I like to think that I possess enough courage to have fought aboard an aircraft carrier or in the jungles of Guadalcanal, but I don’t know.   I also like to think that I am brave enough to board a train to an unfamiliar place, leaving behind everything I know, for an uncertain future; but again, I cannot tell.  I do know that I will be forever grateful for two people who were brave enough and courageous enough; and that love and admiration, more than anything, is how I feel when I think of my grandparents in San Diego.

I Could Live at Disneyland. Eight straight days at Disneyland may sound like a Herculean feat to some, but it was just a good beginning for me and T.W. Moose.  I completely understand that The Happiest Place on Earth is not for everyone, and I actually promote that idea.  Because the lines are long enough as it is.

At least someone is happy at Disneyland...

I am not a parent, so I don’t know how endearing (or difficult to ignore) the pleas of children can be, but I always feel a bit melancholy to see irritated parents hauling their kids around Disneyland out of a sense of obligation.  These are the people who spend their time in the park in an exasperated huff because they think it’s too expensive, or because the lines are too long, or because in their very refined opinion, it’s stupid for adults to be there.  Again I disclaim having direct parental experience, but why not just spend your vacation time and money somewhere else?  It seems to me that a day full of complaining about Disneyland with your children in earshot won’t help anyone enjoy their time there.

I witnessed this phenomenon several times during our many hours in the park, and it was unfortunate each time.  The parents detested every moment and the kids weren’t having fun, because, in a sense, they didn’t have permission to.  Who can genuinely enjoy themselves with a guilty conscience?  If someone is being told, in essence, that the whole family is only here at this STUPID place for YOU, even though I want to be home watching the NASCAR race, so you had better have FUN spending MY MONEY because what I want clearly doesn’t MATTER in this family… well… that’s quite a burden for a little spirit.  I watched these families shamble by with a small twinge of sadness.

But just a small twinge – I was in Disneyland, after all.

Well, this update is already running long, as I feared, so I think I am going to end it here.  There were a few more items on my outline, including notes about our family deer hunting trip, and something I had already tentatively titled: “It’s The Most Wonderful Time of the Year (For Sports).”  It’s safe to say that a few bullets have been dodged today.

How could anyone resist this face?

Our posts to this blog are seasonally sporadic, by which I mean they are sporadic in the summer, winter, spring and fall. We are trying to be more frequent in our efforts, but we are also both busy enough that it is assigned a much lower priority than we may otherwise like. Besides, it’s not like anyone we know relies on this blog as a source of news about us. I was going to use this post as an opportunity to write about the new Batman movie, but an event in our lives has trumped all else, and it’s only proper for me to describe that, instead.

The story actually starts in 2005 when Sasha, our pet dog (and child substitute), tore the anterior cruciate ligament on her left rear leg as she was running in from the backyard. I watched it happen: she stepped in a gopher hole, let out a little yip, and came hobbling toward me on three legs; her ears were back in pain and worry. That misstep led to a visit to the vet, followed by X-rays, surgery, hiding antibiotics in treats, and weeks of recovery. We spent more than a few worried hours, laughed a bit, cried a bit (figuratively speaking – I don’t remember shedding actual tears, and it’s safe to say that if I didn’t, The Wandering Moose didn’t either), and lightened our bank account. It felt like a long and frustrating experience, although ultimately everything worked out fine and Sasha made a complete recovery. She even grew back all the fur on her hindquarters after a year or so, which was nice because they shaved her entire leg and hip for the surgery, leaving a bare turkey-leg shaped patch of skin. T.W. Moose had been very pessimistic about total regrowth ever happening, but it did.

That meant we had a little better understanding of what it meant when she pulled up into another three-legged hobble a few weeks ago. Once again, she was running in from our backyard (which is apparently much more dangerous than I realized) when she stopped at our deck stairs in obvious distress. I did not see it happen this time, but the leg held up close to her body – the right leg this time – and pinned back ears were telling. A visit to our veterinarian the next day confirmed it: another torn ACL, so she would have a matching set on her rear legs.

We had been told the first time that ACL surgery was pretty common in dogs, and now we found out that if the first one should go out, it increased the odds of the opposite leg tearing in the future. Sasha is a Swedish Vallhund, which is a rare enough breed that most people have either never heard of it, or they pretend they have and we don’t believe them. We are not certain if knee problems are common with the breed (from our experience: yes) but she has an unusual physiology. Swedish Vallhunds have thick, muscular bodies with short legs, and were initially bred for herding cattle and riding on Viking ships. One could build a fairly accurate model of Sasha by taking a large bratwurst and two toothpicks, then breaking each toothpick in half and sticking them in the bratwurst as legs.

Anyway, the surgery was scheduled for a week later (something about letting the blood drain from her knee); it went very well, and we brought her home the same day. After her first surgery we struggled with keeping her bandages in place because of the rather drastic taper in her short legs. It was no different this time, and she had her wrappings off before even leaving the animal hospital. We probably should have taken this as a bad omen, but Sasha had been good not to bother the surgery wound the previous time, so the vet decided she would be okay to go home without bandages.

I swear, I wasn't playing with that toy.

Almost at once she was busy licking her newly shaved leg and trying to “investigate” the stitches. But, it was still the first night, and she was a bit strange and unsteady after the procedure, so we hoped it was just an effect of the anesthesia. Regardless, we found some bandages and covered her leg ourselves, hoping for the best.

Everything went okay for the first two days. We were each coming home from work for lunch, so she was never alone for more than a few hours. She always managed to remove one layer of her bandages, but there was a final, untouched layer that was keeping her from the area. Then, on the third day after her surgery, T.W. Moose came home to find all the bandages gone and the stitches completely torn out. To complicate matters, our vet’s office is closed on Thursdays and, of course, Sasha had thoughtfully chosen a Thursday to commit her crime.

Now, there may be someone reading this who can’t believe the stupidity of T.W. Moose and me at this point for not putting an “Elizabethan collar” or “E-collar” (one of those cone things) on Sasha so she couldn’t bother her leg. They probably figure that we are too indulgent of our dog and don’t want her to be unhappy with us, so we leave it off. They would probably tell us that we simply have to make her wear it and tolerate her bad mood, because tearing stitches out is too great of a concern. I suspect this is true, because we have heard as much before, from several different sources.

I will admit that T.W. Moose and I are guilty of over-indulging our dog, and treating her too much like our child. We don’t make her do much she doesn’t like, with the irregular exceptions of being bathed and having her claws trimmed. However, she will not wear an E-collar. I know, I know – we just have to square our shoulders and tolerate the sad looks, right? No, I mean she will simply not wear it, for two reasons. The first is that her unusual body shape means she tapers from her neck down to her nose. After her first surgery the vet assistant tried to fit her with an E-collar, and I told her I didn’t think it would work because she could get out of collars without any problem. The assistant gave me a patient little smile and told me that I just had to tie the collar tighter than I would expect, but not to worry because dogs had tough necks. I told her that I knew dogs had tough necks, but Sasha was tapered like a torpedo and wouldn’t keep it on. Not believing me, she demonstrated by putting the collar on Sasha with a soft band to tie it in place, and showed me with great care just how tight to make it. The assistant stood up to admire her handiwork and give me another patient smile, and then Sasha reached up, and with a single swipe of her paw, knocked the collar off and onto the floor. It was on her neck for about a second-and-a-half. It was one of the rare occasions where I was actually happy that Sasha had misbehaved, and it took a great deal of willpower to not do some sort of victory/I-told-you-so dance. (To her great credit, the assistant apologized at once for not believing me, and was even a bit embarrassed. It was awesome.)

The second reason is: even if we can get the collar to stay in place, Sasha does not tolerate it. I don’t mean she hangs her head and looks sad, but she tears around and throws herself against walls trying to get it off. It is quite scary to watch as over-indulgent dog “parents,” because it looks the entire time like she is going to hurt herself even further; keeping in mind that she only has three good legs to work with. It may be that if we could just leave it on she would learn to tolerate an E-collar, but because both of us work, we have to be able to leave her alone for a few hours at a time.

You will suffer dearly for this injustice...

So T.W. Moose found herself with a bit of a problem. Not only had Sasha pulled off her bandages and torn out her stitches, but she seemed to have eaten the bandages, and the vet’s office was closed. She called our vet’s emergency contact, which is a different facility called Central Valley Veterinary Hospital , and explained the situation. Fortunately, Central Valley was able to get us in before their Extended Care hours, which ended up saving us a bit on the bill.

From this point, the story takes a happy turn. The people at Central Valley were fantastic, and very helpful. The doctor there put a dozen staples in Sasha’s leg, which they could do without having to put her under, and told us about a product that would make all the difference: a BiteNot Collar. It functions like a whiplash collar for a human and simply restricts her from moving her head from side to side. There is an additional buckle system that straps under her forelegs to keep everything in place, negating the “torpedo effect” so Sasha can’t pull it off. It looks uncomfortable, but I don’t believe it is, because Sasha is tolerating it surprisingly well; certainly much better than an E-collar. We keep it on her night and day, and she gives us dirty looks from time to time, but it provides us with peace of mind when we are sleeping or at work (and contributes unexpected comedy relief to the whole drama).

We also found a little clump of digested tape and gauze on the lawn last night, which resolved our last major concern. The vet believed the amount of tape and gauze she ate could have created a blockage in her intestines that would have become a surgical emergency. But, fortunately for Sasha, all of her systems seem to be working properly, she is living in patience with her restraining collar, and the staples come out in three days. Sasha’s ACL surgery has been a very different experience this time around. We worried less, perhaps, but had more frustration and greater expenses.

The moral of the story: Sasha is never, ever running in our backyard again.

I used to love ice cream. One of my favorite treats was to have a big bowl of vanilla ice cream covered in chocolate syrup and mixed until it looked like a creamy chocolate shake. Another was going to Baskin Robbins where I always had their famous Peanut Butter and Chocolate ice cream. Once in a while we’d go to Cold Stone where I’d get chocolate ice cream with brownie bits mixed in. (Apparently I’m a fan of chocolate…) However, since I have been introduced to the wonderful world of Gelato, regular old ice cream is a thing of the past.

A few months ago, I had never tried Gelato. I had only heard about the mysterious Fine Italian Ice Cream in Italy and The Venetian in Las Vegas, but never had the opportunity to know for myself what it was all about. Fortunately, some good friends of ours opened a Gelato shop a few months ago not too far from my work called Bellissimo Gelato. Before visiting, I didn’t know what to expect. I thought maybe they would have four or five flavors; chocolate, vanilla, berry something or other, maybe a caramel marble swirl or something, but I never anticipated seeing a freezer case containing dozens of flavors! Luckily they have little plastic spoons so you can taste test and make an educated decision before ordering.

On my first visit, I must have tried about 20 different kinds, some of which were: Wild Strawberry, Peach-Mango, Cinnamon, Green Apple, Chocolate, Mascarpone, Watermelon, Forest Berries, Cheesecake, Peanut Butter and Jelly, Caramel, Lemon, Lime, Papaya, Banana, Pineapple, Kiwi, and Coconut. And then I found out you could do a combination of two in your cup, so you didn’t have to just pick one flavor. It took me at least 15 minutes to decide what my first official order was going to be. Finally, I decided to get Wild Strawberry on one side and Pineapple on the other. It was SO fantastic; smooth, delicious and nothing like I had ever tasted. It’s something much better than ice cream ever was. And to know that all my life I had been missing out on this delightful treat!

I ended up going back the next day to try some more; I did another combination and chose Forest Berries and Cheesecake. Again – fabulous. A few days later I tried Lemon and Chocolate. Delectable! I was hooked. I’ve been back more times than I care to admit and have tried all their flavors. (They keep making new ones too!) Recently they added Almond, Peach, Peanut Butter & Chocolate, and Mango. All delicious. In fact, now they have a few Sugar-Free flavors (Chocolate, Raspberry and Custard) and they are every bit as tasty as the others. (I’ve tried them, surprised?) You can get a small, medium or large in a cup, as well as pints and quarts in nifty containers that keep it cold for a surprisingly long time. They now offer “frequent indulger” cards that can be punched with every order. I’m already well on my way to free Gelato, what could be better?!

Visit Bellissimo Gelato at 5500 South 900 East, Murray UT. You won’t be disappointed. All their machinery for making and storing the Gelato (made daily) is imported from Italy and they use only the freshest ingredients. From now on, if there’s ice cream around I’ll be wishing it was Gelato from Bellissimo. I’m a changed woman. I crave Gelato. Ice cream is so 5 months ago!

If you’d like to read another review on Bellissimo Gelato, click here.

I would like to apologize in advance for this post, which is very long. I hope to trim down the word count in future trip reports, or perhaps break it up into days, but I am leaving this one as is – in spite of certain warnings I have received about nobody wanting to read long posts. Thank you, and again, I’m sorry.

One of the primary reasons The Wandering Moose and I brought this blog back to life was to post trip reports of our vacations. We are big fans of travel, although in our current financial situation that means we are big fans of watching the Travel Channel. I would love to go with T.W. Moose on a historic and cultural tour of northern Europe, or take a multi-month Camera Safari through as much of Africa as possible (See our last post for a more detailed breakdown). However, we are still on a young, married couple’s mac-and-cheese budget, so instead we plan scenic road trips through Central Utah on our way to visit her dad (don’t laugh – it’s a blast and we have done it three years running now). This is why two of our current favorite places are within a reasonable distance to our home in Kearns, Utah; and relatively low-cost.

The two destinations in question are Yellowstone National Park and Disneyland. I am not sure which of the two is my very favorite, although I have pondered the question often. At the moment I would say Yellowstone is at the top of my list, although it is close. I cannot even begin to guess for T.W. Moose (her favorite may be Hawaii, actually), but I know she is also a fan of both.

[Quick Note: I would also like to add that I am not complaining about our opportunities in any way. We are very fortunate to travel as often as we do, which is frequently at the generosity of others. My Mom and Dad have been overwhelming in that vein - and without them we would not have been on most of our favorite vacations. T.W. Moose and I look forward to taking them to amazing places in the future. We are more lucky and blessed than we deserve, and we try to be properly grateful for those things. Thank you for indulging me and whatever is left of my conscience - I will now return to the self-congratulation that encapsulates my part of this blog.]

We go to Yellowstone for the scenery and unique landscape, of course, but our primary goal is to see the abundant and sometimes elusive wildlife. Part of what makes it such a special destination is the astounding variety it offers. America’s First National Park is a world class destination for geyser gazers, wildlife watchers, hikers, backpackers, and fisherpersons (fisherpeople?), to name a few. I would guess most people come for the geothermal features, which is a great reason, and one of my favorite things to do as well.

We try to go about once a year, and planned a quick trip there with my Mom and Dad for the first weekend in June. All four of us were experienced animal spotters (there is more of a talent to it than one might think), and we had a good general idea of both where we wanted to look, and what time we wanted to be there.

June 5, 2008

The adventure began at my Mom and Dad’s house in the late afternoon of June 5th. It was a Thursday, and we planned to be gone from that evening through to Sunday evening. We picked up T.W. Moose early from work and hit the road just after 5:00 – hoping to get ahead of the worst part of the traffic.

There are several ways to drive from Salt Lake City to Yellowstone, although we typically choose either of the two main routes. The first and most common for our family vacations in the modern era is to drive north on I-15 until Idaho Falls, then jump onto US Highway 20 and continue through Island Park until the terminus at West Yellowstone, Montana. It is a very simple and straightforward drive, although not very scenic in the traditional sense until after Ashton, Idaho. It also takes about 6 hours to accomplish, not including various stops.

The other sensible route meanders north along the Utah/Wyoming border, cuts through the amazing Star Valley, and drops into the very fashionable Jackson, Wyoming. This is a much more scenic road, particularly after Jackson, as it then passes through Grand Teton National Park on the way to the South Entrance of Yellowstone. When we have used that route in the past we have continued through the park to the West Entrance and West Yellowstone, where we like to stay. This is a 9 to 10 hour drive, not counting stops.

We had already decided to take the first route, but with an unorthodox twist. Because of the late hour we would be stopping for the night in Idaho Falls, and then continue up to Yellowstone the next day. We had driven straight through many times before, but this seemed like a nice opportunity to do two-thirds of the drive on the first day and then it would be a short couple of hours to the park in the morning. So, with that itinerary in mind we pointed the hood north to begin fighting our way through the traffic.

The Salt Lake/Davis County/Ogden traffic snarl was not quite as bad as I had feared, and before long we were in the clear and headed for the Idaho border. Soon enough we reached Downey, Idaho, and stopped at a family tradition: The Flags West Truck Stop.

Downey itself is a quiet little town of 650 people that is several miles off the interstate road. Flags West Truck Stop is on the freeway exit for Downey, and while technically a part of the town, you can’t see any other buildings from there. We like to stop and eat here at least once per Yellowstone vacation. I am not sure how long it has been a tradition for us (I was much more unobservant as a child), but I would hazard a guess that it has been in the 20-25 year range.

Flags West has not changed much that I can remember. Like many truck stops it is divided into half a restaurant and half a mini-mart style convenience store. It is set on a rise in the middle of sagebrush flats in southeastern Idaho, which makes it a target destination for miles around. The men’s restrooms (which are generally “clean enough” although have never been “sparkling” when I am there) have condom machines mounted on the wall near the urinals, which were the first of their kind I had ever seen, and much more interesting to me at age 12 than they are now. Directly outside of the restrooms are several shelves of convenient knick-knacks for the truckers and a collection of typical souvenirs for the tourists. The restaurant has about a dozen vinyl-seated booths in the main room and several rows of tables in the banquet area.

I should mention by way of explanation that my personal rating system for dining establishments is flawed from the inset. Food and dining experiences are an essential part of my travel and vacationing fun (more than they probably ought to be, if I’m being honest), so the location, the ambiance, the mood, and especially the company play as important parts as the meal itself. I can’t imagine a self-respecting “foodie” even acknowledging this dot on the map in the middle of a desolate stretch of Idaho; but because I am on the way to my favorite vacation destination with my favorite traveling companions (T.W. Moose and my parents), it will get a higher score.

With that disclaimer in mind, I would happily award the Flags West Truck Stop Diner 4 out of 5 stars, and it has been that consistently good since I can remember. It is standard greasy-spoon fare, where they serve breakfast any time and it’s often the best choice on the menu. I went with the Super Willie burger, which is a typical excellent diner hamburger turned sublime by the addition of a slice of ham and a fried egg. The egg is an indulgence I learned about while I was in Sweden, and highly recommended to anyone who has never tried it and can get a permission slip from their cardiologist. Other delicacies around our table were chicken fried steak, pancakes, bacon (perfectly cooked, according to T.W. Moose), hash browns, and fantastic, dinner-plate sized fry bread (which we often call “scones” in Utah and Idaho, which is a little odd, because they are very different from proper scones).

We arrived in Idaho Falls an hour later, our hearts still palpitating from the cholesterol overload, and settled into our rooms at the Best Western Driftwood. The rooms were not much different from any chain motel, meaning they were clean and pleasant without being spectacular. We had hoped for adjoining rooms, and although they couldn’t accommodate that request, we were told that our rooms were “right across from each other.” We soon discovered this meant they were on opposite sides of the small parking lot, but it was, technically, directly across from each other. My mom and dad’s room smelled strongly of tobacco smoke and someone had left the bathroom heat fan on in ours, but we shrugged off the inconsequential details and settled in for a good night’s sleep. We were getting started early the next day.

June 6, 2008

I slept terribly that night, waking up 30,000 times (an estimate – I didn’t actually count) and finding the bed uncomfortable through the duration. This was not a very good sign, considering I was the designated chauffeur, but we had plenty of drivers in the car in case I began to get drowsy. We pointedly ignored the alarm at 6:15, as well as the snoozes at 6:22 and 6:29. At 6:36 we jumped up and started running around so we could meet Mom and Dad at 6:45. By a miracle of physics I managed to squeeze a shower, dressing and hurried repacking of my bag into nine minutes. T.W. Moose did well with her hair care and morning preparations, and we were only a minute late for the rendezvous.

The continental breakfast at the motel was unremarkable (1 ½ stars) save for the extra concentrated apple juice, which I ended up drinking and enjoying in a strange way. It tasted dangerous, somehow. Like when you mix two flavors that don’t quite go together and will probably end up making you sick, but it’s just interesting enough that you keep eating or drinking it anyway. Other people do that, right? It’s not just me? Anyway, I did not get sick, and we soon found ourselves on Highway 20 headed toward Island Park and Yellowstone.

The weather began to turn for the worse as we were driving through Ashton and up onto the caldera. We had been watching the forecasts and were prepared for rain and snow showers. Although it was June, Yellowstone Park is high mountain country and it can snow any month of the year there. We figured we may see a few flakes and a few raindrops, but nothing significant; and it could even improve the animal spotting. It was quite cold for that time of the year – about 40 degrees Fahrenheit – when we made it to West Yellowstone.

Our favorite place to stay in West Yellowstone is the One Horse Motel, which I have mentioned before on this blog. Nick and Becky are the proprietors, and it is located in the middle of the town, across from the city park. It is a fairly basic establishment – there is no swimming pool or espresso bar for those who like the extras. But the rooms are always spotless, with comfortable beds and a ton of charm. I am not sure whether this next tidbit indicates how great the One Horse is or how goofy we are, but we like it so much that T.W. Moose and I have Nick and Becky on our Christmas card list.

We dropped off a few bags and headed for the West Entrance of Yellowstone, which is about three blocks away from the One Horse. For those who have never been, Yellowstone is a very big place. It comprises 3,472 square miles (or 2,219,789 acres, which I wrote here because I couldn’t decide which one sounded more impressive) with just over 300 miles of paved roads. The roads make a large figure-eight, providing access to the famous thermal features, canyons, waterfalls, and vistas. Five additional roads come off either the Upper Loop or the Lower Loop to meet five separate entrances into the park. We rarely venture too far away from these main areas, although T.W. Moose and I have hiked to several different lakes and waterfalls in past trips. For this one, though, we were looking mostly for wildlife, and would be staying on the main paths.

High water was our first impression of the park. The Madison River meadows were flooded, so the bison and elk we often see there were either standing on high spots – islands of grass in the water – or were up to their knees as they browsed for food. Dad spotted a bald eagle high in a tree along the Madison, which we watched at a respectful distance for a few minutes and imagined it was studying the river for morning breakfast. I took it as a good omen to start the day.

We decided to visit the more popular Lower Loop first, which would include a stop to pay our respects to the most famous geyser in the world: Old Faithful. The road between Madison Junction and Old Faithful has the largest concentrations of geyser basins in the park, and although we did not stop at any of them during this particular trip, we have often in the past. Instead we continued to the Old Faithful junction and drove around until we found the Lodge, where we went inside to watch the namesake erupt.

The Old Faithful complex is a confusing cluster of buildings. There are several different stores, along with a lodge, a ranger station, and an inn, which are all significant places, and each of those has a store, as well (it is the ranger station, I believe, that has recently been torn down and is being rebuilt). There is a snow inn for winter visitors, complete with its own store and cafeteria, but is also open year-round. In fact, when we did the same basic trip last year with T.W. Moose’s mom and stepdad, we almost literally stumbled into yet another store that I had never even seen before, but had been there for decades. I have been to Old Faithful many times in my life, but I still have an incomplete picture of where all the pieces are in relation to each other. Something about the place simply skews my sense of spatial reasoning. The same phenomenon is also true for me with the city of Las Vegas, for reasons I don’t understand.

After wandering around the store in the Old Faithful Lodge we got back on the road, continuing counter-clockwise on the Lower Loop. There was still a great deal of snow on the side hills, and we could see storm clouds lurking in the distance, but we knew it rains nearly every afternoon in Yellowstone anyway, even in the dry summer months. A little precipitation was expected.

The snow did give us something to look at, though, along the stretch of road that goes from Old Faithful to Fishing Bridge. We rarely, if ever, see wildlife along there, and the scenery only changes when we come down from the Continental Divide and drive along the enormous Yellowstone Lake. The lake is impressive, of course, but after the first few minutes of shoreline the passengers in the vehicle are finally lulled to sleep by the seemingly repetitive vistas, beautiful though they may be, and the driver is left to contemplate the road in silence.

We did break up the Lake stretch of road by stopping for a picnic lunch in a turnout. We ate in the car because of high, cold winds that none of us wanted to endure. We had forgotten to bring a loaf of bread for our turkey or bologna sandwiches, but we found one in the Grant Village store, which had a modest selection of food items. The bread was just about at the end of its usable shelf-life, but the travel and the clean mountain air had given us all an appetite (as Cervantes writes in Don Quixote: “Hunger is the best sauce in the world.”). I am not sure how to rate our picnic lunch, but I will go with 2 ½ stars because it was in the park, although all we really could see were a lot of lodgepole pine trees. It was a welcome meal, at any rate.

Our next stop after lunch was the Fishing Bridge General Store, which is one of our favorite stores in the park. If it has not become obvious from the narrative, we like to stop in these places and look around. I don’t often buy things, but I do enjoy browsing, and T.W. Moose shares my interest. She sometimes finds little items to add to her collections (namely keychains, decks of cards, and bags; and we both collect pins), but for the most part, it’s the fun of looking that draws us to the stores.

While in the Fishing Bridge store we noticed that the snow had begun in earnest, and cars coming from both the East Entrance Road and around the Lower Loop had snow packed grills. None of us had ever been in Yellowstone during the winter, and while T.W. Moose and I had been in snow once, it hadn’t been much more than a few modest flakes. We finished our shopping and headed out, first down the East Entrance road as far as Mary Bay (a beautiful bay of Yellowstone Lake where Mom and Dad had seen a grizzly bear before), then doubling back to continue along the Lower Loop road. We were still unconcerned about the weather.

Soon enough we began approaching the Hayden Valley, which is along much of the eastern quarter of the Lower Loop road. There had been no letup to the snow, and in fact it seemed we were moving deeper into the storm. Hayden Valley is a large, open grassland surrounding the Yellowstone River where bison like to congregate. It is also a haven for the park’s other animals, and over the years we have seen elk, moose, coyotes, and black bears there – among others. We often see the bison right on the roadway, and with a car full of capable spotters it was very likely we would see something else, as well.

As it turned out, we saw snow. With no trees to break up the wind it began piling snow on the road and became a near-whiteout through the Hayden Valley. We did pull into the Mud Volcano area (which has some interesting thermal features) after noticing a few bison covered in snow and we wanted to take a picture of them. The park was quite busy that day, and in spite of the serious snow there was a bus full of tourists looking at the massive animals, as well. One of the tourists had been coming down a boardwalk stairway from looking at other thermal features when a bison stepped right across the walk, not 20 feet in front of him. It was a tense situation, in spite of the seeming placidity of the bison. After a few moments the animal turned and took a few running steps toward the man, who scrambled off the boardwalk and tried to hide behind a small sapling. The bison, satisfied or amused by the display, turned back and started wandering to where his fellows stood. The tourist quickly made his way back to the bus (we took wagers on whether he had to change his pants) and we all continued down the road.

The snow was frustrating on several levels as we carefully paralleled the big river. First, it made the roads quite treacherous, regardless of how fast we were going. We slipped quite a bit in the corners in spite of the all-wheel drive system on our Hyundai Santa Fe. Second, and somewhat less critical, we couldn’t see the animals. Since the bald eagle on the Madison River that morning we really had not spotted much of anything out of the ordinary except the snow. Not that I wish to take the endangered bison for granted, but the casual visitor sees a lot of them. We wanted to see a greater variety.

After a long while we made it out of the Hayden Valley and into some trees, where the shelter made for easier driving. Our next stop was the Canyon area, where we wanted to take Mom and Dad through the new Canyon Visitor Education Center, which has an incredible interactive map (I have a minor obsession with maps) and very interesting displays. Upon arriving, however, we found that the storm had knocked out most of their power. They had enough to run the heating, the bathrooms, and to nobody’s surprise, the store. The rest of the museum was dark, and they had no idea when they would be able to get it running. My dad, who is a Master Electrician (that’s his actual degree, not just a cool-sounding nickname), told us that they had probably lost a phase (and we nodded, even though we only had the vaguest idea what that meant) and so we shouldn’t expect them to have it running any time soon. Disappointed, we climbed back into the car and continued down the road.

We drove across a high, snowy pass in the middle of the figure-eight road, dropping down into lower elevations where the snow had been mostly rain. Better still, the sun was peeking out from the storm clouds by then, and we suddenly found ourselves reinvigorated. Rather than continuing out of the park, as we had thought, we decided to drive up the west quarter of the Upper Loop, which led from Norris Junction to Mammoth. We always see interesting animals along that stretch, as it has prominent high mountain meadows and abundant water. We drove all the way up to the highest meadows before the road drops into Mammoth Hot Springs, and saw a few more elk, but nothing like we were hoping.

There is a stretch of road along that part of the park full of beaver dams and willows, which is considered ideal habitat for moose. As I have mentioned before in this blog, T.W. Moose’s favorite animal is (surprise!) the noble moose, so finding one is a significant goal for us. We like to keep a list of the animals we see, and for the past few years, the moose has been the most difficult to add to the list. With that goal in mind we trolled along that stretch, focused and intent on finding something. We said things like “you just think you would see a moose out there” every few minutes.

However, it just was not going to happen that day.

A bit disappointed, we turned down the western curve of the Lower Loop until we reached the Madison Junction and drove out of the park. It would have been wrong to call it a bad day, but it did not live up to our expectations. We all had experienced something new in the snow storm, and that would make for a good story later, but we were still a bit wound up by the white-knuckle drive. Actually, to be fair, perhaps it was only me that was still wound-up from that part of the drive. Regardless, we were all tired and ready to be done with our first day. As we drove into West Yellowstone I had a dull headache, I was tired, and all I wanted to do was crawl into bed.

We arrived back at the One Horse Motel and went to our separate rooms (right next to each other, unlike at the Driftwood) to freshen up for dinner. My freshening was accomplished by flopping onto the bed and making comfortable grunting noises every few seconds. T.W. Moose went into the bathroom and closed the door, I think in part because my noises were irritating her. About 15 minutes later we met to go eat dinner at another of our favorite places in West Yellowstone.

Three Bear Restaurant (or “The Three Bears,” as we like to call it) is another common stop during Yellowstone Park trips for the Nelson clan, and may very well have saved the vacation for me that evening. That is my opinion in part because we had great food and refreshing caffeinated beverages, but mostly because I felt so good after the meal was done and had some fuel in my furnace again. I had a fantastic open-faced roast beef sandwich and T.W. Moose had a french dip sandwich, which each earned an easy 4 stars from both of us. We cruised back to the One Horse feeling contented and even optimistic about the next day.

June 7, 2008

I did not sleep well again for half of that night, despite having been up early and driving all day, which is tiring in a way (not tiring like digging ditches all day, but it takes a toll). Around 2:00 AM I got out of bed to use the bathroom and in the course of stumbling back I saw my socks on the floor near my shoes. Still in that unthinking half-sleep daze, and not entirely sure why, I put my socks back on and crawled into bed. The next thing I knew it was morning, the alarm was ringing, and I had enjoyed a sound, refreshing rest. I was so excited for the discovery that I told the story three or four times that day.

Breakfast that morning was McDonald’s (2 ½ stars – I am a fan of McBreakfast), which we ate on the road as we began our final day in the park. We saw the bald eagle again, in the exact same tree on the Madison River, and T.W. Moose made a great spot of a different, juvenile bald eagle in a tree very soon after. We started to feel a different energy about the day.

We decided to try the Canyon Visitor Education Center again, but the power was still off when we got there. So we detoured to nearby Artist’s Point where we could view the iconic Lower Falls of the Yellowstone River. The road from Canyon to Tower Falls over Dunraven Pass was also closed because of snow, so we drove back to Norris Junction and then up the west quarter of the Upper Loop to Mammoth.

Although we had been disappointed along this stretch of road the day before, we soon came across a big “animal traffic jam.” It ended up being for a grizzly bear on a distant slope, and T.W. Moose and Dad saw a brief glimpse of it before it disappeared into a thick stand of trees.

Sighting one of the rare or high-profile animals in Yellowstone almost always creates these animal traffic jams, so it is always a bit thrilling to come around a corner and see a cluster of cars and people out taking pictures. The park provides obvious and stern warnings about approaching wild animals in the park, but the excitement of seeing something like a bear always creates genuine idiots out of some people.

I mention this because we saw our first elk calf of the trip once we got to Mammoth Hot Springs. We were watching from the car at a respectful distance when an older man with a point-and-shoot camera traipsed up close enough that he managed to block our view and scare the elk cow and calf away. We rolled our eyes and muttered curses, and then continued on.

From Mammoth we took the spur up to the North Entrance so we could see the Roosevelt Arch. We took a few pictures of the arch with dark storm clouds behind it, which made for great photos, but also signaled the beginning of more bad weather. We never quite saw anything to match the intensity of the snow in Hayden Valley the day before, but we chased storms for most of the day. We jumped in the car and headed back to Mammoth, passing small groups of pronghorns on the road.

Along the northern part of the Upper Loop we found our next animal traffic jam. Our pattern for evaluating these traffic jams is always the same (as I suspect it is for many people): as soon as we notice the clustered cars, we start looking for the cause so we can decide whether we want to stop or not. However, before we saw the animals we saw a park ranger monitoring the situation, which is almost always a good sign for animal watchers. We found a spot to pull over the car and began looking. Right away we all saw a coyote running around in the bottom of a little depression, which was fun to see, but hardly worth the major jam and the park ranger. While we were puzzling at this, Mom cried out: “There are babies!” and we started spotting little, wriggling balls of fluff.

The coyote pups came tearing across the depression toward the adult coyote we had seen at first, followed by another adult coyote that had been with the pups. The second adult approached the first adult in a very submissive posture, low on its stomach and ears back. The first coyote sniffed at the second one, and must have given some sign of acceptance because the second coyote suddenly leaped up and began prancing around with the pups. At once, all the coyotes put their heads back and began to howl, as if they were all so happy to see each other that they couldn’t help themselves. It was one of the most amazing, even moving things I have ever seen during a trip to Yellowstone. Even now, as I’m writing this a month after we returned, I can remember the chills I got listening to the chorus of coyotes. We moved on shortly after so others could take our place and share the same experiences.

Not long we arrived at Roosevelt Junction and continued on to Tower Falls. T.W. Moose and I walked down to see the eponymous falls, which is a short stroll of 150 yards. Tower Falls was beautiful, as always, and as full of water as I had ever seen it. While at the overlook we saw a bighorn sheep with a lamb negotiating a thin trail on a hillside not far away. The second day was already much better than the first.

From Tower we went back to Roosevelt Junction and took the spur road that leads out to the Northeast Entrance. Not long after we found another animal jam, this time for another grizzly bear. We pulled off the road where we could still have a good viewing angle of the bear and made leftover sandwiches for lunch (identical 2 ½ stars from the day before). We could tell the grizzly was very large even though he had to be nearly 600 yards away. He (big, awesome bears are always “he” in my book – unless they have cubs, of course) was busy tearing up the ground for grubs, and ambling along the side of a hill. We watched as we finished off the bologna and then moved on, soon entering the Lamar Valley, which was our primary reason for going this way.

The Lamar Valley may be the best place in the entire park to see wildlife, although the animals are often distant and can require patience and powerful binoculars to see. We have never been there that we failed to see wildlife, even if simply the ubiquitous bison or elk. We often stop to scan the hills across the Lamar River for bears and wolves, which can often be seen in the valley.

As Dad and I glassed the hillside it seemed like every place we would stop we saw more animals. They were nearly always elk or bison, but the sheer volume of animals was astounding. In the bottom of the valley we could see a bison carcass, and a helpful fellow animal watcher told us wolves had been before the most recent storm moved in. In their stead we could see jet black ravens hopping around and picking the bones clean. A few bald eagles had also descended to pick with the ravens, which was interesting to see.

On the other end of the Lamar Valley we found another animal jam. We were told that a pack of wolves had crossed the road minutes before and were busy settling themselves in the trees on the other side. We watched for a minute and I even managed to spot a quick, dark shape as it darted into the undergrowth. Right after that we heard the wolves barking and imagined they were playing with their pups, as they coyotes had been earlier.

The rest of the Lamar Valley was uneventful, although we were on high alert after all of the previous encounters. We made it back to Roosevelt, where we went up to the lodge for dinner. The Roosevelt Lodge was built a century ago when Theodore Roosevelt came to Yellowstone for one of his many trips here. It has been converted into a restaurant and bar, and it is one of our favorite places to eat because of the setting and the ambience, and because the food is almost always good. I had a 4 star plate of barbecued beef brisket, while others at our table enjoyed fried chicken and pasta alfredo.

We decided to start driving out of the park from there, as it would take us several hours to get from Roosevelt to the West Entrance. Near Mammoth we came across our next animal jam, although this one was moving slowly down the road. Bison will sometimes mosey down the roads, unconcerned about the impatient drivers around them, so we began guessing that was the case. At last, we discovered it had been a black bear walking parallel with the road, and the lead car was idling along, keeping time with the bear. This meant that one car got a great, long look at the bear walking, but the 50 or 60 cars behind them – each of whom would have liked to see the bear – missed it entirely. The selfishness and disregard of the people in the lead car bothered me for hours afterward.

Not long afterward we came upon yet another animal jam in the ideal moose habitat area described earlier. This was the biggest jam we had seen yet, and we felt certain this had to be the long-awaited moose. We found a half of a spot to park and T.W. Moose and Dad jumped out to see what was going on. Mom and I stayed with the car, mostly so we could move it if the occasion required. Whatever was there was not immediately obvious, and we kept watching with great interest from the car.

As it turns out, all the excitement was over a pair of beavers… 50 pound rodents that chew down trees. Granted, most of the people congregated for the same reasons we did: we thought there would be a big, impressive animal like a moose. But instead a nature photographer had spotted a pair of beavers and hauled his humongous camera out to start snapping. Passersby saw the gear, assumed the best, and quickly followed suit. Now, beavers are also very reticent animals and rarely seen, so to animal aficionados like we had in our car it was exciting to see them. I’m sure plenty of those who stopped were just as interested, as well. But it was a bit anti-climactic.

Dusk was just beginning to dim the sky as we passed by Norris. Moose country had come and gone without a sighting, but we were still looking. Just before the junction we came upon what would be our last animal jam of the trip, and in some ways the most unexpected.

It was a lone wolf trotting along the road looking for its dinner. Becoming a true lone wolf (if that is what this was) is a bad situation for these very social animals. As is the case when wolves have been drummed out of their packs, it was scrawny and probably very old for a wolf: it looked to be in pretty poor shape. The wolf’s coat was very dark, black for the most part, and seemed to be living its miserable pack-less existence more like a scavenging coyote than a proper, hunting wolf. The wolf drew parallel with our car – not more than 10 yards away from us. We took a few pictures and moved on, not wanting to make the same mistake as we had seen before.

Further down the road between Madison Junction and West Yellowstone we came across another cow and calf elk. We guessed the calf could have been born that same day, as it was easily the smallest we had seen and it followed its mother on shaky, spindly legs. At one point the calf, seized by a sudden curiosity, moved up a hill toward the road as if it was going to try crossing it. Before any of us could get too nervous about that prospect its mother gave a low grunt and it went stumbling back to the protection of her legs.

On the last stretch of road during our last evening in the park we were still holding out hope of the elusive moose, but it was not to be for this trip. We did see one last coyote, which could very well have just popped out of the trees just to bid us farewell, considering how quickly it came and left. It was a fitting way to end a very short and eventful weekend in Yellowstone. My mom calls it “Commando Style” vacationing, which is a perfect way to describe our efforts to cram maximum fun in a minimum of time. And yes, T.W. Moose and I both giggle to ourselves about “going commando” while on vacation whenever she says it. But it’s far too clever a comment on my mom’s part for us to say anything about that.

Back in West Yellowstone I indulged in another personal tradition: Wild West Pizzeria. It is the best pizza I have eaten in West Yellowstone (and there are more choices than you may guess), and could very well be the best pizza I have eaten, ever. I know the location has a lot to do with my enjoyment of their pizza: I am in our favorite One Horse Motel after a day spent in my favorite vacation destination. But I have also eaten it cold once we are back home, and enjoyed it every bit as much. As unexpected as this may sound, one of the world’s best pizza joints (4 ½ stars) is tucked into a small building on a back corner of West Yellowstone, Montana.

June 8, 2008

I don’t have much to write about this day. We checked out of the hotel, did a little shopping, and drove home. We did have breakfast at The Outpost Restaurant (2 ½ stars), who did a decent job of biscuits and gravy (T.W. Moose says her French Toast and Bacon were 4 stars, however). The rest of the day was spent either in the car or at Flags West again (4 stars), where we made a rare double appearance. After that it was just a few short hours until we started seeing familiar outposts of the Wasatch Front, and then we were home.

It was a very unusual vacation in many ways. We had a unique first day in the park followed by an amazing second day, and in spite of the white-knuckle driving and the very few animal sightings, I expect the four of us will remember this trip for years to come. The variety of experiences is certainly one thing that a vacation to Yellowstone has over many other destinations. Each trip is different, even if only in small ways. The thrill moments are not guaranteed, and will almost always surprise you when they do come. That is why I am proud to declare, once and for all, that Yellowstone National Park is my favorite vacation destination in the world.

Well, at least until September when we go down to Disneyland. I will keep you posted.

The Wandering Moose and I have decided to try a new idea in posting to the DFO. We have noted that some of our favorite conversations take place in e-mail we send each other, and thought that could be a possible medium for interesting, post-able discussion. To that end, we are going to pick a subject and send some thoughts back and forth during the day, and then set it up here once we decide to be done. I hope this will turn out to be fun and thought-provoking, but it stands a good chance of being boring for anyone but the two of us. With that note of disclaimer, here is our first post.

T.L.Bear – Hello, my dear! I hope everything is going well with you, and that you are having a good day at work. I almost started this with “Hello, my deer” because the moose is a member of the deer family, and because I like lame jokes. But instead I will just tell you about how I almost did that, which probably isn’t the best idea either. So, I will just move on.

I thought a fun conversation for our first e-mail post could be our favorite vacation destinations. We can discuss both places we have been and places we would like to go. I think it will be good, fertile ground for thoughts, if only because we love vacationing together (it could also be because we happen to be going on vacation tomorrow). I think I will start by listing my first thoughts as to the five places I would most like to take a vacation:

1. Yellowstone

2. Disneyland

3. Sweden

4. England

5. Mayan Riviera

Well, I just looked at that list and already want to change a few things. But I will send this to you as is so you can start your reply, and fix the list in my next post.

T.W. Moose – Hi Babe. Or in this case should I call you “Cub”? (I like lame jokes too :o). Discussing places we have been and would like to go will be fun, since traveling is one of my favorite things. My list is somewhat similar to yours, with a few exceptions:

1. Yellowstone

2. Disneyland

3. Disney World

4. Hawaii

5. Canada

And since you know I’m a woman and don’t like being limited to only a few choices, I’ll go on:

6. Sweden

7. England/Scotland/Ireland

8. Alaska

9. New York (Manhattan)

10. Italy

Am I missing the point of the game in naming too many? I realized after I made the list that coincidentally, the first 5 are places I have already been and the second 5 are places I would love to go. Here are some comments about each of them:

Yellowstone – This is a given and must be at the top of every list that mentions my favorite things.

Disneyland – This is also a given and should also be at the top of “My Favorite Things” list. However, I decided to put Yellowstone first since it’s closer, cheaper and easier to visit on an annual basis than Disneyland.

Disney World – Amazing. The enormity of it was almost overwhelming. It’s no wonder they called it Disney “World”; it’s ginormous and being there feels like you’ve been removed from the planet and dropped into another universe that is all things Disney. I can’t wait to go again!

Hawaii – I have such fond memories of my first and only trip to Hawaii and have always wanted to take you there, you will LOVE it. Maybe 2010?

Canada – This is my heritage (well, half of it) and I can’t believe I still haven’t taken you there. Especially since I’ve been there a handful of times and for a few years went at least once a year. That’s it, we’re going. Canada 2010. Right after we get back from Hawaii… :o)

Sweden – Obviously I want to visit here. I’m tired of seeing all the gorgeous pictures from your mission and hearing the stories without knowing for myself and sharing in the story telling. Sweden 2011!

England/Scotland/Ireland – Since we’re moving there, we’ll see plenty of it. We can go to Sweden while it’s close, so I guess we’ll be living there by 2011. Right?

Alaska – I’ve always wanted to do an Alaskan Cruise. I guess in February we’ll know whether or not cruises agree with my stomach, then we can decide if we want to do a cruise again or just fly up there directly.

New York – Don’t think I want to do longer than a 4-day weekend or something. I just want to see what it’s like in person.

Italy – via the Disney Mediterranean Cruise? Might as well combine one of our favorite things with a new place to see…

What say you?

T.L. Bear – That is a fantastic list, and a great idea – I don’t think you missed the point at all, in fact, I think you created the point. See, this is why you are my muse (among other, more personal reasons): you have the best ideas. Okay, with the new concepts in place, here are my new lists:

Places I have been before:

1. Yellowstone/Grand Tetons

2. Disneyland

3. Sweden

4. Grand Circle/Four Corners/Mesa Verde

5. Walt Disney World

Places I have never been, but want to:

1. Hawaii

2. England/Ireland/Scotland

3. Canada

4. Mayan Riviera

5. France

And a new list: Places I would like to go after we are done visiting those:

1. Germany

2. Washington D.C.

3. San Antonio

4. Italy

5. Alaska

The comments:

Yellowstone/Grand Tetons – I guess we aren’t going to the Tetons on our vacation this weekend, but we should be able to see them from the car. This would probably be on the top of my list for “Favorite Place in the World.”

Disneyland – I still can’t believe we got married on the 47th anniversary of Disneyland, but didn’t realize it until later. I’m sure either of my brothers (or my mom or dad, for that matter) knew, but I was busy thinking about other things (hint: I was thinking about you). Still, it is appropriate now, as you have joined me in becoming a Disney Nerd. Welcome to Nerdsville – sorry about that.

Sweden – This is self-explanatory. I lived here for two years, and although I was a missionary and not a tourist, I just love this country. I can’t wait to take you there. I already have a touring schedule in mind, but it will take about six weeks to complete, so we will have to save up.

Grand Circle/Four Corners/Mesa Verde – I can’t believe I forgot this earlier. This is a recreation of a vacation my parents took us on not long before we got married. It is also somewhat realistic, unlike the “six weeks in Sweden” fantasy. It includes the Grand Canyon, Mesa Verde, and Santa Fe, which are some of my favorite places. Now we just need to work it into our apparently full schedule.

Walt Disney World – This goes without saying, particularly because we are such Disney fans. Strangely, this would probably be higher on my list if we were not going back in nine months or so (sort of like: I know we are going, so I don’t have to wish we were quite as much).

Hawaii – You have been threatening to take me to Hawaii since we met, and I’m game. But you neglected to indicate your favorite island. Is it Poopoolotta? My desire to go has waned just a bit since I became aware of my allergy to pineapples, but I will make the sacrifice and go if you want. :^) The year 2010 sounds about right, if I’m being honest.

England/Ireland/Scotland – I’m glad you included the other countries in your list, as it gave me a chance to update mine. My recent (and surprisingly intense) passion for England has not made me forget Ireland or Scotland, after all. In years past I would have neglected England on this list entirely, and probably just gone for Scotland. Unfortunately for you, we will need to visit Birmingham when we are in England. I write “unfortunately” because while it is a very important and nice city, Birmingham is not really one of the tourist hot spots. However it is the home of Aston Villa FC, and Villa Park; and a pilgrimage to the homeland is required of all adherents before they can be considered true disciples.

Canada – You covered everything I wanted to say about this, so good job! You being half-Canadian (and our children will be one-quarter Canadian) gives this added importance. You know, the Winter Olympics in 2010 are in Vancouver… Of course, you are more of a Calgary girl, so maybe we can borrow Doc Brown’s Delorean and go back to 1988. Either that, or not let the Olympic schedule decide when we go to Canada. Whatever, I’m breezy.

Mayan Riviera – This is partially for the book (Ed. Note: Nate is writing a book, and they often refer to this mythical item as “the book.” It’s mythical because nobody is really sure whether it exists or not.), but also because it is beautiful and has lots of that history stuff that I like so much.

France – I almost went with Italy, so I could be like you, but for some reason I wrote “France.” I have heard that most of the French can’t stand American tourists and that waiters spit on you if you don’t order in the local dialect. In fact, the only redeeming thing I can think about the French right now is their golden brown Fries, and I’m just so-so with those, as you know. Wait, there is Disneyland Paris, I guess. Oh yeah, and the finest museums in the world, the Eiffel Tower, Paris, Lyon, Eze, and the incredible natural beauty. I guess that makes up for everything else. (Incidentally, are the French really so rude, or is that just something made up by Spain’s tourism office? We should ask your sister, J-Lu.) Maybe when we are living in England, and after we visit Sweden we can go there. If we take the Disney Mediterranean Cruise it stops by France, as well. Two on our list for the price of one! Well, almost – considering the cost of those cruises.

Germany – An interesting thing about Germany is not only do we both have family roots, but lots of people we know have ties there. It’s really beautiful, from all the pictures, and we could just make that a part of our European adventure in 2011-2014.

Washington D.C. – This is a nod to my deep love and interest in history. We will have to do this one once we get back from Europe, so maybe, 2015?

San Antonio – I guess this one should have gone on the “Places I have been before” list, but I still want to take you there. Maybe we can combine this with New Orleans, because everyone says we need to go there. We can do some rootin’ and tootin,’ or whatever.

Italy – Great combo idea, but I’m not sure if the Disney Cruise goes to Florence. That would be my favorite city to see, although I wouldn’t mind visiting any of the big ones (Rome, Venice, Milan, Turin, etc.).

Alaska – I agree with this one, and it could get bumped up my list in short notice if your motion sickness cooperates during our upcoming cruise. I would also love to take a fishing trip to Alaska.

Okay, sorry for how long that was, but it’s an exciting subject. One thing is for sure – we need to become independently wealthy in a very short amount of time. Too bad I don’t have Las Vegas anywhere on my list. Maybe I could bump Hawaii :^)…

T.W. Muse, er, I mean Moose – I have just a few comments to your comments:

Disneyland – If my memory serves me right, we got married on the 43rd Anniversary of Disneyland, not the 47th. (Disneyland 1955, married in 1998 – my math isn’t great but I used a calculator and it says 43… :o) And I am perfectly happy being a Disney “Nerd” with you. There was a giant void in my life before I met you and it must have been that I was missing out on Disney all this time! (Or it could be that you are the love of my life and YOU actually filled the void… :o)

Hawaii – I’ve been “threatening” to take you to one of the most beautiful places on the planet? Man, am I scary! JK I think it’s more like I’ve been wishing I could take you there. It’s hard to say what my favorite island paradise was. My first thought is Kaua’i, it was absolutely beautiful. But they were all breathtaking. I would say either Maui or Kaua’i, I guess. So when we go, we’ll have to island hop a little. Oh, and by the way, there isn’t a “T” in the Hawaiian language, so though I appreciate your attempt at making sure “poop” was in our blog, “poopoolotta” does not and could not exist. A+ for effort though. And I thought your allergy to pineapples was only if you ate them, not if you looked at them or stepped foot on an island that produced them. It’s not like you are required to consume your weight in pineapples while you’re there. In fact, when I was there I didn’t even like pineapple and didn’t eat even a piece and I survived. Of course, my tastes have changed a bit and I’m looking forward to scarfing down some fresh pineapples while we’re there.

England/Ireland/Scotland – I am perfectly happy to visit Birmingham, my love. You should know me well enough that I don’t care if it’s not a big tourist hot spot. In fact, that makes it even more appealing. Maybe we can squeeze in a Villa game while we’re there. In fact, I think we should plan our trip around the English Premiere League season (does is actually start and end or is it just 12 months a year?) so we can for sure go to a game. Of course, if we’re living there, hopefully we’d have lots of opportunities to go to a game. I’m “game”! (Again, totally lame joke…)

Canada – I do love Calgary. I’ve never been to Vancouver but it’s sounds great too. However, our trip to Canada will most likely be with my family so we’ll probably just stick to the Alberta Province. It’s beautiful, you’ll love it. I can’t wait to see 360 degrees of flat fields and giant grain elevators protruding here and there. Our northern neighbors sure have a great view of the stars!

Mayan Riviera – Yes, please write the book so we can go visit. It will be a research trip for the sequel…

France – I would definitely love to visit all those places in France and refuse to shower while I’m there, just to fit in so I don’t look so much like a tourist. :o))

Germany – I’ve never really “wanted” to go to Germany, but mostly because the language sounds so hokey and the Lederhosen look stupid. I’m sure it’s beautiful and we’ll probably drive through on our multi-month tour of Europe.

Washington D.C. – A must! And let’s add Philadelphia to that trip too. Seeing Independence Hall was a neat experience and I always wished you could have been with me.

T.L. Bear – I am glad to see that two things have not changed in our 10+ years of courtship and marriage. First, my math skills have remained on a consistent level ever since we first met (and if I’m being honest, ever since elementary school). Second, as always, I like to add the word “poop” to just about everything. I don’t think I have slipped it past you even once – I think you are 100% in catching and rolling your eyes at my poop references. Your thoughts, as always, are sublime, and thank you for agreeing to attend a Premiere League match with me (among all the fun other vacations, of course).

I am also glad to be the one who filled the giant void in your life, and that is very sweet of you to say. Thank you, and I hope you know I feel the same way. On that subject, as I look up from the keyboard at home I can count nine different items of Disney paraphernalia strung around one little corner of our house. That’s just on this desk.. Are you SURE that void in your life wasn’t filled by Disney?

It has been a few weeks since I last posted, although my Utah Jazz Manifesto was long enough to make up for it. I also appreciate and sympathize with anyone who read it. I wouldn’t say that I got in trouble, exactly, for my burst of prolificity, but The Wandering Moose expressed her displeasure with having to read something so lengthy. In the past version of this blog she would have simply ignored it and been happy, but she feels a bit more ownership now that her name is on the blog, and wants to make sure that the product is acceptable.

TWM also predicted that nobody would want to read something I wrote that was that long, which turned out to be true. This has caused me no end of concern, as I am currently writing a book that is already many times longer than the post in question, and I would like people to read that someday. To be fair, there is a clear difference in an actual book and a foolish, self-obsessed blog post – but that didn’t keep me from worrying about it for a few days.

I posted that poor decision the day before what would be the final Utah Jazz game of the season, which would then be followed by one of the strangest things that has ever happened to us. The evening went like this: we watched the game until late, due to an 8:30 PM starting time here in Salt Lake City. The Utah Jazz lost, ending their season, which was unfortunate. But, they didn’t play well enough to win, and there were too many “absent” players, and the officiating in the fourth quarter was rousing, to be kind about it. The fact that the Jazz couldn’t hit a shot through the entire game, and Odom, Gasol and Fisher looked like Hall-of-Famers instead of famous chokers didn’t help, and, and… well, nothing. I sense a rant coming on, which I thought I had all out of my system. I will end it here, so I don’t find myself on the wrong end of another “manifesto.” Better luck next year, Jazz.

Anyway, after the game we were feeling sad about things (well, I was feeling sad – TWM was doing okay) and we ate a very late dinner while watching a few TV shows recorded on our DVR. Neither of us had really noticed how late it had become, because we were enjoying each other’s company, and it was Friday night with no early responsibilities the next day. It was about 1:15 AM, and that was when the aforementioned “strangest thing” happened.

It started as a very long noise of squealing tires, followed by a tremendous, extended crashing sound. This was the general effect:

RRRRRrrrrRRRRRrrrrrRRRRRRRrrrrrrrRRRRRRRRT

Crashcrashcrashcrashcrashcrashcrashcrash

Most disquieting for us is that it seemed to be coming from just outside our door. I ran (well, jogged) to the window and TWM sprang to the door. We discovered that it actually was coming from right outside of our door – a white Ford Mustang surrounded by a cloud of dust was in the middle of our front yard. We saw it back up and go tearing out to the street, and then disappear around the nearest corner.

We spent the next hour calling the police (I made my first call to 911 – which was thrilling in its own way), consoling the driver’s hysterical girlfriend, theorizing with the neighbors, and assessing the damage. We also watched as the yard demolition specialist returned in his Mustang to see what he had done, followed by one of our neighbors chasing him down the street to get his license plate.

The good news was that nobody was hurt, and in fact, there was minimal damage considering what could have been. Our neighbor’s chain link fence was mangled, and there were some tire marks left in the grass, but nothing critical. We found out at the time that he had been drinking, had a shouting match with his girlfriend, leaped into his overpowered car, and sped off to show his displeasure. We guessed that he swerved to avoid a big truck parked on the corner of our street, overcorrected (to say the least) and blasted through the fence.

Once the adrenaline high was over and after a thorough flashlight inspection, we determined that just about everything was fine, and had a good chuckle about it. We ended up turning in at about 3:00 AM.

The police found the driver the next day, and soon discovered that he wasn’t carrying insurance (which didn’t really surprise us, considering) and that he had stopped paying for his car several months ago. This meant that he was basically driving a stolen car without insurance. It was also an interesting conclusion to a rather bizarre night.

I have a few more things to write about, but I will end this here so I don’t make the same mistake as last week. More to come soon.

***WARNING – DO NOT READ THIS***

Sorry, that came out wrong. What I meant was: Feel free to read this, but it is long for a blog post and probably not very entertaining unless you are a serious sports fan (and possibly not even then). Please be advised.

Game Five of the Utah Jazz vs. Los Angeles Lakers series took place yesterday (it was going to be “tomorrow” and then “today” but I didn’t get around to posting this until the afternoon following the game) and it was another road loss for the Jazz. The Lakers lead the series at 3-2, of course, with the home team winning all games. The Jazz will be eliminated if they don’t win both of the next two games, and they haven’t won in Los Angeles since Gerald Ford was President (or something like that – the national broadcasters mentioned it about 670 times last night, but I managed to ignore them every single time).

There is this much to say – whether or not I think they will make it past the Lakers (I don’t), it is very clear to me that the Utah Jazz are a legitimate, realistic title contender. For the next few years, presuming they keep all of the necessary pieces together and improve in a few positions, they stand a very realistic chance of competing for the title, if not outright winning it. Wouldn’t that be an interesting facet to the Williams-to-Boozer versus Stockton-to-Malone comparative arguments? Within 10 years of their last trip to the finals they are back to being one of the three or four best teams in the league, with an almost entirely different roster. That would be pretty impressive for any organization, not to mention the team in the smallest market in the NBA, and one of the few (if not only) major professional franchises that multiple players will openly and publicly refuse to sign with. The only constant in all of that success is the ownership and the most important parts of the coaching staff. Maybe there is something to Larry Miller’s insistence on backing his coach, even in tough times.

[Note: The league also needs to stop ignoring Jerry Sloan for his long, long overdue Coach of the Year award. The argument that it isn’t a “lifetime achievement award” is a cop-out, and ridiculous. If that was really the reason voters don’t think Sloan is a viable candidate, then why is he the only coach in the top 10 for career wins who hasn’t received one?]

There are four subjects I would like to briefly write about, and then I will move on to one other thing before the merciful end:

1. Officiating – I am writing this during a very zen-like calm moment, so I will be much, much more reasonable about the officiating than I am during the games. The Wandering Moose (who is a huge sports fan in general and Jazz fan in particular – please forward your declarations of jealousy to me) and I have expressed the opinion that we don’t know how players manage an entire basketball season without throwing a punch at the officials sometimes. There must be a level of understanding between the players and officials that I don’t see, because I can’t ever remember it happening, at any point in my years of watching basketball. Either that or the punishment for doing so must be overwhelming (lifetime ban?).

I think the best officiated game of the series so far has been game 3 in Utah. I know it is hardly a surprise that I liked a home game with a few preferential calls benefiting the Jazz, but I also think the officials were the closest to calling it fair on both sides. Right now, in this zen-calm, I know that officiating is a difficult job and I really don’t believe they go into a game intending to call it one way or another. But they do fall into the blunders of anticipating contact, correcting mistakes or complaints with make-up calls, giving preferential treatment to star players (and “star teams,” on occasion), and allowing biases/crowds to color their judgment. In other words, they are just like any other fan.

The problem is they should be better than the fans. They travel a lot and work hard at their jobs, but they aren’t being paid to watch basketball. It is their job, for which they are well-paid to be as invisible as possible. This is very difficult at times, because every single fan, no matter what team they follow, complains about the officials. They are often forced to make difficult calls that could change the outcome of a game, and every single player in the NBA, no matter what he says in post-game interviews, exaggerates to try and draw fouls.

So, I understand the difficulty of the position. It’s not easy – I get that. However, when Andrei Kirilenko plays great defense on Kobe Bryant, cuts him off from driving to the basket by moving his body (as he is supposed to do), and Kobe stiff-arms AK in the stomach while trying to make a move, that is a foul committed by Kobe. I don’t care if he is the MVP and I don’t care how badly his back hurts. Calling a blocking foul on AK is incorrect, and involves at least two of the blunders mentioned above. As my dear Moose said as we were watching the play: “That’s too bad that Andrei fouled Kobe’s hand with his stomach.” One or two calls like that over the course of a game are understandable. But call after call going against your favorite team turns a rational, zen-like fan into a blustering, hollering fool. My wife doesn’t like me at that point – heck, even I don’t like myself at that point. All I am asking for is fairness. A touch foul should go both ways. Three seconds in the key should be called on both ends. A driving foul is a driving foul, regardless of the uniform.

In a related point, I rarely notice such a high level of bad officiating when I watch games that do not involve the Utah Jazz. That means either the league only sends the worst officials to games involving the Jazz (possible), or I am letting my passion cloud my judgment. Perhaps it’s best if I don’t investigate that too much.

2. The Utah Jazz are a dirty team – I grow weary of hearing this argument from the national broadcasters and commentators. The way the Jazz play, which is a very physical game with a lot of picks and contact, is not inherently “dirty.” More to the point, they have played the game that way ever since Jerry Sloan took over coaching responsibilities, so I don’t understand why it has become one of the go-to stories of the playoffs. Actually, scratch that, I do understand why; it’s because very few of the national broadcasters have bothered to watch the Jazz during the year, so they have no idea what to make of this team. I don’t blame them – I can’t pretend to analyze any other team besides the Jazz, because I have no idea how they play or who their key players are. But the national guys need to say something, so they find one storyline, regardless of accuracy, and parrot that.

In fairness, I don’t think I have heard any of the national broadcasters actually use the term “dirty,” but they do say “physical” quite often, and that it’s a cheating tactic – using terminology like “the Jazz play more like a football team than a basketball team.” The commentators say it, the players mimic that in their post-game interviews, and suddenly the Jazz are thugs of the highest order.

I don’t see it. I mean, I see body contact and frequent bumping or the occasional shove. I see and have seen the screens and fouls, and Carlos Boozer’s two-hands-in-the-back trick during rebounds. These are part of the reason why more fouls are called on the Jazz than any other team in the league. What I don’t see is why this qualifies as “dirty” basketball. Truth be told, I see it on both sides. Physical contact is part of the game. But for some reason, that hard-nosed grittiness is admirable and acceptable when the San Antonio Spurs or the Detroit Pistons do it. Or the Rockets or Lakers, for that matter.

Coaches and players in both series have done their best to vilify the Jazz for their physical play. Tracy McGrady and Rick Adelman complained about how the Jazz were bumping McGrady when he got the ball on the perimeter, and how they would clog the lane with big bodies when he drove to the basket. Kobe Bryant and Phil Jackson have said very similar things. Does that mean the Jazz are supposed to let two very dangerous players shoot whenever they like, and drive to the basket unopposed? I know the respective coaches would like that, but it doesn’t make much basketball sense.

3. Arguments founded in ignorance – Message boards are an interesting way to communicate with other basketball fans around the country, and as one might imagine, they can become pretty heated. I rarely read the boards, though, because the attacks tend to become personal in nature (and often about Mormons, which is surprising for a sports message board until you think about it) when discussing the Utah Jazz. I do like spirited interplay between fans, though, and every once in a while a few well-written and thoughtful posters submit a series of comments that are very enjoyable to read.

I have come to find that there are intelligent, fair-minded fans of every team in the league (I know – I was surprised, too), and many of them are quick to praise the opposing side while still maintaining their credible arguments as fans. There are also plenty of socially handicapped dorks who only post messages to taunt other fans, but that’s all right. Sometimes these are funny, and earn a chuckle from me, even when aimed in the general direction of Salt Lake City. There is vitriol, too, but that goes mostly ignored by the free-thinking posters and only combated by the fellow insult slingers. Following a message board is always an exercise in selective reading.

[Note: I almost never post on well-known comment boards and message boards for two reasons. First, most of the arguments have either been debated to the final degree, or are hardly worth the time it takes to respond. For example, the following comment was posted last night after the L.A.win: “The Lakers would have swept the Jazz if the refs would just let them play.” How do I respond to that? How does one write the noise of me spitting soda all over my keyboard in shock? What is the proper spelling of a wide-mouthed-but-silent gasp? You see the problem. Second, I always feel awkward replying to some of the screen names. Instead of conversing with your average Bob or Sue, it’s: “You make a good point, roundrockmonster69…” or “I don’t agree with your opinion, KB24EVER…” Then again, I call myself “The Lumbering Bear” on this blog and don’t have any problems posting here, so maybe I should just stop writing about it.]

Anyway, there are always goofy, nonsensical arguments from the morons, but one point crops up quite often by otherwise bright posters, and I think it just makes them look dumb. If this was just a message board phenomenon, I don’t think I would even bother mentioning it. But I have heard the point asked as a question several times in post-game interviews during the Lakers series, coming from what must be properly-accredited media. People who should know better, in other words.

The point usually comes after the Utah Jazz win, and it has been made by fans from every team: “The Jazz played a perfect game tonight, and still only beat the (fill in the team) by 5. (Fill in the team again) shouldn’t be concerned – they are that much better than Utah.”

It’s often phrased in a different way, but it is always wrong. Just using the Lakers series as an example, the message boards were prickling with that argument after the Jazz won game three. Then, someone asked Phil Jackson whether the Lakers were nervous about game four, and led up to the question with something about how the Jazz had played a perfect game that night.

I was astounded to hear that question asked by someone who is paid to understand the NBA. If it’s coming from the fans, you can interpret it as: “I don’t think my team played very well, and I think yours did. So, because it was close, my team is going to destroy yours if they can get it together.” I understand that. People say and write a lot of foolish things after their team submits a disappointing loss (take this manifesto as exhibit A). But from an actual, living, breathing journalist? That tells me that he has either lost his ability to be objective, and should be fired, or doesn’t spend time following the league, and should be fired.

You know, if Deron Williams scores 25 points and has 10 assists (as he did last night), that is a good game, and a little above his average in scoring, but by no means is it “perfect.” Carlos Boozer has registered one good game in the Lakers series, and even though he doubled his average in rebounds in that effort, I would hardly call him “perfect” in that game. I know people don’t mean literally perfect, as in they didn’t miss a single shot and didn’t commit a single foul, but it is still an attempt at basketball elitism.

If the Utah Jazz played a “perfect” game, meaning Boozer and Williams both contributed to the very limit of their ability, Memo made a very high percentage of his shots and contributed some interior defense, Kirilenko was everywhere on the court (blocking shots, deflecting passes and getting inside on offense), the Jazz bench made a strong impact and brought energy to the floor, Brewer played tough defense without fouling, rebounds were very high, turnovers were very low, every basket was assisted… I mean, if we are really talking about a perfect game from a realistic standpoint, the Jazz would destroy the Lakers – or any other team in the league – on any floor.

The same is true of every team in the NBA. I have seen the Jazz play “perfect” games (there was a certain home win against the New Orleans Hornets this year that I would consider in that category, and I was even at the game), and I have seen perfect games played against the Jazz. It doesn’t happen often, because there are so many variables, but there isn’t much an opposing team can do about it. They just try to not get injured and take their beating well.

4. Why doesn’t Utah love Derek Fisher? – Can we ask all national broadcasters and commentators to retire the “I can’t believe Derek Fisher is being booed by the Utah crowd” shtick? I fully acknowledge, as a fan, that he made some memorable contributions to the 2006-2007 regular season, and had a very heartwarming entrance to a home game in the playoffs last year. I also confess I was sad to see him go. He left on good terms with the team, and I thought Larry Miller did a very decent thing to cancel his contract. There. Are you happy, Hubie Brown (and others)?

I would very much like to hear a logical argument why we, the fans of the Utah Jazz, should continue to cheer for him. For the record, I don’t think he leveraged his difficult family situation to get out of Utah, even though he actually moved 700 miles further away from his daughter’s doctor in New York. But apparently they have better hospitals in Los Angeles (sorry, Primary Children’s Hospital and Shriners Hospital for Children). Besides, he left several millions of dollars on the table when he broke his contract, and he was trying to make a good decision for his family. I can respect that. I still admire Derek Fisher as a man and a father.

However, he was on record just after his trade from Golden State that he did not want to come to Utah. He explained later that it was more from the shock of being traded, but it didn’t sit well with some fans, and now we are not certain that he wasn’t glad to leave. The situation here in Utah was not going to improve for Fisher. He certainly would have started as the shooting guard this year, but his minutes would be cut if the Jazz wanted to start bringing Ronnie Brewer into the mix. He may have picked up some extra minutes backing up Deron Williams, but the Jazz were not about to cut D-Will’s numbers to appease D-Fish.

But Fisher still had enough game left to be a starting presence on a good team. He is a key role player on the Lakers, after all. With the Jazz, he was about to be relegated to several years of decreasing minutes in supporting roles. I think he would have been a great bench player, maybe one of the best in the league, but it still would have been the bench. With that in mind, I don’t think it broke his heart to leave. He may have liked the community and the team, but it was a good decision for him.

So now he returns to face the Jazz and the Utah crowd, and he is playing for the Lakers, of all teams. Not only playing, but starting, and making contributions to what may be the best team in the NBA. Fisher is burying three pointers like he isn’t capable of missing, and playing obscenely intense defense against a fantastic guard (neither of which, by the way, do I remember from Fish while he was wearing Jazz colors). Are we, the Jazz fans, supposed to cheer for that? He leaves the team and comes back in enemy colors, and we are supposed to be happy for him? Why? The very idea is ridiculous.

All that really leaves is his daughter’s tragic illness, which has nothing (or very little, in this case) to do with basketball. Should we cheer for a now-opposing player because he struggles with difficult family challenges? I have no problem maintaining a soft spot in my heart for Fisher because of his decency and family values, but what does that have to do with the playoffs? There is more than one player in the NBA who faces similar challenges with his family – Carlos Boozer, for example. Should Cleveland fans cheer for Boozer when he plays against his former team? Because he left under very similar circumstances, with his minutes about to be cut and the coach letting him know that he was going to be a third-tier role player. Yes, there was a lot of sneakiness and underhandedness to that whole transaction (some of it on Cleveland’s part), but hey, he has a sick kid! Cheer for him!

No self-respecting Cavaliers fan (or Lakers fan, or Rockets fan, or any non-Utah fan) would be cheering for Boozer, no matter what his family problems may be. Nor would I expect them to. A one-time favorite player is now in enemy colors and fighting his hardest to keep my team from winning. For that, I say boo.

This final section is “The Lumbering Bear Awards – Utah Jazz Playoff Edition,” which I chose to do because it sounded like fun to write and I had a few ideas for it. If you are still reading (unlikely), I would love to hear your ideas.

First Round – Utah Jazz vs. Houston Rockets

Player from the Opposing Team I Would Most Like to See Play for The Utah Jazz: He was not very popular around my house a few weeks ago, but I have to go with Shane Battier. He’s a cerebral, hard-working swingman who doesn’t need to score in order to stay in the game. He plays tough defense on the other team’s best perimeter player, and when the Rockets needed a three-pointer, he always seemed to make it. I don’t like the fact that he is a Level 74 Flop Master, but everyone flops these days, so I would overlook it.

Player from the Opposing I Team Would Least Like to See Play for The Utah Jazz: Bobby Jackson. He used to run circles around John Stockton back when The Master was at his creakiest. He would probably be a valuable bench player in the vein of Derek Fisher, but I would have a hard time forgiving and forgetting.

Player I Suspect Irritates His Teammates by Trying to Show off His Basketball Knowledge and Always Telling Them What to Do: There may be more candidates for this than I realize, but I have to give it to Rafer Alston. He spent the entire first two games injured and pouring out basketball knowledge to Yao Ming, who was beside him on the bench (Yao’s response to everything: “Huh?”) He seems to really enjoy being the player who gets interviewed between quarters, so he can lay down some high-level jargon.

Player That Is the Most Fun to Imitate: There is no better choice in the entire league for this award than Dikembe Mutombo. I know it’s not very original, and the whole joke has been done to death, but every time he made a play or the announcers said his name, I said “cooookieeeee!” in my best Cookie Monster voice. In other years this award would go to Tracy McGrady, and the imitation would be accomplished by half-closing my eyes for the entire game.

Coach That I Found More Amusing When He Had the Adolf Hitler Mustache: This is obviously an award for Rick Adelman, but Phil Johnson could give him a run for his money if he decided to try something new.

Player That Looks the Most Like An Unattractive Woman: At first I considered Kyle Korver for this award, but then I saw his parents on television, and he happened to look quite a bit like his mom. Now, the odds of anyone in the Korver family reading this are astronomical, but I still didn’t want to imply that his mom was unattractive, as she was a lovely woman. So, instead, I will go with Luis Scola. He’s a better choice, anyway.

Player I Would Least Like To Sit Behind If I Splurged For Expensive Third Row Seats In The ES Arena: Yao Ming is a good choice because of his height, but I am actually going to go with Kyrylo Fesenko. Not only is he tall and broad, but one of the only other Ukranians I have ever met smelled like bad cabbage and garlic. I am not saying that Fes has that problem, but I would rather not find out.

Player with Whom I Would Most Like To Have a Dinner Conversation: There are a lot of very intelligent players on both teams, and I am such a fan of Deron Williams that I would have a hard time passing that up. But, I may have to give this one to Dikembe Mutombo again, just for humorous reasons.

Conference Semifinals – Utah Jazz vs. Los Angeles Lakers

Player from the Opposing Team I Would Most Like to See Play for The Utah Jazz: None. Well, that’s not exactly correct, because when they are not playing the Jazz I like Ronny Turiaf’s game. He’s another tough, high-energy player that doesn’t talk a lot but plays hard every possession. Ronnie Price’s forehead may disagree with my choice, though.

Player from the Opposing Team I Would Least Like to See Play for The Utah Jazz: With the entire roster to choose from, I have to go with the completely unused Chris Mihm. Nothing against the former Texas standout, but I would like to see the Jazz move further away from the “Big, Slow, Clumsy Center” era. They are going in the right direction, but they have to be careful about backtracking.

Player Who Terrifies Me the Most When the Ball Is in His Hands: Any of the Lakers big three of Kobe Bryant, Pau Gasol and Lamar Odom would be great for this. All three have spent much of the last five games dismantling whatever interior defense the Jazz may have had. But, I have to give this one to Carlos Boozer. I have hope that things will change down the road, though.

Player I Would Most Like To See Shot Out Of A Cannon And Not Worry Too Much About Whether The Net Is In Place To Catch Him: Sasha Vujacic. Plus, instead of one of those circus cannons that the Ringling Brothers use, I would prefer it be a heavy mounted cannon on a US Navy warship. Ironically, we named our dog Sasha several years ago, and now on occasion when she is being a “bumface” (our cutesy word for stubborn) I call her “Sasha Vujacic.” (Disclaimer: I really don’t wish him or anyone else physical harm – and I suppose this is a very, very backhanded compliment for how tenacious he is. By tenacious, of course, I mean obnoxious.)

Player Who Is Technically More Handsome than His Father, But That Isn’t Saying Much: Ron Brewer, former NBA player, is a reasonably handsome man. In a funny twist of fate, the elder Brewer played with Bill Walton, who is not handsome, reasonably or otherwise. Luke Walton is Bill’s son, and the runaway winner of this award.

Player That Has Never, Ever Committed a Foul: It’s really admirable that Pau Gasol can play so many years in the league and never do anything wrong. We should give him some sort of award or something. Besides this one, I mean.

Coach That Really Enjoys Talking Over the End of Reporters’ Questions: Jerry Sloan. I laugh every time he does it.

Player That Has the Most Unlikely Tattoo on His Shoulder: With the drastic increase in tattoos among NBA stars, this one is a little more difficult. Deron Williams, for example, has some sort of wild panther on his shoulder, with realistic red scratches at the ends of the claws. But the MVP of this category is Kobe Bryant. He has a tiara made out of butterflies on his shoulder (yes, you read that correctly – haven’t you noticed it?), that is even more amusing in High-Definition. I don’t even think I need to come up with a joke for that one.

Player That Has Been Arrogant For So Long That It Doesn’t Even Faze Us Anymore: It’s two in a row for Kobe Bryant, who has never met a condescending remark he didn’t like. I actually catch myself thinking he has grown up a bit, and it’s not as bad as I remember, but then I really listen to what he says and I realize I have just become accustomed to it.

Player That Looks the Most Like A Geico Caveman: Vladimir Radmanovic. He also looks like Peja Stojakovic (good call by T.W. Moose), so it would be interesting to see them do one of those split-face NBA Playoff commercials. So if the Lakers win the series there is at least one thing I can hope for.

So, that wraps up my ridiculous, humongous, Utah Jazz Manifesto. If you happen to have read the entire thing, my thanks to you, and my compliments on your supreme level of patience. I will update this with future posts if the Jazz should happen to progress to the next round, which is good news for anyone who reads Deep Forest Outpost, because such an outcome is unlikely at best.

I really, really wanted to title this post: “Welcome to the Jungle,” and even had it written that way a few times. There were plenty of good reasons for doing that, beginning with the obvious toughness and coolness factor that comes from associating something with Guns ‘n’ Roses, and then . . . well, I guess it was mostly just that, but it was enough.

However, that didn’t exactly fit with the whole Moose and Bear theme we are trying to establish, which is more of a northern hemisphere thing. Besides, this post is supposed to be introducing the new name and theme of this blog, which is Deep Forest Outpost (not Deep Jungle Outpost, in other words). Not that it really matters, one way or another. If not for the first two paragraphs, I suspect most people would have read past the title and not thought much about it. I guess if I’m being honest with myself, I only brought it up so this would sound more like an awesome rock song and less like a Winnie the Pooh story. Of course, as a devoted fan of The Walt Disney Company, I don’t really have a problem with The Pooh – he is a bear, after all.

Anyway, as the self-proclaimed editor of Deep Forest Outpost I have taken the initiative to dole out a few assignments to The Wandering Moose, just to get her blogging career started. She has responded to my instruction and leadership with what could best be described as indifference, although there are some very good reasons for that. For starters, you all know how busy we are between full-time and part-time jobs, volunteer church callings, and family activities (and I am comfortable writing “you all know…” because I can’t imagine someone reading this who doesn’t actually know us). Then, we have the standard cleaning/dishes/laundry stuff to catch up on. When there is a minute to spare, we both have personal projects that demand some time – like the book I am writing, which, at the current rate of progress should be hitting the shelves sometime around 2026. Finally, after all of that, we like to unwind with some leisure activities – most often reading or television watching.

[Note: That is the “official” order of priority, although our leisure activities sometimes move up a level or two. Feel free to roll your eyes and wag your fingers at us for that: we have earned your scorn.]

I am certainly not trying to complain about having full schedules, as I know we have it easy compared to some (meaning: we don’t have kids). Besides, we both like to keep busy doing something, and even on nights when we watch television together, we are both often buzzing away at a personal project at the same time. Because of this, I thought last week’s slate of television would present a perfect opportunity for Amy to write a few thoughts and introduce herself to the blog universe at the same time. So I made a few assignments and dictated them to her, which she took in good humor. This lead to exactly zero blog posts.

I gave her full marks for effort, anyway. She put a few things together and will complete them soon enough, and that’s good enough for me. I understand all too well how easy it is to move a goofy personal blog down in the priority list when you are so busy otherwise. Writing is practically part of my identity, and I didn’t write much last week, either. That doesn’t make her any less excited about the new blog (at least, I hope not), it just means she will get around to her opening post soon enough.

This week may also pose a similar problem, though, as all of the same television distractions from last week will be repeating. Four of Amy’s favorite shows are nearing the end of their seasonal run: Dancing with the Stars (which we call “DWTS” as a cool, insider shorthand name – which is funny because “dee-double-you-tee-ess” is actually six syllables long whereas “dancing-with-the-stars” is only five, so it’s technically an abbreviation but verbally an elongation), American Idol (which we call “AI” for the same reason – not to be confused with Allen Iverson), America’s Next Top Model (“ANTM,” of course, which Amy says quickly and I sometimes think she is saying “Auntie Em”) and Survivor (which we just call “Survivor,” because “S” could really stand for anything). For the record, I always watch AI with her, usually DWTS, sometimes Survivor, and almost never ANTM.

Each of these shows is a minimum of an hour long, and often more. Two of them – DWTS and AI – have hour-long “results” episodes the following day, where the viewing public is told which contestant has been eliminated from the competition. That adds up to a weekly minimum of six hours of television during this busy season. Add to that two playoff games for the Utah Jazz at three hours a pop, and suddenly we have 12 hours of television to watch this week.

[Another Note: this simply wouldn’t be possible without the technology magic of our digital video recorder, which allows us to skip nearly all of the commercials and unnecessary content, and conserve quite a bit of time. We end up actually watching about 40 minutes of DWTS, 45 minutes of AI, 50 minutes of ANTM, 50 minutes of Survivor, and 2 hours of each Utah Jazz game. That’s a total time saving of nearly three hours per week.]

I bring this all up because our new blog name and theme may indicate that we are very active, outdoorsy people. While this is true, to a point, it is also true that we like watching television together, which is a very interactive process for us (meaning we have running dialogue the entire time and laugh at everyone’s expense). But, with summer approaching, we are fortunate to have these time-stealing programs nearing the end of their run and will soon have more time in the evenings for our personal projects. This should hopefully lead to more traveling, sight-seeing, reading, writing, camping, fishing, hiking, and golf; and will certainly lead to more yard work and home maintenance. I suppose we could do without the latter two (although, again, we like keeping busy), but it is the price we pay for being able to do all of the former.

In conclusion, all of this was just a round-about way of explaining why our fun family adventure blog may have a lot of sedentary content like television commentary and movie reviews. Or why I write about sports and/or music quite often. But, if you know me, you may also know that I like meandering paths and scenic routes, so making something longer than it needs to be just goes with the territory. By the way, the meandering/scenic route thing is one of my quirks that Amy often finds annoying, so if you still happen to be reading this, and are finding it difficult to not be irritated, you are not alone. Please accept my apologies.

P.S. – Just two more quick things and then I promise to stop. First: we are going to be purchasing bicycles sometime this week that will hopefully add to our summer fun. I am already anticipating a series of injury reports. Second: I have taken the liberty of adding some biographical information about The Wandering Moose to the “about us” page. Some of it is even true!