Kids Say The Darndest Things

  If any of you have spent more than 5 minutes with a child, you quickly realize kids have a very ingenious perspective of the world. While the adult world is overridden with nuances, complications, details, subtleties, and obligations, kids take things as they see it- maybe a bit too literally at times.
Now, one of my brothers, Chris, is never afraid to comment or ask questions, and some of his musings have been so priceless, I had to share them.

1. My mother shares the thought that she would like to take up fly fishing. My brother, alarmed, immediately counters: "Isn't that dangerous??".
Mother: "Not particularly, why?"
Brother: "You're so high up!!"

Chris thought fly fishing was performed from a plane.

2. We are at sushi, but Chris, not a big fish fan, orders Teriyaki Chicken. After all but devouring his food, an intense look crosses his face, and he turns to our table and asks: "What kind of chicken is a Teriyaki chicken?"

The next day my sister entered the kitchen in the morning pretending to be an Asian chicken.

3. My mother and I are driving to a girls lunch, but we have to drop Chris off at home first. On our way there, I am complaining about how horrendous my hair has been lately. After my angst filled rant, a voice piped up from the backseat of the car. Chris declares: "So? My hair is awesome." He then performed a Justin Beiber worthy hair flip. I was out-styled by a 9 year old.

Kids say the darndest things. When they do, I recommend you Paint It Blue and Staple It: write it down so you don't forget. It'll be worth it.

My Family is More Embarassing Than Yours

My family is embarrassing.

One day, my father picked up my younger brother from lacrosse practice in full lederhosen.

For those of you unclear on what lederhosen are

My youngest brother once managed to get a shower head stuck in his mouth. My mother referred to my friends and I as her "little piggies". My sister is a ginger.

 They might be embarrassing, but it also turns out, they're pretty damn lovable. When I'm at college, I certainly enjoy my freedom (sometimes a little too much), but when the days slow down a little, I realize I miss them a lot. Sometimes, when I say I want to take full advantage of what life has to offer, that means sitting on the deck, eating family dinner.


This entry is short, but that's just because the thought behind it is too. Paint it Blue and Staple It. Go spend a little time with the family. It's worth it.

Why Hopping Into A Stranger's Van May Lead to Good Things

You know how when you're a child, you are told "Never get in a van with strangers"? Well I clearly didn't listen.

This weekend, I hopped in a van with complete strangers. My very athletic friend *Tracy had been running, and was stopped by a soccer mom in a minivan. She rolled down her window, and in one of the most audacious race invites ever given, asked: "So you look like your fit. How would you feel about a 200 mile relay?"

  It turns out, that soccer mom was referring to the Ragnar, a very famous (and very fun) 200 mile relay race that involves a team of 12 people and 2 vans. Soccer mom needed two runners to replace injured team mates. One phone call later, Tracy and I are hopping into a white unmarked van with complete strangers because we agreed to run 200 miles with them over a period of 36 hours.

Sometimes I question my decision making process...but then again bad decisions make better stories.

The race turned out to be a fantastic story. We ran from Utah State University in Logan to Park City. Let me tell you, if you really want to meet some crazy people, run Ragnar. Every team has a name, and the opportunity to deck out their vans. Some teams dress up. Some dress down. Some cross dress. Just a few of my favorite team names....

"We thought this was a 5k...."
"5 Chicks & 1 Dick"
"Run, Forrest, Run!"

You don't sleep. You eat whatever is in the car. You are stuck in a van for 24+ hours with stinky, sweaty runners. You have one of the best race experiences of your life. Paint It Blue and Staple It. Run Ragnar

What Happens When You Get Into a Van With Strangers

In case you're feeling adventurous:

http://www.ragnarrelay.com/

Why I Love Art, and Then Some Bricks

I have never considered myself a particularly artsy person. In fact, my greatest artistic accomplishment has probably been finger painting, or those awful recorders elementary schools shove in the hands of fumbling children (me included).

 However, I have come to the conclusion that my lack of artistic skill inclines me to appreciate those with talent even more. I imagine a canvas is to an artist as an empty page is to me: a way to broadcast your perspective of the world. So, in honor of those who can draw more than a stick figure, and in honor of
paint it blue and staple it , I went to the Salt Lake City Arts Festival.

There were a lot of a pieces that I found fascinating; photographers who were able to take photographs so surreal at first glance you mistook them for a painting. Craftsmen who carved astounding wood pieces, and graffiti artists who could do things with spray paint that I couldn't do with a camera.

 But then there is this sort of nonsense:

This, my dear friends, is a piece of modern art work that has been featured at the Tate Gallery (which, if you were unaware, is a very prestigious art museum). While also called "The Bricks", its original title is "Equivalent VIII." I appreciate alternative art, but when I see a pile of bricks on display I just want to pull the snooty intellectual aside  who made this executive decision and slap them. Dude. You bought the project in my backyard my dad never got around to finishing.

I appreciate modern art, I really do. There is Banksy, there is 3D chalk art, there are sculptures from old car parts... which can be spontaneous, creative, crass, unique, imaginative, and outside the realm of the traditional art world. Sometimes though, I draw the line. Don't try to tell me that this pile of bricks conveys a sense of "stepping from water of one depth to water of another depth" (as quoted by the artist, Carl Andre). 

By the way, the bricks aren't even cemented together.