Family Camp Recap Part 2: Celebrities/Apostles, Super-Athletes, and Scum

A couple posts ago I threw down the always-awesome “To Be Continued.”  (I guess it’s not awesome when dental surgery is involved, but generally it’s a good thing)  So, I give you part two of “Family Camp Recap” where I drop nuggets of interesting goodness on you about our adventures at Aspen Grove:

• On the first night when we walked into the Dining Hall I glanced around and quickly noticed a serious Mormon celebrity in the room.  Jeffrey R Holland (the Apostle) was with us the entire camp – which was really awesome, particularly his sweet fireside on Sunday night and passing him on the trail to the waterfall where he asked me, “is it much farther?”  Love that guy.
• As the kids were away doing whatever it was they were doing (again, I didn’t really care deeply) – the Mrs HTF and I played some big-time swimming pool basketball.  I eeked out some wins, but not without suffering claw marks and sharp elbows.  It was a battle-royal.
• While at the pool the life-guard, who I chatted with a few times that week, interrupted our game by asking me, “I’m sure everyone says this, but did you know you look like the guy from the Princess Bride?”  Traci and I pondered…  She said, “Wesley?”

  to which the lifeguard girl said, “no, the other guy.”  Which I quickly realized meant this guy:

  Ouch, I thought.  That one hurt a bit…

• We joined a softball game in progress and were greeted kindly by a large family of super-athletes.  Seriously, I’m quite sure any one of the women in that group could’ve thrown me up in the air and run a mile before I hit the ground.
• Each evening we got together with our adult friends and played SCUM and/or Trivial Pursuit.  We stayed up way later than we should’ve and I think that was just to pretend like we still can.  The way we stumbled around at breakfast in the morning though proved that wasn’t quite accurate.
• Our 11-year-old, Ethan was at the camp, we think.  We didn’t see him much, though they renamed the pool after him for some reason.
• Allison, (4 year old) deserted our family during the week and formally joined another family with a girl her age.  She quit eating with us and towards the end of camp I had to sign a form so the parents could include her as a dependent on their tax returns.

I could go on, but I’ll end it there.  Suffice it to say it was an AWESOME week.  One of the best ever.  Our kids have asked if we can move there.  And I’m pretty sure they’ll figure out how to make it so…

 

Huge Announcement – The 2nd Annual Something…

One of the highlights/lowlights of last year for some of you was the inaugural HTF Fantasy Football League.  We laughed, we cried, we made fun of each other’s kickers and I think it was a good time all around.  It even introduced several marvelous HTF readers to the wiles of Fantasy Football, which may explain why some may never do it again.  Still, back by popular demand I’m excited to announce the aptly-named:

2nd Annual HTF Fantasy Football League

So bring along your blog-reading friends OR those who read anything else, and drop me an e-mail.  It’s gonna be awesome!!

Family Camp Recap (Part 1: Ping-Pong, Panic Attacks, & Pottery)

We spent the last week at the Aspen Grove Family Camp in Provo Canyon, just above Sundance.  (it wasn’t really “above” Sundance, it was just up the road a few miles, but it would’ve been even cooler if it was literally “above” I suppose)  It was an awesome time filled with adventure, hilariousness, smallish animals, dancing, firearms, flying axes, singing, face painting, and, well, scum.  So here are a few things I learned or thought you needed to know:

• Climbing 70 feet in the air up a log/wall and THEN remembering my stupid fear of heights wasn’t my best decision ever.  I actually had a real-life panic attack while straddling a log on the aptly-named “HIGH Ropes Course.”  Oh, I finished the thing (mostly because I was being watched by a bunch of people I knew and because I had a rope around me so I didn’t die when I freaked out and let go of wall), but in a pretty humiliating fashion and gasping for air while having to immediately sit down.
• On the last night there we (like 400 of us) gathered for the final “show.”  The Mrs. HTF asked the announcer guy to announce that my son had lost his backpack, but that it has his name on it.  When the announcer asked if anyone had seen the missing item with Ethan’s name on it, my son, seated a few rows in front of us, quickly raised his hand, because he’d heard his name – to which the announcer smiled and told him to talk to the “lady in blue” (my wife).  The crowd cheered this development, but we just rolled our eyes.
• Kids singing/dancing on stage is always cute, until they turn like 11 or something, then they better actually know what they’re doing.
• The camp counselors, and there were lots of ‘em, took our kids for the vast majority of the day time.  They provided a detailed schedule of the activities they were doing so that the parents would be acutely aware.  I was surprised at how little I cared about those little schedules – except for the dropoff/pick-up times.
• One night we sent Allison (age 4) with our unsuspecting, too-kind friend to do Arts & Crafts.  She proceeded to convince our friend that she needed 5 different plaster figurines to paint (which cost $$).  The good news is that we came home with a colorful caterpillar, hat, shoe, unicorn and of course, a butterfly.
• Traci and I won the camp Mixed-Doubles Ping Pong Tournament.  But this was mostly because the semifinals were a forfeit and the finals ended up that way too because the guy tore his ACL the day before.  I like to say that everyone was too scared to play us.  Yep, Traci is that good.
• When we met the couple in our first round Ping Pong game I told the opposing wife that she looked really familiar to me, but I couldn’t place her.  I asked her name, maiden name, social security number and stuff that like.  She closed things down by saying that she probably just had “one of those faces.”  Well, several days later Traci ran into the lady at the BYU Bookstore and she told Traci that after the match she remembered that she’d gone on a date with me my freshman year.  I felt strangely vindicated and embarrassed at the same time…
• Pottery – WAY more fun than I expected.  Also, kinda cathartic, until the candy dish I was creating collapsed for the 4th time, then it wasn’t quite so calming.

As I was writing this I realized there’s way more to add, but this is already pretty long so….

To Be Continued…

There, wasn’t that awesomely dramatic?!

The Duke of Chutney Visits HTF

You have to admit that every once in a while you think about being royalty of some sort where everyone does exactly what you tell them to and you have to wear fake wigs and/or be deeply involved in scandalous scandals.  Well, I’m happy to report that a royal(ish) reader of the blog dropped a note in the old HTF mailbox recently that I’d like to share with the people:

Henry,

I am relieved to know you will continue blogging.  While I cannot regularly follow your blog, I do like to catch up on “missed episodes”.  Also, I have come to rely heavily on Facebook to let me know when there is a new post.

I do have two questions, both related to your still-recent-in-my-mind relocation to the Pacific Northwest.

1. Do Seahawks like the taste of frogs?

2. Is there any truth to the rumor that a rogue faction of your local cherry population [Bing Cherries] is preparing to sue Microsoft over the name of its new(est) search engine?  The word among the trees is that Sergey Brin and Larry Page are funding these litigious efforts, sort of like this guy and this guy fund these guys.

Regards,

Sir Reginald

Duke of Chutney

Well, your Dukeness, thanks for the questions.  I’d like to write for a while about how funny the word “Chutney” is, but I’ll restrain myself.  On question 1, it’s kinda complicated.  But using BING I did some high quality research and found this:

“Seahawk is but one of many nicknames for the awesome Osprey (Pandion haliaetus). This large, long-winged bird of prey cuts a striking figure, dark chocolate brown above and white below with a strong black line through its eye.”

So think about it – words like “large” or “awesome” or “striking figure” or “dark chocolate brown.”  Clearly I am a Seahawk, so NO I don’t like the flavor of frogs!  But I do enjoy a little air hockey game with them once in a while.

On your second great question I have to withhold most comments except to say that your analogy is a strong one.  Also, that I’m quite certain the Bing Cherries and the “New Search Engine” folks have agreed that name sharing isn’t gonna be a big problem since MOST people don’t try to eat Search Engines AND it’s hard to type on a cherry (or an Apple…  ).

Thanks for the questions your Worshipfulness, I look forward to hearing from you soon!

Enjoying the Journey, or better yet, sleeping through it

When I was growing up we’d drive from Kansas City to Utah pretty much every year to see our extended family and to be reminded that driving across Kansas takes roughly 6 years one-way.  This was an excellent time to engage in great conversations and bond as a family unit, so my approach, which my parents like to remind me of,

was to curl up in a ball like a hibernating grizzly bear and sleep (or pretend like I was asleep) for the duration of the trip or until we stopped for essential meals.

This seemed like a good strategy at the time.  But now kids can avoid all of that family bonding in a more creative, innovative way-

watching 47 consecutive DVDs WHILE eating junk food.

This of course isn’t so great on the digestive system, which explains the buckets that we travel with.  We luckily avoided any bucket usage this week as we drove from Seattle to Salt Lake, despite intense DVD watching in the backseat.  This kids did the usual “are we there yet” stuff.  This would be endearing if it didn’t make us want to toss them ever-so-gently through the window while driving slightly over the posted speed limit.  20 minutes after we left our house we filled up on gas, at which point my OLDEST asked if we were in Idaho yet.  We could pretty much still see our house…

Somewhere while cruising though the middle of Bleaktown, Idaho (not a real name, but it should be) I did respond to the, “are we there yet” question with a provocative, “Where do you think we are?”  At which point my daughter looked around thoughtfully, pondered and said,

“Daddy, . . . we’re nowhere.”

Well put.  Then she followed my well developed example and went to sleep.

I so wish this would happen at the Miss America Pageant

Today I found myself at a massive company meeting in Atlanta.  There were more than 12,000 people from all over the world in a huge arena – it was kinda like a World Cup match, except slightly more violent during the bathroom breaks (the toilet/urinal to uncomfortable-person ratio was awfully high…)  At the beginning they recognized people who won awesome awards for doing awesome things.  And it made more fun because it was a surprise to the people being called up from among a group of like 70 nominees on the stage.  The winners would smile gleefully and get hugged and/or chest-bumped by senior executives (this sounds awkward, but they played loud rock music, so that somehow made it feel right).  And then they’d be handed a ginormous trophy, which I don’t think they can carry on the plane. 

At one point a name was read and a happy dude sprung up and started getting his congratulations, but one of the presenters stopped the festivities, whispered something to him, and SENT THE GUY AWAY.  The name read had actually belonged to lady next to him, so she was called up and congratulated as the real doer of awesome things.  Somehow the guy had thought the name read out was his.  So he was left back in the group on that stage in a bright-red-funk (GNFARB), clapping listlessly for the actual winner.  It was probably the most embarrassing thing I’ve seen live.  All 12,000 of us and the ushers, totally saw what happened.  Poor dude.  We all (those of us with beating hearts at least) felt for the guy, but there was some snickering.  He should get some kind of award – perhaps he should be given a name tag with his name on it or perhaps a signed picture of the female winner.  But if I were in charge, I’d just give the guy a trophy out of pity.  It could be engraved with,

“That one guy who momentarily forgot his name” 

The mailbag has been pretty sparse for a while.  Remember to send in your questions/comments to henrythefrog@gmail.com.  I'll be happy to answer them, mostly like in a way that will leave you forgetting what the actual questions was.

Baseball and that girl who hit me with the ruler

I wish I was a baseball fan.  I really do.  There so much tradition, history, culture, and each MLB team plays like 6 games every day, each of which lasts no less than the length of one term in the US House of Representatives.  There was a time though when I was a loyal fan of America’s Pastime (no, not CONSUMER DEBT, I’m talking about baseball!)  When I was a 10 I used to rush out to the local paper and cut out the box scores and standings of my beloved Kansas City Royals.  Then I would tape the little cut out of letters and numbers in a notebook.  Underneath I would provide super-insightful commentary.  I’m sure it was profound stuff like:

“Homeruns are WAY better than getting hit by the pitch” or “Steve Balboni (real guy) is hitting good” or “The infield fly rule is more mysterious than Area 51” or “The girl who sits in from of me at school smells good, but doesn’t know I exist, so I will keep sniffing sometimes and maybe we’ll be partners for science sometime cuz I always get paired up with that girl who hits me with her ruler and calls me shrimp.”

You know, stuff like that.  Tonight I got to catch a game at the famous Turner Field in Atlanta.  I went with some great guys from work and it was an awesome night.  However, one large problem was that after living in Seattle for a couple years, being it Atlanta in July is pretty much like being on the hot part of the surface of the sun, except with a lot more humidity.  But this was made much more bearable by squeezing into small plastic seats and sitting so close to the people next to me that I’m pretty sure I have to attend their family reunions next year.  Still, the game was super exciting, and I remember that I actually do like watching, but only live.  Baseball on TV is slightly less interesting than watching CSPAN on a day when only one Congressman shows up for work and he decides to take a nap. 

I found myself thoroughly rooting for the home team and also hoping for more moments of extreme awkwardness via the Kiss Cam.  In the final inning they trotted out the Closer (whose name I already forgot), but it was a sight to behold.  They blasted Metallica and showed the guy’s name written in fire on all of the many, many screens in the stadium.  The crowd went wild.  We should all have our own entrance music OR at least a guy/gal that shows up at the very end of the day just to put the kids to bed.  He didn’t disappoint and we left with the euphoric feeling of a sweaty 4-1 victory.

Tonight was great – got to hang out with guys, eat junk food, make fun of the millionaires on the field, AND form covalent bonds with my clothing due to heat.  But on top of all that, I did honestly enjoy the game.  Maybe I’ll have to cut out the box score tomorrow…

Or I could just do this:

Get the camera away from that dude!

Recent events reminded me of when the Mrs. HTF and I got our first video camera.  It was just a few weeks before we were married, which is a pretty odd time to record for posterity – however, this didn’t stop me from taking hours of video… 

Last week we took our old tapes into the Costco to have them turned into DVDs since our old camera died back when George Bush had approval ratings in the high 70s.  Yesterday we got these priceless DVDs and sat down to intently watch our past life.  Somehow while watching we found ourselves simultaneously horrified, troubled, and bored.  We clearly didn’t understand which parts of our lives posterity was gonna wanna see and for how long they would want to actually watch.  Let’s just say the OFF button should’ve been used way more frequently.  The video opens with a small crew in my apartment stuffing our wedding invitations into envelopes while I offer horrible commentary and occasionally pan over to the TV to video tape parts of an NBA game – and that’s pretty much the highlight of the next several hours of video.  My first words are, “Wow, I can zoom in pretty good with this thing…ok, now we’re zoomed out.”  Those are my personal highlights.  Yeah, there’s some quality stuff from the reception, walking out of the temple, and even a couple minutes of memorable honeymoon stuff.  But in the mean time we just recorded and recorded anything that moved or would perhaps move someday.  My commentary, while trying to be funny, comes off like an awkward walrus trying to perform spinal surgery – painful to experience and hard to watch.  I recorded entire shows from Sea World (honeymoon) and surely violated some copyright law in the process.  This was basically the only part my kids seemed to like watching though – mostly because of the seals with balls on their noses. 

The entire second tape is video of my first trip to Alaska – over Christmas.  In this video we attempt to, well,

narrate snow.

This is way harder than it sounds – there’s only so much you can say about snow, but not to worry, I said even more than that.  There’s also like 10 minutes of a moose in the driveway one night eating leaves off the tree.  This is cool for a minute, but then it’s just, pretty much like staring at your TV while it’s off.  One thing we did notice that gave us pause was how nicely and flirtatiously (meaning “with flirtation and/or cheese”) we used to talk to each other.  I blame that change on the 4 kids fighting upstairs about who ate the dart from the Nerf Gun.  Happily, as the years have passed we’ve taken less and less video and have tons of photos – this is safer if for no other reason than you can’t hear my voice on photos.

So if you ever do see me with a video camera – do us all a favor and take it away from me by force if necessary.

PS – we have like 15 more tapes to move to DVD, hopefully we got a little better once the kids came… but I kinda doubt it.

Semi-Important Blog Update – and a mention of glowing zebras

A few of you have been reading along with HTF for quite a while – and while I don’t really understand why you do that, I sincerely appreciate it.  (I suspect it’s similar to the reasons that I walk by the TV while my kids are watching super-confusing shows on the cartoon network about imaginary creatures going to school in outer-space and having zany adventures involving fish and/or glowing zebras – and I struggle to pull my eyes away.)  Lately, due to my lack of, you know, writing, AND my lack of writing things worth reading – the readership has dropped off quite a bit.  So I’m kinda at a tipping point where I’m deciding whether to hang it up or not.  I’m not sure blogs are as popular as they once were.  We spend WAY more time on the Facebook reading 12 word updates about what people are eating and the fascinating weather events in their cities.  I think our attention span has shortened – I proved this scientifically the other day by noticing that I’d just scrolled through status updates and ONLY read the ones that were 2 lines or less.  If it was over 2 lines I clearly didn’t have the time. 

Anyway, here’s what I’ve decided to do – I’m gonna try to get the blog going again.  To do this I’m going to impose a bit of schedule on myself – which you should know is physically painful to me.  But I will suffer for the readers because I can pander with the best of them – particularly since each of you is so fabulous looking and insanely intelligent. 

• I will post blogs each Monday morning (might be Sunday night depending on your time zone) and Thursday morning.
• I’ll try to get more action in the old HTF mailbag – as source of many, um, words in the past.
• If events dictate – Like when the Blagovitch hair thing happened – I’ll be drop in a bonus post now and then.
• I’ll do way more linking and ask other people to be guest posters – I’m hoping this will, you know, increase the level of goodness on the blog

As a pseudo-gift I just posted the long-awaited (ok, that’s a huge overstatement) New HTF Playlist on the right side there.  Hope you dig it. 

Much luv.

You Be Illin’… but don’t worry, we’ll fix that with a Q-tip

You know that feeling where you know you’re getting sick, but you just haven’t penciled in time on the calendar for it?  I had that one last week.  And it kept dragging on.  On Tues the sore throat and subsequent fever drove me to come home from work and pitch a tent of sorts on the couch.  My kids are always extremely helpful in this situation.  At one point my forehead (which is roughly the size of Mongolia) was being gently dabbed by my 4 year old with wet, balled-up toilet paper.  Yep, that’s sure to do the trick.  Strangely, this and 397 Ibuprophen tablets didn’t quite kill the fever.  The whole night I was sick.  I called the “nurseline” and described my condition in my the same way you describe tech support problems to the dude on the phone.  The “nurseline” told me to just keep drinking “fluids.”  I hate when they say fluids.  I wish they’d just say water and stuff.  Now there’s a pretty predictable thing that happens when you drink lots of fluids AND you have a high fever – You’re pretty much hitting the bathroom with roughly the same frequency as you are taking breaths.  This, among other things, makes sleep hard.  Here I feel the need to make a point:

Being sick was WAY better when I was a kid.

Not entirely sure why, but I actually have fond memories of it then…  Anyway, I endured the night by watching almost two full seasons of The Big Bang Theory and by intermittently moaning to nobody in particular.  I was a little better the next day, but pretty much felt terrible the rest of the week.  However, there was too much to do and we had awesome visitors, so I just faked like I felt fine.  I don’t really recommend this.  Finally on Saturday I went to a doctor and they shoved two elongated q-tips into my throat and seemingly scraped off the first several layers of tissue.  (while looking for pictures of Q-tips I found out there’s a hip hop star with that name – really?!  That’s the best you can do?  Why not go with “Cotton Swab” or something.)  And with this test they decided I had strep, which is short for “Strepthisstupidthroathurts-A-Lot".  Anyway, I’m good now, but who know what kind of death bed I’d be on if it wasn’t for those dripping wet toilet paper balls?