Lucky

Today I heard this song ("The Luckiest" by Ben Folds).  It made me really miss the Mrs. HTF, who I'll get to see in a few days!  I've added it to my little playlist.  So in lieu of the usual cheeky satire, which will return soon, I give you the lyrics:

I don't get many things right the first time
In fact, I am told that a lot
Now I know all the wrong turns, the stumbles and falls
Brought me here

And where was I before the day
That I first saw your lovely face?
Now I see it everyday
And I know

That I am
I am, I am
The luckiest

What if I'd been born fifty years before you
In a house on the street where you live?
Maybe I'd be outside as you passed on your bike
Would I know?

And in a wide sea of eyes
I see one pair that I recognize
And I know

That I am
I am, I am
The luckiest

I love you more than I have ever found a way to say to you
Next door there's an old man who lived to his nineties
And one day passed away in his sleep
His wife, she stayed for a couple of days
And passed away

I'm sorry, I know that's a
strange way to tell you that I know
we belong
That I know
That I am
I am, I am
The luckiest

A Guest (or rather a meddling wife) Posting For A Guest

My husband got this really nice email from a friend and I know he probably won't post it himself, so I'll do it for him. Let's see how long it takes before he notices that it's here. I'll let you know (that is, if he doesn't change his username or password.)

Scottie,

I know this goes against the HTF standards, but if thats Ok with you, Id like you to include this not as a comment, but as an entry into the Blog:

About this Blogger
Before anyone gets confused, this is not Henry The Frog writing today. My name is Gonzalo Peña, and I just asked HTF to include this entry in the blog. I just wanted to pay a little hommage to him, to whom a consider a friend and a brother, and to whom I will refer in this entry as "the blogger". I met the blogger in 1994 in (my native country) Venezuela, while serving as full-time missionaries for our Church . Back then both of us were new to the missionary experience, and needless to say, we felt quite self-concious and insecure, but with great desires to do good to those around us. Life as a missionary, contrary to the romantic vision some might hold, brings many hardships along with the undescribable joy that one might experience. I was only twelve hours away from home and yet I felt I had walked into a totally different world, I cant even imagine how the blogger might have felt. Despite all this, I was not only able to perceive the bloggers great heart and willingness to do good just by listening to the broken Spanish he spoke when he arrived to my country, but I was able to see firsthand his greatness and character when becoming his full-time missionary companion for several months. By the way, he became fluent in Spanish in a really short time (and he still is).

Later on I had the blessing of coming to USA to obtain an education, and for those of you who dont know, Caracas, Venezuela, does not resemble very much to Provo, Utah, in fact, Provo, Utah does not seem to match many places on the globe. Now it was my turn to REALLY feel like a fish out of water. That first year in the United States was not easy at all, and hardships made me go back home for a while before returning to finish my degree. But without going to details, The blogger and his beautiful wife were there for me when I needed it the most. I was able to feel their sincere love and ability to share whatever they had to accomodate a good friend. Their example that helped me keep going when I felt alone in a new country.

The blogger taught me that at the time of the importance of be valiant when defending the people one loves, and to be a good listener, to be faithful to your friends, to serve with a heart. This is the type of individual Henry The Frog is. I am grateful and joyful to be considered his friend.

Sincerely,

--
Gonzalo A. Peña
nicedeed.blogspot.com

A Stunning Admission Involving Sequins and White Pants

I like to think that we all have our little secrets that we'd rather the whole world not know. I have one too, and I'm about to tell it to you. Warning - there may be cringing and most certainly there will be calls for me to turn in my man-card. So here it is...
Several years ago the Mrs. HTF roped me into watching some bizarre show where semi-celebrities did ballroom dancing with real-life professional dancers, competing for a big glass ball. By now you know the show - yes, I am a part-time fan of Dancing with the Stars. I try to justify it by rooting for manly athlete types like Emmett Smith and Jason Taylor. There have been multiple Mormons on there, so I reconcile that it's just me supporting my "people." But I must now admit - those are just examples of my playing with my own mind. I'm a fan.
So there it is - perhaps not the darkest secret you've ever heard, but nonetheless, I'm feeling a little liberated, and quite embarrassed. I haven't watched this season, but I'm home now visiting the family, so hopefully my dear wife will get me up to speed. Of course I will feign disinterest . . . until the music starts.
In honor of my admission and tipping my fedora to my frequent political blogs, I leave you with this (sent to me by my good friend William . . . if only it were so):

Utensils and Best-Selling Novels

Books are great. I've even been known to read one or two over the years. Even a few without pictures that required the use of an actual bookmark. I don't really keep track of what books are popular aside from I guess Harry Potter and the 976 versions of the Bible that seem to always be for sale at the Sam's Club. It is however, tough to escape the popularity of the "Twilight" series by J.K. Rowling or Stephanie Meyer, . . . it's one of those two. Not that long ago I got my first introduction to the series which is INCREDIBLY popular among women of all ages.

I literally thought my wife was playing an amazingly creative joke on me. She described a tale about a 17-year-old-girl named Bella who moves to Forks, (yes, I said forks) Washington and falls for a boy named Eddie or something who just happens to be a . . . (wait for it) . . .CANADIAN . . .!! Actually he and his family are real-life, fictional, VAMPIRES. But not to worry because, as wikipedia points out, this is not that big of a deal because his family has shunned drinking human blood and sticks with meals of animal blood instead.

So my wife, along with 86.7% of other litterate females, is suddenly a HUGE fans of vampire books. There are four of them (the books, not the females), but you can ask the lady of your choice for the rest of the plot. And there's another one called The Host that's about aliens possesing people's bodies and taking over the world. (I'm not making that up) Suddenly my wife is into vampires and sci-fi novels?!!!

All that I know is that once the Mrs. HTF picks up one of these books she ceases to, you know, exist in this world. She tunes the rest of us out completely. Here's proof. Also, unless you're living under a rock and/or you're a guy, you'll know that there's also some movies based on the books coming out that will be like an estrogen convention I'm guessing. (not that there's anything wrong with that)

I was recently given an even better reason to be a Stephanie Meyer fan - two females, (my wife and alert-blog-reader, JJ) pointed out - at the end of Mrs. Meyer's last best-selling novel, the Mormon, BYU grad pointed out that she was inspired in her writing by my brother's rock band, Spoon. (if you're paying attention, that's the second utensil reference in this post, and I wasn't even trying!) So maybe, just maybe, I should put down my books about politics, current events, or business management and join the ladies in reading about blood-sucking, alien, body-snatchers who woo teenage girls in logging country.

Or maybe I'll just wait for the movie.

Today's Photo Quiz . . .

One of these is the pretty girl I was lucky enough to marry . . . Can you point her out?

Tropical Storm Traci and My Wrinked-Up Toes

I've blogged repeatedly about the athletic prowess of the Mrs. HTF. Well she had her latest jaw-dropping performance over the weekend. On Saturday morning Traci competed in her very first triathlon, well, . . . sorta. Let me explain. Like many of you we've been building arks here in KC for the last few days. The rain just seems to keep coming. On Saturday morning we ventured out to the park where the event was to take place hoping that the rain would hold off. Well, as far as a dry morning, . . . not so much. Traci arrived at like 5 AM for the 7:45 AM start. I followed closely behind after dropping off the troops at our saintly friend's home and arrived at 7:10. Thank goodness there was a red umbrella in the minivan because it poured the entire time we were there, unless you count the 30 seconds before we got in the car to go home later that morning.

To our chagrin (a word I need to use more often) the bicycle portion of the triathlon was canceled due to the rain. I suggested they bring in stationary bikes, but I guess that was too much effort. So we were left with a swim and a run. The whole scene was pretty funny, unless you were, you know, in it. Husbands, boyfriends, parents, and supportive toddlers were huddled under overwhelmed umbrellas pretending they were glad to be there cheering-on their ladies. When in fact we all wished that the triathlon, turned biathlon (without the guns), would become a NO-athlon. But those are some tough ladies. By tough, I mean that half of them could've tossed me 30 feet into the lake and the other half would've had no trouble beating my Honda in a 3 mile race. As the race went on I made very communicative eye contact with some other supportive husbands. Some of the messages sent with raised eye-brows and headnods were:

- Can you believe we're standing here in the pouring rain in 6 inches of mud watching people swim in a lake, on purpose, when we could be home watching College Game Day on ESPN?!

or

- I'm wetter than my wife, and she's swimming in a lake!

But we all made it. Traci was amazing, no shocker at all. Leading up to it I was not allowed to tell people that she was "training for a triathlon." So instead I pointed out that she was swimming, biking, and running multiple times a week on the odd chance that she'd need to do these three things back to back to back at some point in the future. She's strong at downplaying expectations. After the race she made us hang around waiting for the results to be posted. She also got in line to get a massage. This left me to stoically hold my red umbrella and pretend I was happy to not be on my couch, dry. It was at this point that I experienced a quite lonely moment - as a muscle guy with long flowing hair gave the Mrs. HTF a thorough massage and I wasn't about to make small talk with any of the other folks in the area, 104% of which were women being watched closely by husbands/boyfriends, who like me, were unsure of how to function normally surrounded by that much estrogen. By my count the massage lasted just under two weeks and they finally had the awards ceremony. Traci took FIFTH PLACE in her age bracket (out of 42 women) and EIGHTEENTH overall (out of 253 women). So I continue to be in awe of this mother of four. I just hope next time I get to root her on in a tropical storm I get to watch from the comfort of my dry ark.

My 3-Week Vacation

Well my little blog hiatus is coming up on 3 weeks in a couple days. No real reason for the absence, just found other things to do. And for the first time in a really long time I'm sitting here with no idea at all about what to blog about. So here are just a few quick hits from stuff that's happened since I last blogged:

- We had our 10th Wedding Anniversary - This is an impressive feat of endurance on Traci's part. I'm awfully glad she's hung in there. I'm like her eternal service project. Someday she'll get me just the way she wants. This event also helped make it clear to me that I'm getting older way faster than I'd like. 10 years ago doesn't even seem like that long ago. But it was pre-kids, so that makes it feel like it was in the 1800s.
- As a way to celebrate the aforementioned anniversary we seriously splurged and bought 6th row tickets to Wicked on eBay. It was better than I'd even imagined. Go see it if you haven't already, and invite me to go with you. I promise not to sing along too much.
- Braeden has started baseball games. This provides hours of non-baseball-related entertainment as we watch little boys pretend they know what they're doing, or even care that much. They're far more interested in doing creative things with, well, dirt. More to come on this topic . . .
- I'm playing the piano in primary. Need I really say more. (snicker, snicker)
- Work is really busy. With the recent layoffs my job effectively doubled in scope a few weeks ago. Ah, the joys of working at a struggling company. For now I'm calling it an opportunity.
- Lost (the TV show) just had the first hour of its 3 hour season finale. I LOVE the show, so don't get me wrong. But do we really need a 3 hour finale spread out over 3 weeks?! Why don't we call it a 16-hour finale and have it start in January and wrap up in May?! Sheesh.

I could go on, but if I do it might be 3 more weeks until I blog. To the few of you who have urged me on to get writing again, thanks, . . . I think. Traci just kinda ridiculed me into it. (she does that to get me to do other things too).

Life is grand.

How I got my own "band"

Sunday there were some fun changes for Traci and I. In our church we have “callings” which are kinda like volunteer jobs since the local church is entirely run by a lay ministry (no one gets paid to do anything). The local leaders of each unit, the bishopric, decide, with prayer and discussion, who will serve in which calling. Then the members can decide whether to accept or not. We’ll for the last 2.5 years I’ve been in the bishopric of our congregation. It’s been fun, but it’s lots of hours, and a bit of stress. Nothing compared to what the bishop has to handle. Anyway, this weekend I was “released” from that calling and called to be . . . wait for it . . . the piano player in the primary (the children’s organization). BEAUTIFUL!! I was all-smiles on Sunday. Traci was called to be the president of the Young Women group (girls ages 12-18). So she’s the busy one now. It’s one of my favorite things about our church – that we all just help each other out and no one is more important or valuable than anyone else. It’s not easy, cuz we all have real jobs and families and all – but it’s part of what we do. So now all three of the Pope boys (Rob, Ryan & me) are “professional” musicians. People have asked me for years why I didn’t do that music thing like my brothers. In addition to the fact that I don’t have musical talent like them, I have several clever answers. Well now, I’m a piano player for a “group.” (ages 3-11) How about that?!

The girl I married . . . I think . . .

The 25th of April is our 10th wedding anniversary. I remember before we were married how well I thought I knew the future Mrs. HTF. I was sure that our 16 months or so of dating/engagement made me the definitive expert on Traci. Now a decade later I'm realizing more and more that I have a lot to learn and I continue to be surprised, almost exclusively in a great way. The girl I married thought that music stopped being created in 1979 (and should be played at a low volume) and that getting dressed up meant wearing your nicest flannel shirt and hiking shoes. (yes, she's quite Alaskan) I was good with all that - didn't matter much to me. I was lovin' her for other reasons. But last week I sat next to her at a rock concert as she rhythmically bobbed her head and belted out a few songs. She would occasionally smile at me with that grin that says, "surprise, I'll bet you didn't know I was secretly this cool." And her clothes were stylin'. (not that I'm any sort of expert on clothing style . . . as any of you know who me would attest) The girl I married also knew so little about current events that she couldn't tell me which two countries fought in the Iran/Iraq War. Now she zings me often with the "breaking news" of the day gleamed from significant reading of the big news web sites.

So I haven't been cool in many, many years (actually never), but I'm realizing that in addition to all the amazing things my wife is, that she's, . . . well . . . way cooler than me.

And I'm good with that.

Over the past six months or so especially, I've had to stop and stare as she downloaded amazing alt rock songs from iTunes or told me what was what in the presidential election. The way her coolness is increasing and mine is declining below zero . . . I'm just left to wonder . . . what'll this girl be like by the time we move into the nursing home?!

La Locura de Marzo

It's been hard to keep myself from blogging about March Madness. In my last little podcast thing I mentioned it. But I'll restate again, this is the BEST time of the year. Because of other fun things going on I haven't been able to catch as many games as I would've liked. But I'm really happy with how things have played out, with KU especially of course. Each year I get together with 40+ of my friends/family to fill out our brackets to see who the most educated basketball fan is. However, it inevitably ends up that basketball education has little or nothing to do with picking the brackets. That part makes it all the more fun. The Mrs HTF has now beaten me 10 out of the past 11 years. And I don't think she's watched an entire hoops game during that decade plus stretch. Humiliating? yeah, it is. You should read her recent post about the whole thing where she gives her take on it along with some history. She also makes fun of me for using yellow highlighters. I'm in 22nd place and Traci is one freakin' point ahead of me. Incidentally, Ethan (our 8 year old) is in 5th place. I guess we all know who he takes after. Anyway, I hope you all are enjoying the madness. GO JAYHAWKS!!

The Race That Was a Little Too Long

So I've actually been procrastinating blogging about yesterday's race - my first-ever-5K. Once you read about what happened you will understand why. I'll save the juicy story for the end of the post. Read Traci's post here. Based on feedback from many of you, here are few things I've found I need to clarify for my friends out there:

- 5K means 5 kilometers, which is like 3.1 miles. It does not mean 5 miles, and it's certainly not a marathon (26+ miles)
- I'm not in horrific shape or anything. I can play basketball for a three hours at a time and I can keep up with my kids running around outside if I tie their feet together.
- Traci, the Mrs. HTF, is NOT the greatest female athlete ever, but she's in the top 25
- I ran track a little growing up, but only distances 200 meters or less (sprints), mostly because my legs are about the length of your arms, and I figured anything farther than that and I'd get lost or something

I was blown away by all the well-wishes I received from you all and others on Friday. Thanks for that. I'm not convinced you didn't walk away snickering, but I'll take what I can get. On Thursday, Traci and I ran the whole course together. Towards the end I felt like I "had a little left in the tank" so I "sprinted" the last couple blocks leaving her in the dust (rolling her eyes). This part of my story becomes important later.

On the morning of the race I got up, ate a cereal bar or something and we jumped in the Honda. Traci had been up for a while already - she was actually anxious/nervous. (I chuckle) It was warm in our car, but not so much when we got out. I was laughing at all the guys in black spandex until I got out of the car and felt the wind chill on my uncovered legs. I never wanted tights so badly. It was below freezing with the wind chill during our entire race. Awesome . . .

We mulled around a bit and sorta stretched/jogged while we waited for the race to start. It was kinda surreal standing there in a huddled mass of people shivering and hoping that our suffering would hurry up and start cuz we were freaking cold! Although we were standing together when the race started, within literally 5 seconds my lovely wife was 20 yards in front of me. And we stayed that distance apart for the first mile or so. I guess she just didn't want to be seen with me. The first quarter mile was terrifying. I couldn't believe how bad I felt. I later learned that stretching and warming up are good things before a race. Who knew . . . ?!

One thing that I couldn't get over during the race were the "drink stations." I'd seen these on TV and never though twice about 'em. But I'm jogging along and some kind volunteer hands me a dixie cup of Gatorade. Nice, right? Well, I challenge you to run and drink Gatorade out of a cup at the same time. Not possible! I tried and tried - it really got frustrating. In the end I had purple liquid all over my shirt and I was still thirsty. (I'm serious, try it)

Now the part that will live in infamy . . . I had debated whether this was shareable with my little blog audience, but TV cameras caught it, so what the hey. There's a thin line between dignity, pride and confidence. I've chosen to eschew all three of those in sharing this. So remember my little "sprint" at the end of our Thursday run? Well, towards the end of the actual race I decided to do it again. Coach always said to "leave it all on the field" and "give it all you got" and other highly motivational things like that. So I went as hard as I could. The finish line and the throngs of people, cameras, and water bottles were there waiting for me and within sight. But as I pushed hard through the final 30 feet - it hit me. I was . . . done. The knot in my stomach decided it was time to unkink itself and it wasn't gonna wait a moment longer. My legs quit, and as Traci motioned frantically towards the finish line I veered away from the middle of the road towards her standing on the sidewalk (she'd long since finished the race) and there on the side of the road I "revealed to the crowd the contents of my breakfast." I then turned and meekly "ran" the six steps to finish the race - trying to avoid eye contact with anyone.

You may recall that my goal was 30 minutes and I finished in 28:12 and got 10th in my age group. Click here for full results. I was fairly proud of that, but it was nicely tarnished by my little show at the end in front of all the onlookers. Traci did amazing (2nd in her group and a full minute better than a year ago). Will I race again? Yeah. But I definitely learned my lesson. I'll sign up for the 4.95K next time.