The lush, corn filled fields of green in Iowa still giving my eyes red after-images from their brilliance, I couldn't help but sigh at the forlorn yellow of the dry and dusty expanse we drove through on the way home from the Airport in Salt Lake. "We really do live in a desert!" was the main idea in mind. When I mentioned this to my parents, they laughed, made a few DRY (pun intended) jokes about it, until Dad decided to get poetic: "Look at it this way: there's still something exotic and beautiful about it, like a rough woman lying naked on a rock...." His voice lists slightly, as if he gets carried away on the rhythm of his words. Sorry, but my idea of a rough woman is pretty much unshaven legs and pits, a moustache, and gold teeth. Definitely not an elegant picture, which pretty much sums up what I saw in the parched land of Utah. But I guess it really isn't all that bad; the mountains have their own grand beauty, every lone tree standing tall in a grassy field; a nobleness about it. My parents agreed enthusiastically, Mom going a little overboard, comparing the white capped mountains to a woman's bosom. Now after spending a week with a new nursing mother, I couldn't help but picture a snowy mountain top gushing with milk, and giggled uncontrollably in the back seat while my parents went on to discuss Mount Timpanogos and how it got its name-sake from an indian maiden...It always creates good times when your parents get creative!



Wednesday, August 09, 2006

I am in IOWAYYYYYYY! I am in IOWAYYYYYYYYYYY! Music Man, you got nothin' on me!The day started out early, a three o'clock a.m. alarm buzzing my brain into action. My dad's almost anal but worthwhile desire to always be on time being the cause of our early departure..."We have to be at the airport TWO hours early!"After a frantic search of my only i.d. (futile, we never did find it) we finally pulled out of the garage with two birth certificates in hand and a prayer that the security agents would just let us through, no questions asked. It was too much to ask! I ended up turning red in the face as the security man yelled to all the world "This kid ain't got no I.D.!!! Search him thoroughly! Who knows if he's a terrorist!" I guess my Brown Complexion, as my sister says, was the main culprit of this tactless accusation. I ended up getting through security faster than my Dad and Tina who went through the normal version. All I did was get a pleasant if abrupt burst of air in the face, a quick pat down, and front-of-the-line placement in front of everyone else. Pays to be brown!!!



Wed. Aug. 8, 2006

Is there something wrong with watering the roses out front with no shirt on? I can't help but feel a smug grin come onto my face when the neighbors glance over and see me with a book and the hose. Those cute girls driving down to seven peaks try to sneak a peak, you can tell they can't help but look...their cars always drift slightly to the left as their turned heads inevitably influence their steering. I never come in from watering without a smile on my face! ;)

My little sister and me. Always popcorn, always the pond, always us two. Always seems to get shorter and shorter every day, doesn't it....


Ode to Tina...
Today my sister was having a rough time. Being diagnosed with meningitis at two weeks and obtaining severe brain damage ever since, I guess she's always had a hard time. But today has been rough in contrast to her smiling, head-butting, dancing-to-the-music energy that she's been giving off lately. Today, she was in severe Status seizures for most of the morning. In order to ease her brain synapses into a calmer state, I attempted first thing after her morning dose of who knows how many meds to play her some soothing music on my guitar. Teddy Geiger's "For You I Will" spouted from my fingers, the music visibly penetrating the raging storm in her head. A steady beat, a steady strum amidst the chaos. I have witnessed Music Therapy first hand many times before, and this was no exception. A slight smile slide into place on her lips, her incessant twitching slowed until it was nonexistant. Her head started bobbing, slowly, faster, faster until she was wiggling and dancing with enthusiasm. I couldn't help but smile at that. But then.... WHAM, the saddening and heart wrenching thought occurs to me that I have but a couple of months to share my music with her before I'm gone for two years. My mission "takes" me away from her. And what's worse is that I made the decision myself. And regret does not fill my heart. I should be rent with guilt! "Come on Dad! Mom! The guitar is not that hard to learn!" The phrase still brings exasperation. Dad's feeble attempts to learn have been disheartening at the best. It's not his fault his once deft fingers just aren't what they used to be. Mom's singing voice is great, magnificent, but couldn't hold a candle to my playing in Tina's eyes. (At least, that's how I see it...)"Poor sis', what are you gonna do? When Mom and Dad can't think of what to do to excite your bones into motion, how are you going to cope?" But what am I saying, you're the toughest little trooper I know, and you definitely don't need me around to make you happy. Yeah, you don't need me....at least, that's what I've been telling myself. That's the only way I'll be able to cope. I think I need you more than you need me. Your smile brings MY smiles, your sorrows, MINE. Being away from Mom and Dad will be tough, but the toughest thing will be taking care of someone other than you. But then, that's how I'll find my motivation: for every soul I teach, I'll be trying to bring into their lives some of the love and light that you bring into my own. So thanks for your inspiration, Tina. Like your patriarchal blessing said, you will bless the lives of thousands!
p.s. Thank you God for the ease my fingers feel when holding a guitar!