Welcome to My Life

So I am new to the whole blogging thang, but I find it somewhat big-headed of me to think that
somebody would be interested in reading a webpage about my life (or my random thoughts and
observations); But whether it is the flattering thought that people might actually be interested in what I have to say or the idea of using this as sort of a journal-type experience, this blogging thing is kinda thereputic.


I'll pretend that I have regular readers (if that's just me, so be it) who are good friends.

I suppose a good way to start that out is to introduce myself and my life. I'm 23 and single (this is young! Here in Utah I might as well be telling people that I'm 40...we'll save that for another post); physically I'm a wirey, caucasian, 6 foot tall, Adrian Brody look alike who can grow one....magnificent beard. I'm a jazz saxophone player (majoring in jazz studies) who takes any opportunity to convince himself and others that he should have been born a black man in the 1970's--what a gorgeously fascinating time. Despite my strict Mormon/Utahn upbringing I'm an open-minded free-thinker. Don't get me wrong... I'm still LDS, in fact, I'm very active and strong in my religious beliefs, I just know WHY and I'm a motivated seeker of truth from all sources (religious, scientific, mythological, or
otherwise).

In my experience, most people have good intentions so it's hard to be mad at the world; it just so happens that most of those "most people" are not too good at following through with their good intentions. It's hard to point fingers though; we all have our weeknesses. When I was living in Portland, my missionary companion and I had an old piece of paper stuck to our door that said "Lord, please help me to accept those that sin differently than I do." Amen whoever you are...Amen.

Awesome Anger: the Aged vs. the Adolescent

There are two raging volcanoes in my house. Both are predictable and uncontrollable, but neither will stop errupting once they've started. For years there was only one that we all feared and we all learned to get out of it's way until it had cooled off and began sleaping again. As the years went on, that volcano grew old and more dormant. Then...another power arose in the household; it was much smaller than the old mountain and not as experienced, but it carried within itself the stamina of the new generation and the rage of Vesuvius. As the new volcano began its frequent adolescent explosions it rekindled the flame within the old mountain. The legendary "Battle For the Last Word" commenced; forests were devistated instantly and the affects are still being felt throughout the land. For years now, whenever one volcano erupts, it triggers a chain reactions of thousands of little catastrophes and the boiling lava covers all of the innocent village people who (despite their many offerings to these angry gods) writhe in agony as their flesh gets charred from the wave of the arguing titans.