Sutherland Manifesto

I Asked, And She Said Yes

2012-02-13T13:38:00.002-07:00

I asked Paige to go to a Valentine's Day daddy/daughter dance tonight at Kearns High School. She graciously accepted my invitation...and then quickly started planning.

Paige: I think I'll wear my pink flower dress because it's Valentine's.

Me: That sounds good. I can wear my red tie or this pink one.

Paige: Wear the red tie.

[I hold up the tie.]

Paige: Yeah, that will work.

I Did it For You, Kirsten Dunst

2012-02-11T07:04:00.000-07:00

So, let's talk about my bowels for a moment. (Yay!) A few months ago, I found out I had some kidney stones--big, pointed, jagged, painful kidney stones. But enough about that.

The CT scan that showed the kidney stones also revealed a fatty liver--the kind you get from years and years of drinking, or apparently, from being me. My doctor called me in to tell me about all of the horrible things that would happen to me if I didn't do something about it. Blah, blah, diet, blah, blah, weight loss, etc.

So despite all of my kicking and screaming, I gave in and put down the bags of potato chips and decided to get healthy(er). I am happy to report that I have hit my first weight loss goal, dropping nine pounds over the past five-ish weeks.

Soon I'll be able to fit into my old cheerleading costume.

Two Grown Men, In a Dark Theater, Watching Twilight

2012-02-09T19:47:00.000-07:00

"I want to hate it, but I can't." That was what my friend Kaleb said when he told me that he thought that we should watch the "Twilight" movie sometime.

Sometime came, and then next thing I knew, I was watching the first three Twilights on DVD over three connective weeks. Despite all of the longing glances, moody teenage angst, and vampire families playing baseball in thunderstorms, I couldn't really agree with Kaleb's take on the films.

But there's obviously no turning back now. That's why I'm headed off to the dollar movies at the Valley Fair Mall at 9 o'clock on a Thursday night. Will Bella really chose Edward? Is she really going to become a vampire? The anticipation is killing me!

Me: Bye, Traci. I'm going to the movie with Kaleb.
Traci: I hope your hands don't accidentally meet at the bottom of the popcorn bowl.

If it happens, it happens.

Princess Paige and Evil Curtis...on Broadway

2012-01-27T15:53:00.001-07:00

I just finished my performance in the play "Princess Paige and the Evil Curtis."

The plot of Paige's play followed the title pretty closely. "Once upon a time, there was a beautiful girl, the most beautiful girl in the world," said the narrator/lead actress. "Her name was Princess Paige."

At that point, the Evil Curtis (the role he was born to play) enters the scene, (wearing his self-chosen costume--his Halloween skeleton shirt and his swimming suit) to wreak havoc on the tranquility of this imaginary world.

Luckily, Super Spencer was there (in his Paige-chosen costume--a blanket for a cape and a golf visor that makes him look "handsome") to save the day.

After MANY similar acts, Paige is finally saved. Then we get to start it all over again if Paige notices that Traci wasn't paying complete attention.

And they all lived happily ever after.

Rock Band

2012-01-23T07:38:00.000-07:00

So, I still play in a band. Johnny Tightlips still gathers in my basement once a week to hammer out some punk rock songs. After six years and millions of unsuccessfully attempts, we've finally given up on the idea of recording an album in my basement.

We've been spending our Saturdays at Danny's cousin Tom's house, laying down tracks and being inspired by the Slayer and Metallica flags on the wall. The guitars, bass, and drums have been tracked for four songs, now Aaron and I just have to add our lovely vocals. For the time being, we're doing four songs (we'll do another three if Tom is willing), and they should be done in a week or two.

That means we'll be teenage heartthrobs in about a month. Watch out, Bieber. We're coming for you.

This Week's Music: Dan Andriano, Owl City, Letting Up

2012-01-22T22:41:00.000-07:00

The title is a bit misleading. By "This Week," I mean I found this post from months ago in my drafts folder.

Dan Andriano in the Emergency Room
Hurricane Season

Dan Andriano has always been Alkaline Trio’s softie. But on his first full-length solo release, he’s a full-on teddy bear. And that suits him just fine. Andriano sticks to the catchy hooks he’s perfected through his years with AK3, but the music--driven by acoustic guitars and piano fluorishes--is a good fit for the tales of heartbreak. The lyrics are lonely (“I’m a mess, I’m a ghost who overslept on Halloween”), but the tunes are so upbeat that it’s hard not to clap your hands and sing along. With “Hurricane Season,” Andriano delivers a mature record (but not too grown up for his punk following), that doesn’t sound like it was made for your mom.

For fans of: Alkaline Trio, Dashboard Confessional
Rating: 3. 5 of 4

Owl City
All Things Bright and Beautiful

Success is always accompanied by some backlash. With his 2009 hit “Fireflies,” Owl City’s Adam Young made million of fans. But there were also plenty of detractors accusing him of being nothing more than a mainstream version of The Postal Service. Both camps will feel the same after hearing “All Things Bright and Beautiful.” Young’s top-notch (and still Postal Service-inspired) production skills still rise to the top and every electronic bleep and bloop finds the perfect home. His lyrics, however, have become intolerably sugary, as he floats through skies that are filled with rockets, dreams, and girls he’s too shy to talk to. (The worst offense comes in the line “If the green left the grass on the other side/I would make like a tree and leave.”) It must be wonderful to live in Young’s world, where things are sunny all the time. His overly happy songs, however, would benefit from a little bit of rain now and then.

For fans of: LIGHTS, The Postal Service
Rating: 2.5 of 4

Letting Up Despite Great Faults
Paper Crush

Michael Lee, the man behind Letting Up Despite Great Faults, has a penchant for heartfelt, shoegazing electronic pop. On his third release, that infrastructure remains in tact, but the accessories have changed. The EP opens up with guitars leading the way (an approach that is used again nicely on “Teenage Tide”) before being tempered by the usual atmospheric synths. Lee wisely lets his own vocals take a backseat and they add to the layers of longing (for what, it’s hard to tell, given the unintelligible lyrics). On “I Feel You Happen,” Lee lets go entirely, creating a raucous noise fest worthy of My Bloody Valentine. Not one to let emotion get the best of him, he reigns the energy back in for the closer, the bouncy and beautiful almost-instrumental “Aurora.”

For fans of: The Album Leaf, The One Am Radio
Rating: 3.5 of 4

Boy Logic

2012-01-22T22:17:00.002-07:00

When I wrote about Paige heading out into the cold, cold world, my friend RB, who has four little boys, commented about the differences between our worlds. (Girls sound much different. Recently rehashed at our house when Noah body slammed Calvin: "uggg get off me! You smell like poop and jelly!")

Luckily, I've got two boys so I could have this experience trying to get all the kids into the minivan.

TATE (in his car seat on the kitchen): Waaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!

PAIGE (running up the stairs to tattle): Dad, Curtis punched Tate!

ME (frustrated as usual): That's it, Curtis. You're going in time out.

CURTIS (bawling): I don't want to go to time out.

ME (after his three-minute sentence had been served): Curtis, do you know why you had to go in time out? You punched your baby brother. We don't punch babies, Curtis.

CURTIS (now wailing): Yes, yes we do, dad. We do punch babies. We do!

Paige Rampages On

2012-01-22T16:36:00.001-07:00

I guess Traci's not the only feeling the wrath of Princess Paige. Tonight She told me if I didn't give her a treat she was going to "banish" me.

The Trouble with Raising a Princess

2012-01-21T11:28:00.001-07:00

I was at work when I got this call from Traci.

Traci: I was trying to comb Paige's hair [this is a daily, horrible struggle], when she said this to me. "Mom, you're being so cruel to me. You're just as cruel as Rapunzel's mom on Tangled."

Either I married a wicked witch or Paige is watching too many Disney movies.

Baby When the Lights Go Out

2012-01-18T23:12:00.001-07:00

Yet another traumatic experience for the Sutherland children. It happened while I was trying to get everyone ready for bed. I was in the laundry room searching for Tate's pajamas when the power went out. Tate was crawling around in the adjacent family room, Curtis was up in the kitchen, and Paige was in the bathroom.

When it went black, it went pitch black. My first thought was, "Oh crap, I've lost Tate." Luckily, he managed to find me and about two seconds later he was pulling himself up on my leg. Curtis wasn't hard to find as immediately started screaming hysterically. Paige was surprisingly calm in the darkened bathroom upstairs.

Even with flashlights in hand, Curtis continued to freak out. Paige calmly explained to him that "monsters don't exist and when you think you see them, it's really just the shadow of a regular object." (Thanks, TV.) But he would not be consoled. "Turn the light on, Dad. Turn it onnnnnn!"

Luckily, the lights came on a minute or two later. Curtis calmed down pretty quickly but then Paige decided to change her story.

"I was wrong, Dad. There were monsters downstairs. They do exist." I would normally indulge her in such a conversation but Curtis was standing there and getting upset again. "There's no monsters, Paige! They don't exist!" he countered.

"Curtis, Paige is just pretending," I assured him. "Monsters aren't real."

Then Paige kicked into overdrive. "Yes, they do, Dad. They do. Why won't anyone believe me? This is horrible. My spirit feels horrible." (Thanks, church.)

That's when I looked at Tate and silently thanked him for not being able to speak.

Spinner Becomes the Next Jimmer

2012-01-10T07:27:00.000-07:00

Jimmer Fredette's sister lives in our neighborhood. While I was watching a Kings game on TV, I said to Curtis, "Do you see that guy? That's your buddy Jason's uncle. He's a professional basketball player."

Paige, never willing to be left out of a conversation, replied, "Dad, you like to play basketball. Maybe if you keep practicing, you can be a professional basketball player."

Hear that, Jimmer? You better watch your back.

The First Kiss

2012-01-09T07:01:00.002-07:00

When Paige's first boyfriend was eaten by wolves, I was hoping that she was done with boys forever. No such luck.

We were in the car the other day when she said to me, "You'll never believe what happened at school."

"Oh, yeah," I replied, only kind of paying attention.

"Deacon kissed me!"

"WHAT?!!!!!!!!!!!" I was now paying full attention.

"He kissed me."

"Why did he kiss you?"

"Because he loves me soooo much."

I tried to keep it cool. I didn't want to let her know that I was rattled.

"So, did he kiss you on your cheek?"

"No, on my lips."

...

A few days later, I decided to bring it up again.

"Paige, you shouldn't let boys kiss you. Only dad."

"Why?" she asked.

"Because boys are gross and toot and stuff."

"And say naughty words," she added.

"Yeah. So if Deacon tries to kiss you again, you just say, 'No way, Deacon. You're gross.'"

She seemed to be okay with that. I'll take that as a verbal contract that is valid until her wedding day.

Ooh, She's a Little Runaway

2012-01-08T21:50:00.000-07:00

My ward started holding a "how to raise your kids" class during Sunday School. This is a good thing for a guy like me who has no idea how to raise kids.

The timing of the lesson on "life stages" couldn't have come at a better time. Learning that around age 6, kids start threatening to run away made me feel a little bit better about the day I'd had before.

The Day Before...

Christmas decorations are just too tempting. I asked Paige (repeatedly) to leave the little porcelain nativity scene on the shelf, but she just couldn't help herself. Within two seconds of touching it, she had dropped and broken poor, unsuspecting Mary.

Before I even said anything to her, she looked at me and said sternly, "Dad, I'm not in trouble," She then stamped her and declared, "I'm out of here!"

More silence from me as she put on her coat.

"I'm going out in the cold," she said, in most dramatic fashion.

Curtis and I watched out the window as my six-year-old left to face the cruel world.

About a minute later, she came back. "Dad, I'm not coming back until you apologize to me."

"Paige, I'm sorry that I got upset with you. But I really need me you to listen to me when I ask you not to do things."

"Daaaad. I'm leaving. I'll come back when you give me a real apology." And off she went again.

I imagine this would have gone on all day, but I had leverage on my side.

"Paige, you're welcome to stay out there, but if we're going to be on time to your friend's birthday party, you're going to have to come back in."

Reluctantly, she gave in.

By the time she came home from her birthday party, filled with sugar and armed with a gift bag full of princess trinkets, all was forgiven.

2011-12-25T21:08:00.001-07:00

Curtis brushed his teeth tonight, which was good. But he was chewing gum at the time, which I guess wasn't too good.

Another Christmas Miracle

2011-12-24T19:42:00.002-07:00

I took Curtis to Cookie Cutters today to deal with his hippie hair. To my surprise, he didn't freak out when we got there, which meant he didn't have to sit on my lap, which meant I didn't have to hold the kid thrashing in rage. And he wore his cape, which meant we didn't both have to get covered in hair, which in turn makes one of us even more upset. And he didn't move his head around like Stevie Wonder, causing the poor 18-year-old barber girl to do about as good a job as I could with my sideburn trimmer. Merry Christmas every one.

Christmas Has Come Early

2011-12-23T12:38:00.001-07:00

Right now Paige and Curtis are at "Alvin and the Chipmunks: Chipwrecked."

Without Traci and me.

Thanks grandparents, for making this the best Christmas ever.

Li'l Rudolph or The Plight of Christopher Columbus

2011-12-21T08:38:00.003-07:00

Paige had her school Christmas program today. She and her fellow kindergarteners sang Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. She was pretty excited about singing such awesome echoes as "like a lightbulb." The real surprise came when the kids followed "you'll go down in history," with "like Justin Bieber!"

"Justin Bieber?" I asked.

"Yeah," she replied. "Because not everybody knows who Columbus is."

And there you have it. Bieber discovered America.

(And he was like "Baby, baby, baby, oh.")

Heavyweight Tate

2011-12-16T08:19:00.002-07:00

At some point, our little baby boy turned into a chubby linebacker. Last night, I was bouncing him on my foot and now my thighs feel like I just ran a 5k.

"Just more of me to love, Dad," his eyes said. "Just more of me to love."

"These Feet are Delicious," Starring Tate

2011-12-14T21:47:00.000-07:00

It's hard enough to feed Tate with his hands flailing about. But when he gets his feet in the mix? Forget about it.

Can't see the video? Click here.

Words with Enemies

2011-12-09T10:55:00.000-07:00

I'm about as good at Words with Friends as I am at Fantasy Football (I told the commissioner I wasn't going to play after last year's 1-12 season. He said it had just been a "rebuilding year."). I generally lose to any opponent by 50-200 points.

My friend Brett always slaughters me. But this time was different. Four simple letters, J-O-Y-S, netted me 105 points, thanks to both a triple letter AND a triple word score. 105 points! I had to tell Traci. (And I wanted to tell everyone I know.)

I chose not to call it out to Brett. What kind of sore winner would I be if I did?

But then things started to change. Brett would throw out a 30-point word, and then a 35, and then a 50!

This was not looking good. My hands were starting to sweat.

And then he pulled away. The final score was 389-373, despite my 100-point word.

If only I had the letters to spell d-e-j-e-c-t-e-d.

Tonsils Out, Evil Remains

2011-12-05T07:44:00.003-07:00

We didn't tell Curtis he was getting his tonsils out until we got to the hospital. Not surprisingly, he showed his strong will as soon as we got into the exam room.

NURSE: Hi, Curtis. Can you put on these nice little jammies and socks?

Curtis refuses.

NURSE: I've got this really cool coloring book. Do you want to color in it?

He throws it on the floor.

He kicked and screamed as the nurse tried to take his temperature and listen to his heart. He writhed and screamed as they gave him his medicine (a light sedative), and then quickly calmed down as it kicked in. Even drugged up, he wasn't about to put on that hospital gown and, refusing to ride in the little wagon to the Operating Room, had to be carried away (screaming) by anesthesiologist in just his diaper.

The doctor told us a tonsillectomy would be easy for him--about a 20 minute procedure--but hard for us, who would have to deal with an upset little guy for a couple of weeks.

As promised, the doctor appeared after only a few minutes to tell us that all had gone well.

"He was pretty worked up when he came into the O.R.," he said. "He threw his truck at us."

"But crying just makes you breathe deeper and it only took about two breaths before his sedative mask kicked in."

He was screaming again when he was delivered to us in the recovery area, which I'm sure didn't feel good on his sore throat. He looked like he'd been through the ringer, with scratches on his face where I'm sure he was trying to claw off his oxygen mask. It was pretty sad to see him with his little IV in his hand. Fortunately, a kid-sized Lortab knocked him back out and he spent the rest of day in a foggy haze.

The doctor was right about the recovery time. We had about 10 days where he didn't want to eat anything (not even the freezer full of popsicles and ice cream), woke up screaming (and often kicking) several times a night, and was generally miserable.

And then he was back to normal.

They don't take kids' tonsils out like they used to. Apparently, Curtis' were mega enough, and causing enough earaches and sore throats, that it warranted the procedure. The doctor also thought it would help Curtis get a more restful sleep each night.

For the kid who wakes up each morning in ornery mode, I thought this was going to be a life changer. I had convinced myself that all of his naughtiness was residing in those tonsils and when they came out, we'd have a brand new boy.

Nope. Still evil.

Sharing and Caring

2011-12-04T18:02:00.001-07:00

Paige is such a considerate six-year-old. When she woke us up at one in the morning, she said, "I tried not to throw up on my bed." And she didn't. Instead she, from her top bunk, threw up over the side--and onto her little brother below. Fortunately, we were able to change Curtis' blankets without him even waking up.

The next night it was Curtis' turn to be sick. He didn't have anyone below him to throw up on, but he did manage to hit just about every surface in the house.

Vomit is a little bit like thinking you have lice. Once you smell it, you think everything smells like it. Traci was lying in the bed and said, "Do you still smell throw up somewhere?" Unable to locate the source, she reached over and grabbed the laptop next to the bed and started typing away. A few keystrokes in and there was some crunching in the keyboard.

I spent yesterday prying up the keys and digging out the dried vomit.

Too much information?

Obedience

2011-11-21T20:37:00.000-07:00

Curtis did something quite unexpected tonight. I asked him to stop playing and get his pajamas on. And he did!

Quite surprised, I said, "Curtis, thanks for being obedient, buddy."

"I learned about being obedient in nursery."

Had someone taken my terrible three-year-old and replaced him with this kid?

Before I could even finish that thought, Curtis walked up to me and punched me in the stomach.

Nope. Still the same kid.

Curtis: The Fugitive

2011-11-09T07:05:00.001-07:00

Paige skipping school wasn't the only big news of the day. Traci came home with Curtis' preschool picture as well. She texted this to me:

She added in her note, "I feel like this pretty much sums up Curtis as a three-year-old."

Curtis isn't going to let anyone tell him what to do. Do you think Curtis is going to smile or say cheese just because you ask him to? Oh, heavens no. Instead, he's going to just go ahead and pose for his eventual mugshot. What can I say, he's a tough guy.

The next day, I tried to sneak a smile out of him as we walked Paige to the bus stop. I didn't capture any teeth, but I did get this shot of him wearing his Salt Lake Bees hat.

Underneath that rough exterior, he's really a softie.

Parenthood Firsts: The "Sick" Day

2011-11-08T14:00:00.000-07:00

I was at work when Paige's elementary school called.

"Hi, this is the secretary. We've got Paige here in the sick room. She says her stomach doesn't feel well and she thinks she might throw up."

Uh-oh.

"Can you come pick her up or would you like us to keep her here?"

"I'm at work, but my wife should be home. Let me see if I can track her down."

I found Traci and she headed over to pick up our sick little girl. I was heading into a meeting, but I asked her to text me when she picked Paige up.

TRACI: I've got her, but I feel really doubtful that she's sick.

This was at about 11:00. Traci takes Curtis to preschool at 12:30.

SPENCER: See if she wants to go back when you take Curtis.

TRACI: She's mad because I told her that if she's sick, she can't have any Halloween candy. She doesn't want to go back, though.

TRACI: She just asked me for lunch. I asked about her "sick" stomach. She told me it's actually her teeth that hurt. What is the emoticon for rolling eyes?

Despite the lack of candy, Paige seemed to have a wonderful day off of school. I got this text later in the afternoon.

TRACI: Paige is in her room playing school. Apparently being a teacher requires you to speak in a British accent.

Oh, the irony of staying home from school just so you can play school in your room.

I guess this shouldn't have come as too much of a surprise. Just the Sunday before, Paige said to me, "Can we stay home from church today?"

"No," I replied. "We have to go to church."

"We could just pretend we're sick."

Yes, I thought. Yes, we could.

The Crypt Keeper Five

2011-11-01T22:11:00.001-07:00

Along with parenthood has come the need for favorites. Favorite colors, and numbers, and Wiggles, and monster trucks, and Strawberry Shortcake characters. And, of course, favorite holidays.

Paige loves holidays. She'll bound into our bedroom to awake us with cheers of "It's Martin Luther King Day!" or "I can't believe it's already Labor Day!" But Halloween, that's her number one holiday.

Curtis, on the other hand, is clearly rooted in his terrible, terrible threes and kind of hates everything. He spent all of last Halloween trying to get out of his costume, only to tell us that he wanted to wear the same fireman getup again this year.

So while Paige headed off to school to count down the minutes until she could come back and get in her costume, Curtis was at home trying to avoid the holiday all together.

I invited Traci and the boys to come to my work to trick or treat around the cubicles. A few minutes before they were to arrive, Traci called to tell me that Curtis was refusing to get in the car.

"Oh, just shove him in there, he'll like it when he gets here," I advised. (Fatherly wisdom.)

She did. And then she called me again from the parking lot. "Curtis is refusing to get out of the car."

Despite my efforts to coax him out with candy and the promise that he wouldn't have to speak to (or look at) anyone, he stood strong in his resistance. So Traci, Curtis, and Tate in his little skeleton onesy turned around and headed back home.

The evening went a bit better. Curtis agreed to get in his costume (sans hat) for some trick or treat action.

Paige led the way, running from door to door and constantly being amazed by the amount of candy booty. But then things took a turn for the worst. Heading up to another door, she tripped on a step and came up with a pretty bad bloody lip.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" I asked.

Through hiccuping sobs she replied,"I'll...be...okay...[sob, sob]...Let's...keep...trick or treating."

So we carried on, Paige walking somberly but resolutely and Curtis needing to be piggy-backed for most of the night. (It's fun to have a sleepy 30-pounder on your shoulders, banging you in the head with a plastic pumpkin.)

Another holiday survived.

Paige's First Piano Recital

2011-10-23T14:38:00.002-07:00

I don't think I used to be so gushy. But this a proud parent moment. A couple of years ago, Traci and I were worried that Paige would never stop being so incredibly shy. And now, here she is marching up to the front of the stage for a piano recital (after just three lessons) and bravely (if not a bit quietly) saying, "My name is Paige Sutherland and I will be playing Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star." (Traci's sister Makell joins her on the other two songs.)

We couldn't be more proud of her.

Dear Mr. Fish, I Will Eat You Now

2011-10-18T07:42:00.017-07:00

The year was 1987. It was Super Bowl Sunday and I was getting ready to cheer on my beloved Denver Broncos as they faced the New York Giants. My mother made halibut for dinner, which was noteworthy because she never cooked fish. Having no prior experience to fish, I ate it.

It was disgusting.

I can still taste the strong fishy flavor--combined with the bitter taste of a 39-20 loss, mixed with the salt of my six-year-old tears--on my tongue.

In the years since, I have avoided fish almost entirely. Until last week.

Much like yoga, I've always thought I should give sushi a try. But I've never been motivated enough to say, "Hey Traci, let's go get some sushi tonight." (Or say, "Let's go to sushi." Why do people "go to" sushi? I'm going to start saying, "Hey, let's go to pasta" or "Let's go to hamburgers.") And Traci would never agree to sushi anyway.

But I have some other friends who can't get enough of the uncooked stuff. So I tagged along.

My first sushi experience started off well enough. I was having a great time at the restaurant, chatting it up, and drinking my orange Fanta. And the something happened.

"What's that fishy smell in here?" I thought. It was, of course, our meal.

I started off cautiously with the California roll. Then I moved on to the Spider roll...and then to the Prozac roll...and then the Xanax roll...and then to all of the other ultra-cool-pharmaceutically-named rolls. I dipped stuff in eel sauce and wasabi sauce and whatever else. And soon I realized I'd already downed like 10 of the things.

Did I like it? No, not really. But I figured if I was going to try it, I better try it.

It wasn't until I was driving home--and thinking it best to roll down the window and get some air--that I realized that was a bit too much to ask of a stomach so unaccustomed to things of the sea. (Especially after the large amounts of deer jerky I'd eaten at lunch, prepared by the guy who said, 'I hope you don't get sick, I've never made deer jerky before.')

But I hung on.

And now I have two memories of fish: the first of three Denver Broncos Super Bowl defeats (which was bad), followed by two Denver Bronco victories (which was good); and a meal that made me a little sick (which was bad), but was accompanied by some delicious orange Fanta and some dear homies (which were both good).

Only four months 'til my birthday lunch at the Chuck a Rama.

Curtis Getting Tough on the Pitch

2011-10-17T07:17:00.004-07:00

We have reached the end of Curtis' first season of soccer. I'd say it was a success. He scored a few goals for his team (and a bunch more for the other teams), he got a lot of treats, and he got to finish every bit of running with a little bit of rolling around on the ground.

I got this footage of him during his last game. Watch as he (number 10) shows the little girl on the other team who's boss. (Poor girl. She was pretty much down for the count.)

Desperately Hanging onto Summer

2011-10-16T21:15:00.000-07:00

In a last ditch effort to hang on to summer, we headed to St. George this weekend with our friends the Smiths. What more can you ask for than a sunny 85 degrees?

And now, back home. Bummer, dude.

Once Again. The Sutherlands, Model of Healthy Eating

2011-10-14T17:52:00.001-07:00

Paige: Can I have some salt and vinegar chips with my pancakes?

Me: Of course, sweetie.

Pretty Scary Skeleton

2011-10-06T19:53:00.002-07:00

Getting in Touch with My Pelvic Floor

2011-10-03T16:15:00.000-07:00

I didn’t even know I had a pelvic floor.

I only made one New Year’s resolution this year: to take a yoga class. Why? I don’t know. Maybe because we have a gym at my work with free yoga classes. Maybe because I think it’s good to feel like a complete idiot every once in a while.

I did it. I took my first yoga class.

From the first 30 seconds of the class, I realized the biggest challenge would be keeping a straight face. Which was tough, with the instructor saying things like, “Breathe down through your core all the way to your toes, giving added focus to your pelvis. Feel it move. Feel it moving your body.”

I thought yoga was going to be all about stretching and positive thinking. But I soon learned that “plank” position is just a euphemism for “pushup” position, and suddenly I was transported to seventh grade gym class. By the class’ halfway mark, I was already sweating profusely and feeling really bad for whoever was sitting behind me, as my shirt was falling over my head and shorts were going who knows where.

Toward the end, we were sitting cross-legged with a goal of resting our heads on the floor. For those whose bodies were not capable of achieving such a thing, an alternative was offered. Bend as far as you can, and rest your head on a little green foam block. My foam block quickly turned into a seat-filled sponge.

With 15 minutes left in the class, I started thinking I might actually be able to make It to the end (with 30 minutes left, I was really worried that I would have to give up and leave). I was glad I stuck it out, because the last 10 minutes was just lying on our backs with our eyes closed. Sweet.

After the class ended, several of my co-workers/co-yoga-ers asked what I thought of my first experience. With a dazed look on my face, I replied, “I’m not sure what just happened to me.”

Still confused, I walked into the locker room. One glance in the mirror and I noticed something odd. Green letters written backwards on my forehead. Argh! The foam block.

The next day, I said to one of my friends, “Did you notice the writing on my forehead?”

“Yeah. But I figured you’d had a tough enough time in class that I didn’t need to say anything.”

Namaste.

Dieter F. Uchtdorf vs. Mike Tyson's Punchout

2011-10-02T11:10:00.000-07:00

Watching General Conference this morning...

ME: His name is Dieter F. Uchtdorf. He's from Germany.

PAIGE: I know someone else who's from Germany.

ME: Yeah? Who?

PAIGE: Von Kaiser.

The Innocent Prayer of a (n Evil) Child

2011-09-26T22:37:00.000-07:00

Now that Paige is all religious, Curtis has followed suit. So of course they fight over who's going to say the prayer (I don't think that either of them is as interested in saying the prayer as they are in making sure that the other one doesn't get to say it.)

This morning, we had the usual fight over who's turn it was. Curtis freaked out, and instead of just praying at the same time as Paige (only much louder) like he normally does, he took a more drastic approach. The second Paige closed her eyes, he grabbed a bottle of lotion and chucked it right at her head.

Are we the only family that has to pause mid-prayer to put their kids in time out?

Tactical Soccer Genius for Three-Year-Olds

2011-09-23T06:41:00.004-07:00

I was happy to hear these words of wisdom from Curtis' soccer coach to his team during half-time.

Coach: Okay, soccer friends. I want to tell you a secret. [She leans in closely and talks softly.] You guys are doing really good out there. But here's the thing: you can't punch or push. You can't punch or push the Yellow Jackets [the other team] and you can't punch or push the Blue Sharks [Curtis' team].

This was bad news for Curtis, who's not afraid to throw an elbow or two.

Blair Waldorf v. Pee-Wee Herman

2011-09-22T18:33:00.000-07:00

The other night, Traci came home with "The Roommate." This was not too surprising, seeing that it stars Leighton Meester (aka Blair Waldorf) and we watched at least the first three seasons of Gossip Girl before we gave up on it. But we don't normally watch scary movies.

When Meester's creepy, stalking character put her roommates cat in the dryer, I said, "Uh, so why did you rent this?"

"Oh, I don't know," Traci replied.

By the time Blair Waldorf was stabbing the roommate's ex-boyfriend with a boxcutter, Traci had to read a book to distract her from the movie.

The next night, we watched "Pee-Wee's Big Adventure," something that was a little more our speed. It's weird when you're old enough to say things like, "I haven't seen that movie in at least 15 years." But it's also weird that you can still know all of the words from a movie you haven't watched in 15 years.

One of my favorite lines:

Francis: Shut up, Pee-wee!
Pee-wee: Why don't you make me.
Francis: You make me!
Pee-wee: Because. I don't make monkeys, I just train 'em.
Francis: Pee-wee, listen to reason.
[Pee-Wee cuffs his hand around his ear in a listening motion]
Francis: Pee-wee!
Pee-wee: Sh! I'm listening to reason.
Francis: Pee-wee!

Words of Wisdom from Young Women's Class

2011-09-18T20:54:00.000-07:00

I was sitting in Sunday School when I noticed some remnants from the preceding Young Women's class still on the chalkboard:

1. Do not shank people

My heart filled with joy knowing that the youth of the Church are learning such valuable lessons.

Don't Forget About Me, Dad

2011-09-11T08:00:00.000-07:00

Paige is off to kindergarten. Curtis is going to preschool. This kid's still at home, drooling and being generally quite likeable.

Scissor Kicks and Such

2011-09-10T21:55:00.001-07:00

Only two kids on Curtis' soccer team scored goals on this, his inaugural game. Juan, who's five and at least a foot taller than all of the three year olds, scored about a dozen. The lone remaining goal was scored by little Curtis, who was as surprised as the rest of us to find himself right in front of the net when the ball bounced his way.

It was a successful first outing, despite a bit of apprehension on his part. He spent a lot of time being frozen where ever he stood, until his coach would lovingly say, "Curtis, go kick the ball." At which point, he would run and play and get knocked over (several times) and score a goal by accident. Then he'd go right back to standing until his coach prodded him on again. (After a while, I think he just liked the attention and I would catch him looking at his coach, just waiting for her to give him a little encouragement.)

Paige cheered for Curtis maniacally and unceasingly. He showed his affection in his customary way--he walked over to the sideline, punched her, and then went back to the game.

Good times were had by all.

Off to Preschool

2011-09-08T15:03:00.002-07:00

Poor second child. With all the worries about Paige heading off on the bus to kindergarten, we barely paid any attention to the fact that Curtis was starting preschool this week.

Fortunately, there was less to worry about, given that Curtis has gone to that classroom for the past two years to drop Paige off. Traci says he walked in today, put on his name tag, and headed straight for the toys. No time to worry about Mom's tears when there's stuff to be played with.

Curtis also made his soccer debut last night. I met Traci and the kids at the soccer field, where he was to meet his coach and get his uniform. When he hopped out of the van, I was happy to see that he was already in one of Paige's old uniforms and his flip-flops. The first thing he said to me was, "I need my cleats, dad!"

"Alright, buddy. We're just here to get your jersey, so I don't think you'll need them right now."

Turns out he did need them. After the uniforms were distributed, the team had a short practice.We got his cleats on and he ran off to become an athlete.

He did pretty good for his first time. Dribbling the ball around the cones must have been pretty exhausting, since about every 30 seconds he would run over to me and say, "I need some more water, dad."

He also got a little distracted when the coach paired the kids up to practice passing. Here was the scene.

Curtis is paying attention. Oh, wait. His partner Beckham is filling up a cone with grass clippings. Now Beckham kicks it. But here comes a firetruck, so now Curtis can't concentrate. Curtis kicks it to Beckham but Beckham is sitting on the ground. Teamwork.

School, sport. Lots of big changes for our little guy.

School: Day Two

2011-08-31T09:35:00.000-07:00

Sending Paige off to school was emotionally exhausting. But we did it!

But here's what's whack. She had to go back again the next day! School is hard for parents.

Again on day two, Traci followed the bus over to school, just to make sure Paige was safely navigating the system. Traci kind of lurked in the shadows while Paige played on the playground before the bell rang. When it was time for the kids to line up and go to class, Traci made her appearance known.

"What are you doing here, mom?" Paige asked, as if to say, "Why are you here when I can clearly do this on my own?"

So, Paige is surviving just fine.

I don't know that Curtis is doing as well. I think he's a little jealous.

When Paige came home from school yesterday he asked, "Paige, how many recesses did you have today?"

"Three. Like I always do."

"Ask me how many recesses I had," he prodded.

"How many?"

"A hundred."

The First Day of the Next Twelve Years

2011-08-25T20:45:00.000-07:00

There were a lot of tears this morning as Paige prepared to go off to kindergarten. Fortunately, none were shed by Paige. (Despite the overcast morning, Traci had to wear her sunglasses as we walked to the bus.)

She got on to the bus like a champ. I walked up the steps with her, led her to an open bench, and gave her a kiss. Just like that, she went away to ~~college~~ kindergarten.

Traci and the boys followed Paige to school to make sure she got from the bus to the classroom. There she learned that the kids are dumped off at the playground until the bell rings.

She looked around for Paige, but couldn't spot her anywhere. She finally found her by herself, hidden among the throngs of big kids.

"I don't know where I'm supposed to go, Mom."

Traci's heart was instantly broken.

Only to finally be repaired when the bus eventually came back with a very happy five-year-old.

"We had THREE recesses!"

While mom and dad spend conjuring up the infinite of number of things that could go wrong, Paige was having the best day ever. How you beat three recesses?

Last Day as a Pre-K

2011-08-24T09:00:00.001-07:00

Paige starts kindergarten tomorrow. In less than 24 hours, we will watch her ride off to school...on the bus...all alone.

She's excited. I'm the one who's having anxiety about it and waking up at 4:00 in the morning to feel sad.

Song of the Day: Streetlight Manifesto - One Foot on the Gas/One Foot in the Grave

2011-08-24T06:51:00.000-07:00

Just about every day, I look at the thousands of songs on my iPod and think, "I don't want to listen to any of you."

Scrolling through the tracks this morning, somehow it just felt like a Streetlight Manifesto day.

I'm a sucker for both singer Tomas Kalnoky's clean voice and his raspy punk rock screaming, both of which get a little time on this one. Streetlight Manifesto is probably the only band in punk rock history who actually pull off five-plus minute songs.

P.S. If you can handle a few (well-placed) swears, my favorite track on this album is The Receiving End of It All.

The Great Nature Experiment Continues On

2011-08-23T08:30:00.000-07:00

Last year, I decided it was time to finally start enjoying the beauty of Utah. Yes, nature. Summer is almost over and we hadn't added to our hiking legacy. Until last night.

Again accompanied by my tour-guiding sister, we went up to Silver Lake at Brighton. Not really a hike, but perfect for a family with a little guy in a papoose.

The kids had a great time chasing the squirrels around, and the mosquitoes had a great time sucking our blood.

Sometimes I Read Books

2011-08-21T08:10:00.000-07:00

I just finished Tina Fey's Bossypants. It was a quick, enjoyable read. Much like 30 Rock beyond season two, it often made me smile but never laugh out loud.

I took the book to the ranch with me last weekend. My two nine-year-old nephews looked at the cover and were highly amused.

"That girl's got man arms."

"That's weird! That girl is a man!"

"Wow. Her arms are sooo big."

In other literary news, Traci recommended I read the The Hunger Games years ago. I finally got around to it, and knocked out the entire trilogy in a couple of weeks. I really enjoyed all three of them.

But you don't have to take my word for it...

Weezer v. Kermit the Frog

2011-08-19T21:52:00.001-07:00

It didn't surprise me at all to see Weezer contributing a song to the upcoming Muppets movie soundtrack--it is called "The Green Album," after all.

I didn't, however, expect to see Alkaline Trio on the track list. Alas, the band who is usually inspired by death (and sometimes thinks I'm their stripper), offers up "Movin' Right Along." I was a little less surprised when I realized bassist Dan Andriano was doing the singing. He's always been a softy. He also has a new solo record out. It's pretty good. You can hear a couple of the songs on his Facebook page.

NPR is streaming the Green Album here.

Chubbin' Right Up

2011-08-19T06:56:00.000-07:00

Tate is now four months old. He's still a skinny little dude, but he's starting to get a little bit of meat on his bones. He rolled over for the first time on Sunday. This was likely motivated by a desire to escape his evil siblings.

Are We There Yet?

2011-08-18T07:32:00.000-07:00

Our kids love to go on vacation. But like all kids, they always forget that it takes time to get from our house to said vacation.

On our last trip to the ranch, Paige was asking "when will we get to the mountains" about 10 seconds after we pulled out of our driveway. When we got to the mouth of Parley's Canyon, I thought I'd point out that we had at least reached a change in scenery. "Paige," I said, "Do you see where we are?"

"Yes," she said excitedly. "Center lane rumble strip."

Nothing gets by our little reader.

Tate's First Baseball Game

2011-08-17T22:30:00.000-07:00

We finally made it to our first Bees game of the season. Surprisingly, it went better than I could have hoped for. Not only were we able to avoid standing in line for 45 minutes to ride the litte train from left field to right, but I actually got to watch a pretty good chunk of the game.

Somehow the kids stayed entertained. About every two seconds, Curtis asked me who was winning and Paige would see the batter's name on the jumbotron and then look up his picture in the program. (Next time, I'll teach her how to keep her own score card. That'll keep her busy.)

It was the bottom of the fifth inning before Paige decided she needed to sit on my lap, which of course made Curtis want to sit on my lap. Paige got off my lap and sat in Curtis' now-unoccupied seat, which caused him to yell at her, which made her grab him, which made him kick her in the face. (It felt like Sacrament meeting, but I was holding a hotdog instead of baggie of fishy crackers.)

All the while, Tate blew happy spit bubbles.

Couldn't ask for more.

Song of the Day: David Bazan - Won't Let Go

2011-08-16T07:34:00.004-07:00

For much of his Pedro the Lion career, David Bazan used third person narrative for his tales of disception and infidelity. On his first solo full-length, he switched to first person and the songs were about losing his faith, becoming an alcoholic, and generally letting his wife and family down. Maybe that's why this love song to his wife feels so gripping.

I Hate Every Chimp I See, From Chimpan-A to Chimpan-Z

2011-08-15T08:09:00.002-07:00

Though I have no intention of seeing the new Planet of the Apes movie, I am happy that it allows me to think about the Simpsons version of the story. (Thanks to Tim Gill for sending.)

Man, I miss that Troy McClure.

The Sutherlands Go Country

2011-08-14T12:22:00.001-07:00

Best seat in the house.

It's nice when your little buddy's got your back.

Fisherman Tate

We stopped by the Summit County parade in Coalville yesterday on our way up to our ranch. As we were listening to the country music playing over the PA speakers, I thought about what it would be like to live in a small town.

With his love of construction machinery and John Deere tractors, Curtis would be just fine. But what about Paige? With her catalog of knowledge about Daft Punk and Matt & Kim and her editorial opinions on the superiority of Weezer's Green Album over the more widely accepted Blue Album?

Sure, Traci could work at the local library. But what about me? I would only bring comedy, as the locals would likely be mildly amused (at first) by my utter lack of handyman-ery.

No, Coalville is not ready for the Sutherlands.

Might I Recommend: The One AM Radio

2011-08-13T06:30:00.000-07:00

If you like midtempo, melancholy electronica (a la Hot Chip, Postal Service), you should probably give The One AM Radio a listen.

I interviewed the band a couple of week's ago. I got some of the most intelligent music-guy answers in recent memory. I guess the lead singer's Yale education paid off. You can read the full article here.

I love the slightly snarky response to this simplistic question:

ME: Is it a happy album?

HIRWAY: No, it’s not a happy album, but “happiness” and “sadness” rarely ever come to me in pure form. That’s one of the side effects of no longer being a teenager.

---

You may want to check out these tunes as well:

When You're Sleeping (YouTube)
Everyone But You (YouTube)

A Boy Named Goo

2011-08-12T16:09:00.000-07:00

Have I ever revealed that I'm a closet Goo Goo Dolls fan? Well, now it's out there. If all goes well, I'm going to force Traci to go with me to watch them play under the stars at Deer Valley next week.

I interviewed Goo Goo bassist Robby Takac a couple of weeks ago. We talked a bit about Blink-182, the Rolling Stones, and the awkwardness of hearing your own song playing at the grocery store. You can check the story out here.

The Seven Degrees of Kirsten Dunst: My Connection to the Stars

2011-08-10T10:04:00.001-07:00

It all started with the ESPYs. Justin Timberlake, who Traci looooves, handed Jimmer Fredette the award for Male College Athlete of the Year.

"I'm friends with Jimmer's sister and Jimmer's meeting Justin Timberlake," Traci exclaimed. "That's like two degrees of separation!"

Hmm. That got me thinking (all the way through Sunday School and halfway through Elders Quorum). How far removed am I from my favorite folks?

(I'm sure I could have gotten to some of these people a bit more directly, but I only have so much mental RAM on Sundays.)

John Elway

I met Steve Young at a seminary fireside in high school. (I also fluffed a dozen LoveSacs at his Park City cabin.)
Steve Young's San Francisco 49ers defeated John Elway's Broncos in Super Bowl XXIV (a fact that still saddens me).

The Beatles

I worked for Shawn Nelson at the LoveSac Corporation
He won a million bucks on Richard Branson's TV show "Rebel Billionaire"
Branson was knighted by the Queen of England,
Who knighted Paul McCartney,
Who was a Beatle

Michael Jackson

I interviewed Deron Williams for Utah Business Magazine
He and the Jazz always get beat by the Lakers and Kobe Bryant,
Who dunked on Michael Jordan in 1997,
Who was in the video for Michael Jackson's "Jam"

Kurt Cobain

I met Dave Grohl after the first ever Foo Fighters show in Salt Lake
Dave was, of course, the drummer of a little band called Nirvana

Kylie Minogue

I interview Anthony Wiggle of The Wiggles,
Who featured Kylie Minogue on their hit single "The Monkey Man" (Kyle was dubbed the Pink Wiggle)

Lauren Conrad

I've interviewed Alkaline Trio a few times
On one episode of The Hills, Audrina Patridge goes to the studio to watch the band record an album
Lauren Conrad shows up to the studio as well, but gets bored and decides to go get coffee with Lo.

Paris Hilton

My friend Chris Wilson played in Good Charlotte with those Madden twins
One of them dated Paris Hilton

Britney Spears

I interviewed Linkin Park recently,
Who was touring with the Prodigy,
Who was asked by Madonna to produce her record in the late '90s (they refused)
Madonna french kissed Britney Spears once

Barack Obama

Jon Hunstman came to Insurance a few years ago to celebrate our 25th anniversary
That made him want to move to China and work for Mr. Obama

Lady GaGa

I talked to Vanilla Ice on the phone a few years ago
He got all the royalties to "Ice, Ice Baby" shaken out of him by Suge Knight,
Who was Tupac's label owner,
Who was originally friends with Biggie Smalls,
Who was homies with Jay-Z,
Who's married to Beyonce,
Who recorded "Telephone" with Lady GaGa

Kirsten Dunst

I chatted with Death Cab drummer Jason McGerr the other day
He's in a band with Ben Gibbard,
Who married Zooey Deschanel,
Who was in Elf with Will Ferrell,
Who was in Megamind with Brad Pitt,
Who starred in Interview with a Vampire with Kirsten Dunst

Friday Morning Studio Session

2011-07-29T17:23:00.000-07:00

It was pretty much like this (and like that and like this and uh)

I spent the morning at the recording studio. But alas, I was not laying down fat tracks. Instead, I was listening intently as the talent (that's a fancy word for the lady with the nice voice) recorded such exciting voicemail intros as "For claims and appeals, press 1."

Working at insurance is very glamorous.

Album Reviews: Elway, Rural Alberta Advantage, One AM Radio

2011-07-28T12:14:00.001-07:00

I get choked up just thinking about this clip.

Elway
Delusions

I’ll admit it. The only reason I checked out this Colorado band was because they’re named after my favorite Denver Broncos quarterback. The fact that the band delivers a solid debut album is just an added bonus. The strength of “Delusions” rests in its looseness. Elway churns out barroom punk rock in the vein of Hot Water Music or early Alkaline Trio, propelled by gruff vocals and catchy hooks. Though the record walks a path littered with broken hearts, the gang-vocal “whoa-oh-ohs” give an undeniable hope that everything is going to be okay. “Delusions” may not be wildly inventive, but still makes a great first impression.

For fans of: Lawrence Arms, Gaslight Anthem
Rating: 3 of 4
Check out: Passing Days (YouTube)
(And don't forget to watch the magical moment of "The Drive" by John Elway himself, shown above.)

Rural Alberta Advantage
Departing

A good band name should give a hint of what kind of music you play (see Megadeth, Sonic Youth, Geto Boys). True to its name, Rural Alberta Advantage gives off an earthy feel, but not in a Fleet Foxes, we-are-the-forest kind of way. “Departing” sounds more like a Bob Dylan record-- if he were to hole up in a cabin to make a dance record. The album is driven by a palpable tension between the vocals and the music--a singer who sounds like he should be accompanied by a banjo and a jaw harp, but instead fronts a band where the drums jump on the upbeat, xylophones plink joyously, and synthesizers sneak around in the background. It should be a mess, but somehow it makes perfect sense.

For fans of: Fleet Foxes, AA Bondy
Rating: 3 of 4
Check out: Under the Knife (YouTube)

The One AM Radio
Heaven Is Attached by a Slender Thread

Analog synths. Horns. Handclaps. “Heaven Is Attached by a Slender Thread” has all the makings of a typical dance record. But The One AM Radio doesn’t really do typical. Despite the upbeat ingredients, band leader Hrishikesh Hirway drenches the collection in lyrical melancholy. Somehow, the sadness just can’t compete with the persistent bounce. The album’s best track, “Plans,” ricochets off the walls like The Postal Service and “In a City without Seasons” feels like it was and conceived on the beach at sunset. There are brief moments with the music matches the solemnity of the message (see “The Heat”) but for the most part, despite his frowny face, Hirway can’t keep his feet from dancing.

For fans of: Hot Chip, Styrofoam
Rating: 3.5 of 4
Check out: Plans (YouTube)

Simpsons of the Day: Mr. Burns on Ether

2011-07-22T19:12:00.000-07:00

Curtis Gets His First Tattoo

2011-07-21T19:11:00.000-07:00

(Or view the video here.)

Much like with any tattoo, he regretted it just minutes later.

Curtis: Three Year Old

2011-07-20T06:41:00.002-07:00

Paige: Five Years Old

2011-07-19T06:39:00.006-07:00

Tate: Three-and-a-Half Months

2011-07-18T21:35:00.003-07:00

Song of the Day: The Naked and Famous - Young Blood

2011-07-12T06:21:00.002-07:00

I'm a sucker for music that makes me feel like I am in high school, about to embark upon the most important night of my life.

This is ironic because in high school, the most important night of my life may have been the time Matt Slivka and I (the two un-muscle-i-est guys at MHS) decided to go to ShopKo and buy our first-ever wife beater tanktops and wear them around the SugarHouse Movies 9 on a cold January night.

How's that for a music video idea?

The Grilled Cheese Incident

2011-07-11T06:44:00.002-07:00

Curtis. Always mildly disgusting.

Curtis refuses to eat grilled cheese sandwiches. He will, however, eat "boy cheese sandwiches."

Me: Who wants a grilled cheese?

Curtis: I don't want a girl cheese. I want a boy cheese sandwich.

Luckily, the recipes are pretty similar (I just have to mix in a few more monster trucks and construction vehicles.

The Return of the Little Firecracker

2011-07-10T18:07:00.001-07:00

Curtis and Tate are almost exactly three years apart. Here's a little comparison of the two at three months old - wearing the same shirt and enjoying the 4th of July parade in Murray (the pics also serve as an evolution of Traci's little sister Makell).

Curtis is obviously a bit chunkier and I forget how red his hair was when we he was a little guy

Thankfully, Tate is more mellow than the other two have been.

The Rock 'n Roll Photo Pass: Demystified

2011-07-06T07:13:00.000-07:00

Two feet away from CAKE's John McCrea

One of the perks of being a barely-paid music critic is that I get to go to a lot of shows for free. When I work with a band's publicist on a concert preview, they usually ask if I want to be on "the list" for the show. When people think of the list, they immediately imagine Wayne and Garth hanging out backstage with Alice Cooper.

Alas, nay. (Though I did get to hang out on Streetlight Manifesto's bus once. Coolest. Experience. Ever.)

It just means that I show up at the venue and say to the ticket person or whoever, "I'm on the list." They find my name - on an actual list - and let me in without paying. While this sounds great, about every fourth time, my name hasn't really made it to the list, which results in no small amount of awkwardness, especially if I've brought a friend with me.

Sometimes I'm also offered a photo pass. If asked in advance, I say I don't need one. The reason is two fold:

I just have a crappy little point-and-shoot camera and I'd feel dumb standing up on the stage taking photos with it.
I have no idea what such a pass entitles me to. Do I go on stage? Do I poke around in front of the band? Do I hold my pass up (again, a la Wayne's World) and work my way to the front of the crowd?

So when I'm given a press pass at the door, I just stick it on my shirt (to look cool) and do nothing with it.

At the CAKE show a few weeks back, I was handed a pass. I decided to finally be a man and take some pictures. I bravely walked up to a security guy standing by the stage and said, "Where can I go with this photo pass?"

He looked blankly at me and shrugged his shoulders.

Eventually, another lady come up and said, "You can take pictures at the front of the stage for the first three songs."

So I did. I stood in front of the lounging-on-the-grass crowd at Red Butte garden and pretended like I knew what I was doing. Not looking like an idiot became more difficult once I was standing next to a photographer from SLUG magazine, who did know what he was doing. But I hung in there.

For about 90 seconds.

About halfway through the first song, I had taken a dozen or so pictures, which seemed like more than enough. I went back to seat, successfully having overcome my oh-so-life-threatening fear of photo passes. I am a changed man.

One of my photos is above. The SLUG guy's pics are here. I feel like I held my own.

Why I Am the Best Dad Ever, According to Paige

2011-07-05T17:50:00.001-07:00

"Because you reach down my toys when they're up high."

A Beautiful Mind, Anyone?

2011-07-04T18:02:00.000-07:00

This is what Paige has done to the walls in her room. At this point, it's adorable. If she starts seeing messages in the pictures, it will be frightening.

Very Much a Redhead

2011-07-01T21:29:00.000-07:00

And we still like him.

Paige's Day of Pentecost

2011-06-30T15:23:00.001-07:00

I've mentioned that Paige isn't always big on church. Maybe tonight was the turnaround.

In the parking lot at Lowe's [unprovoked]:

Paige: Parents are not the boss anymore. No parents of any families are the boss. There is only one boss over the whole world. And that's Jesus!

Testify, sister!

I have a feeling that this has less to do with any religious conviction than with the fact that she refuses to accept that Traci or I should be able to tell her what to do.

On Sunday she said to me, "Dad, YOU ARE NOT THE BOSS OF ME! I'm the boss because I'm the most beautiful one.

If she's already figure that out at age 5, what chance do I stand?

Death Cab for Cutie - Codes and Keys

2011-06-28T09:26:00.001-07:00

Death Cab for Cutie
Codes and Keys

Remember The OC? You know, with Marissa Cooper’s self-destructive tendencies and Ryan Atwood’s endless insecurities about growing up in Chino? And who could forget Seth Cohen, the lovable hipster with a passion for comic books and Death Cab for Cutie?

A lot has changed for Death Cab since they made an onscreen appearance on The OC, playing a gig at the show’s fictitious club, the Bait Shop, in 2005. Back then, Death Cab was a band who had earned a Seth Cohen-esque fan base by touring endless in a pre-MP3 Blog world. But they were also a band in transition--counting down the days to their major label debut and clearly on the verge of something much bigger.

If you ask me, 2003’s ”Transatlanticism” was the band’s high-water mark. The songwriting was miles beyond its LP predecessors, yet the endearing roughness remained, like Ben Gibbard’s warbly tenor or the fuzzed-out studio experimentation. Not to mention that it included two of the best songs in the band’s catalog--the title track and the heartbreaking “A Lack of Color.”

After such a strong release, fans were poised to disdain their first big budget release, “Plans.” But it didn’t happen. It couldn’t happen. The looseness of early records had disappeared, but the songwriting was stronger than ever before and the production was painstakingly perfect.

Given all of the effort to make “Plans” a masterpiece, it’s not surprising that 2008’s “Narrow Stairs” headed in the opposite direction. Filled with rock ‘n roll abandon, it was a guitar album, fueled by some of the darkest lyrics Gibbard has ever written.

In 2011, things feel a bit more sunny in the Death Cab camp. Gibbard is now a married man and alcohol-free. Their new record, “Codes and Keys,” is the most upbeat in years. Beats skip along wistfully, like a band in love (“You are a Tourist”). At times, it’s all the Gibbard can do to not start dancing (“Some Boys”). Even tracks that are less immediate (“Doors Wide Open,” “Unobstructed Views”) still deliver a rewarding punch.

Much like “Transatlanticism,” “Codes and Keys” strikes a beautiful balance between traditional arrangements and studio embellishment; it would not be surprising to hear these songs played on an a piano or an acoustic guitar, but the layers of synths and noise give the tracks an added depth.

Somewhere, the writers of The OC are huddled together, trying to figure out how to bring the show back to life, just so Seth Cohen can tell the world how much he likes this record.

For fans of: Modest Mouse, Franz Ferdinand
Rating: 3.5 of 4

This is Week in Film: Curtis Edition

2011-06-28T08:49:00.000-07:00

As usual, Curtis came home from the library yesterday with a stack of DVDs.

"Curtis, what movies did you get," I asked.

He stands at the top of the stairs and holds one DVD high above his head. It is impossible not to see the pride in his stance as he displays it.

I glance at the title, then read it aloud "Mighty Sanitation Machines?!"

"Garbage trucks," he replies.

The boy loves his garbage trucks.

This Week's Music, Fleet Foxes, The Naked and Famous, Reaganomics

2011-06-23T14:52:00.000-07:00

Fleet Foxes
Helplessness Blues

Though he’s only in his 20s, Fleet Foxes singer and leader Robin Pecknold is an old soul. His band’s sound echoes former times, channeling the folk of Simon and Garfunkel and paying homage to the intricate harmonies of the Beach Boys. While the group’s debut LP was an ode to the majesty of the forest and the sun, Pecknold turns inward on “Helplessness Blues.” His wanderings are filled with introspective questions, as he ponders both his youth (“Now I am older than my mother and father/When they had their daughter/Now what does that say about me?”) and his eventual death (“I woke up one morning/All my fingers rotten/I woke up a dying man without a chance”). The music matches the weightiness of the subject matter and every note is perfectly placed—lush harmonies, finger-picked guitar melodies, and Pecknold’s soaring tenor. Having successfully reached the top of the mountain, it’s hard to see where Fleet Foxes will go from here.

For fans of: Simon and Garfunkel, Bon Iver

Rating: 3.5 of 4
Check out: Montezuma

The Naked and Famous
Passive Me, Aggressive You

These New Zealand electro-rockers are a sneaky bunch. Their outstanding, ultra-dancey lead single “Punching in a Dream” would lead you to believe that the group is nothing more than a well-polished, hook-heavy pop group. While that would be enough, their debut record offers up even more. Dueling boy-girl vocalists Thom Powers and Alisa Xayalith are equally adept at getting dark and moody (“Frayed,” “The Sun”). And just when you think they might drown in their ‘80s goth-inspired angst, they come back with another dreamy bounce-along (“Young Blood”) that should become the soundtrack for every teenage soap opera. Here’s to a solid debut and plenty of unexpected surprises.

For fans of: the xx, Tegan and Sara

Rating: 3.5 of 4
Check out: Young Blood

Reaganomics
Lower the Bar

Metal-punk trio Ryan's Hope were trying to make a record when they decided to take a break from taking themselves so serious. They kicked the tempo up a few hundred beats per second and unleashed every junior high joke they could remember. The result is “Lower the Bar,” a record that is equal parts NoFX and stand-up comedy. Other than a few outliers, each song track clocks in at under 90 seconds. The band masterfully tackles pressing social such as programming on The WB, Ed Hardy t-shirts, and Robocop. The songs are catchy, slightly stupid, and perfect for the pit.

For fans of: NoFX, Rancid

Rating: 3 of 4
Check out: Don't Worry, We'll Play First

Tate, Lady Killer

2011-06-21T09:42:00.000-07:00

Either people in San Diego have never seen a baby (maybe), or Tate is, in fact, the cutest little guy in the world (probably).

Traci and Tate accompanied me to a work conference in San Diego last week, and Tate was all the rage. From the second we stepped in the airplane, the little guy was getting compliments left and right. Including, but not limited to, the stewardess staring lovingly at him while performing her safety spiel and then asking me if I'd needed her to burp him. Seriously.

After Curtis' meltdown on the plane ride home from Disneyland, I wasn't sure I would ever fly with one of our kids again. But Tate was a masterful traveler, quietly having a bottle on the way there and sleeping the entire flight back.

The idea behind taking Traci and Tate was to give Traci a little break from chasing around all three kids. Of course, the second we got in San Diego, all we could think about were the things we wanted to show Paige and Curtis. Oh, the guilt.

But those two couldn't have been happier with their time with each of the grandmas and all of the cousins. The morning after we got home, Curtis woke up and said, "Which grandma's are we going to today?"

Maybe we'll go on more vacations without them.

Enjoying the sun at the San Diego Zoo

Wrestling with the pillows

Zonked out while we ate Mexican food in Old Town

Things I Ate at Squatter's Tonight

2011-06-06T20:09:00.000-07:00

1. Chicken pizza
2. Beef sliders
3. Mini sausages
4. Pita and hummus
5. Ribs
6. Little taquitos
7. Blackberry tart

My digestive system may never forgive me. (But everything was so delicious.)

Review: Beastie Boys

2011-06-06T09:43:00.001-07:00

Beastie Boys
Hot Sauce Committee, Pt. 2

Did I miss something? Where did the “Hot Sauce Committee, Pt. 2” come from? I didn’t even know there was a Pt. 1.

It turns out the band played a fast one on me. (Or maybe a slow one.) The Beasties were planning on releasing a two-part “Hot Sauce” series until Adam Yauch was diagnosed with cancer in 2009. While he recovered, the New York City trio retooled the project, releasing it as just one disc. (You can find Pt. 1 as an import, but before you shell out the extra $20 bucks, you should know it’s almost exactly the same as Pt. 2.)

For most artist, a two-year delay would certainly kill a record. Not so for the Beastie Boys. Like all their records, “Hot Sauce” exists in a strange time warp, somewhere between 1985 and outerspace.

The Beastie Boys have never felt obliged to fit into a definable category. Over the past 25 years, the groups has done pretty much done whatever they’ve wanted. Obnoxious hip-hop (“License to Ill”)? Sure. An eight-song punk rock EP (“Aglio e Olio”) that clocks in at 11 minutes? Why not. An ‘80s throwback album (“To the 5 Boroughs”) followed by a an instrumental record (“The Mix-Up”). Of course.

While each of those records had a very specific flavor, “Hot Sauce” is more reminiscent of “Check Your Head,” when all those various styles got dropped in a blender. The record starts on a high note with the funky “Make Some Noise” and the robotic “Ok.” It gets even better when they make room for a rare guest appearance, inviting fellow New Yorker Nas to add some bite to the attacking “Too Many Rappers.”

While the trio have kept with the same rhyme patterns since their early days (who else can still get away with using lines like “Let me introduce myself, I’m Ad-Rock?”), their music never stays in the same place. “Say It” sounds like a cover of Onyx’s 1993 hit “Slam” and “Don’t Play No Game” finds the group on a tropical island with Santogold.

“Hot Sauce” is wildly uneven. Things get murky in the middle third (the fuzzy “Long Burn the Fire,” the warbly “Tadlock’s Glasses”) and there are a few misses (“Crazy A%% S*&%”). But that’s a small price to pay for a record that is willing to take risks without taking itself too seriously.

For fans of: Run-DMC, Rage Against the Machine
Rating: 3 of 4
Check out: Make Some Noise (Vevo)

Congraduation

2011-05-30T06:34:00.000-07:00

We went to Paige's preschool graduation yesterday, or "congraduation" as she calls it. The class offered up a stirring rendition of the Alphabet Song, and then an uber-jazzy take on Old MacDonald Had a Farm before receiving their well-deserved diplomas.

I couldn't help but feel a little emotional. I can't believe it's already been two years since we shipped Paige off to preschool--first to Miss Margaret's and then to the real deal.

Looking back through my blog archives, I was surprised that I didn't really say much about Paige going to school. We were so worried about it. Worried that she would be scared. Worried that she wouldn't fit in. Worried that she'd have a meltdown if the teacher or the other kids didn't do things exactly the way she wanted them to.

It turns out, preschool has been the best thing that could have happened to her. She's loved learning (and bossing the other kids around a bit) and singing and playing. It's made such a positive difference in her ability to be around new people and new things.

Her teacher has been so sweet with her. She's from eastern Europe and has a very thick accent. That's probably why Paige sometimes tells me she sat on the rug by Ree-chard or is going to play with Kait-leen.

But now preschool is over and it's time to start pre-worrying about kindergarten.

And the Band Has a Name

2011-05-29T07:00:00.002-07:00

The other day, we were having a little family band rehearsal. Curtis was manning the drums, I was on guitar, and Paige was handling vocal and keyboard duties. I love how Paige makes up lyrics as she sings, usually things like "I'm gonna keep on rockin'" and "oh yeah, oh yeah, alright" (she clearly already understands the fundamentals of rock 'n roll lyricism).

After we finished up, I asked her what the name of our band should be. Almost without hesitation, she said, "The Hammers."

Doesn't get any more rockin' than that.

Watch for our debut album in 2013.

The Vince Lombardi of Soccer

2011-05-28T07:26:00.002-07:00

I (substitute) coached my first soccer game this week. Was I the best coach to ever step foot on the pitch? I'll leave that to the sports historians. But I will say that Paige's first question to me was, "Why are you coaching my team tonight?"

There are probably a few different answers to that question:

Well, my dear, someone needs to bring this team back from a null-3 deficit to eventually tie the game, just as time expires.

Or the regular coach didn't show up and I was the only parent there who didn't have a gaggle of kids with him. (I just had one chubby 3-year-old that I held while I coached.)

Either way, I feel like I left the field with my legacy intact.

Silverstein Good. Sharks Better. Bazan Best.

2011-05-18T06:50:00.002-07:00

This week's reviews. Here's the Reader's Digest version.

Silverstein=Paint-my-numbers emo.Still good.

Sharks=Sounds like The Clash. Great if you like The Clash.

Bazan=A tough listen, but worth repeat listens.

David Bazan

Strange Negotiations

Over the past 15-plus years, David Bazan has spent his time praising God, then questioning his motives, and finally breaking up with Him entirely. On his first release since making the evangelical split official (see 2009’s “Curse Your Branches” ), Bazan faces the challenge of writing a record without the Big Guy. “Strange Negotiations” addresses the big question of “what’s next?” Not in terms of religion, but of what it takes to be a good human being. Instead of looking heavenward, Bazan dives deep into his own heart. He sings “I want to level with myself/I want to level with friends/I want to level with my kid/And be at peace with it.” While Bazan’s tongue remains silver, the music is much less polished. A darkness hangs over the record, which is uncharacteristically riff-heavy. Much like his Headphones side project, “Strange Negotiations” requires listener’s full attention and gets better with each listen.

For fans of: Death Cab for Cutie, Rocky Votolato

Rating: 3.5 of 4
Check out: Wolves At The Door (MP3, swear words)

Silverstein

Rescue

As emo bands go from having broken hearts to having a wife and kids, there is no shortage of growing pains. Some decide to get heavier, some get lighter, and most simply fall by the wayside. Scene stalwarts Silverstein have chosen to stay the course. On any given track of “Rescue,” the band screams up a lung, wields guitars as a blunt-force instrument, and dangles its heart from its sleeve. The band’s songwriting has certainly improved over their decade-long career, but more impressive is their ear for pacing. The record moves nicely between melodic rockers (“Intervention”), straightforward ballads (“Good Luck with Your Lives”), and ultra-heavy dirges (“The Artist”), without ever losing steam.

For fans of: Bayside, Taking Back Sunday

Rating: 3 of 4
Check out: Medication (YouTube)

Sharks

The Joys of Living 2008-2010

It’s comforting to know that 15 years after the demise of The Clash, the spirit of Joe Strummer is still alive and well. The Sharks, a four piece British outfit, follow The Clash’s model of mixing punk, reggae, and good ol’ fashioned rock ‘n roll. The band makes the sound their own not by musical innovation, but by sheer exuberance. The tunes jump out of the speakers and bounce off the walls, in hopes that someone out there would please just start a circle pit. A compilation of the band’s first three EPs, “The Joys of Living,” couldn’t be a better teaser for an eventual full-length debut .

For fans of: The Clash, Gaslight Anthem

Rating: 3 of 4
Check out: Three Houses (YouTube)

Eminem vs. the Deseret News

2011-05-17T12:15:00.001-07:00

Remember when I wrote that Eminem review that got the Internet all mad at me?At the time, I was freaking out a bit (in a good way) because that article had more than 2,500 views--which was like 10 times more than any other review I had done.

The other day, I wrote my first article for KSL.com, a quick little piece about upcoming shows in Salt Lake. Within a few hours, it had more than 4,000 views. Not because of angry Eminem fans, just because KSL is obviously a zillion times bigger than IN.

I'm happy for the exposure, but as far as I can tell, I may not get any money from my Zion-leaning friends. So this may be my first and last submission for KSL.

In the meantime, my Eminem review has reached nearly 15,000 views. I believe I was paid $10 for that one.

I'll be financially sound and ready to retire any day now.

Me. On TV.

2011-05-13T10:02:00.001-07:00

I showed up at work on Monday to find out I'd be doing a little TV interview with Big Budah. I called Traci to ask if she'd record it.

The clip aired live and the second it was over I got this text from Traci:

"Our kids are freaking out seeing you on TV right now. They love it."

But it wasn't all good. Apparently Paige was very bothered that she was talking to me on the TV, but I wasn't responding. (Rude of me, I know.)

When I got home, they were both very excited to tell me that they had seen me. They were also very interested in knowing how I got on TV. I really think Paige was expecting me to explain the science of video recording and satellite transmission and such, but she had to settle for my response of "I dunno. I just was."

Can't see the video? Here's the link.

This Week's Music: Screeching Weasel, Pains of Being Pure in Heart, Explosions in the Sky

2011-05-04T11:08:00.001-07:00

Screeching Weasel
First World Manifesto

After a 10-year hiatus, Ben Weasel and his band are out to prove they are just as punk as they were when they formed the band in 1986. The 43-year-old Weasel still sounds like he’s singing with his nose pinched closed as he spews sarcasm at his punk rock peers, ex-girlfriends, and young poseurs. The tales are tired and cliche, but with all of the three-chord bounce and high harmonies it’s hard to deny their catchiness. A dozen records into the catalog, “First World Manifesto” is far essential, but does serve as a reminder of why so many bands have been influenced by Mr. Weasel over the past 25 years.

For fans of: Teenage Bottlerocket, NoFX
Rating: 2.5 of 4

Check out: Frankengirl

Explosions in the Sky [Manifesto Approved]
Take Care, Take Care, Take Care

In the era of the highly-compressed MP3 single, Explosions in the Sky make absolutely no sense. The songs are long, winding, and completely void of vocals. The record clocks in at 45 minutes, with just six tracks. Fortunately, the same things that keep the band from fitting in also allow it to stand out. Over six records, the band has mastered the balance between the meandering, slow build (“Be Comfortable, Creature”) and cacophonous climax (“Last Known Surroundings”). “Take Care, Take Care, Take Care” should only be listened to one way--in its entirety, from start to finish.

For fans of: Letting Up Despite Great Heights, Caspian
Rating: 3.5 of 4

Check out: Last Known Surroundings

The Pains of Being Pure in Heart [Manifesto Approved]
Belong

The Pains of Being Pure in Heart have found plenty of inspiration in ‘90s shoegaze alterna-rock. So the choice of producer Flood and mixer Alan Moulder (the dudes that made bands like Smashing Pumpkins and Nine Inch Nails famous) makes perfect sense. Their influence is immediately apparent on the album opener, “Belong,” which is bathed in fuzzed-out guitars. The rest of the record, however, is more lighthearted, with hooks front and center and Kip Berman’s vocals always thin and dream-like. Both directions work well for the band, but “Belong” may have been even more interesting had the band explored more of a balance between the mega-fuzzy and the ultra-light.

For fans of: Temper Trap, the xx
Rating: 3.5 of 4
Check out: Belong

Tate, Lately

2011-05-03T15:32:00.001-07:00

This kiddo has already been with us for a month. (For Traci, one long, sleepless month.) Curtis continues to ignore him (probably the best case scenario) and Paige will likely love (nay, smother) him to death.

Here he is at two weeks:

This Week's Music: Face to Face, Does It Offend You, Yeah?, Telekinesis

2011-04-30T07:51:00.000-07:00

Not a bad bunch of records this week. Face to Face is a long time favorite. Their record is solid, not amazing. Both the Does It Offend You and Telekinesis albums are good, but not quite as memorable as their debuts.

Face to Face
Laugh Now, Laugh Later

Over the past 20 years, Face to Face front man Trever Keith hasn’t been afraid to experiment. There was the slowed-down “Ignorance is Bliss,” the nostalgic cover album “Standards & Practices,” and the nuanced solo record “Melancholics Anonymous.” But what Keith does best is write punk rock songs. After calling it quits in 2003, he recently decided it was time to get the band back together. The band picks right up where “How to Ruin Everything” left off. Following the signature Face to Face formula, the songs are both immediate--with machine gun drumming and lightning bass lines--and laid back, thanks to Keith’s behind-the-beat vocal delivery. Despite the musical detours throughout the years, “Laugh Now, Laugh Later” is right on track. On “I Don’t Mind and You Don’t Matter,” Keith sings, “I’ve come full circle/And I’m almost where I started from/In spite of all I’ve done.” That’s a good thing. This is where Keith belongs.

For fans of: Pennywise, Bad Religion
Rating: 3.5 of 4

Telekinesis
12 Desperate Straight Lines

In the studio, Telekinesis is one-man act Michael Benjamin Lerner. It’s not surprising that his upbeat tunes caught the attention of Death Cab for Cutie guitarist Chris Walla, as his tunes aren’t far removed from Death Cab’s early work. Walla has produced both Telekinesis records, allowing Lerner’s sense for hooks to stand front-and-center on both records. Though “12 Desperate Straight Lines” is deeply rooted in guitar-based indie rock, it wouldn’t be out of place in the ‘90s-college-rock bin, with the fuzzy bass lines and recorded-in-the garage feel. Many of the lyrics may be about heart break, but this is an album built for rejoicing.

For fans of: Death Cab for Cutie, Say Hi
Rating: 3.5 of 4

Does It Offend You, Yeah?
Don’t Say We Didn’t Warn You

The second record from British synth rockers Does It Offend You, Yeah? doesn’t vary much from their impressive 2008 debut. The band still vacillates between brash electronic riffs (“The Monkeys are Coming”) and straight-forward new wave throwbacks (“Pull Out My Insides”). What makes this band so interesting is their ability to occupy both spaces--often in the same track--without ever sounding disjointed. The most noticeable difference with the second record is the underlying haunted-funhouse feel, with spooky synth lines sneaking into nearly every track. Though slightly off-kilter, the sounds work perfectly for a band that doesn’t quite fit in.

For fans of: Pendulum, !!!
Rating: 3 of 4

Bend it Like....

2011-04-29T07:04:00.000-07:00

Dance class is over. Now it's soccer time. And it's serious. (This fact is made abundantly clear by Paige's intense goalie stance.)

Callin' Baton Rouge

2011-04-28T07:52:00.000-07:00

Though much of our attention has been on Tate lately, things haven't slowed down with the other two terrors. Paige just had her second dance recital. This time, things got a little bit country.

For those with 1:45 on their hands, here's a clip from the big performance.

Beautiful Boy

2011-04-27T07:26:00.000-07:00

More photos from Tate's first fashion shoot (and second day on Earth).

Pick Your Poison

2011-04-26T20:16:00.002-07:00

For 20 years, I have struggled with a question for the ages. Which "Poison" is better? Alice Cooper's ode to the evil woman, or the Bel Biv Devoe tune that gives the best advice ever put to music ("Never trust a big butt and a smile")?

On an unrelated Alice Cooper note, if you type "Alice Cooper" into the Google toolbar, it wants to auto-fill with "Alice Cooper Mormon." That takes you to Celebrities Rumored to be Mormon.

About Cooper:

His father's name was Ether Moroni Furnier. Jay Evenson, who is the Deseret News' editorial page editor and teaches an opinion writing class at BYU, interviewed him once. His family belonged to an offshoot of the LDS Church, but his father was later ordained a minister in the Baptist church.

(The site also reveals the genesis of "Steve Martin is a Mormon.")

When a Blockbuster Video Dies

2011-04-21T21:34:00.001-07:00

A weird blanket and socks store is born. Everyday as I drive by, I see
all of the blankets that would perfectly complement our decor. But
which should I choose? The N.W.A. or the Dr. Dre? What am I saying? I
need something the whole family can enjoy. I'll go with the Tupac.
That'll keep us warm at night.

Drie Jaar Oud

2011-04-20T14:17:00.001-07:00

Three years of this kid. We still [mostly] like him. Happy birthday to the kid born on 4/20 (also Hitler's birthday).

Invoking Snoopy power

Feels like I'm looking at a picture of Tate

This Week's Music: Yellowcard, The Strokes, Smoking Popes

2011-04-20T12:41:00.002-07:00

Yellowcard
When You're Through Thinking, Say Yes

Of all the Blink-182-inspired acts of the early 2000s, Yellowcard made the biggest splash. In less than a decade, the band has experienced both huge commercial success and the stresses that led to a two-year hiatus. On their fifth full-length, Yellowcard sounds renewed. They've ratcheted up the tempo and pushed Sean Mackin's violin back into the forefront. Though this is a clearly a nod to the band's early sound (it's hard not to think that Ryan Key is singing to longtime fans when he says, "Let me back in/Love me again" on the opening track), it doesn't feel like they're pandering to the past. Instead, "Say Yes" shows the band is continuing to hone its craft without losing track of its strengths.

For fans of: Blink-182, Fall Out Boy
Rating: 3 of 4

The Strokes
Angles

Before making "Angles," The Strokes had been broken up almost as long as they had been together. With the band members each filling the past five years with different projects, it's not surprising that "Angles" is all over the musical map. "Machu Picchu" dips into reggae, "You're So Right" is cold and robotic, and "Games" is filled with dreamy synths. Everything here is delivered with precision, from the live drums that sound like a drum machine to the guitars that sound like keyboards; only Julian Casablanca's sleepy and often-distorted vocals eschew the glossy production. Despite the strong execution, the tunes lack the emotional pull of the band's early records. The parts are all there, but somehow the whole is missing.

For fans of: Arctic Monkeys, Interpol
Rating: 3 of 4

Smoking Popes
Wish We Were

Not many 40-year-old singers can deliver lines like "I don't want to go college/I don't wanna be another puppet of the man" without sounding like an idiot. But Josh Caterer is no average singer. Since the early '90s, he's found a way to mix punk rock with Sinantra-style crooning. He uses "Wish We Were" to relive his teenage years--chasing unrequited love ("Wish You Were"), mortgaging his future ("College"), and sleeping on stranger's floors ("Punk Band"). Even though the record is a tongue-in-cheek look at high school drama (the vocals on "Diary of a Teen Tragedy" are straight out of "The Wonder Years"), the songs are seriously catchy. I can't stop singing "I want to come out to the show with you tonight/But I've got mono, I've got mono."

For fans of: Green Day, The Ramones
Rating: 3 of 4

Radio Flyer

2011-04-19T22:20:00.000-07:00

I pulled Curtis around the neighborhood in the wagon yesterday. Paige decided to stay home. I couldn't believe how quiet it was without her. Just the day before, I had to have this conversation with her in the wagon--completely unprovoked.

PAIGE: I don't ever want to live on Neptune. It's waaay too cold there. I would freeze to death!

ME: Why do you know that? Where did you learn about Neptune?

PAIGE: And I don't want to live on Mercury because it's too hot and I would boil up.

ME: Who teaches you these things? [It's clearly not me, because I do not know these things.]

PAIGE: I only want to live on Earth. My favorite country is Australia because kangaroos live there and so do The Wiggles.

Curtis just sat quietly in the wagon. Wonderfully quiet.

Naming Convention

2011-04-18T07:23:00.000-07:00

As usual, we went to the hospital without a name for this kid. We had a shortlist, but while we were in the delivery room, we quickly realized that we didn't have them ranked in the same order.

It drives hospital folk crazy when you don't have a name. The nurses want to write the name on the whiteboard and on the tag on the bassinet. The doctor wants to call the kid by name to coax him out of the womb. And the person that's most worried about it is the lady who hassles you every five seconds to fill out the birth certificate forms.

We officially decided to call him Tate the night before we left the hospital. So that everyone could the announcement at once, I sent a text to all of our family members. Because I know that the entire concept of text messages enrages my mother, I called her directly as well.

My dad answered the phone. Before I could even ask if they had seen the text, he told me that he and Paige had decided on a name. Max. This didn't surprise me, as Paige had been calling the kid Max for months.

"Well, about that. I'm calling to see if you got my text. His name is going to be Tate."

"Tate? Paige, your little brother is going to be called Tate."

Through the phone, I could hear her disappointment.

When I picked the kids up from my parents', we had a have a long talk about it.

"He's not Tate, he's Max," Paige began.

"What if we called him Max as a nickname?" I countered.

"No, let's call him Max and Tate can be his nickname." I could already tell I was losing.

"How 'bout you call him Max and mom and I will call him Tate."

"Daaad, grown-ups don't get to choose the name. The oldest kid gets to choose the name because kids love the baby the most."

We finally found a compromise. She could call him Max and even make him a Mii avatar named Max. (Everyone in Paige's life has a Mii--from her cousins to Alvin and the Chipmunks. We just found out that the Wii can only hold 100 Miis. Paige reached the limit.) We immediately went in the house and created the Max Mii.

Apparently, all she needed was to sleep on it. The first thing she said to me in the morning was, "Dad, I think I'm going to call little brother Tate, too."

And that was that. He's Tate.

The Process of Belief

2011-04-17T09:32:00.000-07:00

As I've said before, when I started writing for IN, I had a short list of bands I wanted to interview. Bad Religion was near the top. My first chance to talk to them came in advance of the Warped Tour in 2009. Of course, I had hoped to get singer (and book writer) Greg Graffin. Instead, I got the only guy in the band I didn't want to talk to, drummer Brooks Wackerman. Not only is he the new guy (he joined the band back in 2000), but his former side project, Hot Potty, was possibly the worst band I'd ever seen live.

As it turned out, Brooks was great to talk to. So good, in fact, that I take back all the bad things I have said about him in the past.

Goodwill aside, I was pretty excited when I heard that was going to get to talk to founding member, bassist Jay Bentley this time around. Jay is the big, smiling face of the band. On the phone, he was just as charismatic and full of laughter as I had hoped.

I asked him the usual questions about band longevity, influences, etc. But I really wanted to ask him about faith.

Bad Religion was formed by a bunch of high school kids in the Reagan era. They chose the band name (and the "cross busters" logo) as a response to the televangelism of the '80s, and of course, to piss people off. It would seem, though, that as they grew up, their black and white anti-religion sentiment would become more gray. Alas, nay. It is is still a constant lyrical topic for Graffin and the whole thesis of his book hinges on the lack of God.

I wanted to see if that stance was shared by the rest of the guys. I didn't get a real straight answer but I did enjoy these two responses:

It’s been a long time since you guys decided to call yourselves Bad Religion. What would happen if you walked into the room today and said, “Hey guys, I’m a born again Christian! I converted last night.”

[Big laugh] There is no hard/fast rule about anything. I’m sure if [guitarist] Brian [Baker] came in and said, ‘Guys, I’ve never told you, but I’m a Republican,’ we’d all have a laugh, point fingers, giggle, and get back to work.

There’s one thing about this band that I can honestly say that we’ve learned--each and every member has their own individual ideas and purposes. We’re not a team, not a unit, not a gang. We don’t all wear the same clothes and we don’t fly a flag. We are all separate people who have learned to make room for all of our ideologies.

There is more faith in this band than you might know. It has never been a problem. It is something we always talk about--how can you have this type of belief--those are the long discussions we have on 10 hour drives. There’s room for everybody here.

Are there a lot of religious Bad Religion fans out there?

I’ve met more people than you can imagine--whether they are parents or kids--who have a faith or an organized religion that they belong to. One of the things that we’ve always said is, ‘There’s nothing wrong with religion, it’s what people do with it.’ When it seems selfish or egocentric, that’s when there’s a problem.

Everyone deserves to be happy. And whatever makes people happy is completely awesome. But there seems to be people in the world who can’t leave well enough alone, [and say] ”I’m happy, but I need more. I want others to believe what I believe and if they don’t, they’re automatically considered an enemy.” I can’t agree with philosophy ever.

Good conversation, good interview. I'm bummed I wasn't able to make the show.

Read the full article here.

Happy to be Home

2011-04-17T07:40:00.000-07:00

Despite the constant chaos, Tate seems pretty content with his home.

So You Were Born, and That Was a Good Day

2011-04-16T16:54:00.000-07:00

It's already been a week since Tate came home from the hospital. Having a new little one in the house doesn't exactly create tons of free time, so I excuse myself for not having written before now (though I still feel a bit guilty). So let's start with the most important part. The pictures.

Fresh out of the oven

Shirt fits like a glove

The eyes eventually opened

First day home, rockin' the guitar jammies

Hooligans

2011-04-14T10:26:00.000-07:00

Behind that megaphone is a pretty cute girl

Paige and I went to the Real Salt Lake game tonight. She was a total super fan, cheering into her RSL megaphone for all 90 minutes.

At one point she was shouting, "Defense! Defense!" and then she turned to me and asked, "What's defense?"