Super Tuesday

Please don't vote for John McCain. I won't tell you to vote for someone in particular...but how about anyone else. I can't stand him. To me, he is everything that is wrong with Washington and our Government. And he's old and crotchety and a douche and I hate him.

Provo River Rafting - May 2005

This is how the Provo River usually looks.

This is how we ride the Provo River.

This is some home video that was finally put to music and edited for everone's enjoyment. The final part of the video was filmed near the Bonneville movie studio, near the Taco Time, and Movies 8 and just up river from Bon Losee. See Map

Shot at the end of May 2005, this rafting expedition was during the maximum flood stages for winter run off. The river was running fast that day. She almost took our lives. We came upon a bridge that wasn't seen on the initial scouting report. The water a swelled up and there was only about a foot of clearance. We weren't going to make it under. We aimed for the shore but she was moving too quickly. We got hold of some branches and tried to pull our way through the thick branches and debris. The rivers fury was too much and flipped the raft over. I ended up underneath the raft which floated upside-down under the bridge. I tried to get out from under the raft but my life jacket wouldn't allow me to get under the raft. I was too bouyant. After struggling to get free I was rescued by Dave Beck, Mark Dalecki, and Scott. They were able to catch up to the raft and flip it over. We lost 2 oars but escaped with our lives.

Awesome Video

If I knew how to embed this on my blog I would because it is the funniest thing I have seen in a really long time.

CLICK HERE and get ready to laugh.

Blastin the Glocks

In early November I went out with a group of friends camping near Payson. It was there that we ate bountifully, shot thousands of rounds, rode quads, and sat around a campfire and told stories. It was a lot of fun.

Also I just found these pictures on flickr, linked my blog and posted it directly from Flickr to my blog. If it seems random it is because I am experimenting with new techmology...to me anyways. And certain people have complained "you don't post enough pictures." or maybe it was, "I hate blogs that don't have pictures." Either way I listen and can take advice, just one more thing that makes me awesome.

Its Back...O Holy Crap!

I had to bring this one back (again) for the holidays. It is the best worst sung version of O Holy Night. Honestly it is so bad you have to wonder how this guy didn't explode. Take 4 minutes...please. You'll have a smile on your face and you'll feel better in a weird way.

CLICK HERE

Poem of the Week - Part 7

This one goes out to Miss Mason. She is a classy lady who I am quite fond of. **Note: this is a different Brooke than the post about A Crooked and Babbling Brooke. Here is the story.

Back in the day I met Brooke through a mutual friend. We became friends and I had this thing for her. Here was my problem. She had this other roommate that I also found attractive. So I tried to figure out if I had a chance with either of them. In doing so I was able to alienate both.

I wanted to make out with the other girl because she had that draw. She did something to my loins…I think they yearned for her. Brooke on the other hand, equally attractive, desirable...and a definite yearning, but is the kind of girl you don’t just roll and bone out. You hang onto her because she is smart, classy; she’s got this smile that makes your eyes think they have been resurrected and able to see heavenly things. I can’t get enough of it. I could probably just stare at her face all day. Her eyes are like gold and milk chocolate had a baby. She’s got long dark hair that Pantene commercials brag about.

So there I am…torn. Loins vs. Commitment and Meaning. So it was hard for me to decide what I wanted. You know that old, have your cake and eat it too, adage? Well, I would have liked both and I guess I made that too obvious because as I said, I didn’t get to enjoy either of them.

A lyric comes to mind now as I reflect on that attempt. It is a song called Dirty Mouth, from a Utah band that I really like called The Devil Whale. “I never made my intentions clear/I held them all in.” I don’t know if I ever did a good job at telling her how I felt. I saw her this past weekend when I visited Utah and I could have slapped myself. I told her I would make my next post about her because I had a poem about her. This poem in its original form ended up on her door one night randomly. I don’t know if I signed it or if she ever got it. So here you go Brooke. So here are my intentions, clearly. I don't know if they have changed all that much. I'd still date her til she loved me or couldn't stand me.

Miss Mason

If you were on the phone
I’d say I’ve been acting dumb
Wanting to be with you
But never being with you
I want to kiss you
I’ve cried because I’ve missed you
Now I think I have lost you
And it’s causing me to pause and see
What you really meant to me
I looked at you and Brooke it’s true
Every time you spoke to me
I wanted to be
The guy that you’d decide
To stand by through hard times
I wanted to be there for you
If you had a bad day at school
I wanted you to call me from the ticket booth
And tell me how your day has been
I wanted to be there
When things were good
And if things went bad
Or if you got mad
I wanted to be there
To make you laugh
So hard you’d cry
And you’d forget why
You were mad in the first place
This is why I’ve been acting strange
This is why I feel insane
And why I say the things I say
I’m secretly, madly in love with you
And you don’t know
And I can’t tell you
I’m scared that you’ll hate me
Not want to see me
Or come near me
So I go on hurting inside
But outside I’m fine

Poem of the Week #6

Desert Lands

This truely is a desert.
Abandoned. Deserted. Desolate. Barren.
Its not easy to live, to exist.
Yet despite knowing this, I journey in.
I do not resist.
With cantene depleating
And no thoughts of retreating,
only humbling feelings.
I'm not the explorer I dreamed I'd be.
A fleeting dream of succeeding immediately.
Its hard. Its hard to Be.
The oasis I need is avoiding me.
In some time I'll find one.
Until then I will ration my supplies
and try to last through the desert skies.
The seemingly endless sand.
Cold bitter nights.
Scorching sun and relentless heat.
Though I'm facing defeat,
I cannot retreat,
choosing instead to rise to my feet.
That one day release from this tedious feat will be my prize.

This poem seemed fitting because I am out of a job and looking for a new one. A new job is what brought me to Arizona in the first place and that is what this poem is about. So if you hear of anything, anywhere, in the marketing field or something you think I'd be good at, give me a holler.

I moved to Arizona in January of 2006. I was starting a new life, and a new job; I didn’t know anyone. I went to my ward the first Sunday and was flabbergasted. I got there a few minutes early and chose a seat in the overflow section between the chapel and the gym, right in the middle of the row. Suddenly, they open the accordion door and unveil that the gym is full of chairs as well. People filled the chapel, the overflow, the gym. There were nearly 500 people at church and I didn’t know a soul.

My plan was to be outgoing and the fun new guy. But I was intimidated. They read like 15 names of the new people and I felt lost in a crowd. My plans weren’t as easy as I had uh…planned.

A few weeks of living in Arizona and I scribbled this poem down on the back of a program. It was a tough adjustment. Making new guy friends is especially tough. You wouldn’t think so but it is. I’ll tell you about it later.

Halloween Dicotemy

So I had this great costume that was totally inappropriate for church sponsored events so I went back to a costume bestowed upon me by the good graces of Dave Beck. He served an LDS mission in the Baltic States (former USSR) and brought home a little memorabilia for me from the cold war. I played the part well and had trouble breaking character. I have a surprisingly good Russian accent.

My original costume is super funny and I wore it to non-church related events. It is based on a skit done on SNL with Justin Timberlake. It won an Emmy. Here is the link to the video. I did a fine job, I think. Sure it’s a bit provocative and inappropriate but it is funny! The box is fully functional but I just put some candy in there so people would have something to grab when I got them to step 3. (Watch the video)

Please spare me the lectures because it is far too late to do anything about it. The past has passed.

Poem of the Week #5

You said.

Ok the details on this one are fuzzy. I won’t name names. Let me put it this way. This is for people that say they want to be friends but never return the favor. I’m not the type of person that gives of myself freely, just to give of myself. Call it selfish, or call me a bad friend, call it what you want but honestly, if there isn’t equilibrium or reciprocity in a relationship what is the point? I enjoy balance. I am punctual. If I tell someone I am going to call at 7, I do it. I expect the same courtesy. It’s not too much to ask.

I am insecure in some relationships. Maybe I am more sensitive to this type of thing in because I don’t know where I stand. Notwithstanding that, if you are telling me you are my friend, my real friend, you better be that. Don’t tell me something just because you think it is what I want to hear. I don’t need a friend that doesn’t mean it.

You said you’d call me
But you didn’t remember me once yesterday
It makes me think and wonder if you even care at all
Please don’t lead me on
Please don’t make me believe, what really isn’t there.
Don’t say what you don’t mean
Just to please me
You are better than that
And so am I
I can’t understand I don’t know if I want to
Thank you for everything you haven’t done for me recently
I have gone out of my way to be there
You haven’t at all
You leave me
What am I supposed to think?
What am I supposed to do?
I am so lost when it comes to you
I want to call or text
But I won’t
You said you’d call
So I’ll wait to see if you ever come through
What will I say?
She knows how I feel
You know how I feel
I told you
And look where it left me!

Austrailian Pink Floyd

I went to the above mentioned concert on Tuesday with Robb MacDonald. He's the one who got me into Pink Floyd back in the day. I had one of those moments where you hear a song and you remember everything about it. We were working on his Eagle Project collecting "books for the barrios." Driving around in the clan van as it was called on a cloudy, probably fall Saturday; Robb was playing a tape of a mix of Floyd songs. One side was a bunch on songs from The Final Cut, an obscure, lesser known album of Floyd's. I remember hearing these songs and connecting with the passion and soul with which the music was played and sung. I could tell that the guy who wrote it really meant it. I had Robb make me some tapes...maybe it was CD's but I think they were still tapes at this point in life.

The show we went to was really awesome. Any fan of Pink Floyd would enjoy this concert. They sound and play nearly identical to the original versions of the songs. The stage set up, video, and effects are all replications of an actual Floyd show. I was happy I went.

Poem of the Week #4

Yes, I know…I missed last week. So I decided to bring it back with a vengeance! Tragically long, pathetically awesome, insignificantly human. Huh?

Here is the ebb and flow of how it comes out of me when I am going through it. I will give it you in order of how it went down during this attempt.

Her name was Michelle. At first I didn’t think she was anything special but the more I looked at her and talked with her the more I liked her. She was on the UVSC Dance team. That really is only important because of what happened.

Ok…so I like this girl. As I said, she had grown on me quite a bit and I developed this thing for her. It was a crush. I won’t call it anything more or less than that. It was a crush. I pursued it as such.

I wrote this poem at the onset of what was happening. I was torn because I liked her but she was only 18 and I was 24…younger than my younger sister…I vowed to never date an 18 year old because I found that between 18-20 girls grow up a lot…most of them anyways. That is not to say that getting into a relationship at 18 is a bad thing. It worked for my little sister Krista. She just had her 2nd baby a couple weeks ago. Happily married for 4 years.

Back to the story. Didn’t really know what I was getting into. I knew I was starting to like her but she was mostly a mystery to me. That is when I wrote Empty Shells. It was a play on words obviously, her name Michelle, and the ideas of not having established any sort of real relationship yet.

As time progresses, maybe a week or so, I was torn. I wanted something to happen but I didn’t want to get involved. My feeling is that I don’t want to take away that opportunity for them to mature and grow…I guess I could be a notch on their belt…probably wouldn’t mind.

I wrote Crushed. One of the last lines in there, “relationships aren't found, they're made." That's what she told me once in relation to some other topic but I took it to heart.

Then I took it a step closer/deeper. My buddy Spencer was digging on this other girl on the dance team and he was a little more bout it than I was. He convinced me, though it didn’t take much, to go to the National Championships in Daytona Beach Florida. It was a big surprise. We fly down secretly, and just show up before their first performance and start cheering like crazy. They were all totally floored. It was pretty awesome.

The trip was a lot of fun but didn’t get any real vibes from her despite my travels. Spencer and I talked about it and on the flight home and I wrote Forever Away. It was inspired by a time when her and a couple of friends came over to our ballin hotel room and hung out of a few hours. We were there on my bed chit chatting and eventually I think the girls fell asleep. She was right there next to me and I couldn’t make the connection.

A couple of weeks later, after a couple dates, I invited her and her friend that Spencer was interested in up to my cabin in Park City and cooked them an amazing Birthday meal. I don’t know what I made besides steak but if you’ve ever had a steak of mine…well, who really needs anything else. For those haters and skeptics, I had gotten permission from my parents to have ladies up there unsupervised. It was a trust thing because when I first asked they met me with extreme caution and said no way. I told them that if I was going to be having sex with chicks up at the cabin (which I think was their main concern) I wasn’t going to call them and ask permission to have them up there. I would just go and do it. Also the fact that I wasn’t inviting just one girl up but two was probably comforting. There’s safety in numbers or something. Sure, I have skills, major skills, and that is why I wrote Game. That’s not part of this story. Consider it a bonus.

So yeah, a couple of weeks later I get on a plane to fly to New Hampshire to visit my sister Brittany and my parents who were out there at the time. I get on the plane and I have this crazy feeling inside me. I didn’t like it, very unsettling. I felt like I had something to lose, something I wanted to stick around for. I wrote Fear and Trembling before take off.

Then, while I was up in the garage/loft/fly fishing design center/Cottage Road Designs central I wrote 5/28/05 9:39pm Eastern. Obviously the time I wrote the poem. A prophetic vision into what was about to happen up my return.

I got home and figured it all out. It was exactly as I had written. This wasn’t self-fulfilling prophecy; my actions or lack thereof didn’t make this happen. It’s just how it was. So in a desperate whimsical plea, I fashioned The Dissolution Proclamation. It was a poem that pled my case for some kind of a relationship even though it probably wouldn’t work out; having the little pieces, between forging the relationship and breaking it off, seemed like it was worth having a relationship.

And then it was over. I had gotten into it more than I had initially planned. I changed the name in my phone to ‘Her’ because I didn’t like seeing that name any more. Probably 9 months ago I walked passed her in the Salt Lake Airport with a dude and a ring on her finger. It caught me off guard and all I said was ‘hey!’ That’s really all there was to say.

Poem of the Week - Part 3 - Restless

Week 3. Well, I knew last week would get me in a little trouble but it aint no thang. Everything is everything.

This week…let’s see…Ah yes. This one is relevant and recently on my mind. I wrote this poem a few years back. I was still living in Utah I suppose and I went back home to Alamo for a short visit. I show up at church and I see this girl and I am struck down with a familiar feeling. You see I can fall for a girl in a glance. Usually it is because of a pretty smile attached to a pretty face. I know exactly what I like and when I see it…I don’t know why but it hits me like, BAM!

There she was. I got nervous for a good reason…she was gorgeous. I had never seen her before which made me feel like I had been cheated my whole life. I didn’t know there were ones like this out there!

Anyways, I probed and found out a little bit about her. Her name was (and I suppose it still is) Ariel. Yes, just like the Little Mermaid. She did have a Disney Princess thing going on...like, I don't think she is real. I didn’t have much of an opportunity to talk to her. It all kind of just happened and was over with nothing to show for it.

A few hours later, with her face still fresh in my mind, I got on a plane to head back to Utah and I wrote this poem about her. There were bits of prophesy which came true. I never did lay eyes on her again.

Restless

I can’t sleep
I can’t get comfortable
I can’t even speak
I can’t believe my eyes
Awestruck, frozen, un-fearless
And intimidated needless to say
I have so much to say
And no way to make words
Courage, in a time like this
Would be a guilty pleasure
More wasted feelings

It’s likely my eyes
Will never have that pleasure again
Sometimes a memory isn’t enough
I crave for more
I long for something to remind me
Did I really just see her?
You are more than beautiful
As you fade away
Isn’t there another way?

I lived in Utah, she in California and if I recall I she may have had an on-again-off-again boyfriend which complicated the situation. I guess our moms knew each other so I got her email address and we emailed a few times and that is the story.

The reason this poem is on my mind because a couple of weeks ago I have some strange married lady with a kid add me to her friends list on myspace. About a week ago I ask her if I know her. That sort of hurt her feelings because I didn’t remember her. She jogged my memory and it all came rushing back to me. It was her...and here she is. Click!

A Crooked Babbling Brooke - Poem of the Week

I’ll put up a disclaimer up knowing that this will get imported to facebook and the person who inspired this poem may very well end up reading it. I think lyrically this is one of my favorite poems. Not because of what it says but how it is said.

Check it, I love your guts, you know this. It was my fault for falling so quickly for you back then…but then again it was your fault for being so easy to fall for. ;)

Here is the story. I have a bunch of other poems about this attempt at a relationship. What can I say it impacted me. It takes place about 4 years ago in Provo. My boy Dave introduces me to this girl and she was stacked; so easy on the eyes and so much fun. It was one of those moments that when I saw her, I smiled and I knew I was totally screwed. It happens to me on occasion. I can make up my mind to like some one in an instant. It is a weakness and fault that I have. It has caused me quite a bit of pain in my life thus far.

I fell hard knowing full well that it was a dangerous path I was taking. Anyhow, we had so much fun hanging out and being friends and just comfortable with each other. After going out and being together and feeling like things were cool I started to worry and feel like she wasn’t on the same path…we weren’t really walking towards each other…more so parallel…I guess. I dealt with my insecurities and doubts the best I could but the time came that I couldn’t hold out any longer and I had to find out what, if anything, was going to happen.

So we’re text messaging and I ask the question. I don’t remember what it was exactly but it got me an answer. One I dreaded. It said, roughly, 'blah blah blah, something something something, but I’m not physically or sexually attracted to you.'

Ow. I mean, I appreciate the honesty, for real, I do. I don’t blame her for it, that’s just how it is sometimes. I’ve felt that as I’m sure we all have at one point…it just sucks really bad to be on the receiving end of it. It is that moment where the hope and the fear come together and join to somehow form a deep agony.

I hate running. I’m not a fan at all. I read that text and it all came out and all I could think to do was run. People say it is therapeutic. I say what ever works for you. But there I was, running. I ran and got tired and realized that I still had to run back. I came home and didn’t feel any better…worse now because my body hurts. Remember, I just RUNNOFT (catch the O Brother Where Art Thou reference) I’m not a runner so I shocked my body a bit.

I sat down on my bed and cleared my mind the proper Caleb Way. I let the ink spill. This is what came out.

A Crooked Babbling Brooke

What, I’m not good enough? Do I give up?
Close the door behind me?
Well, the truth hurts. And what is worse, it is blinding.
Constantly reminding me, finding my weaknesses, hiding.
Bringing me grief, stealing my peace, a thief.
She a beauty, and me, the beast.
These kinds of stories, with no happy ending, they adore me, they form me.
No more pretending, lending me fantasies that can never be, only possibilities.
My heart is adrift on random seas.
Play me a heartbreak anthem please.
I can’t breathe, with tendencies to grieve.
She’s out of my league.
It’s cold. I freeze. Oh reality!
My needs never met, bereft, upset.
Yet, I can’t forget, or let go!
Still, I know this is how it ends again.
Lacking, never packing the total package though.
I’ll be good enough for someone, somewhere, someday, maybe.
I hope…

Note: I keep hearing that 2nd to last line and while it may be true it does not bring an ounce of comfort or a hint of relief.

Introduction: Poem of the Week

I don't know if this ruins it for people...if it does just let me know, but as I listen to various songs I sometimes think about what inspired them. I sometimes wonder if it is hard for them to perform some of those songs knowing that the feelings involved are so deep, personal, and hard to reflect on. How hard is it to stand in front of thousands of people and recall the all of those feelings and emotions that caused that song to be written.

I also find it amazing that a song can so succinctly describe a frame of mind or a certain emotion that I am feeling. I'd love to ask some these artists about how the song came to be. How and why did it get written?

In that light, I am going to explain a poem that I wrote each week (hopefully) to give people insight into that inspiration.

I wrote this poem reflecting on one of the nights that I hold closest to my heart. In the moment there wasn't any place I would have rather been. I sometimes wish I could relive that moment on repeat until the day that might actually get tired of it.

It was near the end of October 2006 and I took a trip to California and met my love interest at the time. My dad and I picked her up at the airport and headed to our beach house in Carmel. We had dinner and got settled a bit. It was probably past 11 when we took a walk down to the beach. The poem gives a sound narrative of the scenery and surroundings. It was very memorable to me. The title came from a song by Dashboard Confessional called Dusk and Summer. The line is in there at the beginning. I think these are somewhat sister songs.

I didn't write the poem for many months after. We had broken up and I still remembered and longed for this day. I know what we felt that night and I am waiting to feel that again. I don't know when, where, or with who it will be, but truly, I wait and hope for it. So while this poem holds some sadness in the fact that it is a happiness that didn't last the way I'd hoped, it gave me perspective into what is possible, and that is why this poem is a happy one.

Down By the Shore

We made our way in the darkness,
Down the path and steps
Towards a sandy beach below that awaited us, we crept
The fire burning in our hearts was enough to keep us warm
Yet we were met, a fire left burning, flickering on the shore
As strong waves crashed and stars filled the sky
We stood in the sand in the moonless night
We walked towards the sound of breaking swells
Breathing in the ocean's air, love had cast its spell
Hand in hand; then eye-to-eye Then lip to lip and finally a kiss
Cherishing the moments,
I held you by the fire's side
Holding to each other closely, shooting stars sparked the sky
Clinging to the seconds, pleading as they passed
To slow them down forever, so this night might last

The Art of the Heckle

I love googling myself...especially when gems like this pop up.

http://www.netxnews.net/vnews/display.v?TARGET=printable&article_id=422c956072724