"i said 'be careful, his bowtie is really a camera.'"

google readers, can i have your attention please? excuse me, google readers, can i have your attention please? i would like to invite you to come over to the actual blog and read this post. i know this is another lengthy post, but i want you to learn about this cloud world, but if you hate to read, there is an important announcement at the end of the post, and we're going to need your help.

weeks ago, i watched dane (with a little help from friends, and a bit of coaching from me as i watched the youtube tutorials for world 8) beat mario 3 on the original nintendo. it was no small feat and i found myself becoming overly excited whenever we got 3 stars in a row at the end of the levels which leads to a 5-up. time costly thrills.

the reason i bring this up is because watching the levels where you walk on the clouds as mario and get all those gold coins reminded me of thoughts i have had on more than one occasion while flying, and most recently on my flight back from new york. whenever i fly, i do my best to get a window seat, because it's easier to rest my head, but i also love the view. only a long time ago when i was flying from virginia to utah to start college have the clouds looked as beautiful as they did this most recent time. both times the sun was setting and the clouds stretched every way, with heavy, cumulus ones forming mountains. the only difference was the first time i was listening to jimmy eat world's clarity on my discman and thinking it was the only album i'd need on a deserted island.

both times i thought about making the clouds my home. i understand you can't walk on them, but what if you could? what if they were the most comfortable thing? no more bumps and bruises, no more painful reminders that you're 6'4 and hitting you're head after underestimating how much you needed to duck. having a roof over your head would be unnecessary, because it's never going to rain. what if eating them provided sustenance? they wouldn't have the overrated taste of artificial cotton candy flavoring, but similar to the concept of the imaginary food in neverland, the clouds would taste like whatever you imagined they would and you'd like it.

the ever-changing cloud horizon would present the only problem on this fictional world. paul simon and art garfunkel's lines from "the only living boy in new york" would never be more important and true: "i get the news i need on the weather report. i can gather all the news i need on the weather report." if the weather report says "partly cloudy" or "clear skies" everyone would have to pack a parachute. because there is nothing to ever block the sun, and we'll say it's always perfect temperature, my skin would be a healthy bronze to go along with my gold bones and platinum tongue that has the ability to spit fire, because in this fictional world, i would be the greatest rapper of all time. being made up of precious metals and combinations of other elements, i would be known as the periodic table. whenever someone would see heat lightning light up the clouds from earth, they would actually be seeing a periodic table performance. each show would include a cover of gang starr's "above the clouds" with special guest, spizz kid. crowds will erupt during the lines:

"above the crowds, above the clouds

where the sounds are original

infinite skills create miracles

warrior spiritual - above the clouds

raining/reigning down

holdin' it down."

when i'd pick up a handful of cloud and put it over my face as a fake, white beard, people would think it was funny, but some would roll their eyes, because they've seen me use that joke before. i will see some that will laugh. after all, i wasn't hurting anybody. in this world, the hater will keep his/her distance and silence, because no one will want to hear their negativity. if they say something like "e.r.c., that joke is tired and you're stupid for continuing to do that," i will kindly ask them to pick up some cloud and eat it and imagine that it tastes like doggie doodle. eliminating the haters would allow everyone to reach their full creative potential.

oh, and the gold coins will be there as well, but mostly for decoration. the playing field will be level and the only currency in cloud world is what you share with another.

i like to know what time it is. my favorite times are gametime, hangtime, and bedtime. wearing a watch always is a practice i adopted about 4 years ago. my watch is currently on military time and i don't know how to switch it back to standard. it is also purposely 15 minutes fast. the best part is it's digital, so when someone asks for the time, i appear unable to read it because i have to stare at my watch for a minute, because i'm reading 23:34 and can't remember what that means, so i will have to say "it's 23:34 minus 12 hours and 15 minutes." there's also an alarm beep that goes off at 0:00, which is really 11:45 pm, which i also don't know how to remedy. it's just how i've chosen to live my life. i have a clock in my room that's always 10-15 minutes fast, the aforementioned watch, and my phone. my phone always has the most correct time, so i go to that if i don't have a moment to spare for simple math. i guess the idea of being early has always been more appealing than being late.

i remember when i was younger i would look at sell-by dates on all sorts of food items and wonder where i would be when that date hit and when that food item probably shouldn't be messed with anymore. my driver's license expired on my birthday, so i now have a utah license. that's not the point. the point is that i remember looking at the date, 12-27-2009, on my new license back in may of 2004, and wondering where i would be on that date. not only where my location would be, but everything else as well. when i saw that that date had passed i wasn't so sure that i was where i thought i'd be, but after thinking about it, i'll be fine. let's think about it. we've met some pretty amazing people the past few years who have done some pretty amazing things, and maybe we've been able to be amazing ourselves. in some ways the past is just one big sunk cost, but remembering the good and even some of the bad is giving us the gold right now and tomorrow.

and now, the announcement mentioned in the introduction to this post. we've had our times here at deepthoughtsandlove, and those times aren't going to end. i will speak for myself and say thank you to everyone who reads my/our posts and looks at our pictures. thanks to those who ask me when i'm going to post again. this started as a blog for a bunch of chill buds to just make each other laugh. some buds got married, all of us got busy and the posting became more and more sporadic. i started to use this blog as a creative outlet and it's done me well, but this blog was started by a group of us and it will stay true to that.

i would like to announce that i will be dropping a new blog that will be for the most part images with very few words. It will mostly just contain the letters e, r, and c. this is something that i'm openly excited about. i think you're going to like it.

the blog address will not be revealed until these 5 specific people comment on this post:

dustin skinner

raw-b

linda boyer

kevin hutchings

david smith

here's the deal, if you know how to contact these people, you need to let them know this. it has to be them who comments (leaving a link or something of that sort that lets me know it's really them). text them, facebook them, call them, or tell them face to face. don't think that someone else will be the one to tell them either, because they're thinking the same thing.

anyone can feel free to comment, but if you want the address, those 5 definitely have to comment. they don't have to comment on the actual post. all they have to do is type "yes i am" when i say "ARE YOU READY?!?" actually, everybody type "yes i am." but i'm especially waiting for the 5.

I CAN'T HEAR YOU! I SAID, ARE YOU READY?!?

I STILL CANNOT HEAR YOU!

EVERYBODY, ARE YOU READY?!? LET ME HEAR YOU SAY "YES I AM!"

"is everything alright? you feeling stormy? you feeling phony? you're not the only."

at work my cubicle was connected to another eric's. at the beginning of the day co-workers would pass by his cubicle and say "good morning, eric," which would cause me to turn around since they would usually get to the "eric" part as they passed my cubicle. i would turn in a way that said, "hey, that's really nice of you to wish me a good morning and to know my name even though we've just recently met." my eyes would meet no one's and i would turn around deflated because it's not in anyone's best interest to greet each person separately and bless everyone who sneezes.

(my almost reception of the greeting not directed towards me reminded me of when i first arrived to the city and walked to a street corner and waited to cross with two ladies, one walking a sweatered dog and another on the phone. the lady on the phone was silent at first as she listened to the talker on the other end. she let out a sympathetic "awww..." which made the dog walking lady think ms. phone talker was admiring her dog and his sweater. dog walking lady whipped her head around so fast to shoot a smile at phone lady, but realized phone lady was just on that phone. dog walking lady's open mouth closed, unable to talk about her pet, and she turned around. i smiled because i had forgotten things like this happen. phone lady let out a few more awww's and with each one i smiled bigger, but also wondered if phone lady knew the power she had over dog walking lady's pride. it made me think about all the billions of people in this world and how making a mistake in the presence of one of them can make you feel embarrassed. kind of sad.)

it's fun to be around someone with the same name, because if they have the right personality they're able to recycle nicknames on you. nicknames like "e-money" and "big-e." one time other eric was answering his phone while i was walking by. he answered by saying, "this is eric" which had me whispering to myself, "yes it is."

these are my brothers, scott (left) and jud (right). scott stole his outfit from the strange brew closet.

if i were to write a note to a baby i saw on the train one day, it would read similar to this:

dear baby,

you have a very large head...but you also have beautiful eyes. there's a chance that you'll grow into that head, but if you tragically don't, here's the plan: get a good group of friends and have them refer to you by a nickname that focuses on your best parts. in your case it's those eyes. any nickname drawing attention to those pale blues will do. it could be as straightforward as "beautiful eyes," or even just "eyes." maybe "peepers." i don't recommend having the nickname be "peeping [your name]" because you're not a pervert and i don't think you'll ever want anyone to think otherwise. you made multiple passengers smile because of those eyes and your own smile, which has me thinking you're in the early stages of a friendly personality. develop that and you'll be good. best case scenario is you don't grow into that large head too soon, because if it takes a little longer i think you'll be able to develop some humility, sympathy, and empathy. let's just say that if you have a physical big head now, maybe you won't have a figurative big head in the future. one day you'll realize how cheesy that last sentence is, but i hope it doesn't cheapen the rest of my advice to you. do these things and you'll go far.

sincerely,

hot lips

not 100 percent sure, but i'd venture to say that the same percentage of the physically attractive and physically unattractive spend just as much time in front of the mirror worrying about their looks. but only one group is walking away with confidence. shouldn't be that way.

of course beauty is in the eye of the beholder, so it's up to you, but i'm talking about the popular and widely accepted opinion/view of what physical attractiveness and unattractiveness is. i think we all see pictures of ourselves where we think, "man, i'm looking ugly in this one." yes you were. yes i was. in that very moment, in that very lighting, in that very article of clothing, from that very angle, with that mouth open that much, with those eyes closed that much, with all of those hairs in each of those positions, i am/was/will be ugly. don't delete those ones. you need to always keep those ones, because it's all about contrast between those and the ones where you knew where the camera was and you were ready.

i was thinking about this as i was looking in the mirror while shaving my face (surprised? occasionally a weak neck beard grows due to laziness or curiosity. when attention is drawn to it during a curious time, it can be slightly embarrassing. that means i still think there is potential), and while i was in front of that mirror i guessed that with every minute we spend looking at ourself at least one selfless thought never happens, or just dies. exaggeration? i don't know.

after rinsing off i looked up at the mirror and saw a spider on my face which threw me into an instant panic. but it was only on the mirror.

reminded me of all the times i've found a bug/spider on me. i quickly shoo it away, but then wonder how long it's been on me and if it had bit me, because i'm not going down like that. not because of a tiny bite from a disease spreading 8 legged freak.

this one is dedicated to uncle brad and the entire narwhale crew.

this guy had to be listening to u2.

in 2010 i want my rock-paper-scissors record to be perfect. think about it, if you were perfect at rock-paper-scissors, you would never have to be the one to do the undesirable tasks that are usually decided with best of 3 rock-paper-scissors matches. (remind me to tell you about the girl who was born without ring and pinky fingers, as well as thumbs on both hands. in short, she won the rock-paper-scissors championship 7 years in a row despite only having two moves. to her, it was only rock-scissors. can you believe that?)

i don't know how you're feeling, but 2010 could be the best thing that's happened to us in a long time.

also, i'd like to thank mr. jennings for bringing back the flat top. i wish he dropped his 55 with that hair so when they show highlights years from now, all the kids will wonder what decade it was. also, how good is the western conference? i could enjoy watching almost every team and would even be willing to pay $10 to do so. i can't say that about the eastern conference.

"i get knocked down..."

this is spencer with artax.  

many don't know this, but spencer played atreyu in film classic, "the neverending story."  he was very good.  one day you should ask spencer to tell you some behind the scenes stories.  hollywood's insane.    

this is spencer and artax off the set coming up with good ideas and goofing off.

director, wolfgang petersen's, original script had atreyu being taken by the sadness and had artax as the lead role, but changes were made throughout the filming process.  in this scene wolfgang told spencer to put his face on artax's.  even though they're such good friends, spencer admits it was still uncomfortable showing such affection onscreen.

maybe the most iconic scene of the film...and it almost didn't happen!  artax would not get in the swamp.  as goes the old saying "you can lead a horse to water..."  spencer thinks artax knew atreyu was originally supposed to go and was protesting the new storyline.    

also, wolfgang wanted atreyu to frantically repeat the "s" word here.  spencer's refusal to use such strong language led to the improvisation of these lines: "ARTAX...YOU'RE SINKING...C'MON...TURN AROUND...YOU HAVE TO...NOW...C'MON... ARTAAAAAAAX. fight against the sadness, artax. artax, please...you're letting the sadness of the swamps get to you. you have to try. you have to care. for me. you're my friend. i love you.  ARTAX! STUPID HORSE! YOU'VE GOTTA MOVE OR YOU'LL DIIIE!  move...please.  i won't give up.  don't quit. ARTAAAAAX! [inexplicable birdlike sound of pain and sadness]"

spencer was nominated for zero awards by the academy, but this scene causes me to beg to differ. it did land him a tv role as jamie in 1986's, "casebusters."

life can be funny.  when old friends leave us, we sometimes wake up to new friends.  and...

...new friends can fly!

but we will never forget our old friends.

we tip our hats to one of our deepthoughtsandlove founding fathers and one of america's greatest guys, spencer karl rowan, for working hard and getting into ucla, unlv, uop, and san antonio's dental school.  he will be attending all of them in an unspecified order.  

"find me in my mitsubishi, eatin' sushi, bumpin' fugees."

i was sitting in a downtown train with two seats between me and the closest person to my left.  i was listening to fugees and it was connecting with me.  a woman boarded the train and sat in the seat next to me.  i wasn't annoyed by this, because she had a choice and she chose me.  personal victory.  she either liked me better or was less creeped out.  there is no other explanation.  i'm going to add that she was a bigger lady, which wasn't bad at all, but meant she was overlapping onto my seat quite a bit which kind of explains why i wanted to put my head on her shoulder and take 5. she gave off a good vibe which allowed for these thoughts..  

the next stop, a big man boarded and sat to the right of me and the reflection in the window across from us made me smile.  heavy beats in my ears and big bodies to my left and right.  if you don't fight it, the movement of the train will make your head nod and that added to my fun. 

my favorite part of this trip  was coming to the next stop and looking out the window to see a big poster advertising andrea bocelli's new christmas album.  there was this guy leaning against the wall with his back against the poster and laughing at something on his phone.  the funny thing is it looked like bocelli was also looking at what was on the phone and laughing with him.  i got such a kick out of the scene that it made me open mouth smile.  as the train pulled away i kept thinking about that poster and thought: how great is andrea bocelli?  

though physically blind, he can still see what's funny.  he finds the humor in any situation.  

i wouldn't mind having that poster on my wall.

This reminded me of some cwebb fun we had back in the spring...

he gave fashion tips to mikey:

"now i know you ain't wearing that eddie bauer plaid that you stole from eddie winslow's closet."

dude flinched every time.

cwebb was teaching me how to be clutch in big games, but this is when he stopped mid-lesson and lovingly stared at me, which was confusing.

cwebb caught a big whiff of something coming from ej's direction.

"c.r.e.a.m"

at least 2 crazy men, or 2 men who were very good at playing the role of a crazy man, have been displeased with the little to no change i have given them in the past 2 months. one man asked for a "penny, nickel, dime, or quarter," all of which i did not have at the time. he zeroed in on me though, and he said things to me that i'd never think to say to my mother or about yours. he was mumbling, but his eyes got his point across. i thought about the dollar bill i had in my pocket and asked the man: "you want a dollar?"

i gave him the dollar, because if you could get a crazy man to stop killing your good time for a dollar, wouldn't you pay up? there was also the outside chance that this man had weapons, giving him the ability to hurt or murder. i firmly believe that my life is worth more than a dollar, and i'd venture to say that you feel the same about yours. and i think that should be enough to keep us going

sometimes i'll be walking down the street and my head will be uneasy and everyone's face will have a look like they want my wallet. would all the ladies and gentleman who look like they want to rob me please listen up - just because i look like 200 bucks, doesn't mean i have it in my wallet. i can guarantee your betrayal of my trust and the physical/emotional damage you cause me will not be worth the contents of my wallet. though my cafe rio card has 4 stamps, i don't have enough money to buy the other 6 burritos in order to get one free. sorry, bud.

"sticks and stones may break my bones, but your words will never hurt me" is a boldfaced lie.  (i went back and forth in my head whether or not i should point out how literal i made that sentence.)  your words can and will cause pain. 

physical pain is much easier to put your finger on than emotional pain. "i know my lower back hurts because i had a terrible spotter when i was doing free weight squats at the gym, but why do i feel like a major zero?"

also, i'd rather have someone yell "i hate you" at me, rather than whisper that they hate me to 10 of their friends. i could do without both, but if i had to choose, just yell it, coward.  but on the flip side, it'd be alright if someone whispered that they love me to 10 of their friends rather than just yell it at me.




oh, i figured out how to make a cool "r" with my fingers.







you're worth more than a dollar.

scroll down

the hesitation between posts leads to more and more thoughts which adds to the length of the nonsense which about 3 people read from start to finish.  and i love you for that.  i love the rest of you for your stopping points.  

i'm going to try to do shorter posts, because i've put off my twitter training long enough with its allotted 140 characters per post.  and let's be honest folks, we don't have all day.  after all, there's money to be earned.  so much of it that we're going to need bigger pockets to carry all of this money to our respective banks.  put away your bugle boy's and lee pipes and slip into a pair of jnco's,  because only those pockets will be able to hold all of the cash.  

i think that's why i wear my jeans a little tighter than the average joe.  this way it only takes a few bills to get my pockets full and make me feel like a rich man.

shorter posts feel unusual.  to have a shorter thought stand alone shows a bit of confidence.  to have a one-liner that has the strength to be surrounded by a blank page.  it's just passive confidence though.  this is the internet.  feedback comes in the form of the spotty 1-4 comments if you've connected enough with anyone, and occasionally you will get up to 7 when you get punked by Anonymous (see previous post).  

i want you to know that i'd say all of this to you in real life if the mood was right and there wasn't so much money to be had.

"and i'm one step ahead of the shoe shine, two steps away from the county line, just trying to keep my customers satisfied."

i was eating and studying in the cougareat months ago. byu was holding a dance camp at the same time. i saw an older man with white hair practicing a dance in the middle of one hundred lunch eaters. he resembled, or could have been, ted danson. upon reaching this conclusion i instantaneously thought, "ted 'dancin'' danson" in my head and loved it. i jotted it down for the sole purpose of one day posting it on this blog and spoiling my loyal readership.

he was an alright dancer, not breathtaking or anywhere near it, but i tip my hat to him. here is a man old enough to give up learning new dances, but won't. a man who surely has enough money to take private lessons in a studio somewhere, but was willing to humble himself and attend a university dance camp. not only that, he is willing to practice in front of one hundred strangers. this is a man who's work in the form of acting i'm not the most familiar with, but enough to where seeing him makes me feel weird and i feel like you kind of have to admire someone with that ability. this admiration almost led me to walk over to mr. danson, place my hands on his shoulders, look him in the eyes, and say,

"edward, i must say your presence on this campus comes as a great surprise, but while you're here maybe we can figure something out. there's something about you that gives me the willies, but i can't quite put my finger on it. that's not fair, because most any television and film i watched in the late 80s - early 90s gave me the willies. i felt weird about 'cheers' and obviously associated those feelings with its spin off, 'frasier.' i will say i loved your work in '3 men and a baby,' as well as '3 men and a little lady.' what was that like working with both selleck and guttenberg? did you guys get pretty close? if my observations are correct, according to the '3 men and a baby' movie poster, steve and tom seemed to be pretty close, but the '3 men and a little lady' poster tells a different story. i completely understand that people change and as a response, friendships and relationships also change. i guess what i'm trying to say is congratulations on winning over selleck in the end. i know it's not easy. i also wanted to know if your obviously fake ponytail in 'getting even with dad' was your idea? also, when nbc aired 'gulliver's travels' i feel like i should have been more excited than creeped out, why wasn't i? a few more things. although i've never seen 'becker,' i assume that it's pretty bad. i can almost pinpoint that the gross feeling i get when i think about 'becker' stem from it being a new cbs fall sitcom that received a lot of buzz, but marked the end of summer and the beginning of a new school year. relating to that show, in high school, one of my friend's grandma either hated or loved you and that show. my memory fails me, but either way her feelings were strong. ted, i gotta run, but you are the owner of a lot of money and that is something i may never be able to say about myself. oh, and i've always loved your hair, so that couldn't be the reason for willies."

this story's only about two facts from being nonfiction. first, i never met ted. second, i wouldn't have said all of this to him.

suppose i had really crossed paths with mr. danson. i'd probably say something more along the lines of, "congratulations on all of the success you saw during the '80s and '90s." a response that is honest, but hides so many other thoughts underneath. a general statement that is neither here nor there. enough to make a hollywood has-been seeking validation for his career to go insane.

if i were to really, really meet him, i would probably just offer a fist bump and smile and walk on by, which says "i recognize who you are and wanted to congratulate you on all of the success you saw during the '80s and '90s, but you don't want to hear what i really have to say."

ted would understand. ted would go back and forth in his head asking himself whether or not he really wanted to hear what i had to say. ted would make his decision. ted would want to hear it. ted would want to hear it all. ted would offer me an invitation to make this story a reality. ted knew in just eleven words he would stop me dead in my tracks. and so ted did:

"but what did you think of '3 men and a baby'...?"

i moved to new york city to see what it smells like. these are scenes from central park. i don't look forward to the day when 9 steps become a task. when my memory is shot. when i think everyone and everything is moving too fast.

i do look forward to going to the park with 1-2 friends of my same age and telling stories loosely based on truth. talking about how things move too fast. about how 9 steps is a big deal. i hope one of those friends is female. maybe she calls me sugarbear. maybe we met along time ago, married, and are getting ready for a peaceful exit. maybe she hates when i talk sports with the other friend. talking about how the suns won back-to-back championships at the end of steve nash's career. how the second one was easy with the lebron signing. how amare selflessly agreed to a smaller contract to make this happen. how the suns went on to win 5 straight after nash retired with rubio at point. how they were the greatest team to ever play the game.

97th percentile. we're rounding up on this one.

brian "total science" boyer took the OAT this week. the kid killed it and we're happy for him. i don't mean to be too boastful in posting this. apologies to all of you who did not perform as well on the OAT, but brian studies hard and got it done. here's to you, mr. 4.0. give him a hand, folks.

[YOUR NAME], you're cool too.

"LET ALL THE CHILDREN BOOGIE."

sup? i have pictures to post. a lot of them. depending on how you look at it, maybe too many. the next few posts will be a bit of a spring travelogue, because we tried to head somewhere each weekend. a short while back, some of us went to oceanside, where the nielson family has a beautiful home right near the ocean. i hadn't seen the ocean for some time, so upon arrival it was good to sit outside and hear the waves again. to fall asleep and wake up to that sound is something i could get used to. i sleep with a fan on, even in the winter, just to get some of that white noise, but it was good to hear something natural. sounds so nice.

jumping around in the ocean brought me back to the atlantic days on the coast of virginia, maryland, the carolinas, and a bit of florida with family and friends. focusing mostly on a trip to virginia beach when the waves had no trouble rolling me and hundreds of dead crabs ripped apart my less than calloused feet. the days of aqua socks. the same days when swimming trunks contained at least some hot pink and a little bit of the neon green within chaotic designs were worn without a hint of irony.

the pacific's water is cold, but nothing wetsuits can't handle. the ocean is funny, because inside the water is this childlike fun where it is near impossible to hold back any laughter. and you're shouting something to someone and you're trying to be funny, but you're laughing too much and you're feeling kind of dumb, but it really doesn't matter, because mikey just got knocked down by a wave and preston's wearing a see-through-when-wet rash guard.

i'm no surfer. i'm no brian boyer, where all i'm thinking about is having my toes on the nose of a board. but i'm also no stranger to the gnar. i just get my fix in a different way. where brian needs his toes on the nose, i need my belly on a boogie [board]. nothing more gnarly than riding a wave until my dome hits that seafoam. i'm going to say the highlight of the trip for me was catching a wave and looking to my right to see duke of hazard (preston) next to me, and to his right, dr. wave (mikey). it was a moment unthought-of previously to. duke of hazard put out his hand which i promptly slapped followed by healthy laughter. for your information, in the world of boogie you do not come up with your own name. it must be earned. it must be given to you by your fellow brothers and/or sisters of the boogie.

i don't know what else to say, folks. i will say that i thought san diego was a cool city. beautiful temple. special thanks to the nielson family for being generous with their property, especially that wetsuit. here are some pictures. majority are of boys. on second look, they are completely and entirely of boys. majority are posed.




above: mikey listening to one republic - apologize.
below: mikey participating in everything is everything - witchi tai to.









poor, but fun, attempt at wu-tang's symbol.

it means "e.r.c."




the guy with the guitar thought we were doing a photo shoot for his album cover. the album will consist of only 90s covers, and if you want the specifics: hootie and the blowfish, seal, fuel, eagle eye cherry, gin blossoms, and oasis. mikey couldn't believe some of the stuff that makes it in that book, but continues to believe in himself.
mikey was giving preston some voice lessons. it went something like this: "SO QUIET, ANOTHER WASTED NIGHT, THE TELEVISION..."


here are some film photographs. these images were scanned directly from negatives.




don't be fooled by this tough guy. dig deep enough and you'll find a gentle heart.

"wish that i was cool
i wish i was surfin'
wish that i was cool
i wish that i was surfin'
every single day
cool buds and tasty waves
wish that i was cool
i wish that i was surfin'"

-fenix tx

stay cool.

"when the sun beats down and i lie on the bench, i can always hear them talk. me, i'm just a lawnmower - you can tell me by the way i walk."

so, i've got a bad idea for you. order 2 double cheeseburgers from the mcdonald's value menu after 10:00 pm and measure how long it takes for it to completely destroy your body. my experience tells me the later you consume this greasy mess, the slower the destruction will be. the latest the slowest. i recently was in this situation. looking down at my tray i found myself dangerously outnumbered. the visible grease spots on the paper wrappings were telling of what would be seen and then felt within. after opening the wrappers, i was not surprised at what i saw. the shine of the greasy buns was expected, but not welcomed. i don't look at visibly soggy meat with excitement or pride. i don't love how it melts in my mouth and a little bit in my hand. i don't eat mcdonald's because i love greasy meat, but because of the size of the bills in my wallet.

i look into those greasy buns at my blurred reflection and for a split second i question my decision, but will not be wasteful. i handle it like a man. i eat the first and then the second, crumbling the wrappers as i go. as i exit, i drop both wrappers in the the trash along with my receipt because the damage to my body will be enough to remember this occasion. i don't let the swinging trash can lid hit the back of my hands because i like to keep those clean.

you might wonder why i do this to my body. i've dedicated my last two posts to my poor eating habits. it's almost like i'm saying things i never did mean to my body. "i hate you and i want you to feel it. you've been very good to me, allowing me to engage in physical activity, such as baseball, basketball, bike riding, swimming, so i'm going to punish you by consuming terrible meat and all the unhealthy that's included." it's times like these when i feel like i act in total disregard for my body. because how great is the body when it works properly? if mine didn't work right i would be sad. if i couldn't hop on my blue ox of a bike and make it go i'd be sad. if i couldn't shoot hoops and whatever i'd be sad. if i couldn't move my body on the dance floor i'd be :(
so, i guess what i'm saying is to just be good to your bodies, folks, because they're going to shutdown one day and you're going to wish you hadn't rock'd the value menu as frequently as you had.

also, i've thought about it, and i don't really like james taylor's music. i've tried, but there's something about it. i was eating lunch the other day and "you've got a friend" came on and its sound reminds me of early saturday afternoons in virginia riding in our blue 1984 mazda pickup truck on the way to the dump with garbage in the form of tree branches, weeds, leaves, and so much dirt. it seems like a song by james taylor would always be playing on the radio and then the radio man's voice would come on and say something like "there's another one from james taylor," and then some radio ads, which i have a difficult time listening to. If it was my dad and one of my brothers in the car i would be in the middle and would get punched in the leg by the stick shift knob, or catch a bit of my dad's elbow as he switched gears. we would have the windows down, so that would lessen the blow of the radio voices, but when we'd hit a stoplight the radio would be blasting and i'd hope the next song would be more in the vein of phil collins. i really enjoyed, and continue to enjoy, phil's music. i remember being in the car when a genesis song came on the radio and asking my mom if i could get their album for christmas. this was at a time where i had no cd's, but wanted to start my collection. i remember feeling a bit hesitant in my request for such a gift, because i didn't know how my mom felt about their music and i had never asked for any music before. i was still playing with gi joe's and ninja turtles, so it probably came as a surprise. i don't think she took me serious, because i'm still without a genesis album. i became a fan of mr. collins when he did this duet with david crosby. i heard the song before i saw the video, so i'm not sure how strong my love would have been if the order was reversed. mr. crosby looks like something of my bad dreams. he looks good in a humorous way. the reason why i loved the song so much was because i heard it around the time of michael jordan's first retirement and i would think about how it would fit perfectly in a montage of highlights from jordan's career. my young mind thought it was almost too perfect. listening to it now, many of lines wouldn't make no sense, but if espn wants it i know i need it and would love to help.

on the subject of music videos, i find it funny now, but devastating when i was younger, when i would hear a song on the radio and picture in my mind what the singer looks like, but then see the video and be totally off. it hurt my head to hear what i thought was cool, but then see something its opposite. EXAMPLE #1. EXAMPLE #2. you expected these singers and musicians to carry themselves with so much cool, much like a young tevin campbell, but they don't, and your pop music world is turned upside down. they're not bad people at all, but you want the book to match the cover and when it doesn't, you just don't know anymore and you need a break. the song comes on the radio again and it's not the same. the big sigh and the switch of the station. and then this comes on.

at least genesis makes sense.


















someone got their hair trimmed. the reflections on the lenses look dangerous.

kix and giggles.

i was at my parent's on sunday. my mom usually provides me with a few groceries before i head back to provo. sometimes she'll surprise me with an unopened package of double stuff oreos. i will usually grab a box/bag of cereal as well. this time i grabbed a box of honey kix, which i'd never had before. i think my all-time favorite cereal was berry berry kix. i heard they still sell them somewhere, but nowhere i'm at. beginning a day by drinking that bowl of berry berry milk gave me what i needed to be a happy boy. but regular kix are not the same. add milk to those and you've created a flavorless chore. to remedy this, when i was younger i would load my bowl of kix with sugar. when i first started pouring my own sugar i would accidentally miss the kix and save some of the sugar for later. as i grew older this accident became intentional as i would deliberately pour sugar into my milk. quickly eating my slightly sugared kix, i would look forward to the best part. i would scrape my trusty shovel of a spoon across the bottom of the milk-filled bowl and come up with a sugary silt that i would then eat. i assume it's like panning for gold. i remember thinking, "is this wrong?" the slow rot of the teeth, the ache of the tummy, and the seeming rust of my bones made me think it was. i guess it could've been considered my favorite sin. the only way to shake it would be for my mom to buy another cereal, but not corn chex, because in this memory "corn chex" is synonymous with "kix." the safest bet were lucky charms, froot loops, smacks, or their generic versions, which already are sprinkled with a more proper amount of sugar. i think it was this sugar experience that paved the way for my oreo eating habits. a habit that will probably eventually prove to be my end. we all have to go somehow, so i'm not sweating it. i wonder if a gigantic oreo is forming around my heart. besides, every great rapper foreshadows their death in their rhymes. 2pac did. biggie did. now the e.r.c. will. i feel like i could use lines like:

"that's just how the story goes, heart stopped - too many oreos."
"now i've got ma crying on maury po-vich, cuz i never could get my ore-o fix."
"at the grocery store, making a list before i start, next thing i know, 6 oreo packages in my shopping cart."
"there's a clog in my bloodstream, should have chased the paper 'stead of oreo cream."

in my tribute rap video i want my whole crew to be pouring out glasses of milk. maybe even full gallons. the end of the video will have no words, just a tiny beat with some piano and everyone standing around looking hardcore and instead of lighters everyone will hold up a double stuff oreo and twist one side off and then hold it to the sky. nabisco will pay for my funeral.

when i'm grocery shopping and they have a 2 for $5 deal on oreos, i will usually take advantage of, as well as the 2 for $5 snyder's pretzels. the only other things i always buy are milk, bread, and marshmallow mateys (unless there's a big sale on life cinnamon and unless berry berry kix come out of hiding). when i'm checking out, the cashier has no less than 4 times asked, "when's the party?"

"like everyday, man." i buy my fruits and vegetables elsewhere and my meat from mcdonald's/wendy's.

fond memories of week nights in my virginia home eating nearly a whole sleeve of oreos, usually leaving 2-3 in the plastic packaging on the kitchen table, while my dad made himself some bread and milk, and i looked at nba box scores and read the funny pages, which were rarely funny. the cookie crumbles the same as it ever did. the humidity made them chewier then, but with that cream in the middle, the fun never stops.

i ate a bowl of honey kix this morning. they tasted like milk.

to the man with the greatest cd collection.

oh, you thought stussy was dead? get real. we're taking a break from mikey's picture of the day to give a shout out to the spizz kid. spencer, happy birthday.

the iron lung ain't got to tell you where it's coming from.

02/10/09

suburban life ain't what it seems.

what's the deal with this pop life and when's it gonna fade out?

"super nintendo, sega genesis, when I was dead broke, man, I couldn't picture this."

posts have been sporadic lately. i was thinking why that was. school probabably. or maybe the blog world is just losing her fun. maybe the e.r.c.'s lost it. whatever it was. maybe he fell off. maybe it's the poor economy. maybe the deepthoughtsandlove crew's given themselves to twitter, or given all their energy to facebook. the latter is improbable, because if you were to ghostride my wall posts on the book you would see that the past 2-3 months were dominated by the sisters brown, and those were every few weeks or so. shout out to the brown sisters. the only notifications i'm seeing are "so-and-so challenges you to the name the walt disney films!!! quiz." maybe the e.r.c.'s just focusing on his rap career. ready to make a splash. maybe thoughts are shallow and love is lost. maybe the shifty weather's had our heads spinning. maybe team narwhale's early exit from the tournament took everything out of them. maybe the suns not making the playoffs wore me out. maybe news of blink 182's reunion just wasn't enough. maybe what it was isn't what it is anymore. there's no specific reason. too many lurking variables.

here's what it's going to be. i was looking through the photos on my camera and realized that i have a lot of pictures on there and a healthy percentage of those are of our good friend, mikey. i don't think i've formally introduced mikey to the blogtown. he moved into the boys ranch about a year ago. mikey's been down with the e.r.c. since the virginia days, but has meshed well with the whole deepthoughtsandlove crew. he sets up shop in the iron lung where raw-b used to reside. we have retired the name, iron lung, and now refer to it as the gentleman's club since both mikey and preston bunk together. mikey is a delight with his boyish charm, ability to shake what he's been given, gorgeous locks, contagious laughter, harmonica blowing, guitar strumming, video game playing, back-flipping, pizza making, etc.

mikey has many personalities and names. when he wears a green a's hat a little to the side, he is known as "fun mike" because of his fun-inviting nature and his resemblance to porky on the 90s version of little rascals. after that nickname it was fun to say things like "why are you sad, mike?" because it sounds like you're saying "why are you sad mike?" or "don't be mad mike." those might be poor examples, but for the next week i will be posting daily photos of mikey in his multiple forms and personalities and attach his name. this will help us return to the days where the picture of the day somewhat put us on the map and maybe build our loyal readers' and viewers' confidence and trust in us again. so come back soon....like....tomorrow (deseret industries).








you can read mikey's humorous anecdotes here.

"she said, 'there's really something about you that reminds me of money.'"

(this post was started so long ago, and has been added to about 3-4 times over the past 2 months. some of it makes sense. it's probably too many words and it touches on a pretty wide range of topics. part of it gets kind of serious, but i hope not overwhelmingly serious. just a few things that were on my mind. anyways, i feel like there's a little something for anyone. some have asked if this blog was done. not by a long shot. thank you to the loyal readers. especially to my brother, nick, because i feel like he's one of the only ones that gets most of my references.)

i was listening to peter gabriel's song, "solsbury hill," while checking whatever on the internet and came across a story which i read. peter gabriel was on loop, so i consciously listened to 3/4 of the song the first time and then unconsciously about three other times, and then i'm pretty sure i consciously listened to the last 1/4 during the fifth time. i do this often. it usually happens when i only have one or two songs by a particular musical artist. artists like crazy town or blessed union of souls. sometimes it causes a desire to obtain more songs by that artist. of the aforementioned, peter gabriel is probably the only musician worth thinking twice about. songs like "in your eyes" and the "city of angels" soundtrack gem, "i grieve," would be welcomed addenda.

(i was typing "cougar" within a text message and my predictive text brought up the word, "antics." having "cougar" already on my mind, i read "antics" and instantly put them together forming "cougar antics," followed by thoughts of cosmo and his crazy cougar antics. i then thought about what crazy cougar antics the cougars of cougartown will come up with this weekend. throwing nyquil-doused pieces of bread into the duck pond? throwing nyquil-doused snowballs at the faces of unsuspecting victims and then saying, "sleep," right after doing so? throwing a 6 pound bowling ball down the lane at fat cats, instead of the usual 14 pounder, to create maximum spin, and then screaming in sarcastic frustration as the ball enters the gutter, maybe even letting out a tiny swear for shock value? It's up to you.)

sounds of a song, especially from the 80s and early 90s, trigger childhood memories. the memories are not always, but are mostly, specific. musical group, animal collective, include a mixture of various sounds that affect me in such a way. they've been making music for a solid decade or so, but i have only been following them for the past few years. i have enjoyed their last 3 albums. their earlier stuff takes an earful of listens before i am able to make much sense of it, but their newer stuff is a little more reachable, and connections are made sooner than later. i don't know, something about the sounds remind me of barefoot, frog-catching fun. so when people ask what kind of music i like, i know longer want to do the whole "oh geez, i like it all..." but i now will say, "i like outdoor-frog-catching-barefoot-forest-campfire-sitting-tripped-out-cowboy-and-indian-peter pan-lost boys-paint-on-your-face-canoe paddling-adventure loving-rock music." the reason i bring them up is because i was listening to their song, "my girls," with good friend, brian, and he said something like, "this reminds me of 'neverending story,'" and i got excited for a minute, because that's what i thought about when i first listened to it. it's got that sound that is "neverending story." i feel like that film was my introduction to weird. "neverending story," "willow," or "labyrinth," or any film that begins with the tristar pictures logo were the beginning of the weird. it's those first 7 seconds with the brass sound and that white horse galloping that say to me, "you're about to watch something you don't understand and that will be so weird and semi-suggestive, but not until you're older and start paying more attention to detail." it was that period of time when they were still trying to figure out what a kid's film was supposed to look and sound like. there were no computer animated cartoons, there were no high school musicals, there were no air bud's. pg was so different back then. very dark and out of control. i recommend watching favorite movies from your childhood if you were born in the mid-80s and earlier and counting how many times you have your mind blown. we have on demand on our tv, so we're able to watch movies for free. you would be surprised at how many kurt russell movie options there are. stargate, escape from la, big trouble in little china, backdraft, etc. i was surprised that overboard wasn't included in the list. i've never seen the whole film, but this kurt russell-goldie hawn cinematic masterpiece is representative of every wasted saturday. it seems to be the only thing on tv during those crucial moments during those late autumn saturday afternoons, when you need to decided to turn off the tv and go outside or slowly let the darkness feel the room. motivation slowly dies with every line delivered by kurt russell. you have met your fate.

out of curiosity i chose to watch big trouble in little china (btilc). you mention it to anyone who's seen it and they'll probably say, "oh, man, patrick swayze was so good in that movie." this isn't true. the only involvement of patrick swayze in this film was his rejection of the script. he was too busy preparing for his role in dirty dancing. this opened the door for mr. russell to act in his most definitive role yet. i remember my brother taping btilc off tv when we were young and feeling weird, but also feeling like it was my favorite movie. watching it in 2009 is a different story. it's about the elimination of 13 characters away from making sense and just raised so many questions about what the creators were thinking. but that's just how pg was. nothing had to make sense. i almost feel like everyone of these films had an excess of costumes so they would continue creating more underdeveloped characters. "well, we have another one of these disgustingly graphic costumes, should we make a creature that acts as guardian of the other creature who is guardian of the emerald of the right earring of the superhuman who protects the main evil boss?" i feel like kurt russell had a lot of say in the storyline, and i'm pretty sure he just threw out the script they gave him and was just shooting from the hip. i can hear the director asking, "kurt, was that really the right line?" and mr. russell confidently saying, "yeah, you don't remember writing that?" i really feel like the end of the film was left open-ended. the script just finished with "tbdkr," which means "to be determined by kurt russell." and what an ending he determined. here's what he said, "alright, i'm gonna go ahead and throw a knife at the main bad guy, but i'm going to miss, he's going to pick up the knife, say something cleverly cliche, weakly throw the knife back at me, and then i'm going to catch it and throw it right back and get him in the forehead. what do you guys think? i know it's super anticlimactic, but i've got another idea to put in right after that will literally be mind blowing. what do you guys think?" at that point they had no choice, but to follow their captain to the cinematic gold that was this inexplicable mind blowing explosion of the least developed character in the movie. unbelievable. best part is the film ends with hints of a sequel, which has happened. i've never seen it, but i'm checking the $4.00 walmart bin everyday.


(i started this post over 2 months ago, but for some reason didn't post it, so whatever. i also wondered if anyone checks anymore, but stopped, because it seems like everyone just google-reads everything anyways.)

i thought about when someone says that people fear what they don't understand, or what they think is weird, or is just not what they're used to, or could easily be labeled as crazy. i then thought about how i'm more afraid when i hear something crazy and it starts to make sense to me.

i also thought about who has quoted that whole "people fear what they don't understand" line, and who said it first, and how it's probably been repeated by multiple people to the point that it could be near impossible finding the originator. then i thought about when we try to quote each other, whether it be words from a book, a song, a movie, a professor, a leader of any sort, or a friend, and how we are rarely, if ever, able to identically recite them. a lot of times they are misquoted, or just not delivered with the same power or conviction. sometimes they are done with more and give more meaning to the words. we put our own spin on things, which isn't always a bad thing.i think of cover songs and how they can go either way, but i think these guys got it right. you're entitled to your own opinion.

as i thought about quoting and giving credit to the proper originator of the lines we love, i came up with an idea. since we're constantly misquoting, why don't we just begin quotes with, "we once said..."? after all, each of us is part of the greater whole. each "you(r)," "i," "my," will be replaced with "us," "our," and "we." even this idea of "we" is one i've heard before from multiple sources, which i won't, and maybe even can't, directly qoute. but these are things i have heard and have affected me. i feel like whether we admit it or not, we are affected in some way by everyone around us, even if we've never talked to each other. body language is enough to make someone feel welcomed or uninvited, confident or self-conscious, loved or hated. my body is so talkative on the dance floor. always suggesting things. i think if we substituted "we" for the more singular pronouns, there would be less of a habit of speaking unkindly of one another and a little bit of the blame would be shared. try: i can't believe we said that. what were we wearing? we don't understand. our head hurts. we are the best. we are annoying. it's our fault. who do we think we are? we shouldn't do that. we can't. we won't. we wish. we aren't. we will. we did. i can't believe we like us. we promise. there are many holes in this one, because i think we all need and deserve recognition for our victories, and we all need to be accountable, but it's not bad to tweak our focus a bit and to stop pointing fingers.

i've also been thinking about how we all want change. i think that much of the time we mostly want everyone else to change. it's not us that is making us unhappy, it's what this person is doing or saying or vice versa that is not letting our lives be as happy, fun, or meaningful as we would like. i think we have times in our lives where we know it's us who needs to change, but we can't, or refuse, to admit it. i think we all want to be better. but that improvement or progression also depends on everyone around us. how we serve, love, and care for one another. it's not just doing something. maybe it's not doing something sometimes. maybe it's not saying that. maybe it's not being that way at that time when you know that they won't like that. i just think we want people to change, but even if they do, we sometimes don't let them. i think we start viewing people, especially those closest to us, a certain way that when they try to change or be different, we automatically think they're acting weird or pretending to be something they're not. we've got these labels that we love to use, and once we use them they're near impossible to shake. i think sometimes we want to be heard, but don't want to listen. we want people to care but we don't. we want to have fun but only can if it's more than they're having. we want others to succeed, but only if their accomplishments don't exceed our own. we can dish it out, but can't take it.

i then thought about how we mean something different to different people and that's not such a bad thing. we won't be everything to everyone, because we can't be. we can be a little bit or a lot to someone. and that's exactly what they need.

these are things that i think about sometimes when i'm lying in bed at around 2:00 in the morning trying to figure out if i really just watched an hour and a half of family matters. my 2:00 mind is so sharp. i have solved so many of this world's problems at 2:00. i will think about how i'm going to make my life better and maybe someone's around me. i am full of so much resolve. when i wake up i am going to say and do specific things to certain people and they are going to react in specific ways that go according to my specific plans. i would like to give an example now. try this on for size: problem - world hunger. solution - pb&j. everyone will eat pb&j. all over the world. that's all we will eat. starting now. our children will no longer be eating anything but bread, peanut butter, and jam. we will finish whatever food we have left, but when it's gone, it's gone. for those allergic to peanut butter there will be substitutes. my 2:00 mind assumes no one has strawberry jam allergies. that would be too unfortunate. if such allergies are possible, then they will be eating only pb sandwiches, and those with peanut allergies have the option to eat just j sandwiches. think about this plan. no holes in it, right? right. i know what you're thinking: "don't we need more than just pb&j?" the answer's no. sure, life expectancy would drastically drop, but look at us, we've leveled the hunger playing field. everyone gets to play on the field with equal strength. with life expectancy dropping, we will take more advantage of the now, because we don't have time to think about the past and the future's coming way too fast to even know where to begin to think about what to do. relationships will be more meaningful, procrastination would be weakened, and everyone will happily eat away hunger to a pb&j fixed to their liking. i choose the sweaty-summer trip to dc with cousins-smushed by an apple-looks like it's bruised, but it's just the jam bleeding through the smashed bread-room temperature or warmer pb&j. that's what i'm into.

i'm in the lrc on byu's campus and there is a large bug flying around. i've been following it around, because i get all shifty and bothered when a bug lands on me. mostly just indoors. the funny thing is i was following it with my eyes and i saw it swoop down towards two kids to the right of me. i felt like it would spend some time over there and then i saw it crawling on his head. not even kidding, folks. he was talking to his friend and obviously felt it and just went with his whole hand and put it right over top. it's been the most thrilling event of the day. i don't think the bug is dead, but it's injured. what was the little guy doing inside anyways? inside is stress. the weather's been "messing with my focus" beautiful this week. it's days like these when i can't decide whether there's too much kool-aid in my bloodstream, or too much blood in my kool-aidstream.



here are some film photographs i took a long time ago with a canon ae-1 camera.











tons has happened since i last posted anything. some pretty wild things, but the best is nick and shannon got married. so long ago. they're great together. they're some cool dudes.

it's good to be back.

All of us have experienced finals in the testing center. Very comfortable. Everybody makes themselves very comfortable. But why not? We’re all in there for hours. That probably explains the very strange smell in that room.. We’ve all done it. We’re in the middle of a test and we feel the bubbles of air begin to circulate within us. We might even be stressing a little bit, and who wants to be courteous under the pressures of stress. Besides, it’s all about comfort. And so it comes out. Oops. I take another deep breath and realize that there’s got to be something more to the smell, but then I figure it out. Perspiration. Everyone perspires when they’re stressing. At this point during my test I feel that my performance will be optimized if I take a little break. Usually I just get a drink of water, but I had already asked to use the restroom once and I didn’t want to have to do it again. It’s weird now that they follow you to the bathroom, so instead I just walked along the back wall and counted the chairs. I figured there were about 840 seats—all of them occupied. “Pain is weakness leaving the body.” I chuckled to myself, literally. I wondered if the girl who was wearing that shirt had a very dominant father growing up. Or maybe it was just a cheesy shirt she wore to justify some sort of self-inflicted suffering. Or maybe it was the only clean shirt she had when she woke up that morning. I don’t know. I sat back down. From then on I took my test one question at a time. With the room full, there were so many people to look at, male and female, beautiful and spiritually minded. I handed my test in. I always feel like I’m giving those testing center employees something valuable when I give them my test. It’s proof of all the time I put into studying, but they don’t care. Whatever.


When I left the testing center for the last time of the week I didn’t feel any different. Even now as I’m riding in the car back to California I keep on thinking that I should feel some sort of relief, but I don’t. I think it might be because things have slowly been changing with me over the past several months. I have been changing. School is the means to an end. “I will proceed to do a marvelous work …even a marvelous work and a wonder.” I feel like that applies to us individually, to the entire House of Israel, and to God’s children collectively.

something you might not know about me.....

is that i had the opportunity to act on the cartoon, "fat albert." you also probably didn't know that the cartoon used to only be called "the cosby kids." i was an up-and-coming animated actor with big dreams. this was only the beginning. i was getting offers for roles in the not yet released spiderman series, and there were even talks with jim henson about becoming the new male nanny on muppet babies. he told me i had the legs for the part and would only need some white socks with green stripes and some purple shoes. big things were happening.

i remember showing up early to the set of "the cosby kids." i was the first to arrive. we were having our first photo shoot with the majority of the cast. i was very excited to say the least. i got to the dressing room and there was a rack of clothes with a note that read "wear whatever feels right." i put on a red sweatshirt over a white collared shirt with some blue jeans. i was looking fresh to death and feeling confident. i walked out of my dressing room and down the hall, passing weird harold and dumb donald. high-5's were exchanged as weird harold stated, "e.r.c., you are looking f-r-e-s-h, that's fresh, fresh, fresh." i thanked him and continued my strut until running into albert. "e.r.c., i see you strutting. with good reason! those threads are as dope as i've seen! like the nicest gear these eyes have witnessed. like......." he went on with that until i interrupted, "hey, hey, hey," in a low voice, and then, "thanks, albert, but that's enough of that." he said, "hey, hey, hey. i like that. i like how you said that, e.r.c." i smiled and nodded, but felt weird about his overjoyed expression. as i continued walking i could hear albert borderline yelling, "hey, hey, hey," in the faces of mushmouth, bucky, and rudy as he passed. i heard rudy's reply. "hey, albert, i really like how you said that, you should say that every time you see anyone. that should be your thing." "great idea, rudy. i'm going to say that all of the time. i'm going to get right in everyone's face and i'm going to say it." he has been true to his word ever since. this didn't bug me at the time. "hey, hey, hey," didn't really fit my personality or body type. it does bug me thinking about the millions of dollars fat albert was seeing because of my idea. i wouldn't mind a slice of that, naw mean?

as the morning went on i was just shooting the breeze with the cast and crew. everyone but albert was present and ready for the shoot. i had to excuse myself to the restroom for a minute or two and upon returning i found everyone surrounding albert, laughing about the "hey, hey, hey," he had recently greeted them with. they slowly moved away from him and i could not believe what i saw. albert was wearing the same clothes i was. my jaw flabbergastingly dropped. was he serious? "hey, hey, hey, where've ya been, e.r.c.? we've been waiting for ya?" everyone was staring, and then out of nowhere rudy bumped his gums, "he went to his dressing room to jack your style, albert." this accusation created for a bit of frenzy amongst the cast. i was bugging and ready to spaz on everyone, but then i remembered weird harold had complimented me on my outfit earlier, so i said, "you serious? i was rocking this way before albert. isn't that right, harold?" weird harold hesitated, shrugged his shoulders and threw me under the bus. upset, i wanted to spit, to cry, to vomit in no particular order, and then i felt nothing.

this explains why i'm standing expressionless in the picture. that is the look of a man who is numb. a man who has been wronged. a man who has realized that even cartoon dreams come to an end. the photographer tried to get me to jump and smile several times. that one was the best we could do. at one point i removed my red sweatshirt, and eventually my white shirt and sat on the ground bare chested and defeated. i don't know why. i reached the point where nothing mattered and no one could say anything that would keep my shirt on. i left before the photographer was finished, but at that point no one cared. i think there was an unspoken understanding that i wasn't coming back, and i never did.

do i regret walking away? not really. i try not to think about it and i definitely don't talk about it. i won't lie, every time i watch "ghost dad" (which is often) the sight of bill cosby travelling through a phone line to put a scare in his daughter's boyfriend gets me thinking about what might have been. 1990 films were so bizarre. cartoons are bizarre. animated actors aren't as happy as they seem. they are not immune to physical and emotional pain contrary to the portrayals of every animated injury and speedy recovery. the bumps and bruises remain beneath the artistry of heartless animators. they put you through a tiny h-e-double l, but don't dare sketch pockets deep enough to hold a single penny.

now, i'm not writing this to bash on my man, albert. that was never my intention. we're different. he was able to handle the pressure of the business, and did so with such grace. i find his minisodes on youtube to be of much educational value. in the minisode, "have a heart" we learn how to perform cpr. if albert did not pay attention during cpr lessons, he would not have been able to properly perform mouth-to-mouth on ol' mudfoot. in "busted" the kids are arrested for being in a car with an unlicensed driver. they are taken to prison and learn what it's all about. i found this one to be slightly inappropriate. there is also one called "cosby's classics" where bill tells the gang some tall tales. this can be taken quite literally as he tells the story of fictional character, paul bunyan, and even more fictional character, brimstone bill. they encounter the villainous wild river, twister. they want to literally straighten out this winding river and are able to do so after brimstone handcrafts a harness for babe, the trusty blue ox. i found this one to be imaginative and thrilling.

bless bill cosby.

i have been typing this rather long post in the computer lab of the spencer w. kimball tower. i recently removed my shoes to reach a higher level of comfort and would now like to put them back on and leave. there is a woman across from me who is seated at the computer next to her husband and they are in the beginning stages of an argument about the content of the husband's paper, which the wife is proofreading. it seems as though the husband is not taking kindly to the constructive criticism of his wife, and she doesn't seem to love his reactions. the reason i share this is because the wife's feet are very much on one of my shoes. she seems to have mistaken it as part of the computer desk. i fear that retrieving the shoe from beneath her feet will only increase the escalation of an already rather heated, unhealthy verbal bout. i just made tiny eye contact with the wife, but enough to make me feel like she knows that i can hear them and have been listening. i feel as though this occurrence has caused her to move her legs from a stretched, to a more ready position, releasing my shoe and allowing me to make my exit in a more satisfying manner.

as for my comparatively long hiatus, i do not apologize. i felt like it was necessary and appropriate to honor brother nick hales for nearly two months.

i would also like to publicly wish my father, Brent Cottrell, a happy birthday. he is a wonderful father, and a great example. i did not dedicate an entire blog post to saying why he is great, because i feel that would not fit with the less than serious tone of the current ramblings and comical/sarcastic playfulness of this post. that is not to discount this post as untruth in its entirety, there is more fact than fiction. i will no longer use this blog as a forum for birthday wishes and dedications as frequently as has been done in the recent past. such wishes will be done in a more private manner, not to say that the already expressed love and compliments were a passing fad or meaningless. all were real and true and i hope you could feel that.

stay blessed and encouraged.