BOOK-O-SUPPLEMENTS

i have a book of random stuff i dont want to loose. it is blue and weathered and water-logged. i did loose it once. it happened during my last move, but i found it a few weeks ago. as much as i like my book-o-supplements there is only one thing inside of it that i actually care about. everything else is just kinda cool to read every once in a while.

when i was in high school i took an english composition class. it was supposed to be college level or something. anyway, i struggled in that class mostly because i was a very inconsistent writer. when i was interested in the topic i would actually try and do really well. otherwise, i just sucked it up. well, we were given an assignment to describe a life-changing moment in our youth. something pivotal. something that developed character or interests. well, i wrote my paper the night before it was due (i stayed up pretty late too. maybe that's why it was a "college level" class...) and had a friend proof-read it at a party. she said it was one of the best papers she had read in a while and started quoting it. weird.

so i turned it in, and the teacher reacted in much the same way. i thought it was cool because i would finally get an 'A' on an assignment. but it really pissed off a girl in my class. she was a book-worm and worked really hard on every assignment, yet she managed to get a worse grade than me. one of those 'prodigal son's older brother' situations.

anyway, im going to post the paper below because im afraid i might loose my book again and im sure some of you will like it. i dont expect any great reviews since im no longer in high school. also, i appologize in advance for the use of the phrase "all the vigor of my being" (i did actually think it was an original thought. at least it isnt "fiber of my being"). enjoy.

THE HUNT

Stealthily, I hunted my victim. I sprang into the air with the force of a tiger, tackling my prey, bear-hugging him with a vengence. He had entered my territory--my realm. Strapping my paws around his torso, I felt him quiver with the realization of my attack. I could not let him go--not this time. He squirmed viciously in an attempt to be rid of me, but to no avail. We struggled our way to the ground; rolling in chaotic patterns across the marked-off expanse. I grabbed ahold of his leg and threw him with all the vigor of my being. His weakened body hit with a sickening thud. I pounced again. Having my arms wrapped around his head and arm, I squeezed the remaining thoughts of escape from his mind. Losing all hope of regaining strength, he slowly lowered his shoulders to the ground.

Slam!

What happened? I looked around. Next to us was the referee, anxious to get us off of the mat. I jumped up, helped my opponent to his feet and awaited for my hand to be raised. Sweat poured off of my 105 pound, 5th grade body, boiling like a natural hot spring, muscles tensed with adrenaline. Confused with the thoughts and emotions that had possessed my mind only moments before, i walked toward the judges' table and loosely signed the bout sheet with my trembling hand.

A husky body approached with burning eagerness. He had been yelling at the top of his lungs on the sideline trying to wrestle for me, but I had become oblivious to his cries. He put his steel-framed hands on my tingling, scrawny shoulders, his forehead slick with perspiration. Staring into his deep brown eyes--as I had done so many time before in hopes for approval--I nervously awaited his response to my match. In a solid, satisfied voice he said, "That's it. That's how you wrestle."

COCKED

i just figured something out. i dont write much anymore and i think it is because over time my posts have been aimed at entertaining people who might read this. that's not to say i dont like it when people read my blog, i have just noticed that i have slowly started writing for the readers and not myself. so what is the difference? i rant a lot more when i dont think people will read something.

so, here i go.

i played my trumpet today for the first time in about six months. i stopped playing regularly last summer because i got tired of people complimenting me on my 'incredible ability to improvise' when they dont know the first thing about it.* ignorance is bliss. apparently they didnt notice what the byu music program did when i auditioned for the jazz band and didnt make it. the fact is, im not that good. shut up, i mean it. my technique sucks, i have a crappy armature, and i cant play very high. i have a decent sense of rhythm and style, but im sloppy. i have developed a technique over the years of guessing the chords rather than taking the time to actually figure them out. in other words, i got pretty good at playing by ear.

i know how to read music and chord progressions very well. im just lazy. you see, when i first got into jazz (8th grade) i got some play-a-long cds and just played the same thing over and over for hours. i would simply figure out the root chord and only play that. i had a great time just playing whatever the crap i wanted. but it didnt help me get any better. long story short, i use a more sophisticated version of that same model.

well, today just reaffirmed the effectiveness of that system so long as i only play along with cds. i suppose it is enough to impress those who dont know any better.**

for most of my life i have struggled with accepting compliments. i used to fight it. i would actually argue with the person and downplay anything nice they might have to say about me. this brings me to the one personality i truly hate. and i mean hate.

cocky people.

i knew a kid in high school, named brandon, who was just that. he was the lead sax in the jazz band and had a passionate romp with a very popular girl. so naturally he thought he was god's gift to anything and everything. that's all im going to say about him. he was the second person i ever hated.

the first person was a basketball player in 6th grade, named adam. he actually tried to convince me that basketball was a full contact sport. me!?! i was a freaking wrestler. i know what full contact is and i refuse to believe that a sport that penalizes you for touching some one's hand is great. sorry, paige. basketball sucks.

anyways, because i loath cocky people i often try to do the opposite. not because im humble. hardly. im a pretty cocky bastard myself. and it is one of the things i hate most about myself.

so, im sure i have offended some of you. if i have, eh, you'll probably get over it. if you dont get over it, then stop reading my blog.

* jazz is a lost art. im sorry for those of you who read this thinking "i know what jazz is. i love jazz. big bad voodoo daddy is awesome. nora jones has an amazing voice. swing dancing if fun." the fact is, most people who like "swing" are dorks that dont know the first thing about it. just take a walk through the HFAC and you'll see what i mean. if you can tell the difference between maynard ferguson and jon faddis then you might know what you are talking about. anyone ever heard of sammy nestico? buddy rich? mingus? the duke? didnt think so.

** dont even get me started on vocalists.

HELL'S LITTLE ANGELS

so, i have my bike. and i like it. but there have been a few mishaps already. first, i ran out of gas riding to spanish fork. but as soon as i figured it out i remembered that my bike has a reserve tank; so i only spent a few minutes on the side of the highway.

also, my bike gets about 45 mpg.

later in the week i got a call from the honda dealer letting me know that my license plate came in (yup, i only need/get one). on my way back i rode down center street at 15 mph and hit a screw with my rear tire. im not sure how my front tire missed it, but the outcome would have been the same. karma seems to be holding a grudge. so i had the dealer fix it for me (i know, you are probably thinking "you of all people should know how to change a tire." well, it is a little more complicated on a motorcycle than on a car. you have brakes and shocks and stuff on both sides of the tire. and you cant just prop it up with a jack and expect it to stay still.) they finished it the next day with barely enough time for me to pick it up before they closed.

one thing that any biker can tell you about is the "biker salute." it is pretty simple. whenever you ride past another motorcyclist you make a sloppy peace sign with your left hand. most people will keep their hand on the handle bar, but some will let go and drop their hand to the side to do it. but never, ever do it to someone on a scooter. (in fact you probably shouldnt even mention this to them. i think it is a pretty sore subject. bikers have only recently started accepting bullet bikes (aka crotch rockets). the biker community just isnt ready to accept scooters. i guess they figure once they let scooters in, they have to start letting in riding lawn mowers too. then what? weed whackers? trollies? buggies? minivans?)

well, i tell you this because as i rode through mapleton one day a motorcycle cop rode past me and made the sign. i quickly returned the gesture.

ok, fine. my stories kinda suck so far. nothing incredible has happened yet (although i did ride the alpine loop this weekend. it was just dandy). and i hate leaving a blog without writing something interesting if i can help it. so here is a story of my dad's biker days.

when my dad graduated high school he had a honda 160cc. for those of you who dont know what that means, it is small. very small. scooter small. mine is a 750cc. so, naturally he decided to go on a cross country bike trip with his best friend. his friend's bike was the same size. somewhere in the mid-west they were riding down the highway just minding their own business when they nearly get run off the road by a guy in a convertable sports car (i guess they had those back then). soon after this happened, a pack of hell's angels sped past them and caught up the to sports car. they surrounded the car and started kicking it and spitting at the driver. terrified for his life, the driver picked up speed and left them in the dust.

my dad caught up with the biker gang at a gas station and thanked them and asked them why they did it. one of them said, "we bikers got to stick together."

RAVING RABBIDS

i know i have already written several blogs this week, what with the whole purchasing of a motorcycle and all. but i had the most entertaining dream last night. i mean, this sucker was better than the one i wrote last july about the "portal to hell...and all that jazz."

so the dream starts out with me laying in bed asleep (go figure, sleeping in a dream. does that count as two sleep cycles?) when something wakes me up. i look around and find myself in my own bed but in a different room.

then i see a stuffed bunny on the other side of the room facing directly at me. nothing really special about this bunny in appearance. it is average size and blue in color. but then i notice that when ever i move my head and look at the doll from a different angle the head always faces directly at me.

so i try moving to different sides of my bed to see if my eyes are just playing tricks on me and the head keeps up with my every move. until i actually fall out of bed. it is at this point i see that the head-shifting doll is holding some papers in one hand and a revolver in the other. so i approach the bunny and take the papers from his hand. there are about 5 papers, hand written. almost immediately after taking the papers from the bunny's hand, it raises the revolver to its head and blows its brains out.

and then the alarm clock goes off before i get a chance to read the papers.

JOY RIDE

this is my very first motorcycle ride. i thought you would all like to join in my joy, and bask in my awesomeness.




also, i like this picture of me on the bike. you'll want to see this in high rez.

LONE BIKER OF THE APOCALYPSE

i...umm...bought this today. (for those of you who want to know it is an '07 honda shadow spirit 750, black with red pin-stripe flames.)

and yes, i have a helmet.

PARTNERS BLACKIE AND RED

when i first thought about getting a bike this is what i figured i would get:

the honda rebel. a classic, so they tell me. one of the most reliable starter bikes in the market. the main complaint with this bike is that it is small. so some one my size is about all the weight it can handle. wonder why it has two seats then...

but still, it is supposed to be exactly what im looking for--an in-town commuter bike. and with a price tag of only 3 grand off the lot, its hard not to take it. but i probably wont.

if i go the small/cheap bike route i will probably go with this one:

the yamaha virago. similar to the rebel, but it is longer and wont give you leg cramps. also, it looks pretty.

but salesmen are smooth talkers and im considering a bigger bike. i mean, im not a small person, so its only logical right?

the first big bike i considered was the honda shadow.

just take the rebel and double every thing. especially the engine. the rebel is only 250cc. this bad boy starts at 600cc.

it is wide, heavy, and still a great starter bike. and it has tons of features and accessories.

but it only has 4 gears (dude, even the rebel has 5 gears. what the crap?). and according to consumer reports it has the most uncomfortable stock seat ever made.

so in order to ride on the freeway (which is the main difference between big and small bikes) i would have to upgrade even more to the 750cc model. the shadow spirit. same as the regular shadow, except for the bigger engine and the absolutely necessary fifth gear.

but there is still the seat issue...

so we move on to the yamaha V star. very similar in size and make to the shadow except for a slightly bigger engine (650cc) and it has a fifth gear. as for the seat, it felt very nice.

and it is roughly the same price (a couple hundred more than the shadow, but still under 6 grand).

so i think i have decided on the V star. so now all i have to do is decide between red and black...

oh and the safety course and riding test, yada yada yada. and let's not forget about leather jackets and chaps.

some day, little buddy. some day...