SolitaryRoamer

Rockin' with Frampton and more

Another busy but fun week is gone and I’m not quite ready for the next one to start. Yes, it’s 5:49 a.m. Monday as I begin to type this. I took a nap for a couple of hours Sunday evening then got up and began to edit photos, write a travel story and write a blog for work. So I decided I would just stay up since I’m interviewing the drummer from Shinedown in a few hours and don’t want to sleep through it.

The week started off slow. I didn’t feel that great on Monday so I went home early but began feeling better in the afternoon. After making 72-hour kits at my singles branch’s family home evening activity, I took my friend Shiree out to the local Spoon Me frozen yogurt shop for a food review. Obvious jokes aside, it was a fun time with a good treat (I’m talking about the yogurt).

But Tuesday I was still feeling exhausted and didn’t get into work until late. So I ended up staying there late too, but did go out to dinner with a few coworkers.

Wednesday, however, was where the real fun happened. It was the day of the Peter Frampton concert and my friend/upstairs neighbor Janell was going to the concert with me. But I had a fun Frampton moment earlier in the day as I logged onto Twitter and saw that Peter Frampton himself had re-tweeted one of my earlier posts, which read: “Tuacahn comes alive tonight! @PeterFrampton will rock the red rocks.” Finally, I had achieved my goal of getting a celebrity RT.

I was told I would get meet & greet passes but wasn’t sure if it would work out. I was supposed to be able to meet both Gladys Knight and Foreigner earlier this year at Tuacahn concerts but they canceled their meet & greets. But I did get to meet Charlie Daniels, the guys from America and four of the American Idols, including Melinda Doolittle.

The concert was great (you can read my review for TheSpectrum.com here). And we did get to meet Frampton very briefly after the show. Since it was toward the end of his tour he was apparently quite tired. He didn’t sign anything and we were all basically limited to a quick photo with him (photo is coming). But right after the photo I told him I was the reporter who interviewed him for the local paper and also thanked him for the re-tweet earlier. He made the connection and a big smile formed on his face. He thanked me for the article and shook my hand.

Then the next day I logged onto Twitter again and found a surprise. Frampton had found my review of his show online and tweeted the link. And he sent me an @ message via Twitter: “Thanks so much for the review. I am sorry we didn't get to spend more time after the show. I WILL be back thanks to all there!!”

I spent the bulk of Thursday in the Enterprise area writing about Jason Knowles, a young man with some developmental and physical challenges who wanted to help his community. So he began collecting recycling from his neighbors and talking it to the local bins. You can read my story here and watch the video I helped our photo editor shoot here. I also did a little scenic drive along the Crestline Road between Enterprise and Panaca, Nevada, for my Backways & Byways column.

I spent Thursday night on the phone telling my dad about my adventures with Peter Frampton and calling to set up about a dozen appointments for my branch president at church. I had big plans to write a couple of stories that night but it didn’t happen. So I spent Friday morning and early afternoon finishing the Jason Knowles story and the story about Ramadan that came from my dinner with the Muslim family in Cedar City the previous week.

My plans for Saturday included one event: The first Zion Canyon Music Festival in Springdale. Because it was $20 to get in and I planned to be there all day, I didn’t think anyone would be interested in going. But Janell sent me a text late that morning and said she was interested. And I was happy to have the company. You can read more about that festival on my work blog here.

We did take a break from the festival to visit some of the galleries and grab dinner. We stopped by to see my friends Tim Campbell and Dave West, who both own galleries in Springdale. Janell was just as impressed with Dave’s photography as I am every time I visit him. And he’s just a genuinely nice guy, as is Tim. We a tasty dinner at Casa de Amigos, which is probably the best Mexican joint in Southern Utah.

Then it was back to the park to finish out the festival. Unfortunately a rainstorm decided to shut it down early. We initially fled in search of an umbrella and returned. But the rain was coming down so hard we decided to call it a night, completely forgetting that we had taken my cheapo camp chairs to sit on. Apparently they now live in Springdale.

On the way home we consoled ourselves for missing the headliners, The Mother Hips, by listening to some Frampton and singing along to “Baby I Love Your Way.”

It was probably good we got home a little early because I had a long day of church ahead of me Sunday. Because my branch president had so many appointments I decided to go into church early to make sure they went well. So I got there at 9:30 a.m. and didn’t leave until after 5 p.m. It was a long, long day, but my branch president’s day was much longer so I can’t complain too much. And it felt good to serve.

This week probably won’t be quite as exciting but there are some fun things planned for a few evenings. Thursday and Friday I’ll be reviewing a couple of plays at the Utah Shakespearean Festival in Cedar City. Then on Saturday night I’m attending a couple of art openings out at Kayenta. Plus I have to try and work ahead to get some extra stories done because I’ll be covering the LDS General Conference the first weekend of October.

Rockin' Robin and Michael Jackson

So it seems as if I’ve made it a habit of blogging on Sunday nights. But at least I’m blogging.

It was yet another busy week. I’m beginning to think those are the only kind of weeks that exist now. But I am hoping this next one will be a little slower-paced. I kicked off Tuesday with yet another impromptu interview with my branch president. Since I’m often sitting outside his office during interviews I usually end up getting called in for an impromptu discussion at some point in the evening, especially if one of the schedule interviewees doesn’t show. So, of course, my dating life was a topic of concern for him (I’m quickly approaching the magic age of 31 where you are not supposed to attend the YSA branch/ward anymore). I think he’s just as confused about my dating life as I am.

Wednesday took me north to Cedar City where I interviewed director/actor David Ivers for a story I’m working on for the fall season of the Utah Shakespearean Festival. I’ve admired Ivers’ work for a number of years (he directed last year’s “Cyrano de Bergerac”) so it was a neat opportunity to meet him. And later that night I had dinner with a Muslim family for a story I’m writing about Ramadan. I’ve been trying to track down a local Muslim family willing to talk with me for about five year now, so I’m pretty excited.

The next day I continued Shakespeare interview in Cedar before returning to St. George. And that night I took my friend Jana with me to see a concert at the Kayenta community featuring songs from musicals. I was expecting some good music, but the entire performance was actually very entertaining. There were great moments of both comedy and drama — though most of it was funny. Yet a few of the more dramatic elements were among the highlights, including “Bring Him Home” from “Les Miserables,” “Music of the Night” from “Phantom of the Opera” and “Johanna” from “Sweeney Todd.”

Friday night brought a different kind of concert as six friends and I traveled out to Springdale to see the amazing Janet Robin in concert. She’s probably the best guitar player I’ve ever seen live. She does things on the acoustic guitar that you didn’t know were possible, often playing it like an electric. Plus she’s just a nice lady. I’ve interviewed her a few times and she’s always fun.

Friday also marked the day that my Peter Frampton story and blog ran in The Spectrum and on our Web site. And I wrote about the night hike with Jeremiah. So check them out.

I was supposed to rise early Saturday for a hike but was exhausted from the week. But I did manage to get up for a picnic at Sand Hollow Reservoir with Jen and a few others. It was a beautiful day with clear water and cool puffy clouds in the sky. You can see my photo gallery from the lake on my Facebook page.

Saturday just got better as the day progressed and it came time for my friend Brent’s Michael Jackson party. Brent had tickets to see MJ in London before the King of Pop passed away, so the party was in honor of that missed opportunity, and the chance to host a rockin’ BBQ at his pleasant backyard/patio. I tried to replace Michael by playing a thrilling version of “Beat It” on the guitar and, of course, many sported white gloves. Here is my iPhone gallery and Brent's Facebook gallery.

Plus, I got to rock my fedora for the first time.

But with the picnic and the party, I was distracted Saturday from my church calling and forgot to do a few things, which left me scrambling for much of my 6.5 hours at church today. But it all turned out OK and I even ended up joining the branch choir, just in time to perform in sacrament meeting a few hours later.

Touched again

You would think that with the extras stories I’m writing in my coworker’s absence I would be burned out on writing. With the exception of the major writer’s block case of nearly two weeks ago it’s been surprisingly the opposite. I feel like I’ve done some the best writing of the last few years in these last few weeks.

Of course, it’s probably not my actual writing so much as the stories and sources I’ve been blessed with. I mean how could it not be fun to write about a walk through the tunnel in Zion, especially when I had great sources like the 83-year-old woman celebrating her birthday with the walk, a 91-year-old man and a few adorable little girls. My blog for TheSpectrum.com talks further about my own tunnel experiences.

In the same day’s paper I had a story on a fascinating new drug detox program at a local spa. Again, the sources were the key here as I spoke with the eloquent Dr. Wilcox and convinced a 15-year-old (almost 16-year-old) heroin addict to talk with me as long as we didn’t use her name. This is was only the second story in my five-year history at The Spectrum where I’ve used unnamed sources. The only previous story was one involving a teenager boy who is gay and his family. Unfortunately, given the political/religious climate of Southern Utah, he is still in the closet at school because he fears for his safety.

The next story came the following Sunday as I finally released a story I had been working on for nearly two months featuring a couple of local sisters who spent the summer teaching school in India. I’ve already referred to the story — and how it brought me to tears — on this blog. Again, I was blessed with an eloquent source in one of the sisters, Amy, who graciously allowed me to quote the beautiful writing found in her blog.

That same Sunday I had the opportunity to attend a speech by President Henry B. Eyring, first counselor in the First Presidency of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and one of my favorite church speakers. Except this wasn’t a religious address. It was for students at Dixie State College and featured stories from President Eyring’s own education. Like the Zion tunnel story, my coverage of this event had to be quite short so I expanded it with a lengthy blog post at TheSpectrum.com

Finally this week I had another story bring me to tears. I don’t know if I’m just extra sensitive lately or if I’m just more in touch with my emotions. But it would have been hard for most people not to cry when they heard the story of “Maria.” Again — for the third time in my career — I wrote a story with an unnamed source, whom I refer to as “Maria” instead throughout the story. She is one of the most courageous people I’ve ever met. She’s a 23-year-old mother of a 6-year-old boy who fled her abusive husband more than a year ago. The beatings he gave her hurt more than her body — they hurt her soul. She lost her self-esteem and tried to commit suicide. But then she found the Erin Kimball Memorial Foundation that helped her get back on her feet again and find herself once more. She used the word “angels” to describe the amazing women working with her there and I would agree.

Listening to Maria’s story I don’t know how anyone could raise a hand against her in anger. She just seemed so sweet and harmless. If she hadn’t told me she was 23 with a 6-year-old kid I would have figured she was still in high school. I just wanted to reach out and give her a big hug and protect her from that creature who failed to see her for who she really is. I’m normally not a violent person — I’m actually very much a pacifist — but I wanted to do to that man what he did to her … and worse.

Instead I decided to volunteer. Something stirred inside me when I heard Maria’s story. I knew there were so many more like her, many of whom have not yet had the courage to flee their abusers and seek help. So I told the women at the foundation that I wanted to help. I didn’t know what I could do but I offered my services and contacts to them. Finally, Sue Kimball, the executive director of the foundation, figured out a few tasks for me. Now I’m in the process of figured out how to set up a cause page for the organization on Facebook and I might also help edit the foundation’s newsletters. I’m just happy to help fight domestic abuse in some way.

Emotions

Last week everything went so smoothly. I finished stories ahead of time. I slept well. I even felt good.

This week it’s been the opposite. I had writer’s block — one of the worst cases since I began making a living as writer five years ago. I haven’t slept well, except for last night (which was wonderful) and I’ve had headaches and back pain all week.

To top it all off I’ve been extra emotional. Thursday night I watched “Waltz With Bashir,” an animated documentary about a man who served with the Israeli Army during the Lebanese War and was near a massacre of Palestinian women and children at one point. It was hard to watch much of the film, but because it was animated it was less realistic. Then, toward, the end, you hear the wailing Palestinian women and suddenly the animation fades and you’re watching actual documentary footage from the aftermath of the massacre. And there, lying on the streets are the tiny Palestinian children the Israeli soldiers brutally murdered. It was horrifying. And I lost it. I’ve never felt so emotional while watching a film — maybe because I understood that this was not fiction. This was real and those were real, murdered children.

So I was still a little emotional when I went to work Friday and began writing  a story about Amy and Melissa McDonald, two local sisters who taught at the Shanti Bhavan school in India over the summer. The school only accepts children from the “untouchables” class of people — lower than the lowest caste. It wasn’t my own writing or even the interviews with the sisters that got to me. It was Amy’s blog. She’s a journalism student and has a beautiful way with words. I made the decision to include snippets from her blog in the story. And it was reading those snippets that got me. Hearing her talk of these sweet, innocent children and the love she developed for them made me think of all the kids in these less-than-ideal circumstances across the globe. I thought of the Palestinian children in that documentary. I thought of the little African girls that occasionally come to St. George to dance and raise awareness of their plight. And I thought of the sweet Filipino children I knew on my mission there 10 years ago.

And I cried. Right there in the office, sitting at my computer, trying to write a story. I did well hiding it. The blurry eyes made it difficult to see the screen. And as I fell myself falling into tears, I would take a deep breath and fight it off. I had a deadline to meet. I couldn’t cry all over my keyboard.

Now I don’t cry in many stories. I can only think of a handful over the years that have brought me to tears. I cried when the local National Guard unit left for Iraq and I covered their farewell parade. I also cried when they came home and I saw those soldiers kissing their little children, some of whom they had never met. I cried while writing about a case of child abuse that made me realize I had to get off the news desk or get out of journalism. And I cried when covering the devastation left in the wake of Hurricane Katrina and the people left without homes. But that’s a handful of stories among the few thousand I’ve written in the past five years.

Then Friday night I went to see “The Time Traveler’s Wife” with a few friends. I loved the book (and cried while reading it) and was skeptical about the film version. I didn’t think it would come close to living up to the book. Of course, it wasn’t as good, but it wasn’t bad either. And there were a few instances that nearly brought me to tears. However, I tried to fight back the tears because I was at the movie with four girls (now that’s the way to see a chick flick). I had to appear tough, right? But when I admitted that the final scene did create one tear (one that I wasn’t able to control and fend off), one of the girls said it was “cute.” So maybe it’s OK to shows those emotions.

And maybe all these emotions I’ve felt in the past few days are the reason why I was able to sit down about an hour ago and finally type out a full synopsis of the novel that has been banging around in my head for about a year. And I like where it’s going. Like every other novel idea of mine, it begins with someone dying. And there’s plenty of heartbreak throughout the plot. But I think the ending may be hopeful. We’ll see. But I’m excited about it.

Maybe the hopefulness came from a great night in the mountains of Pine Valley. One of my friends hosted a party there at her family’s cabin and it was just a wonderfully fun and relaxing evening. It was a good day.

God is in the rain

The busy life continues and it’s a fascinating ride. I find that I’m tired at the end of each day but not exhausted. I feel as if I’m fulfilling things and really living life. And that’s a good feeling.

As far as the church calling goes, I got out of Wednesday night branch presidency meeting this week but spent the time doing church stuff anyway. My friend Brent and I are home teaching companions and we are assigned to six different households; so we got a start on that.

Then I spent part of Saturday helping with baptisms for the dead for the first time in about six years — and my first time in the St. George Temple. The baptistery here is much bigger than the one in the tiny Spokane Temple where I last did baptisms for the dead.

And I was one of the lucky Utah Latter-day Saints that got to skip church today and participate in the dedication of the Oquirrh Mountain Temple via video transmission in my stake center. I had never been to a temple dedication before so that was a neat experience. And my mild migraine finally faded toward the end of the 90-minute session.

Work has been busy but going well. Things just seemed to flow this week. I wrote more stories than usual on top of extra editing duties because my coworker is still on maternity leave and I still ended up with enough hours to get started on a few things for next week. My favorite parts of work this week was interviewing the three lead actors for the local production of “Aida” at the Tuacahn Amphitheater, which I wrote about in my work blog. I returned to Tuacahn on Friday evening for a dress rehearsal of “Aida” and brought my friend Jana along with me. She was also nice enough to “help me out” with a food review at the lovely Riverwalk Grill in St. George, where I tried a seafood bisque for the first time.

I had all sorts of big plans for Saturday but I crashed instead. Mostly I spent the day shopping. Yep, shopping. For nearly five hours. First stop was the farmers market at Ancestor Square in St. George where I picked up some pears and something for my mom. I also bought some mangoes and sticky rice from Benja’s, a tasty Thai restaurant at Ancestor Square, for breakfast. Next it was off to the factory outlets, Old Navy and Target where I came away with five shirts, one pair of jeans, two pairs of shoes, six pairs of socks and a fedora for only about $150. Not bad.

After the temple experience, the best part of Saturday was the rain. It doesn’t rain nearly enough here in the desert. And this summer seems like it has been even drier than usual. And when it does rain in the desert it smells so good. It rained a little before I went to the temple and it was raining when we got out and went to Iceberg for milkshakes. So when I got home and it was still lightly raining I decided to go for a nighttime walk in the rain. I changed out of my suit and into shorts and flip-flops and set out to walk around my neighborhood, something I haven’t done in the four years I’ve lived here.

The cool raindrops felt so good after the heat of summer. It had been more than 100 degrees earlier that day but the storm cooled it down about 30 degrees. In many ways it was just as spiritual as my experience in the temple earlier that day. I’ve always felt a strong spiritual tie to nature. And that night it truly felt as if God was in the rain.

Nonstop

This is the first Saturday in weeks where I haven’t been going nonstop. I actually slept in until noon today — a much-needed time of rest. I’ve felt like I’ve been busy before but I think these past few weeks take the cake (to used a tired, old cliché that I really don’t understand).

It’s strange how things always seem to hit at the same time. Four years ago, during the late spring/summer of 2005 was one of those times. I was in the process of applying for a mortgage and buying my condo. Two of the reporters had quit, leaving only two of the four jobs on the news desk filled. Because of that I had to work six-day weeks and averaged 48-60 hours of work for a few weeks in a row. Plus I had just started dating a girl in Cedar City — 45 minutes away. Life was busy.

Last year I went through a similar period. My features editor quit, leaving my assistant editor, Lisa, and me to handle the features section ourselves. Since we weren’t paying an editor’s salary, Lisa and I were both allowed to work overtime. I had also recently been called to serve in the elders quorum presidency at church. And I was dating a girl at the time too.

This year, ever since I returned from a two-week vacation in early July it’s been crazy. I immediately started on a major cleaning/organizing project at my condo that has resulted in a good 40 hours or so of work and about eight tall garbage bags worth of recycling and an additional two bags of trash. I also started preparing some of my photography (below) to be shown (and hopefully sold) in Grün, a local gift shop. And about 10 days ago, Lisa, my assistant editor, had a baby and went on maternity leave. This time around I’m not allowed to use overtime, but I still have the pressure of trying to fit more stories, plus some editing duties, into my 40-hour work week.

 

Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately), this time around there isn’t a girl to worry about. I’ve been going on dates, but with a variety of girls — mostly from my church singles branch. The big time constraint now is my church calling. I thought the elders quorum presidency was a time killer — it’s nothing compared to executive secretary. It was my first day back to work following my two-week vacation that I got a call from a member of the stake presidency. So I’ve been serving in the calling for more than a month now and it only seems to be getting busier. In addition to the three-hour block of church services on Sunday, there is usually another three hours of meetings and other responsibilities. Then on Tuesday nights I usually hang out at the church to manage my branch president’s schedule as he meets with various members of our branch. Then on Wednesday nights we have branch presidency meetings. The first one was only about an hour, but the last couple have both stretched past the three-hour mark.

It’s exhausting, but I also feel like I’m accomplishing a lot. I’m excited for the prospects of making money through a creative outlet with my photography. The absence of my coworker for three months allows me to show what I’m capable of and prove that I’m worth keeping around the next time layoffs come calling. And church service always makes me feel like I’m contributing something to a greater good.

But I wouldn’t mind a little more time for sleeping …

Responsibility

Responsibility. I don’t know what’s with me lately but I’m acting more responsible than usual.

About a month ago I was all set to drive to Las Vegas to see one of my favorite bands — Wilco — live in concert. I had tried to see them twice last year and I was determined not to miss an opportunity so close and so relatively inexpensive ($40). Then I checked the checking account …

So Wilco was out (and the Wilco DVD I’m watching as I type this isn’t helping) but a campout with my friends was in. Even then I did the responsible thing yet again and decided not to actually spend the night at the campout so I could get a good night’s sleep and some packing done before I took off for a two-week vacation the next day.

I traveled through Salina, Utah, where I visited my cousin Zach; his wife, Katie; and their sons, Quinn and Max. It’s always a grounding experience for me to visit Zach’s family. They are the kind of family I want someday. And they are just fun people too. Making this visit even better was the presence of hot air balloons in town (yay).

I made it home to Rexburg in time for dinner with Dad on Fathers Day. Becca and her pup, Khloe, arrived the next day and we had some great times all together, including a trip to Sun Valley. Becca’s husband, Ben, eventually flew west and they traveled south to Utah with my mom and I on their tail the next day.

After spending a few days staying at my Aunt Kris’ house in Cedar City, Becca and Ben continued on to Las Vegas then parted ways again, Becca heading to California and Ben returning home to Missouri. Meanwhile, I decided to responsible once more and spend two of my last three vacation days cleaning my condo. It’s a mess that’s been building in my home office for a few years and I’m finally working through it.

And once more, with layoffs on the horizon, I’m renewing my focus on Twitter and blogging for work, knowing that our online presence is the future of journalism. So, as you know, my updates on this blog are not often but I still write fairly regularly on my work blog. Please check it out here.

Pointing that sinking boat home

I decided I needed to have a new post at the top of my blog rather than that downer one below. Things are better now and I’m moving on.

Thankfully it’s Oscar Season so that’s been keeping me busy as I watch the nominated films in the theater and at home. My favorite so far is “Man on Wire,” a brilliant documentary about the guy who walked a tightrope between the Twin Towers. It’s up for best documentary this year but it’s probably the best film I’ve seen since “Finding Neverland.”

Also I think “The Dark Knight” and “The Visitor” were both robbed of more nominations. At least they got nods for acting.

I’m also working on another story for USA TODAY. This one is about the LDS Church’s welfare/self-reliance program and how it brings comfort to members of the church during trying economic times. Apparently the editors liked the idea because they sent out a note to all the other correspondents saying they wanted at least one story like mine that offers a different take on the economy every month.

I’ve also decided that maybe I won’t write about my relationships on here anymore. Maybe that jinxed me.

The problem is that now that Barack Obama is president, I don’t have nearly as much steam to blow off as I did before. I once got so angry at the state of our nation and the direction W. was taking it that I had to let it out. And because of my job I couldn’t do it publicly.

Oh well, I’m sure I’ll find something to write about soon enough. For now, a happier me is back.

Worst. Vacation. Ever.

So the DC trip wasn’t all that great. In fact, it was the worst vacation I’ve ever had.

Not only did I not make it into the inauguration (read about the experience here in Backyard Ramblings).

But Barack Obama is president. Just thinking about that makes life a little brighter.

Goin' down to DC town

I never thought I would attend a presidential inauguration, let alone the inauguration of a president I enthusiastically supported during the election. And I really didn’t think I would ever attend the inauguration of the first black president of the United States of America.

Yet on Jan. 20 this will all happen.

I found out a few weeks ago that I had received two tickets for the inauguration. I was immediately excited and disappointed. The first was obvious. The second was because I really didn’t think I could afford to go, especially when I found out that work would not pay for my plane ticket, even though I planned to write a few stories while I was there.

However, I knew that if I turned down this opportunity I would regret it.

(Portions of this posting has been deleted to meet my current decision to not discuss relationships on this blog.)

Unfortunately there will still be some costs for the trip without sponsorship from the paper. I just worry because of the increased costs associated with the girl my family, friends and I are putting through school in the Philippines. Although the bulk of those costs are covered by others, I’m still the one organizing the funding and it ultimately falls on me to find the money.

But I would always regret missing this opportunity. It will be an historic occasion — one that I will tell my grandchildren about.

Life is good. And it’s about to get much better come Sunday evening.