Story Of My Life

I would think at some point I would outgrow this tendency to want to put everything off, but so far I just haven't. And while I haven't been able to move as quickly as I would like to on my thesis work, it has been really gratifying to feel like I am in the right place for the time being.

For a few weeks this past month I kept wondering if maybe I should just go back to Utah, but in the last two weeks especially it has been really neat to think about all the ways I've been available for different people down here. Need someone to drive out to pick up someone in Victorville at the drop of a hat? Or you need a blessing late at night? How about just a sympathetic ear? I'm your guy. Do you need a positive speech to help you get reoriented in your life? I'm pretty proud of my ability to infuse optimism with realism when I do those. I can't solve everyone's problems, and I don't always know the right words to say, but if nothing else I try and make myself available to help out in any way that I can, and that has helped me to feel like I can be of use, even if I'm not currently earning a paycheck. A friend of mine said, "bloom where you're planted," and I think I've been able to see the beginnings of some flower buds cropping up. And that's a nice feeling to have.

But...it's not to say that there haven't been moments here and there where I've felt the sentiment expressed in the following poster:

Everybody Get Down Tonight

If I don't end up getting married in the temple, it'll be because I wanted to have an entrance like unto this one for the wedding party. Unfortunately the embedding has been disabled on the video so you'll have to just go ahead and click on the link to view from YouTube. If that's what a group of semi-coordinated white people can do, imagine how much better it can get.

Dance is the best. The best. Even Petros on the PMS show loves So You Think You Can Dance. It's both athletic and artistic. In any case, I thought last week's performance show from SYTYCD was the best yet this season. They had a number of really awesome routines. These were my favorite:



I actually got a little emotional with that one. The story is about breast-cancer. This one is a Shane Sparks' hip hop routine which was pretty awesome.



And I think this one was my favorite of the season. Brandon is so super gay, but you can really see in this video just how hard he hits his moves. He makes Jeanine, who is a super awesome girl on the show, look average.

As of a couple of weeks ago, I hadn't been feeling invested in anybody in particular, but when Ade was in the bottom two a couple weeks back, all of a sudden I got very invested. But to be honest, with the exception of Evan, I think anyone from the top 6 could win and be completely deserving. They're all just really good dancers, but let's go for the local boy Ade who is attending Chapman University.

Cheese Roll!

You know what's sad? We could never have an event like this in our crazy-litigious country. Or if we did, it would look completely different. People get separated shoulders, broken bones, sprained ankles, but can't ever seem to resist taking the tumble.

The Wedge

This past weekend down in Newport Beach waves were topping 20 feet at The Wedge, a local spot known for getting some pretty gnarly surf. I went down with Doug and the boys and about 500 other people to watch the waves.Here's an LA Times article about the event. Apparently last weekend's surf was the highest it's been in about a decade. Pros were flying in from Hawaii just to take part in the swell that came our way. There were probably about a dozen or so guys out braving the waters, with most of those guys on boogie boards, a few surfers, and then one or two bodyboarders. On the same day that we went, one bodyboarder had died, getting crushed against the rocks of the jetty by the waves. From what I heard, lifeguards could only watch from a boat as the surf was too tumultuous to go in and pull him out. They had to wait until he drifted to a spot that wouldn't also endanger their own lives. I saw one surfer get the ride of his life. Another surfer had a cast on his arm and lifeguards tried to convince him not to go out. They even went to get some police officers that were nearby to escort him away, but when he saw them approaching he made a break for it and ran into the ocean.

There were certain points where the water was a really cool aqua-teal kind of color that I hadn't really seen around these parts before.
In this pic you can see the combination of the wave bouncing off the jetty up against the surf to create a monster wave. I call him Devastator.

Angels Baseball

It's been a little while since I've posted about this, and since I've had a Kent comment, so here goes. The Angels are kind of amazing lately.

• They are down their three biggest power hitters, but they're still managing to average something like 6-8 runs a game.
• Their team batting average is near the top in all of baseball, if not at the top.
• Pitching has been okay, but seeing all of their recent call-ups from the minors, I actually feel most confident in their bullpen. The Jepsen kid throws 100 mph+. They signed Darren Oliver a few seasons ago, but the guy is having his best season by far with us. Jose Arredondo has stunk and gone back down to the minors, but even losing Scott Shields to injury and K-Rod to free agency has not been much of a problem at all. I was optimistic about Brian Fuentes, and although he started off a little slow, the guy has the most saves in all of baseball, and has gone about 6-7 weeks without allowing a run. It's amazing.
• Their hitting philosophy has totally shifted this past season. I used to be all for getting rid of Mickey Hatcher, but signing Bobby Abreu has gotten all of the younger guys on board with working pitch counts. It's unbelievable. Their OBP is incredibly high from the top to the bottom of the order. It's not uncommon for consecutive guys to work 10 or more pitches per at bat. I went to the day game on Saturday and they had a nine-run 4th inning. They just kept hitting. That stuff is great now, but will make all the difference in the post season.
• Kendry Morales. I was all for resigning Mark Texeira, but mostly because I was tired of all of waiting for one of our prospects live up to their potential. Kendry has come through in a big way for us. He just wrapped up a 20 game hit streak, and already has almost 20 home runs for the season. I remember when we signed that guy 4-5 years ago and gave him $6 million just to come over from Cuba when he hadn't even played in the minors yet. The guy is really coming up big.
• Juan Rivera and Mike Napoli. I've always loved these guys, and I really thought that Rivera would be the perfect solution for GA leaving. The guy has good pop, and hits for a decent average. He just never really had much of a chance to be an everyday guy. Mike had a breakout rookie season, then developed a big hole in his swing, but now seems to be a guy that we can really count on for power.
• Erick Aybar and Chone Figgins have been unbelievable. Truly. They're on-base machines, and on Saturday I saw Figgins steal three bases, get on base four times, and hit a home run. Kent...you're right. I didn't appreciate him enough, but the guy has been HUGE for us this season. He's been so important for us. I can't overstate how much so.
• They still need some starting pitching. Lackey has flashes of being great, but hasn't been entirely consistent yet. Jered Weaver is having a good season. I think we need to trade Ervin Santana while his value is still somewhat high. I don't think we're ever going to get a consistent stream of good innings from him. I think he's just shakey in his confidence. Joe Saunders is struggling a little bit, but for whatever reason I feel confident that he'll be a solid second or third starter. But other than that, I'm feeling pretty dang good about this team, which is a far cry from what I would have said if you had asked me a few months ago.

Oh...are you guys in for the All-Star game next year? I will pay upwards of $100 for home run derby tickets. The game would be fun too. It's on a lottery system, so we better all be signing up, and getting all significant others to sign up too. And we should scalp some of them tickets. Yup. Anyway...Go Angels!

These Five Words I Swear To You - I'll Be There For You

Piglet sidled up behind Pooh.

'Pooh,' he whispered.

'Yes, Piglet?'

'Nothing,' said Piglet,

taking Pooh's paw.

'I just wanted to be sure of you.'

In the book Lone Survivor, Marcus Luttrell recounts his story of the failed Operation Redwing. There was a point in the sequence of events when Luttrell lost all communication with the home base. The last words that they had heard from any of the member's of the team was, "My guys are dying out here...we need help." Media outlets caught wind of the story, but not all the details and were announcing sans any military confirmation that all the special ops personnel had been killed. Everyone thought he was dead. The part that I really appreciated was his description of the support that his family received as they waited for final word about Marcus' fate. From the book:

What I did not know at the time but learned later was that everyone thought I was dead...By the middle part of that Tuesday evening, people had begun to arrive at the ranch, local people, our friends, people who wanted to be with my mom and dad, just in case there was anything they could do to help. They arrived in trucks, cars, SUVs, and on motorbikes, a steady stream of families who said the same damn thing: We just want to be with you.

He goes on to talk about the lengths that people went to visit with his family, and they all stayed the almost week long ordeal while they waited to hear any news about Marcus. They had upwards of 200 guests, with a number of accomodations imported to support all the people. I just loved the outpouring of concern for the family.

I've mentioned this before on the blog, but one of my favorite lessons ever taught to me by my best friend is the importance of the lesson to mourn with those that mourn, and comfort those that stand in need of comfort. I think some of the most beautiful lines in all of scripture are the ones that talk about how our calling is to succor the weak, lift up the hands which hang down, and strengthen the feeble knees. That's the whole point of the gospel, isn't it?

I love the church because of the emphasis on this doctrine embedded within the very organization of the church itself - a hierarchy of leaders there to support the flock, but also home and visiting teachers, quorums, groups, societies, not to mention families itself. Everything is in place for that very point: we need to be there for each other.

When Christ was in the Garden of Gethsemane carrying out the Atonement, he brought with him Peter, James, and John, not because there was anything they could really do and not even because they needed to witness the event necessarily, but because he just wanted them with him. I think that's why he rebukes them, because he simply needs their company while he carried out the most difficult thing any person has ever done. This is why in the book of Luke it mentions that an angel came as he was praying in the garden, to give him succor. Even the Savior needed the support of others.

As recently as this past week or so I've been feeling lonely myself, and I can't say enough how grateful I am to have such good friends and family who are always so keen to my needs. Sometimes we play both roles of being the comforter and being the the one comforted. I remember when everything went down with my mom, and seeing her just fall apart that night as she sobbed like a child on her bed, and knowing that I had to be her pillar. Then, the following morning, as I saw Dave's dad and was about to unload everything on him, before even saying any words he gave me a big hug while I broke down into tears.

Sometimes you have no idea what to say or what it is that you can do. Most of the time it's enough to just be there. That's how any of us ever make it anyway, getting by with a little help...

OC Mud Ran

Remember months ago when I mentioned wanting to run the OC Mud Run on Saturday July 18th? Thanks, jerks, for letting me sign up by myself. I actually knew several other people who either ran or signed up for it. Unfortunately, the only other person who signed up for the same 10k race I was doing (there were three races that day, two 5ks and a 10k) decided to get sick the day of and not go. No matter...I went and did it by myself. I'd say that I'm the king of doing stuff by myself, but I don't think I can claim that title until I've traveled by myself. I have no problems eating alone, going to movies alone, and I've even been to a concert by myself, so I've got some street cred when it comes to that. I almost went to a concert last night by myself, but I got too tired to make the drive. Seeing as how I'm a loser and went alone, I don't have any pictures of myself, but I'll include some ones I found through the event website. Anyway...

The run was right next to Wild Rivers, with much of the course actually going through Camp Frasier, or whatever it's called now. Years ago I actually went to that camp for a couple summers. It was pretty much my favorite, but I hadn't walked around the grounds since I was like 12, so it was fun seeing everything again.

I have never had a chance to participate in the Camp Pendleton Mud Run so I had nothing to compare it against, but I really enjoyed it in spite of some of the obvious drawbacks - the course was obviously worn out by the time we ran the race, we had to circle for three laps, some of the obstacles were almost non-existent by the last go around, and it even started a half hour late. Now that I'm becoming a veteran of running these races, I've figured out that my pace is in at least the upper half of the runners present, and as a result it's worth it to me to get into the front or a pretty quick pacing group, and to start out quickly so that I don't get stuck behind other slower runners. While walking passed the 5k runners, I noticed a couple of bottlenecks at some barriers that the runners had to climb over so I made sure to just get out the gate as quickly as I could so that I could settle into my own pace.

As a runner, I have pretty good speed and pretty good endurance, but running this race reminded me that I actually have great agility as I flew over walls, through mud pits, and high-stepped through all the tire sections. In soccer, whenever we'd do the unconventional running drills, I always excelled in those. I may not be able to run the fastest or farthest, but I can scamper, crawl, get up and down, and twist and turn with the best of them. I finished the 10k within 48 minutes, which I felt pretty good about considering all the water and mud that weighed me down. I finished in the top 50 of the timed runners. That's my best finish considering that there were 4,000 runners on the day, although I'm not sure how many of those were in the 10k race. What's funny to me is that in the past year, basically since the marathon, I've become more and more competitive in these races. In every one of them I'll start off telling myself to just take it easy, but once I get going I can't stop myself from trying to catch runners in front of me or stay ahead of people that I've picked out in the beginning. It's dumb because I don't train for speed and I'm not naturally fast, but that doesn't stop me from trying to pretend that I am. I thought it was so weird that so many people were running around barriers or avoiding mud pits as they ran. Isn't that the point of doing a mud run in the first place? to just get down and dirty? I ended up just throwing away my shirt and socks, and I almost threw away my shoes too.

The race was fun, but it really just motivates me to get signed up in time for the Camp Pendleton Mud Run. Everyone at the race couldn't stop talking about how great that one is, especially compared to this one. That one doesn't feature plastic tape that you can run through and push out of your way. It has taut ropes instead. It has a fire hose at one point and everyone has to brave it while descending a mud hill. It just sounds so legit.

This race was a fun one. I'm all for these adventure type races. And next year I'm doing that Pendleton run, whether you losers are in or out.

Can't Make You Love Me

Are you ready to take a stroll into my tortured past? While going through some of the documents I have on my computer last week when I was working on avoiding my thesis, I came across something I had written following one of my more painful breakups. I had forgotten that I had even written this and with it came a torrent of old, sad memories. I've been feeling a little melancholy recently anyway, so I guess it's fitting.

It's actually a little hard to put this on here. I'm sensitive about it because it's so raw and personal to me, but I think it's an interesting read. Try not to judge too harshly. I think I was listening to a lot of The Cure at that time:

“So that’s it then?” I asked as I stood up, the only stinging, yet pathetic rebuke I could muster. She sat silent, unmoving. The gravity of this conversation seeming now to hit her as it had already struck me. My whole life for the last several years wrapped up in one single person, coming to an end, here, in this restaurant? Deep in my heart I despairingly acknowledged that this evening will probably be my last memory of being in her presence.

She still refused to move. She sat, frozen by the weight of the moment. I couldn’t stand it, I had to leave, but seeing her empty stare tugged on my years of devotion to her. Every emotion I could possibly feel in that moment teamed within me, creating a torrent of physical despair that I had nowhere to release. I wanted to scream, to yell, to hit, to explode - anything more than my quiet indignant rise from the table that did not even disturb the air, nor the conversations of any of the other restaurant patrons. Oh, to be anyone else in this establishment but me. At other tables, some couples were probably on first dates, some of them were probably married and just out for a weekend night, but at my table I was picking up the check for the last meal I would ever have with her. My gesture had formally ended this conversation, which cut her, wounds which consequently only returned upon me.

Was there nothing I could do to inflict any sort of anguish upon her that wouldn’t just reflect back onto me? No. Not after so much, not after spending years of fashioning one consciousness between the two of us. It is a strange thing, the hive-like mind that develops between people who are so dedicated to one another; any emotion that one experiences, happy or sad, joy or pain, is automatically felt by the other. This night would be no different.

We walked to the car, silent, leaving the restaurant with no remnants of our meal and without the comfortable familiarity we enjoyed when we had walked in. We had long ago seen passed the consolation of friendship that cannot form after the intensity of the relationship we had once enjoyed. As I opened her door, she stood frozen again, but tearful defeat hung in her eyes. I selfishly wondered how this could wrench her heart so much when this was her decision. I could only focus on my own raw emotion. Any objective understanding I might normally have became opaque from the cloud of pain that engulfed me.

We drove, parked, and then talked. None of the words mattered. The only memory I will carry with me of this night is how I did not want the several pain-filled and tearful hours to pass us both by as quickly as they did. Even when left with only the option of sadness to hold onto, it was better than the void that her absence would soon leave me. The evolution of emotional anguish into a physiological sensation was now complete.

I wrapped her in my arms and agony as we said goodbye. This embrace, what had grown to feel like the perfect combination of us together, would form a mold against which every other person would be compared, consciously or not. While I burrowed my head into her shoulder and then her neck, she kissed my neck and then my head, the last time I would feel her lips on me.

I left for home, utterly alone, at about 12:30am. The thought of lying awake on my bed with my dismantled heart terrified me, so I called Dave. Trying desperately to hold my voice steady, I asked if I could come over, but my stoicism soon failed me – my voice cracked and I had to sniff. I arrived to find that he and his wife had just gone up to bed. Always accommodating, he supplied me with company and words, words that helped to soothe even though the distraction from the rest of the night was minimal at best. It would be enough to allow me to go sleep, to wake up to my new and uninvited life.

Because the music I listen to so often matches my mood, when I go through these sad times, I always return to the sad songs. The saddest one, I think, is Bonnie Raitt's I Can't Make You Love Me. Some time ago, I read about the inspiration for the song. It turns out that the writer had read an article about a man who had been arrested for getting drunk and shooting his girlfriend's car. When asked by the judge if he had learned anything from the experience, the defendant replied, "I learned, Your Honor, that you can't make a woman love you if she don't." Is that not so sad? I think this is just about the saddest song ever. I can't even listen to it all the way through. It's just too depressing.

Anyway, here's the song:

Pageant of the Masters

Last weekend a friend of mine scored some free tickets to Pageant of the Masters down in Laguna Beach and invited me along. I've always thought of this as one of the quintessential OC events that everyone should experience if they live down here during the summers. I've always wanted to go, but I think I always realized that too late in the season when all the tickets end up getting sold out.

Prior to the show the spectators get to walk around an outdoor display of art from local artists. I'm no connossieur, but from what I did see a lot of it was very impressive. Unfortunately, I had some trouble with parking and showed up with little time before the beginning of the show so I didn't get to see as much as I would have liked.

The audience is seated in an outdoor amphitheater placed against the setting of Laguna canyon, less than a mile away from the beach. It's an awesome setting. Is there anyone who dislikes summer nights on the beach? The theater has a main stage with a couple of different spots for additional pieces while the big pieces get set up on the main stage. A live orchestra plays while a narrator talks about the various pieces, the artists, and then the art periods as well. It provides a good art lesson, but I was mostly surprised at how entertaining and witty the narration itself ended up being. The art on display covers a lot of famous work done by Dali, Da Vinci, Gauguin, Monet, Rodin, and many others. I wasn't familiar with many of the works, but I still recognized a good handful of what was on display.

If you don't know, the show itself is basically a living display of various works of art. It is much cooler than it actually sounds, even if it sounds pretty neat to begin with. The detail and likenesses that they are able to portray are really amazing. We had seats in the back, but I felt like I was still able to get a good view of the displays. It would have been nice to have binoculars just to be able to appreciate the depth that a painting, which is two-dimensional, take on the additional dimension. It's crazy to think about the detail that goes into getting costumes and doing make up that so perfectly matches the artist's conception in the original work. My favorite part of the whole thing was probably right before the first intermission when they did a series of movie posters from the 40s and 50s, or whenever it was because they had some surprises and dumb jokes involved.

The show goes for about two hours. Parking is horrendous. Go early to see the art on display beforehand, but also to take in the live music and other attractions that they have available. As I walked around that night and looked at all the different people in attendance, I couldn't help but think about how high society having a taste for art is. It's kind of ironic just because while those appreciating the art so often are sipping on wine and wearing nice clothes, artists themselves usually have such a struggle making ends meet. The producers of art get so little of the monetary benefit that the consumers of art have available.

Being from down here, I forget just how renowned Laguna Beach is for all the homegrown art available. While selling security systems a couple of years ago, I ran into Ruth Mayer who happens to be a grand master (whatever that is), but she was commissioned to do a painting of Pope John Paul II, if that's any indication of how big she is. But it's crazy to think how many of those people are around here. Anyway, check it out if you have a chance. You can get cheap tickets for $20, and if you bring binoculars, it should be just as good as sitting up front since you're not watching a moving display anyway.

UPDATE: If you're interested, check out some of Ruth Mayer's work here.

Church In California

I realize that my blog has been pretty suck-tastic as of late. I'm working on it. I've got some posts a-brewin'. Maybe now that I'm seriously considering working on my thesis my increased computer time will lead to using the blog as a distraction again like it has been in the past. Anyway...

I have been home now for a few weeks. It will now be four weeks by this Friday, which kind of blows me away because it feels like it has passed by very slowly, but also very quickly if that makes any kind of sense. Being back here in the OC as a Young Single Adult (YSA) reminds me of how much I enjoy my life up in Utah. Church is just so different down here. Sundays feel non-stop with having church in the late afternoon, followed by some kind of dinner, and then a fireside. All of a sudden 1-9pm gets taken up and Sunday is already gone. Here, the older YSAs don't participate as much in activities, so when I go to an FHE, it feels like there are only 20-23 year olds in attendance. I haven't been to institute yet, but I know it's even more exaggerated there. In Utah I'm very aware of my age, but somehow being here as a single LDS person makes me aware of it, but in a very negative way. Weird how that runs contrary to what I might normally think about the situation.

You know what's nice about a student ward near BYU? Everyone feels like an all-star church member. Today in class, neither of the teachers prepared their lessons using much (if any) material from the teacher's manuals, and so the lessons felt very elementary. Today we had the Wentworth Letter from Joseph Smith as the topic in Elder's Quorum, which should have been a really cool lesson, but instead turned out to be a recital of the Articles of Faith. I ended up just reading the lesson in the book and leaving when I was done. It's amazing to me how much harder it is for me to not just skip out after sacrament meeting because the classes seem so ill-prepared. That's not always the case, but it certainly was today.

I think the hardest part about being a single church member in my stage of life down here is that I just feel really out of place. I've had this conversation with several other people (at least four that I can think of off the top of my head) and that seems to be a common sentiment, which is really kind of sad.

There is also a part of me that wonders if it's just a matter of becoming really involved in the ward and activities that are going on. Last week I volunteered for everything that I could, but it feels like I have to turn a blind eye to a lot of things that would really bother me. I don't really remember feeling like it required so much to get invested into church. Normally it's something that I pretty easily gravitate to, but that hasn't been the case down here so far. It's been weird.

This post is a lot of poo-pooing everything and I probably need to just change my attitude, but I am definitely glad that this is only a temporary thing for me. I love my ward and how I feel in Utah. If it weren't for family and really close friends here, I don't think I could handle this scene at this point in my life. So if I haven't seen you yet, probably just you Andersons, let's hang out because I'm not sure how long I'll be staying.

Just putting that out there.

Pool Domination

Words can't describe how much I love this video. Every guy watching this is thinking, "oh man, I wish that I had done that first" and all the girls are wondering why we're so fascinated with this kind of thing. Posting a video set to punk music is awesome. It just is. The one they do at about 1:21 is so sweet.

Stimulus: Too Much, Too Late

This comes way of Carpe Diem from a post earlier this week, which received this piece from Bruce Bartlett over at Forbes. An excerpt:

The problem is that Obama was always much too optimistic about how quickly stimulus spending could have an effect. As I warned in a January column, it takes far more time for it to impact the economy than most people think. Moreover, not all government spending is necessarily stimulative, and the parts of the stimulus package that provide real stimulus are among the slowest to come online.

According to CBO Director Douglas Elmendorf, by the end of fiscal year 2009, which ends on Sept. 30, about a third of the least stimulative spending will have been spent vs. only 11% of the highly stimulative spending. Even at the end of fiscal year 2010, we will have spent only 47% of the highly stimulative spending. By the end of fiscal year 2011, more than a quarter of the stimulative spending will still remain unspent.

Some years ago, I did a study of every anti-recession program in the postwar era. I found that they invariably impacted on the economy too late to really help. There were many reasons for this. First, economists were slow to see a recession coming and often didn't see one at all until we were already well into it.

Then it took time to convince policymakers to do something and get legislation enacted. By the time a countercyclical program was signed into law, the recession was always over. Consequently, the stimulus stimulated when the economy was already on the upswing. The result was that these programs stimulated inflation more than they stimulated jobs and growth.

Many years ago John Maynard Keynes warned against using public works for stimulus for precisely this reason--they are too hard to reverse once the need for them has passed. With many economists already warning about inflation coming back in the near future, the ultimate legacy of the stimulus bill may be to make it harder to tighten fiscal policy when it will be needed.

The author further points out that no stimulus plan enacted since WWII has ever been successful because of the lags associated with recognizing the economic downturn, the time it takes to draft the legislation, and how long the package takes to go into effect. What ends up happening is that if the stimulus does have a positive impact, it only adds to an economy that has already corrected itself. If government had refrained from trying to influence the naturally occurring market forces in the first place, then we would still experience the upturn in the economy minus the huge debt we are accumulating from the stimulus.

Larry Kudlow notes:

Incidentally, the federal budget deficit update for June was horrible. Year to date the deficit broke past $1 trillion. Now, June is always a surplus month. But this year it’s a deficit month.

We are cruising toward a $2 trillion budget deficit for fiscal year 2009. Federal spending is up 23 percent against the year-ago level. Recessionary revenues are plunging; they are down 16 percent. Personal tax receipts are off 22 percent and, get this, corporate taxes are off an astounding 57 percent.

Government, just get out of the way.

Lone Survivor

I just finished up reading the book Lone Survivor by Marcus Luttrell, which is his account of Operation Redwing, and what turned out to be the largest loss of special forces life in one mission. My brother usually gives me a book for birthdays or Christmas, and I never seem to get around to reading them until months or even years later, but the books he gives me always turn out to be really great. He gave me The Godfather twice (unknowingly) and that turned out to be one of my favorite books ever. The first time he gave that to me was at least four years ago and I didn't read it until last summer.

When I first saw this book, I put it in the stack of other books that I would eventually get around to down the road. Being that I've been so successfully avoiding my thesis work, and living at the house where I have all my books stored, I pulled this one out and thought I should start working on it. I finished it in about three days.

There are a lot of direct quotes and stories that I'd like to pull out from the book, but this interview with Marcus Luttrell gives a good synopsis of the story. I'll save the other excerpts for another day. Whenever I read these military stories I always think about how I should enlist. It would be a great way to take care of my loans, right? We'll see. Anyway, check out the interview if you're interested in learning more about the book.

Government Intervention=Bad

Here are a couple of posts that I thought were interesting. This one comes from Larry Kudlow, and this one is actually a report from the US House of Representatives and how the role of government in creating more affordable housing spurred the global financial crisis.

First, some excerpts from Kudlow:

There’s no question that current government policies for taxes, spending, and regulation are causing the U.S. to lose competitiveness in the global race for capital, prosperity, and growth.

Of course, China has been moving in the direction of free-market capitalism for years. To some extent, this shows the positive benefits of America’s free-trade policies and its open-mindedness in helping nurture not only China growth, but also middle-class prosperity worldwide.

But what’s particularly galling about Obamanomics is that we may well be losing our competitive edge with Europe. While Europe is ever so slightly moving toward Reagan and Thatcher, the U.S. is shifting toward an overtaxed and overregulated model that smacks of François Mitterrand. That’s something no one should want to tolerate.

Heavy government controls at home, along with an income-leveling social policy couched in economic-recovery terms, is no way to run a railroad. At the simple stroke of a computer key, world investment flows to its most hospitable destination. That includes a reliable currency. But in President Bush’s last year and President Obama’s first, the U.S. has become a less-hospitable destination for global capital. That should worry everybody.

And then from the HOR report:

The housing bubble that burst in 2007 and led to a financial crisis can be traced back tofederal government intervention in the U.S. housing market intended to help provide homeownership opportunities for more Americans. This intervention began with two government-backed corporations, Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac, which privatized their profits but socialized their risks, creating powerful incentives for them to act recklessly and exposing taxpayers to tremendous losses. Government intervention also created “affordable” but dangerous lending policies which encouraged lower down payments, looser underwriting standards and higher leverage. Finally, government intervention created a nexus of vested interests – politicians, lenders and lobbyists – who
profited from the “affordable” housing market and acted to kill reforms. In the short run, thisgovernment intervention was successful in its stated goal – raising the national homeownership rate. However, the ultimate effect was to create a mortgage tsunami that wrought devastation on the American people and economy. While government intervention was not the sole cause of the financial crisis, its role was significant and hasreceived too little attention.

Risky mortgage lending, particularly loans with very low down payments, contributed directly to the rise of a housing bubble. Had this risky lending been contained within thelow-income segment of the market targeted by politicians advocating more “innovation” in “affordable lending,” the damage to the wider economy might have been minimal. However, these “innovations” in “flexible” loans products spread beyond just affordable lending into the entire U.S. mortgage market. The lure of reduced underwriting standards held true not just for borrowers of modest income but for those at all income levels. Although the erosion of mortgage underwriting standards began in Washington within itiatives like the CRA as a way to reduce “barriers to homeownership,” this trend inevitably spread to the wider mortgage market. One observer noted:

Bank regulators, who were in charge of enforcing CRA standards, could hardly disapprove of similar loans made to better qualified borrowers. This is exactly what occurred.

Borrowers – regardless of income level – took advantage of the erosion of underwriting standards that started with government affordable housing policy. As one study observed,“[o]ver the past decade, most, if not all, the products offered to subprime borrowers have also been offered to prime borrowers.”24 For example, Alt-A and adjustable-rate mortgages became incredibly popular with borrowers – who were generally not low-income – engaging in housing speculation. As home prices continued their dizzying rise, many people decided to cash in by buying a house with an adjustable rate mortgage featuring a low introductory teaser rate set to increase after a few years.These borrowers, confident in the oft-cited assertion that U.S. home values had never before fallen in the aggregate, planned to sell or refinance their investment before the mortgage rate adjusted upward, pocketing the difference between the initial purchase price and the subsequent appreciation in value. However, buyers failed to grasp the effect of a government policy that had quietly eroded the prudential limits on mortgage leverage, creating a dangerous speculative bubble.

As the size of down payments for mortgages fell, so too did borrowers’ equity stake inthe homes they purchased. This had two important effects. First, it eliminated the borrower’s “skin in the game,” increasing the likelihood that he or she would walk away from the mortgage if times got tough. It also increased the borrower’s leverage (debt) as measured by the Loan-to-Value ratio.25 This leverage allows borrowers to purchase more expensive houses than they would otherwise be able to afford at a given level of income. It was this process of steadily increasing leverage that drove the complete decoupling of home prices from Americans’ income and fed the growth of the housing bubble. As the average down payment shrank and leverage correspondingly increased, the amount of mortgage debt relative to borrowers’ income increased. This increasing leverage in turn eroded the power of supply and demand to restrain irrational price increases. In a normal housing market, free of government intervention, an increase in home prices would havebeen restrained when the marginal, or next, home seller tried to charge a price too highfor prospective borrowers to afford. This home seller would have been forced to cut his or her unreasonable price.

Once government-sponsored efforts to decrease down payments spread to the wider market, home prices became increasingly untethered from any kind of demand limited by borrowers’ ability to pay. Instead, borrowers could just make smaller down payments and take on higher debt, allowing home prices to continue their unrestrained rise.

Government actions distorted the housing market, yet advocates of affordable housing policies, such as Congressman Barney Frank (D-MA), have asserted that those who criticize these policies seek to place blame for the financial crisis solely on borrowers of modest means.27 This misses the mark entirely. In fact, responsibility for the erosion of mortgage lending standards, which began with government affordable housing policy, rests squarely on the policy makers who advocated these ill-conceived policies in the first place. Borrowers quite naturally responded to the incentives they were given, irrespective of their socioeconomic status, and risky lending spread to the wider mortgage market.

I think those last several paragraphs give a really good explanation of how the housing bubble was created. If you are looking for the name of a politician to really dislike, Barney Frank should be at the top of your list. Unless you really follow politics, you probably have never heard of him, but I can't think of any American politician who I fundemantally disagree with more than that man. He could very well be despicable. And this is coming from someone who has Boxer and Feinstein as my state senators.

Government does has its place in the economy, but these two articles highlight the inherent problems it creates for its citizens when it begins to overstep its boundaries.

Wednesday Night Soccer

One of the best parts about being home is getting to play Wednesday night soccer. Until about a week ago I had forgotten just how much I used to look forward to it. It's kind of one of those things that you know in your mind, and your memory is clear about how much you enjoy it, but you just really don't fully remember until you become immersed again in the activity and become fully wrapped up in it.

I don't know what the equivalent is for women, but hopefully there is something that they can enjoy together as much as guys enjoy playing sports together. Last night I totally got nailed in the face with an elbow, and granted, some guys let that set them off, but when it happened to me, I just shrugged it off, knew that I was in his space, and didn't even let my bleeding lip or watering eyes break my gait. What other activities can you have such a blatant display of aggression, and suffer no ill effects from?

It's awesome because of all the obvious exercise benefits, but what I love about soccer as opposed to running or any other typical work out is that I can get completely lost in the game. It doesn't matter what else is going on in my life - all that matters is what's happening in the moment and what I have to do to win.

We play indoors, in a carpeted room in the stake center. It's 4 v 4, with two little wastebins setup and the first team to two goals wins and the losing team has to sit. We have a minimum of 10 guys, with as many as 25 or so in the summer months. Sometimes the wait with that many people becomes excruciating so competitive fires become even more fierce as the incentive to win becomes heightened.

I love watching my best friend play. He's just an incredibly creative player. He regularly makes plays happen that guys are lucky to have once or twice in an evening. I love that all my close guy friends play. There is some talking that goes on in the beginning, and then when you're on the stage, but for the most part you become lost in the flow of the game, even when you're not playing. You're always just itching to get back on. At least I am, anyway. I love that I can keep up with the high school kids that sometimes come because it means that I am in pretty good shape, and that I haven't lost much quickness. It's unbelievable how much quickness you lose from late teens to late twenties. I love that while I'm not always the most skilled player out there, I'm always one of the hardest working. I don't put my head down when I miss a pass, and I don't pout about fouls. I love being tough, and not asking for play to stop if I get in the face with an elbow, for instance. I don't know how so many soccer players are okay with being so delicate. I understand it's to get calls a lot of times, but there's a lot to be said for being intimidating, too. Toughness=manly, and manly=badass, a lot of times. Know what I mean? And it's nice to think sometimes, I'm a bad man.

I think all guys need that outlet. For some it's playing videogames together, and for others it's playing sports. I hope girls have that too. It's totally what I plan my week around. I just love it to death. Love the camarederie, the competition, all of it.

Saturday In The Park, I Think It Was The Fourth Of July

This year's Summer Christmas was not the best ever, but it was still pretty good, I must say. I don't know if anything will ever rival this 4th of July from two years ago, but that will always be one of my favorite stories. I'm a little saddened by the fact that after two years we have already forgotten to do the drunk-run reenactment.

We visited Newport again this year, which was nice for the most part. The weather was very compliant, and even with our smaller than usual group, we still had a good time. Although we might have to change venues next year because it's getting just a little too crazy down in those upper streets of Newport. It has probably become a little too adult-focused down there for all of the budding families we have in tow now.

The best part had to be the Angels game that night. They started playing that Chicago song, of which the title of this post pays tribute, and I just felt so content. I wonder if anyone else noticed that song playing and thought how perfectly appropriate it was. Sadly, it was my first game of the year. I know. Crazy, right? Especially considering that I was able to go to opening day the last two years in a row. The Angels went down early, but blew up in the later innings which was nicely punctuated by Vlad hitting a home run in the 8th to seal it.

Maybe even better than the Angels game itself is the addition of this little guy to this year's festivities:
For some more Mason pics on this day, visit this link. No doubt that the best part of being home is the wealth of chitlins around here. I think I'm starting to develop my baby-soothing technique. It's impossible to not become attached to that little guy. Last night he started crying, and I had never seen the pouty lower lip and it just melted me.

Anyway, the fireworks display was great. The day ended very nicely. I love this holiday and I love this country. What a blessing it is to be able to call myself an American. Hope you all enjoyed it.

Breathing

Only just last Thursday have I begun to start running again. I wasn't really nervous about my hamstring when I was playing soccer the night before because the muscle groups are in use are totally different. However, I was anxious about how the leg would hold up just going on a normal run. I was pleasantly surprised at how easy it was to get right back into a regular pace with running. I worried as I pushed the speed and distance back to almost normal levels. I just kept waiting for the twitch that would signal that I would have to take more time off and not even worry about trying to train for the Long Beach Marathon in October. But I was able to do it without much trouble. The most pleasing part was realizing that my breathing was not affected by the layoff.

I have been thinking a lot about breathing recently. In a lecture that I heard earlier in the year, one of my professors was talking about how there is a certain amount of satisfaction and wellness that is derived from simply taking a deep breath (I guess other than the fact that breathing promotes living).

In the last year or so I have been wanting to take up both swimming and yoga, albeit for mostly different purposes, but one main draw is how each of them would help me better be able to control my breathing. I was talking to someone recently about how one of the hardest parts about swimming for me is learning how to breathe correctly. He mentioned that it eventually gets to a point where it becomes automatic, much like it is when you are completely at rest.

The act of breathing is interesting in the fact that it can be either something that is consciously monitored, as it is when you start out swimming or running, or it can be entirely subconscious and automatic. I want yoga because of the soft muscle tissue work that it provides that would offset the running and weightlifting I do, but also primarily for the meditation, breathing, and relaxation techniques that it provides.

With people that I know that deal with anxiety issues, the most common complaint about when the anxiety surfaces is how it becomes such a struggle to breathe. In a somewhat similar vein, I was watching the Wimbledon final this morning and while trying to compose himself, I could actually see Andy Roddick collect himself by taking deep breaths before each point, especially each serve. Learning how to control breathing in these examples helps these people regulate themselves in order to function properly.

I think breathing can be equated to righteous living. As breathing itself delivers oxygen that is delivered by the circulatory system to fuel the brain, organs, and muscles, righteous living provides the condition whereby we can experience peace, joy, and contentment. Sometimes breathing is automatic where it requires no thought and no conscious effort. Other times, it demands every bit of concentration and effort that we have available to us. In each case, breathing allows for harmony to prevail within the organism.

Occasionally, we stumble along - we take many missteps or the same ones over and over. Regaining our footing then becomes entirely a matter of stepping outside of ourselves and taking a deep breath that will lead to returning it to an automatic act.