ResT IN PeaCe

My mind is been going all over the place today. The death of a friend will do that. It wasn't a close friend, in fact I had never met him. He was part of the Comic Geek Speak crew and community.  His name is Jamie D. His name is adorning my Facebook wall like no other name has. I think that says a lot about the man. Most of these have the term "rest in peace," or RIP for short. We've all seen or wrote those letters hundreds of times. Today however, I've been thinking about the words that they represent. Unfortunately, Jamie's story is not unique. Jamie passed away today after a five-year battle with cancer. The type of cancer doesn't matter, the treatment he sought doesn't matter, the results are still the same. He wasn't the first to die from cancer, nor, sadly, will he be the last. People die from it every day. When you hear people talk about loved ones who have passed away from this disease, it's usually with words like, "he lost his battle" those words are usually very very accurate. And that brings me to the letters.

R I P

As I said before, we see those letters all the time, and we know the words they represent. Today though, I guess I have a deeper understanding of their meaning.

REST - I think of times that I have done anything strenuous. Whether it be hiking, swimming, working in the yard, playing sports, or anything else that wears you out. There's nothing like sitting down to rest. It's amazing how good it makes your body feel. Even just after a long day, there's something special about flopping on the couch or crawling in bed, and resting. I don't think however, that Jamie, or anyone else who happens to be suffering from that horrible disease, especially those in the final stages, did much resting. He may have been in bed, but I doubt he was getting a good rest. There's that "battle," remember. It doesn't call a "cease fire" when someone is laying there in bed. In fact, by then it's raging more fiercely than ever.

IN PEACE - A few days ago I was in a hotel. I was lying in bed. I was "resting" but it was not very peaceful. The people in the next room were noisy. Like, really noisy. The television was loud, the talking was loud, all of that. It's hard not to hear it in hotels. I also think about times when I wasn't feeling good. Like when you lay down when you're having an upset stomach. You're trying to rest, but if anything but peaceful. And there are times I've been in the most peaceful of surroundings, such as in the mountains, and sweating and breathing heavy because of how hard I'm working. It's very hard to really rest in a non peaceful environment.

REST IN PEACE - I guess maybe that's why this is the sendoff we give to people who passed away. They have, as Paul said, fought the good fight. They deserve rest… In peace. No more battles to fight. No more mountains to climb. No more struggles to overcome. Those are the things left to us, left to the living. What we wish for a loved one when they pass, is a rest, and peace. So to you, Jamie D, to all those whose race is over, to all whose battle is finished, to all whose time has come, I say simply rest in peace.

Rest ... In Peace.

mOre Than juSt lOOKIng FOrWArD

     My grandpa Montgomery was a great example to me in a lot of ways and I learned a great deal from him. He taught me the importance of hard work. He use magic to entertain us. And I never doubted his love of the gospel. And, to be honest, there are lessons he taught me that every time I think of, I smirk. There is one lesson he taught me, however, that I think about every single time that I mow my lawn.

     When my grandpa was still alive he had a nice garden out behind their house. Each summer we grandchildren would help him with different chores. Some of us helped a lot more than others. I helped build walls, plant seeds, pull weeds, and irrigate each week. (though often that latter activity turned into a giant water fight with me and my friends.)

     Each spring we would get grandpa's small tractor and get the garden ready by tilling, disking and plowing. Once the ground was ready, we would dig the trenches for watering. I remember the year the grandpa finally let me drive the tractor for this part.  As I drove up the garden trying to dig the trench, I would look back to see if the plow was still in the dirt, then look back ahead. As any of you who would've ever tried this know, that's not the way to make a straight row, and mine was anything but straight. Grandpa told me, "stop looking behind you and look ahead."

     I tried that, and my next couple rows were a little better. But still far from straight. That's when he taught me the lesson. He said "Brian, you can't just look right in front of the tractor. You have to have a goal insight."  He pointed up to the top of the garden where the ditch was that would have the irrigation water in it and the small floodgates that would let water go down each trench in the garden. He said "do you see where the floodgates are?" I told him I did. He said "keep your eyes on the floodgate that you're going to. If you do that, your rows will be straight." I tried what he'd suggested, and I'll be darned if he wasn't right. My next row was nearly straight. It wasn't as perfect as grandpa's row, but it was so much better than my first. And, within the next couple of tries, I had it down. My rows were straight. Every time. I still think about that lesson every time I'm all my lawn. I pick a spot on the fence and I go towards it. I make a straight line, and I think about my grandpa, and I smile.

     In our lives, we can learn a lot from my grandpa taught me that day. If we are constantly looking behind us, will never see where were going, and our paths will veer from where we want it to be every single time.  If we're looking directly in front of us, we can still lose our way. However, when we have a goal in sight, when we look at where we want to end up, our lines are straight and true. A momentary glance right in front of us to be aware of obstacles is okay, as long as you quickly move your eyes back to your goal. The scriptures teach us of a straight and narrow path, and whenever I hear that, I think of grandpa and I appreciate the meaning a little more. I think that lesson he taught.  "Keep your eyes on where you want to go, and you get there." The way may indeed be narrow, but with your eyes on your goal, your row will be straight. Thanks, Grandpa!

PractICE DoesN'T maKe PerFEct

I left home again yesterday. I do this every month. Leaving I mean.  And thankfully, it doesn't get any easier.  I've had this job for over 15 years now, and this particular part of it for three.  Over the past three years I leave the first of every month and I'm gone for two weeks. Away from my wife, kids, friends, family and everything else from back home. While I'm away, I'm very busy. There are early days and late nights and long hours. But, when I sit down to think about it, I'm grateful for that. You see, when I'm busy it's harder to be homesick. You'd think after all this time that I wouldn't get home sick, but you'd be wrong. It's always nice to enjoy Sunday relaxing in the hotel, but those are also the days when I get the bluest. If not for a phone call the home, I could go the entire day and never make a sound. Conversely though, if not for that phone call home, I could go in entire day and never hear a sound. Never hear the sound of my wonderful wife's voice. Never hear my children. I love my job. I mean, I really do. I love dealing with people, being on the road, seeing new places, and everything else that is involved in my job. However, being on the road and being away from my family are two different things. I tell people that all the time. If traveling wasn't two weeks at a time, the way used to be, I’d love this job even more. Maybe someday.  Maybe.  Someday. Until that day arrives though, this is reality. Two weeks away, two weeks at home, two weeks away, etc.  Saying goodbye to the family never gets easy no matter how often I do it. And I pray it never does!

TIcK tACk (thE scARY tOOl, NOT The caNDy)

I was listening to a podcast recently where the hosts got to talking about scary movies and movies that scared them when they were younger. It made me think of an experience I had when I was an early teenager. My two best friends growing up, Duane Park and Darin Bair and I had all decided to sleep down to my grandma’s on one Friday night. Now, this is something we did pretty regularly. My grandma and grandpa owned a preschool and it was fun to sleep out in the school all by ourselves, play games, and just goof off as early teens do. This night was going to be fun for us because there was a show on television that we all wanted to see. The late night movie was showing the movie “Alligator.” This is a movie about a giant alligator living in the sewers, in case the title did not give it away. One thing that we always enjoyed was getting scared. It didn't matter whether was slasher movies or psychological thrillers, as long as it scared us. (though it was usually the slashers) This was a very early in our scary movie watching careers. We were laying on the hide-a-bed watching a small black and white TV which we put on a table at the end of the bed. Behind this was a giant window. Now, when I say behind us, I don't mean behind us and above us I mean directly behind us. What we also didn't know what's up behind that window was my grandfather. My grandfather, bless his heart, I decided to teach his young grandson and his friends a lesson. He fashioned what he called a “TickTack.” (No idea why he called it that) He had taken an old wooden thread spool and cut notches in the edge of it so that it looked very similar to a gear. He then put a nail through the middle and wound string around the spool. When you place the spool against a window and yank on the thread, the edged of the spool make a terrible racket against the glass. Back inside the school, Brian, Duane and Darin were fully engrossed in Alligator. As a commercial came up, I looked over at Duane and said, “What would you do if you looked up in the window behind us and saw a giant alligator?” His reply was, “you mean that window right there?” and then all three of us leaned our heads backwards toward the window. I have no idea how my grandfather did this, but he chose that exact moment as three young teenagers turned and looked up at the window to pull the string thereby making the spool make it tick-tock racket. This particular window had the added effect of being a little loose so it rattled even more than normal. The next thing I remember was being in a different place. I was under the bed.  I'm sure I moved there under my own power, though to this day I have no memory of how I did it. Another friend was in another room and still moving, and I believe bed the third friend had also dove off the hide-a-bed and was cowering underneath it with me.  I don’t remember anything else about that night.  I don’t remember what we ate.  I don’t remember what games we played. I don’t even remember the end of the movie. All I remember is being scared. Probably more scared than I had ever been in my life to that point. Strangely, it’s a very fond memory. I have been scared much more on other occasions, but this one always brings a smile to my face.

OpPosITes AttRACt

I'm in Albuquerque this evening and this city always makes me think of a great friend of mine, so decided to write about another “brother” of mine. When I first met this man I’m ashamed to say I pre judged him on looks alone and could not have been more wrong. I hope I may have learned something from that. As I’ve mentioned before, there are a group of us friends that have played D&D for many, many years now. A few years ago one of our group brought a new player to play. When I first met Russ he had a shaved head, earrings, rings, and I’m guessing bare feet. (I say that because I know him so much better now, that it’s a pretty safe bet) He was loud and sure of himself. I remember thinking, “Dave, what have you brought into our group.” As time went by, he became a real part of the group. My initial judgments proved to be wrong. VERY WRONG.  Yes, he was still loud and sure of himself (and at times VERY opinionated), and he still looked the same way, but I learned about the man behind all that.  We actually became pretty good friends. Then something happened…

            I ask my friends quite often if they want to go with me on my sales trips. Almost always the answer is “no.”  I totally understand that. It’s hard to get away even for the teachers in the group, but I still ask. Well, one time I asked and Russ said he would love to. I was kind of taken aback. We were friends, but I still didn’t consider him a CLOSE friend. But the offer was made and accepted so what the heck. To be honest, I don’t remember where we went, but I think it was Las Vegas. This turned out to be the first of MANY trips that Russ would accompany me on. I really got to know the man behind the shaved head, bare feet, and kilts. (oh, did I fail to mention the kilts?) We have spent probably hundreds of hours in cars and hotels talking about all things geeky and not geeky. We make up games. He introduces me to music that I NEVER would have heard if not for him. (I drive and he picks music from his massive collection) We stop so he can take pictures of everything from a field of flowers to an old barn. We debate which one of us is the bigger geek. (I win that one until his father in law’s name comes up. Oh, his father in law’s name is Bruce Wayne. How awesome is that? J ) We stop to eat at places that I would normally drive by. He has taught me to not “pass by” life. He has taught me to see the beauty in the world around me. He has taught me to not judge based on looks alone. In fact, one of the things I enjoy the most is walking into a store about 3 seconds behind him when he’s wearing a kilt. The looks he gets from locals (especially in small towns) are priceless.

            Another thing that’s interesting about us is how different we are in a lot of ways. I’ve always been a pretty conservative Republican while he’s a liberal Democrat. We talk politics and though I often feel wanting in knowledge in that field, we still have wonderful conversations where we share ideas and opinions without the fear of any anger or animosity. This has been a real blessing of sorts during this election season. If I have a question that I want a liberal view on without the propaganda I can ask. Differing views are just that. There is never any anger or bitterness between us. I’ll also admit that he’s a lot more willing to try things (especially foods) than I am. I enjoy trying new things, but I do have limits, whereas he’ll try most anything. Chocolate with jalapeños in it or hagas, it doesn’t matter. (though he has vowed to get me to try hagas)

            Another great thing is how well our families get along. His girls are much older than my kids, but they really get along almost like family. My kids get excited when they hear that we’re going to Russ and Tamby’s house or that they’re coming to our home. I’ve heard the term “brother from another mother” before and it always made me chuckle, but that really is a great way to describe him.  

FrIEnds I'Ve neVer MEt

     I think the internet is a wonderful thing. It’s made the world a much smaller place. It’s made it possible to make friends you never would have otherwise.  Let me give you a couple of examples. Once, while in the hotel in one of my many visits to Las Vegas, I was surfing for geeky related things and I found something called micro heroes.  These were small gif files of superheroes with heads too large for their bodies.  I was enthralled. These things seemed easy enough for me to make and there were entire web sights dedicated to these little guys. I’m a very visual person. I love looking and things and designing things and Micro Heroes gave me an outlet for both. I started making my own and “collecting” (a real habit of mine) ones that others had made.  It was then that I discovered that there was a group of people, a club if you will, who shared their creations with each other. I signed up for my first internet “group.” I would receive emails from Robert, Kat, Matthew, and a whole slew of others who were just as geeky as me and who just wanted to show off their latest Micro. We talked to each other through these emails and told each other how cool their latest work was. It was nice to have “friends” who were interested in similar things. On one trip to Phoenix I actually got together with Robert for lunch. I remember a coworker marveling that I would just go to lunch with a complete stranger. I told him that it wasn’t really a complete stranger. After all, we’ve shared Micro Heroes and we both liked comics. He still had trouble grasping.

     Anyway, that was my first foray into an online community of any kind, but it wouldn’t be my last. Set the time machine forward a few years and my wife bought me an MP3 player for Father’s day or our Anniversary (I forget which it was) and within a few weeks I had discovered these things called podcasts. I could find programs on the internet that talked about comic books??? That was crazy! I remember the first one I downloaded was a podcast called Raging Bullets. All DC comics! I was hooked. The hosts would talk about DC Comics, but the also talked about being part of the Comic Geek Speak (CGS) forums.  I had never joined any kind of online forums before and wasn’t sure what to expect. I started listening to CGS as well and they often spoke about their forum members like they were friends. I took the plunge and joined. I was very much a “lurker” for the first little bit.  The first thing I noticed was that a lot of the people there all had odd names. There were people like Peter, Bryan, and Shane, but there was also Dr Norge, Rainbow Cloak, and Filthy McMonkey and many, many others. I’ve done my share of chatting via AOL and Messenger so I was familiar with screen names. I picked the one I always use and finally started interacting. I started becoming familiar with the personalities behind the names. Little by little and bit by bit, these strangers became acquaintances and then friends. We discussed not only comics, but politics, family triumphs and tragedies, or the latest movie or TV show. We even have a yearly “Secret Santa” which is just a fantastic thing every Christmas season.  We feel so much like friends and family that I felt and feel like I would be totally at home meeting them in real life. I actually would like nothing better than to meet Sean, Darren, or Scott. (Norge, Cloak, and McMonkey)  These are people from all over the globe and from many different walks of life. People I know I never would have met otherwise. And the internet brought us together. 

One in particular has become one of my very best friends in the world.  Our friendship has grown beyond the forum and the computer.  We converse over the phone at least once a week and sometimes more. We’ve laughed at each other when we make idiots out ourselves, and shed a tear or two when there was no other way to express what needed to be said. He and his family live over 2000 miles from me and mine and yet because of this little thing called the internet (ok, so it’s really quite big) we’re as close as friends that live 2 miles away. I have friends in Colorado and New York as well as Canada and New Zealand. For someone who spent many years with a very small, limited group of friends, the world is now open to me in a very real way. So, to you friends out there. To Shane, Darren, Paul, Peter, Scott, Matt, Bryan, Sean, Leroy, Brad, Ken, Toni, Wayne, Caleb, Murray, Jim, Don, Chris, Frank, Sarah, Adam, Aaron, Kyle, Jamie, and all the others. To all my friends I’ve never met. Your friendship means more to me than you may ever know. Here’s to you. Here’s to friend who have or haven’t met. And, oh what the heck, here’s to micro heroes who started this whole thing off for me.  

piOnEer daY

     Today is July 24^th. Pioneer Day. A day when we Mormons take time to remember the sacrifices of those that came before us. Today we watch parades filled with floats of pioneer or western designs. We read stories of ancestors who may have been among those brave souls that gave so much. We shoot of fireworks and have picnics. We maybe even take time to go to the “This is the Place” monument. This year our family started what I hope can be a new tradition for us. We didn’t have any real activities during the day. In face, I worked most of the day. But after dinner we made some popcorn and re-watched the movie 17 Miracles. It tells the story of the Willie and Martin handcart company. They are probably the best known of all the handcart companies to cross the plains. They left far later than they should have and suffered greatly for it. It’s a very well made feature that, I admit, I can’t make it through tearless.

     One of my favorite things to learn about is church history, and I really stand in awe of what the early saints went through. I wonder how many of us today could stand up to the trials that they did. And yet, I guess that we all go through our own refiner’s fire. They had mobs and newspapers and we have protestors and the internet.  I know there have been times that I’ve thought that I would have stood up to the mobs and proudly stood by Brother Joseph or Brother Brigham. And yet, today, do I stand up as proudly with Brother Gordon or Brother Thomas? Am I as ready to stand and be counted as Latter-Day Saint as were those early saints? The threat to there lives may have been so much more than ours of course, but shouldn’t that make it even easier. There aren’t mobbers waiting to drive us from our homes into the cold of the night, but we fear the “mobbers” of our generation with even more fear than guns and ammo sometimes. I know that I’m as guilty as the next man in this. I fear what others may think sometimes more that I want to follow the leaders. I need to change that. I need to proudly stand and say who I am and what I believe. I’m from Utah. I’m a Mormon with lineage that traces back to Hyrum Smith and Willard Richards. I’m proud of both my heritage and my religion and I will try to stand as proudly today with Thomas Monson as I hope I would have with Joseph Smith. Happy Pioneer Day everyone.