Sometimes Monday Happens.

I wake up before the sun is up and head off to work. My car is dead. It's ok though, I have my room mates truck, which is pretty nice. So I roll around in a truck that is not mine pretending that I am cool and I may have more than a few dollars to my name. It's not true. I am on my way to clean and vacuum the country club, the early morning crew. We are usually done and gone by the time the rich old men show up for breakfast and to talk golf. I put in my ear buds and wander off in my mind as I vacuum crumbs from last night's five course meal.

I am done and I head to class. Good things. I ace my quiz (which was not hard) but I ace it anyways. Then get out of class early. I enjoy laughing with friends in the hallway. I then see another friend and decide to hit up lunch. Supreme personal pan pizza from pizza hut. We talk about the usual thing for a single mormon in their mid twenties. Dating. We complain and lament about the same old things, give answers we have given thousands of times before. We end up passing the blame on somebody else, laugh, and enjoy the fact that we have once again let ourselves off the hook.

Sitting in my required philosophy class. The teacher is rambling on about some issue I really don't bother to know about. I hate generals. They make school almost unbearable. A six page paper on Friday, then a final on Monday. Just cramming my mind with issues that don't have any real solutions. I have no power to change it, or at least I don't desire to have the power to change certain things... yet.

The cold is starting to make it hard to breath. I come home to an empty apt. It's on cold days like this I wish I had a Mrs. to come home to, just for the company, just for the love. It will come in time. I have patience that something will work out. I make blueberry pancakes just for the sake of eating something warm. I make the batter thin so they come out like crepes. I feel like I have a special talent for making these pancakes just right. I work on this blog and go fishing for compliments. I enjoy some conversation in the vastness of the internet. I find common ground with strangers. I find common ground with myself. It's a beautiful thing to behold. People can surprise you by their generousity in sharing their thoughts. It's one of the most unselfish things I believe we can share, ourselves.

I am starting to stress. Worrying gets the best of me as I wonder how to accomplish what everyone expects of me and even more, what I expect of myself. Too much, and the Monday night football game is a snoozer. Two losing teams, two reasons not to watch. I put in a movie to make me think. Garden State it is. It's been too long since I have viewed such fine cinema. One line sticks out.

"I'm fine with being unimpressive. I sleep better." - Garden State

I get up to switch my laundry out and it gives. My achilles heel, which happens to be my right knee. I have no clue what happens but it buckles and I fall to the ground like a sack of bricks. My body is giving out long before it is supposed to. I roll around on the ground, wondering how in the world my knee gave out just walking.The pain is so bad I feel like I might vomit but what do I do instead? I laugh. Because it's Monday, my car is dead, I am a janitor, finals are gonna kill me, my knee is swelling up, and I realized I was due for a bad day sometime. Mondays happen.

TGIT (Thank Goodness it's Tuesday)

To a better Tuesday,

A hopeful gimp

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A Sunday prayer.

Here's my heart, Lord.

Take and seal it.

Seal it for Thy courts above.

The Right Reverend

The Right Reverend

A man who is right with God. A man who exemplified God through action, never through words. God is never found in the walks of fame, the riches, the glamour, or the fame of the world. The most grand Creator of all things is found in the humble corners of the soul, of those people who knew their weakness but made no excuse for it. Not for the perfect but the sinner who keeps trying; of those who just want to be good for the sake of being good.

I had a grand father who was those things, he still is. He was the right reverend because he lived the right way of God. Was he perfect? No he wasn't, he would be the first tell you it. The first to admit he was a drunk. Yet, he was man of God.

He saved lives not because he lived some perfect life, but because he used the experience of his mistakes to help and save others. Sometimes we get so caught up on running the straight and narrow path we lose sight of the fact that there are people stumbling next to us on this path. The right reverend never was trying to get to heaven that fast because he knew heaven is about who you get there with, not just the sole fact of getting there. And so he went on walking and taking a minute to talk to the down trodden while some people scoffed at him for taking so long, but he never gave into their criticisms, because he was the right reverend. There is always room for one more, always time for a visit, always a pot of coffee ready for the weary traveler, because the right reverend knew the way heaven really worked. Heaven is a lot like the house on the corner of Russell Avenue, a lot like the Sahara Club, a lot like the old man whistling while playing cards in the corner of the room. If you are in such a rush to find it, you will drive, walk, see right past it.

Yeah, the right reverend showed the right way.

And this is what keeps me up at night sometimes, the thing that strikes me as I look out to the vastness of the great salt lake. Will people say the same thing when they bury my tabernacle down into the mud? Will I leave the earth with footprints or just finger printers smudged on a bathroom mirror? I pray mightily that my death bed will be surrounded by many, not just a machine and regrets. And will people smile when they think of the time we spent together, or will I just be a tombstone? Will I make my family name proud? Will people be able to easily see that I was the grandson of the man known as the Right Reverend? This is written in the back of my bible and spoken on the letters of incessant prayers. That I make good of his legacy. That I keep it alive.

And so I go on, making sure my hands are never too clean to help the downtrodden up off their feet and never too busy to let someone know that it will be alright. Yes, I am not running to salvation. I am doing it one step, one person, one mistake at a time.

And when the black disease comes to my name on his list, if I am surrounded by many instead of a few, then I will hear the words "All is well, All is well"

Throughout all eternity on Russell Ave,

The faithful (at least trying) grandson

I can't hide.

End of the semester is upon me. The light is near but seems dim, especially when I have much asked of me in the next two weeks. Much of it is my own doing. Give me all day and I will give you an hour. Give me an hour and I will give you a week. It's just the way I work. Why? Your guess is as good as mine.

Fall semester in a nut shell, every time is some way or another. I will be ok though. It's just my future. What else could go wrong.

Hittin' the books,

A saintly procrastinator

When it comes to swag.

Unusual. I am not one to give his take on fashion. But when I see something I like, I like it, alot. On that note. I have a cousin named Jenny. She is very chic and cool along with my cousin Cara. I feel legit whenever I am hangin' out with them, like I am young a successful instead of just young and broke. Jenny married a legit guy. His name is Gibran Hamden (He played in the NFL for a little while, in case you didn't know). His swagger matches that of Ryan Gosling. The guy has it figured out. He always dresses to the nines. He is the cat's meow. Even better, he can improve anyone else's swagger level to all time highs if they follow his advice. He knows the styles. He knows what style makes you look like you. And he even has his own fashion line of men's dress polos called Alial Fital. Check it out.

Larry Fitzgerald! Alial Fital fan! (He also came through big for me this week in fantasy football, just sayin'.)

Yeah that's Matt Hasslebeck sportin' Alial Fital,

Glitzy Fitzy, lovin' it!

Even Grandpa Don loved Alial Fital. The old man knew style. ( That's my cousin Jenny on the left )

My other cousin Rachel's husband Craig Terrill, also plays in the NFL (current free agent). Am I just name dropping? Sure sounds like it. I'll shut up and let the fashion do the talking.

Gibran Hamdan. The man. The stylist. The vision.

And finally, yours truly.

And so it goes. While I will never be a swagger hound like Ryan Gosling or Gibran Hamdan, at least I learn from the best.

"Good times and you can feel it in the fashion." - Atmosphere

Swagger,

Lion Man

Check out Alial Fital @ alialfital.com

Like them on facebook as well to find out about discounts facebook.com/alialfital

In the middle of eternity...

Mortality hits someone like a ton of bricks, whether it is you faced with your own passing or someone that has always been there since day one of your life. It has hit me and my family quick and hard this last month as our most loved and cherished grandpa Don aka Donald aka the don father has passed on to the other side, a joyous time for him I am sure as he is reunited with grandma Shirley once again. I am sure he even had a joke to tell everyone else who was there welcoming him home, and I am sure even the Lord chuckled just a little bit. The embraces and reunions on the other side are sweet and yet it is bittersweet to all of us still here, in the world. And the world seems a little less like home now that grandpa isn't here to tell us we are looking well or to stay sober. However, I do know this. Families are eternal. My grandfather didn't die today, he just merely passed on. And while the goodbyes are hard and somber, I know it is not final. Much like it was when I left on my mission. It was hard and painful to say goodbye but we knew it was only for a time. It is the same now as my grandpa passes through the veil and sees my grandma and says "Shirley, it sure is good to be with you again."

But for us in the meantime, I know we wish for communication, comfort and guidance. We wish for visits here and there. We just wish for them, in anyway, shape or form we can reach them. And they will be there, in the middle...

Grandpa...

Will you meet me in the middle like you said?

When I find that girl who I just can't help but love with all my heart. The one who will be to me what grandma was to you.. Will you be there? I hope I can tell you how special she really is, because we know she will have to be saint to put up with somebody like myself (I know you are laughing right now). I hope I can tell you everything about her and everything we have planned. I hope you are there to listen and smile. So will you meet me in the middle then like you said?

Will you meet me in the middle of the night?

I know life will get tough for me at times because that is just life. But I knew life was never too bad to not appreciate a joke and to appreciate the fact that things get better and if you can laugh, life is not that bad. So for when the times do come that the seas are rough and I seem to stumble, will you meet me in the middle of the night for a joke, a laugh and the comforting words "love ya kid." Will you meet me in the middle of the night then? (And make sure to bring grandma with you too, she makes you look better)

Will you meet me in the middle of the road?

I know right now there are tears on our side, a lot more than there are on the other side. Death is something that will come to all, it is all a door we must go through when the time that the chapter of mortality comes to an end. So when the time comes for each of us that we pass, will you meet us in the middle of the road?

In every passing, in every celebration, in every thing that awakes our souls, something is always constant: Family.

In the shade they will bring you home...

In the waves they will guide your boat...

In the grave they will meet our souls...

Yes, we will all meet in the middle someday.

And in the mean time, I at least have the knowledge that God is a loving father that wishes only to bless and enrich us. How do I know this? Because I had Don Binns for a grandfather. And for that I am eternally grateful. I was able to have him there for some of my most cherished moments in life, and I know he will continue to be there to smile with me when good things come my way and there to put his arm around me when life gets tougher than expected. He isn't dead, he just has simply passed on, moved away, and I know he will visit and keep in touch. That's just the way he is.

And I will continue to be grateful for all my family, immediate and extended.

For they are all that matters... Family isn't just everything, it's the only thing.

These things I know:

The Lord is good

My family is eternal

The soul is eternal, the body is mortal

That love can communicate through any barrier

That the purest form of love is found in family

I know these things to be true, because Heaven most likely looks like this...

Then shall the virgin rejoice in the dance, both young men and old together: for I will turn their mourning into joy, and will comfort them, and make them rejoice from their sorrow - Jeremiah 31:13

The sorrow is temporal

The joy is eternal

The joy is family...

Eternally,

The son. grandson. brother. nephew. cousin. a grateful member of an eternal family.

I can't help but think of the reunion that happened today when I hear these songs...