Farewell

Seeing Seattle

This last weekend, I had the wonderful opportunity to fly to Seattle and visit my brother, the internettally renowned Tolkien Boy. At the conclusion of our activities, he and I posted a joint blogpost on his prestigious blog, the Broken Arms. Here, on the off chance that someone reads mine before his, is that post, with only a few minor edits (including a few layout glitches). So sit back, hold onto your dictionaries, and enjoy the show.


TOLKIEN BOY: Hello, Bassercussionist readers! The ever-bold-and-brotherly Bassercussionist, feeling a bit tied to the rain-shadowy world of Utah and its environs, decided to transcend his earthly imperatives and wing his wilful way Pacific-Northwest-ward. All things being done in preparation for his upcoming religious revivalisms, I am honored to be the featured guest writer here at Rhythm Corner. Say something for the crowd, Bassercussionist.

BASSERCUSSIONIST: Um...would you like me to rise to your incredibly transcendent vocabulary, or would you like me to avoid the charade altogether?


TOLKIEN BOY: I would never advise you to avoid the joint efforts of Cary Grant and Audrey Hepburn, you know that. Constant though the changes may be to my psyche through the grimness of perpetual Seattle greyness, that at least is a constant.


BASSERCUSSIONIST: Uhh...okay (wondering what Cary Grant and Audrey Hepburn have to do with it). Well, I would like to say that I am honored and privileged indeed to have Tolkien Boy accompanying me here at Rhythm Corner. But a greater honor and privilege is to be related to this brilliant and ever-inspiring author.

TOLKIEN BOY: Thank you; have another cookie. Tonight's topic of discussion is the activities of the past three days, in which Bassercussionist and myself, in a manner decidedly antithetical to the exploits of the well-known Debbie, enjoyed the diversions of the greater Seattle area. Item one is the reason behind this visit, namely, Bassercussionist's practice run of the airline industry to determine its relative safety and comfort before committing twelve hours of his life to make the trip to Munich, Germany. Bassercussionist?


BASSERCUSSIONIST: Thank you. In case clarification is needed, I had my first experience with the modern marvel of flying Thursday night. There are many who are very familiar with this mode of travel, but it was very alien to me. But oddly enough, I was not very nervous about it. It all seemed very straightforward.To make the story not long-winded, I flew from Salt Lake City at 9:00 p.m. and landed in Seattle at roughly 11:30 p.m. I had the inductory misfortune to be seated behind, in front, and on the side of three particularly unhappy toddlers. I didn't mind it very much, because I figured that it was only necessary for my first flight to make the experience complete. Complete, that is, including grilled-cheese crackers and an easily-spillable cup of apple juice. And you can't exclude the compilation of salacious and gritty sitcoms that the airline shows under the pretense of "for your entertainment." Hah.


Also, I have gained an incredible respect for those men and women who design and operate airplanes. As I sat, watching the ground disappear from beneath me, I couldn't help but think to myself, "Okay, how much does this machine weigh? And we have it off the ground on its own momentum? That's incredible." So, kudos to all those airline pilots, engineers, and anyone else who works with airplanes. I'm glad I had the experience before I jump the Atlantic Ocean.


TOLKIEN BOY: Thank you, Bassercussionist for that...exhaustive...but always entertaining explication of the marvels that are modern flight. We'll be watching your career with great interest.Stop one on our Seattle trip was the Experience Music Project in downtown Seattle (right across the street from the Duck Tours. You know you're doing something right if ducks feature prominently in your immediate vicinity). Bassercussionist is, by far, the more musical between us, and I have to say his percussive antics startled many a gradeschooler. I think, though, that my favorite moment was when Bassercussionist and I sat in a cramped booth and recorded ourselves salivating over such musical greats as Buble, Groban, and Martini. Look for a transcript of our cadence confessions (bless us, Wagner, we have sinned) on YouTube. My personal favorite moment was when we, in perfect unison, flashed our brilliant whites at the camera's final recording moments. Oh, and you don't know "cool" until you've heard Bassercussionist's dance mix of "I'm A Pineapple Princess" as sung by Annette Funicello. Seriously. (And don't think, Mr. Fob, that we can't hear you giggling. We can.)



BASSERCUSSIONIST: Immediately after and directly adjacent to the Experience Music Project is the Science Fiction Museum. Here even the most indifferent Star Trek fanatic can find himself ogling at the full-size models of the U.S.S. Enterprise, the fully functional Alien robot, as well as a fully interactive space station observation window where everything from the Death Star to the Crailia (a fully organic spacecraft capable of asexual reproduction (oh, heaven help us)). The Science Fiction Museum is almost guaranteed to awaken the inherent paranoia of being abducted by curious and well-meaning aliens in just about everybody. The Museum also featured many pulp-fiction novels, suggesting every conceivable method of mass destruction that an advanced alien species would use to annihilate the human race (i.e. The Death of the Grass, a story of a great plague that killed all the grass and vegetation on earth, dooming humanity to starvation). Lined with starry ceilings, the Science Fiction Museum transported us to another dimension. And for a few moments, I floated in a great sense of magnificent insignificance, as I stared into the vast expanse of the blanket of trillions of diamond stars.


TOLKIEN BOY: Moving on to other gluten-free entertainments (don't forget your towel), Bassercussionist and I paid a completely unplanned visit to the Pacific Northwest Science Center. Now, a word about the Science Center: I know it's for children. I don't care. It's always been my favorite stop-off in Seattle, for a variety of reasons. For one thing, they have moving dinosaurs. Moving dinosaurs. Sure, they're animatronic, but if you squint, you can almost feel the same terror that our poor primate ancestors must have felt on a late Cretaceous evening. Second, they have an enormously oversized table. I don't know why they do, but they do. And third (and to my mind most convincingly), they have naked mole rats. Considering that naked, mole, and rat are common adjectives that are used to describe me after dates, I have always felt a certain sort of affinity with the ugly eusocial creatures. To top off the experience, Bassercussionist honed his weatherman's skills, indicating that Seattle is due for--wait for it--three days of rain. The boy is a natural.


BASSERCUSSIONIST: I'm still a Seattle-newbie. Gimme a break. Besides, in the time that I've been here, Seattle has been sunny, clear, and beautiful.


TOLKIEN BOY: Words used to describe me before a date.


BASSERCUSSIONIST: In any event, The Seattle Science Center is a must for any Seattle-goer. It works kind of like an extremely educational Disneyland. It teaches you fascinating things, and it makes you feel like a little kid all over again. It's a fun feeling.


TOLKIEN BOY: Until, of course, you find out you weigh 500 pounds on Jupiter, and that your heart rate is dangerously unhealthy and your stress level (even when you're recreating!) borders on the psychotic. But, on to the sculpture gardens!


BASSERCUSSIONIST: As you wish, Tolkien Boy. The sculpture gardens are a grand collection of modern art near the waterfront of the Puget Sound. There you can walk among long, wavy slats of cement (Just make sure you don't lean against them. There are people they hire to yell at you if you get too close. Seriously, where's the career aspiration?). Or you can sit on a chair, underneath an even larger chair. Or you can wax philosophical in front of a large metal tree with no leaves. A singular experience for the sophisticated Seattle-see-er.


TOLKIEN BOY: Nice use of sibilants. Day two of our journey found us again at the waterfront, but this time to ascertain the aqueous amusements of the Seattle aquarium. Bassercussionist and myself, ever the studied students of the seas, discovered a number of important things, not the least of which that we both look frighteningly stunning on a sea otter couch. Bassercussionist, being young and inexperienced, was a bit freaked out by the ambiguous sexuality of a few of the species of fish we encountered, but we pressed on through and discovered that mammals are nicely unambiguous--including but not limited to the recently delivered human female who felt it her right to nurse her young in the middle of a cramped and crowded passageway leading to the salmon spawning springs. (The things one discovers in the wild!) Our only regret is that the puffins were placid. We prefer our puffins progressive.


BASSERCUSSIONIST: I was not either freaked out. I was just a little...bewildered. That's all. After our discoveries at the aquarium, we went to a large and, apparently, popular park. Perhaps the beautiful weather allowed for all manner of health-conscious and sun-loving people to emerge and enjoy the blue skies and green grass. There we met with the legendary Mr. Fob, as well as three other of Tolkien Boy's friends, and recreated. I was reminded of how many years it had been since I had thrown or caught a baseball (five, to be exact), as well as how foolish long-sleeved black shirts are in Seattle summers. But exercise and good company were welcome, and although I came close to severely injuring one of Tolkien Boy's friends, we all walked away still friends. I hope.


TOLKIEN BOY: Pending, of course, the trial proceedings.


BASSERCUSSIONIST: Speaking of that, what do you suppose the bail would be for a pair of broken sunglasses and a mild case of bruised pride?

TOLKIEN BOY: Let's just say that it's fortunate for you that you're leaving the country.


BASSERCUSSIONIST: Good thing that I got my good-conduct letter before I came to Seattle.


TOLKIEN BOY: All in all, the times I've spent with Bassercussionist have been among some of my most enjoyable moments in Seattle. I'm reminded how likable my family is--to me at least. And it's good to know that in the direst extremities, we've still got each other's back--and that I can still whup him in House Rules Uno if the occasion calls for it. I'm going to miss my little, big brother--but I'm confident that my temporary loss will be Germany's temporary (?) gain.


BASSERCUSSIONIST: Definitely temporary. I also have had one of the most enjoyable times this last weekend. I will always have Tolkien Boy's back. I've been told that I look menacing and intimidating (at least when I want to), so keep that in mind, anyone who thinks of picking on him. I don't care if anyone thinks that it's weakness or in some way not masculine to admit feelings for one's siblings. I love you, Tolkien Boy. I've had the time of my life here in Seattle with you, and I won't forget it. When people ask me if I did anything big before I left for Germany, I'll say "I flew to Seattle to see my brother!" And I'll always be proud to say it.


TOLKIEN BOY: As will I, Bassercussionist. As will I. And--guess what? I love you too.




EPILOGUE




BASSERCUSSIONIST: Will people be weirded out by our professions of love?


TOLKIEN BOY: Are you kidding? This post is over three paragraphs long. People start skimming after that.


BASSERCUSSIONIST: It's funny because it's true.



TOLKIEN BOY: Dilbert?


BASSERCUSSIONIST: Dilbert.

To Those I Love

To Mom, for always loving, helping, and believing in me.

To Dad, for always encouraging, strengthening, and loving me.

To Sister, for helping me learn who I am and what I stand for.

To Sister's Husband, for being one of the coolest guys that I've ever known and tolerating me at the same time.

To Tolkien Boy, for all the laughs, grammatical assistance, and love.

To Walt, for always being there, and for sharing life with me.

To Walt's wife, for joining my family, for your happy smile, and for your love.

To Hermano, for being not only my brother, but also one of my best friends.

To Grandma and Grandpa (Of my father's side), for being a constant source of wisdom, aide, and compassion.

To Grandma and Grandpa (Of my mother's side), for giving me your incredible example of patience, perseverance, and charity.

To Scobberlotch, for being a woman and tolerating me at the same time, for your beautiful smile, and for being another of my best friends.

To Mafia Man, for relating to me and being another of my best friends.

To editorgirl, for your brilliant mind and beautiful smile.

To Choir Teacher, for making my high school experience a grand one.

To Theatre Teacher, for making my high school experience even grander.

To Orchestra Teacher, for believing in me that I may change apathy and indifference to zeal and interest.

To Band Teacher, for instilling in me a love for excitement and music working together.

To Bishop, for understanding.

To SWAT Sniper, for teaching me that good policemen can be good Mormons, contrary to popular belief.

To Emma, for hugging me back.

To Allie, for remembering me and being another one of my best friends.

To Kelso, for sharing my fascination with drums, and for being your own sweet self.

To Drumline Advisor, for teaching me professionalism and reliability, as well as being another one of the coolest guys I've ever known.

To Neo Dragon, for being one of my more prominent best friends, and for letting me play Soul Calibur II, even when he's sick of the game.

To John, for being another of my best friends, and for joining me in the mission field, only a few thousand miles from where I will be.

To Jebediah, for being another of my more prominent best friends, and for being excited for just about everything. (Also for having the coolest yard/garden I've ever seen.)

To Franklin, for watching Red vs. Blue with me in Computer Applications class, when we knew we should've been working on our Access tables.

To Jim Gough, for being the best teacher I've ever had, for teaching me that art is the ability to see things as they are, and not how they appear to be, and for showing me the extraordinary in the ordinary.

To Annie, for sharing her wonderful musical talents, her beautiful smile, and her happiness with me.

To Alex, for being another of my best friends and brother.

And to all those who have been kind to me, spent time with me, or even smiled at me in passing.

May my love and appreciation go with you always.

Farewell, my friends and family.

Pocketbook

Utah Driving Record: $4.25

U.S. Passport: (roughly) $200

Joseph & Feiss long-sleeved white shirt: $20

Joseph & Feiss short-sleeved white shirt: $18

4 pair black gold-toe socks (bargain buy from Sam's Club): $7.96

1 pair Eckos black dress shoes: $140

Silk tie: $18

Charcoal-grey double-breasted three-button suit: $200

Waterproof fleece-lined winter coat: $220

Spilling two banana-berry Jamba Juices in my car immediately after vacuuming and washing the carpets: priceless

Especially when "Life is Beautiful" is playing on the radio.

Auserwahlt zu Dienen! (Mit ein Umlaut auf die zweite "A")

Those who know me know that I'm fairly religious. In fact, I think I'd go so far as to say that I'm devoutly religious. If any of my readers lose respect for me because of this, know that I wouldn't trade my beliefs and knowledge for anything in the world. And now that I'm coming to the ripe old age of 19, I am able to share beliefs in another land and another tongue.

That other land, ladies and gentleman, is Germany.

That's right, I have been called on an LDS mission to the Germany Munich/Austria mission.

I must tell you now that I am near overly excited for this. Not only am I stoked to learn the language (I took three years of German, but the third year was quite useless, taught by a gentleman who rambled about sports and subways every day for an hour and a half), but I am also excited to share my beliefs with the people of Germany.

So now that I know exactly when and where I'll be going (June 6 of this year), I am making sort of an official statement to the world of Blogland. To the few who read my musings, I will disappear from the online world on or around June 6.

I appreciate every and all persons who have read, commented, or even glanced at this blog ever since its creation a year and a half ago. Unlike the brilliant Tolkien Boy, I do not have the poetic genius nor the number of commentors necessary to write an interesting limerick about them all. But I do thank you for all your support and for all your words, be they encouraging or demeaning. They have given shape and interest to this small corner of the Internet.

Thanks to all, and God be with you 'till I post again!

Reflections on my Foolishly Romantic Mind

You know you're daydreaming

When you wish to be the man

that risks all hell and earth

to save and win the girl of dreams.

But in all practicality,

when will such a thing occur?

When will a man such as I

be called upon to demonstrate such

Fortitude? Selflessness? Courage?

Perhaps it may, perhaps it might.

My reasons must not be right.

Women do not seek me as they do

The unattainable hero.

I am a real person with real traits.

I have no chance in fairy tale fantasies.

I don't suppose that I'm mysterious,

Intriguing, noticeable even.

I'm not invisible, but I'm not

the one standing at the front of the crowd.

Why do we do this?

Why do we fill our heads with

visions of glory, honor, and love?

Why do we have to be so

hopefully romantic?

The face. The eyes that are beautiful windows to the soul.

The gentle hair, flowing like water in a stream.

The heart-pounding smile that makes any man

float into the blissful sky.

Who wouldn't be hypnotized?

I do not belong there. I,

My place is here on the ground,

Not there in the sky.

The clay of me crumbles in dreams.

You know you're daydreaming

When you wish to be the man

that risks all hell and earth

to save and win the girl of dreams.

The Do's and Dont's of Grocery Store Etiquette

I work in a grocery store. It's the typical big, open, mostly white, and full of all sorts of people. I think that it's both a blessing and a curse to be able to interact with so many different kinds of people. On one hand, I feel blessed when I meet someone who's cheerful, smiley, and full of encouragement. And on the other hand, I'm extremely tempted to turn in my two week's when someone comes through my line who is demanding, irritated/irritable, and seems confident that I exist solely to make his/her life convenient.

I am trying my best as of late to be more optimistic and cheerful. I always think of my brother (let's call him Hermano, because he's in Mexico right now) and how happy he was all of the time. But I've learned that such sunshine-ish attitudes are difficult to attain sometimes.

The focus of my job is customer service. My official title is "cashier" or "courtesy clerk." To the layman, this means I'm the guy who rings up your foodstuffs, wraps them in anti-environmental plastic, and then demands your money. It's kind of like a really smiley and friendly mafia man. Even though I'm taking your money, I'm determined that you will enjoy the experience.

But I don't think that the employees of the grocery store are the only ones who should be courteous and thoughtful. While it is difficult for some people to understand, cashiers are people, too. And most of the time, they are not responsible for the high price of produce.

So it is in that spirit that I present the 10 Do's and Dont's of Grocery Store Etiquette. I hope that they will provide an insight into the lives of grocery store employees. Or at least, to the grocery store that I work at.

1. The first thing I'd like everyone to know is something that I've said already: that cashiers are not responsible for prices.

The other day a lady came through my line and started yelling at me about the price of oranges. Being my usual pushover self, I played along and tried to tone the conversation down. What I should've done is come right out and say "Look, California froze over. You have a problem with that? Go talk to them. I'm sure they're as thrilled about it as you are." While blatant disrespects are not really the way to go, please take it easy on the cashiers. They're not the ones who stamp the price on the tag.

2. The Express Lane.

All of the grocery stores I've been to have an Express Lane that takes about 15 items or less, for the purpose of allowing those with just a couple of items to get through the checkout experience quickly and leave the store. This is one thing that gets on everybody's nerves. If you have a cart that is stacked to the ceiling, PLEASE do not go through the Express Lane. It's irritating to the cashier, it's irritating to the buyer, and it's irritating to the twenty people in line behind you who now have to wait twenty minutes while you unload your cart. Keep in mind that Express checkers have VERY LITTLE room to maneuver. To stack a huge pile of meat, eggs, and milk in the two-foot space at his/her checkstand is exasperating.

3. If you go through the Express Lane, try to avoid using checks as payment.

Again, the Express Lane is meant to go quickly. In the time it takes to write a check, take out the check, hand the check to the cashier, show your ID to the cashier, have the cashier run the check through the verification system, have the cashier write all sorts of authorization numbers on the check, have the cashier type in the amount of the check, run the check through another verification system, store the check, and have the cashier give you your receipt for the check, the lane on the other side has gone through at least fifteen people. Try to avoid checks on Express.

4. No matter where you are, DO NOT leave your cart just sitting there.

The only places you are allowed to leave a cart are the cart returns in the parking lot or the big cart bay just inside the store. No doubt you've seen the signs around the parking lot saying that the store can't be responsible for damage done by carts not in the return places. That's because the only people who leave carts just sitting in the parking lot are people who are either 1) in a hurry, 2) ignorant of the fact that there is a cart return less than 10 feet away, or 3) irresponsible and lazy. That's just the way it is. Please put your cart away. It makes life easier for everyone.

5. Have your method of payment ready or easily reachable before the time comes to pay.

I don't like to be a Scrooge, but it's annoying when someone comes through my line and takes forever to dig out their credit card or their checkbook or whatever they're using. It's not like we're keeping a clock running on how long the transaction takes, but it's a lot easier for you if you can just pull it out and use it, instead of having to hire an excavation team to find that last nickel so that you can have exact change.

6. Know your limits.

One of the most exasperating thing a customer can do at a grocery store is come to the checkout stand with a cart stuffed with expensive foods and say "I can only go up to $50." What the customers don't realize is that this means that maybe a fourth of the things in their cart will be bought and bagged. The rest will be given to an unhappy bagger who will be asked to go through the entire store and put everything back on the shelves. This can take anywhere from forty minutes to two hours, depending on how well the bagger knows the store. Yes, it's our job and we get paid for it, but believe me when I say that it's not fun.

7. Don't expect the cashiers or baggers to move like lightning.

Cashiers and baggers are normal human beings. They move like human beings. Their motor skills and reflexes are that of normal human beings. Please don't think that we're all ex-Army Rangers. We can only move so fast.

8. The grocery store is not a bank.

I know the temptation is great, but save your request for $35 all in one-dollar bills for the credit union.

9. Don't steal.

This is a general rule for life, but it seems to have great application to a grocery store. A little while ago, I was recruited as a security guard to help catch a couple of guys who were stealing a bunch of batteries. We got them just outside the store, and those will be the most expensive batteries they will ever buy. Know that there are people watching what goes on in the store. There isn't a square foot in the store that they can't see. Make life easier for yourself. If you open a package, take it to the front and pay for it. You'll feel better, and your record will have one less blemish.

10. Treat everyone with respect.

A grocery store is a collection of ordinary people who are trying to give you a convenient and cheerful way to obtain food. Everyone works to make the environment conducive to that feeling. And don't forget that your fellow shoppers are also trying to have a good experience. To sum it up, be thoughtful for everybody.

I hope that these tips have provided you with some measure of insight into the world of the grocery store employee. I love my job, even if people get on my nerves sometimes.

But isn't that what life's all about? Tolerance?