Cold Stone Creamery has these delicious new cupcakes made with a layer of hot fudge between yellow cake and sweet cream ice cream topped with gooey whipped cream. No cupcake liners to throw away because it’s held together by a layer of crisp, rich chocolate.
They are so dang yummy. But don’t take my word for it.
Just ask the kid sporting a whipped cream goatee.
One can’t turn around without reading or hearing about the sad state of our economy. CNN says car dealerships are empty. MSBNBC reports unemployment rates we haven’t seen in decades. Every week another big company announces more layoffs. The economy is the hot topic around the company water cooler. I take that back. It’s the only topic.
That is unless your company decided to save a few bucks and remove the cooler altogether.
For the first time in my career I’ve began to think about what I would do if I lost my job. At this point my job appears secure but one never knows for certain. I’ve been part of two companies that folded during the dot com bust so it’s understandable I’ve started to give this topic some thought.
Maybe I’m overreacting but it never hurts to think about life after the current job. So I’ve come up with a few jobs I’d go after if mine hits the dead pool. I don’t recall considering any of these jobs right after graduating from the University of Utah. In fact, I didn’t realize any of them existed. It shouldn’t come as a surprised I was introduced to all three jobs while attending sporting events.
So here’s my list in no particular order.
A Craigslist and Monster search for these jobs does not locate a single opening. So if you happen to come across any of them, you know where to find me.
Zamboni picture courtesy of Digiart2001
Something about Sunday brings out the chatty side of our kids.
It could have something to do with the fact their mom and dad ask them be reverent at church 450 times within a three hour timeframe.
But our children are still young and don’t understand big words like reverence so we revert to using phrases they understand like, “Please don’t make faces at the couple sitting behind us” and “The pulpit microphone is for giving talks NOT making fart sounds”.
The kids can barely contain their excitement once church is over, and they’re free to use their outdoor voices in the car on the drive home.
This is why we buy Ibuprofen by the case at Costco.
At lunch Luca asked me what I wanted to be when I grow up. Without waiting for an answer she began listing the reasons she wants to become a baker. Here’s what I learned about becoming a baker today from my 7-year old daughter:
Given what I know now about bakers I’m slightly disappointed I didn’t become one. Who knew bakers don’t have a curfew?
I asked Lincoln what he wanted to be when he grows up. He thought for a minute before looking at Luca and then back at me. I wasn’t sure if he understood the question until he gave this answer:
“When Luca bakes stuff, I will test it to make sure it tastes good. I’ll be the tester”
The details never changed including the shag carpet. “All In the Family” flickered across the TV. The space heater was cranked to the “sauna” setting. A service plaque from Delta Airlines hung on the wall over the exercise machine I never saw anyone use.
I’d take it all in as I carefully inched the door open. This was my grandfather’s lair, and I would find him sitting in his La-Z-Boy at the back of the room. His chair was reclined so far back I never understood how he was able to see anything on the screen. But he sat up straight when he recognized my voice.
The room was dark. All I could see was the orange glow from the space heater and the images on the TV. My grandfather would ask me to flip the light switch and take a seat on the couch where he began asking me questions about the sport I was playing at the time.
My grandfather made me feel important. He was interested in what I was doing and never made me feel like the game or Archie Bunker took priority over our chat. I think of my grandfather each time hear the theme song from “All In The Family” or the stopwatch ticking from “60 Minutes”.
When he passed away a few years ago, I asked my father for a copy of a picture of my grandfather playing football at Westminster College in Salt Lake City. The picture was housed in a small gold frame, and it become a favorite among my siblings. But it was nowhere to be found until this past week when my father stumbled across it mixed in with a stack of family photos.
The over-sized pigskin. The lace up pants and leather helmets. The two defenders struggling to make a tackle. The old jerseys, the high-top cleats and handful of fans in the stands are a few details I’ve admired many times over the years.
But it’s my grandfather’s expression that pushes it over the top for me. I’ve seen that look of determination a thousand times. He was big and strong for the times, and I imagine him running over smaller defensive backs who tried to bring him down. This was true smash-mouth football.
I wish he were still around to talk sports with me.
I have no doubt he’d remember this play and could tell me how many yards he gained.
Some tasks have my name written all over them. Taking out the garbage, killing spiders and replacing light bulbs come to mind. I’m free to do these any day, any time.
Then there’s the list of jobs I’m never asked to do.
Just ahead of washing delicates is doing the girls hair.
But today was an exception because we were late for church and Kim was busy chasing after Kai.
I called Luca to the bathroom and pulled out a brush. She must have felt like she’d gone to an upscale salon only to find out a first semester cosmetology student would be cutting her hair.
“Wrong brush, dad”
Off to a good start.
I open three drawers looking for one brush that – well – looks like a brush. Some of the tools I uncover look useful only if the goal is to remove sections of scalp. Definitely above my pay grade.
I eventually stumble upon a brush that doesn’t appear to have been created to inflict pain, and I begin to run it through Luca’s hair.
“Spray some of that first”
I pickup a small spray bottle that looks entirely too much like one I used on shirts I ironed a while back. No wonder they smelled strange.
This seems to help the comb move through the hair. I comb the sides and the back. We’re making progress.
But when it comes to combing Luca’s bangs I have no clue. Right or left. Pulled forward or back. Nothing I do seems to look right. It can’t be this hard, I tell myself. Do I need more spray? Should I break out the hair dryer?
I need a miracle.
Just as I’m about to call for mom, Luca jumps up on the counter and looks in the mirror. She turns her head to the left. Then to the right.
“Looks good, dad”
She gives me a hug, jumps off the counter and runs downstairs.
Just call me Gene Juarez from here on out.
I can’t imagine a 6-year old any more excited to get glasses than our Lincoln. He’s asked us each day for the past week if his glasses were ready to pickup.
Kim picked up her contact lenses yesterday and Lincoln was disappointed his glasses had not come in.
Tonight the call arrived. They were ready.
But it was 5:50 pm and Sears Optical closed at 6. I explained how excited Lincoln was to pickup his glasses and wear them to school tomorrow. If we arrived while he was still in the store he’d hand them over.
We jumped in the Odyssey and took off. I pulled into the parking lot and ran up to the door with Lincoln in tow at 6:10. I didn’t want leave him disappointed again, but figured at least we tried.
But we were in luck! A few lights were still on and we were invited inside.
Lincoln sat down on a stool. He couldn’t stop grinning. Nor could he stop twirling around in the chair and making goofy faces in the small mirror. The young man reached into a drawer and pulled out a small pair of glasses. He fiddled with them for a few minutes in order to find the right fit to Lincoln’s face.
I left this young man a tip and told him thank you for making our son’s day. As I opened the door to return to the car, Lincoln ran past me.
He could not wait to show his older sister his new glasses. If Luca approved of them, that’s all that mattered.
Lately I’ve been thinking about what makes a friend. The definition of friend seems a a little hazy lately given the hype around social media such as Facebook, MySpace, Twitter and the like.
For example, I have over 600 friends on Facebook and nearly 2500 followers on Twitter. I’ve met some nice people on both sites. Even had extended conversations with a few of them.
But are they friends?
A German who made an impression on my life once told me that “one has as many friends as fingers on one hand”.
I scoffed at this notion when I heard him say that. No more than five friends? Give me a break. I felt like I had made dozens of friends in high school and college.
That was twenty years ago. And I’m finally beginning to understand what his definition of a friend is. He later told me that American’s didn’t seem genuine in many social interactions. “Stop by if you make it to Utah” felt rehearsed rather than sincere. What came across as an off-handed comment by an American could be taken as an invitation to a German.
I know I’ve been guilty of this.
So what makes a friend? I’m still working on a definition. Although maybe it will always be a work in progress. Kim says that one characteristic of a friend is someone who, no matter how much time has passed, she can pickup a conversation with them like it was yesterday.
That sounds better than anything I’ve been able to come up with.
And that list fits on one hand.
What makes a friend for you?
There was a time when brick and mortar retailers held most of the cards. If I wanted a Sony Walkman, I could choose between a number of local electronics stores. Mail order was an option as well but not nearly as mainstream.
That was then.
Today we have seemingly limitless options. If I’m looking for a specific video camera like I was last week, there are hundreds of online retailers ready to take my Visa. I have local options as well although they are diminishing each month it seems.
But I enjoy buying local and will pay a bit more to do so. By supporting local shops I keep another option open even if the price is a little higher and their selection isn’t as expansive.
So last week I decided to surprise Kim with a Flip Mino for Valentines. I went to the local Best Buy. I found the video camera display after making my way through a maze of Xbox bundles, racks of DVDs and rows of cell phone accessories only a teenager could appreciate.
They had a number of video cameras but not the Flip Mino HD model I was after. I looked around for a sales associate, but the two I could find were helping other customers. So I waited.
And waited.
Finally a young man from the Apple iPod area approached me. He seemed sure they carried the model I wanted, but didn’t have keys to check. Keys to what? I didn’t ask.
He asked me to wait a little longer for the man with the keys which I did. After a few minutes, I was speaking with the associate who knew a lot about the Flip Mino. He told me they had the HD model in stock but it wasn’t out on the floor nor was it on the display table for me to test.
So I’m nearly 25 minutes into a visit that should take 10 only to find out that I can’t handle or test the product I’m looking to purchase thereby removing a major reason I decided to drive to the store in the first place.
The associate said he’d retrieve the Mino HD from the back room if I was interested in buying it. Huh? What if I just wanted to hold it? Maybe even test it! This isn’t a rare BMW M3 I’m looking to buy here. Why wouldn’t this employee get the camera in my hand AS SOON AS POSSIBLE? This is Retail 101. Get the product in the customers hands! This is one of the few benefits retailers have over online stores. We know they usually can’t compete on price or selection. But they can refine the sales process and make up for those weaknesses by providing excellent service. Nordstrom understands this. So does Starbucks and the Apple Store.
Before I could ask this young man to retrieve an HD Mino from the now mystical and very locked back closet, he launched into a spiel about the extended warranty Best Buy offers on this camera. I haven’t seen the camera. I’ve not held it. Yet he’s trying to upsell me on a warranty.
I gave up. I couldn’t take it any longer.
And I walked out of the store minus the camera.
This weekend, I found the camera at B & H for forty bucks less. Took me a whole two minutes to purchase. No waiting. No spiel. No BS.
Maybe there’s still room for local electronics retailers. But unless they can decrease the grief to helpfulness ratio, they have no chance to earn my business.
The eye doctor pressed a magic button sending the chair as high as it would reach. Lincoln sat on the very edge of the cushion dangling his short legs over the front of the chair.
He shot me a quick glance. I could see the concern in his blue eyes as if to say, “What’s this lady going to do to me?”
“Lean in just a little more so you can rest your chin here. Can you read the top line back to me?”
“What?”
“Look straight ahead. Can you see any letters on the wall?”
“Yep”
“Good. Can you read the ones on top back to me?”
“G………………”
“Do you see any more?”
“Yep”
“Can you tell me what you see?”
“I see a G. And there’s an H. And that’s either a 5 or an E. When are we gonna be done?”
I watched this same sequence of events take place over and over until the eye doctor had enough data to determine a prescription or become exhausted from Lincoln’s lacksidasical attitude towards the exam.
Lincoln takes life at his own pace. Frame by frame. That means life comes at him in a very methodical manner which may seem slow to some. But he possesses an uncanny ability to retrieve seemingly random details. One time Kim pointed out a turtle in a book and Lincoln shot back, “That’s not a turtle. It’s a desert tortoise”.
When the eye doctor finished the exam she pressed the button again until the chair was low enough for him to jump off.
“Do I get glasses? My sister got two glasses. But I didn’t get any. My mom said someday I might need glasses”
“You can see up close well. But with glasses, you’ll be able to see things that are further away”
The grin on Lincoln’s face stretched from ear to ear. He could barely contain his excitement as he bounded out the door to tell his mom, but mostly his older sister that HE WAS GETTING GLASSES!!
When you’re six years old, getting glasses is a big deal.
But getting glasses just like your big sister is MONUMENTAL.
When your children are close in age, it’s not uncommon for them to bring out each other’s competitiveness.
As we drove home, I overhead Luca tell Lincoln that, although he was getting glasses, she was able to read the smallest letters on the wall.
In a week Lincoln’s new glasses will be ready.
Two frames, of course. Just like his big sister.
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