Big Boy Grill

The other day, my lovely wife and I picked up a new, "family-sized" grill. This concluded four years of faithful service by our Weber Baby Q portable grill, which was graciously given as a wedding present by our friends Jack, Marie, Bonnie and Dave. We thank them for their gift, which, in its retirement, will be reserved for heroic tailgating and car-camping appearances.

The new grill has two cooking racks and a side burner, plus some storage space below. We're looking forward to making it regular part of the family routine.

On Breaking Stride

Our movie rental vehicle of choice these days is the Red Box, a ubiquitous, $1/night DVD vending machine available at any grocery store or McDonald's in Utah. The system's most obvious flaw is also it's greatest asset: limited choice. The machines contain mostly family and horror titles, appealing to the impulses of the broadest of instantly-gratified audiences. But there are often some sleeper movies mixed amongst the Kung-Fu Panda's and Saw III's. Last night we settled on Smart People and hoped for the best. Overall the movie was unremarkable, except for the painful awkwardness of each of its main characters. I would classify the movie as delightfully dysfunctional along the lines of Dan in Real Life or Little Miss Sunshine.

As a brief synopsis, Lawrence, Dennis Quaid's character is a bitter, pompous widower who half-heartedly and numbly teaches literature at Carnegie Mellon University in Pittsburgh (perfect location). His two children carry excessive baggage, hiding in intellectual pursuits while Lawrence's underachieving adopted brother moves in to help out after Lawrence has a trauma-induced seizure and cannot drive himself to work for six months.

What stuck with me was how each character hides in his or her routine to cope with the pain of life. Rather than feeling anything, each character shuts out the world and focuses on areas in which they excel. Each experiences hollow successes they can't bare to share with the family for fear of becoming vulnerable. I find that to be a powerful social commentary. I won't call this a major revelation but rather a "huh." moment. Especially with winter on the horizon, I think we could all stand to step back and figure out how to avoid setting life on auto-pilot, make life memorable, and feel something real every day. Each of us have ways of coping with the world, the economy, the strains of family, the responsibilities of work, and the potential lamentation of a life under-lived. And while I do not profess to be a life-coach or motivational speaker, I think I can offer a few ideas how you can stay human.

At Work
I assume you do what you do because you love it. No? Then WTF are you doing there? But if you still fundamentally love what you do, then here are some ways you can preserve that naive passion.
Appreciate Greatness – Make time every day to find something inspiring somewhere in your industry, that forces you to rise above mediocrity. In my case it's easy to visit various design award sites each day to see something amazing. It also influences me to do work worthy of such recognition, and submit it for approval...the trick is not to become obsessed with recognition.
Learn New Tricks – Keep an eye out for career advancing opportunities such as conferences, seminars, courses, online tutorials, or even blog posts. We're never too old or too advanced to learn new tools to help us deliver a better product. I recently attended An Event Apart in Chicago and left with ideas spewing from each of my 3 remaining brain cells. Learning new skills improves your marketability and renews your commitment to your craft.
Improve Your Environment – Buy a lamp. Paint the walls. Add a plant. Clear your desk. Change your desktop wallpaper. DO ANYTHING you think will give you ownership of your immediate environment. Employee mental health is a leading factor of morale in a workplace and it's something we all can control to some extent. If your environment doesn't please you, it's YOUR fault. Take control.
Teach Someone – You presumably have had the benefit of someone with greater experience than yours, handing down knowledge, voluntarily or accidentally. Reaching out to help a younger colleague not only gives your youthful counterpart a leg up, but it gives you a self-esteem boost. Also, it adds to your managerial capacity while giving you a new, youthful advocate. Plus it reaffirms what you know, giving you a renewed sense of confidence. What's the downside?
Take a Mental Health Day – Unless you're an ER doctor, there's no reason to place so much emphasis on your job that it takes priority over your lifestyle. EVERYONE should be afforded the opportunity to live on their own behalf. Plan ahead. Get your work done early, log in remotely, call in to a conference call from a "difference office", or just play dead. But once in a while, it's OK to sneak off and enjoy life. Tell them Joe said so.
Go on an interview – Even if you're perfectly happy with your current job, there's nothing wrong with seeing what's out there. Take the time to consider other opportunities. It'll keep your interview skills sharp, your résumé polished and it'll renew your perspective on your current situation.
Find a new job – If all else fails, there are other jobs out there. Everyone has bad days but there is absolutely no excuse to be unhappy at work constantly. If you can't find some nugget of virtue in your job, it has ceased to be an asset in your life and it should be sacrificed as soon as you can make a safe transition.

At Home
We all have passions outside of work. The trick is to make sure those passions remain a priority. Can you put life before work? Maybe not always. Can you do it more than you do now? Probably.
Plan Your Weekends – Sarah and I generally try to plan our weekends by Monday at the latest. It gives us something to look forward to, but it also gives us something to reflect upon. Big weekends mean big memories; big bragging rights; and big precedents. No one drives around with an "I'd rather be bowling" sticker. Life is defined by nuance, not routine. Mix it up.
Mix It Up – So you like to ski...rock-climb...bike...kayak...camp...go clubbing....etc. REFUSE be defined by what you know. I know that as the snow falls, I'll probably ski all winter. People expect to see pictures of me skiing and THAT's OK. I love it. But it's the unexpected that makes my free-time memorable. Try something new. Doesn't matter if you hate it. You'll remember it, right?
Make Impromptu Plans – Every Thursday, Sarah and I rush home for The Office and/or Grey's Anatomy. We don't have a DVR (yet) so we take turns watching one show live and one via HULU.com or something. However, DVR or not, if a friend offers to have us over that night, we're not saying no. Life happens. TV can re-occur at any time.
Pick Up a Hobby – I'm sure your good at stuff. But how'bout trying something you suck at? I started skiing only because my girlfriend (at the time) told me I could either learn to ski or be lonely all winter. As it turns out, my life has re-arranged itself nicely.
Leave the Dishes in the Sink – Once in a while, it's ok to just enjoy a nice dinner/dessert/case of beer and leave the repercussions till tomorrow. Procrastinating has value when used as a method of preserving the extraordinary, vs. prolonging the inevitable. So make today extraordinary and you never have to worry.
Get Up Early – Assuming last night wasn't epic, make a habit of getting up early to add extra flexibility to your day while you have the capacity and flexibility to enjoy it. I'm not a morning person. No one is. But getting up early allows me to perform the "3 S's" (Sh**, Shower & Shave — guess which takes the longest) and still have time for the rest of my morning routine, pleasantly set to music via our kitchen iPod speakers. Subnote: sing along like the world will never know...because they probably won't.

With Your Spouse/Sig. Other/Dog
You may very well have a commitment, for better or worse to enhance someone's life. You have the opportunity to make someone else a better person. You have the ability to be a better person. But how?
Show Appreciation – Sometimes, saying "thank you" or "I love you" isn't enough. We all have well-rehearsed gender roles. And although I don't believe in those as a tradition, more often than not, Sarah ends up cooking because she doesn't suck at it. However, it helps to switch things up once in a while. I'm culinarily challenged but I've learned to grill (a little bit) and have discovered a few (emphasis on few) other recipes I can execute as readily as honey-nut cheerios. At the very least I try to help in small ways (I'm allowed to grate cheese and open wine). But sometimes I insist on stepping in, and Sarah's appreciation always preempts her distaste for my inept effort.
Go For a Walk –Whether you live with a person or beast, it is certain that you all would benefit from a brisk walk. Be it around the block or up a mountain, the pure endorphin release alone is worth the time and effort. But surely the caloric processing, the adventurous spirit, and the uncommon nature of the event is sure to spark new life into your weekly doldrums.
Get in a Fight – Sarah has nightmares that I've somehow become indifferent. I assure her, that that's the last thing she needs to worry about. Our intense personalities often clash, testing our trust and unconditional love. Yet fights are often the cumulative result of communication failures and while they're a last resort, they can be the pathway to real communication. Many useful revelations come from fights. Boundaries are set and improvements are implemented. All you have to do is make up. PS: Never underestimate the intimate power of making up.
Have a Dance Party –Don't turn on the TV. Pop a bottle of wine and share your latest MP3 acquisitions, turning your kitchen/living room into a private dance club. Pull the curtains, and dance like no one's watching. Forsake all inhibitions and general inclinations toward dignity and just freakin' go for it. Few things can release as many pheromones as a single dance session. What's more, chicks dig it. So consider this the elusive foreplay session you've been googling.
Go Out on a Date –Plan a special night. It can be 5-star or it can be take out. Just make sure that its intention begins and ends with quality time. If a friend calls with last minute concert tickets, too bad. Tonight is about eye contact, flirting, and hoping to hook up, like a first date.
Shock Them with Affection –It's Monday morning. You're both exhausted; fumbling for a clean travel mug; trying not to trip over each other in the phone booth you call a kitchen. Maybe you commute together, or maybe your syncopation ends in the driveway. Regardless: make it a point each day to kiss with intention before parting ways. I'm not talking about a quick peck. I'm not talking about a "don't mess up my lip balm" lip-check. I'm talking about sentence-stopping, lip-sucking, tooth-paste-tasting, Mary Chapin Carpenter "passionate kisses" every god damn day. It's not always possible, but if you have access to a pair of willing lips, there's NEVER a reason not to start a day this way.

But what do I know? I invite your suggestions on how to fight the melodrama of dark seasons and the numbness of day-to-day life in the comments to this post. Any ideas?

Our Yard-Sale

As part of a spring-cleaning effort, Sarah and I decided to have a yard-sale. We discussed it with our friendly neighbors, Nicole and Petie, and Mary and Neil. We planned for weeks and in preparation we placed ads on websites and in newspapers as well as placing signage around the neighborhood. When the big day arrived, we even announced it on the local Saturday morning classifieds radio show in Park City.

The morning started out well. We had a few quick sales, but we were hoping to sell some big ticket items like bikes and skis. Nicole proved to be the day’s most motivated seller, pricing items at pennies on the dollar. As the day wore on, we found ourselves enjoying the laziness of the event, sitting on the front lawn on Mary’s matching lawn furniture set, a steal at $100. We broke into a solid round (or two) of margaritas and watched the world ogle and evaluate our unwanted items. Some classic conversations went something like this:
“How much is this?”
“Ten cents.”
“Oh…Nevermind.”

Good times were had by all. And at the end of the day, we tallied and divvied and compared. Nicole and Petie came out on top with $120 sold. Neil and Mary were right behind them with $100. We on the other hand sold $30 worth of unwanted crap. However, factoring in that we also bought $10 worth of Nicole’s stuff, and spent $10 on the newspaper ad, and $10 on signage we actually broke even. And to add insult to injury, we’re expecting the Big Brothers-Big Sisters organization to pick the remaining items up for a charitable donation. Their first available time-slot for pickup was 2 weeks after the yard sale, so our garage is now packed, wall-to-wall with THREE family’s stuff. Ah well.

Home Improvement Update: The Deck

3 months into our tenure as bumbling rookie homeowners, we’re starting to settle into our space. Knick-knacks (BTW: we just spent a good 4 minutes debating the spelling of “knick-knacks” and the philosophy behind it. Hopefully we got it right) are finding their places on shelves, shelves and pictures are finding themselves on walls, and walls are happily adjusting to their new colors. We still have some touchups and final coats left to do on the walls. But thanks in no small part to help from Patty and Gary, we can soon put our paint supplies into long-term storage, deep in the abyss of our cluttered garage. The garage and its organizational well-being are also on our “List”. Recently, we’ve been chipping away at “The List” with other learn-as-we-go conquests like adding pergo flooring, new trim and crown moulding, and hanging track-lighting, and rigging a lighting kit for Patty’s hand-made tiffany chandelier in the kitchen. We also had the bedrooms re-carpeted, and hung new blinds on the southwest facing windows of the house. Even smaller victories are cause for celebration these days. For instance: we finally cropped and framed the tripdic panorama of Gooch’s Beach we shot 2 or 3 years ago. Reversing the swing of the refrigerator door was another life-altering experience for us. But it also granted the fridge itself a stay of execution as it’s asinine orientation had us temporarily baffled as to how and why (a professional handyman) the previous owner had lived with it so long. Another ongoing more ambitious task – one we delay by lying in bed this Saturday morning with the dogs in our new sleigh bed, 40-or-so inches above the ground on our new discounted pillow-top mattress – is the development of our backyard garden landscape. The addition of a raised “lazy” flowerbed along the back fence with a stone retaining wall as well as some trees for ambiance should compliment the mother of all home improvements: THE DECK.

Down the back of each row of townhomes in our neighborhood one sees the small complementary perches attached to the second-floor kitchens and third-floor master suites. Just large enough for a small grill or a single chair (but not both) these crows-nests are often replaced by a more substantial, family-sized deck. That was our goal when we enlisted our resident wood-master, Gary. He studied other decks in the neighborhood and drew up plans to suit our needs. Our ultimate design was to be a 14x14-foot space off the second floor kitchen, with stairs down to the yard and a balustered railing with gaps underneath for convenient snow removal. Future considerations may include the integration of stairs from the bedroom perch as well. Our additional concept of a 3-story fire-pole may be met with some opposition from the town office. So we’ll have to wait on that.

After receiving our permit from the town, and approval from our Home Owners Association, we set Gary into motion. His time is now being divided between the deck, his own home-improvement efforts at their new house in Sandy, Utah, and his new job in the tool and hardware department at Home Depot. Since acclimating to his new house he has been making regular trips up to Heber to complete his mission. His progress is starting to add up. Having removed the old deck he laid out and planned the footprints, dug holes and poured cement for the footings, installed the support cleat and he was ready for the large, pressure-treated posts. Joe helped him steady those beasts as the angles all fell into place as planned. The long boards that Gary had pre-cut and stained went up next completing the first and most important structural asset, the post and lintel (thanks Art History 101). A day later, like a man possessed, Gary had finished installing the entire framework with all the beams set up in their parallel glory, outlining the actual shape of the deck. As the deck starts to come together we are excited to pick out deck furniture and have people over. What’s more is that we can see the culmination of efforts as this house becomes a home. Our home. And we have to thank Gary (and Patty cheering him on from Maine) for all his hard work and patience, helping us along the way.

Things I’ve Learned: I Mow Therefore I Am

Having recently become a homeowner, it has become abundantly clear to me that mowing the lawn is a man’s last true refuge. More seasoned homeowners may prefer chopping wood or pounding nails. But I believe mowing to be the purest masculine pursuit. For starters, mowing involves the obvious: a motor. The gnarly roar is a powerful draw from the time we first toddle upon fresh cut grass. The allure is engrained in our fabric like the color red in our first double-stitched Woolrich shirt. I contend that even the most basic mower engine stirs a mysterious sense of pride in any man who ever primed an engine; who ever yanked a start cord; who ever so much as scooped a clump of grass from a clogged side shoot with his bare hands.

Easily overlooked however, is the very premise of cutting grass. There is something perfectly primal about beheading billions of insolent blades of grass per second. It's an underrated rush. We defend our castle. The idea that we as men are sworn to uphold our perimeter at all costs is an honor. We represent the delicate balance between the overtaking of weeds and a smooth, clean carpet. Perhaps it is our love of field sports that inspires our compulsion to create the perfect yard, the idea that an epic athletic battle could break out at any moment. Or perhaps more simply the aspiration of perfection, to whatever extent we may require it.

From the time a boy is first exposed to the art of lawn maintenance, his father passes on a legacy. Dad’s not looking for cheap day labor, but rather sharing in the one true experience that makes and bonds men: the satisfaction of a smooth clean lawn. Having mowed since I could walk, I never recognized that satisfaction until I recently acquired a patch of my own. The pleasure I derive from simply cutting the grass is a weekly highlight, as is the pride I enjoy upon copletion. It’s my rite, my escape, my destiny. When we mow, we mow to our own satisfaction. We have routines, techniques even. We mow the right way, however that may be for us: in grids; in patterns; quickly; deliberately. We pick up poop. We trim. Sometimes we make two passes. We prep the grass. We water it before bed. We fertilize. We thatch. We move furniture around to even out the light exposure. We obsess over details not because of how it looks, but because we don’t know any better.

I remark in partial jest that the lawn may be the only component over which a man exercises true control. It can be the only time he is right. Certainly there are variables over which he has little or no control, but a man who mows is never wrong in the eyes of the lawn. He is not second-guessed and he need make no apologies for his actions. No one would dare take the mower out of his hands for every house has only one true lord of the lawn.

A man who mows is accomplished. The lawn is either done or it’s not. A man can grill but is constantly catering to his family's tastes. A man can set up the electronics, but only with the majority approval of all parties. A man can change a fuel belt but there’s only one right way. A man who mows however, needs only simple words to completely recognize for his usefulness: words like “Lawn looks great, Hon.” Or “Nice job on the grass, Dad.” No more, no less. When we mow, a sunburn becomes a badge of honor. Pink shoulders and backs despite the sting are actually a comfort at night.

Mowing prowess is admittedly self-explanatory. There are some tricks to the trade, but basically any idiot can do it. It speaks to the hunter-gatherer in us. We need these simple tasks to keep our strength in the absence of hunting and/or gathering. (Please note that I make no nostalgic comparisons to quick trips to the grocery store or the conspicuous, hand-written notes I require to complete my gathering mission.) Ah but mowing. Mowing is a refuge for the every man. Even guys like me who thought it would be nice to buy an electric mower because it might save the earth. Although I assure you I feel less like Bono and more like Curly Howard tripping over that cord, even THAT mower delivers the clean precision a guy needs.

I say next time you’re feeling docile, or contemplating if you’ve been having too much red meat, go out and mow something. You’ll need your own patch of grass. You can borrow a mower to start, but eventually you will need your own. A push mower, a riding mower, electric start or straight manual—doesn’t matter. Just mow the shit out of it. I promise you’ll go to bed satisfied knowing that the grass is clean, the weeds are at bay and your old sneakers, beautifully stained with chlorophyll, are grinning in the closet.

More On The House

Just checkin' in. Happy Summer everyone. Sorry we haven't written much lately. Our computer hasn't been set up for a while. And we're still getting settled. Most of the painting is done. We Pergoed the kitchen floor and still need to replace the trim. The bedrooms are newly recarpeted and we're setting in to those closets.

We ripped out a bunch of the old fixtures and have been carefully decorating. We've hit a few snags here and there. Soft drywall and poorly laid anchors have made for some interesting patch jobs. But nothing too bad. We've also become painfully aware of the trials of hard water. So a water softener will be the next major purchase.

We'll also be looking in to some basic lawn maintenance items. We're borrowing a manual mower with the rotating blade which gets the job done. It's a little silly, but not as silly as some of our neighbors who have riding mowers with headlights and cup-holders to mow a 0.1 acre lot.

We have also officially pimped out the garage. Our various shelving units are savng lots of space, but our Rubbermaid© FastTrack System is awesome for storing the 6 bikes and 12 (or so) pairs of skis that are currently in there. Plus with Patty and Gary moving out in a week or so, we'll be building a work bench so space is at a premium.

We love the neighborhood too. We have a nice cross breeze that comes through so we pretty much never use the central air conditioning. And we're able to run out the front door with the dogs and let them off leash 100 yards down the road. Our road becomes a dirt road that extends for miles between cow pastures with a 360° mountain view. Plus there's irrigation ditches and stream crossings where the dogs can cool off. The town of Heber is also a wonderful place. The main drag has all kinds of stores and restaurants. Nothing fancy, but everything you need. The movie theater has one cinema and gives your change in $2 bills and 50¢ pieces. The bowling alley is the happening place on Friday nights. We haven't been yet, but the parking lot is always jammed. There's also a rodeo down the street so close we can hear the PA announcer at night.

Anyway, that's the latest. I might head home to let the dogs out at lunch. Tonight I might sit in the back yard with a glass of wine and watch the sprinkler water the lawn. It's a lot more exciting than it sounds.

We Bought a House

Well it's almost a year to the day since we moved to Utah. When we moved out we figured, we'll give it a year, get acclimated, be sure we like it, and then figure out where we want to buy. Apparently that's exactly what happened. Our apartment in Midvale has served us well. Close to the mountains and the city, we've enjoyed a spacious, comfortable apartment with a killer view. But for all its conveniences, we lacked the sense of permanence we desire. After considering neighborhoods from south Salt Lake to Oakley, we focused on budget, location, and practicality. Our new townhouse fits all of those requirements. And after a 45 day "not so typical" real estate ordeal, we closed escrow and can officially call it "ours". We apologize if anyone feels out of the loop, as we tried not to jinx the deal by telling everyone.

Our House (...is a very very very fine house...) is in Heber City, a small rural valley town 15 minutes southeast of Park City, where we both work and do a majority of our playing as well. It's a 3-story townhouse with an attached garage and a relatively large fenced in yard. It has 3 bedrooms and 2.5 bathrooms. Sarah is particularly excited to have a bathroom all to herself as our morning "routines" often compete. The neighborhood is a newly constructed suburban oasis amidst honest-to-God cattle farms and breathtaking Wasatch and Uinta Mountain vistas. Heber boasts 1 grocery store, a couple gas stations, and the most happening bowling alley this side of The Great Lebowski.

Not only will our new commute be less than half it's current length, but rather than drive the congested Parley's Canyon stretch of I-80 every day, we now drive on the more civil and luxurious route 40. Instead of driving 9 miles up a 6° grade mountain pass at breakneck speeds while jockeying for position between lurching semis commandeering 2 of 3 lanes at 20 mph and big-boy, flag-waving pickups roaring up the hill at 90 mph — we'll be enjoying a casual stroll through farmlands, mountain lakes, and green, rolling hills, far from the hazy inversion of the Salt Lake Valley. And coincidently, when The Sundance Film Festival comes roaring into town like Puff Daddy on a parade float, we'll be able to skip the nonsensical red-carpet bottleneck at Kimball Junction and sneak into Park City via "the back door".

Our new home is "cozy". 1500 square feet divided between 3 floors. The warm burgundy entry way may be the only area that doesn't see a coat of paint right away. The former "artist in residence" had a different vision for color and design. He also had 4 kids and a trampoline (read "Utah swimming pool") and a swing set in the back yard. The back yard is enclosed by a 6 foot vinyl privacy fence, perfect for the dogs. And since our townhouse is an "end unit" the yard actually wraps around the side of the house, doubling the size. The second floor kitchen is well laid out, including a permanent center island and (soon to be) hardwood floor. A half-bath separates the kitchen/dining room from the sunny living room with gas fireplace. The upstairs has two symmetrical bedrooms with ample (not abundant) closet space and two bathrooms. the guest room has a clear view of spectacular Mount Timpanogas, home of Robert Redford's Sundance Resort. Fittingly, our first guest in that room is a lifelong Robert Redford fan.

We're very excited about this stage of adulthood. It still seems unreal to us. But we have many plans for the place. Suddenly we're excited about mowing a lawn, because it's ours. We'll be planting our own trees and gardens. We'll build out the second floor deck (with the experience help of Sarah's dad, of course). We'll have a place to clean and maintain our bikes! Our garage will most likely never see a car for all the "projects" that will go on in there.

Anyway, feel free to come on out for a housewarming. We're at:
488 W. Inverness Ln.
Heber City, UT 84032