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Showing posts from 2017

Booze, Gambling, Gangsters, Flappers, and Dogs ... a Roaring Twenties Halloween

Every Halloween brings another annual fundraiser for the Amanda Foundation , our local dog & cat rescue. This was our third year working the main gig but our first time doing the group dog-walk, the pre-event to garner attention for the fundraiser. I even got my official Amanda shirt, which was akin to a superhero uniform. The moment I put it on, I felt empowered, like I had more authority to tell dogs what's what. Every volunteer was assigned a pup to walk. I got Turner, a friendly and excitable dog. His costume was technically "king." It even came with a crown, which had zero chance of staying on, given how active he was. At first, this was what happened when a kid saw Turner ... "Superman!" the kid squeals. "No no no," I say. "He's king." Repeat. Fifteen minutes later ... "Superman!"the kid squeals. "Yup," I sigh. "Superman." Michelle's dog, Chikis, was the opposite of Turner.

The Beauty from Falling Down

I lack athleticism. In particular, I used to fear balls. When I was tiny, I would cry when my Dad tried to throw a ball to me. Not a hard one, but one of those big red rubber balls that even toddlers could abuse. Unsurprisingly, I turned out to be the worst batter on my little league team. In my sole season, I only hit the baseball once. Inadvertently. Yet somehow, I grew up to love basketball. Because I worshiped Kareem Abdul-Jabbar of the 80s Lakers, I developed a hook shot. It is neither graceful nor accurate, but serviceable for the average pickup game. What I lack in athleticism I make up for in appearance. Looking like you know what you're doing is more reassuring to others than actually knowing what you're doing—also true for much of life. Just ask any politician. This is me running in a Utah national park. See that motion blur of my arms? Pump your arms really fast; it provides the illusion that you're speedy. Zoom in on my stupid face. Yeah, blow th