Observationally Speaking - Richard Timothy

Disney and the Dark Side

by Richard Timothy | Apr 20, 2011 | Borrowed Smirk, Nearly News, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking

I don’t know about you, but when I think Disney, the first thing that always comes to mind… “Jedi training”. Ok fine, truth is I’ve never connected Jedi’s to Disney in my entire life… that is until yesterday. I came across a little news blurb about an event that happened at the Jedi Training Academy at Disneyland (Tomorrowland) that was just, well, so strong in the force that I couldn’t help but Smirk about it.

So apparently this Jedi Training Academy is a live-action show where volunteers, kids ages 4 to 12, are randomly selected from the audience to become Padawans, aka Jedi’s in training, aka the little ones who have yet to take off the training wheels from their “force” filled bicycle of life. To those Star Wars purists who may feel a twinge of rage as the complete and utter blatant disregard for true Padawan selection, just remember it’s for the kids and it is Disney, so it will never be a true representation of reality… especially when that reality is completely made up.

The audience selected Padawans are taken on stage where they don the Padawan dirt colored robe and begin to train with a “Jedi Master”. As an audience member, aka the kids not selected to go on stage or the parents to the kid either not selected to go on stage or to one of the kids on stage, you get to sit and watch the little people in their brown robes recite the sacred Jedi Oath.

But wait! That’s not all! You also get to stare in amazement as these kids are trained by a “true” Jedi Master in “ancient battle techniques” using their light sabers. Ok, now I’ll admit watching a bunch of little kids run around on stage trying to whack the other Padawans on stage is a plastic light saber just reeks of comedic value… like the four year olds at a dance recital, there is not telling what the outcome will be, but you know you are going to laugh.

So after the getting geared up, after the Oath, and after the light saber training finally comes the conflict, a disturbance in the force. Followed by a cameo by the man in black himself… no, the other man in black, not the original man in black. I just can’t imagine a bunch of 4 to 12 year olds getting all that excited about seeing a Johnny Cash look alike, although for the record I’m pretty sure he could have beaten Vader down. Anyway, so Darth shows up leading a bunch of Stormtroopers.

This beings the climax of the show, where one of the newly Oathed and Trained Padawans gets the honor of facing off with the Lord or the Dark Side. Sounds a little daunting doesn’t it? Well earlier this year as the battle was reaching its peak; a young aspiring Padawan Sariah Gallego was selected to battle Darth Vader on the stage in front of everyone. She walked straight up to the intimidating Dark Lord and as they stood face to face, the faithful Padawan dropped to one knee and pledged her allegiance to the Dark Lord. (There is also a video of this exchange available, click here.)

According to the news blurb the young and now former Padawan was then promptly escorted off stage. I can only hope she kept yelling, “Die you rebel scum!” as she was pulled off stage. Ah, there is nothing like placing an unscripted child into a controlled Disney environment to give you a nice refreshing splash of reality. Personally, I think the force is really rather strong with that one.

Image Sources:
Google Images, keywords: Jedi Training Academy, kneeling before Darth Vader, and Fairy Vader.

Remembering Al

by Richard Timothy | Apr 18, 2011 | Fiction, Gratefully Grateful, Life Characters, Nearly News, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking

With today being the 56th anniversary of Albert Einstein’s passing I thought it might be nice to dedicate today’s Smirk to the man with the crazy hair.

I get that Al was one of the most, if not the most, brilliant mind in the 20th century, but for some reason whenever I think of him, the first place I go is the image of him sticking out his tongue at the camera.

I mean sure eventually I get to the E=MC2 persona, but it always takes a little time. I’ve even watched a documentary about the man and was surprised at how obsessed he became with his work. So much so that his health started to suffer as a result, which, in my opinion, lead to this little know mathematical gem of his:

W/E = (S) : ( + CH
Work over everything equals sickness, times a sad face, plus crazy hair.

Even though his scientist friends laughed at this new formula, he knew it was true. He had lived it after all. It was during this recovery that Al discovered the importance of balance in one’s life. Work is important, but for longevity and peace of mind you have to make sure to take time for yourself and take time to laugh with life. This new philosophy resulted in the invention of an entirely new system of math for the purpose of creating the following formula:

[~~OK~~] ([~~/\~~]) = xK\~~~~ + 1 : ) [~~/\~~]*
A man in water, times a shark in water equals a dead man under water, plus one happy face shark in water.
*A special thank you to my Facebook friend Paula Caddick for educating me on the basics behind this formula.

And even though those last two equations are not to be taken a factual statements, it does not change the importance on their message or the sure brilliance of the made up math involved. Still, apart from being a genius Al is still a source of many truly grand and Smirk inspiring quotes. Here are ten of my favorites:

“There are two ways to live your life – one is as though nothing is a miracle, the other is as though everything is a miracle.”
“The secret to creativity is knowing how to hide your sources.”
“The only thing that interferes with my learning is my education.”
“The whole of science is nothing more than a refinement of everyday thinking.”
“If A is a success in life, then A equals x plus y plus z. Work is x; y is play; and z is keeping your mouth shut.”
“Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I’m not sure about the universe.”
“The life of the individual has meaning only insofar as it aids in making the life of every living thing nobler and more beautiful. Life is sacred, that is to say, it is the supreme value, to which all other values are subordinate.”
“People do not grow old no matter how long we live. We never cease to stand like curious children before the great Mystery into which we were born.”
“I am content in my later years. I have kept my good humor and take neither myself nor the next person seriously.”
“Time is what prevents everything from happening at once.”

There are a number of Einstein photos available on the net, so to finish off this ode to Al I thought I’d give my own personal interpretation for some of my favorite Einstein photos:

Little know fact, this photo of Einstein riding a bike was the inspiration for Queen’s hit single “Bicycle Race.”

This photo of Einstein pointing at what I assume is a reporter who has a question for him seems to perfectly capture the following made up quote, “One more intentionally misleading statement out of you Mr. Rupert Murdoch and someone is gonna get the hurt real bad.”

(I was going to go with a “full my finger quote”, but that’s just too easy.)

In this photo of Al giggling profusely, what the photographer failed to miss was the puppy licking Al’s bare toes.

So on this day of remembrance, let me just say thanks Al, not just for all that science stuff, but for keeping us laughing for the 56 years since you experienced life’s greatest mystery. Here’s to you, cheers!

Image Sources:
Google Images, keywords: Albert Einstein and puppy licking toes.

The Squirrelly Triumph of ’92

by Richard Timothy | Apr 8, 2011 | I Think There's a Point, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking

This Smirk happened during my first real summer job after graduating high school. For the record, I did have a job for a month prior to this job. The motivation for getting a new job was not because I was opposed to scooping ice cream for people, or that I had to watch the gift shop at the same time which was at the other end of the building, no, it was the babysitting the bosses thirteen year old grandson who was making $10 more an hour than I was and being held responsible for his mistakes. Not only did a month of this cause me to look for a new job, but gleefully take the very next job I was offered… even if it was shoveling horse sh… cleaning up after horses. Turned out the next job I got was horse and shovel free. However, it did include some cleaning up after others.

I got a job at a resort literally just up the street from the other place I was working at. This job however was sort of a jack of all trades position. I cleaned rooms, washed dishes, worked the at gift shop, waited tables and mowed lawns. Eventually I graduated from room cleaning to cooking breakfast at the restaurant I would wash dishes for at night. They didn’t pay any overtime, but they let me work as much as I wanted, which saved them having to hire someone else that would take away from my hours… I was eighteen and making money. At the time I honestly didn’t care that I didn’t have time for anything other than work and sleep, besides it was only for the summer.

Anyway, this specific experience happened over a three month period and involves Tara, the bosses Doberman Pinscher. She was… old and refused to go gently into that good night. I think she was eleven or twelve at the time, and those are people years by the way, and how that dog loved to hunt. I remember one afternoon, after finish up my lunch shift in the restaurant and heading back to the tiny RV I was renting, to avoid a daily hour and half total commute, to take a shower and change before going back to wash dishes for the dinner shift. Tara came jogged toward me out of the field next to the RV. As she trotted up to me I noticed that she had a mouthful of dirt with blades of grass a good foot and a half long sticking out of each side of her mouth. She was very happy, very excited, and what appeared to be beaming with self pride.

Once in an open area she opened her mouth and let the contents fall out. In the midst of all the dirt and grass and three rocks the side of robin eggs, out plopped a gopher, mostly twitching and defiantly more dead than alive. The only thing I could guess is that as she stood motionless in front of the gopher’s hole waiting for it to come out. When it finally did, she just opened her mouth and charged, scooping up the gopher and everything else in her path. Tara’s owner would tell me stories about her and what an amazing yet patient hunter she was, and how she was much better at keeping the fields clear of rodents than any cat ever would be. He was very proud of his dog, for she had never been defeated… that is, not until that summer when Tara finally met her match.

I called him Arthur, after the king who had spent a very comical scene in a Disney cartoon running around a tree as a squirrel. I have no idea if Arthur was even a he. What I do know is that the battle that waged between he and Tara kept me entertained and always watchful toward what was happening in the front tree lined area of the parking lot.

In front of the hotel was a big grassy area that was then lined at the far end next to the parking lot with thirty foot high pine trees. Turned out Arthur had decided to make those trees his home for the summer. Tara became aware of this intruder very early on in the season and would spend hours unmoving and staring up into the tree Arthur was in just waiting for the little varmint to decide that the coast was clear and that it could run down one tree across some grass and up into a new tree. Arthur on the other hand was well aware of this and I’m sure thought Tara a bit slow in the head if she actually thought that he could not see her standing still waiting for him to come down.

As the summer wore on, so did the intensity of the animosity between Arthur and Tara. Tara was annoyed because she had not yet caught and eaten Arthur, and Arthur was annoyed because of the big dog that would watch him all day greatly restricted his tree to tree access. Eventually, Arthur started getting a bit belligerent about the whole thing. He’d run down to the trunk of the tree, low enough that Tara could clearly see him, but just high enough that she could not reach him if she were to suddenly jump up and snap at him. There he would proceed to bark at Tara for about twenty to thirty minute intervals and then would run up the tree and start dropping pine cones in an attempt to hit Tara on the head, motivating her to leave him alone… which worked on more than one occasion.

The climax of this summer long battle happened one afternoon about three weeks before we closed for the season. I was mowing the grassy area of the front of the hotel using a riding lawn mower. It looked as though both Tara and Arthur had chosen to turn in early; they always did when I was mowing out front. The blaring sound of the lawn mower was more annoying to them than the battle they were having with each other. They always called for a time out when I would show up on that mower. I was on my third yet significantly smaller lap when I noticed one of the pine trees suddenly shake and pull to the left, it the one that was most suited for Christmas decorations since the branches went all the way to the ground. It was a little odd, I’d never seen a tree behave like that before, although I think Tolkien may have written something about the behaviors of trees, but I didn’t recall this specific pattern. As I sat there with my foot on the brake and the motor putting loudly, it happen again.

This time I turned off the mower and stood up, looking at the tree, my head half cocked and giving a very sincere and genuine “what the hell” look. Again, another big shake and pull to the left, then out of the bar marched Mike, heading straight for the tree. There was one more shake and pull to the left before Mike got to the front of the tree. He held up one hand to help block the needled from poking him in the face and then with the other hand he pushed aside one of the needle covered branches and disappeared into the belly of the tree. There were a few more shakes, as if the tree was trying to digest the cause of whatever had just happen under its protective needles, and out came Mike holding in his arms an eighty pound, black and brown Doberman named Tara.

“She was five feet off the ground climbing after that damn squirrel,” said Mike as he walked past me back to the hotel. I started laughing and looked back and the tree. Seconds later out came Arthur running toward Mike and Tara, stopping halfway between them at the tree. He barked twice, turned around, and ran up to a new tree and soon disappeared into the branches. Ballsy little varmint, I’ll give Arthur that. The image of Tara climbing a tree in an attempt to capture and eat her arch nemesis and Mike walking out of that tree with Tara in his arms kept me laughing the rest of that summer. In fact is still does. She had such a disappointed look in her eye too. It was like she had figured out how to defeat her foe and had it taken away from her just as she was about to become triumphant… all because of some silly rule her human had about dogs not being allowed to climb trees.

In the end, I think some might call it a draw since neither one went anywhere, but technically since Tara was the one trying to eat Arthur and since Arthur did not get eaten, I guess you could say he won, but I’d never say that in front of the dog.

Image Sources:
Google Images, keywords: squirrel!, dog climbing tree, doberman digging, and squirrel barking at dog

What Kind of Camper are You?

by Richard Timothy | Apr 2, 2011 | I Think There's a Point, Lightbulbs and Soapboxes, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking, Public Service Announcement

This Smirk began as a Facebook post that I borrowed from some random post on ruminations.com, a highly entertaining resource for random thoughts and observations made by everyday people. In fact a lot of my random one-liners I post on Facebook come from there. The post I’m referring to is, “If you’re camping and you have WiFi, you’re not camping.” Turned out, this got me thinking about camping and what it even means anymore.

I know what it used to mean. It meant complete isolation from the populated world. You embraced the nomadic lifestyle of our hunter/gatherer ancestors and would strap an industrial sized backpack with padded shoulders straps and a belt to help take some of the weight off your back and shoulders. You brought your house and your bed with you (a tent and sleeping bag), and food, or something to catch your food with like a gun or a fishing pole. You had to go find your own rocks to build a campfire circle and hunt for wood dry enough to be used for your camp fire, and “cheating” was considered bringing some lighter fluid to help you start a fire, although some of the “puritan” campers would say that bringing matches let alone a lighter was cheating.

On more than one occasion in my youth I went camping in the middle of winter, of course it was for scouts. Now perhaps I leaned some valuable survival skills being a part of a club that requires you to take part in a winter camping weekend where you go into the woods and spend the afternoon digging a snow cave that you actually use as shelter for the night, and your only heat source is a candle you personally constructed using wax coated cardboard rolled up and placed into an empty tuna fish tin. That experience specifically brings a lot of memories to mind and, well, let me just say… screw you Boy Scouts of America! Seriously, that organization did more to cater to and sculpt my hate for spending the night in nature than all the Friday the 13th films combined.

I realize that the camping has changed since I was a kid. It has gone through a bit of an evolution and honestly I’m all for it. Now, even though I’m not really a camper, I can still “camp” based on the new hybrid camping options for people not willing to commit to the true and pure form of camping. As I see it, here are one’s current camping options:

True Camping
This is the type of camping where there is no question of whether you are camping or not.

Camp Access: Zero road access, you have to hike at least half a mile to get to your camp site. 4x4ing or using an ATV to get to the camp site does not count; it’s cheating and will never count as true camping. However, using horses, or canoes is an acceptable option.
Shelter: A tent that you had to haul with you and put together once you arrived at the camp site. Using a tarp draped over a branch to make a self made tent is not only allowed, but does qualify you as a “hard core” true camper. Note that there are a number different variables that qualify you for this extreme camping classification, but will not be addressed in this Smirk (fell free to add them in the comments if you have your own).
Sleep option: A sleeping bag. If you want some cushion use hand pulled grass and place it on the ground under your sleeping bag. In some warmer climates it is common to sleep on top of the sleeping bag under the open sky, or in a hammock.
Running Water: Rivers or creeks only, and if you want hot water for your coffee/tea you have to boil it over an open fire.
Cell Phone: Zero coverage. No bars, no texts, no emails, and no Facebook updates or Tweets. In fact the only thing your phone is good for is to tell time and as a flashlight at night until the batter dies… there is absolutely no recharging your phone in true camping. Also, the only allowable electronic device when truly camping is a flashlight, and possibly a digital camera for documenting the trip. Any MP3 players or any device that allows you to watch a movie or play a game automatically demotes you from “true camping.”

Mostly Camping
This is the type of camping where ones addiction to their toys limits their ability to become a true camper. Most of the essentials of true camping stay intact, such as using a tent and sleeping bag, and not having any artificial running water like showers or toilets. Road access is still a no no, but how you get to the camp site can alter a bit. This usually happens through the use of one or multiple ATVs getting your goods to camp. This equates to foam pads you can sleep on, and food in coolers, even ice cold beer that does not have to be stored in the river to keep it cold. Bringing a grill to place over the fire to cook the store bought meat is also a possibility. However, electronic components are still out minus the previously mentioned camera and/or flashlight, and some sort of music playing device, either electronic (iPod, etc.) or music instruments that you personally play (guitar, harmonica, bongos, etc). I stand firm in supporting the idea that the key reason for camping is to unplug and get closer to nature.

Sort of Camping
The first thing is that you have road access, but you are in a forested and/or nature filled setting. Like when you go to assigned camp sites in national parks or forests, or KOA campgrounds (but only if you are sleeping outside and in a tent and not in one of their little cabins). Yes, you still need to be in a tent or a similar structure for sleeping. There are out houses or restrooms close by, and in some cases you have running water, and sometimes you will even have access to take a hot shower. However, in some instances the water dispensers will have a sign next them informing you whether the water is safe to drink or is only for washing up. You may or may not have cell phone coverage, but you can easily recharge it in your car, which is about 10 to 40 feet from your camp. Also, if it gets too cold or a storm begins you can always leave your tent and escape to sleep inside your car for the night.

Pretend Camping
Pretend camping consists of sleeping in a nature filled area, again like a KOA campground or a some similar place, but you end up staying in a place that has a solid floor, a roof overhead and an electrical outlet. These places have beds and one light… in short you experiencing a “roughing it” hotel visit. I once stayed in a yurt in on a beach in Oregon, yes it was a big tent, but there were three beds and an electric heater. We were right by the beach, but I had no disillusions, we were pretending to camp.

There is a different type of pretend camping where people set up a tent in their yard and “camp” for the night. Traditionally this is reserved for the smaller people of the world, and no, I am not talking about that group of people that prefer the PC identifier of little people. No, I mean kids, and just because you are spending the night in a tent, if you can still have a plate of pizza rolls hand delivered at a moment’s notice by your mother… all you are doing in that tent is pretending… and maybe staying up late reading comic books. In truth you are having a sleep over and nothing more… which brings me to today’s final camping category.

“You’re Not Camping” Camping
If you are staying in a furnished log cabin, or in an RV, guess what? You’re not camping. Even if you are out in the woods surrounded by nature, there is nothing remotely campish about this type of camping. Still, some people chose to call it camping, which is why I’ve added it to the list. I think the general rule of thumb is that if you have a fully functioning kitchen, running water, a television and DVD or gaming consol, central heating and cooling, and a bed with sheets and a comforter, well, you can call it any word you want, but you my friend are not, and never will be camping in this type of environment… I’m just saying.

Well there you have it, my list for deciphering the type of camping you enjoy and the type of camper you are. Personally, I prefer the “You’re not camping” camping. Don’t get me wrong I like to see nature, take pictures, and go on nice walks together. It’s just that I’m not that interested in spending the night together… can’t we just be friends and leave it at that?

What kind of camper are you?

Image Sources:
Google Images, keywords: camping, camping in snow cave, hiking with backpack, camping by car, and RV camping.

Putting the Dog back in Dogma

by Richard Timothy | Mar 24, 2011 | Borrowed Smirk, My List of Things that Don't Suck, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking, Visual Smirk

There has always been something inherently entertaining to me about the dogma marquee outside places of worship. Sometimes they are inspiring, other times they are anything but, some get judgmental or fear based, and once in a while absolutely priceless, much like a four year old trying to tell you something they consider to be very, very serious, but end up botching it so badly that all you can do is laugh.

Some of my favorite’s that I’ve personally been witness to were gems like, “The best form of birth control, close your legs.” I saw that one when I was living in Tacoma, Washington. There was a church right across the street from the apartment I was living in and the preacher was constantly putting up random sayings like that.

Another one I remember is, “Heaven isn’t too far away.” I did wonder if they realized they were quoting the lyrics of and 80s hair band that, sadly, also gave the world the unfortunate hit Cherry Pie. I would say it is safe to assume they did not.

Then there are times when these little signs feel compelled to begin pointing the finger of judgment, and this marquee text finger happens to point at the church across the street. The pictures below come from a blog that I visit from time to time called Status Viatoris, the musings of a gal from the Britain living in Italy. The images document a little church sign conversation between a Catholic church and a Presbyterian church focusing on the dog dogma. I got a good chuckle out of it, enough so that I’d like to share it with all of you. I hope you enjoy this borrowed Smirk as much as I did.

Catholic Church Sign

All dogs go to heaven.

Presbyterian Church Sign

Only humans go to heaven. Read the bible.

Catholic Church Sign

God loves all his creations, dogs included.

Presbyterian Church Sign

Dogs don’t have souls. This is not open for debate.

Catholic Church Sign

Catholic dogs go to heaven. Presbyterian dogs can talk to their pastor.

Presbyterian Church Sign

Converting to Catholicism does not magically grant your dog a soul.

Catholic Church Sign

Free dog souls with conversion.

Presbyterian Church Sign

Dogs are animals. There aren’t any rocks in heaven either.

Catholic Church Sign

All rocks go to heaven.

Can I get an amen?

Image Sources:
Status Viatoris web site and Google Images, keywords: angel dog.

What I Learned at a Woman’s Convention

by Richard Timothy | Mar 18, 2011 | My Cutie Baby Sweetie Pie, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking, Reviewed and Recommended

I went to a woman’s conference this past weekend… yes intentionally, and I began taking a few Smirk-inspired notes about a few observations I had being one of a handful of men there out of over two hundred women. I suppose the first question one might ask, what was I doing at a woman’s conference?

I wish I could chalk this one up to “it was for the experience”, kind of like that whole pedicure excursion I Smirked about last week. But no, the main reason for me being there is very similar to the main reason men go to the ballets, go to Josh Groban concerts, or sit through movies like the Notebook or Sex in the City 1 and 2. That’s right it’s because I am in a committed relationship to a woman I love and adore, my sweetie-baby-cutie-pie-wifey-pooh, Angela… who just so happened to be the one that put on the conference I was attending. It was her second year of putting on her Ignite Your Spark event and it just keeps getting better.

Being one of three men attending a conference compiled of over two hundred women I felt I was in a rather interesting observational position. I’ll admit my observation skills are a little off beat at time, which I blame on losing my sense of rhythm when I was a kid… along with my first wallet. Still, put me in an audience of people clapping in unison and nine out of nine times, yes 100% of the time, I’m going to screw up the simple task of clapping with the beat. This is why I usually just tap my feet or my hand next to my leg instead of that full blown hand above my head clapping while I flail around in what I can only describe as a fit of anti-rhythm. Yep, my superhero power is the ability to unleash anti-rhythm, which causes one to fail to make a single movement in beat with the music. Sadly, I am the only one affected by this super power when I unleash it. I always suspected this about myself, but it became quite clear to me during the closing ceremony Saturday night. I’m just glad the lights were turned down.

This next observation was made by a friend of mine. He was there staffing his wife’s vendor booth while she attended the conference. He came up to me during one of the breaks and asked, “Rich, you want to know the most serene, calm and quiet place at this event? The men’s bathroom.” Naturally I had to test this claim. So, in the midst of all these women visiting with each other, visiting sponsor booths, using the restroom, calling and texting friends about the amazing breakthroughs they just had, I walked into the men’s room. It was around 11AM and only one of four sinks that had been used, the other three were completely dry; they had not been used all day. It was quiet and calm and you would have never guessed the energy and excitement that was going on just outside the door, until…

Knock, knock, knock… “Hello? Is anyone in here?” and around the corner to door popped the head of one of the attendees. “Oh, sorry, are you about done?”

“Uh, yeah.”

She then proceeded to explain her intrusion, “There’s only one women’s room on this floor and it’s a little packed, and there’s a line and we thought if there was no one in here we might as well use the restroom that isn’t being used.”

“Makes sense,” I said as I washed my hands, “it’s all yours.”

Now obviously I didn’t need to wash my hands, since I had not performed any functions that required the washing of hands, I was just there to experience the silence. However, when you find yourself in a conversation with some stranger, male or female, that walks in on you while you are standing in a bathroom, you really don’t want to walk out of that room without washing your hands, not unless your goal is to ensure that no one else will shake your hand the rest of the day.

As I walked out, a group of ladies walked in. “Good for them,” I thought. They saw a situation that needed to be handled and handle it they did… well done.

The next knowledge nugget was picked up as a result of the room Angela and I stayed in each night of the event… Sleep by Number bed and nothing but glorified air mattress and suck all the comfort and ease of sleep out of you so you wake up tired, achy, pissy, and committed to dropping at least ten f-bombs about how worthless the bed is. I really think the only selling point that would cause anyone to every consider one of these monstrosities of sleepless nights is the fact that it’s a bed with a remote control… some people are quite dedicated to a remote control lifestyle. So if you enjoy an uncomfortable bed that had a remote allowing you to make the bed even more uncomfortable, well then this is the bed for you… stupid bed (obviously I’m not still bitter).

I do think events like this create miracles for people, and by miracles I mean an extremely outstanding or unusual event, thing, or accomplishment. Yes, and based on that definition I’m pretty sure I took part in a miracle, one that I shared with Angela on the last day of the conference. See, I have this rather groovy white button up shirt, which Angela loves when I wear it. So naturally I packed it with me. Then, Saturday morning after getting up, and after completing my obligatory bought of uncensored profanity directed at that stupid bed, I accomplished something extremely outstanding and unusual, for me. I have only attempted this one other time in my life and it went so well the first time I have not attempted it again in over twenty years… I got out my groovy white shirt… and ironed it.

I didn’t iron it well by any stretch, but I did iron it. I even got close to 40% of the wrinkles out of it. I was so impressed with myself and my miraculous experience that once I was dressed and out the door, the first thing I did was find Angela and tell her about my conference miracle. Sure she laughed, but she was also in shock and dismay that I actually ironed something that I was wearing. I even got a big hug and kiss from her as a result. Go me. Hey miracles are subjective and are entirely specific toward the person involved. If a person who has never played golf in their life gets a hole in one, well, it’s a miracle. Now if a professional golfer more gets a hole in one, it’s just considered skill and not a miracle at all. So trust me when I tell you that me ironing a shirt and finishing with fewer wrinkles than when I started, you can bet your ass it’s a bloody miracle.

One of the things I loved about this event was not just experiencing some personal breakthroughs in my life, but seeing some of the huge life altering changes that others experienced. Some people were filled with moments of clarity about themselves. Others let their walls fall down and opened themselves up to the truth that they are amazing; they are worth loving themselves and being loved by others. It makes me sad when people forget their own greatness. However, being able to attend an event where people are constantly reminded not only of their own greatness, but that they are worthy of that greatness, not to mention the abundance of support that all the attendees are giving them in regards to how amazing they truly are, it’s, well, it’s illuminating and it was an honor to be there.

Here are some of the highlights from the event, put together by the videographer, feel free to check it out. (If the video does not play, chick here.)