Hecka Stupid

For those who don't know, California is culturally divided into "So Cal" (Southern California) and "No-Cal" or "Nor-Cal" (Northern California. I think the dividing line is somewhere around Bakersfield, but as a transplant to the state, I'm not a respected authority on the subject). That being said, I wish to comment on an annoying phenomenon spreading around No-Cal: the use of the prefix "hecka" in front of another word. An example is "hecka delicious." Apparently, "hecka" is a sanitized version of "hella" itself a shortened version of "helluva" which itself is a condensed version of "hell of a." If you extrapolate the phrase "hecka delicious" it makes no sense. You wouldn't, for example, say "hell of a delicious" by itself, without some subject behind it. You could, for example, say that was one "hell of a delicious pie," although the person who baked the pie might feel awkward at hearing that. Still, it would make more sense that just saying, after eating the pie, "hecka delicious."

Now, where I'm from, the word "hell" is one of the low-dose cuss words. If the F-word was Oxycotin or Vicodin, "hell" is more of children's Tylenol, candy coated or something. Thus, there really is no need for the use of "hecka." In fact, the acceptance of "hecka" into the vernacular of children up here in No-Cal could actually be detrimental to their vocabularies. Just as marijuana is a gateway drug to stronger more potent narcotics, the use of "hecka" can equally lead to the use of "fetchin," "freakin," or "shiz," which everyone knows are only a few letters off from the really bad words. I actually have a brother who has mastered the intricate uses of all the nearly cuss words. He can use beeotch, ace-hole, fetchin, freakin, shiz, shiz-nit, and any other combination of "almost said it but I didn't" swear words to get his point across. Of course, once in a while a real word can slip out, but then he can say "I was trying to say shiz, but it came out wrong." 

Anyway,  I get a little annoyed every time I hear hecka, or hella, for that matter. Then I remembered the words I said ad nauseam when I was a child. I used to say "dud" all the time. Examples: "Kory can't hit a baseball very far, he is a dud."  "The Cubs stink, they are duds." 

"John, you are a dude without the e." (I thought that was so clever). Imagine how perplexed we were when we lit a firecracker that wouldn't explode. We didn't know what to call it. We had no idea that "dud" is the proper term. 

I used to say "fag" like it was a term of endearment. "Jake is one smart little fag" or "Man, did you see Dave? Dude, that fag is fast!" I had no idea what the word fag actually meant. Sorry to all the guys I called fags when I was little. Hopefully, the label didn't stick. I'm hecka sorry.

The Elder Brother's Influence

I was the oldest in my family, and for most of the time I was growing up, I had 3 younger brothers who followed me around and copied everything I did. This past week, I had a most interesting experience that manifested to me how much that influence continues to this day. 

A few weeks back, my younger brother "RJ" (I want to protect his identity) came out to Sacramento for an exam he needed to take for his job. He stayed with us for a couple of days, and I decided to copy all of the stuff from his Ipod. Yesterday, I decided to play "25 most played songs" on my Ipod, which included the songs RJ most often played on his. Here is the list of songs as they played, and how he got interested in them. 

1. "A Little Respect"-Erasure. I got into Erasure in the early 90's when I was on a Euro-pop/"they might be gay but their music is good" kick.  RJ definitely never heard of Erasure before he stole one of my CDs.

2.  "Por Ti Volare"-Andrea Bocelli. This didn't come from me. My guess it RJ got it from a woman, most likely his wife.

3. "Crash"-D.M.B.  I can't take credit for this one, as it was on the radio quite a bit when RJ was in that high school graduation phase of his life. 

4. "Freak on a Leash"-Korn. I never liked Korn. I think the name of the band is stupid, and they aren't that great of a band. Just because they had a video with a bullet going through crap doesn't make them a good band. RJ probably likes them because a bunch of his friends like them. 

5.  "The Scientist"-Coldplay. This is one of my favorite Coldplay songs, and its from my favorite Coldplay album "A Rush of Blood to the Head." I distinctly remember telling RJ about this great song I had stuck in my head, and then playing this song for him in my car. Your welcome, bro.

6. "Bridge Over Troubled Water"-Simon & Garfunkel. Simon & Garfunkel were always playing downstairs in my bedroom (next to RJ's) growing up, and he quickly fell in love with their musical genius. This song is actually way played out, but hearing it on my Ipod after so many years brought back some good ol memories. 

7. "If At First You Don't Succeed"-Aalyah. Definitely not from me. However, RJ and me have always been connected to R&B and Hip-Hop, ever since we was educated on the streets of Bloomington, eye-el, and started a freestyle rapping partnership that continues to this day. We cannot ride in a car together without busting out a couple of rhymes. This song here is a  good choice, bro. Some nice funky beats and cool, catchy hooks. 

8. "Wounded Knee"-Primus. I never got into Primus. Blame it on this weird "why should I have to shave my armpits if guys don't" girls I worked with back at Dairy Queen who spent lots of money on flannel shirts and long johns in order to look poor on purpose, and to fit in with the grungy crowds she was hanging with. She always was yapping about Primus and "Sailing the Seas of Cheese" and for that reason alone, I never wanted to listen to them. 

9. "Starry Eyed Surprise"-Paul Oakenfold. You know this song, the one with "Dance all night, dance all night to this D.J." in the chorus. Its alright, but it didn't make it into RJ's collection through my influence. 

10. "Wishin' and Hopin"-Ani DiFranko. Um, someone just flunked the litmus test for heterosexuality. Seriously, thats a song you listen to when and only when your with your wife, just after finishing a chick flick in order to keep things on the up and up. 

11. "Somebody"-Depeche Mode. Ok, seriously, I am getting a little disturbed. Sure, I like a lot of Depeche Mode, as any LDS guy who was alive during the late 80's early 90's and didn't have long hair and watch "Headbanger's Ball" can admit to. However, "Somebody" is one of those songs I just love to hate. Its for girls to like. A few weeks back, a couple of my guy friends sang every line of the song, in tune and with proper dynamics. A little awkward and disturbing. RJ, please tell me your wife listens to your Ipod a lot and thats why this song made the top 25 list. 

12. "Defying Gravity"-Wicked. I own the CD. Yeah, I know its ironic I make fun of "Somebody" but own Broadway Musical CDs. I'm not sure if I influenced this, since I'm sure my other brother RF is going to claim he knew this music way before I did and got RJ turned onto it. 

13. "The Prayer"-Celine Dion. NOT INFLUENCED BY TREVOR. 

14. "Como Dueles En Los Lablos"-Mana. This is a song RJ likes because its a Mexian group, and guess where RJ served his mission? Yep, Mexico. All RMs bring back a CD or two of the pop bands from their country. Kinda stinks if you serve stateside. "I got this cool CD from Wal-Mart on my last P-day. Some band called Snow Patrol. They have a cool sound." 

15. "Forever Live and Die"-O.M.D. This is totally Trevor influenced. I remember listening to this song in my 1975 Volvo 244 D.L. tank on wheels, with my portable CD player that hooked into the cassette player with the wired tape. I thought I was so cool because the CD player had a little remote I velcro'd onto the steering column. See, it was so difficult to reach another 6 inches down to where the actual CD player was to change the buttons. It was much easier to take the remote off the steering column, feel the buttons with my fingers, then hit "forward skip" or "reverse skip." Besides, I know I looked so cool doing that, making sure everyone could see I was holding a CD player remote in my hand as a drove with my value meal in my lap, a few fries dangling from my lips. 

16. "Mrs. Robinson"-Simon & Garfunkel. See above.

17. "Cecilia." Simon & Garfunkel. So RJ apparently still likes S&G. Makes me feel guilty for playing their music over and over again during RJ's young formative years. 

18-25. A bunch of songs by the rock band "Rush." RJ is a drummer, and there is some unwritten rule that, if you're a drummer, you need to like Rush, because Rush has the best rock drummer on the planet, Neil Peart. RJ likes them because they have intricate beats and rythms that only people with a higher musical IQ care about. I never liked RUSH that much, so I didn't influence this songs.

Final Analysis: My bro has a strong Simon & Garfunkel fetish and a few synthesizer pop songs that he definitely picked up from me. The sad part is, we all have a love of Air Supply, Neil Diamond, and Elton John from our parents. It is kind of sad when people laugh at Air Supply songs, cause deep inside, we just love 'em. 

My African Princess

No, I didn't become a member of the FLDS and find wife #2 in sub-Saharan Africa. However, we did find an African clothing stand at a D.C. fleamarket a few weeks back, where Ellen purchased a mumu type dress. It is comfortable for her 31 weeks prego body. I'm not sure why she decided to hold the bananas though. Watch out Chiquita-girl, you might be replaced by a Taiwanese banana toting pregnant gal in an African frock from Mali. Whenever Ellen appears in front of me wearing this dress, I can't help but hear the first few bars of the "Lion King" theme song, you know, the sun rising above the Serengeti part.

Undaunted Courage: The Story of a Man and His Battle With a Buffet Server

America is the land of the smorgasbord. Wherever you turn, you can find a buffet. And here, a buffet means your supposed to eat as much as you want. I can actually remember my first experience with a buffet. I believe it was in Grants Pass, Oregon, when I was five years old, moving with my family from Benton City, Washington to Bloomington, Illinois. Not to bore you with details, but I remember the beef ribs like it was yesterday. I'm sure they really weren't anything great, but those saucy meaty morsels of cowflesh really tasted wonderful. I think I pounded at least 4 or 5 of those things, and that was as a five year old. Little did I know back then that my love for the all-you-can-eat buffet would only grow stronger.

Somewhere in the 80's, we were driving through Missouri, and stopped at a place called Duff's. It was a redneck's paradise kind of place. Stale nacho chips with cheap cheese sauce, a "taco" bar with some ground beef and the same cheap sauce; self-serve soda (this was not as common in the 80's) and ice cream. I was in gastro-paradise. I didn't know we were eating crap on a plate; I downed that chow like it was my last meal before a Ghandiesque fast for peace. Thus, that meal and the making of "suicide" sodas, and downing plenty of ice cream to polish it all off, are still burned in my memory.

Now in my 30's, I am showing the scars of my love for the steam tables. Actually, they are not scars, but some stretch marks undoubtedly aided by the multiple-course feedings I am so fond of. I think my size is sometimes threatening to a restaurant. This brings me to the point of today's post: The rude waitress at the Chinese/Japanese (that means a bunch of Chinese wearing Kimonos pretending to be Japanese) Buffet we visited this past week.

The waitress, I'll call her "Kiki" for the purposes of this post, first sat us at a table in the middle of the room, then went to some other waitresses standing in the corner. I noticed Kiki whisper to them, then all of them look at me and giggle. Then they started chattering back in forth, possibly placing bets on how many plates I would consume. Kiki looked like she would try and beat the over/under by ending my dining prematurely. Little did she or the rest of them know that my competitive nature, pride, and experience were going to foil any attempts at curbing my zeal for zucchini, passion for potstickers, and desire for oriental delicacies.

Kiki's first move: The Staredown
Kiki looked at me with her squinty eyes and thought that her sneery stare would stop my sojourns to the sushi pile, but it would take more than mere looks to thwart my mission:making sure I ate at least $14.95 (the value of admissions) worth of food.

Kiki's next maneuver: Utensil Removal
Kiki started making not-so-subtle hints that I should quit my consumption. First she took plates, and at one point, actually put my fork on the plate before removing it. Another time, she went for my chopsticks. I thought about going to my trusty index and forefinger, always there, always ready to grab, but instead located the chopstick jar and grabbed another pair. Try harder, Kiki!

Kiki's final attempt: Fortune-cookies
Maybe you've experienced this at a buffet before, where you've done maybe two, at the most three trips, and all of a sudden your check, some mints or candies, and some fortune cookies are on your table. The receipt has "thank you" scrawled upon it, suggesting you've had all you can eat. Kiki wrongly assumed that my 10 minutes of inactivity meant that I was finished. Silly server, tricks are for kids, and no fortune cookie & receipt combination is going to knock this boxer out of his fight. Besides, the NBA finals were on the big screen above us, and if they wanted us to leave, they shouldn't have the game on.

I lost count of how many trips I made, but I was satisfied at the end. Kiki should have known better; If a large man with an Asian wife comes into your restaurant, and he knows how to hold the chopsticks, he is going to get his money's worth.

Saturday in the Park

Quick advice: When your wife is pregnant, tired, and hungry, its important that all communication is clear and understood.

Setting: Washington, D.C.
Characters: The Newcomers. 28 weeks pregnant Taiwanese woman and 32 year old "looks pregnant" male.

Scenario: Pregnant wife, tired and hungry, tells husband she really wants to see the National Mall area. Couple then walk a while to get to the mall. Once arriving at the famed green lawn that stretches from the Capitol to the Lincoln Memorial, wife asks "where is the mall?" Husband says "Baby, your looking at it, isn't this awesome?" to which wife disappointingly says "but I thought it was a mall, with air conditioning, bathrooms, and a food court." Wife is not amused.

Somethings Fishy

Ellen and I have spent the past few days in Washington, D.C., and it has been great meeting up with old friends from BYU and seeing some of the sights out here. Despite being in the American Capitol City, we have managed to eat in Chinatown twice, at Chinese restaurants. Thus, wherever the chance presents itself, Ellen will forgo whatever famous or noteworthy restaurants happen to be in town in order to procure her fave: fried noodles/fried rice and roasted duck. That is what we chowed down the first trip to Chinatown, for lunch. Later the same night, we made our way back to Chinatown and found a dumpy place crowded with Chinese. As we sat down, Ellen spied a fish tank, and instantly felt the urge to eat one. She starts excitedly pointing to the tank and saying stuff in Mandarin, and the next thing I know some poor cook comes out, and for 5 minutes struggles to get one of these flopping, splashing and thrashing fish into his net. Finally, the fish is netted and quickly placed into a bucket, and hauled behind the kitchen door. A few moments later, I hear some loud pounding noises and Ellen explains "he is killing the fish for us!" all the while smiling with anticipation of the finned finale to our day. A few minutes later, the steamed fish is on our table, and Ellen tears into it like a fat kid tears into a Snickers bar, or like I tear into a snickers bar...The strangest part was, while we were eating our scaled steak of the seas, all the fish in the tank were bunched in the corner, staring at us. We both had this sense of shame. I'm telling you, it is just this strange emotion eating a fish while 6 or 7 other fish, that moments ago were frolicking in the frothy tank with their brother, are now watching him being picked apart with chopsticks. I'm just thinking about the fact that Ellen loved the D.C. Chinatown, which PALES in comparison to the Chinatown in NYC. Does this mean we will eat 90% of our meals with chopsticks in NYC too? This isn't fair-I mean, when we go to Taiwan, there isn't some "Ameritown" I can go to and get good burgers, steaks, french fries, pizza, nachos, and other American fare. Yet, anytime we hit a big city here in America, we pretend we are in China. Nice.

My first re-written post.

(This has been changed from the original. I wish to explain before you read, that I do not in fact believe that ALL members of various groups and races mentioned below are a certain way. I do wish to state, however, that stereotypes exist for a reason. I hope people find my posts below humorous rather than offensive. We will never get along if we can't laugh at each other, right? )

I am studying for finals right now, which is why there have been no posts lately. I suggest pondering these questions to amuse yourself in the time being:

1. Why do church-based fundraisers (YW especially) often involve me paying $10.00 or $15.00 for something totally crappy that looks like it was produced by the cub scouts w/o supervision? (Thanks for the inspiration Dan & Janay)

2. Why doesn't my body warn me that my aim might be off before I take a whiz in the morning? Seriously, some kind of signal would be nice before the damage is done once in a while. (This might be TMI, but its 2 AM and this is my break from studying, so cut me some stinkin slack)

3. Why did I wait until I had a big flabby gut before I decided to take up golfing? Try swinging a club with your arms almost perpendicular to your chest. It ain't easy.

4. Why in the world do Ellen and I never eat at a buffet except on days we visit the dentist? The past few weeks, we went twice, and both times I was sitting there trying to shove lo-mein into my half-numb mouth. Noodles spilling out, and kids are staring at me wondering why its backwards. "Mommy, how come noodles are coming out of that man's mouth? They are supposed to go inside, not come out!"(hmmm, does post #4 somehow relate to the problems experienced in post #3? seriously, am I so hungry that I'm willing to go to a buffet with no feeling of my tongue or the entire left side of my mouth?)

5. Why do I still use a freakin PC? I am so ready to convert to MAC its not even funny. I've had to reinstall 3 pieces of software, run malicious software removal tools, spybot, re-boot, etc. Those commercials with the suit-wearing guy with issues and the easy going cool guy are really starting to make sense. Any MAC converts feel free to post about how your Mac is so much better than my PC, so I can convince Ellen to let me get a Mac.

6. How have men managed to rule the world? Observe: In Ellen's primary class, the 10 year old girls read really well, know where to find scriptures, and seem to be really observant of the happenings around them. The boys, on the other hand, fight over who is the better belcher, don't know which end of the quad the BoM is in, and are totally oblivious to the fact that the girls are running circles around them intellectually and spiritually. 

Fast forward to missionary life: Elders (some Elders) talk about the top ten greatest rock bands of all time, top ten best movies, top ten best Super Bowl winners, the best slice of pizza they ever had, whose gf , past or present, is the hottest, and even which women in the area are "temptations" for them. Sisters (most) talk about how they are going to meet all of their investigators with only 6.5 days a week to do it, how best to serve the less active, where to buy the cheapest ingredients to make cookies for people, and how to be humble at district meeting every week while the cocky Elder exercises authority over them.  

Now jump to married life. Who is the one who is organized, keeps things running, makes sure everyone needs are met? Who knows how to make things look nice, and never has problems with pants being stuck in their socks? It boggles my mind that men still rule the world. 

7. The original posting here was removed do to its offensive content, but a summary is here: 

A.  Mexican handyman  begs Trevor for some work while at church; housing construction is down and its hard for him to make ends meet.

B. Trevor, feeling a little sorry about the situation,  calls the man the next day and offers him the job of painting a section of fence and nailing down some pipes in the attic, since Trevor can't fit up in the attic too easily. Handyman promises to do the work on Wednesday morning, 8:00 A.M. sharp.  Handyman then calls back and says he must speak to Trevor immediately. He comes over and asks for full payment up front, because he needs gas money and things are really tight. Trevor then drives over to the bank, withdraws cash, and pays Handyman right there in the parking lot.  Handyman promises to get the work done first thing tomorrow (Wednesday). When Trevor tells his wife what happened she says "My friend told me you can't trust the Mexican worker to do the work if you pay them first; they always make excuses and take a long time to do it." Trevor then tells Ellen how horrible it is to think that way about people, and just because they are from Mexico doesn't mean they are lazy. 

C. Trevor wakes up Wednesday morning, and waits, but Handyman never shows up. Trevor calls and leaves a message, but the call is never returned. 

D. On Thursday mid-day, Handyman calls and says "something came up, so I couldn't get over to your place. I will be there this afternoon." Trevor again waits for Handyman to arrive. He never does. 

E. On Friday morning, Handyman calls Trevor and tells him how he can't do the work until Monday. Trevor gets angry. Trevor tells Handyman that he can't trust him to do any work in the future, won't ever refer him to friends, and has to really try hard to convince his wife that certain stereotypes about Handyman aren't true. Trevor also explains that they had contract, and Handyman was in breach of the contract (legal jargon always works) and if he didn't perform by Monday, Trevor could take things to court. This apparently scared Handyman into working. 

F. Handyman finally shows up Monday morning, paints the fence, but gives up working on the pipes after 10 minutes because he can't reach the problem due to a AC duct being in the way. Trevor points out that by walking another 10 feet in the attic, Handyman can get around the duct and reach the problem area. Handyman reluctantly gets back in the attic and finishes the work that he was already paid for.  

G. Trevor feels stupid for paying up front, even though he did it because Handyman personally came over and asked him for help. Trevor decides to post about it, but does it in a sarcastic, offensive manner. Trevor thought it was hilarious, but some people didn't find it too funny. 

H. Trevor will now offend everyone so all can feel equally dissed. 

1. Americans are arrogant, cocky, gluttonous pigs who think they own the world.

2. Canadians are inexplicably proud of their maple leaf cloth they call a flag. What is that all "aboot?"

3. Mormons are self-righteous, judgmental and don't know when to stop having kids. 

4. Catholic priests sometimes get "agape" and "eros" mixed up when they are with little boys.

5. Mexicans are (see above)

6. There is a reason Jews have their nationality verbalized. "I got jewed"

7. Russians drink way too much  Vodka. That is why most kids grow up thinking that slurred and fumbled speech is Russian. In fact, it was just a drunk Russian taking incoherently, and not real Russian. 

8. The English have some jacked-up teeth. So do the Japanese. I sometimes get puzzled as to how some people get pieces of candy or gum beyond that treachorous maze in their mouth. You can build robots that dance like humans but have teeth from 1750? What is up with that? 

9. Don't sit next to an Indian man(the Qwik-E-Mart kind, not the firewater & feathers kind) on an international flight. No deodorant is a given, as is the week- old curry smell that lasts the entire flight. When the attendant asks you what you want for a meal, you feel like telling her "I already know what the curry tastes like, so I'll try the pasta."

Finally, Carlos Boozer can't stop a sloth.  As a Jazz fan, I was hopeful that Booz would play up to  All-star level in the playoffs, but the dude is magic on defense, cause he always vanishes right before his man goes to the hoop. 

That's all for now.