I'm A Fan Of Pickles

Special thanks to Rachel to alerted me to This Story. Apparently there is a Facebook fan page that set out to see if a pickle could get more fans than the band Nickelback. Yep. Just an average household pickle. I'm happy to report that the goal has been accomplished. And I am now one member of the 1,517,008 (!!!) people who like pickles more than Nickelback.

Apparently the idea stemmed from a Facebook page which was successful in getting more fans of onion rings than singer Justin Bieber.

Now. That. Is. Funny.

Incidentally, I'd probably rather have ringworm than listen to Nickelback.

Living Without Hands

I came across a few pictures from a trip we made to Hawaii a few years ago. One of the most amazing things I saw in Hawaii was at the airport as we were preparing to fly home.

I stopped in one of the airport stores to buy some candy to get me through the long flight. When I got to the checkout counter, I noticed that the cashier was shorter than my child. And then I handed her my candy bars. Immediately I saw that she had no hands. And yet it wasn’t a setback for her at all!

She scanned the candy, took my credit card, swiped it, punched in a few numbers, then handed me my card and the candy. I was mesmerized. She was able to do her job just as quickly and efficiently as someone with two hands could do.

But the thing that stood out to me most was her smile. She was so happy! What seemed to me like a limitation was no limitation for her. She wasn't whining about her challenges or her hard lot in life. She was beaming with joy.

I left the store and walked ten minutes to our terminal. But I couldn’t get this person out of my mind. Our flight was leaving soon, but I didn’t want to forget this amazing lady. I decided to run back to the store. I told her that I was inspired by what she was doing and asked if I could take her picture. Without hesitation she said yes. It’s easy to see the happiness pouring out of her.

I hope I can be more like this lady. I want to turn my weaknesses into strengths. I want to work hard for the things I believe in. I don’t want ANYTHING to hold me back. I want to complain less and smile more. I want to BE happiness.

What Does Love Look Like?

I have something to show you. Grab the box of Kleenex. Seriously.

This video is of Team Hoyt - a father and son team who have completed 67 (67!!) marathons and 6 (6!!) Ironman Triathlons.

The amazing part is that the son has cerebral palsy and has been pushed/pulled by his dad (who is almost 70 years old!) for every single race.

This gave me a greater respect for the ideas of love, parenthood, dedication, and triumph. I hope it will do the same for you. Enjoy!

I Love My Bed

I am in love with my bed. I am thankful for it. I appreciate it so much. Because I vividly remember the days when I didn’t have one.

Many moons ago I got accepted into graduate school at the University of Wyoming. Mel and I packed our meager belongings and U-Hauled ourselves up to the land of snow and wind. One item that was noticibly absent in the U-Haul was a bed.

We lived on the top floor of a run-down apartment building that looked like it was built during the Civil War. We developed some serious calf muscles by walking up or down three flights of stairs whenever we went anywhere. The place was so run-down that even rats considered it inhospitable.



But it was cheap. And graduate school was expensive. We tried to save a penny however we could. Buying a bed certainly wasn’t in our poor-college-student budget.

But an air mattress was.

So we slept on this air mattress for half a year. Nothing says comfort like coming home from a long day of work and school to lay down on a puffy air mattress (or sit in the disgusting chair we bought at the Salvation Army).

We had this pump that we (I) would use to inflate the mattress every night before bed. Then, after a few hours, the mattress would start to deflate. And we would slowly be rolled to the middle of the "bed". Over the course of the night, air magically escaped the mattress so that we were barely off the ground by morning (if we were lucky).



And the back aches? Holy Sweet Mother. The back aches! By the time we woke up, our backs felt like they had been pounced on by Kareem Abdul Jabbar.

Despite the sleeping challenges, our time in Wyoming was amazing. If I could go back in time, I wouldn’t change a thing. And it will come as no surprise that the first thing we bought when we moved back to Utah was…..a bed.

Dumb Decision Of The Day

I believe I made a mistake yesterday. Generally I try to be rational. If at all possible, I prefer to involve my brain in decision-making. But for some reason my brain didn't kick in during the moment when I decided what to eat for lunch. The mistake:

Pork Chile Verde. From. The. Hospital. Cafeteria.

All together now....join your collective voices....."No Duh!! Did you honestly think that would be a good idea?!?" In retrospect, this decision seems absolutely absurd. You just shouldn't get pork chile verde. From the hospital cafeteria.

In my defense, my co-workers and I often get lunch from the hospital cafeteria. We get a discount so it's cheap. And the food is usually okay. And it's cheap.

But pork chile verde over rice? That's crossing the line. I felt queezy for the rest of the day. And for the life of me - I could not get that taste out of my mouth. It took up residence on my taste buds for hours. I was popping sticks of gum like a fiend. But it was useless.

You know those decisions which you end up regretting for a long time? Yea. This was one of those decisions.

Crayola Song

I came across this video on another blog and thought I'd share. It's kind of a catchy little ditty. But I think the main reason I like it is because I'm just a sucker when it comes to kids. And there are some cute kids here. See what you think.

Red Cliffs Reflection Pictures

My brother-in-law Matt, Jackson, and I went on a little hike in the Red Cliffs Desert Reserve a few days ago. We came upon these pools of water showing AMAZING reflections of the red rock behind them.

It was potentially one of the best photo opportunities I've stumbled upon. And I cursed my existance. Because my good camera is currently in the shop getting a $220 repair!!! Aaarrrgghhhhhhh! I wanted to sob. Fortunately I at least had my little camera.

I like this picture with Jackson's reflection in the water. I will definitely visit here again after a rain storm. And after my camera is done getting a make-over.

Dear McDonalds

Dear Driver On The Freeway: Both lanes are not created equal. The left lane is the FAST lane. The right lane is the SLOW lane. When you are going 20 mph UNDER the speed limit, you should NOT be driving in the left lane.

Dear McDonalds: I’d appreciate if you would stop making Big Macs taste so delicious. My self-control isn’t strong enough to maintain the temptation of your artery-clogging goodness.

Dear Alarm Clock: I hate you. I want to find your heartless inventor and scratch his eyes out with a rusty fork.

Dear Lady Who Works With My Wife Who Made Us Chocolate-Covered Toffee: This is possibly the best food I have ever ingested. I don’t even know who you are. So I hope it’s not inappropriate to say…..I love you. I’d be willing to make a trade for more of your toffee: A photo shoot. Some CDs. One of my children. You just name the price.

Friends In Haiti

Some friends Brian and Tonya recently returned from Haiti. See some of their incredible pictures at www.bubblewhoops.com. I got goose bumps.

Food + Hair = Gag Reflex

I went to a conference on Monday for work. It was held at the Senior Center and the topic was “Essential Tools for Dementia Care” and treating Alzheimer’s disease. The presenters were top-notch physicians. The training was informative, helpful, and useful.

But I digress. So, the conference was held at the Senior Center. And lunch was provided by……the Senior Center. The facility is enormous and beautiful. But not necessarily known as a world-class eating establishment.

I was exerting tremendous effort to enjoy the broccoli cheddar soup when I came across a stringy black hair. Suddenly soup didn’t sound so appetizing. So I started eating the turkey wrap. It actually looked pretty good. Unfortunately, with the first bite, my teeth sunk into a long brown hair woven between the slices of turkey.

I suppose I only have myself to blame. It’s my fault. I didn’t specify that I wanted the soup WITHOUT hair. I failed to clarify that I wanted the turkey wrap MINUS hair.

Note to self: Lunch from the Senior Center includes complementary tooth floss.

Painter's Half Marathon 2010

I just posted a race report from the Painter's St. George Half Marathon at my running blog. CLICK HERE to read the full story.

My Name Is Cory And I'm A Sugar Addict

My body has spiraled into a deep chasm of decay. Everything started to crumble about a month ago during a stop at the Maverik gas station.

I'll just be honest with you. I like to eat me some fat, pink frosted sugar cookies. Unfortunately, Maverik happened to be out of fat, pink frosted sugar cookies during my visit. So I settled for the sub-par oatmeal raisin cookie. Without warning, I died and went to heaven.

Ever since then, I have had a mad craving for oatmeal raisin cookies. But this also triggered an all-out, diabetes-inducing need for all things sugar.

It's as if every ounce of self-control has been decayed. I'm popping cookies like I just ended a hunger strike. I down raspberry-filled donuts without remorse. I'm ingesting Nutter Butters frequently enough that my tongue is beginning to resemble a peanut. I realize that my bones are slowly crystallizing into a sweet confectionery treat. And I don't care. I'm trying to feel guilty. Really. I'm trying.

And to speed my trajectory down this slippery slope of sugar, I made oatmeal cookies this weekend. This is akin to a meth addict deciding it's a good idea to start his own meth lab in the bathtub. And I was grateful that nobody in my house likes oatmeal raisin cookies. I didn't want to share anyway.

I'm a little worried because I'm training for a marathon coming up in less than four months. And yet during the grueling marathon training, the only fuel I'm giving my body comes from Hostess. Or Maverik.

Sweet Tunes From Needtobreathe

Here's a cool song from the group Needtobreathe. Their most recent album The Outsiders has been on the Bestsellers List in Christian music for a while. I hesitate to describe their music as "adult alternative" because it makes me feel old.

Their songs are an interesting mix of rock, alternative, country (don't worry, not much), and happiness. I'm a fan. Check it out:

Why I Can't Join Dukes Of Hazzard

When I was a young lad, there was nothing.....NOTHING cooler than Dukes of Hazzard. (With the possible exception of MacGyver).

One day my little brother and I were feeling rather Hazardous and climbed into the family car parked in our garage. With yours truly at the helm of "General Lee", I started fiddling with the gears and emergency brake.

(Minor detail: the driveway sloped downward...straight to a busy street. Hence...the need for the parking brake.)

Before I could say "Daisy", our ugly blue Geo Metro was rolling down the driveway. To my complete horror, and in classic Dukes of Hazzard fashion, my brother hopped right out of the passenger window (I'm not kidding!!!), leaving me rolling down the hill and across the busy street.

I abandoned my dream of being a Duke after realizing that I had never seen one of the Dukes cry their eyes out when their car crossed a street.

I have to give my brother serious props for having the instinct of a cougar to hop out the window without pause. Meanwhile, my instinct was about as fast as a filing cabinet.

A Little Bit Angry

I was a little frustrated with my wife last night. And I'll tell you why. She barricaded my side of the bed.

Granted, it was with my junk, but still.

Apparently she thinks I have this little problem of leaving stuff out on the kitchen counter that shouldn't be left there. Personally, I see nothing wrong with a shoe box, CDs, my camera, an mp3 player, books, or socks (got busted on that one today) sitting on the counter. But she does.

And apparently she decided that gentle reminders to put my stuff away weren't doing the trick. So she cleaned up my stuff for me. And piled it right on the side of my bed. Now....every time I go to GET in my bed, I have to climb over my mountain of crap to get there. It's just not right.

So last night, just to be funny, I moved everything from the side of my bed BACK to the counter. I had a hard time containing my giggling, because I'm sure Mel was thinking that I was finally cleaning up my stuff. Little did she know.

So this morning she sees all my junk piled back on the counter. She said in her grumpy voice "That's not funny." It didn't seem like the appropriate time to explain to her that it actually was funny.

Then she said sternly "You don't want to play this game with me." And foolishly, I asked why.

At the moment, she had the largest butcher knife we own in her hand cutting a grapefruit.

She pointed the knife at me and said "Because I will always win."