Firm As The Mountains Around Us
by Kevin Jolley on Oct.30, 2011, under Family, Personal History, Rant
Before I had a web log, I used to make fun of those who did – because most of their posts were several weeks apart, and would begin with such sincere apologies to all the readers who have had to wait for something new. So forgive me if you were expecting an apology, but you’re not going to get one. I hope you understand.
The main problem with leaving a gap in blog posts is that I feel responsible for covering all the time I missed. It’s not a realistic expectation, but there are life events, now several months old, to which I feel a sense of responsibility. If I miss one, they soon start to pile up and feel like that stack of lab assignments at the end of the college semester from all those Monday nights that I couldn’t stand the thought of being in that lab from 6-10 PM and promised to myself that I would make them up at a less stupid time. I mean, how can you call it a three credit course and yet require seven hours of weekly attendance? Oh, I wish I hadn’t brought it up because it still makes me so angry that I might start behaving recklessly – like running through late yellow lights (Utah style) or something like that.
I guess that brings me to one of the more obvious life events deserving of mention. I mean, yes, I could spend four to ten pages on it, about how life was comfortable, and predictable back in Albion, WA, and what a shocking decision it was to suddenly pick up and move to East Layton, UT, but I’m just going to mention it briefly. I could say more, but remembering all those lab schedules back in college has put me in a bad mood. Seriously – I’ve demonstrated time and again that I understand the concepts – why in the heck to I have to sit there trapped for four hours partnered with some introvert who gets all different answers and thus assuring that we have no hope of getting done early? My goodness I’m furious right now. I just don’t know what I might do when I’m feeling like this. I almost like it.
Look, here’s what you need to know. I mean, aside from the big, obvious fact that we moved from Washington to Utah, from Pullman to Layton. There are two states in the United States to which a person moving can expect fear, resistance, and consternation from friends and family. Those two states are, in no particular order, California and Utah. If you move to California, it’s a known fact that you will become at least two of the following things: gang member, hippie, film extra, gay, drug user, organic farmer, film producer, beach jogger, dolphin trainer, architect, and/or aggressive driver. Utah has only four risks, but they are big ones. You risk becoming a Mormon (if not already), a Utah Mormon (if you were a regular Mormon before), an inattentive and inconsiderate speeding driver of some high-capacity top-heavy vehicle, or just simply trapped alone in the wilderness of snow and rocks.
You really don’t need to worry about me. I’m above the influence here. I drive just fast enough to avoid getting pasted by the soccer moms talking on cellphones coming up in two-ton vehicles behind me at 85 in a 65. If one of them killed me, she wouldn’t notice it, nor would she remember it if questioned later. I have to drive a bit over the speed limit to avoid becoming an unsolved missing person case.
As for Utah Mormons, I’ve kept my guard up. My first Sunday at church here, people actually tried to greet me or shake my hand. ”Nice try!” I would say. ”I don’t know what your game is yet, but mark my words: I will find out.” I think I’ve got Utah Mormons at least partially figured out. They seem to want to be friends, which is annoying, and they assume way too much. For example, they assume that other people don’t mind receiving help in accomplishing their dreams. To them I say back off! I work alone. And no, I don’t want to be lab partners. I’ll get caught up over Spring Break, or maybe the week before finals. I have more important things to do for four hours on a Monday night.
I know, I know, I need to talk about my job at Questar, funny moments during weekly grocery shopping dates with Doré, sweet moments watching Bedlam on BBC with Novalie, and my world ranking in FIFA soccer online video game competition. I may get to that in upcoming posts, but right now I’m thinking of college labs again and wondering how professors can think it’s normal, not only to require an additional four hours’ attendance during what would normally be homework time, but also require that you complete a lab “prelim” ahead of time, easily requiring another two hours just to be ready to go and do the lab work.
If I ever let go of this anger which suddenly surfaced tonight after five years, I’ll write again.
The Bears of Change are Running Wild and Free
by Kevin Jolley on Apr.10, 2011, under Family, Love
After Church a few Sundays ago, I got home a few minutes earlier than Doré and Novalie. When they walked in the front door I was standing in front of the TV, remote in hand, watching PBA Championship Bowling on ESPN (The whole family likes to watch it. Yes, pro bowling becomes addicting very easily; be smart, don’t start.)
Doré and Novalie disappeared to their respective bedrooms to put on their play clothes, and I loosened my tie and sat down on the couch. Within a few minutes,
Doré was sprinting out of the bedroom directly toward me. She then did something that made me very happy: she leaned on me to pin me to the couch and then started punching wildly at my shoulders and ribs. I was delighted.
I wasn’t sure what reaction she might have to the gigantic, 53-inch tall teddy bear that I positioned in the bathroom to greet her, but this was better than I hoped.
The previous day we had traveled with Celia Vernier (Doré’s mother, “Old Grandma” to Novalie) in the Cadillac Escalade down Lewiston/Clarkston way to our most local Costco. Novalie and I have a Costco tradition – as soon as we finish our lunch, we go into the tire section to sniff the rubber and hide among the tire stacks. Doré and her mom went into the main store ahead of us. This separation would prove critical.
As Novalie and I entered, we came upon some large cardboard bins, usually containing Costco’s current “great deal.” Today’s deal? Giant teddy bears. Novalie knew that one of them would be hers. She had the legal documentation to prove it.
“Remember, Daddy, when you said you would buy me a teddy bear that was bigger than me?”
“Uh, well, Novalie . . . ” I was caught off guard. I had once spoken those words, but several years ago and in a particular context. I knew that I didn’t have a case. Luck was on our side, though, because the bears were priced at only $29.99.
I quickly scanned the wide expanse of the Costco labyrinth. Doré and Celia were not in sight.
“Okay, Novalie, pick one, then we’ve got to hurry.” I knew a bear this big would never get spousal approval, but I also knew that I needed to pay this “teddy bear bigger than you” debt before Novalie got any bigger. As it was, this bear was too large for Novalie to carry on her own. She picked dark brown, and we began our secret mission.
Normally it’s easy to lose sight of family members for hours at a time in Costco, but during our slow and careful traversal of the space between the teddy bears and the check stands, I felt exposed to the searching gazes of curious shoppers as we slowly – “Stop!” I said to Novalie in a firm whisper. Doré and Celia had come down an aisle and there was nowhere for us to hide. We held still, barely breathing as we watched them turn a corner and disappear up the next aisle, never looking up. “That was close.”
We made it to the check stand where the line seemed impossibly long and the curious employees and shoppers couldn’t help but stare at us or make comments. I placed the bear in front of me and told Novalie to stay concealed in front of the bear. As we moved into – “They’re back!” Doré and Celia rounded a corner and emerged from another aisle.
I bent my knees a little, hoping to disappear in the jumble of shoppers crowding the checkout counters at the front of the store; Novalie kept hidden in front of that giant bear. How is this possible? It usually takes 45 minutes with text-messaging and phone GPS to find Doré and Novalie once we’ve separated in this store! Now that I want to hide, they’re popping up everywhere!
Another narrow escape. We were now at the front of the line. “Look at that teddy bear,” said the lady in charge of boxes, “do you have your daddy wrapped around your finger?”
“N-no,” said a hesitant Novalie, not sure what any of that meant.
“Is your daddy spoiling you?” Asked the man at the cash register.
“No!” Novalie answered with confidence at that question. She knows that “spoiled” is something you never admit to.
I just wanted them to speed it up. After what felt like a long police interrogation, the bear was paid for. I took the receipt, scanned the area for Mommy and Old Grandma, and satisfied that the coast was clear, I said “Novalie, let’s go. Fast!” I passed her the receipt to show the receipt-checking lady at the exit, and suddenly we were out in the sunshine and I could breathe easy. We made our way to the big SUV at a more relaxed pace. The bear, by now named Brownie by her proud new owner, was placed in the back seat, sitting upright, with seat belt secure.
As we returned to the store where we hoped to rejoin our shoppers without too many questions, I was very proud of Novalie. I was unsure about her ability to be sneaky or to keep silent about a big surprise, but she did brilliantly. It was a big daddy-daughter bonding moment for us.
Meanwhile, back in the car, Brownie waited patiently to deliver the first of many startling surprises.
The Sky When I Was Young
by Kevin Jolley on Aug.20, 2010, under Family, Music, My Favorites, Personal History
Today on this Friday morning, between 7 and 8 o’ clock, Novalie came to join me watching “Totally 80′s” on VH1 Classic. Novalie is not easily amused by non-animated television programming, but the wild and energetic imagery of the music videos of the 1980′s coupled with the rapid, ADHD-inducing scene changes were enough to keep her interest. For a few minutes.
“People wore different clothes back then, Novalie.” I explained. ”People had longer hair. This is music from back when Mommy and Daddy were little kids, just like you.”
“This is from olden times?” She wanted to know.
“Yes, I guess it is,” I answered, surprised momentarily by the sense of time passage.
“Did they have colors on the houses and in the sky?” She asked.
“Yes, Novalie. When I was a kid, the houses all had colors, and the sky was bright blue.”
Then suddenly I understood the root of her question.
“Mommy and Daddy’s olden times are not as old as Grandma and Grandpa’s olden times. They had colors then, too. Just not in their movies.”
“I know that, Dad.”
Communication In Marriage
by Kevin Jolley on Jul.04, 2010, under Celebrities, Family, Love, My Favorites, Now I've Got Silly, Sports
We had just sat down after singing a rousing round of the national anthem in church. Doré, leaned past Novalie to tell me something.
“I like baths and burning witches.”
To be fair, I have a problem which makes it difficult to understand speech which is whispered or mumbled, and Doré is a soft-spoken person. I began to doubt what I heard. I figured I had better ask for a repeat, or spend the rest of my life wondering if she’s thinking about hunting witches every time she’s sitting in the hot tub at the Best Western.
“What?”
“I like Japs and starry ridges,” she clarified.
I was still hoping I might have it wrong. I had to wait for the closing prayer to get clarification. I leaned in even closer.
“I felt like saying ‘gentlemen, start your engines,’” she repeated.
So she’s not a witch hunter who enjoys a warm bath and starry nights and happens to have a strange affection for the people of Japan. It was a NASCAR reference all along. First comes prayer, then comes The Star Spangled Banner, and then comes the traditional shout of “Gentlemen! Start your engines!” by some celebrity or other honorary figure.
Matthew McConaughey gave the best start your engines! shout in NASCAR history for the Daytona 500 in 2005, followed closely by Magic Johnson at the Los Angeles race. At the 2004 Daytona 500, President Bush was disappointingly average. It might seem insensitive for me to say this, but old ladies in wheelchairs do a terrible job.
Hey, don’t look at me like that. You know where to go if you need a softer, politically correct take on things. I tell it like it is. I don’t follow anyone’s rules. Not even my own.
Vanishing Point
by Kevin Jolley on Jun.16, 2010, under Attention Defecit Disorder, Family, My Favorites, Personal History, Personal Philosophy
It was nearly dark as I left work today. Heading home, I turned the truck west on the Albion highway and drove into the sunset. As the rippling fire of red, orange, and purple stretched across the clouds, I was immediately relieved as I reminded myself that such things are no longer my responsibility.
When I was a poet, an artist, and even musician, it would have been up to me to capture that sudden moment of beauty when the setting sun lit the clouds over the dark and frozen hills. Not anymore. I don’t have to think about how to describe the clouds, the colors, or even how I would explain the patches of bright yellow sunlight breaking through in spots where there were no clouds. Someone else can do it.
One night during the summer of 2000, I was leaving the Staples store in Logan, Utah where I worked. The manager unlocked the front door to let the employees out, then stepped out and locked the door behind him. We usually waited for him, so we could all walk to our cars together. As I stood on the sidewalk in front of the store, I looked up across the dark valley at the top of the mountains on the east. There, a full moon was just beginning to rise above the peaks. As I looked closely, I could see the distant silhouette of the pine trees against the rising moon. “Wow,” the manager said when I pointed it out to him. “It’s true. You really can see them. I’ve never noticed before.”
That’s when I got the idea that I am very different from the people who “never noticed before.” For some reason, the people who couldn’t be bothered to notice a full moon rising over a mountain peak were the same people who seemed to be accomplishing things and progressing in their lives. My life, it seemed, had become a vicious circle of failure. I couldn’t seem to advance in either school or work. I had to place the blame somewhere.
I soon decided that I wouldn’t look up anymore. Every stretch of moonlight across snow, every sunrise across the river, and every light breeze on a green summer day became a problem for someone else. My new strategy was to experience each moment as deeply as possible, but not capture it in any way.
In the summer of 2004, when Novalie was only a year old, we were having one of our daddy-daughter days at the Willow Park Zoo in Logan. Having visited the bobcats, we made our way back to the grassy area of the small zoo, and I held Novalie up against me so that her head was above mine. I looked up at her as the wind moved the sunlight through her wispy baby hair. She looked down at me and spoke softly in her baby voice as she held my head tightly. I suddenly became aware that I was living an important moment that I would remember for the rest of my life. A moment I would want back almost as soon as it was over. Immediately I knew that there was nothing I could do to capture or save that moment in time. I had to let it happen. I had to let it pass. I couldn’t hold it.
I was thankful not to have the responsibility of capturing that moment, because I didn’t know how.
Like a snowflake melting in my hand, I could only give it all my attention until it was gone.
Thanksgiving 2009!
by Kevin Jolley on Nov.26, 2009, under Family, My Favorites, Now I've Got Silly, Personal History, Pets, Random notes
Hi everybody! We just finished our Thanksgiving dinner (a bit late, I know, but we Albion Jolleys have always done things our own way). We had roast and sweet potatoes and shrimp cocktail and rolled-up rolls (that you can unroll, put butter inside, and then re-roll) and mashed potatoes and gravy and deviled eggs and I made an open-face roast sandwich with gravy and potatoes and roast on wheat bread toast.
We all went around and said what we were thankful for, which is much less stressful and embarrassing when it’s just the three of us! Novalie is thankful for mommy and daddy and cousins and grandmas and grandpas and the ocean and paper and tape. Doré is thankful for games, all kinds of games, (but I bet she’s especially thankful for Mahjong that comes with Windows 7 because she plays a lot and last night we stayed up late playing Mahjong and she won four games in a row and I won one and lost one and I’m so glad Windows 7 runs good on our seven-year-old computer because we would use it no matter what because of Mahjong) and then she said she’s thankful for Novalie and Kevin. I’m so stoked because I’m one of the two people she named. She is also thankful that she is done cooking.
Then I said I was thankful for . . . and then Novalie started whispering and so I just repeated what she said . . . Apple Strawberry and Simon. But really that’s just Novalie because Apple is fun to play with sometimes with her cute little furry rodent face, but she gets dirty over time and nobody likes to change her cage bedding so I have to and I end up putting it off forever because the longer I wait the worse she smells and the worse she smells the longer I wait and I’ve been putting it off since right before we went to Seattle in August. So anyway I continued with my things I’m thankful for and I said I was thankful that Novalie completed her first level of Super Mario Brothers™ for Nintendo®, and earlier this week she bagged her first few Nazis as an American WWII spy in Germany in Return to Castle Wolfenstein for the PC. I told her not to feel bad that Himmler barely escaped down the mountain gondola because he always barely escapes and that’s how the game keeps you going.
Planet 51's Neera
For our Thanksgiving movie we saw Planet 51 which was totally awesome because it’s on another planet and it’s the human that’s the alien which is totally backwards because humans are not aliens, we are humans. Anyway it was hilarious because there was a little rover robot sent to the planet ahead of time and it thought it was just looking for rocks so it only sent back pictures of rocks so that’s why it was a complete surprise to the American astronaut to arrive and find himself in someone’s 1950′s style backyard. Plus Rover is cute and energetic and looks like an eager puppy when he wags his antenna and he always goes crazy when he sees a rock and he tries to pick up all the rocks he can and we said “Novalie, he loves rocks, just like you.” And I totally had a crush on one of the aliens named Neera but that’s not weird because she’s a cartoon alien and besides Doré had a crush on Wall•E and he’s a cartoon robot and that’s way weirder and so there’s no reason to judge me.
Now it’s almost time to go because it’s getting late and Novalie and Doré are playing chess and Novalie is tired and she thinks if you capture one of her pieces that her other pieces can send a rescue party and go get it back if you forget to say “click” because that means you didn’t lock the door.
So I just want to say to everybody “Happy Thanksgiving in 2009!” and also ask if anyone knows what you’re supposed to do if you find a dead squirrel in your front yard like if there’s a number I call or do I have to do something about it myself.
Song Lyrics That Shouldn’t Be Analyzed
by Kevin Jolley on Oct.18, 2009, under Family, Music, Now I've Got Silly, Personal History
Estranged by Guns N’ Roses is an epic, nine minute rock ballad in two parts, separated by a gorgeously flowing piano and bass solo in the middle. Since first hearing it in 1991, I’ve been uplifted by it time and time again. There is however, one particular verse that has always perplexed me.
Well I jumped into the river too many times to make it home
I’m out here on my own and drifting all alone . . .
I’m just trying to picture how I, in my own life, could have used that excuse for any time I didn’t make it home, or was at least late in arriving home. I picture myself as a teenager, walking in late on a Saturday night after a dance.
Dad: Kevin, it’s nearly 1 AM. What kept you out so late?
Me: I’m sorry, Dad. I would have made it by midnight, it’s just that . . . I jumped into the river.
Dad: You what? What were you doing jumping in the river? One jump in the river isn’t . . .
Me: It wasn’t just once. That’s the whole problem.
Dad: So you jumped in a couple of times? Your mother and I were worried sick . . .
Me: No, Dad. I jumped in a bunch of times. Too many times to make it home.
Dad: Okay, well I guess that can happen to anyone. Just try not to do it again.
If you just knew me and my Dad back when I was a teenager, you’d understand just how common these kinds of conversations were.
Q: You mean you actually did jump in the river late at night after a dance?
A: Yes. The famous Columbia.
Q: In the middle of summer, I hope!
A: Not quite. Early March.
Q: That must have been freezing! What were you wearing?
A: This interview is over.
Q: At least tell me if there were any good lyrics in Estranged.
A: Most of it is quite good.
When I find out all the reasons maybe I’ll find another way
find another day
with all the changing seasons of my life
maybe I’ll get it right
next time
. . .
I see the storm is getting closer
and the waves they get so high
Seems everything we’ve ever known’s here
why must it drift away and die?
New Rider of the Bright Sky
by Kevin Jolley on Aug.26, 2009, under Family, My Favorites, Personal History, Sports
It wasn’t easy for Novalie to wait to ride her new bike. She received it as a gift from “Old Grandma” (Celia Vernier) on Saturday night, and had to wait all the way until Sunday afternoon to take it out for the first real drive.
Albion doesn’t have terrain suitable to biking (dirt roads and hills), and I didn’t want Novalie to be restricted to the small cement basketball court down at the park. We loaded up the new bike, all the safety gear, and Bolt, her stuffed-animal mascot. We drove out near where I work. I went up the hill a little to a large, empty, and mostly flat parking lot. After Novalie geared-up and Bolt took his spot in the front basket, she took her seat behind the handlebars. She was nervous. I don’t know if it was the larger bike, or that she worried about going too fast in all this open space, but she was very uncertain.
“Don’t let go of me, Dad!” she said. “It’s okay, Novalie, you know how to do this. Just ride.” Like parents do, I let go without Novalie ever realizing it, and she was free.
I watched as she rode away against the blinding light of the blue and white sky. She rode in wide circles, talking and singing to herself, lost in another world of bicycle and imagination, the way a little child should be. She has many important bike rides ahead of her.
Special Moments in Fatherhood
by Kevin Jolley on Jun.13, 2009, under Family, Now I've Got Silly, Personal History
It was one of those surprising and special moments, and it came on the night of Novalie’s kindergarten graduation. And it wasn’t the presentation of Novalie’s graduation certificate. Although it means that she has exactly the same number of graduation certificates that I do, it wasn’t that.
It wasn’t the catching of her first fish, either, which is recounted in Doré’s blog. That’s more a moment of pride for Grandpas Jolley and Vernier in any case. My dad tried, but I never quite became a fishing enthusiast. So it wasn’t that either.
This special moment came during the drive home. We were all fairly hungry, having eaten very little of the strange assortment of foods at the kindergarten potluck dinner, so we stopped at McDonald’s so that Doré and I could get crispy chicken Snack Wraps®.
“Are you hungry, Novalie? Do you want something?”
It was then that Novalie ordered, and ate, her first Big Mac®.
If Commenting on Youtube Ping Pong Videos at 2 AM is Wrong, I Don’t Want to be Right
by Kevin Jolley on Jun.11, 2009, under My Favorites, Now I've Got Silly, Personal History, Sports, Writing
I just received some ITTF professional table tennis DVDs from a Canadian on eBay who must have found a way to legally distribute these homemade DVDs pieced together from German and Chinese TV broadcasts. Or maybe they’re not legal, but at only $9.99 each, I’m not asking too many questions.
So I’m in a good mood, watching Germany’s Timo Boll do battle with top players from around Asia, including China’s highly rated Ma Long, to reach the final. This got me thinking back to my early days as a fan of professional table tennis.
I’d say that last summer was when I “got back in” to table tennis, but really, I’ve never been in it like I am now. The world of professional table tennis was still new and exciting to me, and I looked for it wherever I could find it. On Youtube, I did find it. One user in particular would post full matches – in the requisite ten-minute segments – on Youtube. This user is now gone, probably banned for posting without permission, but it’s thanks to those videos that I learned the names and personalities of the world’s top players – including my favorite player, Denmark’s Michael Maze.
I spent many nights last summer watching table tennis videos late into the night, then, when it was very late, I would leave comments on the videos. Something strange happens to me when I write late at night to early in the morning. I’m not sure why table tennis and early morning brought out the “gangsta” in me, but it did.
Kevin (10 months ago)
I hate to see Mikey Maze lose, ’cause he’s my dogg, yo. But I have to give props to the Samsonov, the matchwinnah, for the control and consistency he be puttin’ on display for tha fanzz, yo.Maze is tha man, doggies, but Samsonov r0x0rs in this match.
Izraphel (10 months ago)
did u just mix black ghetto talk with 1337 speak?Kevin (10 months ago)
My good man, I can assure you that only proper English is being spoken at this forum. I can’t be expected to know what you are talking about.xiangyik (5 months ago)
You’re very funny–in a good way.
It didn’t stop there, either. In fact, it seemed to get worse the longer it continued.
Kevin (9 months ago)
My dawg Mikey Maze be keepin’ it real an’ bringin’ dat street-pong style to da world stage, yo.Sandcat87 (4 months ago) Rofl! Maze is ma homie too, G.
I can laugh at those now, even if I am a little confused at myself.
I’m afraid I have no explanation whatsoever for the next (and thankfully last) comment that I left for a video in which Vladmir Samsonov of Belarus defeated Korea’s Ryu:
Kevin (9 months ago)
Samsonov be thinkin’ he tha Einstein PhD of table tennis while the rest of us special pingpongers be ridin’ the short bus to the local tournaments.
I am very thankful that it went no further.
Random Pictures
