One Year

31 Posts in 31 Days: #12

It was one year ago today, that we moved into our very first home.

We came into home ownership later than most of our friends. Last summer, we had been married almost fourteen years.

That wasn't the plan.

When I asked Sharon to marry me, I had every intention of providing for her properly -- including getting her into a home of her own, in short order. But, life gets in the way sometimes, doesn't it?

So we rented for fourteen years. But, last year, Sharon had finally had enough, and got the wheels rolling on the mortgage process.

AND WHAT AN IDIOTIC PROCESS THAT IS!!!!

But, I digress.

What's important is we survived, and on June 12, 2008 we moved into our very own home.

It's not big, but it's everything we wanted. It's funny how that happened. One of the reasons we procrastinated buying for so long was, we had fallen in love with the area in which we were renting, but didn't think we could afford to buy there.

But, then the housing market fell apart, and one house -- only one, in the entire town -- came available, that was remotely within our price range. We bid on the first and only home we looked at.

It sure seemed like destiny.

We're so thankful for our little home, and for a year's worth of memories under its roof, and we look forward to many, many more.

Celebrating what you've got

31 Post in 31 Days: #11

I live in a small town.

It's pretty close to a rather big town...but it still feels small, and that's what matters. And in a small town, in the summer, you celebrate what you have. In Utah communities, throughout the summer and early fall, we have Raspberry Days and Peach Days and Onion Days and Strawberry Days, and --who knows-- probably Jell-O Days. In Farmington, we don't have a crop, per se, to celebrate, but we don't want to be left out so, in July, we have Festival Days.

This weekend is Festival Days.

There are various activities throughout the week, but the crowning jewel of course, is the parade.

I've seen my share of the big parades, but I prefer the small town version -- and ours has all the essential ingredients:

Flags carried by local veterans (this alternates every year or so with the Cub Scouts -- either one is acceptable).

Every emergency vehicle within a ten mile radius.

Local politicians, and those seeking to replace them.

Pretty girls, riding in classic, convertible cars.

Marching bands, from the nearby schools -- and in the Davis High Marching Band, we have one of the premier marching bands in the country.

Horses -- and their attendants.

Tractors. Lots of tractors.

People hucking stuff at you -- we scored this year: A couple of bags full of salt water taffy (the official candy of the State of Utah), dozens of Otter Pops, three frisbees, two balls, suckers, Tootsie Rolls, about a dozen combs (that was new this year) and a ream's worth of flyers from all the local businesses.

Dancers (hint: sit near the beginning of the parade route -- they're still excited about being there).

Cute kids, doing backflips on a trampoline - while on a moving trailer.

Floats and clowns and unicycles.

Water. Squirted right at your camera. Over and over again.

And my favorite part: friends and neighbors. We've lived in Farmington for long enough now, that as we walk along the parade route, we see friends from our old neighborhood, as well as the neighborhood we now live in. We catch up, we talk about how big everyone's kids are getting, we talk about how we miss each other, and how glad we are to hear that everything is going well.

On Festival Days, everything is always going fine.

In Farmington, we may not a have a crop to celebrate, but we have one another -- and you know what? We like each other.

You celebrate what you've got.

I gotta run -- I need to get ready for the fireworks show (we have prime seats on our back patio -- another small town benefit)!

Does Suave know me or what?

31 Posts in 31 Days: #10

So, I was in the store the other day, and I saw this product. Suave Men's 3-in-1 Shampoo, Conditioner and Bodywash.

My first thought was, "Well, that's convenient! It's about time someone came up with something like this!"

Second thought: "I already use shampoo as bodywash anyway -- but only if there's no soap handy (like at eye level)."

Third thought: "Wait a minute, I smell a rat!"

So I went looking, and found Suave Kid's 3-in-1 Shampoo, Conditioner and Bodywash. In TWO flavors:

Upon further inspection, I found Suave Women's 3-in-1 Shampoo, Conditioner and Bodywash:

Oh, that's right, I DIDN'T find Suave Women's 3-in-1 Shampoo, Conditioner and Bodywash.

Men have won wars.

Men have discovered new lands.

Men have cured diseases.

Men have walked on the moon.

Evidently men have NOT mastered the art and intricacy of the three-separate-bottle personal cleansing regimen.

In protest, I will NEVER buy this product.

I'll just continue doing what I have always done: lathering up with the shampoo (or the conditioner -- whichever's handiest).

Photostory Friday: From Behind

Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek

31 Posts in 31 Days: #9

You've probably seen a few of these pictures before, but bear with me -- I just thought of a new way to talk about them!

I got serious about photography, nearly twelve years ago, when my first daughter was born. The problem was, I had no idea what I was doing. I hijacked my dad's Canon SLR, and started pointing and shooting. I liked the results, so I kept doing it. I've never had any photography instruction.

That may or may not come as a surprise to you.

For years I kept my pictures to myself, and I never really interacted with any other photographers. I primarily shot my kids (that sounds deliciously irreverent and at the same time terribly wrong, doesn't it?), and over the years I discovered a few techniques for taking better (or at least more interesting) pictures.

When I began to associate with more photographers, I was surprised to see how many of them (most self taught as well) had discovered the same things that I had:

Shoot in natural light, whenever possible.

Never. EVER. Say cheese.

Zoom in close -- fill the frame.

Live in their world -- get down to the level of the child.

But the one that really surprised me was shooting from behind.

The idea of taking a picture of something from behind runs so counter to your initial photographic instincts, that I was sure I'd stumbled on some hidden gem of knowledge -- evidently I have an ego-centric streak.

EVERYONE does it.

I shoot my kids (there's that phrase again) from behind at least as often as I do from the front. I do the same thing when taking pictures of other people -- be it brides or families -- and, inevitably, THAT is the picture that gets the ooohs and aaahhhs. You'll notice, even my profile picture is shot from behind.

It's my favorite way to pose a picture, and I've tried, for years, to figure out what the appeal is, and I've finally decided that

CAUTION!!! HERE COMES THE WORLD ACCORDING TO CHRIS!!

for me any way, these pictures are full of life.

Animation.

Rather than capturing a static moment, they seem to convey movement -- the notion that you've dropped in, in the middle of something.

The idea that the story continues....

So, that's why I do it, why do you?

365: Week 27

31 Posts in 31 Days: #8

You may sense a theme -- at least in the first few shots...

Day 183

July 2: All men are created equal.

I have a full size, framed replica of the Declaration of Independence, and no wall space left to hang it -- darn photography hobby! This is my favorite line from the document -- it is the foundational idea that became the promise of the United States of America.

Day 184

July 3: I have a collection of various American flags, and I break them out each Independence Day. I decided to try a reflecting shot of old Betsy Ross against the glass on the frame of the Declaration of Independence. This shot was much harder to get than I thought it would be.

Day 185

July 4: In descending order:

Old Glory: 50 Stars, 13 Stripes

The Grand Union: The first flag of the United States of America. The Union Jack in the corner wouldn't last much longer.

Betsy Ross: The thirteen stars in a circle were to represent a new constellation.

Day 186

July 5: I have a soft spot for Candy Land. Our family has spent countless hours on the sweet and sticky trail to the Candy Castle. It's the game that can be played by the entire family, almost without exception.

Day 187

July 6: Yes, I laid down in the grass and took a picture of the clover.

Be sure to check back next week when, for your viewing enjoyment, I present: Paint Drying!

Day 188

July 7: Here's out newest favorite back yard past time. Did you know that dragonflies are EXTREMELY attracted to a shuttlecock flying through the air? Me either, until last night.

They came from four counties away, and buzzed the tower repeatedly.

Day 189

July 8: Here's to spontaneity and Bon Jovi.

Driving home from dinner, I snapped a quick shot over my shoulder -- Emma was rocking to Bon Jovi's "It's my life."

She loves that song.

Can you tell?

What happened to the dream?

31 Posts in 31 Days: #7

"I have a dream, that my four little children will one day live in a nation, where they will not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character."

-- Martin Luther King Jr.

I thought I said everything I had to say on the subject of Michael Jackson last week. But I heard something today, and I have to comment.

This is a difficult subject to talk about, it's hard to balance discretion and sensitivity with truth and frankness. The subject is race.

At the BET awards, Sunday June 28, host Jamie Foxx, addressing the crowd regarding the death of Michael Jackson said, "We are here for the greatest. There's no need to be sad. We want to celebrate this black man -- he belongs to us -- and we shared him with everybody else."

I know what he was trying to say, but what he did say bothers me enough, that I need to address it.

There are a lot of things in my life, that I'm not quite ready to explain to my Creator just yet. But, I could stand before God today, and tell him that I've never harbored a racist thought -- it's just not in my make up. I have plenty of flaws, but I was blessed not to have that affliction.

Dr. King's dream was not a dream for African Americans, but for all Americans. I can't speak to Michael Jackson's character -- he was an extremely complicated man -- but at his height, he was the embodiment of the dream.

He transcended race.

He didn't belong to one group of people, he was nearly universally loved by everyone. When I watched him, or listened to him, I saw his talent and energy, his charisma and his brilliance -- not his race.

The problem with racists is that they see race as the defining attribute of one's character. It is possibly the least important aspect of character. Men with the same color skin as I have, have done amazing things. They have also done horrific things. I have no claim on either one. I am my own person, and responsible -- for good or evil -- for the things that I do. If Michael Jackson's blackness was what made him great, was it also what made him weird? Both statements are absurd. But, if you see race as the defining aspect of character, then that is the only truthful conclusion you can come to. But no one wants to take credit for the bad stuff.

Our character is the sum total of our experiences, our thoughts, our actions and our intentions -- the color of our skin should have only a marginal impact, if any, on the development of character.

Ironically, Michael Jackson's own songs indicate how he felt about the subject of race. Go back and listen to "Heal the World." Listen to "Black or White."

Michael Jackson was not perfect. Dr. King was not perfect. I'm not perfect, and neither are you. But, I have to ask, why do we still see this kind of thing everyday (and by the way, there is no such thing as reverse racism -- it's just racism)?

The march on Washington was in 1963.

The great healing dream was given voice 46 years ago.

Why can't we get past this?

"Heal the world. Make it a better place. For you and for me, and the entire human race."

--Michael Jackson

Don't go away mad, just go away

31 Posts in 31 Days: #6

This may be a little rambling, and a little "stream of consciousness-ish," and it may end far from where it begins. Please bear with me...

My oldest daughter, Jordan, is going away to girls' camp tomorrow. It's something of a right of passage -- especially the first time. She'll be gone until Friday afternoon. I intended to sit down and write a sentimental piece about how she is growing so fast, and where have the years gone, and how did she get so grown up, all of the sudden? But the problem is:

I can't wait to see her leave.

And it's not because I'm so excited for the things she'll experience this week. It's because she's driving me nuts.

Jordan is almost 12, but she might as well be 14. She's a teenager in every way. She's moody. She's diffident. She's selfish. She's irresponsible. I should clarify that she is only like this for us -- she's very good for everyone else. Thank goodness for small miracles, I suppose.

I guess this is just an eye opener. I realize it's not the end of the world, but I suppose every parent hopes -- with their first child, at least -- that it will be different.

And now that I've gotten that off my chest, let me tell you about Jordan.

Jordan is, and always has been, my muse. From the moment she was born, she has sparked the most creative phase of my life. She has striking, deep blue eyes, they are her most distinctive feature, and they always have been. You know Jordan in any photograph, from any age, by her eyes. The camera loves her -- she is, by far, my most photographed subject of the last dozen years.

She can be so sweet, and so generous. I feel blessed that Jordan and I share an artistic inclination. I cling to that and hope that it will be a common ground, in the coming years. Even as I sit here, I want to go back and change the opening lines of this post, but I also want to keep my thoughts in context.

I am looking at pictures of her, and remembering twelve years of smiles and serene beauty. I think of a little girl so eager to please, so anxious to make others happy. I know she's still there. I see it in these photographs.

In the end, it's hard to hide who we really are.

My baby, the beautiful child who made me a father, is rapidly growing into a beautiful woman. I've always longed to see her fly, and now that that time has come, it scares me. I imagine all the wrong choices she could make, all the frightening and unknown aspects of life that seem to depend on the direction of the wind. I grip tighter, but I know what's coming.

She's leaving tomorrow, and from here on out she'll be more young woman than little girl.

As I sit here, I remember that little hand in mine, so many years ago -- gripping so tight then. It seemed like it always would.

Maybe that little hand always will hold tight to mine. Maybe that's what will see us through these other times.

Goodbye Jordan,

I love you,

Have fun, and come home to me when you're done.

I'll always be here for you.