Creepers

Let's do a little imagination exercise:

Close your eyes (but keep reading) and picture what the stereotypical murderer/rapist looks like. Obviously this will be different to each person. Imagine his/her gender, height, weight, ethnicity, race, hair color, manner of dress, and any tattoos, piercings, or other distinguishing marks he/she may have. Now that you have a good picture of this person in your mind, I invite you to come to New York City so that you may meet him/her.

I guarantee you that the person you have pictured lives in New York City. He/she may not live in Omaha or Provo, but he/she is definitely here. In fact, I think I saw him/her on the subway this morning. No matter what neighborhood you live in, you will probably see him/her on your street and by your office. You'll see him/her at your grocery store and you'll encounter him/her on a darkened alley on your way home at night.

That's just the way it is here. There are so many different people packed into such a small geographical space, that you are guaranteed to run into every single person you might imagine.

It's pretty cool.

Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. Sandwiched between Halloween and Christmas, it is an opportunity for family to gather, eat, and watch/play football. This year we spent it in Omaha where my sister-in-law (this blog's only reader) cooked a wonderful meal for twenty-one people.

Omaha is different than New York City; Omaha has Wal-Mart. There are things that we like to purchase at Wal-Mart that we can't find in the city. So when I flew back from Omaha on Saturday, I did so with a checked bag full of food and household supplies.

That is all.

Humbling

William and Mary Norton evacuated their Breezy Point home last year during Hurricane Irene. Since Irene was not as bad as had been predicted, and since William was recovering from a health condition, the couple decided not to heed mandatory evacuation orders as Sandy approached. Their one-story home sits 3-4 feet above the ground, half a mile from the beach. The storm surge coupled with a full moon high tide brought water to their deck, up the stairs, and into their home. As the two 88 year-olds piled clothing on their bed, the storm waters rose to their waists. They spent dark and cold evening huddled on their bed without power, water, heat, or cell service. In the morning their neighbors rescued them with a borrowed sailboat. (http://tinyurl.com/cmnq4yl).

This morning I tore out their bathroom.

I volunteered with the Mormon Helping Hands in Rockaway and was assigned the Breezy Point area. The experience was incredible.

We took two subways out to a chapel in Brooklyn, then boarded a bus out to Rockaway, then another bus out to Breezy Point. There are many volunteers in the area, but the people there could use many more. Most houses are being gutted or have been condemned. The area is in a district, not a stake, so it is under the direction of the New York, NY South Mission and its mission president. The mission president (a full-time leader) has mobilized his considerable manpower (150+ missionaries) to assist in the clean up efforts. The missionaries are not currently teaching or tracting, instead they spend every day in the hardest hit areas, performing service and coordinating service efforts. Members from the Manhattan stake have been encouraged to perform service on Saturdays and Sundays. There is an abbreviated sacrament service at the Brooklyn chapel on Sundays that is attended by members in work clothes, so that they can immediately board buses to get to work.

The Manhattan 2nd Ward is Better Than Your Ward

Allow me to lay out a few assumptions/generalizations. Though these aren't true in every circumstance, they are more likely than not accurate.

- Smart people tend to do well in school and attend prestigious universities. 

- People that do well in prestigious universities tend to be hired by successful companies and are paid well.

- Successful companies tend to have offices in large cities. 

- Handsome/beautiful people are attracted to wealthy people, or those that will eventually become wealthy (because they are smart). 

- When handsome/beautiful people mate with wealthy/smart people, they have handsome/beautiful/smart children that will eventually become wealthy.

When these handsome/beautiful/smart children get together to perform a primary children's program, it goes something like this:

- Flute solo by a primary child.

- Heartfelt testimonies by primary children

- Six person boys choir (in matching sport coats)

- Girls choir

- Vocal solo by primary girl with primary choir accompaniment

- Vocal solo by primary boy

- Talk by primary boy who quoted George Bernard Shaw

Needless to say, we feel a bit out of place here. At least our baby is cute.

Sundays in New York

We don't buy things on Sundays. In the past it hasn't been an issue for us because most places in Utah are closed on Sunday. Also, we didn't often find ourselves out and about on Sundays when we lived in Utah. We were at home, at family's house, or at church. We weren't often in commercial areas. In New York, we live 15 blocks from the church, so we often walk. Walking through New York is a commercial experience, to say the least. We find ourselves thinking, "Hey, we should stop at the store and get this while we're out," forgetting that it's a Sunday - since the city is alive as normal and we're walking around like normal. This is compounded by the fact that every restaurant is jammed with New Yorkers having brunch.

Just a thought.

Change in Missionary Age

The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints announced today that young men will be eligible to apply for missionary service when they have graduated from high school (or its equivalent) and have attained age 18. A few thoughts about this change:

- The pool of potential missionaries will increase. I'm sure it is not an entirely uncommon occurrence for a young man to graduate from high school with full intentions of serving a mission, only for that intention to dwindle with time, or become impossible through transgression. With missionaries able to depart immediately following high school, they will not face this awkward waiting period.

- There will be less demand for male BYU dormitory housing. Dorms are mostly occupied by pre-missionary boys who are attending BYU for a year before they can serve a mission. If most boys serve before they start school, they will most likely live off campus upon their return.

I think this change will be positive. I wish I could have gone right after high school.

Welcome Home

Today I attended the Pittsford ward with my brother and my baby. Coming back to your home ward is an interesting experience. You see all the people that made such a difference in your formative years, and you want to show them the best side of you, so that they can make comments like, "Oh that Sven, he's grown up to be such a nice man," or "Wow, look at Sven's baby - he's the cutest ever!" Well today's homecoming was unique, to say the least.

As we walked into the chapel, about 10 minutes late, baby decided to take a running facedive into the wooden side of a pew. I had already felt all eyes on us as we walked in, and my suspicions were confirmed when baby's accident elicited an audible gasp from the entire congregation. He bled a little, and cried a lot, but eventually calmed down and we finished the service without further incident.

As we were getting up to leave, a random lady came up to us and said, "I don't know if you noticed, but you son fell and hit his head when you were walking in here." I replied that I indeed, had noticed. Then she went on, "I don't mean to criticize, but as a medical professional, I thought I'd mention that you really shouldn't pick him up by one arm like that." I replied that while I appreciated her concern, I was fully capable of raising my own child. She then asked how I'd like it if someone were to pick me up by one arm. "I'd like to see someone try that," was my retort. She then warned me one last time about how I might dislocate his shoulder. I ended the conversation by assuring her that I knew what I was doing and that I intended to completely ignore her advice. I was probably inappropriately rude to her, but that's how I roll.

Welcome home, indeed.

Stroller Incident

I ran over baby with a stroller today.

Recently baby has learned how to undo the straps in his stroller. Often while we're walking around town, I'll see him sliding down in his chair, and usually I catch him before he falls out. Not today. At first when I felt something dragging beneath the wheels, I assumed it was his blanket, which I have often driven over. But the stroller felt lighter at the same time, which was not normal. I soon realized it was baby once I ran over him with the stroller and there he was, on the ground, by my feet.

He didn't even cry. I guess he's used to my parenting style.

Puke

Baby has been sick the last week or so. His nose is always running and he's got a crazy cough.

Today he was falling asleep in his high chair after lunch, so I gave him a bottle and set him on the couch so he could fall asleep. He came close, but never fell asleep. Upon finishing his bottle of milk, he came over to me, wanting to play. I gave in. We went to the bedroom and wrestled on the bed. It was epic horseplay. One second he was buried in blankets and the next he was suspended over the edge of the bed by his ankles. It was awesome.

So once we're done, he promptly pukes all over the hallway floor. Being a wise father, and knowing that these things come in twos or threes, I promptly placed him in the (empty) bathtub as I ran for paper towels and disinfectant. By the time I had returned he had puked all over the toilet, floor, bathtub, and all his bath time toys. So I stripped him naked and washed his clothes in the sink. Then I cleaned the floor and toilet and took him out of the bath so I could clean the tub and his toys. While I'm working on the bathtub, naked baby proceeds to pee all over me, the toilet, and the floor.

Some days you just can't win.

Shampoo is Better

If you can't tell, I'm still procrastinating on my big paper.

So what's the deal with shampoo and conditioner bottles? Seems to me, the most important word on those bottles is "shampoo," or, in the alternative, "conditioner." Well if it's most important why is it always the smallest? Every hair product bottle I've come across is labeled something like:

Pantene Pro V

Moisturizing and Straightening for Oily Hair

Hypo-allergenic/All Natural

Mango/Guava scented

Conditioner

The worst is when you're at a hotel or staying with a friend, so you're in a foreign shower. Now you're trying to curve your body away from the all-too-hot shower stream (since you're unfamiliar with the knob-temperature ratios), while still maintaining a safe distance between your body and those weird hairs on the wall, peering through the mist, squinting through the tears from having strange soap in your eyes, looking for the word "shampoo" in 4 point font.

Why are government leaders arguing about global warming and gas prices when we haven't addressed this yet? Especially since this can be solved so easily. HR Bill 250-2 - The shortest piece of legislation ever penned:

"From this day forward, all bottles containing shampoo must be blue in color and all bottles containing conditioner must be yellow in color. Pert Plus may remain green. Penalty for violation of this statute is death."

Alive

I'm still here. So is baby.

The last few months have been pretty uneventful. I'm finally in my last semester of school, which would be awesome except that I have a big paper to write and I can't find the motivation to start. I've finished all my Words With Friends games and have had my wife change my Facebook password, so I have eliminated a few distractions. I've done a lot of research and I've got a good outline - it's just the motivation to actually start writing the paper which eludes me.

We're the apartment managers of the complex where we live. It's full of single guys, and we're the "show apartment" for potential tenants who want to see what the units look like. Often these guys will ask about the singles ward, which admittedly, we know nothing about. Hoping to solve that problem, my friend and I created a website which allows students to rate their singles wards and provide information about them online. After many months of work (mostly by my friend), the site is up and running. http://ratemysinglesward.com. Now I am tasked with marketing this baby and getting some users/visitors. So I have that to distract me from writing this paper.

I've also been working for an attorney in Salt Lake on a lawsuit he's filing in Washington State. It's a pretty boring contract dispute, but he pays me to work on it from the comfort of my couch, so who am I to complain? Now that we've finished the initial pleadings, I've been given Special Power of Attorney to contact various government agencies to see that the person we're suing is subjected to criminal prosecution for falsifying information on various loan applications. So there's another distraction.

Finally there's my walking/talking 2 foot tall poop monster distraction. Baby continues to grow and develop like babies should. Since we're moving across the country later this year, we've been slowly going through many of our belongings, deciding which things we need to keep and which things we can get rid of. The other day, we had a sack full of unwanted items on the floor when baby pulled out a wine glass. Hearing his actions and sensing trouble, I started running towards him to get the glass. As soon as he saw me he smiled the most devilish grin imaginable and threw the glass on the floor at my feet, shattering it into a thousand pieces. He can be a turd like that. Speaking of turds, baby is pulling on my pant leg yelling "nee nee," which means it's time to change a stinky diaper.

Sickness

Baby is sick today. He keeps coughing and sneezing. When he sneezes, his giant snot boogers just hang down from his nose until he rubs up against something or eats them. I try to keep an eye on him so that I can wipe his nose before he recycles the boogers. Well my last catch was amazing. It was like a buzzer beater in basketball. The snot booger was already in his mouth when I grabbed it out and saved the day.

Also, sometimes baby has poops that are one moderate sized hard chunk. It's possible that when he does that type of poop in a relatively freshly changed diaper, I may at times just pull the poop pellet out through the leg hole with my hand and flush it. It's so much easier than changing the whole thing.

Since I've got the liqui-poop today, I'm keeping a watchful eye on baby to make sure that he doesn't get it, and that if he does, I'm there to change it right away. In the meantime, baby will remain in his cage watching Disney Channel while I expel every ounce of water in my body through my bunghole.