The Riegn of Terror

I think my post about Lehi yesterday must have angered the Lehi God's because the caused my stomach to be expunged. This morning I was required to wake up at the ungodly time of 6 A.M. (Don't laugh Tom). As everyone should know I am very selfish with my sleeping time. It's as precious to me as neo-conservative attorney to Karl Rove. Needless to say, yet I continue to type, I slept in as late as possible. My goal was to roll off the left side and slip into my ACUs, as I was required once again to defend this country from musical terrorism (in the key of E I might add), and drive to the civil engineering disaster that is Saratoga Springs, then turn left and straight until mourning. Well I did wake up, I rolled(because that's how I do), I slipped but I didn't account for the terrorist counter attack. Confused? So was I. In the U.S. Army's infinite wisdom they have decided to switch the Army's headgear going from a stunning and slimming camouflage field cap to a unpatriotic french beret (though I fear reprocutions for being critical of the military's fashion sense). When we got them I was dismayed.
This was about the time that the Bush camp had decided France was an "enemy combatant." As I put it on I wondered if the army would change its official terminology from beret to freedom cap. I often wondered what it would cost the military to reprint field manuals and paperwork that once described how to wear the beret into how to post the freedom cap on a soldier's head.
I promise you I left it in the computer room. Yet I searched and searched but to no avail. It was at this moment I understood how directly terrorism did affect us for I no that the theft of my freedom attack was direct attack on the United States by the axes of evilness. I have preliminary suspects which may or may not include members of the Lackawanna Six, who I'm convinced have relocated to Alpine, Ut to destroy freedom (fries, dip sandwiches, and caps). So thanks to terrorism I was twenty minutes late leaving home.
Before I left I realized that I didn't have time for breakfast so I grabbed my herbal supplements and a bottle of water (sorry Rocky!). I slammed down the pills and I was on my way.
It wasn't too long into my drive that I learned I needed to make an extreme paradigm shift in pilling taking. It was probably not a good idea taking pills on an empty stomach. Not being one for scatological humor, lets just say I pulled a Herbert Walker. So as I am driving I feel this intense displeasure in what is often described as the pit of my stomach. I was like this is OK, it will pass and I continue to drive on. Seconds later I realized the fatal mistake. At this point I may have thrown up a little in my mouth. Relieved that I was able to contain the material, disgusted that I had just tasted detritus, I continued to drive. It was at this point that the gastric geyser blew. Unsafely I continued to drive and open the door just in time to have "it" spill on the road. Fortunately, no one was behind me. Continuing to drive I evaluated myself, as I am often told to do in disaster scenarios. Isn't the acronym RICE?. I felt better, so it was pedal to the metal. Bad idea. I was once again driving with my head hanging out the doorway. I imagined how odd it would appear to a person looking out their living room window, just pulling open the curtains to reveal the beginning of a beautiful day, but rather than that splendor saw a US soldier puking out of a moving vehicle. It was at this moment I recognized the true complexity of a terrorist attack. These enemy combatants I was attacked by did not only want me to be late they wanted American citizens to lose faith in their military force (even if they only are musicians) by seeing them at their weakest points like puking up water out of a moving vehicle. Not wanting to show the terrorist they had won I never deterred nor stopped my vehicle. I continued to drive not only to make to my gig on time but to show the impregnability of the American spirit. I felt like a hero refusing to let terrorism slow down this American soldier.
Other Highlight was Kieth, Assistant Manager, bragging to Mitch Mallory and I that he "pretty much had a 4.o," and that Brigham Young's nursing program would be foolish to not accept him.

The unheard comment

Today I was unusually motivated to call into one of my favorite radio programs (typing program makes me feel like my Grandma talking about her "soaps", love you G-ma!). Of course I speak of Radio West, a show of which I am an addictive listener. Trust me, if I could carry it in balloons I would. The topic today was about influential album cover art. I have come across a CD by the band Les Savy Fav. The cover has a picture of a man and woman nude in a garden surrounded by ravenous animals licking their lips and ferociously growling. The title of the CD was "Let's Be Friends." When I first saw it I couldn't help but chuckle at the cleverness. I wanted to share this cover with the lovable Doug Fabrizio and my happiness that Les Savy Fav had not gone with the trend of branding the band by using pictures of themselves but rather used cover art tot tell a story about what could be expected on the album.
So I called in. As I indexed the number into the phone I felt this rush usually reserved for opening theater performances or solo oboe performances. I was nervous and the adrenaline customarily contained was allowed to secrete. The phone rang and a woman anwered asking my first name. "Jeff," came out but not in my usual tone but that of a mid-pubescent boy. I was slightly embarrassed and emasculated. I wonder if this is how a eunuch feels post-op. She then asked where I was calling from. I took a deep shallow breath and wondered where I was calling from. I think I was in Lehi, I was driving, but opted to tell her where I was from for fear of someone assuming I actually had been bred in Lehi. "Alpine," I said in a more sustained tone. She then asked me what I had to say. I think those were her exact words though I might be post-traumatic. It was at this point I began to empathize with what George w. might feel every time he is asked to speak. I knew what I wanted to say but somehow my tongue was moving to the side to side when I wanted it to move up and down. In the end I think I spit something out about Les Savy Far. She seemed to be pacified by this statement and put me on hold until Doug would allow me to speak to him. I was left alone to drive, listen to the show on my phone, and recover. I was listening to some lady talk about the Beatles. I was wondering what are you doing you're just an ass-oicates degree holder from UVU. What could you possibly add? I was ruminating on this when I noticed that a woman was speaking to me. I slightly freaked out because I thought I was on the air but then I latched on to the familiarity of the voice. It was the producer asking me the name of the band again. I was like, "Les Savy Far, L-E-S S-A-V-Y F-A-R or maybe its F-A-I-R" She then said she was going to look it up on Amazon to include the cover art on their website. There was a pause and she said ,"Do you mean Les Savy Fav." And that was it, I was shamed. I imagined a 1992 Dan Qauyle ousting William Figueroa confidently saying "no the word Potato ends with E. Yep I'm so sorry it was an E." I apologized and shriveled along with my credibility. The next few minutes were a blur. As I drove Dan Qauyle's severed head appeared in front of me mouthing, "No I'm sorry its spelled with an E. You made a great effort...It's spelled with an E...an E...E..E, E, E!!" I arrived at my destination and sat for about 20 minutes listening to the guests discuss iconic cover art. Doug then said he was going to take a call and I felt nausea in my stomach. "We have Mike on the line.."
False alarm I then politley waited as they discussed emails and there own ideas about the influence of album art. Doug then ended the show and I was crushed. I wasn't going to be on the show because of a stupid R. Dan Quayle again came to me but he mouthed "R, R, R." The woman once again came to the phone and said she was sorry but they ran out of time. To which I replied, "O.K." I shut off the car engine and exited the car grabbed the bags of food I was delivering. Shutting the door I walked towards the building in blazing heat wearing a black catering smock holding heavy food in both hands.

Lets get ready to rumble!!!

Today I had to take one of my clients to get a haircut. As we were leaving the apartment he farted. Now I'm not one for scatological humor but after he passed the wind he said, "oh, not that way out!!" How can you not fall in love with that? Well I found out how you can not love that. This same guy the day before threw papers across the room and then stormed out because his roommate looked at him wrong. He then ran back into the kitchen and took a, what I can only describe as, 19th century Irish Boxing pose. This was after I asked him to calm down. He then got this look in his eyes that conveyed the attitude, "you guys aren't even worth the fight." Now I've held the fact that this man is 70 years old and has no teeth to speak with for the sake of dramatic irony. He went to his room after "the episode." Later he was heard muttering to himself, "I'm not going to get mad no more."
This summer has been very busy. I have three jobs I' am working at right now that consume my days. I hope it will be worth it when I go to London. If you haven't heard I am taking my acting to London. I am going to be in a play there. It is through Utah State so it is not nearly as prestigious as it sounds but I'm still excited to be able to talk vaguely with people about my acting experiences in England in the hopes of making myself seem more important then I actually am.