"Coming Out" of the Laundry Closet

I have an odd "coming out" story. It makes me laugh now when I think about it, but at the time it was rather horrifying.

I had spent many years working through my gay issues. As I've mentioned before, I was raised Mormon and you simply can't be gay and Mormon. It was an extremely turbulent time of my life. But, finally I had come to accept myself as being gay and I was okay with it.

I had rented some gay-themed movies. Now these weren't dirty movies like Raiders of the Lost Arse and Shaving Ryan's Privates. They were simply gay-themed movies I had rented from Blockbuster.

My sister was coming down to visit for a few days. She had a key to my house and was going to arrive during the day while I was at work. I vividly remember looking at the DVDs on my dresser and thinking how I better put them somewhere where she wouldn't see them. Being the sneaky devil that I am, I buried them in the dirty clothes in my laundry basket.

Now, my sister has never done my laundry before. Why she chose to on this particular day is still a mystery. I suppose she arrived at my house and decided to do something nice for me.

You can imagine my horror when I arrived home to neatly stacked piles of clean laundry on the back of the couch. First my left eye started to twitch uncontrollably and then I wet myself. My mind was racing as I climbed the stairs to my bedroom to change my clothes.

When I saw my laundry basket I had a glimmer of hope. There were still some dirty clothes in it, and a quick check revealed gay videos still hidden under my dirty jeans.

My sister didn't say anything while she was visiting. I did, however, receive a phone call from her several days later. Of course she found the videos and had been stewing over the whole situation for days. Finally she couldn't take it any longer and called me up (and out.)

I confirmed her suspicions. It was actually somewhat of a relief. I suppose there was all kinds of speculation already rampant in my family. After all, any Mormon male over the age of 21.5 years who isn't married is either a homosexual or is a masturbator (can't get married until you stop "abusing" yourself.)

My sister and I had several discussion on the matter over the next several weeks. She of course quoted the standard Mormon positions and ways to "overcome" the problem. I assured her I was familiar with every single word ever written on the subject and had explored every avenue suggested by the "experts" on overcoming same-sex attraction.

We finally had to agree to disagree. This was followed by a several week long "cooling off" period. I think sometimes after the initial flurry of emotion associated with "coming out," people need some time to come to terms with the situation. We shouldn't expect our family and friends to immediately embrace something that has likely taken ourselves years to accept.

To this day, I've never felt the need to gather my family together and declare my gayness. That is important to some, but I've never been so inclined. I told my sister I was fine with her sharing the news with anyone she felt she wanted to. Anyone who doesn't know it by now must be daft.

I still feel accepted by my loved ones. I think everyone has embraced Craig as part of the family. I'm sure there are those that are certain I will not go to the Celestial Kingdom. But, I hear the Pride celebration there isn't all that great anyway.

It's odd to think that I was "outed" by my dirty underwear. But, as usual, I wouldn't have it any other way.

I Can't Wait!

When I was young I couldn't wait to be old enough to have my bedtime at 9:30 p.m. instead of 8:30 p.m.

I couldn't wait to go to Jr. High.

Getting my driver's license was an eternity away.

Oh, how I just wanted to graduate from high school.

If I only owned a car.

Would I ever get to visit Europe?

Graduating from college.....will it ever happen?

A job! That's what I need.

If only I made more money.

All of these highly anticipated events came and went, but not one changed who I am. Some brought short-term happiness, but none transformed my life into a state of bliss.

On the other hand, today I got to hold Craig's hand while I drove him to school. Right now Max is curled up on my lap. Sunday we ate cake with Alasdair and Josh. Saturday I drank chocolate milk while watching the Peach Days parade. Last week I got to sing with the Salt Lake Choral Artists.

Now those things.....bliss.

Public Displays

I'm pretty neutral on the subject of Public Displays of Affection. Being a bit on the shy side, I generally tend to avoid anything too outrageous, but if others want to practice "public love" then more power to them. I do think two guys need to be a little careful as there are still many people that "don't care much for them homosexuals."

So yesterday I arrived at Choral Artists' rehearsal and parked next to Craig who was waiting in his truck. It had been a rough couple of days for both of us and I hadn't seen him all day so we got out of our vehicles and hugged. It was a much needed hug and went a little longer than the normally accepted man-on-man hug duration.

Of course all the other 200 members of Choral Artists were arriving and parking their cars at that same time and I'm sure there were more than a few raised eyebrows.

From the perspective of the onlookers, here is how (in my mind) the whole thing played out:

Pearl (elderly soprano): "Oh how sweet, young love....wait. Is that...no it couldn't be. Wait, it is. Two boys! Oh my goodness. Oh dear, oh dear, where is my bible..."

Margaret (haggard alto): "Oh look, one of them must have just received some really bad news. Death in the family? Cancer? What a nice friend to comfort him like that. I'm going to bring him a casserole."

Randy (bitter homosexual tenor): "Pleassse, (lispy) get a room."

Darrell (unhappily married bass): "Look honey, a couple of fags. What is this world coming to? Disgusting." "Say, that shorter one is kinda cute. Strong arms, nice ass......." "Oh, sorry honey! I'll be right there."

The End

(This is Davey's first theatrical work. He graduated from Utah State University with a degree in Journalism. Davey hails from Brigham City and likes to hunt, fish and play football. He would like to thank his parents, Craig, Max and Jesus for all their love and support.)

A Quick Rant

I hesitate to post this entry because it is not really the tone I want to have in my blog. But I'm going to do it anyway and maybe I'll delete it later once I settle down.

I take my relationship with Craig very seriously. Though we don't enjoy the same rights as a traditionally "married" couple, I think we both agree a piece of paper wouldn't make our relationship any more committed.

I have utter disdain for those who proclaim to be in a relationship but then don't act accordingly. I'm disgusted to hear about people who betray the trust of their loved ones. As far as I'm concerned, physical or mental abuse of a spouse should get life in prison (with torture every other Wednesday.) Cheating on your partner...death penalty.

Serious relationships aren't for everyone, and that's fine. But don't drag another person into a committed relationship that you aren't going to live up to. I'm amazed at the selfishness some people display.

Am I the perfect partner? Husband? Wife? (Whatever) Definitely not. Just ask Craig. But I feel I have a strong sense of what is appropriate and what is not. And quite frankly, I look forward to many years of practice getting better.

Now I must go run around the block, or something.

Jet Skiing-Part II

A week ago we went up to Logan again for another jet skiing adventure. It was really a nice day with perfect temperatures and a great sunset.

Above you can see Josh making a splash just as the light faded. Luckily he is in silhouette since he insisted on jet skiing naked. Well actually he was wearing just a life jacket......safety first.

It was one of those days that in the middle of January you look back on and remember the warm air, the clear sky, the angry yellow jackets, the look on Alasdair's face when as I whipped him around in the tube. We also shouldn't forget getting stuck in the underwater weed forest and Craig and his cattail.

Overall, a fine day. I liked it a lot.

Farewell Summer

It's a lazy Saturday morning. Craig is out mowing the lawn, Max is sprawled on the floor, Daisy is sunning herself in the backyard. I am walking around the house with my crazy morning hair and trying to get motivated.

Today is supposed to be 100 degrees, tomorrow 82 and Monday 64. Though I used to love the summer and the heat, I find myself more partial to the spring and fall. Warms days and cool nights, that's the thing for me.

I see I've been a bit of a slacker lately posting blog entries. It's been a bit of a challenging week and I tend to not feel like writing when I'm not feeling perky. I will try to do better.

So I'm off to shower and then we go to Logan to help Brent move. I need to hurry before Craig comes in and yells at me for being lazy......and then stares at my hair.

Sing a Song of the Speedo

It seems like every time I turn on the TV there is some guy prancing around in a speedo. Now, granted it's mostly the Olympics on my TV these days, but still.

You have to be quite comfortable with yourself to slip into this mere suggestion of clothing. Especially knowing your mostly naked self will be viewed by a billion people on the telly. (Many in high definition, I might add.)

I suppose if anyone should be allowed to wear a speedo it would be an Olympic athlete. However, I assure you during our recent trip to an Italian beach there wasn't an Olympic athlete to be seen. Apparently the official swimwear for Italy is the speedo, the skimpier the better. After a few hours on that beach, I felt I needed an eyewash station.

Those Italian men are a hairy-legged bunch. At first I couldn't figure out why everyone was wearing fur pants to the beach, but then I realized......

Anyway, it's not just the tiny swim wear I find odd. It seems every other male Olympic athlete has some sort of too-tight outfit on. Don't forget the runners, wrestlers and gymnasts. What's with those tight little gymnast pants? I don't think I should be able to take one glance at a gymnast and know which way his pommel horse is pointed. Maybe I'm just old-fashioned.

And finally, I've always wondered about the swimmers shaving every square inch of their bodies. Does that really make them faster? I guess looking like a giant 10-year-old boy may have its advantages. After all, I've never seen an Italian male swimmer sporting an Olympic medal.

Well, I'm off to shave my legs before I take a shower. I'm hoping to take 3/100ths of a second off my best time.

My Grandma is a Bitch

Well, not mine actually. My grandma is neither a bitch nor is she....well.....alive.

I actually saw this phrase spray painted on one of my sidewalks at work today. I couldn't help but think this is the oddest graffiti I've ever seen. What could a grandma do to cause such anger? Are her homemade cookies gross? Does she pinch the cheeks too hard? Honestly, bitch and grandma just shouldn't be in the same sentence.

Then I remembered I was in West Valley City. Perhaps this grandma was a heroine dealer or dabbled in the kiddy porn. More likely, she simply refused to give her grandchild money to buy meth or vodka.

Either way, perhaps in the future this person's sentiments could be expressed via a nice card or even an email, and NOT spray painted on my sidewalk. Just a thought.

Consider Me Assessed

This spring they announced to all the Salt Lake Choral Artist members that we would be required to complete a vocal assessment with Dr. Allred. Essentially this was a re-audition where we would sing a solo of our choice and a section of Mendelssohn's Elijah.

I was particularly nervous to re-audition considering I had never actually auditioned in the first place. In fact, I've never had to do a vocal audition in my entire life. I only started singing in January of this year. What was a nervous baritone to do??

Craig and I have been pounding out our solos for the past several nights. Then we would sing along to our recording of Elijah. Then we'd each complain about how we don't like our own voices.

So last night the assessment finally happened. I was so afraid my nerves would get to me. I pictured the audition and could see myself passing out or choking on snot or something. I was also worried about the nervous vibrato. You know, when your vibrato speeds up to where you sound like Snow White. That's just great. Birds fluttering around my head as I vibrato-ed away.

We drove up to the university and sat outside his office door waiting our turn. I felt like I was waiting for an interview with the bishop or something. I could hear a lady in his office warbling away.

Our turn finally came and I went first. First we did lots of "ma ma ma-ing" to determine my range. Then I sang my solo. My sight reading didn't go great, but I survived. Dr. Allred then had Craig come in and we sang together a section from Elijah. Then I went back to the hall while Craig did his stuff.

While I was waiting, some old guy showed up for his audition. He asked if I'd been in already. I said, "Yes, I'm just waiting for my other half." He said, "Oh, that's great that you and your wife are in the group together." I stared at him for a minute, coughed, then stared at this bug crawling on the wall.

The look on his face was priceless when my "wife" came out. I'm not sure why. Maybe Craig was taller than he expected.

It was actually a good experience despite my terror. My blood pressure should return to normal sometime next week. I always enjoy a good growing experience, especially once it's over.

Relationships...What a Kerfuffle

Aren't the relationships they show in movies great? The movies always fade to black right after the happy couple joins hands and walks off into the sunset. We then walk out of the theater thinking that's how our relationships will be.

However, if the movie kept rolling, we would see the couple walking out of the sunrise not speaking to each other. See, all that walking can really make a person grumpy. Plus there was that thing he said that came out wrong, then you couldn't agree on something, feelings got hurt then the in-laws did this or that and you felt like your opinion wasn't important and then the ex-boyfriend comes along......AHHHHH.

I'll tell you right now, being in a committed relationship is the most satisfying, soul-fulfilling thing that can happen to a person. But it does require effort.

I'm afraid that too many relationships are destined to fail because the people aren't compatible. If you try to make a go of a relationship with someone that doesn't share your core values you are looking for trouble. YOU CAN'T CHANGE PEOPLE TO FIT WHAT YOU ARE LOOKING FOR! Don't believe me? Give it a whirl and see.

Physical attraction is important but will never be enough. The most gorgeous person in the world can quickly become homely once you get to know them. If you base a relationship solely on how sexy someone is, what happens when they get older and start to sag? Yup, it happens to us all.

I also think sometimes compatible people simply give up on their relationships too easily. Having disagreements doesn't mean the relationship isn't working. In fact, I'd be more worried if you don't have a squabble once in while.

My dad used to always tell me that relationships don't have to be 50/50, they just have to add up to 100. I know there are many days when I don't have 50 to give, but Craig always makes up the difference.

So, avoid toxic relationships. Cultivate positive ones. And if you haven't found that someone yet, keep looking. He/she is out there.

Faure, Faure Away

That Faure is a genius. If he were still alive I'd buy him a chocolate shake from Burger King.

If you've never heard his Requiem, put it on your list of things to do. We had the honor of performing this piece along with John Rutter's Requiem at the final session of the Summer Choral Institute last week. What an amazing experience.

The choir was a little bigger than the previous sessions and we actually had as many men as women. Sure, a few couldn't really....well....sing. But, the whole purpose of the Summer Choral Institute is to give people some exposure to choral music and allow them to learn from one of the best choral conductors in the world.

We performed the pieces with orchestra and organ accompaniment. The harpist was an a#%hole but other than that, an experience to remember.

Cheese+Puffs=Delicious

Most people think them a food for children under 5. I say they are a cheesy little slice of the Celestial Kingdom.

Craig's sister Julie had us over for dinner the other week and cheese puffs were on the menu. I'd forgotten how my taste buds so enjoy the puffs. You need to watch out though, you can sit down with a bag and before you know it you've eaten half of it.

Then Craig brought a bag home from the store the other day. Oh, the guilty pleasure. I took a look at the nutritional information on the bag. Yeah, um....cheesy little slice of love handles is more like it.

I've noticed whenever I have a session with the puffs I always end up with a numb tongue and permanently stained orange fingers. Though that orange color is resistant to soap and water, it has no problem transferring to everything I touch for the next 3 days. Sorry walls, phone, Max, piano music and every white shirt I own.

Why am I writing about cheese puffs? I don't have the slightest idea. Obviously I need help.

The End

Homosexuals: Revered by All?

It has come to my attention that there are people out there who are not fond of the homosexuals. I know, I was incredulous as well. Apparently to some we represent a threat to the very moral fabric of our society.

Our friends at the Westboro Baptist Church actually run a website, GodHatesFags.com. These are the people that demonstrated at Matthew Shepard's funeral and proudly commemorate his death with a count of how many days he has been in hell.

Though less extreme in their approach, numerous major religions subscribe to the idea that homosexuality is sinful, unnatural, and abhorrent to God.

It is difficult, but I choose not to respond with the same hatred and anger that is directed toward me. Instead, I'm simply curious.

Maybe there is something to the idea that people hate in others what they hate about themselves. Maybe people feel good about being involved in a "cause." Maybe people don't even know why, it's just what they were taught.

It's strange to think that I am probably looked upon by some people with more contempt than child molesters, spouse abusers and maybe even murderers. What an odd sense of morality some people hold.

Now I'm the first to admit I poke fun at the lesbians now and then, but I assure you it really isn't mean-spirited or spiteful. So, if you think me a hypocrite, send your hate mail and I will make an appropriate act of contrition.

Meanwhile, consider this: Everybody knows someone who is gay, whether you (or they) know it or not. When Fred Phelps declares that "God hates fags," he is not talking about some limp-wristed lispy homosexual in San Francisco. He's talking about your son or brother or uncle or neighbor.

Strike Three...You're a Lesbian

Today at Josh's softball game I was noticing the girl to guy player ratio was more than a little skewed in favor of the lesbians. You couldn't swing a dead weiner dog without hitting a lezzie wearing a softball mitt.

Sure there are a few token gay guys on the teams but for the most part, girl power. Craig, I and Alasdair sat quietly on the bleachers carefully averting our eyes whenever one of the the lezbies sauntered by. They can be quite intimidating with their mohawks, scars, tattoos, sharp teeth and crazy eyes.

Once I accidentally bumped into a lesbian outfielder at the drinking fountain. She spat at me snarled, "Watch it pussy boy." I backed away slowly, careful not to make any sudden movements. Her red-eyed Rottweiler strained at the leash wanting desperately to bite me in the larynx.

I've noticed the the umpire's calls always seem to go in favor of the meanest looking lesbians. One pitch was so high it sailed over the batter's head and hit the umpire in the throat. One glare from the lesbian pitcher is all it took. "Steeee-rike," he gurgled, wiping the spinal fluid leaking out his ear.

I say leave the sports to the lesbians. We have more important callings in life such as making music, cutting hair and flight attendant-ing.

Make a List

When lots of bad things seem to be happening around you, sometimes you need to make a list of some things you are thankful for. Here are a few of mine:

1. My sister Marianne
2. British humor
3. Choral music
4. Garden tomatoes
5. Air conditioners
6. COT
7. Lightning
8. My friendships with some amazing people
9. Mechanical pencils
10. People who laugh frequently

It's Rotten, Throw It Away

I took a food safety class when I was going to Utah State. It ruined me forever. All the talk of pathogens and food poisoning turned me into the food police. Since then I eye every potato salad suspiciously. When camping, I have this urge to do a thorough background check on every food item to ensure proper refrigeration was practiced at all times.

Craig, on the other hand, does not share my paranoia. Expired milk, no problem. Three month old lunch meat, it's fine. In fact, with a sniff and a shrug almost anything in the fridge is fair game.

I can't tell you how many times I've looked on in horror as he downs some too-old leftovers or slurps a past-its-prime Yoplait.

I remember an Asian roommate in college used to leave his raw hamburger out on the counter for days. Once its edges turned a pale shade of green it was ready. He cooked it up and had a feast.

I guess some people build up a resistance to the rotten food. I can't help but prefer the un-rotten kind.

Sometimes when Craig isn't home I'll look through the fridge and throw away anything that seems iffy. Just doing my best to keep our home vomit-free.

Now if you'll excuse me, Craig just went to bed and I need to see what's in that tupperware behind the ketchup.

Gay and Mormon?

Jorge from Spain left me a comment asking me if it is possible to be gay and Mormon. It's a good question, one that probably gets asked frequently by members of the Mormon church who are struggling with their sexual orientation.

Just to clarify, I was raised Mormon and all of my family members are Mormon but I don't identify as being Mormon now. I'll talk more about this in a minute.

Though the issue is complex, I think the answer to Jorge's basic question is no, the Mormon church does not allow gay men or women to be members.

The church membership is approaching 12 million. If we estimate half are men and 10% of them are gay that leaves us with 600,000 gay Mormon men. Now don't get all bent out of shape if you don't agree with those numbers. I'm just trying to make a point that there are more than just a few Mormons that are gay, think they might be gay, or are just confused in general about the whole thing.

My personal experience and numerous friends in this situation give me (I believe) some credible insight into the situation.

Keep in mind someone raised in the Mormon church will have deeply held beliefs and convictions. I understand this will be the case with many other religions as well but I will stick to what I know. These beliefs are instilled from birth and include a very defined set of rules and responsibilities. Mormons believe this life is a "test" that will determine what reward they will receive after they have completed this earth life.

You can imagine the conflict present in an individual who is Mormon but is attracted to members of their same gender. Church doctrine teaches that acting on these "feelings" will compromise their eternal happiness, separate them from their families in the afterlife, etc.

So, what is one to do? Here are a few reactions that I have experienced or encountered:

1. Ignore the feelings. Consider it a phase. Wait to grow out of it.


2. Experiment, but still consider it a phase. Probably experience feelings of guilt. May talk to a church leader, confess, ask for help, etc.


3. Read books on the subject. Go to counseling. Join Evergreen (http://www.evergreeninternational.org/)


4. Live a double life. Date guys on Saturday night, then go to church on Sunday.


5. Ignore the feelings. Get married, have a family.


6. Stay active in the church. Never act on the feelings. Stay single and celibate.


7. Leave the church. Wait for the church to change its position.


8. Leave the church.

Obviously there could be many others but I feel this is a good representation. I don't presume to make any judgements about the paths others may take. I hope people will make choices that allow them the happiest and most fulfilling life.

I know personally I reached a point where I refused to believe that my life was supposed to be one of loneliness and despair. I remember clearly the day I looked in the mirror and said, "Yeah...I'm gay." 8 or 9 months later I met Craig and now 6 years later I am content as can be.

As for my feelings toward the church, I suppose I view the Mormon church with the same feeling of uncertainty that I view any church, but also with the same respect I have for any church that promotes good.

So there you have it. My two-cents on a subject that probably should fill volumes. Go forth and be gay...or not.

...And I'm a Little Bit Rock 'n' Roll

Remember the Osmonds? Donny, Marie, Jimmy, uh....Lance? Justin? Whatever.

Saturday Craig and I went to a pioneer commemoration concert featuring the Mormon Tabernacle Choir and the Osmonds. It was one of the strangest things my bluish eyes have ever seen, but oddly enjoyable.

The nine siblings sang mostly their hits from the 1970's. The program alternated back and forth between the choir and the Osmonds, each performing a set of songs. It was a bit of an odd combination-pioneer songs by the choir, then rowdy 70's songs.

It was strange to see see the Conference Center transform into a rock concert venue, complete with flashing lights and spinning love flower lights. I couldn't help but notice a few nervous Mormons, their eyes darting around unsure just how blasphemous this whole event was. But hey, it's the Osmonds.

The 21,000-seat Conference Center was full both nights of the event. I'm not sure just how many Osmonds there are these days but it did seem at least half of our audience had brown hair and big teeth.

Donny and Marie look surprisingly good for being 82-years-old. I suppose we (and by "we" I mean "I") can poke fun at the Osmond family all we/I want but they have been making music for 50 years and it would be hard to find someone who hasn't heard of them.

We encountered a lady in line before the concert who I suppose was Donny's "biggest fan." She was probably 50ish years old but acted like an excited teenager. I think she arrived at 6 a.m. to be first in line but unfortunately lined up at the wrong door. We had to listen to her gripe for 15 minutes after she took her place in the correct line behind us. "It's just not fair. They told me that was the line....not fair, not fair."

Once the line started moving she kept inching forward to the point she and Craig became one. Once through security she ran (and I do mean ran) for a seat. I saw her waving and crying throughout the whole concert. I did think it inappropriate when she threw her panties at Donny. Marie shot her an evil look and plucked the Plus-size Firm Control Cotton Underwear off Donny's shoulder.

We did have a good time watching the concert. Here is a picture I took.

Give Me That Taffy...or Die!

Yesterday was Pioneer Day in Utah. Craig and I donned our bonnets and pulled the wheelbarrow around the backyard. But after about 2 minutes it got too hot so we went back inside and ate cheese.

Luckily those pioneers did their thing before this whole global warming business. It is far too hot now for plain crossing.

We did watch a bit of the big parade on TV. It reminded me of the good old days when they used to throw candy from the floats. The scantily-dressed pageant queen would reach into her bag and throw a large handful of salt water taffy at the crowd of desperate children, hitting them in the eyes and backs of heads. Then the snatching and grabbing would begin. Even the piece plucked from the slimy brownish gutter water was a prize. Then the children started getting squished by floats and stepped on by horses and the candy throwing was banned. Sad how just a few unobservant children can ruin the fun for everyone.

Of course last night the neighbors had another Fireworks Spectacular. They do love their gunpowder.

Tonight we go see Iron Man with Mike and Julie. Hopefully it is much better than the Not So Incredible Hulk.

That is all for now. Happy day after Pioneer Day.

Rainy Tuesday

Josh came over last night to hang out with us. Max was really glad to see him. He really likes Josh though Josh's allergies don't love Max. I've always thought Max seems to be partial to the homosexuals.

I found out that Josh and Craig have something in common....a love of the cape. Here is my photo of the day.

He was like a different person when he stepped into that cape.

"Josh, would you like some ice cream?"

"Josh?"

"Um, Josh?"

"Oh, errr....Batman?"

"Yes please, vanilla with some chocolate syrup."

Also, yesterday we had one of those summer storms that I love so. It rained and hailed like a mother.

It was grand!

Quirks of the Beehive State

We need to talk about something very disturbing. If you live in Utah you have probably come across it yourself. I'm talking about LDS fictional literature.

Sometime after the Da Vinci Code came out some ambitious Mormon writer released The Moroni Code. Now the name alone made me snicker, but just now I went to deseretbook.com and found a description of The Moroni Code. Here it is:

"When FBI agent David Hunter is assigned to decipher the mysterious code on a letter from Joseph Smith, everything goes wrong. The code is much harder to break than he'd imagined, complicated by the fact that someone has been stealing documents from the Church's Historical Department. And always in the back of his mind is his overwhelming need to translate an even stranger document: his grandfather's authentic copy of characters from the golden plates--a fading slip of paper he jokingly calls the Moroni Code. But it's no joke. If he can work out the translation, it will mean Joseph Smith really was a prophet--and he can finally make sense of his own heritage, his own life. But first, he has to protect the Church--and time is running out. "

Oh dear. I...I...uh....don't even know what to say.

What's next? Brother Anderson and the Elder's Quorum foil a plan to assassinate the President of the United States? The 27th Ward Relief Society stops a meteor from slamming into the earth? "Come on sisters, put down your needlepoint. We have a special calling."

Stop the madness!

Going to See Blanche

Saturday we laced up our hiking boots and headed to Lake Blanche. It was a 6-mile trek in all which at certain times left us panting like dogs. Craig's brother Brent wins the prize for being in the best shape.

Here is Brent scoping out the scenery.



I wish all three of us were in the picture but Craig was off spinning around in the meadow singing "The hills are alive....." and I was sprawled on the rock sucking in the thin air.

It was a beautiful hike. One nice thing about Salt Lake City is you can hop in your car and be in the wilderness in 20 minutes.

One more picture.

Friends of MS...Not So Friendly

Whatever happened to that "Do Not Call Registry?" Apparently the Friends of MS (Multiple Sclerosis) did not get a copy. They call our house daily, sometimes multiple (sclerosis) times.

Do they know that Craig and I both have sisters that have been diagnosed with MS? Does that put us on a special "Call Frequently Registry?"

Several years ago I actually answered the call and agreed to go through my clothes and donate the ones I don't wear. I was supposed to place them on the front porch on a certain day and they would come get them. Well, I kinda forgot. My goodness...the angry calls that followed.

I'm not exactly sure how my old too-tight jeans will cure MS. Perhaps Craig and I will go through our closets and give all our ill-fitting clothing directly to our sisters. Seems to make perfect sense to me.

Meanwhile I will keep a vigilant eye on the Caller ID and not answer any calls from the "Friends."

In fact, the phone is ringing right now. Blasted! "Pals of Prostate Cancer."

A Conversation with Max

This morning Max & I were talking about how elusive happiness can be. He was explaining how he would be happy if only he could go outside, or hang out on the counter, or scratch the couch, or lay on the clean laundry.

Finally I got him to admit that happiness was a choice. Sure he could go outside and feel very happy for a while. But then he'd get bored or hungry and before he knew it he'd be happy only if he could come back inside. I told him it really was within his power to choose to be happy in his current situation, whatever it may be.

We went on to talk about how he reacts to things that happen that are beyond his control. Sometimes he needs to have his nails clipped. There is a split second after that first clip when he can choose to get angry and meow loudly in protest. Or, he can lie quietly and enjoy his little kitty pedicure.

Sure he argued at first, but finally he agreed that he enjoys feeling happy rather than angry or depressed or sad. So he's going to work on how he reacts to things. He's going to have a more positive outlook on life. He's going to enjoy the current moment, whatever he may be doing.

I told him I was proud of him for being so open and honest. He licked his bum and went to sleep.

The L Word

My family is not an "I love you" sort of family. Not that we don't love each other, we just reserve those 3 words for rare and special occasions. That is the way we were raised and I'm sure the way my parents were raised.

Craig, on the other hand, is from an "ILY" family. They tell each other frequently. Hardly a farewell or a telephone call goes by without an "I love you."

Needless to say, Craig and I are continuing our family traditions. He says the words freely, I don't. I force them out at a wedding or funeral, he says them to the Wal-Mart checker and the FedEx guy.

I'm not sure if either is good or bad. I would hope my infrequent use doesn't get interpreted in the wrong way. I also wonder if too frequent can make the phrase commonplace with less meaning.

I do know that each night before we go to sleep, Craig says "I love you" and I reply with something between a grunt and a coherent "I love you too" (depending on how far gone I am.)

So, if I've never told you that I love you, there could be 2 reasons. 1. I don't love you, and I curse the ground you walk on. 2. I do love you but my mouth just won't spit it out.

If the 2nd option applies, hopefully I show my love in other ways.

That concludes my message of the day.

With all my l...lo....(oh whatever),
Dave

Our Padre, Who Art in Heaven

Yesterday we blasted down from Wyoming so we could attend the Spanish mass at the Cathedral of the Madeleine. The choir from the Summer Choral Institute was singing for the service and we wanted to hear them.

As we sat amongst the Latinos, I couldn't help but notice how noisy the children in the congregation were. I wanted to share with the people the old Mormon trick...take an el tupperwario full of la Cheerios-ios and shove them in the childrens' mouth-ios to keep them quiet-o.

But then I remembered that old trick doesn't work so well. You pretty much just get noisy children AND crushed oats all over the floor.

A few things I enjoyed about the experience:

1. The choir sounded amazing.
2. The building was packed.
3. The cathedral is beautiful.
4. The organist was rowdy.
5. Applause during the service.

Those Catholics really know how to build a church. Now if they could only do a little less standing and sitting, standing and sitting. The more devout you are, the firmer your buttocks.

Good night.

The River Wild

Last Thursday morning Craig and I packed up the car and headed to Wyoming for my family's annual summer get-together. We stayed in some cabins in Bedford, WY which is about 60 miles south of Jackson.

We canoed, hiked, rode four wheelers, rafted down the Snake River. As we were riding the four wheelers to the top of the mountain, I couldn't help but think how manly and testosterone-filled this whole event was. What was next? Hooters for some wings and a gawk? Perhaps I was starting to turn a bit "straight." But then a horsefly bit me and I screamed like a girl. And then when I went to scratch my freshly bitten ankle, I couldn't help but notice how dry the skin on my legs was. Surely there is some lotion on this four wheeler somewhere.....It was then I realized everything was right with the universe.

Here is Craig in the Canoe.

And here is triumphant Craig after conquering the mountain.

And here is a short video of us maneuvering one of the bigger rapids on the Snake River.



The river was a bit chilly and the air was a bit nippy but overall it was a blast.

It was a very fun weekend. I loved it!

Lord (Nelson) of the Rings

Last night we attended the 2nd read-through session of the Summer Choral Institute. Haydn's Lord Nelson Mass was the selected piece. Who is this Nelson and why does he gets a mass?

Anyway, I went in with lower expectations of myself this time and had a much better time. There were only a few times when I sang my own "special" part.

The text was in Latin so I struggled a bit with some of the pronunciation. Of course the word "homo" kept showing up and I snickered each time.

I always have a good time watching the other singers. The sopranos with their shiny lip gloss and air of superiority purse their lips and look disapprovingly at the frumpy altos. The tenors with their throat-warming scarfs and neatly parted hair look at the basses and shake their heads...after all, the lower you sing the dumber you are.

The refreshments were one of my favorite parts of the night. It was this odd mix of grapes, Cheez-Its, carrot sticks, trail mix, and mini Peppermint Patties. I saw Sister Woodruf (2nd Soprano) pacing around nervously, her shifty eyes searching for the proper refreshments-punch and cookies.

Last session the refreshment table had a giant bowl of delicious-looking chocolate covered pretzels. Of course, at break time all the altos ran to the table and devoured the whole bowl. By the time I got there there was nothing but a chocolate smear on the table cloth. Altos are hungry.

Now, that comment I made earlier about the tenors obviously does not apply to Craig. (Craig, please don't beat me again, even though you say it's for my own good.)

That is all.

What if?

What if I had stuck with piano lessons?

What if I had a better relationship with my mom growing up?

What if I had chosen choir instead of band in high school?

What if I had "come out" to myself earlier in life?

What if I hadn't climbed on that roof to get the frisbee and didn' t fall off and break my arms?

What if I hadn't logged on to gay.com and chatted with Craig that first time?

What if I had decided to stay in California and not move back to Utah?


The answer is:

If all those things hadn't happened exactly as they did, I would not be exactly where I am today, and that would be a shame.

Love Thy Neighbor

Craig and I have lived in our house for 4 years and 2 months. You'd think by now we would know our neighbors, but we really don't.

I'm a bit of an introvert so I'm not one to bake cookies for the neighbors or borrow a cup of sugar. A few years ago the Asian guy across the street asked us to help him carry a piano into his house. I'm glad he asked us because we were happy to help. But, since then we've hardly even said "herro."

Oh, don't get your kimonos in a bunch. I'm just having a little blog fun.

Anyway, once the neighbor boy (maybe 6 or 7 years old) said something to us like "my dad said you two shouldn't be living together." I can't imaging why he would say such a thing. Was it because I went to Utah State and Craig goes to the University of Utah?

Well, that boy and his family moved away and now we have new neighbors that we don't know.

This spring the older couple across the street came over and introduced themselves. They said they were embarrassed they'd lived across the street for 4 years and had never introduced themselves. We told them we were kind of embarrassed about the same thing. Anyway, that was nice of them to come over and we are glad we have at least 2 friends on the street.

Now, to any neighbors that may be reading this, we would be happy to loan you an egg or a cup of sugar anytime. Don't be shy.

Showers of Sparks

We live in the most patriotic neighborhood in country. Each July 4th our streets are filled with fiery Ground Flowers, Whistling Petes and numerous illegal varieties of fireworks smuggled in from Evanston.

The whole area is quickly covered with a nasty smoky haze limiting visibility to 7-13 feet. This morning when I woke up my lips smacked of sulphur.

Here is a picture I took out of the front window at 11:43 p.m. last night.



Later, I swear the neighbors were firing guns into the air and shouting like excited Iraqis. Luckily the air machine in the bedroom makes a delightful whooshing noise that drowns out gunfire.

God bless our patriot neighbors, and God bless the United States of America. Amen.

Hunting Made Me Gay

There are 6 kids in my family. I am the 4th child, the 1st boy after 3 older sisters.

My dad was overjoyed to finally have a son so we could do all those boy things. We played catch in the backyard, fixed things around the house, and went hunting.

I remember those Saturday hunting trips fondly. We always stopped for treats at the gas station. I actually learned to drive (at age 12) out on one of those hunting trips. It was fun to spend that time alone with my dad.

Despite my fond memories of the outings, I just didn't really like the dead ducks. My dad was a school teacher and we had a relatively large family so we certainly didn't have a lot of money. But, we weren't really out hunting to feed the family. In fact, I only remember my dad cooking a duck once and I remember it stunk up the house and tasted funny.

So I remember one time we were sitting in our duck blind and some ducks flew right over us. My dad shot and a duck fell from the sky practically landing on us in the blind. I was too young to hunt at the time, maybe 9 or 10 years old, so my dad was the shooter and I was there as moral support.

As we waited for more ducks to fly over, I remember looking at that dead duck laying on the ground. It was a male Mallard so it was a very pretty creature. I kept looking away because its dead duck eye was staring at me. I would have closed its eyes (like you see on TV) except apparently ducks don't have eyelids.

I remember feeling worse and worse as I looked at its lifeless green head. It really made me sad.

My hunting career didn't last much longer after that. I started going less and less frequently. Luckily my younger brother came along and took over as my dad's hunting partner.

I'm not anti-hunting. Others can do it all they want...it's just not for me.

The End

Coming Soon:

Part 2 of the series

Scout Camp Made Me Gay

Hell...No

I don't want to go to hell. I know this because I had a small glimpse of it yesterday. It was in the form of a black 4-door Nissan with broken air conditioning.

If you take the temperature outside (98 degrees) to the 4th power that is the temperature inside my car. Luckily I brought along plenty of water. Of course my water quickly heated up to 211 degrees. Refreshing.

Now, this reminds me of something I have always known. I would not have made a very good pioneer. Even though those church songs make pioneering sound all fun and games, I know the truth. It wasn't all singing and strolling through the sagebrush.

In fact, didn't they all have to cut their own frozen toes off and eat their dead cousins? "Hyrum, will you pass me some of that thigh meat?"

Now don't get all angry. I love the pioneers as much as the next guy. Just having a little blog fun. In fact, I'm named after my own great great great (something) grandfather who died crossing the plains.

So, with Pioneer Day just around the corner I am grateful for the many sacrifices the pioneers made and thankful for all the comforts available to me today.

And now I will wait patiently for the mechanic to call me to let me know "hell" has been fixed.

Grazing for Keys: Lesbians Offer Aid

It could have happened anywhere, but we were pretty sure it was at Josh's softball game. We lost the key to Josh's apartment and had narrowed our search down to a small grassy area at the field. After the game we had lounged around on this grass for a few minutes.

There we were, Dave and Craig and Alasdair on our hands and knees crawling around on the lawn. It must have been quite a spectacle. Suddenly a couple of lesbians asked what we had lost and then spent a few minutes helping us look.

I was thinking about those lesbians and how kind it was of them to help us. Had I seen a bunch of lesbians crawling around on the lawn I would have snickered and thought "lesbians playing cattle drive."

I think I need to be a nicer person. Just last Friday on my flight home from Denver the flight attendant asked if I would give up my window seat so 3 late-arriving family members could sit together. I said no. She glared at me as if she couldn't believe someone had just defied her authority. Later she spit in my CranApple.

So, I hereby swear that if I'm ever asked to give up my window seat so a bunch of lesbians can sit together, I will glady do so.

Crikey....Mate

Here are a few things I enjoyed most about this trip:

1. The airport shuttle bus driver's name was "Diggy." (For real.) He and his best friend "Rainbow" solve crimes on Nickelodean.

2. An amazing thunderstorm here in Denver when I was driving to my hotel.

3. Our Aussie safety manager who kept talking about this "lass" that got hurt on the job. At first, I though he said "ass." Yeah, I had a good time with that. And yes, he did say "crikey" at least once.

4. Seeing my co-workers.

5. Going home to see Craig.

Hangin Out at 5280 Feet

Yesterday I hopped on a Delta Airlines plane and flew here to Denver for 2 days of work meetings.

As I was standing in the security line I couldn't help but notice how many people around me were frantically blabbing and texting and emailing on their phones and Blackberries. It was almost comical. "Well we need that contract by...blah blah" or "You tell her that proposal is not acceptable and we need.....blah."

What a noisy world we have become. I've been asked numerous times if I'd like to take a promotion and move to another city. I always politely turn the offer down. I quite like things just the way they are. Besides, I'm sure I'd have to get a Blackberry and "blah blah blah" all the day long.

Give Up Your Grudges....Even if Grudgingly

The other night I woke up at 2:30 a.m. from a bad dream about my former employer. I had a bit of a bad experience with this boss and it still bothers me when I think about it.

The odd thing is I am in such a better position in my life now than I was 5+ years ago when I had this other job. Why do I still have bitter feelings about an event that ultimately improved my quality of life drastically?

I suppose it is pretty common to have negative feelings about a difficult time in your life. Maybe it was trouble with a roommate, family member, boyfriend, boss, etc. I decided I need to remember a few things that will help me shift my perspective:

1. Things happen for a reason. Nothing is random.
2. What did I learn from the experience?
3. Am I better off today because of the experience?
4. Why do I let this person, even 5 years later, still affect my happiness?

The bottom line is that I am in charge of my own happiness. From now on, whenever I think about this former boss and I feel that knot in my gut, I will remind myself I need to be thankful for what happened. I am so much better off.

Pick a Label, Any Label

When you are in a committed relationship, what exactly do you call your other half?

Boyfriend-Mmmm....maybe 5 years ago.
Partner-Are we square dancing?
Husband-Weird
Domestic Partner-As opposed to the "undomestic" partner that bites people and poops on the couch?
Companion-I Hope They Call Me on a Mission
Roommate-Only Craig's mom.
Life Partner-Just how long can we Do-Si-Do and Allemande Left?

Hmmmm, not a great list of choices. Oh well, does it really matter? All I know is he's mine.

When the Dog Bites, When the Bee Stings...

My favorite person, kitty and puppy.

Skimming Across the Water....Squishing in the Mud

On Saturday we went jet skiing with Alasdair and Josh and Craig's brother Brent and his family. Despite one of the jet skis that refused to work, 2 pairs of lost sunglasses, one broken and one lost flip flop, and a few sunburns in odd places, we had a great time.



Here is Josh looking like a life jacket model.



Here is Brent's son, Joey, playing in the tube.




Josh and Alasdair




And here is Alasdair. Just looking at him makes you smile. You never know what irreverent words will come out of his mouth.



Then on Sunday Josh invited us to go see the Salt Lake Bees baseball game. Max loves the Bees.






The game was so much fun. It was the perfect summer weekend!

The Gays....You Won't Like Us When We're Angry

We saw The Incredible Hulk movie last night with Craig's sister and 2 of his brothers. In an effort to avoid any negative energy sent my way by the universe, I will describe only the positive aspects of this film.

(Crickets Chirping)

That concludes my review of The Incredible Hulk.

People often ask us how our families deal with the whole gay thing. We both come from very religious Mormon families. Current Mormon policy (as I understand it) is that homosexuality in and of itself is not a sin, but acting on the "tendencies" is. This is a somewhat more open position on the issue than in the 1970's when the church considered homosexuality a "crime against nature" and believed it to be a sickness that was cureable.

Let me make it very clear that I hold no ill will toward the Mormon church. I believe as an organization they do a lot of good in the world and I respect and admire those that affiliate themselves with the church.

I believe strongly that many paths can reach the same destination and I am simply on a different path then the one that I was raised on. I wish everyone could be more tolerant and accepting of those around them that might believe differently. This is something that I'd like to get better at myself.

So, as far as our families are concerned, neither of us was disowned. We still are in contact with all our family members and we attend each other's family events together. I'm not sure what kind of chatter might be happening when we are not around, but I choose not to concern myself with that. All in all, I think we both consider ourselves lucky to have great families and we appreciate the time we get to spend with them.

Pawn Shopper

Today i visited my first pawn shop. Someone told me this store has $12 brand new blu-ray movies so I decided to swing by and have a lookie.

There was something a bit creepy about this store. I'm not sure if it was the shifty-eyed people milling about, or maybe the huge rack of guns for sale behind the counter. I assumed, as anyone would, that each of those guns had actually killed someone. I didn't end up buying any DVD's as their selection was a bit skimpy (I don't know why people can't steal better DVD's to sell to pawn shops.)

They did, however, have quite a large selection of used DVD's. Maybe I'll take Craig and we'll go pick a few winners....and then stare at the guns.

Money, Money, Money....Must be Funny

Today I was thinking about money. Specifically, how much I want, how much I need, etc.

I've never considered myself particularly money motivated. I don't aspire to being a millionaire. I would never drive an expensive luxury or sports car. I don't care about having expensive clothes.

I do like having enough money to travel now and then. I am a bit of an electronics freak. I like to buy plants and trees and flowers for the yard.

I do know one thing. Money will never determine my happiness. After all, there are plenty of unhappy rich people.

Peru to Italy

Last night our friend Ryan came over and showed us his photos from his vacation to Peru. All the ruins look fascinating. Our favorite part was when he showed us pictures of Lake Titicaca. Being the 10-year-olds Craig and I are, we snickered and giggled.....Titicaca.

Then we showed Ryan our Italy photos. It was a fun night filled with pictures of old things.

Sunday Festivities

Craig and I got up Sunday morning and went to the Music & the Spoken Word broadcast on temple square. It was fun to hear the Tabernacle Choir sing the final chorus from Elijah since we sang it just a month ago. Of course they almost did it as well as we did.

Then we went and watched Josh's softball game. Here is Josh batting with Alasdair watching in the background.

It was really fun to go to the park on a Sunday afternoon and watch some softball. We really like hanging out with J & A. They are both really amazing people.

Then we came home and had dinner with Nick and Kat. Craig used to work with Nick and we became good friends with him and his wife.

Here are Nick and Kat at the "Festival of Colors." We went with them a few months ago to this festival held at the local Hari Krishna temple. It is a celebration of spring, the renewal of life, etc. Everyone throws this colored powder around and dances madly. It was really fun.

3 days, 13 songs!

After our 6 hours of rehearsal Saturday morning and afternoon, we had our Broadway concert Saturday night. It was really fun and a great learning experience. The program included:

It's a Grand Night for Singing (State Fair)
Oklahoma! Medley (Oklahoma)
All I Ask of You (Phantom of the Opera)
Waitin' for the Light to Shine (Big River)
Bring Him Home (Les Miserables)
Defying Gravity (Wicked)
Not While I'm Around (Sweeny Todd)
Some Enchanted Evening (South Pacific)
Ragtime Medley (Ragtime)
Somewhere (West Side Story)
Endless Night (The Lion King)
Climb Every Mountain (The Sound of Music)
The Impossible Dream (Man of La Mancha)

Yes, we learned 13 songs in 3 days. It was a great time. I loved it.

Why and What

Why blog? Well, for me I've narrowed it down to 2 reasons:

1. I find it quite therapeutic to review my day and try to come up with 1 or 2 things that were new or out of the ordinary. It is also nice to ponder about things you are thankful for or to remember people you know or have come in contact with that have a positive impact on your life.

2. I suppose it is a sort of journal or diary. In the future, it will be fun to go back and read old entries.

Now, what is that "Lamp-Flame" business all about? Well, it is a Buddhist Proverb I came across. I like it because it helps me remember a couple things:

1. We need to be better at living in the "now." Life is short and fragile. There isn't enough time to use up "now" worrying about the past or the future.

2. We need to learn not to resist things we cannot control. Just as a flame bends and flickers in the wind, we need to be flexible in our own lives.

And now, I need to go worship a cow......or something.

Enchanted Evening

It is 7:47 a.m. on Saturday. We are off to our full day of rehearsal and then our concert tonight where we will perform all our Broadway hits.

So I need to go eat toast with peanut butter and drink Ovaltine and go.

This is going to be a great day!

O-K-L-A-H-O-M-A

Just a few things:

1. Broadway choral night was fun. My favorite person was this 123-year-old tenor. I'm pretty sure he drove his tractor to the rehearsal (parked it at a meter outside Gardner Hall.) He stands about 3'7" so we may need a phone book for him to stand on at the concert. He obviously LOVES to sing. I want to be like him (only taller) when I'm 123.

2. We got the recording of our Elijah concert. I listened to it as I drove yesterday. It gives me the chills. Mendelssohn is truly amazing. I wish he was alive and lived in Magna so I could buy him a churro.

Hey Beautiful....

Have you noticed people get better or worse looking the more you get to know them?

I know some gorgeous people.

Who Doesn't Love to Play With Their Wii

Last night Josh & Alasdair came over and we made dinner. Josh brought his Wii so we bowled, and boxed and stuff. Also, some game with a lot of jumping and shields and jumping and swords and jumping and giant tank things.

It was a fun night.

Tonight Craig and I go to our next summer choral session. We'll be doing a bunch of Broadway music. So, off to the shower I go where I will sing something from Cats in my best falsetto. (Nobody is home but Max so I can really let it rip.)

Germanic Latin....I've Really Let Mine Slip

Last night Craig and I attened the first of a series of summer choral workshops up at the University of Utah. This particular session was a "read-through" of the piece Carmina Burana by Carl Orff. Basically a "read-through" means we sit down and sing throught the piece without any rehearsal.

Most of the people there had performed the piece before and were somewhat familiar with it. I, on the other hand, had not and was not.

I walked out kind of discourgaed because I felt so lost most of the night. I kept thinking maybe this whole choir thing is a little over my head and so forth.

The only other person there worse off than me was Spencer the 18-year-old trombone player that had been dragged there by his alto mother. He made it very clear throughout the night that choral music was not his "thing" and I suspect if he had his trombone with him he would have hit all the other singers with it.

Then I decided to stop being so arrogant and acknowledge the following:

1. The people who knew the piece already had spend months learning it. Why should I think I could just pick it up and sing it perfectly.

2. I've never even heard of Germanic Latin, let alone spoken it. It was a great experience to have some exposure to it.

3. I got in some serious sight-reading practice.

So, I'll get over myself and be grateful for the experience.

The Dirt Under My Fingernails

Craig and I love to spend time together working in our yard. When we first moved into our house the landscaping was somewhere between boring and ......er..... more boring.

First we built a fence, then a deck, then a pergola, then raised garden beds. Then we started planting trees and shrubs and flowers.

We still have a ways to go, but it is looking better and better.

The best part is the time we get to spend together doing something we enjoy. All those trips to Home Depot and nurseries.....all that sweating and digging and sun screening.....I wouldn't change it for anything.

Attention Cat Haters....

Now I understand where you are coming from. Haven't we all come across a little suprise in our sandbox or been kept awake by the sounds of "cat love."

Sure they don't always come when you call them and they stare a lot. Once in while they even get carried away while playing an innocent game of "bite the people."

However, there's nothing like your kitty curling up on your lap or purring when you pick him up. Sometimes you'll even get a paw placed gently on your face as a show of affection.

I've never considered myself a "cat person," but I do like our cat. He's very loving and loves to be around his people.

And now, I've gotta run. I hear the kitty scratching the furniture.

He Who Sings Frightens Away His Ills

One of the great joys in my life is singing in a choir.

I'm a rather shy singer unless I'm surrounded by other singers. I rarely sing in the car or the shower. In fact, the first actual choral music instruction I've had was January of this year.

Craig has been singing in the University of Utah A Cappella Choir for a few years and we decided to join a local community choir called the Salt Lake Choral Artists.

http://saltlakechoralartists.org

What an amazing experience. We rehearse on Tuesdays and just recently completed our final concert of the year. We did Felix Mendelssohn's oratorio Elijah.

I've always loved choral music and consider it one of the greatest blessings of my life to participate in this choir. It is quite remarkable when something so fulfilling comes unexpectedly into your life.

Who Doesn't Love June?

This could very well be the perfect weather day. The forecast is for 78 degrees and sunny.

It is almost dead silent outside except for a few singing birds. This is the day you long for in the dead of winter.....and here it is. Lucky me.