MRE

It's not a meal; it's not ready to eat; and it's not edible. Or so I've been told. I was putting away some groceries in the basement storage room, when I came across a cache of a dozen or so MREs. They have a copyright date on the box of 1986.

Anybody want dinner? Or maybe a science project?

MN/Mex

Definitely not Tex/Mex. So, it was too early to eat dinner, especially after lunch. Call it jet lag. I finally went out looking for a restaurant that was open on the Skyway (I wasn't going outside for ANYTHING - it was 16 degrees at lunch time). There is NOTHING in this town that is open after 6 pm. I walked a couple of miles through the Skyway proving that statement. So, I ended up in the hotel bar/grill... sandwiches / snacks ... and "nachos".

That's "nachos" definitely in quotes. Chips & chicken, topped with lettuce, tomatoes, sliced olives, and sliced jalapeno peppers. Guac, sour cream, and salsa on the side. There was cheese... about as much cheese as we'd put on one chip, spread out on the bottom layer of chips, and mostly melted in the bowl.

However, I'm not hungry.

On My Way

From the customer service agent:

Passengers _____ and _____. I don't know if you believe in the hereafter, but if you do not get on the plane now you will be here after it departs. The doors are closing.

And then I got stupid

Friday morning was a comedy of errors. I packed my bags and checked out, put my suitcase in the car and was waiting to go to the convention, when it dawned on me that I'd forgotten to pack my scout uniform. I went up to the room (which was being cleaned) and got the uniform and went to the car to put it in the suitcase. Then I noticed that I was missing my hat. I'd had it in my hand before I went looking for the uniform. More backtracking... I finally found my hat on the floor in the hall where my room was. I'd evidently dropped it after I picked up the scout shirt. With all found, I started over to the convention, amused at my stupidity, when I looked down and saw the end of my lanyard had nothing hanging on it. More backtracking, but no success. (I'd noticed earlier that morning that my badge holder was starting to tear, but thought I could wait to replace it when I got to the convention center). I walked past the registration counter on my way to find the registration counter, finally found it, and got a new name badge.

And then I was given a bag of cookies. It made up for all of my stupidity.

TWTWTW

We used to play TV tag - "it" would think of the initials of a TV show and couldn't be chased until someone came up with the name of the show that went with the initials. Although I never saw the show, "That Was The Week That Was" was a favorite TV tag show.

This past week has been a whirlwind tour. I got to go to the Utah Dental Convention. In the process, I got to visit with Carebear's Cub Scout Den about the "good old days" of Cub Scouting... some of the things that have changed (I earned Wolf, Bear, Lion and Webelos, which has as it's badge the Arrow of Light - they earn Wolf, Bear, Webelos and Arrow of Light; Our Cub Scout Promise included "I promise... to be square" - they promise to help other people).

I got to eat dinner at The Roof, a restaurant in the Joseph Smith Building overlooking the Salt Lake Temple (and got to renew friendships with Utah dentists, insurers, and supporting staff).

I was startled to see that the speaker at the Team Recognition Luncheon (the gala affair to recognize dental staff and recognize dental achievements) was the father of a former member of my ward.

I got to see Cindy, who works concessions, and specifically requests this event so that we can have a chance to see each other. And... as a bonus, she had Shelly bake cookies... which were not only delicious, but were lunch. Who says we don't eat well when we're on the road?

And, I got to play "Ticket To Ride" along with a dinner treat of yeeros. (And I got to win, although it was close... I was surprised that Sukie just let me waltz through the board and build the longest train. I guess we need a rematch.

New Festiva Speedometer

As the speedometer cable for the Festiva slowly wears out - after 257,000 miles, I suppose it's allowed to wear a bit, I see some "interesting" speeds. The speedometer needle bounces around the speed that you're going, with occassional bursts of 75 - 85 mph being reported. Needless to say, it's not good to be have to answer the question "How fast were you going?" with "Somewhere between 35 and 60".

A GPS is a wonderful thing. It not only tells you where you are, but how fast you're getting there. So proudly mounted in the instrument panel cluster of the Festiva is the portable Garmin GPS. And yes, some duct tape was required... picture forthcoming...

My First Scoutmaster

One hundred years ago Boy Scouts of America was founded. A number of years later, I went on my first Scout campout. It was June; my parents took "before" and "after" pictures. I was considerably dirtier after. I remember getting the news as soon as I got home to get cleaned up so that we could drive to Utah - my Grandpa H. had died while I was out camping. Shortly after the camp we moved back to Denver, so I only had one campout with Buffalo Boy Canoe as my Scoutmaster. I think I have / had an autographed picture of him somewhere, but here's one that I found online - - - I'm sure it was taken a few years later:

Buffalo Boy Canoe

Motivational Speaker

We had a "mandatory" staff meeting last week, where we had a three hour session with a motivational speaker. All in all, he was pretty good; some good ideas on setting priorities and goals and positive thinking and all that. Some good stuff that I can use as Bishop in some of my counseling (I could even come up with chapter & verse for some of the things that he was "preaching"), although there's a bit of a translation required to get from New Age psychobabble to LDS doctrine.

The thing that I wonder about is what is it about motivational speakers that they have to be not only enthusiastic, but loud?