Thanksgiving

Thanksgivings will, for me, be forever associated with long road trips to California to play soccer. Or to coach soccer. For the second year in a row, Jasmine and I will be several states apart on this holiday weekend. She in Colorado to show off her belly to her grandparents, and me in San Diego for the Nomads soccer tournament. It is my last such tournament with this group of boys, many of whom I've coached for over four years now. They are good lads...all of them. Last year I made the mistake of walking three of them around Tihijuana for an evening. We only had to reject 5 or 6 offers to go into the topless bars and 5 or 6 more for smoking hash and 10 or 20 for illegal firecrackers and switchblade knives. My first trip to TJ was also on the tale end of a trip to Nomads. My dad drove me and several teammates down in our old red and grey Suburban. We ate the buffet at Ceasar's Palace in Vegas on the way down and on the way home, the transmission dropped somewhere in the high desert between Victorville and Barstow. My Pops had to hitchhike back to Victorville to rent a car while we watched football and ate pizza. Sandwiched in between was a trip across the border, my first of any kind, and I was fascinated. Phil Snyder was our goalkeeper and was literally, not approximately, two feet and 80 lbs bigger than me. He listened to Rush, taught 30 year olds how to play the drums, had a brother in prison, and made me borrow some Andrew Dice Clay tapes that I was afraid to listen because I was fairly innocent then. PhiI smuggled switchblades and M-80's and other contraband back across the border. All I smuggled was a brown stain in my extra mediums from eating tacos and being stuck in traffic for three ours trying to cross. Phil's remarkable maturity in haggling with the street vendors only highlighted the embarassement of a kid who'd just crapped his pants. No matter. I tossed my drawers in the first gas station dumpster we passed and Phil acted like crapping your pants was the norm for a trip down south.

Next time on "Fun California Road Trips" we'll explain the picture of Jasmine and I walking on what we thought at the time was I-80 eastbound but was really just a campground at Lake Tahoe.

La familia Sanchez

Good Sunday

Today was a good day and it started with an extra hour to sleep in and cuddle in bed. We ate a good breakfast and went for a walk-trot around Liberty Park (Arthur is so nice to accompany me on such "workouts", where it takes us 30 minutes to walk-trot 1.5 miles). Our walk was especially nice because the weather was beautiful today. The sun was warm but the air a bit crisp. And the dead leaves everywhere smelled so good. Perfect for a walk. We then came home and started cleaning the house (which we usually don't have time to do on Saturdays because of soccer-now the season is officially over-sadly, Arthur's boys lost in the final yesterday) and made some good soup before we had to leave to the airport. I just got home and Arthur is probably boarding a plane to LA right now.
It was mostly a good day because I spent it with Arthur. I've been thinking about the fact that he and I only have a few weekends left of just us and to be honest, it makes me a little sad. I feel bad for having such a selfish thought but I think the more general idea behind it is that I'm really starting to realize that things are just going to be so different. Arthur is so reassurring and says that it'll still be us but better. I know he's right, and in all truth, I really can't wait to be a parent with him. We have had a great four and a half years of it being just us and now we're ready to have Astrid.

Hip hop head

Black Steel In The Hour Of Chaos

I got a letter from the government
The other day
I opened and read it
It said they were suckers
They wanted me for their army or whatever
Picture me given' a damn - I said never
Here is a land that never gave a damn
About a brother like me and myself
Because they never did
I wasn't wit' it, but just that very minute...
It occured to me
The suckers had authority
Cold sweatin' as I dwell in my cell
How long has it been?
They got me sittin' in the state pen
I gotta get out - but that thought was thought before
I contemplated a plan on the cell floor
I'm not a fugitive on the run
But a brother like me begun - to be another one
Public enemy servin' time - they drew the line y'all
To criticize me some crime - never the less
They could not understand that I'm a Black man
And I could never be a veteran
On the strength, the situation's unreal
I got a raw deal, so I'm goin' for the steel

They got me rottin' in the time that I'm servin'
Tellin' you what happened the same time they're throwin'
4 of us packed in a cell like slaves - oh well
The same motherfucker got us livin' is his hell
You have to realize - what its a form of slavery
Organized under a swarm of devils
Straight up - word'em up on the level
The reasons are several, most of them federal
Here is my plan anyway and I say
I got gusto, but only some I can trust - yo
Some do a bid from 1 to 10
And I never did, and plus I never been
I'm on a tier where no tears should ever fall
Cell block and locked - I never clock it y'all
'Cause time and time again time
They got me servin' to those and to them
I'm not a citizen
But ever when I catch a C-O
Sleepin' on the job - my plan is on go-ahead
On the strength, I'ma tell you the deal
I got nothin' to lose
'Cause I'm goin' for the steel

You know I caught a C-O
Fallin' asleep on death row
I grabbed his gun - then he did what I said so
And everyman's got served
Along with the time they served
Decency was deserved
To understand my demands
I gave a warnin' - I wanted the governor, y'all
And plus the warden to know
That I was innocent -
Because I'm militant
Posing a threat, you bet it's fuckin' up the government
My plan said I had to get out and break north
Just like with Oliver's neck
I had to get off - my boys had the feds in check
They couldn't do nuthin'
We had a force to instigate a prison riot
This is what it takes for peace
So I just took the piece
Black for Black inside time to cut the leash
Freedom to get out - to the ghetto - no sell out
6 C-Os we got we ought to put their head out
But I'll give 'em a chance, cause I'm civilized
As for the rest of the world, they can't realize
A cell is hell - I'm a rebel so I rebel
Between bars, got me thinkin' like an animal
Got a woman C-O to call me a copter
She tried to get away, and I popped her
Twice, right
Now who wanna get nice?
I had 6 C-Os, now it's 5 to go
And I'm serious - call me delirious
But I'm still a captive
I gotta rap this
Time to break as time grows intense
I got the steel in my right hand
Now I'm lookin' for the fence

I ventured into the courtyard
Followed by 52 brothers
Bruised, battered, and scarred but hard
Goin' out with a bang
Ready to bang out
But power from the sky
And from the tower shots rang out
A high number of dose - yes
And some came close
Figure I trigger my steel
Stand and hold my post
This is what I mean - an anti-nigger machine
If I come out alive and then they won't - come clean
And then I threw up my steel bullets - flew up
Blew up, who shot...
What, who, the bazooka was who
And to my rescue, it was the S1Ws
Secured my getaway, so I just gotaway
The joint broke, from the black smoke
Then they saw it was rougher thatn the average bluffer
'Cause the steel was black, the attitude exact
Now the chase is on tellin' you to c'mon
53 brothers on the run, and we are gone

32 weeks

This picture was actually taken about a week ago, so I wasn't quite 32 weeks yet. But as you can see, we're growing!

Arthur will be posting soon about his adventures with Flava Flave (sp? Rebecca, what's "flava") and Chuck D this past weekend.

Blogging is part of my infinite nature

It was unseasonably warm today and the warmth radiating off the glass of the car, combined with the music of Eddy Vedder's first solo album (the soundtrack to Into the Wild) put me in a reflective mood. The weather was resisting change, still clinging to a fragment of summer, but one could also sense the hopelessness of the last days of warm weather, knowing that they must give way to the cold and snow of winter sooner or later. It was more sad than noble...the weather not wanting to succumb, but knowing it must...everything on the cusp. Our lives are on the cusp, constantly oscillating (in temperament and thought, if not physical circumstance) between known and unknown, complacency and adventure, domestication and wildness. Herman Hesse writes in Steppenwolf that in order to find ones' true self (to be born new and free) one must destroy the world she currently inhabits, including all habits, conceptions, biases, paradigms. There is probably something liberating about destroying all our notions of the world. But the real dilemma is how to implement or live the new paradigm once the epiphany has occurred. Like autumn hanging onto summer before giving way to winter, we grasp pathetically at what we know and lack the courage to plunge into a new way of life, perhaps because we sense that it will be cold and snowy, dark and lonely. How long will it take Astrid to form a sense of the world and her place in it? How long till she is able to destroy it and replace it with another? Will she be able to act on her new vision? Will that vision have to be destroyed as well? How often must we shed the warmth of a summer world for the stinging cold of winter? This year, my winter shall take on new meaning, new poignancy, and new life...afterall, I bought myself a new set of twin tip, all mountain skis from Blue House...that and we are having a baby.

I'm back

Life has been busy and painful lately. I'm just trying to make it through 4 more weeks of work...
My pelvic bones have been doing a great job of preparing for delivering a baby and I'm feeling it. Rebecca, is the same happening to you? I keep telling Arthur that anything I said about how easy pregnancy is during the second trimester should be disregarded.
On a better note, Astrid is such a maniac and moves so much. I love it. I think that's what I'll miss most about being pregnant. Arthur continues to expose her to the writings of Borges, Neruda, Rilke and Hopkins and the songs of Woody Guthrie and Pink Floyd. Being pregnant with Arthur has been one of the most fun things I've ever done. Only two months left and I'm starting to realize that that's no time at all. How crazy.

This weekend the Salt Lake Tribune wrote a piece on Will's Mormon Worker. Here is the site for everyone to check out.