Wednesday, May 28, 2008

Where have I been?

I'll tell you where I've been! I've been on a cruise, I've been shooting guns, I've been finding trilobites, and so much more (naps).

I will share these things on this blog. But for right now, let me share a thought I just had. We all know that Benjamin Franklin tied a key to a kite string and flew it into the lightning storm. I don't know why he did that. Was it to prove the existance of lightning? Was it to prove that keys can glow? That seems like a silly thing to waste one's time on.

All I'm saying is that it seems like some of the facts behind that story have been lost with time, and I want them back. If you know something I don't here, please, fill me in.

Monday, March 31, 2008

A thought...

Sometimes work isn't all that fun.

Monday, March 24, 2008

Abandoned mines: Dangerous, or misunderstood?

Abandoned mines are fascinating. The older the better. Ones with old rail tracks still sticking out of them, or perhaps a prospector skeleton, complete with large brimmed hat and rusted pick still in hand. Mines nowadays lack the dignity of old-timesy mines. Any moron with a bazillion dollars in investment capital can strip mine. But to dig down and wrestle the goods from the planet in all-out battle to the death, now that's nifty.

Anyway, I recently visited a near-by mine located near Bells Canyon named "The Deaf-Smith" mine, a name I suspect holds it's origins with the the fact that the mine was started by a Deaf man named Smith at some point in the last century. It didn't have any wooden beams or decomposing prospectors, but still had that old western-y feel to it. Apparently Mr. Smith spent a good portion of his life digging that mine into solid rock, which stretched at least 100 feet into the dark. The mine obviously didn't hold anything too awesome because no one has ever heard of Mr. Smith since. Actually, no one really knows what he was mining for. There aren't any other producing mines in the area, nor the geology to indicate that rare metals are present. So perhaps Mr. Smith was mining for nothing other than the pure love of mining. Anyway, Kudoes to Mr. Smith and his amazing rock-mine.

Now mimes on the other hand scare the quartz out of me. I would rather wonder around an abandoned mine than meet up with an active mime.

Tuesday, March 18, 2008

A great, underappreciated pun

I was in the shower the other night and I came up with this great pun about Gengis Kahn. I don't remember it exactly, but I do remember that it had something to do with Gengis Kahn mailing out fraudulent coupons that promised great deals on helmets if someone would open the gates on the Great Wall of China. Then, as the mongol hords were running amok in China, the guy who opened the gates said to himself, "I've been Gengis Conned!"

Not really a pun I guess. Some would say that it isn't really even that funny. Those people have been Gengis Conned.

Monday, February 25, 2008

A brief de-railment

Before I finish my amazing tale of Evanston adventure, I'm going to share the best thing I've ever done with my life to date.


Will a paper areo-plane fly more efficently with two bottle-rockets attached?

It certainly seems like it would. And seeing how I have yet to have a bad idea, I decided to try it.

Things immediately took a turn for the worst. First and foremost, it is very difficult to ensure that BOTH bottle-rocket devices fire at the same time. If one bottle rocket fires first, then the plane only has half it's potential power, plus it kinda flys all crazy like. I guess that's why they don't have two big fuses underneath the space shuttle. Finally, in my blind zeal to scratch the eyes of the heavens, I forgot that the flight of bottle-rockets is ended with a energetic explosion. If one bottle-rocket explodes while the other is still spitting on gravity's blowse, then the whole flight pattern is thrown off. Anyway, we only got 10 feet or so.

Also, it turns out that fire is bad for paper. It makes it all crunchy, like really old crunch berries.

It seemed like maybe I could minimze the effects of ill-timed bottle-rocket fireings by ensureing that the plane was already in the air when the rocket went off. That way no matter when the rocket went off, it would simply power the plane to new and better places. So I decided to try again.

This time planning to light the bottle-rockets, then throw the plane so it's already in the air when the gunpowder party kicks up. As for the exposive end, I figured that the bottle rockets would probably explode with just the right amount of energy as to simply detach from the plane, allowing it to glide gently back to the surface after a good 45 minute flight from an elevation of 700 feet. Anyway, again things went immediately wrong. I can't really put words to what happened. Something exploded too early, then there were problems with areodynamicy, plus I burnt my hand. Anyway, we got 20 feet or so, but most of that was just from me throwing the stupid thing.

Again, there was significant damage to the plane.

I again suspect that fire is the culpret of the strange black markings all over the plane. Either that or it is a small portion of outter space that got caught on my plane from it's epic journey.
So, in short, the answer is no. Attaching bottle rockets to a paper plane will not help it fly more efficently. At least not in the configuration in which my plane was set up. Undaunted, several new flight plans have been created. I will tell you how it works out. I suspect that NASA will be seeing a small, brave paper plane flying past Uranus (heh) in no time.

Monday, February 18, 2008

Living the dream

Living the dream. What does it mean? Having money? Power? A sizeable collection of highly articulated action figures? Multiple bosom-y wives? The truth of the matter is that it means something different to each of us. For the longest time I couldn't figure out what it meant to me. I wandered through life with no money, power, and only a moderate-sized collection of highly articulated action figures and nary a bosom-y wife in sight. It was depressing, not having a dream to live. Then, last week, I visited Evanston.....

A little back story. At some point last week, let's say wednesday, one of my roommates and I were watching an episode of Scrubs, in which Carla finally accepts Turks wedding proposal. See below for details....

After Carla accepts Turks proposal, J.D. runs out with sparklers and proceeds to jog in little circles around the minority-rich couple. That got me thinking. I need sparklers to run around with. Also I wanted some bottle rockets. The problem is that no one around these Utah parts is willing to sell me fireworks at this time of year. Apparently Utahns are too good for running around with sparklers in the dead of winter. So I thought to myself, where can I turn for piece ('s of illegal fireworks)? Then the answer came to me as if I always knew it. Of course! Evanston! I had never been there, but the legend has it that you can buy mighty fireworks there at any time of the year! ANY TIME OF THE YEAR!!!! What a thing! And so a group of us load up into a car, and head for the final frontier of illegal fireworks.

(That's me heading towards the car)

We took the freeway, as was the style at the time.

As we passed the ol' Super 8 Hotel I realized that it was right across from a Motel 6. I had never noticed this before. What did these numbers refer to? Was it some sort of unknown Hotel rating system? I simply didn't know. All we can be sure of is that the Super 8 is two better than the Motel 6. Also, I didn't like the Super 8 Hotel's sign. It just said "ROOMS". Yes, we know there are rooms. We may not understand your secret rating system, but we figured out that your hotel probably has rooms. If it didn't then you probably would be far lower on the rating scale. Like maybe a Super 2 Hotel, where all you would have is an umbrella sitting next to a broken ice machine. Anyway. I figured that their meeting went something like this....

Boss of Super 8 - "Gentlemen, we need a catchy new slogan for our new yellow and orange sign"

*awkward pause*

Guy #4 - "We could have it say, like, rooms, but in all capital letters. Like, really bold."

Boss of Super 8 - "Fine, go with it".

But it also reflects badly on me that I was spending so much time mocking a second-rate hotel sign. Let's move on. We pick up a few more adventurers and head for the land where food is still call "grub". A place where time seems to move a little slower, a place where the women could shuck an ear of corn with one hand. You get the idea. Here, I will give you a picture so you can see what it was like to be there.

Now, it's well known that the first thing a person needs to find in order to sucessfully complete a road trip is a variety of snacks that fit in with the overall theme of the road trip. Having only one stop at a local gas-atoriumin which to find these all-important snacks, my choices were very limited. But if you endure to the end you will find that which you seek, and here is the fruit of my endurance-seeking.....

I don't know what those are. Something.

Then there were other snacks...

But I didn't take pictures of those. Most importantly, there was this....

My other roommate was actually the one who found this, but I bought it. Not only does it fit in with the western-y theme of the trip, but I do a great prospector impression. At least I think it's great. I call him Supermarket Claimjumper. Anyway, I was waaaayyy stoked when I found this. At last Mtn. Dew has found a way to be X-treme enough for me. The guy at the counter was a total bring-down, and told me that it was just regular Mtn. Dew inside. It wasn't a special new dew. I know that! Other than Root Beer, there is no other cola that should have a prospector on the can! "Dr. Pepper! A tasty prospect!" just sounds stupid. "Coca Cola! Pan for one in a river", is stupid too. "Pepsi! You've got fool's gold there fella!" is the stupid-est one yet.

Let's move on. Now that we had the proper snacks, it was time to get on the road.

Still driving....

45 more minutes....

Hooray!!! (That's the Wyoming state line in the upper portion of that picture).

Wanna see it again, but a little more X-treme (blurry?)

Yes, at long last we had arrived at Evanston. Ah, if only I could find the right words to describe my joy. Traztor? Grapple? Zango? No, none of those really embody what I'm looking for. Ah well. Let's move on.

he first thing I wanted to find was a huge bag of fireworks. Bottle-rockets, snap-poppers, air-fizzers, ground-squirmers, I wanted it all. Would Evanston live up to it's reputation? Could these wonderful fireworks be found here, or had I wasted a good 1.5 hours? Well, had I had the presence of mind to take some pictures, you would all know that there were plenty of places to find fireworks. Nearly half the stores in Evanston appeared to be firework related. Most of the others were places where mature, adult couples could purchase videos of a blue nature. BUT that's not what I was looking for. I just wanted the fireworks that go into the sky. Lucky to us we passed Jolly Jacks Fireworks World (JJFW). Now, like I said, I failed to take any pictures of this amazing place. I think I just got too excited and lost my focus, such was the magnificance of this Fireworks display. They had everything! These gunpowder dreams were a sight to behold. Then there was Jolly Jack....

Jolly Jack wasn't very jolly, but I guess Jolly Jack sounds better than Generally Indifferent Jack. Or even Slighly-Suspicious Jack. I got the feeling that Jolly Jack didn't care for shop-lifters. He trailed us everywhere we went, sometimes offering advice about fireworks, other times he just glared at us. After having wandered around this shrine to the explosive, I filled my bag and went to make my purchase. Jolly Jack rang me up, and I handed him my credit card. Then he asked for my I.D. I was terrified! I was from Utah! Some of these fireworks are not fully legal!!!

But it turns out Jolly Jack didn't care at all. I think he just wanted to make the sale. Anyway, look at all the booty I got! Yarrr!!!

Alright, next, we headed for downtown Evanston. Where dreams are made. I'll post that later.

Monday, February 4, 2008

Another Blog

Look at you. Sitting there, acting like you're so important with your big fancy chair and working cell phone. You think you deserve to know the influential and um, neat, thoughts that are swimming around in my head, like little trouts of inspiration? Well, fine. I will start a blog so that you all can enjoy whatever it is that I impart.

As for little back story let's go over that basics. I am a dirt engineer in training. The official term for what I do is "geotechnical engineering" and dropping that at parties usually gets me some of the ladies. Sweet. I went to the University of Utah for like a billion years, paid a goodly sum in tuition, really liked this girl who ended up married to some other dude who wore eyeshadow, and then I bought a Honda which I still drive to this day. I am single, have a full head of hair, and an elbow that hurts whenever a storm moves in. I'm really proud of that elbow. I was born in Holladay, Utah and have lived in Murray and Sandy, Utah. That's a fancy way of saying that I've lived in three different places in Salt Lake City Utah. It's all the same place really. I currently reside in White City, Utah, which is an entertaining neighborhood that is located right in the gut of sandy. It's not part of Sandy, mind you, it's it own little city deal. They have a city pool that gave a couple of people ringworm once. Or something like that. Anyway, great place.

But enough about me. Let's move on and try to figure this blog dealy out. I'm assuming that there is a spell checker somewhere around here.....