Book Review - Where Men Win Glory

Probably not too many people have heard of this book, Where Men Win Glory. Many of you will probably however recognize the name in the subtitle: "The Odyssey of Pat Tillman". Some will know him from football. I know that I first heard of him when he was playing linebacker at ASU. Then I knew him as a safety for the Arizona Cardinals, the professional football team of Arizona. Most who don't follow football however will recognize him for being the football player who turned down millions of dollars playing football to enlist in the Army shortly after the 9/11 attacks.

Jon Krakauer, famous for his book "Into Thin Air" about the Mt. Everest disaster, takes on the story of Pat Tillman in this recent publication (2009). It tells of Pat's background and gives a fairly good picture of the kind of person that he was. The life experiences shared do a good job of explaining why he wanted to put away football, for a few seasons, and go fight for his country. I thought that it was funny that it described many of Pat's Mormon friends who got in a big fight due to their intoxication. Some of the Mormons described weren't drunk but were planning on getting drunk. Anyways, that fight was a turning point in Pat's life.

The book also taught me many many interesting aspects of Afghanistan's history and political troubles that I had never even heard of. Things like how the CIA had given millions of dollars in cash and training to Muslim insurgents while they were fighting off a Russian invasion. This is how many of the Taliban leaders became leaders. Now we all know how these extremists feel about the US. I know probably 30 times more than I previously knew about the state of life, politics, and terror plots in Afghanistan.

The main subject of the book, however, is the death of Tillman by friendly fire, and the Army's apparent attempt to mask the truth of his death, whether intentional or unintentional. It's really sad that in war, even with modern technology and extensive training, friendly fire deaths are still a real threat to the lives of a soldier. That people must die is a sad fact, but friendly fire just seems even more depressing.

I absolutely loved this book. I could hardly put it down just because it mixed sports and interesting politics and current events. (We all know that I'm a ..... "Sports Fan". Right, Dave?) But the things I didn't like were: 1. There is a bit of swearing, because Krakauer uses lots of quotes and he's quoting soldiers. 2. He talks a lot about the government deliberately misleading the public, presenting it as if it is the "norm". I like to think that the government normally acts honestly, with dishonesty being the exception. It definitely seems that in the case of Tillman though that some misleading information was given both to the family and the public, for the purpose of selling a "good image" to the American public.

Read the book and decide for yourself.

Book Review - We Might As Well Win

I went out and bought this book shortly after Christmas with some Christmas money. It is written by Johann Bruyneel, Lance Armstrong's cycling coach and coach of Alberto Contador another two time Tour de France champion. It was written after he had "retired" from coaching, kind of like Brett Favre retiring from football. At the time he had coached 8 Tour de France champions, Lance 7 times and Alberto once. Since then Alberto has won again and Lance has un-retired and recruited Bruyneel to coach his new team, Team Radioshack.

The book basically details several of Bruyneel's experiences through life and how they helped him to become a winner. He talks at length about what he has learned from winning and what he has learned from losing. These experiences combined to make him stronger for future victories. From a motivational standpoint, it's really kind of ho-hum, making points that I thought were pretty obvious to most people. But he does show how much winning is more a state of mind than a point in time or the luck of the draw.

What I really liked about the book is the countless stories that he uses to illustrate his points. (Ok, I could count them, but I'm not going to) In each chapter, he uses at least one example from either his racing days or his coaching days to illustrate the particular point that he's trying to make. The stories he tells are funny, interesting, and amazing. If you don't know really how pro cycling works or what the method to the madness is, you will by the end of this book because Bruyneel does a good job of explaining it in an interesting way.

So basically this book is a book full of cycling stories, and a very quick read. I normally rate books on a 3 point scale, so I would give this one a 2/3 because I enjoy the subject. For non-cycling fans, I think it may be interesting just because it explains how the sport works by the means of great story telling.

A Few Things I Know About Calvin

1. He loves his mommy.
2. He likes music. (This gives me an excuse to sing my favorite songs out loud to him)
3. He stops crying when you hold him up in the air.
4. He loves to look at the picture of the temple and our wedding on the wall.
5. He doesn't like taking his bath.
6. He's the best high rainbow arc over-the-head pee-er I've ever seen.
7. He doesn't like getting his diaper changed.
8. His hands get cold easily.
9. He's pretty tough. (Minimal crying at the doctor's office when he got his shot, and minor surgery)
10. His hair gets pretty greasy.(But I think that's also due to Shanna always touching his head)

Anyone Want To Go?

This past week, I've had the urge to go outside and do something. Maybe it's the winter blues or maybe it's due to the fact that I normally spend 8-12 hours a day holed up in a campus basement working on computers. I really wanted to go out and go somewhere or do something that would be memorable.

I remembered hearing about and seeing pictures of a rock formation in Arizona called "The Wave". Once you see it, you kind of understand how it got the name. Anyways, I decided that I really want to go hike out to The Wave sometime.


The only problem with going is that the Bureau of Land Management, in an effort to preserve the formation, only allow 20 people per day to go out to the formation. It's all controlled by permits. You can apply for a permit for a specific date, but to get one, you have to win the "lottery" for the permit. Turns out that there are usually about 100-150 people who apply for a permit on any given day. 10 permits are given away in advance and 10 are given away the day before in a lottery style giveaway. So chances for getting a permit online are about 10 percent and getting one the day before just depends on the day and how many people show up.

I'm hoping to get a permit sometime this year, late summer, early fall. Sometime before school starts I guess, so more likely late summer. Anyone want to go? The largest permit you can apply for is 6 people. It's about a 1-2 hour hike in to the wave, then there are places called "Hamburger Rock" and "The Wave 2" that are in the general area also. It's pretty much just a day hike, but it's right near the Utah-Arizona border, so it'll more likely than not take 2 days. (1 traveling and 1 hiking) Anyways, let me know if you want to come so that I can get in touch with you to get this thing planned. See ya later.

Mystery Rebecca

I hope I don't offend, but there is a certain "Rebecca" who comments on my and Shanna's blogs sometimes. We aren't sure which Rebecca that we know to attribute the comments to. Anyone out there in the cyberworld know who it is? Rebecca, if you're reading this, and you aren't a super hero then can you reveal your secret identity?

Socks

I've always loved wearing socks. When I was little, I would rather wear socks around the house than go barefoot. I also would rather wear socks outside than shoes. This probably bothered my mom because I wore them out so quickly. I like to think of myself as a connoisseur of fine socks. My whole mission, people gave me socks for presents. I think that's the standard gift in Korea, because I got a whole lot of them.

I like to always have nice thick socks that don't have holes in them. Once a sock even hints that it could become a transparent mesh of fine string (you know what I'm talking about, right?) I get rid of it or stuff it in the far reaches of the drawer so that there is no possibility of accidentally donning it in a rush. I like to think that if I keep my socks nice, my shoes won't be as stinky.

So, with this background in mind, as Bill Nye the Science Guy would put it, "Consider the Following":

When a new pair of socks is born, it is a clean slate, fresh, unpolluted, and each sock is fairly symmetric about its center line (the line that runs from heel to the gap between your 2nd and 3rd toe, counting from your big toe). However, after one or two times of wearing the sock, it begins to develop a personality of its own. Some socks get dirtier due to rain, mud, sand, etc. The main way in which they distinguish themselves though is by which side of the sock "relaxes" to accommodate the big toe. A difference between a right foot sock and a left foot sock can be evident after just one wearing. This, of course, is almost entirely dependent on which foot you wear the sock on for the first time. So, in order for me to thoroughly enjoy my socks every day, it is imperative that my right socks be grouped with a left sock when they are folded. I can't stand to wear a left foot sock on my right foot because there is tons of space by my littlest piggie while it should be snuggled in tight to the foot by the sock. It is easy to group rights and lefts on church socks and socks with designs on them, but my wife, Shanna, refuses to go through my plain socks and match them up for me when she does the laundry. She simply dumps them all into my drawer as individual socks, which forces me to fish through the drawer each morning until I can catch me a lefty and a righty.

Somebody out there has to have some sympathy for me, right? Or is this something that labels me "strange"?

Old Narocut

I've been reading through some family history information that my grandma gave me, and I had the idea to make blog posts that tell some of the stories I've come across. This one is one of my favorites. The story takes place in Grantsville, Utah. It is a story about my great-great-grandmother (I think) Genevieve Wrathall Orr, who is referred to as grandmother in the story.

"One particular warm Sunday afternoon, Grandmother had been left at home to care for Aunt Eva [her sister, I think] who was the baby at that time, the rest of the family being at church, when an old Indian named Narocut knocked at the door. Narocut was known to be very mean, and the children had alwas been told to give him what he wanted, so as not to arouse his anger. Grandma was horrified when she saw him standing there. He started asking for food, which she gave him. She glanced at the clock and noticed that it was almost time for church to be out, for which she was very grateful. The Indian asked for other things, and then he demanded that she give him the baby. Grandmother was terrified but she remembered the counsel her father had given them, and realizing that the Indian couldn't get far before church dismissed, she gave him the baby. He started going West and of course passed by the [church] meeting house. The man who was standing at the pulpit saw old Narocut hurrying down the street with the baby. He notified the people in church, and Grandfather with other men there, hurriedly overtook the Indian and the baby was soon resting safely at home again."

I like the story because it's so foreign to me to think that just an old Indian man would walk up to somebody's house while the parents weren't home and demand to be given a baby. A person who does that today goes to jail. I guess that's something that people just had to deal with in the last 19th century West.

Tour de France Conclusion

Sorry everyone, especially Bruce, for not finishing my coverage of the Tour this year. Seems Bruce thought that a giant UFO came and abducted all of the riders sometime between my last post and the finish of the race, or something like that. But it turns out they did finish. I just thought that nobody was following the posts due to the lack of commenting. Not that you need to comment or anything, but I see a 0 comment sign to mean that nobody is interested in the posts. Anyways,...

Wow, the last post I did was the team time trial...That was like 3 weeks ago at least. Anyway, Contador, the favorite for the race made a breakaway on an uphill mouontain top finish and just burned up to the finish line. This was very soon after the team time trial. That move put him in first place overall. Armstrong didn't get a chance to really challenge him on that though due to the fact that when Contador made his first accelleration, Armstrong was stuck with a slower group and he didn't move up for the reason of giving his teammate an advantage. This initial gap on Armstrong that Contador earned set up the most exciting part of the tour in my mind though. After losing a substantial chuck of time on Contador, Lance made a huge acceleration and charged solo across a gap of abouut 45 seconds. It was amazing. The announcers were going crazy and I was really excited. Armstrong caught up and joined Contador and a few others in the lead group. Then right at the end, Contador made another charge and took the win, but not by too much. Enough to put him in Yellow for the remainder of the tour though. Armstrong made a solo charge across a gap on one other occasion during the race. It was amazing.

In the Alps, the Schleck brothers, Andy and Frank, did as they promised and brought their "A" game. They made attempt after attempt to crack the leader Contador and other challengers, namely Lance Armstrong, Bradley Wiggins, and Andreas Kloden. They succeeded gaining time on all but Contador. Armstrong may have been able to keep up, but again, since his team leader was with them he played the teamwork card and didn't help the other challengers catch back up with Contador. Andy and Frank actually took over 2nd and 3rd place for a day or two. Andy hung on to second place overall and he won the White Jersey, denoting the best young rider in the tour. I think he won it last year too. I'm not sure what age, but the white jersey goes to the top placed rider under 25 or 24 or something.

Armstrong bounced back in the individual time trial and clinched 3rd place overall. Bradley Wiggins of Garmin Slipstream I think got 4th, though he may have only gotten 5th. Wiggins used to be a sprinter in the velodrome. Reigning gold medalist in several events in track racing and he was a big surprise in this years tour. Franco Pellizotti won the Polka Dot Jersey and is the King of the Mountains for 2009, meaning he earned the most points for being the first over the high climbs on each stage. Thor Hushovd won the Green Jersey for Best Sprinter. This seems weird because Columbia's Mark Cavendish won literally every sinlge sprint finish at this years tour. That is an amazing feat. Never was he beaten, and only once this whole year has he failed to win a group bunch sprint. However, he was penalized some points for moving off of his sprinting line in one finish, which blocked another rider from passing him. Hushovd made a daring solo attack to gather up the mid-race sprints on a particularly long and hilly stage, so he does deserve the green.
Well, that's all for this year. Congrats to all of the riders including Beppu who is the first Japanese rider to ever finish the Tour.

Clapping with Myself. (And Another Kid)

This story is dedicated to Isaac Selin, my little bro who's serving a mission right now. Some of you will know why. Others will not. But it's a pretty funny story anyways. Don't worry though Isaac, I'll copy it and send it in an email to you too.

So, on Independence Day we went to the concert on the west lawn of the Capitol Building. Barry Manilow, Aretha Franklin, Sesame Street characters, and other musicians were present. We were seated on the lawn so that the stage was off a little bit to our right side and about 100 yards in front of us. We had to wait out on the lawn for about 5 hours from when we got there until the concert started. I noticed a family sitting in front of us. They had two boys maybe the ages 6 and 9. The real reason I noticed was because the 6 year old had his shirt off and was always complaining and fighting over the umbrella they brought to shade them from the sun. We ignored them, played some games and waited for the concert to start.

About 1/4 of the way through the concert after a song or video or something, I finished my applauding and waited patiently for whatever was to come next. I hadn't noticed the abnoxiously long clapping that was going on...Wait, I get ahead of myself. I didn't hear any clapping that sounded out of the ordinary. But I did hear the 9 year old in front of me turn to his dad and say, "Dad, did you hear that? I was the last one in the whole crowd to clap!" And with that challenge, I proceded to clap once, loudly, and very noticibly so that the kid knew that he was no longer the last one. He stopped talking, looked back to see who did it, turned back facing forward (to hide his anger, embarassment, and fear) and then clapped again.

I clapped again.

(You could tell that he was getting pretty annoyed)

He clapped.

I clapped three times.

He clapped.

I conceded defeat for the time being.

I didn't bother challenging him again for a little while, because I knew that he would be on the lookout for whoever had played that nasty trick on him before. I layed low until about 20 minutes later after the Sesame Street gang had sang their songs. As the applause died down, I looked forward to find the boy. There he was. I could see him preparing his hands to clap as soon as everybody else had stopped. This was my chance.

I'm pleased to say that my applause did not die down with the rest of the crowd. As the silence grew, there was only one sound wafting throug the air. The steady "Clap...Clap...Clap..." of my hands rang to the Capitol and back. "Clap...Clap...Clap..." I continued, seeing the boy still waiting for whoever the morn was that kept on clapping. "Clap...Clap...Clap..." He was really getting worried now. He didn't know what to do. He thought whoever it was would keep clapping through the next song, thus negating his attempts to be the last clap. "Clap...Clap...Clap..." I kept on going. I was determined to win this showdown. I didn't care if I made the kid cry. "Clap...Clap...Clap..." I wasn't paying attention to all of the other spectators who were turning their heads my way. This was none of their business. Between you, little kid, and me.

"Clap...Clap...Clap.."

I would've gone all night if I had to. Unfortunately, my wife stopped me. And sure enough, as soon as I stopped, he clapped, and that was it. Best two out of three. I got beat in a clapping contest by a 9 year-old. To him there is only one thing I want to say,...

"Good Form Jack! Good Form!"

I Must Have OCD

So I normally do these little things like count the number of steps in each staircase I ever walk on and keep my school books stacked smallest to tallest on my desk. You know, I'm very certain about the way some things should be done. I just found another thing that I've begun doing.

I look at license plates and try to find patterns in them. Over the past few days, I've been noticing myself looking at every license plate I pass while I walk Shanna to and from the bus stop every morning. Today I found something interesting, at least to me. Out of 74 license plates that I was able to look at and read, 67 of them featured either the letter X, K(which looks awfully similar to X), or J. So that's about 90.5% of the cars on my street with a Virginia license plate. The pattern only occurs on Virginia license plates. If I included all of the Massachusetts, Maryland, and New York plates, the percentage would go way down. So, if you move to Alexandria, VA and get license plates, 9 out of 10 times, the plates will have an X, K, or J on it. I think this post solidifies my status as nerd.