How do you save daylight, anyway?

I'm usually good at sleeping; I guess I'm lucky like that. It frustrates the hell out of me when I have trouble falling asleep or when I wake up every hour on the hour for 5 hours until I can't sleep anymore. But like I said, such occasions are rare.

So it's on these occasions that my thoughts turn to the people I work with - people who have been homeless for a good portion of their lives. They don't sleep. For many of them, they've never been able to because sleeping means nightmares about past trauma. Or they simply can't stop their brains from churning through thought after thought after thought. Or they learned the behavior while living on the street (how are you supposed to sleep when it's 15 degrees outside, you have to maintain constant vigilance to avoid being robbed of the few possessions you have, or you're in a shelter with 200 other people you neither know nor trust?)

It's these thoughts that have led me to theorize about mental illness. If sleeping is what reboots our brains, enabling us to better solve problems and process past events, then doesn't it make sense to say that a lack of sleep contributes to mental illness? I mean, everyone goes through shit. Some way worse than others (for some fucked up reason). But the ability to cope doesn't follow the extent of trauma perfectly. That is, some people who have seen hell are inexplicably well-adjusted, while others who have led relatively stable lives can't live with themselves.

Of course there's no simple explanation for what causes mental illness and there are definitely many contributing factors. But to this point I guess I've looked at the sleep thing the other way around, where those who are mentally ill don't sleep. But I think it's possible that those who don't sleep can be more susceptible to depression, anxiety, etc. Maybe even psychotic disorders? Who knows, really? It would at least partially explain the variance in people's abilities to adapt, so I think it's worth considering. (Most likely this theory has been thoroughly researched and studied already, but I don't give a shit, ok? Get off my back already. It's like when I invented the Knork in 5th grade and then I saw it on an infomercial 2 years ago. But even in the 5th grade I realized the inevitable problem of cutting yourself when the side of your fork is a knife.)

Anyway, why I'm even writing about this is I lost one of my insomniac friends last night. She was extremely well-liked throughout the homeless community because, despite everything she had gone through, she was still personable and caring. She was 41. And I can't help but wonder if she had ever been able to get some truly peaceful rest like I enjoy every night, whether she'd still be alive.

Here's to hoping that wherever she is, she's sleeping contentedly. Goodbye, Steph.

Heaven & Hell

At dinner with some friends the other night, we stumbled upon the topic of religion, specifically the afterlife. Considering that 3 of the 4 of us at the table were Formons (and the other grew up in Utah as an Episcopalian), this scenario was perhaps inevitable, even without the aid of intoxication.

So off we went, primarily evaluating the Mormon concept of Heaven and such. Here was my thought process:

1. Mormons believe you have to accept Mormonism (and do a bunch of other stuff) to be in their version of Heaven.

2. If Heaven is full of Mormons, we can assume it will be similar to a place on Earth that's full of Mormons.

3. Utah County is full of Mormons.

4. Therefore, it's likely that Mormon Heaven will be similar to Utah County.

5. Utah County is my personal Hell.

6. Mormon Heaven = my personal Hell

The most persuasive missionary in the world couldn't convince me to spend eternity driving an SUV from the MLM company where I work to the big box stores and chain restaurants I have to patronize.

I did what?

So my nephew posted the following on Facebook:

"Joseph Moore wonders why all of his text books are completely in English, but in the glossary they have both spanish and english terms. (no racism intended)"

Good point. Maybe they just printed the same glossary for both the English and Spanish versions. Who knows? But here's what his friend posted in reply:

"Too many people who cant speak english in our country (a little racisim intended)."

OK, so a 14-year-old kid has an ignorant point of view. Who cares?

For some reason I can't explain, I do. I felt compelled to respond to this post and lecture this kid on intolerance and how arbitrary it is to presume any sort of superiority based on the language you were raised to speak. Will he make fun of me? Yes, definitely. Will he actually think about what I said? No, definitely not.

But I couldn't help it. I get so worked up and frustrated whenever I see/hear such blatantly ridiculous and hurtful things, no matter what the source. I have no problem with opposing points of view, but not when those points of view are completely bigoted and/or unfounded.

"You're being intolerant of intolerance and therefore completely contradicting yourself" Fox News would say. True. Promoting tolerance means we must accept EVERYTHING, including child molestation, incest, etc. All or nothing. God or Satan. Black or white.

Otherwise we're simply lost souls, with no moral directive. I, for one, am just waiting to find out my next move. Who knows, maybe it will be to start up another argument with a 9th grader.

Genealogy - I am doing it?

I've been telling people for years that my great-great-great (or something like that) grandfather started the Salt Lake Tribune. I remember learning that when I was a kid, but I've never seen any solid evidence.

Then the other day there was an article in the Trib about the paper's history and it mentioned "Godbeites". My ancestor's name was William S. Godbe, so I did some tedious and painstaking research into the matter. I found this article on Wikipedia about Godbeites and this one about Godbe himself.

To those of you not in my family: I know it's boring to read about other people's heritage. But I found this fairly interesting as Godbe was a former Mormon who had major political differences with the church and used writing as his avenue of expression.

I doubt he was as good an artist as I am though.

Berth Day

I've done a lot of thinking. What has come of it? Not much. Besides a blog, of course. But this "thinking" I've done specifically pertains to a certain day of significance (according to most others besides me).

Here's the thing about my birthday, and birthdays in general: Who gives a shit?

OK, so a few people probably give some moderate-to-gigantic-sized shits about the celebration of the day I was born.

But to me it's another day. I don't really care about other people's birthdays, so I don't expect anyone to care about mine. Simple as that. Is it selfish? Perhaps. Or does it just make sense because, by definition, we were all born...and the annually-occurring calendar day that marks our chronological progression is less relevant to our lives than every other day in the year? Am I right?

I know lots of people like to have a day that's all about them (and I'm not judging those people), but for me I don't like recognition for things I had nothing to do with. If your response to that is, "Well, you made it this far", you're just insulting the dead. Shame on you. And if your response is, "Well, you should throw a party for your parents then", you're asking too much from me. I love my parents, but I hate throwing parties.

Lindsay's family (who is unrelentingly awesome to me) wanted to throw me a birthday dinner, but I didn't want one. I was totally fine with a family dinner, but I didn't want to be the "main event" or "special guest" or whatever. So, I asked Lindsay to let her family know that I didn't want presents, cake, or any special recognition. It ended up working against me somewhat in that by NOT wanting to make a big deal of it, it sort of became a big deal. See, her family is big on birthdays and mine isn't. Simply a difference of upbringing.

While I'm engaging in this stream of consciousness, I'll say this:

Is it just me, or does receiving a birthday card/check in the mail from your grandma make you feel like such a kid? And receiving a birthday card/check in the mail from your parents make you feel like such an adult?

So to say the least, I'm not sure how to proceed. One thing's for sure: I won't refuse a delicious BBQ dinner, no matter what the occassion. If you want to kill a pig in my name, god bless you in your efforts.

Wannabe TV critic? Nah, just bitter old Jake.

Did you watch Conan O'Brian on his Tonight Show debut last night? I did. On the plus side: Jay Leno is off TV--for now (I've heard he'll have his own show again in the fall). Besides that, not much to be excited about.

Let me explain.

So, I like Conan alright. He can be pretty funny and he used to have some pretty cool musical guests on his old show--sometimes relatively "underground" bands, at least compared to your average late night talkshow guests.

He definitely has his annoying quirks, like pointing out RANDOM things and sticking to the standard monologue bullshit routine where he references current events and makes a wisecrack that usually fails to be clever/original. Who knows how much of that is really him and how much is just the writers sticking to what has traditionally worked? I sure don't, but it still makes for shit TV.

Anyway, his "new show" brought something that his old show lacked (but lacked in a good way): a HILARIOUS sidekick/joke partner. I absolutely hate the additions those Paul Shaffers and Kevin Eubankses try to make. Conan had it right before when Max Weinberg wasn't given a mic. Who the hell cares what the lead musician has to say?

Well, Conan now has ANDY RICHTER (how's the CAPS LOCK for sarcastic emphasis working for me?) to laugh obnoxiously into the microphone after every joke. The worst part is, Andy doesn't do anything else. His sole purpose is to be that annoying asshole that detracts from just about every late night show ever made.

And finally, his first guests were Will Ferrell, who has decided to stick to a life of shit films where he acts TOTALLY WACKY, gets chased, falls down, etc etc...and Pearl Jam. I just looked at the listing for tonight and it says he's having Green Day perform (Why do people still listen to Green Day?)

All this sent a clear message to me that although it's still Conan, the show will continue forward L.A.-style, which just won't do it for me. I'll just stick to my usual progrems.

Taco Taco

Is it just me, or is walking into Taco Bell like stepping into a parallel universe? The food isn't Mexican, American, or even Mexican-American as far as I'm concerned. Once you get past the standard taco and burrito on the menu, you start wandering into a previously unimaginable world of culinary combinations.

Then there's the layout, the color scheme, decor, window signs, etc. Unlike most other fast food places, I couldn't differentiate 1 Taco Bell from another from the inside if I tried. I think after walking through those double-doors and past the candy machines and bathroom down the hall, your mind is wiped clean of anything on the outside. Suddenly you've entered a world where Mountain Dew tastes good and nacho cheese comes on a taco...or burrito...or "chalupa"...or a thousand other things I'm sure.

But what really gives me the willies is the employees.

Taco Bell has an uncanny way of attracting some of Earth's strangest inhabitants to work there. Inevitably the person who takes your order will either be the world's biggest fan of Insane Clown Posse or too short/old to operate the cash register.

Today I went there and the lady who helped me looked like this:




She was really nice and all, but each thing I ordered she repeated back to me like I was in the drive-thru.

Me: "I'll have a grilled chicken burrito."
Her: "ONE...CHICKEN....BURRITO" ( as she touches the screen)
Me: "Yeah, and a cheesy gordita crunch."
Her: "ONE....GORDITA....CRUNCH."
Me: "Yep. And a small drink."
Her: "ONE...SMALL...DRINK. IS THAT ALL?"
Me: "Yeah that's it."
Her: "OK WE HAVE ONE...CHICKEN...BURRITO, ONE...GORDITA...CRUNCH, ONE...SMALL...DRINK. YOUR TOTAL IS $4.82."

I used to work across the street from a Taco Bell and I'd go there just about every day for lunch. The girl who was usually behind the counter would always give me a free drink and a senior discount, and sometimes (if I was lucky) the entire meal free. That doesn't really support my theory, just an interesting anecdote while I'm thinking about Taco Bell.