The best laid plans of mice and Hogs
It was a simple plan, wake up at the crack of dawn, head down to San Diego on my Motorcycle, then up highway 1 with beautiful California weather to visit the family.
It started out with me waking up late and hopping on my motorcycle forgetting my camera, a jacket or any other things I would need. About an hour into my drive I realized I was driving through a desert, and it was pretty hot. I started to get a little worried about sun burn so I’d stop at a store and get some sunblock and something to cover my arms. Oh yeah I was in the middle of the desert. As I neared San Diego I was pretty sure I was pretty burnt. Then the heavy winds started trying to blow me off my bike. That was fun. I also had a headache from an ill fitting helmet but couldn’t take it off since I had to be safe in California. As I finally reached cooler weather and the coast I found a shade tree and some nice grass and took a nap. I then drove up the coast a little more enjoying the wonderfull southern calli traffic. I ended up at the beach in Laguna Miguel. I was thinking about hiking up the hill to the Chinese Buffett near my motel when I saw a restaurant that looked kindof good. The wouldn’t let me inside how I was dressed but told me I could sit out on the patio. It was nicer out there anyway. I ate risotto, a little over hyped, a $140 steak, Wagyu beef with black truffles not very good but fun just to do it. And watched a beautiful sunset over some palm trees and the ocean. The next day up the coast brought the opposite problem, I froze with a biting fog all the way up and nowhere to buy a long sleve shirt or jacket to cover up with. I ended up buying a fleece jacket in San Luis Obispo but it didn’t keep me warm. On the return trip I went through Yosemite. Long story short I baked and froze but it was still a fun trip up to California.
Joseph 2006
Showing posts with label Joseph. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Joseph. Show all posts
Sunday, October 22, 2006
Friday, October 22, 2004
Shot through the foot and you’re to blame
Shot through the foot and you’re to blame
It was a cold winter night, the year was 1991. MC Hammer was number one on the radio with U cant tough this and the Utah Claw Hair-doo was still in style. A couple of guys on the floor had gotten together to watch a video. Our other floormates were gathered at the weekly floor meeting down the Hallway. Then a guy from Kansas and his friend came in the room to watch the movie with us. One of them was cleaning his colt 45 six shooter. He was making us a little nervous, click, file, look through the “empty” chamber, click, a little oil. I thought of asking him to stop but had a weird feeling that I’d get the gun pointed at me with a click showing me how silly I was, so I didn’t say anything. John, my friend told me later that he had the same vivid feeling as therefore also said nothing. His friend was lying on the floor putting the video in the TV vcr combo. Out of the corner of my eye I heard the loudest noise I’d ever heard, and saw a bright light. It was probably a split second but it seemed like forever before it registered what had happened. “I’ve been shot” were the first words I heard. I then noticed the guy on the floor grabbing his foot. Quick, dial the operator was the next thing I heard (Maybe they don’t have 911 in Kansas). I hit 0, thought for a second and dialed 911. The annoying lady tried to keep me on the line. I told them someone had been shot in the foot near the dorms. She kept tying to get more info and I wasn’t in the mood so I hung up on her. Someone ran down the hallway to tell the younger brother of the guy who’d been shot. “you’re brothers been shot” he said, loud enough for the guys parents to hear. “mom, dad, I’ve got to go, click.” Now the brain trust is in full swing. Let’s get him out of here and take him to the hospital. Just a sec, I thought the hall meeting is still in full swing. I walk up to the open door with a few hey Joe, what’s up, not much I say as I wait till I’m no longer in anyone’s attention and I close the door. I run back to the room, the shoe is removed not but he foot is still in shock and there is only a small circle of blood on his white sock. Where is the bullet, no one knows, is it still in the foot. His brother and I pick him out boy scout chair style and we head out the door hoping not to run into any authority figures. Our small pack heads down the hallway towards the elevator. Two scouts up ahead, the wounded with his carrying squad and someone guarding the rear. Push the elevator call button and luckily get into an empty elevator. Only to be stopped on the second floor. We get a weird look as no one notices the socked foot and the circle of blood. We carry him out through the lobby as the lounge lovers politely ignore us. “Take him to my truck” We walk through the heavy falling snow when a flashlight shines in our eyes, stop right there!, It was of course the man. Put him down right now says the highly intelligent police officer, so we put the coatless victim down in a small snow drift. As the interrogation starts, I ask the officer permission to give the guy my coat, who was shivering by now and still in slight shock. As the ambulance arrives a crowd of a couple hundred has gathered around in time to see me, now shivering I didn’t have a coat by now, being put into the back of a cop car. It was only to give my statement but I knew there would be explaining to do in the ward on Sunday. The next day on campus the rumors started, some guy was shot and is in critical condition, or was it gang related from the Samoan priests quorum from salt lake. The meeting down the hall thought we’d dropped a book really loud, while the dorm across the say said all the windows shook. Amazingly, the bullet passed all the way through his foot, hit solid concrete, bounced off and couldn’t penetrate the carpet again on the way out, not a bone in his foot was broken, and he was walking normally again three weeks later. His friend did have to check his gun in at the front desk. I was mentioned in police beat along with the others guys, as others were present.
Joseph 2004
It was a cold winter night, the year was 1991. MC Hammer was number one on the radio with U cant tough this and the Utah Claw Hair-doo was still in style. A couple of guys on the floor had gotten together to watch a video. Our other floormates were gathered at the weekly floor meeting down the Hallway. Then a guy from Kansas and his friend came in the room to watch the movie with us. One of them was cleaning his colt 45 six shooter. He was making us a little nervous, click, file, look through the “empty” chamber, click, a little oil. I thought of asking him to stop but had a weird feeling that I’d get the gun pointed at me with a click showing me how silly I was, so I didn’t say anything. John, my friend told me later that he had the same vivid feeling as therefore also said nothing. His friend was lying on the floor putting the video in the TV vcr combo. Out of the corner of my eye I heard the loudest noise I’d ever heard, and saw a bright light. It was probably a split second but it seemed like forever before it registered what had happened. “I’ve been shot” were the first words I heard. I then noticed the guy on the floor grabbing his foot. Quick, dial the operator was the next thing I heard (Maybe they don’t have 911 in Kansas). I hit 0, thought for a second and dialed 911. The annoying lady tried to keep me on the line. I told them someone had been shot in the foot near the dorms. She kept tying to get more info and I wasn’t in the mood so I hung up on her. Someone ran down the hallway to tell the younger brother of the guy who’d been shot. “you’re brothers been shot” he said, loud enough for the guys parents to hear. “mom, dad, I’ve got to go, click.” Now the brain trust is in full swing. Let’s get him out of here and take him to the hospital. Just a sec, I thought the hall meeting is still in full swing. I walk up to the open door with a few hey Joe, what’s up, not much I say as I wait till I’m no longer in anyone’s attention and I close the door. I run back to the room, the shoe is removed not but he foot is still in shock and there is only a small circle of blood on his white sock. Where is the bullet, no one knows, is it still in the foot. His brother and I pick him out boy scout chair style and we head out the door hoping not to run into any authority figures. Our small pack heads down the hallway towards the elevator. Two scouts up ahead, the wounded with his carrying squad and someone guarding the rear. Push the elevator call button and luckily get into an empty elevator. Only to be stopped on the second floor. We get a weird look as no one notices the socked foot and the circle of blood. We carry him out through the lobby as the lounge lovers politely ignore us. “Take him to my truck” We walk through the heavy falling snow when a flashlight shines in our eyes, stop right there!, It was of course the man. Put him down right now says the highly intelligent police officer, so we put the coatless victim down in a small snow drift. As the interrogation starts, I ask the officer permission to give the guy my coat, who was shivering by now and still in slight shock. As the ambulance arrives a crowd of a couple hundred has gathered around in time to see me, now shivering I didn’t have a coat by now, being put into the back of a cop car. It was only to give my statement but I knew there would be explaining to do in the ward on Sunday. The next day on campus the rumors started, some guy was shot and is in critical condition, or was it gang related from the Samoan priests quorum from salt lake. The meeting down the hall thought we’d dropped a book really loud, while the dorm across the say said all the windows shook. Amazingly, the bullet passed all the way through his foot, hit solid concrete, bounced off and couldn’t penetrate the carpet again on the way out, not a bone in his foot was broken, and he was walking normally again three weeks later. His friend did have to check his gun in at the front desk. I was mentioned in police beat along with the others guys, as others were present.
Joseph 2004
Thursday, October 23, 2003
Meat Eater
Meat Eater
While I was going to BYU for undergrad I would come home each summer and work at Discovery Joe's as a waiter. I saw many weird things but here's one of the weirdest.
It was a sunny day and most of the customers were sitting out on the porch, including her. She was a little old lady, covered head to foot in old lady gear in the middle of the summer. She looked like she would melt but she seemed to be just fine. I went up to her to take her order. She'd like a hamburger and make it rare she said, not all that politely. I wasn't sure I heard her correctly so I repeated, rare? She affirmed and so I went back to the cook and told him personally so he wouldn't think it was a mistake. I waited on some other customers and then saw the chef waving to me. Your burgers ready. It was quick since it was rare. I looked it as it oozed juice from all over. It was definitely red inside. The bun was soggy from all the juice. I brought it down to her and stood nearby, sure that she would complain about the burger being too rare. I'd told the chef make it nice and rare just to show her since she'd been rude. Sure enough she signaled over to me and began to complain about the burger. To my surprise, however, she stated that it was not rare enough. In her best impersonation of a cackling hen, she said, she wanted it put on the grill immediately flipped over and put on a bun.
I went to the chef, Too rare huh he said. Nope, she wants it flopped on the grill flipped and put on a bun. He looked at me like I was joking. Then he realized I wasn't joking and so as not to be shown up he said, fine but she's not getting another one. I watched as he flipped it as quick as he could and flopped the piece of meat on a bun. We both looked at each other, here goes nothing. I brought the burger to her and this time watched from a ways back in morbid fascination as this lady picked up the dead animal and began to gnaw on it. Raw hamburger sliding down her chin. The bun more of just something to hold it with to not get her hands dirty. Juice mounting on her old woman beard. I looked over to the chef. He stood there as slack jawed as I was looking on in disbelief as this wildebeest brought down her prey. Good thing it was dead cause she didn't move all that fast. She finished and without ceremony paid her bill, left a cheap tip, and flew on her broomstick back to her coffin till she could stalk her next burger.
Again one of the weirder things I've seen food wise.
Joseph
While I was going to BYU for undergrad I would come home each summer and work at Discovery Joe's as a waiter. I saw many weird things but here's one of the weirdest.
It was a sunny day and most of the customers were sitting out on the porch, including her. She was a little old lady, covered head to foot in old lady gear in the middle of the summer. She looked like she would melt but she seemed to be just fine. I went up to her to take her order. She'd like a hamburger and make it rare she said, not all that politely. I wasn't sure I heard her correctly so I repeated, rare? She affirmed and so I went back to the cook and told him personally so he wouldn't think it was a mistake. I waited on some other customers and then saw the chef waving to me. Your burgers ready. It was quick since it was rare. I looked it as it oozed juice from all over. It was definitely red inside. The bun was soggy from all the juice. I brought it down to her and stood nearby, sure that she would complain about the burger being too rare. I'd told the chef make it nice and rare just to show her since she'd been rude. Sure enough she signaled over to me and began to complain about the burger. To my surprise, however, she stated that it was not rare enough. In her best impersonation of a cackling hen, she said, she wanted it put on the grill immediately flipped over and put on a bun.
I went to the chef, Too rare huh he said. Nope, she wants it flopped on the grill flipped and put on a bun. He looked at me like I was joking. Then he realized I wasn't joking and so as not to be shown up he said, fine but she's not getting another one. I watched as he flipped it as quick as he could and flopped the piece of meat on a bun. We both looked at each other, here goes nothing. I brought the burger to her and this time watched from a ways back in morbid fascination as this lady picked up the dead animal and began to gnaw on it. Raw hamburger sliding down her chin. The bun more of just something to hold it with to not get her hands dirty. Juice mounting on her old woman beard. I looked over to the chef. He stood there as slack jawed as I was looking on in disbelief as this wildebeest brought down her prey. Good thing it was dead cause she didn't move all that fast. She finished and without ceremony paid her bill, left a cheap tip, and flew on her broomstick back to her coffin till she could stalk her next burger.
Again one of the weirder things I've seen food wise.
Joseph
Tuesday, October 23, 2001
I had been scared of this kid for awhile
A story related about three 18 year old boys from a rescue party for the martin handcart company. They carried almost the entire company across the freezing river and all three boys died of related health problems. When Pres Brigham Young heard what these three boys had done, he wept. He later said that this act alone would ensure the three young men places in the celestial kingdom.
I’ve often thought of this selfless act and the Christ like love they showed to others. My story is an experience I consider very similar to the one above. I don’t know a lot about the three boys personal lives but can only assume they were decent young men. The protagonist in my story however is a little different…
I had been scared of this kid for awhile. He hung out with a dangerous crowd, he smoked, drank, and took part in may other non churchy things. I had never really talked to him and now he was at a different school, high school. I was in 8th grade when this story took place. I’d always advanced along with David in church and school, but this was the first year Davey would be in a different school. As his little-big brother I felt very protective of him. One day at lunch a kid came up to me and told me someone had slammed David’s face into the lunch table while saying “David you bug me”. I was very upset and headed over to my bike at the bike rack determined to ride over to the high school, pull the kid out of class, and beat the snot out of him, or get the snot beat out of me trying. The same barer of bad news caught up to me and told me everything was okay. The stoner kid that I had been afraid of, had already beaten the jerky kid to a pulp. I learned a good lesson that day. For all the “stoners” visible flaws he was the only person in the lunchroom that day that stood up for what was right. I’m not saying that one act will guarantee him the celestial kingdom, and I can’t deny it either. I believe he showed true Christ like attributes that day.
(Joseph Thomas Nielsen, Christmas 2001)
I’ve often thought of this selfless act and the Christ like love they showed to others. My story is an experience I consider very similar to the one above. I don’t know a lot about the three boys personal lives but can only assume they were decent young men. The protagonist in my story however is a little different…
I had been scared of this kid for awhile. He hung out with a dangerous crowd, he smoked, drank, and took part in may other non churchy things. I had never really talked to him and now he was at a different school, high school. I was in 8th grade when this story took place. I’d always advanced along with David in church and school, but this was the first year Davey would be in a different school. As his little-big brother I felt very protective of him. One day at lunch a kid came up to me and told me someone had slammed David’s face into the lunch table while saying “David you bug me”. I was very upset and headed over to my bike at the bike rack determined to ride over to the high school, pull the kid out of class, and beat the snot out of him, or get the snot beat out of me trying. The same barer of bad news caught up to me and told me everything was okay. The stoner kid that I had been afraid of, had already beaten the jerky kid to a pulp. I learned a good lesson that day. For all the “stoners” visible flaws he was the only person in the lunchroom that day that stood up for what was right. I’m not saying that one act will guarantee him the celestial kingdom, and I can’t deny it either. I believe he showed true Christ like attributes that day.
(Joseph Thomas Nielsen, Christmas 2001)
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