Wednesday, March 30, 2016

Here is a link to a transcribed version of Elder Byron Adair's missionary journal from the early 20th century. If this link becomes inactive, please contact me for correction:

















https://docs.google.com/document/d/1fpYHe0uKmlxGwEL3KwAj7ZB0A6nNQbsJ8kzbDEvMrYg/edit?usp=sharing

























Monday, October 21, 2013

Me Doing Standup Comedy: So Bad, It Must Be True

I have made a fool out of myself on numerous occasions. This blog has been my way of sharing these stories of failure with my friends, family and basically anyone who will read.

 But the failure I am about to tell you about is so epic, so monstrous, so cringe-worthily terrible, that you may not believe it to be true.




 This week, I tried standup comedy.





Once, I ran into a glass wall, remember that?

I have failed at the gym (click here to read about it)

I have failed at mustache farming (in this post)

I failed at the gym a second time (in this post)

I have even tripped in public once before (read about it here)

In this post I laughed like a little girl (click here)

But none of those compare to what happened to me this weekend at the HumorU show here on BYU campus.

Did I get booed off the stage? Was rotten fruit rained down upon me like it was a Looney Toones scene?

No.

As a matter of fact my jokes were a hit.

But I had a tiny coordination problem when it came to getting up onto the stage.  But maybe I should start at the beginning.

You see, last week I got an email inviting me to audition for the HumorU fall show. I went, preformed my jokes for the club members, and the next day I got a second email telling me I had been approved, and that they wanted me to tell my jokes at their show.

I was very excited to be a "greenspotter" (non-clubmember on his first try) in a HumorU show. People were going to pay money to come see me (and a lot of more talented people) be funny!

We did 2 shows on Friday, and 2 shows on Saturday.

The opening Friday show pushed me to my limits of nervousness. While the crowd shuffled in, I was sure that I would forget all of my jokes and stammer like a Ute (the student, not the tribe) on stage until I was forcibly removed by an armed mob of angry BYU undergrads, incensed at the waste of money that my feeble attempt at humor had caused them.

However, when I slowly walked onto the stage, I felt the heat from the single spotlight, and I could hear the crowd settle into their chairs, ready to be entertained. I grabbed the mic stand, and I felt at home, as I would while joking with my wife in the kitchen.

I said funny things to the people; the people laughed.

I said more funny things; they laughed even more. I said all the funny things I had to say; the people applauded.

I have never felt so confident on a stage in my life. Which was surprising, because my jokes were only so-so. But, I had survived. I felt eager and optimistic about the second show of the evening.

As the second group of students scrambled for seats in the old lecture hall, I stood chomping at the bit in the hallway, ready to make them glad that they had come.

My name was announced.

I opened the door and stepped into the darkened room.

The applause of the crowd exploded; they loved me and hadn't even heard me!

I headed for the stage, ready to stand in front of that red curtain and do my magic.

I got so excited that I began to trot to the front of the room, anxious to summit the stage and spew my silliness.

I got closer.

I could feel the spotlight, begging to be stepped into.

I could almost feel the cold steel of the mic stand in my hand.



I tripped, and ran headfirst into the wall at which the spotlight was pointed. 

As I felt my head bash into the chalkboard that the curtain was covering up, I thought, "I knew it was all too good to be true. My non-awkward streak couldn't last forever, and it comes to an end here. Now. In front of all of these people."

I struggled to my feet and said into the microphone: "The best part of that entrance, is that none of you will know if it was intentional or not." The people laughed! They believed me!

Thinking that I had successfully played off the most ungracious display of physical movement in my short life, I started to tell my jokes.

And then the blood began to drip, slowly, onto my carefully-picked-out-just-for-my-standup-debut-cardigan.

A girl in the front row gasped in horror. I knew the jig was up. I felt like one of those old-timey burglars in striped pajamas who gets caught in a dead-end alley.





It was just at that moment of great alarm when my wonderful wife Julie came running up to the stage, wielding a tissue. She helped me cover the wound, and I feebly told the crowd I would be back, hopefully.

The next comedian ran up to the stage and began his material. I went to the bathroom. When the bleeding was stopped, I wrapped my head with six feet of toilet paper, so that I looked like a Civil War casualty.

When I (very carefully) took to the stage again, I could have said anything and the crowd would have laughed. They felt so bad that they clapped the very loudest for me.

All of the other shows went off without a hitch.

I later learned that I had actually broken the wooden frame of the chalkboard with my head. I personally cleaned the blood spatters off of the base of the mic stand.

I will attach pictures of the blessed event and its aftermath.

Thank you for once again laughing with me and at me.



 It is hard to see the other blood drops, but the one is pretty visible.
 That is the fine woodwork in a 102-year-old building that I busted with my noggin.

This is a quick photo I snapped while in the bathroom. Running into a wall mountain-goat-ramming style will cause these results.

This blog will never get old as long as I can continue to supply it with blurry cell-phone pictures of my bleeding head in bathroom mirrors.

Sunday, September 22, 2013

Interstice is the Worstest (that rhymes)

Where are the words? None to be found. I have returned to the realm of blogging, and I shall leave it at that.

I must thank Tanner Gilliland of tannerandbryan.blogspot.com for the inspiration to take pen in hand again. Tanner, you are to me what the $5 Hot and Ready was to Little Caesars; that which rescued from what seemed an imminent shutting-down. Head over to his blog for more laughs than you will find here.

Today's post will be another trip to "Let's Laugh at Race's Poor Decisions/Misfortunes-ville", with a detour through "Embarrassing Moment-land". But we'll get to that in a moment.

I am now married, a state I was not in when I last posted on the Brigham Yog. The young lady I married has been my girlfriend/fiancée for the last 2 years. In that time she has never been mentioned by name on this blog, and has apparently been bitter about it since the first date. Let us rectify that now:

Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie Julie

Anyway, now that I am married to whats-her-name I am officially a hitched horse.

I was under the impression that engaging in the bonds of Holy Matressmoney would change my life, but I had no idea that it would give me superpowers.

Superpower A: Opinion Shifting

 I have discovered that my ability to change opinions has expanded drastically. One moment I want to put mustard in the tuna for lunch, and in the blink of an eye I find out that I actually DO NOT want to put mustard in that thing.

When the day begins I of the firm conviction that I want to buy a blue-checkered shirt, yet ere the sun goes down I have found out that in fact I am NOT going to wear that shirt.

I am getting good that this superpower. My flip-flopping ability is related to the next superpower.

Superpower 2: Code Talking

When the wedding bells began to chime, a respected adult friend of mine told me about the code of the women. He illustrated with examples like this:

"Is that a Dairy Queen?"

Woman code interpretation:

"Pull over and get us some Dilly Bars"

or

"It looks like that light bulb in the bathroom died"

=

"I want you to go change the light bulb in the bathroom".

As the truth behind this man's words have begun to distill upon my soul, I have been shocked at my own ability to decode and respond to this codespeak. It comes in handy.

Now, concerning the promised trip to "Let's Laugh at Race's Misfortunes-ville", let us start now. My readers have long been regaled with stories of shameful workout experiences, unfortunate episodes of fainting, and other less than stellar Race-isms.

Our current story took place in the brand new Provo Rec center.



As is apparent from the photo, it is a high-tech, spiffy new building complete with glass walls, water slides, indoor courts and a rock climbing wall.

JULIE and I went with some friends to a community movie night held in one of the large conference rooms at the rec center. Halfway through the film the banks of my bladder began to flow over, and I excused myself from the group to visit the powder room.

I was strolling nonchalantly through the darkened impromptu theater, when out of nowhere

I ran face first into a plate glass wall. 

Here is a rough approximation of how it must have looked:


After I cleaned up all the blood (and there was a lot of it), and picked up the shattered fragments of my glasses, I decided to snap this pic of what it did to my eyebrow. The scar I have now is not very noticeable.




So it appears that I have not gained the superpower of walking through walls.









Wednesday, January 9, 2013

My Lawsuit Against BYU

I have not blogged in months. For this I am ashamed. I have been busy with classes, and I blame my professors for my lack of posts.

I know what you all are thinking, and YES you may sue BYU for emotional damages incurred as a result of the cougar-induced Brigham Yog Famine. Click here to proceed to the office of my attorney, he will handle all cases against the free-time crushing monstrosity commonly referred to as Brigham Young University. 

I am now starting a new semester here in Provo, and the following are my not-so-interesting ramblings about...stuff.

Stuff #1- My classes.

 My class schedule this semester is a little nutty. My high school experience (which was an adventure on the high Cs (that was a solid pun)) did let me in on one secret, which was that I like English and Literature.

I am currently enrolled to take 5 English classes at once. I will probably end up not doing that thing, mostly because (for me and my time-management skills) that is the academic equivalent of challenging a 9 year old to a most annoying sound contest. In both scenarios you will probably fail, and will certainly end up with a headache.

But currently I am scheduled for the following classes:
  • Writing Literary Criticism
  • Major Authors (Hawthorne and Melville)
  • The American Novel
  • British Literary History I
  • Myth, Legends and Folktales
That is all. I wish I did not have to drop any, but I bet at least one has to go.


 That is not all of my books, either.


Stuff #2- The American Novel (so special it gets its own "stuff" point).

After only a few hours of experience, this class has already emerged as my favorite for the semester. There are a few things that impress me about this class. First, I will say that the fact that the teacher Dr. Cutchins looks a little like Quentin Tarentino is neither a plus nor a minus to the course, but is pretty cool:

Picture of Dennis Ray Cutchins

DISCLAIMER: OK, these men look nothing alike in these pictures. But come to class on Monday and Wednesdays and you will see.  In person it is a much stronger resemblance.

The reading list is awesome as well:
  • Moby Dick- Herman Melville
  • Daisy Miller- Henry James
  • Catcher in the Rye- JD Salinger
  • Shipping News- EA Prouelx
  • Dialogic Imagination- Mikhail Bakhtin 
  • All the Pretty Horses- Cormac McCarthy
  • The Sun Also Rises- Ernest Hemingway
  • The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn- Mark Twain
  • Mosquito Coast- Paul Theroux
Some of those are not my favorites (looking at you Salinger!) but I am excited to have Dr. Cutchins show me the error of my ways.

Another thing that instantly won me over to Dr. Cutchins was the fact that he used a curse word in class on the second day. I wont say which word it was, but it does appear in the bible (which makes it ok), and it was awesome.

And if anyone who has the ability to fire Dr. Cutchins is reading, I was just kidding about the curse word thing. (But I'm totally not).



Stuff #3- Trivial Pursuit

Outside of school, I have learned something important: there are only 2 types of people in this world: people who love to play trivial pursuit, and people who would rather use sandpaper as toilet paper for the rest of their lives rather than play trivial pursuit.

I happen to love the game, as do most of my roommates. We often drag unsuspecting friends and girlfriends into the game. While that does not always make for correct answers, it does make for entertaining answers. Heather Bitter will go down in history as the all time best answer giver in the history of Trivial Pursuit. Some of her best work includes:

  • What animal is the result of a horse and a donkey breeding? 
    • Heather's answer: "A zebra!"
  • What actress starred with John Wayne in "Rooster Cogburn and the Lady"?
    • Austen's answer: "Katherine Hepburn"
    • Heather's retort "Um Austen, that is not a person. I think you mean Audrey Hepburn." 
This is the same girl who thought (and I kid thee not) that a "bowel movement" was a type of surgery.

Stuff #4- My New Job

I now have gainful employment as a security officer at the LDS Motion Picture Studio.

 


That is me at my desk. And yes, I do carry one bullet in my chest pocket. I really love working there. It is fun, exciting, and I get plenty of homework done.
 

Stuff #5- I once told my readers about a great mug that I bought. It was a mug among mugs (click here for the story).

I now present to you chapter two in my mugnificient journey:

That is a mug with a serial number. If I attacked someone with it would be assault with a deadly drinker. I could use it in a drive by juicing. I use it to drink Smith and Wesson cider, Colt cola, Remington rum, Beretta beverages, Nine Millimeter milk, Pistol Pop, Semi-Automatic soda, Hair Trigger tea, and Glock Gatorade.

Unfortunately, Mike Bloomberg will probably take it away from me soon, both because it is a weapon and because it holds more than 16 ounces. (Double political joke).

This violent vessel was a Christmas present from my sister Markee and her husband Eric. Thanks!

That is all the stuffs I have to share with you guys today. I don't know if you can call it a promise if you know you will break it, but here goes:

I promise to blog more.

And to end this wonderful post, here is a picture of me in a huge sombrero:


 OLE!