Meet Paul

It's been a couple months, but I've decided to try to get back blogging. From here on out, come hell or high water, I'll be doing one at least every Monday, with other posts coming sporadically as I see fit. On this first one, I'm afraid I'm just gonna mail it in, but hopefully you'll find it worthwhile. This is a trailer for Paul, coming this March from my heroes Simon Pegg and Nick Frost, who brought us Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz, two absurdly funny British imports that have gotten these guys a major following in the U.S. This might be my own most anticipated movie of the year, along with Cowboys & Aliens. Anyhoo, I hope you enjoy, and I hope I still have readers. Ciao.

I Wish the Justice System Worked Like This!

Happy Thanksgiving week, everybody!  Rather than bore you with an overly serious, sickly sweet message, I'm going to give appreciation to one of the things I'm most thankful for: the poe-lice, by going back in time to 1990, when cops, judges, and criminals were less afraid to express themselves.  The average John Q. Public thinks police work is all about crimefighting and tasings, but they forget about the musical side.  Cop Rock was canceled after only 11 episodes, and voted by TV Guide in 2002 as the 8th worst show of all time, but it's bequeathed memories that you will never forget once you've seen it.  I actually remember this show when it debuted (and had its finale) in my sixth grade year.  With the success of Glee 20 years later, we can make the argument that Cop Rock was a show before its time and was actually a terrific idea all along.  If that rationale doesn't convince you, here are a few of my favorite songs:

Rest assured, there is plenty more where that came from.  You were too good to stay with us for long, Cop Rock.  God rest you and keep you safe and warm.  Gobble gobble.

Reflections on the Past Decade

This is how I felt a couple of days ago when I passed my 10-year mark of returning from the mission. I know, it's really dramatic, and I'm still fairly young, but a decade is a significant fraction of one's life, no matter how old you get. I'm not quite ready to throw caution to the wind yet, but I can at least identify with the old bat above. At 100, or even once you hit your eighties, who cares? I'm sure I'll at least eat all the bacon I want, if not break out the hard liquor.

But back to the subject at hand. I've been back in the States for a decade. I'm not quite sure what to make of that. Every October 25 stands out as another anniversary in my life that I always take notice of, maybe because it's exactly two months after my birthday. I don't know if that's normal. But this year I'm especially reflective. I've done great for myself in the family department, and own a growing business in an industry I love. But all the same, I feel the need to check myself. I kind of feel like 21-year-old Aaron who was ready to conquer the world has morphed into a cynic with ongoing hot and cold faith issues. I'd like to get some of that youthful vigor and idealism back. I remember the drive and enthusiasm I had for the first two or three years home, but I don't know how to recapture it. I feel like I've become too well acquainted with the world and there's no way of really ever getting back to my innocence, because I've seen too much. And I know the goal in life is to grow and learn, even the hard lessons, but sometimes I wonder how some people are able to be so positive. I used to think overly happy people were obnoxious, but I've come to admire people who do that in the face of the same things I encounter in my own life.

Anyway, that's enough of that. I actually am largely happy with life. I have some really great things going for me. I just wanted to get some of that out. No one commented on my previous post, so I punished you by not writing for a month. But also, no one complained that I was gone, so if you're reading, go flog yourself a few times. Best of everything to you until next time.

Have a Laugh on Me

Okay, I'm still working up to doing the blog weekly. In case you were wondering, we're doing well here, healthy and happy. The baby is getting cuter. When he gets upset, he has a face he makes that, when paired with his wrinkly brow, makes him look like Benjamin Button, but all in all, he's quite fetching. I am a father of three, and so I know there is no such thing as an attractive newborn, and have seen no evidence to the contrary. At any rate, on Sunday the little feller will be a month old, so time moves on as rapidly as ever. We (especially Amy) are eager for him to find a schedule he likes and stick to it.

The following is from a comedian named Bengt (pronounced Bent) Washburn. I went to see him at a live show last month in Logan. I wouldn't call his stuff offensive, but it's not for everybody either. He's no longer an active Mormon, and lives in Germany with his Irish Catholic, smoker, Air Force wife (which he also riffs on heavily in his standup), but is not unfriendly to the Church in his act. And some of his observations, especially about the missionary days, made me laugh until my gut hurt. And I'm not someone who laughs out loud all that much. Those who know me best would probably tell you I usually just smirk at my own cleverness (lies!) and chortle a bit. It sure seems true that the freaks are most likely to let Mormons into their house. I personally entered the homes of weirdos you couldn't even make up. Anyway, if you like this, there's plenty more on YouTube. Hope you enjoy.

Presenting: The Little Nipper!

So, last Friday, September 3, at 12:03 p.m., Emmett Lamond Orgill emerged reluctantly, but alertly, and immediately wailed about the cold. Here are a few pics, as I promised before. For those of you who don't know, we named him after Doctor Emmett Brown of Back to the Futurefame. (No, not really. How stupid do you think we are?) Emmett was a name that Amy has loved all along and took awhile to grow on me. But the Lamond part sealed the deal for me. With Seth, we used the middle name Pulham as an honor for Amy's late grandmother, whose maiden name was Pulham, a family that I don't know well but seem to be great people who have lived good lives. On this one, I wanted to pay homage to my late grandfather, Kyle Lamond Rigby. We kicked around the idea of using Rigby and Kyle, but settled on this. So he has a very old-school name, but not so old-school that he'll get mocked.

Anyway, special thanks to our families, especially my angel mother, who stayed with Jackson and Seth Saturday afternoon into Sunday. We are really happy to have the little tyke home, although he's getting circumcised in a little over an hour and will likely be pissed off about it. We are totally in love with him, and with the NFL season also starting tonight, what else can a man ask for? I'll be back again in a few days. Take care.

Looking not-so-happy to be here, just a few minutes after getting squeezed out. Those lips couldn't get any poutier.

New big brother Seth. He already functions as kind of a big little brother to Jackson, so I'm thinking he'll be ready for his new role.

All scrunched up and squishy. I keep trying to straighten him out, but he's like a Slinky.

My mom enjoying grandbaby number six. That number has tripled in just over a year!

Transitions, Fetus Update, and a Glowing Movie Review

I've let the summer get away from me. Honestly, it feels like July just started, and now here we are at the end of August. Here is a quick summary: cursed the heat, made a bunch of improvements on the house, Amy grew larger with my spawn, became happy as temps dropped and football season came upon us, and turned 31. Anywho, I am so very happy that fall is upon us. I don't know how anybody can have another favorite season. I can appreciate each for what it is, but September through November is perfect as far as I'm concerned. And to kick things off this year, on Friday, we're scheduled to have Amy induced with our thirdborn. I'm really happy about it even though I know we're about to be outnumbered. We're probably going with the name Emmett, which took a while to grow on me but Amy loves. It seems to go well with the names of our other knuckleheads, Testikov and Superfly. I actually have had several thoughts percolating for a while for upcoming blog posts, but they'll have to wait a bit longer. I'm sure the next one will involve the little nipper.

In the meantime, though, I'd like to give a major endorsement to a low-key movie that is in theaters now, in hopes that someone will be persuaded to go see it. I love finding hidden gems, and it's even more rewarding to my snobbery when I catch one while it's in theaters. A lot of people bitch about Hollywood making all trash, or not having anything new and interesting. Get Low is the perfect example of why that is not true. Based on a true story of a backwoods recluse in 1930s Tennessee who threw himself a funeral party while he was still alive, Get Low stars Robert Duvall as Felix Bush, whose legend has grown to almost Tall Tale proportions over the forty years he has holed up. He hires the local mortician, played by Bill Murray, to spread the word, and invites one and all to come share stories they've heard about him. It sounds quirky, but somehow the movie is pretty accessible for just about anyone old enough to get it, and combines comedy with poignancy, and features a great soundtrack with contributions from Alison Krauss and Oscar-winning composer Jan A.P. Kaczmarek. And honestly, Duvall and Murray should be enough for any movie buff. Four stars. Please go see this if it's playing in your area. With that, I take my leave of you. Until sometime this weekend, toodle-oo.

Funny stuff from Nick Frost

Those of you who know me well know that I love British humor (I guess I should spell it humour). From Monty Python to Spinal Tap to Jeeves and Wooster to The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy to Hugh Grant to Ricky Gervais, I have great appreciation for the comedy brought west from our friends across the pond. In recent years, I have come to love Nick Frost and Simon Pegg, the creators of Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz. I just stumbled across a couple of Frost's snippets on YouTube that I laughed my butt off at. Women will probably appreciate the Man Cold even better. Who knew that the wussiness of men was so universal?