Two Great REM Songs

From 1986 to 1992, "R.E.M." used to be my answer to the question, "What's your favorite band?' Then, from 1992 to 1999, my answer was "The Band," and from 1999 to 2005, my answer was "Radiohead." Now, music reporters have stopped "catching up to" me to fire questions at me. And frankly, I am enjoying the anonymity.

But wait. I was talking about R.E.M., not my decline in popularity among music critics. Here is R.E.M.'s finest song, "Fall on Me":



And here is a great song from the unplugged MTV show that didn't make it onto the unplugged CD for whatever reason.



There's that great moment when Mike Mills breaks in and takes over the vocals. It gives me chills. I should write a blog entry called something like "Greatest Little Outbursts in Songs." I'd add the moment when Neil Young sings the "Ma, send me money now / I'm gonna make it somehow / I need another chance" in "Cinnamon Girl" and when Bruce Springsteen sings"But I remember us riding in my brother's car / Her body tan and wet down in the reservoir" in "The River." But I don't want to take the suspense away from the future exciting web log entry that I'll most surely write.

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Best Movie-Going Experiences

Andy and I were talking about movies, and the issue of how various factors can affect someone's appreciation of the movie. This seems so obvious, yet rarely do people like Roger Ebert say things like, "I thought I would have enjoyed Room Without a View more, but the theater restroom had rough toilet paper, thus putting me in a state of discomfiture. That, and the movie sucked."

I know I've seen movies that I should have liked more. There was The Sacrifice by Tarkovsky, which I walked out of. You see, I was caught up in March Madness at the time, so I wasn't in the right frame of mind to appreciate dripping water. I would have been fine with three or four minutes of dripping water, but forty-three minutes of dripping water was too much.

Then the subject turned to which movies Andy most enjoyed in the theater. I asked him to separate what he felt about the movie afterwards or in repeated viewings, and just try to think of the experience itself. He gave his list, but fortunately for you, dear reader, I wasn't able to give my list, for dinner was served. The frustration of an incomplete conversation led to this web log entry.

Here's my list, in order of viewings:

Silent Movie - This Mel Brooks movie was on cable television the other night, but I refused to watch it. Deep down, I know it's a crappy movie, but I want to preserve it. When I saw it in the theater, I was a young teenager with a bunch of friends -- Paul, Steve, Mark, Dave, and Lance I think -- and we were all sitting in the same row, and the laughter was infectious. I've never laughed harder during a movie. The only thing I remember about the movie was a slapstick scene with clumsy people dressed in armor. Oh, and Marcel Marceau is the only person who speaks during the movie. Get it? He's a mime.

Jaws - My parents wouldn't let me see this movie because it was too violent. When they finally relented, the buzz built up my expectations to impossible heights, yet Jaws was one of those rare movies that couldn't be overhyped.

Citizen Kane - Pretentiousness alert. Sorry, but it's true. I loved this movie so much when I saw it in the old Joseph Smith Building auditorium that I sat through the next viewing as well. I was taken in by a bunch of movies I saw for that film class at BYU -- Shane, The Story of Adele H, The General, Nanook of the North, The Best Years of Our Lives, Being There. The only movie I really didn't like at the time was The Best Years of Our Lives because it didn't have enough action for an alleged World War II movie. Now it's my favorite movie on the list. Go figure.

Raiders of the Lost Ark - I saw this movie the day before I left home to go on my mission to Peru. Fantastic thrill ride. The movie, I mean. Well, the mission was exciting too. I vomited on a family and had bricks dropped at me from tops of buildings. But the movie was even more exciting, because it had jungles and snakes.

Silence of the Lambs - While Anthony Hopkins was great as Hannibal Lecter in that movie, that other guy was just as good as Jame Gumb.

"Wait, was she a great big fat person?"

"Yeah, she was a big girl."

The Sixth Sense - This nearly forgotten movie totally sucked me in.

Titanic - No, I wasn't a 13-year-old girl when I saw this movie. The scene where the upraised stern starts sinking is one of the finest moments in cinema history, along with the horse ride through fire scene in Gone With the Wind and the shower scene in Private School.

The Hangover - I bent over with guffaws at least three times. "Tigers love pepper. They hate cinnamon."

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The Most Irritating Driving Move

I've been trying to think of the most irritating driving move. For a time, I thought it was the guy who weaves through traffic under the premise that no one else will change speeds or switch lanes. But that's not it. That kind of person is actually interesting in a way. I imagine he thinks everyone else is an automaton, whereas he is a rebel, a maverick -- someone who stands high enough above the crowd to push everyone out of his way. There's something about that guy I respect. I wouldn't even mind listening to his collection of self-actualization cassettes.

What about the Bloomington woman who yields her rightful turn at a four-way stop because she's a very nice person. No, I know I stopped here before you, but you go ahead. No, you go ahead. I've very nice. Go ahead. Oh, I'm sorry. We both started to go at the same time! You go. Just go ahead. Oh, and maybe you should turn that frown up-side-down! She's in the running.

There's the guy who tailgates, and there's the guy who turns without using his blinker. I'm a little reluctant to throw stones at those guys, because sometimes I drive too close to the car in front of me, and if I'm holding something in one hand, a lot of times it's much easier to make a turn without turning on the blinker, and only later do I realize someone was behind me and had a moment of confusion due to my failure to use a blinker. So I'm inclined to give those guys a pass.

There's the oblivious cell phone driver. Yeah, Dude, I'm totally gonna buy pretzels. I said I'd buy pretzels and that means I'm going to buy pretzels. Don't bring up the Doritos again. I never said I'd bring Doritos. I said I might bring Doritos. Dude, you're pissing me off, and there's some dude in a Rodeo giving me the bird.

As a commuter cyclist, I have to call out the people who drive too close to me when there's no oncoming traffic. If I happen to dodge a pothole or broken glass at the wrong time, there's going to be an ugly collision. I could get bounced backwards off the windshield and go flying in the air, and maybe strike a speed limit sign, which would knock the wind out of me. Then I'd have to fish for my cell phone to call Wendy and tell her to come pick me up because my bike is jammed in someone's wheel well.

Or there's the classic goofball move of speeding up to pass a cyclist and then cutting him off with a right turn. I'd guess that happens to me once a month.

Or there's the person who gets grouchy and honks at me when I roll through a red light, even if it's a red light at a t-intersection where there's no danger to my right, and no reason for me to stop, other than the law. I've dealt with enough guilt and shame as a Mormon without having to fight off the guilt imposed by jealous honkers. But let's forget about cyclists and get back to drivers.

I just thought of a winner. It's the guy who's behind you when you approach a bus or some other slow vehicle, moves out in the left lane and doesn't make it clear whether he's going to pass you or let you pass in front of him. He just kind of hangs out behind and to the left of your rear bumper while you approach the bus. If he zips past you, fine. If he hangs back and lets you pass, fine. But just sitting there, zoned out, thinking about his dog and how much he likes his dog and how much his dog means to him and how much meaning his dog adds to his life, well, I think we have a winner.

Rambling Thoughts on Politics

It's been several months since I've addressed the nation -- indeed, the world -- on politics.

Barack Obama

I don't know what to think about President Obama. That's not exactly a bold thing to say, is it? Trust me, I'm not afraid of using this web log to take a strong stand. I really, truly, honestly don't know what to think about him.

Torture

What bothers me so much about this is that the subject of torture has somehow migrated from right vs. wrong to left vs. right. When the Abu Ghraib photos came out, I don't recall anyone on the right saying, "Yes, we Americans are torturing our enemies, but it's yielding valuable information." No. Everyone was shocked and angry. Republicans were mad at the likes of Lyndie England, along with any partisan leftist who dared inquire whether these sordid actions were systemic mandates.

Now, the logic from an alarming number of the right is that torture is necessary to protect the country. This is further evidence that contemporary Republicans have a cowardly streak in them. Abandoning a moral code in the face of danger is cowardly.

The State of the Republican Party

Speaking of Republicans, there's a debate right now in Republican circles about the best way to return to power. The Cut Taxes/Bring It On/Remember 9/11 approach hasn't quite gotten it done recently, so what next? Should the Republicans move towards the conservative center or the extreme right?

In a two-party system, we can't afford for one of the parties to be so messed up. We need a somewhat respectable party to balance whatever ways in which the Democrats push the sliders too far to the left.

Update: Apparently, a Republican official named Lawrence Wilkerson discusses this issue of torture and the decline of the Republican party.

Likewise, what I have learned is that as the administration authorized harsh interrogation in April and May of 2002--well before the Justice Department had rendered any legal opinion--its principal priority for intelligence was not aimed at pre-empting another terrorist attack on the U.S. but discovering a smoking gun linking Iraq and al-Qa'ida.

So furious was this effort that on one particular detainee, even when the interrogation team had reported to Cheney's office that their detainee "was compliant" (meaning the team recommended no more torture), the VP's office ordered them to continue the enhanced methods. The detainee had not revealed any al-Qa'ida-Baghdad contacts yet. This ceased only after Ibn al-Shaykh al-Libi, under waterboarding in Egypt, "revealed" such contacts. Of course later we learned that al-Libi revealed these contacts only to get the torture to stop.

There in fact were no such contacts. (Incidentally, al-Libi just "committed suicide" in Libya. Interestingly, several U.S. lawyers working with tortured detainees were attempting to get the Libyan government to allow them to interview al-Libi....)

Less important but still busting my chops as a Republican, is the damage that the Sith Lord Cheney is doing to my political party.

He and Rush Limbaugh seem to be its leaders now. Lindsay Graham, John McCain, John Boehner, and all other Republicans of note seem to be either so enamored of Cheney-Limbaugh (or fearful of them?) or, on the other hand, so appalled by them, that the cat has their tongues. And meanwhile fewer Americans identify as Republicans than at any time since WWII. We're at 21% and falling--right in line with the number of cranks, reprobates, and loonies in the country.

When will we hear from those in my party who give a damn about their country and about the party of Lincoln?

When will someone of stature tell Dick Cheney that enough is enough? Go home. Spend your 70 million. Luxuriate in your Eastern Shore mansion. Shoot quail with your friends--and your friends.

Stay out of our way as we try to repair the extensive damage you've done--to the country and to its Republican Party.

-- Lawrence Wilkerson

If it's true that Americans were torturing people to uncover a link between Al Qaeda and Iraq to justify going to war, does it get uglier than that? And going back to Obama, should he help expose the torturers, or is he playing it smart by distancing himself from it? I dunno.

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On Writing Well

Even I'll admit that I haven't been writing much lately. Fortunately, I'm not the only writer in the family. Max and Luke have been composing fiction. Let's start with Max's story:

Date: April 28, 2009
Name: Max

Once upon a time, there was a big pokey ball. And the big pokey ball one day hit the ground. And then it exploded. And then they made a new one. But it was different. It was different because the inside of the other one didn't have anything in it. And the other one, it had some stuff in it, and the stuff was metal. And this time, when it hit the ground, it didn't explode. It bounced up, but it made a big hole in the ground. And it made a BIG explosion. And it made a new cloud. And the man in it, in the crane that has the ball, he wished for a wishing diamond. And one day the whole crane got broken. But they made a new one, and it was blacker. And the other one, the ball went bouncing away. So they made a new one. And this time, the metal was darker. And this time, they made a face on the crane. And then they made an even better crane. And this time the crane had two balls. One was little and one was big. And then they made a new ball, and this time the ball was orange. And it was medium sized.

The End

Fine art both invites and resists interpretation. With Max's story, it's easy to get so caught up in the rising action and falling action of the plot that you miss the underlying symbolism. The crane as a Christ figure. The pokey ball as the symbol of post-industrialism. The man in the crane as a communist sympathizer. Indeed, the conflict between capitalism and communism is no less evocative than the battle between Good and Evil. Notice the biblical style. Replace "And" with "And it came to pass," break it up into new paragraphs, and add paragraph numbering, and you have scripture.

He even uses the King James trick of pulling an adjective out of one sentence and forming a second sentence. Instead of writing, "It had some metal stuff in it," he wrote, "It had some stuff in it. And the stuff was metal." No, concerned prigs and marms, that sentence does not need to "be tightened." It's majestic. It's emphatic. The metal is significant. Think about the metal. Ponder it. Revel in it, you sinning fascist. While doing so, notice the sexual imagery, and notice that the sexual imagery is underlying.

Like all art, Max's story is open to multiple interpretations. However, it's important not to get so caught up in critical conjecture that you dismiss the story. It is a story that is not real, but is reality itself. It does not mean, but is.

Now, on to Luke's story:

Date: April 28, 2009
Name: Luke

Once upon a time there was a horse. And it couldn't talk.

The End

I feel the same way about post-modernism that I feel about hip-hop music. When will this derivative self-parody be recognized as the fad it is and go away like disco? I don't want to be too hard on Luke, because he's a young writer with plenty of promise, but anyone can do that kind of thing. "Once upon a time there was a red wheelbarrow, and it wasn't glazed in rain water. The end." Please. I prefer his neo-post-Colonial fiction.

Tax Day

On April 15, 1452, Leonardo DaVinci was born. Leonardo painted the Mona Lisa and served as the inspiration for a mutant ninja turtle.

On April 15, 1843, Henry James was born. Shortly after his entrance into the world, he is reported to have said, "Indeed."

On April 15, 1861, the American Civil War started. Abraham Lincoln declared there was an insurrection uprising and called out union troops. The South would have won that war had they not run outta amnition.

On April 15, 1865, Abraham Lincoln was assassinated in what must be the disappointing performance by an actor in a theater.

On April 15, 1912, the Titanic took a little more than 2 1/2 hours to sink. With 2,223 people on board, the lifeboats had the capacity for 1,178 passengers, but only 706 survived. 1,517 people died, including a young man named Jack, who could not float on the same piece of wood as his new girlfriend and thus sunk dead, reaching skyward. His heart still goes on.

On April 15, 1947, Jackie Robinson made his debut for the Brooklyn Dodgers. Unfortunately, black people are no longer all that interested in baseball.

On April 15, 2009, you have to pay your taxes to the United States government.

I Want You

Bob Dylan's "I Want You" is one of my favorite songs, only not when Dylan sings it. Don't get me wrong -- I think Dylan is a fine performer, and Blonde on Blonde is one of my favorite albums. It's just that Dylan's version of "I Want You" is a bit too folky or melancholy or flat or boring. In the context of Blonde on Blonde, it's perfectly decent.



At least two other singers have done better renditions.

In the original broadcast of Bob Dylan's 30th Anniversary Special, someone named Sophie B. Hawkins did an excellent cover of "I Want You" that came closer to fulfilling the divine nature of what the song could have been had not Bob Dylan flattened the song. For some reason likely related to a financial dispute, Hawkins' version isn't on the video or the album. Hey, here it is:



While reading a book about Bruce Springsteen called Born to Run, I read that Bruce did a version of this song as well. Twitterpated, I had to skip my fatherly duties and go find it. This is especially bad because today is Wendy's birthday, and I'm ignoring everyone to hunt down Mr. Springsteen's version. Here's Bruce Springsteen's version, which contains the appropriate degree of longing:

The Quorum of the Twelve Apostates

I get Google Alerts to track what's going on in the InDesign world. One of the hits was about an awkward typo that caused the BYU school newspaper to be pulled off the racks and reprinted -- more than 18,000 copies.

This Deseret News article has the details:

After a day of student interviews and reviewing audit trails, Evans said he believes the gaffe ironically occurred during a spell check. The Daily Universe was using Adobe software called InDesign, which, when it found the word apostle misspelled as "apsotale," suggested "apostate" at the top of its correction list.

"She quickly clicked on the first (suggestion) and moved on," Evans said. "A real unfortunate mistake."

The Deseret News, which also uses the InDesign software, replicated the misspelling and found that Adobe's software does suggest apostate before apostle; Microsoft Word offers it in reverse order.

Imagine how heart-broken I am that my beloved software could inspire such a demonic mistake. InDesign, failing to recognize the sacred nature of an apsotale, offered "apostate" before "apostle." The bleary-eyed student editor, likely late for an Uno game, was so inveigled by InDesign that she picked the first suggested word. Not coincidentally, InDesign has six menu commands and six default panels. Version 6, that is.

According to school officials, there is nothing amusing about this sad, costly, non-Freudian mishap. However, several apsotales were indeed amused. Yeah, verily, they did snicker.

A Breakdown: Moab vs. St. George

Coke vs. Pepsi. Pacino vs. DeNiro. Sopranos vs. The Wire. Luke vs. Max. Some epic battles can be decided only with a Dr. Jack-style breakdown a la Bill Simmons. Let's get right to it.

REPUTATION

When you say you're going mountain biking in Moab, that carries a lot of weight with the average cyclist. It's like saying you're going skiing in Vail. Sure, Steamboat Springs may have better terrain, and Alta may have better snow, but Vail has the name.

If I'm going biking in Moab, I tell people I'm going to Moab. If I'm going biking in St. George, I tell people I'm going to Southern Utah, or I'm going biking near Zion's National Park. Doesn't have the same weight.

Strong Edge: Moab

LOCATION

St. George requires a lot more travel than Moab. For one thing, Moab is a little over three hours from Racer's Bike shop in Provo, whereas St. George takes an hour longer to get there.

Of course, you rarely drive to St. George. Usually, you -- and by you I mean me and my buddies -- drive straight to Gooseberry Mesa through Hurricane. And if you want to do a ride away from Gooseberry, you have to drive back along a bumpy dirt road for at least 30 minutes to get to the next trailhead. That's a lot of car time, which is fine unless Dug is playing the Sensitive Guy playlist on his iPod, which includes, but is not limited to, the Indigo Girls.

Here's another drawback to St. George. The epic "St. George" rides are actually an hour away from St. George. On the other hand, the Moab rides are all close to town. Whether you're staying in a hotel in town or camping near Slickrock, you're within a 20-minute drive on paved roads to practically any trailhead.

It's looking like a Strong Edge win for Moab, right? Not so fast.

Being in St. George forces us to camp. And the camping in St. George is fantastic. For one thing, not many people camp next to the windmill, so there's plenty of firewood all around. We're so far away from town that we can see the stars in their full Milky Way glory. Plus, Brad will get his yurts built soon, so the camping will be even better. At Moab, you have to bring your own firewood if you're camping, and it doesn't feel as remote.

Upon further review, the superior camping in St. George isn't enough to offset all that extra car time.

Strong Edge: Moab

CROWDS

Moab is usually so crowded that it's sometimes frustrating to be there in the Spring or Fall, which is why we made a habit of doing Fall Moab in the first week of November, when the crowds have died off enough. Hotel rooms are available and the wait for restaurants is minimal.

When we went to St. George last week during Spring Break, we saw only a dozen or so riders during the four rides we did in three days. I guarantee Moab was so packed that weekend that there would have been a waiting line to drop into the bowl at Slickrock. Not to mention a 45-minute wait outside Moab Brewery.

Strong Edge: St. George

THE BIG SATURDAY RIDE

It's about time we discuss the actual riding. While the most famous ride in Moab is Slickrock, Gold Bar Rim is the ride we pick to do on Saturday. It's got everything -- rolling singletrack, ledge drops, ledge climbs, a top-notch crux move, which I'll discuss later, and plenty of trail options. You can make it a there-and-back ride, or you can drop down the Portal Trail or Poison Spider Mesa.

On the other hand, Gooseberry Mesa in St. George has rolling singletrack, ledge drops, ledge climbs, a couple of decent crux moves, and plenty of trail options. Plus, it has the otherworldly section through Hidden Canyon, where you duck your head below overhanging rock formations.

I need a tiebreaker. Let's try this. When the cars pull up to the trailhead, and everyone is pulling their bikes off the racks and getting ready to ride, where am I more excited? Gooseberry or Goldbar? Interestingly, the two rides with the highest tingle factor for me are Tibble Fork and Slickrock. So that doesn't help.

This one is just too close to call.

Edge: Even

THE 'B' RIDES

For the Friday afternoon/Sunday morning rides, Moab has Porcupine Rim, Slickrock, Amasa Back, the highly overrated Flat Pass, and a few other obscure gems like the Sovereign Trail and Moab Rim, which is no longer an option on singlespeeds.

St. George has Little Creek, where I ride -- and frankly there's no other word to describe it -- heroically. That's right. I ride heroically there. There's also the Jem/Gould loop, which includes the greatest one-mile stretch of singletrack I've ever been on. This is not an exaggeration. I was laughing while sprinting through this winding bobsled run. It was thrilling adventure. Unfortunately, I'm built like a Weeble right now, so I paid for my outburst during the rest of the 26-mile desert ride.

St. George also has the Zen Trail right in town. By the way, while riding the Zen Trail, I pulled up to a resting point where the other riders had gathered and announced that I felt like I'd reached a state beyond fear and desire. No one responded. Frankly, I thought that deserved at least a token laugh.

Slight Edge: Moab

MEMORIES

I've been going to Moab at least once a year now since the early '90s. I remember sharing a bed with Stuart and waking up soaking wet in what I mistakenly thought was my own urine. I remember getting so upset when I found out my friends did a new ride they'd promised not to do that I became a belligerent drunk that evening and was nearly thrown into a creek. I remember letting my friends convince me to perform a belly dance by the campfire. That's a lot of memories in Moab.

Strong Edge: St. George

THE CRUX MOVES

Now that we ride singlespeed bikes, crux moves aren't as important. Crux moves used to be a good way to measure your biking skills. We'd all gather around a place and take turns trying the move and busting chops. We still do that, but not as often, and not as long. The singlespeed riding lends itself more to cruising along the trail in a road-like rhythm.

The best crux moves at Moab are the Triple-Ledge move at Gold Bar, the aptly named Crux Move near the top of Amasa Back, and a handful of others at Slickrock.

The best crux moves at St. George are the Toilet Bowl and Sidewinder moves at Gooseberry and the Double-Ledge Canyon move at Little Creek.

Edge: Even

FINAL VERDICT

Here's the bottom line. If I go mountain biking anywhere in the world -- Fruita, CO, Bend, OR, Durango, CO, Asheville, NC, Squamish, BC, or some Alpine town in Germany, I'd compare that place to Moab. Not St. George. So while St. George is in the same league as Moab, I'm afraid I can't call it the champ.

That title belongs to Moab.

I am Bob. I have spoken.

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Throw-away Post

The three actresses who look most alike are Emily Watson, Miranda Otto, and Emily Mortimer. I can't tell the difference between them. In fact, if someone told me it was the same actress who doesn't want to risk overexposure, I'd look skeptically and say, "Really?"

The two actors who look most alike are Christopher Meloni and Elias Koteas. If I see one of those guys in a movie, I'd ask if that's the guy from one of those detective shows or if it's the guy from that other war movie.

That's right. That's the end of this message. When I get some free time, I'm going to do a lengthy comparison of mountain bike trails in St. George and Moab. It's surprisingly close.

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