Christmas Eve Mad Gab

If each of you could see inside my blogger dashboard you would notice that I am collecting half written blog drafts. They each start out as some brilliant composition but inexplicably fade into nothing after one or two paragraphs. I may eventually resurrect them into an official blog... only time will tell. I never thought blog writers block was possible but apparently it is. I have recently talked to a few fellow bloggers recently who lament their inability to come up with a good subject to write about. My advice was "don't worry about it so much just write!" In my mind if there is one place for random thoughts and not worrying about thinsg likee typos and evry thang being perfact thiss is it!

The other day I was remembering a funny memory involving Jack my brother, a motorcycle, and the game Mad Gab. If you haven't played it, it goes like this. One player reads cards that have popular sayings on them except they are spelled differently with weird accents and stuff. For example:

"Ahh Mode Her Cicle" is "a motorcycle".

So I have decided to invent some of my own... sound them out and see if you can figure them out.

1. "Cat Tee Ass Uh Bug Bally Ha Meal Ton"

2. "Hippee Burt Dai Fid Up"

3. "Hi Day Iz Uh PreeTay Crust Muss Far Aye"

4. "Look Iza Fraid of Sun Tack Laws"

5. "Eye Luff Mi Gant Fum Alee"


Merry Christmas Everyone!!!

Anniversary

Ten years ago I entered the Provo MTC for my mission to England and initiated the most significant experiences of my life. It is difficult to blog about this subject because I really have no words to describe my feelings and experiences. I remember after coming home people would ask me "How was your misssion?" I never knew how to answer this question. My real response was much too profound and thoughtful to provide some casual small talker. So I usually would say simply, "It was amazing." I was re-reading my journal from 10 years ago and I noticed two things, one I was such an immature 19 year old and two I WAS SUCH AN IMMATURE 19 YEAR OLD!

11-29-07 Journal excerpt
Sorry I 've been bad about writing lately. But things have been great. Thanksgiving here was really good. There were some awesome talks, all the MTC presidency spoke. then I went to more talks on the apsotasy and restoration. I learned so much! I took like 6 pages of notes! Then we did laundry and I lost my wallet which included temple recommend, $40, drivers license. Why am I so prone to losing things? Well I prayed really hard to find it and a friend of mine from high school found it and returned it to the front desk. hurray!

How the Lord did anything with me back then I'll never know. But I suppose it is a testimony to how much the He does with punk kids and how those punks can change so much in a few years. Regardless I can say that on my mission I came to know God and myself. I was forced into a situation where I had to give up and rely wholly upon a higher power. In that giving up I found peace and freedom. Sitting here typing a decade later so much has changed. My mission experiences haunt me in a way. I feel that I will live the remainder of my life working to live up to the principles and truths that embraced me there.

Here is to another 10 years... I'll keep you posted on my progression.

PS-I lost my wallet yesterday and I am still praying...

Running kills you?

I have been running across a lot of stories of runners dying from heart attacks. what is going on?

ps. I tried to figure out how to do links but i gave up....


http://www.newsday.com/news/local/newyork/ny-nymara045446238nov04,0,811859.story

http://www.usatoday.com/sports/olympics/2007-06-30-3910860095_x.htm

Pee-tah Pan snoozin

Luke has taken it to the next level.

Having trouble posting

I have to admit... I am having trouble posting anything because that picture of Luke is so freakin cute. Anything I post that lowers that photo and story to the blog archives is just gonna be lame.

Papa Travis Short Stories

For those of you who don't know I am a super duper ultra mega "Luke" fan. I border on annoying (even to my wife) when talking about how crazy happy my little boy makes me. At least several times a day I feel like I will spontaneously combust. I know part of it stems from my own struggle "growing up" and like the Robin Williams Peter Pan from the bizarre film "Hook" my happy thought really is being a Dad and is the only way I cope with adulthood.

So the following is a collection of some short accounts of my life with Luke. Let me know your fave.

"Peter Pan Sleep Aid"
Over recent weeks Luke has developed an obsession with Peter Pan. On some days he will only allow us to call him Peter (In a british accent by the way.. Pee-tah) Heidi is "Tink", and I am "Hook". Well of course he is going to be Pan for Halloween and Heidi being the skilled artisan she is made his costume. His favorite detail of the outfit is the belt and scabbard for his knife. He has progressed into using an actual toy knife. For weeks he used a medicine dropper that he tucked it into his diaper. The only problem with this is he is so passionate about his Peter Pan stuff it makes him naughty. One night we put him to bed without his Pan gear because he was being so bad. He ended up crying and crying. After about 90 minutes I went in and knelt by his bed... he proceeded to grab both sides of my face and with all the sincerity he could muster looked at me and said "Dada please, dada please Pee-tah Pan sword. Please."

Of course I relented, gave him his knife and scabbard and left the room. I walked into a silent room 60 seconds later to find this picture. He was out like a light.

"BM Breath"
Over the course of Luke's two and a half years I have had the opportunity of changing a few diapers. I am one of those dads that is willing to get down and dirty when needed. (sidenote: I have a few friends who have never changed their kids diapers... how did they pull that one off?) Well as most parents know, once the deed is done there is an immediate panic to dispose of the used diaper as fast as possible. I am particularly careful about where these dirty bombs end up so my typical routine is to drop it into a plastic bag, tie it, and then stick it in the outside garbage. This scenario seems harmless to the untrained but pay attention... once you place the diaper in the plastic bag and tie it you are left with a plastic bag poop balloon, because as you tie the top of the bag it retains the air. I repeat no matter how tempted you are, DO NOT squeeze the bag to get the air out. If you do, you will receive a shot of musty, warm, stink air. I kid you not, if poop had breath this would be it. I unfortunately have not heeded my own advice. Just the other day I did it not thinking and I received such a shot of BM breath that my head jerked violently and hit the side of the wall.

Heidi thought it was hilarious.


"Dad"
From a very early age Luke began testing out his terms for me. His current list contains, Travis, Dada, Dad, and Hook. However recently he only calls me "dad" with kind of a direct and forceful tone. This concerns me because he is ONLY 2 YEARS OLD! At this rate I will be reduced to "Travis" by the time he is 7, "Mr. Snyder" by the time he is 12, and "that old guy" by the time he is 16!

I still remember making the transition from Daddy and Mommy to Dad and Mom myself. It was a big deal to me! My older sister started calling them the shortened versions a few years earlier and I was so distraught when she did I had a conversation with her about it. Oh well he still loves me just in more professional way.


future stories:
"My Onesie Obsession"
"Workday"

Fall in the canyon

Me and my boy up the canyon behind our house. Winter can be a real pain, but getting there sure is beautiful.

Stream of Consciousness

Advanced Warning: This is a stream of consciousness blog and there will be no organization, unecessary punctuation, and forethought to the words that will follow. You will therefore be without a filter and fully exposed to the random thoughts of my brain.

Read if you dare....

So i have insomnia. It's like the moment I know I am supposed to sleep i can't. the irony is that I am exhausted all day? go figure. Last night Luke wouldn't go to bed and i was lacking the energy for parental discipline so we watched a movie and he spent the full 2 hours crawling all over me, jumping, wrestling, and sitting on my head. I think we finally crashed around 2am. In the end i was grateful for the company and memories of his crazy eyes looking at me asking for more pretzels.

(Feist "i feel it all" is playing on itunes right now. A good tune for anyone interested.)

The project wars took place over the weekend. Heidi got a nice bee in her bonnet to spend the days canning fruit! I have a love hate relationship with this. For 3-4 days the kitchen is wreck and I feel like my house is a small production factory. to complicate matters I decided to make the same weekend a home improvement opportunity. our kitchen had no backsplash and as the name implies there is some splashing that takes place particularly behind the sink. with me being OCD I couldn't take it anymore as the dry wall and paint was looking funky. we finally chose a tile style and layout we were happy with and i proceeded to make it happen. Picture Heidi and I rotating in the kitchen as she cuts and boils fruit while I carefully place tiles on the wall. this environment is a hotbed for couple meltdown but miraculously we came out of the weekend unscathed!

Now there are lovely cans of fruit on the counter with a nice tile backplash backdrop. go team treidi.

Luke was not to be out done by our projects as he obsessed over his puzzles. He has become some kind of puzzle dynamo over the last few weeks. he sits on the wood floor in between the kitchen and front room and does his puzzles over and over again. He is so concentrated that he breathes heavy while he does them... he is up to 5-8 year old puzzles. Not bad for a little scrappy two year old. If only he could apply this apparent intellect to potty training... I think he just doesn't feel like it yet. it's like , "look dad i have my whole life to wear big boy undies and use the potty. why be in a rush? I'll get to it when I'm ready."

i am happy with the resurgence of blog writing by myself and other friends and family. For some reason it is easier to get to the real substance of what is going on with each other. we don't have to waste time calling and saying...

so...
how is it going?
good and you?
oh fine.... well... what's new?
not much you?


my stream has dried up I'm outta here.

Timing Markets

In the early 1900's a man named Bernard Baruch ruled the New york stock Exchange. He became an investing legend and ended up advising several US presidents. Well, during the 1920's there was a stock market craze going on and one morning on the way to work Baruch stopped for a shoe shine. As he sat there the guy working on his shoes started giving him stock tips. Baruch didn't say a word to the man but simply stood up, walked to his office and sold his entire portfolio. Of course the market crashed soon after.

So what does this story mean? It means that when someone in a "shoeshiner position" has been educated into an investment strategy enough to be giving advice it is probably a sign that the market has run it's course. I have recently experienced this phenomena in the wild world of Real Estate. We moved from California about a year ago when the market was beginning to soften and it was so fascinating because while there I watched people go crazy about real estate, everyone was either a loan officer, agent, investor, or remodel house flipper (including myself). Over the last year in Utah I have observed the same pattern. Everyone here is drunk on the 100k they "made" in house appreciation. So they are building spec houses, remodeling, buying building lots, and just plain going crazy!

I think I was fortunate to have just witnessed the California slow down so I was a bit less agressive here. Well about two months ago I was at a friends house and I had a "Baruch shoe shine" moment. My friend had 3 or 4 buddies over who were pretty young and uneducated and they started giving me real estate investing advice. They each had several spec homes being built and other projects going. I ended up not saying a word about my own experience but when the encounter ended I was consumed with the desire to sell anything and everything to get out of the market.

With the recent events of the lending industry being on it's ear and foreclosures at a higher rate today than during the great depression it's obvious that things have run their course on the recent boom. Everyone has to remember to ask themselves when they hear about some money making investment strategy, "Am I at the beginning, middle, or end of this trend?" Bottom line... to time an investing market you have to buy low and sell high. You know you have reached the "low" or beginning of a market trend when prices are down and there isn't some buzz going around. You are at the end or "high" of the trend when everyone and their dog is doing it.

By the way how many house flipping shows are on TV right now? I lost track after the flip this house and flip that house came on the air:)

Blog addition... here is the ugly uniform I referenced in the blog below. Yes they look like dark blue pajamas with white bibs. It was horrible. Compare it with the classic uni below... no contest.

The Prodigal BYU Football Son

I have recently experienced a great irony... I like BYU football again.

I never would have thought it possible... but it is true. Growing up I loved it. A performance of the Cougar "Ra Ra" fight song was required to go to bed at night. But something happened in the intervening years between my dad standing over my bed at night pumping his fist to my tenure at school there from 2001 to 2005.

I despised the football team.

From their state of the art indoor practice field to their exclusive Locker room and restaurant they made me crazy. Coincidentally this is also the time period that some genius thought to change the traditional uniforms to some variation of gold and ultra dark navy blue. (hint: they were very ugly) Maybe it was a reflection of jealousy on my part but the players represented everything my school experience was not... easy, glamorous, and full of hand outs. They definitely seemed to be governed by a different set of rules than me as I slaved at my campus job, studied my guts out, and stressed if i forgot to shave that day.

Well, for this season my Dad invited me to the kick off game against Arizona. There I was in section 00 seat 24 looking at the player's in the old uniforms and listening to my Dad chant the familiar fight song.... It was back. I was definitely into it. They even retired one of my old school favorite's number, the legend, Ty Detmer. I left the game hoarse from yelling and have since frequented a host of websites dedicated to cougar fans. I now know all the players names, stats, and I have even put my boy to bed a few nights with a certain fight song. The prodigal returns.

Rise and shout the cougars are out.