Pappa Hardy’s Musings on Life.

This weekend we are going to Cheyenne to see the kids.  We haven’t been for a while and that should be fun.  However, the dreaded “p” word has been used.  Yes, we have to pack.  I told everyone yesterday they needed to get packed.  Well, Bonnie got it done in the time frame that she was supposed to have done it in.  I went up to here and half jokingly said, where is my stuff.  She didn’t find that funny.  I thought it was OK to ask if she had done my stuff, after all, isn’t that what your spouse is for, to take care of your half of the bargain why you set back and admire the scenery.  I just didn’t understand her response, which was to ask me why I hadn’t done it.  Women!

Some people are there for you when the going gets tough. I suspect that anyone of us that have been around long enough in this modern, cold, age of ours have had experiences where we have lost a job, been threatened by some organization, or just feel the world is against us. Bob Smith has been there for me.

Bob is a different guy, as my family will often say. However, he was there for me when the going got tough, and he helped the tough get going. He supported me through job transitions, through challenges to my sanity, and he has been a steady ally during my battle of the bulge. He has been there for me, and for that I will ever be grateful to him.

Our visit to New Orleans was interesting, particularly what you see on the freeway going into New Orleans from the airport. It seems like you see mile after mile of above ground cemetarys. While the rumor is that they use mauseloeums because New Orleans is too low to bury people, the reason I read while in town is that many of the original settlers brought with them a history of burying people in structures above ground.

As for me, I have told them that when I die, I don’t want too much done for me. I just told them I want to be buried in a pyramid like the Pharohs of old. I want it huge, with places inside for my body and the bodies of my friends or families that want to be there with me. I want a computer program hooked up to DVD and projection system, and want my favorite movies playing 24/7 there, along with music from my favorite musical pieces, etc., and so on. I know that is kind of morbid, but I figure I want to be put away in style.

Well, I keep trying to loose weight and I continue to fight the battle.  It is a war, not a battle.  I am going to have to take the approach that I will take no prisoners.  That is what I did when I was starting this diet last year.  However, recently I have been flirting with the enemy and I just can’t afford to do that.  I must take no prisoners.  I must not fraternize with the enemy.  I must be one way or the other.  I am either in, or I am out.  That is the way I have to fight this battle.

I have been overweight a long time. It all started, even before I met this beautiful woman who really knows how to cook. It started when I was even younger, when I developed a real taste for eating. I know I would eat a lot on my mission. However, I had a period of time when I lost a lot of weight because I got food poisoning. When I got married, I steadily gained weight for most of my adult life.

Now, I have had some success in loosing weight. It gets tougher each day it seems. First, I am tired of eating only very little, and I tend to binge if I am home where I can reach something to eat. Secondly, I enjoy food so much I want to eat, and eat, and then eat some more. I like nearly everything.

This weekend has been particularly bad. It is like I can’t control myself at home. I think of every rationalization for going ahead and eating. I know in order to rage an effective battle, you have to know how to treat yourself and when. This weekend has been ridiculous however. I want to lose just another 15 pounds, and then I believe I will have reached the weight I want to be at and I want to sustain it there. However, being home has been a challenge. If this weekend has been any indication of what is happening, I must be loosing “The Battle of the Bulge”.

Had an interesting experience recently. We stayed in the Chateau Duprex. It is an older building in what is known as the “French Quarter” of New Orleans. The French Quarter is the set of old buildings and structures, which is made most famous by Bourbon Street. Mardi Gras comes here once a year. There is reveling, carrying on, and all kinds of activities that occur.

On the net, the hotel looked like it was OK. However, the difference in cost between this place and the Sheraton had made me a little wary. Once we got there (the four of us that was traveling together), we knew we had a problem. The section of town that we were in was not quite as nice, and the rooms and appointments were not good at all. We had made a mistake.

The rooms were easily 150 years old. They were in mixed shape. The place was noisy all night long, and we experienced horns honking, people screaming and yelling, and I think we all somewhat feared for our lives.

The French Quarter itself was somewhat the same. There were places that had architecture that was just incredible. Some of those places were well kept up. Others however were not as good. As we wandered the place, I took the group into the “infamous” French Quarter. Being a group of fine, upstanding Latter-Day Saints, that was the wrong thing to do. We were on a short section that had topless venues, live sex acts to be witnessed, and anything else you might or might not be able to imagine. Soddom and Gomorrah revisted. I got them off of the street in a hurry.

I wonder what depravity we as a nation have lowered ourselves to. Of course, somewhere on this planet this kind of thing has always been available. Regardless, we over one street found wonderful shops and art and it was amazing just how much variety we were finding in the French Quarter. The French Quarter was certainly unique.

We had a great group that we were with.  There was Carolyn Bowman from the Chamber of Commercie, then Tim Morganson, a local businessman and food connisure, and then Bonnie and I.  We had a great time together.

I saw a most beautiful site tonight.  Julie and I were witnessing the Mormon Miracle Pageant which is performed at the base of the Manti Temple.  We were sitting on the large expansive lawn on the south side, looking up at the Temple as the sun began to set and twilight came upon us.

As the light faded in the west, it glowed on the Western side of the temple.  What was already just a gorgeous site (that is, the temple on the hill) became almost magical.  It caused the western side of the temple almost to glow.  I felt as if somehow I had been taken up to heaven, witnessing a heavenly body reflect the light of God.  It was a very moving and spiritual time for me.  I hope that I can carry that memory with me for a long time.

Well, wouldn’t you know it, yesterday was the longest day of the year and I almost missed it.  I was on my way to the “Manager’s Meeting” that I so like in Orem, when what should I hear but on the radio they were talking about today being the first day of summer.  As part of that discussion, they reported on the radio that every year on the first day of summer a whole lot of people tend to show up at Stonehenge in Great Britain, and they see the sun rise.  Moreover (and I didn’t understand this part of the report) sometimes they end up having a big fight at that place, on the first day of summer.  All I know is that I spent the first day of summer in a golf cart, swinging and chasing a ridiculous ball around the golf course.  About the only other thing I can say about that rite of the first day of summer (a golf tournament) is that some people take the game of golf way to seriously.  Perhaps they would say of me that I don’t take it seriously enough.  I do know that at least six of my golf balls found a permanent resting place, somewhere on that course where I couldn’t find them.  Perhaps they were tired of being hit around.  I don’t know.  I did survive though.

Today I have a managers meeting to attend.  That is political enough, as we have to be there, support the company line with lots of enthusiasm, and let them know we are 100% behind the group.  However, today is also the annual Regional Golf Tournament.  Now, don’t misunderstand me, I love to golf.  Golf is a lot of fun, if it isn’t a situation where you feel you are under a glass bottle.  Today, all of my shortcomings (and there are many) in this game will be scrutinized and out there for all to see.  I am only doing this because it is the “politically correct” thing to do.  I haven’t golfed much in the last three years, and it is going to be evident to those I am playing with.  I am not going to have fun today.

Its tough getting older.  Pain is the toughest part of all.  Bonnie and I (don’t forget Julie was there too) were to a family get together last night.  Bonnie could barely walk because of pain she was suffering from.  We don’t know if it is a pinched nerve, a disk, or what.  However, it isn’t visible to the naked eye.  Getting a bug you understand more, we all get that.  When we age, it isn’t so easy and otherwise she looks perfectly OK.  I know more of that is coming our way and I am not looking forward to this.  Why can’t it get easier rather than harder as we get older?