Blog Break

I haven't blogged in a while and I need a short break from an assignment I'm working on, so here are some short points:

• On Wednesday I decided to have a look at my sister Amy's blog and SURPRISE! - she had her baby on Tuesday, one Gideon David Omer. That was a totally unexpected way to find out about it. He is their third child (my 10th nephew/niece total), and this was the first time that I wasn't there at the hospital with the Omers when the baby was delivered. I guess I could have made it to the hospital with enough advance notice - according to Mapquest it's only about a 33 hour drive from Ann Arbor to Moorpark, California. It's a little abstract right now that I have a new nephew since they're so far away and I haven't seen any pictures yet, but I talked to Amy on the phone last night and I heard li'l Giddy (what's the nickname for Gideon? Gid? Deon? We'll have to figure that one out) crying in the background, so I guess her story checks out.

• This has been a really heavy rehearsal week for me. In previous weeks we had been staging the first half of our upcoming opera, Postcard from Morocco, and it was easy because my character didn't have that much singing or elaborate staging. This week, however, we've been staging the second half, where my character hardly stops singing. Learning the staging has been fine, but the music is just plain difficult and the other singer with whom I share the role (the whole show is double cast, so I do 2 performances, he does 2 performances) was out of town, so I had to fill in for him and do twice as much rehearsing. Factor in all the other stuff I've got going on this week and I have just been exhausted. Fortunately, next week is spring break and I'll have no rehearsal at all. I cannot wait for the break. I just have to make it through tomorrow, because...

• I have a paper due tomorrow that I really should be working on instead of writing this blog. Blog break's over. Back to work.

Happy Momday!

Today is my mom's birthday, so this year, in lieu of getting her a Mounds bar (that was always the default present that all my siblings and I got for her when we were little - my dad's was black licorice), I'm dedicating this blog post to my mom.

There are a lot of reasons why I love my mom: she loves movies like "Babe," and we both cried at the new "Charlotte's Web"; she's still following the Jazz closely even though I've moved away and we talk about the Jazz when she calls; she's saved the program from every performance I've done since junior high; she loves to find any excuse to go to "The Mandarin" (one of the best Chinese restaurants around, conveniently located in Bountiful). But the thing I love most about her is her unshakable faith in the Savior. She is a great example of someone who lives her life according to the gospel of Jesus Christ. I owe everything that I am to the and lifestyle she passed on to me.

I went to a baptism yesterday for Dore, a freshman at the U of M who is a music student like me. This was actually the third baptism our ward has had in the last two months, and all three people are female students around 20 years old (or so I would guess). They have all been great additions to the ward with their strong testimonies and active participation in church services. All three of them were present at the baptism yesterday, and as I listened to the speakers I scanned the room and looked at Dore, Wei, and Mackenzie, I thought about my mom.

My mom also joined the church when she was in college, and like my new friends in the ward, she had no other family members who were part of the church. At the time she was baptized, it may have seemed like a relatively small thing for a lone 20-something girl to decide to join the church, yet it is by small and simple things are great things brought to pass. Flash forward to the present, and that lone girl is a mother to four children and a grandmother to ten (well, nine right now, but it will be ten really, really soon) who are all strong members of the church.

Generations of faith - Mom and Dad + 9 grandkids at Yellowstone

I am so grateful to her that she had the courage to follow her heart and the promptings of the Spirit to become a member of this church and to pass her faith and testimony along to her children. As I glanced at those three girls at the baptism, I hoped that all of them could end up like my mom and become the anchor of generations of faithful followers of Christ.

I love you, Mom. Have a great birthday.

Audition Season

It's the height of audition season here at the University of Michigan and every Friday the school of music is crawling with hundreds of well-dressed, naïve-looking, perpetually lost people. Last week my bishop put some of my friends and me in contact with an LDS girl who auditioned for the same program I'm doing (Doctor of Musical Arts [DMA] in vocal performance), so I spent some time with her over a couple of days talking her through the audition process, answering her questions about the program, and showing her a couple of places around town.

All of this got me reminiscing about my audition here last year and my decision to come here. My audition was on February 2 - I remember because the first thing I said at my audition as I walked out on stage was "Happy Groundhog Day!" (That got the judge's collective attention - I saw about 6 heads that had been buried in notebooks whip up simultaneously.) The audition went well, but I didn't exactly fall in love with the place (especially the weather - I think they deliberately put the auditions in February to weed out the weaklings who can't handle the cold). But they made me an offer I couldn't refuse and so here I am today.

The first couple of months here were pretty rough for me - I felt like I was in the wrong program at the wrong place. But that feeling passed after a while, and now I feel like I'm in just the right spot for me. The program's going well for me, I have a cool role in the opera (Postcard from Morocco, March 21 & 23 if you're interested), and I really love the town of Ann Arbor. But most of all, I love my friends from church here. I cannot emphasize enough how much I love my ward. Everyone is so wonderful in so many different ways and people plan fun gathering and activities all the time. I never get lonely or bored because there's always people to hang out with. A part of me feels like I needed to come to school here because I needed to be in this ward. So to all you Hill Streeters out there reading this, I want you to know I love yer guts. Thanks for being awesome friends.

(Whoa - this post took a really syrupy turn at the end. I didn't see that one coming.)

Life with Conrad

I had a lot of free time this afternoon, and I planned to get a bunch of important things done. Instead, I ended up organizing my old Nintendo cartridges. For quite some time now I've been storing them all in a big cardboard box and it was such a big mess that I had to dig around for 10 minutes to find the game I wanted to play. I'd even forgotten about some of my more obscure games. So today I just dumped the box out on the floor, and I was astonished at how many cartridges there were - 82 total. I divided them into two groups , one elite group for the most prized of my collection (all the Marios, the Zeldas, the Castlevanias, Metroid, Battletoads, etc.), and then another group for all the rest, and then I alphabetized them. But I couldn't resist taking a picture atop all my games before organizing them - I felt just like Scrooge McDuck swimming around in the Money Bin.

I love my old Nintendo. I bought him when I was 9 years old with money that I worked for months and months to earn. I raised $100, and my dad was so surprised that I had managed to earn that much that he pitched in the extra money to get the deluxe edition with the Power Pad and Zapper (both of which I still have). The home movie of me busting out my Nintendo for the first time has become a Tanner Family classic, boasting such classic lines as "This is the happiest day of my life" and "It's like an awcade fow yow house" (I had trouble with 'r's as a youngster). I gave my Nintendo the name Conrad and I used to celebrate his birthday every August (I've forgotten the exact date - I think it was somewhere in the 20s). I've never bought another video game console after Conrad, and he's still going strong after almost 18 years. The two of us still kick some serious butt at Dr. Mario.

I love adding to my game collection - I probably bought 15 games last year. Back in Utah I used to hit various locations of Greywhale every week or so to see if anything good had come in. You'd think that here in Ann Arbor there would be a lot of stores that would carry vintage items like NES games, but there's only one place I know of (Get Your Game On, on Packard near State), and they seriously overcharge.

My roommate Seth pointed out to me during the alphabetizing process that today my entire collection would fit on a single flash drive. True, but there's something very special about having the actual cartridge. It's so real and special. If anyone wants to be my best friend forever and/or my BFF, they can help me fill some of my collection's biggest holes - Contra, Bionic Commando, and Bubble Bobble (my birthday's in less than a month, wink wink).


P.S. - Big shout out to Caleb and Julie for putting all the old Tanner home videos on DVD. I watched the aforementioned home movie a few weeks ago. Man, was I a dorky little kid. Come to think of it, I haven't changed all that much since then. I still play with Conrad, at least.

Impromptu Shopping Trip

On Saturday I was in the computer lab at the school of music, minding my own business, when Stephanie Rhodes came in and sat next to me. We chatted for a little bit, and she told me that she was upset because her friend had stood her up for their pedicure date. She said that it was supposed to be her day to relax and do girlie stuff, like get a pedicure or go to the mall. I thought for a minute and then said, "I could go to the mall with you."

So off we went to the fabulous Briarwood Mall for a magical day of shopping. I don't really go shopping all that much, so Stephanie gave me a tutorial on what stores to hit and what's in style for winter (if I'm not mistaken, it is "jewel tones"). She bought a new outfit to wear to church the next day, and since I had a woman of style and taste with me, I asked her to help me pick out a new church outfit for myself as well. Here are the results, as worn the next day:

(Stephanie - new shirt & skirt; Brian - new shirt & tie)

To finish off the trip, Stephanie treated me to my first-ever Cinnabon, which is, according to her, the essential capstone of any successful shopping trip.

(My first Cinnabon - plus a new sweater I bought that day for 5 bucks)

Another highlight of the trip came while we were looking around H&M and Stephanie got an international call from 'The Celtic Tenors,' asking her to go on tour with them for a few weeks. Apparently they are kind of a big deal and they offered her a bunch of money. Maybe that's why she was feeling generous enough to get me that Cinnabon.

Jazz Streak

The Utah Jazz won their 10th straight game last night in a overtime thriller on the road against division rival Denver. After a disappointing start to the season they have completely turned things around, and now lead their division by a comfortable margin. They have been hottest team in the NBA by far, lead by the unbelievable play of Deron Williams. You might think that the sports media would devote much coverage to the hottest team in the league.

Sorry Jazz. Today's national headlines were all about Shaquille O'Neal. During this remarkable streak for the Jazz they have received no media attention whatsoever, all the headlines being gobbled up by trades by Miami and L.A. Deron Williams missed out on the all-star team due to media darling Chris Paul, but when Williams and Paul played head to head on Monday Williams utterly DESTROYED Paul. Blasted him off the face of the planet. I thought there might have been a story or two written about that game, but alas, no. I haven't had the chance to watch any of the games during this streak because the Jazz have fewer nationally televised games than just about any team out there (Miami has the worst record in the NBA, but they're have played on national television more than any other team this season - if Miami plays another crappy team like Chicago on TNT again this season I'm going to yank my hair out).

Basically, the Utah Jazz are ignored because they are the Utah Jazz. Utah. It's that one place that's not L.A. or Miami or New York. It's pretty simple: big market = lots of coverage, small market = no coverage, except if you're a team like Cleveland, a relatively small market, and you've got a marketable superduperstar like LeBron James.

Fine, ignore us now if you like. When June and July roll around and the Jazz are still around in the playoffs and all the more glamorous teams drop away, then we'll get the coverage we deserve by default. That may sound pessimistic, but it's like Homer Simpson said, default can be "the two sweetest words in the English language - De fault! De fault! De fault!"

(P.S. - I never wanted to be one of those guys who uses the word 'we' to talk about his favorite sports team, since I personally do not play for the team. But I find myself doing it all the time now that I'm up in Michigan, under siege in Pistons country.)

The Magic Table

I moved to Ann Arbor back in August and during the first five months here we had, according to my rough calculations, exactly zero visitors to my apartment. No one ever came over. Ever.

However, that all changed with the arrival of Pauly, the magic table. My roommate Todd had been wanting a dining room table for quite some time and a few weeks ago he found one on Craig's List for a good price, so we all chipped in for it. Todd and Seth then spent a week or so sanding that thing like crazy and applying about nine coats of polyurethane (hence the name Pauly). When it was all sparkly and shiny and finished, we invited some friends over for dinner to inaugurate the table on January 20, 2008. That might be the most significant date in history since March 31, 1854, when Commodore Matthew Perry 'opened' Japan to the West, because it 'opened' our apartment to the world. Since then we have had friends over for a Lost season premiere party and a Groundhog Day screening of, you guessed it, Groundhog Day. And it's all thanks to Pauly.

(Pauly, with Lost-related foodstuffs I prepared for the season premiere party)

I've never really lived anywhere that was a popular spot for gatherings, shindigs, or hootenannies (well, unless you count my summers at the Ohio Light Opera, where I always seemed to be placed in the big party house), so I for one welcome the dawn of the Pauly Era.

My friend Gordon Bitner Hinckley

Yesterday was the funeral for one of the great men of our age, Gordon B. Hinckley, President of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. He truly was a giant of a man, and all the documentaries and special coverage of his life and work that have aired in the last few days have only increased my awareness of his great legacy of service and faith. I never met the man in person, but I remember the first time when I saw him speak after he had been sustained as President of the Church. It was at the very close of the General Conference of the church, broadcast worldwide to millions of people. When he stood to give his closing remarks, I was expecting some big long talk setting forth some of his goals or initiatives, but he gave a very short talk that touched me very deeply. That was nearly 13 years ago, so my memory was a little fuzzy about what exactly he said in that talk, so I just looked it up and found this beautiful excerpt:

I wish you—each of you, wherever you are—to know that you are loved. You are loved by your Father in Heaven, of whose divine nature you have partaken. And He desires that His Holy Spirit will be near you wherever you go if you will invite it and cultivate it.

There is something of divinity within each of you. You have such tremendous potential with that quality as a part of your inherited nature. Every one of you was endowed by your Father in Heaven with a tremendous capacity to do good in the world. Train your minds and your hands that you may be equipped to serve well in the society of which you are a part. Cultivate the art of being kind, of being thoughtful, of being helpful. Refine within you the quality of mercy which comes as a part of the divine attributes you have inherited.

Some of you may feel that you are not as attractive and beautiful and glamorous as you would like to be. Rise above any such feelings, cultivate the light you have within you, and it will shine through as a radiant expression that will be seen by others.

You need never feel inferior. You need never feel that you were born without talents or without opportunities to give them expression. Cultivate whatever talents you have, and they will grow and refine and become an expression of your true self appreciated by others.

In summary, try a little harder to measure up to the divine within each of you. As Alma said, “Awake and arouse your faculties.”

-Gordon B. Hinckley, April 2, 1995

As I reread this I teared up all over again because the same feelings returned as when he spoke them the first time. I felt so strongly that this man that I never had met loved me so much and wanted me to be the best person I possibly could be. I felt so strongly that this manly truly was a prophet of God and that if I followed his teachings and counsel, I would be blessed and happy.

Yesterday I watched the live broadcast of his funeral. All the speakers were wonderful, and they shared beautiful stories and immortalized the man. But during the final hymn, they showed a montage of President Hinckley meeting with, talking to, and embracing the people that he loved so much. And in that moment, even though I never met him, I felt like I had lost a very close friend.

Thank you for your lifetime of love and service, President Hinckley.

Welcome to the Blogosphere/Happy Groundhog Day!

I blog. I am a blogger. Look at me blog.

I'd like to give a shout out to my sisters Amy and Emily for blazing the trail and convincing me to start this blog. I love looking at their blogs - it immediately makes me feel like I know what what's going on in their lives. Their blogs are a chronicle of some of the major events that they are going through, but to me they are even more valuable for the entries about the small things that happen every day and might otherwise be not shared with others and ultimately forgotten. I feel like it's the tiny details and anecdotes that reveal what a person's life is actually like, revealing how they think and feel about the world around them.

I already have a Facebook page, but like the homepage says, it is a 'social utility' useful for planning events and sending messages (and I love it for that), but I have long felt that my Facebook page doesn't actually say anything about who I am. It gives no insight into how I feel and what is important to me and what my daily life is like. So when I talked to Emily on the phone the other day and she applied a little bit of pressure on me to start a blog, I had already warmed up to the idea and she just gave me the necessary nudge to just do it.

To kick off my blog I wanted to write about one of my favorite things here in Ann Arbor: the mural on the fence by my apartment.

I love this mural so much. It stretches the entire length of the block and is just a riot of color, imagination, and life - especially now that it is winter. I've got to admit that one of the many reasons I picked the apartment where I now live was its proximity to this mural (okay, I picked my apartment mostly due to the awesome location, great price, and cool roommates, but the mural is what clinched the deal). At the end of the wall, the creator has labeled the work "The Story of a Million Flowers: A mural by Erica and her beautiful friends." I'd like to thank Erica and all her beautiful friends for this wonderful sight that never fails to make me happy when I see it each day.

P.S. - This post got all bloated because I wrote all that 'statement of purpose' stuff at the beginning. I promise future posts will be shorter and pithier.