sister site

A type-o led me to my sister site:


Very informative.


why uncle sixline doesn't belong in the upper crust

I like classical music. A lot. I like opera music. A lot. Don't ask me to identify it, or tell you my favorite. I have no clue. I can turn on classical music of any kind and really like it. I especially like Mozart's Requiem. I bought a CD of it off amazon.com. It was $9, shipped to my hizzy. I nicked the mp3s off the web, and it's high time I paid for them. (10 down, and about 1000 more to go...)

At any rate, when I shared this news with a friend of mine who's partaken of the upper crust having been an opera singer from New York. (It's also reported that she wears a monocle from time to time, but these rumors have yet to be confirmed.)

Her reaction was typical of 'her type.' (The cultured type.)

Her: Who directs it?
Me: Huh? I'm not sure, but Berlin Philharmonic performs it. (I only knew that having read the description on Amazon.
Her: I don't trust anyone other than Neville McStuffyshirt with Mozart. (OK, so his name isn't McStuffyshirt. But he's British, cultured, involved with upper crust music types, and is probably vitriolic against Americans.)

The problem with the upper crust is that they wish it was the Dark Ages again. When Lords were Lords, Vassals were Vassals, and Serfs were guys like me.

Looks like it's back to potty humor and other low-brow activities for me.


Gandalf's Wisdom

Many that live deserve death. Some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them, Frodo? Do not be too eager to deal out death in judgment. Even the very wise cannot see all ends.

The first time I heard that quote it really stuck with me. I don't consider myself a judgmental person, but I think I've been too hasty (eager, perhaps?) in dealing out judgment. One of the redeeming virtues of the Atonement is that Christ did suffer all things in order to understand them fully. His judgments are not one-sided. Complex issues are easier for us to understand if we can dismiss the facets and aspects that don't fit our current mindset and style. There's simply less to cope with.

Humans form opinions. For whatever reason, we like to pat ourselves on the back and be proud that we have a firm handle on things. We know the right answer; and relatively little changes our mind. The natural man is unteachable, he is prideful. To him, being right is more about ego than it is about understanding and compassion. Compassion leads one to explore other opportunities and see the relationships that cause people to do the things they do. When we bump into something that doesn't mesh with our opinions that have been hitherto cemented into our psyche, our pride will cause us to tweak the perception of the issue so that it matches our prejudices and preconceived notions.

Perhaps this is why pride is such a strong tool. We limit our thinking and convince ourselves that it's right to do so. Limited thinking is the product of the natural man, the latter is the product of the adversary.

As such, I think there are several people and social groups that deserve my apologies. I have been quick to judge others that don't march the same line I do when it comes to the Gospel. I still hold onto (for better or for worse) the ideal that being critical of any aspect of the Church is a dangerous road, but surely those that do it do not deserve my scorn and bitterness.

After all, judge ye not unrighteously, lest ye be judged.


Drinking from a Starbucks cup at BYU

This morning my good friend and I went down to BYU to visit their technical/engineering oriented career fair. Since BYU is a bigger school than mine (Utah State) they tend to garner a bit more interest. As such, we got up at the crack of dawn and drove the two hours to get there from our town to Provo before 9AM. We arrived around 8:30AM. My friend's wife, who was born and raised on the east coast, got me introduced to Starbucks brand apple cider with caramel froth. Don't be impressed: It's $3.50 for piping hot Treetop brand apple cider with some kind of caramel froth. The magic was gone when I spied the bottle behind the counter. Regardless of taking your average grocery store product and selling it at an unbelievably high markup, I find the drink quite tasty.

Now normally, a nice little Mormon guy like me wouldn't go into Starbucks. Why would I go there? They sell coffee. I don't drink coffee. Hence, I have no reason to go there... Normally. Now that my life has been enriched by the apple-y goodness of said drink, I found 8:30AM on a chilly February morning to be the perfect environment for me to walk around with my drink. I looked very professional in my new suit with shiny shoes holding what looked to be coffee in a Starbucks cup. At least I must've looked that professional, because I got quite a few stares from the BYU student body in the Wilkinson(that's the one, right?) Center.

I suppose that if you were to take away my coffee/cider, I'd look exactly like any other Joe down there at BYU. All the attention made me smile. Maybe it wasn't the anomaly of a student drinking coffee, though... Maybe I'm just that good looking.


My blog sucks!


Who am I kidding.

No one's reading this. The only one that does usually hears me blab about my latest post ANYWAY... Bother my lack of audience and bother my need for one to post something that's worth half a penny.

But I don't want to quit. Maybe I should just start perusing other blogs, commenting here and there to try to generate some people that come and visit mine. I also should remove all tracking code so that I don't get depressed that no one comes. Leave a little magic to it, you know?

Oh well. My mom thinks I'm cool.


A plug for the Swiss

This guy off my Utah Jazz message board lives in Zurich. Nice guy-- as evidenced by my parcel in the mail this morning. I was chatting with him about Mirador and Farmer Croc-- two EXCELLENT Swiss culinary items. The former is a sort of spice, the latter is a cereal. They are very good, and made for heavy staples in the missionary diet when I was serving in Neuchatel. I missed those foods quite a bit, and I humbly asked if this friend of mine could send me a box of this.

He sent it a good 3 weeks ago. It arrived with some USDA markings on the box, and had been opened and re-sealed. But I had Farmer Croc cereal this morning. So good. When we have pasta next, I'm gonna put some Mirador on it. Oh man that stuff is good.

Nice guy. Next time you see a Swiss person, tell them they're great.



After 3 weeks of having a living room comparable to a hurricane disaster area, it's finally clean.

That's right, it's clean. My poor wife did every scrap of laundry yesterday, leaving a mountain of clean clothes on our bed. I did half the dishes (I got too pooped to do the rest. Mrs. Sixline said she'd cover the rest today, Lord bless her.) and together we got the bathroom in working order. I even took an old (clean) rag, dipped it in piping hot water and did a little mop job in there.

But the big ticket was that living room. Since we live in a house that was built in 60's, our basement carpet is blue. It's kinda cool, but it's kinda dirty. Tracking snow and ice in there makes the carpet an almost brown color. This is disgusting. How can blue turn brown?! Anyway. In addition to the floor that's dirty and hadn't been vacuumed in the last 3 weeks, I had my fish crap EVERYWHERE. Remember last week, when I thought I'd be done? That tank was filled with water and rock and sand and the stupid thing cracked. So I had to wait another week to get a replacement tank. In the meantime there's been PVC pipe, wood shavings, scrap pieces of PVC, paint cans, tools, drills, drill bits, buckets of sand, buckets of salt, and a big tub of water and rock hanging out in my living room. Not only that, but our little table that we eat on (strange apartment layout, no room in the kitchen for eating so we put the small table for two in the living room.) It was pushed out of the way and just made things difficult and clunky in that room.

Yesterday I got the new tank in place, emptied the sand from the bucket and took care of said bucket, placed the rock in the tank and removed its tupperware container, cleaned up all my tools, disposed of all excess PVC and trash, put away all other chemicals, cleaned off the fishtank stand, and vacuumed. Then I moved the table back. We finally have a house in working order.


Hitting home

Mrs. Sixline and I rarely visit my family. My older brother is in the Air Force, currently stationed at Holloman AFB in Alamogordo, New Mexico. My little sister lives with her husband in Provo, where my little brother is staying until he moves into his apartment in the next month (Provo as well.) My parents and my eldest sister live in West Bountiful, however my dad works for the government checking baggage at airports and hence travels everywhere in the US.

This past weekend as a rare time when all of us could congregate in one city for an extended period of time. My older brother's wife, sadly, couldn't come up from New Mexico. We missed her, but it was fun all the same.

I know we're not as social as I'd like to be, and this has its ups and downs. When we are together, we don't fight or have episodes between us. We never see each other; why would we waste the few moments we have with fighting?

On the other hand, my wife's family is very close, and every one of them live in a 25 mile radius. As such, not only do they see more of each other, but I think it causes a bit of tension and your average family drama episodes pop up more often than with us.

I can't tell which way I want it. I like the closeness of my wife's side of the family, and I like the space my side of the family has. I just wish there were more good moments like this weekend to share.


A plug for Mrs. Sixline

I got us a swanky dinner date for Valentine's Day, but I can't remember where... I figured we can go to a chain restaurant any old day, so this is for a local place that's supposed to be nice. I have a surprise for her beyond that, but I'm not sure how I'm going to pull it off. I'll release details later, as I know that some of Mrs. Sixline's friends read this blog, and I prefer not to leak any details of the operation.

I really have to breathe a sigh of relief I'm with Mrs. Sixline. In some ways, I know she's lucky to have me. I do quite a bit of cleaning, I'm trying to be a righteous husband, and I'm doing my best to bring home the bacon.

I come up short far too often for my liking, and I don't depend on me the way she does. She's a rock. She's never disappointed me. I'm not talking about minor things, like towels on the floor, toothpaste caps, or cupboard doors being open. I'm talking about big things. When I need her. She's completely dependable, and stronger than I am. I feel like hanging my head in shame when I compare my track record to hers. I get teased because she's the only one who could put up with my personality and quirks, but I think it goes beyond that... She's able to support me and love me in the way I need.

Please, don't feel I take advantage of her. I'd hate to be guilty of that. It is true that I'm on the receiving end of a lot of things. (She's let me watch every Utah Jazz game this year.) Her example makes me want to do better. In a lot of ways, I've come very far, but... It just doesn't seem like it's enough. She deserves someone better, and I want that to be me.