Hail to the Chief

Hey, remember that one time when I interned in Washington D.C.? Me too. Remember when I told you about that one time where I hung out with the most important people in American politics on the White House Lawn as they ceremoniously welcomed the German Chancellor to Washington? You don't? Oh yeah, well that's cause I never did. Silly me.

But, because of my generous Washington buddy, Sarah, I get to! She was awesomer than me and brought a camera that day. She has generously sent me the photos and I thought I would share with you the perspective we had that day. It was a llllooonnnggg HOT morning, but I'm pretty sure I will never get this close to a President of these United States of America again (or at least until I serve as Ambassador to China, but that might be a few years off) , so I'd say it was worth it.

There were all sorts of fancy military shenanigans that attempted to keep us entertained for HOURS before the President deemed to make an appearance (sheesh, like he has more important things to do than walk by so I get a picture. Right. Sure. Whatever.)
Hilary Clinton was rocking that awesome blue suit. Man. I just wish I had a pic of the matching blue John Lennon sunglasses she was sporting. (I think she's putting them in her pocket here) Style. Icon. Joe Biden's sunglasses were pretty legit too though, right?
And finally, the Prez got his priorities straight and appeared. It was good to see Michelle again too. I felt kinda snubbed when she didn't recognize me and run over to say hi. Sigh.
Then they just stood there and smiled all dignified for a really long time while everybody basked in their presence.

And then Ms. Merkel pulled up in a fancy car.

And then they stood next to each other while both national anthems were played and I think something else happened, but I kinda was overwhelmed in all of the excitement and stopped paying attention.

Then they both made their fancy diplomatic statements. I can proudly say that I understood about 11.5% of the German that was spokened.

This pic I took of Sarah gives you perspective on how close we were. Pretty much we couldn't have gotten any closer without being trackled by the secret service. I thought about maybe turning my fancy program into a paper airplane and flying it up there, just because I could, but I thought better of it. There is also a picture of me in this same pose that I would have posted to prove I was like there too, but I try not to make a habit of posting incriminated pictures of myself that make people shriek in terror and will one day show up to haunt me when VH1 does one of those "Before They Were Stars" specials on me. Plus Sarah looks awesome in her sunglasses.

Me with a bunch of the Washington Seminar students from BYU that came with us that day. And that's the White House behind us, for those of you that couldn't deduce that with out the help of Scooby or Sherlock.

After the whole ceremony thingy, we went to a meeting in the White House. It was pretty cool and addressed the Obama Administrations youth outreach. The guy pictured above heads up the department and spoke to us for a while. When he asked for questions I almost said, "Has anyone ever told you that you look just like Dr. Kutner on House?" Turns out it was Dr. Kutner from House. I felt special. In more ways than one.

And someday, hopefully soon, I will be telling you all about my DC 4th of JULY, cause it was pretty epic.

XXIII

"Twenty-three is old. It's almost 25, which is like almost mid-20s."

-Jessica Simpson

Today I am a legend. Today, I am Michael Jordan.

"Nobody likes you when you're 23. What's my age again?"

Mels Bells

Wedding bells, that is.

Not only did I have the joy of growing up with Miss Melanie Burr, I had the privilege of being a bridesmaid when she became Mrs. Melanie Marshall. Mel and I have been friends for 19 years. 19. That's a lot of years. Nearly 19/23rds of my life. (Mel's the math teacher so I will let her deal with that fraction) She was my first friend when we moved to LV when I was 4 and she will always be included on my list of greatest people in my life. I don't think I have many childhood memories (and trust me, I have many) that do not include Melanie (and, o'course Kelly, the 3rd musketeer). We held many a lemonade stand, built many a club house, and had many a sleepover (which always included watching TGIF). Beaver Cleaver would have been jealous of our childhood. It was so awesome to see her all growed up as a bride. Almost made me reconsider leaving my Never-Neverland life. Almost.

Love ya Mel! Thanks for the good ole days and I wish many more a comin'!

Kahuku. Where dreams come truhuku

New York Times

Guess what? I'm back in Hawaii!!! But guess what? Before I got back to Hawaii I went to NYC, concrete jungle where dreams are made of (is this seriously how the song goes, and if so, am I the only one who thinks this attempt at a sentence makes very little sense? Enjoy the song, but this troubles me. Help me out).

Two of my favorite people on the entirety of this planet (namely Taeler Herr and Alex Allred) came out to DC to visit me and the first thing we did was get on a bus for New York at 6:30am. Back in the day, the three of us plus the one and only Scott Brazee were masters of the suicide road trip (meaning spontaneous, dirt cheap, with little sleep and often under 24 hours). Scott couldn't join us, of course, because he's serving the Lord in South Africa but we brought a flat Scott (inspired by flat Stanley) to join us. Alex has since run away to Europe with a lot of the evidence of this splendid adventure, but when I track him down, I will post the goodness.

GOSH, I love New York!

After Alex got over the disappointment that Madison Square Garden was not an actual garden, and that we were not going to let him stop to wash his hair, we got to explore the city for a good part of the morning. That afternoon we used our sweet hook-ups to get VIP tickets for a David Letterman taping. The Late Show is actually filmed in broad day light at 3:30pm and days before it airs (for those of you who were unaware). It was pretty sweet to get the VIP treatment and watch Mr. Patrick Dempsey exist. The other guests were quite forgettable, but we had a good time.

Below you can watch the interview with Patty that we were present for in case the curiosity and jealously are killing you:

Later that night, we scored box seats to Billy Elliot: the Musical. Alex and I were dying to see "Anything Goes", but you can only sacrifice so many days of nourishment in order to see a good show. We were not disappointed, however, Billy Elliot was AWESOME! *Sigh* Angsty tap numbers preformed by 12 year old boys are surprisingly impressive. Loved it.

Here's a little taste of the show:

By 11:30 we were dodging fans trying to get a peak at Robin Williams (who was performing next door) as we sprinted like mad for 11 blocks in order to catch our bus back to DC after only 10 hours in the city. We caught our bus and got back to DC at 3am and entertained ourselves until the Metro opened at 5:30. We got back to my house at 6:30 and by 7:45 I was back on the Metro on my way in to work. Talk about exhausting, but so worth it. I mean, really, how often do you get to live out the fantasy of being lost in NY for a day with 2 of the most hilarious people on earth? Exactly.

*This adventure was made possible by a generous donation from parentals that manage the "Ambree's Birthday Fund." Without their generous gift supplied more than a month in advance, non of this would have been possible. Thank you.*

Daddy's Day

Happy Daddy's Day! Especially to my daddy! He is all kinds of grand and wonderful.

You know, since I started this blog, I often get asked the question, "Does your dad really call you Bruce?" The answer is, "Yes, indeed. He sure does." That is always followed up with "Why Bruce?" Well, here is the reason as I remember. My dad might have a different version of the tale, but this is the origin of my nickname according to me:

When I was but a wee young cherub, I was very good at stalling when it was time to go anywhere. One of the more common ways I approached this was by delaying putting on my shoes until the last possible moment. This usually led my dad to serenade me with a chorus of "Put your Shoes of Lucy" (which, for the record, I think was a very civil way to approach the situation rather than just losing his patience at me). I, of course, having not yet fully developed my keen sense of musical metaphor, would respond with something along the lines of, "Dad, My name is not LUCY!" So my dad would change the name to Ducy or Goosey or Brucey. And somehow Brucey stuck. I have been Bruce ever since. I don't know if I was the first victim of the rhyming name game my dad always plays, but I was certainly not the last. I think Kelly will always be Smelly to him.

If you are unfamiliar with the song, I have provided the music for your listening pleasure:

My nickname is certainly not the only thing my father has bequeathed upon me. My green eyes may have come from my momma, but I'm pretty sure most of me came from my dad. This list includes (but is not limited to):

1. My Winning Smile If only I had a picture of him smiling to show you just how accurate this is.

2. My brilliant mind. My dad used to be a rocket scientist you know. For reals! He used science to build rockets! Professionally! How many of you can say that?! I daresay, few. I'm also pretty sure I've never had to use the phrase, "Come on, it's not rocket science" with my dad. He pretty much knows everything. A few years ago he went back to school just because he wanted to. He done really good too. My mom always said that one of the reason she married my dad was because he was smarter than her, unlike most of the people she was used to dating. It was also his brilliant mind that got me through math in high school. Every night at the dinner table. Once again, patience is a virtue he possesses. I should probably try to steal that one too.

3. My taste buds. (Notice how I didn't just say taste. My dad always says that all of his taste is in his mouth, except when it comes to pretty girls like my momma. This is probably pretty true.) My dad is not a big sweet eater. We would both choose chips and dip over dessert (unless is was a Silver Mint bar). For as long as I can remember, my dad has had the same salad pretty much everyday. I picked up some Italian dressing at the store last night so I could have a true Father's Day meal today. I have some popcorn too.

4. My love for Classic Rock. My childhood memories are filled with road trips soundtracked by the likes of Styx, Boston, America, Billy Joel, The Beach Boys, etc. I have since developed a pretty extensive collection in the genre. Dad doesn't much care for The Beatles or Bob Dylan, but I have forgiven him . Perhaps I can convert him in the next life.

5. My need to frequently burst into song. So if you know me, it is not news that pretty much anything is capable of inspiring a musical number. It was not a foreign concept in my house growing up that cheese or sweeping the floor may be deserving of a song belted at the top of our lungs. My dad has mad skills too. While I did not inherit his impressive piano playing ability, he is definitely the reason I can carry a tune to the back of a crowded theater. He has often been my accompanist, even when I have called upon to sing at an event last minute somewhere. One time, he even took on a role in show I was doing because someone bailed. Purely selfless, I can assure you. Pretty cool daddio, pretty cool.

So even though my dad might not be able to beat up your dad, he's still probably cooler. I prefer his non-violent nature anyways. I'm a lucky kid indeed. Thanks for being awesome dad! Happy Father's Day!

Just Another Manic Monday

Okay, you caught me! I was 3 hours late to work this morning, but I promise I have a good excuse! There was a bomb threat, boss! I swear! Don't believe me? I have proof. Click here for the news story of my Monday morning terrorist threat