The Color Fest

I really think I will make the color fest an annual tradition. I'm pretty sure that you could go to it every year for the rest of your life and your mind would never stop being blown by the craziness of it. It is definitely one of the most interesting things to do in Utah. And besides, I love taking pictures of the weird people there.



Seriously. What the hell was that last pic about? This is one of those events that brings out the weirdos because you really can't be too silly for it. It's a rare chance to make bizarre fashion statements and then get all dirty with a lot of people. The strange thing is how most people really do wear the same sorts of things. Eighties fashion was apparently this year's theme. And then there is the old, standby hazmat suits.



Aside from all that though, I really tried to focus on taking pics of my friends this year. Last year I dedicated an entire roll of film to the same people, but alas, the photo gremlins got that roll. It somehow turned out blank. That's one of the risks you take with film. Mistakes were made. This year I was more prepared to capture the very important peeps.

Rachel
My lovely fiance. I do love her, even when she smiles. Although oft times her pictures come out looking all hard-ass, Don't let her fool you. Her pictures are all Grrrr! Yum. I like it. But in reality she is all sweetness and mercy. I like that too. And I should know. She puts up with all my nonsense. She definitely adds to my manly powers just by being around. Everybody should have a Rachel in their life to spice it up.

As a matter of fact, I wouldn't even know about this event if not for her. Last year she told me about it because her friend Michael Wiltbank was going to it, and I was like, "Yes! We must do that!" The rest is history. So I still owe her a few brownie points for bringing me into this adventure twice. Especially when you consider that this second time she woke up at 7 AM to go to 2 bridal showers. (I'm pretty sure that I'm don't envy that ritual of the women. Bachelor parties are much more awesome. No offense. Just sayin'. Nevertheless she was a real, hardcore trooper to go breathe in all that filthy dust with us after that sort of a workout.

She also brought most of the people below into this adventure. She is the instigator in these things. Somehow she always can get more people to show up. She has that mysterious power of popularity that I used to try so hard to understand when I was in high school. Now that I am older I have given up. I just bask in her popularity by proxy. It feels like I actually have a social life when I'm with her. But that's just the icing on the cake.

In short, Rachel is awesome. She is sexy, and awesome. She is one hot mess of awesomeness, even when she isn't all colored up. She isn't normally this filthy. But I liked it anyway. It was hot.












Amelia

My little sis. Apparently she got all crazy and rocked out while I was up on top of the temple. Therefore I missed her crazy side. I'm a little bitter about that. I've never seen anything like it.







Trent

One of my groomsmen, and Rachel's cousin. We hang out with him all the time. He is pretty cool, and has a beard like Jesus, which came in handy for filtering dust out of the air. I'm pretty sure that this was the best use for a beard ever. I want to grow one for next year's colorfest. Unfortunately I can only grow a scraggly neck beard. Therefore I am very jealous of this dude.







Brittni

A friend, and Rachel's wife. She is somehow very photogenic whilst covered with colorful chalk. That is a very special talent, not to be taken lightly.







Alyssa

Rachel's little sis





Jon

Rachel's little bro #1



Karalee and Ryan

Some friends from the UC who will very soon be married.


Angel

My photo friend who held the riot down so that nothing important happened before we got there. I knew she had that power. We photo geeks have a lot of mysterious powers. I'll just leave it at that.




Misc.








Me

Where Weekend Warriors Fear To Tread

Note: I'm feeling a bit nostalgic lately. I have been wanting to post some of my old silly blogs on here. I think maybe it will inspire me to start writing about silly things again, like I used to do when I was young, and full of life. This blog is sorely neglected. Anyway, I did find this one that I wrote about a horrid, but beautiful mountain bike racing experience I once had at Soldier Hollow. I always have a hard time explaining the love/hate relationship I once had with Mountain Bike racing. This one comes close to saying something. It was originally posted on Myspace on May 19, 20007. My mood was posted as "Chipper".

Soldier Hollow: Forgotten Pain, Forgotten Pleasure: Where Weekend Warriors Fear to Tread

"I firmly believe that any man's finest hour, his greatest fulfillment of all he holds dear, is the moment when he lies exhausted on the field of battle - VICTORIOUS!"

Vince Lombardi said something like that. I think I know what he was talking about. But do you know what I'm talking about? For instance: Can you imagine what it feels like to burn 3000 calories in 3 hours? Most people will never be able to take themselves willingly to that level of masochism, and I truly pity them. It's quite a unique experience in the human condition. I don't even have the words to describe something that awful, and if I did I probably wouldn't tell you because you're happier not knowing. You would have nightmares, and I wouldn't want to be responsible for you losing sleep.

So I'll just say that by the time I reached the nearest Carl's Jr. restaraunt I was literally shaking, and my eyes refused to focus on anything that was moving. Add to that the fact that my face was completely encrusted with layer upon layer of dust, and streaked with mud and salt from the rivers of sweat that had been recently flowing through that barren, desert wasteland. The poor high school kid at the counter wasn't sure wether to take my order or call the manager, or maybe the police, or maybe an elite animal control unit.

My speech was slurred. It was hard to form the words. But somehow I managed to order a Guacamole Bacon Six-Dollar Burger Combo, large size, with a 44 oz. Dr. Pepper, and a side of fried zucchini; a hearty meal that would surely make Morgan Spurlock cry like a doomed baby who had somehow found itself crawling up Parley's canyon, at rush hour, in the fast lane. And I must confess, with absolutely no remorse, that I enjoyed every bite of that slut with the happy knowledge that I will still weigh-in 3 pounds less than last week. And that's not even mentioning the horrid things I ate yesterday. You don't want to know. Let's just say that there is a beautiful practice in the dog-eat-dog world of mountain bloodsport called 'Carbo-Loading', and somewhere in the deepest levels of hell a Dr. Robert Atkins is being forcibly violated, in my honor, by 2 large demons with lightning bolts tatooed on their hairy beer-bellies.

So, after shoveling that garbage into my mouth with wild, reckless abandon, I managed to walk out of the place feeling like a distant relative of the human race. I didn't look back, but if I did I was sure I would see everyone sighing in relief to know that the sweating, stinking phillistine had left the building. They could all feel safe again, but they would be left forever wondering what it was that I had seen, and how much it would cost to get some. I guarantee they couldn't afford it.

It was race #4 at Soldier Hollow that put me in this wretched condition. The race that separates the willing from the able. It separates the clean-shaven and virtuous from the foul and hedonistic, dirt-worshiping adrenaline junkies. I hate Soldier Hollow. Everyone I know hates Soldier Hollow. But those of us who have truly been there will never stop coming back for more. We bash our souls against that mountain year after year after bloody year. It is the first race of the season at high altitude that takes place on something you can actually call a mountain. After Soldier Hollow, you are done with the hills, and must be ready for anything.

Soldier Hollow is not a course to be taken lightly. That third lap took everything I had. The mountain forced its way into all the dark, moist holes in my training strategy. I apologize for getting crude with my analogies, but there's no other way to express the sort of pain and humiliation that I suffered today. But it was okay in the end. I got sixth place, which isn't bad at all considering. And now I know my weaknesses, intimately. The mountain has shown me the path that I must take, and I will not cringe in the face of adversity.

After all that I knew I was pushing my luck when Stephen Brown asked me if I wanted to go for a 3rd lap, after the race awards, but you can never say no to a personal, mano e mano grudgefest with an old foe. In fact when Tinker Juarez descended from Amasa Back with the Ten Commandments of XC Mountain Bike Racing, given to him by a flaming pile of Cryptobiotic Soil, I think it was the first commandment that said "Thou shalt not deny 3rd lap pissing contests with old foes."


The fat is in the fire. The bikefight is on.

She Said 'Yes'!

So, how does one write a blog about something like this? I really don't know, so I'll stick to the facts.

Yesterday was a really great day.

I have been working on putting a ring on Rachel's finger for a while now. It was at that point where everyone wanted to know what I was going to do, but I told no one anything. The secrecy was quite exhausting. Especially when I got the ring some 10 days ago.

It is no small burden on a guys mind to have the ring, but then have to wait for the right moment to pop it out and ask the question. For that matter, it's no small burden to try and decide how to pop the question. There is always that part of you that is afraid of rejection, and is sure that in the moment that beautiful woman will see through all your layers of confusion and realize that she could do much better. All that doubt started to creep in and make me crazy for over a week. Finally, it came time that I just had to do it. Part of me was sure she was going to say no, but I had to ask the question anyway.

Now, I should explain to you that my Rachel is very smart. Sharp as a tack. I didn't want to give her any warning. Of course I tried to think of some super romantic way to do it, but in the end that wouldn't really be me. I do feel romantic in my heart. So why put the ring in a pastry, or something. I have never really understood that part of the thing. I always knew I would just get down on my knee and do it straight-forward.

So what I did is I spent Sunday with her as though it was any ordinary Sunday. Then at the end of it I made her dinner. I got some flowers for her while I was picking up some stuff for the cooking. I thought that might make her suspicious, but I do give her flowers a lot. Then, as she sat down to eat, I whipped out the ring, and she went into a cute, little shock, and said, "Brandon! Don't do this to me!" But it was way too late for that. So I said some things that I don't remember. All I remember is that I was shaking and starting to cry a little. And then she said some things that I don't remember, but that ended with, "Yes, I will marry you." And then we hugged, and cried, and kissed, and it was marvelous.

So then it was impossible to eat. So we put the food all away and went down to the UC to begin spreading the word to the right people, explaining our situation. We told her family. Then we told my family. Meanwhile several phone calls were made. And that brings us right up to the present. I think I'm just barely done with the phone calls. My phone is blowing up with text messages. I haven't talked to this many people, or even texted this many people in a very long time.

Now it's time to get to work. The real fun is just beginning.

The Oscars: A Hateful Screed Against Sellouts, and American Commercialism: A Finger To The Brainwashed Masses: My Snobby Picks: And Tribute To Losers

Is there no justice in this world?

I ask myself that question often, and for many valid reasons. The greedheads and powermongers have run amok all over the place, and we are all stuck here reaping the consequences of their actions. It's almost enough to convince even a pacifist like myself to buy a gun. And yet today I am just pissed off about something far more trivial: The Oscar race.

Every year in March we have to endure this shimmering tribute to mediocrity that we have all come to know and love through years of decreased expectations. Now don't get me wrong, I am not knocking the sedative effects of cheap entertainment, nor the cheap thrills of base exploitation films. As a longtime film junkie, I can every now and then get behind a good movie about car crashes, or cell phones that kill people. But I do know where to draw the line between proper art and blah.

I'm not getting to the point here. Where was I? Oh yes. So when the Oscars come around every March, I am strangely drawn to them, like a moth to the proverbial flame. And just like that doomed moth, I am almost always burned. I find myself screaming at my TV, "Who the #%! **&* *@## voted for that!"

I could pretend to be a film critic here and give you my predictions, but that is far too easy. Pocohontas, er, I mean Avatar is going to win the big prizes. I guess it isn't all that bad. I stayed awake for about a third of it. Worse things will happen anyway. I am pretty sure that for every award won by the film "Precious" God will kill two kittens. That blood will be on the hands of the Academy voters. That's all I'm gonna say about that. I'm not going to focus too much energy on that train wreck. During the Oscars tomorrow I intend to occupy myself by making some pizza.

But for now, to put this post on a more positive note, I am going to explain to you with great arrogance who should win some awards tomorrow.

Best Picture
Inglourious Basterds



I do have mixed feelings about it because it is not the best of Quentin Tarantino's masterpiece films. But it did satisfy what we have come to expect from the man. It is a wild and crazy ride full of the most bizarre surprises, and questions all our deepest notions of what movies are all about. From the misspelt title, right down to the brazen ending that I won't talk about here, it defies the stupifying trend in hollywood. At least for those of us who were paying attention. Most people just think it's silly, and Tarantino is written off by many film critics as a sort of populist entertainer. But there are a few of us who know that his films are no laughing matter. And it is the only film in 2009 that I can honestly put on a list with The Godfather, Casablanca, The Best Years of Our Lives, Lawrence of Arabia, etc. etc.

Best Director
Oren Peli for "Paranormal Activity" - James Cameron will surely win this award for Avatar. But anyone can direct a movie if you give them $500,000,000 to do it. Give me that kind of money and I'll make a movie to blow your damn mind. I'll make a movie that kills people and ends world hunger for half a billion dollars. But Orn Peli, on the other hand, directed the hell out of the scariest movie in years for something like $11,000. That wouldn't even buy my car. If there was any justice in this world James Cameron would dedicate his award to Benjamin Franklin. Congratulations James. You bought this one.

Best Actor
This award should be split between Sam Rockwell, and Sam Rockwell for "Moon".


Sam Rockwell had the task of playing this entire movie with no one but a creepy robot and himself. He had to play two characters. Or maybe they are the same. I'm not really sure. It reminded us that Science Fiction can still be cool, even in the 21st century.

Best Actress
Sandra Bullock for The Blind Side - Ummm. Why not? I love Sandra, and I can't think of a better idea.

Best Supporting Actor
Christoph Waltz for "Inglourious Basterds" - Who know that a character called The Jew Hunter could be so damn funny. We all love to hate him. He's just so adorable, and evil. No contest here. He actually will win this one.

Best Supporting Actress
Penelope Cruz for "Nine" - She brought sexiness into a film that direly needed it. I didn't use my brain to make this pick. 'Nuff said.


Best Original Screenplay
"A Serious Man" by the Brothers Coen - After winning everything for No Country For Old Men, the Coens finally got a chance to make this personal, and original film about a man who wants God to tell him what He wants from him as his life falls apart around him. Like all of their films it is nothing like what we expected, and yet it is definitely a Coen Brother's movie. You had to be there, I guess.

*Honorable mention in this category goes to "The Hangover" written by Jon Lucas and Scott Moore.

Best Screenplay Adaptation
"The Soloist", screenply by Susannah Grant - This movie had the misfortune of being released in the first half of the year. Any movie that comes out before late August will be promptly forgotten by Academy voters. But this one was a real treasure. One of the best films of the year.

Best Cinematography
I have no idea how this category is decided. It always goes to the most normal looking movie. Apparently a cinematographer's goal is to make their movie look like every other movie. Creativity is not rewarded. I'm also giving this one to Inglourious Basterds because it aint as easy as you might think to make a movie that looks like it was filmed in 1972 by Sergio Leone. The cinematographer in question here is Robert Richardson.

Best Art Direction
"The Road" - Because it aint easy to drain all the life out of the world and make everything look dead.


Best Animated Feature
It will go to UP. I just want to give an honorable mention to The Fantastic Mr. Fox, which is equally deserving.

I don't care about the rest of the categories. That's all I really got.

The Joseph Smith Sphynx

Rachel and Trent standing with the Joseph Smith Sphynx at Gilgal Garden in Salt Lake. This weird, little town never ceases to bewilder me.