one-liners

joel posted a list of movie plots boiled down into one-sentence summaries.  they were fun and clever and, at the bottom, he asked for any other suggestions.  my list kept growing so much that i decided to make it into my own posting.

2001: a space odyssey- space program doesn't run mac osx, has to reboot.

about a boy- socially-awkward youth is surrounded by poor role models.

adaptation- repulsive man doesn't finish book assignment.

aladdin- upper-class girl conned by street thug.

amelie- reclusive introvert stalks numerous parisians.

apocalypse now- boat travels through southeast asia; crew meets interesting people.

babel- everyone in the world is sad.

back to the future- anachronous teen steels car, almost destroy space-time, kisses mother.

casablanca- man commits theft, adultery, homicide, befriends police captain.

citizen kane- successful newspaper man loses toy.

close encounters of the third kind- delusional man deserts family, runs to wilderness with single mother.

crash- l.a. is full of racists.

the deer hunter- veteran doesn't want to play game with friend.

the departed- irish men achieve goals through lying, violence; woman perplexed.

doubt- paranoid nun ruins everyone's life.

dumb and dumber- devoted romantic travels cross country to return briefcase.

eternal sunshine of the spotless mind- doctor helps lonely man overcome heartache.

fight club- successful soap company expands interests.

the godfather- old man believes in family, instills values in children.

gone with the wind- high-maintenance girl stops being hungry, man doesn't care.

goodfellas- after thirty years, man leaves friends, attempts career change.

hero- terrorist lies to head of state, is subdued.

kill bill- stubborn woman refuses to forgive friends.

the last emperor- richest kid in the world isn't content.

lean on me- principal abuses students; parents outraged, students happy.

the lion, the witch, and the wardrobe- little girl not afraid of predators.

little miss sunshine- drug-addicted grandfather teaches little girl dance, makes family happy.

the matrix- internet geek uses cheat code in video game.

mr. smith goes to washington- overzealous visitor disrupts congress.

the muppets Christmas carol- lonely british man talks to puppets.

mystery science theater 3000: the movie- aimless man and associates make fun of others.

newsies- street gang attacks local business.

the nightmare before Christmas- foreign celebrity commits kidnapping, identity theft.

ocean's twelve- director promises entertaining sequel, audiences realize they're the ones being robbed.

pulp fiction- stolen briefcase is safely returned, clothing soiled.

punch-drunk love- romantic businessman visits hawaii, doesn't tell sister.

the rocky horror picture show- lost couple makes new friends, learns to dance, tries on new clothes.

the seventh seal- melancholy man plays chess, makes new friend.

shrek 2- fat man intimidated by rich parents, attractive younger man; donkey intimidated by adopted cat.

singin' in the rain- woman is ostracized by friends because she talks differently.

sunrise- man attempts to kill wife, finds marital bliss.

the terminal- confused immigrant accosted by airport official.

there will be blood- oil tycoon attends church.

this is spinal tap- reporter and musician have miscommunication about amplifier.

transformers- import vehicles difficult to control.

uhf- innovative young man runs successful tv station.

up- elderly man kidnaps boy scout, flees country.

x-files: i want to believe- paranoid man disrupts medical research.

keep talking

for millions of years, mankind lived just like the animals. then, something happened which unleashed the power of our imaginations and we learned to talk.

-stephen hawking

i'm comfortable with silences.  like mia wallace, i don't feel the need to continually fill the air with words; it's a special friends with whom you can just sit and be quiet.

but silence does make a lot of people uncomfortable, and i suppose it's good to not let that happen too often in most circumstances.

i am a believer in conversation in life, though.  talking is what keeps the air from going stale in a house, a car ride, an evening out.  not necessarily philosophical musings on existentialism, nor one-word answers lobbed from behind a wall, but simple and honest talking.  it's healthy to a relationship of any kind.  it feels good to talk with someone, and it's not always easy.   but i'm surprised at the differences in environment when words flow back and forth freely.  and i don't exclusively mean telling your innermost thoughts, hopes, and dreams, although i think i once did.

sharing who you are, what you're up to, what you're thinking about.  like flowing water, conversant talking helps our relationship stay fresh and clear.  it keeps us from becoming weird.

i'm not the best at this.  i partially credit my scandinavian heritage for part of it, but also an effort to be a better lister (as opposed to "waiting to talk") and, as a result, preferring to listen to others.  to quote sydney greenstreet in the maltese falcon, "i'm a man who likes talking to a man who likes to talk!"

and then there are times when i won't shut up....

all we need to do is make sure we keep talking.

big ideas in a small theatre

i don't go to plays much; i'm a movie guy.  what's nice about movies is that you don't have to be there at the moment to see it.  unless you're watching touch of evil or blade runner, what you're seeing is pretty much the same thing everyone else saw when it was released, even if it was released in japan fifty years ago (and let's all forget about the "special edition" of the lion king...).

with live theatre, it's much more of a gambit; the second night's performance will be different that opening night's, to say nothing of how a script's production is reinterpreted over the decades.

good cinema is much easier to propagate; thank you, home video and dvds.  good theatre is a little trickier; you kind of have to be there (the 1998 effort to record CATS on video didn't really work).  and i usually don't think of provo, utah, as having good theatre.  of all the plays i saw at byu, only a few were worth getting excited about, my favorite being smart, single guys (written by a student, no less).  i'd happily recommend it to you, but, i like i said, with theatre, you kind of have to be there.  when it's gone, it's gone.

amidst all these obstacles, i saw a really good play this evening.  on center street in provo is the covey theatre, and the main floor auditorium was hosting the miss utah pageant.  upstairs, in a room that was tiny even by "experimental theatre" standards, was a play called every day a little death.  i wouldn't have been there had my friend, who was starring it in, personally invited me.  that seemed to be the case for almost every one of the fifteen people there.  

two people, eight short scenes, one recurring theme: death.  the scenes followed a couple from their first date through their first few years of marriage, each time talking about death.  the writer-director's notes commented that there was no metaphorical death, no poetic death of an ideology or such.  these focused on mortality, the death of the living.  i wouldn't have noticed that decision had it not been pointed out, and i liked it.

that makes it sound morbid or grim, but it wasn't.  these were conversations about the events, the moments or years before or after.  sometimes these seemingly-mundane times can be as defining in our lives as the grand events of birth, marriage, or death.  i like that patient observation.

all of this is great in theory, but it can easily get mired in the actual production.  in that tiny little white room, everything worked.  the set consisted of a couch, a table, and two chairs.  they were rearranged between scenes to create a new environment and each scene's blocking was minimal; the actors mostly stayed in their spot for the time.

that could have been very boring.

it wasn't.

a small theatrical production about a young married couple talking about death on center street in provo: that's ripe for cheesy dialogue.  their discussions were interesting without being forced.  they weren't snappy-witty like everyone in juno, and, thankfully, they weren't trying to be.  it was genuine, not saccharine.  nor did they have screaming tirades of obscenities.  it wasn't an examination of life and death by lacerating humanity to the core.  there were no acts of infidelity, not exclamations of loathing or hatred.  it was two people working through big things and little things.  it generally seemed real, and there was enough hope underlying each situation that you believed one would catch the other when they fell.  

the acting was solid, with the couple giving a dynamic range of emotions that oscillated realistically.  while some scenes were stronger than others, most times, i would soon forget that i was watching a performance, becoming interested in listening in on their conversation and thinking along with them.

it was nice to see something different and something good.

in short, i liked it.

we tennis

cleaning out my hall closet last week, i found a tennis racquet.  my tennis racquet.  i bought it last year, possibly during a momentarily lapse of reason, as my history with organized sports has never been very lasting.  my best friend and i did have several excellent games of calvinball in his back yard, often involving the apple tree.  but the traditional experiences with baseball, basketball, soccer, and even tennis were little more than bored flirtations up through fifth grade, rarely lasting longer than a single season.  after fifth grade, i discovered theatre and that was pretty much my muse from there on out.

i wasn't naturally athletic, but it was almost more of an ideological issue.  just as no man can serve two masters, being good in school and being good at sports seemed fundamentally incompatible, and, given the choice, i  opted for academics.  and so this fallacy, despite being a gross stereotype and having plenty of contrary evidence, existed with me, more or less, through high school.  i loathed gym class and couldn't understand why anyone except refrigerator-shaped guys would take sports as an elective.

there was one moment of anomaly: during my sophomore year, i was friends with several of the school newspaper staff and was approached with the assignment of writing an opinion on why sports are better than academics.  my severely puzzled-look at my friend--whom i knew knew she was asking the wrong guy--elicited the reasoning: anyone who genuinely believed that couldn't write it well enough (her words, not mine).  as such, i had a hey-day with it.  so successful was it that i overheard one girl say, "who wrote this?  the knowledge bowl is going to attack him!"

by high school, it seemed that the die has been cast: if you weren't on the athletic train by  now, it was too late to jump on.  besides, i didn't like competition.  the "i'm better than you and i'm going to hit you harder" mentality seemed (and still does) immature and unappealing.  i was much more of a "let's all work together" team player.   ...which would have obviously been a very good trait for sports.  instead, i was happy throwing myself into math competitions, every theatrical performance i could get, and being captain of the knowledge bowl team.  all of which i was very competitive in, it just didn't seem as barbaric.

looking back now, the only sport that seems appealing was hockey, but, in minnesota, if you don't start by age 5, you may as well move to another state.

the greatest argument against my views was a friend named ashley jensen.   despite having the misfortune of being a boy named "ashley", he excelled in seemingly everything.  he was brilliant in academics and was aiming for med school.  ok, he had glasses and parted his hair; that fits.  he was masterful at the saxophone, seated several chairs up from where jon and i were assigned.  fine- music is arty.  but as we were spending more time talking about religion, he invited me to play tennis.  sure, i "played tennis", which amounted to a couple weeks in a summer activity and those few units in gym class.

at the tennis court, ashley took off his shirt and revealed that he was as physically fit as he was mentally.  our "game" lasted about three serves, at which point he charitably suggested that we just "have fun" hitting the ball back and forth.  i don't remember the whole event last very long.

over the past few years, i've accepted that sports are not the enemy, nor do they have to edge out other aspects of "jeff."  balanced athletics can help other areas of my life.  i like friendly competition.  i took weight training (twice) at byu, without any coercion.  and i liked it.

so, the tennis racquet.  the weather's warming up and i could either say "i should play sometime this summer" or i could go out and actually play next week.  becky and brady are pretty busy with graduating, parenting, and moving, so next on my list was jaime.  i didn't know if she actually played tennis, but she was my best bet.

thankfully, she was up for it and we went out this morning.

you may have noticed from the above story that i've never successfully "played tennis."  i've hit a tennis ball with my dad when i was younger, but an actual game?  no.

so when we were into our third or fourth game this morning, it occurred to me that i was actually playing tennis.   and loving it.  we played for about an hour and a half, and i could've gone for another hour (i think).  my most recent education on scoring comes from playing wii tennis and i can't keep straight the differences between games, sets, and matches, but it was a blast.

so, if anyone out there plays...  ; )

see my vest

a year or two ago, express decided vests should be in fashion again.  maybe they've been around for a while, but the first time i saw them was on a mannequin at express.  and i thought they were awesome.  perhaps it reminds me of buster keaton in some way; i don't know, but i'm a fan of them.  however, the blasted things retail for $87.99, which is way too much for pay for a vest; you don't even get sleeves.

unlike stores that pander to kids with parents' credit cards and so rarely offer sales and clearances, express knows its target market generally pays its own bills and, as such, needs to shop economically.  i don't have to have the newest latest fashions and don't mind waiting for a little season for clothes (although, the day the seventh seal is released on blu-ray, it will be mine).  after a few months, the vests move racks and the price tags are slashed with red once or twice.  coupled with a $20 off card from the mail, and, suddenly, i too can look like a plucky 1920's character.

(the new summer vests look pretty great, too)

i really like my vest!

seven seconds per frame

a few weeks ago i posted my demo reel.  i thought i was pretty much done.  but, bit by bit, i found new ways i could make it better: adding another menu page with more examples; why not make those examples in HD?  maybe i can polish up that menu style?  hmm, if i can make those shots in HD, maybe i can redo the demo reel in HD....

my computer (my blessed, circa-2003 G4 computer) has been compressing my 2 min. 55 second reel all morning and is scheduled to be finishing up about the time movie night wraps this evening (compressing it in standard def took about two hours, but i had to have the h.264 compression).  

on the other hand, it takes pixar six hours or more for one frame.

all in all, i'll be really sad when this is over.  it's been a lot of fun plowing through this, learning how to use the program, realizing what it can do, wondering if i can do something more, and the whole process starting over again.

who knows what the future will bring?

(i just had deja vu as i was thinking of what to title this; sadly, i can't remember what i thought i'd titled it...)

weakend update

as best as i can tell, somewhere around wednesday my chi went defunct.  i don't know whether i'm powered by cold fusion or a hamster or a wheel, but whatever's inside of me slowed down to a 2 and i stopped burning on my own.

i like blogging, but after not taking the time to write about the ducks i saw on tuesday morning, i felt little force behind anything to write.  life has continued on at 24 hours per day, i just haven't had the exuberance that i'm used to.

it's sunday, the start of a new week.  perhaps something will happen that will jump start me, or maybe the tide will simply come in again.

come what may and love it.

when turning the power off, hold in the reset button, or all data may be lost

dragon warrior 3 has always been one of my favorite nintendo games (old nintendo, two-button controller, blow-in-the-cartridge nintendo).  it's what we called a "role-playing game"; usually, you're a knight (or a kid who will become a knight), setting out on a quest--there's always a quest--to destroy some monster who is going to either destroy or rule the world or princess (or both).  often, you will meet other people who will join you on the quest, and you may or may not learn what really happened to your father.  you don't jump on flying turtles, but instead fight monsters in what boils down to a battle of numbers: hit points, magic points, and other nerd goo.  no mushrooms to make you grow, leafs to make you sprout a tail and fly.  instead, you collect weapons, armor, and water toys by visiting village item shops, exploring dungeons, or killing a metal slime.

i love these games and still dust them off with a smile at Christmas time; the blocky graphics and electronic sounds are old friends.  part of the joy of the game is finding every little item; of having maps of the dungeons (or cave or castle or lighthouse) spread out in front of me and making sure i found every treasure chest; of completing every side quest and exhausting every option (which is the same reason why i would mark every "choice" with a bookmark (or my finger) when reading a "choose your own adventure" book).  i like to have everything.

earlier this year i was thinking about this (tim and i went through dragon warrior 2 in two days at the end of the Christmas break) and i realized that, when i turn off the power switch, it's all gone.  no matter how much armor or how many healing herbs i'd collected, none of it exists once i turn it off.  none of it means a thing.

today is easter, the day when rabbits lay chocolate eggs (i've never actually researched it, but that's what i gather from the tv commercials).  today is the day we remember the resurrection of Jesus Christ.  His resurrection is the culmination of His mission in mortality, the glorious finishing of His work that included suffering in gethsemane and crucifixion at golgotha.

His resurrection did not just break the chains of death for Him, but it extended to everyone without condition.  everyone who has ever died will be brought back to life, immortality, because of His resurrection.

my dvd collection, my car, my wall-e bed sheets: when the power is shut off, those are gone.  you can't take it with you.  it doesn't matter what or how much i had.  it's all gone.  

but i am not.  life and family continue.

how scary it would be to wonder if this were all we got; to be afraid of the off switch.

how wonderful to know it's not!  the Gospel is true!

best movie of 2008

tim and i were out running around town on friday afternoon and stopped by wal-mart in search of cadbury cream eggs, the greatest by-product of the commercialization of easter.  while the store did not have any (future searches all over town would similarly be of no avail), we did stop by the "bedding" section, as i realized earlier that day that i have been living on one pair of bed sheets for quite some time now.

tim said he would buy the "super mario 3" hoodie we had looked at at f.y.e. if i bought the sheets.  it seemed like a win-win-win to me....

being that they're disney merchandise, they're about as soft as sandpaper, but i love 'em just the same. when i get married, i'll have to have some "grown-up" bedding, so i'm enjoying my time while i can.

mom, thanks for the easter money.  ; )

spiritual clambake

(sung to the tune of "a real nice clambake" from rogers and hammerstein's carousel)

that was a real nice conference

we're mighty glad we came

the talks we heard were good, you bet

the company was the same

sitting in the conference center yesterday morning, all i could think was, "how cool it art!"  how seriously awesome is it that we have prophets and apostles who continually speak to us, giving us counsel and guidance in this crazy world, and that this occurs twice a year.  and that i had the opportunity to be at the conference center with president monson, his counsellors, and the quorum of the twelve.  truly, it is good for us to be here!

sitting with a group during a talk is interesting, because, so often, the speaker will say something, and we will all go for our notes at the same time.  some phrases stand out as worth writing down.  yet if we all compared notes, we'd all have heard different things.  like my brother said last week, that can only be because the Spirit is talking to each of us.  because it's true.

here's some of what i heard:

elder hales reminded us to say "get behind me, satan", and that there is love, not weakness, in saying "we can't afford it."  sister lifforth noted that often, the most destructive child (and we are all children) needs our love the most; brother neider nudged us that, as holders of the priesthood, the women of the Church should not be the only examples of virtue.  elder packer of the seventy told us to become acquainted with the voice of the Holy Ghost, but that if we have unrealistic expectations of how that revelation will come, we could miss it.  elder christofferson taught that when we have entered into divine covenants, the Holy Ghost will be our guide, our constant companion.  president eyring poignantly said that sometimes, the Lord calls on us to give to others what we hope He will give to us.  

we got to raise our hand in sustaining the leaders of the Church in mark's car, which i think is kind of cool, to be involved no matter where we are.  elder ballard taught that there are many, many questions in our lives, but the most important questions of our eternal lives have answers in the scriptures are words of the prophets.  i didn't take notes for the rest of the afternoon session because i was doing what i could to entertain my nephew, so that his parents could have a few uninterrupted moments to listen and maybe even take notes.  that was marginally successful.

i got to attend the priesthood session back at the conference center with my brother, which was very cool.  speaking in light of the current world situation, elder packer sagely said that we have moved from a generation of ease and luxury to one of hard work and responsibility, adding to take care of our possessions and property, to not be wasteful, and to be content with what we have.  bishop edgley reminded that continued guidance comes through fasting and prayer, while elder costa's talk about our responsibilities to our family, our employer, the Lord's work, and ourselves had so much to take in that all i could write was, "this is a good talk to study."  president uchtdorf cautioned us of focusing on the inconsequential at the expense of the profound, and asked what could be accomplished if we put away childish things?  president eyring reminded us that there are so many around us in need and danger, explaining that spiritual wounds are not easily visible except with spiritual eyes, and that we are to do for others, as best we can, what the Lord would do.  president monson told us to "be ye ready always" with the comforting reminder that this is not a time for fear, but a time for faith. 

this morning, president uchtdorf reminded us that the world is  continually offering up solutions for the problems we face, and, while some of them may contain elements of truth, only the Gospel can give us the lasting change we are seeking.  elder anderson wisely noted that we are nobody, and if we ever forget it, the Lord will remind us (and it won't be pleasant).  elder snow taught us to face a world of negativity with faith to go forward; to be of good cheer and to laugh.  sister thompson reminded us that at some time in our lives, each of us will be poor (in some way) and will need the help of another.  elder holland spoke to any who feel alone, encouraging us that, even though Jesus pleased His Father in every way, He, too, was left totally alone for a time.  but He held on.  He stood by us, and we need to stand by Him.  president monson spoke as the prophet to the world, telling us that putting the Gospel of Jesus Christ at the center of our lives will give us the strength to move on.

this afternoon, elder oaks described the contrasts between those who give selfless service, particularly in the temple, and those who live of the "me generation" with feelings of entitlement.    elder bednar spoke of what it truly means to take upon us the Name of Christ, an event that is expanded through the work in the temple.  elder stevenson encouraged us to make our home a Temple, reminding that we are never lost when we can see the Temple.  elder teixeira warned us about our conscience becoming dull and losing its guidance.  elder watson testified of the wisdom of prophets, reminding that their counsel may sometimes conflict with our political views or social life, but when we follow them, the evil around us will dispel.  elder perry cautioned us not to be missing in action when a friend, neighbor, or family member is in need.  and president monson closed the conference with admonition to study the conference talks, to ponder them, and to apply them in our lives.

there you are: ten hours of conference in five paragraphs.  i thought of making a "highlight video" of what i listed above.  instead, i second president monson: read the ensign.

in addition to what the stood out from the speakers, there were other things that kept weighing on me.  i wrote those down, too, as i think that what we think about during conference can be even more significant for us that what is in a talk.

yesterday i commented that the saturday morning session often had my favorite talks.  this conference, however, the talk that stood out to me the most was president uchtdorf's talk on sunday morning.  it was a good reminder to  stick with it, to scrub myself a bit and tidy up; to remember the basics of the Gospel, that prayer, going to Church, and reading the scriptures is the solution, reminding that discipleship is a journey.

now is the time to adjust our lives.

looking up elder anderson's press conference this afternoon (he's pretty great), i learned that the Church is on facebook and twitter, and had a youtube channel.  so there you go.

at times, i still miss president hinckley.

the alphabet of gustafsons

i've thought this would be fun to do for a while.

although, technically, i suppose it's "the gustafsons of nations."

guatamala

uganda

spain

togo

azerbaijan

fiji

sweden

oman

namibia

macedonia

angola

romania

kenya

vatican city

algeria

lesotho

japan

equatorial guinea

france

finland

brasil

estonia

china

kosovo

yugoslavia

bhutan

rwanda

austria

denmark

yemen

central african republic

armenia

latvia

egypt

belarus

thailand

iran

mexico

it feels good

it feels good to preach a lesson by the Spirit

it feels good to eat at in-n-out burger

it feels good to go hometeaching

it feels good to hold caleb

it feels good to get a text message

it feels good to go shopping with my brother

it feels good to be from minnesota

it feels good to play the bass part to boston's "long time" with my friends on rock band 2

it feels good to sleep in my bed

it feels good to go on an awesome date

it feels good to listen

it feels good to get comments on my blog

it feels good to laugh at a buster keaton movie

it feels good to hear how the fargo-moorhead ward (and community) is working together to fight the flood.

it feels good to drink apple beer from a bottle

it feels good to be in the temple

it feels good to hold a cat

it feels good to have jack steal my cinnamon toast crunch when i'm praying in apt. 104

it feels good to dance to tally hall

it feels good to be home for Christmas

it feels good to be inside during a thunderstorm

it feels good to stand up when the prophet walks in before general conference

it feels good to snowboard

it feels good to be clean

it feels good to make chocolate chip cookies with my sister

what makes you feel good?

so that's me

i've been cutting together a new demo reel over the past month. at first, i replaced only a few shots, but now that it's done, it's almost entirely new footage.

at the end of a photography class, we displayed all of our work for the semester, and it was very enlightening to see certain themes that naturally come out in a person's work. i've always been wary of making my shots look too "flat", which explains why so many of these are very shadowy. i had to go back and find some brighter ones to add in.

show off

i may have misunderstood the assignment, but i noticed a comment on em's blog about "showing off your clutter" around your home and i really liked the idea. i remember noticing several times during college how cool my desk looked covered in papers and scores of other evidences of my life.

i generally think i keep my house clean, but sometimes i look around and it seems like i'm very wrong.  as i wandered around with my camera, it seemed a bit the opposite.  yes, there's plenty of work to do, but it's nothing to condemn.

as i was waiting for these pictures to upload, i decided to continue attacking this clutter and, in pile #1, found a state farm magazine with an article on how to control the clutter in you house.

author alyson mcnutt english established the drama of clutter by interviewing the president of the home safety council, meri-k appy, who sounds like she could be one of dick van dyke's chimney sweeps.  the greatest threat of clutter is tripping and falling, although confused adults taking the wrong medicine from a cluttered medicine cabinet was also a growing threat.

call me calloused, but i wasn't too afraid yet.

like i said, i kind of like the look of the clutter.

behold.

granted, my dresser top isn't as aesthetically pleasing as some of the other areas.

it's random junk, things that don't really have any place to go: the candle warmer that's too small for the candle i bought, leftover screws from either an ikea shelf or my desk, a card with all serial numbers for kodak film stock, a comic book a friend loaned me.  do i need the assistance of a certified professional de-clutter-er like the article suggested?  no, because then she (or he, with fabulous hair) would insist i also get rid of my purple cow that i won at the fair in high and my costa rican ocarina, and those are staying.  they just need a home.

a few nights ago, i discovered a secret.  around midnight, i picked up something.  and i put it away.  then i picked up something else and put it away.  the whole pile was formidable, but taking things that definitely had a place to go (and the trash can was not uncommon) slowly and surely cut the monsters down to size.  i went to bed at 2:30 with a great sense of accomplishment.

when i was 16, i cleaned my room one day, and it generally stayed clean for the remainder of my teenage years.  i did alright in 104; the rooms were small enough that there wasn't much room to clutter up anyway (can any roommates confirm or deny this fuzzy memory?).

but since i've moved here, it seems that i've never been able to get it "clean."  there's always been clutter.  occasionally it gets pushed to the sides, but if you don't eliminate it entirely, it grows back pretty soon.

clutter exists all around.

when my mom comes to visit, i usually ask her to help me attack some part of the house, and when she leaves, the room looks complete different and much better.  it's just nice to have someone to bounce ideas off of, or to help me stay on task.  recently, i've been asking becky and caleb to come over.  my sister hangs out in my room and is a mom to her boy, but it's enough that i can talk and stay focused and actually get a lot done.

without someone, i leave through a few papers, throw one away, then check and see if criterion's updated their site in the last fifteen minutes.

i hardly consider this clutter.  i think stacks of books just look cool.

there's no space to neatly store the rock band toys, but the trade-off for fun and joy is so great it's not even a sacrifice.

my quest for clean is not for fear or death or injury or to entertain guests (i do tidy up the main floor before movie nights), but much more of a zen basis. when my room is clean (genuinely), i can breathe better, i can move better. my chi is more in harmony and i can go forth and be awesome.

so perhaps it is a life or death situation, but in much more of a cosmic sense.  someday, i will achieve my domestic nirvana.

jen's tag: five things

a number of months ago, jaime tagged me to list six little-known things about myself.  i did it and it was fun.

then jen tagged me.  it took me a while to know that i was actually tagged, because she often refers to me as "goose".

so, here's round 2:

the zero: the tag said five things, but, as i just mentioned "goose", i may as well explain that.  in japanese, the best way i could adapt "gustafson" was "gu-su-ta-fu-son."  what was once cumbersome enough with three syllables was now a mouthful of five, and it very soon became a nuisance.  so, it was soon shortened to "gu-su", i.e. "goose."  not the coolest animal name in the world (that goes to "lazar wolf" from fiddler on the roof), but i came to love it.  the name became so established that one missionary was surprised to learn that my name was not actually "jeff goose."

in situations where there are multiple "jeffs" (usually on film shoots) i revert back to "goose".  thus, the only people who call me "goose" anymore are either rooted in the mission or a few select movie projects. but i still like it.

the first: i have an "old man leg."  as in, "i can predict the weather."  actually, it's just the seasonal change from winter to spring and from summer to fall; from hot to cold or vice versa.  it started when i was around the end of high school, and the basic idea is that my right tibia (my shin bone) feels like it's rotting from the inside out.  depending on how i step on it, it can really hurt.  so much that my mom sent me to the hospital for x-rays because, when i suggested that maybe it's like an old man leg, she astutely noted that i was too young for an old man leg.  nevertheless, the tests came back negative and it still hurts twice a year.  i've never charted it to see how long after the "rotting" does the season generally change; though i may not know the date, i know it's coming.  and i'm guessing i'll start feeling it soon...

the second: i quite enjoy going to the grocery store.  there's an inherent excitement about a grocery store for me that i've had ever since i was a little kid.  i like the freshness of all the vegetables, all the different cuts of meats, the chill of the dairy section.  it seems i mostly like the perimeter of the store (which, as em recently noted, is the healthiest part anyway).  i like stopping to notice and try new things i usually pass by (alton brown noted that the modern grocery store has over 10,000 different items, yet most shoppers rarely deviate from a list of about 100 items).  yes, it's just a grocery store, but part of me sees it like an exciting library, stocked full of new, undiscovered adventures.

the third:  i like being one on one with people.  there's a different shift when it's just two people.  people seem to be more trusting, and conversations become more honest and meaningful.  for some reason, no matter how good of friends people are, when the numbers go down to two, it's different.  not always, but often.  and, usually, i like that.

the fourth:  i held the unofficial world record for the longest snow tube chain.  we were at a ward tubing activity at soldier hollow.  one of the workers said that a group that was there the week before asked about such a world record.  they called the guiness book and there was no established entry yet, so, technically, what they did would be the longest.  i think they linked sixty-some tubes together and went down.

well, that was challenge enough for us.  a group of us gathered about a third the way down the hill and established ourselves there and began calling at others as they were arriving at the top of the hill.  it took us two tries, as the front lines broke once and sent us down the hill before we could get set, but, on our second run, i think we had about 85 people in on it.  there was no representative from guiness there to certify our work, but, in our hearts, we were the champions.

that monday, why my photography teacher asked if anyone did anything cool over the weekend, i announced our accomplishment.  "now that's the kind of 'excitement' i'm talking about!" he said.

the fifth: i was "tape man."  tape man didn't really catch on, but that's beside the point.  

in the early years of the new millennium, byu's student film council once hatched a unique promotional idea for the annual student film festival: a giant vhs tape mascot.  the details leading up to the day allude me, and i don't remember if i was ever consulted beforehand, but i somehow ended up being the one inside the amateur mascot.  cosmo the cougar jumps on trampolines, rides a skateboard down arena stairs, and shoots a t-shirt cannon.  the tape man costume was a heavy, blocky foam contraption with a face-screen that sat at about my throat and two arm holes in the front.  the way the costume rode on me, i could only extend my forearms, bent at the elbows, leaving me with less mobility than the earliest incarnations of r2-d2.

with my identity safely concealed, i waddled out into the byu quad, guided by a few other film students, to hand out "final cut" flyers.  because the face-screen was four inches below my mouth, no one could hear me, and so i wasn't much different than a vending machine with t-rex arms, handing out information for yet another student activity.  

at one point, someone slapped all of the flyers from my hands onto the ground.  i couldn't see in front of me, but realized that, if they were still within range, i could just fall forward, letting the practical joker be body-slammed by a giant vhs cassette.  as i was pondering how i would get up and what would happen to my protruding arms in the process, i heard one of the film student girls come over and yell at my attacker.  with nothing else to do, i struck the best "jazz hands" i could muster and did a little dance.

as these are five little-known things about me, i suppose i should establish five things i presume you know about me:

a. i can sing, but i can't dance
b. i'm fascinated with the old testament
c. i'm a sucker for the criterion collection
d. i love dark chocolate, swiss cheese, and salt and vinegar chips (not all together)
e. i love san dimas

i tag brady, tim, mark, and em.

i hearted today

selected reasons why today was awesome:

*i went running.  my nike+ipod thinger wouldn't sync with my shoe, but it still played music, and i ran down the provo river trail.  felt great.

*i ran around town with tim, just having fun being brothers.  beautiful weather and the windows down, we discussed the importance of zombie defense preparations, mused the myriad of good and not-so-good movies for sale at f.y.e., and wondered why only wal-mart carries the excellent crunchy natural skippy peanut butter.

*celebrating pi day at the village inn.  what was initially conceived as a few friends before stake conference easily blossomed into a big group of great people.  last year i got [the last slice of] pecan pie.  this year i got caramel silk pecan supreme.  mark got pecan (since he didn't get it last year), and i think he made the better choice.

*heard prairie home companion on the radio on the way to stake conference.  it was delightful and funny.  my love for garrison keillor grows with my age.

*stake conference.  the first line on my page of notes says, "it is good for us to be here."

*excellent jazz on npr while waiting at the stoplight.  savoring the little sublime moments.

*and i'm loving my new stacey kent cd as i write.

the 18th man

just have the courage to stand up, walk away

change the channel, refuse to stay

--the chorus to the "choose good media" song from the "for the strength of youth" musical tape that i discovered on my mission.  i had a dance that went along with it.

i went to see the sacrifice by andrei tarkovsky last night at the international cinema.  he makes long, slow movies; i know that.  i've seen three of his movies (and he only made seven or eight in all), and love two of them.  but they do require a lot of thought and effort on the part of the viewer.  summed up, his movies center around ponderous, pensive people discussing and debating grand philosophical questions of life.  not much else happens.  and, in my experience, it usually works.

i liked that the movie had only four shots in the first fifteen minutes.  i liked the discussions and questions.  i loved the sudden shot of the little boy jumping out of nowhere.  and it was interesting that the film was actually made (and spoken) in sweden.  and that a lot of ingmar bergman's crew worked on it.

but it soon became very slow and despairing, with a small group of people sitting around an empty, isolated house bemoaning that tragic state of the world.  and not in the good, bergman's seventh seal way, but more in the depressing bergman's through a glass darkly way.  and i was barely an hour into this two and a half hour movie.  and i wasn't pretty sure it wasn't going to "pick up."

soon, it became a battle of pride.  i noticed a few people walk out after twenty minutes.  "amatuers," i thought to myself.  i refused to look at the clock; that just makes it go slower.  maybe i could get sucked into the movie.  despite it violating a serious code of the darkened theater, i checked my phone, hoping to text someone to share the boredom.  i didn't want to leave because even if i didn't want to see the movie, i wanted to have seen the movie.  i'm interested in tarkovsky, i presumed that the ending would payoff.  i wanted to see what other people appreciated about this.

during the first hour and a half, i counted seventeen people leave.

i was the eighteenth.

[natalie, you're right: it's hard to get in the habit of writing again]

no man is an island

i bore my testimony today in church.  i usually don't, because i teach sunday school every other week and people hear my testimony at the end of the lesson.  twice a month is more often that if i got up every fast sunday, and that seemed like enough "jeff" for the ward.

at least, it did until a few months ago, when a girl came to the pulpit and shared the similar feeling of not wanting to be a "regular" up there.  then she noted that if she did get up every month to bear her testimony, that would only be twelve times in a year.  pretty sad, really.

walking home along 900 east many years ago, my friend and i stopped at the stoplight, waiting to cross.  as missionaries, our testimony was kept exercised and polished, able to come forth at a moment's notice.  now that the black tag was off, we didn't do it as much, yet didn't see a reason why we shouldn't.  in the twilight of the evening, on the corner of the sidewalk, dane and i bore our testimonies of what we knew to be true.  

our testimony needs to be continually used, stretched, and shared.  president harold b. lee noted that it is as fragile as a moonbeam, and needs to be recaptured each day.  president boyd k. packer told us to bear testimony not only of things we know are true, but of things that we hope are true.  bearing our testimony is a wonderful way to repent ourselves, as our words can save another and erase our own sins.

i once heard of a rabbi speaking at byu.  he said that many people there probably looked at him felt bad that he couldn't eat pork.  rather than being upset that he couldn't enjoy a delicious pork chop, the rabbi observed that God was so interested and concerned with him and his life that he even cared about what the man ate.

God is concerned with us and watches us.  He not only sees what we do or don't eat, but the decisions we make.  He knows the choices we make in our hearts, the battles we fight and the hard choices we make that no one sees.  He sees our sacrifices, our extended kindnesses, and the invisible acts of service and love that we give to those that seem to go unnoticed.

heck, you can bare your testimony over a text message.

what did helvetica tell you today?

talking with my drawing teacher during an extended water break several years ago in the old brimhall building, i noticed a sign for a "typography" class.  i could only surmise that this was the study of type, but that didn't make much sense; what was there to study about type?

a few years later, a friend was telling me about her typography class, learning about serifs and other such things; things i had never considered, but what sounded strangely interesting.  it was around this time that i also read this article, following through the design process, and i realized that i had an innate fascination with typography and graphic design.

a few weeks ago on itunes i was watching the trailer for daft punk's electroma and noticed a related link to a movie called "helvetica".  only recently did i learn that was a type font, but didn't know enough to know there could be a movie about it.  

the trailer looked good.

the orem library had it.

i loved it.

it never occurred to me that people actually design fonts, or that they're still designing fonts.  like so many other things, it's a subject that you don't think about until you start thinking about it.  but up until this personal paradigm shift, i figured that most fonts were discovered within a reasonable time after gutenberg.  certainly helvetica, the most ubiquitous and invisible of the them all, had been around centuries.

actually, it turned 50 in 2007.

the documentary looked at where the type came from- designed in switzerland, the name is a slight modification of the roman name for switzerland, and you can walk to a room, open the cabinet, and literally hold "helvetica" itself in your hand.  the movie talked with designers around the world about how and why this font very quickly spread everywhere and into everything.  why it looks so nice, why we respond it, and why it's responsible for the war in iraq (the lady said that one with a wink).

while it is about type, graphic design, and helvetica, these topics very easily slid into how we think and react, and what society tells us, often without realizing it in any way.  fonts are the messenger for everything we read.  as one of my earlier posts this year showed, it can be fun to look a little wider and notice the typography all around us.  helvetica is everywhere: i was pointing it out on the way to the draper temple open house today.  watching a japanese movie this morning, i noticed that the subtitles were in helvetica.

there's something very exciting about the first cracks into an entirely new field of knowledge, taking the initial realization of how little you know, and how fresh it is.  if any of this is remotely interesting to you, check out the movie.  it's 80 minutes long, and i will eventually own it.  i'm happy to loan it.

in my 2-D design class, our first assignment was to design an alphabet.  had i known what i know now, that would have been a much harder assignment (and i probably would have done a much better job).

picture of a thursday morning

i dreamt in animation last night.

that was a new one.

it was in "family guy" style animation.

and when i woke up, i was late for work.

so, there you go.