Tuesday, September 13, 2005

Minda called and we spoke about... stuff... stuff that probably wouldn't be interesting to anyone besides us. I love Melinda! And Melinda and Colby like my T.B. song. So take that, Dave! Whose song sucks now? jk Other interesting topics included the chastity couch, Captain Amiable, and the news that the random LDS bookstore in Minda's Texas town is plastered with pictures of LDS pseudo-celebrity and former neighborhood pimp, "D." It's awesome. I also found it interesting that, all this time, Minda thought I lived in the neighborhood for a long time, when really I had just moved in that summer, because she thought I had "an established social network."

At the time, that place was such a great neighborhood. It was artsy and bohemian. People would hang out inside their open garages playing music and painting, neighbor Dave painted a piano, we used to project super8 movies on the side of the house, and people were just generally really cool. Okay, I realize this maybe sounds a little white trash. But it wasn't. The two and half years I spent living in that neighborhood, three miles away from BYU, was the only time I felt like a genuine college student. Unfortunately, when I came back from my mission, somehow my haven-from-BYU turned into a wanna-be frat neighborhood.

In other news, my brother, Dale, called today and we spoke for the first time in six years. To clarify, we didn't stop talking for any particular reason. It's just that there's a rather large age gap between us, and after our dad died, we really didn't see much of each other. Anyway, it was really great to talk with him. He's doing well and is playing music full-time. I'm glad to be following in the music career footsteps of my dad and other siblings. Dale said something interesting about music education. It was something to the effect that, of course we would be disappointed if we were training kids to be professional musicians. But music education is more about teaching students how to enjoy and appreciate music, while teaching them to express themselves.