Eric Barrios (dot) Com

People are often surprised when I tell them that I still skateboard.  Some stare at me joyfully, with happy memories showing in their eyes of some past activity they received delight from.  Others laugh and ask me if I’m still 12 years old.

Last week, my long time friend Tom Vrab made the trek from LA to Mission Viejo so that we could go skateboarding.  It has been about a year since Tom and I last hung out.  We were both pretty excited to skate and catch up on things.  Little did Tom know, but I had another old friend with me: our skate box.  We have had this box since we were in high school, and countless hours were spent practicing tricks on it day after day.  It was put into storage at my Dad’s house for a few years, since Tom and his brother Tony moved and could not take it with them.  A few days before Tom visited, I dug it out and cleaned it up a bit so that we could partake in the nostalgia and fun of skating our old companion.

While skateboarding, Tom and I took photos of each other doing a few tricks.  These tricks are nothing to soil one’s underwear over, and would probably be laughed at by many younger skaters today.  However, neither of us has skated a ledge in at least a year, and it was exciting and encouraging to see how quickly old tricks came back to us.  Since this was a trip back in time for Tom and I, none of the photos have been touched up, just like when we used to capture shots of each other back in high school.  If I’d planned ahead, I probably would have shot on film.

Hope this brings joy to some people and encourages others to dust off their old board or bike or whatever fun contraption they have and go get some laughs and smiles.

Traveling is a very curious activity.  One goes to another part of the world, simply for the sake of being somewhere else.  Yet somehow, through this process, one returns home a little different than when they left.

A team of 24 people from Mission Hills Community Church recently went to Kenya for 17 days.  I was one member of that team.  I love Africa, and this was the third time that I had been given the pleasure of visiting.  Though I was hesitant about going at first, due to my changing opinion regarding short term mission trips, the Lord’s will eventually prevailed, and I found myself ready to embark on another adventure in Africa.  There was a long process of preparation, as our team raised the funds and developed a plan for what we would be doing while in Kenya.  The team itself turned out to be extraordinarily united and cooperative.  This was a huge blessing, as anyone who has traveled with a chaotic and annoying group can attest.  Our fearless leaders, Chuck and Julie Adamo, gave us vision and encouragement for the trip.  They worked to equip all of us to be prepared, in order that they might be able to do as little “leading” as possible.  This allowed the group to act responsibly, for the most part.  The Adamos also informed us that there would be a lot of free time during the trip, which would allow us to sit with the locals and have conversations.  I was very pleased to hear this, because that was my main goal for the trip.  So, after months of planning, our team met at LAX on August 1 and set out for Kenya (with a short stop in London).

I have to admit that I wasn’t thrilled about stopping in London.  I’ve been there, and, while there is great history and visuals to the city, I wasn’t looking forward to taking a 3 hour bus tour of stuff that I had already seen.  This would be more painful in light of the fact that we had just gotten off an 11 hour flight, and the last thing we wanted to do was sit down.  However, it was a short layover in London, and the next morning we were off to Kenya by way of another 9 hour flight.

The details of the trip will be explained briefly, for it would take up far too much computer space to describe all of the intricacies of this excursion.  I will try to explain enough to make it interesting, however.  We landed in Nairobi, were we stayed for one night before catching another short flight to Kitale.  This is where we would be primarily operating out of.  For the first few nights in Kitale, we stayed at ICM, a local Christian organization that has a seminary school and does other work throughout the area.  It is my goal to one day be able to teach at a school like that in Africa, so I was pleased to experience the environment of it.  It was also there that I convinced a girl in our group that the eggs we were being fed were rhinoceros eggs.

Just a short distance away from ICM was a water well that our church had actually had installed for the people of the area.  A couple years ago, Julie Carson found out about a group that installs wells all over the world, providing clean water for people who lack the resources we are blessed with here.  She brought it to our church’s attention, and a water drive was held which drew in enough money to install a number of wells around the world.  One happened to be near Kitale.  Our team visited the well and got to hear firsthand from the locals how it has turned their community around.  Mothers explained to us that their children used to have diseases from the river they drank out of (and washed their clothes and animals in, and used as a toilet, and bathed in).  Now that they have a water well which provides clean drinking water, the children have had no water related illnesses, and thus have been able to attend school regularly and enjoy their childhood a bit more.  Something as simple as clean water improved the lives of a community substantially.

While in Kitale, we also had the pleasure of meeting a living saint, Sister Freda.  She created a hospital in Kitale, in response to the difficulty of obtaining healthcare at the regular hospitals in the area.  Freda had been working as a nurse, and her heart broke for the number of people that were denied health care and suffered unnecessarily, due to a corrupt system.  She started her own hospital, with the help of her husband Richard, and it has been flourishing ever since.  Freda never denies a person service.  Her method is that they always treat the patient first, and ask for payment after.  If the person is incapable of paying, then they work something out, often times letting the person go for free.  Surprisingly, her hospital has always had enough resources, and she never worried about people taking advantage of her system.  She had so much faith that God would always provide for her, and He did.  When we visited her, she told us her life story and showed us around her home and hospital, which also includes and orphanage and a nursing school.  We had the pleasure of presenting her with some medical supplies that we had brought on the trip to donate.  She was overjoyed, which is how she seemed to react over every little thing.  On another not, our team grew closer to Freda and her establishment than we had planned, as a number of our members contracted malaria and I myself had the pleasure of experiencing typhoid for a day.  Thankfully, I had received the vaccine before embarking on the trip, so once it kicked in, the disease died away and I simply had to keep to some antibiotics.  It was a miserable day, though.

Besides visiting Freda’s hospital, our team also received an opportunity that people tend not to take on these trips, that of visiting a few of the prisons.  So, the back-story is that our team had planned on visiting two prisons at the same time, where we would be split into two groups to visit the prisoners and share a little of our story and the hope of the Gospel with them.  However, when we arrived, we were quickly informed that we would be attending to four prisons, which would stretch the limits of our groups ability to be dispersed.  Our group had a higher percentage of females, yet there was only one female prison and three male ones.  Therefore, the few males we had in the group had to be split into groups of three and sent into the prisons, deciding on the spot who would speak and share.  Members of the team began to be worried and annoyed that we hadn’t had preparation for this, yet we were able to cut off the worry and just make it happen, trusting on the Lord to let the prisoners hear what they needed.  My group consisted of Juan Rada, Andrew Atkinson, and myself.  We met the welfare officer of the prison, who had a serious laugh over Juan’s name (like one, two?!), and he led us before a group of about 300 men.  Speaking before them was a little intimidating at first, but it quickly felt more comfortable and we managed to encourage them for a little bit before leaving due to rain.  The welfare officer thanked us very heartily, explaining that even though it may seem like a very small thing that we had done, it was very important to the prisoners.  Unfortunately, these men never receive visitors.  Many of them are innocent and are in prison awaiting a long delayed trial.  Since it is culturally shaming to go to prison, their families essentially disown them while they are incarcerated.  They never receive visits.  For us to come and acknowledge them as human beings increased morale and gave them hope.

After spending a few days in Kitale, we packed up the vans and made a long drive up Mt. Elgon.  This area is situated only a few miles from the Ugandan border, up in high elevation.  It was a beautiful and fun drive, sloshing through the muddy roads that led up the mountain.  Every house we passed, the children would run out to the road, eager to wave and greet us.  It’s safe to assume that road doesn’t get much traffic.  Upon reaching Fruited Plains and ICM up on the mountain, we were quickly led to the farmland and had the pleasure of planting trees and beans.  The point was to give us the opportunity to experience what Fruited Plains does up there for the community.

A quick biography on Fruited Plains: a few years back, Mike and Michelle Robison visited Mt. Elgon with another church, and they fell in love with the people of that area.  In 2007, the Siboat tribe up on Mt. Elgon fell victim to tribal warfare, during which time the SLDF went through and slaughtered many of the males and other members of the tribe.  The people were in turmoil and the tribe was on its last leg of survival.  The Robisons heard about this and decided to help the tribe get back on their feet.  They started Fruited Plains, a non-profit that provides the community with food and economy.  Basically, they gave the people seeds for their maize and other crops that they are able to harvest twice a year, rather than the regular once a year.  This has given them an advantage over other harvesters, and improved their lives.  The Robisons taught the people how to distribute the crops for profit, and manage it in order to have plenty of food for their own homes.  It has turned the community around, as we heard many widows and men testify about.  They spoke of being on the verge of starvation, and now having food every day for their families.  It was amazing to see something so simple have such an incredible effect.

So while on Mt. Elgon, we visited with the widows and children and different families, spending time with them and listening to their stories.  Having the opportunity to share their story is one of the greatest blessings to these people.  They share with the hope that when we return to America, we will tell others about them and they will not be unknown.  We also attended church up there.  African church is a wonderful thing.  It’s similar to church in America and all around the world, but different in many of the right ways.

On Monday morning, I awoke to depart, and I felt the effects of Typhoid.  This was the day when I would return to Freda’s hospital to be diagnosed and receive antibiotics, as I already explained.  It was the one miserable day of the trip for me, and I warned people to just leave me alone because I was definitely going to be grumpy.  They thanked me for the warning and gave me space to just push through the discomfort.

After leaving Elgon, the group returned to Kitale and began preparations for the VBS we would be doing for Children of Hope.  This is a home that was started by Africa’s most beautiful couple, Abraham and Summery.  They basically receive orphans and then raise them at the site until the children are adults.  They don’t try to adopt them out, but simply take them in and provide all they need so they can grow in a good environment and hopefully have a good future.  They had asked our group to do a Vacation Bible School for the children of the area.  So we set up crafts and games and music and Bible stories for about 700 children from the area for three days.  It was a blast.  Even our drivers helped play with the children and enjoyed themselves.  It is interesting that in Kenya there is still a stigma that spending time with children is a woman’s job, so three of our drivers were reluctant to get involved.  Yet, on the second day, there they were, playing and laughing with the kids.  It rained quite a bit, as well, so many of us ended the days covered in mud.  It was a bit of a challenge working with interpreters, since all of the kids spoke Swahili.  It was also quite an experience to teach children who had never seen crayons before how to color.  The people at Children of Hope were overjoyed with the VBS, constantly praising Jesus for what He was doing for the children of the area.  They informed us that they are trying to get on a routine of doing one or two VBSs a year, so the children can look forward to it as a regular event.  The VBS we led was the third one they had put on since they opened the home.

The youth conference was the next order of business once the VBS was concluded.  Many of the youth on Mt. Elgon (between about 15 and 25 years old) had been requesting a youth conference where they could hear speakers and converse with foreigners and share their own stories.  The Robisons helped make this happen, and our group was involved in putting on a two day youth conference.  A few hundred youth showed up, some walking from great distances to attend.  A number of the local pastors spoke, as well as many members of our team.  I shared a portion of my story with the goal of emphasizing how important it is to be merciful with others in life.  The pastors had told us what the youth needed to hear and apply in their lives, so we used examples from our own lives to share teaching with them.  A few of the local youth shared their own testimonies, as well.  Some shared for incredibly long times, but that has to be expected in Africa.  They definitely love to talk.

My favorite portion of the youth conference was a time when we split into groups of about 10-15 locals with one or two from our team, and we simply asked questions and had conversations with each other.  Some of the locals had very bizarre questions.  Among the worst were “Why are you only allowed to have two children in America”, “Why are you required to marry your sister in America”, and my favorite, “If I move to America, how long will it take for my skin to change to your color?”  Beside the odd questions, they inquired about very important topics, asking what we teach in America concerning different struggles and problems.  There were also general questions shared between us concerning what conditions were like in America or Kenya.  This was what I was looking forward to most on the trip, having opportunities to talk with the locals and understand their world a little better.

When the youth conference ended, the team’s official duties for the trip were over.  However, I was given a special assignment.  With one days notice, I was informed that I would be preaching that Sunday at church.  I am not very good at responding to impromptu situations like this, so I stressed out quite a bit at first.  However, I went into work mode and prayed a lot until God gave me a lesson I could preach.  We arrived at church that Sunday, and when I was invited up to the front to speak, I basically went into autopilot and spoke what God gave me, trusting His Spirit to guide it.  This is typically how I speak in that setting.  The stress shuts off and teaching mode kicks in.  Apparently I did alright, as the team and the local pastors were very pleased.  The lesson God gave me was actually right in line with the topic the pastor had been preaching on for a few weeks.  I spoke on “calling” and the things God calls us to do in our lives, with an emphasis on the specific callings He gives individuals and the universal callings He gives to everyone equally.

Once Sunday morning was over, I knew that all that was left was the journey back to Nairobi and the drive down to the Maasai Mara for a safari.  Even though I think safaris are nonessential for a missions trip, I really enjoy them so I was thrilled that I would get to go on another one.  It was a long drive out to the game reserve, during which time we passed through the Great Rift Valley.  I gave a short science lesson in my van concerning the valley’s significance for its fossils and whatnots.  After passing a number of Maasai villages, we eventually came to a beautiful area where tents were set up under shading trees, out in the open African country.  I couldn’t help feeling like an old explorer, staying in a tent surrounded by local tribes, adventuring through the African unknown.  We had an evening safari scheduled, as well as a morning one the next day.  A couple of our drivers shared some great stories with us about the antics they had seen while doing safaris.  Antony told the story of a lady who though it would be a good idea to get out of her van to take pictures of an elephant.  The elephant charged her, pushed her onto the hood of her van, and stomped her until there was nothing left but a mess.  Antony told it to emphasize that they are really afraid of elephants.  Lions, however, they consider as little more than dogs.  None of them are afraid of lions.  I found this information very interesting.

The rains came on our drive out to the evening safari, and naturally two of our vans got stuck in a large mud field.  It took a lot of work to get them out, and a number of people in our group got completely drenched while standing outside of their vans.  I looked out our windshield at one point and saw Tony Adamo standing under an umbrella pissing in front of his van in the torrential rain.  When a couple local kids ran by, he quickly zipped up.

Once the vans were released from their muddy bondage, we proceeded through the Jurassic Park gates of the game reserve and continued our evening safari.  We encountered a number of zebras and wildebeest, and eventually saw giraffe and water buffalo.  Then, we headed up a road toward a large gathering of vans.  Upon arrival, we witnessed the last moments of two lions getting it on.  The lions finished, and proceeded to lay around, catching their breath for round two of their freaky love dance.  I tried to get George, my driver, to get me close enough to punch one of the lions in the face, but he wouldn’t do it.

The next morning proved to be a much more enjoyable safari, as there was no rain, clear skies, and plenty of animals about.  There were lions all over the place.  At one point, after viewing a lioness walking through the tall grass, my hat blew off my head and I had to get out and go running through the grass to retrieve it.  Some of my fellow team members thought this was a bad idea, but I returned without having to beat up any lions.  They got off easy that time.  At one point, we encountered a lioness just moments after she had made a wildebeest kill.  She was completely out of breath, and the wildebeest lay ripped open just a few yards away from her.

After encountering more of the same animals, we left the reserve and proceeded back to Nairobi to prepare to depart home.  It was hard to believe that the trip had already passed.  Most of us probably would have stayed and continued traveling, if given the option.  I’m sure many of us will be returning in the future.  Our drivers were surprisingly sentimental and sorry to see us leave.  After such a long time, they had grown quite fond of us.  We had broken down their tough-guy exteriors and really bonded with them.  It was sad to say goodbye.  I will continue praying for those drivers, especially Ronnie, who we sensed had some real troubles to work out in his life.

The flight home consisted of watching movies and building up an appetite for an In N Out 4×4 burger waiting at home.  The team was sad to be leaving Africa, but looked forward to getting back into their normal routines and feeling in their element again.  I couldn’t wait to get home and throw away junk.  Though the changes were subtle, I did feel I was going home with less noise in my life than I left with.  It felt like I had grown a little more expressive and outgoing, able to talk to others a little more comfortably.  Let’s not ruin the end of the story by getting all deep and emotional, though.  For the most part, I just looked forward to crapping in my own toilet.

It was inevitable, but it is finally happening.  A number of us have decided to engage in a competition of creating a top-ten Simpsons episodes list.  The contest began when Ryan Moore sent me a friendly text suggesting that we should make our lists within a week.  I proceeded to get Jeff Phillips involved, and Ryan proceeded to draft Andrew into the tournament, and now our friendly game has turned into a serious war of tactics and precision.  There are whispers of some utilizing dry-erase boards and flow charts, other reviewing every episode made, and false information being spread of supposed  choices.  It has truly become a battle of whits and stupidity.  The winning episodes will be posted once they are completed, supposing we all survive.

On Friday, February 25, a large amount of people, who most certainly have some sort of disorder, met to participate in the Rental Car Rally.  This is basically an overland scavenger hunt that took place from Los Angeles to Lake Tahoe.  Along the way, teams have to find landmarks that most people don’t even know exist.  The teams have to be dressed according to a theme, and they are encouraged to rent a car, though this is not required.  Among the themes this time were Star Wars, Dangerous Catch, Famous Bruces, Top Gun, The Town, a bunch of random costumes with no real consistency, and our team, Mario Brothers.  I do believe we had the best theme, since few teams appeared to take the theme accent as seriously this time.

The Rally started at 9:00 PM, but things didn’t really get underway until about 11.  Everyone met at the Toyota Raceway in Irwindale.  Our team is the same as the last Rally we were in, consisting of Jeff Phillips, Cookie, Brady, and myself.  At the start, the raceway actually let all of the teams drive on the track.  Brady was driving our car, and if anyone knows Brady, they know that this was an opportunity he simply relished.  After driving the track a few times, our team pulled over to figure out exactly where we had to go to find the landmarks.  Brady plotted them all on a GPS program, and the program immediately proceeded to erase all of the plotted points right after Brady finished.  So we decided to go and figure it out on the way.

The first stop was to find the musical road from the Honda commercials.  This is located in Lancaster.  We found the intersection online, but when we arrived we discovered that there are two intersections with the same cross-streets.  So we had to drive back across the freeway to the right intersection.  I should mention that the goal of the rally is to find the landmarks with the lowest possible miles gained on your car.  Therefore, we were unhappy to add on these unnecessary miles.  The next stop was a couple of old mines that were up in the mountains in the high desert.  To get to the mines, we had to drive off road for ten miles through a number of trails.  Many people got lost or stuck.  We actually found the mines fairly easily, since our phone GPS worked, and a crazy old man who lived out there with his pet chupacabra told us where to find them.  It began snowing a lot while we were driving, which made off road driving in cars just that much more interesting.  Only one of the mines was actually found.  I don’t think any of the teams found the second one, though many tried for a long time.  After finding the mine, I took the wheel and proceeded to drive the trails and get us back onto the main road.  We flew past a few teams that were attempting to wave us down for help on the trails.  Oh well.

The next stop was to find some boulders that had supposedly been painted by Indians.  We had to make a few passes before finding them, because it was still night and completely dark outside.  After we found the boulders, we stopped with the other teams and let Brady and Cookie joust.  From there, we proceeded toward the town of Darwin, CA.  I was still driving, and I had been awake for about 24 hours at this point.  Everyone began dozing off in the car, and I found my eyes getting heavy.  All of a sudden, I woke to the sound of our tires hitting the bumps on the edge of the road.  I thought I was fine after that, but about five minutes later I woke up again hitting the bumps on the other side of the road.  At this point, I decided it was time for someone else to drive.

Jeff drove us up to Darwin, an old abandoned mining town.  It was a strange little town, tucked away in the hills in the desert.  There were many picturesque old homes that the miners had occupied.  Brady found it entertaining to test the structural integrity of these homes by climbing on them.  Cookie decided to test them by pooping off the edge of one.  To my dismay, I was required to film it by Jeff, while he took photos.  The worst part is that Cookie began eating cupcakes in the car immediately afterward without washing his hands.

From Darwin, we went to a dried up lake bed that was anticlimactic.  We stopped at Carls Jr. to get breakfast (which was terrible), and continued toward some hot springs near Bishop.  Unfortunately, all of us fell asleep in the car and Cookie missed the turn for the hot springs.  We didn’t find out until we were 30 miles past, so we opted not to backtrack.  We reached a road block where we were required to put on chains.  This was fun, since we discovered that our chains were too big for the car.  A Cal trans worker sold us some chains and charged us to put them on, but we finally got on our way again.  For about half an hour, there was almost no snow at all on the road, and we were forced to only go 30 MPH due to the chains.  Finally, Brady got pissed and pulled over to take the chains off.  Just a couple miles after that, the snow showed up.  The roads were covered and it was coming down pretty heavily.  Brady refused to pull over, however, and continued without chains.  Amazingly, the car made it just fine.

We arrived at Mono Lake, were the team of famous Bruces proceeded to silly-string Jeff as they were about to drive away.  Jeff managed to nail them with a few snowballs, hitting the passenger in the face and the driver in the back of the head.  They told us later that they had snow in their shirts for the next half an hour.  Also, another team of race-desert guys poured maple syrup on our windshield before driving away.  A thirst for vengeance instantly welled in our hearts.

The rest of the trip up to Tahoe was fairly uneventful.  We finally got to the hotel, car covered in eggs and silly string.  We waited around our hotel room until the after-party.  In our spare time, Jeff decided that it was time to take vengeance on the race-desert guys.  He and I proceeded to search in the zero-degree night until we found their car.  When we found it, we proceeded to allow their tires to breath until they had no more breath in them.  Jeff used a dinner knife and I used my keys to gently depress their valve stems.  The air releasing from the tires nearly froze our hands as it came out.  Bystanders nearly stopped us a few times, but they typically just asked us not to mess with their car.  They had nothing to fear.  Our vengeance was set on one team.  We then went back to the after-party, giggling at the thought of the following morning when the group of hungover guys would find themselves unable to drive home.

Overall, the Rally was a plethora of excitement and did not disappoint.  I should make a note of the fact that Jeff was sick the whole time, and the night of the after-party, his sickness expressed itself in a very interesting way.  Throughout the night, I was constantly woken up by flatulence that I’m pretty sure registered on the Richter Scale.  I cannot express the vehemence with which these farts continuously disturbed my sleep.  If there had been a cup of water next to me, I probably would have looked down at it, thought a T-Rex was approaching, and taken Alan Grant’s advice not to move (because a T-Rex’s eyesight is supposedly based on motion). I should also note that on the way home, we stopped at In N Out to eat and Jeff said he would take the driving from there.  He waited a little too long for a light to change, freaked out, and shouted that he was done driving while pulling over so someone else could take the wheel.  The rest of the way home, we thanked him numerous times for contributing his 100 yards of driving.

Last weekend saw the continuation of a great tradition.  The St. Valentine’s Day Massacre has been happening every year around Valentine’s Day for close to 10 years now (maybe 8?).  Every year sees new friends come and old friends miss out.  This year, Geoff Walchli, a long time attendee, was unable to enjoy the festivities.  Such is married life.  However, Jeff Phillips was able to join us again (I think he’s a lifer now) and Cookie came for the first time.  There was a bit of trepidation about the weekend, as the forecast claimed that it would rain the entire time.  However, we decided to pursue with the tradition regardless.  We encountered rain on the trek out to our secret location for destruction, but found it somewhat peaceful when we arrived.  That soon changed, however, when the wind picked up and the rain finally decided to join our shindig.  Everyone gathered around the fire and enjoyed hot dogs and zingers.  The desert is a wonderful place for fat-people food.

Eventually, everyone went to their sleeping locations.  Brady discovered that his tent had been flooded, and he proceeded to sleep in the dirt under the canopy (which he usually does anyway).  Jeff and Cookie shared a tent (Ooh La La!) and I slept in the bed of my truck, under a wonderful camper shell.  In the middle of the night, I awoke to near sea-sickness, as my truck rocked back and forth in the wind.  I looked outside and saw Jeff and Cookie scrambling to secure their tent in the wind and rain, while Brady huddled under the canopy in his sleeping bag.  My heart went out to them as I watched from the comfort of my camper shell and zero-degree sleeping bag.

The following morning was beautiful.  The clouds had retreated, and we awoke ready to shoot crap.  The air was cold, but the sun soon made it bearable.  We quickly broke out the guns and began having fun.  Brady had built a target holder out of pipes and duct tape.  We also had a number of clay pigeons to shoot and computer screens.  Jeff and Brady spent a long time calibrating the new optics they had both bought for their guns.  I strapped on a couple of revolvers and proceeded to do my best cowboy impression.  It was a great time of shooting.  Cookie shot a number of guns for the first time.  Jeff’s M1A was incredible with the new optics.  Brady’s AR was really fun with his optics, too.  Once again, the massacre was a great success, and everyone got more practice for when the zombies finally arrive.

On January 17, 2011, professional skateboarder Kelly Hart unveiled his latest trick, the nollie.  History has been made.

Raise your hand if you can do a wheelie with a Bobcat.

On labor day weekend, the Ice Palace had its annual ice maintenance.  During this time, we tear apart the ice and renovate the rink.  On the night of labor day, a few of us decided to have some fun with the Bobcat loader.  We took turns driving it and learning how to do wheelies, along with other maneuvers.  Most of the people working had been drinking, so the driving was interesting, to say the least.  The night started out fun enough, but little did we know that danger lurked just beyond the horizon.

Around 11:30, Carson decided to drive the Bobcat some more to show of for the ladies who had come to take him home from work (because he was not in the right mindset to drive himself).  While showing off the Bobcat’s capabilities, a couple of Mission Viejo deputies came around the corner.  They paused for a moment, and then those terrible flashing lights came on and they sped over to us.  Carson jumped out of the Bobcat, and the deputies stepped out of their cars, furiously hollering at all of us.  They presumed that we were just a bunch of kids, and we had to inform them that we actually worked at the rink and were on the clock working at that moment.  They told us to sit down against the wall.  Jeff kept trying to talk to them, but he was in no mindset to be negotiating with a police officer.  They asked him if he had been drinking, to which he responded, “I….had a beer.”  They then asked who else had been drinking.  Everyone rose their hand, except me and the two girls who had come to pick up Carson.  The deputies then questioned everyone about their age.  Three of the guys who had been drinking were underage.  The deputies then called for the Aliso Viejo deputies to come take over.  After explaining the situation to the Aliso deputies, the Mission Viejo guys left.  The Aliso deputies were much politer.  Jeff stood up and tried to talk to them, and they quickly searched him and sat him in the back of the police car.  They then questioned us individually.  Everyone told them to talk to me, since I was the only sober one and also one of the oldest.  They then questioned me and took down all of our names.  After two hours of this process, at about 1:30, they told us to go back to work, but they held on to Carson and the girls.  Jeff tried to reason with the deputies to let us bring Carson and the girls into the rink, since they were employees, but the deputies told him to leave before they decide not to let him off so easy.  During this time, Jeff had also been questioning one of the deputies about the m1911 he was carrying.  The deputy was shocked that in the midst of this, Jeff wanted to chat about guns.  We went back to work, and the deputies called the girls parents to get them home (because they were underage and out past curfew).  Carson did not get off so easy, though.  Perhaps it’s because he was actually driving the Bobcat, or perhaps they just didn’t like him, but for whatever reason, they called his dad and said they would probably suspend his license and fine him.  Carson’s dad was none too happy.  The rest of us went back to work for a little while longer.

As annoying as some of the people found this experience to be, I enjoyed it thoroughly and found it a wonderful way to end my time working at the Ice Palace.

Last night, I had the incomparable joy of seeing my favorite band perform once again.  Rush made the stop in Irvine for their Time Machine Tour and treated us to an amazing set of music.  I attended the show with my friends Jeff, Cookie, Christine, and my step-dad Rich.  I did not know what to expect other than the news that Rush would be performing their classic album Moving Pictures in its entirety.  What I ended up witnessing was more than I could have hoped for.

Rush has been opening with very fun short videos for years now.  This time, they had a very entertaining video in which the band members acted in very comical parts basically making fun of themselves.  One has to love a band that can still crack jokes about themselves even after achieving such amazing success.  The video led into their opening song, The Spirit of Radio.  The song choice after this was very unusual.  Rush played about five songs that they normally don’t play.  They played some from the Counterparts album, Snakes and Arrows, and even a new song that will probably be on their forthcoming album.  In the mix, they played Freewill and ended with Subdivisions before taking a break.  I knew they were going to come out and play the Moving Pictures album  next, and I found myself being a little disappointed.  I assumed that after Moving Pictures they would be done.  They really didn’t play that many songs in the first part compared to some of their other shows.

Another short video introduced the Moving Pictures segment, and they blasted into Tom Sawyer.  They played the entire album perfectly, with slight variations here and there for the sake of the show.  Geddy Lee nailed the high notes, Neil Peart was on perfect time on the drums, and Alex Lifeson shredded like I’ve never seen before.  It was great to hear them play Red Barchetta, The Camera Eye,  and Vital Signs, which is one of Jeff’s favorites.  During Vital Signs, I noticed a lot of people walking around, so I assumed it was going to be the last song of the show.  However, when the song ended, Geddy stated, “Wow! That was like an entire album.  Was that enough songs for tonight?”  Everyone shouted “NO!”  Then Geddy replied, “I agree with you guys.”  Rush then went into another entire set.  They played songs including another brand new one from their next album, 2112, Neil’s drum solo, and Closer To The Heart.  After this long set, they said goodnight and walked off stage.  About 30 seconds later, they came back on stage and played my favorite, La Villa Strangiato, Working Man, and Far Cry.  Then an exit video played.  This video starred Paul Rudd and Jason Segel from the film I Love You, Man, which featured Rush in it.  It was a hilarious video that included Paul Rudd informing Geddy Lee that he also likes to “Slappa tha bass”.

The show was longer and better than I had imagined possible.  Rush is still so talented, and they play with the precision and skill that their listeners have come to rely on.  Hopefully we will get to see them for at least one more tour before they have to hang up their gear and start growing old.  It is such a blessing to see a band that has been around for such a long time playing incredible music.

This last Sunday evening I experienced a great event of American culture.  The Orange County Fair proudly hosted an RV demolition derby, and my friends Jeff, Cookie, and I attended it.  For those of you who are uneducated in the recreational activities of rednecks, a demolition derby is simply a bunch of people driving automobiles into each other, and the last auto still driving is the winner.  Usually, this competition is performed in old cars.  However, on Sunday night, RVs were the automobile of choice.  There are few things in this world as mesmerizing as a bunch of RVs running into each other.  Wood paneling was flying everywhere, toilets were rolling around, and the crowd ate it up like a pack of starving hyenas.  Leave it to Americans to destroy a bunch of mobile homes during a recession.  Why does destruction draw us in?  Where does this strange and sometimes sick joy come from?  Fortunately, thinking and philosophizing are not allowed at the demolition derby.

This is a photo my friend Jeff Phillips took of me doing a noseslide down a now unskateable hubba ledge.  This was probably taken around my senior year of high school, if not a little earlier.  The photo is a little scratched and dirty, but it is still one of my favorites (and not just because it’s of me).  In high school, Jeff, Tom, and I used to go skating at night a lot.  We would sneak around with our lights and camera equipment, looking for spots to skate and security guards to avoid.  These were some of the funnest days of my life, and probably will remain so even as I grow older and accumulate more experiences.

Shortly after Jeff took this photo, Tom attempted to noseslide this ledge in his underwear.  He rolled his ankle in the process and was lying on the cold asphalt in his underwear holding his foot.  It was one of the funniest injuries I have ever seen.  We could always count on Tom to do something ridiculous in his tighty-whiteys.

Another interesting thing about this photo is the black sweater I am wearing.  I loved that sweater, and shortly after this I remember losing it.  It might even have been this night.  I was so upset.  It was such a comfortable sweater.