Evaluative Conclusion

                In evaluating this first blogging experience of mine, I have realized that even though it was just part of an assignment, it has been something that has been somewhat enjoyable and even somewhat therapeutic.  It has helped me to write about topics that only cross my mind for brief moments of time.  The things I wrote were mainly those things that were on my mind at the time, or descriptions of what I was doing, or certain memories that came to mind.  There have been times when I have kept a journal, but it becomes hard to find the time to break out that pen and get your hand moving.  Through the development of this blog, I have thought about creating a digital journal.  Not only do I think it would be fun to read in the future, but also beneficial, in that it helps one get their thoughts organized so they can focus on what’s important.  I think I’d be able to better learn from my mistakes as well.  Basically, writing in this blog has inspired me to action; action in many aspects of life, such as in writing, reading, learning, and even cleaning….why, I don’t know.  That’s just the way it turned out.  For that I’d like to give a shout out to Professor Steadman.  Woooot!  But anyhow, although it took some time to figure out, I have enjoyed being a fellow blogger.  It has changed me, and that’s just the sappy emotional truth you’ve all been dying to hear, isn’t it.   ...oh dear.  Somebody throw on some Steppenwolf.

Valuable Lessons through Dangerous Adventures in a Foreign Land

It was going to be a trip to remember; warm ocean water on soft sandy beaches, vibrant crashing waterfalls in deep green forests, and long bike rides on the boardwalk through the hot summer air.  My sister Taylor and her husband Bryan had been sent to Puerto Rico because my brother in law Bryan worked for a company which ended up sending him there with his language abilities.  I figured that while they were stationed there for this short time, and before I left for two years of service, I would brush up on some Spanish and go see this colorful land I had heard them rave about since they had been there.  Besides, I had never before left the west coast, so this was the perfect opportunity to stretch my legs and go cross country.  Little did I know that certain events would come up during this five day journey to scare me out of my ranch boy boots.  From the dangers of nature, to terror inside of jagged cliff caves, it opened up to me a new book of consideration when deciding who to trust, and knowing what’s most important in life.

Trevor, my little brother, and Andrea, my cousin from Germany, tagged along to visit Taylor and Bryan as well.  Taylor was able to get time off of work to show us the sites.  We visited “Old San Juan” which contained elaborate plazas, with streets made of grey and weathered hand-cut stone that had been sitting in the dirt for over a century.  The historic Fort El Morro with its majestic walls and cold deep dark hallways took us back into the history of its battles.  It seemed to convey to us that it would hold its stance and not move a muscle no matter the danger of battle.  One day we pushed across the choppy blue ocean in an old local man’s little wooden boat, almost as old as Fort El Morro.  We arrived to an unpopulated island where we had unlimited handfuls of pure white sand to help construct elaborate sand castles with deep moats, wide barricades and sky high walls as to help protect the castles inhabitants from the crashing force of the persistent tide, as if it were an immense wave of deadly yet foamy destruction sent from some evil sea queen.  We soon dove into the waters with our snorkels and collected shells while observing sporadic bright yellow and green flashes that emulated from the scales of scattering fish.  We had grown confident in our ocean swimming and explored more of this unknown world.  It felt as if we were on a far off alien planet being watched by quick disappearing creatures as we floated on by.  As the week winded down we also crept through a cold and damp tropical rain forest and pedaled some bikes along the scorching hot beach trails.  It continued to develop into the greatest trip I had taken.

The day before we left, Bryan was able to join us for our last activities.  We drove south towards some nice beaches to enjoy our day.  Upon finding a beach with some wicked nice waves, we decided to stop and do some body surfing.  The rush of swimming deathly fast in front of a giant wall of water as it then lifts you up and carries you to shore is an exhilarating experience.  It becomes a battle against the elements, as the tide pulls you back and the wave tries to push you under.  After some time in the waves, our confidence began to grow again.  Taylor and Andrea jumped at the chance of taking on the larger waves further out in the water.  I calmed my somewhat worried mind by reminding myself that both Taylor and Andrea were avid swimmers.  Andrea had even been on various swim teams in Germany. 

As time drew on, the waves got bigger and the girls began to unknowingly fall back even further into the dark and consuming ocean.  I sensed danger on the rise.  I had never seen so many sets of waves crashing in different places out beyond the shore.  I ran my heart out to get to the water, and free styled it to a place where they could see me better.  I let out a strong holler towards them, as loud as my lungs could force out, to call them in.  With my arms flailing, I tried signaling to them to come in.  This strong current continued to pull them out into the layers of crashing waves, like an invisible monster slowly luring them in.  They soon sensed the fear in my countenance, and began to swim in.  To avoid more crashing waves they dove under the surface, which in fact only pulled them further back because of the powerful undertow.  With so many layers of waves, I couldn’t seem to keep track of them.  I swam out to try and help, but as soon as their heads came up, they would dive down again to avoid the coming wave.  I had lost my sister Taylor.  She had disappeared.  My eyes frantically scanned whatever surface I could find of the choppy ocean water.  I didn’t see her anymore.  I continued to shout her name in terror, fearing I had lost my sister, when alas she came up again.  By this time, Bryan had swum over to help.  The scare continued, but eventually we made it out to them to keep their tired bodies on the surface.  The ocean had swept us across the beach, and put us in front of many sharp rocks and reefs.  Though the waves slammed us into sharp objects we were happy to have hit land.  With cuts and scrapes, the four of us made it out of the dangerous ocean.  The second we hit the sand we all collapsed.  The wet spongy sand was absolute heaven, as we looked at each other on our backs and bellies in complete disbelief. 

After some time of recovery, we wanted to leave the beach for obvious reasons.  We went to an area down the road where there were some caves near the ocean.  Upon arriving, we walked down an overgrown path to the entrance of some caves.  Two young locals were speaking with Bryan in broken Spanish, and they offered to help us through the caves.  After fifteen minutes of exploring, we had to scale this wall to get out of the caves.  The two local helpers were in front, and I brought up the rear.  Just as everybody was almost up, they called to me to throw my back pack up to ease my ascent.  All of the sudden, these two young men pulled out two pistols.  They were shouting in broken Spanish holding a gun up to my sister’s head, and pointing the other at my cousin Andrea.  My world froze. What was five seconds seemed like five minutes.  A lot of conversation was exchanged, but eventually, they ran off with our belongings.  Once again, we sat in disbelief, amazed that we escaped with our lives.  In the end we tracked them down with some help of the local police and other local residents

At this time, I had gained a new appreciation and respect for the powerful force of the ocean, especially in unfamiliar waters I had never swam in before.  After the incident in the caves I learned more about how we need to be careful as to whom we can trust.  This will always be a difficult subject for me, as I like to put my trust in many people.  At the end of that day, I gave my sister the biggest hug I had ever given to anybody in my entire life.  I just wanted to be with my family from that point on.  After these experiences, and also after being away from them for two years, I learned how much they mean to me.

Digital Slavery

                       In our world we are constantly being bombarded with the idea of “out with the old, and in with the new!”  We are almost being forced to purchase, upgrade, update or download the newest technology to stay ahead of the times.  Our world is becoming more digitally organized and connected with a cyber space netting that seems to completely encompass our very lives.  Will this phase ever end?  Such ideas are doubtful, but who’s to say that it can’t slowdown.  We are becoming so reliant on electronics that it is making us take for granted the basic and simple nature of things.   
                      With more and more texting plans on the rise in the cellular phone industries, we as a culture are losing our ability to interact with each other in actual physical conversation, or in the almost archaic style of hand written communication.  They say that according to our earth’s history, the polarity of earth’s poles is long overdue for a reversal.  This would completely wipe out our world of electronics, and we would have to rebuild all digital infrastructures, including wireless phones, televisions, computers etc.  There would be a short time in which we wouldn’t be able to use electronic devices, but even this, as we all know it, would create a type of “all-out” pandemonium, and I mean literally, all-out. (“All” being our electronics …and yes, even Facebook).  It is certain that we would be able to get 100% back on track in due time, I would say probably in less time than a year, but would this temporary yet drastic cut-off from our electronics change certain aspects or habits in our culture?  Or would we simply continue life just like before, as if nothing had even happened?

Hook

                     There is one thing that comes to mind whenever I hear the word Hook.  It’s not the story of Peter Pan, and doesn’t have anything to do with fishing.  The hook I speak of is actually the title of a song, along with the meaning of what a hook can be in almost any given song.  One of my favorite bands is Blues Traveler in which John Popper is the lead singer, as well as one of the best harmonica players in the history of the harmonica.  His song, “Hook”, just seems like any other song on the radio, but it’s not until you listen to and read about the song’s lyrics that you will find the deep but simple truth about why a song can seem so great to us.  
                       In this song, he first explains that it doesn’t matter what he says in the song, as long as he sings with inflection, or emotion.  He secretly sings an explanation of why we like the song, which is because of the chorus acting like a hook, which brings us back to something familiar that we enjoy, and that seems to stick with us.  He begins singing about simple nothings, and even confesses to doing so in his lyrics, but the listener doesn’t even catch on to what he is saying, as they are so wrapped up in the tune.  He goes on referring to Peter Pan, to try and bring something irrelevant into the song, possibly to throw us off.  What comes next are lyrics said so fast, that you can barely make sense of any of it.  In this, what some call a “rap”, John Popper explains how crazy the music industry is.  His lyrics actually become a satire of the music industry, and how there are many “cookie-cutter” songs that are produced every year, as one person puts it.  This song is specifically about the song itself, and how often people don’t listen to the lyrics of songs.  One line says, “It’s so MTV it’s killing me”.   I think he may be alluding to the fact that in MTV, it’s all about appearance, and the way they criticized him about needing to appear less fat is just completely bogus.  He spits out so many meaningful  lyrics, that it just passes us all by, but he basically says that nothing even matters to us as long as that chorus, or “hook”, comes back, which it does right after his long spiel of words.  
                        I love this song, because it is in and of itself an example of the types of songs out there that grab our attention.  John Popper is a musical genius that helps us see that lyrics almost don’t even matter in the success of a song.  But what is it that made this song so great?  You will just have to listen to it yourself, but first without paying attention to the lyrics.