Can You Pass the US Citizenship Test?

Here is a short quiz in the spirit of "Man on the street" to determine if you deserve to be a US Citizen. If you can't pass the test and are planning on remaining in the U.S. please do one of the following:

1. Go back to high school
   
2. Go back to your country of origin
   

:-) Love ya!

JeepCruzer Passed the US Citizenship Test

Congratulations - you got 8 out of 10 correct!

Could You Pass the US Citizenship Test?

A cloud of dust and a hearty "Hi-Yo Silver!"

I am the proud owner of a new dog! My wife looked deep into my battered soul and decided the time was right to get a dog. I think we found a near perfect one too. He's a Black Labrador cross breed. Cross bread with what we're not sure, he's got so much lab that it's hard to tell. We call him Ranger, it looks like it'll take him a while to get used to that, but he seems to like having someone call him something one way or the other. Emma has really taken to him and he's even melted Hannah's heart, he's so cuddly he's hard to resist. We're all pretty happy around here, we've got a bunch of doggy stuff and we're looking forward to having ton's of fun with Ranger around!

My wife's battle cry

What Is Your Battle Cry?

Who is that, rampaging through the tarmac! It is Hannah, hands clutching a burning branch! She cries ominously: "I'm going to bake your brains with the heat of my fury!"

Find out! Enter username: Are you a girl, or a guy ?

created by beatings : powered by monkeys

A DeeJay's work is never done

Here is me, trying to repair a headphone jack before the start of a dance a couple weeks back. I haven't even changed into my nice dud's yet - that's how frantic I was. It seems that no matter how much time you leave yourself to setup, there's never enough. The dance was great anyway, Hannah really shined on the board and our new wireless mic's were awesome. I even got a chance to change my clothes!

Garbage can speaks truth

Remember that "Huge" spider that was speaking to me fron the garbage can last week? Well, turns out, he wasn't alone. We've caught and killed two more like him, and they're not at all small. In fact this one was four inches from tip to tip of it's most outstreached legs. Man I hate spiders!

Bad Moon Rising

I was fascinated by the late evening sky in front of my house as the clouds rolled in with an overnight thunderstom in tow. You can't see it well in this photo from my camera phone, but there were these tremendous rays of light blasting through the thin clouds as the sun set over Antelope Island.

My garbage is speaking to me

So what do you expect to see when you look in your waste pail? I know I wasn't expecting to see this when I tossed Q-tip in my bathroom garbage. My wife had warned me before she left for work that she'd captured a spider but in my sleepy stupor I didn't catch on that this was what she meant. I think I'm going to make leaving notes in the garbage can a habit from here on. I'll leave paper plates with "I love you" written thereon, or perhaps napkins with "Don't forget the dry cleaning."

The flowers outside my window

Outside my front room windown is a bush, or perhpas it's a small tree that I look forward to seeing every year in late summer. It bears a beautiful hibiscuis flower that blooms for a little more than a month in warmth of August. It is such a simple pleasure to see these white flowers staring back at me when I open the blinds or watch the traffic out my window. They remind me of my trip to Hawaii with Hannah and the tropical atmosphere there. August has brought a special flower this year too. Hannah's Stargazer Lillys have bloomed and they too are beautiful. There are a bunch just outside that same front window as well as other locals around the house. Hannah seems to be especially proud, as she should be.

Reuniting with something I never missed

The "Mighty, Mighty, Vikings" didn't seem so mighty at the 10 year reunion I attended last week. In fact, I was downright dissapointed. I don't like reunions, but I had psyched myself into going so I could bring a little joy to my old buddy Jerrod and his boys in Iraq by videotaping my escapade. Upon arrival at the reunion, it became apparant immediately that videotaping the carnage before me was worthless use of time. There were probably twenty people there (men, women and children) thus I gathered that only five or six people there were actual graduates of the class of '95. On top of that I recognized NO ONE. I worried I may have stumbled into the wrong party, but the signs were clear, this was the place. I couldn't belive there wasn't someone handing out name badges or welcoming people as they arrived, and this made me wonder where the class presidency was as most of them are old friends and I was excited to see them. Since I couldn't identify any of them around the park pavilion I decided to pack it up, grab me a soda from one of the three coolers, and go to the NEXT reunion on my calendar that day.

Just as I was turning to find my wife and child - Ben, our class president, appeard. So I got to talk to him for a few minutes. He helped clear up some of my confusion. He said he was the only member of the presidency at the party, that the dinner the night before had been quite successful and he even said a few words to Jerrod and Andy via the video camera.

As I talked to Ben I recognized two other people from the high school, one whom I was not happy to see and avoided (plus he lives in our stake and could see him whenever) the other was Jackie and her husband Johnny whom I've seen several times just in the last few years. Jackie obliged my request to say hi to Jerrod and I talked to Johnny for a while about life in Portland and Washington. During those conversations I had three people approach me, call me by name, and strike up conversations like we were ol' buds. I only recognized one of three but couldn't tell you any of thier names despite the fact they remembered mine without difficulty (wish somone'd made name tags.)

After those startling conversatoins I decided my time at the reunion (all thirty minutes) was more than I could squeeze into the day and hastened off to find my wife and baby who had been brimming with joy over the multitude of ducks at the nearby pond. I left feeling like I had been to bad ward picnic. I felt guilty for not remembering the people who so readily remembered me and came to the ultimate conclusion that reunions are definately a bad thing.