Bob the Builder Award: Fellow Olympic Torchbearer "Bicycle Brent"

If you have ever spent any length of time in Logan, Utah, you have probably seen this guy, Brent the Waver, as we called him when we lived there. He rides his bike everywhere, honking his horn with a smile and a wave for EVERYONE. And I mean everyone. :)

One time, my friend, Sheri had Brent over for a visit. When he saw her tub of Red Vines, he ate almost all of them. You don't eat Sheri's Red Vines! Whenever I see those tubs in the WalMart, I always think of that. :) Watch out, Sheri. Now that Brent is retired, he will have time to ride his bike to your town and have himself a snack! Redvines, anyone?

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Bicycle Brent retires from The Junction (Utah State Cafeteria). Says goodbye to USU after 30 years of waving.

Brent Carpenter is presented with a new bike at his retirement party Friday.

A farewell party was hosted Friday for Brent Carpenter who is retiring after serving Utah State University in The Junction for just more than 30 years. Brent, commonly known as Bicycle Brent around campus, said he would miss working with the students on campus. “He worked for The Junction for 30 years. I think that’s great, and he always tries to be helpful,”

Brent’s parents, Charles and Bessy, attended the farewell party Friday and spoke of being proud of their son. “We’re proud of all the things he has become,” Bessy said.

Bessy said one of her favorite memories of Brent while at Utah State was when he ran the Olympic torch through the Spectrum a few years ago to the cheers of Utah State students, peers and community members.

“There were over 10,000 people stamping their feet and chanting his name, ‘Brent, Brent, Brent.’ It was really a great experience for him,” Bessy said. Charles said, “People were cheering and had bicycle horns. It was great.”

Brent is known for riding his bicycle around campus and for participating in as many things as possible, Wiltshire said. “

“Everybody’s been so patient and kind to him. They’ve done it all for him,” Bessy said. Wiltshire said she won’t miss Brent because she expects to see him three to five times a week. Bessy said, “He thinks the school belongs to him.” Carpenter shouted in agreement with his mom. “Go Aggies!” he said.

"'Tallica! 'Tallica!"

Son, this one's for you.

Saturday April 4th is a big deal day to some members our family. If it makes the "brain" by the phone (translation: family calendar) it is a big deal. It is not just for the ACT test for the Girl. Not just a big board meeting for me three hours --one way-- away. Not just for General Conference. Not even for the Final Four Basketball. Not even for Mr. Fun's sister's birthday.

It is a big deal day for James and the boys. James, you say? James who?

I don't know many James so it is pretty easy for me to keep track. When my brother says his name, everyone in my family (except maybe dad Mr. P) knows who he is talking about.

That would be James Hetfield and his boys in the band: Metallica.

As I write this I am at one heck of a rager spontaneously held in honor of James and the boys' honor: Induction in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. We are eating pizza, playing Metallica Guitar Hero and watching some Metallifacts Pop Up Video. One thing I learned is that after Metallica lost the Grammy in 1989 they started applying "1989 Grammy Losers" stickers on all of their albums. A couple weeks ago they dressed up and acted like they were a start up band in Norway trying to break into the music business. Just in case you were curious, their first hit song was "One." This Tom A. sure knows how to throw a party!

My children-- the sweet, church going, self-proclaimed Jesus Freaks LOVE Metallica. It is is all Brother Brian's fault. It started when the Girl was a few months old and BB thought it was high time for her to be introduced to their music. I was afraid she would lose her hearing.

By the time she was three or four, she had her own burned cassette tapes of James and the boys. She had a good enough ear that when she would hear their music, she would happily exclaim "'Tallica! 'Tallica!" The Boy has not been too far behind in his Metallica fanness. He even owns some Metallica wrapping paper.

Here's a big fat toast (Mormon style) of caffeine-free Mountain Dew to you and the boys, James. Enjoy your day!

So Long, Farewell, Auf Wiedersehen, Goodbye

Goodbye to "ER."

If you are an "ER" fan, you know what I mean and are feeling it.

As my brother just so aptly put it, "It is the end of an 'ER'A."

Daughter, Country, Star Wars

Meet our nameless friend.

We first saw him four years ago at the

Star Wars Convention in Indiana. He entered the Tattoo

Competition in which I first learned the words "full sleeve"

"half sleeve" and saw someone had tattooed the name of

the executive producer guy of Star Wars on his ankle.

This is the guy we never forgot. Tom sent this to me a couple

weeks ago with a note: "Look who I found (on the internet)."

It was like a little reunion.

Bob the Builder Award: The Trashy Good Samaritan on North Antioch Road

The children in this house really thank you, nameless Good Samaritan.

I can't figure out why there is so much little trash on the ground in Missouri. There are trash cans in the city. I have seen them. Resturants have them. City sites have them. Homes have them. But for some reason, there seems to be a few too many residents who have trouble with the idea that they should hold on to their empty Quiktrip (the mid-west answer to 7-11) fountain drink cup until they get home to throw it away. It makes me crazy.

Of course, I have a trashy history. Not only am I the trash queen at the leadership academy and picked up trash all over China, but I have picked up trash in SLC (at the 1996 Olympic Torch Relay) and mainly, Alaska. I learned my trashy ways from my father, Mr. P.

Mr. P used to make my brother and I every year go out to the stretch of road that we lived by and picked up the trash along it. And the trash in our yard, which he ran his roofing business from. And it was a lot of trash, and a lot of yard. And I hated EVERY minute of it.

And even more than cleaning up my neck of the woods, the elemementary and middle school I attended would bus the ENTIRE student body out to different parts of roads and town and give us big yellow bags with a walrus on them that said something really witty like "Keep Alaska Clean." We would have to pick up trash all over the place and one year we weren't allowed back on the bus until the entire bag was full. They didn't care about if you were disabled, wearing your Sunday best, or weren't dressed appropriately for the weather. They let small children wander by busy roads without adult supervision. The one kickback is that when we got back to school (filthy by the way---have you ever seen spring in Alaska? We dont' call it spring. We call it "break-up"--as in the ice and snow are beginning to break up. It is the wettest, muddiest place on the planet for weeks) we would get an ice cream sandwich...which was a better deal than what I got at home on our trash pick up day.

Unfortunately for the children residing in this home now, there are no ice cream sandwiches but still big yellow bags without a walrus and a parent who believes in picking up trash.

For weeks now, I have been driving the girl to work at Dave's Hot Rod Shop and we have been seeing these same big messes of trash on this road. I can't stand to see them. I think everyday when I see it that when the weather gets straight, I have a Boy Scout son and "Greenie" daughter that will have their work cut out for them when we go to pick it all up. They know it is coming and they are hating every minute of it.

But to our surprise, early last week, someone beat us to the punch. The trashy good samaritan took care of it. The trash is gone, gone, gone.

Thank you to the trash picker upper who will never see this post. If I knew your name, I would take you for an ice cream sandwich. :)