We Got Ourselves a City Slicker

Quick shoutout to Chels. Congrats on the engagement. Please don't make me wear burnt orange at your wedding.

I decided I quite like vacations. This one has been my favorite so far. Everyone was actually at home for Christmas (except Kevin...) and found on the schedule were both delicious meals and the regular Hutchins shenanigans. Decluttering occurred, basketball games attended, much family and all the ridiculosity y compris. Voila:

Tuesday was my last real day at home, so I brought the childies up to Krempy's, where we enjoyed some hilarious poetry on the subjects of vomiting, dieting, and aging (see where I get it??). We also ate some great food, thanks to Mimi. And we even got back in time for Trevor's basketball game, which was killer. (The boy had 30 points!)

The Krempy, The Mimi, The Moriah. 

Wednesday I was on planes all day. After a short jaunt down to Baltimore, I had a four hour ride to SLC sitting next to a large man with excruciatingly severe body odor. (Actually those are the lyrics in Albuquerque describing the plane ride from hell. Mine only including an extremely large man and intense discomfort for the duration).

The Grandparents and I

Upon arrival, I got to catch up with the delightful Rachel May, who also helped accomplish my grocery shopping and dinner for the evening. MVP. The girl is a saint.

With nothing on the table, and no interest in studying for a test I now can't take for several months, I did a lot of relaxing. Also working out, which is why my muscles are wonderfully sore today. Also I read at least six books. Over the remainder of the week, I watched Avatar, Legend of the Seeker, the Hobbit, and Stick It, all while working on my comic book, which is coming along, however slowly. I have increasing respect for comic bookers everywhere.

I did perform at the Provo Mansion House's poetry/song night. Bryson and Tate are such flatterers, how could I refuse? After an introductory rap, I did a few pieces as noted below. I think they're rather silly, but as long as they're appreciated I'll keep performing.

Ballads and Rhymes.

Funcle Aaron was in town for the weekend, so we crashed the BYU v Pacific game, which was less entertaining because it was such a blowout. We snagged some good seats though, and caught some quality dancing.

IG pic creds: @a911h

Afterwards, the magnificent Emarie Covey and I tagged along with the in-laws to see Moana. It was pretty decent. And we only spilled half our popcorn on the ground. Emarie, as per usual, exceeded all expectations.

End. Here are the poems:

Ode to the Malt Shoppe

If you’re looking around cause you’re hungAry

Our friends all say it’s the place to be

We’ve got all the flavors from A to Z

Come down and dine at the Malt ShoppE!

The health inspections didn’t go as planned

So Susie’s cleaning wishes were our command

Just taking a look at all the rat poop we’ve found

It might just be better if it burned to the ground.

We’ve got quite a few holes in our parking lot

I don’t know if we’ll ever fix them or not

And we better not let the ice cream run low

Cause all of America will be the first ones to go.

The Malt Shoppe does have one good thing

And that’s the music the Jukebox brings

The awkward dancers are in plain sight

When you visit the Malt Shoppe each Saturday night.

Although most of our food is dripping with grease

It’s not a crime, so don’t call the police!

Why you even stop by is a mystery

To all those who work at the Malt ShoppE

There’s a Moment

New kicks slick on the court, the crowd roars

Dimples spin off fingertips, the ball soars

Sprinting upcourt, it’s less about the score

Though the crowd yells and cheers and asks for more-

There’s a moment.

A moment when you’re combing your options and the clock keeps on going, but everything seems to go in slow motion-

There’s a moment.

A moment when you know what you’ve chosen and low-key you’re Kobe and know how to be posting…up.

And it’s enough.

Scan the man-to-man as the ball’s reversed

Wingspan fans as if the plan’s rehearsed

Demand the rock, pure power bursts

Drop step, pump fake, less a need than a thirst

There’s a moment.

A moment when the court is frozen and there’s no room for hoping you’re the better opponent.

There’s a moment.

A moment when your will is focused and the moves start flowing and it’s not mechanics, it’s poet-try.

And it’s liberating.

Pouring blood, sweat, and tears into the fight

Because might, not right, wins title tonight

Fire ignites, shot’s on aim and that’s hella tight

It’s not the score, but the game, cuz ball is life.