The Smile Hour!

Countdown to my audition: T minus 6 days

2011-01-23T23:42:00.003-07:00

Dear world,

I am excited to return to you after Saturday, Jan. 29, 2011 at 10:30am MST. Please send good vibes my way.

Sincerely,
Derrick

Dear Self,

Please believe that you can survive until Saturday at 10:20am MST. And remember that you really love music.

Thank you,
Derrick

PS. Here's what I'm preparing:
- A prelude by Kapustin (No. 17)
- A prelude/fugue by Bach (C Minor)
- A sonata by Beethoven (Tempest)

Memoir of a Christmastime Shopping Mall Pianist

2009-12-07T22:43:00.001-07:00

A year ago I called the mall to see if they needed a pianist to perform during the holiday season. I love phone calls like this, because they make me feel like an artist. I call myself a piano player, which is accurate because I "do" play the piano (and by "do" I just mean do), but when I say it out loud--when I introduce myself as "a piano player," it feels like I am telling them, "I don't have any other job except music. The piano is my life." And I love the way that sounds.

Anyway, I do it for tips. I sit there for a few hours and I put a little cup on the piano, and when people pass by, I try to ham it up so people will want to give me stuff. Usually when this happens I get very happy,

2009-11-17T22:53:00.001-07:00

Hyperbole is like a drug. You use it in order to reach new heights of intensity but then you have to keep using it or it won't mean as much.

Facebook profile pics are like dating relationships

2009-11-06T11:01:00.004-07:00

Some people are really committed to theirs and keep them for months. Some people have tons of them--a new one almost every other day. Some people have a mix of real ones they really care about and purely funny ones meant to be ironic. Some people rotate through old ones over time; others delete as soon as they're done with them. Some pics get very personal, with lots of apparent details of private life. Some are doctored, causing them to look better than they do in reality. Some are outdated. Some attract a lot of attention and comments; others no one seems to notice. Some are tagged, linking directly to real individuals, and sometimes those individuals untag themselves, erasing all evidence it even existed. Some are old. Some are fresh and new. Some are beautiful. Some aren't. Some are honest portrayals of a person's personality and appearance. Some are offensive. Some represent bad choices. Others represent fond memories.

Scaring your roommate: There's an app for that!

2009-11-05T14:23:00.004-07:00

This morning I pranked my roommate while he was in the shower. Now, you have to understand, I have never been one to prank. In fact, this morning was the first time I ever did, that I can remember. I have, over the years, been the recipient of some pranks (for example, in the MTC one night, I woke up in the hallway, still on my mattress). But I have never been the mastermind of one, especially ones involving showers.

Until now.

The idea came to me a few days ago, and the brilliance fell upon me so fast that I just needed to tell my good friend and roommate, Cary, all about it. However, something stopped me. This prank, I realized, I can only pull on him. If I tell him about it now, I will never be able to experience it, on anybody, ever. It was like swallowing an entire banana not to tell him right then, but for the sake of the prank, I choked it down.

First let me just say, I love Cary. He is like my brother. Just the other day, he and I went to International Cinema to see Psycho. It was my first time seeing it, and it is Cary's favorite movie. He has it memorized. Now that I think about it, that is kind of creepy, considering he is my roommate. Anyway, I loved it, and I especially loved the musical score. I went home and downloaded the soundtrack--which leads us to this morning's prank.

I woke up several times, giddy, like it was Christmas, only to discover that it was still a few hours before the time to get up. I tried several times to go back to sleep, and when it finally got to about 15 minutes before the time he would likely wake up, I crept into the bathroom and placed my fully charged laptop on the rack of magazines and toiletries, power on but with a closed lid, the volume fully up. I snuck back in bed and pretended to be asleep for a little while longer. My heart was pounding.

Before long, he woke up and went into the bathroom. I heard him rustle around in there four a couple minutes until finally--squeak--the shower curtain was audibly moving back and forth, and the sound of steaming hot water muffled all other sounds. I jumped out of bed--it was actually happening--and I excitedly turned on my iPod to the Remote app. (For those unfamiliar with this app, Remote allows the user to control, wirelessly, the iTunes on the laptop that it is paired with.)

I waited until he had had enough time to be fully invested in the comfort of his shower, at which point I scrolled, from the comfort of my bedroom, through the songs remotely on my iPod. I opened up track 17 of the Psycho soundtrack, "The Murder," and listened outside the door.

SCREECH SCREECH SCREECH SCREECH went the violins of the music from my laptop speakers, and I heard Cary yell. It was not at all a feminine scream, like I had been hoping, but a deep, aggressive "AH!" I started laughing hysterically and he yelled at me. He had made the mistake of not locking the bathroom door (though it was not at all in my plan to actually come in the bathroom), and he immediately reacted to the music by leaping out of the shower to hold the door shut, making the floor sopping wet. This, he explained, was to prevent me from charging in with a knife.

I could end this story here but I want to comment briefly about the intense psychological concern I had before it happened. I had never pranked anybody before, so I had all these questions about the morality of the subject. I didn't want to hurt Cary, and I feared that he would slip in the shower. But the thought that really bothered me was when I remembered that there was a razor in the shower. I wondered if he shaved in the shower. So before he went in, I asked him, "Cary, do you shave with an electric razor?" He answered yes, and that put me at ease.

Last night I really came close to blowing the whole thing. I was so excited that I just looked at him and said, "Cary, I am planning on pranking you." He looked at me, annoyed, planning retaliation already in his mind. I assured him that the prank I was planning would in no way hurt him or embarrass him; it would just be awesome. And awesome it was.

2009-10-28T16:37:00.001-06:00

When I was a child, a $20 bill could have solved any of my financial troubles.

Take, for example, ages 9 to 13, in which I was obsessed with Star Wars. I wanted to have my own lightsaber so badly, and they sold them at Target for $19.99.

Cuteness ends with accountability

2009-10-28T00:52:00.001-06:00

We take pictures of babies when they are eating, and we think this is incredibly cute. But these same babies, when they are 15 years older, we think it is considerably less cute.

Other things that kids do are only cute when they are little.

Facebook to harvest a zombie army of dead people's profiles

2009-10-27T11:31:00.000-06:00

"Mommy, when Grandma died, where did her facebook profile go?"

It's a question that has long caused debate among the religious and scientific alike. And this week, just in time for the holiday that celebrates the undead, Facebook has announced that it will keep active the profile pages of the deceased, for the benefit of their loved ones.

Or, according to a more sinister and unannounced motive for the new policy, the website creators are preparing to release an army of undead profiles to feed on the status updates and photos of the living.

On the positive, however, this comes as a big sigh of relief to all those users of Facebook who sit in the dark all day collecting friends and feasting on looking at the flesh of hundreds of unknown people. It feels less stalkerish if you know the person isn't around anymore.

Read about it here.

Clothing the naked... in Spider-man attire?

2009-10-26T10:51:00.006-06:00

This Halloween season, 'tis the season for helping the needy. And nobody understands this better than the folks at the University of Pacific in my hometown of Stockton, Calif. They have started a bold new campaign to help those little ones who are in need--no, not with food or shelter, but something that the kids will love even more.

New or gently-used Halloween costumes.

Yes, this year, there will be no messy soup to deal with, no uncomfortable beds to try to sleep on. More fortunate Stocktonians and UOP students will be reaching into their bag of generous trick-or-treats to donate costumes to the homeless. Think of how wonderful this must be for those poor little children who go to bed hungry every night, dreaming about someday dressing up like a Jedi or a princess. And instead of receiving boring jackets or pillows, think of how many little girls will be able to curl up in a brand new Cat Woman outfit. It warms my heart like a candle in a jack-o-lantern.

Read about it here.

A Noob Amongst Leet-Speakers

2009-05-14T11:40:00.000-06:00

I live among amazingly talented warriors. My roommates and some of our friends who come over are the fiercest video gamers fighting for the side of the humans. They protect noobs like me from ever-present threat of aliens which may attack me in a post-apocalyptic near future. Sometimes these aliens even walk briefly through walls. But my warrior protectors tell me that whenever this happens, it is a glitch in the system and I shouldn't worry too much about it.

Video games have become so different than when I remember wishing I had them. Back then they were simple, the controls had only a few buttons, and I generally understood how to play the games. Now the games seem to me to more like actual movies, with plots and matching music, voice-over actors—and somehow my roommates control these stories by moving their fingers furiously across buttons that, as far as I can tell, are in no way connected to the TV.

The closest thing I could relate it to is the "Choose Your Own Adventure" series of children's' books that I read back when I was wishing I had video games. Anyway, let me tell you about a conversation I recently had with my amazingly fierce and skilled roommate that illustrates the complexities of today's video games. I came in the other day and he was playing a very popular one from a controller that was, again, not at all connected to the TV.

By law I am not authorized to mention the name of this particular video game on this blog. I can say that the game shares a title with a hit Beyoncé song, and it is not "Single Ladies" (obviously).It's not copyright law that I'm worried about, but the secret law of the Video Gamers.

You must believe me when I tell you that you don't want to break this law, which is strictly enforced by an army of androids who terrorize your life for making even the most innocent infringements. Even the rule that forbids you to date actual women (unless it is online dating) is punishable by death (which isn't that bad as long as you have saved up enough extra lives. In the world of Video Gamers, death is really something of an exaggeration).

Back to the story about my roommate. I just stared blankly at the screen for a few minutes as the character that he seemed to be controlling frantically ran around shooting at aliens, picking up new guns, switching the guns, loading the guns, shooting at more aliens, turning around, jumping up walls, blowing apart more aliens, picking up more guns, etc. The camera seemed to be more active than a Bourne Identity film, so it was impossible for me to understand what was going on by just looking at the screen.

I asked him if the battle was between humans and aliens. He told me yes, but then added that some of the aliens are good.

It turns out asking a question wasn't going to make it any easier to understand either.

So I went back upstairs, reminding myself of the fact that I am a hopeless noob. By the way, for all you other noobs like me out there, "noob" is a term that video gamers have made up to refer to non-video gamers. It's kind of like "muggle" in a way, if that helps. It's not necessarily a bad thing, except for the fact that if you are a noob, no one will ever pick you to be on their team of alien-fighting warriors, which ironically is a lot like what happens to some video gamers in elementary school P.E. classes. But I think I am a special kind of noob because I wasn't usually picked to be one anyone's team in elementary school P.E. either.

But now, all that noobiness is about to change. I am about to own and pwn all those leet-speaking multiplayers out there, because I, Derrick Clements, have won myself a wii.

It happened last Friday night. I was, rather uncharacteristically, at a sporting event. A baseball game. My friend was explaining to me how the game is played when a bubbly girl wearing school colors came directly at me and asked if I wanted to participate in an event.

Now, I may not know sports, and I may not know video games, but when it comes to meaningless displays of wild enthusiasm in front of a crowd of people looking at me, I am the man for the job! I wasn't sure if I was going to win something or have myself covered in boston cream pie, but if people were going to watching me, I was all over that.

So I followed her down there to the front and Cosmo our school mascot started hugging me and clapping me on the back and getting the crowd excited. All of a sudden there were three boxes in front of me, and I had to choose whichever one I wanted. Whatever was underneath the box, I could have. The audience screamed that I should pick box number 3. So after hemming and hawing to the point that I thought the crowd would enjoy, I picked box number 3. All of a sudden everyone is, like, screaming and the girl says over the microphone, "Derrick you just won a wii! Congratulations!" And all I can think of are the voices of my parents and 21 years of society telling me that if I want things in life I have to work hard for them. It's what America is all about, they say.

Granted, it was a little hard for me to understand what was going on in the baseball game, but I don't think that's the kind of hard work they were talking about.

Regardless though, I have a wii now. It's still, of course, unopened in my room. I don't have the slightest clue what to do with it. And I fully admit that of all the crazy baseball fans out there, and of all the leet-speaking multiplayers who were at home shooting aliens when I was at a sporting event winning a wii, I was probably the least deserving person in a 50-mile radius to win a wii at a baseball game. But you know what? Who cares? I won it. It's mine now.

And that, as it turns out, is exactly what America is all about.

Watching Silently from its Emoticons…waiting

2009-05-13T08:51:00.000-06:00

The more my new phone gets to know me, the more it thinks it knows what I am going to say when I write a text message. It's a feature called predictive text, and I am convinced that this technology is the grandfather of HAL 9000, the computer on "2001: A Space Odyssey." I am waiting for my phone to tell me at any minute in a calm voice of confidence, "thank you Derrick, your services are no longer needed."

So far though, the predictive text feature of my phone has actually helped me to improve the quality of my text messages, not just in spelling, but in good word usage. For example, during one recent text I was cleverly inserting the word "kiss" into my texts (my reasons are my own), and when I clicked 5477, my phone thought that I was typing "lips." I looked at it and thought, "yeah, that is better! Thanks Predictive Text!"

But like all technology, there are still a few kinks to work out. Most of them, like the malfunctions in HAL 9000 that led him to pick off and kill all the human astronauts on the spaceship, are harmless and endearing, and they are happening all over the world. In Germany, reports are coming in that messages such as "Hier sind alle total voll" ("Everybody here is totally drunk.") are innocently being sent to family and friends when the sender's intention is "toll" instead of "voll," changing the meaning to "Everybody here is absolutely great."

Despite its glitches, the coolest feature of Predictive Text is its ability to become familiar with words that I use frequently. Words like "pixar," "mtc" and "piano" are immediately suggested to me. Sometimes entire phrases are suggested. When I begin typing "I," Predictive Text finishes it up for me with "I want to watch a Pixar movie." How does it know?? It is becoming smarter every day. My phone can see and take pictures, speak, make calls—soon will I really be a necessary element in the process of making phone calls?

In a way, if my phone were to take over, my life would get a lot easier. It could make phone calls home for me. "Hello," it would say to my mom, "this is Derrick's Predictive Phone caller. How is the family? Have you seen any good movies lately?" Or it could ask girls out on dates for me, and probably do so in a way that is much cooler than I would. "Hi, would you be interested in going water skiing with me and then skydiving?"

The point is, I think there is some real untapped potential in this predictive technology. And that's why I'm choosing the Smile Hour to announce my great idea that combines two great technological miracles of our day. I call it, "Predictive Facebook."

I had this idea the other day when, out of curiosity, I went to the bottom of my profile page and clicked "Show Older Posts…." as many times as I could. It allowed me to see my profile page and all its changes dating back to July 5, 2006 at 2:16 when a friend posted on my wall about my recently received mission call. You know what this means? This means that somewhere in the depths of the supercomputers at Facebook Inc (located in the Pentagon if I am not mistaken), there is a record of every time I changed my status for the past nearly-three years. What sort of information about my personality and life have these computers gathered, and is it enough to predict when my status will change in the future?

My vision for users of Facebook is that with my new "Predictive Facebook," they will not even need to interrupt their busy lives in order for their Facebook friends to know their current statuses. This will free up the precious time college students and others use to procrastinate, and allow them to instead simply take naps when they would be wasting time changing their profiles. While they sleep, "Predictive Facebook" will change their status to "OMG I am so excited!" and "I am in love." After a while, it will be changed to "I am broken-hearted."

Well, readers, sorry it has been so long since my last post. The good news is that Blogger has started a new feature that will make it much easier to update when I am short on time. It's called "Predictive Blogging" and it's coming soon. And now I will go back to sleep.

Clarification, and Getting Started Right

2009-03-21T12:03:00.000-06:00

In my last blog entry, I wrote a list of qualities that I hoped to find in a girlfriend. My intentions were purely entertainment, but the comments I got from it led me to believe that I was a little bit misunderstood. Also, I regret that I may be passing up an unexpected woman out there that I really could love. So I'd like to write one more post on the subject and clarify some things:

When I wrote the original post, I didn't know people would take it seriously.
When I wrote the original post, I wasn't thinking properly.
Since I have written the post, I have decided lists are bad ideas.

The point is, I am not going to limit myself to pre-set lists. I know I could love a sarcastic, non-RM who hates music almost as much as she despises laughter. Deciding on qualities before deciding on people is silly. So please, allow me to retract my last post (but not the smiles you got out of it).

With that said, I have a new topic for discussion. If making lists of qualities and posting them to one's blog turns out to be an ineffective method of starting romance, then what are some effective ways of doing it? Yesterday in the Wilk I won some candy for participating in Disney Jeopardy in the terrace, and later I went up to a girl I didn't know and gave her the candy. I said, "I won this candy, and I want you to have it." Then I left and found a piano to play. As I was playing the piano, I thought, "maybe that would have been more effective if I had written my name and number on the candy wrapper so that when she opened it, she would see it."

I also am quite opposed to the dating "games." Maybe some of you have played them. They include heart-attacking doors, baking things, and participating in other activities that seem to be unrelated to the objective. Why can't we just be straight-forward? My ideal first encounter would be something like this:

PERSON WHO NOTICIES FIRST: (to themselves) "Wow, that person has a great smile!"

PERSON WHO IS BEING NOTICED: (to themselves) "Oh my, I think that person is noticing my smile! I like that person's smile too. I will smile more."

NOTICED FIRST: (smiles more also)

NOTICED FIRST GOES UP TO BEING NOTICED.

NOTICED FIRST: Hi.

BEING NOTICED: Hi.

NOTICED FIRST: I like your smile. My first name is _______________. What's yours?

BEING NOTICED: My first name is ____________. I like your smile too.

NOTICED FIRST: I would like your number so that I can call you when I want to ask you on a date so I can get to know you more. I would rather get your number than your full name because if I had your full name I would be tempted to stalk you on facebook before you have a chance to give the impression that you want to in person. Also I would read way too much into your "Interests" section and your photo albums.

BEING NOTICED: I would be interested in going on a date with you. So here is my number: XXX-XXX-XXXX. I agree that it is a good idea to wait to tell each other our last names—if we decide we don't like each other we won't have given out too much information to people we will never see again.

NOTICED FIRST: Excellent. Thank you.

BEING NOTICED: You're welcome. See you soon.

NOTICED FIRST: Yes, see you soon. Bye.

BEING NOTICED: Bye.

NOTICED FIRST EXITS, DANCING A LITTLE BIT. BEING NOTICED WATCHES UNTIL NOTICED FIRST IS NO LONGER IN SIGHT.

I admit that that scenario is kind of based solely on good looks. If interest is derived from other reasons, it's a whole other ball game. The point is, it would be nice to know how to start things off. It's scary. Any success stories (or untried, clever ideas) that you all know?

Somebody to Love

2009-03-14T21:59:00.000-06:00

Get out that pen and paper, ladies, this blog entry may change your life!

I have decided to temporarily turn this blog into a dating service, starring me. One of the most frequent questions I get asked is, "So Derrick, what are you looking for in a girl?" And I always laugh and say, "I am looking for Ximena Sariñana." Actually, that is a pretty recent development, as of this week I have a big crush on her. Qué felicidad!

But I am a big fan of falling in love. I am a pretty quixotic person myself, which means "so helplessly romantic that I search the internet for words that I can use instead of 'helplessly romantic.'" Just kidding, somebody told me that word.

Ok so world, are you ready? This is the list. Just remember that if you don't meet these qualifications, but we fall in love, I can throw the list away, because NOTHING is more powerful than love. I mean, a lot of things are more powerful than love, but none of that matters to me. Anyway, here is the list, in no particular order:

She is a returned sister missionary (or equivalent)
She loves music, but has an emphasis in something other than piano-playing
She appreciates humor, especially silly humor
She motivates me
She laughs
She is positive, doesn't make sarcastic or negative jokes
She talks to me
She understands me
She really loves me, just for being Derrick James Clements
The Gospel is the most important thing to her, even more than me
She is as classic and nutritious as a new box of Cheerios. And sometimes she says, "cheerio!"

Ok, that's all I've got so far. Did I forget anything? If so, please comment, and I will do the same.

A Captured (and Guarded) Memory

2009-03-12T16:08:00.000-06:00

Today's topic: family photos.

But first, I have some news that may come as quite a shock: apparently no one has implemented my solution to the economic problems yet. Instead, the president has decided to give billions of dollars to rich bank owners, hoping that those rich bank owners will lend some of it to us. Of course, the rich bank owners realize that it's us who got them into the mess in the first place by using their money to live out our dreamy American Dreams. So of course they kept for themselves that huge chunk of our money the government told them to loan to us, which pushes rich bank owners up to the second most greedy group of human beings.

The first spot leads us to our topic today, and belongs to professional photographers.

To be fair, the ability to take a good photo really is a rare enough skill to charge the big bucks. Whenever I take a picture with my camera phone and my friends want me to post it on facebook for them to see, I always sense the injustice of them benefiting from my photos without paying anything to me. If I had twenty dollars for every picture I've taken with my camera phone and posted to facebook, I would have enough to start my own bank (which, apparently isn't very much, another possible cause to our economic crisis). In fact, if I had just five dollars for every picture of mine someone viewed on facebook, I would have enough to start my own facebook! I better stop now before these entrepreneurial ideas turn me into a rich bank owner.

Anyway, even though it takes a lot of expensive talent to point and shoot, professional photographers charge way too much to do it for you. Unlike the common, everyday cell-phone photos that people like me snap for free, "family portraits" do not capture things as worthless or inexpensive as, say, actual events. No, leave the birthday parties and trips to the beach to the untrained eye. Professional, family portraits are like a sport that you dress up fancy before you play, and the objective is to see if you can get every member of the family to have, at the exact same time, the same forced-happy facial expression, and for the photographer to snap it in the instance it happens (that's how you make points.)

Like professional soccer or Quidditch, playing "family portrait" can be grueling, and some games can last several hours. Others lead to injuries, but in order to appreciate all the pain involved, you just have to understand the sport of it.

I learned this the hard way a few years ago, when my family took its most recent family photo. Back then there were only 19 and a half of us (Now there are like 24, and probably by the time I finish this entry another one will crop up). Really my family isn't that big if you consider the fact that certain insects actually have hundreds of offspring. Of course, in these cases the insect mother generally dies in labor or regains strength only by eating her husband and half of her offspring.

Now, if my family had been living in, say, the 19^th century, our family photo would have been a piece of cake. Back then no one smiled in photos. They probably only took one or two. No one pretended that sitting for several hours made them happier than winning the lottery. The purpose of the family portrait back then was silly—it was just to capture the image of the family so their posterity would know what they looked like. Of course, this way, there would be no sport.

I'm glad that my posterity will know my generation as the first to achieve real happiness. I can just see my descendents now, looking through generation after generation of Clements family portraits. When they get to mine they'll say, "man, I wonder why these older people were so sad, and then these people were all so happy!" And they will start to question what really makes a person happy, and they will realize that the secret to true happiness is to make funny faces and wear funny hats to make bored children laugh.

A Valentine’s Day Survival Kit

2009-02-14T01:17:00.000-07:00

It's Valentine's Day today and so I was lying on the couch reading Dr. David D. Burns' classic romance, "Feeling Good." And I found out that to be happy, a person just has to decide to be independent and not trust people. And you know he's right! Cynicism and solitude really are important steps along the path of Feeling Good!

For your romantic pleasure, I have linked certain words of today's blog to links that will enhance your understanding of this entry, including links to great romantic classic love songs. They will make you feel so in love! So if the affection bursting through the air today causes your lungs to expand and contract in strange ways, feel free to follow the links and let your elation be translated into song or other surprises!

I know that today, a lot of you are very happy. After all, February 14 is a wonderful day to alive. But a lot of you also may be sad today. And the very thought of other people not experiencing joy tonight just makes me so sad! So if you are sad tonight, don't worry about a thing. I am here to help you survive this Valentine's Day. I can help you find all the happiness you need, combined into just a few simple steps that would make even Dr. Burns jealous.

Step #1: Remember that a lot of people are sad with you tonight.

Well, not with you. Like you, these fellow frustrated friends are all by themselves tonight, eating stale sugar cookies and doing homework and writing blog entries and being alone. And you can find comfort in the fact that somewhere out there, somewhere on the other end of a wishing star, there truly is somebody else, somebody you haven't even met! Somebody who, like you, longingly looks up at that same star…and that person is just as miserable as you are tonight.

Step #2: Tomorrow, Valentine's Day will be over.

And think of what it will bring for all those silly romantics who spent tonight looking into each other's eyes and pretending to be in love, just to be able to get through the holiday. Regret. Falsehood revealed. So many other terrible things will be exposing their terrible thing-heads tomorrow, and you are not part of it. Having no regrets the day after Valentine's Day is sweeter than the sweetest box of lover-given chocolates. And you are lucky enough to not have any! Regrets, I mean. Well, except for maybe the regret that comes from the fact that somewhere along the way, you weren't good enough to "have someone." Or, perhaps the regret of having "lost someone." But there's nothing you can do about that (you have tried, haven't you?), so you might as well just move on and see what February 15 brings.

Step #3: Vow to never love again.

Whatever February 15 brings, don't ever, ever, ever, let yourself love someone. Dr. Burns is right—you are better off alone, and there is nothing like the joy and satisfaction that can come from waking up alone, taking a deep breath with your own two lungs, and getting out there and getting something done. Then, at the end of a hard day's work, you can say, "look at what I have done!" And you can take your accomplishment and you can snap a picture with it! And you can put that picture on the wall! Just make sure your camera has a self-timer.

Well, readers, by following my simple formula Dr. Burns and I are sure that you can have a "great Valentine's Day" this year! Just remember, love was never meant to be easy. The most important successes in life take work in order to achieve, so no matter how hard life gets, just slap a smile on your face and eat a sugar cookie! Life is too short to be sad when you can still contribute so much to the world just by being yourself! After all, when it's all over, what are you going to take with you? Your loved ones? No, your contributions to secular society!

And that's what really matters. Happy Valentine's Day.

Redefining Friendship

2009-02-12T11:47:00.000-07:00

I just love people.

I was sitting in the library on campus today killing some time before my class and my list of things to do didn't really appeal to me, so I popped in my headphones and became part of the crowd. I am so much more comfortable around other human beings, so I chose a particularly busy area of the library, the "no shh zone." I just love that interaction. Computers will never be able to replace a warm human smile, and iPods will never replace the soft human voice of friendship.

On the left side of my little desk were some computers and this cute girl was sitting at one, talking to this dude. They weren't being rude by conversing together—it was, after all, the "no-shh zone" of the library, meaning that private conversations aren't allowed. So naturally I was listening in. I mean I wasn't eavesdropping on everything they said, but just a few things, like they were having a discussion about the origins of her last name (which I will not say here, because I care about her privacy). Anyway her last name is from Finland.

After not too long, her guy friend left and it was just me and her and everybody else in the library. We exchanged a glance or two, and had a conversation with our eyes. It went like this:

HER: "Hey, are you into me?"

ME: "I might be."

HER: "OK. Cool."

Well, I went back to my important putting-off of whatever it was that I was putting off and the next thing I know my new girlfriend is on the phone.

HER: "Hi, this is Ashley."

Ashley, I thought to myself. Ok, store that one away for now. And then it hit me—I know her last name, and I know her first name…I know enough! And immediately I pointed my browser to facebook. Actually it was already up. Anyway, I plugged in her first and last name in the friend search and smiled widely as several options with her name popped up. I went to the first one, and it was a girl, a student at BYU as well, but she didn't look familiar. The second choice was married, so I figured that even if it was her it wasn't worth it to even look, so I opened up the third choice.

Hey, I thought to myself, I think I found it! I furtively shifted my eyes to the left and compared what I saw with the girl in the photo. Pretty close, let me double check. So I clicked "View photos of Ashley (175)." Alright! 175! It only took a few though to determine with absolute certainty that it was indeed the same person. I felt so great! Human interaction! She was like three feet away from me! I wondered what she would think if she had to get up and had seen me looking at her profile page. Then she did get up, but luckily I had already minimized my Firefox screen.

I went to her "Info" page. Alright, Ashley, I thought, who are you? The first thing I noticed was that we have one friend in common! Well, actually the friend we have in common is an acquaintance I know from back home. I don't really know how we became facebook friends, because I don't remember becoming friends in real life. In fact, I'm not really sure who this common friend is. Oh well.

I decided that it was a little early to start poking her, so I continued just casually getting to know her. Blast! Her relationship status is unlisted! But she is interested in Men. Yes!

It turns out that we actually have a lot of common interests, according to what she has listed on her profile page. They include "reading, learning, dancing, sports/exercising, making pots" and "embroidering." Ok so I'm not really that into those things, but I have them on my own profile so we have a lot in common.

Then the stars really started to align. Favorite movies: "Ratatouille – my new favorite movie!" Oh my goodness! A match made in heaven! This is so great! As I continued to have a long personal conversation with her profile page, I shifted my eyes around the crowd of fellow library-goers. Oh no! Somebody I know! I ducked down and averted my eyes. Whew! That was close.

I had to make the first move. So I made grabbed my phone to make a quick call to my bank. But I saw her packing up, so while it was still ringing, I spoke slowly and clearly into my phone: "Derrick Clements." The voice came on and asked me to enter my account number. I don't know my account number, so instead I just repeated very deliberately: "Derrick Clements." I glanced quickly over at her, content with my boldness. First and last name. She has all the information that she needs.

Then I had to go to class, so now we just wait. First comes friends, then comes friends-with-limited-profile, then comes top friends, then comes changed relationship status! I just love facebook!

Solution to today’s economic troubles

2008-10-29T17:06:00.000-06:00

79 years ago today, October 29, was a day we now remember as "Black Tuesday." On that day, the stock market crashed. Kind of like a few weeks ago, when the real estate…um…when the money crashed…when…you know. Something bad happened to the economy.

As a college student in the iTunes/YouTube/Sesame Street/mp3/Obama-loving/think-on-our-own generation, I didn't know how to react until I emailed my family and asked them what I should think. They told me. It was good.

I turned to the Ultimate Source of my generation's knowledge to dig deep into this horrible state of American money. What I read there disturbed me: our wonderful generation is getting mixed up in an era many are calling a second Great Depression. I don't know much about what that means, although I'm pretty sure it's scarier than when they change the terror color. If they had a color scale for the economy, right now the color would be a Disney's Technical Parade Extravaganza. Blues! Reds! Flashes of brilliant orange! Who knows what color it will be tomorrow?

Yes, it's a difficult time. But America, all hope is not yet lost. I have, with all the creativity of my generation, concocted a plan that, if I do say so myself, is as brilliant as the flashing yellow on the Economy Terror Scale. I hope Obama and McCain both read this.

My plan is patriotic. It uses America's strengths to overcome its weaknesses. I call my plan: World War 3.

After all, most historians say that the Great Depression only ended upon our entry into the war in 1941 (though most also agree it was still Greatly Depressing). But I say, let's do it. I am positive we could do this. I mean, there are a lot of easy choices to start off with—Iran, Russia, the evil Korea (I forget which one that is), etc. In fact, it doesn't really matter which place we take out next. But mark my words: War will prove to be the end of this nation. I mean this nation's economic troubles.

The third Rocky was the best one. The third Indiana Jones was the best one. The third Toy Story is going to be sweet! (I hope we make it to 2010!) The third World War will be so awesome.

Now I know that some of you may be opposed to this plan. "Cruel" you may say. "Evil" you may say. Well, I say, let's let history be judge of that. History is where I am taking my cues in this idea—or do you prefer paying off billions of lost dollars with billions of imaginary government dollars? At least my idea comes from history, not steals from the future. It's time for a Nuke Deal.

Reminded of what my mission means to me

2008-10-04T17:11:00.000-06:00

I owe everything to a select few.

Tonight I went to a reunion for my mission, and I was reminded of the influence and gratitude I owe to my mission president and his wife. It is amazing when I imagine how blessed I am to have been taught for two years by a man like him.

Let me take a minute to explain the relationship of mission president/missionary as I see it. I had one throughout my whole mission, and for those two years my mission president was both an outlet to home and a close-range influence of a higher spiritual plane. Said differently, it’s like a having a personal association with both a father and an apostle. The relationship is in this condition for two years, but the influence goes far beyond that amount of time.

For me, I see in my mission president someone that I want to become, and the uncommon values again infuse themselves into my convictions when I think about his example. I feel lucky to have been guided by my mission president, and now to look back on the lessons that he taught me.

To everyone who may read this, I declare my appreciation for my mission. I hold it very deeply to my heart and revere it as one of the most profound blessings in my life. Words truly cannot express the beauty of my mission to me, but Mormon’s description of the place Mormon comes close. I have gratitude beyond what I can say, not just for the experiences that I had in Brazil, but for the person that I became there. I do not consider it to be the peak of my spiritual mountain (that lies ahead) but with the added strength that it gives me, I am more able to make that difficult journey.

Tonight was a good night.