Not Quitting My Day Job

You guys, I recently had the opportunity to be in two different commercials. So I should probably quit my day job so I can have a more flexible schedule to practice, you know, my "craft." Right? Let's first watch the commercials and then discuss together how I actually, probably, should not do that.

Yep, that's Utah Community Credit Union. I feel a particular loyalty, since they gave me my first car loan right after Katie and I were married. Our first big purchase! And UCCU was there for us. A single tear rolls down. Also, this shoot was great because I got a free lunch at The Melty Way! Guys, the perks of being a movie commercial star principal are pretty awesome.

The second commercial was for Baja Broadband. It was freezing outside, but that's not what I'll take away from this experience. No. What I'm taking away from this is that I am 42 and my wife in the commercial is … 23. And she's from England! I don't know what this is supposed to say about my character in the commercial. I'm guessing this is a second marriage for him. He's had a midlife crisis. He's super wealthy, guys. And he doesn't put up with other men ogling his wife. That's what I decided when I was doing a deep study of my character and what his motivation would be. I hope it comes through in the commercial.

The Many Faces of Google

You may have heard that Google Fiber recently arrived in Provo, Utah. If you want to know what  exactly that means, read this short article by my friend and yours, Christian Faulconer (the David Letterman of Provo), who actually toured the Google Fiber facility.

My home was officially Google Fibered last week, so I'm a fan. But I'm probably also inclined because our family got to be a part of the ad campaign! And now, since you didn’t ask, I’d like to give you some “Behind the Scenes” of the Google ad. Some “The Making Of” goodies. Some DVD bonus features.

It all started when Google decided they needed a gi-normous family, in order to back up their slogan for Provo: Bigger Broadband for Bigger Families. Yup. That’s us. We are officially a family of 10. But at the time of filming, back in December 2013, we were still getting used to our size, as Hillary had been born only 3 weeks earlier. And it was mid-December with Christmas fast approaching. So, not to brag, but, you know...we were kind of out of our minds and barely keeping it together.

For example, I remember one Sunday morning my 8 year old came into my room to tell me he was ready for church. Judging by his pants, he was either anticipating a flood, or had grown 5 inches overnight. His white shirt - his white short-sleeve shirt in 22 degree weather - looked like it had been wadded up in a tennis-ball container since summer. His hair looked like it was in a fight with itself. We locked eyes, and without blinking, I said, “Lookin’ good, bud; go get in the car.”

So, back to our story, the ad folks from Google came out from San Francisco and showed up at our house the day before filming, so they could do that thing where directors make their fingers into squares so they have a “camera view” as they scan the area for what they plan to film. They were super nice and friendly and encouraging - which is how they tricked us into going through the hassle of taking down our Christmas decorations for the commercial.

The day of the shoot, two different crews were there from 9:30 a.m. to about 4:30 p.m. The morning was for the film crew who rearranged the house, set up lighting, wardrobe, make-up, etc. Meanwhile, I went to work for a couple of hours and came home around 11:00 a.m. When I pulled up to the house, it was a complete and awesome spectacle. I had to park down the street, as my house was surrounded by trucks, cars, and equipment. The garage was full of racks of clothing and craft services. I so badly wanted to know what the neighbors thought was going on.

I walked in the front door, and in addition to my family, the house was buzzing with another 25 people. The furniture was different, lights were everywhere, a woman I didn’t recognize walked by holding Lucy, my two-year old, and they were deep in conversation. Then I saw somebody I knew - my five-year old, Becca. She was already in new wardrobe and make-up, and my goodness - she was gorgeous. She looked like a movie star. She hugged my legs, careful not to wipe her lip gloss on my pants.

Our master bedroom had been converted into “the changing room,” and our daughters’ room had become “hair and make up,” with several salon chairs. Some poor man almost lost his mind trying to figure out if all the kids had been through both rooms and were ready. The house sounded like a dinner party and smelled like coffee. I met the creative director and account executive from the ad agency and part of the team from Google. Lots of handshakes, lots of “thank yous” ... they were really warm and lovely people. Full of genuine compliments about how great my children were. (And if you ever want to win somebody over, tell a dad that his kids are amazing.)

First we shot our portion of the commercial. That’s Katie and Garren at the kitchen table on a tablet - they are supposed to be doing homework, but they’re watching Thor 2 trailers. Then there’s Abbie on the laptop, emailing friends. And that’s Tanner, running from the kitchen to the couch, to join the rest of us who were watching The Avengers on a TV that isn't ours, but the kids desperately hoped was one of the perks of the job. So most of us just had to sit there, acting natural. (Hillary nailed it.) Except Tanner. He and the director had a special relationship. It went like this: The director would say, “Just one more time, Tanner.” And Tanner would whisper to me under his breath, “I just want to watch the movie.” This happened 23 times. He was a trooper.

Then we all broke for lunch. The film crew packed out their gear, and the stills crew packed in theirs. The producers materialized the most delicious craft services, but they also ordered a bunch of pizzas for my kids. My kids loved them for this.

Everybody was so kind. They interacted with my kids, we all told stories, they asked about my career and our family. It was clear that minds were blown and pants were pooped by the fact that we had 8 children and yet we were magically void of any meltdowns, spills, injuries, or wardrobe malfunctions. The gods of advertising smiled on us that day.

Then they took a family photo of us.

Then we did a photo shoot in our kitchen. Katie was in the front, holding a frame where the gifted designers would later superimpose our new family photo. Behind Katie were all our children - a mix of baking, cleaning, and playing with electronics. And that is the billboard currently making the scene all over Provo.

As the day was wrapping up the delightful wardrobe lady came over and told me that she was going to leave us the wardrobe used for the shoot. Awesome! Then they told us they were leaving the rest of the craft services with us because nobody wanted to haul the food away. Dinner is served! And the photographer said they would make sure we got the family photo.  Christmas in December!

Then, my favorite part. The gentleman from Google came over to me and said, “I’ve been watching your kids all day. My wife and I have an 18-month old...and we plan to have more. I watch your kids and I get excited - thinking of my children being as good of friends as yours are.”  And as fun and exhausting as the entire day was - that was the moment when my day was made. Yes, we are a big family. Yes, that often means things aren’t on time or wrinkle-free or at a low volume. But sometimes, against all odds, it means maybe you get to be a force for good in the world.

Happy 20th Anniversary to All The Garrens!

It was 20 years ago today, January 22, 1993, that we performed our first show. This photo was taken that night. The guy lying horizontal on the floor did the lights for us that night. None of us remember his name or have any clue where he is now. We suspect Witness Protection. 

I recently received an email from Joanie, a delightful young lady I knew from my early days at BYU. And more to the point, the daughter of one Joyce Joan Garren

Joyce Garren was my “Hall Mom” my freshman year, when I lived in the BYU campus dorms previously known as Deseret Towers. (Now known as “rubble.” Apparently they felt the need to build newer dorms, so they just decided to pave paradise and put up a parking lot. Or new dorms. WHATEVER. Just destroy the home of my memories. It’s fine.)

But I digress.

I have two vivid memories of Sister Garren from that first year. One, I was in my dorm room getting ready for a Friday evening out with a lady-friend, when Sister Garren walked by and saw me attempting to sew a button back on to my shirt. She told me to hand the shirt over, and then she sat down on my bed, quickly sewed it on for me, and sent me off on my date with a hug. It made me miss my own mom; it was such a motherly thing to do. The second vivid memory from that year was…later that same night, when I came back from my date, and Sister Garren, waiting just inside the doors of the dorm, gave me a raised-eyebrow and straight-up told me she didn't approve of me dating that particular young lady. Wow, now she was really sounding like my mom.

I left on my LDS mission, returned with honor and the same hairline, and started back up at BYU, living off-campus. I had kind memories of Sister Garren, but hadn't ever anticipated her being involved in the remainder of my college life. But she sure was. 

In 1993, there were nine of us founding members of The Garrens Comedy Troupe; BYU’s first improv and sketch comedy group. The only reason for the name was that the founder, Eric D. Snider, and two of the other members were living in Deseret Towers, and Joyce Garren was their Hall Mom. And they liked the sound of it. So it stuck. (You can read the official history of The Garrens here.)

I have written about The Garrens before, as it was a wonderful part of the history of my life. I loved the creative energy, I love and value the friendships that came from this group, and it was where Katie and I met, courted, and married. (We technically married in the Salt Lake Temple, but we were still in The Garrens when we got married.) For a photo slideshow of those early years, click here. 

The Garrens performed from January 1993 until March 2001. And there, sitting in the back of the theater almost every Friday night, with her video camera rolling, was Joyce Garren. Proud to have us using her name. We didn't pay her. I don’t know that we ever even asked her to do it. But years of memories, emotions and laughter have been recorded because of her. Hours of personal history captured on film. I don’t know how to ever thank her.

Katie and I with Joyce Garren, 1995. 

That email from Joanie was to let me know that Joyce Garren had passed away. She died of cancer, at age 81.

Joanie’s email said, “We have boxes and boxes of video tapes and paraphernalia from The Garrens. She kept it all these years. I thought maybe you’d like to have it.”

I feel I should warn you that from time to time I will be posting Garrens’ videos. I want to pay tribute to those who were part of something I remember so fondly – whether they were in the group or the audience. The thing is, Sister Garren did not own state-of-the-art commercial video equipment. So…it’s pretty rough viewing. The years have not been kind to the ol’ magnetic video tape.

But for those of you who remember the glory days of The Garrens, or for those of you who want to see what Katie and I looked like in 1993, or for those of you who have already watched everything else on the You Tube and have finally arrived at the end of the Internet…I bring you another video of sketch comedy from The Garrens. (I have previously posted “Guys Apartment,” which you can view here.)

This sketch was called “Social Hugs 101.” It was written by Mark Berrett, and it’s a parody of the freshman-targeted class that was highly popular on BYU campus at the time, known as Social Dance 101.

In this sketch, Mark is our “professor,” and he is walking us through a number of socially (and otherwise) acceptable types of hugs as an end-of-semester final exam.

It was 1993, still the first year that The Garrens were performing.

Here is what I remember about this sketch:

* When Mark showed up at practice to pitch and cast the sketch…he cast Katie and I in our roles…and our eyes locked. And suddenly, we had an understanding. And that understanding was that we were going to have to talk to each other, as we had held maybe two conversations before this.

* We only had three girls in the cast at the time. We needed four for this sketch. Dave Shipp was cast as the fourth girl. The “physical comedy” between Lincoln and Dave was improvised that evening and you can see all of us shocked – SHOCKED – when Lincoln pretty much man-handles Dave. 

*I love it when Mark asks the benefits of a “Side Hug” and Jeni sheepishly says, “If you have only one arm you can still do it.”

* When Dallen and I demonstrate the Jock Hug, he really did hit my bum super hard.

If you’re interested, please check out The Garrens Facebook page and Like us! We are considering a 20 year reunion show later this year! Would you come? 

I don't often keep my COMMENTS on, but I'm going to leave them on. Let us know if you remember us, if you came to shows, and if you would come to a reunion show! And if you wouldn't, tell us why you're such a jerk. We want to know.  

I'm the only male in a red shirt. Katie is in the green shirt, far left. Here is Social Hugs 101...

Your Life is An Occasion

We occasionally have Movie Night around our house. I kind of like to consider this one of my parenting contributions. Katie has her things; what, with the encouraging morals and values and preparing our children to be valiant, contributing members of society. But when it comes to introducing superheroes, Hobbits, Indiana Jones (with the face melting edited out), or the comical genius of Steve Martin and Martin Short singing “My Little Buttercup"...it's best to just leave that in my hands. 

Recently Abbie, my fifteen year old, asked if we could watch Mr. Magorium’s Wonder Emporium. I remember when it came out in theaters; which is saying something, because I don’t think it was there for very long. She had already seen it at somebody else’s house while babysitting. She’d even asked if we could watch it on a previous Movie Night, but I dismissed it because we needed to watch Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs for a third time, instead.

Our lovely Abbie (on the right) and our cute Becca.

Having no real defense for not watching it, and recognizing that she had been patient when I turned my nose up at it the first time, I agreed. I was also interested to see why it was that Abbie loved it so. I was hoping maybe it would tell me something about her.

Now, please recognize that I am not recommending this movie to you. I don’t know your tastes; and this is a quirky movie that is certainly not everyone’s cup of Postum. But I will admit that this movie affected me, though in a way that I won’t suggest would or should affect everybody. But the stars kind of aligned for me, I guess, and it was a perfect storm.

In a nutshell, here is the story. Natalie Portman plays a 23 year-old musical prodigy, and works for Dustin Hoffman, the Mr. Magorium of said Wonder Emporium, which is essentially a magical wonderland. Now, when Natalie was younger, everyone told her she was a musical genius, a brilliant pianist. That she was special. And she believed them. But now she has grown up, and isn’t so sure.

There is no mention of Natalie’s parents, but Mr. Magorium is somewhat of a father figure to her. And she clearly cares for him, as if she were a daughter. So she is shocked the day that Mr. Magorium tells her that he is “leaving this life.” He is not depressed, and this is not about suicide. He has magically lived for more than a hundred years, and it’s simply “time to go.” He is not upset by this. But whoa-nelly, Natalie sure is! And she is not flattered that he wants to leave the store to her. On the contrary, she believes nobody can or should run the store but him; least of all, her. But before he goes, he gives her this wonderful, inspiring speech you can see below in this clip from the movie. He also tells her that she has this something in her. This sparkle. This uniqueness that makes her divine.

But Natalie still doesn’t feel it. 

After Mr. M is gone, there’s a scene where Natalie and Jason Bateman (who plays the no-nonsense accountant that Mr. Magorium hires to figure out what the store is worth) are in the store, after-hours, alone. It’s quiet, and she stands before Jason and asks him, “When you look at me, what do you see?”

“Really pretty eyes?” he guesses.

And she timidly asks back, “Do you see a sparkle?”

He’s confused.

She tries again. “Something reflective of something bigger, trying to get out.”

And that’s when I felt the lump in my throat.

I’m not exactly sure what that was about, but I believe it had something to do with my daughter. Maybe it’s because I could see similarities between Abbie and Natalie’s physical features, so I projected Abbie into that situation. Maybe it was because I thought of how Abbie was probably seeing herself in Natalie. Maybe it’s because I felt I was watching the story of a father, lovingly wanting to instill this confidence in his daughter, of how incredible and lovely and talented and capable and sparkly and delightful she is…and then to no longer be the prominent male figure in her life, because he is not there and she has grown up…and now she stands before this other man, and in complete vulnerability, asks him if he sees greatness in her. If he recognizes a sparkle. Asking him to validate the feelings and truths that were planted there years before.

And then my favorite part, at the end of the movie (spoiler alert), when Natalie has experienced the needed opportunities to prove to herself that she is all that Mr. Magorium promised her she was, and then – then, Jason Bateman sees the sparkle. Once she believed in herself, the sparkle was evident.

This is what the movie left me quietly reflecting on: I hope that despite my flaws and massive imperfections, my children believe me when I tell them there is greatness in them; that they sparkle. I hope they will remember their childhood and youth as a time they marinated in love. I hope that I am providing the opportunities they need to face experiences that require them to look up, rise up, and walk up; and that when they rise to the occasion, they recognize it. And that whomever they decide to spend their life and eternity with will see the sparkle and enhance it.

Do you have a comment? A quirky movie that affected you when you simply thought you were about to be bored for 80 minutes? Visit Part Time Authors, where this was posted this morning, and let me know.

A Hawaiian Honeymoon

Katie and I were married 17 years ago today.

We honeymooned in Hawaii.

Some of you may already know that the summer before my senior year in high school, my family moved to Hawaii; specifically to the island of Molokai. When you tell people you lived on Molokai, you get one of two responses. “Never heard of it” or “Isn’t that where the lepers are?” You are correct on both accounts. For the most part, even people who live on another Hawaiian island raise their eyebrows and are most surprised to hear that there are people alive and well on Molokai. In short, you will not find Molokai in your Fabulous Hawaiian Vacation brochure. Unless you were hoping to see the lepers; but even then, there isn’t much left of them. (Rim shot.)

Molokai is gorgeous; just simply a more rural island that doesn’t particularly cater to tourists. I suppose that could be bad, if you have a Molokai-based tourist business; but let me tell you, it’s pretty fantastic if you’re on your honeymoon.

Katie and I spent about three days on Oahu doing the standard tourist fare, and then we ventured over to Molokai for another four days. Our set up on Molokai was pretty spectacular.

On the west end of the island was a large, spacious, fully-furnished home that the developer could not sell. So it sat empty. The builder was a friend of my dad’s, and he offered the home to us for our honeymoon.

The home was two stories, the décor was white. It was open and airy, spacious inside. There were no neighbors. The back of the house was all windows and the veranda overlooked the ocean. Whenever someone tells me to go to my “happy place,” this is where my mind goes.

Can you imagine? A palatial home on a remote Hawaiian island – just hoping somebody would come honeymoon in it? It is nothing short of miraculous that we ever came back to the mainland.

Days were filled with the beach, meals in small local restaurants, visiting beautiful spots of the island, and very little else. The world was still.

I recognized even during the time we were there that life would soon get busy and we would most likely look back and wonder if we truly took full advantage of these days when time left us alone. We felt we were taking it all in, even if there is no way to measure it.

On our last afternoon there, just moments before driving to the airport, we stopped to take some video footage of our favorite beach. Then, as we walked from the beach back to the car, crossing a golf course, Katie started laughing. I wish I could remember what the impetus was; but whether it was because she was tired or just happy, it was one of those laughs that simply take over. She couldn’t stop giggling.

I didn’t want her to, either. There was something in that moment that endeared me even more to her. It may have been the culmination of our honeymoon; or maybe I felt the dynamic of that instant – that it was fleeting and could never be revisited. I think for some peculiar reason, it was settling in my senses that we were going to get on a plane, fly home…and be home…together. That thought, that perception, made me profoundly happy.

I pulled out the video camera and caught the last few seconds of Katie’s giggle-fit. I will always remember watching her and thinking to myself that I could never possibly love her more than I did right in that moment.

And I have never been happier to admit I was wrong.

And guess what – I found the video! P.S. VHS tapes do not hold up well after 17 years. Sorry about the quality.

Happy anniversary, Katie! I love you with all that I am. 

The Men In Black of 2005

In honor of the recent release of Men In Black III (and boy, I think we can all agree that MIB 2 left far too many unanswered questions; and we, as a country, have been INSANE WITH IMPATIENCE, waiting to see how they tie up all those loose ends), I would like to present this blast from the past.

The year was 2005, and I was a counselor in this, our ward bishopric: Tracy Truman, Ricky Monroe, Micah Richins, Pete Toolson...and myself.

What you might notice:

1. Bishop TJT, one of the finest men I've ever known, flaunts his only weakness: Lip Syncing.
2. I don't have a single grey hair.
3. Scientifically speaking, not one of us has rhythm.

I Miss You, Katie.

Dear Katie, I will be home tomorrow. I've missed you.

Friday Films: Guys' Apartment

Today’s Friday Films is a live performance from The Garrens.

If you are not familiar with The Garrens, this is the improv and sketch comedy troupe that Katie and I were both in during our college days at BYU. This is also where Katie and I met, fell in love, tore our ACL on stage (that was mostly Katie) and were voted Most Likely to Undress on Stage (that was mostly me). I’ve written about The Garrens on a few other occasions. Specifically how we came to be, our history, and then how Katie and I came to be. You can read those bits by clicking here. And I, of course, endorse doing so.

Each Friday night we performed our original material on campus at 7:30 p.m. and 9:15 p.m., to a crowd of about 750 people between the two shows. It was a wonderful creative outlet, and I dearly miss it, as well as those I was blessed to perform with and call my friends.

This particular sketch featured today is called Guys’ Apartment. In the spirit of full disclosure, I will admit that I wrote this particular bit. One night, when Katie and I were dating, I was hanging out at her apartment and all her roommates were there and I was watching them all interact. I realized that there were these very real customs or cultures that went on in college girls’ apartments. And I noticed that they were vastly different than men’s apartments, where the only real “custom” is to shut the bathroom door when you’re sitting in there. That was usually followed.

So I watched Katie and her roommates interacting and thought how funny it would be to have a sketch where the men are acting just like college girls – not effeminate or girly, but adapting to their customs. So I went home and wrote this sketch.

Now, please keep in mind I wrote this for a very targeted audience. If you were not a girl attending BYU in the mid-90s…you may not catch every detail and joke. For example, it was a BYU tradition in girls apartments that if a girl kissed her date goodnight, she had to buy ice cream for all her roommates. So some things may be lost. Additionally, at this point, you could consider this a “period piece.” It was written and performed in 1995, for crying out loud. Most people did not have cell phones, email, or the Interwebs.

Also, the filming of it is not with the most high-tech equipment. The sound is especially inferior. So you have to listen quite carefully. Also, you should know, my character is loosely based on Katie.

Thank you for indulging me. I really used to have a good time performing this particular sketch. The last time we performed it was in the Marriott Center, about 16 years ago. So go back with me to 1995, somewhere in a girls’ apartment near BYU…

Friday Films: Shearer Genius Designs

I’d like to introduce a new feature here at The Craig Report that I may or may not commit to doing on a weekly basis. I’m going to call it Friday Films! (Please note: Actual films may or may not be featured.)

Our first gem was filmed in 2002, but I only recently purchased the software to convert old video tapes to digital. So – hooray! – you are all in for a real treat as we gather around and watch old home movies starring the Craigs!

WAIT, DON’T GO!

This will be worth your 60 seconds.

For our first installment of Friday Films, I’d like to showcase my adorable wife, Katie. (I sort of have her permission.) This film is entitled “Shearer Genius Designs.”

Here is the Behind the Scenes story. Katie was feeling flummoxed about the decorating of our home. She just didn’t feel this was her talent. After mentioning this to our dear friend and yours, Jeni Shearer, Jeni stopped by one afternoon and in the sum total of about 20 minutes, completely changed our home for the better.

Because Katie is so clever and delightful, she couldn’t just write a simple note thanking Jeni for her help. No. She did this. She filmed a “thank you” for Jeni – in the form of a fake infomercial-style tribute.

I’m not sure what my favorite part is, but I think I’ve narrowed it down to two things. One, the “character” that Katie decided to play in her infomercial has it all: including some sort of throat-warble, fake mole drawn above her lip, and a wonky eye. I would watch an entire movie about this character. My other favorite thing is Katie’s dedication to getting it done. Not only was she holding the camera herself, she was also battling three tiny children who, as you’ll be able to see, almost refused to let her film without their interference. Yet, she managed to out-maneuver the outnumbering marauders.

One final note, there is no such thing as Shearer Genius Designs, though there should be. So don’t bother Googling it or trying to hire their services. Katie made up the name. But with a name like Shearer, it practically makes itself up.

Enjoy your Friday Films!

Not From the Pulpit

The reviews are in and the critics all agree - THIS is a YouTube video!

My friend and bishopy-colleague, Bishop Mike, and I took a break from out weekly interview appointments and thought we'd make this video to demonstrate for the youth of the Church the dangers of YouTube.

If only ONE young man is terrified enough to stop squandering time flagrantly surfing YouTube and instead delves into his Duty to God booklet...I consider it a success.

Enjoy. And please YouTube responsibly.

40 Movies

For those of you keeping score at home, I turned 40 on Thursday.  Nothing much seems to have changed, really, except I think I might be having problems with my memory.  But that’s been going on for a while. I’ll find myself searching for a word that I KNOW I know, you know? But I can’t seem to find it. Anyway, for those of you keeping score at home, I turned 40 on Thursday. Nothing much seems to have changed, really, except I think I might be having a problem with my memory. Did I tell you this already?

So the idea came to me to share My Top Favorite 40 Movies. 40 Movies for 40 Years! But then I remembered how much I struggle with making lists of “favorite things.” I am horrible at it. Truth be known, I only have three things I can list as “my favorite.” 1. My favorite wife. (Katie) 2. My favorite brand of ice cream. (Haagen-Dazs) 3. My favorite Billy Ray Cyrus song. (None of them).

So the best I can offer you is 40 Movies I Like That I Conveniently Had on My Apple TV that Were Easy To Edit Together. Don’t get me wrong, these are movies that left impressions on me – whether they were instantly quotable, made me laugh, changed my perspective, haunted me, or resonated with me on some level. But I can’t say with any conviction that these are my “favorite.” And don’t try to make me! That list is fluid and ever-changing.

I’m sure you have a similar list in your head, and I’m sure it’s wildly different than mine. I’m not here to debate, just share. Unless you want to debate why I don’t have any Martin Lawrence movies on this list: because I have a very sound argument for that.

(P.S. Bishop Craig would like to make you aware that a handful of these movies must be viewed on TBS, CleanFlicks, or ClearPlay. Or else!)

So how many can you name? CLICK HERE 

Tanner's Debut

My imaginative and formerly-reserved son, Tanner, turned five years old on Saturday.  The best thing about Tanner is that if you have the time, he will gladly occupy it by relaying to you whatever is on his mind. And if you don’t cut him off, he will not on his own accord stop talking. And some of the things he says will leave you amused and often puzzled. It’s delightful and entertaining, and, like, way cheaper and more appropriate than most things you could spend your money on in Las Vegas.

And speaking of appropriateness and Tanner, I have a video for your viewing play-sure.

When Tanner was 2 years old, our stake (Biblical/LDS term for a gathering of “wards” or congregations, usually about 5 to 12 wards) produced a play for all to enjoy. It was a “musical revue,” wherein a number of pieces from different Broadway musicals were performed, tied together loosely by a storyline written by my very own wife and resident hotty, Katie.

Katie, 8 months pregnant with Becca, was working together with the director and as they were deciding on which musical numbers would work for the show, someone joked about the idea of having an 8-month pregnant Katie Craig sing “I’m Just a Girl Who Cain’t Say No” from the musical “Oklahoma.” Because really, what’s a stake play without some good ole’ fashioned innuendo?

And somehow it happened. It was decided that Katie would sing the song and our five children – with an additional three that were actually not our children – would be part of the number, with me kind of standing in the background.

Since my part was minimal and the director knew my schedule, she told me I only needed to come to the last two practices before the performances started. (And that is why she is going to heaven.) During the practices I watched Tanner in complete amazement. Without encouragement, at only 2 years old, he followed his brothers and sisters, doing whatever they did. It was adorable! But the thought kept coming to me that practices were one thing, and performing on a lighted stage in front of 1,000 people was something entirely different. I had my concerns about opening night.

Not only did he do it, but he stole the show. You can’t hear all the laughter on the video because the microphones were fed directly into the cameras, but the place fell apart whenever he did something. This adorable 2 year old in a red union-suit (you know, with the buttoned-up bum) was all about the performance. And at the part where we all gather in a circle with our hands on our knees, Tanner is shaking what his momma gave him right at the audience, and I bet there was pants-wetting going on in that there crowd.

So, here’s to you, Tanner. One of the most entertaining people I’ve met in my life. I hope you never change.

For a bigger picture, click here.

My Recent Job Interview

Beginning October 4^th I will be the proud employee of SealSource International. SealSource provides products for sealing and protecting commercial and retail flooring. Their products are the most technologically advanced available – the latest in Lithium Technology – and all products are “green.” You could even drink it if you wanted! (Note: I’d check what the calories are first. Also, I don’t think it’s cherry flavored, so it might not be delicious. You know what, just forget I said anything about drinking it.)

I’m on their sales team. (So I should check on that “you can drink it” angle. Might not be the main selling point.) I’m really excited about the opportunity.

My interview with SealSource was last month. It was actually a highly enjoyable job interview. How often can you say that? I never feel more exposed, transparent, or sweaty then during a job interview. I would rather watch a thousand Hannah Montana episodes (or “Party in the U.S.A.” twice) then go to a job interview. Such a peculiar animal. (Job interviews, not Miley Cyrus. And I think it’s important I make the distinction, because there’s room there for confusion.)

I’ve had my fair share of jobs, too. And that equals a diaper-load of interviews. My first three job interviews, post-college, looked a great deal like this:

My most fascinating job interview was with a digital imaging company. This was many years ago and my friend, Brent, turned me onto this opportunity, as he had been with the company on the technical support side of things for a number of years. He lined up the interview for me, then he called me a few minutes beforehand.

“Uhm…you’re interviewing with Bo…he’s the president of the company.”

“Great.”

“Yeah…uhm…he wants us to come to his house for the interview. He hasn’t come in to work yet. He….I’m sorry Ken, this whole thing is really unprofessional. Whatever you do, don’t wear a tie.”

Brent picked me up and we drove over to Bo’s house. We walked into his backyard, and I suddenly found myself staring at a very thin Elliot Gould, circa Ocean’s 11. The man had on a robe, shorts, flip-flops, sunglasses, a baseball cap, and thin cigar between his lips that had quit smoldering about 15 minutes prior. He claimed to be from Las Vegas, but if so, then he picked up a New York accent from hanging out with the mob for too, too long.

He was hanging out in his back yard, having one of his employees – I’m not making this up – fix his pool. We sat down at the patio table: me, Brent, Elliot Gould, and his other employee.

“So, Ken…tell me about yourself.” (Said in thick, Jewish, NY accent from Las Vegas.)

“Well, I was previously working at Now Defunct Bank of Nevada (name changed to protect…myself0, where we did $300 million in revenue last year.”

“And was that because of you?” (It suddenly became apparent this guy was trying to compliment me, no matter what I said or had done.)

“Well, no. I wasn’t a loan officer, I was the director of marketing. So, really, I would try to drive the business to the loan officers.”

“So, they couldn’t have done it without you, is that what you’re saying? Don’t be modest.”

“Well, I –”

“Can you create a marketing plan?”

“Sure.”

(Looking at Brent, with a very smug look.) “That’s great, because Brent here hasn’t created one yet – and I’m sorry to say, Brent, my wife is very upset with you.” (Mrs. Elliot Gould is the CFO of the company.)

“Uhm…I’m tech support. I don’t think that’s my job…?” said a perplexed Brent.

“What else, Ken?”

“Well, I was working at Now Defunct Communications (name has been changed to protect me again)…but they are having financial difficulties.”

“Didn’t they know that before they hired you?”

“You’d think so.”

“So, they hired you to save them…but it was too little, too late.”

“I guess. Like I was hired to steer the Titanic.”

“You know…I saw Titanic yesterday for my third time…(wait for it)…powerful movie.”

We sat at that table for about an hour, experiencing tangent after tangent, before Bo/Elliot Gould stood up and announced, “Let’s take this conversation to a restaurant. You like steak?”

On the way out to the car he has me follow him into his house, where his wife was on death’s door with some kind of croup. I waited in the hallway, with Bo about ten feet from me, looking into a bedroom, and having a one-sided conversation with someone I hoped was his wife.

“We’re going to The Ranch House, do you want something? Why don’t you come here and meet Ken Craig. I know you’re sick, but he’s right here. Well, do you want something form the restaurant? I know you’re sick, just come meet Ken Craig…we’re on our way to the restaurant. What are you watching, Titanic?”

She walked out to meet me and shook my hand. And if whatever was making her feel that sick was on her hand, I was certainly not going to be eating steak before washing my hands. She looked like she had been praying for death and was hoping I could assist with her termination. We exchanged pleasantries, she whispered “Please kill me,” and Bo, Brent, Employee, and I left.

We sat down at the restaurant and Bo offered me the job. Boom. It was mine. He said he’d have to run it by his wife, the CFO, but as far as he was concerned, it was mine. Said he’d call me early the next week.

I never got that phone call. The next Sunday Brent told me that Bo/Elliot Gould had checked himself into rehab in Reno. But he said Mrs. Elliot Gould was still alive and still wanted to interview me. We met and she offered me the job, in between puffs on her non-Virginia Slim cigarettes. She said, “Well, I’m going to have to look at the books, but I think we can get you what you are asking for.” I never did get what I was asking for, because the next Sunday Brent told me she was filing for divorce and they weren’t sure what was going to happen with the company. I told him “You know what, Brent, I’m not really interested in the job anymore.”

However, I AM interested in the job with SealSource. I am thrilled to be a part of the team. And just so you know – this is a national sales position, so if any of you have connections to people who manage or somehow make decisions on the maintenance or construction of large portions of floor space, please keep me in mind! The company would pay for that business trip and I would pay to take you out to dinner wherever you would like to go! The first glass of SealSource product is on me!

www.sealsource.com

My Favorite Thing This Season

No matter her whereabouts, the moment I turn on Christmas music, Becca will come barreling into the room, dancing and projecting this wall of energy scientific instruments are not yet able to measure. It has been my favorite thing this Christmas season.

If you took the aggregate of excitement and anticipation felt by all children around the world at Christmas and crammed it into an 18-month old child, I think it might look a little something...like this.

Stay Classy, Las Vegas

Say what you will about Las Vegas (and contrary to popular belief, what you say about Las Vegas will not stay in Las Vegas), but if you’re saying that it is a city void of culture, tradition, and virtue, then my friend, allow me to unveil an ardent and irrefutable defense.

Exhibit A: Culture. Is your hometown the host of the Liberace Museum, the Atomic Testing Museum, or a nude Cirque du Soleil show? Mm-hmm, I thought not. No culture, indeed.

Exhibit B: Tradition. Las Vegas has a long-standing tradition of freeway billboards that push the envelope of good taste and public decency; hearkening back to at least 1998, when I moved here, but possibly going back even earlier! My favorite? The new Stoney’s North Forty nightclub billboard I get to see everyday on my way home from work. It reads “A New Place to Sin in the Northwest.” Which is not only classy, but a much-needed establishment, as I polled my neighbors and discovered that most of them had run out of places to sin.

And finally, Exhibit C: Virtue. …yeah, I got nuthin’.

But because Las Vegas is such a family-centered city, for the kids, I present to you the Lied Discovery Children’s Museum. A place to encourage young minds, develop an early interest in science, broaden their horizons, and open their eyes to a world of wonder.

Or a world of snot, gas, and acid reflux. You know, either way. Whatever.

Our local Children’s Museum was recently featuring Grossology: The Impolite Science of The Human Body. All in the good name of science, of course, the museum took the private, unmentionable taboos of bodily functions, and really brought it down to a level the kids could wrap their minds around. And I think I hear your voices joining mine in a hallelujah chorus as we declare, “It’s about time, Las Vegas! Finally, something to infuse vision and hope into our children! The magic of mucus!”

It’s genius, really. An enlightening indoctrination of the noises and smells of the body that will be sure to take the mystery out of it all; with the result being that the kids will never find jokes about tinkle quite as funny as they once were.

…or will they?

Here are five of my six adorable children, still innocent. Before “culture” gave them the green light to openly maintain casual conversations about boogers and belches.

And may I please introduce you to the game sensation that is sweeping the nation. That's correct - Urine: The Game. Step aside Guitar Hero…there’s a new game in town. And I’m sorry, but if there is a more fascinating/entertaining way to learn about your urethra and where proteins go, then I’d like to see it. I mean, I defy you to find a more enthralling teaching method. Anyone? I didn’t think so.

My heart skipped a beat when I saw my three year old completely captivated as he received a stirring lecture on the finer points of nasal drip from a talking faucet. Bravo, Mr. Faucet. Bra. Vo.

This was almost emotional for me, seeing my little scientist, Connor, gain a firmer understanding of sphincters, and how to make his gas sound hilarious.

And this message was informative, but didn’t offer any definitive conclusion. “Most cultures consider tooting to be a private thing.” MOST? Most cultures? Which cultures do not consider this to be a private thing? Because I think my sons want to relocate to this highbrow neighborhood.



All I can say is: thank goodness for this sign. It really helped avoid a major embarrassment, and a major disaster.

I don’t recall what distinctive area of the body this climbing wall was supposed to represent, but I have to believe it was disgusting on some level. Are those polyps? I don’t know.

Finally, a shot of my 8-year old in a bubble, and some museum employee, taking a cue from the Grossology exhibit, and picking her nose right there in my otherwise adorable photo.

Still think Vegas is merely a vat of tastelessness in the desert? We accept your apology; now good day.

I said good day, sir!

The Dangers of YouTube

This last week I was asked to speak to the youth of our stake on the subject of maintaining righteous standards in their choices of entertainment. (In the LDS Church, a “stake” is a grouping of several “wards.” A “ward” is a “congregation.” “Youth” is ages 12 to 18 years old. And “righteous standards” is entertainment that is not salacious, graphic, or starring Mickey Rourke.) You can click here for more information. (On the LDS Church, I mean. I won’t pretend to know where to click to find information on Mickey Rourke. But you could probably Google the word “infection” and find him somewhere in there.)

Another bishop in the stake spoke with me, and in an effort to hold the youth’s attention and earn some street cred, we made a short video for YouTube. (It held their attention; but let's be honest, there was never a chance for any “street cred.”)

We showed the YouTube video during the program and set it up as “you never know what kind of outrageous, shocking video you could come across on the Interwebs…”

CLICK HERE TO WATCH!

The Best 14 Years

Due to the state of the economy, the Craig household is on a hiring freeze. We are not currently accepting any new bids for large projects right now. So our anniversary gifts this year were quaint. And that was actually quite fine with us. The backpacking trek across Europe? Maybe next year. Scuba diving in the Caymans? Perhaps on my 40^th birthday. A sleek, black Audi A8? How embarrassingly cliché for you.

For me, Katie hunted through her favorite little used bookstore and discovered this inimitable gem: 365 Love Poems. My favorite? Marriage by Samuel Rogers.

Then before all they stand – the holy vow

And ring of gold, no fond illusions now,

Bind he as his. Across the threshold led,

And every tear kissed off as soon as shed,

His house she enters – there be a light,

Shining within, when all without is night;

A guardian angel o’er his life presiding,

Doubling his pleasures and his cares dividing,

Winning him back when mingling in the throng,

Back from a world we love, alas! too long,

To fireside happiness, to hours of ease,

Blest with that charm, the certainty to please.

How oft her eyes read his; her gentle mind

To all his wishes, all his thoughts inclined;

Still subject – ever on the watch to borrow

Mirth of his mirth and sorrow of his sorrow!

The soul of music slumbers in the shell,

Till waked and kindled by the master’s spell,

And feeling hearts – touch them but rightly – pour

A thousand melodies unheard before!

And for her, I hunted through some garage-banished boxes of photographs labeled Things to Never Put on Display, threw them in with some digital ones we had on file and presented her with these buried treasures. Which I now share with you, if you'll indulge me.

Narcolepszzzzzz....

This is my two-year old son, Tanner. The child has the uncanny ability to fall asleep anywhere. These photos represent only a fraction of the times and places he has unsuspectingly slipped off into dreamland.




I cannot fathom having a conscience so peaceful, so serene, as to be able to lay my head down at any moment and nod off without a care in the world. A true demonstration in omni-slumber.



His unparalleled ability to publicly snooze is matched only by his intolerance for clothing. Many are the mornings when Katie has dressed him in jeans and a long-sleeve shirt, only to find him seconds later downstairs sporting shorts, and maybe – MAYBE – a cape, as he dons the persona of the superhero de jour. So no, it’s not uncommon to find him half-nude and unconscious around the house – turning our home into some sort of frat house.



But here is what you have to admire. The man’s dedication. In this video clip you'll take note that while sleep may be his kryptonite, he will fend it off; and, with extraordinary determination, finish what he’s started.

A Dozen Years Ago or So

Twelve years ago today, in one of the most brilliant and intricate sting operations ever pulled off in modern history, I tricked Katie Fillmore into marrying me. Since that day she has tricked me a number of times. Her favorite is this thing she does when she’s driving the van on a road trip, where she tilts her head so I can’t the left side of her face, and then makes it look like she’s totally and completely asleep at the wheel, because I can’t see her left eye, which is actually wide open, keeping our family safe from flying off the road into a tree, off a cliff, or into a stranded motorist. I can’t say I like this trick, but turnabout’s fair play, I suppose.

Like most folks born after 1960, we do in fact have a Wedding Video. And we love to watch it. Sure the quality is fading, along with my insistence that there is something wrong with the video because my hair was never that big, but it is one of the happiest videos you’ll ever see. You can’t help but smile when you watch it. It was really a great day.

But in addition to our Wedding Video, we happen to have an Engagement Video. It’s not much. Technically, we were never supposed to have one. And yes, I am going to tell the story. And yes, it’s long. And yes, it’s lovely.

It was April 1995. Provo, Utah. The days were a warmish spring, with the nights still quite cool. TLC was warning us not to chase waterfalls and Bryan Adams was demanding to know if we’d ever really – really, really ever loved a woman.

At this point I had known for several months that I wanted to marry Katie. (So yes, Mr. Adams, I believe I have really really loved a woman.) By April, it felt like everything in the universe was coming to a head, with planets aligning, and leading up to a very specific time and place to get engaged.

I knew Katie wanted me to meet her family before we got any more serious. And her family was coming out to Utah for the graduation ceremonies of two of Katie’s older sisters, held Thursday, April 27th. Planet 1 aligned. Katie had torn her ACL in her knee and would be heading back to Kentucky with her family (post-graduation ceremonies) for surgery. They would be leaving the morning of Saturday, April 29th. Planet 2 aligned. This meant I had a window of Friday, April 28th, to ask Katie to marry me.

Katie’s cousin happened to be a jeweler, so I visited him the week prior to Katie’s family coming, and we selected The Engagement Ring. He had designed it and he was going to craft it and have it ready for me on Friday morning so I could propose Friday night. Except that when I called on Thursday to make sure he was ready, he said, “Oh, I messed up on it. I won’t have it ready until Monday.” I could tell he was concerned. So I kindly answered back, “Well, Jack-face, if you can’t have it ready tomorrow, don’t bust yer hump to have it ready Monday. She’s leaving Saturday.” And he responded, “Sorry.”

Oh, the humanity! My life was poop. Nothing left to do now but watch Katie leave for Kentucky, unengaged and ready to fall in love with some toothless, shoeless, slack-jawed yokel with an annual crop of tobacco big enough to shake a beer keg at. I was depressed.

Friday arrived, and it was a busy day. I was packing to move apartments and Katie was packing to go home for surgery. We didn’t see each other much, and the only highlight of the day was that a big group of us friends decided to get together for dinner at The Underground that night. A kind of End of Semester send off before summer, when everyone would be going different directions for a while. A friend of ours, Mike, played guitar at The Underground, and we were all going to hang out, eat, and take a listen.

We were supposed to be meeting in about an hour, and I called Katie to let her know I was going to come pick her up in a bit. I sat on the couch to pack my last box of junk when the phone rang. It was Katie’s cousin/my jeweler. “Hey, your ring is ready.” “Is this some sick joke?” “It’s not a joke. I canceled all my other appointments for the day and finished the ring.” “You’re a beautiful man.” “Yes, well, I just left it with Katie’s mom, so you can pick it up from her.” “Uhm…you left it with WHO?”

With only a few minutes to throw everything together, I ran over to Katie’s grandpa’s house to find my future mother-in-law and, in exchange for a ring, I explained to her that I was going to ask her daughter to marry me that night. Fortunately for me, my mother-in-law was ecstatic and oohed and aahed at the ring with me, securing her place in the Best Mother In Law Hall of Fame.

The rest of this story is told in fast-framed, cartoonish fasion.

I ran back to my apartment and handed the ring to my good friend, Lincoln. In one long sentence I explained to him that I was going to propose to Katie at The Underground, during our little Have a Great Summer party, that I needed him to go buy roses for Katie and hand them off to our good friend Lisa to bring out to Katie right after I propose, that I needed him to talk to Mike about playing U2’s All I Want Is You while I propose, and that at some point, after I arrived, I needed him to slip the ring back to me when Katie wasn’t looking. He was completely on board and very excited for me.

Then, in maintaining cartoonish, frantic energy, we ran into each other three times and then ran to our different destinations. Me, to pick up Katie, and Lincoln, to The Underground to set everything up.

When I ran into Katie’s apartment to pick her up, I realized I needed to CALM DOWN. But it was too late. She came down the stairs, gave me a hug, then stepped back and said, “What’s going on? You’re shaking.” “Oh. Huh. Must be the heroin.” “Oh, YOU (small chuckle).” I covered that one pretty well.

We got in the car and I took the longest route possible to get to The Underground. I actually stopped at the video store on the way. Forrest Gump had just been released on video that week. And at that moment, my life really was like a box of chocolates. It spoke to me.

Having stalled as long as I could, we finally made our way over to the restaurant. I could only hope that Lincoln had set everything up, and as soon as we walked through the doors I knew everything was in place. I knew this because two of our friends who were supposed to be there that night but who also worked there, Lisa and Rebecca, had just gotten off their shifts, came running over to us. I mean, they hurdled tables and pushed paying customers out of the way to get to us, so excited were they. They stopped right in front of us and then Lisa, with her eyes wide open, started talking like the speed-talking Fed Ex Guy. “Yeah, we-just-got-off-our-shifts-but-we’re-going-to-stick-around, maybe-get-something-to-eat. Even-Chris-is-coming-over, you-know, just-to-casually-hang-out-and-stuff.” There was this wall of energy coming from the two of them and the hairs on my neck were standing straight up. I was hoping this was all coming across to Katie as casual as Lisa and Rebecca were trying to sell it. Somehow, Katie didn’t pick up on it. Not even when Lisa squeezed my hand and looked at me out of the side of her eye. If I didn’t propose to Katie soon, it was clear Lisa was going to do it for me.

I couldn’t even order anything to eat. My stomach was in knots. We had talked about marriage before, but I still felt like I was taking an anxiety bath. I suppose it’s because that is the moment when you say, “Yes, I will spend the rest of eternity with you.” Plus we were doing this in front of our friends and strangers.

We sat at the center table, right in front of where Mike was playing. Our good friends Chris and Lisa, who had gotten engaged less than two months before, sat right across from us, and so did our friend Rebecca. Many of our other dear friends, including my co-conspirator, Lincoln, were also there.

Lincoln and I managed to slip away for a private conversation (no, not in the men’s room). He handed over the ring and told me that as soon as I signaled him, he would signal Mike, and Mike would start playing U2’s All I Want Is You. He was going to stop in the middle of the song, Lisa would slip out to bring the roses, and I would drop to my knee and wet my pants.

I sat back down at the table and noticed the faces of several friends at the table. Some of them seemed more nervous than me. After what felt like a week I signaled Linc, and he signaled Mike. Mike started playing. Then, in the middle of the song, he stopped. Then I stood up and announced to the restaurant that I needed everyone’s attention to the center of the room. I knelt down and helped Katie stand up (she was still on crutches from tearing the ligament in her knee), and I actually said the words, “Katie, will you marry me?” She said yes – actually she screamed “Yes!” and then started crying. And it was really a very incredible, surreal moment….

And here it is on video. Mike, the guitar player, actually had his mom visiting. And she was so proud of her beatnik son, she actually brought a video camera to record him singing. Out of coincidence, we were getting engaged that night, and there she was to capture it all. Well, not all of it. She actually only swings the camera around enough to record some very key moments. But now they are immortalized. It wasn't until the next day, when Katie had left with her family and I was at dinner with Lincoln and Mike that Mike said, "If you want a copy of that video, just let me know." "What video?" "My mom recorded you guys getting engaged last night." Completely surprised, and quite grateful, I said, "Well frankly, it wasn't any of her business, but if you've got the video..."

If you watch closely, you’ll notice the following:

• Lisa, in the lobby, holding the roses that Lincoln has just brought for Katie.

• Lincoln conspiring with Mike on when to play what song.

• Our friend Chris is so nervous with the proposal, he actually covers his face in case Katie says ‘no.’

• Katie saying yes.

• Me looking like an idiot.

• Lisa handing over the roses.

• And finally, some very bad editing skills, as this was my first time using this editing software.

Happy Anniversary to Us!