Santa Claus Uneditted

I apologize for this not being a verse full of Christmas cheer,
But its the truth and it may instead fill you full of Christmas fear.
So hide your kids, hide your wife, we're gonna cut to the quick with a very sharp knife.

You know Dasher and Dancer and Comet and Cupid,
And I'm sure after sixty years of song you know Rudolph-the-Red-Noser,
and Donder and Blitzen, and all of those guys,
But do you recall, the fattest one of them all?

Yes we speak of our very own, Santa Clausen,
For our beloved Santa Claus is nothing other than a molester!
On the weekends they call him Uncle Fester.

Its a Hoax! Over are all the jokes,
Burn his fancy red coats, Its a Hoax, It tell ya',
An old fat man with a big beard and a big red sack! Are you guys out of your mind?!
For its not toys in that big red sack,
But its nothing other than little girls and little boys!

'Twas the night before Christmas, when Sant Claus came to my house
He took all of my children! and even my mouse.
I ran down the stairs all kinds of unawares,
Just to see their tiny fingers and toes
Sticking out of his bag as up the chimney he rose.
I dashed to the window, only to stare 'ere he drove out of sight. . .

Surprised? Yeah, me too.
But what's a man to do?
So I poured myself a cup of nog,
And then shouted at the top of my lungs "Woohoo!
All the presents are mine, let the Christmas bells chime! . . .
By about this time he'll be down in Vegas;
I heard he shaved his beard for a Fu Manchu.*



Merry Christmas and God Bless you everyone.



*spelt Foo Man Shoo in my original. 

I thought I lost this roll. I didn't. 

Rail Jam. 11th Annual event hosted by Sticks and Stones. Bring in some snow. Tell everybody about it. They come and go down it. 

Christa Badoni. The low light of the setting sun sifted through the autumn trees, fall colors all around. She had asked me to capture some photographs for her mission. I clicked away into the last moments of light. 

We went out to a Cabin in Kelly Canyon. The first snow of the season. Light and powdery like sugar. Snow balls were thrown. Good times were had. Foods were consumed. After the meal finished, the fondue began; we dipped into that pot, and we never came back out. 

Wedding? Why not. The squash soup was great. 

Thinking about starting up a new blog. I think I'm nearing readiness to write again, and write on a more specific topic. I've been cruising on the up escalator of my young life; i've about reached the top and its all stairs after this– many many stairs and I've got to make some decisions.

Social Entrepreneurship comes up often, and it always seems to make my spine tingle. I know its good when my spine tingles, and I try not to neglect.

I'd like to call it The Social Entrepreneur. Team write it. Till then, here's the latest on the topic.

Bornstein discusses the advances in our methods of affecting social change. He gets close to defining the Social Entrepreneur, comments on Ashoka, and makes the great observation that actions and decisions and models and change have progressed to come more from confederate more than centralized organizations. Our modern social inovations required to solve our social challenges demand inspiration from many different directions. 

Here's some views from the summit. Honestly, I was completely hash-whacked. I failed to eat enough, I failed to tally than one hour of sleep on the cramped ride over, I failed to move any speed greater than ridiculously slow; the only thing I succeeded at is getting to the top. And thats the only thing that matters. Especially when you've got views like this. 

Me and this guy (Scott Hurst)

 

Conquered this mountain. 

The Grand Teton

We climbed at the City of Rocks over conference weekend. We realized our weeklong dreams. Our climbing gear came in from Amazon midweek and we headed out friday afternoon. 

Recovered from the archives. Actually I finally got this black and white roll developed from before my bike tour. I finished this roll at my Tandem shoot. The rest was shot in color. 

Nikkormat FT 300mm 35mm Tmax100

We also limboed. The girl with reddish tint won. She was also the shortest. I didn't win; I was the tallest. 

We danced. Its called square but of course it was mostly circle. We smiled a lot. The man at the end of the post called. He called out orders, usually when people call out orders they are disliked, but everybody liked this guy for some reason; they called him the Caller. 

George's Grand Bike Tour de Northwest Part I

On Thursday the 26th of July, 2012, 6pm, I proceeded forth from my home in Rexburg on my Grand Bike Tour de Northwest. My man Morris road with me; he was dying to get out of his office on campus. He met me at Millhollow as I enjoyed the last of my quality fro-yo. He met me to offer gifts to aid me on my ride, a handle-bar mirror and a fuel canister, but he weaseled his way into riding with me out of town, past the butte; I''m sure he got paid for it. It was a pleasure to have his company.


Adventure, excitement, and ultra-extreme swashbuckling ensued. I give the following as a brief, somewhat dry, yet mostly clear synopsis. I road 30 miles the first night to Mud Lake, camped behind a small Catholic church. I put down between 40 and 80 miles the rest of the days. Friday I stayed the night on the lawn of an LDS building in Mackay; I successfully combated the evening sprinkler system.  Saturday I road hard, summiting Willow Creek pass on U.S. 93 at 7161 feet, before turning off road to cross over to U.S. 75 on Spars Canyon Road; I pedaled hard to reach Stanley just as the moon awakened. I enjoyed a fine pizza at Luce's, exited the institution, wandered down to the creek side and immediately fell asleep in a vacant lot behind a bush.

 Sunday I rested. I found hot springs, and then I found better hot springs. I washed and passed the night there. The hot springs are somewhat of the secret sort so I'll leave their location undisclosed. The rest is somewhat more of a blur. On Monday I cruised through a 60 mile stretch of intense down hill– all down hill– and fought the wind the whole time. I stayed the night at another hot spring by recommendation of my road angel Gary, and made friends with some kayakers, and camped with this Mark fellow from Ohio. Tuesday I made it all the way to Weiser, with a friendly wind much of the way. I stayed the night there with my aunt and uncle, Janette and Hal. Charming folks. I arrived after being made the upset of the town for not having a rear taillight and being stopped by the police. The informed the laws of Idaho require a front and rear taillight. I carried on and enjoyed my stay at a respectable residence.

Here I break for the day. The rest tomorrow.

Gary and his wife decided to give me a ride a few miles instead of allowing me to ride up hill on a remote primitive road behind their house. They were on the way to the dump. I sat in the back with their garbage. 

Aunt Janette and Uncle Hal.

View from the hot springs. Those are the legendary Sawtooth mountains in the background.

I came into the town of Stanley on the closing night of a music fest. As I emerged out of a tight canyon that had followed the Salmon River for some ways, the vast Stanley valley expanded before me and I beheld the beautiful sight of Stanley: a city twinkling on a small hill top, with the great Sawteeth roaring up beind it, radiating in soft moonlight.  The result of the music fest was that they were out of gas for the next couple of days. 

The Orval Hansen. I lingered longer after the LDS session at the hilltop meditation chapel, and participated in the protestant session. In attendance was Orval Hansen, The man who saved the Sawtoothes. 

Yes their mormon, and it's their reunion.

So I washed my clothes in the hot spring. All of them at once. I didn't mean for this photo to be so provocative . . .