Elijiahs Photo

Tristan - the good, the bad, and the WHAT THE...!?

So cute - Getting dad's gut!

Extreme closeup!

These randomly bad shots are cute on babies - not so much on adults...

Amber calls this one "Monkey-Boy"

See funny huh???

Sometimes so tired that he can't make it through the bottle and just lays there passed out. These are TREASURED (rare) moments where he's NOT flailing about!

Handsome happy baby boy

My brothers Blog- check it out

Go here:
http://coryanthumr.blogspot.com/

Ode to my hero

So, I was checking out da family blog today and found myself looking at this photo for quite a while. Isn't it a great pic!? I'm not saying that the subjects in the image are the impressive piece although Amber does indeed look like an absolute angel; I'm just amazed at the quality of the image, especially the timing of the shot. The funny thing is that this wasn't taken by the professional photographer we hired for the wedding. In fact, none of the many wedding day photos we have all over our house (and blog) came from the gal we hired. They all came from my pops. We hired a photographer in hopes that by so doing, my dad would be able to enjoy the event without having to worry about photography but in the end, he was true to his nature and somehow still captured some of the most endearing images in my possession.

My father truly is an amazing man and I'm not going to even come close to committing even a fraction of his talent to word but I wanted to take a moment to at least try. It is not my right to describe on this blog what this man went through as a child but I will say that I'm willing to bet that he endured more than most if not all the people you know. Instead of becoming a victim of his upbringing, this man instead decided to become the best he could be. When all his friends were drafted into the Vietnam war, he decided to VOLUNTEER because he felt it was the honorable thing to do. Thank God that his asthma prevented him from going because most of those friends that went perished in the conflict. He graduated college then started as a school teacher (English). Not long after, he moved on to being the editor of a local newspaper in Green River Wyoming where he won numerous photographic and editorial awards (did he study photography or journalism in college?). When social influences in Green River started going south, he decided to move his family to a better place and took on the editor position for the main newspaper in Cody, Wyoming where he won additional awards for his talents.

I remember when he was editor of the Cody Enterprise, our family had more money than ever before. In fact, one year, we had TWO Christmas trees, one upstairs and one in the basement. BOTH trees had oodles of presents beneath them and I remember being overwhelmed. Well, unbeknownst to us, there were political/corporate slime balls encroaching on the Cody Enterprise and my father, as an honorable and honest man, decided to step away from that venture in spite of the monetary success he was having.

Instead of going back to teaching or finding something related to the newspaper world (most people would stick with what they knew), he decided to start his own printing business. I'm not 100% clear on all the details but I think it started with one small printing press and a couple employees. He grew that business to satellite branches in Montana and neighboring towns in Wyoming. How did this man with no official training in printing start and grow a business from two employees and one tiny shop to numerous employees and several large facilities? The main store grew so much that my pops was able to bring in a revolutionary new technology in the form of a multi-million dollar press. This beast was so advanced that the city had to actually upgrade the power lines/transformers on the block to facilitate its needs.

Once again, the natural man stepped in and long story short, chased my father out of town, all to bring in a national printing chain that could produce 10 times the volume at a fraction of the quality. And so, this man that put in countless 16 hour days, sacrificed his health, precious time with family or personal pursuits, and gave his all to the community, was betrayed by his peers for the love of the all mighty dollar. What does he do? He sacrifices once again and agrees to move down to Pleasant Grove so that my mother can be closer to her grandkids. This was not an easy move folks - sure we're Mormon, but my father and I are Democrats and not your cookie-cutter-typical-utah-mormons. However, he knew how happy it would make my mother to be near her grandkids so he picked up the pieces of what he had and transplanted himself and my mother to Happy Valley.

At this point pops is in his 50s and there isn't a whole lot of demand for newspaper editors, English teachers, or traditional print-shop experts in the valley. So, does he retire? No, he puts on his hat at 8:00AM EVERY morning and gainfully seeks employment. It's not an easy task because as we all know, 50ish year old men are worthless in the job force because they don't fit the preferred employee specs (heavy sarcasm) so it takes him a while to find a new home but eventually he finds a role as an Interaction Designer (Human Factors) for one of the Valley's largest organizations. Human what you say? Yeah, no official training there but my pops has mad skills and literally can do anything.

So I've focused mostly on his professional achievements but I have to publically say that he is my hero in every regard. This man who came from a hellish childhood showed NOTHING but compassion and gentleness to us kids. He could fix almost anything on a car, quote Poe, Frost, or any number of Greek philosophers, tie a diamond hitch to secure paniards on a horse, build a barn (that I later burned down), write songs that bring you to tears, build and maintain a complex computer network, grow the biggest potatoes you've ever seen in the garden, heal the sick with the power of his faith, forgive the most heinous grievances, shoe a horse, write moving anti-gambling speeches for governmental lobbyists, photograph perfect shots of cowboys turned upside down by raging bulls, wrastle with a couple 20 year old boyz and still kick their butts, fall to tears when reading about world atrocities, come to the aid of a son that couldn't help himself, endure betrayal from everyone around him yet still get up each morning and march forward, and on, and on, and on...

If pops reads this he is going to be terribly uncomfortable because his greatest characteristic is the humility he maintains in spite of his skills, talents, and accomplishments. So many others with half the skills and talents become arrogant but not my dad. Pops, you ARE my hero and I love you so very much.

Perfect- How do we implement???? :)

Had to post this forward...pretty good idea to me...
Subject: The Birk Economic Recovery Plan
Hi Pals,
I'm against the $85,000,000,000.00 bailout of AIG.
Instead, I'm in favor of giving $85,000,000,000 to America in a We Deserve It Dividend.
To make the math simple, let's assume there are 200,000,000 bonafide U.S. Citi zens 18+.
Our population is about 301,000,000 +/- counting every man, woman and child. So 200,000,000 might be a fair stab at adults 18 and up..
So divide 200 million adults 18+ into $85 billion that equals $425,000.00.
My plan is to give $425,000 to every person 18+ as a We Deserve It Dividend.
Of course, it would NOT be tax free.
So let's assume a tax rate of 30%.
Every individual 18+ has to pay $127,500.00 in taxes.
That sends $25,500,000,000 right back to Uncle Sam.
But it means that every adult 18+ has $297,500.00 in their pocket.
A husband and wife has $595,000.00.
What would you do with $297,500.00 to $595,000.00 in your family?
Pay off your mortgage - housing crisis solved.
Repay college loans - what a great boost to new grads
Put away money for college - it'll be there
Save in a bank - create money to loan to entrepreneurs.
Buy a new car - create jobs
Inves t in t he market - capital drives growth
Pay for your parent's medical insurance - health care improves
Enable Deadbeat Dads to come clean - or else
Remember this is for every adult U S Citizen 18+ including the folks who lost their jobs at Lehman Brothers and every other company that is cutting back. And of course, for those serving in our Armed Forces.
If we're going to re-distribute wealth let's really do it...instead of trickling out a puny $1000.00 ( "vote buy" ) economic incentive that is being proposed
by one of our candidates for President.
If we're going to do an $85 billion bailout, let's bail out every adult U S Citizen 18+!
As for AIG - liquidate it.
Sell off its parts.
Let American General go back to being American General.
Sell off the real estate.
Let the private sector bargain hunters cut it up and clean it up.
Here's my rationale. We deserve it and AIG doesn't.
Sure it's a crazy idea that can "never work."
But can you imagine the Coast-To-Coast Block Party!
How do you spell Economic Boom?
I trust my fellow adult Americans to know how to use the $85 Billion
We Deserve It Dividend more than I do the geniuses at AIG or in Washington DC .
And remember, The Birk plan only really costs $59.5 Billion because $25.5 Billion is returned instantly in taxes to Uncle Sam.
Ahhh...I feel so much better getting that off my chest.

Kindest personal regards,
Birk

T. J. Birkenmeier, A Creative Guy & Citizen of the Republic

Worst Weekend Yet

Jonathan and I are both sick.
The weekend was the worst weekend. You know when one of the parental folk is sick the other can pick up the slack? Well when both are ill, its a lesser of two evils who takes the cake and runs with it. The house was destroyed by 3 six year olds on Saturday and while I normally clean that day, I decided to do it on Sunday instead. Sunday arrived and Jonathan and I were even worse. We both survived but barely. The house is still standing but I dont believe Ive ever seen it in its current state. Tristan was up at 1:30am for a diaper change which was unusual, and he was fussy....I finally got him down an hour later for him to be up again - this time for good at 4:08am. I am close to loosing my marbles and have to take a day trip to LA tomorrow to interview some folks. Fun fun.

Also I am never returning to Walmart again. More on that another time.

The Invitation.....

Honey, You will get this I think- LOL....I found this poem entitled : The Invitation
by Oriah Mountain Dreamer: Its a beautiful thought/poem/ and something that is worth believing...as such I had to post, and include one of my fav wedding photos:

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain!I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it, or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul; if you can be faithlessand therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see beauty even when it's not pretty, every day,and if you can source your own life from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, “Yes!”

It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up, after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done to feed the children.

It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you, from the inside, when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.

by
Oriah Mountain Dreamer

********Message from Oriah Mountain Dreamer


In the spring of 1994 I went to a party-an ordinary party-and I made an effort, a real effort, to be sociable. I asked and answered the usual questions: What do you do for a living? How do you know the host? Where did you study? Where do you live? And I came home with the familiar hollow feeling of having gone through the motions. So, I sat down and did what I often do to sort out what is going on--I wrote.

Using the format of a writing exercise that had been given to me by poet David Whyte I wrote about the party conversations--what really did not interest me and what I really did want to know about others, about myself.

I went to the centre of the ache for something more between myself and the world and the prose-poem, “The Invitation”, poured onto the page.

A week later I included the piece in a newsletter I was sending to eight hundred students who had, over the previous ten years, come to workshops I had facilitated on spirituality, sexuality and creativity. I sent it exactly as it had been written that night. I didn't think much about it. I'd shared many pieces of writing with folks on my mailing list over the years, often hearing back from those who felt a particular piece spoke to them.

But this time, something different happened. People started copying and sharing “The Invitation” and I began hearing from hundreds of people I didn't know. A woman wrote from New Zealand where the piece had been read at a large spiritual gathering. A man in the States wrote of reading the piece at the funeral of a dear friend who had died of AIDS. Individuals as far away as Romania, Iceland, Greenland and South Africa wrote that someone had sent them“The Invitation” on e-mail, handed it out at a wedding or read it aloud at workshop or conference. The piece seemed to have a life of its own.

It was Joe Durepos, a literary agent in Chicago who had contacted me to ask permission for the piece to be used in Jean Houston's book, “A Passion for the Possible”, who suggested that I consider writing a book based on “The Invitation.” I started writing and Joe sold the first few chapters to Harper San Francisco.

The prose-poem had touched others with a voice that cut through to what really matters. I didn't want the book to be a watered-down version of the original piece or a heady analysis of its heart-felt sense of urgency. I wanted the book to be as raw and as real as the prose-poem, to offer the receptive reader a chance to actually go to the places mapped out by “The Invitation” To fulfill this promise I had to go to those places myself.

I went to a cabin owned by some friends and started writing, using each segment of the original piece as a doorway into deeper places-the longing, the joy, the sorrow, the fear- reflecting with ruthless honesty on the meaning and struggles of a human life. I wrote what I need to remember, what I need to hear again and again: that life is full of beauty and pain; that the world will break your heart and heal it, over and over, if you let it, and that letting it do both is the only way to live fully; that we are not alone but deeply connected to that which create, and sustains all life.

Aided by Harper San Francisco editor Karen Levine I distilled the stories down to their essence and offered meditations at the conclusion of each chapter, meditations that had helped me walk through the doorways “The Invitation” had opened.

Life is hard. And life is wonderful. “The Invitation” is about finding what we need-the inspiration, the intimacy, the courage and the commitment to live fully, every day.