Better Late Than Never

I'm a bit late to the blog party - well beyond fashionably - but I'm glad to join yet another of the trends I swore off for the longest time.  I remember leaving on my mission from a world of typewriters and stone age PCs and coming home two years later to cell phones, email, and a host of other useless, time wasting gadgets that I promised I would never get.  I mean, I made it 21 years without a cell phone and my life had been pretty good up to that point...why change?  It's actually funny to think how things have changed since those days, as I sit here in my hotel room reading a book on my iPad, listening to music on my iPhone, creating a blog on my laptop.  My 21-year-old self wouldn't believe it.  Nonetheless, here I am, a few lines in to my first blog post, a twinge of guilt less on my shoulders as I've finally begun what I've felt compelled to do for quite some time now.  I was speaking with a friend recently who shared a story his Mission President related to him some time ago about the "Hand of God" journal he updated on a regular basis.  The purpose, of course, was to keep a record of the many times he saw the Hand of God throughout his life and be able to pass this record to his posterity to teach and inspire them.  This blog will likely take on a slightly broader spectrum of events, but I'm starting it with the hope that it will inspire at least one person - the writer himself - to take a slightly extroverted approach to an otherwise introspective life, and to share some of the beauty and blessings I see with the people I care about most.

That said, let's get on to Day 1, the first day of my blogging life.  Well, kind of Day 0, since I'm actually starting with yesterday.  One of the things I was "inspired" to do with this blog is to take a picture each day of something that impresses or impacts me in some way and share a few thoughts about how the image relates to life.  Yesterday, I was driving through the middle of nowhere - I make a habit of that in my job - and heading to one of the only parts of California I haven't visited before, San Luis Obispo.  As I drove across the hilly, stunning terrain, my thoughts turned to a few recent conversations I had with members of my family.  I took Gwen and Zach to visit my parents a couple weekends ago and then left them there for a week, returning Friday to pick them up.  One of the main topics of conversation throughout the weekend was the potential move Emily and Pooch and their family are considering to the San Jose area, and how that move might impact Mom and Dad's retirement plans.  Now, let me first caveat what I'm about to say: I used to swear up and down that I would NEVER move to California.  In fact, the first few years I was married to Jeri, I really had nothing positive to say about the place!  I've now lived here for 4 years and I don't ever want to leave.  The irony.  Anyway, back to the story.  I've had many discussions over the past few years with my parents about California and why I like it so much, but I always come away feeling like a centerfielder for the Cardinals who took less money to go play for the Cubs.  As I was enumerating the Top 10 Reasons to Move to California, Rebecca commented that she could never live there because of the image associated with the state.  As soon as she said the word "IMAGE," my thoughts turned to all of the "images" I have seen on my travels through California over the past few years.  I know the real California.  I've driven the desert terrain from El Centro to San Diego.  I've made the trek down Highway 99 from Sacramento to Bakersfield to LA.  I've driven every mile of Interstate 5 from Tijuana to Oregon and I've braved the traffic during rush hour to visit the beautiful temple in Santa Monica.  I've seen Carrie Underwood at the Hollywood Bowl, watched the US Open in San Francisco, even teed it up at Pebble Beach.  I've admired the grandeur of the Redwoods, snowboarded (well, mostly fell down) at Big Bear, dined on the coast in Malibu, and marveled at Lake Tahoe.  I've meandered through the tiniest of ghost towns, filled up my gas tank where I never saw a single solitary person, and sweated through the hottest of drives from Las Vegas to Baker to Barstow and beyond.  I've seen the desolate deserts, the crystal blue lakes, the snow-covered mountains, the perfect rows of vineyards, the Golden Gate Bridge, and the cold Pacific Ocean.  And yes, I've seen the plastic faces, the fake tans, the bleached hair, and all the accoutrements that go along with them :)  But back to my drive through the middle of nowhere...as I drove along, I decided that my first picture would be for Rebecca.  This is the California I know.  The beautiful hills.  Miles of open roads.  Heavenly weather.  A strong Gospel presence.  A place for me to raise my unique and amazing children and to grow old with my beautiful - Californian - wife. 

I was listening to various songs from my phone today in the car and One Republic's song "Good Life" came on.  "When you're happy like a fool, let it take you over, when everything is out, you gotta take it in."  This is The Good Life.