Remembering JS-Matt

I want to thank everyone who was able to make it to my recital. It turned out to be a really good show and I had a blast putting it on. Fortunately, some good performing opportunities have come up because of it, so I'll try to keep you posted on when and where I'm playing.

If you haven't heard, the company that I have been teaching trumpet lessons at for the past four years is officially out of business. It came out of nowhere and now there are nearly 70 music teachers looking for new places to teach from. I'm working on getting a place in the northern end of Utah County in an attempt to keep all my students.

The hardest part about this situation is that there seems to be some foul play on the part of The Music School's investors and parent company, Sentry Financial. For those of you who live in Utah, you'll being seeing some things about them on the news over the next few days. An investigation is now underway about the legality of closing the school with such short notice without reimbursing students for lessons they won't be getting and withholding payment from all employees for the entire month of September. I hope some of my close friends don't get buried in this whole mess.

With this forced career change looming, the downtrodden world economy, natural disasters increasing in quantity and apparent intensity, I can't help but think of the words of the Savior to His apostles regarding the days before His Second Coming. It's nice to know that the answer to ALL of life's problems and trials is simply to obey the commandments.

COME TO THE SHOW!

The Last Little Piggy Cried, "Wee wee wee."

So...yeah. I have two kids. It's fun to watch them as they grow and learn more about their world. Everyday is a wonderful day with them, but some days are just better than others. You wanna know why?

Tonight, Mommy and Maya were watching Caden while he was in the bathtub. Maya was getting a kick out of everything that her older brother was doing. He would make a face, she would laugh. He would splash, she would laugh. He would say, "Maya, Maya, Maya, Maya," and she would laugh. They were all having a great time; even Mommy, who was just enjoying watching her kids.

It was then that Caden arose to his feet, placed his hands on his hips, leaned back and shouted, "Ready. Set. Go. Oshikko!" Oshikko is the Japanese word for peepee. After his exclamation, Caden went oshikko right there in the tub. Can you picture that? A two-year old boy, with a smile on his face and his hands on his hips like Peter Pan, peeing in the tub. We were so proud.

So you see, everyday is special, but there are some days that just mean more.

"Ephraim Hanks Rocks"

In celebration of Pioneer Day, I have posted my favorite story from the trek to Utah. It's not a story from the original pioneers, who came into the Salt Lake Valley on July 24, 1847, but from the members of the Martin and Willie handcart companies who made the journey on foot while pulling handcarts in late 1856.

(from James E. Faust, “Obedience: The Path to Freedom,” Ensign, May 1999, 45)

Ephraim Hanks is a remarkable example of a young man’s obedience to spiritual promptings. In the fall of 1856, after he had gone to bed, he heard a voice say to him, “The handcart people are in trouble and you are wanted; will you go and help them?” Without any hesitation he answered, “Yes, I will go if I am called.”

He rode quickly from Draper to Salt Lake City. As he arrived he heard the call for volunteers to help the last handcart companies come into the valley. Eph jumped up and said, “I am ready now!” He was as good as his word, leaving at once and alone.

A terrific storm broke as he took his wagon eastward over the mountains. It lasted three days, and the snow was so deep that it was impossible to move the wagons through it. So Eph decided he would go on horseback. He took two horses, one to ride and one to pack, and picked his way carefully through the snow to the mountains. Dusk came as he made his lonely camp at South Pass. As he was about to lie down he thought about the hungry Saints and instinctively asked the Lord to send him a buffalo. As he opened his eyes at the end of his prayer, he was startled at the sight of a buffalo standing barely 50 yards away. He took aim, and one shot sent the animal rolling down into the hollow where he was encamped.

Early next morning, he took the two horses and the buffalo meat and reached Ice Springs Bench. There he shot another buffalo, even though it was rare to find buffalo in this area this late in the season. After he had cut the meat into long strips, he loaded up his horses and resumed his journey. And now I quote from Eph’s own narrative:

“I think the sun was about an hour high in the west when I spied something in the distance that looked like a black streak in the snow. As I got near to it, I perceived it moved; then I was satisfied that this was the long looked for handcart company, led by Captain Edward Martin. … When they saw me coming, they hailed me with joy inexpressible, and when they further beheld the supply of fresh meat I brought into camp, their gratitude knew no bounds. Flocking around me, one would say, ‘Oh, please, give me a small piece of meat;’ another would exclaim, ‘My poor children are starving, do give me a little;’ and children with tears in their eyes would call out, ‘Give me some, give me some.’ … Five minutes later both my horses had been released of their extra burden—the meat was all gone, and the next few hours found the people in camp busily engaged in cooking and eating it, with thankful hearts.”

Certainly Ephraim Hanks’s obedience to spiritual promptings led him to become a vanguard hero as he forged ahead alone through that devastating winter weather to preserve many pioneer lives. Because he listened to the whisperings of the Spirit and obeyed the counsel of the Brethren, Eph became a notable liberating force in the lives of those desperate, struggling pioneers.

Same kids, different medium

The Family: An Update to Anyone Who'll Read

I feel it best to put up a good, old-fashioned update this time around.

I recently put up a picture of my two children, Caden Matthew and Maya. As you can clearly see, they are adorable. Lucky for everyone, they look more like their mother than their father.

Caden is high energy and full of fun all the time. He loves being outside riding his tricycle, running with his friends, and playing in the kiddie pool. He speaks both Japanese and English and has even learned how to distinguish when to use which (well, most of the time). His favorite things are cars, pizza, balls, shrimp, and giving Mommy hugs for no good reason. If you want to know how old he is, simply ask him ("I'm two.")

Maya has only been around since January, but she already has the program figured out. If she wants something, she cries "like a witch being boiled in oil" (if you can tell me where this quote came from you get extra points) until she gets it (and she always gets it). If she wants to be held, all she has to do is smile and one or more of us (including the boy) will rush to her. She doesn't really need to ask for kisses. With her cheeks, she gets them all the time.

Ai is somehow managing to run the household on four hours of sleep or less a night. She is able to make meals for everyone; read books, watch movies, and play outside with Caden; attend to the needs of Maya (see above); keep the house clean; make her husband feel like she doesn't think that she made a mistake when she married him; and keep herself looking beautiful. She is also working on the Enrichment Committee in our church, which is designed to help the women in the church learn different skills and be involved in a whole slew of interest groups.

I'm still at BYU studying Humanities. I hope to be done by this December. As for what I will do once I finish, that remains a mystery. For now, I'm just focusing on making sure I get done. I still teach the trumpet at The Music School, and am enjoying an increasing amount of opportunities to play in different ensembles and bands around town.

If you actually read this far down, will you please enter a comment telling me your favorite recent movie. Thanks.

The kids.

An Easter Proposal

A carton of eggs: $1.78
Easter-egg dye: $5.00
A box of crayons (since you can't buy just a white crayon): $0.80
Convincing your girlfriend to marry you...even though you are a broke cheerleader:




Priceless.

How To Throw a Birthday Party for a 2-year Old

BY DAVE BARRY

(This classic Dave Barry column was originally published April 21, 2002, in the Miami Herald.)

TODAY'S PARENTING TOPIC IS: Planning a birthday party for your two-year-old child.

The first thing you must decide, when planning a birthday party for a two-year-old, is: Should you invite the two-year-old? Because a child that age can put a real damper on a party. And probably your child doesn't really understand that he or she is turning two. One of the best things about small children is that they have no clue how time works. My two-year-old daughter believes that everything that has ever happened, including her birth and the formation of the solar system, occurred ``yesterday.''

I have a friend named Helene who made excellent use of this phenomenon when her children were small. If they wanted to do something that, for whatever reason, they couldn't do, Helene, rather than argue, would tell them they could do it on ''Tuesday.'' If her kids wanted to go swimming, and it was January, Helene would say: ''We'll go swimming on Tuesday!'' And they were satisfied, because they had a definite answer, even though it actually had no meaning. (Airport flight-information monitors are based on the same principle.)

Unfortunately, as people grow older, they come to understand the concept of time, unless they are my wife. (Just kidding!) (Not really!) But most two-year-olds have no idea what ''two years old'' means, and would not notice if you held their birthday party after they went to bed.

Another low-stress option is to wait until your child is invited to some OTHER two-year-old's birthday party, and when you get there, tell your child that the party is actually for him or her. (''Look, Jason! Your name is written right here on the cake! L-I-S-A!'')

Of course, the foregoing suggestions are intended in a purely humorous vein. (Not really!) Unless you are a Bad Parent, you must throw a birthday party for your two-year-old, and you must invite other two-year-olds, and THEY MUST HAVE FUN, even if they don't want to. This is why so many birthday parties feature rental clowns, even though few things are more terrifying to small children than a clown at close range. Stephen King based an entire novel on this concept.

Another fun thing that two-year-olds do not enjoy is organized activities. Most two-year-olds are happiest when they are free to wander around in a non-organized way. So it can be quite a chore to herd a group of them together for organized birthday fun. But you must do this, or the terrorists will have won.

When our daughter turned two, we had a big party at our house. That was over a month ago, and we're still finding cake frosting in unexpected places. Our house was filled with two-year-olds, running, falling, yelling, crying, pooping, etc., each with at least one adult in pursuit, trying to organize the child. I honestly didn't know who most of these children were, or how they found out about the party. Maybe the Internet. All I know is, the organized activity we had for them was: art. Yes! We invited small children to our house and DELIBERATELY GAVE THEM PAINT.

I believe the reason we did this is that our brains had been turned into cole slaw by the bouncy castle. A bouncy castle is a big rubber inflatable thing that you can rent for birthday parties, weddings, congressional hearings, etc. The idea is that children can climb inside and bounce around and have a lot of fun, unless they find the bouncy castle to be even more terrifying than the rental clown.

My daughter LOVED the bouncy castle. That was the good news. The bad news was, the rental company set it up at 8 a.m., six hours before the party started. Once my daughter realized there was a bouncy castle in her yard, she had to be inside it, bouncing, at all times, and she felt very strongly that there had to be a parent in there bouncing with her. So by the time the guests started arriving, my wife and I had spent about three hours apiece bouncing our IQs down into the low teens, which is why we thought it would be fun to give art supplies to two-year-olds. I'm surprised we didn't let them drive the car.

Of course, we also gave them cake, because this is mandatory at birthday parties, even though historically there is no known case of any two-year-old ever actually eating so much as a single molecule of birthday cake. In fact, as far as I can tell, two-year-olds never eat ANYTHING. I think they nourish themselves via some kind of photosynthesis-like process that involves the direct absorption of Play-Doh.

In conclusion, holding a birthday party for two-year-olds is both fun and easy. All you have to do is follow a few simple steps! I will cover these on Tuesday.

Thoughts on mourning and comfort.

In my church we spend a great deal of time studying the scriptures. Along with the Bible, we have other scriptures that we believe contain the experiences and teachings of prophets who were called of God. One of our scriptures is called, The Book of Mormon, which is a record of God's people on the American continent.
One of the prophets from the Book of Mormon is named, Alma. He taught his people who were desirous to join God's true church that the requirements included being "willing to mourn with those that mourn; yea, and comfort those that stand in need of comfort." I've thought at length what that really means and have come to the conclusion that I have no clue.
A good friend of mine is now facing the loss of a loved one. To make matters more difficult, he lost someone who has always been a hero of his. How do I, as his friend, appropriately mourn and comfort him?
We believe that there is a glorious life after death, and that all will have the opportunity of hearing the true gospel and being resurrected like Jesus Christ was. We also believe that through a life a service, sacrifice, and obedience, family relationships can be preserved for all eternity. This knowledge is comforting to anyone who has ever lost someone special to them, and I know that my friend believes in this sweet promise from God. But the hard part is dealing with death from now until then. After the loss of someone very important to me, I knew that he was in Heaven, I knew that he was happy, and I knew that I would be with him again. My problem was the thought of life, this life, without him in it. Perhaps, that's where pain comes from in death; not from wondering if that person is alright, but from wondering if we're going to be alright without them.

To my friend who may or may not stand in need of more comfort, my heart aches that you have to be without him for a time. All I can offer you is my personal conviction and testimony of the words of inspired prophets. I know the Savior suffered, died, and was resurrected. Because of that sacrifice, peace can be found right now and families can be together forever. I love and pray for you.

For My Mother

The Lanyard

The other day I was ricocheting slowly
off the blue walls of this room,
moving as if underwater from typewriter to piano,
from bookshelf to an envelope lying on the floor,
when I found myself in the L section of the dictionary
where my eyes fell upon the word lanyard.

No cookie nibbled by a French novelist
could send one into the past more suddenly—
a past where I sat at a workbench at a camp
by a deep Adirondack lake
learning how to braid long thin plastic strips
into a lanyard, a gift for my mother.

I had never seen anyone use a lanyard
or wear one, if that’s what you did with them,
but that did not keep me from crossing
strand over strand again and again
until I had made a boxy
red and white lanyard for my mother.

She gave me life and milk from her breasts,
and I gave her a lanyard.
She nursed me in many a sick room,
lifted spoons of medicine to my lips,
laid cold face-cloths on my forehead,
and then led me out into the airy light

and taught me to walk and swim,
and I, in turn, presented her with a lanyard.
Here are thousands of meals, she said,
and here is clothing and a good education.
And here is your lanyard, I replied,
which I made with a little help from a counselor.

Here is a breathing body and a beating heart,
strong legs, bones and teeth,
and two clear eyes to read the world, she whispered,
and here, I said, is the lanyard I made at camp.
And here, I wish to say to her now,
is a smaller gift—not the worn truth

that you can never repay your mother,
but the rueful admission that when she took
the two-tone lanyard from my hand,
I was as sure as a boy could be
that this useless, worthless thing I wove
out of boredom would be enough to make us even.

-Billy Collins

Once upon a time, there was a boy and his dragon...

I recently had cause to recall an experience from my mission. As a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I had the opportunity to go to Tokyo, Japan, to teach people about what we believe in. Missionaries are always in pairs: two men or two women, and are called a "companionship." This story is about one of my companions, Elder Cavallo.

LDS missionaries are given one day a week to take care of laundry, shopping and other personal things. One day, We went to the international market to buy a few things that you normally couldn't find in Japan. In the dairy section, Elder Cavallo found some cheese. Yes, cheese. Now, this wasn't ordinary cheese. The cheese came in these little, wax wheels. For 10 or 12 dollars he purchased an entire mesh sack of these cheese wheels, and, with the excitement of a post-menopausal woman at a taping of "Oprah," he skipped and sang and consumed those rounded cheeses all the way home.

The next morning, during the time that we were supposed to be studying the scriptures, I heard these strange shuffling noises. I looked over to investigate further and, to my surprise, Elder Cavallo had spent an obviously great amount of time molding the wax wheels, which until just recently contained his precious cheeses, into an intricate dragon. I would have gotten mad at him and told him to put the wax away and study, if it weren't for the fact that it was really a good dragon. Teeth and a furled eyebrow and everything.

I laughed and said, "What are you doing?" He realized what he had been doing and how foolish it was and replied, "I've made a dragon."
"I can see that you've made a dragon. Why have you made a dragon?"
"I didn't have anything else to do."
"What about studying?"
"Oh, ya."
"Well, if you're not going to study, whatever you do, do something spiritual."
"Okay."

I went back to my books, laughing hysterically in my mind, but not showing it on my face. Another half hour went by and it was time to talk about our plans for the day. I looked over to find Elder Cavallo had used his markers and other odds and ends around his desk to create a home for his dragon. Not only that, but he had also fashioned the dragon to fold its arms (claws) and kneel down.
"Elder Cavallo! What is this?" At this point, I was no longer able to hide my laughter.
"You told me to do something spiritual. So, I've created the Prayer Dragon!"
At the center of a surprisingly impressive desert scene was the Prayer Dragon: eyes closed, hands together with fingers interlocking, kneeling seiza-style, mouth open. Painted on the base were the words, "部屋を出るまえに..." Japanese for, "Ere you left your room this morning...," the opening line to the hymn, Did You Think To Pray?

The other companionship with whom we shared the apartment were immediately summoned and it was agreed that the Prayer Dragon would have a place above our doorway to remind us to pray before we left everyday.

The story continues. Our mission president decided to visit our apartment one day, just to make sure we weren't destroying the place. Mission presidents do this from time to time. As he left, his eye was drawn to our wax friend above the door. I think he was concerned that we perhaps were praying to the dragon, but we were quick to explain. Actually, we were quick to have Elder Cavallo explain. He didn't say anything out loud, but I'm sure he was thinking it: "that's a good dragon!"

Maya's Baby Blessing

Thanks to my dad for getting some great pictures of the family after Maya's baby blessing. Here are just a few of them.

This is Ai and her parents who came in from Japan for the occasion (okay, so they said that they came for a wedding, but let's be honest).

Here's the Blackhurst grandparents who came all the way from Sandy, Utah.

A Thought On Mastering Something

I have to thank my brother-in-law for this great quote.

“People who aim to master an art seem to say to themselves, “While I’m still not too good at this, I’ll keep it to myself and not let anyone know what I’m doing. People will be more impressed if I practice in private and show myself only after I’ve developed true skill.” But anyone who says such things will never learn a single art well. For it is the man who mingles with the masters even as a beginner, uninhibited by ridicule or laughter, always pushing ahead coolly -- it is that man, even if he has no special gift from birth, who will not stumble along the way or become too casual in his attitude. As the years pass, such a man will surpass one with natural gifts but no dedication, in the end arriving at a higher level of performance, expanding his talent constantly, and gaining the high opinion of the public as an artist of matchless reputation."

Yoshida Kenkoo (吉田兼好) (ca. 1330)

Failed Vocab Quiz

One of the funnest parts of being a parent is watching my children grow and develop. With each passing day there is a new phrase or word that my boy spits out, which usually causes my wife and I to wonder where the devil he picked it up.
Along with a new-found vocabulary often comes mishaps that confuse the poor toddler. The other day, he was practicing his newest word band addition: the word, "kick." He repeated it over and over, "kick, kick, kick," until he, apparently, got it all twisted and backwards in his head. Suddenly, "kick, kick, kick," turned into, "ckki...ckukie...cukie." In his 21-month old mind, he now heard, "cookie, cookie, cookie."
For the next several minutes, my wife was rallied with petitions for animal crackers.

A True Story

My wife's younger sister and her husband are currently living in Japan with there two kids (and one on the way!). Brandon is there getting work experience before they come back to the States for an MBA.
Recently, my almost 4-year-old nephew, Tyler, had a conversation with his mom that went something like this:
"Mommy, Uncle Cameron doesn't have a big tummy, does he."
"No, Tyler, he doesn't."
"Ha! Daddy wins!"
True story.

Guilty or Not Guilty?

We were shopping at our local Walmart, picking up items for our small family and just enjoying our Saturday together (time together has become more and more scarce as the days move on), when I realized something about how I perceive the world.

We now use two carts in order to hold our kids and all the groceries. While Ai was looking at something down an aisle, I was watching the two carts and not really paying attention to the people around me. I was looking at some product in front of me when I was startled and frightened by a man's voice. I whipped around to see a middle-aged man staring at my girl and saying, "What a beautiful baby. Congratulations." The only thought in my mind was, "Get away from my daughter." After a moment of conversation with the man, my nerves calmed and I was able to relax, but I couldn't help feeling guilty for my initial reaction to this man's presence.

What a sad world this has become that I have to fear anyone who gets too close to my children. The news and events from the world and from our own backyard have certainly made me think differently.

Sorry for keeping you waiting.

After four weeks of waiting, we finally can introduce the world to our little one.
Maya is our healthy (and hungry) baby girl.
Less talk. More pictures.







After four weeks of waiting, we finally can introduce the world to our little one.
Maya is our healthy (and hungry) baby girl.
Less talk. More pictures.

"Have you ever tried getting out of your car through the exhaust pipe?" - Murphy Brown

After a month of bed-rest, Ai was ready to get that baby out! We had a duffel with clothes for the new arrival all prepared and in the trunk of our car. We even had gone to the hospital to get our names in the system. Now, all we had to do was wait.

On Sunday, January 6, we went to church like normal, but Ai's contractions were more intense than usual so she left early. After I had finished my responsibilities for the day (including a two-hour nap), we decided to go to the hospital just to see if Ai was getting any further along. After nearly two hours in the hospital, and Ai going from "one" to "three-and-a-half," the nurses informed us that we were going to be admitted and the doctor contacted to come and take care of the delivery. We were so excited. The day had finally come: January 6, 2008!

At 2 o'clock in the morning we were sent home.

We were totally crushed. I went to school and then to work just like normal the next day. I was sitting in the middle of my first trumpet lesson of the evening when my cell phone rang. Under normal circumstances I wouldn't even have paid any attention to it, but I think you can understand why I answered. On the other end of the line I spoke to a woman who said she was my wife, but she was panting and speaking in broken sentences mingled with grunts and screams. I decided to do what she grunted and before my student had his horn off his face I was on I-15 heading from American Fork to Provo. My older brother was called to come and watch Caden while my best friend was kind enough to rush Ai and her mom to the hospital (on a side note, he was a nervous wreck thinking that he might have to deliver a baby on the side of the road. This is the same man who nearly passed out at the sight of a dissected worm).

This is all happening around 6:00 p.m. By 9:55 we had a beautiful baby girl. Well, she's beautiful now. When we first saw her she was all covered in blood and this pasty white stuff. Once the nurses cleaned her off it was a lot easier to be sincere in saying she was beautiful.

Born two and a half weeks early, Maya Blackhurst weighs 7 pounds 13 ounces and is 19 inches long. Here's her Japanese name: 真椰. She and her mom are doing great! Dad is wearing his little, pink hospital bracelet like it's a medal.

Try to beat that FHE!

明けましておめでとうございます！

日本に「決意ある所に道あり」ということわざがあります。お正月といえば、新年の目標を作るという習慣がありますが、とてもいい慣行だと思います。今年達成したい目標を分かち合いたいと思います。
東京に住んでいたときに神権会で忘れられない経験がありました。レッスンをしてくれた兄弟が教義と聖約の聖句を読んでこう説明しました「聖霊に導かれたら従うほかありません。時々その導きは人をこらしめるために与えられるのです」と言ってレッスンを始めました。小さい紙とペンがクラス全員に配られその年に使った「教会の大官長の教え」を最初から最後まで読んだかどうかを書くように言われました。そして彼は机の下から３０冊ぐらいのテキストを出しました。その本が全部十分の一で作られて末日の主の預言者の言葉が書かれていると強く言いました。紙を集めて私たちが書いた答えを読み始めました。「いいえ」と書かれた紙がある度にテキストを1冊ずつゴミ箱に捨てました。２５人のメルキゼデク神権者の中から「はい」と書いたのはたった一人でした。その愛にあふれた兄弟が教えてくれたことは教会が出すテキストを読まないことは十分の一を無駄にし、預言者の言葉を無視するのと同じだということでした。
今年ジョセフ・スミスの教えをレッスンの前に読むよう頑張りたいと思います。

A New Year's Resolution

When I was a missionary, I went to an Elders Quorum meeting for one of the English speaking wards in Tokyo. The teacher started off by sharing a scripture from the D&C which says that sometimes we have to reprove people "when moved upon by the Holy Ghost." He then began to express his love for the quorum members and let us know that he really was worried about offending someone through the lesson, but, because he felt moved by the Holy Ghost, he would proceed as he had planned.
He brought with him a stack of about thirty copies of that year's Teachings of the Presidents of the Church manual. He passed around small pieces of paper to everyone and asked us all to write on it whether we had honestly read every lesson. While we filled out our answers, he explained the process by which the manuals get into the hands of the members. He emphasized the point that we get our books for free, or for a very small price, because of faithful tithe payers, and how special it is to be able to study the words of the Lord's anointed servants in the Latter-days.
We all folded our papers and passed them back up to the front of the room. The teacher began to read each answer. "No. No. No. No..." and so on. Out of a quorum of about twenty-five Melchizedek Priesthood holders, one answered "yes." With every "no" the teacher dropped a copy of the manual in a nearby garbage can. We all got his point, but he once again reminded us of the sacrifices that accompany paying tithing and of the importance of listening to the prophet's voice. Each lesson we didn't read from the manual was like throwing sacred tithing money in the garbage and like ignoring the words of the prophet.
This year it is my goal to read each lesson from the manual before it is taught in church. It will be extra special to make that small effort because we will be studying the teachings of Joseph Smith. I hope it is not inappropriate to extend that challenge to you, as well.