Time to Teach

Ive decided.

Took long enough I suppose. A lot of dreams died along the way. There were the early days when I wanted to play for the Jazz. That career was dropped in favor of being an architect. Next on the dream job list was sports announcer. After that I wanted to be a journalist. The next thought was to be a physicist. Then a seminary teacher. Bob Costas' hair stylist. Statistician. Electrician. Football coach. Latex salesman. Caddie. Male prostitute. Accountant.

The list of possible careers ran lengthy indeed, but one path seemed to beckon me more than any other.

Teaching.

I like it. I like to present, lecture, mentor, instruct, anwer questions, and tell jokes. It's with that in mind that I reveal my newest dream job: I want to become a professor. No Mr. Hansen, CPA Hansen, Coach Hansen, or Brother Hansen for me -- Professor Hansen is the title I desire.

Why the dream of professorship? Why sign up for another four years of school? Well, after carefully examining various persons and their accompanying proffesions, I've found that the people with the best lives are professors. Consider the following examples of professors who live (or did live) the good life:

Professor #1 - Robert Langdon

The Da Vince Code star leads a life filled with danger, dames, and drama. A professor of symbology at Harvard, Lagndon solves international mysteries while wearing a tweed jacket, and plays water polo in his spare time.

Professor #2 - Severus Snape

Snape managed a double-agent life that would make James Bond envious. He lived in a castle, terrorized children, carried out secret missions, and mastered the art of self-defense.

Professor #3 - Henry Jones Jr, aka Indiana Jones

No life can match the standard of greatness set by Professor Jones. Indy's archeology classes are often interuppted by crusades for religious artifacts. He fights nazis and woos women in the process, and his dad is Sean Conrey. His fedora hat alone would make anyone's life better.

Behold, the elements that make life good: Crusades. Danger.Tweed jackets.  Double-crossings. Secret missions. Drama.Water polo.  Fedoras. Girls. And, of course, teaching.

If my life as a professor can be one-fourth as interesting as the lives of these revered examplars, I will have chosen the correct profession indeed. And if not, I'll still be happy, for I'll have achieved the first goal I ever had as a child. You see, long before I wanted to be an NBA star or a journalist or an architect, I wanted to be Indiana Jones.

Well, in some small, miniscule degree, here's my chance.

I, the Ingrate

September 19, 2009 was the day the dream died. I was there in the stadium, 25 rows from the field, viewing firsthand the castration unfold. Drive after drive, the Florida State Seminoles buried my hopes of a perfect BYU football season deeper into the ground. Following the loss, I was speechless for days.

I, the ingrate.

Am I foolish enough to forget that over the last three years BYU has posted back-to-back-to-back 10-win seasons, a feat that the Cougs hadn't accomplished in 25 years?

Do I not realize that BYU has been in the top-25 for 28 consecutive weeks, a streak good enough for sixth best in the country trailing only super-powers Florida, Ohio St, USC, Texas, and Oklahoma?

Am I so stupid as to take BYU's superhuman play at home for granted? The Cougs have won 22 of their last 24 home games, including at one point a record stretch of 18-straight wins. They haven't lost a home conference game since 2005 for crying out loud.

Since 2006 the Cougs have posted the sixth best record in all of college football, posting 32 wins against 7 losses and I am sad about one measly loss?

Shouldn't I be grateful that during the last three years I've been able to watch a group of the greatest BYU football players ever, including:

-BYU's number one tight end of all time (Dennis Pitta)

-their soon-to-be number one running back of all time (Harvey Unga)

-their undisputed number one receiver of all time (Austin Collie)

-their soon-to-be all time winningest qb, who doubles as their toughest qb of all time, who triples as their soon to be second all time leader in passing yards(Max Hall, he who hasn't missed a start in 32 games)

-five offensive lineman who didn't allow a sack until game 5 of 2008 or a holding penalty until the end of the 2008 season (Ray Feinga, Travis Bright, Matt Reynolds, Dallas Reynolds, David Oswald)

-the career sack leader in Mountain West Conference history (Jan Jorgensen)

Indeed, I lack gratitude. Forgive me, BYU football gods, for my foolery in disappointment.

It has been a privilege to follow your team these last few years.

Brooke's Blog

What to give her?...

24 months have passed since the crooked-toothed, balding accountant first laid eyes on the glistening red-headed lover. What a two year span it's been. I'd wager that during that time she and I probably communicated every day; not even physical injury could impede us (tonsil/wisdom teeth removal for her; earaches for me). Of course, I never thought this day would really come. I knew she had to change her name to Sister Deem sometime, but it crept up quicker than I expected. Now, just days away from beginning a 1.5 year absence, I ask myself again, what can I give her? I really want this gift to be special, but I'm choking.

What can I give the girl who never complained about coming third in my life after a Cambodian, some elementary school kids, and a cat? How can I make up for a lack of dates, a lack of flowers, a lack of overall thoughtfulness? What sort of present can make up for all the thank-you's I missed over the years? For instance, I don't think I ever thanked her for coming to my flag-football games even when all I did was man the offensive line. Or for not complaining when I went home to see my family while her's was 17 hours away. Or for being the one with enough guts to get us on a date and get me to overcome my nerves and kiss her.

What's appropriate for the person who never rubbed it in my face despite trumping me in every competition we ever engaged in (ping-pong, juggling, mini-golf, racquetball, foosball, volleyball, and any runs greater than a mile long)? How can I express my thanks for her acceptance of my hairy feet, my hairy legs, my hairy everywhere except for the one spot it matters most?

What gift is good enough for your primary football receiver, your magic trick test subject, your blog editor, your crossword tutor, your masseuse, and your best friend?

What says thanks for not dumping me when I showed up five hours late for our trip to the zoo or for nearly missing our date to the movies because I staid after work to golf nine holes?

I'm thinking it's not easy dating me. How would you like a boyfriend who thinks getting a pizza and a slurpee qualifies as a high class date? Who else would accept that the most luxurious car she'll ever be driven in is a Ford Taurus? Who else would keep my spirits up by reminding me of the 98 I scored in Econ but never remind of the 56 I got in Tax?

This is a girl who nursed me back to health when I was sick, calmed me when stressed, and picked me up when I was down. A girl who latched onto a bush-league baseball game involving two die and poor play-by-play commentary. A girl who forgave a foolish break up and gave me a second chance.

What present can adequately say thank-you for always being willing to listen to my lame stories about Climps, fantasy football, Professor Doyle, the elementary kids, and any dumb news I've found online?

What can I buy that would say I love you because of our breakfast newspaper reads, the trips to the park(s), the summer drives down to West Valley for the weekend, the evenings spent watching Remington Steele?

She doesn't roll her eyes when I dream out loud of playing for the Jazz, authoring a best-seller, or coaching the Whitehorse High School football team. She even keeps from rolling them when rather than working towards those goals she sees me playing Halo or sleeping instead.

What's the right gift for the girl who allows me to have a life long affair with the BYU football team and never gets jealous? I never loved any of their squads as much as her, up to and including the dream team of 1996.

I don't know where I'd be without her, but I'm guessing I'd be a lot fatter (she kept me going to the gym), a lot nerdier(thanks for the style tips), and a lot less happy. She bettered my breakfasts, improved my evenings, made throwing the football a pleasure, taught me to cook, inspired me to share the gospel, transformed library trips into enjoyable events, and made me a better person in every way imaginable.

So tell me, what do you give the one person who made you happier than anyone else ever has? Who was there every time you needed her? Whose absence makes your life fill incomplete?

She's the most beautiful girl I've ever seen and my best friend to boot. So what gift could I ever give her? It just hit me.

This.

Disney on Ice

Greg Ostertag.

7 foot 2 inches.
280 pounds.

684 career turnovers.

1 accidental career three-pointer off a missed alley-oop.

Kidney donor.

And now that he's retired from basketball?

Hockey Superstar.

I know, I know - I'm writing it and I can hardly believe it. Greg Ostertag, he of fumbled rebound and foul-out fame, has utilized his time away from basketball to become a hockey standout. In a recent match in his Arizona-based league, he recorded a hat trick, scoring three goals in one game.

Yes, I'm talking about THAT Greg Ostertag. Yup, the same Greg who played for the Jazz. The same Greg who once got girl-slapped by Shaq. The same Greg who couldn't handle a pass from Stockton if the NBA finals depended on it (the NBA finals did depend on it at one point...).

You can see why 'Stockton to Ostertag' never caught on

If you ever watched a single Jazz game during 'Tag's career, then you will understand why the thought of him playing hockey is so confounding.How does a guy who can't run and dribble at the same time (or do them separately for that matter) manage to control a small puck with a stick while gliding his 280 lb frame on ice? (And since when did Wal-Mart start selling size 26 ice skates?)

Pondering this Ostertag-hockey duo has led me to consider other odd pairings that should have never happened. For example:

Salad and salad dressing:
The only reason people can stomach salad in the first place is because they convince themselves that it is healthy for them. So why neutralize the one benefit of salad by fattening it with dressing? Doesn't make sense (or taste good for that matter).

Swimming and speedos:
It's naked or bust as far as I'm concerned.

Aliens and Indiana Jones:
Three movies with religious tones, and then - BAM!! - aliens. This would be the number one worst pairing of all time if it weren't for...

Boys and boys:
With the ugliness of the male population, it can sometimes be a stretch for girls to find boys attractive. So how boys can find other boys attractive is just ... ugh.

Mexicans and driving:
There is a time and place for everything. Except this.

Male sports stars and crying:
Tennis man Roger Federer is the main culprit here. Sometimes an iron tear or two in sports can be accepted, but when we have tennis weaklings bawling on the ground after every match(win or lose)... This just shouldn't happen.

Me and tax calculations:
The grades I've earned in my tax classes are the worst I've had since 2004.Truth be told I'm about as good at answering tax questions as my cat is. And yet there I am, day after day, working at the state tax commission. Doesn't add up does it?

Ostertag and hockey. Swimming and speedos. Me and taxes. Somethings should simply never be paired up.

Post Script: Please do not inform my employers about this blog.