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Another Random Memory about Plastique

I always loved the paintings in Plastique, especially that big X painting behind the bar. Only after Plastique closed did I find out that one of my closest friends, Scott Allen, did all of the paintings in there (and was in a battle to try and get the big X back) and another friend, Randy Killen, helped design and install all of the lights in the club. And I think Randy didn't get paid, or something. There was some sort of scandal around the whole thing, if I recall. One of those "rich kid wants a club of his own, so dad pays for it, but it never actually makes any money" kind of deals.

I don't know why I didn't know that Scott and Randy had been involved until after the fact -- I interacted with both of them almost every day. Weird.

Alas, the best clubs burn bright and then are gone quickly. By Fall of 87, Plastique was no longer the "it" club, and the Ivy Tower -- with its different rooms pumping out different genres, was the new place to be. Sad.

Facebook Group for Helaman Halls 86/87

Yes kids, its true: we've created a group up on Facebook to start the gathering of folks who lived in Helaman Halls back in Fall 1986 to Winter 1987. Why? Because those were the golden years! Pillow fight, President (now Elder) Holland's fit over green industrial foam, nights at the Pie Pizzaria, lame Survivor concerts (who ever thought these white leather-bound bozos could ever fill the Marriott Center?), and countless Budge runs.

We're wondering what happened to everyone? Who hitchhiked down to Guatemala and then dropped out of school? Who is now working as a chiropractor in lovely downtown Orem? Who moved to Portland and won't return the phone calls of past roommates who thought they were good friends and THOUGHT they had left on good terms but just can't understand...and your parents don't understand why you're not returning calls either? Not that I have anyone specific in mind...

If you were part of the freshman year mayhem, please join.

A vicious 20 year cycle

So I have an update to the glorious P and C saga.  We now live 30 minutes from each in some odd karma twist.  Okay maybe not, Crisp submitted my resume to Microsoft and I got a job there.  HOwever, it is still a little odd that the paths still remain in tack, bleck

Raintree apartments, a rake, shaving cream and a wig

I remember an evening in Provo while living at raintree apartments that required running through the complex me with a golf sandtrap rake ('borrowed' from a golf course in Vacaville California) and Crispy with a wig, shaving cream, and if I do recall, he had saran wrapped half his body.  We break out the front door at full sprint, me chasing Crispy who is shreaking wildly.  I think we ran around the pool, hopped the creek and went back to the apartment.  I think the whole event lasted 45 seconds perhaps.  I do remember it vividly though.  Funny to think that 20 years later I can remember 45 seconds of my life.  It was the same evening that I set the cookbook on fire on the stove.  Good times.

John is Not Dead

Long live John! Well, ain't that a smack in the pantaloons....out of the blue John Barrow drops me an email. He was searching for our mutual friend and onetime roommate Kirk Hedman (living large in South Jordan, Utah, sprouting children from every pore), and came across this here weblog, and BAM he is alive again.

For those kiddies unfamiliar with the whole Raintree Apartments episode of my life, John shared a room with Kirk during the first semester of our sophomore year at BYU. John was recently returned from his mission (Mexico, I think), fancied plaid pajamas, and was in a perpetual state of returned-missionary shock. It didn't help matters that Preston and I were one step short of rabid, always looking for way to torture all of those we came into contact with our subtle form of insanity. Things like 1) listening to music at live concert-levels, 2) burning several packs of incense at a time, 3) setting stuffed animals on fire outside our front door stoop and back patio, 4) dry ice bombs in and out of the house, 5) randomly disassembling furniture, 6) bringing farm animals into the apartment and letting them loose, etc etc.

A brief snippet from his email:

I have to say that back then I was doing everything I could to stay on the straight and narrow – recently returned from a mission; it was definitely a shock to live with you guys. I thought you were nuts and always wondered what would eventually happen to you. But, at the same time I always admired your ability to do what you wanted – to be spontaneous and really LIVE your life.

Of course, the insantiy was all quite necessary. I like to think that we helped make John a stronger human being - like Kwai Chang Caine from the television show Kung Fu (ah, Grasshoppah!)

Yeah, just like that...