A wedding

My youngest brother, Russell, got married yesterday. What a great occasion. It was a privilege to be in the temple with him, his lovely bride, Jennifer; my own wife; my other brothers and their wives; my parents; Jen's parents, siblings and spouses; other family members; and some dear friends. The ceremony provided opportunity to be reminded of things that are most important, namely the relationships that we have with family. That is the one great cornerstone to our Heavenly Father's plan. It is the reason we exist. It is the reason for the gospel - to bring families together in eternal units. Russell and Jen are the latest in that unit and I'm grateful to have been in attendance.

Likewise, I'm glad they had such a great reception last night. It was a reunion in many ways. A family reunion, a ward reunion, and a reunion with friends. The night was about Russ and Jen, but some of the rest of us benefited greatly, too.

Hmmmm. As I ponder the subject, I hope that death is somewhat like a wedding reception, with the newly deceased standing in the center of the room, maybe with a couple of previously deceased relatives by his side, and many, many other family and friends filing through in a line to greet him and congratulate him on his achievement. Heck, I hope that there are also chicken salad sandwiches, meatballs, and an Italian ice/syrup bar, catered by Belnap & Company. Now that would be a sweet homecoming.

Taming the wild beast

Last month, I shared a few thoughts about a recent trip to Jackson, Wyoming. Here is a photo from a trip to the same area a few years ago. I'm not sure what came over me. Clearly I was a little younger and a little more invincible. At the time this photo was taken, I don't think I had yet seen the signs warning tourists to keep away from the wildlife.

This guy didn't seem to be too concerned. Oh, and they're not as soft as they look from a distance.

Anticipating June

Our next Havasupai trip is scheduled for June 2009. In honor of our last trip in June 2008, I've put together a little Photo Story compilation. If you like Boston, turn up the volume. Enjoy.

Another four years...

Like most people, I voted this past Tuesday. Actually, I voted several days before that because I voted by mail. Much easier and it avoids the lines.

After arriving home that evening, I spent a few minutes watching the news reports. In addition to the presidential race, I was interested in the marriage propositions in California, Arizona and Florida. I say I spent a few minutes because, frankly, I can't take much more than that.

As I sat watching one particular news program, the "talking head" was looking at a large screen that had the data from one particular state. As they typically do, the "head" was attempting to project the winner for this state based upon the information then available. After several attempts to try and decide who the winner might be in the state, he finally stated that it was "still too early to call." I found that statement particularly idiotic, since the bottom of the large screen he was looking at, underneath the outline of the state, clearly said "0% of precincts reporting."

I yelled at the TV. "You think? You think it might be just a little too early with only 0% of the precincts reporting?" Idiots.

Carey is always more perceptive than I am. She commented that she didn't understand why I was watching the reports since they were just making me mad. I turned the TV off.

I did, however, turn it back on from time to time to check the progress of things. Unfortunately, not everything went the way I thought it should, but I guess I'm not surprised by that. I was happy to see that all three marriage propositions passed. Not that I believe the 'war' is now over. A battle has been won, but the war, unfortunately, will go on.

I worry for our country. More particularly, I worry for my children and for their children. I still believe we live in the greatest country and their remains much that is good. I will watch with interest how our new president conducts business. He has his work cut out for him. I hope he doesn't go it alone.

A visit to Jackson

I have opportunity to travel around the country as a part of my work. I've seen many places that I probably would otherwise never get to see. One of the perks of state-service, at least for me. When I travel, I usually don't have time to see much more than what I can take in during the evenings. Every now and then, I'll have a free afternoon to venture more than a few blocks from the hotel. In either case, I'm grateful for the experience and opportunities to see places that most folks only hear or read about.

Such is the case with Jackson Hole, Wyoming. I spent three days there in early October for a conference. This was the second time I've been to this beautiful spot for a meeting. Stayed at the Snow King resort on the edge of town. It's a small town, which is convenient for the traveler, especially if most of your free time happens to be evenings. It's convenient to hit the downtown area after meeting hours, walk along the boardwalks on either side of the main drag and pop in and out of the shops, looking for something unique.

I love this town and the area that surrounds it. Beautiful country. This trip, due to airline schedules, etc., I ended up with an afternoon free. What's more, I had a rental car, so I took a drive north toward Yellowstone National Park. I didn't go that far north, since there was much to see along the way and I wanted to be back to the hotel before dark.

I found a great little trail to hike about 25 miles north of Jackson. The trail leads to a large cliff face for rock climbers. There weren't any climbers out, so I hiked around the back side and up on top of the rock and out to the edge where it overlooks the valley with the Tetons in the background. It was a great spot for a photo, so I set up the camera, put it on the timer and took a shot of myself. I wanted a second one, without the ridiculous pose, so I sent the camera up again, hurried back to the edge to sit down and waited. Just before the second photo was taken, a gust of wind came up and blew the camera off it's perch. It fell about 4 feet to a small ledge, bounced once, then fell another 10-15 feet into some dirt and rocks. I was able to get a few more pictures out of it after that, but in the end the camera died.

I love looking at the Tetons. I love to anticipate the day when I'll take a full week off of work with my boys and spend the whole week hiking, camping and fishing in and around those mountains.

I was looking for some wildlife, but wasn't finding any. I took a detour off onto a side road and after a couple miles drive, found upwards of 200 to 300 buffalo. Beautiful sight. It almost seems like one could walk right up to one of these beasts, climb aboard and go for a ride.

If I had an extra million lying around...

Black River

Our annual Black River trip took place a couple of weeks ago. Dallas and I were accompanied by two of my brothers, Michael and Russell, two of Michael's boys, Matt and Mason, my dad, a friend, Reuben, and two of his brothers.

The trip was great, as usual. We didn't have as much success in the fishing department as we've had in the past, but we caught enough to have fish for dinner one night. The other night, we cooked up a dutch oven full of potatoes, onions, carrots and hunks of steak.

Mind you, we went to a fair amount of trouble for this meal. We camp at the river's edge, down in the bottom of the canyon. In terms of wilderness, it doesn't get much more remote than this in Arizona. This is "backpack all your stuff in" country, so getting the dutch oven, potatoes, steaks, etc. in means the addition of a lot of extra weight to already heavy packs. But, it's worth it, as you can see from the photos.

The area down in the canyon is beautiful. Very green. Very quite. We rarely see anyone else in the canyon as was the case this trip, so we had the whole thing to ourselves.

Wild turkeys are plentiful, antelope, bighorn sheep, elk, deer... if only we could shoot one and have it for dinner! Now that would be some good eatin'!

Looking forward to 2009!

A brother-in-law's cling to hope.

My brother in law, who shall remain unnamed, but whose initials are K.E.N.T. H.U.R.S.T., frequently (as frequently as he can living 600 miles from Phoenix) attempts to poke fun at the fact that I have lost practically all of the hair on the top of my head.

Now, those of you who know me well, know that I would only be too pleased to loose what few remaining threads of hair I have left. When it comes to hair care, quite simply, I am lazy. If it is long enough that it needs to be combed, then it is time to get it cut. "Wash and wear." That's my motto. So, if what remains were to all fall out during the night, well, after cleaning up the mess on my pillow, I'd be a happy camper.

A couple of weeks ago, as we spent time together enjoying my in-law's 50th wedding anniversary celebration, the futile taunts began again. We were breaking lunchtime bread together in the Lion House, one of Brigham Young's former homes in Salt Lake City, now a restaurant. The food was excellent by the way. If you ever go, be sure to get yourself some of them rolls and slather on a bunch of the honey butter. Matter of fact, just shove a roll into your pocket for an afternoon snack and spoon all the butter into your mouth before someone else gets it. Now that's good eatin'.

Anyway, we're enjoying this lunch together and I am taking a couple of photos from different locations in the room. You know, for posterity and all. As I head back to my seat, I snap this photo of the top of Kent's head. Notice the reflection on top from the light. Notice as well the classic "male pattern" loss of hair from the entire top of his head.



Tonight, I had my wife take a photo of the top of my head. Never mind the stylish pajama bottoms; you know you like them. Focus your attention on the near-perfect shape of the top of my head. Since I don't often see myself from this angle, I wasn't aware that it is as perfect as it is. Amazing. Notice the reflection from the light.

Now, take a look again at my brother-in-law's head and imagine that the few stragglers that he chooses to grow long are removed. Seriously, is there any difference? I think not. I've tried to tell him this for many years now, but he refuses to believe me and continues to cling to this mistaken belief that he is not as bald as I am. Remove the comb-overs and, well, the proof is in the photos.

KENT: LET IT GO! It's ok! When we are restored to our perfect frames, you and I will have something more to look forward to than those who've lost nothing.

Bald is the best.

A new sister-in-law

Let me start by saying that I love my sisters-in-law. They've been great for my brothers, and for my brothers-in-law. Having said that, I'm very excited about the addition of another one. Yes, Russ is finally getting married! A tender mercy on all of us if there ever was one! An answer to many prayers. A wonderful moment in the history of the Perkins family.

What of the bride to be, Jennifer Eagar? I think I can safely speak for the entire family when I say that we are quite thrilled that Russ has followed the example set by his brothers and is "marrying up." Jen is wonderful. Need I say more? Her grace, beauty, spirituality, intellect and other fine traits will more than compensate for the veritable plethora of areas in which Russ falls short.

Russ, you know I love you, too, but this is about Jen.

Jen, we love you already and we welcome you to the family.

My kids

I'm really proud of my kids. Yes, they can be challenging at times, but I suppose that is fair, since I'm sure that as a father, I can be challenging to them at times.

Sometimes I wonder where time has gone. Dallas, Dylan and Kamryn will be turning 18, 15, and 8 respectively this November, Kelsey will be 12 not long after that. Hard to believe.

They each have their own talents and each make me smile and make me proud for many reasons.

Here is one of many. http://youtube.com/watch?v=JAuQUYXxgjc

Beegees - It doesn't get any better than that!

OK, I've added a 'Playlist' feature at the bottom of this blog, and added some of my favorite songs. I know, some of them date me. What can I say. Brigham, the first two on the list are for you. You know you like them.

Here is a short video clip of me at the rope swing downstream from Mooney Falls in Havasupai. It's a great cooling off spot if you are hiking to or from Beaver Falls. You'll notice that I have a pretty sweet move for a middle-aged, bald guy. Good times.

A Tribute

Although many have already been posted, I feel compelled to add this short tribute to little Daxton Douglas Kunz, who returned to his Heavenly Father on Monday, June 9, 2008. God speed, little guy. May your short time in this life continue to uplift and inspire.

Debating counsel from leaders. I wonder sometimes if there are those that spend too much time picking apart the words of the Church leaders. I wonder what value there is in looking for the meanings behind the meanings. I wonder if there isn’t at least a slight bit of danger trying to “read between the lines.” I wonder if in such situations, folks aren’t just trying to justify their own, contrary positions. Not totally unrelated, I wonder if some folks rely too much on the positions of their peers, simply because they (the peers) are outspoken, well-spoken, or both. Sometimes I think people confuse education with authority. The ability to clearly express oneself doesn’t make one an authority on a subject, nor for that matter even a reliable source on a subject.

Love, tolerance and acceptance: I think that too often as a society we interpret the commandment to love one another as a commandment to be tolerant or accepting of one another or, more precisely, with a commandment to be tolerant and accepting of otherwise unacceptable behavior. I say ENOUGH ALREADY! It’s long past time for people to take a stand against unacceptable behavior. One only need look back over recent history to realize that the more society tolerates unacceptable behavior the more acceptable that behavior becomes and consequently, the more base we become as a society.

Expressed another way, think of a scale from 1 to 10, with one being the most crime-free society or the most utopian society and 10 being the worst. Let each of the numbers in between represent whatever behaviors you wish them to represent, so long as the behavior associated with each number becomes increasingly worse as the number increases. One doesn’t have to think about it very long to realize that as our utopian society becomes more tolerant and more accepting of behavior number 2, behavior number 3 starts looking better or at the very least “less bad.” Such continues to be the case as we move up the scale.

I say again, a command to love another is not, in my humble opinion, a command to tolerate another’s unacceptable behavior.

Discrimination. I’m about to the point that if I hear someone else claim they’ve been discriminated against because society won’t accept their behavior as “normal”, I may give them a discrimination 2 x 4 upside the head. The whole argument is so nearly absurd as to be unworthy of discussion. I’m not talking about legitimate claims of discrimination because of race, religion, sex (male vs female) or age. I’m talking about those who feel they are “entitled” to some societal benefit despite the fact that they haven’t complied with the requirements for obtaining that benefit. Rather than conforming to what is acceptable, they wish the rest of us to accept their alternative positions and bestow upon them their “rights.” What a load of crap.

A new post

More than one person has commented to me lately about the lack of recent posts to my blog. I'm never sure how to respond to those comments, except to say that I can't understand where people find so much time to spend blogging. (I'm not even sure if that's the right word.) I mean seriously, where in the world do folks find the time to write page after page after page in some of these posts? It baffles me and makes me think that somewhere along the way, I must have missed some time-management exercise. Either that or I just have too many other things to do to worry about my blog.

Carey and I made a recent trip to Havasupai with many friends, some of whom we have known for a long time, others, not so long. I'm still trying to search for the right adjectives to describe how I felt about the trip. Those of you who were with us (and those who've heard details of the experience) will understand what I mean. Will I go again? You bet. It's hard to pass up an opportunity to strengthen bonds with friends and I can't think of a better place to do that.

As a short summary of my feelings regarding the trip, let me just say, Alisa & Jason, I admire you both. Doug and Brittany, you are MY heroes. May God bless, sustain and comfort both of you.

Salamanca

When I served my mission in Spain, I spent the most time in one city, Salamanca. I served my first four months and my final seven months in that great city. I think I came to know Salamanca and it's people better than most missionaries came to know any one particular city, simply due to the amount of time I was there.

To say that I loved and still love Salamanca is an understatement. For me, that city represents everything that I love about Spain: the people, the history, the language, the food.... there isn't anything that I don't like. I have wonderful memories of certain parts of the city: the Plaza Mayor, the old and new cathedrals, the university, the Casa de Conchas, the Puente Romano (Roman bridge), the apartment building we lived in, the parks and streets we walked daily and where we made contact with so many interesting people.

This is a picture of me sitting on one of the support structures for the Puente Romano. I think it was taken during my second time in Salamanca, so it would have been somewhere in the second half of 1986. I think from the picture you can begin to get some idea of the greatness of the city, with the old and new cathedrals in the background. (You can also see I was quite a bit younger then.) Que guapo! One of the things I wanted to do on my return visit to Salamanca was to get a photo from the same perspective. You can see that a little further down in this post.


We arrived in Salamanca on Sunday afternoon. After checking into the hotel, one of the first things we did was to drive to my old apartment building. I'm sure it wasn't very exciting for Carey, Russell or Janelle, but they were good enough to indulge me this trip down memory lane.

La Calle Federico Anaya, 88, 8-A. That was the street address we were looking for. Didn't take too long to find it. At first it didn't seem all that familiar, but after I imagined the trees a little smaller, the familiarity began to show through. We parked a hundred yards or so down the street and as we were walking toward the building, I wondered if any of the people we were passing were folks that I made contact with years ago.


The front door to the building was slightly open, so the four of us went in. We all crammed into the elevator. Elevators in Spain are notoriously small; we wouldn't have been able to fit a fifth person in with us. We rode to the eighth floor and got off. I felt at home, but I think Carey, Russ and Janelle were a little uncomfortable standing there, uninvited, on the landing common to four different apartments. I had Russ take a picture of me standing in front of apartment "A", which is where I lived so long ago. I don't remember the door being a nice as it is now.

Since the others were a little nervous, we hopped back on the elevator and rode it down and went back out onto the sidewalk. For some reason, I decided to ring the buzzer on the panel at the front door to the building, just to see if anyone in the old apartment would answer. A nice-sounding Spanish lady answered. I asked her if she would open the door for me and let me in. She asked who I was, and I told her that I was a missionary for the Mormon Church. She hesitated a bit and said she wasn't sure if she should (open the door for me). Almost apologetically, she asked if I understood. I assured her that I did and it was ok. Russ, who by this time had put a little distance between himself and me, was a little embarrassed, but oh well, I had fun speaking Spanish and remembering the good old days. No harm done.

We got ourselves back in the car and went back toward the center of the city and found a place to park for awhile. That evening, we spent some time in the Plaza Mayor, (great, or main, plaza). This, too, brought back a lot of memories for me. I can't begin to count the number of times that I passed through the plaza during my time in Salamanca. It almost seemed surreal to be there again.

Over the next 24 hours, we took in many of the sites. We spent some time touring the cathedral. They've opened up some new sections for tours since my time there. The cathedrals and other old buildings have always impressed me. It's amazing to see the kind of works that could be created so many centuries ago, before computers and modern machinery. The photo to the left is one of Carey and I on top of the old (or maybe the new) cathedral. Quite impressive.

Here is the picture of me sitting on one of the supports for the Roman bridge, with the cathedrals in the background. You can see that much has changed over the years, not the least of which is the fact that I've clearly gotten older. I don't feel older, but good grief....

Salamanca. If you ever go to Spain, it's a must-see city.

Espana - A return to the mother land.

Some of you may know that this past Sunday night, I returned from an incredible trip to Spain, which I made with my wife, my youngest brother, Russell, and our dear friend, Janelle. The trip was, in a word, awesome. For me it represented a dream over 21 years in the making. To be able to finally return to the land of my mission (and Russell, to his) after all this time.... well, frankly, in some ways it seems like it was a dream. I can't believe we actually went. I've thought about it for years and, since Russ returned, talked about it for almost as many.

Thanks to Russ' persuasion and to the willingness of family and friends to step in and help with kids and many other little things that would have provided a million reasons not to go, we took the plunge and made the trip. As I said already, it was awesome. I regret nothing about it. Yes, there were things that could have gone a little more smoothly and, if the dollar were a little stronger, a bit less costly, but I regret nothing.

Time permitting, and as a long-passed work associate used to say "God willing and the creek don't rise", I hope to post some of our experiences in written form. Until then, I leave you with one of the many moments of lightheartedness we enjoyed. While in Barcelona, we explored the Park Guell. The park was commissioned by Eusebi Guell, who wanted a prime location for the high class of the city to enjoy. Guell commissioned Antoni Gaudi to create the park. Guadi usually did not have the means (money or materials) to create the works he envisioned. It happened that Guell had both the land and the money, so the two were a perfect match.

I think we explored practically the whole 50 acre park. There were a lot of beautiful and interesting creations to look at and explore. Imagine our suprise, however, when we actually came upon Gaudi, resting from his labors. We were careful not to disturb him, although Janelle insisted on getting a photo with him. This is the best we could do, since he was asleep and all.

Road rage

Last Friday night, I had an experience that, as I told my good wife, represented two more reasons why I need a weapon.

Reason number one: I got onto I-17 northbound at Thomas Rd. at about 10:30. A little more than one mile north, just prior to the Camelback exit, the left side window behind me (back seat window) exploded inward. Glass everywhere. The 'explosion' was pretty dang loud; scared the heck out of me. I seriously thought that I was under attack and that someone had taken a shot at me. I reached for a weapon to return fire, but..... imagine my disappointment at not finding one.

Thankfully, I was able to maintain composure and quickly dialed 911 and pulled off at the Bethany Home exit and parked my now wounded vehicle in a vacant lot and awaited the police. Two of Phoenix's finest soon arrived. Nice guys. They took a look around the vehicle and came to the conclusion that it was more likely a rock that someone had thrown at me that caused the damage, since no bullet or remnants were found in the vehicle. I think I'll just stick with the "someone shot at me" version. It sounds better. In any case, I'm glad it didn't happen one window forward. It would have been a shame to have had my handsome face messed up by the glass.

I made it home without any further incident, although the ride was a bit noisy and windy. Unfortunately, it didn't occur to me to put plastic or anything over the gaping shotgun-blast hole in my window. As a result, my car had a visitor in the night. A cat decided to explore the interior and leave its mark. My car doesn't smell very good. Now you know reason number two.

The support of good friends

Many years ago (boy, that makes me sound way too old), my father taught me a lesson that I will never forget. I don't remember the circumstances that gave rise to the occasion, nor do I even remember the exact words that he used, but he taught me the importance of having friends, particularly good friends. At the time, I didn't appreciate the lesson that he was trying to teach me. Over the years, however, I think I've come to that understanding.

The last few years in particular have brought me many experiences that have helped to teach me the importance of good friends. Some of those experiences have involved a lot of laughter, fun and great times together. Other experiences have involved sorrow and pain, such as the very recent passing of the son and grandson of some very dear friends. Despite the changing circumstances, however, the one constant that seems to stand above the rest is the love and support of good friends.

I am sometimes left emotionally overwhelmed by the outpouring of love and concern toward those who are grieving. If it is overwhelming to me, I know that it must provide some measure of strength and comfort for those whose grief seems almost insurmountable.

I am likewise amazed at the capacity of those who find themselves in terrible circumstances to pick themselves up and continue forward. Of course, the ability to do that is often the result of having good friends and family nearby, and it is always the result of having a solid spiritual foundation and knowledge of our Heavenly Father's plan for his children. That knowledge, that foundation and those friends, while they may not diminish our grief, certainly increase our capacity to bear the trials that are placed before us.

I have been so incredibly blessed to be surrounded by so many people that are good, solid folks. And I've been overwhelmingly blessed with incredible family and friends.

1/31/08 - Glendale, AZ - Performing before a packed, standing-room only crowd at Ironwood High School's auditorium on Thursday night, members of the school student body participated in an invitation only talent show. In all, 12 different talents were presented to the sold-out crowd. The Sahuaro Ranch Ward was well represented by Nick Quintana and Dallas Perkins. Although an official "place" was not received, an honorable mention is worthwhile for Nick and his band, aptly named "Dick Cheney and the Misfires", who worked their magic in the first half of the performance, playing and singing a tune that until that moment, was previously unheard of by this writer. The guitar and drum work was sweet. This was not your father's rock band and as I sat enjoying the moment, I thought of the saying "If the music's too loud, you're too old." I, for one, am still not too old.

Placing 2nd in the overall competition, Dallas tickled the ivory with lightning fingers, playing a stiring rendition of Jon Schmidt's "All Of Me." Kudos to the setup crew, who this year had the foresight to do something with the grand piano (open it up?) so as to allow the audience to actually hear the music. However, thumbs down to the same crew, who had the piano situated in such a manner so as to obscure the keys from view of most in attendance. Those unable to see Dallas work the ivory missed out on part of the performance. During an after-concert interview with his friend and home teaching companion, Jarret Sharp, Dallas was overheard to say, "I do it for the audience." Humbly said, Dallas. Humbly said.

Those interested in seeing, or better yet, hearing, a video clip of the first part of Dallas' performance, the following link should take you to it. Turn up the volume.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gEY2Z9hUvKE