Ryan Byrd’s Ramblings

In the world of competitive eating, no name stands out more than Takeru Kobayashi of Japan, who in this year’s Nathan’s Famous Fourth of July International Hot Dog Contest set a new world record of 53 and 3/4 hot dogs and buns in 12 minutes.

That’s impressive.

Today is software release day for my company and as such, the company bought the developers dinner as an encouragement to stay and resolve the bugs. They over estimated and ended up buying 5 large meat party platters and 60 buffalo wings from Famous Dave’s. That’s a lot of food for ten people. After stuffing myself on healthy portions of pulled pork and beef brisket slathered in sauce, I decided to have a few hot wings. I stopped at 13, my mouth burning from the spicy coating, and fell into a daze, much to the amusement of my coworkers. I could eat no more. Minutes later, however, they (my coworkers) goaded me into consuming an additional 7 for a total of 20. 1/3 of them all. That was a half of an hour ago.

I don’t feel so well right now.

Speaking of food, I’ve decided to save money by eating exclusively TV dinners. The cheapest of the microwave dinners (available at Walmart for 84 cents) is Banquet. They have several offerings:

• Turkey Meal
• Spaghetti Meal
• Chicken Fried Steak Meal

Last night I had the Turkey Meal. The full title on the box says, and I’m not joking, “Turkey Meal, Mostly White Meat”. What they mean is not that the turkey is ground up and contains a greater percentage of white meat than dark meat, but rather that they include three slices of turkey, two white and one dark. 66% white is “mostly”, I suppose. It’s not the mostly white meat that is the problem, however. Nor is it the florescent green peas. It’s the mashed potatoes. They are horrible. Simply awful. I’m not sure if I have the standing to complain about a meal that costs 84 cents (I likely waved that right by purchasing the food), but seriously, how hard is it to make decent instant mashed potatoes? Darn Con Agra Foods and their genetically modified, crappy potatoes!

All is not lost. Beau Scott tells me that his apartment complex is having a barbeque in a week and that they have an eating contest. He says I am invited. The way I see it, with all those hot wings I ate, I’m an athlete in training.

Podcast

I’m a Cougar, I’m a Ute. I’m Cute! or maybe a Utegar? Whatever. I have a bachelor’s degree from BYU and I’m working on my MBA from the U. I thought about a final windsprint to the finish line this semester so I could graduate in December. While in Cancun, sun tanning on the beach, I had a change of heart, an epiphany, if you will. Why kill myself for a faster degree? Such an effort would only have deleterious effects on my sociality, health and general spirit. Better to be more moderate and finish spring of next year. Better for me. Better for the world. I’ll be able to blog more, and heaven knows the world enjoys my blog. I’m a practically a megablogging superstar. There are literally dozens of people who visit my blog annually. I’m talking DOZENS here!

I was absent my first day of class (which was last Wednesday), because I was on an airplane back to the States. Speaking of States, did you know that the official name of Mexico is “The United States of Mexico” (actually “Los Estados Unidos de Mexicanos”). Mexicans are not only American (North American), they are also from a United States. “We’re all the same”, they seem to be saying, “Mr Bush tear down this wall.” I know, there’s no wall yet, though I understand we’re planning on building one. I’m guessing that the United States of Mexicans aren’t too thrilled about that. I’m betting we didn’t ask them.

I’ve talked before about my thoughts on the problems and ramifications of illegal immigration. But I have divagated, haven’t I? I was talking about going back to school and how my teacher sucks because instead of the first day of class being a fluff class where he reviews the syllabus, talks about his background and let students out early, he actually covered four hours of content. That’s lame. That also means I’m behind already. Gosh. I’m betting that it’s not helping my cause by blogging during class instead of listening. It’s my way of rebelling against the system. Take that teacher!

It’s no secret that I think polygamists are Satan’s imps. I’ve blogged about how to destroy polygamy in Utah. I even registered the domain www.endpolygamy.com, but I haven’t got around to putting up a site there yet. Why the hate? I think polygamists suck because they hurt little children. I have no mercy for those who hurt children. Down with them all!

I’m not alone in my distain for the shifty-eyed perverts and their ugly wives. The kingpin of the weirdo cultists down in Hildale, Utah, and Colorado City, Arizona, a Mr Warren Steed Jeffs, has been on the FBI’s Ten Most Wanted list since May. I guess Jeffs violated a few laws when he arranged a marriage between a 16-year-old girl and a married man. Utah sees that as a felony count of rape as an accomplice. Oops!

Some months ago, I went and visited Hildale and I was very impressed at their widespread attempt at tax evasion by not finishing the exteriors of their houses. Nice touch. I guess it doesn’t matter, because all the local law enforcement are part of the inbred, evil clan of sodomites, so no one is going to come a knocking.

So this leader of theirs, Jeffs, has been on the lamb, so to speak; laying low in order to avoid detection. What better way to hide from the feds than to cruise around Las Vegas in a pimped out Cadillac Escalade? Jeffs’ big pimpin’ came to a sudden end when, yesterday, he was pulled over by a Nevada Highway Patrol trooper on I-15 just north of Las Vegas.

Maybe you’re wondering what sort of gear the false prophet was toting around in his sweet ride? Here’s a partial list:

• 27 stacks of $100 bills (totaling $67,500)
• 14 cellular phones (He doesn’t just collect underage wives…)
• two Global Positioning System units (why stop at just one?)
• two female wigs (They bring out his feminine side)
• several knives (most high speed chases end in knife fights)
• several CDs (cruising music)
• three watches (presents for the teenage girls he’s dating)
• three IPods (presents for his teenage wives)
• seven sets of keys (seven sets for seven wives)
• a photograph of Jeffs and his father (who said Jeffs wasn’t sentimental?)

Many of you will likely email me to comment that this blog entry is an uncharacteristic departure from the mirthful into the bellicose. “Why all the fervor?”, you’ll question. I’m not sure, although I think my dependence on microwave TV dinners lately is messing with my brain. Darn Swansons!

A week ago my work buddy, Mike Nelson, gave me the following puzzle: “Imagine you were reduced to the size of a nickel and placed into a blender. You have sixty seconds before the blender turns on. What do you do?” (Sharp eyed readers will recall I included the puzzle in my recent blog entry How would you move Mount Fuji)

What to do? What to do?

Thoughts. Well, my first thought would be to duck under the blades and hope that 1-no liquids are added to the blender and 2- the blender isn’t given a little shake at the end of the blending cycle like you sometimes do to dislodge unblended chunks. Then I thought about trying to scale the walls, but a glass wall isn’t particularly scalable. It’s like a 5.14 something. Could I tip the blender over? Not likely. Could I jam the blades with my shirt or belt? Probably not.

Wait! Now would be a great time to negotiate with what or whoever placed me into the blender. Give in to whatever demands they have in order to be removed from the quandary. Stop! Why am I attempting to use physics and logic to solve a illogical puzzle? Whatever magic was used to shrink me to the size of a nickel might also be used to return me to normal size, or transport me out of the blender, or make me indestructible, or allow me to pass through the walls of the blender, or continue to shrink me until I was microscopic. At the very least, the magic could be used to bring me back from the dead.

But maybe in this scenario, I’m nearing death anyway. In that case, I ought to use the last 60 seconds to peacefully reflect over my life. Then again, perhaps I was cast down into the blender by pinko liberal commies and, in that case, I might use my 60 seconds in a harsh condemnation of their treachery.

So many possibilities.

That was a major motivation for Ben, David, Cory and I going to a Bees baseball game with 30 or so of Ben’s LDS Business College friends. It’s only the third baseball game I’ve been to in my life — the first a high school game and the second a Provo Angels (a minor league team) game.

The national anthem was sung by an eight year old kid who had an amazing voice. Eyes closed, I would have sworn an adult was singing, an adult with ten years of professional voice training. Good job kid!

We sat in the back row of the nosebleed section, which was ok, given our free ticket status and, in fact, I liked the panoramic view it provided. Unfortunately, when the Bees Girls (baseball cheerleaders?) came out to throw free Frisbees and tee shirts into the crowd, they were unable to reach us. It was the combination of how far up we were and that they all threw like girls. One poorly executed throw actually resulted in the tee shirt landing behind the Bees Girl in the baseball field. Not-so-good job. Oh, and David got his picture taken with a Bees Girl named Stephanie.

All that sitting and watching grown men play a kid’s game all seriously as if they had real jobs, reminded me that I too was irresponsible and had missed dinner. I climbed down from the stands and headed to the concessions. I ordered a $3.75 hot dog and a $2.50 large drink and the lady asked me for a total of $4.00. Perplexed, I counted out the four bills and smothering my hot dog in ketchup, headed back out to spectate.

Following suit, David left to order a medium drink at the counter. After purchasing the beverage and returning to the stands, he realized that he had been short-changed by that same vendor lady, resulting in his drink costing $7.00. I guess that that’s karma, the age old cosmic principle of making things right in the end. You don’t have to be Hindu to understand it. What goes around comes around.

Lately, my technical friends (especially Beau, Josh, Burdette and Kevin) and I have been talking about Utah Tech interview questions we’ve experienced. (I blogged about this before.) Here are some more questions from those conversations:

• How do you reverse a string in the fastest possible way?
• How do you count the number of 1 bits in a string in the fewest number of cycles?
• Design a monopoly game in your favorite object oriented language.
• Write pseduocode for the steps you need in building a house
• You have a 3 and a 5 gallon bucket. You need 4 gallons of water. How do you use the two buckets you have to get exactly 4 gallons of water. (There are at least two ways, with and without the use of another container)
• Two people standing at a crossroads. One person tells only the truth, the other tells only lies. You are allowed to ask one question to one person to determine which road to take. What’s your question?
• There are three doors. Behind two doors are goats. Behind one is a new car. You select door number one. Before that door is opened, you are shown another door and you see there is a goat behind that door. You have the option of staying with door one or switching to the other unopened door. What’s your move?
• Two people A & B have coins. If person A gives one coin to person B, they will both have the same number of coins. If B gives a coin to A, then A will have twice the coins as B. How many coins does each A and B have?
• 
• Imagine you were reduced to the size of a nickel and placed into a blender. You have sixty seconds before the blender turns on. What do you do?
• How many piano tuners are there in Utah?
• How many gas stations are there in California?
• How would you move Mount Fuji?
• Given an array of integers wherein all but one number is repeated an even number of times, find the most efficient way of determining the number that is repeated only an odd number of times.
• Given a binary search tree, produce an ordered list of the nodes

I sent these jokes the other day to Allison, my Canadian friend, but I thought a few of you might enjoy them as well:

There was a man who entered a local paper’s pun contest. He sent in ten different puns, in the hope that at least one of the puns would win. Unfortunately, no pun in ten did.

A ship carrying blue paint collided with a ship carrying red paint. The crew are believed to be marooned.

A man rushed into the doctor’s office and shouted, “Doctor! I think I’m shrinking!” “Hang on a sec,” replied the doctor, “you’ll just have to be a little patient.”

What did the Buddhist say to the hot dog vendor? Make me one with everything.

Twin brothers, one named Emal and the other Juan, grew up and moved out of the country. A year later, their mother receives from Juan a letter and picture of himself. His mother sighs and mentions she wishes she had a picture from Emal as well. ‘Why,’ replies her husband, ‘if you’ve seen Juan, you’ve seen Emal.’

Anyone who knows me well, knows that I’m no stranger to the world of dance. I grew up in the break dancing era and I am comfortably at home on a dance floor. I’ve taken ballroom dance at college. I’ve competed in a USA DanceSport Cha Cha competition. I can country dance. I’ve been to every UVSC College of Dance expo in the last four years. I have season tickets to Salt Lake City’s Odyssey Dance Theatre performances, including the ever popular Halloween Thriller show (coming up October 19-28, 2006 at Kingsbury Hall). It’s not uncommon to find me some weekend on the floor of an SLC dance club (like the Vortex) showing off my mad skills. It’s no secret that I have rhythm.

Lest you misunderstand, I’m not a dancer, I just know how to dance. I’m reminded of the words of Lord Chesterfield, in a letter to his son, “And though I would not have you a dancer, yet, when you do dance, I would have you dance well, as I would have you do everything you do well.”

As an aficionado, I’ve obviously watched the recent movies, “Shall We Dance“, “Save the Last Dance”, “Take the Lead“, “Bring it On”, “Bring it On Again” as well as the latest in this lineup of films, “Step Up”, which I saw with my friend Jennifer a short time ago.

Unfortunately, unlike its predecessors Shall We Dance and Take the Lead, I found Step Up to be a movie I don’t recommend. Specifically, I thought the dancing was mechanical and contrived and the plot horribly predictable.

Let’s return briefly to Susan Sarandon in Jennifer Lopez’s Shall We Dance. Susan (Beverly), waxes philosophical in a restaurant with her hired detective as she thinks about relationships. She says,

“We need a witness to our lives. There’s a billion people on the planet… I mean, what does any one life really mean? But in a marriage, you’re promising to care about everything. The good things, the bad things, the terrible things, the mundane things… all of it, all of the time, every day. You’re saying ‘Your life will not go unnoticed because I will notice it. Your life will not go un-witnessed because I will be your witness’.”

If a marriage is all about witnessing another’s life, I must be married to my blog, or perhaps more accurately, to each of my blog readers. What an odd thought!

And with that random introduction, it’s now time to talk about today’s topic, yoga.

Last night, Holly, my friend who happens to be a yoga instructor, was teaching yoga at a local Gold’s Gym. I showed up, grabbed a mat and followed along. As I see it, yoga largely involves contorting your body into impossible positions, “with your next breath, go ahead and bring up one foot and place it over your head. Now wrap your left arm backwards around your body grabbing a hold of that ankle. Stretch the other arm towards the ceiling. Now raise up on your foot until you are balancing on your toes. Concentrate on your breathing.”

In sum, I can dance better than you and yoga is a lot harder than you think. That’s all.

Hello loyal readers! I’m finally back from the land of wacky sombreros, carved Mayan statuettes and McDonalds’ restaurants that call ketchup “salsa”. I must have been missed because I downloaded 1501 email messages when I got into work this morning. That in addition to the several hundred personal emails I got last night. Either I’m really popular, or I’m on a lot of mailing lists.

I’ll post a number of blog entries detailing our adventures, but here are some of the highlights:

• Perfect turquoise water, pristine white sandy beaches and relaxing balmy weather
• Dropping my digital camera while kayaking and killing it. NEW CAMERA FOR ME!
• Five diamond hotel hopping (Gran Melin, Marriott, etc.)
• Clubbing at Dady-o’s
• Exploring Mayan archeological ruins (Chichen Itza, Tulum)
• Snorkeling with exotic fish
• Women who forgot to put on their bikini tops
• Lizards, lizards everywhere
• Dinner at a five star restaurant
• Winning the “Jerk of the Week” award
• Day excursions: Xel-ha, Xcaret
• Cultural shows
• Cancun cuisine review
• Sinkholes and underground rivers
• Spanish language misadventures
• Bargaining with the natives, souvenir haggling
• Mayan baptismal fonts
• Night life: discovering the 20-something hot spots
• Big pimpin’ ghetto style
• Overactive sweat glands
• Hockey with a flaming, rolling puck

With topics like these, you’re no doubt waiting in rapt anticipation, with bated breath for the lurid (and not so lurid) details. I realize the utter turmoil you’ve experienced during this week of no Daily Byrd and I’ll make it up to you. I promise.

A couple of friends, my sister and I are leaving early tomorrow morning for a vacation in Cancun Mexico. We’ll be gone for a week, relaxing on the Playa del Carmen (beaches), exploring the archeological ruins of Chichen Itza, swimming with dolphins, cliff diving and sipping virgin margaritas while reading mystery novels. It might sound as if I’m boasting, but actually, I’m just really excited. The other night while visiting with my friend Ashley, who had, coincidently just returned from Cancun, I was particularly energized by her tales of recent adventure down there.

I don’t know what sort of Internet access I’ll have. it’s possible that an entire week will go by without a blog entry. For the growing number of you who have become addicted to the “Daily Byrd”, this could be a painful absence. Don’t fear. I’ll be back soon with a notebook full of adventure blogs ready to post. Oh, and photographs. I’m going to take a lot of photographs to throw in the gallery for your viewing pleasure.

In an earlier post, I had announced that we were traveling to Oaxaca (pronounced “Wah ha Kuh”), Mexico, but due to the current political unrest concerning alleged voting irregularities, we changed our flights to avoid the demonstrations. That and when I would tell people where I was going they would say, “you’re going to the armpit of Mexico?!?” Quite the reputation.

I’m looking forward to being off the grid. Unplugged. It will do me good. (I’m not addicted, I can quit any time I want.) Most days I check my email every five minutes or so. That doesn’t seem particular healthy. Still, I’ll likely jump on the net in an Internet cafe at least once or twice while I’m there.