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A Poem I Wish I’d Written

A few days ago, I received a much-appreciated email from my friend Karen, who’d read my annual holiday mope and wanted to let me know my dark feelings weren’t all that unusual. She also wanted to forward something she thought I’d like, a poem she’d seen that “seemed very much like something [I could] have written.” I smirked at the idea, remembering that my last experiment with this particular literary form was back in 1990, just after I’d broken up with this one particular girl and was convinced there would never be another, and my fate was to be unceasing heartbreak and loneliness and hair-metal ballads about the same. (Hey, I was only 20, and not an especially mature 20-year-old at that). Let us simply say the results of my poetic efforts weren’t exactly, um, good, and then we’ll politely turn away from the sobbing idiot in the corner…
But hey, I didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth, as the cliche goes — you see why I wasn’t much of a poet? — so I followed Karen’s link and, well, darned if it does sound like something I could’ve written, if only I had any talent at all for writing poetry. In a strange example of synchronicity, it even evokes my memories of the last year I was driven by hurt to scratch out a few talentless lines of free verse, as if the man I am now were looking back across a couple decades and finally able to say what he wasn’t able to say then, in the way he wanted to say it but couldn’t.
Or something like that. Maybe I just like the imagery of old T-birds and open roads and Cecil B. DeMille. The poem is below the fold, should you wish to read it for yourself…

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Cheno Crashes the Super Bowl

So, it seems that Doritos and Pepsi Max are co-sponsoring this contest called Crash the Super Bowl, which invites all you clever video and film people out there to make a commercial and submit it to a website for judging. The makers of the top five videos for each product (ten total) will receive cash prizes, and then the top three videos for each brand (six in all) will air during the Super Bowl, whereupon the lucky winning filmmakers will be granted outlandish fame, vast fortunes, irresistible sex appeal, and a puppy.

Okay, not really, but the filmmakers will have the thrill and professional exposure of having their work appear during the biggest televised sporting event of the year. My friend and occasional co-conspirator Mike Chenoweth is hoping to get a piece of that action with a clever commercial that combines pitches for both products in a single concept that required, as he puts it, “15 Family-sized Doritos bags, 60 Pepsi Max cans and an amazing cast / crew!!!!”

His video is now up on the Crash the Super Bowl website. I can’t embed it here, unfortunately, but you can have a look at it by clicking this. If you’re amused, please consider voting for him, if for no other reason than so I can bask in his reflected glory…

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The Storm’s Over at Last…

DSC_0498_e, originally uploaded by jason.bennion.

Here’s what it looked like today at the old Bennion Domicile, gateway to the fabulous Bennion Compound, following three days and nights of more-or-less continuous snowfall. Thankfully, I haven’t had to be out in it much at all until now. I don’t do Black Friday, and I didn’t have to go back to work this morning, either. I’ve got a lot of unused vacation time that I’m trying to burn up before the end of the year. It’s use-it-or-lose-it, a deeply silly policy that’s supposed to encourage workaholic ad-men and -women to actually take vacations, but considering that the warm, vacation-y months are usually our busiest times, what happens is that everybody puts it off until they can’t any longer, and then tries to figure a way to take it all at the end of the year. And thus the office ends up looking like a scene from a zombie apocalypse movie during November and December. That is, the place becomes very quiet, very cold from the lack of heat-generating lifeforms, and more than a little spooky. But no less hectic for the poor slobs who are present.

And I get to go back to that tomorrow… Sigh.

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Rock and Roll Xmas Starring… Me!

Black Friday, the day on which I must finally accept the inevitability of the Holiday Season, and stop muttering under my breath every time I hear a Christmas song on the radio. It’s here now, so I may as well grit my teeth, hold on tight, and ride this bronco through to the end.

In the spirit of sucking it up and doing what you can to get by, here’s a silly little something I threw together over at JibJab. Some of you may have already seen this on Facebook, but I think there’s enough diversity in my audiences here and there that I’m going to risk repeating myself, because this one really amuses me. The music is provided by the awesome mash-up band Rock Sugar, and in a nice bit of synchronicity, the photo of my face that I used was taken at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame last month… enjoy!!

Personalize funny videos and birthday eCards at JibJab!
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What I’m Thankful For

Okay, that last entry was a major drag. I apologize for getting carried away like that. As I said, I have a difficult time with the holidays, and I do tend to get overwhelmed with anxiety and ennui as they approach. I really would like to just run away from them. I guess I’ve turned into my father after all.

That said, however, I do try to enjoy them. inasmuch as my particular form of social retardation allows. So in that spirit, I’m now going to do what I’ve seen so many other bloggers and Facebookers doing today and list off a few of the things for which I’m thankful on Thanksgiving. Well, maybe not actually on Thanksgiving, which is of course just another stressful damn holiday, but in general. You know what I mean…

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Thanks for What?

norman-rockwell_freedom-from-want.jpg

Ah, Thanksgiving again, the portal to the madness and melancholy of the holiday season, the signpost warning that another year’s end is coming up fast and you’re going too fast to make the turn.

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And Winter Arrives…

DSC_0495_crop, originally uploaded by jason.bennion.

Ah, Utah… a land of eccentricity no matter which way you look… in the people, certainly; in the landscape, unquestionably; but perhaps no place more than in the weather.

Last week, people were walking around in light jackets, and even shirtsleeves during the warmest part of the day. Then came a couple days of unnervingly strong and temperate winds, followed by torrential rains on Saturday night and then, with a temperature drop so abrupt it almost makes The Day After Tomorrow seem plausible — well, okay, not really; nothing could actually do that — the first big snowstorm of the year. I woke up yesterday morning to nine inches of the white stuff on my deck. There were good-sized tree branches down all over the valley, shattered by the weight of sodden snow caught in unshed autumnal leaves. The Girlfriend had an entire tree come down just outside her apartment, narrowly missing her bedroom window.

The state’s official slogan is “Life Elevated” — no, I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean either — but I think it really ought to be “Like Drama?”

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The Talk

I know this is supposed to be funny, and it is, but there’s a poignant little kernel of truth at the core of it, too. I can easily see myself grappling with these exact issues should I ever father a child…

Yes, the exact same issues. Times are different now, more complicated than when we were kids. Oh, how I can relate to this statement:

“We do not watch the Special Editions of the original trilogy in this house.”

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