Hunting for House Meat

It’s astounding to me the popularity of the show “House Hunters” on HGTV.  I started watching it when we first got married and we were thinking about buying a house.  Now, 5 years later, it’s still on, multiple times a day, and they have a spin-off “House Hunters International”.  For those of you who are unfamiliar with the show, it follows a couple/family/individual looking to purchase a property, most often for the first time.  They showcase 3 properties, all the while getting the thoughts of the hopeful buyers and the perspective of the seasoned realtor.  At the end of the show, the buyer chooses a property and then they do a “1 month later” segment at the end to show everyone how they’ve made it their own.

Mel and I started watching the show because we were looking for a house and wanted to see more about the process.  When we bought our house 4 years ago, we stopped watching, because there was nothing else to learn.  However, we found ourselves gravitating towards it when nothing else was on, and I started discovering the real reason for watching the show: to criticize the buyers.

Since most of the buyers were first-timers, it’s pretty funny how wildly optimistic they are about the properties they can get for their crap budgets.  Some of them have these weird particularities that they cannot live with/without.  Sometimes their desires are contradictory.

• “I absolutely cannot live with white kitchen cabinets!”
• “I have to live next to a golf course.”
• “I want a house that’s in the city, with a huge yard and balconies, with a beach view in a great neighborhood.  I live in San Diego, and my budget is 150K.  I found $2.64 behind my dresser, if that helps.”

Sometimes we get an episode where the fragility of the relationship is exposed.  Husband and wife openly bicker in each property, almost coming to blows. You wonder if they should even be together, let alone buying a property together.

My absolute least favorite episodes are the ones where it’s some young couple that’s 3 months married and not planning on kids for 30 years and they’re looking at these monstrous houses with 4,000 or 5,000 square feet.  What on earth are they going to do with that space?  Are they planning on inviting herds of homeless people to come live in it with them?  Our home is 1800 square feet, and we moved into it when we had no kids.  There are 3 bedrooms, and it just felt like a huge waste, because we just chucked stuff into one of the bedrooms, and the other we chucked stuff in it but also the desk, so it was the “office”.  We only got use out of it when someone came to visit, but otherwise it just sat there.  I felt bad having so much space, after years of enduring lectures about not wasting and letting things “fulfill the measure of their creation”.  I almost invited a homeless guy with a heroin problem to come crash at our place, and maybe please just this once not steal anything.  Of course, once we had kids, those rooms fulfilled the measure of their creation real quick-like.

Anyway, these couples have ridiculous budgets which make me wonder where on earth they are getting all that money from, and the houses they visit are just awesome.  3 or more car garages, stone exteriors, nice interiors, huge kitchens, and plenty of space to chase your kid around in.  A place big enough that you can leave your measuring tape at home when you go to Target.  Plenty of space for a Hansen family reunion.  Ha!  Just kidding.  That’s not possible.

So these couples visit these places and point out the dumbest flaws.

• “The master suite has too many windows.”
• “I would prefer more of a eggshell white than a rat dropping white for the bathroom.”
• “I don’t get a ‘homey’ vibe here-it’s too big.” (but then they choose the biggest house of the 3)

I could go on a long tangent of “this is what’s wrong with our country today”, but I’ll spare you.  For now.
My favorite episodes, besides the couples on the verge of divorce, are the ones where we suspect that the family is Mormon, so we spend the whole episode looking for clues.  Is that a CTR ring?  Did I see a temple picture on the wall?  Did they just call the realtor “Brother”?  Are those sleeves long enough for garments?” Most of the time it turns out they’re not Mormon, or they’re sinning like crazy, whatever, but when we’re right it’s like winning at “Clue”.

Like everybody else who watches, we try to guess which property the buyers choose in the end.  I take a few factors into consideration, like how much “character” they want, how inflexible they are about location, and how much they like/hate dinner parties.  I don’t want to brag or anything, but I’m wrong just about every time.

The reveal at the end is my favorite part of the show.  When the buyers are touring their prospective houses, they mention all of these things that they couldn’t ever live with, like a pink bathroom or brass fixtures or carpet in the bedroom.  Then of course in the reveal, they’ve changed maybe one of those things and just bought a bunch of new furniture.  To be fair, they only have a couple of weeks to make changes.

I wish they would have follow up episodes a couple years down the road and check in on the buyers.  What changes did they make?  Which percentage of the couples stayed married?  Which houses got foreclosed on?  I would at least like a rating of how much they regretted their decision to go with the “fixer-upper” instead of the “move-in ready”.  This is how I imagine the follow-up episodes would go:

• “Oh yeah, this place is a freaking dump.  We bought it 2 years ago because my wife insisted on a house with ‘character’ and now we have amassed 30K in home equity loans and the house still smells like old people.”
• “We had to sell our 4,500 square foot monster because we realized we were only 2 people and all of our stuff fits in two rooms.  We lost 50K after all was said and done.  My arms are still sore from all that vacuuming.”
• “Oh, her?  That’s not my wife.  We divorced after 2 months of arguing about brushed nickel versus chrome hardware.  This is my new girlfriend, Charly.  I met her in a…let’s say chat room.”
• “And here’s the master bathroom.  You may remember from the original airing of our episode that the walls were pink and the fixtures were all brass, which we hated.  Well, it’s exactly the same.  My lazy husband hasn’t done anything but watch sports and shed body hair everywhere.”

The real moral of the story is that Mel and I grow much closer together with each episode.  Maybe it’s because we appreciate each other’s reason and feel good about our own house.  Or maybe because we look down on everybody with a false sense of superiority.

Validating Kobe...sort of

I wanted to write this post in August, when it was topical, but things got a bit busy then.  The female readers will again be disappointed with a sports post, but this is the last one in a while-I promise.

My favorite team in all of sports to follow is BYU football.  Then it's BYU basketball.  Next is not the Cardinals, or the Colts, or the Jazz, but the US Men's Basketball team.  Ever since the Dream Team, I've loved how much we'd just clobber the other teams, unapologetically.  It's nice to cheer for a team full of outrageous athletes that you know is going to win 99% of the time, especially when your other teams are filled with slow white guys who consistently choke in big games.

In '92, I followed the Dream Team like everyone else, but didn't see many of the games.  I do remember how awesome Sir Charles was, and how Jordan didn't seem to do that much.  It was great to see all the awesome players on the court at once, but the thrill disappeared for the '96 games.  That team was also pretty amazing, but it was getting tedious to us, so we didn't really care, and the elite players didn't, either.  In '00 we barely won, and the team wasn't much fun to watch.  At the World Champ-ships in '02, we finally lost.  It was embarrassing.  We were trotting out terrible players like Baron Davis et al, and the games were just brutal to watch.  We tried to fix it by the Olympics in '04, but that team played the same way: A bunch of slashers who couldn't shoot.  The world had caught up to us, playing tough, team defense, and schooled us when we tried to use our raw athleticism on the defensive end.

In 2006, we resolved to change that.  In the forefront was my archenemy, Kobe Bryant.  He pledged to play for the team, and that made being on the team "cool" again.  Lots of young stars like Chris Paul, Lebron James, and others wanted in because of that.  So they played in the World Champ-ships, but lost to Greece in the finals, which required them to play in the Americas tournament against some real crap opponents in 2007.  I loved watching all of those games, as I never get tired of a blowout.  I also found myself loving Kobe and D-Wade, even though during the NBA season I can't stand them.  It's a complicated relationship.

In 2008, they won the gold medal, and in 2010 the World Champ-ship with an entirely different team.  They combined those 2 teams for 2012, and of course, won the gold medal again.  During this process, Kobe declared that this team was better than the original Dream Team in '92.  During a slow news time, this became a huge story.  His Airness, Mr. Jordan, mocked his statement, and others did, too.  Scottie Pippen came on air during an exhibition game and said the original Dream Team would beat this team by at least 25 points.  His Highness, Mr. Obama, said "it wouldn't be close".  Future opponent and silver medalist Marc Gasol said they would beat this team by 15 points, even on an off-night.

Lebron came to Kobe’s defense and backed it up, with less of an outcry.  I’m not sure why.  But it seemed to me that it was the age-old argument of old-school versus new-school.  The older generation starts reminiscing about “the good old days” when houses were built sturdier, athletes weren’t money-hungry jerks, and society wasn’t nearly as bad as it is today.  But I feel that most of us tend to romanticize our past, myself included, and focus on only good things.  Certainly, the present has its problems, but so did the past.  I personally believe that most things are improving in the arena of sports, the economy, and technology.  Other areas like politics, society’s morals, and raising kids is something that I’m not going to touch.  Technology is obvious-no reason for a debate there.  Business is better in general, prices are relatively lower, things are more affordable, even including this recession.  Sports is harder to tell, as the athletes as a collective improve in each era.  If you put Albert Pujols, with all his modern day training, in the MLB during Babe Ruth’s era, would he be better than The Babe?  The only thing that’s obvious is that the times are getting faster in Olympic events.

Once someone retires from a sport, his game immediate improves.  With each year that passes, he gets better.  How many Bill Russell anecdotes have I heard where every one of his blocks were kept in bounds?  Really?  Every one of his blocks?  How come not one shot-blocker is able to do that today?  There is basically zero televised evidence of this, so it goes unchecked.  Also, how terrible were the players back then that blocking their shots was so easy that the shot blocker could direct the path of their block?

I watched a BYU game on BYUTV once from 1979.  I’m not sure why they were showing it, and I can’t remember who they were playing.  But Jay Monsen and his immortal monotone were announcing the game.  Danny Ainge was on the team, and there was no 3-point line.  Pretty much nobody guarded anyone from outside of 12 feet.  And the shooting was terrible, including Danny.  Maybe it was just that game, but it was painful to watch.  At one point, someone shot from about where the current college 3-point line was, and Jay said “From 25 feet out!”  Obviously, there was no sense of distance once you got past the free throw line.

So I’m of the opinion that today’s athletes are, collectively, better than yesterday’s.  However, the Dream Team is a small sample of the very best of the NBA of that time.  When you look at the names on the roster, it’s a staggering collection of immortals.  Bird, Magic, MJ, Sir Charles, The Mailman, etc.  One thing that’s rarely mentioned is that Bird could barely move in 1992, and Magic had been out the whole season.  MJ was indeed at the top of his game, and so was Sir Charles.

Once Kobe made his statement, I had to defend it.  Why?  Not because I somehow liked Kobe, but because I hate Jordan.  I've always hated Jordan, watching him dismantle all the teams, and because all the front-runner trendy kids from Jr High liked him.  When he retired the first time, I was super glad and didn't feel at all that I missed him.  When he came back and destroyed my Jazz in '97 and '98, I was devastated.  Then he retired again, but then came back in 2001.  That was awesome, to watch this old dude do pretty much nothing all season, with terrible stats.  The highlight was when he missed a wide-open dunk in the All-Star game.  The arrogance of Jordan, to think that after 3 years of sitting around, he could just come back and be any good!  His defining moment of who Jordan is as a person was his Hall of Fame speech.  It was 10 minutes of awkward come-uppance.  We, as a society, worshipped him for 2 decades and he still had to point out all the people that maybe said something once that could be construed as negative or constructive criticism.  I loved it.  Jordan's failures at Charlotte while Bird was successful at Indiana was icing on the cake.  Watching an arrogant prick fail isn't something I should enjoy, but I can't help it.

At the height of his arrogance, Jordan claims that he was the best, and nobody will ever be better, and he also said that about the Dream Team.  Now I am certainly the first to admit that the Dream Team was awesome, but I just can't bring myself to say that nobody will ever be better.  It's just like the old-timers who hold on to Bill Russell or Wilt or whatever.  Sure, they were good, and maybe us youngsters can't appreciate it, but you have to allow for new players to possibly be better.  Jordan's prime was in the 90's, and I did quite a lot of basketball-watching then, so I feel qualified to compare him against today's stars.

However, I tried to be as objective as possible while watching this year's team.  Would they actually beat the Dream Team?  Anecdotally, the Dream Team was sculpted by the hand of Zeus from the peaks of Mount Olympus.  But were they really that good?  Statistically, the 2012 team was a better shooting team.  A few computer-generated analyses pitted the two teams against each other, with the 1992 team coming out on top in each instance, albeit by a very close margin.

So I decided to compare the teams against each other, matching the players and seeing how they compare.  The numbers to the right represent the advantage of the 2012 team against the Dream Team:

Laettner, Christian	Anthony Davis	1
Robinson, David	Tyson Chandler	-3
Ewing, Patrick	Kevin Durant	4
Bird, Larry	James Harden	2
Pippen, Scottie	Carmelo Anthony	-3
Jordan, Michael	LeBron James	-1
Drexler, Clyde	Russell Westbrook	-2
Malone, Karl	Andre Iguodala	-3
Stockton, John	Chris Paul	2
Mullin, Chris	Deron Williams	2
Barkley, Charles	Kevin Love	-2
Johnson, Magic	Kobe Bryant	2

Keep in mind that this is the team as it was during their respective Olympics - not during their primes.
Laettner vs Davis - Laettner, as we all know, was worthless as an NBA player, while Davis hasn't even had a chance.  Davis, in my opinion, will become one of the greatest players of his generation, but of course, we don't know that yet.  However, Laettner was so terrible that I have to give Davis a 1 point edge.  The likelihood of Davis having a career as bad as Laettner is very low.

Robinson vs Chandler - I'm not the hugest Chandler fan, but he is a good defender.  Robinson had both the defensive and offensive abilities, which is why I've given him a 3 point advantage over Chandler.  I actually was never really that impressed with Robinson, and thought that Duncan was a far superior player, but I will concede that he is a much better option than Chandler.

Ewing vs Durant - Ewing, to me, was one of the most overrated players of the 90's.  I watched my Pacers play series after series against the Knicks, and I was more scared of John Starks than Ewing.  Sure, his stats looked good, but he was easily countered by the Davis boys, Antonio and Dale, and even Rik Smits.  Comparing him against Durant is a little unfair, because Durant is an amazing scorer, and is the 2nd best player today.  By the time he's done, he will be in the conversation with Jordan and Lebron as the best player ever.  I'm not sure we're appreciating Durant as much as we should be right now.

Bird vs Harden - Larry Bird was pretty much useless with his back injuries, which is why I've given James Harden, who is probably the worst player on the 2012 team, the advantage.  Larry Legend is certainly one of the all-time greats and also a great guy, but by all accounts he couldn't do much for the Dream Team.

Pippen vs Melo - Melo certainly has his moments, specifically against Nigeria with his amazingly hot hand, but for against top-notch competition he has a tendency to keep shooting when he's off.  However, when he wants to, his defense and rebounding are pretty good.  Pippen, to me, is one of the more underrated players of the 90's, as he proved how good he was when Jordan left.  A 3 point advantage for Pippen against Melo is pretty generous, but I think he deserves it.

Jordan vs Lebron - This argument will gain more and more traction as Lebron piles up more titles.  In the afterglow of Jordan's dominating career, we started remembering him more as a basketball God than someone who was simply an electric player.  Jordan was great, and I agree he's the best player ever, but he somehow is remembered to be better as each year goes by.  Lebron is currently playing, and was picked apart during every offseason until this year, because he finally won a title.  Lebron's ceiling, in my opinion, is higher than what Jordan ever achieved, but it will still be a while until he reaches it, if he does at all.  Maybe he's too nice a guy.  All I know is that Lebron is a much better person that MJ, and I was super glad that he changed his number from 23 to 6.  I still give MJ the edge because Lebron isn't there yet, but it's only by 1 point.

Drexler vs Westbrook - I remember Drexler being pretty awesome, so I'm a big fan.  I'm also not a huge fan of Westbrook, because he is so turnover prone and doesn't know how to pass.  There is nothing more frustrating than rooting for a team with Westbrook on it.  On one possession, he steals the ball from the opponent's best player and does an amazing dunk on the other end.  On the next possession, he dribbles uncontrollably down the court, passes up a wide open Durant for 3, and throws up some terrible shot.  I only gave Drexler a 2 point advantage because Westbrook's defense is so great.

Malone vs Iguodala – I never cared for Iguodala until the 2010 World Championships.  It was then that he played like the Ultimate Team Player.  Insanely tough on D, knew his role, didn’t take bad shots, he was, in my opinion, the 2nd most important player on that team, 2nd to Durant.  So it hurts me to give him a 3 point disadvantage to Malone.  I love the Jazz, but I’m still bitter at Malone – not for playing for the Lakers in his last season, but for choking so epically against the Bulls in the ’97 and ’98 Finals.  In ’97, I can forgive-it was his first Finals and he was just happy to be there.  In ’98, however, the Jazz had the best team in the NBA and deserved to dethrone the Bulls.  But, regardless, Malone was a great rebounder, passer, defender, and a decent shooter.

Stockton vs Paul – Stockton has a special place in my heart for NOT choking in the playoffs, or the Finals.  He was the MVP of the Jazz both those years, in the playoffs.  A great passer, knew when to start calling his own number.  But, frankly, Chris Paul, when healthy, and he was healthy during these Olympics, is just one of the awesomest point guards ever.  He’s a great shooter, defender, passer, everything.  I have to give New School 2 points here.

Mullin vs Williams – When Deron was on the Jazz, I thought he was better than CP3.  But now I have to give a lot of that credit to Sloan’s system, which could also be said for John Stockton.  What if Chris Paul played for Sloan?  Could he have been simply amazing in that system?  Anyway, I still love Deron, and he’s a great point guard.  Mullin is one of the overrated players of that generation, along with Ewing.  I don’t care what his stats looked like, I was never impressed by him.  Maybe it was his haircut.  It’s worth noting that Mullin is now one of my favorite announcers in basketball.  I’d take him over Van Gundy even.  But maybe not Stan Van Gundy.  I have a feeling Stan is going to be much better than Jeff at complaining about the refs.

Barkley vs Love – I love Love and I love Barkley.  Love didn’t play too well at times during the Olympics, whereas Barkley was the best (and most entertaining) player on the Dream Team.  I only give Barkley 2 points because I think Love is really that good.  There’s a lot of room to argue this.

Magic vs Kobe – In the battle of Laker greats, I have to give Kobe the edge here.  Mostly because Magic didn’t even play that season, and was invited back on the team after the whole HIV scare died down.  Kobe certainly showed some signs of aging in these Olympics, so I’d give Aging Kobe a 2 point edge over Rusty Magic.  This truly pains me, since Kobe’s pettiness only rivals Jordan’s.

When you add up the totals, you get a 3 point edge for the Dream Team.  So do I think the Dream Team would beat the ’12 team by 3 points every single game?  Of course not, sit down!  Basketball is such an interesting game because it is prone to upset.  That’s why we see upsets most every March.  One team matches up well with another, gets hot, and upsets a much better team.  So I think the Dream Team would be a 3 point favorite.

But the more interesting question is, who would win in a 7 game series?  I say the Dream Team in 6.  The 2012 team’s ferocious perimeter defense would give them a victory, and then the hot shooting of Melo and Durant would give them another game.  Kobe’s selfishness would cost them a game, and 2 games would be won by the Dream Team because of the dominating size of the “bigs”. Game 6 would come down to a showdown between Lebron and Jordan, but Jordan’s competitive edge would get the best of Lebron.  All the games would be within 10 points, and competitive from start to finish.  So, old-timers, are you happy?  The old school beat the new school!

Now that that’s clear, we can move onto the real question:  Who would win in a fist-fight between George Costanza and Jerry Seinfeld?

The Cutest Almost Three Year Old

That's right, I went there. And when you watch these videos you will agree.

To fully appreciate the cuteness of this first video the required reading is "The Belly Button Book" by Sandra Boynton. It's awesome, trust me.

And this second one is just pure Hendrik Awesomeness. He's got some serious moves.

Adelaide Alice Arrives in August

How's that for alliteration!

I'm thinking that at this point in our little blog's life I now count as a guest blogger on here...so in that case, I'm honored that Kent has asked me to post this month. Although he did have to give me a stern lecture that it MUST be posted before August 31st.

Anyway, it figures that I'm only asked to guest blog when the post could be characterized as a "mommy post", but whatever. I'll take my opportunities where I can. Fair warning: this post is all about the new baby...

While we accomplish awesome things every single day, our greatest achievement of late was the successful arrival of our little girl, Adelaide Alice. For the name game, we selected Adelaide simply because we both liked it and it hasn't been one of the top 100 most popular names, EVER. Kent did start to have reservations when we found out that Katherine Heigl just named her new baby Adalaide, but I assured him it still wouldn't become that popular. So when she goes to Kindergarten and there are five other Adelaide's in her class I'll have to eat some serious crow. Anyway, Adelaide is a german name that means "of noble kin" which seems like it will suit her just fine. We chose Alice as her middle name in honor of her Aunt Alice who passed away in May. We are really honored that Kurt was willing to let us do that. We're really hoping that Adelaide will feel some connection to her aunt and adopt some of her exemplary traits - any or all of them will do!

The official due date was August 23rd, but since Hendrik came a week early I was figuring that she would be a bit early as well. The labor and delivery with Hendrik was a drawn out event - contractions for two days before and almost 3 hours of pushing - so we were planning for another long haul. I decided I wasn't even going to pack a bag beforehand this time because that way it would give me a distraction while I was waiting out contractions. So naturally it didn't go at all like we thought it would.

I woke up at my normal time of 5:30am on August 14th to get ready for work. I had sort of felt a contraction just before I got out of bed, but it wasn't very strong so I didn't think much of it. I got in the shower and felt a few more contractions there, so I started debating whether or not I should take my regular train. I decided I could just wait it out a bit and take the later train or drive in with Kent. I put on some sweats and went downstairs to send out a few emails. The contractions continued to come about every 5 minutes, slowly increasing in intensity. Kent came down around 6:30 and was surprised to see me not at all ready for work. Eventually the contractions were feeling strong and frequent enough that we decided to call my doctor's office. The midwife called us back around 8:10 and told us we could head over to the hospital. We dropped Hendrik off at daycare on the way and made it to the hospital around 8:30. My midwife checked me and found that I was already at 6cm, which was a relief to me considering the amount of pain I was in. I walked over to the labor and delivery room, only having to pause once in the hallway for a contraction. They were in the process of ordering the epidural when the nurse noticed I might be progressing faster than we thought. Sure enough, the midwife returned, checked me, and I was fully dilated. She broke my water and asked if I still wanted to wait for the epidural. Part of me wanted to, but I knew I'd probably have to wait at least another half hour, so I opted out. I don't think I really had much choice anyway because about 10 minutes later Adelaide made her grand debut.

That's right, I'm not afraid of an unflattering picture. I'm more proud of the fact that I'm not swollen, puffy, or bruised this time!

So far Hendrik seems pretty enamored with his baby sister. He often asks where she is and grows concerned when she cries. When we place her in the swing he's always right by her side, making sure the swing is rocking her correctly and handing her toys to "play" with. Hopefully he continues to show an interest in being the loving, protective, older brother.

First time meeting each other - Hendrik immediately wanted to hold her.

Naptime with Daddy

Heading home!

Snuggle time!

Becoming a pro!

Guest Post - Biggest Games

My brother Bruce, who's a long-time reader, first-time poster, requested that I give up one of my monthly blog entries for a guest spot.  I personally think that the timing is poor, since nobody reads this blog anymore, including my wife, except Kurt.  To whom we are grateful for.  Anyway, his stories below are well-written and interesting, and let's not pretend you have anything better to do.  Really?  You'd rather look at Facebook status updates than this?  Let me just tell you what's going on in your "friends" lives:

"Just got back from DQ!  Yummers!"
"My little cutie pie Braden just called his stuffed duck 'Ducky'!  I am so blessed..."
"Please fwd this link, this message needs to be heard...http://wp-content/uploads/2009/10/"

See?  Nothing is happening.  So read this post that Bruce has been working on for, well, his entire life.  It's all I ask.  Plus, I've read it, edited it for vulgar language (he didn't use ANY) and 80's pop-culture references (nobody knows who Caspar Weinberger is, Bruce), so it should be good to go.  With that, the floor is Bruce's:



********************************************************
Recently my 9-year-old son Clyn played in the championship game of his
indoor soccer team's 6-team division. Seeing his disappointment
afterwards when they lost brought back memories of some of the biggest
games I've played in in my life. (Warning: None of these games are
that big. But they were big for me.) So I thought it would be
interesting to put together a list of the biggest games I've ever
played in, and what the outcome was. And since, if I put that into one
of my newsletter emails I would ensure that no one would ever read
another one again, I thought that Kent's blog would be the perfect
place to put it. Especially since the topic fits well into the main
themes of this blog: (a) stories from childhood, and (b) lists.

Please note that the intent of this entry is to list games that were
big games going in. Some games start small but become big, even epic,
over the course of the game. Those are not listed here, but it sounds
like a great topic for a different entry.

1980: (Game 1) Cubs vs. A's; (Game 2) Cubs playoff game. Southport, IN

When I was 8, I played in my first kid-pitch league in Southport,
Indiana. I was on the Cubs. I pitched half the time and played
shortstop the other half. Yeah, I was pretty good. I don't remember
hitting too many balls on offense, but in the first year of kid-pitch,
nobody hits much of anything.

I remember two big games from that year. The first was at the end of
the regular season. We were playing the mighty A's, who were
undefeated. Among their players was a friend of mine from my
neighborhood, I think his name was Wally. Short kid, but a good
athlete. This further raised the stakes, of course.

We got out to an early lead. I pitched the last two innings. This was
Pee-Wee, so every batter came up every inning; two innings is a pretty
good workload. Going into the last inning, we still held to a slim
lead. I remember running out to the mound while the loudspeakers
blasted Iron Maiden and the scoreboard flashed "Game Over". Just
kidding. I remember just concentrating as hard as I could on each
batter and making sure I got the ball over the plate. When one kid
came up to the plate with baseball pants on, I added some extra
velocity. Struck him out looking. After each retired batter, my
alternate SS/pitcher (Mark Bumps, I can't believe I still remember his
name) came up to the mound and yelled out, "4 down, 5 to go!" or
whatever the case was. I think I ended up striking out the last kid
and pandemonium ensued. We had beaten the undefeated A's.

It wasn't until after the game that I realized that the A's actually
weren't that good, and that the whole secret to their success was that
they were a bunch of short kids (like my friend Wally), so they all
just walked around the bases. Still felt good to beat 'em.

A couple of weeks later we were in the playoffs. They had us playing
on the big kids' field, with a grass infield (and the bases actually
on the grass, since they were only 60' apart), and it was a night
game--more drama. Again in the last inning I was brought on to pitch
to protect a slim lead. The thing I remember about that inning was
just being baffled at how I couldn't throw it past their batters. I
was pretty much used to the fact that, if I threw a pitch as hard as I
could and it actually went over the plate, no one would hit it. But
this happened repeatedly in this game. Sure, they didn't hit it hard,
but at that level, if you put it in play, you were on.

Finally the bases were loaded and they had a tough-looking hitter at
the plate. This time I was determined. I rared back and fired it
literally as hard as I could. He still hit a grounder down the
3rd-base line. I don't remember what our fielder did, but the winning
run came in. I was pretty disappointed knowing the season was over,
and also knowing we were moving to Texas and so I wouldn't be on that
team any more. It also proved to be the last real baseball game I ever
pitched.

Nov. 1981: Texans vs. Tornadoes, city championship. Plano, TX

This is actually probably the biggest game on this list. In Plano,
Texas, soccer was king. (Kind of funny how Indiana is famous for
basketball and Texas is famous for football, but my experience in
those places was baseball and soccer, respectively.) And there was
nothing bigger than playing for the city championship. I seriously
think I can say without exaggeration that for a 9-year-old kid in
Plano, playing for the city championship was as big as playing in the
Final Four would be for a college basketball player.

We were playing the Tornadoes, a team I despised. We had played them
before in other seasons. We had tied them, but never beaten them. They
had one player on their team who reminds me now of Steven Wollaston,
who will appear later on this list: a punk but an amazing athlete.

We lost, 2-0. Never could get the ball in the net. I don't remember
too much about the game. I just remember I left everything on the
field. One of the teachers from our school came to watch the game
because several of her students were on our team. Afterwards she said
that she had never seen kids play so hard for something in her life.
This was small consolation to me at the time. "Well, duh," I thought.
"It's the city championship." Today I remember that statement with
pride.

1987: Church basketball regional final.

We moved to Utah, and my thoughts soon turned to basketball. Although
I came close, I didn't make the school teams, so I became the
stereotypical Church-ball hero. Our ward was always loaded with good
players, and we won stake all four years I played, I believe, although
there was always a rival team that came close. The 1st ward one year,
the 4th ward another, the 5th another.

My freshman year was the only year we made it to the finals of the
Regional tournament. As a freshman, I didn't play a starring role, but
I got some pretty good PT. The team we played in the finals was
awfully good, though, and had a sizable lead at halftime. The second
half I came off the bench and scored 10 points to lead a furious
rally. I hit a couple of outside shots and even had a behind-the-back
assist that I was quite thrilled with. We ended up falling short, but
I had a positive feeling about having played well.

1986-90: Church volleyball regional finals vs. 4th Ward

Yes, those dates are correct. We played in the volleyball regional
finals 5 straight years, all against the 4th ward from our same stake.
It was quite the rivalry, as you might imagine. Obviously, there
weren't too many other wards that got into volleyball, but there were
enough to put up a decent resistance on our way to the finals and make
the tourney legit.

The 4th ward had the aforementioned Steve W. This guy could have
played on the national team, as far as I was concerned. He was
surrounded by a bevy of less talented but dedicated bevs. Our team was
generally deeper, but without the big stud. Although I remember Tom
Williams as being a bit of a freak in v-ball.

The first year we lost in an epic showdown, but we responded by
winning the next four--count 'em and weep, baby, four--years in a row.
How did you get in 5 years of eligibility, you ask? Medical redshirt?
Well no, actually, the last year I coached. And if I can coach a team
starting John Valentine to the regional championship, well, I deserve
to call that championship my own. Actually give John credit--he made
the stuff-block on the final play to win the last championship.

1988: Softball stake championships vs. 5th ward.

By the summer of 1988 our ward sports team was a bit of a juggernaut,
having won seven straight stake championships across all sports
(basketball, softball, and volleyball). But softball is always a bit
of a crapshoot, depending so much on attendance, and that summer our
team was decimated by vacations. Plus, the 5th ward seemed to have
declared it their collective life's ambition to win softball that
summer, demonstrating their devotion by arriving at least an hour
early to every game and even holding regular practices. I think they
also sacrificed a goat before each game. The following is condensed
from my highly detailed journal account of July 14, 1988.

We limped into the double-elimination stake tourney and promptly lost
to the 5th ward. We fought through the losers' bracket to get to the
semi-finals against the 2nd ward, and by then we had most of our guys
back. It didn't seem to do much good, though, as we found ourselves
down 8-4 going into the bottom of the 7th, the last inning (these
church softball games were surprisingly defensive-oriented). Unless we
came up with 4 runs, our season was over; we wouldn't even go to the
region tournament. I led off with a single, then later scored when
Mike Wall hit a 3-run homer. We then loaded the bases with two outs
and pushed across the tying run. I was coaching 3rd base and told
Carter Cherry to run as soon as Shane Wallace hit the ball. To this
day I am convinced that their pitcher heard me (and hence I am the
true hero here), because Shane hit a grounder back to the pitcher, who
fielded it cleanly, but rather than going to first (two outs,
remember), threw it to their uncoordinated catcher, who dropped the
ball as inevitably as the day follows night, and Carter raced across
with the winning run.

Somehow this drama was actually surpassed in the following game
against the 5th ward (which was a "conditional" championship game; we
had to beat them twice). They hit a grand slam over my head in the
1st, then scored two more on another hit over my head in the 6th. So
going into the 7th we were down 7-2. A key play in that inning had
John Sorenson on third with Neil at the plate. Neil hit a grounder to
short and John tore home. The genius first baseman for the 5th ward
took off to cover home, because of course they had an uncoordinated
catcher. But he was no match for John's speed, and the shortstop, who
naturally just wanted to throw it to first, had nowhere to go. So once
again we see uncoordinated catchers playing decisive roles at critical
junctures. The next key moment saw runners on second and third with
two outs, 7-5 score, and Shane Wallace up again. He hit a grounder up
the middle, plating two and tying the score. Brett Bailey then doubled
Shane home, and I doubled Brett home, though I was tagged out trying
to stretch it into a triple. No matter; we led 9-7, and we got the
bottom third of their lineup out 1-2-3, with me making a fadeaway
catch to end the game to partially atone for the earlier hits over my
head.

All that just to get to the championship game! The 5th ward showed up
two hours early for batting practice; we had 6 guys there at
game-time. We found three more players but had to play with 9 (with
one automatic out) until the 4th inning, when a leader scrounged up an
obligatory uncoordinated catcher for us (our official scorecard always
marked this player as UCC). In the meantime, the game was a defensive
struggle, with me catching most of their outs in left field, a common
scenario against the 5th ward since they're all pull hitters. We clung
to a 3-2 lead heading into the 7th when I came up with two outs and
one on. The 5th ward coach, who knew every one of our players'
tendencies to a T, knew that I liked to drop singles in front of the
left fielder, so he moved him in. I saw him do that, and so I promptly
drilled the first pitch over the left fielder's head for a home run
and a 5-2 lead. They threatened in the bottom half, but Shane Wallace
made a nice catch for the third out and the championship.

1989: Basketball regional quarterfinals vs. 4th ward.

This is my most painful memory in sports. As a junior, I was one of
the team leaders, and we had a successful stake season. I dreaded
facing our arch-rivals the 4th ward, though, in the regions, but sure
enough, our brackets brought us together. We started out the game
well, but in the 4th quarter the 4th ward mounted a furious comeback.
They were running out of time, so they started to foul, and I can at
least say that I did make 4-of-4 free throws in the last quarter. But
once again the infamous Steve Wollaston hit an incredible 3-pointer
that tied it late. We failed to score, and then they came back and hit
a free throw with just a few seconds left. The second one was missed,
though, and the ball bounced out and into my hands so fortuitously
that we actually had kind of a semi-break opportunity going the other
way. I dribbled down the right side of the key and saw Sam Dallin wide
open under the left side of the basket. To this day I don't know what
happened to me. My brain seized up. I looked up at the basket and
suddenly felt like I totally had that shot. I shot a leaner going away
from the hoop...and it wasn't even close. Might have been an air-ball.
Sam wisely fouled the guy on the rebound, but the game was over. An
excruciating loss. And made worse by the fact that my teammates were,
understandably, largely unsympathetic to my pain afterwards. My family
drove home in silence afterwards and, after my Dad had checked to make
sure I wasn't actually suicidal, he left me in the back of the station
wagon for the next hour, howling intermittently.

To this day I find it hard to talk about or think about that game,
which I admit is a bit strange. But I was comforted some years ago in
college when I talked to my friend Earl about it late on a Sunday
night. He had his own story which he said was still hard for him to
talk about. A few years after that I heard about how, after losing an
absolutely epic college football game to USC, Notre Dame coach Charlie
Weiss went with his son to the USC locker room afterwards and told
them that it was an honor to have played in such a game. I think that
someone who has that attitude even in defeat is one who truly
understands the purpose and meaning of sports. Perhaps it was, after
all, an honor for me to have played in such a basketball game.

1997: BYU Intramural Coed Softball championship game

After high school and the mish I returned to BYU, where intramural
sports was king. I don't think I even thought about intramural sports
when I first started college, but once I discovered it, I was all in.
I played flag football, soccer, basketball, softball, racquetball,
ultimate frisbee, even--get this--intramural sports trivia. The prize
dangling at the end of all these games was the coveted intramural
champs t-shirt, greatest status symbol on campus. But it had eluded me
up until this game. Never mind that it was coed softball, man: a shirt
is a shirt.

Just getting to the game was a bit dramatic. The morning of, we were
at the Broadbent Family Reunion in the Sierra Nevadas of California.
Fortunately, said reunion was ending. Neil and I got up at the crack
of dawn and drove like men possessed so I could make it to the game on
time. When I showed up at the field before the game started, Travis
Ficklin was so happy to see us that he kissed me on the ear. Could
have done without that.

The game itself was anti-climactic. I was nervous for the first 5
minutes or so, but it soon became clear that our opponents were not in
our league. We destroyed them, and I think that we had even
mathematically clinched the win (owing to the quirks of BYU coed
softball rules, which I loved) before the last inning started.
Receiving the t-shirt afterwards, I felt like how Peyton Manning
probably felt when he finally won the Super Bowl: Somehow I thought it
would be more than this.

1996, 1998: Two BYU Intramurals Ultimate Frisbee finals.

Ultimate Frisbee was always kind of a side-show for me, but somehow I
got involved in two huge intramural championship games in that sport.
The first one was really the most memorable. Our ward liked to play
frisbee in our spare time at Joaquin Elementary (R.I.P.), so naturally
we got an intramural team together. We did okay during the regular
season, and then the tourney started. The very first team we played
was incredibly intimidating. They had a guy who could throw it the
entire length of the field, and a couple of other big guys. We hung in
there with possession-based ball control. Somehow we kept up with them
and forced sudden-death overtime. They turned it over out the back of
our end zone, and then we commenced the longest drive in history.
Seriously, this must have gone on for at least five minutes. Short
passes, all the way down the field. If you didn't have it, pass it
back. We knew if we turned it over, we would lose. Finally we just
wore the other team down, and Glen Waldron made the winning catch at
the back of the end zone. Pandemonium ensued. Walking off the field, I
heard a ref say, "Well, that was the proverbial 16th seed beating the
number 1 seed, wasn't it?"

That game gave us confidence in our system. The next game was another
battle, but again we prevailed. We won one more game to make it to the
championship game. We, a bunch of scrubs from Moon Apartments, were
poised to take the t-shirt. The team that emerged from the losers
bracket was not the first team we beat ("the #1 seed"), but the
second. This was not, however, good news. As we quickly found, the
second team was actually better than the first. We just didn't realize
it the first time we played them, and in our ignorance, just played
them like anybody else and beat them.

The second time around, though, they had us figured out. They had to
beat us twice, and did so without even breaking a sweat. They put on a
two-hour clinic for us that left us shaking our heads and wondering,
"How did we beat these guys?"

Two years later my friend Earl recruited me for another Ultimate
Frisbee team. It kind of seemed like a slam dunk at the time; lower
division, and he knew a couple of ringers. We breezed into the
championship game, but the team we played refused to roll over. It
turned into an absolutely epic match. Ultimate Frisbee games have the
tendency to do that, because you're running constantly and it requires
a heroic effort to finish it off. The final game also went into
overtime, and I remember one throw in particular by one of our ringers
that came within inches of being caught for the clinching score. But
it wasn't caught, and we ended up losing another gut-wrencher.

So Ultimate Frisbee ended up just being a heart-breaker for me, but
fortunately I never invested too much time in it, so it didn't feel as
bad. At least, not after a couple of days.

2002: Provo City Coed Softball championship game

The final game on this list almost never happened for me. Like the
other coed softball game described above, I woke up the day of the
game far away from the ball field: Portland, Maine, to be precise. I
had a plan for getting back, of course, but the problem was that it
was out of my hands. We were flying stand-by, and things looked pretty
good, but I was a little anxious about that first leg from Portland to
Newark. When we arrived at the airport, my worst fears were confirmed:
the flight showed 52/50. We needed 4 no-shows, and those are
relatively rare on a small plane like that.

We checked in and walked to the gate, but I had no hope. I plopped
myself down in a chair and stared miserably at the ceiling. I couldn't
believe that our team had come all that way, and now I was going to
blow my chance at playing in the championship game.

How far had we come? Well, four games into the season we were 2-2. And
we were not surprised to be 2-2. The year before we had had pretty
much the same team, and we finished right on .500. We would
consistently lose to the competent teams and easily beat the pathetic
teams. We were pretty well resigned to our fate.

The 5th game of the season we played not just a competent team but an
awesome team. The Orange Team, we called them, rather imaginatively. I
assumed they would destroy us. But we jumped on them for 5-6 runs in
the first inning and then just held on the rest of the game. I braced
myself for their offensive explosion, but it never came. We ended up
winning a low-scoring game. I assumed it was a fluke. They were
probably missing a couple of guys.

Nonetheless, that game turned the season around for us. We won the
rest of our regular season games to finish 8-2. Still second to the
Orange Team, of course, which finished 9-1. When the tournament
started, we watched other teams play and surmised that we would be
making a quick exit. But we didn't. We won game after game, and when
we played the team I feared most in the semi-finals, we destroyed
them. Destroyed them! I began to think that maybe we could win this
thing after all.

But I wasn't going to be in this thing at all if I couldn't get on
that plane, I reflected miserably, back at the Portland airport. But a
minute later they called our name, and I went from agony to joy in a
split-second--we were on our way home! But then I went from joy back
to agony a few seconds later, as I realized that I was going to play
in the game and the nerves set in.

I don't think I've ever been so nervous for a game. I couldn't eat
beforehand. I finally forced myself to eat a cookie. Bad choice. It
never got all the way down and I ended up throwing it up in left field
before the game started. But the nerves went away when the game
started and the other team (not the Orange Team; these guys had beaten
them) scored a bunch of runs in the first inning and I realized we
weren't going to win anyway.

But like the Frisbee games above, they had to beat us twice. In
between games, I finally got a decent bite to eat. And the umpire came
up to me and discretely told me that he thought we could still take
'em. They just had that one big inning, he said. He liked our team. I
think a lot of people did. We were laid back, except for me I guess,
generally had a good time, and mainly focused on making jokes.
Softball is a great game for jokes.

The second game went much better. We avoided the big inning
defensively and consistently scored on offense. I played a solid if
not spectacular game; I think I was 2-4, and I had a good play in the
outfield where I drifted to my left, lured the batter to try and pull
it, and then took off at the crack of the bat and caught his line
drive right on the foul line. Yes, some satisfaction there. The final
inning we clung to a 3-run lead when we took the field. They got a
couple of runners on, but Holly Ence caught the final two outs as
catcher, behind the plate, to be the hero, and we had finally won.

We went undefeated in the brief Fall season after that. The next
summer we went 9-1 in the regular season and then destroyed the
competition to win another tournament (over the same team in the
championship game, I might add). Overall we won 27 out of 29 games
starting with that win over the Orange Team that I had assumed was a
fluke. We never were the most talented team, but we played smart and
had a good time, and it was one of my favorite teams to ever play
with.

Afterword

Looking back, one clear lesson emerges: I should just stick to
softball. But also writing this entry has caused me to remember all
the great friends I had and made while playing on these teams.
Oftentimes we weren't such great friends off the playing field, but
being on the same team brings you together. Sometimes I'll talk to
someone who nonchalantly says that they were "never into team sports."
I think it's too bad they never experienced the camaraderie of playing
with a bunch of other guys and working toward the common goal of
crushing the opposition.

Presenting...the basement

I finally finished my basement!

You're probably thinking: "Wait, wasn't it already finished?"  You may remember this post from 2009, and figured I must have been done long ago, but didn't post about it.  Well, you're wrong.  I took my sweet time and finally finished it, 2 1/2 years later.  The actual finish date was in March, but of course it took me forever to post about it.  Blogger's dashboard is much better now at uploading pics, I am happy to say, so there's probably way more pics here than anybody would ever want to look at.

Timeline:
August 2009:  Started framing while Mel was at Girl's camp
September 2009:  Finished framing, started electric
October 2009:  Finished electric, did insulation in 1 day, and started drywall
December 2009: Finished drywall, started mudding/sanding
January 2010:  Stopped mudding/sanding, realizing I wanted to drywall the ceiling instead of doing a drop ceiling
Feb/March 2010:  Rains/floods came, 4 inches of water in the basement
April 2010:  Ripped out bottom 4 inches of drywall/insulation.  Dried wood to prevent mold
January 2011:  Got inspected, called out an electrician to redo a few things.  Passed rough inspections
Feb 2011: Redid a few soffits, and built a couple new ones
March 2011: Drywalled the ceiling/soffits.  Asked YM in my ward if he wanted to do the mudding/sanding for 500 bucks
April 2011:  YM in ward gave up.  I gave him 80 bucks for his troubles.
May 2011:  Hired plasterers to plaster all walls instead of mudding/sanding
June 2011:  Painted the basement walls with prime and the base coat of yellow
December/January 2012:  Did the stair railing and stringer, put in the baseboard trim, redid the doors
February/March 2012:  Finishing touches, like filling the seams/cracks/holes, trim around the doors/windows, touch up painting (blue soffits, for example).  Had carpet installed.

You'll notice 2 large breaks, between April 2010 and January 2011, and June to December 2011.  That's when I got sick of working down there, also the summer/fall lawn maintenance is pretty time-consuming.

The overall cost was around 7300.  This is how I estimate it:
Tools:  1000
Materials (wood, drywall, insulation, doors, wire, stair stuff, paint, nails):  3000
Plasterers:  1200
Electrician:  400
Permits: 200
Carpet: 1500

I have no idea how many man-hours were put in, but it was probably significant.  My favorite part was the wiring, framing, and the stair work, in that order.  Drywall wasn't terrible, but got old after a while.  Mudding and sanding was pure death.  Painting was not exactly fun, but not bad.  The trim work was kind of fun, but frustrating too.

I ended up doing a decent amount of rework, with the water damage, soffits, and doors not installed very well the first time around.  The advantage of doing it yourself is that you can take the time to do it right.  The disadvantage is that it takes forever.  Overall, I'm glad I did it myself, as I got to learn a lot, and I enjoyed most of it.  If I ever do another project of this scope again, I will do the framing/electric/insulation myself, then contract out the drywall and plaster, and then do the finish work.

My most valuable tools were my squares and levels, and my "Employees of the Month" (you'll see in pictures below).  I wished I would've spent good money on a 3-foot level, but I didn't.  Also very valuable were the miter saw, drill, utility knife, sanding sponges, large putty knife, and chisel (surprisingly).  My favorite tools were the nailguns, but I didn't use them that often, and were the most costly.

The dimensions of the large room are 23x13.  The hallway is about 12 feet long.  The main purpose of the room will be a toy room for Hendrik and future siblings.  I call it "Hendrik-land" for now.

Here are the before/during/after pics:

When we first moved in - Aug 2008

Adding the vapor barrier and the footer beams - Aug 2009

Midway through framing - Sept 2009

Building the corner soffit - super boxy

After insulation - Oct 2009

Midway thru drywall (you can see that I put drywall right over the door on the right side) - Nov 2009

Done with drywall - Dec 2009.  Note the big boxy green soffit in the corner-more on this later

Flood of March 2010

Post flood, April 2010.  I ripped out the bottom 4 inches of the wall and insulation, letting it dry out and breathe.  I didn't work on the basement for a solid year after this.

Finished product, April 2012.  As you see here, there was a large jump from drywall to finished product, skipping over the mud/plaster, trim, painting, and carpet steps.  You'll see this on all sections of the basement, as I generally forgot to take pictures after the flood, which sucked a lot of life out of me

Same wall, different angle.  You can see that I redid the soffit on the right side, which used to be a big box, instead I angled it and that made it much, much better looking

Looking SE, this next series of pictures will show the wall that came up where that red pole is

You can see the stairs in the background here

Midway through framing.  Where the couch is, I was originally going to put a bathroom there, but scratched that for now.  It's possible in the distant future, depending on how long we're here.

This is a different angle, but this is the south wall and the exterior door, on the west wall.

Drywall, note again the door for the bathroom being drywalled over.  The hallway door is more evident now

The soffit in the left corner ended up being redone to cover more of the pipe, when I decided to go to a drywall ceiling instead of a dropdown

I just painted the pipe and left it exposed.  You can also see the area underneath the stairs was left open

Deciding not to have the dropdown ceiling meant more soffits to cover the various pipes and junk.  We decided to embrace the soffits by painting them blue and adding color to the room.  Note the exterior door doesn't go to the floor, so the baseboard trim goes right under it.

This next section will be the area underneath the stairs, where the yellow insulation is here

As Hendrik would say..."Big mess!"

Framed the bottom of the stairs by nailing a 2x8 down the stairs, attached to the 2x4s going across...

...then just slapped a drywall panel straight on

The angles were tough, but it worked out

Hendrik loves this little area because he can touch the ceiling.  That back side is only like 20 inches tall, so doing detail work down there was a huge pain

With the soffit above

Now we look at the hallway, looking east

After framing, you can see the hallway door to the right, the bathroom door to the left

After insulation

Drywall

After drywall

And...the flood ruined everything

So I cut out the bottom 4 inches

Finished product

Now, the hallway looking west, from the bottom of the stairs.  It's going to go between the beams to the left and the red post

Framed it up!

The specks in the pic were from all of the drywall dust

And the finished product

The stairwell - Taken before we moved in

You can see the large pipes here that I had to go around, which made for some very tricky angles

Right before I took out the wall

I decided to take out the stairway wall to open it up a little

You can see here the large pipe that I framed around

Insulation was a pain here, since I didn't do the framing on the 16" standard, instead on each stair

Our lovely stair model Melanie is showing off the 2010 model staircase

Looking down

Here's what all the angles ended up looking like.  Mudding this was a huge pain

Overall, it looked pretty good I think!

Probably the #1 hardest thing to do was to get the angle right of the rail going into the newell at the ceiling there.  Took forever

I'm most proud of the stairs, even though I probably put the ballisters too close together...

...as you can see here.  The angle of this pic makes it look like they are uneven and crooked, but get your levels and rulers out and you'll see they are evenly spaced and straight as the day is long

 Miscellaneous pictures that nobody but me are probably interested in....

This is to document the mess

Serious, a ton of crap just piles up over time

Before we moved in

Framing the laundry room

The laundry room section of the flood

After I fixed the drywell, I installed the sump pump and had the pipe going into the wall and up to the outside.  I bought a cabinet to sit over this

The drywall wasn't working because there was no way for the water to seep in...so all I did was punch a hole in the bottom and water came gushing in

Going outside

The soffit at the end of the hallway

Some wiring...this is for the baseboard heaters

One of the outlets

Wiring one of the lights, which we replaced with the recessed lighting eventually

Running wire through the beams, also my trusty miter saw

And all the wires go back into the happy nest

The ceiling at the bottom of the stairs

This picture shows two of my favorite tools..."The Employees of the Month", which essentially hold up wood and drywall for you so you can have your hands free.  They are named thusly because they replace a slacker without a high school diploma, and they do a better job

That couch was given to us by our neighbors.  I thought it was a great couch and was going to keep it down there until I realized how badly it reeked of dog

Have fun in your new room, Hench!  I named the basement "Hendrik-land" although he won't go down there on his own yet.  Here's hoping.