Sunday, July 30, 2017

The Empire State

Looking up the One World Trade Center. You can't even see the top.

As noted in my short post last week, I was on vacation with my family (parents, sister, and niece) for the past week and a half in New York State. On Wednesday, July 18, we boarded a red-eye flight to New York City.

That was our first mistake.

We couldn't check in to our hotel until the afternoon, so our only opportunity to sleep was the four-hour plane ride. And while some people have no problem sleeping in planes and cars, I have a hard time. So by the time we got to NYC, I was running on about two hours of sleep. That was literally the most sleep deprived I have been in my life. See, I have made good life decisions so I have never had to pull an all-nighter before finals or worked the graveyard shift. Some people function with little sleep, but not this guy.

After arriving, we bought metro passes, but then we had problems with getting them to work. Our first subway experience was not good. We arrived just in time for the morning commute. There was a crazy lady yelling to herself, and she looked like this:
We crammed into the Subway, toting our luggage, and every time it stopped I hoped people would get off. A few did, but even more got on. Even one of the natives kept saying, "There is no room!" Fortunately, that was the only time we were so packed on the subway.

We went to the eightieth and eighty-sixth floors of the Empire State Building. That building was crowded with tourists. I could tell they were tourists because the crowd was less diverse than the subway had been. It cost extra to go to the top floor, so we didn't.
 Later we went to get tickets for a tour bus. My mom and sister and niece went in the building, but when my dad and I tried to follow them, a man at the door forbade us and told us to get in a line, even though they had entered that way. That experience, and the crowds, and the oppressive humid heat, and the lack of sleep, left me flustered, and when we got in line, I proclaimed, "I hate this city so much! I never want to come back here again!" I felt better after catching up on sleep and spending more time in the city, but what I said isn't entirely untrue. I wouldn't mind going back, but that doesn't mean I want to go back.

The next day, we boarded a tour boat up the Hudson River. It was so hot that day. I had put sunscreen on my arms, neck, and face, but none on my legs, so my thighs just above my knees were fried. They showed us various landmarks, but the only one I really cared about was the Statue of Liberty. I'm a little sad we didn't get to see it up close. You know, give me your tired and all that.

The rest of the day, we took a tour bus around the city.
We unexpectedly came to the temple. There were lots of beautiful cathedrals in the city, so I found it a little sad that ours was boring.

The playgrounds of Harlem are very sad looking, with no green space or sand.
 On our last full day in the city, my niece (Allie)'s birthday, we went to the pool monuments at the World Trade Center.

Allie loves people and celebrities, so we went to Madame Tussaud's, but I'm not a fan of chains of tourist attractions. (I call it a chain because there's one in every major tourist city.)
There was a Tony Bennett figure ten or twenty feet from Lady Gaga, so why didn't they put them together?!
 The highlight of our time in New York City was probably seeing Wicked on Broadway, at the Gershwin Theater. Before this trip, I always thought Broadway was a theater that had different stages on it for different shows--like a movie theater but for plays. I had heard all good things about Wicked. As the show started, it was hard to understand/hear what the ensemble cast was singing. If this (Broadway) was the gold standard for musicals, is there ever a chance to understand what they're saying? But the rest of it was fantastic. Even though Wicked has been out for a long time, I was pleased that I never had any spoilers. I was also happy that there was little or no foul language and innuendo, unlike so many other musicals.

Our hotel room was on the 24th floor. which is almost as tall as Salt Lake's tallest buildings, and yet we still were dwarfed.
We truly were tourists in a tourist city. I work in Salt Lake City, the biggest city in Utah, but compared to New York, SLC is just a tiny baby. And I truly am a West kind of guy. I don't like there being that many people. I was also surprised that NYC wasn't more ecofriendly. There were few recycle bins, and even fewer drinking fountains, which encourages the purchase of bottled water, which I can't stand. I never bought water (though my family did), but I did occasionally run out of water in my reusable one. If I had to be in a ginormous city, I would prefer San Francisco.

The rest of the trip was in the more enjoyable upstate New York. We rented a car in the city and drove up through New Jersey (my first time in that state) and Pennsylvania. We made a stop at Watkins Glen State Park, a lovely little gorge. Everyone raves over its beauty, though I don't think you need to make a special trip to go there. We went when I was eleven, and I remember the gift shops having ugly t-shirts with exhausted people bragging about climbing all 832 steps (meaning stair steps). Even then, when I was a chubby, nerdy kid, I didn't think it was that hard. It's only like a mile and a half (one way) with an elevation gain of about 500 feet. We parked at the top and the girls in the family walked down, while my dad and I went down and then back up to get the car. It was easy for us.

On Monday, we spent Pioneer Day at Niagara Falls. (I was sad to spend Utah's holiday not in Utah.) We signed up for a tour bus so we wouldn't have to worry about parking and seeing everything. We had a charming tour guide named Rita who could remember everyone's name on the bus. We went to Cave of the Winds, which allowed us to go right near the base of the American falls.

We were able to be near the top of the Canadian falls.

And we boarded the Maid of the Mist VII to see the falls from the bottom.
I was a nonconforming yellow in a sea of blue Maid of the Mist raincoats, because I thought it was wasteful to get another one when I already had one from Cave of the Winds. But if I were truly ecofriendly, I would have brought a real rainjacket. Or gotten wet.


That night and the next morning, we visited spots in Palmyra, where we had guided tours from sister missionaries. It was interesting for me to visit them, both as a returned missionary and as an employee of the Church History Department. I thought the tours were a bit more devotional than historical, even as the scholarship of Mormon history (including official Church history sites and museums) has gone in the other direction.

The Smith frame house

The Smith log cabin

A bright red bird in the Sacred Grove. There truly seemed something peaceful about the grove.
And then we headed to the highlight of our trip. My great-grandmother, Grandma King, lived on Little Sandy Pond (or South Sandy Pond) near the village of Pulaski, New York, near Lake Ontario. (Grandpa King died a month before I was born, so I never knew him.) We used to visit her every few years; I visited her four times in my life, though the first time I was just a baby (and not counting the few times she visited Utah). When I was twelve, Grandma King died, so the following summer we had one final trip there to close it up and say goodbye. My grandparents at one point had bought the property so Grandma King could live in an apartment in town during New York's severe winters. It was no longer practical for them to own the property, so they had to sell it. One of the owners tore down the original cabin and built a new house.
Little Sandy Pond today

We rented a cabin/house on the shore of the adjoining pond, Big Sandy Pond (or North Sandy Pond), to recreate the romance of those old summers. (We had initially rented a place on Little Sandy Pond, but there was a septic tank problem, and it actually worked out better for us that way.) The little place was simply charming, and we spent four nights there. My grandparents drove out from Utah and stayed with us. In the evenings, I would go kayaking on the pond; the last night I went swimming, but it was a little chilly, and it was green underwater. Most of the time we just spent relaxing.
There were sandbags because the water was the highest it had been since the nineteenth century.

This was the little place we stayed.
One day we took a boat trip along the 1000 Islands of the St. Lawrence River (of salad dressing fame). We stopped at Boldt Castle on Heart Island, an enormous "house" that a businessman was building for his wife, but it was never completed because she died prematurely.

Seventeen years ago, my brother pointed out to me that this display case said "cork installation" when it probably meant "insulation." It still does.
 We used to swim in Lake Ontario, but it was too cold and impractical on this visit.

This really was primarily a family visit. I tend to think most about my ancestors who settled in Utah, but this region of New York is just as much in my roots. We got to visit with my two great aunts--Aunt Mary Lou, whom I hadn't seen since 2001, and Aunt Lynn, whom I had never met.
Aunt Lynn, Aunt Mary Lou, and Grandma Ebbert

This is the name of the road where Grandma King's house was. Ebbert is my grandpa's last name; Grandma King was my grandma's mom. According to my mom's telling of the story, when they decided to name the little streets around the pond, they were going to name one for the longest resident of the area. That was Grandma King. But since the property technically belonged to my grandparents, she told them to name the road Ebbert, rather than name it after her.
Foot selfie: my mom, Allie, my sister Susanne, and me with my pasty, hairy legs.

This is a welding mask that belonged to Grandpa King on display at a town museum where Aunt Mary Lou helps out.
New York state is lovely. Trees are everywhere; when there aren't as many trees, you know you're near civilization, while the opposite is true out here. Our lakes are tiny compared to the ponds of the East; glaciers didn't have as big of an impact out here. It was delightful to be able to visit.

But I'm glad to back in my own dear mountain home.

Sunday, July 23, 2017

Welcome to New York

This will be a short post, because I am on vacation, so I'm just writing on my phone.

Anyway, on Wednesday night/Thursday morning, my parents, my sister, my niece, and I boarded a red-eye flight to New York City, a city where I've never been. We visited the Empire State Building, took a boat tour on the Hudson River, saw the pools at the World Trade Center, and watched Wicked on Broadway. It's nice to visit once in my life, but I'm a Utah boy, and teeny tiny Salt Lake City is big enough for me.

We left NYC this morning and stopped at Watkins Glen State Park before arriving in the town of Niagara Falls. We will see the falls tomorrow and spent the rest of the week in upstate New York, which I haven't visited since I was 12. I will give a full report on next week's episode. (I wanted to say "post," but my phone suggested I say episode.)

Maybe I shouldn't, though. I generally find others' travelogues to be boring at best and braggardly at worst.

Sunday, July 16, 2017

Goodbye Jenny :'(

Though I had a lot of interesting things happen this week--my nephews leaving Utah, visiting sports medicine, pioneer events at the Church History Museum, MoTab Pioneer Day concert, Draper Days parade, high school reunion, biking to said reunion and having a young kid take unusual interest in me and my bike--my week was overshadowed with a feeling of darkness and emptiness, as we had to say goodbye to our kitty, Jenny.

Last week, we noticed that she didn't seem to be eating much. We wondered if maybe she was eating when we weren't around, or if she was stressed out with all the company we had. She tended to just lick her wet food instead of eating it, whereas normally she loves it and eats it right up.

By Sunday evening, I could tell for sure that she wasn't eating at all, and she was really low on energy. Even my nephew Preston (12) commented that she seemed really sick, and I don't think he'd even heard us discussing her. My mom agreed to take her in the next morning. Jenny wanted to go outside, but I wasn't going to let her out in that condition.

When I got up the next morning (Monday), someone had let her out, so I went to find her so she would be inside when my mom took her to the vet. I found her sitting placidly on the lawn of our sideyard. That was quite uncharacteristic of her; usually she hides under bushes or sits on non-grassy surfaces. She purred when I pet her but otherwise didn't react much. I picked her up and put her inside--she tried to go outside again, but she could barely move. She had deteriorated significantly just overnight. I took her to my room so she could sit out of the way, and she meowed distressedly as I took her. She settled down on my carpet, whereas usually she goes behind my bed or in my closet.

I was recently disappointed to change cubicles at work, but on Monday I was glad that my new one was a bit more isolated. My mom texted me and asked if I could call her. That didn't seem like a good sign. She said that the vet said her temperature was really low and her kidneys were inflamed. They could do an expensive operation, but they didn't think it would do anything. They could do a cheaper treatment by giving her an appetite pill and filling her with water, so we both felt good about doing that.

My sister-in-law (who went with my mom) sent me these pictures of Jenny. Jenny would never consent to being wrapped in a towel.
My mom later told me that the vet had to pour water on her to stop her purring so she could hear her heart. Last year, Jenny was diagnosed with a heart murmur, and her heart murmur had become very pronounced.

Not long after the first call, however, my mom called me again. Jenny's condition was really bad--her eyes kept rolling back, and the vet recommended that putting her down was the best option. So we reluctantly agreed. I felt bad for my mom having to be there to make the decision.

I was kind of weepy the rest of the day, which made it a little hard to focus on work. When I got home, I found out that her body was downstairs in the room she loved to hide in. I thought my mom would leave her at the vet, but it was more expensive, and she thought it would provide more closure to bring her home.

When I went down and saw her little body, which did not purr at all when I petted it, I just broke down. As I sobbed, a bunch of things went through my head:

  • How pathetic. Here I am a grown man, crying over a cat. And not even a particularly friendly or loving cat.
  • If I'm this sad over a cat, what will I do when it's a person?!
  • But we had Jenny more than half of my life. I can remember driving home from the Davis County animal shelter with her one autumn afternoon in 2002, when she was just a kitten. We hadn't even named her yet. That era has come to an end.
  • We had her longer than my brother has been married, and longer than my niece or nephews. That's five people who have been in the family for less time.
  • In fact, my niece, Allie, used the word "Jenny" or "Jen" to refer to any cat (or other small mammal) when she was a toddler.
  • If it had to happen, though, this was a good time, because we are going to New York this week, so we don't have to find someone to watch her.
  • I've read that the average life span of a cat is fifteen years. I don't know when Jenny was born, but I estimate it was August 2002, so she was right there.
  • She was old, and she wasn't in perfect health. It was probably the heart murmur that did her in (though the vet speculated she could have eaten poison), but she also had arthritis and hyperthyroid. She had gotten pretty skinny recently, probably from her thyroid.
Although seeing her dead was much sadder than I expected, in a way I felt like it allowed me to get it all out of my system and accept it. Then I was ready to take her up and outside to be buried.

Last week, my dad disassembled a slide platform from my childhood because it was rotting. He extended one of the holes where it had been anchored in the ground, and we put her in there. My nephews got their last pettings in. (They weren't very sad, since they don't live here, and Jenny wasn't friendly to them.) So in the ground she went, covered with dirt and a cement block to prevent her from being dug up.

Monday, of course, was the hardest, and Tuesday still stung. I was doing better Wednesday, but then Wednesday night, I had a dream where I was buying cat food that could restore cats' health. In the dream, I thought, "No, it's too late, she's already dead, we buried her," but then I thought, "No, it's not too late, because after we buried her I saw her walking around." (That part was fiction, of course.) So Thursday was a little sadder just because that stupid dream got me wondering if we could have done anything else for her. But I'm doing better now.

This experience has me thinking about sympathy and empathy. I know cats aren't for everyone, but I appreciate others' sympathy. I'm not a dog person, but I hope to be more empathetic about people's dogs, especially since dogs have more personality and are better companions. (I would argue that the best dog is better than the best cat, but the worst dog is worse than the worst cat. I feel like of all pets out there, dogs are funnest, and cats are second funnest; but of all pets out there, dogs are the most work, but cats are the least work, with maybe the exception of fish.)

We knew this day would come someday, but I didn't expect to be so sad when it did. 


This is a screenshot from a video my grandparents took when she was a kitten in 2002.

Scrapbook image of her playing in a Christmas garland in 2003.
June 2006

A messy room and ugly carpet, February 2007.

2008, when I was on my mission.
December 2009. She always got poofy when she saw another cat outside.

She loved garlands. 2010.

And she loved soft things, especially when they were new. 2012.

Sometimes she slept in odd positions; this was one of the weirdest. August 2015.

Sleeping on my fall rug, 2016.

In February 2017, she got really sick when she had an abscess. We were more worried then than we were this time; this time we thought it might be another abscess that could be fixed. We spent a lot of money to restore her to health in February. It only bought her five more months, but I don't regret it. She seemed more loving those last five months. We had to give her thyroid pills, and even though she didn't like it, it gave us an opportunity to bond.

Whenever a new drawer or cupboard was open, she had to explore it. April 2017.

Sunday, July 9, 2017

Shooting fireworks like it's the Fourth of July

This week has been one of those weeks that happens only a few times a year, where I get to spend time with my three nephews. Last year, and in previous years, they spent nearly a month out here, but this time it's just over a week. I'm sad about that, but as they get older, I don't have to worry as much about them changing a lot between visits.

They are funny, calling me Jeff, Greg, Bob, Grunkle Mark, Uncle Hairy, and other names they think of. We were discussing my sprained ankle (more on that in a bit), and Franklin (9) asked if they should call me Ankle Mark.

On Monday evening, we went to North Salt Lake's annual fireworks show. I took my niece and nephews up to food trucks, because it's not very often you can walk to dinner in my neighborhood. We set up a blanket that I got for Easter on the grassy hill, and the hill was steep enough that we slid down it. It was a pleasant evening. I love doing traditional holiday things. You may recall that I made a bucket list of things to do for every holiday this year, so going to a fireworks show was part of that, though I do so every year.

Another thing on my bucket list was to go to a parade--even though I'm cynical about parades--so we went to Centerville's parade with my grandparents. I was all decked out with a stars-and-stripes hat, stars shirt, flag shorts, stars sock and stripes sock, and flag shoes.
It was a fairly typical low-key parade, mostly advertising and campaigning.

No holiday is complete without a trail run, so I thought I would go up Holbrook Canyon. Last year I went up North Canyon, but that's become too commonplace for me, so I thought I'd do Holbrook, which wasn't my favorite when I did it last year, but it's good to change things up once in a while.

One of my problems with Holbrook Canyon is that the trail can be pretty narrow. So as I ran up, I had to pass a few families. Adults are good about getting out of the way, but children are not. But after a quarter mile, I misstepped and twisted my ankle. I did the same thing last year, though I think this year the injury is not as bad, so hopefully it will be a quick recovery.

Having a sprained/twisted/rolled ankle in itself isn't too bad (at least not this time), but it's the side effects that are disappointing:
  • I didn't get an adventurous run in on the holiday.
  • Consequently, I didn't get the unlimited calories I usually get when I go running.
  • I was really embarrassed to have to go back past all those families I had just passed so soon.
  • It's been on my bucket list that during the Pioneer Day season (now), I run to Ensign Peak from my house. I don't know if I'll recover in time to do so. (This isn't on my official holiday bucket list, just something I've wanted to do.)
Oh well. At least I was only a quarter mile up the trail (unlike last year's 2.5 miles). And at least it's the hottest time of the year (it would be miserable to be laid up in spring or fall). I'm hoping to go in to a sports medicine clinic sometime soon to get advice.

Well, I wasn't going to let a sprained ankle ruin my day, so I continued with most other plans I wanted to do. An indie pop/folk band I love, The National Parks, was playing a show up in Clearfield, so my mom and I went up to see them, because no one else wanted to go. They're a fantastic band--they're not ones I think of when I think of things I love, but when I hear them, I'm reminded, "Oh yeah, I love these guys!" Their drummer had some kind of medical emergency, so there was no percussion, yet they still did an amazing job. They may not be hugely popular, but those of us who like them love them, and lots of people there (including me) were singing along.

Then we purchased some fireworks to light with my nephews, since lighting fireworks and sparklers was also on my bucket list. The stand we went to wasn't very friendly (not that they were outwardly rude, they just didn't say anything to us, like literally). We also aren't aerial firework people, but this stand mainly catered to that. We did get some aerials unintentionally, but the regular fireworks weren't that good, and they were expensive.

Two years ago, I added Pioneer Day to the canon of holidays I formally celebrate, and I've found that it makes Independence Day less depressing when I know that the patriotic holidays aren't over yet. (See, Pioneer Day was a patriotic American holiday for the very people who invented it and whom we honor, so it should be for us too.) We lit fireworks again on Thursday, because that's on my bucket list for Pioneer Day season, and sadly I won't be here for the actual day.

On Thursday, I went to a wedding reception that had food that was very fancy. I'm a simple man, and the fancier the food, the less I like it. They had highly seasoned vegetables, but I would have preferred plain roasted vegetables, maybe with a little olive oil. They kept the stems on the carrots, which may be fancier, but it's less edible. And they didn't peel the asparagus, which is ten times better when it's peeled.

My Saturday wasn't very eventful because of my ankle. But we had family over and played the Pictionary/Telephone game, and I find the sentence Franklin made up absolutely charming.

"A T. Rex eats a flying rainbow potato."
Then today my mom wanted me to teach her youth Sunday School class, using the talk I gave last Pioneer Day. (It's two weeks early due to various vacations.) I thought it went pretty well.

Sunday, July 2, 2017

Visiting Sanpitch

It was quite an eventful week!

At first, though, I was disappointed that they had me switch cubicles at work. Next week, a new intern will be starting, and they want me to work with him, so they want my space to be by his. But I have loved my cubicle for the past two years, because when I lean back, I can see the tops of the windows and see the weather, and during the winter I can see if it's dark. I'm sad to lose my windows, and my new hallway/aisle is very narrow. Oh well. At least I will no longer be by the noisy ancient-looking missionary, who calls his wife at least three times a day, frequently yells at his computer ("You dumb thing! Arr!"), and constantly mutters to himself ("Oh, wow, wowowowow").
I will miss the tops of the windows.
 Wednesday evening was my final installment of June goathead eradication for the year. I found nine places this month where I had to pull them up (seven in North Salt Lake, one in Bountiful, one in Sugar House). This week's was by a gas station/convenience store, so afterwards I went and got a cookie with patriotic sprinkles. I was hoping they would give it to me for free for beautifying their property.

My parents left to go pick up my nephews, so I was left alone in the house. But I myself left as well. My YSA ward had a three-day outing to Sanpete County. I was happy for this, because that's one county I've never been to. My generous mother let me drive her car, since I didn't think my 1995 Legacy would make it that far.

Before we left, we were warned of a news article about a fugitive running loose in Nephi, where we were passing through. The suspect was 5'11" and 168 pounds. Guess how much I weighed myself at that morning?
You can ignore how filthy the scale is, thank you.
We stayed at a place called Pheasant Run Outfitters near the town of Fayette. It consisted of a "clubhouse" with a recreational area and some bedrooms, with a larger lodge with bedrooms. I've been in different rental vacation homes, and this one was one of the more poorly designed. For example, the serving area did not have a sink, one bedroom had doors only to the outside and to a bathroom, and apparently there was a small fire in the kitchen because they had wood paneling by the stove (or something like that). The steps were such that I was sure someone was going to trip sometime. But I guess you can't be too picky about such places.
Sanpete County looks a lot like other Utah places.
 A lot of the time was just relaxing, playing games, and eating. Since I had no data and the WiFi was spotty, I didn't track any calories at all on Friday. Oh well, my year of calorie counting is almost over.

As people were drinking soda, bottled water, and other things, it got me thinking about the last time I drank various beverages. I'm pretty proud of my record. The last time I drank:

  • Gatorade: yesterday
  • Fruit juice: wassail and cider at Christmastime
  • Soda: December 24, 2015. Unless Slurpees count as soda, in which case it was last August.
  • Root beer: July 22, 2015.
  • Bottled water: 2012? 2011? (Bottled water is economically and ecologically unfriendly.)
  • Pepsi (caffeine free): summer 2009
  • Coca Cola (caffeine free): elementary school? Maybe junior high.
  • Mountain Dew: elementary school
  • Caffeinated soda: first or second grade?
  • Energy drinks: never
  • Tea: never. That doesn't count herbal teas, which aren't tea at all. And it doesn't count that caffeinated Clif Bar I bought in 2014 and didn't realize it until after I ate it.
  • Coffee: never
  • Alcohol: never. Unless you count accidentally swallowing mouthwash.

I initiated this game of Telestrations. Someone drew this for Great Salt Lake...and then the next person thought it was Jesus and Peter walking on water.


People kept leaving the door open, so this fast-moving arachnid crawled in one night. Then I identified it as a camel "spider."
On Friday, I took a few people to Yuba State Park, because we were really close, and I had never been. Someday, I might make it my bucket list to visit every state park in Utah, so this one is off my list. Now I understand why I had never been. Maybe it would be better at a different location in the park, but I was not impressed with this Painted Rocks beach. I got in the water, and it was very muddy and I kept sinking. At the deepest part of this portion of the lake, the water was only to my shoulders. I tried to swim, but most of the time it was too shallow. When I did swim, I only dared to backstroke, because I didn't want to drink too much mud. But it was good to get it off my bucket list.
I made it to the other shore by swimming, walking, and crawling through the water.

I walked to the top of the little hill on the right.
 A group of us went to the Manti Temple. As we pulled up, a cow was galloping across the temple lawn. It was entirely charming and hilarious. We watched as the cow crossed the roads and some kids on bikes chased it. It made my day that I first saw it on the temple grounds; it wouldn't have had the same effect if I had seen it elsewhere first.
 I loved the pioneer designs and aesthetics throughout the temple, and I liked the murals. When we got out of the temple, there was another herd of cattle roaming the town and stopping traffic. We also saw a deer and a dog crossing the road before we left town. The Manti Menagerie.

It's difficult to take pictures on your phone when it's bright outside.
 On Saturday, I was able to knock another state park off my bucket list as we went to Palisade State Park. This one was way better than Yuba. The water wasn't muddy, and I could do a lot more. We rented paddle boats, canoes, and paddle boards, and I did some of each, though paddle boarding was mostly on my knees. The lake's rules are that you have to wear a life jacket if you go past the docks, so I did a decent amount of swimming, though I had a life vest so I didn't have to worry about sinking. I wanted to be ambitious and backstroke across the lake, but I couldn't go in a straight line, so it would have taken forever.

I hadn't planned to go the whole time, since my job was ending in August and I didn't want to take the time off. But since my job got extended to December, I felt I could go the whole time. And I'm glad I did.