The Big Four.

This weekend, our littlest Berlin turned not-so-little-anymore. It was another birthday so, of course, Steve Happens Productions was on the scene to capture the moment. Enjoy.



Some select photos (including the miraculous Princess Cake) can be found on Hailey Happens.

Woo hoo!

Today I was welcomed into the One Million Views Club.

Yes, it ruled.

Eight amazing years.



Today, Hailey and I celebrate our Eight-Year Anniversary. And in typical Hailey fashion, she scheduled a triathlon today in St. George. Some of you may recall the Marathon she ran on our honeymoon. One thing's for certain, there has never been a dull moment since the two of us knuckleheads got together. So here's to eight years and many, many more to come. Happy Anniversary, Hailey. I love you!

Well, that was an adventure.

Two days ago, the family and I were driving up to Hogle Zoo in Salt Lake City to meet up with my brother and his family. It was in the middle of rush hour traffic. We approached the very busy intersection of Foothill and Sunnyside. As the cars backed up, I made a totally pro manuever and darted into the turning lane early, passing all the suckers patiently waiting with their turn signals flashing. You snooze you lose, suckers!

Then, suddenly and without warning, the car just stopped. It shut down completely. Right there, in the left hand turning lane, right at the intersection, the car just stopped.

I quickly tried the ignition. Nothing.

HAILEY: What happened?

ME: It just stopped, I don't know.

HAILEY: What happened?

ME: (trying to think)

HAILEY: What do we do?

ME: (trying to think)

HAILEY: Well do something!

ME: (trying to think)

HAILEY: What are you doing?

ME: (trying to think)

HAILEY: Do something!

ME: I don't know, I'm trying to figure it out. Call someone or something.

It was at this point that Hailey decided to call 911.

Of course, by saying "call someone" I was referring to someone like my brother who was at the zoo, or my parents who lived a few blocks away or a friend who could help us out.

I called my brother and he quickly came to our rescue. As the traffic backed up behind us as far as the eye could see, we pushed the car right, across all lanes of traffic and down Sunnyside, using the coasting speed to make a right turn into a student housing parking lot.

HAILEY: Should I call 911 back and tell them nevermind?

Fortunately, Hailey had signed us up for AAA a few days prior to this fiasco. We called for a tow truck. Hailey and the kids loaded up with my brother and his family to go have dinner. Meanwhile, I waited with my father for the AAA guy to show up.

Eventually he did. And what's better, he knew what the problem was. Dead alternator.

AAA GUY: If you ran down to Auto Zone and got a new alternator, I'll just put it in for you right here.

Perfect. It was the one bit of good news I sorely needed. My father gave me a ride down to Auto Zone where I purchased a new alternator for a smooth $170. (Happy Father's Day, Steve.) We drove back and in a matter of minutes, the car was back in action. I retrieved my family from dinner and we called it a day.

So, what did I learn from this experience?

- AAA is definitely worth it. All families should have it.
- Older, wiser brothers are definitely worth it. All families should have one.
- 911 isn't really concerned with stalled vehicles.
- The alternator is that thing that keeps the battery charged.
- I really know nothing about cars.

A lesson learned.

As you all know, I have been shaving my head on a weekly basis for the last three or four years. Unfortunately, a healthy, full head of hair is something you simply cannot find on the men who share my genetic upbringing. So, as soon as I noticed the follicles in the north country falling by the way side, I decided to adopt the new look.

To be honest, I really don't mind it. It's a nice clean look. It's easy to maintain and I save a bundle on hair care products. Every Sunday morning, with my Oster clippers in hand, I buzz off the week's growth. That's about it. That's all it takes.

So, aside from having the full head of flowing locks that I'm sure Hailey wishes I had, the buzz look hasn't really been an issue for me.

Until today.

Normally on business trips of extended length I pack my clippers so I can keep up with my weekly sheering. I chose to leave them home this time because I needed all the carry-on bag space for my clothes. (Yes, I hate checking bags so much that I decided to live for three weeks off of one carry-on bag.) So it was either the clippers or a few more clean pairs of undies. Besides, I could just find a barber or something, right?

So today that's what I did. I googled "Barber Shop in Soho, NY" and was quickly presented with a handful of selections all within a hefty walk. Naturally, I chose the closest one which was about 20 blocks. Village Cuts. Off I went. This will be quick and simple. Just pop in, get a quick buzz and be on my way.

As I neared my destination, I began to notice a curious similarity between the local shops. Let's just say they were very "liberal" in their appearance and product offerings. I arrived at Village Cuts and walked in. Perfect, a barber chair was available. A rather effeminate man sitting behind the counter told me to take a seat and that my stylist would be right with me soon. He draped a cape around my neck and then frolicked off into the back room. "Sandy, you have a customer." As I looked around I quickly realized something. I was in a gay barber shop. Posters of bare-chested men covered the walls. A giant rainbow decal adorned the front window. How did I not see this? It was everywhere. Even on the small screen television mounted on the wall and the magazine rack.

Towering well over six feet tall, with a glistening bald head and a giant loop earring wearing tight jeans and a black tank top, my stylist, "Sandy" entered the room.

SANDY: What can I do for you?

ME: Just a quick buzz. No attachment. Just really quick.

SANDY: Okay.

ME: Like super fast. Just a quick buzz. And I'll be on my way. Just quick.

Now, again, remember I can shave my own head in about 10 minutes. It's really not that complex or time consuming. Well, somehow he managed to stretch it out for 45 of some of the most uncomfortable minutes I can remember. With one of his giant hands palming my entire head and the other directing the clippers, he went to work.

I clicked my heels three times. Nothing happened.

After thirty minutes, the hair cut was finally over. I made it. Honestly, it wasn't even that big of a deal.

Wait, what is that? What is he doing? Where did that bottle of oil come from and why is he pouring it into his massive hands? Wait. This is fine, I just needed the hair cut. It looks great. I should just be on my way. I gotta get back to...oh great, okay. Just go ahead and, right, okay. Just great. Okay, I guess that's going on my head. And, awesome, I guess I'm getting a head massage.

For an entire fifteen minutes.



Rest assured, next time I'll pack the clippers.

Bolder Boulder, 2008.

Well folks. It's official. I finally ran a race. After eight years of Hailey practically begging me to run a race, I finally caved. And now that it's over I wouldn't necessarily say I'm ready to sign up for the next one but I will admit it was fun. And I'm actually really proud of myself for crossing the finish line without having to walk. For me, that's quite the accomplishment.

Last night I received my registration package. Hailey signed me up for the race a few weeks ago. Now those of you who know my better half know she's not exactly one for details. And, well, let's just say she certainly missed a pretty important detail when she registered me for this race. Can you spot it?



ME: Hailey, it says here that I'm registered as a lady.

HAILEY: What, let me see?

ME: Right here. You registered me in the female division.

HAILEY: (uncontrollable laughter)

ME: It's not funny.

HAILEY: Hey, well at least you'll probably rank higher.

ME: Gee. Awesome.

I saw Hailey off early this morning. Her start time was two hours before mine. I stayed back and waited for the babysitter. As I was about to leave I got a txt from Hailey telling me to not park in Niwot as I was planning because there was a huge line waiting for the bus. She told me the best place to park was at the Twin Peaks Mall because nobody was there.

Perfect.

I arrived at the Twin Peaks Mall to see what was quite possibly the longest line I had ever laid eyes on. And yes, I've been to Disney Land, Disney World, Epcot Center and a bunch of other places known for their line length. This was the king of long lines. Great, thanks for the tip, Hailey. Luckily, the buses arrived in droves and I eventually found myself sitting on a bus next to some middle-aged mother. Little did she know I was in her division and had plans to totally waste her.

As we passed Niwot I couldn't help but notice a small line of about twelve people.

Finally, we arrived. Thousands upon thousands of runners painted the landscape. I quickly blended in as I made my way to the starting line. The smell of porta potties filled the air. Dark clouds threatened precipitation. No matter. I had a vanilla cream energy bar and a few pieces of Thirst Buster gum (that I bought the night before) in my pocket. I was ready for whatever.

Bring it on.

I found my group and lined up behind the yellow rope. Slowly, we advanced to the official starting line. Eventually, I found myself at the front of the pack, bracing for the starting gun.

BANG!

How exciting! I sprinted off the starting line, running as fast as I could. I quickly caught up to the wave that left before us. Now, understand Hailey signed me up in the "Walk and Jog" division. So the entire road was basically blocked with old grandmothers and little kids.

I bobbed and weaved like a champ. Like a robber eluding police in a high speed freeway pursuit. Before I knew it I was passing the first mile marker.

Along the side of the road was a very long table with volunteers holding out cups of water and Gatorade. Screw that! I had Thirst Buster gum. While others stopped to refuel, I shunned the thought and continued down the road.

It was somewhere between mile one and mile two where my body realized I still had a long ways to go and probably couldn't keep sprinting. Hailey's voice echoed in my mind. "Pace yourself, Peach."

I slowed 'er down. Brought 'er down to fourth gear. Cruise control.

And I ran.

I ran past several drunken bachelors standing shirtless on their front lawn. I ran past a group of cheerleaders who were cheering the runners on. I ran past a slip-n-slide that had been set up for the runners to use. I ran past some dudes handing out beers to all the runners. I ran past a hefty fellow handing out Krispy Kremes. I ran past some dude puking. I ran past a cover band playing Eye of the Tiger. I totally pumped my fist.

I ran down hills and up hills.

I ran and I ran and I ran.

Until, finally I reached the last stretch. I entered the Colorado University Stadium to the tune of thousands. I could see the finish line. Suddenly, the theme song from Karate Kid entered my brain.

"You're the best around. No one's ever gonna bring you down. You're the best around"

I kicked it back into sprint mode, again, bobbing and weaving.

BEEP

And with that little electronic sound recognizing the little chip I had tied to my shoe and recording my race completion, it was over. I had made it. I threw it down to a brisk speed walk. "Walk it off, Babcock, walk it off." I heard someone yelling at me. "Peach!" I looked up and there was Hailey standing in the stands waiting for me. She had a smile from ear to ear. She had waited over eight years to see this.

She couldn't have been happier.



We boarded a bus back to the Twin Peaks Mall. Along the way, we both received txt messages with our race times. Of course, Hailey beat me by a whole ten minutes. I finished in 61:01. It was certainly good enough for me.



Later this evening we checked the official race results online. Turns out just over 500 women beat me. And over all, I came in at a whopping 16,978th place.

See you next year, ladies!

Congratulations, Berlin.

Last week, my littlest Lins graduated from preschool. Way to go, kiddo!