God Save Us From Stupid Articles

Okay, so I am on a newsgroup that provides me with articles on polygamy on a daily basis.  I usually glaze through them.  But occasionally, I will see a glaring example of how there are still false stereotypes about polygamists.  One article irked me.  Check it out here.

It is about the Darger family (whom I used to know back in the day).  They were recently featured on TLC's  "Sister Wives", and this is the passage that bugged me:

"The Dargers are definitely unique. For one, the wives are pretty glamorous for polygamists. They are very fit (they work out as a family,) and seem to care about things like hair, makeup and clothes; but that wasn’t always the case..."

And...

"They say they are of an independent polygamist faith, and from their clothing and hair in the old photos it looks at one time they may have been a part of a separatist Warren Jeffs’-type polygamist community. Vicky’s sister Valerie even speaks of leaving a “dysfunctional” polygamist marriage in order to save her children. The Brown family also likes to make a distinction between their family’s faith and the Warren Jeffs community, or any polygamists that abuse women, marry children, and or abuse the welfare system."


1)  The Dargers are "unique" because they are glamorous?  Granted, many polygamists are plain, but that doesn't apply to EVERY polygamist.  We are not all Amish.  If you think that polygamists are ignorant of fashion, check out my Music or Movie blogs.  That is not someone who is sheltered and isolated from the world.  I am not going to be wowed by your fandangled cell phones.  I have one.

The Darger family used to hold dances every month at the Murray City Park in Utah.  I used to attend them.  Yes, there were the waltzes and polkas that seem to figure in most polygamist dances, but they ended every single dance with Steppenwolf's "Born To Be Wild".

So, the Darger Family...  Glamorous?  Yes, but certainly not "unique"...

2)  They are "fit"?  Okay, so I personally have a weight issue.  Okay, I am just grossly fat.  (Check out the comments on my YouTube video for confirmation of this.)  But I think that I am more the exception than the rule.  Excuse me?  Is there a stereotype that polygamists are fat??  Where did that come from?  Most polygamist men seem to work in the construction industry and are pretty fit.  And "I" may be fat, but my wives certainly were not.

3)  They care about things like hair, makeup and clothes?  Are you kidding?  Polygamists don't care about hair?  Or makeup?  Or clothes?  Do polygamists run around naked?  And amongst the FLDS, some of them put a lot of money into their pioneer dresses.  And the bouffant hairdo that the women favor?  They put a lot of work into that look, even using sugar water to hold their hair in place.  They care very much about their appearance.  So dressing up is not something unique to monogamists.

4)  Their clothing and their hair indicated that they belonged to some separatist, Warren Jeffs-type polygamist community?  Now, I admit, in times past, most polygamists looked the same - long hair and long dresses for the women.  It didn't matter whether you were FLDS, in the AUB, or an Independent. They all kind of dressed the same.  But that hasn't been true for a long time.  And I have known the Dargers for a long time.  And they never belonged to any community, per se.  They were Independents.

5)  "Polygamists who abuse women, marry children, and abuse the welfare system?"  Clearly, this author has bought into the negative stereotypes.  Where do they find these kind of journalists?  Do monogamous men ever abuse women?  Do they ever marry children?  Do they abuse the welfare system?  Why is it okay to believe stereotypes about polygamists, but not about other groups?

This is one of the worst articles about polygamy that I have ever read.  I don't know how this stuff passes off as journalism.

My Life as a Monogamist

This post is one that needed to come, but it is one that has been hard to even start writing.

How do you follow thirteen years of plural marriage?  What do you do after you went in front of television cameras and put your family up as an example of polygamy?  And what do you do when it doesn't work out for you?

On Facebook, there was a campaign to nominate someone to be a National Polygamy Advocate.  Someone put my name up as a nomination.  I was flattered, but I declined.  How can I advocate for something that I am not currently living?

So how have the weeks been since my second wife and I split up?

Well, even though I know that we did it for a reason, even though I know that there was a spiritual and intellectual purpose behind the separation, it has still been hard emotionally.  I still feel a tremendous sense of loss. I feel as if I have lost my best friend.  I analyze constantly what I did wrong, what I could have done better.

But I have learned that I am stronger than I thought.  I watched other people go through divorce and thought, "Man, they are handling it so much better than I could."  Amazingly, I have surprised myself at how well I have handled it.  Now that I have actually experienced it - gone through the thing that I feared most, I realize that this is something that I can get through.

It helps that Temple has been a sweetheart through it all.  It has not been easy.  We have had a couple of clashes - mainly dealing with the kids.  But she has been really exemplary through all of this.  She has had to catch a lot of flak from people who want to judge or criticize.  I wish I could protect her from that, but I can't always do that.  People are going to think what they want, and I have found that very few understand why we did this.  There are expectations of how couples who break up should act around each other, and Temple and I don't fit that stereotype.

I see her almost everyday because of the kids.  We have created a schedule where we share the parenting responsibilities of the kids.  The boys go back and forth between homes.  Temple has made a great effort to be there for the other children, the kids I share with Martha.  She is present for birthdays and sporting events.  She made a special trip to the university Sophie attends, just to spend the day with her.  She has been gracious and kind and understanding.  No one on this planet knows me better than she does, and I am glad to have her in my life, even if our roles have changed.

One thing that has amazed me in all of this - in this separation, we are an example, too.  I have received many messages and emails from people thanking us and commending us for breaking up with dignity, and without the expected hatred or vitriol.  The three of us - Temple, Martha, and I - we were a true example of plural marriage.  There was nothing feigned about it.  We had a good marriage.  And in our separation, we were an example, too.

I will always be grateful for that.

Then there is Martha.  Martha has been my rock, my anchor.  I could have not got through this without her.  She has been a tremendous source of strength.  She has stayed so positive through all of this.  I  love her so much for sticking with me, for enduring the heartbreak I have gone through, and for being so patient with me.

So what happens now?

I have been taking this time to heal - not just emotionally, but physically.  (See previous post for my many ailments.)  There are many things to adjust to.  No more do I have to go between houses, between wives.  All of my days are spent with Martha.  Our bond has strengthened and grown.  But both of us feel empty, like something is missing.

One of the first things that Martha asked me was, "Are you going to take another wife?  Are you going to let this end your desire to move forward in the gospel?  Are you going to go forward and live the Principle again like you should?"

Of course, the answer is - I'm  not ready yet.  And yet I have a feeling that I will not remain a monogamist long.

My main goal right now is to focus on my health, which is very poor right now.  After that, I may turn my thoughts to adding to my family again.  After all, as I blurted out on international TV, "I am a polygamist at heart."

Amniomatrix

*WARNING - GRAPHIC PICTURES BELOW - NOT FOR THE SQUEAMISH*

Hello, it's the guy who is supposed to go on a full-out walk-about next year.  Except that I murdered my feet on a weekend in New York last August.

In the weeks following New York, my right foot - the foot that has given me problems for a couple of years - healed up pretty nicely.  But I still had to keep it bandaged.  It was still oozing blood slightly.

The left foot.  The left foot that gave me no problems before New York.  It just got worse and worse. My daily routine:

1)  Clean the wound.

2)  Put triple antibiotic in it.

3)  Put a gauze pad over it.

4)  Wrap it with rolled gauze.

5)  Put sock and shoe on.

6)  Pull off bloody gauze and sock at the end of the day.

It wasn't getting any better.  My foot was developing a thick callus that did not want to close up.  To make matters worse, my doctor was out of town on vacation.  He got back and took one look at my feet and scheduled the stem cell treatment - a procedure that we had been talking about for a while.

When I talked about this procedure and mention stem cells to people, they automatically assume that I will be putting dead babies in my feet.  No, these injections are called "amniomatrix".  They harvest the stem cells from discarded amniotic fluid from delivering moms.  I was surprised how often I had to explain myself, sometimes more than once to the same person.  This shows how controversial stem cell research still is.

The doctor's assistant told me to show up to the hospital.  I could eat that day, take my meds, etc.  The hospital called the day before - no food or liquids after midnight.  So I showed up that afternoon - lightheaded from not eating, hoping for some propofol.  (I no longer eschew anesthetics.)  The doctor walked in and said I didn't need any anesthesia.  He scraped out the wound and injected my wounds every centimeter with the amniomatrix.  He wrapped them and told me to stay off of my feet.

With a stack of movies and a stack of books in my room, I set out to heal my feet.  I stayed in bed as much as I could, and I got around with crutches.  After a couple of days, there was a smell like rotten meat.  It started to worry me.  Plus my foot was still draining like crazy.  I called the doctor.  He said it was normal.

Most of all, it was being down.  It reminded me too much of last year, when I was tethered to the same bed by an IV line.  It reminded me of that dark time, and everything horrible that happened afterwards.  In other words, it was a very emotional time for me.

It has been a little over a week since the procedure.  It is too soon to tell.  I would like to believe in a miracle cure.  But I have to fight my skepticism.  Hopefully my feet will be healed soon, and I will be on my way to walking this world again.

Below is my right foot, and then my left foot, before the procedure.  Hopefully, I can someday post a photo of them healed.

Reverse Honeymoon

So I am going to talk a little bit about the breakup between Temple and I.

The first thing I will emphasize - I will not talk about specifics.  Because I love and respect Temple.  And she loves me.  I am not going to say anything that would embarrass her.  I don't blame her.  I don't accuse her.  And if anyone carries the burden of this failed marriage, it is me.  There are a ton of things I could have done better, as a husband, to prevent it from happening.

It is not about plural marriage.  It just shows that plural marriage is like any other marriage, and sometimes marriages - polygamous or monogamous - come to an end.

For many months, Temple and I slept at opposite ends of the bed.  We rarely talked, and if we did, it was to argue.  I tried to stop it, but it was like holding back the tide with your hands.  You can grasp at it it and try to prevent it.  But in the end, all you have are handfuls of foam, and the current slides around you.

She needed space, and so she took the kids to see her family out of state.  I tried my best not to call her, text her, bother her.  It was a tough two weeks, not knowing what was going on.

Martha stood by and watched all of this with concern.  She didn't know what was going on between Temple and me.  But she knew something was up.  Hell, I didn't know what was going on.  Neither did Temple.

"I don't understand what's happening," I said.

"I don't understand, either," Temple would say.

It all went back to that black time when I was in my bed with a wound vac stuck to my foot, and the IV in my arm.  That dark hour when I had dark fluids running into my veins, changing my moods, saying things to my poor wife that I could not take back.  Depression - chemically-induced, or not - does some real damage to people, and those around them.  Whatever the case, the bubble was burst, and there was no bringing it back.

Earlier in the summer, Martha had come to me and suggested that I take Temple out of town for our thirteenth anniversary.  In fact, she insisted on it.  So I secured tickets for New York City and found a room.  We have friends who live in Philly, and so I invited them along.

In the meantime, Temple called me from her getaway.  Even though she was out of state, she had secured her own house in town.  She had been talking about finding her own place in town for a while.  Living on the ranch is spartan.  There are few comforts.  "Town" is closer to her job.  And then there is the mud.  Few people realize that Arizona has a monsoon season that dumps rain nightly for about six weeks.  And when you have five miles of dirt road, rain becomes mud.  Mud, mud, and mud.  It is hard on vehicles - if you can even get out.  Temple was tired of the mud.

So she called me to tell me that she had found a new place, and that she would be moving immediately upon coming home.  I asked her a question on inspiration:

"Will I be moving with you?"

She hesitated.  "I didn't want to tell you this on the phone.  But no.  Not for now.  I need time and distance to think about things."

So she came home on a Sunday, and on Monday, her friends were loading her stuff into a trailer for her new place.  Of course, I helped.  It was strange to know what to think or how to feel.  I kind of knew what was happening.  But it was hard to process.  She moved out on the day before our thirteenth anniversary.

The next couple of weeks, I adjusted to life without Temple.  The boys went back and forth between us, between the two houses.  We were separated, and yet we had this trip coming up to New York, this anniversary celebration.  One day, she met me at the highway with the kids, and we talked about it.

"Are we still going on this trip?"

We decided to go.  I mean, it's New York.

So on Thursday, she got off work, and we drove down to Phoenix.  I had decided that I would not bring up anything negative, or talk about our separation.  I would just go and have fun.  She slept much of the way, because she was exhausted from work and from the move.  We took a red eye to JFK and took the Long Island Railroad to Manhattan.  There, at Penn Station, we met our friends.  When that shooting took place at the Empire State Building, we were one block away - on our way to the Empire State Building.

We had a great first day.  We toured the New York Public Library.  Then we went to Brooklyn Heights and walked across the Brooklyn Bridge.  The Staten Island Ferry gave us a good view of the Statue of Liberty.  And we finished off a perfect day with tandoori at an Indian restaurant.

It had been a great day, and we enjoyed ourselves.  But the whole separation thing was like a monkey on our backs all day - the proverbial elephant in the room, and other animal metaphors.  When we got to our (tiny) hotel room, we sat down and talked about it.  Temple brought up several of her complaints about me over the years.  I listened to her, and they were legitimate.  Any one of them were grounds for leaving me.  I take full responsibility for our break-up.  If anyone wants to know what I did, they can contact me.  I am not hiding my fault in this.

I could see where this was going.  And I could see that nothing I was going to do or say was going to change it.  So I knew what to do.  I told her that I felt like I needed to give her a blessing.

She said something like, "Why?  So that you can 'bless' my feelings away?  So that I can get the same answer as you?"

I told her, "I don't know what I'm going to say.  I just feel like I need to give you a blessing."

And I didn't know what I was going to say.  But the minute I laid my hands on her head, I knew.  I quoted Jacob 2 from the Book of Mormon, where it talks about the daughters suffering at the hands of the men who abuse plural marriage.  And then I gave her a release.

The next morning, I woke up and thought, "Moroni, what the f*** did you just do?"

But in that moment, I knew it was right, and, in that moment, I knew it was what I had to do.

A "release" is the Mormon concept of letting a woman go from the marriage covenant.  In Mormon vernacular, there are no divorces, only "releases".  And I felt to release my wife.

Thirteen years of plural marriage ended in a small hotel room in New York City.

She started sobbing and saying that she was a failure.  I took the woman who was my wife in my arms and comforted her.  We talked for a long time that night.  I had been fasting and praying for several weeks.  Each time I fasted, the answers and thoughts that came to me did not seem to relate to what I was going through.  But as we talked, everything made sense.  The puzzle came together.

For some reason, it was supposed to happen this way.  This experience is unfolding exactly the way it is supposed to, and it is for our own growth.

I have never understood nor loved Temple more than I did in that moment, and I know that she felt the same way.

Temple told me that she knew that I would have a claim on her in the next life, that we would be together.  We vowed to be the best of friends in this life, and to still be a family, to raise our children together.  The only difference - in this life - we will no longer live together as husband and wife.

It was a deeply spiritual experience for both of us, and it is hard to for us to make other people understand what we experienced that night.

From there, we went up to a party on the rooftop of the hotel where we were staying.  Temple was wearing her pajamas.  We ordered a round of drinks and toasted to our thirteen years and kissed beneath the bright lights of the New York skyline.

The next day, our friends must have thought we were crazy.  They kind of knew that our marriage was in trouble.  But here were Temple and me, acting like a lovesick couple on our honeymoon.  Holding hands, kissing, hugging - except that it was as friends, and no longer as lovers.  I felt such a deep connection to Temple.  We thoroughly enjoyed our last two days in New York, as well as each other's company.

I told my friends, "If you are going to break-up, this is the way to do it, right?  Holding hands and taking a trip?  A sort of reverse honeymoon to celebrate your marriage before you end it?  It's a good way to say goodbye."

On Sunday, we flew back to Phoenix, and, from there, made the three hour drive home.  Temple dropped me off at home.  I got out of the car and gave her a tight hug and whispered, "Goodbye."

Then I went into my house to Martha, who was asleep and waiting for me.  And Temple went home to her life.

I did ask her that we take about a week to think about it before we made it public.  I didn't really think that one week would change anything.  But I wanted to know that, after thirteen years, I was worth praying one last time to God and asking, "Is this really what you want?"

But in truth, both Temple and I knew that this was the right thing for both of us.  I still love her very much.  And I miss her every day.  But the understanding that we gained in New York helps me get through every day, one day at a time.

Announcement

After 13 years, Temple and I are ending our marriage. It may seem cliche, but we really love each other and are still the best of friends. We will continue raising our children together, just no longer as husband and

 wife. It is a very sad time for us, and yet I wish her the best. There are reasons for it, but I won't discuss it on a public forum. I won't tolerate people badmouthing Temple or dragging her name through the mud. There are reasons for the split, but honestly I have to take responsibility for this. If it is anyone's fault, it is mine. I will likely blog about this in coming days, but without embarrassing her. My thirteen years as a polygamist are over, and I will still defend this Principle until my dying day, as I will defend Temple. This photo was taken the night it became final. I LOVE YOU FOREVER, TEMPLE!! ♥

My Summer... So Far

I have been kind of quiet this summer.  It has been a contemplative time for me.  If you want to know the best part of my summer, you can read it in my friend's blog here and here.  Enjoy!

Without Purse or Scrip

Check out my new blog here.

Re-runs on History Channel Last Night

So I guess they aired a re-run of our segment on History Channel's "Strange Rituals: Forbidden Sex" last night - twice!  The fun never ends.  Did anyone see it?  You know - the segment that is waffled between the incestuous father and daughter and tantric sex enthusiasts?  ;)

Here is the trailer:

Perfect Schmerfect

When I started this whole thing (blogging, TV, radio, etc.), it was to try to be a good example of plural marriage.  Since then, I have talked to many people and have indeed had a positive impact of people's perceptions on polygamy.  Every now and then, I will get a random email from someone, thanking me for being an example.  I am grateful for that.  Last week, though, I got an email from someone who told me that I was the "best" example of plural marriage, hands down, even over the Kody Brown family.

Since then, that proclamation has disturbed me.  So I have to issue a caveat.

I am not perfect.  I am not always the best example of plural marriage.  I am petulant, spoiled, petty, mean-spirited, cynical, rude, and overall a man-child.  I fight with my wives.  I sometimes take a perverse joy in twisting their words, because I am so verbose and good with words.  I hold grudges.  I suffer from depression. I feel sorry for myself a lot.  I am just plain hard to live with.

I am amazed that my wives have put up with me so long.

If there is any success to my marriages, it belongs strictly to my wives.  They are patient, kind, sweet, loving, understanding, and long-suffering. I am totally aware of how lucky I am.

If there is anything good to be said - it is this:  I love these two women with all of my heart.  I am not perfect, but sometimes I feel that my poor chest cannot contain the amount of love that I have for them.  I pray every day that I can become a better husband to them.

So an example - maybe.  But not a perfect one.  And Kody Brown has four wives.  I have only two.  I am sure that they are doing MUCH better than me.

A while ago, I went on hiatus, because I was overwhelmed at how much I suck at this sometimes.  But I realized that I still have a lot to say on the subject.  So I brought the blog back.

I just wanted to make it clear - this lifestyle is difficult and not for the faint of heart.  I don't want to put across any false images or candy-coat anything.  Aight?

Just sayin'...

And as far as the letters - keep them coming.  I LOVE getting them.  It reminds me that I am doing this for a reason.  I love feedback.  I love questions.  I love talking to people.

Half Birthdays

Many, like me, are new to plural marriage.  That is to say, we were not raised in the culture, and, as a result, we must decide what works - and what doesn't work - for our own respective families, without regard to tradition.  I have seen some strange customs that pop up in different families.  But hey, whatever works, right?

One strange custom that has popped up in my family has raised some eyebrows from onlookers.  And that is our custom of "half birthdays".

It seemed as if Martha and Temple were always having babies within six months of each other.  And when you have sets of kids from different moms that are roughly around the same age, it is like having  twins.  In fact, all of them have believed at some point that they really were twins.  Never mind that they were born months apart from different mothers.  In their minds, they are twins.

For instance, take Aidan and Sara.  They are five months apart.  One stands a whole head taller than the other.  But they insisted that they were twins, but it becomes very evident on birthdays that one is being recognized, and the other is somehow excluded.  How can you be twins and have different birthdays?  So they created something that they called "Half Birthdays".

It works like this - if it is Aidan's birthday (like it was a couple of days ago), it is Sara's "half birthday".  Aidan is the one who gets the cake and presents, and Aidan presents a small gift - a consolation prize, as it were - to the Sara.  Because it is her half birthday, not her birthday.  Five months later, when Sara has a birthday, she will present a half birthday gift to Aidan.

They were very insistent on it.  My kids watch out for each other.  It doesn't matter who their mother is, they are brothers and sisters.

So this tradition involved.  And I see the strange looks from relatives visiting our birthday parties when the birthday boy/ girl whips out a half birthday present.

And we have three sets of "twins".  Aidan and Sara.  Alex and Siobhan.  Avery and Israel.

Strange?  Yes.  But - it works for us.  And that's what is important.  I hope the tradition continues long after I am dead and gone.

Sophie

Today,my oldest daughter Sophie graduates from high school.  This morning, as I write this at sunrise, I am extremely proud of her and happy for her, and yet also a little sad.

Eighteen years ago, on Mother's Day, Martha whispered to me during a church service that she was expecting our first child.  When Sophie was born, she was the first grandchild on both sides of the family.  For years, she has been the joy of my life, daddy's little girl, and now she has grown up into a beautiful woman.  In the fall, she will leave home and go to college.

I think about my childhood, and how happy I was.  But there was a day when that life came to an end, and I started a new life.  I love my new life, but I sometimes look back at those days and wistfully yearn for them, wish that they never had ended.

Now, I am reaching the end of that period where I raised my own family.  My daughter is grown up.  She is intelligent, beautiful, ambitious, and not afraid to think for herself.  After today, nothing will be the same.  I pray for her success and happiness.

I am struck by the temporary nature of life.  I place my hope in my faith - that beyond this life, there is a place where we will all be together, forever, and it will never end...

Rule: "Never Rub Another Man's Rhubarb"

Despite the media-perpetuated stereotype, I think it is safe to say that most Mormon polygamists don't support underage or forced marriages.  The FLDS concept of having priesthood leaders arrange a marriage is alien - and sickening - to me.  To me, it violates the basic Mormon tenet of free agency taught by our founder, Joseph Smith.  This teaches that all men - and women - have the capacity to act as agents for themselves, being able to choose good or evil.

That doesn't mean that the rest of the polygamy world is not free of problems and abuses.  I have never tried to candy-coat the culture of polygamy, nor have I tried to candy-coat my own marriages.  This lifestyle is challenging and will try you to the core.  A man must constantly work at his relationships, or else this will consume him.

As I commented a couple of posts back, there are challenges in finding a woman who is willing to share her husband with another woman, and even more challenges in finding a single woman who is willing to enter into this lifestyle.  Some men become desperate in their quest.

In my list of pet peeves in that post, someone pointed out that I missed one of my greatest dislikes - and that is polygamist men who try to move in on other men's wives.

This irks me to no end, and this is one of the greatest problems that one finds in the Groups.  It bugs me, because it diminishes the free agency of a woman and turns her into property, into chattel.  The greatest gift that a woman can give is her choice of staying with a man, and these men who try to persuade women to leave their husbands are the worst kind of predators.

There is a Christian ministry (that I have nothing against) that my wives and I have "liked" on Facebook.  I have got a few friend requests from people on this site.  My wives have been inundated by friend requests from various men that saw them on the site.  It didn't matter that the girls were married to me, these men showed interest in them.  One woman I know said that a man actually tried to entice her a way from her husband by asking her, "Wouldn't you want to be with a more godly man?"

This problem is notorious in larger polygamist groups.  In marital disputes, it is almost a cliche that Priesthood Councils will rule in favor of the woman, and instead of encouraging her to work problems out, they encourage her to leave the husband.  Why?  Because she becomes "available".

I knew one man with two wives who went out of town to get a job and to find a new house for his family.  It was assumed that he had abandoned his wives, and some very "friendly" and "concerned" men came out of the woodwork to "check" on these poor wives.

Don't get me wrong - if I die, I would want my wives to remarry, and find someone they could love for the remainder of their lives.  But marriage covenants, in my belief, are eternal, and, unless I am abusive or adulterous, I deserve a chance to work things out with my wives and improve my relationships with them.

This predatory aspect of plural marriage has always bothered me, because some men try and do what would never occur to me.  I would NEVER try to make a move on another man's wife!  If you are desperate to live polygamy, have some patience and find a single lady.  And after you propose to her, give her some space and let her make her own decision.  It is worth a lot more if she winds up with you because it was her choice, and not because you smooth-talked her or coerced her into it.

And trying to steal another man's wife?  Adultery.  Plain and simple.  I don't care what priesthood calling you have.  It's adultery.  To quote Jack Nicholson, "Never rub another man's rhubarb."

Next, I will talk about courting...

A Perfect Day

With such a large family, it becomes easy to become a slave to everyone else's schedule.  Even though I am still  dealing with my foot ulcer, my days are fulled with watching kids, housecleaning, and driving kids here or there.

For the last week, Martha has been in Utah attending a brainwashing seminar.  (Martha knows how intensely I dislike "self-help", and she knows that she can count on me to tease her about it.)  She has left the kids at grandma's house, and Temple has grumbled all week about how nice it would be to take a vacation.  Temple has recently taken a new position (maintenance) at the school where she works, and it requires more hours.  She has been coming home, tired and exhausted.

It seems as if our weekends become - not a time of enjoyment - but a time to catch up with our chores.  For instance, Temple and I went into town on Saturday and did laundry.  I knew that Sunday was just going to be another day of work and/ or Sunday services, just like it always is.

I woke up at 5AM yesterday.  I usually get up early, and, when Temple is not working, my self-appointed job is to keep the kids out of the room so that she can sleep.  I got up just before the sun rose.  I had been having problems all night with the wound vac all night.  I was not getting enough pressure on the wound for accurate treatment, and had spent some time on the phone with a manufacturer's tech last night.  I could run the risk of infection if I kept it on my foot at a low pressure.  So I pulled it off of my foot, cleaned and bandaged the wound.  The nurse is coming on Monday anyway.

The sun rose, and I watched it through the living room window.  I was struck by its beauty, and - even though I am going through some serious problems in life - I gave thanks to God for my many blessings.  Life is so temporary, and so is the time we get to let our families knows that we love them.

I was suddenly struck with an urge, and so I went into the bedroom where Temple was sleeping.  I kissed her and whispered in her ear as she slept, "Why don't we take a road trip somewhere?  Just you, me and the kids.  Let's just get in the car and go somewhere instead of worrying about chores or Sunday School."

She barely stirred, and so I kissed her and told her to go back to sleep.

However, five minutes later, she was up and getting ready.  While the kids got ready, she made us homemade Egg McMuffins, which are twenty times more palatable than the restaurant version.  The kids were excited.  We looked on the internet to pick several locations nearby, all of them in New Mexico.  We talked about the Very Large Array (155 miles away), the Catwalks (135 miles away), or El Morro National Monument (102 miles away).  We picked El Morro.

So Temple, our three boys and I got in the car and were on our way.  We stopped at the Circle K in Saint Johns for drinks.  I got a fountain drink.  I put in every booster they have plus lemon and vanilla.  I took a sip and gagged.  Temple laughed at me.  I'm glad I can still make her laugh.

It was a hot, dry day as we drove across the desert.  Temple drove, because I still have the wound on my foot.  Right at the Arizona/ New Mexico border, Temple hit a pothole.  I didn't see it, because I was reading.  The car bounced so hard that moulding came loose, and a cloud of dust filled the car.  It startled us, but we laughed about it.

We drove through Zuni Pueblo, with its red rocks.  I pointed out the clay ovens outside of every house.  I have always wondered what they use them for.

We arrived at El Morro, with it's enormous, white and pink stone bluff.  I can't believe that in 13 years of marriage, I have never brought Temple here.  As we walked on the trail towards the bluff, I told the kids that we would be climbing the bluff.  Our 3 year-old Avery was worried about climbing up it.  He looked up the sheer face of the cliff and said, "I am scared, but my arms are strong."

Actually, they have cut steps into the cliff face, so - although tiring - it is quite easy.  The kids loved it.  El Morro is like a natural fortress.  Atop the cliffs are several Anasazi dwellings and kivas.  The trail winds along the rocks of the cliffs, and the view is spectacular.  Then it switchbacks down the mountain.  My legs felt like spaghetti coming down.

At the bottom, on the cliff face, travelers for centuries have carved inscriptions on the rocks - from Native American petroglyphs to elaborate script from Spanish explorers to writings from pioneers on their way to California.  It was an enjoyable way to wind down from the hike to look at these writings.

Exhausted, we made the drive back home in Arizona, where I picked up all of my kids from their grandmother's house.  We went home, and Temple made tacos for dinner for everyone.  As she prepared dinner, the kids were excited as they prepared for the upcoming eclipse.  Some of them had obtained special glasses from school.  I  tried to age old remedy of smoked glass.  It didn't work out too well.  We found an old welder's mask.  Each in turn was able to watch the the eclipse as it happened.

My daughter Sophie is graduating from high school this week.  (I feel old!)  We went to her baccalaureate.  Sophie is not especially religious, and so she made a token appearance.  So did we.  Mainly we went to see my son Christian sing in the choir.  Then we left early.  I don't want to sit through a long meeting, listening to all our town's preachers, either.

It was night when we got home, and Temple razzed me that I was going to bed, saying that I never let her sleep when she is tired.  It was, however, a perfect day.  Not because of going to different places, but because I was with the people I love.

HOW TO GET A SISTERWIFE

Okay, that title was a little misleading, because the truth is - I really don't know.  I can only say what has worked and what hasn't worked for me.  But I am asked this question ALL THE TIME.  I get emails from people I have never met, asking me this elusive of questions:  How do I find another wife?

Being a polygamist is a unique experience - because you aren't single, so you can't exactly be trolling the single's bars.  But you are kind of available, so you can keep your options open.  But how do you convince women - in this day and age of One Man/ One Woman - that the ancient, biblical practice of plural marriage is right for her, and that you are willing to be her polygamy partner?

Well, first of all, you need at least one wife who is willing.  I can't tell you how many men have asked me, "I really want to live polygamy, but how do I get my first wife to accept it?  She ain't having it!"

If the above scenario is you, then I am sorry for you.  Polygamy is about consenting adults, and you cannot force anyone into it.  Polygamy is not worth giving your first wife up over.  Why would you put somebody through pain and agony when they are not really into it?  If you want your first wife to live plural marriage, then convince her through long-suffering, prayer, teaching, patience, love and understanding, NOT by bringing home the chick you met at the biker bar and presenting her as wife #2.  In Mormonism, we call this the "Law of Sarah".  In the Bible, Sarah gave Hagar as a wife to Abraham.  Your first wife should have the opportunity to make this decision with you.  It's about honoring her.  There is no worse way to try to live plural marriage than to have someone not into it.  For the sake of your sanity, don't do anything stupid like rushing into this.

Second of all, you need to find a woman - or women - who are willing.  I don't know if you have noticed, but women who are willing to live plural marriage are not dropping out of the sky.

Wait, I take it back.  They are.  That is how Temple came into my life.  I wasn't really looking, and the opportunity presented itself.  Temple came out of nowhere.  I know to this day that God brought her into my life.  One reason - honestly, what would such a beautiful, young lady want with a toad like me?  She was a Godsend, an angel that flitted into my life.

Shortly after I married her, I decided that the internet would be a great place to find the next wife.  I signed up for several dating sites.  I listed on my profile that I was a "polygamist".  Guess how many hits I got?  None.  Zilch.  Zip.  So - in a sly maneuver - I changed my profile to "single".  I started getting several hits.

Several were from Russia.  "This is weird," I thought.  "Why are there so many single, beautiful women in Russia?"  I started getting the same letter from different Russian girls.  Not similar letters, the same!  And they all started asking for money for plane tickets.  It becomes disheartening when you realize that the hot Russian babe that you are trying to convince of the truthfulness of plural marriage is really some dude behind a computer in Minsk.

I didn't realize what I was doing until I caused a young, single Muslim girl in Uzbekistan to fall in love with me.  We wrote every day.  We talked on the phone, and she thought I was single.  When the time came to admit to her that I was a polygamist, it broke her heart.  I caused that young lady some real pain and some real tears.  I felt like such an ass.

I decided then and there that I would be completely honest about who I was and what I was seeking.  I would never lie again.  I haven't used the dating sites ever since.

Then there are the polygamy dating sites.  If you could see me type, you would see me laughing out loud.  Most of them are a joke.  When you look at those enrolled, it is mostly couples "seeking sisterwives", and there are very few single ladies.  And when single ladies come around, they are a hot commodity, sought by all.  My wife Temple calls it "the rat race".

I did correspond with a few women this way.  I will tell you about one woman.  She was a divorcee in Georgia.  I kept asking her why she had divorced, because that is kind of an important topic to me.  Whenever I asked, she always evaded the question.  She wanted to talk on the phone.  But she would not give me her number.  She called my phone, and she always restricted her call so that I could not see her number.

She wan't Mormon, so I thought that the first step would be for her to gain a testimony of my religion.  So I arranged for her to get a Book of Mormon.  This is how our email conversations ensued:

Woman:  When do I get to marry you?  When do I get to be your third wife?
Moroni:  Have you read the Book of Mormon yet?
Woman:  No.  When are you going to marry me?
Moroni:  We aren't even talking about that until you read the Book of Mormon.


This went on for a while until I just stopped answering her, because it was evident that she really wasn't interested.  As a man, I am always coming across women who pretend to be interested in plural marriage and will indulge in the act of establishing an online relationship, but never want to take it to the next level.  I don't understand such people, but they are out there in droves.  Here are some warning signs when dealing online with a prospective wife:

1)  If she is only interested in you, and not your other wife/ wives and children - run!  Run away!  She is not a candidate for your family.
2)  If she does not want to meet you, and always has an excuse why you can't meet, she is not real.  I'm sorry.  Move on to someone who is willing to invest time and effort to get to know you.
3)  If she is not willing to provide personal information (phone number, photos, mailing address, etc.) - at the same time professing that she wants to become your plural wife - she is not real.


I don't know what motivates such people.  I don't understand why anyone would invest so much time and energy into deception (unless you are working for/ with the anti-polygamist organizations), but it is to the point that I am skeptical about Every.  Single.  Person.  until i know them face to face.  (On a side note, one such person actually admitted to me that she was playing such a game, and she has since become once of my best friends on the planet.  Anyone remember Molly?  LOL  I still talk to her.)

That said, I admit that I have not been the best prospective husband in the world.  I have communicated with some really sweet women, and I let the relationships wither on the vine.  Because online relationships are not always the easiest.  For me, I need face to face contact to establish a true connection.

But all of this has lead me to believe - the internet is NOT a great place to meet a wife.  I have given up on that a long time ago.  Instead, it is a great place to network with people who share similar beliefs.  So I use the internet to talk to people and tell them what works for me, about my own experience.

That doesn't mean that it can't work online.  I know many people who have met their plural wives online.  I am just saying that it has never worked for ME, personally.

One other pet peeve - the families that allow the wife do do all the sisterwife seeking.  I believe that wives should take a proactive role in the seeking out of wives, but some men turn this responsibility over completely to their wives.  It has been my general observation that such women become monsters.  They become more aggressive in pursuing a woman than a man generally would, and they don't take rejection well.  A man will pine and mourn the loss of a prospective wife quietly, and then move on.  A woman will fume and rage and curse that woman and her posterity and ancestors for all time and eternity.  LOL

Another pet peeve:  She is a "sisterwife" only to your wife, dude.  Not to you.  The lingo is new to the American consciousness, thanks to the show "Sister Wives".  To the man, she is a "plural wife", or even just a "wife".  If you are the man, she cannot be your "sisterwife".  That has some incestuous connotations, and that's just sick.  ;)

But to answer the question:  How do you find a sisterwife?

Answer:  Take a chance.  If it is online, that's fine.  But I am sure that you and your wife know at least one single lady that you would like to see come into your family.  Take a chance and talk to her.  What's the worst that can happen?  She might say no.  But you never know.  She might say yes.

That said, I am still open to any and all questions.  I hope this generates discussion.  Peace.

Gathering Zion

I usually don't use my blog for religious topics, but this video produced my a friend of mine truly speaks for my religious beliefs:

Mother's & Mother's Day

The dilemma is enough for any man - how do you honor the woman who went through the incomprehensible (for men) pain of labor and childbirth on Mother's Day?  Anything you do is going to be trivial by comparison, short of building the Taj Mahal?  And even then...

So what do you two when you have TWO women who must be honored on the same day?  Here are some tips:

1)  You had better do something.  No matter how small and insignificant.  For instance, this photo is from Mother's Day in 2008.  I was broke and jobless, but I got Taco Bell takeout, and we ate in the park.  I wish I could have done better, but that's all I could do at the time.

2)  You had better get them something.  Write a poem.  Make a card.  Something.

3)  You had better not get them the same thing as far as gifts.  I learned that the hard way.  If they get the same gift, then you are denying them the opportunity to be unique and individuals.  You can get them SIMILAR gifts.  Just not the same one.  For instance, I bought them both bracelets yesterday.  But Temple's had butterfly charms to match a special necklace I bought her earlier.  Martha's bracelet was one of those magnetic healing bracelets, since she has been dying to try one for a long time.  I got one wife a CD, and the other one a DVD.  I have a hard time selecting gifts.  So I solve it by buying something similar, but unique enough to match the vibrant personality differences in each wife.

4)  You had better take them out.  Even if it's to the park for Taco Bell.  And since there is only ONE Mother's Day, and since I have TWO wives, necessity dictates that I must take them both out at the same time.  Yesterday, I took them to the local Indian gaming casino for a Mother's Day brunch of prime rib, crab, oysters, shrimp, cherry jubilee, and I toasted them with mimosas.

5)  You had better let them know they are appreciated, and you had better mean it.  After all, these women had to deal with natural jealousies to share one man, and they struggled to bring children into the world for your sake.  Without Martha, without Temple, I am truly nothing.  I am truly lower than the dusts of the earth.  They - along with the precious children they have given me - are the entire purpose of my life, my existence.

Right now, I am jobless and disabled and recovering from my wound.  My whole purpose is to be there for them, for my children, and most of the time, I don't do a good job at that.  But I had to something to make them feel special.  Because I love both of these dear ladies with all of my heart and would be lost without them.

This is how I honored them on Mother's Day.  I hope you were able to honor the special ladies in your life as best as you could as well.

Silly Man Chaff Stubble

This is a poem I wrote several years ago about the sense of displacement a man feels when he lives plural marriage.  A man sometimes feel like he doesn't have a home, like he floats between homes, beds, wives, etc.  Hence, this poem:

silly man chaff stubble

            a similitude but

true

                                                if woman is earth

                        you are blown across

her fertile flesh

tumbling like a tatter

but still

you cannot

            cover her

                                                                        if woman is sky

                                                            you are the little stitch

                                                of sterile substance

lost in immeasurable

                             blue

                             but still

                             you cannot

                                    fill her

                                                   silly man chaff stubble

                                                            flitting indecisive

                                                between beds

                                                            from woman

                                                to woman

                                                lost,

                                                            but with too much home

                                                always

                                                            trying to connect

                                                                    but not quite elastic enough

                                                                       nearly settled until blown

                                                between earth

                                                            and sky

Plural Marriage in the Workplace

I was updating my online journals, adding blog posts I had made on MySpace back in the day and adding them to my journals.  (Yeah, remember MySpace?)  This is one that I posted back in 2007 when I was working at hotel remodeling.  The photo is taken onsite of one of these jobs back then:

It is interesting that - no matter what job I take -
being a polygamist becomes a factor.  Those who know
me know that I left a job as a social worker for the
State of Arizona after ten years due to my lifestyle.

The job I took after that was a position as a project
administrator for a company that remodels hotels all
over the country.  It is a Utah company, although the
owners are not Mormon.

But since they are located in Utah, they hire many
Mormons.  In particular, they hire many Mormon
polygamists, who gravitate towards the construction
industry, for some reason.  The company had already
had a background for hiring many polygamists when I
came on board.

My last name is a dead giveaway, and, at a hotel in
Connecticut, when I met the owner of the company - a
rather school-teacher-ish kind of guy - the first
thing he asked me was, "How many wives do YOU have?"

To which I made some vague reply like : "Too many."

The boss introduced me to a bunch of crew chiefs in
San Diego like this: "This is Moroni.  He has two
wives."

What ensued was an argument - that I was strangely
excluded from - between several tattooed and pierced,
beer-drinking returned missionaries who argued whether
or not I was a real Mormon.

One guy finally said, "He's the REAL Mormon.  We gave
up our teachings.  He's sticking to them."

The boss was very intrigued by my lifestyle, and every
chance we got, he would ask me questions.  "How do you
do it?"

He confided to me about his own relationship.  He
was not a Mormon; his wife was a devout Mormon.  It
caused a conflict.

"Moroni, if I ever become a Mormon, I'll become a
Mormon like you, with lots of wives.  I'd have one
wife run the accounting end of the business.  I'd have
one wife who could do real estate, etc."

"The problem is," I told my boss, "you think that you
will run your wives like you run your business.  But
the problem is - invariably one of your wives will be
like Pat."

Pat was our painter who was always bitching and
moaning, causing problems and just generally
disruptive.

My boss laughed.

I left the company in July, 2005, and came back to
them just 4 weeks ago.  Already, talk started
circulating among employees of the company that a
"polygamist" was coming to work with them.

My roommate was the relative of a guy I knew.  This
guy was well aware that I am a polygamist.  I am sure
that he told his roommate.

I guess I got sick of having to explain myself or
justify myself.  So I resolved to not even talk about
it, unless he asked about it.

I could see the confused expression on his face as I
talked about "my wife".

It became a game to me.  One day, after work, we went
swimming, and he said, "You have, like, 4 kids, or
something, right?"

"Actually," I answered, "I have 9 kids."

"Yeah, someone told me something about that."  That
was the closest I would come to telling him.

One night, Big Love came on HBO, so we watched it
together.

Afterwards, he asked, "So people really live like
that?  Why would anyone want to live like that?"

I just shrugged.

I talked to my supervisor, and he said, "Yeah, he told
me that you haven't said anything about being a
polygamist.  I told him that you probably wouldn't
either."

The way I look at it - I am not ashamed of who I am. 
But I am not going to parade it around to satisfy
people's curiosity, either.  If they want to know,
they have to have the "cajones" to ask me right out,
you know what I'm saying?

The problem is - I think many on the hotel staff know,
too.  I see it in the funny looks I get.  It's nice to
be an oddity, a spectacle.  I just wonder what is so
tough about asking someone, you know?

Anyway, my two cents,

Moroni

Meeting Meri

The polygamy world is convoluted.  We might not all know each other, but we are somehow all connected - either by blood, by marriage, or by common association.  When I meet a fellow Mormon fundamentalist, the icebreaker is usually to play the "do you know who I know" game.

For instance, I have never met Kody Brown of "Sister Wives" fame.  We used to belong to the same polygamous congregation in Utah back in the '90s, and I "kind of" remember him.  I knew his wife Christine back then, but we haven't spoken in twenty years.

But, still, we are all connected.  My wife Martha's brother is married to Meri's sister.  I have never met her, but my wife Martha knows her.  They grew up around each other.  Martha has been in the world of Mormon polygamy world all her life, whereas I am a newcomer.  Meri also grew up in a plural family.  In fact, I knew her dad quite well.  I ran into him at a grocery store in St. Johns, Arizona shortly before he passed away.

Suddenly, the Browns are celebrities, and I had to reach into the dusty closet of my memories to try to remember what associations I had with them back in the day.  I have been away from Utah for quite a long time.

For the past four years, I have helped my brother-in-law run his airbrush booth at the Utah State Fair.  Every year, the Browns come by the booth to say hi to him and his wife.  I don't remember.  I am the counter help, and the Utah State Fair is one of the busiest shows in our season.  I talk to a lot of people all day.

But this past summer, I was watching for the Browns - expecting that they would probably show up, not knowing what I would say.

It wasn't until the last weekend of the fair that a group of sister-in-law's sisters showed up at the booth to visit.  Meri was with them.  I  recognized her immediately, of course.  They made small talk with my brother-in-law and his wife, and then Meri decided to order an airbrushed onesie for Robyn, who was still expecting her new baby at this point.  She wanted it to say, "I Just Spent Nine Months in Solitary Confinement."  There was quite a bit of speculation on the internet about the sex of the baby.  I figured that Meri knew, and I thought that I might be able to guess the sex of the baby based on the colors that she picked.  She picked a neutral green and brown as her background colors - the color brown, because they were the "Brown Family."

I turned from the counter to look at my brother-in-law.  "Do they get the family discount?" I asked him.

"Sure," he answered with a smile.  "Because you are family, after all."

"How are we family?" Meri asked me.

I explained that I was a Jessop, which name is ever ubiquitous in the polygamy world.  I explained that my great grandfather was an uncle to Lyman Jessop, who is the ancestor of most Jessops in Mormon fundamentalism.  I then explained that I was married to Martha.  Of course she knew who Martha was.

Meri and her sisters excused themselves to enjoy the day at the fair while we proceeded to get her onesie done.  When she came back a couple of hours later, I presented her with the onesie.  She thought it was adorable, and she couldn't wait to give it to Robyn.  Then she proceeded to laugh and talk with her sisters.  Apparently, a carnie had recognized her from TV and had made some comment.

Earlier in the week, I had had dinner with my sister, who lives in Utah.  I had asked how the Browns were generally received by most of the polygamists in Utah.  She told me that a lot of them didn't agree with what they were doing.  The world will never accept plural marriage.  And some have even labeled the Brown family as attention seekers.  This sounded all too familiar to me.  I had gone through something similar.

So I had something to say to Meri.

I approached her and said, "Have many polygs taken the time to thank you for what you are doing?"

"No," she answered.

"Well, thank you," I said.  "Thank you for putting yourselves out there for the rest of us."

"You're welcome," she said.  "Are you a polygamist?"

"Yes, I have two wives.  And you may not believe this, but we have actually done a show on TLC back in 2008..."

I proceeded to gush on and on about our experience.  I told her that we only had a TV crew in our house for a couple of days.  I can't imagine having cameras in your face for such an extended period of time.

"Well, it helps if you like your crew," she said.  "And we love our crew."

So Meri and her sisters excused themselves, and I went back to work.

I learned a couple of things from my visit with Meri Brown.

First, the way she kind of looked at me at while I was talking about MY TV experience - I don't think she believed me.  I think that she thought that I was making it up, like I was a pathological liar, trying to "one-up" her, or something.

Second of all, I had always assumed that the Browns knew who I was, since I had come into the spotlight around the same time as them.  My blog is prolific, and I have appeared on TLC and the History Channel.  I was wrong.  Meri Brown had no clue who I was.  She had no idea who my family was or any of the work we have done.  My work has impacted her life not a bit.  LOL

But I did get to thank her, and hopefully - from one polygamist to another - that meant something to her.

Dubstep Summer

For the past four years, I have worked every summer with my brother-in-law, who is an airbrush artist.  He airbrushes t-shirts and is an amazing artist.  We travel all over the western states from fair to fair, camp in tents and live this wonderful bohemian life all summer.  His art usually appeals to the urban, hip hop crowd, and so most of our business takes place at night, the same crowd that comes for the carnival.

We learned early on that music was an essential part of our booth.  When we played music, we noticed that we attracted more people to the booth.  We bought a cheap little boom box, and since I am the music lover, I provided the tunes.  But I played music according to my tastes.  I learned really quick that this wasn't going to work.  One day, my selection of Serge Gainsbourg was snickered at by a teen girl.  I was going to have to cater to the masses.

The second year out, we started experimenting.  We discovered that some types of music attracted people, and some types of music drove people away.  Heavy metal, punk and alternative music repelled people.  Country music was neutral.  It didn't repel, but it really didn't draw people either.  Hip hop attracted people.  Techno attracted people.  And oddly enough, the Ramones drew people.

One of the problems is that - if your music is limited - you get sick of your music really fast.  You have to listen to it all day, every day for weeks.  So I am always trying to improve my playlist.

Last spring (April, 2011), I was downloading music to prepare for the upcoming fair circuit.  Most of it was hip hop.  I use whatever means available to scour for music.  Browsing, but mostly taking suggestions from Facebook friends.

One of my friends (Martha from Chicago) posted a link.  It was to an artist called Skrillex, and her commentary was "Dubstep f****d my mind."  The track was named "Scary Monsters and Nice Sprites".  I had never heard of dubstep, but I listened to the song.  My mind was totally blown.  This was electronic music for deejays.  It was so random, and there were so many changes in the song that one could barely keep up with it.  I was hooked.  I downloaded the song (along with a Skrillex remix of a Black Eyed Peas song) and added it to my playlist.

I am no stranger to electronic music.  While I was an exchange student in Belgium in 1988, I was introduced to the rave scene - before it was called rave.  Acid House.  New Beat.  Techno.  I brought this music back with me, and by 1989, all of the underground clubs were pumping this music.  I was totally into it.  We were clubbing four nights a week - all so that we could listen to the music.  I even wore the smiley face buttons.  I was a regular denizen at all of the raves in Phoenix.

I do believe that it was DeLaSoul that once said (rapped), "Everyone wants to be a deejay."  I was no exception.  I had no equipment, but I dubbed some very good mix tapes.  I had a huge vinyl collection.  I even deejayed a couple of parties.  My dream was to open a club.  I even had my eye on an old warehouse that would make a great club.  In 1990, I moved to Utah and auditioned as a deejay at Club DV8.  House music had not quite made it to Utah.  I didn't get the gig.

So 21 years later, I discover dubstep, and it has all of the electronic magic that acid house once had.  I found myself in a pickup truck, hauling airbrush equipment, on my way up north to start our fair circuit.  I put a CD in for my brother-in-law to show him my playlist.  He listened to Skrillex for the first time, and he - like me - was totally blown away.

Our first gig was a summer festival in Utah.  I only had two Skrillex songs in my repertoire, but I had a tremendous response from them.  Tremendous!  "Is that dubstep?!"  "Is that Skrillex?!"  The sounds drew crowds to our booth like none other.  I went home that night and downloaded the whole Skrillex catalog.  Plus, people would come up to me randomly and make suggestions of other dubstep artists - deadmau5, Nero, Bassnectar, Datsik, Mt. Eden Dubstep, Notixx, etc.  I was downloading music every night, updating my playlist.

By the end of June, we had the best booth in any show we went to - bright lights, a colorful display, my brother-in-law's mad airbrush skills, and the "sickest" music blaring out into the night.  Nobody else had a booth like ours.  We got praise every night - not just on the art, but on the music selection.  My brother-in-law was introducing me as his deejay.

What we didn't know was that we had timed this just right - the beginning of summer of 2011 was the beginning of the dubstep explosion in the United States.  And I was fulfilling my dream of being a deejay - at 41 years-old.  I was making sounds that were drawing in and amazing people.  It wasn't uncommon to have people start dancing in front of our booth.

At first, I was just using my phone connected to a speaker.  By July, in Wyoming, I was deejaying live from my laptop.

By the end of the summer, the dubstep craze was dying down.  And this is how you could tell - at the beginning of the summer, in June, the people that were coming to us and talking about our music were all college students.  By the end of the summer, by September, it was little kids who were asking, "Is this dubstep?"

But we caught it when it was just starting out, and that was exciting.  I don't think I will be going on the fair circuit this summer due to health issues.  (I wish I was.  I love the mad bohemian lifestyle.)  But I am certain that many booths will be blaring dubstep in the summer of 2012.  But we were the first.  We were innovators.  And  yes, I am saying that with a little pride.

So people asked me, "What did you do this summer?"

And I responded, "I deejayed hot music for thousands of people every day all summer.  What did you do?"