"Missing Me": A Tribute to Jacob Divett

Jacob Divett with my cousin Mitchell Sego at "River of Lights" several winters ago.

As many of you know, there are many Jacobs in my life.

First, there was Jacob Greenwood, the smelly boy from church who used to pass gas in Mr. Peter's Senior Honors English Class in high school. Jacob always sounded stuffy because he'd had his adenoids out as a child. He was actually a little mean when we were young, particularly in that he tended to spoil surprise parties by letting the honorees know secret plans in advance. However, he managed to redeem himself a bit as he got older by telling stories about how fabulous I was to his friends at school, and he later introduced me to an important boyfriend in my life. He was odd, but he's a decent chap for sure. Now he's married and I wish him every happiness, as well as easier breathing.

Then, there was of course, Jacob Hatch. Hatch is my "boyfriend" who comes home from his mission in South Africa sometime or other this summer (I'm a heck of a girlfriend, aren't I?). He's a vegan and when I first laid eyes on him, his hair was a blond mullet and he was doing a crazy dance with glow sticks. I was instantly smitten. Later, when he gave me a Valentine sonnet (that he pretended I'd inspired, but really it was a leftover from class), I loved him even more. He took me to hear Switchfoot and made me Mary Kay LaTourneau. We liked to hold hands in church to get a big fit out of a certain Rachel James who'd rant and rave about how disgusting our age difference was (I maintain she's just jealous). That Jacob holds a large part of my heart.

Recently, I've been somewhat devoted to Jacob Dial. Dial is friends with my little pal Rudy ("little pal" because English lacks an appropriate diminutive, not a reference to Rudy's physical stature), and Rudy has been good enough to share his friend with me. I find conversations with said Jacob stimulating and sweet. I wore a temporary tattoo to a recent party, just to be like him (his tat is real, though). Jacob Dial likes to establish himself as the Alpha Male in any situation, and sometimes "fights" with Rudy for my love and honor. It's really amazing.

But as fantastic as those Jacobs all are, no one can touch Jacob Divett.

The night I met Jacob Divett. Miriam invited me to "River of Lights." She told me what a big crush she had on J.D. My cousin was my "date," I guess. Mostly I remember them teaching me a crazy card game, which I ended up winning, and Mitchell running to the window every few minutes to check the status of a big blizzard coming in (he's a meteorologist, he can't help it).

OK, confession. The truth is, I haven't really even seen Jacob Divett in ages. Well, I saw him a couple weeks ago when he went to a dance and wore his 1970s General Authority Glasses (I noticed, because I had mine on as well), but we didn't talk. I didn't want to cramp his style, I guess. But either he is busy, busy, busy or he is wicked mad at me (perhaps for making fun of the other band at his last concert? or because I only RSVP'd "maybe" for the next one? or because I told him he ought to be a better friend to me because I was sad he was going to the Eubank Ward instead of visiting the University Branch, and now he's afraid I'm in love with him [to which, I must sadly confess I would be if I didn't have a couple Jacobs in front of him, plus a few others]? or...? Who knows?). Regardless, in a desperate ploy for his attention and friendship, I hereby dedicate this blog post to him.

As you can see, Jacob has no qualms with being kissed by women, even married ones. Though at the time this picture was taken, Miriam was still single and not married happily ever after to Nick Wood, the true love of her life. Still, Jacob loves the ladies. One time I insinuated he was non-threatening, and he thought I meant I thought he was gay. For the record, girls, Jacob has raging testosterone. Or so he says.

The truth is, I'm rather ill-equipped to give a broad tribute to this man. In the friendship spectrum, he's more than an acquaintance, but not my bosom-buddy. I forget that sometimes because I'm an avid fan of his music and even more of his writing (see link above). Even when it's only humorous and not about anything real at all, I think, "Whoa! This guy is my friend! Awesome!" Through his blog, I've learned so many things that only a best friend (or a stalker) would know. Like just how hairy his legs are. Seems like there are a lot of those pictures.

It seems to me we had to fight off a bunch of little kids to get this picture. Jacob beats children. Just kidding. He's actually a child-advocate. For a living. Get this man a white horse and some armor!

So while I'm not quite the Jacob Authority I'd like to be, I submit to my readers this non-exhaustive list of Things I like about Jacob:

1. When we met, he wore Converse All Stars. As you all know, that's the first way I judge people. By their footwear.
2. He pretends to be old and jaded and mean, but he's not.
3. We once hung out in a bookstore, and he let me ramble on and on for hours about all the books I loved.
4. The ringtone on his phone is the Outfield's "Your Love." When I first heard his phone ringing, I thought it was just playing on my iPod. In fact, my iPod playlists have been greatly influenced by him. I wouldn't have MXPX on there without him. Or as many Kings of Leon. Sometimes, it actually makes me mad if he makes reference to some song or another on his blog that is on my playlist. Recently, there was an allusion to Paul Simon, and I thought, "Stop stalking my MP3 player, Divett." But he loves R.E.M. and didn't treat me like I was deranged when I told him about my great love for Michael Stipe and my yearly dreams of making out with him (M.S., not J.D.).
5. He doesn't really eat very much meat. I'm not sure why this is an admirable quality, but maybe it just validates my own lifestyle.
6. He has excellent taste in friends-- read: Miriam Moody Wood, the girl who brought us together as prospective comrades.
7. His social causes are borne of legitimate thought, experience, and reflection, rather than a hypocritical and trite affectation. I've not always agreed with everything he's said, but he's made me stop to consider alternatives, and I know his stances on issues come from careful analysis, not a pop-culture or talk-radio icon telling him what to think.
8. He can change oil, because he worked at Jiffy Lube. When he didn't have a job at the beginning of this summer, I tried to tell him my cousins (Pest Defense owners Justin and Garret) had openings, but he's clearly not doing that. He may be the only Mormon boy I know who's never sold pest control, and that is doggone impressive.
9. Everything he says is either thoughtful, interesting, or funny--At the best of times (most of the time), all three.
10. We once did an experimental beauty treatment together, with pleasant results. If he wasn't mad at me before, he will positively hate me now. But doing odd little things with Jacob Divett seems positively right, because while socially normalized and acceptable, he is far from ordinary. It feels like being his friend would be an adventure.

A weird reason for loving this less-than-attractive picture of the two of us: Our skin looks all freckly in the light. I don't know. Somehow it makes our mutual beauty so much more approachable! ;)

Sorry, Jacob. I have no intention of embarrassing you. I just think you're tops. Rock on!