Reach Upward

Three Consecutive Winter Camp Weekends

2012-01-28T12:28:00.001-07:00

My son and I slept in a tent last night on our troop's camp out about four miles from last week's Klondike Derby. Last week the low temperature for the night hovered around 35°F. As described in the linked post, it was wet and rainy. Last night the sky was completely clear all night long. The stars were amazing. The low temperature was very close to 0°F.

Despite the recent snowstorm, there was far too little snow to construct a proper snow shelter. Nor was it of a quality that could be used for an adequate shelter. The 7-8 inches of snow that was on the ground was hard, crusted, and crystalline. It wouldn't pack worth a darn. So, like last week, we campers resorted to tents.

Actually, only my son and I slept in a tent last night. The rest of the troop's campers slept in a cabin heated by a wood burning stove. Nobody else came prepared to brave the low temperatures.

It was cold getting into our sleeping bags. But we have good bags that are rated for this kind of weather. There was very little breeze of any kind during the night. There was no precipitation. But the tent still offered very little insulation. Still, once inside the bags, we were OK.

My young son slept plenty warm. I bring a knit cap with me on cold weather camp outs. If it's cold enough, I don my cap. The colder it is, the further I pull the cap down on my head. Last night I pulled the cap all the way down until it covered the tip of my nose. I cinched up the sleeping bag hood so that only my nose stuck out—just enough to breathe.

Despite my gear and preparations, my feet were cold much of the night. I have noticed that since developing hypothyroidism, my extremities (especially fingers and toes) get cold very easily. It's almost as if they can never really get warm, despite taking the proper dosage of Levothyroxine. Even in the hottest weather, my fingers and toes only feel marginally comfortable.

I still slept relatively OK throughout the night. But I have determined that for future cold weather camp outs I will have to come prepared with glove warmers. If temperatures warrant it, I will have to activate a couple and chuck them into the bottom of my sleeping bag half an hour before bedding down.

We broke down part of our gear before breakfast, and took care of the rest after breakfast. I guess I was hoping that the rising sun would melt the frost and dry out the tent. It soon became clear (as it warmed up to somewhere around 12°F) that this was a vain hope. We pulled everything down and dried it out in the driveway once we got home.

I don't mind supporting scout camp outs. But I'm glad that this particular compacted season of three weekends in a row is finished. I think my wife is happy about that too.

Love Gets Better With Time

2012-01-25T13:40:00.000-07:00

Despite our busy family schedule, we work hard to schedule a weekly date with each other away from the home. Sometimes we are so busy that we get away for only an hour. Occasionally our date may include such mundane tasks as running errands. But we make it a priority to get some time each week just for the two of us.

One afternoon a couple of weeks ago, my wife and I enjoyed lunch at a decent downtown restaurant. I enjoyed the atmosphere and the fare. It is our habit when we eat out to sit next to rather than across from each other. That was not possible on this occasion, since we were seated at a table that could accommodate only two.

As we relaxed after the meal, we held hands across the table while our server processed our bill and payment. We eventually stood and I helped my wife don her jacket. My Mom taught me as a teenager to always help my dates with their jackets, to treat them with respect, to open the door for them, and to otherwise act gentlemanly. She made it clear that this was to carry on into marriage.

As we made our way toward the door, we passed our server, who was busy helping bus a table. I stopped and asked if she would give my compliments to the chef for the dish I had enjoyed. It had been quite delectable.

The server surprised us by telling us how much she had enjoyed watching us dine. She was obviously sincere as she expressed how wonderful it was to see two people together that "like each other so much." She said, "It gives me a lot of hope." It gives me joy to think that our example might have given someone else a glimmer of hope.

My wife and I wed a respectable number of years ago. I recall how much I enjoyed spending time with her during our courtship and during the early years of our marriage. I still enjoy spending time with my wife. If anything, I find more fulfillment now in being together with her than in our early days together.

We have been through a lot together. Our bond has developed a depth and strength that simply wouldn't have been possible without our many years of shared experience.

My wife is a remarkable individual. She is a beautiful woman, even in middle age. She is intelligent, thoughtful, and spiritual. She is devoted, loving, and service oriented.

And she is enduring. My wife has put up with my many foibles and idiosyncrasies throughout the years. When I have faced trials, or even perceived trials, she has been there supporting me and alleviating as much stress as possible. In short, she has put up with me. Lovingly. Kindly. Patiently. Endlessly.

It is impossible to imagine what my life would have been like had my wife and I not (miraculously) come together when we did. It is impossible to adequately express my gratitude for my wonderful wife. I pray that we will yet have many years together and that our love for each other will continue to deepen and strengthen.

Wet Klondike Derby

2012-01-21T14:36:00.002-07:00

Another Klondike Derby has passed into history. As predicted, it was wet and unseasonably warm. I checked the hourly forecast before heading to the camp yesterday afternoon. As the evening progressed, the temperature and precipitation tracked the Internet forecast very closely.

Around 7:30 pm we stood under clear skies looking at the constellations. By the time we wrapped up the campfire program around 9:15, no stars could be seen due to the cloud cover that had moved in. It was about 35°, which is pretty warm for that location at that time of day and this time of year.

About 300 people attended the event. In the early morning hours light rain began to fall. Those that were prepared did OK. Of course, some got rather wet. But the temperature was still hovering around 35-37°. So it wasn't bitter cold.

The adults in charge of the event stood around under a bowery with a corrugated metal roof discussing how to proceed. The metal roof made it sound like it was raining a lot harder than was the case. Some suggested cancelling the morning events and sending everyone home. The forecast, after all, called for the rain to switch to snow. Some were concerned about getting vehicles up the slope and out of the campground area, given that the road was already slippery.

We gathered at the flag pole at the appointed hour and held flag ceremony in the rain. The man in charge of the event then gave the campers two options: go home now or move ahead with the games. He asked the senior patrol leader of each troop to indicate whether they were staying or going. Most campers enthusiastically shouted out that they wanted to participate in the games. So the games went ahead, despite the doubts of some of the adults running the games.

As I made the rounds and spoke with the event masters, almost every one of them had assumed that the events would be cancelled. Most were surprised at the boys' insistence on holding the games in drizzly weather.

This is a common dichotomy that I have observed throughout my adult scouting years. Boys tend to be far more willing than their adult advisers to engage in adventure. Maybe that's to be expected. After all, the boys only have to worry about how they are faring individually, while the adults have to worry about the safety of all of their youth and the amount of additional work that will be required.

Not long after the games started, the rain switched to snow. Big wet and fluffy, densely patterned flakes fell on the competitors. This didn't seem to dampen their mood. Many seemed to quite enjoy themselves. The games were a success. However, the crowd thinned out rapidly after about an hour and a half. I watched vehicle after vehicle make its way up the slippery slope toward the main road.

After cleaning up, I headed home with my crew. It was snowy for the first few miles. Then we drove through rain mixed with snow. The pass I wanted to take was blocked by a sheriff's deputy due to some hazard, so we had to take another route. As we drove down the canyon toward the city we ended up in rain. I eventually got home and took care of my wet gear.

It has been raining here at home since I returned. Just a few minutes ago the rain switched to big fluffy snowflakes that are rapidly building up on the surfaces outside. Later on I will ponder whether to go out and clear snow or to let it melt off, since the forecast suggests that it may be warm enough tomorrow for that to happen.

Heading to Klondike Derby Again

2012-01-20T12:05:00.000-07:00

I am gearing up to head off to another Boy Scout Klondike overnighter event. But for the first time in a number of years, I am not in charge of the event. Those duties passed to another some months ago as I transitioned to being the chapter adviser for the Order of the Arrow in my scout district.

The O.A. has traditionally provided traffic direction services at our district Klondike events. But this year, due to a change in venue, those services won't be required. Instead, we will be handling the evening and morning flag ceremonies and the evening campfire program. We will also provide general staff services, such as cleanup, supporting scoutcraft games, etc.

Today I feel completely different about the event than I have for the past few years. I used to get up on the Friday morning of the event anticipating all of the work I had to do, all of the people I had to rely on, and the fickleness of winter weather in northern Utah. I had no idea whether we would get enough people out to the event to break even. I hoped that, despite hundreds of scouts and adults camping in winter conditions, injuries would be few and good memories would be made.

It felt like the weight of the world was on my shoulders. I knew that I would enjoy many interactions with people, but that I would also face many frustrations inherent in running an event of this nature. I would finally get everything packed up and hauled home on Saturday and would finally have everything cleaned up by evening. I would be physically and psychologically spent.

Looking forward to tonight is a lark in comparison. While I have responsibilities, they are relatively easy. I know how to run flag ceremonies and campfire programs. While I'm not sure how many O.A. youth I will have present, these events can be flexible enough to accommodate just about any number of boys. Moreover, I only have to worry about handling camping conditions for my small group rather than 400 people.

We have had an unusually dry winter in this area. We went through a long bitter cold spell during much of December that was marked by a nasty inversion that limited visibility. That broke just before Christmas. The weather has been unseasonably warm since then.

Just this week a wet and stormy pattern moved into the area. A lot of wet and heavy snow has fallen in the mountains. We have had snow in the valley, but most of it has melted due to warm temperatures and rain. The conditions are ripe for avalanches.

The area where we have traditionally held our Klondike events is relatively flat with few nearby slopes that could host an avalanche. The area where we are headed tonight is closer to slopes that could present dangerous avalanche conditions. (See Utah Avalanche Center for information.)

The campers will be safe as long as they stay in the camping area. Adults will have to keep close tabs on youth to keep them in bounds. The warm, damp weather means that most campers will get a little wet. Some will get very wet. On the positive side, it won't be very cold tonight.

I have long supported overnight scouting events. Last week I slept on the concrete floor of a building in Evanston, Wyoming at one event. I will be camping tonight at our district Klondike event. Next week I will sleep out again with my son at our troop overnighter. I am happy to support these events. But it would sure be nice if they weren't so closely bunched together. My wife and I will be glad when these three camping weekends are past.

Another Voter Questionnaire

2012-01-17T19:35:00.000-07:00

I recently received a voter questionnaire from one of the politicians that represent me. (He represents such a huge number of other people that my level of insignificance would be difficult to calculate.) I usually just chuck these things in the recycling bin.

For starters, these questionnaires are not actually meant to provide useful feedback to the politician. They are filled with leading questions designed to elicit certain responses. These mailers amount to little more than campaign literature.

By sending out voter questionnaires, the politician hopes to get you thinking that he is the right guy to represent you. He is hoping to increase the chances that you will vote for him. He does not actually expect to derive any kind of guidance from this process.

Any response to these mailers is a bonus. The politician uses these responses for campaign purposes and as backup for positions he has already taken. I'm sure that almost all politicians will say, dripping with sincerity, that they honestly consider all feedback from their questionnaires. If you buy this shtick, you are worthy of being the pawn they hope you to be.

To be frank, filling out and returning a political mailer with the idea that it will actually influence a politician is ridiculous. Except perhaps at the very lowest local levels, the politicians that represent you have already made up their minds on most issues, having been influenced by professional and semi-professional lobbyists.

Your response will not change what a politician does. It may change what he says about what he does, but it won't change what he does—the deals he makes and the votes he casts.

In case you haven't noticed, I am rather cynical about politics and politicians. Many of our nation's founders felt that politics was a necessary evil—a nasty tool that was needed to achieve good republican government that hoped to balance the rights of the minority and the majority with some level of success

The political system was needed to pit the forces of ambition and avarice against each other for the good of all. But like all dangerous tools, it was meant to be used with great care and with proper safeguards in place.

Throughout the years, some have sought (sometimes successfully) to remove political safeguards because they are so darn inconvenient and prevent "us" from "getting anything done." A whole class of people has emerged that has, in effect, turned politics into their personal religion. They seek to expand its grasp and power with a zeal rarely seen in modern Western religionists.

Politicians may be needed to achieve what our Founders called "good government." But that doesn't mean that I have to like it or that I have to make the pursuit of their craft easier.

Personality Affects Weight

2012-01-11T14:19:00.001-07:00

Today's Wall Street Journal offers this intriguing article about the link between personality and weight control. Some of the information in the article is by no means new. After all, it has long been common knowledge that some people turn to food for comfort and that people often eat for reasons other than hunger.

The WSJ article goes further than this, tying certain personality types to a greater propensity for becoming and remaining overweight. Five broad categories are listed:

The Night Owl.
The Stress Junkie.
The Mindless Multitasker.
The Giver.
The Perfectionist.

The fixes suggested in the article, however, are overly simplistic. Maybe that's to be expected from a brief news article. But telling someone who is a lifelong perfectionist to "Try to set realistic goals; strive for progress, not perfection" is just silly. It's not that perfectionists don't know or haven't been told this kind of thing. It's that such an approach goes completely against their internal operating system.

I began grappling with weight issues as a teen. 24 years ago I embarked on a yearlong journey that resulted in significant weight loss. Today I weigh 70 lbs less than I weighed in January 1988. I have had to work over these years to keep the weight off. It hasn't been an easy ride.

As someone that has grappled with weight throughout my adult life, I have found some principles that seem to work for me. But these same things might not work for someone else.

Not only do humans necessarily have an inherent physical connection to food, we have a deep psychological relationship with food. Since our psyches differ, what works for one person cannot be universally applied. Each person needs an individually tailored approach.

Moreover, our psyches change over time. So what works for you today may not work for you at some future point. Your health maintenance system has to evolve with your personality.

A relative recently sent me dietary advice, suggesting things that should be avoided and things that should be more abundant in my diet. Frankly, almost all of it amounted to little more than fine tuning. Many of the suggestions were also very expensive—the kinds of things people with lots of disposable income do to make themselves feel important.

I personally believe that any successful dietary program has to focus primarily on the macro rather than the micro. Finding a way to manage total calorie intake while feeling satisfied will produce far better results than all of the organic dietary tweaking in the world. Take a whack at the 80% and worry about the 20% later (if you can afford it).

Besides, the prideful side of me didn't want to take the relative's advice. Despite having Multiple Sclerosis and hypothyroidism, I am in pretty fine health for my age. I figured that I could start thinking about the advice offered when the giver of the advice slimmed down to where their gut didn't overlap their belt buckle.

People tend to want some kind of simple (magical) solution to complex issues. When it comes to weight control, we like to think that some pill or some minor tweaking of our diet will help us achieve optimal weight. Actually, we know deep inside that this won't work, but we often pursue such courses anyway because they are preferable to making the actual sacrifices that must be made to achieve the kind of results we imagine we want.

The fact is that no single weight control system works for everyone. If such a thing existed there wouldn't be hundreds (thousands?) of weight control offerings on the market.

Another hard truth is that the only way to find a method that works for you individually is to make a serious commitment and to experiment on yourself until you hit on something that works reasonably well for you.

And here's more bad news. No matter what you find, it's going to require a lot of sacrifice.

No wonder so many people continue to remain overweight. The physical, psychological, and financial costs of getting skinny simply aren't worth it to them.

Data Based Policies

2012-01-10T20:28:00.001-07:00

People often develop courses of action based on data. We do this in our personal lives. It happens in organizations of every size. In fact, we think it ridiculous for people to make decisions without supporting data.

But sometimes when we develop plans based on data, we use faulty, inadequate, misinterpreted, or poorly correlated data.

For years I have camped with Scouting groups that occasionally make what we call ZIPLOC omelets for breakfast. It works like this. Each person breaks however many eggs they are going to eat into a freezer strength ZIPLOC (or other brand) bag. They add shredded cheese, bacon bits, diced ham, salt and pepper to taste. They squeeze all of the excess air out of the bag and seal it tight.

The bag is then dropped into a kettle of boiling water for about 10 minutes to cook. When there is no longer any liquid egg in the bag (you have to squeeze the concoction to make sure), it's ready to eat. You can dump it onto a plate or eat it right out of the bag. The process is quick and the mess is minimal.

On one camp a couple of years ago, one scout's mother refused to allow him to have a ZIPLOC omelet for breakfast because she had heard a news report stating that cooking food in such bags can cause cancer. Her concerns were not unfounded. As explained in this About.com article, ZIPLOC bags are not designed for boiling and can break down under such temperatures.

While we should use boil-able pouches (yes, they are available), this mother's concerns were way overblown. Her son is not going to contract cancer from having two or three ZIPLOC omelets during his time in the Scouting program. When one considers the other far more hazardous fare consumed by this family, it would seem that the anti-ZIPLOC omelet rule is like straining at the gnat while swallowing the camel.

Sometimes we see a good trend and assume that an organization or a population could achieve better results by enticing or forcing people to follow that trend. This sometimes gets the equation backwards and produces less than optimal results.

A few years ago when I was serving in a leadership position in my LDS ward (congregation), the church announced that it was raising the standard for young men to serve as missionaries for the church. When we understood the scope of the new rules, my congregation's leader confided that one missionary serving from our ward wouldn't be serving if the policy had been in place a few months earlier. Within a few months the young man left his mission early.

The rationale for the policy seemed well founded. But I wondered how the old policy had come about. After all, during my missionary days, the church would take almost anyone that met minimal qualifications. Leaders would go to great lengths to keep some of these people on their missions when common sense might have dictated otherwise.

I started to connect dots as I attended leadership meetings over the following couple of years and spoke with acquaintances that had some inside information. Church leaders had data showing that those that faithfully completed missions for the church were far more likely to remain faithful in the church and be successful in family life than those that did not. The natural conclusion was to assume that getting more young men to complete full-time missions would extend those results.

My understanding (which may be inadequate) is that church policy was based on this assumption for many years until they developed more data that demonstrated this assumption to be false. Young men that barely qualified for missionary service or that stayed on missions by the skin of their teeth fared no better in church activity and family life than those that never served as missionaries.

When I was a missionary, Elder Robert D. Hales (who was then a Seventy and now serves in the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles) visited our mission a couple of times. During one meeting he encouraged missionaries not to be "a Harry." He then related the following joke.

A man went golfing every Saturday morning with his friend Harry. One Saturday afternoon the man returned home looking awful. His wife asked him what was wrong. "You wouldn't believe it!" he moaned. "Harry had a heart attack on the 10th hole." "Oh my goodness," his wife responded, "That must have been awful." "It sure was," said the man. "For the next eight holes it was hit one, drag Harry, hit one, drag Harry."

Elder Hales said that some of our missionaries were like Harry when it came to missionary work. Their companions had to drag them around to get anything done. "You know who you are," he said.

When it became apparent that some of the "Harrys" in the mission field weren't themselves being helped by being there, raising the standards for missionary service was a natural response.

It is well known that the average bachelor degree recipient earns far more over their lifetime than the average high school graduate that has no college education (see L.A. Times article). The natural thinking is that getting more people into college and more people graduating from college would dramatically increase lifetime earnings for those that otherwise wouldn't go to college. This has driven public and private policy for many years now.

But it turns out that many degree recipients that would not have gotten a degree in earlier years do not earn more (or much more) over a lifetime than they would have earned sans a college education (see Jan 2011 post). The reason for this is that they get degrees that are not worth much in the job market. Or they get decent degrees but cannot perform jobs that produce higher income.

Not all college degrees are created equally. So, while the average college graduate out-earns the average high school graduate, there is such a broad variance in the value of a college degree that many now graduate college with mountains of debt and little or no increased earning capacity to show for it.

Perhaps it would be wise to ask what characteristics distinguish higher earning people. This includes far more than a college diploma. Giving someone a diploma that lacks the other (and probably more important) characteristics of a higher earner will not make them earn more over their lifetime.

Much of this attitude that still pervades higher education was at the root of our recent crash in the housing market. For years public and private policy assumed that society would be better off if more Americans owned their homes. Data showed that homeowners had lower rates of crime, greater family stability, and better financial performance than non-homeowners.

In an effort to try to get these kinds of benefits for those that didn't own homes, gargantuan sums of public money were poured into housing subsidies (with a fair amount of it ending up in the pockets of well-heeled bankers, heads of quasi-government agencies, and politicians).

But the nouveau homeowners did not turn out to have lower rates of social problems than their non-home-owning counterparts. A fair number of them couldn't actually pay for the homes they were enticed into buying. The market has had to absorb all of that, exacting a nasty price from almost everyone.

Maybe it would be wise to take a humility pill when thinking that we have data that proves that we can make people's lives better if only we can get them to pursue some course of action, especially when incentives and/or coercion are involved. These are too often simply demonstrations of hubris.

I have no problem with inviting people to pursue worthy actions. This is what marketing is all about. It is what missionary work is all about. But whenever we start thinking that we have ways to shortcut the system, we are creating future problems that someone will have to clean up.

Angels We Have Heard

2011-12-27T13:05:00.004-07:00

I sat happily among the choir seats in the chapel on Sunday morning. Our family had completed its annual Christmas Day tradition of breakfast cereal and gift opening. (Each child gets a personal box of whichever cereal they most desire.) Gifts had been enjoyed and all had had plenty of opportunity to indulge in a broad variety of holiday treats.

We had managed to get everyone through the shower and properly dressed and groomed in plenty of time for church. Those of our children that were not in the choir were seated with their two grandmothers on the second row of the chapel. So all was good.

The choir director handed out a flyer outlining the Christmas program for our worship service. I was, of course, quite familiar with the five numbers the choir would be singing. But I also saw on the program two numbers of which I had been previously unaware. A talented soloist was singing a number and the Primary children would be singing Angels We Have Heard On High.

I wondered how the children's number would work out, logistically speaking. We have enough children in our congregation that they would fill the choir seats. It would make for an odd spectacle to have the choir members move out temporarily while the children sang.

But the director said nothing about the matter, so I assumed she knew what she was doing. She did. And so did the children. When the moment arrived, the children throughout the congregation stood in place as the director led them in singing this familiar Christmas hymn.

Ordinarily the children in our congregation sing this hymn with tremendous gusto, but this performance was rather weak. From my vantage point in the choir seats I saw many of the children that would normally be singing powerfully singing rather timidly. Some seemed to be so horridly embarrassed to be standing at all that they stood uncomfortably without singing.

One of the reasons you can get more volume from a group of singers standing near each other is that each derives confidence from his fellows as they identify together as a group and can more easily hear each other sing. Unless one is a particularly confident singer, standing apart will make him feel like an individual rather than part of a group.

Despite the overall lackluster rendition of the hymn, there were a few clear and sweet tones coming from some of the children throughout the chapel. The great reward for me was that my youngest son and my daughter were among these. They sang strongly, purely, and earnestly from the second row of the chapel, seemingly undaunted by the timidness of their companions

It was a powerful and sweet experience for me that will become a cherished Christmas memory for years to come.

Puppy Wars

2011-12-17T19:36:00.003-07:00

My wife and I both grew up as dog owners. But throughout our marriage we have managed to refrain from owning fur bearing pets of any kind. Until now.

It's not that our kids haven't pestered us for pets of various kinds. They have. And we have had pets—mostly fish and amphibians. But, as my kids have frequently reminded me, you can't really cuddle a fish. The level of interaction with a fish in an aquarium is far different from that of a pet with which you can hold, talk to, and play with.

Although I have Multiple Sclerosis, I work very hard at maintaining the best level of health possible. Years ago a series of studies looked into the affects of pets on the health of people with MS. From my study of the research, it seemed to me that fur bearing house pets somewhat adversely affected the physical progress of MS, but that those that had pets were psychologically happier.

I surmised that I'd rather be able to continue to walk, talk, and provide for my family than enjoy the warm fuzzies I felt as a pet owner. Of course, it is quite possible to have an outdoor pet. But most residential outdoor pets end up in the house sooner or later. So for years we demurred each time a child would put forth arguments for getting a fur bearing pet.

A couple of months ago, we discovered that pet ownership can be beneficial for people that deal with certain challenges faced by my youngest son. My boy immediately latched onto that as license—or more correctly, a prescription—for getting a "real" pet. Given that it would have to be an outdoor pet, that meant something like a rabbit, cat, or dog.

I didn't think much of this to begin with, but then I noticed that my wife was giving the matter serious consideration. She was doing real research into various pets. My son was consulting closely with friends and neighbors that were pet owners.

I immediately started putting up arguments for why we should maintain our long-term policy of not welcoming fur bearing pets into our home. Pets can impose a rather significant expense on a family's budget. I repeated my longstanding arguments against owning such pets.

But I privately told my wife that if we had to get a pet, it would have to be a dog. I get along just fine with cats. But I am not a cat person. My wife agreed. But she could see the chink in my armor that translated into tacit approval to get a dog.

Soon more members of the family got into the research. They were exploring various breeds and checking for availability of puppies. At first they were looking at mini Dachshunds. While this breed doesn't shed, it seems more like an indoor breed.

Eventually they were looking at hardier outdoor breeds. Some family members liked the Shiba Inu breed, which originated in Japan. It was my understanding, however, that this breed can tend to be somewhat ornery. Then my oldest son discovered a breed that was a cross between an American Eskimo and a Shiba Inu called an Imo-Inu. This breed can live outdoors, doesn't get too big, is not too noisy, tends to have a decent temperament, and self grooms.

Before long, my wife located a family with a litter of six Imo-Inu puppies. She, my youngest son, and my daughter recently visited this family and returned with an eight-week-old puppy that is mostly white. Per my oldest son's suggestion, the dog has been dubbed Shiranui—a Japanese term for Will-o'-the-whisp. But in the instance cited by my son (who is a fan of Anime), Shiranui means White Star and is ascribed to a legendary white wolf that performed a heroic deed.

We've only had the puppy for three days. Although he seems to be quite smart and is doing fair at eliminating outdoors, he has already tinkled on the carpet a dozen times. As I predicted, we have already spent loads of unbudgeted money for shelter, food, shots, toys, etc. Our whole family's schedule is now being controlled by caring for a puppy. And the dog is inside the house a lot of the time.

But the puppy has already captured the hearts of every family member. Including mine.

School Music Programs

2011-12-07T12:38:00.001-07:00

I have attended many junior high and middle school band and choir concerts over the years, including the years in which I played in school bands. Most of the performances at these concerts have ranged from extremely awful to tolerable. But that's to be expected. After all, we're talking about beginning musicians for the most part.

Last night I had the pleasure of attending the band concert at my son's charter school. It was a vast departure from the normal fare offered by band students in his age group. But in the 3+ years our children have been attending this school, we have come to expect a higher level of excellence.

Although most of the students in the beginning band had never played a band instrument before school began this year, they played remarkably well last night. I'd say that they did at least as well as any 'advanced' junior high band I have heard in standard public schools. The advanced band was actually quite superb.

While Utah's charter schools are public schools, they function differently than schools in standard public school districts because they minimize administration and overhead in favor of focusing resources on the students. Charter schools are usually too small to offer some of the features available in standard public schools, but they also offer many opportunities that simply don't exist in those schools.

My son's band director handles all music related duties at the charter school he attends. She elicits a high degree of quality from the students. It is interesting to watch how well even young children enthusiastically step up and perform songs at school events (sometimes even in foreign languages). This music teacher is demanding, but the students obviously respond well to her methods.

Of course, it is rare for a Kindergartener or a middle-schooler to have a music teacher that has master and doctorate degrees in music, has been a professional symphony orchestra musician, can play many instruments, and can relate well with children. Musical teachers of that caliber aren't often found teaching children in public schools. I suspect that it's more of a labor of love for this music teacher, as she obviously has opportunity for greater earning and notoriety outside of this venue.

Another son began studying band with this same teacher a few years ago before transitioning to a junior high where he played in the advanced band. Before long he dropped out of this band because its general quality was far below the beginning band at the charter school. He simply couldn't stand it.

He transitioned to choir. That turned out to be great, because the choir director was energetic and demanding. Sadly, she moved on to a different school this year because my son's school cut back on funding for music programs. The new choir director is a very nice lady. She has tremendous vocal talent.

But once again, my son has gotten to where he can't stand the class because his new teacher seems incapable of demanding excellence from her students. It's amazing what students will do when excellence is demanded. Lack of this reduces student motivation.

I have noticed that the percentage of students involved in choir and band has dropped off since my day. I think that part of this is because students now have more options available than we did a generation ago. Perhaps this has diffused funding to the point that schools are less able to pay for quality music instruction.

Some argue that arts funding should be pulled from public schools completely in favor of focusing on core curriculum. Given the deplorable state of student performance in core subjects even while greater focus and funding have been directed at those subjects, I am dubious that this would prove to be a productive approach. Especially in light of the fact that IQ universally improves in students that engage in music.

If the argument is that parents should fund musical and arts instruction themselves, then let me have part of my tax dollars back and let my children spend more time away from the school so that they can get this instruction. After all, having students spend more time on core subjects at school isn't helping.

Since I won't get my wish, I will be happy for now that my charter schoolers get high quality musical instruction. I will also continue to make sure that my kids can take private music lessons—even if they sometimes grouse about practicing.

My Dream

2011-12-05T12:24:00.001-07:00

I love music, but I don't listen to recorded music very much. The other day was an exception. As I drove down the road flipping through channels, I found nothing in which I was interested. Finally I landed on a station playing music that was benign enough that I didn't find it obnoxious.

Soon I was listening to a love song where the artist was singing about his love interest being his "dream." This made me think about my dreams in life.

I can honestly say that all of these years later, my wife is still my dream. A few years ago I wrote a poem for my wife suggesting that we have become so intertwined that she is involved in every thought that I think. My wonderful wife is a grand match for me. She inspires and uplifts me. She puts up with me and helps me be better than I could ever be without her.

While my wife is my dream, my dreams expand in multiple directions. My children are my dream. It is tremendously fulfilling (and sometimes tremendously frustrating) to see them grow and become more themselves.

My work is my dream. I am blessed with a good job that employs creative and technical skills. Interestingly, I had no idea during my youth that I had interest and ability in these kinds of skills. These developed over time.

My spiritual life is my dream. It is difficult for me to publicly address this issue because it is so sacred to me. Mere words cannot adequately convey this sentiment. But it occupies a significant measure of my life.

My country is my dream. The older I get the more things I see wrong with my country. But I also see much that is right—some things that are more right than ever. I dream of this place still being a great place for my children and their children in the future.

As we decorated the Christmas tree over the weekend, my daughter pulled out an ornament that includes a timely message: "The most important things in life ... aren't things." The more I think about it, the more I realize that my dreams are not really wrapped up in "things," but in matters of much deeper value.

Hi, My Name Is Scott and I'm a Carbohydrate Addict

2011-11-22T12:32:00.001-07:00

It has taken me years to understand—and admit—that I am addicted to carbohydrates.

All foods are broken down into three basic nutrients: protein, carbohydrate, and fat. Most foods consist of at least some of all three nutrients. Of course, the balance of the three differs. An apple, for example, is mostly carbohydrate, but it also contains a small amount of fat and protein. Regular peanut butter, on the other hand, is about two-thirds fat, two-ninths carbohydrate, and one-ninth protein.

"Eating fat makes you fat," I read years ago. Heeding that commentary, I spent years eating a very low fat diet. For a long time my diet consisted mostly of complex carbohydrates. I eschewed refined carbohydrates, which have been long touted as bad for you

While all carbohydrates are ultimately broken down and metabolized as simple sugar, the higher the complexity of the carb, the longer the metabolism process takes. A longer metabolism time reduces blood sugar spikes. Excess carbs in the system from these spikes not only cause moodiness, they are quickly and easily converted to stored fat.

Knowing that there are "good" and "bad" carbs, it should have made sense that the relative healthiness of fats and proteins is also on a sliding scale. That understanding came over time.

Eventually my diet morphed to where I focused on eating a balanced set of nutrients at each meal—a moderate amount of protein, carbs, and fats. I tried to eat high quality nutrients. But even when I was doing this, I struggled to maintain optimal weight.

I also struggled with cravings and binge eating. What I craved most was carbohydrates. When I would take a dietary 'vacation' for a meal or two, I would go crazy eating all of the treats I had been denying myself.

It was only after going on a low-carb diet that I began to lose those cravings. It was only as these cravings began to subside that I realized how addicted I have been to carbohydrates throughout my life. My addiction cycles matched those of people addicted to other substances and behaviors.

Joshua Yelon has notes that "Sugar makes your brain release beta endorphin, a chemical with effects like Valium." Rats in tests used sugars and opiates interchangeably. Like smoking, carb infusions relieve stress. But carbs also lend to fat storage.

Not everyone responds to carbohydrates as strongly as has been my case. Our body's management of substances is strongly tied to both psychology and physiology. Given that no two of us are exactly alike in these ways, no two of us respond precisely the same to any substance. For that reason, there is no effective one-size-fits-all diet.

I don't know what will work for you. But I have discovered that significantly reducing carbs—both complex and refined—in my diet helps me feel better and more readily enables me to manage my weight and body composition.

Like all recovering addicts, I still crave the treats that I deny myself. But the cravings aren't as strong as they used to be. On rare occasions when I sample some of these foods, I find that they aren't nearly as satisfactory as they once were.

Quite honestly, that's psychologically frustrating. I have very deep-seated memories of how I felt when I ate these foods. Now when I indulge, I get nowhere near the physical or psychological pleasure that I once did. Sometimes it seems like a violation of my memories.

I have found that having strong goals helps me maintain a defense against the yearnings for carbohydrate-rich foods that I suspect will be with me in one degree or another throughout my life. Is my current diet the apex of my journey of dietary self discovery? I doubt it. Given my track record, my understanding and practices will likely continue to evolve.

Let the journey continue.

The Long and Short of a Short Sale

2011-11-15T12:42:00.001-07:00

A couple of months ago I wrote about the challenges of moving my Mom out of her home of 50 years. Mom had such difficulty dealing with the emotional side of the move that she ultimately opted not to look for a new home until she was out of her old home.

After staying with a relative for a few weeks, Mom started to get tired of living out of boxes and suitcases. She longed for her own home. This caused her to get serious about her wants and needs.

Having looked seriously at homes in another part of town, Mom determined that it would be best for her to live close to the area where she had lived for decades. That's where her support system was.

Fortunately, this decision helped us focus on what was available in the target area. Mom looked at a number of homes. The more anxious she became for getting into her own home, the more she was willing to compromise away desires for some unnecessary features.

After getting somewhat serious about a home that was far larger than she needed, a home just a few houses away came on the market. It was a lovely, relatively new home in a planned community. While it lacked certain features, it looked to me and my siblings like the perfect place for Mom.

After considering the matter for a couple of weeks, Mom made a reasonable offer on the home, about 2.2% below the asking price. The one drawback was that it was a short sale. That is where the sale of the property will garner less than the outstanding loan balance and the owner cannot afford to pay the deficit. In essence, the lender agrees to take a loss on the loan.

In a short sale, the lender becomes the main party that has to be pleased. The property 'owner' may agree to the sale, but the deal only becomes binding when the lender agrees. The process of getting agreement from the lender can be long and painful.

However, the real estate agent handling Mom's offer was certified to handle what is known as distressed property transactions. She had been in contact with the lender and had priced the home according to her understanding of what the lender would accept.

Mom started to get antsy after a couple of weeks went by. We pestered the agent, who pestered the lender. (We were not permitted to know who the lender was.) After four long weeks, the lender made a counter offer of 3% MORE than the original asking price—more than 5% higher than Mom's offer. Moreover, the lender said that this was the final offer and that no counter offers would be entertained.

At first Mom was furious. She was ready to tell the agent that the deal was off. But I knew which other homes were available in the area. Certainly another acceptable home would eventually become available, but there was no telling when that would be. I also knew that even at the higher price, the home was still an acceptable value. It wasn't a super deal, but it was in line with market rates.

I urged Mom to put emotions aside and consider the value of the deal based on cold facts. She admitted that under those conditions the deal made sense. It was also the quickest way Mom would get into a new home. Mom's anxiousness to get into a new home outweighed her anger at the situation. Since Mom didn't need any financing to buy the home, the deal closed in rapid fashion.

We have spent the last few weeks moving Mom into her new home and reducing the amount of stuff in storage. Just changing her address with all of the places with which she does business has been quite a chore. Mom has given away a fair amount of furniture that won't fit in the new home. She has bought a few items of furniture.

And we still have two storage units that are full of stuff. Some of that may end up in the new home someday. But some of it will never go there. I'd like to say that we will eventually clear out the storage units, but Mom is still quite attached to some of the things that she won't end up bringing to her new home. We might have at least one storage unit for years to come.

This whole episode has been quite an adventure. And it continues to be so. But at least Mom is in a home that is better suited to her current condition. It's in a great neighborhood too. So it's not a perfect story. But it's pretty good.

On My Honor

2011-11-14T19:53:00.001-07:00

The first three words a scout promises are, “On my honor.” This is such a common theme that the term “scout’s honor” has been embedded in the English language as a way to denote ultimate truthfulness.

Personal honor indicates far more than being true to others; it means being true to oneself. Someone that is internally honorable has no difficulty being publicly honorable.

The first time I went to Boy Scout summer camp at age 12, we hauled our own food far into the back country. The troop’s provisions were put in the “food tent.” Since we had to obtain all of the food in advance, we didn’t have much in the way of immediately perishable stuff. We lived on canned and boxed foods throughout the week.

While we enjoyed our time at camp, we all looked forward to Saturday morning breakfast, which we would consume as we broke camp. The fare for that morning included commercially packaged pudding in individual servings. This kind of product was relatively new on the market. As such it was a rarity for most of us boys.

About the middle of the week, someone found two empty pudding containers in the bushes at the edge of camp and brought them to the senior patrol leader. He inspected the food tent and found that the containers had indeed come from the troop’s stock. This presented a problem because there was only one container per person.

Everyone in the troop denied culpability. So, under the direction of our scoutmaster, an investigation was undertaken. Our scoutmaster was a criminal investigator by profession, so it didn’t take long to discover the culprits.

As part of the investigation, each member of the troop was brought privately before the troop leadership council and asked to swear to the truth of the matter on his honor as a scout. We didn’t realize at that time that they already knew who had taken the pudding.

When one of the culprits was asked to swear on his honor, he immediately confessed, although, he had earlier denied to the group. Despite having stolen, he took the matter of personal honor seriously and he accepted the consequences for doing so.
Scouts are to promise to do their best to do their duty to God and country, to obey the Scout Law, to help others at all times, and to maintain high levels of physical, mental, and moral rectitude with a profound sense of personal honor.

This proposition is at odds with many of today’s cultural currents. Personal honor is still widely respected, but it is not much pursued. As private integrity recedes, we struggle as a society to invent increasingly stringent policies designed to impose proper behavior. All of these external approaches are poor and failing substitutes for the genuine article.

But there is a reason that people still revere personal honor. Society works best when people have it.

While the broader culture pursues a ‘whatever’ approach to morality, Boy Scouts promise on their honor to be moral actors. Of course, they are youth that are just learning. But when the aim is high, the result is likely to be much higher than when the target doesn’t exist at all.

On my honor ….

I Will Do My Best

2011-11-12T18:50:00.001-07:00

I was painfully aware as a young scout that most of the other scouts in my troop had far more physical and athletic prowess than me. It seemed to me that almost all of the other scouts were just better at pretty much everything we did in scouts.

From my current vantage point I can see that my perspective at that age was grossly skewed. The vast majority of young people feel inferior to their peers in many ways. Each assumes that his feelings of loneliness and inferiority are somewhat unique, when in fact they are the rule rather than the exception.

Scouts promise in the Scout Oath to do their best to fulfill the points outlined in the oath.

My youngest son once remarked to me that his older brothers were all better at scouting than him. I laughed because I knew what his brothers were like at the same age. He was comparing himself at age 11 to boys that had earned the Eagle Scout rank and had spent summers working on Boy Scout camp staff, but who at age 11 were much like him.

I also explained to my son a simple principle that took me a long time to comprehend. When he promised to do his best, it was HIS best he was promising to do, not someone else's best.

We are each blessed with a rather unique set of strengths and weaknesses, challenges and opportunities. We are weak and lazy when we excuse ourselves from trying to do things at which we know others to be better.

Besides, in doing the things at which we aren't proficient, we increase our ability to do them.

As a young scout I knew the square knot pretty well, but not many other knots. Lashings mystified me completely. At age 17 I spent the summer teaching the Pioneering merit badge at scout camp. By the end of the summer I had become quite expert at a variety of knots, lashings, and rope splices. These skills remain strong with me to this day.

Interestingly, when Delose Conner hired me to work on camp staff all those years ago, he didn't ask me how good I was at pioneering skills. Instead he gave me the resources I needed to be successful and he expected me to step up to the challenge. He expected me to do my best. He knew that as I did so, my best would become better. He knew that by the end of the summer my best would be better than my best at the beginning of the summer.

When scouts stand and promise to do their best, they are in essence promising to become better.

On my honor, I will do my best ....

To Keep Myself Physically Strong, Mentally Awake, and Morally Straight

2011-10-27T19:43:00.001-06:00

At age 12 I hiked with my troop to Beula Lake in the Yellowstone back country. From the trail head the hike is less than three miles. The first quarter mile or so is uphill, but it's relatively level after that. Despite the hike's ease, I trailed behind the rest of the troop both on the way in and on the way out.

It's kind of funny, but I was never much interested in physical exercise as a kid. It wasn't until I worked on camp staff in my older teen years that I began to discover joy in hiking and backpacking. Yet I stuck with the scouting program for years as we repeatedly went hiking and camping.

One of the purposes of all of that hiking and all of the physical games we played was to help promote being physically strong and active. This is one of the elements of doing one's duty to self, the third part of the Scout Oath. I think it is worthwhile to note that duty to self comes only after duty to God and country, and duty to others.

While attending one scouting event my troop was presented with a challenge. A number of items were placed under a blanket. The blanket was lifted for just a few seconds, revealing the items. Then we had a minute to specify what and where each item was. The goal was to correctly observe as many items as possible.

This simple game is known as Kim's Game. Robert Baden-Powell, the founder of scouting felt that this was a very useful game to play to teach young people to be mentally keen. Baden-Powell also used tracking and other activities to teach youth to be sharp observers. Part of the reason for this is that well trained young men had helped him during some of his military campaigns. But he felt that being keenly aware of surroundings could be useful in every setting.

One of my friends in my troop when I was a boy seemed uninterested in being clean, pure, and honest. The more I got to know him, the more I felt that he really only cared about himself. He had no problem with bending the truth, being cruel to others, or leaving others to clean up after him if it was to his immediate advantage.

I later had a friend who was, as they used to say, a straight shooter. He was without guile. He looked like a nerd, yet everyone loved him. He was as honest as the day is long and he was a genuinely good individual. But he could interact easily with just about anybody, even the kids from the 'parking lot' crew. No one questioned his moral rectitude. Nor did they try to dissuade him from it.

The first friend I mentioned liked scouting, but he wasn't too keen on living scouting principles. The second friend I mentioned was a scout. He didn't just attend meetings, he embodied what it means to be a scout. This is what I think of when I hear scouts repeat the term, "morally straight."

According to the Scout Oath, doing one's duty to self embodies working toward physical, mental, and moral health and well being. Proper care in these areas enables one to more fully accomplish the other promises made in the Scout Oath: to do one's duty to God and country, to obey the Scout Law, and to help other people at all times.

On my honor, I will do my best ... to keep myself physically strong, mentally awake, and morally straight.

To Help Other People at All Times

2011-10-23T14:44:00.002-06:00

Years ago I was at an Order of the Arrow event at Camp Kiesel. The youth were playing a camp-wide game of capture the flag. The camp occupies the juncture where two narrow canyons intersect. The boys decided that one team's turf would be Dry Bread Hollow, while the other team was assigned to Wheat Grass Canyon.

This setup proved to be quite challenging. Boys from both teams were easily captured as they tried to move through the common area of the camp between canyons. Suddenly someone from the Dry Bread team came running into the lodge, reporting that two boys were stuck on a ledge high above the canyon.

Apparently the boys had tried to climb over the top of the mountain to get from Wheat Grass to Dry Bread so that they could approach the other team's flag from the rear. They successfully scaled the mountain, but on the descent into Dry Bread they slid down to a ledge with a dangerous drop off. There was no chance for them to move laterally or to climb back up they way they had come.

Several of us ran up to the location to assess the situation. Nowadays we have plenty of trained individuals and climbing gear around, so a rescue of this nature could easily be affected. But back in those days we didn't have that kind of training or gear.

One of the older youth, Doug Hopper, knew just what to do. He quickly recruited a crew of strapping 17- and 18-year-olds. Within a few minutes, they were on the canyon wall above the stranded climbers. Doug had the crew form a human ladder. He was the guy at the end of the ladder that trusted the others enough to risk his life to pull the younger boys to safety.

I have always remembered Doug's bravery and willingness to help. These are two qualities that all scouts promise to implement. Doug had a career as full-time military as a flight instructor. As a full-time commercial pilot, he now serves in the reserves.

Delose Conner tells about taking a 15-passenger van full of Camp Loll staffers into Yellowstone National Park one weekend. As they traveled they came upon a scary scene. A car was backed up against a drop off where there was a little pull-out on the side of the road

One of the car's rear wheels was hanging in free space. A mom and two kids stood off to the side looking anxiously on as the father sat in the driver seat revving the engine and trying to keep the precariously positioned vehicle from sliding over the edge.

Delose immediately pulled off and got out to see how he could help. It was suggested that the van could be used to pull the car back onto the road, but they had no tow straps. Then one of the staffers suggested that they simply pick up the car and put it back on the road.

As the adults in the situation balked at that idea, the staffers gathered around the car, picked it up, carried it a few feet, and put it down on safe ground. Delose quips that you can accomplish anything with 15 teenage camp staffers.

Scouts promise when they recite the Scout Oath to help others "at all times." This means helping when it's not convenient and helping even when no one has organized a service project. It means being aware of how one can be helpful and doing what one can do to help others. Like other scouting principles, helping others implies a degree of selflessness.

On my honor, I will do my best to ... help other people at all times.

To Do My Duty to God and My Country

2011-10-22T16:50:00.000-06:00

When I was a Boy Scout, I one day saw one of my fellow scouts wearing a shiny metal band around his wrist. It showed a name and a date. But it wasn't his name. So I asked him what the wristband represented.

At the time the U.S. was embroiled in a very controversial war in Vietnam and neighboring countries. Most of the controversy was lost on me and my friends. We didn't know why we were at war and we didn't know why so many people in the U.S. were so unhappy about the war.

At any rate, when I asked my friend what his wristband meant, he explained that the name belonged to a member of the U.S. military that was missing in action. It was unknown whether this man was dead or alive, whether he was a prisoner of war, injured, or whatever.

My friend had obtained the band as a patriotic gesture for the cost of a donation. We didn't understand the war, but we did know that it would be good if the individual missing in action could be safely returned home. Maybe the donation could help with that. Several of us soon obtained similar wristbands.

At a time when we saw angry crowds on TV burning American flags, our scouting leaders taught us to reverence the flag. We learned how to salute it, how to fold and unfold it properly, how to raise it briskly and lower it slowly, how to display it, how to carry it, and how to post it properly.

Every summer I attend several ceremonies at scout camps where worn American flags are burned. Unlike the angry crowds on TV, those performing the ceremonies at camp burn each tattered flag with love and respect for the "republic for which it stands." I have often enjoyed hearing someone at these ceremonies recite Johnny Cash's Ragged Ol' Flag (see video below).

But a scout doesn't just promise to love his country. He promises to do his duty to his country. There are many different ways to do that. My best friend from my young scouting days has spent his adult life serving as a naval reserve officer. Although he runs his own business, he has several times left his family and business behind to serve his country abroad.

Another friend has done his duty by serving in a state legislature where he fought to reduce unnecessary spending and excess taxes. I have watched for decades as young Boy Scout camp staffers have led scouting groups into the Yellowstone back country, teaching them to love, respect, and care for this cherished national park that they own along with their fellow Americans.

As important as is duty to country, the Scout Oath puts duty to God first. I recently covered this topic when I wrote about reverence. The approach to doing one's duty to God differs according to one's beliefs. As a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, I entered into the church's lay ministry along with most of my scouting friends when I was a Boy Scout.

Part of our duty to God entailed serving the Sacrament to the congregation each Sunday, attending weekly church meetings, fasting once a month, collecting fast offerings for the needy, working on the welfare farm where the produce went to help others, and accepting a variety of service callings. Most of us eventually spent two years serving as full-time missionaries for the church at our own expense.

I find it interesting that the Scout Oath links doing one's duty to God and his country in the same phrase. Perhaps this is because scouting envisions a certain level of sacredness in both of these endeavors. But I think the main key is the word "duty."

Duty means performing some action that we owe. Scouting recognizes that each scout is indebted to his God and to his country for the tremendous blessings of life and opportunity that he enjoys. The word duty implies humility, gratitude, and allegiance to causes greater than the individual. It implies a certain level of selflessness.

Another important word in the Scout Oath is "do." A scout promises to do his duty to God and his country, not just to think about it. This promise is one of action. Scouts are to recognize that they have a duty and they promise to do their best to fulfill that duty.

On my honor, I will do my best to do my duty to God and my country....

A Scout Is ...

2011-10-21T10:53:00.001-06:00

At a recent troop meeting, one of the boys led the others in the Scout Law. They recited:

A scout is:
Trustworthy,
Loyal,
Helpful,
Friendly,
Courteous,
Kind,
Obedient,
Cheerful,
Thrifty,
Brave,
Clean,
and Reverent.

Scoutmaster Ken Hill later asked to boys to think carefully about the Scout Law that they had recited and to give their opinion as to which of the 16 words in the law was the most important. He also wanted them to say why they thought that particular word was the most important one. Some thoughtful answers were given.

Then Ken asked the boys to consider the possibility that the word "is" might be the most important word in the Scout Law.

The law, he noted, doesn't say, "A scout should be ... ," "A scout wants to be ... ," or "A scout tries to be ...." It says, "A scout is ..." all of the 12 principles listed in the law. The law is not a list of goals, but a list of characteristics that define and identify a scout.

Of course, all scouting age boys are in training. Each can only be expected to live up to the 12 points of the Scout Law according to their age appropriate abilities. But to be a scout, they are expected to do their best at this.

Imagine how much better the world would be if each of us did our best to live these principles in our individual lives—if these words were part of our individual identity.

Ken Hill may be right. The most important word in the Scout Law may be "is."

A Scout Is Reverent

2011-10-18T20:12:00.001-06:00

I went to Boy Scout summer camp for the first time when I was 12 years old. We arrived on Saturday and set up camp. It rained that night. But the morning dawned sunny and beautiful. After breakfast I went with my troop to church at the outdoor chapel at Camp Loll.

Sacrament (communion) was served on trays that were hand carved from local logs. We sat on pews made of logs. Birds chirped as we sang hymns and listened to sermons. I don't remember a word of what was said, but I remember the grand view of the lake and woods from a chapel decorated more gloriously by the Creator than the Sistine Chapel was decorated by the masters. I remember the sense of the sacred that I felt there.

Almost all scout meetings I have attended throughout my life have opened and concluded with prayer. I have bowed my head as prayers have been voiced by professional ministers and by rascally Cub Scouts. The common strain in all of these episodes has been scouts reverencing God.

Many times I have sat around a campfire as young scouts have expressed their feelings of devotion toward their Heavenly Father. The sacredness of these moments cannot be adequately conveyed using mere words.

The Boy Scout Law explains that reverence for a scout includes being faithful in his religious duties and respecting the religious beliefs of others.

Once as a teenager I was preparing to go home from an Explorer Scout event when one of the advisers invited us to share a cultural experience. He had been invited to bring a small group of scouts to the home of Roy Nakatani to share in the celebration of the Japanese New Year. The Nakatanis were most gracious as we sampled various Japanese foods, some of which were quite foreign to our uneducated palates.

As we visited with the Nakatanis, we came to understand that for them this was also a religious event. Although their beliefs differed from ours, we made every effort to properly honor and show respect for the things they held sacred.

Throughout my life I have taken my religion seriously. I have tried to live up to the principles espoused by my religion (although I have often failed). I have done my best to do my duty to God and to follow the observances prescribed by my religion.

Although outward religious performances are important, reverence is something that happens within. LDS Church President David O. McKay said that "reverence is profound respect mingled with love" for God.

I have felt this reverence as keenly in God's natural chapels as in any chapel made by the hands of man. But I also appreciate sacred spaces built by men to honor God. Their handiwork may not be as glorious as the Father's, but any space set apart for ennobling and sacred worship is divine.

A scout is reverent.

A Scout Is Clean

2011-10-17T19:45:00.000-06:00

After working for several months on the requirements for the Personal Fitness merit badge, I made an appointment with a counselor to pass it off. I met with Jimmy Hill at his home. Jimmy carefully made sure I had satisfied the requirements. He explained to me the importance of physical health and cautioned me to always use protective eye wear when doing projects, as he had once been poked in the eye by a branch when pruning a tree.

On another occasion a group of my friends were planning on hiking up in the hills above our homes to a prominent rock feature. I was keen to go hiking with my friends. But when someone said that one of the boys would be bringing some pornographic magazines, I determined not to go.

As a young teenager I became an avid skateboarder. I got pretty good at it too (even if I can barely stand on a skateboard nowadays). Back in those days we were able to enjoy the pastime without having to dress or groom ourselves in a particular fashion. We could skateboard without having to take on a 'boarder' identity.

Once when I was riding at a fairly popular venue, the only two other boys present offered me a joint. I turned them down flat despite their insistence. I had already learned to just say no to drugs. It dawned on me later that part of the reason they were so persistent about wanting me to join them was so that I wouldn't squeal on them.

The Boy Scout Law says, "A scout keeps his body and mind fit and clean." That might come as a shock to those that have gone to camp for a week with scouts or to the mom that does the wash after her son returns from camp.

Physical fitness has been part of scouting from its earliest days. Lord Robert Baden-Powell introduced many physical activities on the first scouting campout. Cleanliness has also been a key principle. Performing service projects to help keep communities clean has been and continues to be a key feature in scouting.

I have taken part in many Eagle Scout service projects over the years. Many of them have aimed to beautify and improve communities.

When I look back on my youth, I realize that I had many opportunities to associate with people that chose low moral standards. But for some reason our ways eventually parted as we got older. I believe that scouting played an important role in my choice of friends.

The Boy Scout Law also says that a scout "chooses the company of those who live by high standards." When we have high standards ourselves, we tend to gravitate to others that share those ideals. Positive peer pressure makes us want to rise to challenges and improve ourselves.

Today we have more personal hygiene products than ever. We have clothing that resists odor causing bacteria. We have better cleaning supplies and equipment than at any time in history. In short, we have the ability to be more physically clean than ever.

But at the same time we have more access to mental filth and it is far easier to be mentally, morally, and physically slothful than ever. In the face of such cultural debauchery, scouting continues to teach boys to be physically, mentally, and morally clean.

A scout is clean.

A Scout Is Brave

2011-10-16T14:31:00.000-06:00

Years ago several Camp Loll staffers found an abandoned badger den in the forest outside of camp boundaries. At first they prized it for its natural value. Then they came up with more insidious ideas.

The staffers found an old badger skin tucked away in the camp gear. Since the den was large enough for a person to hide in, they secreted one of their number inside the hole with the skin. They would then invite other staffers to come and look at the badger den they had found.

Just as the unsuspecting staffer went to poke his head into the hole, the boy in the hole would stick the head of the badger skin out of the hole while making an animal-like growl. The jokers would laugh as the startled staffer would run or try to climb a tree to get away.

The gag was repeated a number of times until Keith DeHart was the target. Keith happened to be carrying a spear, which was a Native American regalia project on which he had been working. When the badger head poked out of the hole, Keith was just as surprised as the others had been. But instead of running, he lifted the spear, cocked his arm, and prepared to skewer the badger. Fortunately, the jokers put a stop to the activity before someone got hurt. Keith is one of the bravest people I know.

Bravery is not fearlessness. It means doing what should be done despite fear.

When I was 17 I became stranded on a snowmobile trip in the back country. I had no knowledge of how to repair the machine. I had not been trained to stay with the machine and to engage in activities near the machine that would make it easier for searchers to find me.

Instead of backtracking toward the start of our journey, I made the foolhardy decision in the growing twilight to try to follow the remainder of my group that had disappeared over a hill some time earlier. I hiked for hours through deep snow in the darkness in an area totally unknown to me.

I was scared, but eventually I saw snowmobiles searching for me. Unfortunately, they bypassed me in the darkness. But I then knew where they had come from, so I did my best to follow their tracks. Searchers finally found me at 2 am a few hundred yards from the cabin that had been our destination.

Although I had broken the rules for what to do when lost in the back country (simply because I didn't know the rules), I had done my best to do what I had understood to be right. I faced my fears and forged ahead.

A few years ago I watched my oldest son respond to a call to play an important part in a scouting ceremony. He had played a similar role in other ceremonies, but had only seen the ceremony in question once or twice. But the event leaders were in desperate straits. The boy that was scheduled to play the part simply hadn't shown up. Many people would be watching. Moreover, my son prefers to avoid the limelight.

Instead of turning down the opportunity, my son stepped up to the challenge. An hour later he was playing the main part in a ceremony that lasted 45 minutes. He was scared. He stumbled over his lines a few times. He often had to read his lines from behind a prop he was holding. It wasn't the greatest performance, but it was passable. My son had bravely done what needed to be done, although, he would have preferred to avoid doing so.

When I was young, I was at a scouting event when several boys started talking about pranks they had seen pulled on others. This naturally led to the group coming up with pranks they could pull members of another patrol. The ringleaders in the group began developing some rather elaborate plans that required our participation.

I was not one of the popular boys in our large troop. Participating in the pranks would likely have raised my status in the group. But the pranks being discussed felt wrong to me. I squirmed as the ringleaders began detailing the parts that the less popular members of the group would play. Then one of my friends stood up and said, "I'm not going to do that. We are scouts, and a scout doesn't do that kind of thing."

Almost everyone except for the three ringleaders quickly chimed in that they wouldn't participate either. Finally, two of the ringleaders turned against the boy that was the driving force behind the plan. I'm sure that my friend was scared to stand up to the older and more popular boys. I'm sure that he had no idea that many others would join him as soon as he publicly took a position against the plan. But he bravely did the right thing anyway.

Fear does not excuse one from choosing right. It does not excuse one from the moral obligation to take a stand against something that is wrong. This is one of the principles that scouting seeks to instill in youth.

A scout is brave.

A Scout Is Thrifty

2011-10-15T20:19:00.001-06:00

"The problem is that you don't know the value of a dollar," my Dad complained. I had started a daily newspaper delivery route at age 11, so I had a source of income. What Dad didn't like was the fact that I tended to fritter away my earnings on stuff that seemed to have little value. I was, for example, a regular patron of the candy machines at school.

When I went to Boy Scout summer camp for the first time, I brought extra money to spend in the trading post. Frankly, they didn't have that much stuff in the trading post. I spent $5 (which was worth a lot more than $5 today) on an old army surplus wood frame for a backpack. What was I thinking? It hung around the house for years, but I never used it.

Having grown up in an era of plenty, it took a while for me to develop an understanding of the principle of thrift. Being thrifty involves far more than just monetary matters. One of the early lessons I learned as a scout was to avoid cutting trails. It causes erosion and other environmental problems. I also learned to pack out all trash and to leave places better than we found them.

What does this have to do with being thrifty? The Boy Scout Law says:

"A Scout works to pay his own way and to help others. He saves for the future. He protects and conserves natural resources. He carefully uses time and property."

By the time I worked on Camp Loll Staff, I had become more thrifty. Another staffer and I used some of our limited free time to snorkel around the shallows of the lake hunting for lost fishing lures. (Yeah, that's a cold activity.) We would clean up the lures and sell them in the trading post for cheap.

One of the greatest examples of thrift I have ever seen in scouting was a man named Jed Stringham. Jed was in charge of all of the scout council's camp facilities. He would show up at Camp Loll and would work like crazy. I'm not sure I've ever seen a harder working person in my life. Jed was careful about spending the council's money. He was an expert at finding ways of getting things done with available resources.

I particularly like the fact that scouts are encouraged to pay their own way. They are not to be freeloaders. If everyone in society did their best to live by this principle, there would be far fewer that need or expect help. And those that did need help would find others offering it. Self responsibility is a necessary element of thrift.

A scout is thrifty.

A Scout Is Cheerful

2011-10-14T15:43:00.000-06:00

One of the first songs I learned when I worked on the staff at Camp Loll as a youth was Stay On the Sunny Side, a goofy ditty that employs a series of knock-knock jokes between rousing renditions of the chorus. We sang it often and with gusto. Despite its silliness, the song makes a useful point about cheerfulness. Everything in life is better when you maintain a cheerful attitude.

I once read an article about a series of studies that delved into optimism and pessimism. Pessimists tend to be right more often, the article stated, while optimists tend to be more successful, happier, and longer lived. But the article went on to make a very important point. Pessimists are accurate more often in part because their gloom can become a self fulfilling prophecy.

When I joined the Order of the Arrow as a scout, I was intrigued by the organization's internal name: the Brotherhood of Cheerful Service. Members promise to "seek to preserve a cheerful spirit, even in the midst of irksome tasks and weighty responsibilities." This seems to run counter to a culture that encourages people to do whatever they want and to escape negative emotions through addictive substances and activities.

Mike was the first patrol leader I remember. He seemed to always be happy. He clearly felt passionate about certain pursuits. I enjoyed joining in some of these activities. (Less so when it came to his enthusiasm for entomology.) Despite his geekiness, Mike was always keen for adventure.

I wondered what made Mike tick. After all, my Mom will tell you that I grew up as the pouting champion of our family. I knew how to carry a dark cloud around with me. Over my years of scouting, I have repeatedly encountered people that have helped me understand the value of choosing to be happy and upbeat.

When I worked on Boy Scout camp staff, I was impressed by our waterfront director (and chaplain), Gordon Banz. Gordon seemed to always have a way of finding a silver lining in every situation. His cheerfulness was contagious.

The gloomy among us may be more accurate about some matters. But they aren't much fun to be around. People tend to naturally gravitate to the cheerful and away from the dour. Much can be accomplished with a cheerful attitude.

Elder Jeffrey R. Holland said, "Speak hopefully. Speak encouragingly, including about yourself. ... Yes, life has its problems, and yes, there are negative things to face, but please accept one of Elder Holland's maxim's for living—no misfortune is so bad that whining about it won't make it worse."

Words to live by.

A scout is cheerful.

A Scout Is Obedient

2011-10-13T20:20:00.002-06:00

My cubmaster, Art McKeen started every Cub Scout pack meeting by putting the needle of a record player on just the right spot of a vinyl LP. A bugle calling Assembly sounded out across the gymnasium letting everyone know that the meeting was about to start. We had a very large pack, but when that bugle call sounded, each of us quickly found our seats and the room became amazingly quiet.

Art would welcome everyone to the meeting. He was always well organized. The cubs that were to run the flag ceremony were fully prepared by this point. Art would again set the needle on the record and we would hear a bugle playing To The Color. We all immediately stood at attention. The flag ceremony followed.

At the close of the meeting, the record player sounded Retreat, following which, we would run to get treats.

When I first became a member of the pack, I wasn't completely sure why we did all of these things at pack meetings. But, like my fellow Cub Scouts, I obediently did what I knew I was supposed to do. As time went on I gained a better understanding of why it was important to have order in the meeting and to properly honor our nation's flag.

Obedience is an important principle for maintaining safety and order, and in making life more pleasant for everyone. Chaos can be exhilarating, but it is rarely pleasant. It endangers life and property.

The Boy Scout Law teaches a scout to be obedient to the laws and rules of his family, school, troop, community, and country. He is to work through appropriate channels to change laws and rules that he thinks are unfair rather than disobeying them.

But there are limits to this as well. Obedience, above all, means being obedient to what is right. There may be times when one is faced with the choice of obeying a blatantly immoral law or doing what is actually right.

My Dad saw only one movie that was rated R during his lifetime. I expressed surprise when he told me that he took my young brother to see Schindler's List. Having grown up in Nazi Germany, Dad responded that it was absolutely essential for everyone to understand the profound evil that was perpetrated in Germany during that era, while many either participated in or acquiesced to such wickedness in the name of obedience.

Consider, for example, how the young German boy depicted as a member of the Hitler Youth in this short video clip chooses to save the life of a Jewish girl in obvious defiance of established law.

While obedience to proper authority is necessary in society, no one is obligated to obey laws that are evil. It must be recognized, however, that failure to obey such laws may lead to severe consequences. One must be willing to accept such consequences when it becomes necessary to disobey immoral laws.

Hopefully today's scouts will rarely face such challenges and can content themselves with obedience to acceptable laws and rules.

A scout is obedient.

A Scout Is Kind

2011-10-12T19:33:00.000-06:00

We arrived at the spring Camp-O-Ree ready to have some fun. Our patrol had made food and gear assignments in advance. After finding our campsite, the first order of business was to set up our tents. My partner and I got busy doing that, as did most of the other boys.

We quickly noticed one set of tent partners relaxing while the rest of us worked. When we asked these two boys where their tent was, they responded that they had decided to sleep under the stars. I cast a doubtful eye at the sky. Even at my young age, I could see that it would probably rain during the night. But, hey, it was their choice.

The evening progressed as normal. We built a fire, prepared and ate dinner, and spent the evening goofing around, telling stories, etc.

Just as our scoutmaster said that it was time to head off to bed, a few raindrops started falling. The two boys that lacked a tent suddenly looked very concerned. Our scoutmaster inquired as to how much space was available in each tent. All tents were completely full except for ours.

My partner had brought a tent that in theory could fit three people. I never believe what manufacturers say about the sleeping capacity of a tent. Their calculations might work for people under four feet tall and weighing less than 50 pounds. Everyone knows that a three-person tent is actually barely suitable for two.

As our scoutmaster looked around the campfire, my tent partner suddenly looked at me with big, pleading puppy-dog-like eyes. I knew that he was going to offer our tent. I tried to signal to him that I wasn't feeling very generous at the moment. After all, these boys had made a conscious choice and they should accept the natural consequences of their choice. Nevertheless, my tent partner quickly spoke up and said that the boys could sleep with us in our tent.

It was an awful night. The four of us were packed into far too small of a space. It was uncomfortable and I slept poorly. To top it off, the storm ended up dropping only a small scattering of drops once during the night. It was dry after that, and the morning dawned mostly clear. Those guys would have been just fine sleeping under the open skies.

But down inside I knew that my tent partner had done the right thing in making the offer. I knew that his act of kindness was the right thing for a scout to do.

Kindness doesn't stop with people. The Boy Scout Law says that kindness includes not harming or killing any living thing without good reason.

When I was young we went to visit my uncles that lived on the prairies of Wyoming. One Saturday afternoon we loaded up in a Jeep wagon and headed out of town. The men-folk hauled out a variety of weapons and started shooting various critters. Many prairie dogs bit the dust that day, along with a number of rabbits and various fowl.

All of the shooters seemed to quite enjoy the activity. None of these animals were taken for meat. Although I recognized that my relatives viewed these animals as vermin, the whole exercise struck me as wrong. The sheer pleasure derived from killing things repulsed me, especially when all of the carcasses were left to rot.

I'm sure that my uncles and cousins felt that they were performing a public service. In their minds, they had acted with good reason. All I can say for sure is that it didn't feel that way to me, and I lost all desire to participate in anything like that again. When I heard LDS Church President Spencer W. Kimball give his 1978 speech about not killing the little birds, I felt vindicated.

Thanks to a tent partner that was more gracious than me, I saw scouting kindness in action that night camping long ago. I have since seen more acts of kindness than I could possibly count, many of them aimed at me. And I am grateful for each one.

A scout is kind.

A Scout Is Courteous

2011-10-11T20:34:00.000-06:00

One year at summer camp we had a commissioner named Bill, a trim college-age guy with closely cropped hair. Bill was the epitome of organization. His uniform looked great. He was always where he was supposed to be when he was supposed to be there. We could always depend on him to do what he was supposed to do.

While friendly, Bill seemed a little too business like to us boys. The commissioner we had had the previous year was a much more easygoing fellow that was easy to joke around with. We had given that commissioner an affectionate nickname that was, uh, less than respectful. He took it all in stride and had great fun with it. We tried to do the same with Bill, but it didn't go over well.

One evening as we sat around the campfire, our scoutmaster, Al Parks talked to us about what it meant to be courteous. It was more than just being nice to people. It was showing genuine respect for others.

Al said that Bill had treated each of us boys with kindness and dignity. He was right about that. Although Bill seemed a little uptight, he also seemed to reflect sincere regard for even the snottiest kid. Bill had a different personality than the previous year's commissioner. To him, our attempts at playfulness seemed hurtful and disrespectful. Bill wondered what he had done to deserve such treatment at our hands.

We were invited to think about how we could more positively interact with Bill. We started joking around about it, but soft spoken Al gently let us know that he was quite serious. So we got serious about how we could have fun with Bill while still showing him the kind of respect he showed us.

It didn't take us long to come up with some plans. The rest of the week went much better. We enjoyed Bill. And by the end of the week, he even learned to enjoy our troop.

Courtesy is the lubricant that makes for pleasant social interactions. Insincere courtesy may help avoid some social scrapes, but it still fails to convey respect. Real courtesy requires actual respect for others—an inward belief in their innate dignity.

My Mom carefully trained her sons in the finer points of courtesy and good manners. We haven't always lived up to Mom's teachings. But we know how to do so. To this day, I open doors for my wife. I do this, not because I think she is weak or incapable, but because I love and respect her.

We live in an age where potty humor is greatly celebrated and marketed to our youth. The broader culture teaches kids from their earliest ages that they can get ahead by 'dissing' others—that they can build themselves up by putting others down.

But that is not the way of the scout. Scouts are (or should be) taught to see the best within each individual and to treat each person in a way that lifts them toward their best potential. It is more than a way of acting; it is a way of thinking.

A scout is courteous.

A Scout Is Friendly

2011-10-10T19:53:00.000-06:00

I had achieved the rank of Life Scout and had most of the merit badges I needed for the rank of Eagle Scout. But then I stalled out on advancement. I was active in my troop, but I wasn't earning new advancements. My friend Cory was in the same boat. Like me, he had climbed to the Life rank, but had taken a breather.

One day I noticed that Cory was staying after school. I asked him what was up with that. Was he in trouble? He explained that he was staying after to take a merit badge class from one of the English teachers. I had no clue that this man was a merit badge counselor. Cory encouraged me to attend the class with him.

Within a few weeks I had earned several new merit badges and had learned some new skills. I still remember my parents taking me to the teacher's home to pass off the Home Repairs merit badge, among others.

Thanks to Cory's encouragement, I got back on the trail to the Eagle rank. I finished the requirements and attended my board of review in the spring of that year. A few months after my court of honor, I was able to attend the court of honor where Cory was awarded his Eagle rank.

True friends help us become better than we would be without their friendship. So-called friends that lead us down ignoble or stagnating paths are not friends at all.

Throughout my lifetime involved in scouting, I have developed many friendships. Sometimes years—even decades—go by between occurrences of seeing an old scouting friend. Yet I find that these friendships still uplift me.

This past summer I encountered a man that I knew as a youth many years ago. He lives across the country. I have heard about him because one of my sons has worked on camp staff with some of his sons. We enjoyed becoming reacquainted and reminiscing about old times. He was a fine individual back in the day and he is a better individual today. What a great experience it was to see my friend again.

Being friendly is more than just focusing on close acquaintances. It means showing good will to others, regardless of whether we know them or not.

Years ago when I attended a National Order of the Arrow Conference I met a young man named Bob who was from another state. Bob was the epitome of a friendly scout. Bob was great to be around. He seemed to naturally lift those around him toward their better selves. I don't remember Bob's last name or even where he was from. But I remember his friendliness toward me.

Ennobling friendship and friendliness are qualities the Boy Scouts seeks to instill in its members.

A scout is friendly.

A Scout Is Helpful

2011-10-09T14:46:00.001-06:00

When I was a young Boy Scout, we had among our troop equipment an interesting contraption that allowed us to make rope. It had been constructed by an earlier adult volunteer using old lawn mower gears.

The geared contraption was strapped to a scout using a long leather belt. There was one main larger gear that was set in motion using an inline hand crank that was usually turned by the scout wearing the belt. That main gear turned four small gears, three of which had hooks welded onto them.

We would run two strands of natural fiber twine from each hook to a distant point, to which the strands of twine would be fixed. We would multiply the desired finished length of the rope by three and station the scout with the belt that far away from the fixed point.

At least one other scout was needed to run the 'crow's foot,' which was an iron peg that split at the end so that three prongs could be used to separate the three groupings of twine strands.

As the crank turned, the twine strands twisted tightly together. The scout wearing the belt used his weight and strength to keep the strands taut throughout the process. When the twisted strands started to bind on each other, the scout manning the crow's foot would confine the twisted strands to the part of the rope closest to the crank. He moved away from this point as the rope became tighter.

When the rope was as tight as we could get it, scouts would whip each end to prevent unraveling and then cut the rope loose from the geared hooks and the fixed point. It took some serious work, but only a few minutes for scouts to make a useful rope using twine. Every scout I knew loved to have a piece of rope they had made themselves.

Our new scoutmaster, Al Parks signed the troop up for a rope making booth at the council's Scout-O-Rama. That was a council-wide event that was aimed chiefly at Cub Scouts and leaders, but where Boy Scout troops and leaders could also get ideas from other troops.

One warm Saturday in May, our troop spent the entire day helping Cub Scouts make their own ropes. We quickly discovered that few of these younger boys had sufficient strength to keep the rope taut and turn the crank. We provided lots of assistance for hours.

At the end of the day when the Cub Scouts were gone, we weren't finished. We had to disassemble our booth, load the stuff onto a trailer, haul it to the owner's lot, and unload it. It was late in the day by the time we got home. We were tired and had given up an entire Saturday that could have been spent in other pursuits. But somehow we felt pretty good about the whole thing.

Al explained to us that this good feeling was part of the magic of helping others. We felt good because we were being and doing good.

A scout is helpful.

A Scout Is Loyal

2011-10-08T15:52:00.000-06:00

I went on my first overnight hike with the Boy Scout troop just a couple of days before I turned 12. Our family had recently acquired a new 'lightweight' pup tent made of nylon. I was incredibly excited as I looked forward to hiking with the troop.

Having never been on an overnight hike, I plied my older brother for help in preparing. He offered generous advice, including a lot of information about preparing for a weeklong hike in the back country. I assiduously put my brother's advice to work, lading my pack with far more stuff than would be needed on an overnight campout.

On Friday afternoon our troop gathered in the driveway of our scoutmaster, Bob Porter. It took a while for the adults that would be helping with transportation to get home from work and get ready to take us. But eventually we were at the trailhead that would lead us to Malan's Basin.

The first stretch of the hike wasn't too bad. There wasn't much of a climb as we hiked up the creek bed in the bottom of Taylor Canyon. But all of that changed when we came to the spot where the switchbacks started. Being somewhat of a couch potato, I was unprepared for the rigors of carrying an overladen backpack up a couple of miles of trail that climbed a couple thousand feet in elevation.

Before long I was at the rear of the pack of hikers. They would stop and rest to wait for the stragglers to catch up. As soon as I would arrive and drop my pack, the main group would head off up the trail, giving me no time for rest.

As the hike wore on, I trudged increasingly slowly up the interminable trail, taking frequent breaks and wondering if I would ever make it to the destination.

Eventually, I was alone. Alone except for my scoutmaster, Bob Porter. Bob hiked along with me at my slow pace, encouraging, cajoling, and keeping me somehow going as the sun set and the trail ahead began to disappear into the dusk. We couldn't hear any of the rest of the troop any more, but Bob stayed with me.

It is true that Bob was responsible for my well being on this trip, but it isn't really possible to go astray on this trail. Once you get going up the Taylor Canyon switchbacks, you will eventually reach Malan's Peak as long as you keep going. Bob could have hiked on ahead and then sent someone back to assist me. Bob could have carried my pack for me. But he didn't. He stayed with me and made sure that I gained the victory of carrying my own pack all the way to the campsite.

That's loyalty: devotion to doing the right thing.

Loyalty can be misplaced. Some have engaged in immoral acts in the name of being loyal to a creed, nation, team, or person, etc. My Dad saw that kind of thing when he grew up in Nazi Germany. This is a counterfeit for the kind of loyalty promoted by the Boy Scouts of America. Gordon B. Hinckley once said, "I think of loyalty in terms of being true to ourselves. ... We must be true to the very best that is in us."

One scouting leader said:

"I once had a boss who said, “Greed makes the world go ‘round”. He was wrong. An ounce of loyalty is worth a pound of cleverness. What makes families and communities and countries work—indeed, what makes the world go ‘round—is loyalty."

My earliest lessons in loyalty came at home among my family. But my first lesson in scouting loyalty that I can remember happened on a lonely mountain trail when my scoutmaster refused to leave my side.

A Scout is loyal.

A Scout Is Trustworthy

2011-10-07T18:08:00.001-06:00

I learned to build campfires at age 17. By that time I had been an Eagle Scout for three years, had served in various scouting leadership positions for years, had gone on many campouts, and had sat around many campfires.

My 18th summer found me working on staff at Camp Loll. One day I was assigned along with several others to build the campfires for the evening program that would kick off a week of camping and outdoor events for a couple of hundred scouts and leaders.

I dutifully headed to the campfire bowl with my crew and we began haphazardly throwing together piles of wood in the two fire pits. Fortunately, our camp director, Delose Conner happened to wander onto the scene. (I later realized that he was wisely checking on us.) He looked at our work and asked whether we thought that the fire lays we had built could be started with a single match and whether they would burn nicely for an hour.

Assuming that we'd apply some kind of liquid accelerant to the stack of wood, I replied that the fires would start if they were sufficiently doused in "scout juice." After all, that's the way I had always seen campfires built. Delose explained that at Camp Loll we used only natural elements in our campfires and that the use of accelerants was not permitted. My crew and I quickly understood that what we had built wouldn't work.

Delose then carefully instructed us in the fine art of building a 'council' campfire. He showed us how to build something that looked kind of like a log cabin fire lay, but where every other layer was a fairly solid floor of wood. We started with larger diameter logs and gradually worked our way up to small sticks. Atop our structure we built a tepee of very dry, thin, long sticks. We filled the tepee with masses of very fine, dry tinder.

The fire would start small at the top. As the top layer of sticks burned through, the fire would fall to the next layer. There was enough space between each layer to allow enough air to reach the fuel for the fire to burn well. A properly constructed fire, it was explained, would burn brightly for about 45 minutes and would then diminish to a lovely bed of coals that would provide just the right ambiance as the program wound down.

Our director carefully explained that each campfire needed to be completely dependable. He had to be able to trust that the fire would start with a single match, stay lit, and burn as long as needed. The scouts in attendance had to see that it was possible to start a fully natural fire if the fire lay was properly prepared. In short, he said, the fire had to be trustworthy, just as each scout promised to be trustworthy each time he recited the Scout Law.

Trustworthiness is something that is proven and earned. Not only must it thrive inside the individual, others must be aware of it as well. It is something for which one gains a reputation. Once trust is violated, it is extremely difficult to regain.

My camp director was also the professional scout executive for the district where I lived. He later told me that one of the reasons he hired me to work on camp staff was that I had proven myself to be dependable as a youth Order of the Arrow leader.

Delose reminded me that some months earlier our O.A. chapter had agreed to do a camping promotion presentation for a large troop. Weeks later, Delose looked at his calendar and realized that the event was supposed to start in a few minutes. He had no time to remind chapter members. He hurriedly gathered supplies and rushed to the meeting, only to find me already leading the event.

Trustworthiness means keeping one's promises. It means being where you have promised to be doing what you have promised to do. It means being truthful, even when it might be more convenient or profitable to be otherwise. And it is the first point of the Scout Law.

A Scout is trustworthy.

Wet Camping Not for the Wimpy

2011-10-01T17:38:00.001-06:00

Our scouting district held a Camporee two weekends ago for Boy Scout units. We now have about 70 such units in our district.

I did not expect a huge turnout to the event. We have traditionally gotten much lower turnouts at fall Camporee events than at winter Klondike events. I suspect that there are many reasons for this. The school year has just begun and families are busy.

But another reason that I expected a lower turnout was that the new district camping chairman had to go out of town for an extended period for his job. While the camping chairman had done quite a bit of groundwork in setting up the event, his absence in the critical few weeks prior to the event left the program chairman scrambling.

Throughout the Friday of the campout the skies were overcast. The forecast called for rain. But the temperature was relatively mild. We have no problem getting troops to come out to camp in the snow, but rain is another story. The threat of a little rain seems to deplete turnout by as much as half. Heavy rain will cut that number in half again.

I tell people around here all of the time that if they refuse to camp in rainy conditions, their boys will never learn how to successfully deal with outdoor events in wet weather. I also tell them that if they lived in the Northwest and refused to camp in the rain, they would never go camping at all.

It's not the boys that cancel campouts in the face of precipitation; it's the adults. I have to admit that it's a lot of work to dry out wet tents and gear. But I also can't help but wonder if adult scouters have always been this wimpy. I seem to remember camping in wet weather quite a bit when I was a youth.

When we held flag ceremony at sundown, we had 17 Scout troops in attendance. 17 out of 70 is rather pathetic. We had somewhere around 150 attendees (youth and adults).

While there had been a bit of misty rain earlier in the evening, the weather turned off quite beautiful for our campfire program. It still felt quite nice when we bedded down for the night. But along about midnight it started to rain in earnest. The first troop that couldn't hack it pulled out around 1 am. Over the next couple of hours, a few more pulled up stakes and headed home.

Around 5 am we experienced a spectacularly bright and noisy thunderstorm. More troops left then, citing their hazardous weather training. Many of us that have been through (and taught) the same training judged it sufficiently safe to remain.

By the time we held flag ceremony at 8 am, only seven troops remained. Scout games were planned for 9 am. By that time, only one troop remained. True, it rained off and on and all the camping gear was wet. It is also true that many boys were quite wet by then. But the one troop that stayed had a great time anyway. After all, they reasoned that they would soon be home and able to get dry. Why not have fun?

Listening to conversations as troops packed up and headed home, I think that most of the boys would have stayed if only the adults had let them. I wonder what the boys learned from this.

Our Order of the Arrow chapter members were the last to leave after cleaning up. The Camporee had been damp and poorly attended. But dampness need not ruin a campout if campers are properly prepared. Those that learn lessons from getting wet during an outdoor event can learn to have fun in wet weather anyway.

Youth safety is very important and should not be compromised. But teaching Scouts to be wimps won't instill the kind of values in them that the Boy Scouts of America seeks to uphold.

North Ogden Voters to City Council Incumbents: Get Lost!

2011-09-14T20:28:00.000-06:00

A few weeks ago I wrote about the kerfuffle in North Ogden over city leadership's handling of the public works facility issue. I noted that about 3,000 of North Ogden residents had signed a petition demanding that the $10 million bond for the proposed facility be put to a general vote. The city responded by filing a lawsuit against two of the sponsors of the petition.

Frankly, the mayor and most members of the city council members have demonstrated a disgracefully dismissive attitude toward residents that have concerns about the project, its costs, and the way it has been handled. It's not that their position is without merit; it's that they have treated a fair number of those they supposedly represent with disdain.

The city attorney and some of the city's employees haven't helped matters much. Someone should have instructed these people to keep their mouths shut. Instead they made a number of public statements that smacked of an elitist attitude. They seemed to quite forget that they work for the taxpayers of North Ogden, not vice versa.

By the time the primary election rolled around yesterday, the cake had been baked. Four years ago when 10 candidates ran for three city council seats, only 866 of the city's 9,532 registered voters went to the polls (as noted in this post). I thought that was pathetic, but not unexpected.

In yesterday's election where 11 candidates vied for the same three council seats, 1,558 of the city's 9,715 registered voters cast ballots. Hmmm.... That's still pretty pathetic; although, the passion behind the current issue nearly doubled voter turnout. But this time around incumbents fared poorly. (See election results.)

The purpose of the election was to winnow the 11 candidates down to six, three of whom will be selected for city council in the final vote on November 8. That meant that five of the candidates had to be eliminated in yesterday's primary election. The three incumbents came in in the sixth, seventh, and eight position. So only one of the incumbents will be on the final ballot.

However, it should be noted that the three incumbents together garnered only 18.29% of the vote. Had there been fewer opposition candidates, the opposition vote would have been less diluted and none of the incumbents would have made it to the final ballot. Those that voted in the primary election were pretty ticked off at the incumbents.

As I expected, the two candidates against whom the city filed suit came out on top in yesterday's election. The lawsuit was probably the most effective campaign tool for these candidates.

In past city council elections, those that came out on top in the primary election have almost always won the general election. I suspect it will be the same this time around, although, something unexpected could alter that outcome.

I doubt that the one incumbent that survived the primary election will have much hope of winning the general election. Given turnout in past elections, I doubt we will see more than 600 additional voters show up at the general election. Even if every last one of the additional ballots were cast for the lone incumbent, it is doubtful that she would win a seat.

The two council members that lost their bid last night are actually better off than the lone survivor. She now has to go through the motions of campaigning for nearly two months knowing that she will likely lose.

In January, the mayor and the city employees will be dealing with a very different city council than they have dealt with in the past. One of the sitting council members is already a strong supporter of limited government. The other guy does not seem to be the type to put up much opposition against a crew that is determined to reign in the city government.

If the mayor's seat had been on the ballot yesterday, the incumbent would have lost. Yesterday's vote was as much a referendum on his handling of his job as anything else. But much could happen over the next two years. It will be interesting to see if the mayor decides to run for re-election and what the public sentiment will be if he chooses to do so.

In the meantime, one thing is abundantly clear. A very vocal and involved group of concerned citizens isn't happy about being treated as if their concerns are of no importance. City officials need to take a different approach to dealing with these people.

And Help You to to You Impart

2011-09-11T20:02:00.000-06:00

Today in church one of the congregational hymns was Improve the Shining Moments. The lyrics of the final verse conclude with the phrase, "And God will love and bless you And help to you impart." Every time our congregation sings this song, many sing, "And help you to impart" rather than, "And help to you impart."

I suspect that the word "impart" is mainly to blame for the mix up. If you ask the average American youth what the word impart means, you will likely either get a blank stare or a guess that turns out to be incorrect. Many adults have some kind of foggy idea of the word's definition, but few are sufficiently familiar with its usage to know what they are singing regardless of whether they sing "you to" or "to you."

If you know what the word means, I guess that either way presents a good message. If you sing the hymn's actual lyrics, you are testifying that God will give those that rely on him help when they need it. If you switch the words and sing, "And help you to impart," you are testifying that those that rely on God will be helped to help others in their times of need. Either way, it's a good Christian message.

About a year and a half ago, I wrote a post about hymns. There are hymns that I dearly love, hymns that are OK with me, some that I prefer to sing rarely, and a few that I would prefer to completely avoid. I noted, for example, that there is a whole section of absolutely dreary hymns in the current LDS hymnal. Personally, I find no comfort or peace from these depressing odes.

One challenge with any words that get recorded is that the record stays in its original format while the language of the culture continues to evolve. Without anyone really designing or being in control of language, words and phrases come into being, develop new meanings, and drop from common usage on an ongoing basis.

We have all experienced generational differences in understanding of language. Our kids start throwing around terms or usages with which we are unfamiliar. A couple of years ago I heard a teenager say, "Man, that is sick!" From the tone of his voice I could tell that he was expressing approval. When my friends and I uttered the precise same phrase at that age, we meant that something was depraved or highly distasteful.

It happens the other way too. Older people use terms that the younger generation doesn't understand. They also user terms that are dated. Although the younger generation understands the term, they don't use it. Usually this means that the term will die out within a generation.

Nowhere is the example of time-framed linguistic alienation more clear than in scripture. The LDS Church uses the King James Version of the Bible. This version is noted for its beautiful prose and linguistic quality. It is felt by many that the KJV Bible preserves the original scripture in English better than other versions.

But the fact that the translation is more than 400 years old presents a difficulty for modern readers of the scripture. There are many cases where the phraseology differs so drastically from current language usage that it is very difficult to understand without special training. Some words have changed meaning so that some passages read by moderns can even appear to mean the exact opposite of their original intent.

A similar condition exists for hymn lyrics. As the language evolves, the phrases and words used in some hymns become unfamiliar to those singing the hymns nowadays. The problem can be compounded by the fact that hymn phrasing may vary from accepted sentence structure in order to achieve the lyrical qualities that make words work with music.

But hymns differ from scripture. While both hymns and scripture are meant for spiritual and moral edification, scripture is canonized while hymns are not (except for Psalms). Thus, it is far more acceptable to change the wording of hymns to meet currently common understanding than it is to alter scripture for the same reason. It is completely acceptable to write new hymns and stop using hymns, whereas, this isn't general the case with scripture.

Still, it isn't a simple thing for a church with thousands of congregations to switch hymnals. As I noted in last year's hymn post, the current LDS hymnal was published 26 years ago in 1985. The previous edition was published some 35 years earlier. It takes time and resources to change out millions of hymn books.

I opined to my son that it may not be many years before this will become a moot point. Given the rate of technological evolution, I can imagine a time not too distant when few new books are published in hard copy format. The ability to publish a new edition of a hymnal to thousands of meeting houses and millions of homes could be as simple as changing a file on a server.

Perhaps I'm too optimistic about the rate of technological adoption, if not about the rate of technological advance.

At any rate, I suspect that we're probably a decade away from a new edition of the LDS hymnal. I also suspect that when such a publication is released it will still include many hymns that I consider too archaic to be of much use. I'm also guessing that there will still be a smattering of numbers that are odd enough by modern standards that they end up never being seen or heard by the vast majority of church members.

Even when a new hymnal is released, I will continue to find solace, edification, and spiritual enlightenment through the hymns in the book. Sacred music will continue to speak to my soul in ways unmatched by other music.

I Dropped My Total Cholesterol Nearly 300 mg By Diet Alone

2011-09-10T16:09:00.002-06:00

Our medical system has morphed into a huge one-size-fits-all top-down system where frontline care providers are rewarded for pushing drugs. Doctors are increasingly herded into large conglomerates where treatments are guided by orthodoxies developed by an oligarchy and where punishment is meted out for operating outside of ‘guidelines’ that have become inviolable rules.

Physicians are not permitted to think outside the box. Is it any wonder that the alternative medicine industry in the U.S. continues to expand and flourish? What this tells us is that many feel ill served by the mainstream medical system.

A year and a half ago, I decided that I needed to do something different with my diet. Although I had eaten a challengingly healthy diet for years, I found my girth expanding. I had added nearly three inches around my waistline in as many years.

After being introduced to the low-carb lifestyle by a family member, I decided to give it a try. I described my efforts in four posts last summer (part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4). I had read horror stories about low-carb diets, but I found that the plan described in these posts allowed me to cut visceral fat rapidly. Not only that, after the first two weeks the plan was tasty and satisfying. Frankly, I can’t say that about my previous healthy dietary approaches.

All went well for about a year until I went in for my annual checkup. My cholesterol level had always been in the healthy range. I expected that total cholesterol might have risen 20-30 mg, since I had read that low-carb diets can increase the size of the LDL particles (without actually increasing their number). Large LDL particles don’t seem to cause much in the way of negative heart outcomes. Small LDL particles do.

Imagine my surprise when my total cholesterol came back at a whopping 446, with LDL at 383! My doctor couldn’t believe the results. He said that he didn’t think it was humanly possible for total cholesterol to jump 300 mg in one year. So he had me redo the test. The result was the same.

While low-carb proponents suggest that a rise in blood serum cholesterol is not dangerous, none of them are talking about a 300 mg rise. At most, they are talking about one-tenth of that. I’ve done a fair amount of study on cholesterol. By itself, it isn’t that strong of an indicator of imminent heart problems. But I figured that an outlandishly high reading can’t be good and I decided to do something about it.

I wasn’t about to go on cholesterol lowering drugs. I figured that my cholesterol had gone through the roof via diet alone, so it stood to reason that it could be lowered through diet alone. So I started doing some research.

Harkening back to the first paragraph in this post, I note that most frontline physicians don’t know squat about diet. The oligarchy has fed them the official line about what is healthy and what isn’t. They are required to promote that line. But few of them really have much clue about health management via diet.

I think part of the reason for this is that it is extraordinarily difficult to isolate diet as a factor in medical outcomes. A few very broad statements can somewhat safely be made, but diet simply isn’t a one-size-fits-all affair. We respond genetically differently to the same thing and diet is deeply intertwined with psychological and emotional responses that vary by person. The average low-carb dieter doesn’t experience a 300 mg increase in total cholesterol. But that obviously matters little to me because I did.

After some research, I found several diet variants that promised to lower cholesterol with a high fat diet. It would still be a low carb diet. Most of the fat would come from olives, olive oil, and tree nuts such as almonds, walnuts, and pecans. The nuts had to be mostly raw, although, some dry roasted nuts were acceptable. Most of the carbs would come from the nuts too, but one could also eat green leafy vegetables in abundance. Chicken breast, salmon, and tuna were among the staples as far as protein goes.

So I once again overhauled my diet. I didn’t give up on eggs. I usually had two boiled eggs daily. But the diet was overall much less satisfying than my previous diet. Basically, eating became somewhat of a utilitarian thing for me over the next two months. Frankly, there were a few times that I skipped meals because I preferred hunger to eating what was on my diet plan.

After two months of very strict eating, my weight stayed about the same but I added about an inch in waist girth. I was able to lift more weight in my regular weightlifting exercises in pretty much every muscle group, but I added no measurable bulk to my muscles. Finally the day arrived to do the fasting lipid panel once again. When the lab results came back, my total cholesterol was 164. My HDL, LDL, VLDL, and triglycerides were all in the optimum range.

Most doctors will tell you that the results I achieved are simply not possible without drug supplementation. Let me put this as succinctly as possible. THEY ARE WRONG! I have proven that one can drastically cut blood serum cholesterol in a relatively short period of time with diet alone. But it comes at a cost.

Thus, I am still left wondering what to do about my diet. I certainly don’t want to add any waist girth. I was more slender when I was eating tastier but higher cholesterol foods. I was also more psychologically and physically satisfied. But I’m not about to return to a 400+ total cholesterol reading.

Maybe I am stuck with the unpleasant fact that Mark Twain was right when he quipped, “The only way to keep your health is to eat what you don't want, drink what you don't like, and do what you'd rather not.”

It’s stuff like this that makes the eternal world look increasingly appealing.

Moving a Parent Out of Their Home of 50 Years

2011-09-04T08:28:00.000-06:00

Mom had difficulty sleeping the night after first meeting with the realtor. She had known for years that she needed to get out of her home due to ongoing yard and home maintenance issues that now exceed her capacities (and interests). But contemplating the sheer amount of work involved in the project coupled with the emotional impact of leaving her home of five decades left Mom feeling overwhelmed.

A couple of days later we began the process of boxing up stuff and moving furniture to a storage unit. The realtor had explained that selling a home in a declining real estate market requires some different strategies than selling in an appreciating market — which is roughly the kind of market we had for two decades straight before it crashed.

First, we were told to remove all wall hangings and any non-fixed items that give the home personality, including religious icons and family photos. Next we were to take all furniture out of the house that Mom could live without for 90 days. We could leave essentials along with a few pieces that went against walls without taking much floor space.

The concept behind these measures is that the average homebuyer in a declining market is seeking to move up from something smaller, perhaps an apartment. Taking things out of the home makes it look larger. Removing things that give the home personality allows prospective buyers to ‘paint themselves into a somewhat empty canvas.’

The third element was to price the home just right. Realtors got used to overpricing homes when the market was appreciating. If you didn’t sell a home right away, you’d sell it a few months later when the market caught up to the asking price.

In a declining market it becomes difficult to reach the going market rate if you price the property too high at the outset. The longer the home remains on the market, the greater the disparity between the asking price and the market value. As the home fails to sell, the owner often drops the price every couple of months without ever catching up to the market.

For this reason, the realtor explained that it’s best to sell a home rapidly when the market is declining. He had done his homework. He laid out his case for pricing the home. But he also explained that if they didn’t see serious buyer interest within 10 days, it was a clear sign that we were asking too much.

After the initial work party, we continued to make trips to the storage unit with additional boxes and items. So the home looked fairly open by the time the first customers came to look.

Mom had a serious offer seven days after the realtor’s sign went up in front of the home. The prospective buyer was pre-qualified for the loan. That meant that everything could go pretty quickly.

We had a couple of weeks to consider options. During that time, Mom looked at a series of homes. She had considered moving to a location that was more centrally located to her various children. She found a lovely home in that area. But after much thought, she felt that it would ultimately be best to live closer to the area with which she is already familiar.

We then looked at every home in the target area that had a chance of meeting Mom’s criteria. Alas, none of them was quite right for Mom. As the date for moving out neared, Mom decided to temporarily stay with a family friend so that she could look for a new home at a more relaxed pace.

We had the final moving out party scheduled for last Saturday. Unfortunately, Mom’s older sister passed away earlier that week and the funeral was scheduled for Saturday. So we moved stuff on Friday. Some family members took time off work for that event.

During the week, several friends and family members had spent days working at Mom’s house boxing things up. In the evenings after work, I would go over and haul the boxes to the storage unit. This made the final moving event a little easier, as we were mainly left with appliances and larger pieces of furniture.

As it happened, that Friday was one of the hottest days of the year. We worked like the dickens to move stuff to the storage unit. One of the big jobs was clearing out the shed. We had concentrated on getting stuff out of the house over the previous month, but we had left the outside shed until the last moment.

Still, within seven hours, the home was cleared out. Everyone relinquished their keys to the place. We placed the keys on the kitchen counter, locked the door for the last time, and left the home where I had grown up.

I had expected to feel some kind of separation anxiety myself as we drove away from the home. Oddly, that didn’t happen. I guess I had already gone through that during the process of moving Mom out over the space of a month. I felt only the relief of a hard task finally being finished.

Mom hasn’t gone looking for homes for the past week. She wanted to give that a rest for a while. She will get back to house hunting soon.

On the plus side, this is a buyer’s market. On the downside, the home that meets all of Mom’s criteria doesn’t exist in the real world. Nor could it be built, since some of Mom’s desires conflict with each other. Mom will have to compromise with herself before she can settle on a new residence.

Frankly, I do not look forward to moving Mom into a new place. I look at the stuff in the storage unit and think to myself that there is no rational reason that a single person of Mom’s age should have even a third of that stuff. But it will all have to be moved out and handled.

Some of the stuff (probably a lot more than should) will go to Mom’s new place. Some will be sold. Some will be given away. And some will be thrown out. That is going to be a big project. The emotional attachment to things will make it harder than necessary. But perhaps having lived without some of these things for a while will allow Mom to realize which items she really needs and which she can live without.

Sending a Child Away to School

2011-08-19T11:21:00.000-06:00

He stood there by himself looking kind of forlorn. I took one last glance over my shoulder at my incredibly smart, gifted, and talented son standing by a lamp post near the dorm that will be his home for the next nine months. The summer day was sunny and warm.

Despite the numbers of fellow university students and family members wandering around, my normally confident son looked lonely and unsure. Part of the problem is that none of his close friends (of which he has many) will be attending the same university. He had options to attend the universities where most of his friends are going, but none of those schools offered the kind of program in which my son is (at present) interested.

I had various mixed emotions as my wife and I walked to our vehicle. Despite my son's uncertainty, I was completely certain that he would be just fine. It never takes him long to find friends in new situations. I was pretty sure that he would start some great friendships before the evening was out.

For my part, I was in a hurry to get on the road. I knew that we'd be battling rush hour traffic part of the way and I had a commitment to keep at home. Besides, it's not as if my son is stuck on a remote campus. He's planning to come home over Labor Day weekend. Our regular course of activities will bring us close enough to see him at school from time to time as well.

Thinking of a similar situation from my younger days, I started to remember how I felt. I was a little homesick for the first few days. But I was soon so engulfed in my new duties that much of the uncertainty quickly faded. Sure, there were new and different things to deal with. But like almost everyone else, I quickly learned to cope. I am quite confident that my son's experience will be similar; perhaps even better.

Moving away from home into a university dormitory is a huge step in my son's young life. Moving a child out of our home was somewhat of a step for me too, but I was more focused on the tasks to which I need to attend over the next few days. Getting my son to the university and getting back home was one of the tasks, but hardly the only one that is significant.

I wrote a few weeks ago about my Mom putting her home of half a century on the market. We followed the realtor's advice. Mom got a credible offer on the home a week after the sign went in the front yard. That's a very rapid turn over in the current real estate market. The realtor obviously knows what he is doing.

Ever since getting the offer, Mom has been looking intensely at homes. She keeps changing her mind about what kind of home she should get. She actually made an offer on a beautiful home. I was thinking that she and Dad should have moved into a home like that eight years ago when they returned from their mission. Mom is still in pretty good shape for her age, but the home is likely too much for her to care for at present. Mom sensed this too. She ended up withdrawing her offer.

But we still have to get Mom moved out of her current home by the end of the month. We have moved a bit of stuff at a time to a storage unit. But there is still a fair amount of stuff that has to go. Since Mom hasn't decided on a new residence, we are making arrangements for her to live temporarily with family. That means sorting out what can go into storage and what Mom absolutely must take with her. Then when Mom decides where to live we will have to move everything again.

The situation with Mom is only one of the things that is keeping us hopping at present. There are so many end-of-summer and start-of-school events going on that we barely have time to breathe. Getting my son moved to the university turned into just another current in this huge stream of events.

I must say, however, that I am very proud of my son. He has worked hard in school. He starts at the university with a year and a half of college credit already under his belt. The entire floor of his dormitory is reserved for students that have been accepted into the university's honors program. Despite his academic focus, my son managed to enjoy social life in high school. I'm certain that this pattern will continue in his university life.

Impeachment Is for Serious Government Criminals

2011-08-17T21:18:00.000-06:00

I cringed when I read a post by a local citizen suggesting that the mayor of our city should be impeached for his administration's response to the current public works facility controversy. The citizen had discovered that local officials in North Ogden can neither be impeached nor subjected to a recall election. They can, however, be removed through a judicial process if they have committed crimes.

The citizen's writings reminded me once again that many do not understand the purpose or process of impeachment. Moreover, few seem to grasp the gravity of the matter and the long-term damage it wreaks on the political system.

In short, impeachment is for actual criminals. For that matter, it is for those that commit relatively serious crimes — crimes that most citizens think should disqualify the person from holing office. Impeachment is not a tool to be used at a whim to attack one's political opponents.

Impeachment is only the first step in a process. Impeachment is similar to a grand jury indicting a suspected criminal. It is like pressing formal charges in a case. No legal consequences apply unless the impeached individual is convicted. And then the only consequence that can apply is removal from office and disqualification from holding office. (Although criminal and civil suits may also be brought through regular legal channels.)

At the federal level, a sitting U.S. official must be impeached by the House of Representatives. Members of the house vote on each point in a resolution. Only those points that receive a majority of votes are included in the impeachment.

The process next moves to the U.S. Senate, where members from the House of Representatives act as the prosecution. The impeached official is allowed to have legal defenders. Conviction is achieved only when at least a two-thirds majority votes to sustain at least one of the charges brought by the House of Representatives.

The Founders obviously intended it to be very difficult to achieve conviction because of the serious nature of the matter. Impeachment is so serious that at the federal level, only 19 U.S. officials have ever been impeached. Only eight of those were ultimately removed from office, although, three others resigned. The others were acquitted. (The only two U.S. Presidents to be impeached, Andrew Johnson and Bill Clinton, were among the acquitted number.)

The citizen that liked the idea of impeaching our mayor could not say that the mayor had committed any crime whatsoever. As noted in my previous post, it seems an awful lot like the mayor is thumbing his nose at a significant number of his constituents. This may be unwise political behavior, but it is hardly illegal.

When an official holding a significant political office is impeached, it generates a high level of public ill will. It discredits our system in the minds of many citizens. Of course, if the individual has committed notable and widely condemned crimes, it is certainly in the best interest of the people for impeachment to go forward.

But short of this standard, the ballot box is the best place for ousting political officials that we feel should not hold an office. Even after acrimonious campaigns, the regular pattern is for power to be transferred in an orderly and peaceable manner when an incumbent loses. Although some may harbor ill will toward and refuse to support the winner, most quickly recognize the winner's legitimacy.

Impeachment, especially of chief executives of governmental entities, tends to cause negative ripples throughout the system that impact the public psyche for entire generations. That is one reason that impeachment should be rare enough to be reserved for fairly serious crimes.

Some of my city's residents are understandably upset about the mayor's handling of the public works facility issue. Given that Mayor Harris' term expires on 1/1/2014, the citizens will have to put up with him for at least 28+ months. Two years from now public passion on this matter may have dropped enough to allow the mayor to cruise to an easy re-election. Thus, it is also understandable that the mayor's opponents would like to see him ousted sooner rather than trying to beat him at the ballot box later.

But even if impeachment were an option in our city, nothing that we know of that the mayor has done rises even to the minimum standards required for impeachment, let alone the higher de facto standards that have evolved over the years. Unless the mayor's opponents know something I don't know, the mayor is at no risk of being removed through a judicial proceeding.

The mayor's opponents should give up on trying to find a way to remove him from office before the end of his term. They should focus instead on the upcoming election where they have a chance of ousting three council members that support the mayor's actions. Then they should cultivate a candidate that has a chance of beating the mayor in 2013. They have two years to get that campaign put together.

In other words, the mayor's opponents should take the long view and focus their efforts on activities that have a plausible chance of succeeding instead of angrily lashing out in ways that will produce no positive political results.

North Ogden City to Citizen Taxpayers: Shut Up and Pay Up!

2011-08-16T20:48:00.005-06:00

North Ogden City leadership has been angling for a new public works facility for several years now. It seems, however, that anything they do in this vein ends up being unpopular enough to draw citizen ire. The current situation seems like another cycle in that pattern.

The current public works facility is getting rundown. The two-acre lot where it has sat for decades is too small for current and future needs. Much of the equipment is exposed to the elements year round. Due to covered space limitations, employees often work on equipment out in the weather throughout the year. I believe that most city residents agree that something needs to be done about the situation.

A couple of years ago the city named a site for a new public works facility on property already owned by the city. But it was hard against a residential area and far from the city's business/industry areas. Opposition to the site caused the city to eventually back down.

Then a few months ago it was announced that the city would locate the facility on another piece of property owned by the city. It seems that city leaders were unaware that the property had been sold to the city at a greatly reduced price by a local family under the premise that it would only be used as a public park. Some city leaders tried to push the city's case, noting that the city was not technically legally obligated to honor the 12-year-old agreement. In the end, the city backed down once again.

Some residents were unhappy about the process. It appeared to them that city leadership had deliberately worked out the details under the public radar in an effort to prevent public input.

Many citizens were surprised when city leaders recently voted to bond for $10 million to construct a new public works facility. Opponents have noted that adequate facilities for cities of a similar size have recently been built for less than $2 million. When city leaders got wind of opposition being raised to the bond effort, they pushed up the vote on the matter. It passed the city council 4-1.

However, the city did hold a public hearing on the matter after the fact. This hearing was attended by over 300 people, most of whom were opposed to the size of the bond. While governments throughout the U.S. are struggling to reduce debt and expenditures, it is as if North Ogden's leadership is thinking, "What an awesome time to increase debt and taxes!" (Disguising the taxes as utility payments does not alter their basic nature.)

City leaders became aware at the meeting that some residents had started a petition drive to get the bond measure put on November's ballot. Last Friday, sponsoring citizens presented the petition to the city. It had about 3,000 signatures, which represents one-sixth of all residents and about a third of registered voters. I should note that two of the petition drive sponsors have filed to run for city council this fall. Yesterday the city filed a lawsuit against the petitioners specifically naming the two sponsoring city council candidates as defendants.

The city attorney says that the city finds at least 10 legal defects with the petition and the petition process (see Standard.net article). Of the statute about public petitions the attorney says, "The law is quite technical." That's code for saying that the law is designed to prevent citizen input. The lawyer basically says that the citizens have no recourse at this point and that the city can move ahead with the bond even if a significant number of citizens are opposed to it.

One of the candidate defendants in the lawsuit makes it clear that this is not about technicalities surrounding the petition. It is about city leaders paying attention to the citizens they supposedly represent.

I have stayed somewhat aloof from all of the wrangling surrounding the public works facility. I did not sign the petition, nor have I offered support to any candidate for a city leadership position. The U.S., its states, and local governments operate under a republican form of government. The Founders intended this to prevent or at least ameliorate the worst government abuses.

The founders recognized the folly in democratic forms of government, which tend to lead to tyranny of the majority. In general, it seems to me that creating public policy by popular vote of the citizenry tends to produce far worse policy than political deal making among elected politicians.

But I also believe that citizens have a right to petition their government for redress of grievances. They have a right to be heard by those elected to represent them. In a republic, elected officials are the servants of the people, not vice versa.

In this particular case, the petitioners are simply asking that those that will have to pay increased taxes for the $10 million bond be allowed to vote up or down on the matter. The petitioners are in no way assured of what the outcome of such a vote would be. They just want the taxpayers to have a more direct say in the matter.

Any lawyer worth his salt should be able to find technical fault with any public petition. That's really not the issue here. The issue is whether one-third of the city's voters should be ignored. Any city leader that demonstrates such an attitude deserves to be booted out of office.

Frankly, the city's actions smack of abuse of power. Whether the elected officials and city employees involved see it this way or not, they should recognize how it looks to the public at large.

Three city council seats are up for election this fall. The primary is less than a month away. It will be interesting to see how the incumbents fare. They have just handed a motivated opposition an issue that will be fire in the belly for the opposition's supporters. They have elevated two challenging candidates to celebrity status.

I note that four years ago when the city held a primary election for these same three council seats, only 918 voters bothered to show up. If the petition sponsors can leverage a goodly portion of the 3,000 voters that signed the petition, they should have no problem ousting the incumbent council members.

Since city leaders are treating the petitioners like their opinions are unimportant, the best avenue left to them is at the ballot box. Ousting council incumbents would send a strong message to the remaining city leadership. It may be the only message they can understand at this point.

I may be miscalculating the level of ire among voters. In fact, the most likely scenario would be for the primary election to draw only marginally more voters than did the primary election of four years ago. It is also likely that the broad field of challengers will dilute the opposition vote enough to allow the incumbents to prevail. Much will come down to how well the challengers leverage this situation to their benefit.

Despite the fact that I count two of the incumbent council members as personal friends, I have to say that I would like to see all three incumbents lose in the primary election. It seems to me that our city leadership needs to be taught a lesson that cannot be ignored.

Humans Judging God's Performance

2011-07-30T20:59:00.001-06:00

I'm not quite sure what to make of the poll reported in this KSL article that attempts to assess the respondents' opinions of God's performance. The Democratic polling firm Public Policy Polling reports that 52% of respondents approve, 9% disapprove, and 40% aren't sure.

I haven't looked into the sampling methods, so I'm not sure exactly how PPP derived its results. But it seems to me that the entire premise of the question denotes a profound misunderstanding of the nature of God.

Let me qualify that. I'm speaking mainly of monotheism. I have too little experience with polytheism to address the nature of the human-divine relationship under that philosophy. But since the vast majority of Americans adhere to some form of monotheism, it seems safe to assume that most of the poll's respondents do so as well.

Most monotheistic philosophies portray Deity as omniscient and omnipotent. In other words, God comprehends all that can be known in the universe and is simultaneously all powerful.

Given this, how is it that humans — who by nature are severely limited in their grasp of knowledge and ability to control themselves, let alone the universe — can even assume that it is appropriate to judge God?

Most monotheistic philosophies teach that our mortal lives are but a tiny fragment of our eternal existence. Let's bring this down to a more understandable level. If all you knew about a movie director was 15 seconds of one of the films he directed, how appropriate would it be to judge him and the entire body of his life's work?

The question is not whether we approve of God's performance; it is whether we accept God. Having accepted God, the question becomes whether God approves of us — whether we are striving to adhere to the commandments he gives us because of his love for us, with our everlasting joy being the object.

Every poll has some kind of agenda behind it. It's not clear to me what PPP's agenda is with this particular poll. Maybe they're just goading people. But it seems clear that many of the respondents are confused about the basic nature of their relationship to God.

Stuff Addiction

2011-07-28T20:40:00.001-06:00

A week and a half ago our family embarked on an adventure that has been difficult and challenging for all involved: getting ready to sell my Mom's home.

After living in apartments for the first few years of their marriage, Mom and Dad arranged to have a starter home built. The idea was to live in the home for about a decade before moving into something nicer. That was nearly five decades ago.

Every time my parents thought about moving out of the home, something came up. At the 10 year mark, some of Dad's family came from Germany and spent the summer with us. My parents felt it necessary to take them to many tourist destinations in the region. They also felt it necessary to install a central A/C unit because my German relatives wouldn't be used to the arid Utah summer climate. All of that ate up the money my folks had hoped to use toward a new home.

Within a few years after that came a number of missions, weddings, and helping young adults get started in life. That consumed excess funds that might have helped buy a new house.

Eventually my parents served a mission. Although they didn't want to live in the same house when they returned, there were so many things to do to get ready for the mission that they couldn't bear to even think about trying to sell the home at that time. Besides, they let one of my siblings live in it rent free for the time they were gone.

By the time Mom and Dad could think about getting into a new home, their dwelling needs had changed significantly. They looked at homes, but they had difficulty achieving a unified vision of what kind of home they needed. When Dad's health went downhill, any thought of moving was out of the question.

Dad made me promise on his deathbed that I would get Mom out of that house and get her into something more suitable. In the three years since then, Mom has halfheartedly looked at new homes. She has repeated over and over that she can't keep up with the current home's maintenance needs. But she has never gotten serious about the matter.

Something has changed this summer. Dad was very handy. He did many upgrades to the home over the years. For its age and type it looks nice and is in pretty good condition. But Dad also enjoyed creating features that ostensibly would require maintenance within a few years. I think Dad enjoyed having to re-work these features after a while.

But Dad's not here anymore. I did not inherit Dad's handyman gene. One of my brothers did, but he lives half an hour away and has his own property to care for. Mom has been reluctant to hire out the work. The upshot is that nothing gets done and Mom feels oppressed by the ever increasing load of projects crying for attention.

A few weeks ago Mom started talking about selling the home once again. I admit that I was shocked when she actually called a real estate profession and asked to meet with him. I attended the meeting at Mom's request.

It is no secret that the northern Utah home market is in the tank. There are lots of properties on the market right now and prices are in a declining trend. Many homes remain on the market for months and even years without selling. But this fellow has demonstrated his ability to sell homes of all kinds even in a poor market. It all comes down to pricing and aggressive marketing work.

The starting price the realtor suggested seemed pretty low. But he had done his homework. He carefully laid out the case for his suggestion, backing it up with ample research. He even said that it may be necessary to go even lower than this price to sell in a reasonable amount of time.

Selling homes in a declining market requires a different approach, the realtor explained. He said that we needed to move absolutely everything out of the house that Mom didn't need within the next 90 days. We were also told to de-personalize the home so that prospective buyers wouldn't be influenced by my folks' decor choices. Prospective buyers need a relatively blank canvas onto which they can paint themselves. This meant taking down nearly all wall hangings.

We were also instructed to get most of the furniture out of the house. Any furniture that remained was to take as little floor space as possible.

Dutifully, we began boxing up stuff and moving it to a storage unit last Thursday. We did a lot more work on Friday. I brought a moving van on Saturday and many family members spent many hours hauling the larger items to the storage unit. I was grateful for the Sunday break, but we were back at it on Monday. We ended up getting a second storage unit and moving some of the stuff from the first unit in there, while adding more stuff.

It turns out that 50 years of living in one place can result in significant stuff buildup.

As we have moved things into the storage units I have thought about how many of these things will never go to Mom's new home, regardless of what it ends up looking like or how big it is. I see five classes of stuff:

Stuff that should be thrown away.
Stuff that is of marginal quality and utility.
Stuff that is nice but that Mom will never use again.
Stuff that Mom actually needs.
Stuff that Mom will keep for mainly sentimental reasons.

Even though some stuff won't go to Mom's new home, we stored it because we didn't have time to make decisions about it right now. I suspect that it will be easier to part with some of these things after they have been in storage for a while.

We have continued the project throughout this week, but at a slower pace. I think the home is finally ready to show. But it has been a heck of a lot of work. (And there will still be a whole lot more work to do to clear out the home when it finally sells.)

But the work has only been a portion of the challenge. The emotional toll on Mom has been significant. Mom says that she realizes that this is necessary. She has worked very hard this past week. But the emotional turmoil of thinking about moving out of her home and neighborhood (a place she loves among people she loves) has been difficult. All in all, I think Mom has handled the situation quite admirably.

As we have worked to move stuff out of Mom's place, I have heard family member after family member remark that they have to go home and start de-junking. We all said it many times. But we likely won't do it. Life is busy. De-junking isn't fun. We tend to put off that kind of thing until we're forced into it.

Right now my wife and I envision a day when we become empty-nesters (or nearly empty-nesters). I have a fantasy about leisurely taking weeks and months to de-junk our home at that distant future date, and then putting the home up for sale after months of careful preparation. We would then move into something more suitable for empty-nesters with a whole lot less stuff than we have now. I doubt it will work out like that in real life.

During this moving project I have reflected on why people in our culture tend to accumulate so much stuff. Do we acquire and hold onto stuff in some kind of vain attempt to validate our existence? You know, "I have substance, so I am substantial. I have stuff to prove that I exist—to prove that I matter."

Why did I put my old electric shaver on the shelf instead of throwing it away when I got a new one last month? True, it isn't completely dead. But it's pretty shot. Why didn't I throw it away? If I don't do so soon, it will be among the myriad things I look at when we eventually move from our current home and wonder why I kept it around all those years.

Years ago I came to the conclusion that everything I own owns a piece of me. Not only does it take up space, it takes my time. It takes energy just to think about it and to categorize it. (I am remembering an old toilet seat that I replaced years ago but that is still in the crawl space under the stairs.) Even that owns a little piece of me.

The idea, I guess, is to keep only stuff that comes out good on the cost-benefit scale, and to get rid of everything else. Since the factors in such an analysis change as our lives change, it takes energy to undertake that process as well. I guess it's the cost of de-junking that keeps me from doing it.

Maybe I will live to regret that.

Laid Off!

2011-07-08T21:19:00.000-06:00

Three months ago I was laid off from the job I had worked at for more than 11 years. It wasn’t a huge surprise that there was to be another round of layoffs, given the company’s finances. I had survived many layoffs, but not this time.

In yet another cost-cutting measure, the company decided to get rid of almost all of its software developers. The two youngest were retained, but one of those soon left for another job. This sounds cruel to the more experienced workers, but it was likely for the best. Longer term workers had built up more leave and severance pay. Had the less seasoned guys been laid off, they could well have been out of money before they had new jobs.

Moreover, I had been blessed to work for an employer that offered a fairly generous severance plan. Along with getting my leave cashed out, I had enough money to last for a couple of months.

I was one of the very few fortunate ones. Even as I sat in my manager’s office, I was offered a temporary four-to-six month position at another of the company’s offices doing exactly what I had been doing. Maybe the position would eventually become permanent; maybe not. But at least I could search for a new job while still being employed.

While this was a tremendous blessing, it was also a bit of a challenge. The moment I arrived home, I initiated my job search. My job searching activities became a second job to which I applied myself with great energy. Some of my former co-workers had been pro-active enough to already have job interviews lined up.

I soon discovered that it wasn’t terribly difficult to get a job interview. The information technology sector is one of the few parts of the economy that has picked up. Many companies are looking to technology to help them cut costs and reduce the need for other types of workers. I had my first interview just two days after being laid off.

But I quickly found that actually getting to the point of receiving a job offer can be quite challenging, especially for a developer with my level of seniority. Many employers are looking for junior level developers, which are much cheaper and often more flexible. The employers that are looking for experienced developers tend to want very specific skills. They tend to want highly skilled, narrowly focused gurus rather than broad-based steady workers.

Prospective employers are also not very keen on hiring into a more junior position someone that has been used to working at a senior level, even if you are willing to work for less pay. They suspect that you will be gone the moment a better paying job comes along.

The whole hiring process is very similar to dating and courting. Interviews are like dates. Both the employer and the applicant are testing the relationship to see if it is something that feels like a good fit.

I walked out of some interviews feeling that it had gone badly. I walked out of others expecting a callback that never came. I walked out of some hoping that they weren’t interested in me because I certainly wasn’t interested in them. Some interviews went well, but ended with the realization that it was not a good fit. Frankly the whole process was challenging and frustrating.

As far as I.T. workers go, I discovered too late that it is likely better to pursue job offers through recruiters. Recruiters make money from successfully placing applicants in jobs. They develop relationships with hiring managers, so they have contacts that are difficult for applicants to develop on their own. They are able to finesse situations and present a better picture of the applicant, even if the applicant isn’t particularly adept at interviewing.

But recruiters are essentially sales people. Some can tend to paint too optimistic of a picture. Many are just looking to bolster their next paycheck. If they can’t immediately place you, they drop you like a hot potato. Some, on the other hand, are very good at what they do.

I found that it can be a mistake to just start applying willy-nilly on positions announced on job websites. Many of those go into some ethereal file that no one cares to ever look at. Another problem is that recruiters usually can’t represent you to a potential employer if you have already applied there on your own.

A good approach would be to develop relationships with several recruiters and to continue to look for jobs on your own. If you find something you’re interested in, you could shop it to your recruiter pool to see if any already have a contact at the firm.

On the other hand, some employers refuse to work with recruiters. By chatting with recruiters you can find out which companies those are, so that you can apply there on your own. Recruiters often know enough about a company to give you a feel for the company’s culture. You can get an idea of how well you might fit into the organization.

A very important avenue that should not be overlooked is to ask everyone you personally know for help in finding a job. You never know when a friend, family member, or acquaintance might have a contact that could lead to a job. Most jobs come through networking with people. In fact, you should pursue your job search from every possible angle, because you never know where your next job might come from.

Following advice of a job coach, I created an email ‘newsletter’ to all of my personal contacts. I then spammed them with an email message that had my resume attached. A few responded: some with opportunities and some with encouragement. I later found that others had prayed for me. Interestingly, this little newsletter eventually led to my new job, although, the process took a while.

Along the way, I worked with a professional job coach that helped me bring my resume into the 21st Century. I found that it is good for someone with multiple skills to keep various resume versions that highlight specific skills. Employers looking for narrow skills often care little about the other skills you have developed. In some cases, having those skills on your resume can hurt you, because it looks like you are not specialized enough for the position they have open.

A couple of months before being laid off, I had obtained a smartphone. Up until then, I had been just fine with a “feature phone” (aka “dumb phone”). But I found that the smartphone offered many features that proved extremely helpful during my job search, including immediate email and Internet connectivity.

After nearly a dozen interviews, I interviewed with a firm that seemed like a natural fit for me. Moreover, the opportunity had come through an old Scouting buddy, who worked in the company’s I.T. department. I was grateful when an H.R. representative called to offer me a position.

Unfortunately, the offer was far below what I felt I could accept. We dickered, but we were still so far apart that we concluded that we couldn’t make it work. I was disappointed, but continued with my search. A couple of weeks later, I was surprised when the H.R. representative called and offered me the lowest amount I said I could accept. My wife and I took a day to consider the offer before accepting it.

I have been at my new job for a month now. It is challenging, but it is also a great job. Frankly, I took a serious pay cut from my former position. Some of the benefits are a far cry from those I used to have. But in many ways, the work is better. And the shorter commute makes up for some of the shortfalls.

It has been common since the start of the recession for workers losing their jobs to be rehired at jobs that don’t pay as well. So I suppose that I’m simply part of the new workplace reality. Still, I’m not complaining. I am very grateful for my job. We have made a few sacrifices to make our budget work, but I am ever so pleased just to be employed.

As I said, I am one of the fortunate ones. Although I was laid off, I was never really unemployed. I got severance pay and a temporary job from my former employer that helped me bridge the gap until I could settle in a new permanent job.

The weeks that I spent in job search activities weren’t very fun for me. As I wrote above, the job search was challenging and frustrating. But I applied myself to it as if it were another job. I worked very hard following up leads, making phone calls, sending emails, interviewing, searching for jobs, etc.

I worked at it so much that it was kind of odd when I accepted my new job. All of that activity abruptly stopped. I suddenly had all of those hours available for other stuff. It was a huge relief, but I strangely found myself missing it for the first few days. I was surprised at how rapidly my stream of incoming emails and phone calls dried up. Life is more peaceful now.

I waited a month to write about this because I wanted to settle into my new job. I now know what it takes to find a job in this job market. It requires a serious approach, a lot of work, flexibility, and some good luck. I am grateful that it all worked out for me.

July 2, 2011: Camp Loll Still Inaccessible Due to Snow

2011-07-03T17:05:00.002-06:00

For some time I had planned to drive my son to Camp Loll, BSA on July 2 so that he could begin working there for two weeks as a camp counselor trainee.

Normally the first week of campers arrives on the last Monday in June. That means that the first weekend in July is the conclusion of that week and preparation time for week #2. By the time week #1 starts, the staff has usually been in camp for two weeks. During that time they prepare the physical facilities and train to run the camp program.

This year is different. The winter season brought far more moisture than is common. The spring was unusually cool and wet. It is not uncommon for the staff to deal with a few downed trees, mud bogs, and occasional snow banks as they make the first long drive over the dirt roads that lead to camp. But this year there has been so much snow on the road that there was no possibility of vehicles reaching camp before now. It turned out that there was no possibility of vehicles reaching camp yesterday either.

We started out the day stopping at various points to pick up staffers on the trip northward. Our caravan was larger than usual because we had more people and gear than usual. We made a stop in Idaho Falls and then had lunch in a park in Ashton, Idaho.

Loll staffers socializing before lunch in Ashton, Idaho

Enjoying the shade

We put gas in the vehicles and then started the 34-mile drive to Camp Loll. Once the pavement ended I was surprised at how good the condition of the dirt road was. Given Delose Conner's posts (and pictures) of attempts to reach camp over the past few weeks (6/12, 6/21, 6/24, 6/27), I thought the road would be worse.

Then we arrived at the stretch that leads down to Calf Creek. This section gets less sunlight. We expected that we'd have to dig through snow drifts here, but the depth and length of the drifts were surprising.

400 Yards of Snow up to 5 Feet Deep

We started applying manual labor to the situation. Some thought that it would have been good to have a snow plow on one of the trucks. But the snow was so densely packed that I doubt that would have been much good. The stuff had to be chopped up and shoveled out.

Unfortunately we had only about a dozen shovels. Most workers were reduced to using their hands to throw aside snow chunks created by the shovel wielders. I brought three scoop shovels. The staff managed to break all three of them.

Snow removal by shovel and hand

At one point we tried to get a Jeep through one of the drifts. It got high-centered so that the wheels could get no traction. The workers quickly got busy digging under the vehicle. They finally hooked a tow strap on and pulled it out by human power.

Scout power

A family from Layton soon came hiking up the road over the snow banks. They had left their truck parked at the beginning of the drifts and hiked into camp. They showed Delose pictures of the road into camp. They said that once we could get past the 400 yards of drifts we were working on that the road was pretty good until the turnoff to the Camp Loll road. Half of that final two-mile stretch to camp was also heavily snowbound.

Sensing that the day was waning, Delose assigned the rangers (all 18-25 years old) to continue working on the drifts, hike to camp, and stay the night in the lodge. They were then to bring all of the digging and chopping tools from the lodge back to the snow drifts in the morning.

We loaded up the rest of the staff and drove them back to Ashton, where they prepared to spend the night camped out under the stars in the yard of a kindly farmer. At this point I left my son along with the rest of the staff and headed back home.

I don't yet know how the rest of the story goes. The plan was to ferry the staff back to the snow drifts this morning to spend the day working on getting vehicles as close to camp as possible, and to do whatever was necessary to get the gear hauled to the lodge. It's a hard working way to spend a Sunday, but they don't know what else to do. I pray that they will get the staff and their gear to camp by tonight.

In the meantime, camp leaders are having to figure out how to deal with the nutrition, hydration, and sanitation needs of this large group of young staffers. It's a tough challenge.

The warmer temperatures and the clearer skies means that snow is now melting rapidly at Camp Loll and surrounding areas. The roads might be passable in a few more days even without digging. At this point, the staff cannot wait for that to happen naturally.

Tomorrow was to be the beginning of the second week of campers. The council has already cancelled the first two weeks of camp. The loss of that revenue presents a serious budgetary challenge for the camp. Camp leaders hope to get the camp and the staff ready in one week so that they can host campers on July 11. Once they survey the condition of the camp, they will know whether even that date is too optimistic.

There have been a few times during the history of Camp Loll that the first week of camp has been cancelled due to climate conditions. As far as I know, this is the only time the second week of camp has also been cancelled. I believe it is also the latest that the staff has been able to access the camp.

Camp support people here at home have been working to find some way to get a tractor up to the snow drifts. But that's a problem. Many owners of such equipment have gone away for the holiday weekend. Even if such equipment could be secured, a trained operator would be needed and both the equipment and the operator would need to be transported to the location. The staff will likely solve the problem through hard work before all of that can happen.

While this is a tough spot for camp leaders and staffers to be in, it will make for deep memories. It will also likely foster a special bond among the staffers that have this experience. Although I worry about my son, I am grateful that he has an opportunity to be part of this. He is rubbing shoulders with some very high quality youth. I hope he learns much good from them as they go through this experience together.

UPDATE: I just got word that they were able to get the staff and vehicles into camp at 4 pm today. There is lots of snow in camp, but it is melting rapidly. As has happened in other heavy snow years, the staff will work at doing snow removal in critical campground and program areas throughout this week. There will still be plenty of snow banks around when troops arrive next week, but they will hopefully still be able to run a regular program.

Grateful for the U.S.A.

2011-07-01T15:39:00.000-06:00

A few years ago I wrote about my annual pre-Independence Day liberty ritual. Every year I watch the six-hour series Liberty! The American Revolution. I follow that up with A More Perfect Union, which depicts the constitutional convention.

I actually watch these documentaries while working out in the morning. It's kind of funny, but I have great difficulty sitting down and watching anything on TV for more than a few minutes. I say that it's funny because I grew up being quite a TV connoisseur.

Nowadays I get antsy if I watch TV for any length of time. I can't stop thinking about all of the other things I could be doing. TV programs can't hold my interest for long. It's OK to have the TV on in the background while I do something else, but I just can't bring myself to devote much time to sitting down and watching TV. It isn't interactive enough.

This year I have added to my liberty ritual the reading of Pauline Maier's recent book, Ratification: The People Debate the Constitution, 1787-1788. Maier is recognized as one of the foremost authorities on the American Revolution and the early history of the United States.

I am currently about two-thirds of the way through Maier's book. I tend to agree with this Washington Post review of the book, which says:

"In contrast to historians who see the ratification of the Constitution as the result of elites' manipulation of the masses, Maier tells a far more suspenseful and complex story. Her superb work provides an object lesson in the value of the deliberative process and the extent to which moderation and compromise are at the very foundation of our government. As Maier convincingly shows, the Constitution's preamble did not simply represent a rhetorical flourish or an abstract philosophical theory. It was the very means by which "We the People" chose to embrace a peaceful revolution in government."

There is some evidence that more than half of the general population of the states opposed ratification of the Constitution in its original form. Its ratification was far from a sure thing. The story Maier tells shows how close the document came to not being ratified in many states. It is somewhat of a miracle that it happened at all.

However, opponents of the Constitution were also far from united in their views. A relative minority seems to have thought that the document was irredeemably flawed. Most opponents appear to have been in favor of remedying problems prior to its implementation. They understandably felt that they would be in a worse position to negotiate such changes once the document had gone into effect.

Maier shows that the deliberative process that occurred in very different ways in different states produced a general understanding of the people's perception of the Constitution's most egregious flaws. The result was that the Bill of Rights became the first item of business for the 1st U.S. Congress. It was championed by many that had previously argued against the need for such amendments.

In fact, most Americans quickly accepted the legitimacy of the new national government and recognized the value of the amended Constitution. While fights broke out on occasion when the Constitution was being discussed by people prior to its ratification, hardly anyone seems to have given serious thought to opposing the new government once the document was ratified. It was quite common for leaders of the opposition movement to run for Congress.

While it is all the rage in certain circles to pooh-pooh the idea of American exceptionalism nowadays, I believe that such a view requires one to willingly don blinders. The U.S. undeniably has its flaws, some of which are quite glaring. But the overwrought focus on those imperfections is as irrational as the unwillingness to acknowledge them.

I believe that a fair reading of history shows that the U.S., as far as nations go, has been the most consequential force for good known to mankind to date, notwithstanding its problems. Some of the best features of the American system have been successfully copied around the globe. Yet no other nation has yet so successfully generated so much liberty and prosperity among its citizens.

As a grateful beneficiary of this system, the story of how it all came about fascinates me. Regardless of whether one believes that this process was divinely guided or not, it must be recognized as quite remarkable. This is what I will be thinking about this weekend as we celebrate our nation's independence.

A Dad, Not a Superhero

2011-06-25T21:35:00.000-06:00

Last Sunday was Father's Day. I was among the fathers asked by the Primary to play a game. We went into Primary and were asked to respond to certain questions about ourselves. Our own kids were asked to give what they thought our responses would be. Points were given for correct matches.

I knew I was in trouble when we were asked about our favorite sport. You see, I'm not a sports guy. I have never much cared for sports. My personal athletic misfortunes included one season of football at age eight and three seasons of baseball from ages eight through ten. I was always one of the last kids picked for any athletic game of any kind in elementary school. And frankly, I was OK with that.

After my youthful unhappy sports seasons, I successfully avoided playing sports for many years except when absolutely necessary. When the other boys broke for the gym and the basketballs the moment "Amen" was uttered in the closing prayer at Mutual, I carefully steered clear of the gym and escaped.

Hanging out with kids in the neighborhood was a little bit different. When my friends wanted to play sports, I usually had to play too if I wanted to hang out with them. When the sport was basketball, I usually just sat on the side of the driveway while the other kids played and made shots. On some occasions, I was needed to make the teams even. But even in those cases, nobody really expected me to play and nobody would be so unwise as to throw the ball to me.

Football was different. I could be on the field with the guys without causing much of a problem. I didn't really hinder whichever team was unlucky enough to draw me. And occasionally I surprised everyone (including myself) by being marginally helpful.

Of course, I had to play a variety of sports in junior high and high school physical education classes. In those settings I found kindred spirits that were also athletic misfits. I did what was required, but nobody really expected me to perform at any sport.

Throughout the years I have mostly succeeded in avoiding being a sports spectator. I have not attended an actual professional sports game since going to a few cheap hockey games when I was a kid. Utah had a professional hockey team back in those days and our family somehow ended up with very cheap season tickets one year.

I have attended my kids' soccer and baseball games. But it is well known among my family members that I am not a sports guy. I could live without sports for the rest of my life and still feel happy and fulfilled.

One of the things I want to demonstrate for my kids is honesty. So when I was asked to write down my favorite sport, I had to honestly answer, "None." I was surprised when my daughter guessed that baseball was my favorite sport. I'm not sure she has ever seen me watch a baseball game. She was still very young by the time her older brothers had all wrapped up their very short baseball careers.

Besides, baseball has got to be one of the most boring sports on the face of the earth. The strategies could be mastered by someone with an IQ in the bottom 5th percentile. A full length baseball game lasts for-stinking-ever. Just wake me up when it's over.

I guess it could be worse. We could be watching golf instead.

My son guessed that soccer was my favorite sport. I have been to more soccer games in my lifetime than any other type of sport game. But that's only because my kids have played soccer. If my kids aren't playing, I don't watch soccer. (Or any other sport, for that matter.)

All of the other dads had favorite sports. Some of them really like certain sports and certain teams. I don't know what teams are out there. I don't know who the players are. I'm rarely even certain what 'season' it is. I really couldn't care less about stuff like that.

The rest of the questions were OK. The only other one that tripped me up was my favorite superhero. Every other dad gave the same answer: Superman. I'm not much of a superhero guy either. But I don't much care for Superman. He's an alien with fantastic physical powers. But he has a weakness for a hard-edged chain-smoking woman that ended up saving his wimpy butt in a recent movie.

I picked The Tic for my favorite superhero; although, upon reflection I would rather have selected Mr. Incredible. The Tic is a goofy spoof on superheroes. (I kind of like the quirky humor that was used in the cartoon series.) Mr. Incredible learns to be a better father.

Alas, my kids are stuck with me for their father. I don't do sports and I'm no superhero. But I do try to be a good father. On occasion I actually succeed.

Order of the Arrow Election Difficulties

2011-06-15T20:25:00.001-06:00

A few months ago, I was asked by the leadership of my local Boy Scout district to move from the district camping chair position to become the adviser of the local Order of the Arrow chapter. Not to worry. I have served in that position twice previously. Although, it has been a number of years since I last did so.

Upon beginning the position, I discovered that the chapter was in pretty bad shape. Very few new members have been elected in recent years. The boys that have been the most active are growing up and moving on. I could see that we urgently needed to recruit more members.

Of course, I knew how to do this. I had successfully led O.A. recruitment drives for years as a youth and as an adult.

The process of a boy becoming a member of the Order of the Arrow is somewhat drawn out. First, members of the order must visit the boy's scout troop to hold an election. At least half of the troop's registered youth must be present. To be eligible, a boy must:

Be active in the troop.
Have 15 nights of outdoor scout camping under his belt. (Only one long-term camp may be counted.)
Hold at least the First Class rank.
Be approved by the scoutmaster.

To be elected, a boy must receive at least half of the votes of those present. Once elected, the boy must go through the order's overnight and full-day induction, known as the Ordeal. Candidates are responsible for the cost of the event and for their own transportation.

The Ordeal is a challenging experience. During the Ordeal, candidates:

Sleep alone under the stars (or rain, or whatever the weather is doing) to learn self-reliance.
Spend a night and a day in silence to learn the art of meditation.
Eat scant food to learn self-denial in the face of trials.
Spend a day working at demanding service projects to learn cheerful service.

The event begins and ends with a ceremony where four principles dressed in Native American regalia explain the purpose of the order and ask candidates to commit themselves to a lifetime of cheerfully serving others. In other words, it takes rather significant commitment just to become a member of the order.

One of my first duties was to go to scoutmasters in the district to arrange to come to their troops hold O.A. elections. Having had good success at this in the past, I was somewhat surprised to find this an extremely difficult task. Many scoutmasters have said that they currently have no eligible boys. Others have said that none of their youth are interested.

When I was a boy, I wanted to be in the O.A. so badly that my teeth hurt. I knew lots of other boys that felt the same way. We knew going into it that the induction was challenging, but that made us want to do it all the more.

Times have changed. Youth today have far more potential outlets for their free time than when I was younger. They are not particularly drawn to a fraternal organization that promises lots of hard work. Perhaps this shouldn't be surprising, given the long-term trend toward social disengagement that I discussed in this 2007 post. Fraternal organizations of all stripes are having difficulty recruiting members.

One of the main reasons boys are not eligible for O.A. membership is that they lack enough nights of scout camping. Sometimes this is due to the troop's lousy camping program. But even troops with strong year-round camping programs in our area have few boys that are eligible. Troops hold camp outs, but boys often fail to show up. They've got other things going.

When I was a kid, no one in the troop would ever think of missing a troop camp out. Parents universally gave such events the highest priority. This too has changed. Parents in my area have far less commitment to the scouting program than did parents a generation ago.

Since boys in the 12-13 age range often are not eligible, some have wondered why we don't target the 14-15 age range instead. To put it bluntly, most of these boys in our area are no longer interested in scouting. Scouting is something they did when they were younger. They have passed on. It's kind of like a sixth-grader that still likes to watch Barney and Friends. It's just not cool.

Few registered Varsity Scout units in our district actually run a scouting program. This age group meets every week in the numerous LDS wards in our district, but only a few do any scouting at all. They run their own programs. Few Varsity Scout units are interested in having anything to do with the O.A. Even if one or two boys are interested, the rest of the unit simply isn't interested in holding elections.

I must hasten to add that part of the reason that few scoutmasters are interested in holding elections is that our chapter has for the past couple of years looked like a home for lost boys. The boys that have been most active and that have held leadership positions have seemed to be misfits. Frankly, scoutmasters look at this crew and see nothing that they want their boys to aspire to.

Our recruiting since I became chapter adviser has been beyond pathetic. Only two troops have actually held an election. (Two others have made appointments and then stood us up.) We have elected only three boys. Two of those have declined to attend an Ordeal.

We have two more Ordeals in the fall this year. Our best bet is to catch troops after they return from summer camp. More boys may then be eligible after having camped more nights and earning more advancements at camp.

All I can say for sure is that even holding O.A. elections is proving to be a far more difficult task than it was years ago. I hope we can successfully generate some activity. But realistically, it may take several years to re-build the chapter to a reasonable size.

The LDS Church Calls for a Balanced Approach to Illegal Immigration

2011-06-11T19:51:00.001-06:00

Immigration has been a pretty hot topic for the past few years. Almost everyone would agree that the current U.S. immigration system doesn't really work. Our current immigration laws simply aren't based in reality.

Moreover, it seems to me that the strongest voices on the immigration issue, while often opposing each other, work together to prevent the adoption of reality based immigration policies. Plus there are many parties for whom the status quo is satisfactory. They have no interest in achieving rational immigration policies.

Here in Utah, I have watched with interest as some conservatives—many of whom are members of the LDS Church—have come out in strong opposition to recently passed laws that the LDS Church has publicly supported. There has been much quibbling about whether statements issued by the church's PR department should be construed to reflect the will of the Lord, as expressed through revelation to his chosen servants.

The LDS Church has made several statements with respect to Utah's approach to immigration policy. Now the church has released this statement about immigration that goes further in clarifying the church's stance on the matter than any previous statement. It is more of a general policy and does not directly comment on Utah's immigration policies.

When I first read this KSL article about the church's recent statement, I came away with the sense that the church had rebuked those that have strongly opposed illegal immigration. Reading the actual statement left me with a different feeling.

The statement, it seems to me, offers a rather balanced approach. Central to the statement is a reminder of the chief principle guiding the church's approach to immigration. "The bedrock moral issue for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is how we treat each other as children of God."

Maybe if everyone involved took this principle as the main immigration policy guideline, it would be easier to find workable solutions to the problem. But care and concern are not synonymous with molly-coddling. The church promotes personal responsibility with the following statement:

"As a matter of policy, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints discourages its members from entering any country without legal documentation, and from deliberately overstaying legal travel visas."

The church makes it clear that the federal government is chiefly responsible both for our failed immigration policy as well as for solving the problem. The unchecked inflow of undocumented immigrants "may destabilize society and ultimately become unsustainable." That's a fairly strong warning.

The church goes on to say that "this issue is one that must ultimately be resolved by the federal government." Moreover, the church says that "the federal government of the United States should secure its borders and sharply reduce or eliminate the flow of undocumented immigrants." This does not sound like the do-nothing approach supported by some immigration advocates.

While advocating secure borders, the church asks for a far less stringent approach to "the estimated 12 million undocumented immigrants now residing in various states within the United States." The church is opposed to "mass expulsion or mistreatment of individuals or families." In fact, any policy that targets "any one group, particularly if that group comes mostly from one heritage" should be avoided.

This brings to mind the church's own history of having its members forcefully (or under threat of force) expelled from locations in Ohio, Missouri, and Illinois in the mid-1800s. Perhaps Latter-Day Saints should be among the foremost to advocate against anything that might even smack of similar treatment of others.

What to do with the undocumented immigrants currently in the U.S. is a difficult question. It is not feasible—nor do I think it should be considered desirable—to forcefully expel them from the country. The church believes that they should be "allowed to square themselves with the law and continue to work without this necessarily leading to citizenship."

There is a very vocal core for whom any "amnesty" program that allows illegal immigrants to "square themselves with the law" is anathema. In their thinking, such approaches threaten our national sovereignty and simply invite more illegal behavior. I get the sense that nothing short of expulsion or execution of illegal immigrants will suffice for some people.

While some of those that advocate for this position are vocal, they are known to be in the minority. They lack sufficient political clout to bring their desires to fruition. They do have enough power, however, to stymie progress toward feasible solutions. This plays right into the hands of those that prefer to keep things as they currently are.

The church openly opposes enforcement-only policies that fail to take a balanced approach to illegal immigration. In the eyes of the church, a balanced approach includes:

Compassion.
Reverence for the family.
Commitment to law.

Some illegal immigration opponents assert that not sending illegals back to their countries of origin is more likely to keep their families separated than allowing them to stay in the U.S., since many leave their families to come and work in the U.S. They conveniently ignore the millions of families in the U.S. that have one or more undocumented immigrants among their members.

As I said above, "commitment to the law" for some folks has only one possible approach when it comes to illegals: they must leave the country. The sooner the better.

After reading and considering the church's eight-paragraph statement on immigration, I see the church advocating for a reasonably balanced approach to a very difficult problem. The most strident voices on both sides of the issue are going to have trouble with the church's stance.

For some the statement will fall short of securing citizenship or something like it for the millions of undocumented immigrants currently in the country. Even if the U.S. comes up with a program that allows these people to become legal residents, political reality dictates that it will undoubtedly be a somewhat challenging process. Since many will be unable or unwilling to navigate that process, a large number of illegal immigrants will remain in the country.

For others the church's statement will seem tantamount to treason. Period.

Are there enough reasonable people in the country that are willing to make the necessary compromises to work toward a compassionate, lawful, and balanced solution to this complex and controversial issue? Sadly, I lack the confidence to answer yes to that question.

Why Does Deseret Book Sell Addictive Emotional Porn?

2011-06-03T15:41:00.000-06:00

Despite denials from some quadrants, the problems caused by pornography addiction are clear and well documented. It damages one’s ability to properly engage in normal human associations, especially intimate relationships. People become objects that are valued mainly for their appeal to carnal desires. Pornography’s effect on brain chemistry is similar to taking addictive drugs. Its use is frequently accompanied by an artificial high-low (mania-depression) cycle.

Visual porn is broadly recognized. Its appeal to and effect on males has been known and exploited for millennia. But what about emotional porn? What about porn that appeals to females? This KSL article notes that romance novels can become more than a casual escape for women. They can be as addictive for women as visual porn is for men.

Romance novels include “entrancing but distorted messages” about human relationships. The article says that “there are similarities between what happens to a man when he views pornography and what happens to a woman when she reads a romance novel.” The article says:

“Men are very visual, and viewing pornography produces a euphoric drug in the body. This drug is the reason pornography becomes addictive. When the natural high wears off, a man will crash and feel depressed (as happens with any drug) and crave another hit.

“Women are more stimulated by romance than sex, so when they read romantic stories (and they don’t have to be explicit to work) they can experience the same addicting chemical release as men do.”

It has long been known that visual porn causes men to become dissatisfied with their real relationships because no actual relationship can live up to the false fantasy world in which they immerse themselves. No real partner lives and breathes to satisfy one’s lusts without demanding much. Rarely does a real partner look as visually enticing as do surgically and graphically enhanced porn models.

Emotional porn works in a similar fashion for women. The article says, “Women may find their standard for intimacy begins to change over time because [they] may not be able to get as satisfied with their partners as they can reading a book.” Taking another euphoric hit from a book beats the humdrum reality of everyday relationship building.

This issue raises a question in my head. Every couple of months we get a catalog from Deseret Book in the mail. Deseret Book is owned by Deseret Management Corp., which in turn is fully owned by the LDS Church. Each issue of the catalog is filled with numerous romance novel offerings. Perhaps it’s my own perception, but it seems to me that these offerings have proliferated like crazy over the past couple of decades.

The romance novels sold at Deseret Book usually feature some kind of LDS or religious perspective that is absent in mainstream romance novels. But the fact of the matter is that these religious-ized novels follow the same basic tried and true romance fiction recipe that can’t help but distort human relationships. It’s what this genre of literature is designed to do—it’s prime directive, as it were. People wouldn't read it if it merely portrayed reality.

As the KSL article states, a romance novel doesn’t have to be explicit or erotic to be harmful. So I have to ask why Deseret Book carries so many of these books—emotional porn with a religious theme. DB would never sell visual porn even religious messages mixed in. So why does DB sell emotional porn?

I assumed that religiously themed romance novels must make up a huge percentage of DB’s profit, given the amount of catalog space continually devoted to such books. But when I last visited DB’s home page, no romance novels were among the chain’s top ten best sellers. In fact, no fiction works were among that group. The fiction page had five romance novels among its top ten list with four of them being the top four, but there is no accounting for how much these books generate in sales or profit.

I have to admit that I am somewhat romance story impaired. Maybe that’s natural for guys. Back in the days before the LDS historical novel genre exploded, I mentioned to a neighbor that I had enjoyed reading one of the few such works available at that time. She enthusiastically insisted that I read a LDS historical novel she owned of which I had never heard.

It didn’t take me long to realize that the book was only loosely historical. It was the bizarre story of a fictional pioneer girl that married a temporarily reformed jerk to spite her true love pure Mormon boy after he left her to march off with the Mormon Battalion upon assignment from church leaders. The jerk later dumps the girl and she ends up marrying her true love when he returns from his service. Frankly, I wanted to vomit.

Perhaps this book is a poor sampling of the romance genre, since it was written by a guy. However, my neighbor, who was quite a romance aficionado vouched for the book’s quality. So I can only assume that it is somewhat representative of the LDS romance ‘literature’ that is out there.

I am certain that many readily defend the reading of romance novels. It’s just a brief escape. Only a few abusers are addicts. It’s not harming anyone. I can quit anytime I want. And as far as LDS romance novels, they always have a good moral basis. That makes them worth reading, doesn’t it? Sure, and mood altering drugs are always healthy as long as you have a doctor’s prescription. (sarcasm)

The reality is that pornography takes a toll on its users, regardless of whether the content is erotic visual material, blood and gore movies and video games, or emotionally engaging but distorted fiction. What seems like a harmless diversion can quickly snare us in a cycle of addiction and can ruin our ability to function properly in life's most important real relationships.

It is wise to avoid all addictive substances and behaviors. It might be good for church owned retailers to refrain from selling addictive substances, including emotionally addictive fiction. After all, we as a society don’t have much regard for pushers, even if demand for their wares is high.

Help is available for those that are already addicted. But a key ingredient to healing is a firm personal desire to overcome the addiction. This presupposes recognizing that one has a problem that needs to be corrected. Many that enjoy their addictions aren’t at this stage yet.

For those not addicted to any of these things, why start in the first place?

Experiencing Sunday as a Child

2011-05-31T16:42:00.000-06:00

I grew up attending church in my LDS ward in the days before the consolidated meeting schedule. For more than 30 years the Sunday worship habits of Latter-Day Saints have included a three-hour block of meetings for all members. The block is broken into three segments.

A 50-minute segment has separate meetings for children (Primary), Young Women, young men (Aaronic Priesthood), adult women (Relief Society), and adult men (Melchizedek Priesthood). A 40-minute segment includes a continuation of Primary for children under 12 and Sunday School classes for everyone else. The remaining 70-minute segment is Sacrament meeting, where the entire congregation gathers in the chapel to worship together and to partake of the Sacrament of the Lord’s Supper. A 10-minute break separates each segment of the block. Some wards hold Sacrament during the first segment. For others it’s at the end.

When I was a child, the young men and the adult men would arrive at the church to attend priesthood meeting an hour before the rest of the congregation came. Then the whole congregation would gather for Sunday School, which included opening exercises followed by classes. Children under 12 attended “Junior Sunday School.” We’d then go home and return later in the afternoon for a 90-minute Sacrament meeting. (Except on fast Sunday, when Sacrament meeting immediately followed Sunday School.)

The Primary auxiliary met one afternoon each week. Relief Society also met during the week. Young Men and Young Women continue to meet one evening weekly for Mutual.

There are some significant differences between the current consolidated LDS meeting schedule and the split schedule that was used when I was young. For starters, moms used to have to get everyone ready for church twice each Sunday.

Maybe others grew up in families where perfect children quietly stayed in their Sunday best following morning meetings until getting home from Sacrament meeting. But I was one of five boys. We changed out of our Sunday clothes after getting home from Sunday School out of sheer economic necessity. Mom needed to preserve our good clothes as long as possible. Had we stayed in our church clothes between meetings, they likely would have been unfit to wear to the afternoon meeting.

The split schedule also meant that we spent the whole day involved in church meetings. During my formative years, Dad was always serving in some leadership position that required him to attend meetings during the early hours each Sunday morning. He’d be tired enough that he would often get some napping accomplished between morning and afternoon meetings. After a morning of getting kids to and from church, making a lovely Sunday dinner and cleaning up, Mom would also often collapse for much needed rest.

We kids would frequently be shooed outside to provide a little bit of peace for our parents. We’d engage in many activities that I’m certain would be on the “Don’t” list of any lesson about keeping the Sabbath Day holy.

One Sunday between meetings my brother and I ended up down at “the gully,” a water retention basin about a block and a half from our home. There was a lot of new construction going on in that area, so it was a natural draw for curious and adventurous boys. Since our neighborhood was filled with young families, there were lots of boys in a fairly narrow age range in the area. A huge group of these kids had congregated around this huge mud hole that Sunday afternoon.

Excavation had exposed many rocks and left large dirt clods on a ridge overlooking the bog. Seemingly countless boys were standing there doing what almost any boy in such a situation would do—throwing rocks and dirt clods into the water.

I was only about five or six years old, so I didn’t have much of a throwing arm. After being unable to reach the water consistently with my rocks, I noticed my older brother and a couple of other boys down on the mud bank on the other side of the gully. Some of the boys were trying to hit them with dirt clods, but they were out of range.

Taking measure of how close the water was to where my brother was standing, I surmised that I could land my rocks in the bog more easily from that location. I made my way down there and found that I could make splashes with my rocks from there. Of course, being guys, the whole activity soon devolved into a contest of who could make the largest splash.

By this time, most of the boys on top of the opposite ridge were heaving huge rocks or clods into the water, so they didn’t have much range and we were in little danger of being hit. Or so I thought. I heaved up the biggest rock I could carry. But I could see that I’d have to get much closer to the water to successfully make a splash. As I ventured out closer to the water I was suddenly whacked on the head by a rather large rock zooming down from the opposite ridge.

Being a rather young child, I screamed in pain and went wailing home. About halfway between the gully and my home, a kindly neighbor darted out of his house to see if he could help. I was holding my head with a bloody hand. My head hurt like crazy. I was blubbering so incoherently that I couldn’t even tell the man what had happened. He got me home to my folks. Mom kept changing out cold washcloths that she held compressed to my head until the bleeding slowed.

Then it was time to go to Sacrament meeting. Mom deliberated about whether to seek medical attention, but back in those days that would have meant going to the emergency room at the other end of town. Besides, I wasn’t bawling out loud anymore. So we got dressed and went to church. The top of my scalp throbbed the entire time. Although Mom dabbed at it with Kleenex, it kept leaking and making my hair sticky.

My wound eventually healed. If anyone brings up that story even today, Mom will say that she feels badly about not taking me in and getting my head stitched up. If I were balding, a lovely scar would still be apparent. On another Sunday afternoon my brother severely broke his arm while jumping on a large inner tube. That time Mom had to skip Sacrament meeting to get the arm set and casted. Such were our Sunday afternoon escapades in those days.

Since we always had our big Sunday dinner at lunchtime, our family opted for simpler fare for our evening meal. After getting home from Sacrament meeting, Mom would set out sandwich fixings and we’d eat sandwiches, often while watching the Wonderful World of Disney on our old black & white TV.

With all of us seated around a relatively small table, and all reaching for food, the spillage of drinks was a frequent occurrence. A child spilling his milk in this setting could expect an immediate reaction from each parent. Mom would move with lightning speed to get something with which to stanch the flow of fluid before it dripped off the table onto the carpet or seeped through the cracks where the table halves joined the expansion leaves. The offending child would also earn Dad’s renowned stern German discipline.

One Sunday evening, it was Dad that spilled his milk. We children sat pensively, wanting to laugh but knowing that we’d be in for it if we did. As Mom made her well-practiced dash for a dish towel, Dad cast about for anything that might blot the spill before the milk dripped off the table. He could see that the fluid was moving so fast that even Mom’s rapid response wouldn’t be fast enough.

Being a man with a quick analytical mind, Dad grabbed the closest blot-worthy item he could reach—my brother’s sandwich. Using the sandwich as a towel proved to be effective in stopping the spread of the spill. My brother didn’t think this was funny at all. But the whole rest of the family responded with gales of laughter. This was perhaps the funniest thing I ever saw Dad do during his life.

Sundays are different for my kids than they were for me as a kid. My kids usually only have to get dressed for church once. Upon arriving home, we do not require them to stay in their Sunday meeting clothes. They still roughhouse on Sunday. They will often jump on our trampoline, sometimes while fighting with Nerf swords. I know people that consider such displays to be highly irreverent and not in keeping with the Sabbath. But given the nature of children, I think we’re actually doing a pretty good job.

We have carried over a Sunday tradition from my wife’s family. When not in meetings, we reserve Sunday time for family time. Our kids do not hang out with friends on Sundays. I am quick to say that I have no problem with families that choose otherwise. This is just something that we have found to be successful for our family.

We also avoid entertainment that is not at least somewhat worshipful on the Sabbath. If we watch TV, for example, it is limited to worshipful content. We do not watch sports, or secular TV shows or movies on Sunday. We have found this to be useful in helping us try to focus on worship throughout the day.

I guess that, even though Sunday activities are somewhat different for my children than they were for me when I was a child, in many ways they are similar. We attend church together as a family. We try to do things that will help us make the Sabbath a special day each week. Some Sundays are better than others, and I’m sure that some of our activities don’t look very worshipful to others. But at least we make an earnest effort to keep the Sabbath holy.

Our Memorial Day Visits

2011-05-28T17:23:00.000-06:00

I never really had graves of loved ones to visit until just a few years ago. At least not closeby. My maternal grandparents are buried a full day's travel away in a tiny out-of-the-way town in northern Wyoming. My paternal grandparents were buried in Germany.

I say, "were buried" because the common practice in that area is to turn over graves after a while unless families continue to pay fairly exhorbitant 'rent' for the spaces. If Oma's and Opa's graves haven't been turned over yet, they will be before long.

Until fairly recently the nearest grave of a close relative would have required significant travel. So we usually found little motivation to go to a cemetery over Memorial Day weekend.

Then four years ago my Father-In-Law died after a difficult battle with lung cancer. Having served in the Air Force as a young adult, he was interred in the veteran's portion of a local cemetery.

Dad's grave is inauspicious. The headstone is level with the ground. It's not far from the road that loops around and through the rolling green expanse. It's really quite a peaceful and beautiful area. We now make a sojourn to Dad's grave each Memorial Day weekend. The cemetery is festooned with many American flags. Many graves show signs of having been visited.

A little over a year after my Father-In-Law passed away, my Dad died of heart disease. Dad was interred in a cemetery that is only a mile from my home. It is a place I have frequented throughout my life. As a child I walked by or through the cemetery on the way to and from school. In the summer we would walk through the cemetery on our way to and from the community swimming pool.

When my kids were young my main workout was speed walking. We had a two-seat jogger stroller. I'd load up one or two kids and take them on a stroll that included going up and down the roads in the cemetery. Having lived in this area for a while, it is surprising how many names I recognized as we passed grave markers. My kids used to love to see the many rather unique monuments that are scattered throughout the cemetery.

Now I make a habit of stopping by Dad's grave each time I go for a bike ride. The headstone is upright. It sports my parents' names and basic info on the front. On the rear it has the names of their children, a graphic of the Christus statue, a graphic of a set of scriptures, and an engraved quotation of John 17:3; Dad's favorite scripture.

I have a little ritual that I perform when I stop by Dad's grave. Mind you, I am usually riding pretty hard because I am trying to keep my heart rate up. I stop my bike, get off, stand in front of the headstone, remove my helmet, and bow my head. I then don my helmet, re-mount my bike, and am soon on my way.

We always make it to Dad's grave over Memorial Day weekend. Usually we make it there more than once. It has been a tradition to have a family gathering on Memorial Day with some or all of my siblings' families. Usually as we get ready to wrap up the event, we make a quick trip to Dad's grave before everyone heads home. Each year the cemetery staff does a lot of work to beautify the grounds in anticipation of Memorial Day.

When we visit the graves of my Father-In-Law and my Dad, I recognize that the experience is different for each member of my family. Each brings a unique perspective to the visit. It is not really possible to convey to my children what I experience as I stand there, since they didn't share the same relationship with these men that I did. Nor do they have the same level of maturity. I suppose that the important thing is that we make an effort to honor our loved ones that have passed on.

As is the nature of life, the number of nearby graves of loved ones will increase as the years pass. We will do what is needed to visit those graves. I hope that my children will do the same if they are in a position to do so. Who knows where life will lead them and how far away they will end up living?

It has been said that the way a society treats its dead says a lot about its level of humanity and civility. My Dad and my Wife's Dad are gone. But the love I feel for them is not diminished. That is what I will be thinking about as I visit their graves this weekend.

Mind Games and Economic Semantics

2011-05-26T17:06:00.000-06:00

Rationality is a significant principle in economics. It is employed to explain how people make choices. This SmartMoney article highlights Dan Ariely, an expert in behavioral economics that has PhDs in cognitive psychology and business. An accomplished and engaging public speaker, Ariely contends that many choices are made on an irrational rather than a rational basis.

An example of Ariely’s contention of general and predictable irrationality mentioned in the SmartMoney article involves mortgage-backed securities that played such a prominent role in the 2008 housing bubble crash.

“Most people, it turns out, are comfortable with a small amount of cheating; if the incentives are in place, they can bend the rules and still consider themselves "good people." That's one reason Ariely is disappointed but not surprised that high bonuses are back in the financial world. "If I pay people $5 million to view mortgage-backed securities as a good product, most people will believe [those securities] are good," says Ariely.”

If this is a good example of irrationality, it is a poor one. In fact, it looks a lot like cases cited to support rational choice theory.

The common use of the term rationality denotes sanity and fact-based emotionless decision making. This appears to be the way the term is used throughout the SmartMoney article. It would seem that this is how Ariely employs the term.

Rational choice theory, on the other hand, defines rationality as making choices based on which option is likely to produce the greatest return at the lowest cost. It applies in all decisions regardless of whether they involve monetary matters or not. It suggests that people respond to the incentives they perceive—all of the incentives, not just those that translate directly into money.

Paying someone “$5 million to view mortgage-backed securities as a good product” creates a huge incentive to adopt such a view. Rational choice theory says that a person receiving such an opportunity would balance the perceived benefits and costs of accepting that view against the perceived benefits and costs refusing to do so.

Maybe the person considers what his neighbors will think of him or what his God will think of him, as well as how his physical lifestyle will improve. Perhaps, like Tevye singing If I Were a Rich Man, they see their neighbors revering them for their wealth and even increased opportunities for worship and doing good.

One of the main points many economists make with respect to rational choice theory is that no one is better suited to make any choice a person faces than the person themselves. While no one has perfect information regarding any choice, each of us brings a unique understanding of the costs and benefits involved to each decision. It would be impossible for anyone else to fully comprehend the number of factors we consider and the weight we apply to each factor when making a decision. Some of these things are so automatic that we probably couldn’t articulate them all if we wanted to.

Whenever someone purports to demonstrate that people make irrational economic choices, it is almost always because they have indulged in the hubris of assuming to know what is best for others. It can be relatively easy to quantify whether someone spends overall less on a cart of similar groceries at store A than at store B. But to then assert that someone that shops at store B is behaving irrationally is extreme arrogance.

How does the outside observer know all of the factors that go into a shopper’s cost-benefit analysis? Declaring emotion to be irrational makes it far easier to study behavior and to declare it irrational. But the fact is that we are emotional beings. It is absurd to attempt to separate people from one of their core characteristics in the name of science.

In the store A, store B example, might it not be possible that some shoppers are willing to pay more to shop in a store with better lighting, more pleasing décor, or a layout that makes more sense to them? Or maybe it’s a matter of time vs money. They happen to know where things are in store B and their time is more important to them than the savings they would get by going to the unfamiliar store A.

I know people that are deeply religious that choose to shop at a store that is closed on the Sabbath, although, prices are generally higher. I suppose Ariely and his ilk would say that these people are behaving irrationally. But their choices are perfectly rational under rational choice theory. They perceive a greater net benefit from their choices despite the fact that shopping receipts show that they spend more. Spiritual benefits are hard to track through cash register receipts.

In effect, Ariely is simply playing a game of semantics, applying some behavioral economic theories to the common understanding of rationality rather than using the term as employed by most behavioral economists. From the grand living he earns by doing so, it would seem that he is highly incentivized to engage in this deceptive behavior. That too demonstrates rationality.

Me Run for Office? Not Likely

2011-05-23T15:38:00.001-06:00

Two neighbors that I very much respect asked me yesterday to consider running for city council this year. Three of five council seats will be up for election this fall. This isn’t the first time I have been asked to run for public office. There was a time in my life when I somewhat fancied that idea. By the time I arrived at a station of life where it might have seemed possible to seek public office, I had come to abhor the thought.

I have noted that most of my neighbors feel that they have done their civic duty if they vote in the November elections. A few try to vote in primary elections and one-off matters like bond elections. A very tiny minority attend their party’s caucus meetings and only a very few of those attend party conventions.

Many of my neighbors have no idea what the city council is doing unless something out of the ordinary gets reported. Many could not tell you the names of their state representative and state senator. Some aren’t sure who their U.S. representative or senators are. Yet most of these folks consider themselves to be decent, civic minded folks.

Every once in a while people get hot under the collar about some public matter that threatens to affect them in a more personal way. Then they get more politically involved—some temporarily and some more permanently. It is during such civic spasms that I have been approached about running for public office.

The current civic paroxysm is occasioned by the city considering the construction of a public works facility near my neighborhood. About a dozen years ago, descendants of pioneer settlers sold a handsome chunk of farmland to the city after reaching an understanding of how the property would be used.

A small portion of the property would be subdivided. Family members of the sellers would be given opportunities to buy lots up front. The property that was not part of the subdivision was to be maintained as green space. The city could build a park but not a sports venue on the land.

I was concerned when I heard that the actual deed did not include these agreements. Some other type of instrument was supposedly drawn up for that. The subdivision went in, part of the area became a lovely park with an outdoor amphitheater, and the remainder continued to look much as it did at the time of the sale.

Of course, city leadership changes over time. The current leadership sees a large chunk of property owned by the city that might be a decent spot for a new public works campus. City leaders are still licking their wounds from the last attempt to locate a public works facility in a residential area on property the city already owns. They appear to have stepped into a mess again, having been caught unaware of the terms under which the property was acquired.

Current leaders have been conscientious enough to check with those that were in leadership at the time the city bought the property. Former leaders have corroborated residents’ claims that the city agreed to maintain the area as green space.

It may be that the city would be within its actual legal rights to develop a public works facility on the property. But it would engender a great deal of ill will among residents, as well as descendants of original settlers who only agreed to sell the property with the understanding that it would remain green space.

Frankly, I empathize with city leadership. The current public works facility is old. Maintenance costs are rising, the buildings do not meet current seismic code, the city has outgrown the facility, the property footprint isn’t large enough to accommodate an adequately sized new facility, and even if adjacent property were available its characteristics would render it unsuitable for that use.

The city needs a new facility in a new location. Predictably, nobody wants this facility in their neighborhood. The standard not-in-my-backyard (NIMBY) sentiment runs strong for pretty much every location the city has considered.

It’s a sticky wicket. City leaders have been asked why they keep looking mainly at residential locations for the facility instead of considering spots that are already industrial. It turns out that almost all of the available property owned by the city is surrounded by residential communities. The city has been planned as mostly residential. There isn’t much industrial space.

Why can’t the city buy the rundown vacant grocery store for this purpose? Not sure. Maybe it’s too small or too expensive. At any rate, buying property would necessarily cost a lot more than using property already owned by the city.

Costing more is a problem. Voters have recently disciplined leaders that raised taxes instead of trimming budgets. This chastening has been sufficient for city leaders to work harder on being more frugal. I would be surprised if they voted for tax increases or asked voters to support a bond in the near future.

At any rate, some of my neighbors, suddenly concerned about what city leaders are up to, are casting about for alternatives. They should be careful. If they manage to elect new leaders, how sure can they be that the new leaders will be an improvement over the old?

I am personally acquainted with the mayor and three of the five city council members. I must admit that some of their choices upset me. But all of these people are upstanding individuals that earnestly try to do what they believe to be in the city’s best interest.

Besides, I cannot honestly say that I could or would do any better than they do. One of my neighbors suggests that this realization is “humility” and would be an asset in city leadership. Sounds like flattery to me.

I know myself to be a pleaser. I like to think that I have integrity, but I also know that I readily respond to the incentives inherent in whatever situation I find myself. I try to keep myself out of situations where my integrity might be compromised. Politics deals in shades of gray. No matter what you do you are bound to have people upset with you. You’ve got to have a thick hide in politics. I’m not sure I am (or even want to be) that resilient.

It has long been my philosophy that one can do his or her civic duty in many ways other than serving in public office. I believe that being a functional father and serving in the Boy Scouts are viable ways of strengthening the community.

Seeking public office also means campaigning. Campaigning costs money. It means unabashedly asking people to give you money and offering them a good reason for doing so. It means a lot of hard work. Getting elected usually requires a passion for the job. I harbor no such internal fire for political position.

As I mentioned earlier, I presently loathe the thought of being a politician. I once kind of liked the idea of having the honors that accrue with such positions. Now the thought of such accolades creeps me out. I have little desire to have the thrill of exercising control over others.

While some may say that we need people in public office with such characteristics of political modesty, I’m not so sure. Would you go to a doctor that detests being a doctor? Would you want to send your child to a teacher that hates teaching? Would you hire a receptionist that finds interfacing with the public abhorrent?

We live in a society where people specialize in pursuits. The more specialized and the more proficient they become, the more they are sought after and compensated. While it is wise to be wary of anyone that has avarice for power over others, the fact is that we tend to seek to fill positions with people that are good at performing those jobs. It doesn’t matter whether it’s a server at a restaurant, a mechanic, a clerk, a farm worker, a network engineer, a manager, a bus driver, or a politician. As the ‘hiring managers’ for elected officials, voters are unlikely to select someone that doesn’t really want the job.

Even with three city council seats up for election, the incumbent factor must be considered as well. Over the years I have noted that it isn’t enough to advertise how good someone will be at serving on the city council if the incumbent is running for re-election. Unless the voters are dissatisfied with the incumbent for some reason, the newcomer won’t be elected even if he/she is the most qualified candidate ever.

I’m not sure whether any of the three incumbents are running this fall (although I suspect all are), but none of them has done anything that would cause voters to oust them. Unless there is an open seat, I would see no purpose in trying to beat an incumbent with which voters are not displeased.

The main point is that I have no desire to run for political office. (In fact, I have anti-desire to do so.) I do not believe myself to be potentially any better at managing the city than the current crop of leaders. I lack the energy and drive necessary to be elected. I am completely unwilling to put in the kind of time and effort needed to mount a serious campaign.

I am flattered that some of my neighbors think that I might be a good elected official. But it simply isn’t reality.

Tribute to My Mom

2011-05-21T19:52:00.002-06:00

Mothers Day was two weeks ago. Ever since then I have been thinking about my Mom. I have intended to write something about her, but one thing after another has delayed my writing.

I saw very few pictures from my Mom’s childhood when I was young. Then a few years ago, her brother, who had spent his career as a photographer, found a few family photos from the old days. He cleaned them up, reproduced them, and sent them out to family.

When Mom looked at the black and white photos of the family on the porch of the old homestead, she said that she didn’t remember the clan and the place looking so rundown. She said, “It looks like the Grapes of Wrath.” Dad looked at the photos and said, “That’s because it IS the Grapes of Wrath!”

Mom was born in a small town in the rural Midwest during the hardscrabble years of the Great Depression. She was second to the youngest of her parents’ large brood. Like everyone else in the area, my grandparents were farmers. Also like their neighbors, they fell on very hard times during the depression.

Grandma was a member of the Reorganized Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. Her sister sent her a letter saying that she had joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints and was going to send missionaries to teach my Grandma. Grandma responded that if the missionaries came, she would prove them wrong.

The missionaries showed up during harvest season. During the day they went out and worked long hard hours helping Grandpa with the farm work. In the evening after dinner they taught the family the gospel. Grandma soon changed her mind and joined the LDS Church along with some of the older children. From that moment on, Grandma was a stalwart member.

Mom was a young girl when the family left the Midwest and moved to a tiny town way up near the northern border of central Wyoming. They were attracted by the oil field jobs in the area, since it had become so difficult to make a living farming. They still had a farm, but Grandpa spent the rest of his working years doing hard manual labor in the oil fields.

Mom was baptized a member of the LDS Church in northern Wyoming. Her Dad had been baptized a few years earlier. But Grandpa was never a serious churchgoing type. And he never gave up his tobacco.

One of my older cousins relates that he and a couple of our other cousins were pretty young boys when Grandpa caught them trying out cigarettes behind the barn one day. He said that it was the only time he ever saw Grandpa get really angry. Through strong words and corporal punishment he tried to impress on the boys how addictive tobacco was. He wanted to give up the dirty habit, he said, but he just couldn’t.

The only pictures I ever saw of my Grandpa until I was an adult were of him emaciated and dying of cancer incident to his tobacco addiction. He passed away while my Mom was pregnant with me.

Grandma did an astonishing amount of family history research from her outpost in rural Wyoming with very limited resources (in the days before computers). Once a year she would make an excursion to the Salt Lake Temple to do ordinance work for her kindred dead.

When Mom was a teenager she spent a year living with her brother’s family in California. She cared for the young children while her brother and sister-in-law worked. On one occasion they drove to Utah to attend the LDS Church’s general conference. They had to drive through Ogden to get to Salt Lake. Even living so far away from the area, they knew the seedy reputation of Ogden’s 25th Street. Mom said she felt unclean just passing through the town. Little did she know that she would one day live in Ogden.

Back at home, Mom worked in the local pharmacy after school and on Saturdays. Like most small town pharmacies, the place featured a soda fountain and hand dipped ice cream. During football season, the local high school games would end almost at the same time that the pharmacy was supposed to close. Mom said that the manager would try to keep the place open longer to catch the stream of people leaving the nearby football field. The girls that worked at the pharmacy, on the other hand, would try to make sure the place closed right on time so that they didn’t have to wait on the crowds.

Mom went to work one balmy afternoon wearing a light jacket. Then a severe winter storm blew in while she was at work. She lived several miles from town. Around closing time, her little brother showed up on his bicycle. Apparently Grandpa was still at work in the oil fields with the family’s only car. But Mom couldn’t ride on the bike with her brother. So she walked home with inadequate footwear and outerwear. She said she has never been so cold in her whole life.

After graduating high school, Mom took a trip to visit some friends that were living in Salt Lake City. While she was there, she ended up getting a job with a small CPA firm. Later she took a typist job at the LDS Church Administration Building. Back in those days, all businesses employed typists because every document had to be created from scratch. Large organizations had armies of typists.

One day Mom was sitting in the cafeteria alone during break time when Gordon B. Hinckley walked in. He was not a general authority at the time, but was the top employee in the church’s missionary department. He walked over to my Mom and said that he felt impressed to ask her if she had considered serving a mission for the church.

Mom replied that she had considered a mission, but that the church only let “old maids” serve missions. The policy at the time required young women to be at least 23 years old to serve. When Brother Hinckley asked Mom’s age, she responded that she would turn 21 in a couple of weeks. He said that the church policy was changing to allow 21-year-old women to serve missions. He suggested that she go to her bishop and apply to serve a mission. She followed this counsel and was called to serve in Germany.

Mom travelled to Germany by ship. All missionary language training occurred on the job back in those days. The first German word Mom heard after disembarking was somebody saying, “Achtung!” (Attention!) over a loud speaker. She thought some guy was clearing his throat in the microphone.

Over the next two years Mom served in various places, including Berlin and Hamburg. Back in those days young men served 2½ years and young women served two years.

While Mom was serving in Hamburg, she and her companion were at the local church building one evening when a young German man entered and asked to know more about the church. He had been contacted by LDS missionaries while visiting his parents out on the northwest coast of Germany. He had read everything the missionaries had given him and wanted to know more.

The first meeting with this young German wasn’t very productive. They knelt and prayed to start off. He asked all kinds of deep philosophical questions which the missionaries couldn’t address very well. But he agreed to another meeting.

As they began the second meeting with the young German man, they again knelt to pray. Then my Mom’s missionary companion informed the young man that it was his turn to offer the prayer. Although he felt odd about that, he began to pray and experienced a sensation of divine love so profound and all encompassing that he had difficulty saying much. From that moment on, the man was converted.

Mom grew quite close with this young man. Eventually Mom’s mission wrapped up and she returned to the States. The young man joined the church and continued to correspond with Mom. After a few months, the young man succeeded in arranging passage to America and getting a work visa. A kind couple in Colorado that didn’t know him at all sponsored him. They agreed to financially care for him for five years if he failed to care for himself. Mom moved in with her sister who lived in a nearby town.

Over the next few months, the couple courted. When Dad had been a member of the church for a year, Mom and Dad traveled to Salt Lake City and were sealed in the Salt Lake Temple. They then traveled up to northern Wyoming to visit Mom’s parents. Dad was stunned by how many hours they could drive seeing only what looked to him like desolation.

Dad was further stunned upon meeting his new in-laws. Their home was pretty rustic. Dad said that it was little more than a tar papered shack and that their “farm” was a tiny rundown affair. As far as he knew, nobody in Germany had lived like that for more than three centuries by that time. How could anyone in the world’s wealthiest nation live like that? He wondered what he had gotten himself into.

Mom and Dad soon settled into life in Colorado, where their first apartment was small and old. The bathroom was a converted closet that was so tiny that “you had to decide what you were doing before going in.” Eventually they moved to a larger apartment. During their five years in Colorado they welcomed three sons to the family.

Then Dad got a job in Ogden, Utah, so they moved. After a year of living in an apartment in the inner city, Mom and Dad moved into a starter home in a new development. They soon welcomed another son to the family. The fifth son—my caboose brother—didn’t arrive until some 14 years after that.

The new neighborhood was a joyous place filled with many young families and hoards of kids. About three years after moving in, Mom and Dad began to desire to visit Dad’s family in Germany. Contact with the family was minimal, mostly by mail. Overseas phone calls were frightfully expensive back then. But they needed more money to afford to travel to Germany.

The IRS was opening a new service center in Ogden, so Mom applied for seasonal shift work as a keypunch operator. During tax season, Mom would spend evenings punching taxpayer information into computer cards. I hated those times. I’d come home from school and Mom would leave for work. Dad would get home later after Mom left.

But Mom’s work paid off. After three years she and Dad traveled to Germany for a month. Gracious families in the neighborhood took care of us boys during the weeks that Mom and Dad were away.

Mom needed to work the next season to help defray some expenses. Without being asked, Mom was transferred to the human resources department as a clerk, where the work was not seasonal. Eventually Mom was working day shift. Later she transitioned to the job of personnel specialist and made a career of working at IRS.

Throughout those years, life was crazy with kids, school, activities, and church callings. Mom served in many church callings. Whenever Mom undertook to serve, she did so wholeheartedly. Whether she was a Cub Scout den leader, a Relief Society president, a Sunday School teacher, or anything else, Mom served with deep dedication and devoted energy. If Mom’s essence could be distilled into a single word, that word would be “service.”

When my younger brother was 13 years old, Mom and Dad gathered us around the kitchen table one Saturday morning and explained that Mom was four months pregnant. We were shocked. But a few months later we found ourselves very welcoming of our new baby brother.

As grandkids started to come on board, Mom tried to treat each one with special care, all while juggling her own affairs, working, and raising my little brother. Dad retired relatively young and then went to work doing electrical engineering work on a contract basis. Mom continued to work at IRS.

When Dad was called to be a stake patriarch, Mom became his stenographer. Dad recorded the blessings as he gave them. Mom would carefully listen to the tapes and type up the blessings; more than 750 of them over time. Although Dad’s command of the English language significantly exceeded that of most natural born Americans, Dad was always frustrated that he couldn’t say in regular English the ideas that the Spirit conveyed to him while giving blessings. Mom helped compensate for this by helping Dad refine the language of each blessing until he was ready to deliver the printed copy.

Eventually Mom retired from the IRS. Dad finally retired from work at that time too. A few years later, they went back to their old stomping grounds in Hamburg Germany as missionaries for the LDS Church.

A few years after returning from their mission, Dad suffered a stroke. His heart was in bad shape from having failed to get proper treatment for several heart attacks. After Dad’s stroke, he couldn’t think quite the same. Although he was mentally functional in some aspects, he was incapable of thinking his way through some daily tasks that had been his domain for many years.

Getting Dad’s medications balanced was nightmarish. But Mom persisted. After Dad’s stroke, he frequently suffered psychological trauma at night. Nights could be terrible for Mom as the caregiver, but month after month she persisted in caring for Dad. It wasn't just nighttime either. Dad's episodes of impaired mental clarity and physical impairment caused incredible amounts of stress for Mom, whose 24x7 job became caring for Dad.

Dad’s heart was dying bit by bit. The doctors had told us how it would go, and it pretty much followed that path. As the heart became less efficient, Dad became less able to function both physically and mentally.

Dad had another stroke about a week and a half before he passed away. This time his body and his psychological state were so dysfunctional that Mom simply couldn’t care for him at home any more. He was admitted to the hospital, where he declined day after day until he passed away. Mom stayed steadfastly by his side until the very last.

Mom has been busy in the years since Dad passed on. You guessed it, she’s been busy serving. Not only does Mom do church callings, she busies herself serving neighbors, friends, and family.

Mom has been a wonderful example of service, devotion, and work throughout the years. She has been persistently strong and valiant in her testimony of Christ. She not only sees the needs of others; she actively tries to do something about it. Every day.

That’s my Mom. One of the choicest people I know. I have no idea what I did to be so blessed to have her for my Mom.

Pets

2011-05-11T19:26:00.000-06:00

We're not pet people. That is, we don't generally own pets. This has consternated my kids from time to time. But I have my reasons.

Years ago I saw a study that reported that people with Multiple Sclerosis (like me) tend to experience greater problems with the disease if they have fur bearing pets that live in their home. On the other hand, people with M.S. that have pets tended to report better emotional wellbeing than those that don't have pets.

I figured that I'd rather be better off physically, so I opted for the no pet approach — or at least no fur bearing pets. Of course, like every other study, this is a single data point that should be considered in a larger array of data to form a more objective picture.

Truth be told, I just don't want to own a pet. I'm frankly not certain why that is. I loved the pets we owned throughout my childhood. We briefly owned a small black poodle that my mother had gotten from a lady with whom she worked after the lady's poodle had a litter. We called our poodle Cinder.

We loved Cinder, but Mom and Dad were both working full time in those days. All of us kids were gone to school all day. We didn't have a fully fenced backyard. So Cinder stayed cooped up in the house for many hours each day with nothing to do and nowhere to ... uh ... go.

Finally, in the interest of being humane to the dog and keeping our basement free of pet excrement, we gave Cinder away to a family that could provide her a better environment. I think I cried myself to sleep every night for more than a month after that.

A few years later a little mutt followed my brother home, although, he tried repeatedly to get the dog to go home. She stayed around our house, so we felt that it was our duty to feed her and give her water. After three days we discovered who the owner was. My younger brother was heartbroken when we returned the puppy.

The owner explained that the puppy was part of a litter that was going to have their shots within a week. If we were interested, we could buy the dog for the price of the veterinarian visit. My younger brother got Poochie for his birthday. She soon became part of the family.

13 years later, Poochie was suffering from a heart condition that caused her a great deal of pain. We had a neighbor that was a veterinarian that gave us medicine. He explained that if the medication didn't help within 48 hours, no treatment would help.

The medicine didn't work for Poochie. One night after she spent the whole night walking around the yard coughing and in obvious intense pain, we held a family council. We decided it was humane to put Poochie down. I was the only family member that had both the time and the fortitude to take her to the vet to have her euthanized. It was a difficult chore. My Mom, who didn't particularly care for the dog, cried.

Poochie was the last pet I had until my oldest son brought a goldfish home from school when he was in fourth grade. Over the next few years we went through several episodes of owning fish. Most died quickly. If the fish lived long enough, the story was always the same. The same children that had begged and pleaded for a pet, promising to be ever vigilant in caring for the critter, would prove to be reliably unreliable in cleaning the aquarium.

We actually had one fish that lived quite a while. It started out as one of a whole passel of goldfish. Eventually it was the only one left alive and it was over half a foot long. When nobody in the family was willing to care for the fish any longer, we gave it to a local pet store.

A number of years went by before we obtained our next pet. That was just a month and a half ago when my youngest son received a tree frog for his birthday, along with a good terrarium and all of the necessary supplies. This only came about after many months of pleading and painstaking research.

My son was tremendously proud of his little frog, which he dubbed 'Stickers' due to the way the frog could stick to the surfaces of the terrarium. For the most part, my son was pretty careful about caring for the animal — sometimes only after we reminded him of his duty. The terrarium was kept in the proper temperature and humidity range. The water was changed on schedule. The frog received the best diet possible.

Then yesterday evening we found Stickers lying feet up in the soil-like material on the bottom of the terrarium. My son was completely broken up over this loss. He cried that he wasn't worthy to own a pet. I did my best to explain the circle of life and the inevitability of each pet's demise. Only prayer and blessing seemed to comfort my mourning son.

At my son's request, Stickers was left in the terrarium overnight. Today my wife found a small box just the right size for Stickers. My son forbade us from flushing or trashing the frog's remains. Rather, we buried Stickers in his little cardboard coffin in an ornamental bed in the front yard. My young son actually got his much older brother to play Taps on his trumpet prior to putting the dirt back into the grave.

My son then fashioned a cross out of two popsicle sticks. He wrote "RIP Stickers" on the tiny cross and placed it on his frog's grave. I get the feeling that, although my son has known Stickers for only a few weeks, he will long remember his first real pet.

School Discipline

2011-04-26T20:35:00.001-06:00

I clearly remember the first time I was sent to the principal's office. I was in third grade. Our grade was spending the afternoon in the school cafeteria doing square dancing for physical education. Like almost all of the boys, I found the activity less than pleasant — especially when we had to join hands with the girls at our sides. Yuck!

Whenever we had to circle or promenade, the boy across the square from me would run. This caused some problems with dance, and that is exactly why he did it. This boy was a frequent mischief maker. But dance after dance he got away with his shenanigans.

From my viewpoint, it looked like the boy was having great fun. Other boys and even some of the girls were laughing about it. Although I knew it wasn't kosher, I thought I'd give it a try too. The next time we were to circle, I ran rather than trying to keep time with the music. So did the other boy. By this time the joke was old, so fewer classmates chuckled.

Suddenly I felt a hand firmly grip my shoulder. I turned to see a seriously angry teacher. She was actually a small woman, although, at age eight she looked pretty big to me. She marched me unceremoniously out of the cafeteria as my classmates gaped. I was taken to the principal's office. The principal wasn't there, so the teacher pulled a chair into the doorway of the office and made me sit down. She said that I was not to move from that chair until she returned for me.

I knew that I deserved the treatment I was getting. I was upset with myself for following the example set by one of our grade's most notoriously obnoxious members. It chagrined me that he had gotten away with the same behavior multiple times, while I was punished on the first offense. Still, a part of me secretly admired this feat.

As it turned out, this episode occurred quite close to the end of the school day. Soon the bell rang and hundreds of students streamed past the school office. Most gawked at me. Some wondered aloud what nasty thing I must have done. The teacher had purposefully set the chair so that I would be publicly humiliated. I have to admit that it was a pretty effective tactic. I had tears streaming down my embarrassed face.

I was glad when the school grew quieter because there were no more students to ridicule me. For a while I could hear lots of noise from outside the building. But gradually even that noise faded. I sat in the chair for a total of about 40 minutes. For an eight-year-old with nothing to do, that's like an eternity. The hands on the clock seemed to move ever so slowly.

Finally I heard the footsteps of someone approaching the office. It was the cross teacher. She told me to come with her. I wondered what new forms of torture awaited me. But she simply escorted me back to the classroom, had me get my stuff, and told me to go home. I was glad to get out of there, but I was still crying as I raced home on my bicycle.

I never went to the principal's office for discipline again during my school years.

I'm still not sure what was going through that teacher's mind that day. Although students might not believe it, teachers are human too. They are perfectly capable of having a bad day once in a while.

Obviously it is necessary to maintain some level of decorum in school settings in order to facilitate learning. Especially in this day and age it is difficult to know precisely how far educators should be permitted to go in pursuit of this goal.

One of the schools I attended had a large whacking board hanging on the wall of the office emblazoned with the phrase "BOARD OF EDUCATION!" I never saw it used. The threat of its use was enough.

When I was in junior high school, I was once sent on an errand by a teacher during class. As I came near the school office, I could see the gruff assistant principal harshly yelling at a boy that was one of the school's main screw-ups. Not only was the man yelling, he was kicking the boy in the butt over and over again. Hard!

Just then one of the larger male teachers brought another boy who was a frequent participant in the first boy's escapades. The assistant principal was wearing square toed dress shoes. He turned to the second boy and yelled, "I'm going to ask you some questions and you had better answer me straight!" Lifting his kicking foot, he said, "You see the toe of this shoe? It was pointed when I started!" I could see serious fear in the boy's eyes before I turned the corner.

This kind of behavior by an educator would not be tolerated today. It could even result in jail time.

There have in recent weeks been several news stories about educators that are accused of going too far in disciplining a student. In some cases parents have sided with the educators. People have gotten on radio shows and written on websites stuff like, "Why, when I was a youth, if a teacher had to whack me at school, I got whacked much harder when I got home."

Positive incentives are to be preferred over disincentives such as punishment. But punishment must exist as well, since not all disruptive behaviors are prevented through positive means. The question is exactly what is permissible and what isn't.

Frankly I believe that it is not possible to precisely codify what educators may do to punish unacceptable behavior. It probably isn't even desirable to do so. What is permissible is necessarily governed by community standards and general school culture. Certain lines may be drawn. Indeed, some lines should never be crossed.

But the more refined rules regarding punishment become, the less flexibility educators have. Knowing that they could easily step over one of the myriad rules, they are more likely to refrain from punishment at all. School districts that have gone this route often have a very high level of dysfunction. The inmates run the asylum. Teachers in these battle hardened schools just try to make it through the day so that they can collect their pay and go home. Any learning that occurs is a luxury.

I'm not calling for a return to the day when it seemed appropriate for an assistant principle to kick a kid in the butt hard enough to cause bruising. The older I get the less I am convinced that abusive treatment accomplishes much good. Still, it is good for students to learn that in the real world there are harsh consequences for harsh behavior.

Pretty mealy-mouthed stuff, eh? I'm afraid that real life is like that sometimes. We rarely have clarity in developing approaches to solving our most serious issues. It's the nature of life. It's a good thing that some educators are willing to accept this hard work. Perhaps learning this kind of thing from a teacher's example is as valuable as the academic learning a student will get during his/her school years.

Faith of My Father

2011-04-22T22:31:00.001-06:00

As a kid, my Dad was one of the most devout people I personally knew. He had rock solid faith in the gospel of Jesus Christ. I was well into my adult years before I fully understood the journey that had brought him to that point.

Dad grew up in a nonreligious family in Germany during the 1930s and 1940s. As the Nazi regime gained control of the country, school teachers and administrators were replaced with Nazi loyalists who taught the children a mixture of nationalism and rationalism.

Dad had no reason to consider religion to be a reasonable approach to life. He had no religious friends. Most of the people he knew thought of religion as a quaint tradition and thought that anybody that took religion seriously had to be deluded or crazy.

But Dad was also very analytical. Studying electrical work, he was used to being able to drive to something that was true. Electrical theories could be tested and proven. The whole war made no sense to him. His analytical mind saw a lot of people doggedly pursuing things that were obviously not true.

After World War II as Dad progressed into young adulthood, he took a very philosophical approach to life. All of his companions drank, smoked, and caroused. These obviously self destructive activities seemed stupid to Dad. He could not bring himself to participate in them from a rational standpoint.

Once Dad was doing a job for a private telecommunications firm installing a complex system in a building that housed several businesses. One of the largest was a tobacco wholesaling company. Seeing how hard Dad worked, one of the bosses offered Dad a job that dealt with the firm's transportation logistics. Dad would have immediately more than tripled his salary. Dad felt that taking such a job would be hypocritical. He could not accept the job and be true to himself, so he continued being an electrician.

During this whole time, Dad searched for philosophical truths wherever they could be found. He took opportunities to study from learned professors and to explore the works of the great philosophers. The more he studied these, the more he felt that all of these missed the mark. They had a semblance of truth but they always veered off before hitting on real truths.

Dad left no stone unturned in his search for truth. He began studying religion, delving deeply into all major religions and even many non-mainstream religions. It became one of his hobbies. He compared and contrasted all kinds of philosophies.

One one occasion Dad had an opportunity to meet with one of the top priests in Germany. He thought that this man surely must know the truth. They had a very frank discussion. Dad was quite disappointed to discover that this high ranking church man had little certainty about his beliefs. At least the man was honest about that fact.

While visiting his parents one weekend, Dad met and was taught by two missionaries from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. They spoke poor German and wore ill fitting suits. But they caught Dad's attention when he discovered that they were spending 2½ years (missions were longer in those days) preaching the gospel with no pay. In fact, they were paying their own way. Dad had never heard of such a thing.

The missionaries told of the origins of the LDS Church. Dad listened curiously. When they told of Joseph Smith's first vision of Deity, Dad thought of the similarities this story had with other descriptions throughout history of mortals experiencing encounters with God.

Then one of the missionaries bore witness of the truth of Joseph Smith's testimony. Dad experienced a feeling he had never had before. He didn't know for himself, but he knew that the missionary knew that what he was saying was absolutely true. Dad could not deny it.

A few weeks later Dad met with LDS missionaries in the city where he was living. He had read everything the missionaries had given him and he wanted to know more about what he had felt that day. The missionaries opened with prayer. Dad found this meeting somewhat less satisfying because he had an agenda to get certain deep philosophical questions answered while the missionaries had an agenda to teach a set lesson plan. But Dad agreed to another meeting.

When the time came to start this next meeting, the missionaries invited Dad to kneel with them to pray. One missionary then turned to Dad and informed him that it was his turn to pray. Dad had never prayed in his life. If God existed at all, Dad could only imagine a non-personal entity. He couldn't imagine a God that was intimately interested in the lives of each person on the earth. He had seen too much evil and carnage in his life to think that such a being could exist.

Dad was a bit flustered, but not wanting to offend the missionaries, he decided to give a short prayer. He opened his mouth to speak, but before the first word escaped his lips he was overcome with the most intense outpouring of love he had ever experienced. He was suddenly aware of the presence of God; not some imaginary being, but an all powerful Divine parent that very personally loved him and wanted the very best for him.

Through his tears Dad finished his brief prayer and the missionaries gave their lesson. But the words of the lesson were nothing compared to the relationship with God that Dad had suddenly discovered. Knowing that God listened to his prayers, Dad prayed almost constantly over the following days. He prayed silently when he was out and about. He prayed aloud in his apartment.

Visionary gifts run in Dad's line. He had many experiences that many believers would love to have and that some nonbelievers chalk up to mental problems. For example, scriptures were hard to come by in Germany in those days. Not having access to his own set of scriptures, Dad saw them in vision.

Upon retiring to his bed at night, something akin to a computer screen would appear before his eyes. The scriptures would appear on the screen in German and would scroll up the screen for hours. This went on night after night until Dad knew the scriptures very well even before he owned a printed set.

Although Dad had a tremendous spiritual conversion to the LDS Church, he did not experience a social conversion. He had to admit that most of the church members he encountered were seriously odd and flawed people. While Dad felt alive in Christ, many church members went about their church activities with seemingly little attention to having a vibrant relationship with God.

When Dad came to the states, he encountered people in the church that he said would have made great Nazis. That creeped him out. But Dad was completely certain about the truths that had been revealed to him and he knew that he could not deny those truths. This approach became the hallmark of Dad's life. It became Dad's identity.

That is the kind of father I grew up with. No matter what questions and perplexities I faced in my younger days with respect to the gospel and the church, I knew with absolute certainty that Dad knew that the gospel was true. Over time I came to know gospel truths for myself. But I would be ungrateful if I did not acknowledge how much Dad's witness influenced me. His faith was strong enough to keep me upright. For that I will be forever grateful.

GA Visits During My Mission

2011-04-10T20:41:00.000-06:00

Years ago I spent two years serving as a missionary for the LDS Church in Norway. During my time there I had occasion to meet several of the church's general authorities. Each of these occasions has left certain notable memories in my mind.

The first of these occasions was when Elder Dean L. Larsen of the First Quorum of the Seventy visited for stake conference in Oslo. Following the weekend's meetings, Elder Larsen had a couple of hours to burn on Monday before catching his flight home. He could have done a little sightseeing around Oslo. He could have rested. Instead he asked my mission president to assemble the mission office staff for a personal training session. I happened to be a member of that staff.

The first thing that impressed me about Elder Larsen was that he took time to sit down with half a dozen young missionaries instead of tending to personal matters. The second thing that impressed me was that he was wearing exactly the same kind of Swedish double-knit suit that I was wearing. He was well groomed and well kempt, but his suit, shirt, tie, socks, and shoes were about the same cost and quality of the clothes the young missionaries were wearing.

Elder Larsen spoke to us for a few minutes about being more effective missionaries. I remember him telling a story about becoming a shot put champion in high school by taking a chance and doing what he felt was right instead of following the pattern that everyone said was the best method. Then Elder Larsen told us to ask him questions—any question at all.

At first we stammered around. None of us could think of anything to ask. He prodded us until we began asking questions. His answers were kind, often coming from the scriptures. Occasionally he replied that he didn't know. After he left for the airport, it dawned on me that none of us had asked anything bizarre or inappropriate.

On one occasion Elder Howard W. Hunter, then a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles came by the mission office with his sister. They were on their way to a conference elsewhere in Scandinavia and had stopped to visit one of their ancestor's homesteads just outside of Oslo.

Those of us in the office were a bit star struck to see a man walk in whose picture was on the wall of the office. Elder Hunter was very unassuming and low key. He acted as if he were nobody important. He was a man of few words. When we asked how his transatlantic flight had been, he replied merely, "Oh, uneventful."

I had several occasions to interact with Elder Robert D. Hales, then a member of the First Quorum of the Seventy. While I was in Norway he was called to preside over the Europe Area. He subsequently made a number of visits to Norway, where our mission president was a personal friend.

For one of these visits my mission president asked the missionaries in Oslo to put together a talent show for Elder Hales. Since our mission president and Elder Hales had worked together in scouting, the president encouraged us to use a scout campfire approach for our entertainment.

It turns out that 19-21-year-old young men with encouragement of this nature are far sillier (and even raunchier) than anything you see at scout camp. Some of the office staff sang a barbershop song. It really went downhill from there. A few acts pushed up against the edge of propriety. We surged confidently past that point when one elder that had been in a heavy metal band used a butane lighter to shoot a pillar of flame from his mouth in the darkened room.

Several more acts were down right inappropriate. But the kicker came when two elders performed a "magic" act on the mission president, Elder Hales, and the two assistants to the president. They cut off these men's ties, put the severed ties into a bag, and promised to magically restore the damaged neckware. After the third failed attempt, the elders said, "Oops!" and ran offstage.

Everyone laughed, including Elder Hales. But it didn't take a genius to see that behind his smile he wasn't very happy about the evening's entertainment. The next day our mission president revealed to the office staff that Elder Hales had taken him to the woodshed after the event.

On another occasion, I was riding in the mission van with another missionary and Elder Hales as we took him to a meeting across town. The other elder asked how much light one must have received from the Holy Ghost before denying this testimony would turn the person into a son of perdition. Elder Hales replied that he wasn't sure what the official doctrine was on that point, but that he felt that he had had sufficient light since childhood to know that it wouldn't be a good idea to tempt God about it.

At this point, Elder Hales bore his testimony of the Savior Jesus Christ. The elder bluntly asked if he had seen a vision. Elder Hales kind of skirted that question and replied that his testimony of Jesus wasn't based on a single event. Rather, it was a knowledge that had grown brighter and brighter until it was rock solid.

The next time I saw Elder Hales was when he came to speak at the LDS institute of religion adjacent to the college where I was studying. I was slated to be at work at the time of the speech, but a friend asked me to accompany her while she sang at the event, so I rearranged my schedule. I was sporting a full beard at that time, so I thought I wouldn't be recognized. But Elder Hales publicly recognized me as one of "my missionaries." Then I was a bit embarrassed about the beard because returned missionaries had been advised to maintain their mission grooming standards.

Each time I personally interacted with a church general authority during my mission, I and the other missionaries initially regarded these men as superhuman celebrities. Each time, these men showed their humanity and humility. We then knew they weren't superhuman. I later realized that such imaginary assessments were inferior to what these men really were—fallible beings striving to serve God to the best of their abilities ... and with real power from God.

Mormons are Healthier but Fatter

2011-04-08T19:16:00.000-06:00

A series of studies have shown that religious people tend to be more overweight than nonreligious people and that Latter-Day Saints tend to be more overweight than members of other religions. In this Deseret News article author Michael De Groote briefly explores the studies and what they mean.

Researchers have linked the sense of wellbeing that accompanies religious devotion with being satisfied with one's body. De Groote writes, "In other words, religious people feel so good about themselves that they don't notice the fat as much."

Most religions promote a somewhat healthier lifestyle than is common in the broader culture. Some religions have rather austere health codes. Latter-Day Saints in good standing adhere to proscriptions on tobacco, alcohol, tea, coffee, and drug misuse embodied in the Word of Wisdom as defined in the church's scriptures and teachings of its leaders. When a church member is asked if he/she lives the Word of Wisdom, most Latter-Day Saints interpret this to embody only the prohibitions mentioned above.

However, the actual Word of Wisdom in D&C 89 includes a lot of do's along with the don'ts. For example, all food and drink is to be "used with prudence and thanksgiving" (v11), meat should be used "sparingly" and under certain conditions (v11-13,15), and herbs, grains, fruits and vegetables are "good for the food of man" when used properly (v11,14,16,17).

The reality today is that failing to adhere to the WoW's do's will not keep a church member from holding a leadership calling or entering the Temple, while violation of the don'ts will. In essence, church members can be gluttons and/or eat a generally awful diet without being though of as unworthy. But using tobacco, tea, coffee and alcohol, and misuse of drugs are among the activities that make members unworthy.

LDS culture has a deep relationship with food. We use food for recreation. Refreshments heavily laden with fat and refined sugars are regularly served at church activities. We share recipes for creative treats. We use food for comfort. We serve decadent funeral potatoes and other unhealthy delicacies at funeral luncheons. We specialize in taking in meals to families dealing with illness or tragedy.

Is it any wonder that many rank and file Latter-Day Saints have an emotional relationship with food outside of church settings?

We also tend to seek to be emulate others with whom we spend time. The more time we spend in church and social settings with overweight people, the more likely we are to become overweight ourselves. It is a cultural effect.

Despite being more overweight than their nonreligious counterparts, Latter-Day Saints tend to live longer and healthier lives (see 4/13/2010 Deseret News article). In fact, practicing Latter-Day Saints live longer than any generally long-lived ethnic group (i.e. Japanese and Swedes).

Researchers say that these differences cannot be fully explained by differences in physical activity, diet, and use of harmful substances. There is apparently a psychological component to LDS religious devotion that tends to enhance health and longevity. But this same element may lend to Latter-Day Saints doing a worse job at battling the bulge.

Frankly, it is odd for the members a religion that prides itself on its health guidelines to have such a problem with excess weight. Studies show that waist-to-hip ratio has been used across cultures and time to quickly and subconsciously judge general health. When church members are generally overweight, this sends a contradictory message about LDS health teachings and practices even at a casual glance.

Having been overweight myself, I know how challenging it can be to return to normal weight. Many physical, cultural, and psychological elements are marshaled against achieving such a goal. I can't help but wonder if Latter-Day Saints would better manage their weight if this had as great of focus as the don'ts in the Word of Wisdom.

Still, while I work hard to live the Word of Wisdom to my best understanding and what actually works for me, I believe that it pales in importance to things like developing a positive relationship with God and loving and serving one's fellow beings. LDS health is an interesting subject, but I try not to get too hung up on it.

I Can't Miss You If You Won't Go

2011-04-04T09:46:00.000-06:00

My wife was recently chatting with an elderly woman that lives alone and has no living descendants. The lady explained that she had recently redone her estate planning because the siblings that had been designated to handle her estate's affairs had passed away.

Lacking descendants of her own, the woman had asked a niece and a nephew, children of two different siblings, to accept the positions previously held by their parents. Neither of these people live in the area, but both accepted the invitation.

The nephew and his wife flew in from out of state to visit for a few days. They met the professional people that handle the lady's estate issues and signed the necessary documents. As they visited in the lady's home prior to their departure, the nephew's wife complimented the woman on her taste and specifically noted a number of the woman's belongings that she would love to have in her own home after the woman's passing.

At first the lady was a bit shocked by this discussion. But she shrugged and figured that it was only natural. Besides, it was meant as a compliment.

At a later date, the woman's niece visited, met the estate professionals and signed the paperwork. As they visited in the lady's home, the woman asked her niece if there was anything she saw in the home that she would like to have. After all, designating things like that in advance can help avoid disagreements among the survivors.

The niece looked at her aunt and replied that one thing she would like most in the home is to see her aunt living there comfortably. The 'things' in the home were quite unimportant to the niece compared to her relationship with her aunt.

It is true that none of us gets out of this world alive and that none of us can take any of our temporal belongings with us. It is prudent to prepare for our eventual demise. If you haven't had to deal with the disposition of a deceased loved one's estate, it is likely that you will at some point have that opportunity. It is wise to be prepared.

But the way we perceive the elderly among us is the basis for how we treat them. If we see them as just biding their time until they pass from this world, this will be reflected in our relationship with them. It is unlikely that we will see these individuals the way God sees them.

This is true even if we are the elderly involved. If we are just waiting to die, we will treat ourselves accordingly. We will fail to perceive the immense value that God sees in us (see D&C 18:10).

Sunday School General Presidency Stresses Improved Learning and Teaching

2011-03-31T17:22:00.003-06:00

Last summer when I was called to serve in my stake’s Sunday school presidency, my brother (currently serving in a bishopric) said that he had told his stake president that he’d pay 20% tithing for a “peripheral” calling like that. I replied that the calling’s lower demand nature would be great were it not for my four other (actually five other) callings, one of which is quite demanding.

Each year prior to April general conference, the LDS Church’s Sunday school general presidency holds training sessions for Sunday school leaders at the Conference Center in Salt Lake City. Since I was unable to attend last week’s session due to another commitment, I drove straight to Salt Lake after work last night for the reprisal of that session.

I’m not a guy that likes to have meetings just to have meetings, but I’m pretty faithful in attending meetings that I should be at. It really wasn’t my idea of fun to leave the house at 6 am when most family members were still asleep and not return until 9 pm when the youngest are heading to bed. But the stake presidency asked me to go to the meeting, so I did.

Having attended many church training meetings in my lifetime, I think last night’s event was one of the better ones. Quite frankly, it has been fairly common for me to leave priesthood leadership training meetings feeling beat up, having been told with great boldness the manifold ways we are screwing up. To top it off, the leaders for whom those messages are mostly intended are rarely in attendance at such meetings. (Go figure.) I know I’m not the only one that feels this way about those meetings.

Last night was different. I left the meeting feeling spiritually uplifted with some valuable tools I can use in my calling. The 90-minute meeting was engaging and interesting. The general presidency purposefully, yet skillfully used a variety of communication and teaching methods that kept the attendees involved. This was a departure from the standard two-hour lecture series common to most large leadership meetings.

Well, most of the attendees appeared to be engaged. The brother seated behind me fell asleep and started making funny high-pitched whiny noises until the gentleman next to him woke the man from his nightmare. I’ve heard snoring in meetings plenty of times, but rarely have I heard people talk or make other noises during their meeting time slumber sessions.

The main emphasis of the event was on improving learning and teaching in the church. Learning can take place without a teacher, but teaching cannot take place unless learning occurs. One may go through the actions of teaching without reaching the students. Church leaders and teachers should be the best learners so that they can help others learn.

One of the communication methods used was interactive polling. Each attendee was given an electronic device. The speaker would put a polling question up on the screen and we’d click a button to respond. The responses were immediately calculated before our eyes.

One such question dealt with providing orientation for members that receive new callings. It was clear from the responses that local church leaders need to do much better at this. Orientation sessions should be sit-down affairs that last 15-30 minutes, not something that happens in the hallway.

During the orientation, one or more members of the presidency of the organization in which the member will be serving should provide the member with the resources needed to properly fulfill the calling. For example, when orienting a new Sunday school teacher, members of the ward Sunday school presidency should:

· Provide the class roll, help familiarize the teacher with the class members, and explain any important issues.
· Explain protocol (meeting room, time, classroom procedure, etc). Maybe the meeting could occur in the room where the class will be held.
· Provide the current curriculum. Tell the teacher it’s theirs to keep and mark up. Show the teacher which lesson will be taught next.
· Give the teacher a copy of Teaching, No Greater Call, and go over the section on preparing lessons (chapters 30-35).
· Address any concerns the new teacher has.

One brother asked whether the Sunday school presidency should train all newly called teachers in the ward. The answer was no. Although the ward Sunday school presidency is responsible for all teaching that occurs in the ward (including visiting teaching, home teaching, and family home evenings), they should only orient Sunday school teachers. They can and should invite leaders of other organizations to receive training on how to manage their organization’s teachers, but such invitations should be free of coercion (D&C 121:41-42).

Organization presidencies are also responsible for ongoing teacher support. Among the ideas offered were:

· Visits.
· Group training.
· Individual contact.
· Asking teachers to review specific chapters of Teacher, No Greater Call.
· Asking teachers what the presidency can do to help them.

The general presidency wants church members and leaders to make much greater use of the church’s online resources. One question dealt with how often and why people have accessed the Sunday school website. I thought this was funny because I had been using the site via my phone while waiting for the meeting to start.

We were told to watch for a new teaching website to come online within a few weeks and for a leadership library show up this summer.

Finally, the general presidency wrapped up with each member emphasizing one of Elder Bednar’s three points of gospel learning as described in Sunday School General President Russell T. Osguthorpe’s October 2009 general conference talk:

Teach key doctrine.
Invitation to action.
Bear witness of promised blessings.

All teaching in the church should be both spiritually edifying and doctrinally correct. Sunday school presidencies are responsible for ensuring that proper doctrine is taught in church settings. It was noted that teachers are sometimes so disorganized or vague that it’s not clear what doctrine is being taught. The Spirit has difficulty bearing witness of such insubstantial stuff. And while discussions about peripheral matters can be stimulating, we are to focus on key doctrines in church settings.

Invitation to action on the principles taught is essential to people enacting positive changes in their lives. Failing to do so is like a chef taking people on a tour of a marvelous feast prepared in his kitchen without inviting them to partake. Teachers should not shy away from issuing properly inspired invitations to implement gospel principles. Learning theory is great, but the real value lies in doing.

It was noted that some teachers don’t like promising blessings because they are not priesthood leaders. But teachers aren’t being asked to invent new promises. They are being asked to gain their own witness and then testify of the promises that God has already made through proper channels. People need to understand the positive consequences that will result from their honorable actions. This helps provide motivation to act. It is an essential element of improving lives.

Church teachers and leaders should always be asking themselves how people’s lives will be improved by what they do as they carry out their callings. If it what they are doing won’t improve people’s lives, they’re doing it wrong.

As I left the meeting last night, I was glad I attended, despite the inconvenience. Our presidency now has material to use for the training meeting we are going to lead next month. But more importantly, I left the meeting smiling, feeling spiritually uplifted and empowered to better fulfill my calling.

Wedding Rings

2011-03-28T15:57:00.001-06:00

As a child I marveled at my Dad's wedding ring. It was a simple silver band that was lightly embossed with a very simple weave pattern.

Mom and Dad couldn't afford much when they first married. They lived far from both sets of parents, neither of whom were in a position to provide much support of any kind. Consequently, Mom's wedding ring was a very simple affair.

When I was still a kid, my parents had Mom's wedding ring re-worked. Years later they replaced the ring with something that was still relatively modest, yet far sturdier than the original. Dad's ring stayed the same. Despite Mom's encouragement to upgrade, Dad kept his simple wedding band.

After Dad passed away, I held his wedding band in my hand, feeling its surface that had been worn smooth by more than 50 years of wear. As I turned the ring over, something triggered a memory of the weave pattern that I had seen as a child. The pattern had been completely worn away so many years earlier that I had forgotten that it had ever existed.

Even as I think about this episode, I look at my own wedding band that I remove pretty much only when required for safety. It is a relatively simple gold band whose only notable markings are tiny characters stamped on the inside denoting the gold quality.

My ring is a rather unremarkable piece of jewelry. Yet it means a great deal to me.

The ring was originally half a size larger. In our first two years of marriage, I gained 40 lbs and then lost 60 lbs. To keep the ring from slipping off my finger we had it resized to fit my altered size. The ring has fit just fine ever since.

There are no big nicks in the surface of my ring. I hardly notice the thousands of tiny marks on the surface. The marks can more easily be seen with magnification.

My wife still wears the ring set that I gave her in two stages: the first when we became engaged, and the second when we married. Actually, she returned the engagement ring a week before the wedding so that I could get the two rings permanently welded together by the jeweler prior to the wedding.

We have had some maintenance done on my wife's ring a few times over the years. It is a somewhat delicate looking setting, but it has proven to be fairly durable. I assumed from the moment I acquired the ring that my wife would want to get something different after a few years. But she has been quite happy with her ring set and has shown no desire to upgrade.

Both of us wear our rings nearly always. I think there's some significance to that.

Neither my wife nor I are much into jewelry. The only other jewelry I wear is an old Timex wristwatch. After we were certain that we were finished having children, we got my wife a beautiful mother's ring. The ring is designed to complement her wedding set. She often wears modest earrings. Occasionally she will wear a non-valuable necklace of some sort when she dresses up. A burglar looking for jewelry in our home would leave with almost nothing of worth.

During the last few years of Dad's life, we were sometimes alarmed at how verbally brusque he was with Mom. This tendency was further complicated after a stroke, when he wasn't able to reason as clearly as before. Despite all of this, I knew that Dad was eternally devoted to Mom. Like his worn wedding band, Dad's devotion was constant.

Mom has a nasty arthritis condition in her hands. A few years ago she had a hinge installed on her wedding ring so that she could get it on and off without having to slip it over enlarged finger joints. Although Dad passed away nearly three years ago, Mom still wears her wedding ring because she still has a husband waiting for her on the other side of the veil.

As I consider my wedding band and my wife's wedding set, I realize that they really aren't worth much in money. That is, both are modest pieces of jewelry. But it's not the monetary value that is important. The real value in our rings far exceeds any earthly possession. In fact, the rings are only a poor symbol of this deeper meaning. But since they are symbols of something far greater, we will continue to wear and cherish our wedding rings.

I hope that someday after my passing my children will be able to hold my simple wedding band and reflect on how devoted I was to their mother. It would bring me great joy if that moment conjured in them happy memories.

Prom Skanks

2011-03-21T18:18:00.000-06:00

My wife was beside herself a few weeks prior to the high school's prom. Our high school senior son simply refused to go to the dance. Unlike his father was back in high school, my son is very popular. He could easily get a date with just about any girl at his school that isn't going steady with someone. He helped friends ask girls to the prom, but he turned his friends down when they tried to get him to ask a girl.

My wife did everything she could think of to cajole (and even bribe) our son into going to the prom. She conspired with his friends behind his back. She worked up ways for him to ask girls that he liked. One day my son came into my room and asked if I could get his mother to ease off about prom. He said that he simply wasn't interested in going. Citing the costs involved in attending a formal dance, he said that he didn't want to waste that kind of money on a one-time dating event. This particular social aspect of high school just didn't mean as much to him as it meant to my wife.

My wife is a wonderful mom. She really wants the best for her kids. But, having herself been a high school girl, her interest in getting my son to attend prom also had something to do with her thoughts about some girl that would be sitting at home alone on prom night instead of attending the premier event of the high school social calendar. Trying to sell the event as an act of service, however, did nothing for my son. At my urging, my wife glumly gave up on her dream of our son attending prom.

During the week following the prom, I saw links on my son's Facebook page to numerous photos of friends that had attended the prom along with their dates. All were carefully groomed. The young men were all dressed in fine formal clothing; some of it very classy. Each young woman had a fancy hairdo and near perfect makeup. All were exquisitely dressed.

But every last girl — most of whom stand up every Sunday and recite words about being "daughters of God" that "STAND as witnesses of God at all times and in all things, and in all places" and "strive to live [with] ... virture" — were dressed in various stages of immodesty. Some looked like a cross between Disney's Cinderella and a hooker. After seeing scads of such photos, I was relieved that my son chose to avoid the prom. I now live in desperate fear of the time when my young daughter will be of age to attend a prom.

This topic was fresh on my mind when I encountered this WSJ article that poses the question, "Why do so many of us not only permit our teenage daughters to dress like this—like prostitutes, if we're being honest with ourselves—but pay for them to do it with our AmEx cards?"

Frankly, it's the moms that permit and even encourage their daughters to dress this way. Despite the evolution of partner roles over the past two generations, study after study shows that dads have relatively little say in how their daughters dress. They mostly defer to the girl's mother on this topic. So why is it that moms take delight in dressing their young daughters like aspiring porn actresses? What does this tell our daughters about their self worth and personal power?

The article's author describes a friend suggesting that moms dressing their daughters to look "hot" as a mom-daughter bonding experience. But the author feels that it goes beyond this. She writes:

"So here we are, the feminist and postfeminist and postpill generation. We somehow survived our own teen and college years (except for those who didn't), and now, with the exception of some Mormons, evangelicals and Orthodox Jews, scads of us don't know how to teach our own sons and daughters not to give away their bodies so readily. We're embarrassed, and we don't want to be, God forbid, hypocrites."

I'm grateful that the author indicated that "some Mormons" know how to train their kids to be modest. Because judging from my son's friends' prom photos, there are plenty that don't.

The author has a point about moms wanting to avoid hypocrisy, but to me it does not fully explain the phenomenon I have been discussing. I know plenty of moms that grew up chaste and modest that now dress their young daughters like trollops. Perhaps their sense of being unpopular as a somewhat prudish teen is so keen that they are willing to bow to the standards of the world in a bid to enhance their daughter's popularity. I'm not sure how well this works in real life. Trying to prevent the pain of unpopularity this way will turn out to be a poor bargain in the long run.

I think the author's discussion of moms living vicariously through their daughters also strikes a chord. She writes, "... when I see my daughter in drop-dead gorgeous mode, I experience something akin to a thrill—especially since I myself am somewhat past the age to turn heads."

Girls that learn that gaining power via sex appeal is useful and acceptable will not likely give up on it easily. When they find their own ability to exercise this power naturally diminished with age, they can relive the "thrill" by training their daughters in such arts. Even while admitting to this kind of parental indiscretion, the author laments that each succeeding generation seems to take such matters to new extremes — and not in a good way.

A family in our congregation has four lovely daughters. The three older daughters are now out of high school, but throughout their high school years each was regularly asked to school sponsored formal dances. Although church leaders frown on the practice, it is customary for girls to wear their formal gowns to church the day after the dance. These girls always wore outfits that were gorgeous without being revealing. Many moms complain of the difficulty of finding dresses of this nature. But these girls' mom insists that it can be done if one thinks this kind of modesty is important.

I've dealt with my own high schoolers, but they've all been boys up to this point. Since I haven't had a teenage daughter yet, I am hardly one to sit in judgment of how others parent their daughters. I pray that we will be able to deal with issues such as this with wisdom and integrity.

High Grades, but Cheap

2011-03-17T18:23:00.000-06:00

One day as I walked into my son's high school, I was greeted by a large decorated bulletin board proudly displaying the names of the students that had achieved a 4.0 GPA during the previous term. The board was broken into sections by class. There was literally more than one hundred names listed in each section (for a student body of about 1,500).

I thought of my years attending the same high school. My name would never have appeared on such a list. Even after I escaped my history of C's in junior high school and learned to apply myself academically, I never got a report card that had straight A's. I had several that had a mixture of A and A– grades. But never straight A's. In fact, I could have counted on my fingers and toes the number of students in the school that achieved straight A's in any given term.

My son is very bright. He has a much higher cumulative GPA than I had at the same age. Yet he ranks as #128 in his class. My wife, who is much smarter than me, explained to my son that, although her GPA was .05 lower than his, she ranked as #26 in her graduating class (at a different high school).

If one were to compare simply the GPAs of the students in the classes from which my wife and I graduated and the students that will be graduating from my son's school in a couple of months, one would conclude that today's students are significantly smarter and/or harder working than were their parents at the same age.

I don't mean to sound envious, but such a conclusion frankly doesn't pass the smell test.

Years ago, the local high school gave out a pin for having been on the honor roll six times. I checked my old yearbook and saw that 137 of my class of 500 received this award. (My name is misspelled in the list.)

The school still gives this award, but it now requires eight terms on the honor roll. My son's graduating class will be about the same size as mine was. This morning I attended an award ceremony at the school where 209 members of the class were given the pin. The teacher conducting the ceremony indicated that many more would receive the award later this year. It looks like more than half of the graduating class will end up being on the honor roll at least eight of the twelve terms they will spend at the school.

Increasing the number of honor terms it takes to get the pin only gave the award a chimera of additional rigor. Tellingly, more than half of the award's recipients didn't even bother to show up to receive the honor this morning. Grade inflation has devalued the award to the point that it is rather meaningless.

Is this philosophy of lowering standards serving our students well? Achievements mean little when they come too easily. Or, as Thomas Paine put it in his essay, The Crisis, "What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly: it is dearness only that gives every thing its value. Heaven knows how to put a proper price upon its goods...."

A generation of efforts to broaden educational achievement has instead cheapened the experience. This ill serves all students.

Belief vs. Faith

2011-03-11T20:58:00.000-07:00

There is a qualitative difference between belief and faith, although, the terms are sometimes used interchangeably. Belief can amount to little more than a matter of opinion. Faith is substantially acting on a belief. One can believe in something without having faith in it. Belief is relatively undemanding, while faith requires commitment. Some dictionaries include terms such as trust, loyalty, and fidelity in the definition of faith.

Whether we admit it or not, each of us lives out our days committing acts of faith. We go to work because we have faith that the benefits of doing so will outweigh the consequences of not doing so. Although we may be operating on pretty good evidence that this is true, we cannot know its verity for certain until after the fact.

Some will argue that this is not faith. Let me give another example. A person that has never flown on an airplane may have every reason to believe that it is a safe form of travel. There is plenty of evidence to bolster such a belief. However, it requires an act of faith to actually get on an airplane to fly to a distant destination.

Fear of flying is a fairly widespread phenomenon. Mature adults can admit that statistics show how safe it is to fly on commercial aircraft. They may personally know hundreds of individuals that have safely flown many times. And yet they may have difficulty mustering sufficient faith to travel by that method. For such a person, submitting to air travel is a strong act of faith.

As much as our society revels in facts and data, scientists also know that the average human is no Mr. Spock. Even those that pride themselves on their rationality are, like the rest of us, sometimes profoundly illogical beings. In terms of the human experience, logic itself is often an irrationally applied concept.

As a computer application developer, I work with logic continually. Computers have become dramatically 'smarter' throughout my career. And yet logic usually works well because computer systems are still very narrowly scoped environments. When broken down into their basic building blocks, computers operate on the basis of millions and billions of minute yes/no decisions.

The same is not true for humans. For starters, our environments are much broader and far less controlled than computer systems. We operate in multiple choice environments with naturally imposed processing limitations and constraints enforced by context and past 'programming.' Myriads of decisions we make daily cannot feasibly be reduced to a series of tiny yes/no determinations.

On the other hand, some scientists have speculated that what we call intuition is really made up of countless hardware- and software-based determinations that are rapidly but subconsciously processed. In this view, what many think of as illogic may actually be much more logical than trying to make all determinations based only on purposeful conscious thought. Those that pride themselves on their rationality may actually be denying themselves of access to their brain's most powerful logic functions.

Even if this is true, however, humans tend to appear so illogical because we operate with heavy restrictions in a broad, varied, and evolving environment. It is not be possible for even the smartest and most enlightened among us to have sufficient knowledge and processing capacity to effectively deal logically with everything that we are called upon to deal with.

Whether we like it or not, we live in a world where from birth to the end of life we are saddled with having to place a great amount of trust on imperfect systems, people, and assumptions. We simply have no alternative. Although we all have our reasons for choosing various belief systems, we tend to do so because we admire others that hew to those systems and we have some level of comfort with those systems.

We are not static individuals. Humans often alter their belief systems when they encounter something with which they feel more comfortable.

When we have enough trust in a belief to turn it into committed action, we embark upon an experiment. How we proceed thereafter depends largely upon how we interpret the results of our experiment. Due to dramatic diversity of individual human hardware and software implementations, what looks like success to one may appear to be failure to others.

When we feel that we have sufficient evidence to back up our belief system, what seems like counter evidence to others will do little to dissuade us from our convictions. In fact, counter evidence presented by those adhering to different belief systems may come across as supporting evidence instead.

When you think about it, this isn't necessarily illogical, given that we are all operating on very limited amounts of truth. Even 'facts' obtained via the scientific method are inadequate because anything that can be reduced to such an experiment is necessarily limited in scope so that it loses its strength or is merely lost in the noise when dropped into the rushing stream of complexity that each of us continuously face.

It has been human tendency since time immemorial to engage in hubris. We either convince ourselves or pretend that we know much more than we really do, can place our vast store of knowledge in proper context, and can dictate what is best for others. Surely this is so in this age of exploding information?

We are merely fooling ourselves if we think so. Humility is prized as a virtue because it is so rare.

Despite it being broadly and officially discounted by elite society, faith is an integral part of our daily lives. It is and will continue to be an essential ingredient of the human experience. Given our limitations, we would do well to approach such matters with a dose of humility.

"I Decided"

2011-03-09T18:46:00.000-07:00

I have described how years ago I lost 60 lbs over the period of a year, going from tubby to normal weight. I have mostly kept the weight off for more than two decades.

A couple of years ago, I ran into a longtime friend who is reaching a point where he can likely envision retirement from his teaching career on the horizon. He was my boss when I worked at Boy Scout camp as a teenager. Back in those days my friend was thin and wiry. Like almost every other middle age American, the years had added a bit of padding around his formerly lithe middle.

The day I encountered my friend after not seeing him for half a year or so, he looked decidedly older. But he also looked to be about the same size he was back when I worked for him. The excess pounds were gone. He had shed 70 lbs from a high of 203 lbs (which is plenty for a guy of his stature).

My first question was whether my friend was in good health. He told me that people ask him and his wife all of the time whether he has cancer or not. He assured me that he was in top health. In fact, he said that he hadn’t felt so good in years.

Having been through my own weight control challenges, I asked my friend what he had done. He said simply, “I decided.” When he saw my questioning look, he continued, “I decided to do what had to be done to lose the excess weight. Making the commitment was the hardest part.” He then flattered me by suggesting that I had been part of his motivation. Having seen me do it, he knew it could be done.

My friend’s approach to weight loss differed somewhat from my own. He employed a self designed approach focused on reduced calorie intake. This was not something he jumped into without research. There is a growing body of evidence that supports the concept that maintaining a restricted but adequate calorie intake both improves health and lengthens lifespan.

The plan was simple. Eat only at regular mealtimes (three times daily). Eat only a (truly) reasonable portion of the elements of a balanced meal at each mealtime. Eat nothing else at all. No between meal snacks. No dessert items — ever.

By implementing this plan, my friend was pleased to watch the excess pounds melt away over the months until he was normal weight for his frame. He boasts of pleasantly hiking to Angels Landing in Zion National Park without ever feeling out of breath or fatigued.

At the time I met up with my friend, I had slowly added about 10 lbs that were proving stubborn to get off. Having inspired my friend, I felt inspired by him. Last spring I decided to get rid of those extra pounds. Once the commitment was made for real, I found a way to successfully shed the weight and fit comfortably into my pants again. It is surprising how much of a difference 10 lbs makes in stamina, agility, heart rate, blood pressure, just breathing, and general physical health.

My approach to weight loss isn’t like my friend’s. He says that for him it is a good thing to keep his appetite perpetually keen. He feels that self denial adds moral and mental strength. Besides, he loves his grandchildren so much that he wants to perpetuate his life as long as possible. If the research is correct, he is well on his way to his goal.

But not everyone shares my friend’s level of self discipline. Hunger is the bane of most people trying to lose weight. When hunger strikes dieters tend to eat excess calories, often of the variety they would normally avoid while trying to lose pounds. For this reason, many weight loss coaches suggest eating small but adequate meals and healthy snacks throughout the day to prevent hunger buildup.

Over the years I have discovered that no single weight loss plan really works for everyone that desires to lose weight. It’s not simply whether it works scientifically. There are hundreds of plans out there that do that. A plan has to work socially and psychologically for the individual as well.

For this reason, weight loss is a highly personalized thing. Each person has to find a plan that actually works for them. That might take muddling around until you find the right thing. In fact, it may require changing approaches over the years as you and your social situations evolve.

But the more I think about it, the more I think my friend is right. The biggest key to weight loss is deciding to do it. Once the commitment is firmly made, you will put up with a lot of things you wouldn’t have endured before making the commitment. Once the commitment is made you will find a plan that works for you.

But making a commitment is a two part thing. A commitment is no good if you don’t know where you’re going. You have to have a goal. My friend’s goal was to get back to his normal weight of yore. He made it. Those that are 70 lbs overweight but commit to simply “lose weight” will be far less likely to find success. A specific but realistic goal is an indispensible element of making a commitment of this nature.

Without a real goal-oriented commitment you will tend to sabotage your imagined purpose. My Mom attends a water aerobics class with some friends several times weekly. Mom complains that her friends want to stop at McDonald’s for a treat after almost every exercise session. This is an example of the well known exercise-reward-sabotage syndrome.

It takes an awful lot of physical exertion to burn 100 calories. Experts have long known that people that work out tend to reward themselves afterward with more calories than they burned during their workout. One of Mom’s exercise friends complains that she can’t seem to lose any weight no matter what she does. Her real problem is a lack of a real target and a real commitment.

You want to lose weight? The first step is a serious commitment. The rest will fill itself in. And who knows? Maybe you will end up being an inspiration to somebody else.

Pre-Adults

2011-03-02T17:56:00.004-07:00

Writer Kay Hymowitz says in this WSJ op-ed that over the last generation society has spawned a new social segment that she calls "pre-adulthood." This phase is sandwiched between the teen years and full adulthood.

Hymowitz notes that the now common teenager phase is actually a relatively recent phenomenon that came about as the Industrial Age ripened. As the economy shifted from agriculture to industry and prosperity crept forward, it became decreasingly necessary for teens to economically contribute to a family's needs.

Moreover, workers began to become increasingly specialized. This happens in all advancing economies and it is one of the key ingredients to the expansion of prosperity. However, it also means that workers increasingly need better qualifications to become full economic contributors.

Some have argued that secondary schools arose as baby-sitting services for unproductive adolescents so that their parents could be freed up to work. While that may not be wholly incorrect, the fact is that schools arose to fill the economic need for better qualified workers.

One of the problems with the advent of teenager-hood as its own element is that it leaves people in limbo for a number of years. They are no longer children but neither can they be full social-economic contributors. Almost all respond with some level of rebellious behavior, lashing out against societal norms. This ranges from relatively benign actions to ones that produce long-term negative consequences.

Our social-economic system continues to evolve, creating demand for ever more specialized workers. The system has also permitted more women to not only enter the workforce but to excel in the workforce as never before. These elements together have expanded the limbo period from the teen years to the young adult years, the period that Hymowitz calls "pre-adulthood."

The advancement of women has decreased the demand for men to achieve responsibility and independence. To put it bluntly, women have less of a need of a husband in order to be socially and economically stable than used to be the case. The combination of these factors means that the pre-adult stage is mostly a male thing.

While women are graduating college and embarking on promising careers, men that have been "wait-listed for adulthood" are acting like adult-size teenagers. Hymowitz writes, "Single men have never been civilization's most responsible actors; they continue to be more troubled and less successful than men who deliberately choose to become husbands and fathers. ... Relatively affluent, free of family responsibilities, and entertained by an array of media devoted to his every pleasure, the single young man can live in pig heaven—and often does."

Just as marketers quickly took advantage of burgeoning ranks of teens in the 20th Century, they are heavily targeting those 20-something males that have little sense of responsibility.

There are certainly men that get an education during their 20s. However, some have complained that we are producing masses of educated barbarians that lack the kind of responsibility and self restraint required to maintain a civil society.

With men coming late to the social and economic party, many are no doubt slated to spend fewer years in a productive career than their parents' generation before they begin to crave the leisure promised by retirement. Having spent much and saved little during their younger years (and given the anticipated instability of Social Security), many of these men may find full retirement elusive as they age.

Families can do much to encourage their young men to grow up to be men. Those young men that fail to man up may be on their way to obsolescence. That would not be a good thing. One of the major issues for societies throughout time has been how to deal with their men. Societies that find useful roles for their men to play thrive far better than those that don't. Given our current trajectory, we may find ourselves in a bad place in a couple of generations.

Legos — Yeah, We Got 'Em

2011-02-24T20:30:00.000-07:00

Last week I read this post by a mom that has a love-hate relationship with Lego blocks. I know where she's coming from. All five of our children have gone through Lego phases. I have two that are true Lego-maniacs. We have been accumulating Legos for at least a decade and a half. We literally have thousands of Lego blocks. (Maybe tens of thousands.)

Legos are kind of like the force in Star Wars. They have a light side and a dark side. On the light side, says the mom, Legos "are hours upon hours of fun" and "help young minds conceptualize, construct and be creative."

On the dark side, Legos "are eye-popping, jaw-dropping, brain-blowing expensive." Legos never stay in one place. They are insidious. They end up in the most remote nooks and crannies of homes and automobiles. They end up on the floor. And then you step on them, as Tim Hawkins explains in the following video.

I'm not as down on Legos as the mom is. I think that there are a couple of reasons for this. One is that I grew up with my own Legos. The blocks we had back then were actual blocks. That is, they were blocky. We didn't have all of the amazing shapes, configurations, and colors that Lego offers nowadays.

While I was careful to keep my few personal sets apart from the family's conglomerated Lego collection for most of my formative years, all of the Legos eventually ended up in a bucket. After years of being played with by five boys, the bucket sat in the laundry room until my parents started having grandkids come over. Then the Legos enjoyed hours of play once again.

That is part of the answer to the incredible expense of Legos. They are timeless. Yes, we have Star Wars, Harry Potter, Indiana Jones, ninja, alien, and other themed Lego sets, but the blocks continue to be played with long after the sets have disappeared into the larger Lego collection. Legos are useful for decades while the latest $60 computer game is useful, on average, for about 90 days.

Legos are also pretty high quality items. Years ago I bought several sets of another brand of Lego wannabe blocks. The kids detected the difference right away. I scoffed at this at first, but you know what, they were right. The other brands simply aren't as well made as Legos, even though, they offer some cool looking sets.

My wife sometimes despairs about the mass of Legos that migrate around our home. We've got one boy right now that has great difficulty taking apart any Lego creation that he has lovingly crafted from his own imagination. After a play session the floor of his room is strewn with completed sets that he will only put on the shelves at greatest urging.

But the hours and years spent with Legos beats many of the other pursuits in which kids commonly engage nowadays.

Yes, Legos are expensive. Yes, they get scattered all over. But in the end, I think they are worth the hassle. I can see us having thousands of Legos around our house for many years to come.

Dinnertime Blues

2011-02-22T17:45:00.000-07:00

My wife complains that there is no single meal that she can prepare that every member of the family will eat. It's true that some of our children are rather picky about what they will eat. But I know that I am part of the problem too.

It seems like everyone from church leaders to mental health experts to doctors and dietitians to the government has for a number of years advocated families sitting down to home cooked meals together. The benefits of doing so are said to include:

Stronger family relationships.
Better communication skills.
Lower food bills.
Healthier eating.
Better physical and mental health.
Better academic performance for students.

That's a pretty impressive list. Why would anyone give up such bountiful advantages?

Well, it turns out that trying to have a regular sit down family meal each evening can be pretty challenging. Part of the problem is the variable schedules of family members. Once children reach the age where they have their own schedules outside of the family, trying to get everyone together for a meal at a specific time can be very difficult. Add to this the demands on parents' time and it becomes darn near impossible in a family the size of ours.

Then there's the problem with variable dietary issues. The problem started with me years ago when I decided to get serious about losing the 40 lbs I had gained in the year following our wedding.

My lovely wife has never quite dealt with the same kind of propensity to pack on weight that has plagued me throughout life. Yet she joined me (most of the time) in my newfound healthy dietary regimen.

Once kids came along, my diet diverged from the common family diet. You see, my diet fulfilled all of the health gurus' recommendations, but it was far from tasty. Moreover, food preparation under my eating plan was difficult and time consuming. Although she has constantly supported me in my health pursuits, my wonderful wife simply couldn't bring herself to try to force little kids to eat that way.

I know people that say that they will never have a picky child. They will simply tell the kids to eat what is prepared or to go hungry. I suppose that could work in real life if both parents can maintain a hard stand. But we can't bring ourselves to implement a Soviet Politburo style of parenting.

We thought we had the eating thing figured out for our kids. Most of them ate broccoli with delight — until they were about four or five. Then vegetables became anathema to them. (Except for my daughter, who still adores certain vegetables.)

We have two children that absolutely refuse to eat eggs in any form. (Except perhaps in baked goods.) We have a child that won't eat turkey at all. He'll eat some chicken, but never turkey. We have a child that would eat only protein and fat if he could get away with it. Another child won't eat anything that is primarily protein.

This is maddening to my wife, who makes efforts to prepare family meals. Thankfully we've got two kids that are somewhat more adventurous in eating. Alas, one of those has an allergic reaction to coconut and has to be careful about dining adventures.

We've tried all kinds of things. The occasional pot roast seems to go over OK, except with the anti-protein child. We can get pizza, but I usually won't partake of it. Even when we get pizza, we have to get both pepperoni and cheese (only) toppings. We used to be able to do pancakes, but some of our kids won't even eat those nowadays.

The upshot is that evening mealtimes often require the preparation of three or more different meals. It is not uncommon for various meals to be prepared and consumed at various times throughout the afternoon/evening. Other times we've got everyone eating at the same time, even if they might not be eating the same meal.

It's not that we are unappreciative of the benefits of a daily sit-down family meal. It's that we simply can't bring ourselves to go through what it takes to get there. It doesn't seem to be worth the effort, fighting, whining, etc.

To those that are far better than us at this, more power to you! I applaud you. You inspire us and we aspire to be like you. But we're still a long way from the ideal.

The New Incivility Is More of the Same

2011-02-16T20:20:00.001-07:00

Last month a letter to the editor was posted on the website of my local newspaper in which the writer complained of rising rates of incivility. As evidence for his claim he cited rude students and casual dress in our schools.

While it is obvious that American society has in general become increasingly casual in everyday dress and grooming, I am not sure that civility has in general declined. Patterns have changed somewhat, but are we truly less civil as a society? I am dubious of such a claim.

Are students by and large more rude than the previous generation? Well, those of us of that generation would probably think so. But we might be suffering from what I call Four Yorkshiremen syndrome. I'm sure we all had to walk uphill both ways to and from school in driving snow too.

I wrote a response to the letter on the newspaper website. When the letter was published in newsprint my retort was included as well. I basically questioned whether our society was less civil than it was between 1882 and 1959 when over 4,700 people (most of them blacks) were murdered by lynching while relatively few were brought to justice for the murders. Maybe they didn't have coarse content coming via cable TV back in those days, but we have relatively few unprosecuted cases of mob 'justice' nowadays.

So maybe we're less civil in our words and rhetoric nowadays than we were a generation ago. I'm still dubious. Films a documents survive that demonstrate the crass and vicious language that was plentiful during the late 60s and early 70s. The kind of racist and misogynist language that was common in the 1930s and 1940s would be shocking to us today. Some everyday slurs of yesteryear might even be legally actionable today, depending on the situation.

I'm afraid that our civilization has a long track record of acting shockingly uncivilized. The patterns of incivility change with time, but they continually wash over us like the ceaseless waves of the ocean.

I could be wrong about this. I note that every time anybody does anything somewhat controversial (or even reputed to be controversial) nowadays they are subjected to death threats. This means that there are people out there that at least fantasize about annihilating those with whom they disagree. Moreover, they have no qualms about voicing such insidious dreams to their real or perceived opponents.

To be sure, there are a few out there that not only harbor such fantasies, but actively seek to carry them out. We generally regard them as mentally unstable. They may be relatively few, but their existence means that all death threats have to be taken seriously.

I do not know whether the death threat phenomenon has grown in recent years or if we are simply more aware of it. Maybe technological advance simply makes it easier for angry people to communicate with their intended victims of intimidation than it used to be.

But I'm still not convinced that we are a significantly less civil society than in the past. What is considered acceptable behavior changes over time. Perhaps the overall level of civility ebbs and flows somewhat. But its general pattern is likely relatively constant.

The Education Bubble II

2011-02-15T19:42:00.000-07:00

Last month I posted about how educational subsidies are a significant factor in driving up the cost of higher education. I asserted that we are building a bubble of false value similar to what happened in the housing market. I did not think myself a good enough prophet to accurately forecast how this would play out.

Perhaps it is important to understand why people seek a college degree. It is generally understood—and is heavily promoted by the higher ed establishment—that the chief purpose of getting a college education is to improve one’s career prospects. Although some have suggested that this shouldn’t be the top reason for going to college, spending $50,000 to $150,000 and four to six years of one’s life to improve one’s academic understanding without expecting to be compensated throughout one’s career is simply unrealistic for the vast majority. The fact is that most people pursue a college education to improve their career prospects and — whether they admit it or not — to enhance their social status.

Writer Joshua Fulton adds some fuel to the arguments in my post with this article on the Ludwig von Mises Institute website. Fulton begins by explaining the role a “free” university education is playing in the unrest in Tunisia and Egypt. After noting that nothing provided “free” by the government is actually free, Fulton cites the incredibly high rate of unemployment among college graduates (especially recent graduates) in countries like Tunisia and Egypt that heavily subsidize higher education.

There simply isn’t enough demand for what these graduates are trained to do. Their less educated counterparts have fared far better as far as employment goes. They are performing jobs for which demand exists. Few of these are high paying jobs. But a job that pays something is better than no job at all. Fulton notes that those that are angry, idle, and well educated have played a significant role in many revolts at least since the French Revolution.

While the U.S. isn’t currently running in the same realm as Middle Eastern countries that fully fund college education, “we are headed in the same direction.” Fulton writes:

“From 1997 to 2007, full-time enrollment in US tertiary education increased 34 percent. The average college student graduates with $24,000 in debt, a 40 percent real increase from 1997. In 2008, only 57 percent of students enrolled in a four year college graduated within six years. The unemployment rate for 16 to 24-year-olds is 52 percent. The underemployed as a group may be as large as the unemployed in America. For example, in 1970 only 3 percent of mail carriers had a bachelor's degree, while today the number is 12 percent.”

Fulton explains that government aid promotes higher ed inflation. This is not dissimilar from the way subsidies skewed the housing market.

Only 40 percent of student loans are actively being repaid. Since government picks up the tab on defaulted student loans (that are subsidized via low interest rates already), the system is rife with perverse incentives. Lenders feel free to give loans to those that would otherwise be considered a bad risk. Debtors that have been pushed into this trap while still very young feel less obligated to pay. For-profit universities are among the greatest benefactors of this taxpayer largess.

When it comes to student debt, many of the benefits are privatized while many of the costs are socialized. That’s a bad system.

As we continue along this trajectory, we will eventually cross the point where education consumers perceive that the cost of the average college degree outweighs its value in the labor market. When that happens the education bubble must burst as did the housing bubble when a similar realization hit that market.

As I said in my previous post, I don’t know if the bubble will rapidly collapse or will slowly deflate. I’m not prescient. But the day of reckoning must come. It will no doubt result in a lot of pain.

Valentines Day Gifts

2011-02-14T11:59:00.001-07:00

I gave my wife a card for Valentines Day this morning. I made the card on the computer last night. We were at a local variety store on Saturday evening when I confessed to her that I had no Valentines gift for her. This wasn't for lack of trying.

I told my wife years ago that I refused to give her flowers for Valentines Day. My reasoning was that each time I had done so (even at significant cost) the flowers died quickly. When you think about the production and distribution chain that goes on in the fresh flower industry to supply the Valentines demand, you will realize that stock must be produced earlier, stored longer, and shipped over longer distances than average. The result is flowers that wilt sooner than on average. (The same phenomenon happens at Mother's Day.)

On a side note, I worked doing deliveries for a local flower shop when I was a teenager. I only worked the big flower giving holiday seasons: Valentines Day, Mothers Day, and Christmas. It was a tremendously fun job. Recipients were always very happy and treated me wonderfully.

I used to think it was a great treat to get my wife fine chocolates for occasions such as Valentines Day. My wife loves chocolate. But she limits herself to a tiny amount each day in the interest of health. Having a whole box of really good chocolates around, she advised me, encouraged her to overindulge, which made the chocolate experience less enjoyable. Besides, her practical side frets about the high cost of such delectables.

I learned long ago that Valentines Day is not the proper occasion for giving completely practical gifts. Thus, things like kitchen appliances and utensils are lousy Valentines gifts.

My wife really appreciates it when I buy her clothes. I think that part of the reason for that is that she knows that doing so is a huge sacrifice for me. I hate shopping for clothes. I don't like to shop for my own clothes, let alone shopping for clothes for others. My wife has often showed me the colors and styles of clothes she likes. But I note that even she agonizes over purchases. Imagine how difficult it must be for me.

In an effort to do something nice for my wife for Valentines Day, I made four different forays over recent weeks into womens clothing sections at stores. Three of those times I had a male child in tow that was embarrassed beyond expression to be in such a place. Each time I eventually despaired of finding something that would be acceptable.

So as we were doing some mundane shopping on Saturday evening, I confessed my dilemma to my wife. She walked me over to the spot where seasonal womens clothing items were on display, noted that she had always wanted some Valentines themed socks, and picked out a package with several pairs of such. It felt very unromantic.

A few weeks ago, I finally responded to a spiritual prompting that had been nagging me for some time. One day while my wife was out of the home I sat down and printed up a number of small hearts. On each one I noted some quality that I loved about her. I hid these messages in various spots where I was fairly certain that she would find them. She found most within two days. There were a few that popped up later. I notice that she uses one of those hearts as a bookmark.

This morning when I got up I saw a small heart shaped box of chocolates on my bathroom counter. I rarely indulge in such treats. So, although I was appreciative, I didn't bother the open the box. After I worked out, my wife asked if I had opened my box yet. I immediately surmised that the box must contain something other than chocolates, so I opened it to find a stack of small paper hearts. On each one was written a memory about our first date.

These were very good memories. We were lined up on a blind date by one of my former Boy Scouts, who wanted somebody to double date with him on a cookout up in the mountains. I was completely smitten that very first night. It didn't take long to discover that my then-to-be wife also felt strongly that we needed to be together. We hit it off very well together.

My wife explained that she wanted to give me a Valentines gift that was as good as the early Valentines gift I had given her a few weeks ago. Although I felt like I had blown this gift occasion, it seems that a gift given several weeks ago has somewhat compensated for my shortcoming this time around. I once again praise God for my wonderful wife.

Criminals Working the Suburbs

2011-02-10T20:11:00.000-07:00

I live in a nice quiet neighborhood where most homes are 15-25 years old. As long as we've lived here children have played freely around the neighborhood without parents having to be too concerned. Everyone kind of keeps an eye on their neighbors.

Last week a neighbor of mine was doing stuff around the house and in the yard before getting ready to head to a shift of work that started in the early afternoon. He is a detective with a local police agency. Some people are home in my neighborhood in the middle of the day on a weekday, but many homes have nobody home at that time.

My neighbor noticed a guy wandering from door to door that looked out of place in our neighborhood. So he just kind of kept an eye on the guy, who was carrying around a handful of flyers. Before long he noticed that as the guy was going from door to door he never left a flyer at any home.

In the meantime, my neighbor finished his chores and got ready to leave for work. But instead of leaving the neighborhood, he parked down the road and watched the apparent peddler. He noticed that when someone answered the door, the guy seemed eager to move on to the next house. But he also watched the guy try the door at some homes where nobody answered.

Finally my detective neighbor went up to the guy to chat with him. The guy claimed to be a vacuum salesman. But he knew nothing about vacuums. He couldn't explain what his flyers were about. He said that he had been dropped off in the neighborhood by his boss. But he didn't know who his boss was nor could he describe the boss' car. Besides, the guy looked a lot more like a drug peddler than a vacuum salesman.

Finally my police friend asked the man to verify his identity. He was unsurprised when the man first produced a fictitious name. But my friend has been doing this kind of work for a long time. He was soon able to get the guy's true identity. Although he hadn't broken any serious laws while in our neighborhood, the man had several outstanding warrants for his arrest. My police friend packed him up and hauled him to jail.

For the first time in its history our neighborhood saw a spate of crimes last summer. Items went missing out of garages. There was some vandalism. A couple of homes were broken into. One was ransacked pretty thoroughly.

Then a neighbor caught an unfamiliar 14-year-old girl in his garage in the middle of the day. The girl took off running. This man can no longer run, so he called the police from his cell phone. They came immediately and caught the girl only a block and a half away. She led them to her older accomplices. The neighborhood crime problem dried up after that.

That is, it dried up until autumn. Then a spacious home in the ritzy adjoining neighborhood was ransacked while the owners were out of town. The police said that this was a job by experienced thieves. The home is highly visible and near a thoroughfare. But the criminals got away without anyone noticing their activity.

A couple of police neighbors have said that they are seeing more crime in the suburbs lately. Criminals are expanding their markets. So we have been told to be more aware of what is going on in our neighborhood. Watch anyone that doesn't look like they belong to see what they are up to. Don't leave garages open. Don't leave valuables in cars, especially in open sight, even when the cars are parked in a garage.

We have also been told to watch to make sure that people that appear to be service workers in the neighborhood are really working for one of our neighbors. We have been told to be careful about who we hire to come to our yards and into our homes to do work.

A manager of mine said that her parole officer husband came home for lunch one day to find a parolee doing yard work at his neighbor's place. The neighbor had seen the guy with a "will work for food" sign and had brought him home. The parole officer knew that the guy was there merely to case the joint. Besides, his activity was a clear violation of his parole terms. So back to jail he went.

I guess my neighborhood isn't quite as innocent of a place as it once was. Residents will have to be more vigilant than in the past. But over time I suspect that continued problems will cause people to relocate and will bring a different type of resident into the neighborhood.

What Is Childhood For?

2011-02-09T20:58:00.002-07:00

Amy Chua made headlines — and earned herself some death threats — when she released her book Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother. Some vehemently expressed their displeasure with Ms. Chua's intensely disciplined approach to child rearing, which she details in her book.

The Chinese born Chua, a super achiever that is a law professor at Yale, wants her daughters to be as accomplished as she is, or even more so. She views their childhood as training for such a future. But she admits that trying to micromanage the development of her children is an uphill battle when they are surrounded by American culture.

Americans have a long history in taking a more relaxed approach to childhood than Ms. Chua's Chinese culture. For one thing, individualism is much more deeply rooted in the American psyche. Americans pride themselves on being more than cog in a wheel; more than a playing piece whose personal desires are expendable for the "greater good" of society.

James Bernard Murphy of Dartmouth writes in this WSJ op-ed:

"Children are not merely adults in training. They are also people with distinctive powers and joys. A happy childhood is measured not only by the standards of adult success, but also by the enjoyment of the gifts given to children alone."

Murphy lists three "unique blessings of childhood."

The gift of moral innocence.
The gift of openness to the future.
Freedom from the grim economy of time.

"We parents," writes Murphy "are so focused on adult superiority that we forget that most of us produced our best art, asked our deepest philosophical questions, and most readily mastered new gadgets when we were mere children." So there is value in childhood in and of itself.

Murphy then launches into a discussion about longstanding deep philosophical differences on the purposes of childhood. Aristotle considered childhood a necessary evil. "By contrast," says Murphy, "Jesus frequently praised children, welcomed their company, and even commanded adults to emulate them."

After noting that parents try to straddle the paradox between preparing children for adulthood and protecting them from it, Murphy goes on to suggest that parents would benefit from "taking a reflective time-out from teaching our children to discover how much we might learn from them."

Childhood for me was preparation for adulthood. But it was also filled with periods of joy, pain, boredom, innocence, and learning. While too much free time can lead to unhealthy pursuits, I believe that too little unstructured time is also counterproductive.

All parents have hopes for their children. Most do what they can to realize those dreams. But some parents go overboard, living vicariously through their children, attempting to force the child to become what they want them to be. They have too little appreciation for what their child is right now.

I have frequently seen high achieving kids whose parents have stepped over the line from being their support system to being dictators that give their kids little room to learn to think and act for themselves. For years my Dad was in a position to interact with a number of youth and their parents. He quickly learned to see the difference between kids that were good because they chose to be good and kids that were good simply because they had never been permitted an opportunity to choose otherwise.

I'd be the last one to tell Ms. Chua how she ought to raise her kids. Each of her daughters will likely grow to be the kind of fine person their mother is. My kids, on the other hand, will have to be satisfied with being the kind of person each has chosen to become.