My son and I stood in line at the store behind a pretty young mother and her beautiful two-year-old daughter. The mom was dressed casually but not cheaply. Her clothing and grooming reflected significant investments. She was adorned with a number of high quality multi-color tattoos that looked far more stylish that the usual dreck I see glopped on people’s bodies at that establishment. Her high class jewelry and piercings virtually shouted, “I’m worth a lot of money!”
The lady didn’t have many items to purchase. We were, after all, in the express lane. Some of the things looked like common necessities, but others would definitely have been considered discretionary items in my household.
“That’ll be 56.37,” said the clerk. The young mom opened her sleek wallet, extracted a card, slid it through the card reader, and typed in some numbers. “I’m sorry,” said the clerk, “but there isn’t enough on that card to cover the purchase.” The young mom seemed only mildly perturbed as she returned the card to her wallet, pulled out another, and said, “Let’s try this one.”
Once again, the mom swiped the card. The clerk said, “That card has been rejected.” Not to worry. The lady kept her cool and pulled out yet another card. Nope. That one had a zero balance in the debit account. “It looks like I’ll have to run home and get my other card. How long can you keep the groceries here at the check stand?” she asked. “Thirty minutes. You’ve got to be back in thirty minutes, or they put it all away,” came the reply.
By this time, more people had lined up behind us. Some were getting a little anxious about the time being consumed by this one customer in the express lane.
“OK,” said the tattooed lady, “we’ll be back in a few minutes. But I have enough to get this,” she said, as she held up a bag containing a colorful little fish. Her daughter playfully reached for the bag as the mom raised it out of the toddler’s grasp and handed it to the clerk. The bag went across the scanner. The register display showed $15.98 before tax was added. The lady swiped her first card, punched in a code, and was soon walking away with her exotic fish while items that looked to me like essentials remained behind.
Since we had only a few items, we were soon finished with our transaction and on our way out of the door. It turned out that we were only a few yards behind the glamorous gal. It surprised me to see her pile her daughter and fancy fish into a dilapidated old heap that was parked next to our vehicle. The car and driver painted an incongruous picture as the thing sputtered and smoked on its way out of the parking lot.
Inaccuracies are bound to result from judging a person after two minutes of observation. But I couldn’t help wondering what kind of priorities this lady has and how she got to such a state.
Tuesday, August 03, 2010
Monday, August 02, 2010
Ward Phone List Challenges and Opportunities
It wasn’t that long ago that the quickest way to get a message out to other members of the average LDS ward was to ride a horse or walk to a handful of farms. I’m sure that as telephones gained in popularity, people fretted about the loss of face-to-face contact.
When I was a kid, the only phone in the house was a rotary dial model on the wall of the kitchen. When the phone rang, we had no way of knowing who was calling until we picked up the receiver and talked to the caller. It was a really big deal when Dad installed a second rotary dial phone in the basement during my teen years.
We’ve come a long way since those days. My house has phones all over the place. Most of them are cordless and all of them have pushbutton interfaces. You can buy retro rotary dial phones, but I haven’t seen such a beast in a home for a very long time.
When I built my home, few had ever heard the term “landline.” All phone lines were landlines. It wasn’t terribly many years ago that cellular phones were the exclusive domain of the incredibly rich. Those huge handsets were usually integrated with fancy automobiles. Nowadays, tiny cell phones have become so ubiquitous that many are opting to drop their landline accounts completely. Pay phones are disappearing too.
It used to be that everyone in a neighborhood had the same kind of communication technology, but that’s not the case anymore. As I look around my LDS ward, I find people that still have a single landline phone in their home (with no caller-ID), some families that have a landline and a single cell phone that is used only in exceptional cases, those with cell phones but no texting plan, people with full-fledged smartphones, and every other permutation and combination imaginable. This diversity significantly complicates ward communications.
The one commonality here is that every family in my ward has at least one telephone of some kind. They don’t always answer the things (perhaps due to caller-ID) and they don’t always respond to messages left. So even voice calling is a hit-and-miss prospect.
Texting works for some people, especially among the younger crowd. Trent Toone suggests in this MormonTimes article that it’s good to know a person’s texting policy before sending them a text message. (Some people pay for every text message sent or received while others have unlimited texting.) I know that people worry about the loss of personal voice-to-voice interaction, but sometimes texting is the best contact method. One text can be sent to many people, but you have to be careful about generating less-than-useful spam.
As Jacob Hancock notes in this MormonTimes article, a big problem for intra-ward communications is that most ward telephone lists reflect only one phone number per family. For those that have dropped their landlines, the number listed most likely belongs to the husband’s cell phone. That isn’t very helpful if you’re trying to reach a different family member.
We can grouse about technological change, or we can just get with the program and deal with it. As Elder Jeffrey R. Holland said in April 2007 general conference, nothing “is so bad that whining about it won’t make it worse.”
Hancock says that the church is working on updating its computer systems to handle the evolving communication paradigm. But the church’s IT folks don’t have the solution ready yet. As soon as you add more data fields to a database, you increase the difficulty of keeping the data current. Not only would it be useful to know whether a phone number belongs to a landline or a cell phone, it would also be helpful to know whether it is acceptable to send text messages to the number. Of course, that would mean even more data to gather and maintain.
In my last post, I discussed my database that tracks participation on Sacrament meeting programs. In that database, I have a phone field that is tied to a house’s address. I also have a phone field for each individual, but I don’t have multiple phone fields for each individual.
It would probably be prudent for me to redesign the database to have a separate table for tracking phone numbers. But as soon as I do that, my data maintenance job will become more complicated. My reports will need to be redesigned too, so that they show the various phone numbers at which a person might be reached. As soon as you display more than one number per person, it becomes important to list the type of number it is and the order of contact preference. It would also be nice to note whether it is OK to send a text to the number or not.
As I wrote above, it makes no sense to gripe about the difficulties inherent in tracking communication points. All you can do is roll with the punches.
When I was a kid, the only phone in the house was a rotary dial model on the wall of the kitchen. When the phone rang, we had no way of knowing who was calling until we picked up the receiver and talked to the caller. It was a really big deal when Dad installed a second rotary dial phone in the basement during my teen years.
We’ve come a long way since those days. My house has phones all over the place. Most of them are cordless and all of them have pushbutton interfaces. You can buy retro rotary dial phones, but I haven’t seen such a beast in a home for a very long time.
When I built my home, few had ever heard the term “landline.” All phone lines were landlines. It wasn’t terribly many years ago that cellular phones were the exclusive domain of the incredibly rich. Those huge handsets were usually integrated with fancy automobiles. Nowadays, tiny cell phones have become so ubiquitous that many are opting to drop their landline accounts completely. Pay phones are disappearing too.
It used to be that everyone in a neighborhood had the same kind of communication technology, but that’s not the case anymore. As I look around my LDS ward, I find people that still have a single landline phone in their home (with no caller-ID), some families that have a landline and a single cell phone that is used only in exceptional cases, those with cell phones but no texting plan, people with full-fledged smartphones, and every other permutation and combination imaginable. This diversity significantly complicates ward communications.
The one commonality here is that every family in my ward has at least one telephone of some kind. They don’t always answer the things (perhaps due to caller-ID) and they don’t always respond to messages left. So even voice calling is a hit-and-miss prospect.
Texting works for some people, especially among the younger crowd. Trent Toone suggests in this MormonTimes article that it’s good to know a person’s texting policy before sending them a text message. (Some people pay for every text message sent or received while others have unlimited texting.) I know that people worry about the loss of personal voice-to-voice interaction, but sometimes texting is the best contact method. One text can be sent to many people, but you have to be careful about generating less-than-useful spam.
As Jacob Hancock notes in this MormonTimes article, a big problem for intra-ward communications is that most ward telephone lists reflect only one phone number per family. For those that have dropped their landlines, the number listed most likely belongs to the husband’s cell phone. That isn’t very helpful if you’re trying to reach a different family member.
We can grouse about technological change, or we can just get with the program and deal with it. As Elder Jeffrey R. Holland said in April 2007 general conference, nothing “is so bad that whining about it won’t make it worse.”
Hancock says that the church is working on updating its computer systems to handle the evolving communication paradigm. But the church’s IT folks don’t have the solution ready yet. As soon as you add more data fields to a database, you increase the difficulty of keeping the data current. Not only would it be useful to know whether a phone number belongs to a landline or a cell phone, it would also be helpful to know whether it is acceptable to send text messages to the number. Of course, that would mean even more data to gather and maintain.
In my last post, I discussed my database that tracks participation on Sacrament meeting programs. In that database, I have a phone field that is tied to a house’s address. I also have a phone field for each individual, but I don’t have multiple phone fields for each individual.
It would probably be prudent for me to redesign the database to have a separate table for tracking phone numbers. But as soon as I do that, my data maintenance job will become more complicated. My reports will need to be redesigned too, so that they show the various phone numbers at which a person might be reached. As soon as you display more than one number per person, it becomes important to list the type of number it is and the order of contact preference. It would also be nice to note whether it is OK to send a text to the number or not.
As I wrote above, it makes no sense to gripe about the difficulties inherent in tracking communication points. All you can do is roll with the punches.
Sunday, August 01, 2010
Our Sacrament Meeting Database
Years ago when I was called to serve as a member of the bishopric (lay clergy leadership) of my local LDS Church congregation (known as a ward), the need for a way to manage Sacrament meeting worship service programs quickly became clear.
In these weekly congregational meetings, the prayers, ordinances, sermons, and musical numbers are performed by lay members. Any member of the congregation may be invited to participate. In LDS terminology, these invitations are “callings” extended by the congregational leaders — usually members of the bishopric.
As a busy bishopric member, how do you go about arranging for members to fill these callings in an efficient manner? How do you spread the opportunities around so that you don’t rely on the same people over and over while constantly ignoring others? Technology provided part of the answer for our bishopric.
The main members of an LDS ward bishopric are the bishop and his two counselors. Other members include an executive secretary, a ward clerk, and assistant ward clerks. In our bishopric, Sacrament meeting arrangements fell to the bishop and the counselors. The other bishopric members had their own duties to attend to.
Within weeks of beginning my bishopric calling, I devised two tools that proved immensely helpful to us, especially as time went on. First, I built a spreadsheet that listed the dates of the next year of upcoming Sacrament meeting worship services. I had columns for date, main topic, possible participants, musical numbers, the bishopric member that would conduct, and the bishopric member in charge of making the arrangements.
Every three months, we would sit down as a bishopric and develop pretty solid plans for the upcoming three months, somewhat firm plans for the following quarter, and loose plans for the quarter after that. So our spreadsheet consistently covered nine months. While meeting conducting duties shifted among us from month to month, each of us would take a three-month stint to arrange meetings. This three-month window allowed for flexibility to shift program arrangements around to different weeks, as needed.
This worked well for us. Once we had our plans written down, the arrangements weren’t too difficult to make. Occasionally we’d have to revisit the plan when something didn’t work out as originally charted, but it was rarely a big deal. Each of us would take care of extending meeting participation callings for three months. This was followed by a half a year reprieve from that duty.
My ward’s current bishopric manages this on a month-by-month basis. Each bishopric member arranges and conducts all of the meetings for a given month, and then they’ve got two months off from those duties.
The second tool I developed was a MS Access database that tracks who does what in Sacrament meeting. I populated the people table with pertinent data about each ward member. An association table hooks individuals together in families and provides address and contact info. The Sacrament program table lets me plug in the program date, each participant, and the type of service rendered (i.e. prayer, speech, musical number).
I developed a number of database reports that were useful to the bishopric. The main report lists details about prayers, youth talks, adult talks, and musical numbers. Each of these categories lists participants for the past five years ordered both by least recent date and alphabetically. Each list shows how many times each individual has participated in that activity during the past five years. In addition, the prayer and speech categories list available members that have not participated in that activity for the past five years. (I didn’t do that for musical numbers, because only some are capable of public musical performances.)
After wrapping up my stint in the bishopric, I continued to provide monthly printouts to subsequent bishoprics. This has been considered to be very useful. Some that have found out about my database have expressed concern that bishoprics might rely too heavily on the data instead of inspiration in making assignments. While there is some possibility that this could happen, I have not observed such. Access to historical information tends to augment inspiration rather than replace it.
Of course, all databases are only as useful as the data they contain. Like all other databases, this one needs to be updated continually. That task falls to me as a volunteer effort. I enter Sacrament program data weekly. I keep track of move-ins and move-outs, births, deaths, etc. Managing phone numbers is a big enough issue that I will treat the matter in a separate post.
While this kind of database upkeep is relatively easy for me, it’s not everyone’s cup of tea. A few years ago, the current bishopric decided to call a guy to take over this duty, since I have other callings that require my time. He was an intelligent man that was devoted to the church.
I developed training materials and loaded the application on this man’s computer. I trained him at his house and over the phone. But after several months, it became clear that this wasn’t a happening thing for him. So I continued doing the job. I think I’d have to develop an entirely new user interface to really make the application work for a non-techie. So far, I haven’t been willing to put that kind of work into it.
My database has evolved over the years to include a variety of information designed to assist the bishopric in developing the quarterly and annual historical reports. But the core remains essentially as I originally designed it.
This Sacrament meeting database has been a boon to my ward’s leaders for a number of years. While I know that the LDS Church is continually updating its computer offerings for local leadership, I haven’t heard about anything on the horizon that would replace my database. So I suspect my application will continue to be used by my ward’s leaders for years to come.
UPDATE 1/14/2017
I have just finished revising the database to be much more streamlined. Since I had become the ward's unofficial historian for many years, I had added some features to the database to assist with ward history. That actually made it pretty messy. It also became clear over time that some database relationships were overly complex.
This new version is much cleaner and simpler. It focuses chiefly on two things: track sacrament meeting program participation and produce useful reports to help ward leaders make decisions about calling people to participate in sacrament meeting programs. I kept a couple of things in the database that aren't essential to this vision. But they are optional and don't have to be used.
Since I haven't upgraded my MS Office subscription, the database was built using MS Access 2010. It should work with any version of MS Access from 2007 onward. It won't work with older MS Access versions without special tools.
Despite simplification, you still need a good working understanding of MS Access to use the database. People with little database savvy will likely find themselves lost. It would be sweet to make the database more user friendly. But I'm just not willing to put that kind of time into it at present.
My current bishopric has me generate the five-year rolling report monthly. I save it as PDF and provide it electronically to each bishopric member. One member of the bishopric asked me about the possibility of making it available as a web page. That would make it much more useful. But I'm simply not willing to deal with the security and confidentiality implications. I don't want to do the work to build a system that would meet Church handbook requirements.
Many have used my database in the past. Some have improved on it. Others have ended up using it as an idea for something that works better for them. I think something along these lines could be helpful to any bishopric that is willing to use it to augment guidance from the Spirit rather than as a way to replace the Spirit.
In these weekly congregational meetings, the prayers, ordinances, sermons, and musical numbers are performed by lay members. Any member of the congregation may be invited to participate. In LDS terminology, these invitations are “callings” extended by the congregational leaders — usually members of the bishopric.
As a busy bishopric member, how do you go about arranging for members to fill these callings in an efficient manner? How do you spread the opportunities around so that you don’t rely on the same people over and over while constantly ignoring others? Technology provided part of the answer for our bishopric.
The main members of an LDS ward bishopric are the bishop and his two counselors. Other members include an executive secretary, a ward clerk, and assistant ward clerks. In our bishopric, Sacrament meeting arrangements fell to the bishop and the counselors. The other bishopric members had their own duties to attend to.
Within weeks of beginning my bishopric calling, I devised two tools that proved immensely helpful to us, especially as time went on. First, I built a spreadsheet that listed the dates of the next year of upcoming Sacrament meeting worship services. I had columns for date, main topic, possible participants, musical numbers, the bishopric member that would conduct, and the bishopric member in charge of making the arrangements.
Every three months, we would sit down as a bishopric and develop pretty solid plans for the upcoming three months, somewhat firm plans for the following quarter, and loose plans for the quarter after that. So our spreadsheet consistently covered nine months. While meeting conducting duties shifted among us from month to month, each of us would take a three-month stint to arrange meetings. This three-month window allowed for flexibility to shift program arrangements around to different weeks, as needed.
This worked well for us. Once we had our plans written down, the arrangements weren’t too difficult to make. Occasionally we’d have to revisit the plan when something didn’t work out as originally charted, but it was rarely a big deal. Each of us would take care of extending meeting participation callings for three months. This was followed by a half a year reprieve from that duty.
My ward’s current bishopric manages this on a month-by-month basis. Each bishopric member arranges and conducts all of the meetings for a given month, and then they’ve got two months off from those duties.
The second tool I developed was a MS Access database that tracks who does what in Sacrament meeting. I populated the people table with pertinent data about each ward member. An association table hooks individuals together in families and provides address and contact info. The Sacrament program table lets me plug in the program date, each participant, and the type of service rendered (i.e. prayer, speech, musical number).
I developed a number of database reports that were useful to the bishopric. The main report lists details about prayers, youth talks, adult talks, and musical numbers. Each of these categories lists participants for the past five years ordered both by least recent date and alphabetically. Each list shows how many times each individual has participated in that activity during the past five years. In addition, the prayer and speech categories list available members that have not participated in that activity for the past five years. (I didn’t do that for musical numbers, because only some are capable of public musical performances.)
After wrapping up my stint in the bishopric, I continued to provide monthly printouts to subsequent bishoprics. This has been considered to be very useful. Some that have found out about my database have expressed concern that bishoprics might rely too heavily on the data instead of inspiration in making assignments. While there is some possibility that this could happen, I have not observed such. Access to historical information tends to augment inspiration rather than replace it.
Of course, all databases are only as useful as the data they contain. Like all other databases, this one needs to be updated continually. That task falls to me as a volunteer effort. I enter Sacrament program data weekly. I keep track of move-ins and move-outs, births, deaths, etc. Managing phone numbers is a big enough issue that I will treat the matter in a separate post.
While this kind of database upkeep is relatively easy for me, it’s not everyone’s cup of tea. A few years ago, the current bishopric decided to call a guy to take over this duty, since I have other callings that require my time. He was an intelligent man that was devoted to the church.
I developed training materials and loaded the application on this man’s computer. I trained him at his house and over the phone. But after several months, it became clear that this wasn’t a happening thing for him. So I continued doing the job. I think I’d have to develop an entirely new user interface to really make the application work for a non-techie. So far, I haven’t been willing to put that kind of work into it.
My database has evolved over the years to include a variety of information designed to assist the bishopric in developing the quarterly and annual historical reports. But the core remains essentially as I originally designed it.
This Sacrament meeting database has been a boon to my ward’s leaders for a number of years. While I know that the LDS Church is continually updating its computer offerings for local leadership, I haven’t heard about anything on the horizon that would replace my database. So I suspect my application will continue to be used by my ward’s leaders for years to come.
UPDATE 1/14/2017
I have just finished revising the database to be much more streamlined. Since I had become the ward's unofficial historian for many years, I had added some features to the database to assist with ward history. That actually made it pretty messy. It also became clear over time that some database relationships were overly complex.
This new version is much cleaner and simpler. It focuses chiefly on two things: track sacrament meeting program participation and produce useful reports to help ward leaders make decisions about calling people to participate in sacrament meeting programs. I kept a couple of things in the database that aren't essential to this vision. But they are optional and don't have to be used.
Since I haven't upgraded my MS Office subscription, the database was built using MS Access 2010. It should work with any version of MS Access from 2007 onward. It won't work with older MS Access versions without special tools.
Despite simplification, you still need a good working understanding of MS Access to use the database. People with little database savvy will likely find themselves lost. It would be sweet to make the database more user friendly. But I'm just not willing to put that kind of time into it at present.
My current bishopric has me generate the five-year rolling report monthly. I save it as PDF and provide it electronically to each bishopric member. One member of the bishopric asked me about the possibility of making it available as a web page. That would make it much more useful. But I'm simply not willing to deal with the security and confidentiality implications. I don't want to do the work to build a system that would meet Church handbook requirements.
Many have used my database in the past. Some have improved on it. Others have ended up using it as an idea for something that works better for them. I think something along these lines could be helpful to any bishopric that is willing to use it to augment guidance from the Spirit rather than as a way to replace the Spirit.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Outdoor Activity Hydration Safety
“Our football coaches used to make us do two-a-days in the hot August sunshine with almost no water. They said that water was bad for football workouts,” my co-worker said. Nowadays that would be considered legally actionable abuse.
Awareness of hydration safety has grown immensely in recent years. Dehydration is now recognized as a serious and potentially life threatening problem. My son’s scoutmaster has a “keep it clear” policy. “If your urine isn’t clear,” he tells the boys, “you’re not drinking enough water.”
We have also become much more aware of water purity issues. Years ago when I worked on Boy Scout camp staff, we would head off on hikes with a small canteen, if we took one at all. We wouldn’t go thirsty. We’d drink from any stream that looked clean. After all, how impure could a wilderness water source be? I did this for years without ever becoming ill.
But cases of infection from backcountry water sources have increased dramatically since those days. Human backcountry use has increased. Domestic and wild animals contaminate water too. Even water bubbling up from the highest altitude sources has been found to carry bacteria, viruses, and/or parasites that are potentially harmful to humans and animals.
A couple of years ago, a friend contracted Giardia after drinking from a mountain stream. He said that the common joke about the condition is accurate. He felt so awful that at first that he was afraid he was going to die. When he felt even worse, he was afraid he wasn’t going to die. Fortunately, a trip to the emergency room had him feeling normal within a day.
Sometimes we scare people so badly with tales of water contamination that we circumvent common sense. Dehydration is a much more immediate threat than waterborne infection. If a hiker is out of water and is thirsty, it’s usually better to drink from an available water source, even if it might carry infectious agents. Time is on your side to get treatment for an infection, while refraining from drinking in such a situation might leave you uninfected but dead.
Last week when I accompanied my son’s scout troop on a 16+ mile hike through the Yellowstone backcountry, I started off with more than a gallon of water and a backpacking water filter pump. My son carried nearly a gallon. Although we would encounter a number of water sources on the hike, we carried enough drinking water for ourselves plus extra for others that might be less prepared.
As it happened, hike day turned out to be overcast and cooler. I consumed less than half of my water on the nine-hour trek. But a couple of weeks earlier when my son and I hiked to Lewis Peak, we encountered another hiker at the peak that had already drunk the pint of water she had brought. As I always carry extra water on hikes, I gave her a quart bottle for the return trip. But I thought her to be irresponsible.
I see people carrying all kinds of pricey water bottles. My requirements for a water bottle include size and sturdiness. It doesn’t have to be fancy. It just has to keep from leaking. Liter-sized Gatorade bottles have tended to work out pretty well for me. But I’ve been known to use two-liter soda bottles.
Personally, I don’t care for CamelBak-type water systems for several reasons. They make my back sweat. Consequently, heat transfers from my body to make the water warm quicker. I guess that’s OK if you enjoy a sweaty back and warm water. The bladders tend to have that nasty plastic taste and they leak far too often. To top it off, I don’t really care to sip when I’m hiking or biking. I like to pause, take a deep drink, and then get back on the trail for a goodly distance before pausing again. But, that’s just me.
I’m glad that proper hydration safety is becoming recognized as an important part of all outdoor activities. From personal experience, I can say that you feel a lot better, can go further, and can do more when you are adequately hydrated. It takes some planning to make sure that you take care of this detail. But it’s an effort that pays off.
Awareness of hydration safety has grown immensely in recent years. Dehydration is now recognized as a serious and potentially life threatening problem. My son’s scoutmaster has a “keep it clear” policy. “If your urine isn’t clear,” he tells the boys, “you’re not drinking enough water.”
We have also become much more aware of water purity issues. Years ago when I worked on Boy Scout camp staff, we would head off on hikes with a small canteen, if we took one at all. We wouldn’t go thirsty. We’d drink from any stream that looked clean. After all, how impure could a wilderness water source be? I did this for years without ever becoming ill.
But cases of infection from backcountry water sources have increased dramatically since those days. Human backcountry use has increased. Domestic and wild animals contaminate water too. Even water bubbling up from the highest altitude sources has been found to carry bacteria, viruses, and/or parasites that are potentially harmful to humans and animals.
A couple of years ago, a friend contracted Giardia after drinking from a mountain stream. He said that the common joke about the condition is accurate. He felt so awful that at first that he was afraid he was going to die. When he felt even worse, he was afraid he wasn’t going to die. Fortunately, a trip to the emergency room had him feeling normal within a day.
Sometimes we scare people so badly with tales of water contamination that we circumvent common sense. Dehydration is a much more immediate threat than waterborne infection. If a hiker is out of water and is thirsty, it’s usually better to drink from an available water source, even if it might carry infectious agents. Time is on your side to get treatment for an infection, while refraining from drinking in such a situation might leave you uninfected but dead.
Last week when I accompanied my son’s scout troop on a 16+ mile hike through the Yellowstone backcountry, I started off with more than a gallon of water and a backpacking water filter pump. My son carried nearly a gallon. Although we would encounter a number of water sources on the hike, we carried enough drinking water for ourselves plus extra for others that might be less prepared.
As it happened, hike day turned out to be overcast and cooler. I consumed less than half of my water on the nine-hour trek. But a couple of weeks earlier when my son and I hiked to Lewis Peak, we encountered another hiker at the peak that had already drunk the pint of water she had brought. As I always carry extra water on hikes, I gave her a quart bottle for the return trip. But I thought her to be irresponsible.
I see people carrying all kinds of pricey water bottles. My requirements for a water bottle include size and sturdiness. It doesn’t have to be fancy. It just has to keep from leaking. Liter-sized Gatorade bottles have tended to work out pretty well for me. But I’ve been known to use two-liter soda bottles.
Personally, I don’t care for CamelBak-type water systems for several reasons. They make my back sweat. Consequently, heat transfers from my body to make the water warm quicker. I guess that’s OK if you enjoy a sweaty back and warm water. The bladders tend to have that nasty plastic taste and they leak far too often. To top it off, I don’t really care to sip when I’m hiking or biking. I like to pause, take a deep drink, and then get back on the trail for a goodly distance before pausing again. But, that’s just me.
I’m glad that proper hydration safety is becoming recognized as an important part of all outdoor activities. From personal experience, I can say that you feel a lot better, can go further, and can do more when you are adequately hydrated. It takes some planning to make sure that you take care of this detail. But it’s an effort that pays off.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
I Never Knew My Grandpa (part 2)
In my last post I wrote about what happened when my paternal grandfather passed away. That got me to thinking about my maternal grandfather, who passed away a few months before I was born. As I pondered my Grandpa, I came to realize that I have never had much respect for the man; a realization that rather surprised me.
Decades after his passing, it turns out that I really don’t know much about Grandpa. And most of what I do know seems to emphasize differences rather than resemblances. For example, I know that Grandpa loved to hunt and fish. He was never overly concerned about governmentally established seasons, limits, and licensing regarding these activities. While I have grown to enjoy hiking and camping, I am not and never have been much of a hunter or angler. It’s just not my thing.
I think that I have probably harbored a lifelong resentment of Grandpa because he had the audacity to die before I could spend any time with him in this life. Somehow this left me feeling deprived as a child. To top it off, he effectively smoked himself to death because he was apparently too addicted to give up tobacco. In my young mind, Grandpa’s irresponsibility denied me the opportunity to associate with him. It is likely that I have never quite gotten over this resentment.
A decade ago at a family reunion, one of my older cousins related the story of how he and a couple of my other cousins decided to try smoking tobacco out behind Grandpa’s barn when they were quite young. He said that Grandpa caught them and gave them the severest tongue lashing he had ever experienced. Grandpa explained to them how horribly addicting tobacco was and how much he wished he could rid himself of the habit.
My grandparents started out in Illinois. Like many of their era, they migrated westward over time. After spending a number of years in Nebraska, they ended up in a sparsely populated region of northern Wyoming. They were always farmers. Grandpa supplemented this with other trades, including working in the oil fields. He was kind of short and wiry. Someone once said he was a good worker.
Mom has never told me a whole lot about her father. When I was young, the only pictures I saw of Grandpa depicted him dying of cancer. Other pictures surfaced when I was a young adult (probably because my uncle was a professional photographer). Eventually Mom hung an enlarged and framed copy of her parents’ wedding certificate on the wall of her bedroom. The certificate included photos of Grandma and Grandpa in their prime. They made a handsome couple.
My Dad came from Germany, where the frontier had been eradicated centuries earlier. After he and Mom wed, they drove up to northern Wyoming to see her parents. Dad was stunned by the drive. It is one thing to see the road on a map and an entirely different thing to actually traverse hundreds of miles of desolate prairies. Dad had never even imagined that such vast stretches of bleakness existed.
Dad was shocked to see his new in-laws’ primitive living conditions. They lived in a rundown “tar paper shack,” he said. The only decent furnishings in the place had been gifts from my Mom. Their “farm” was a rather ramshackle arrangement. Nobody had lived like that in Germany for centuries. Grandpa was older and in declining health by this time. Dad’s observation was that the man did nothing but sit around the house reading cowboy novels and smoking.
Mom said that Dad’s descriptions were exaggerations, probably amplified by the fact that he was used to living in a fairly urbanized culture. But then a few years ago, my uncle found and distributed photographs of the family from when Mom was young. Mom didn’t like the photos of the family standing in front of the old house. “It looks like the Grapes of Wrath,” she said. “It WAS the Grapes of Wrath,” Dad replied.
This is about the extent of my knowledge of Grandpa. I have little awareness of his better qualities. On the other hand, Grandpa helped raise my Mom, whom I greatly love and respect. Most of Mom’s siblings have passed on, but I admire some of their qualities too. And I definitely think highly of the character of some of their children, who are my cousins. Grandpa must have had something to do with this.
We all have our positive and negative traits. I shouldn’t be so hasty to dismiss Grandpa for his perceived faults. I am not called to be his judge. Perhaps some of my finest characteristics are derived from the way he raised his family. And no matter what, he’s still my Grandpa. Perhaps the opportunity will arise for me to get to know him in the next life.
Decades after his passing, it turns out that I really don’t know much about Grandpa. And most of what I do know seems to emphasize differences rather than resemblances. For example, I know that Grandpa loved to hunt and fish. He was never overly concerned about governmentally established seasons, limits, and licensing regarding these activities. While I have grown to enjoy hiking and camping, I am not and never have been much of a hunter or angler. It’s just not my thing.
I think that I have probably harbored a lifelong resentment of Grandpa because he had the audacity to die before I could spend any time with him in this life. Somehow this left me feeling deprived as a child. To top it off, he effectively smoked himself to death because he was apparently too addicted to give up tobacco. In my young mind, Grandpa’s irresponsibility denied me the opportunity to associate with him. It is likely that I have never quite gotten over this resentment.
A decade ago at a family reunion, one of my older cousins related the story of how he and a couple of my other cousins decided to try smoking tobacco out behind Grandpa’s barn when they were quite young. He said that Grandpa caught them and gave them the severest tongue lashing he had ever experienced. Grandpa explained to them how horribly addicting tobacco was and how much he wished he could rid himself of the habit.
My grandparents started out in Illinois. Like many of their era, they migrated westward over time. After spending a number of years in Nebraska, they ended up in a sparsely populated region of northern Wyoming. They were always farmers. Grandpa supplemented this with other trades, including working in the oil fields. He was kind of short and wiry. Someone once said he was a good worker.
Mom has never told me a whole lot about her father. When I was young, the only pictures I saw of Grandpa depicted him dying of cancer. Other pictures surfaced when I was a young adult (probably because my uncle was a professional photographer). Eventually Mom hung an enlarged and framed copy of her parents’ wedding certificate on the wall of her bedroom. The certificate included photos of Grandma and Grandpa in their prime. They made a handsome couple.
My Dad came from Germany, where the frontier had been eradicated centuries earlier. After he and Mom wed, they drove up to northern Wyoming to see her parents. Dad was stunned by the drive. It is one thing to see the road on a map and an entirely different thing to actually traverse hundreds of miles of desolate prairies. Dad had never even imagined that such vast stretches of bleakness existed.
Dad was shocked to see his new in-laws’ primitive living conditions. They lived in a rundown “tar paper shack,” he said. The only decent furnishings in the place had been gifts from my Mom. Their “farm” was a rather ramshackle arrangement. Nobody had lived like that in Germany for centuries. Grandpa was older and in declining health by this time. Dad’s observation was that the man did nothing but sit around the house reading cowboy novels and smoking.
Mom said that Dad’s descriptions were exaggerations, probably amplified by the fact that he was used to living in a fairly urbanized culture. But then a few years ago, my uncle found and distributed photographs of the family from when Mom was young. Mom didn’t like the photos of the family standing in front of the old house. “It looks like the Grapes of Wrath,” she said. “It WAS the Grapes of Wrath,” Dad replied.
This is about the extent of my knowledge of Grandpa. I have little awareness of his better qualities. On the other hand, Grandpa helped raise my Mom, whom I greatly love and respect. Most of Mom’s siblings have passed on, but I admire some of their qualities too. And I definitely think highly of the character of some of their children, who are my cousins. Grandpa must have had something to do with this.
We all have our positive and negative traits. I shouldn’t be so hasty to dismiss Grandpa for his perceived faults. I am not called to be his judge. Perhaps some of my finest characteristics are derived from the way he raised his family. And no matter what, he’s still my Grandpa. Perhaps the opportunity will arise for me to get to know him in the next life.
I Never Knew My Grandpa
I never met either of my grandfathers. One died of cancer a few months before I was born. The other lived in Germany. When I was 14, my German grandpa (“Opa”) died after having suffered a stroke. I had chatted briefly with him on the phone a few times over the years, but I had never met him.
Back in those days, communication with Europe was far more expensive than it is today. We would generally talk on the phone with my German grandparents on Christmas and maybe a couple of other times each year. But my German was pretty rudimentary and my grandparents spoke no English. So the phone conversations mostly involved my parents.
Travel to Europe was pretty expensive back then as well. After years of saving, my parents finally managed to scrape together enough money to visit the relatives in Germany when I was eight. This was made possible thanks to good neighbors that took each of us kids into their homes for several weeks while my parents were away.
Over the next few years, my parents communicated fairly regularly with the German family members; mostly by mail, but also by phone calls. Still, it was not uncommon for lapses in communication to extend several months at a time. Given our family’s budget, travel to Germany was out of the question.
Late in my 15th summer, my Dad received a letter from his sister. She explained that my Opa had passed away about a month earlier. Dad was stunned. He couldn’t understand why nobody had bothered to call him. He would have moved heaven and earth to attend the funeral, but he didn’t even know about it.
At the time, I didn’t really understand what the big deal was. Dad’s location in America seemed to work pretty well with regard to family relationships. He always said that he “felt like a fish out of water” in his own family and that moving to America had improved the relationship. In other words, he wasn’t that close with his parents and siblings.
But the failure of Dad’s mother and siblings to immediately notify him of his own father’s death left him with a terrible sense of betrayal. As is the common nature of grief, I’m sure that this was mingled with a certain amount of guilt. As a self absorbed and callow teenager, I didn’t appreciate what Dad was going through. I figured that my 75-year-old Opa was so ancient that he was bound to kick off sooner or later. What was the big deal? (By the way, 75 no longer looks so terribly old to me.)
I think you only really gain some comprehension of these kinds of things by experiencing them yourself. While most of us expect to deal with the deaths of our parents, their unexpected passing can leave us grappling with the raw edge of grief. The standard steps in the grieving process necessarily follow at their own pace.
On the other hand, I watched Dad decline for a year and a half until he mercifully passed away. By that time, most of the family members had already been going through the stages of grief for some time. We were prepared for the impending closure.
When we met with the funeral director a short time after Dad’s body was picked up, we already had the obituary written and the funeral program planned. The director noted that we seemed relatively relaxed about the affair. But I think we had all simply been through most of the grieving process by then.
About three years after Opa passed away, my brother finished serving a mission for the LDS Church in another part of Germany. He then traveled and spent some time with our German relatives. They loved it, especially given the fact that my brother could speak fluent German. This helped heal some of the rift that existed between Dad and his family.
A couple of years later, another brother wrapped up his mission in Finland. He too wanted to visit our German relatives. But he was fluent in Finnish, not German. So Mom and Dad arranged to travel to Germany to be with him. It had been a dozen years since their previous visit. My youngest brother went along too. This visit helped further repair relations. By the time I visited two years later, following my mission to Norway, family relationships were in pretty good shape.
Family structures are a deeply important part of our societies. Most of us sense a deep attachment to our family members, even if there are significant differences between us. I never knew either of my grandfathers. Yet, because of the children that they raised, I feel like I know them somewhat. And I still feel a profound sense of connection with them.
Back in those days, communication with Europe was far more expensive than it is today. We would generally talk on the phone with my German grandparents on Christmas and maybe a couple of other times each year. But my German was pretty rudimentary and my grandparents spoke no English. So the phone conversations mostly involved my parents.
Travel to Europe was pretty expensive back then as well. After years of saving, my parents finally managed to scrape together enough money to visit the relatives in Germany when I was eight. This was made possible thanks to good neighbors that took each of us kids into their homes for several weeks while my parents were away.
Over the next few years, my parents communicated fairly regularly with the German family members; mostly by mail, but also by phone calls. Still, it was not uncommon for lapses in communication to extend several months at a time. Given our family’s budget, travel to Germany was out of the question.
Late in my 15th summer, my Dad received a letter from his sister. She explained that my Opa had passed away about a month earlier. Dad was stunned. He couldn’t understand why nobody had bothered to call him. He would have moved heaven and earth to attend the funeral, but he didn’t even know about it.
At the time, I didn’t really understand what the big deal was. Dad’s location in America seemed to work pretty well with regard to family relationships. He always said that he “felt like a fish out of water” in his own family and that moving to America had improved the relationship. In other words, he wasn’t that close with his parents and siblings.
But the failure of Dad’s mother and siblings to immediately notify him of his own father’s death left him with a terrible sense of betrayal. As is the common nature of grief, I’m sure that this was mingled with a certain amount of guilt. As a self absorbed and callow teenager, I didn’t appreciate what Dad was going through. I figured that my 75-year-old Opa was so ancient that he was bound to kick off sooner or later. What was the big deal? (By the way, 75 no longer looks so terribly old to me.)
I think you only really gain some comprehension of these kinds of things by experiencing them yourself. While most of us expect to deal with the deaths of our parents, their unexpected passing can leave us grappling with the raw edge of grief. The standard steps in the grieving process necessarily follow at their own pace.
On the other hand, I watched Dad decline for a year and a half until he mercifully passed away. By that time, most of the family members had already been going through the stages of grief for some time. We were prepared for the impending closure.
When we met with the funeral director a short time after Dad’s body was picked up, we already had the obituary written and the funeral program planned. The director noted that we seemed relatively relaxed about the affair. But I think we had all simply been through most of the grieving process by then.
About three years after Opa passed away, my brother finished serving a mission for the LDS Church in another part of Germany. He then traveled and spent some time with our German relatives. They loved it, especially given the fact that my brother could speak fluent German. This helped heal some of the rift that existed between Dad and his family.
A couple of years later, another brother wrapped up his mission in Finland. He too wanted to visit our German relatives. But he was fluent in Finnish, not German. So Mom and Dad arranged to travel to Germany to be with him. It had been a dozen years since their previous visit. My youngest brother went along too. This visit helped further repair relations. By the time I visited two years later, following my mission to Norway, family relationships were in pretty good shape.
Family structures are a deeply important part of our societies. Most of us sense a deep attachment to our family members, even if there are significant differences between us. I never knew either of my grandfathers. Yet, because of the children that they raised, I feel like I know them somewhat. And I still feel a profound sense of connection with them.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Sacrificing for the Best Week
“This has pretty much been the best week of my life,” my son said as we sat around the campfire one night late last week. We had left in the dark early on Monday morning to drive to Camp Loll, a Boy Scout camp sandwiched in the wilderness between Grand Teton and Yellowstone National Parks. My son’s comment made me realize that taking a week of precious vacation time to live in the dirt and sleep on the ground at scout camp was definitely worth the sacrifice.
I have a deep fondness for Camp Loll. It was the first scout camp that I attended as a 12-year-old boy. As an older teen, I worked on staff at the camp for a couple of years. As an adult, I have frequently returned to the place with scout troops, to volunteer my labor, or just to visit. No matter when I visit, I always encounter old friends and find opportunities to make new friends.
Since I sometimes haul family members with me on my visits to Camp Loll, last week was not my son’s first adventure there. But it was the first time he had spent an entire week at the camp with his peers in his scout troop. And that makes all the difference.
It would have been difficult to get better weather conditions than we had at camp last week. Monday and Tuesday were spectacularly beautiful days. The sunny and cloudless sky was such a deep blue hue that it seemed stunning every time I looked up through the towering spruce trees. Friday and Saturday shared these same characteristics.
It was overcast and just a little rainy on Wednesday when we trekked 16 miles through the Yellowstone back country to visit Union Falls, a spectacular phenomenon that is viewed by only a minute fraction of those that visit the park. But temperatures were great for hiking, and the trails never got muddy. Thursday was filled with variable periods of clouds and sun, but it was never unpleasant. It was almost a perfect weather week.
We started our week at Camp Loll by setting up our campsite and then undertaking the BSA swim check in the infamously icy cold waters of Lake of the Woods. My son is a pretty good swimmer and recently completed a junior lifeguarding course. Showing off for his friends, he swam 200 yards instead of the required 100 yards.
During our battles with the notoriously fierce mosquitoes of the region, my son sustained over 120 bites. I had my share of bites, but I did better at protecting myself with repellant and thicker clothing. I was fortunate enough to avoid bites from the nasty horseflies, which were just starting to proliferate last week. We did, however, succeed in killing a number of those relatively slow and bulky insects.
I was proud of my son as I watched him complete the challenging Climbing merit badge in record time. He also completed one of the four historical merit badges that have been brought back for this year to celebrate the BSA’s centennial, as well as a couple of other challenging badges. (He already has all of the badges he needs to achieve the Eagle rank.)
One of the main facets of spending a week at scout camp is for a boy to interface with his peers in a shared camping experience. It is difficult to place a value on the development of camaraderie afforded by this environment.
Of additional value is interacting with hundreds of boys from other troops. The boys at camp last week spanned various social and economic classes. One troop was from Texas. Another was from Las Vegas. But all these distinctions largely fell away when the boys were participating in merit badge classes and activities together.
Yet another value taught through this kind of experience is appreciation for our wilderness and back country resources. I will be among the first to admit that Boy Scout units have a well earned reputation for careless use of these resources. But we’ve been steadily improving since my early camping days, as we purposefully work to train and educate leaders and youth in proper care of our precious wilderness.
Nothing helps this education process more than spending a week camping in bear country, where mistakes can threaten life and limb. Doing this helps young Americans learn to respect rather than fear the wilderness. While it may take a generation to root out retrograde practices, actual wilderness experience is an unsurpassed teaching tool.
One BSA value that was on full display last week was the proud and unabashed belief in American exceptionalism. Patriotism was purposefully encouraged and love of country was decisively evoked. Youth and adults came away with an enhanced appreciation for the blessings derived from being Americans.
I also like to think that part of my son’s enjoyment of his week at camp was the fact that his Dad was there to share it with him. I viscerally sense the pros and cons of having a parent at camp with his adolescent child. After all, the kid needs to be learning to operate on his own outside of the parent’s direct influence.
On the other hand, what a wonderful thing for a child to know that a parent cares enough to share this kind of experience with him. There’s no perfect answer to this dilemma. I chose to share this experience with my son, as I have done with his older brothers. It was the right choice for us.
As a side note, I wore an old pair of cheap Wal-Mart hiking boots throughout the week. I think I paid $16 for them five or six years ago. I stopped wearing them a couple of years ago when I got a much nicer and more rugged pair of waterproof boots. At an event a couple of months ago, I sensed my feet getting tired in the better boots, so I mostly used the old boots last week. The cheap old boots along with good hiking socks wore well, but I can tell that they will soon need to be permanently retired.
We returned home on Saturday a little sunburned, a little mosquito-bitten, a little sore, a little weary, and a little dirty. But for my son, the week had been a little bit of heaven. I’m glad I was part of it.
I have a deep fondness for Camp Loll. It was the first scout camp that I attended as a 12-year-old boy. As an older teen, I worked on staff at the camp for a couple of years. As an adult, I have frequently returned to the place with scout troops, to volunteer my labor, or just to visit. No matter when I visit, I always encounter old friends and find opportunities to make new friends.
Since I sometimes haul family members with me on my visits to Camp Loll, last week was not my son’s first adventure there. But it was the first time he had spent an entire week at the camp with his peers in his scout troop. And that makes all the difference.
It would have been difficult to get better weather conditions than we had at camp last week. Monday and Tuesday were spectacularly beautiful days. The sunny and cloudless sky was such a deep blue hue that it seemed stunning every time I looked up through the towering spruce trees. Friday and Saturday shared these same characteristics.
It was overcast and just a little rainy on Wednesday when we trekked 16 miles through the Yellowstone back country to visit Union Falls, a spectacular phenomenon that is viewed by only a minute fraction of those that visit the park. But temperatures were great for hiking, and the trails never got muddy. Thursday was filled with variable periods of clouds and sun, but it was never unpleasant. It was almost a perfect weather week.
We started our week at Camp Loll by setting up our campsite and then undertaking the BSA swim check in the infamously icy cold waters of Lake of the Woods. My son is a pretty good swimmer and recently completed a junior lifeguarding course. Showing off for his friends, he swam 200 yards instead of the required 100 yards.
During our battles with the notoriously fierce mosquitoes of the region, my son sustained over 120 bites. I had my share of bites, but I did better at protecting myself with repellant and thicker clothing. I was fortunate enough to avoid bites from the nasty horseflies, which were just starting to proliferate last week. We did, however, succeed in killing a number of those relatively slow and bulky insects.
I was proud of my son as I watched him complete the challenging Climbing merit badge in record time. He also completed one of the four historical merit badges that have been brought back for this year to celebrate the BSA’s centennial, as well as a couple of other challenging badges. (He already has all of the badges he needs to achieve the Eagle rank.)
One of the main facets of spending a week at scout camp is for a boy to interface with his peers in a shared camping experience. It is difficult to place a value on the development of camaraderie afforded by this environment.
Of additional value is interacting with hundreds of boys from other troops. The boys at camp last week spanned various social and economic classes. One troop was from Texas. Another was from Las Vegas. But all these distinctions largely fell away when the boys were participating in merit badge classes and activities together.
Yet another value taught through this kind of experience is appreciation for our wilderness and back country resources. I will be among the first to admit that Boy Scout units have a well earned reputation for careless use of these resources. But we’ve been steadily improving since my early camping days, as we purposefully work to train and educate leaders and youth in proper care of our precious wilderness.
Nothing helps this education process more than spending a week camping in bear country, where mistakes can threaten life and limb. Doing this helps young Americans learn to respect rather than fear the wilderness. While it may take a generation to root out retrograde practices, actual wilderness experience is an unsurpassed teaching tool.
One BSA value that was on full display last week was the proud and unabashed belief in American exceptionalism. Patriotism was purposefully encouraged and love of country was decisively evoked. Youth and adults came away with an enhanced appreciation for the blessings derived from being Americans.
I also like to think that part of my son’s enjoyment of his week at camp was the fact that his Dad was there to share it with him. I viscerally sense the pros and cons of having a parent at camp with his adolescent child. After all, the kid needs to be learning to operate on his own outside of the parent’s direct influence.
On the other hand, what a wonderful thing for a child to know that a parent cares enough to share this kind of experience with him. There’s no perfect answer to this dilemma. I chose to share this experience with my son, as I have done with his older brothers. It was the right choice for us.
As a side note, I wore an old pair of cheap Wal-Mart hiking boots throughout the week. I think I paid $16 for them five or six years ago. I stopped wearing them a couple of years ago when I got a much nicer and more rugged pair of waterproof boots. At an event a couple of months ago, I sensed my feet getting tired in the better boots, so I mostly used the old boots last week. The cheap old boots along with good hiking socks wore well, but I can tell that they will soon need to be permanently retired.
We returned home on Saturday a little sunburned, a little mosquito-bitten, a little sore, a little weary, and a little dirty. But for my son, the week had been a little bit of heaven. I’m glad I was part of it.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
It's Time to Stop Goody Tossing at the Parade
One of the great things about living in North Ogden is my city’s annual Independence Day celebration. While the size of the celebration has grown over my lifetime, it still enjoys a hometown feeling.
Each year we make an effort to get to the parade. Both sides of the main street are lined with viewers. There are usually about 100-120 entries in the parade. You see the same kind of entries year after year: a Boy Scout troop carrying the American Flag, the city’s emergency vehicles, the high school band, local politicians, vintage cars, high school and junior high sports teams and cheerleaders, small businesses, church groups, horse riders, local clubs, etc.
There used to always be a Shriner chapter that had a band playing Middle Eastern music and men driving these crazy little cars. I haven’t seen them for a few years. A few entries come and go each year. There are fewer horse groups than when I was a kid, but the essential nature of the parade entries is not much different than it was decades ago.
Over the past two decades, however, I have noticed a marked increase in one parade activity that used to be rare. Years ago, small pieces of candy would occasionally be tossed from parade entries to viewers on the side of the road. When my oldest kids were young, a kid at the parade might hope to get two or three pieces of some kind of taffy.
The practice of throwing treats to the crowd at the parade has steadily proliferated over the years. Nowadays it is rare to see a parade entry that is not tossing some kind of goody into the crowd. It’s mostly candy, but there are also T-shirts, balls, flying discs, refrigerator magnets, popsicles, water bottles, coupons, and more.
No doubt this practice adds to the fun and excitement of the event for many parade goers. But it has spawned crowd behavior that is problematic. In days of yore, children used to occasionally dash a few feet from the curb to gather candy on the pavement. Now, crowds of children spanning the entire mile-long route surge further and further into the road each year. Carrying bags like Halloween trick-or-treaters, they sometimes go right up to the passing vehicles.
This is an injury waiting to happen. It’s amazing that we have not yet experienced a headline grabbing incident as the result of this practice. I guess it’s a good thing that there are emergency responders in the parade, but the issue should never have reached this level.
In an effort to counteract this increasing problem, the city this year enlisted a number of motorcycle and bicycle cops and an entire LDS stake of volunteers clad in emergency vests. While the cops rode up and down the parade route encouraging people to stay back, the volunteers on foot each patrolled a segment of about 50 feet of road front.
The police officers and the volunteers were overcome by the crowd simply ignoring them. Children, often with the encouragement of their parents or even with their parents in tow, surged around the would-be protectors to approach the goody distributors.
Beside the safety issue presented by the goody distribution practice, the parade viewing experience is marred for those that play by the rules and stay back at the curb. Their view of the parade is now obstructed by throngs of youth standing in the street in front of them.
In recent years, the city has developed rules for parade entrants and viewers. Officially, entrants are not supposed to toss anything to the crowd. It’s OK for them to have people on foot that walk along and hand items to parade attendees. But nobody is supposed to toss anything. Despite putting this rule on paper, it has never been enforced in any meaningful way.
I like to have fun as much as the next guy. And I like it when the children have fun. But the goody tossing at our local parade has reached the point that it is out of control. I can think of only two ways to effectively deal with this issue. They could be implemented separately or together. But it is unfortunate that either should be needed at all.
The least expensive method is to play the heavy. Simply prohibit the practice of distributing anything of any kind by parade entrants. Create an actual statute and make it clear to entrants that it will be strictly enforced. Then have police along the route actually issue citations to violators. This may seem nasty and harsh to parade goers. But what else are you going to do?
The city could also do what many other cities have done: incur the expense of putting up crowd barriers all along the route. In most places, this consists of stringing bright colored rope held up by temporary stanchions. It’s amazing how well a flimsy physical barrier of this nature actually works.
But if crowd barriers are put up without eliminating goody tossing, it will do little to solve the visibility problem. Crowds of standing people would push up against the barriers, obstructing the view of those behind them. The surging crowds would also endanger the safety of the small children among them.
It seems that crowd barriers would be unnecessary in North Ogden if the practice of distributing items from parade entrants were eliminated. How many would venture out into the street if there were no goodies to be gathered? Most would simply sit on the sidelines like they used to years ago. At any rate, prohibition of the practice could be tried first before spending anything on crowd barriers.
Are there other suggestions for feasible solutions to this problem?
Each year we make an effort to get to the parade. Both sides of the main street are lined with viewers. There are usually about 100-120 entries in the parade. You see the same kind of entries year after year: a Boy Scout troop carrying the American Flag, the city’s emergency vehicles, the high school band, local politicians, vintage cars, high school and junior high sports teams and cheerleaders, small businesses, church groups, horse riders, local clubs, etc.
There used to always be a Shriner chapter that had a band playing Middle Eastern music and men driving these crazy little cars. I haven’t seen them for a few years. A few entries come and go each year. There are fewer horse groups than when I was a kid, but the essential nature of the parade entries is not much different than it was decades ago.
Over the past two decades, however, I have noticed a marked increase in one parade activity that used to be rare. Years ago, small pieces of candy would occasionally be tossed from parade entries to viewers on the side of the road. When my oldest kids were young, a kid at the parade might hope to get two or three pieces of some kind of taffy.
The practice of throwing treats to the crowd at the parade has steadily proliferated over the years. Nowadays it is rare to see a parade entry that is not tossing some kind of goody into the crowd. It’s mostly candy, but there are also T-shirts, balls, flying discs, refrigerator magnets, popsicles, water bottles, coupons, and more.
No doubt this practice adds to the fun and excitement of the event for many parade goers. But it has spawned crowd behavior that is problematic. In days of yore, children used to occasionally dash a few feet from the curb to gather candy on the pavement. Now, crowds of children spanning the entire mile-long route surge further and further into the road each year. Carrying bags like Halloween trick-or-treaters, they sometimes go right up to the passing vehicles.
This is an injury waiting to happen. It’s amazing that we have not yet experienced a headline grabbing incident as the result of this practice. I guess it’s a good thing that there are emergency responders in the parade, but the issue should never have reached this level.
In an effort to counteract this increasing problem, the city this year enlisted a number of motorcycle and bicycle cops and an entire LDS stake of volunteers clad in emergency vests. While the cops rode up and down the parade route encouraging people to stay back, the volunteers on foot each patrolled a segment of about 50 feet of road front.
The police officers and the volunteers were overcome by the crowd simply ignoring them. Children, often with the encouragement of their parents or even with their parents in tow, surged around the would-be protectors to approach the goody distributors.
Beside the safety issue presented by the goody distribution practice, the parade viewing experience is marred for those that play by the rules and stay back at the curb. Their view of the parade is now obstructed by throngs of youth standing in the street in front of them.
In recent years, the city has developed rules for parade entrants and viewers. Officially, entrants are not supposed to toss anything to the crowd. It’s OK for them to have people on foot that walk along and hand items to parade attendees. But nobody is supposed to toss anything. Despite putting this rule on paper, it has never been enforced in any meaningful way.
I like to have fun as much as the next guy. And I like it when the children have fun. But the goody tossing at our local parade has reached the point that it is out of control. I can think of only two ways to effectively deal with this issue. They could be implemented separately or together. But it is unfortunate that either should be needed at all.
The least expensive method is to play the heavy. Simply prohibit the practice of distributing anything of any kind by parade entrants. Create an actual statute and make it clear to entrants that it will be strictly enforced. Then have police along the route actually issue citations to violators. This may seem nasty and harsh to parade goers. But what else are you going to do?
The city could also do what many other cities have done: incur the expense of putting up crowd barriers all along the route. In most places, this consists of stringing bright colored rope held up by temporary stanchions. It’s amazing how well a flimsy physical barrier of this nature actually works.
But if crowd barriers are put up without eliminating goody tossing, it will do little to solve the visibility problem. Crowds of standing people would push up against the barriers, obstructing the view of those behind them. The surging crowds would also endanger the safety of the small children among them.
It seems that crowd barriers would be unnecessary in North Ogden if the practice of distributing items from parade entrants were eliminated. How many would venture out into the street if there were no goodies to be gathered? Most would simply sit on the sidelines like they used to years ago. At any rate, prohibition of the practice could be tried first before spending anything on crowd barriers.
Are there other suggestions for feasible solutions to this problem?
Monday, July 12, 2010
A Visit to Utah's Only Real Amusement Park
Our family recently spent a day at the Lagoon amusement park. This was not a new adventure. Lagoon has been around for more than a century and I’ve been visiting the place since I was a little kid.
Back in those days they had no all-day passes. People came and went from the park at will. But everything you there did cost money. You’d buy a sheet of tickets. Each ride had a sign stating the number of tickets required. (That tradition continues to this day, despite the fact that it means nothing under the current system.)
After waiting in line, you’d rip off the specified number of tickets, hand them to the attendant, and climb on the ride. As kids we memorized the phrase uttered by almost all ride operators before starting the contraption: “Keep your arms, head, and legs inside the car at all times and have fun.”
Some of my favorite attractions from my younger days are long gone. I spent plenty of time at the Fun House, with its entry maze, tilted room, spinning tunnel, high slides, spinning disc, and spinning whirlpool. I was scared beyond belief the first time I actually rode the Roll-O-Plane. I rode the aging ride a few years ago, a few months before the frame cracked and the ride was deemed irreparable.
They used to have these swinging cages that were run by human power. I thought those were cool. There was the old rocket ride that sat where the Turn of the Century swings are today, and the paddle boats on the lake. The Hammer was fun. Or at least it was fun to get off and say that you’d ridden it. The old Haunted Shack walk-through spook alley was kind of fun.
When I was a teenager, they had a ride that was like a big spinning canister. You’d stand against the wall. The ride would spin faster and faster until centrifugal force pinned you against the wall. Then the floor would drop away and you’d be suspended against the wall. I liked the ride, but I guess it was too dangerous. I used to enjoy playing SkeeBall on the midway.
I’m glad that some attractions are gone. I hated those hand powered rail devices that were reminiscent of tricycles. I’d always get queasy when riding the Magic Carpet. It was a good thing that they eventually closed down the old swimming pool. It might have been grand in the 1940s, but it was decrepit by the time it closed. Lagoon-A-Beach water park is far better.
Today’s Wild Mouse is much better than the one it replaced. Today’s gas-powered go-carts are a far cry from the old center-rail gas-powered cars. But you have to pay extra to drive or ride in the newer go-carts. I also worry about the workers there. The fumes produced by the car engines are significant.
Many attractions from my younger days are still there. The old “white” roller coaster is still somewhat harrowing to ride because it is so bumpy. Some of today’s kiddie rides are the same ones I rode as a child.
Some attractions have changed over the years — some for the better and some less so. The kiddie land is much better than it was years ago. Pioneer Village has been improved. But some of what I thought were the best features of Dracula’s Castle have been replaced by much more benign elements. They used to do great street shows in Pioneer Village but you never see those anymore.
For the last dozen or so years, Lagoon has focused on fairly significant annual improvements. Some of the rides added during this time are intense. The Wicked coaster, installed in 2007, is highly innovative and exhilarating — and/or terrifying, depending on your point of view.
The interactive fountain was a good addition. Unlike when I was a kid, Lagoon now has so many attractions designed to get you wet that you’d be well advised to dress in anticipation of this before heading off to the park.
One of my fondest memories is when my grandmother rode the Colossus while visiting from Germany. She was in her 80s at the time. As instructed, she removed her glasses before the ride started. After we got off the ride, my brother asked her how she liked going upside down twice. “We were upside down?!” she exclaimed. “But I didn’t see it!” she complained. She had to ride again. Only this time she firmly held her spectacles in place so that she could see what was happening. She was thrilled.
Going to Lagoon with the family is easier for us than it used to be, now that we no longer have toddlers. We still end up splitting up because different ages of kids have different interests. It has been years since I returned from Lagoon without at least one child holding some kind of stuffed toy gleaned (at much higher cost than it was worth) from some midway game. Like we don’t have enough stuffed critters at our house.
Like all amusement parks, the food at Lagoon is pricey. Some might complain that it’s of marginal quality too. But it’s really not too bad, as far as amusement park food goes. Tickets for a ride pass are pretty pricey too. We don’t go to Lagoon without some kind of discount. Fortunately, discount coupons are fairly widely available.
Many of the people milling around the park are school-age kids. For the price of a couple of daily passes, parents can buy a season pass for their child. Many adolescents with such passes roam the park unsupervised in packs. Far be it from me to judge another’s parenting, but I would never get my child a season pass to Lagoon. The behavior I see among the kids with such passes is not something I’d want my children to emulate.
Perhaps the greatest pastime at Lagoon is watching other park patrons. An uncanny number of them appear to be current carnival side show attractions or possibly asylum escapees. It is not unusual to see youth dress and groom bizarrely. They are naturally at a stage where they are exploring their identities. I was, however, surprised at the number of fairly young girls that wore pierced nose jewels. I guess that the boys they hope to attract find this kind of thing attractive.
More eye opening are the seasoned adults that look like they’re still trying to rebel against their parents. While I saw no legal statute violated, some people that should know better certainly were in violation of the laws of good taste and common courtesy.
What possesses a 5’4” 300-lb woman in her late 40s to think that it’s acceptable to go out in public in shorts and a teeny-bopper shirt that brazenly exposes most of her, uh, ample upper body? And, honestly, some people that visit the water park should, before donning swimwear, consider the fact that others around them might have recently eaten.
Lagoon is a great place to go if you want to see what a tattoo is going to look like on wrinkly, puffy middle-aged skin. Or what body piercings are going to look like when you’re in your 50s. As I scanned the park, it seemed to me that the majority of the folks there were members of the dependent class rather than the productive class.
Still, we enjoyed our visit to the noisy amusement park. We were also happy to head home at the end of the day. I was particularly pleased to walk to the vehicle without having to tote a cross or sleeping child.
Back in those days they had no all-day passes. People came and went from the park at will. But everything you there did cost money. You’d buy a sheet of tickets. Each ride had a sign stating the number of tickets required. (That tradition continues to this day, despite the fact that it means nothing under the current system.)
After waiting in line, you’d rip off the specified number of tickets, hand them to the attendant, and climb on the ride. As kids we memorized the phrase uttered by almost all ride operators before starting the contraption: “Keep your arms, head, and legs inside the car at all times and have fun.”
Some of my favorite attractions from my younger days are long gone. I spent plenty of time at the Fun House, with its entry maze, tilted room, spinning tunnel, high slides, spinning disc, and spinning whirlpool. I was scared beyond belief the first time I actually rode the Roll-O-Plane. I rode the aging ride a few years ago, a few months before the frame cracked and the ride was deemed irreparable.
They used to have these swinging cages that were run by human power. I thought those were cool. There was the old rocket ride that sat where the Turn of the Century swings are today, and the paddle boats on the lake. The Hammer was fun. Or at least it was fun to get off and say that you’d ridden it. The old Haunted Shack walk-through spook alley was kind of fun.
When I was a teenager, they had a ride that was like a big spinning canister. You’d stand against the wall. The ride would spin faster and faster until centrifugal force pinned you against the wall. Then the floor would drop away and you’d be suspended against the wall. I liked the ride, but I guess it was too dangerous. I used to enjoy playing SkeeBall on the midway.
I’m glad that some attractions are gone. I hated those hand powered rail devices that were reminiscent of tricycles. I’d always get queasy when riding the Magic Carpet. It was a good thing that they eventually closed down the old swimming pool. It might have been grand in the 1940s, but it was decrepit by the time it closed. Lagoon-A-Beach water park is far better.
Today’s Wild Mouse is much better than the one it replaced. Today’s gas-powered go-carts are a far cry from the old center-rail gas-powered cars. But you have to pay extra to drive or ride in the newer go-carts. I also worry about the workers there. The fumes produced by the car engines are significant.
Many attractions from my younger days are still there. The old “white” roller coaster is still somewhat harrowing to ride because it is so bumpy. Some of today’s kiddie rides are the same ones I rode as a child.
Some attractions have changed over the years — some for the better and some less so. The kiddie land is much better than it was years ago. Pioneer Village has been improved. But some of what I thought were the best features of Dracula’s Castle have been replaced by much more benign elements. They used to do great street shows in Pioneer Village but you never see those anymore.
For the last dozen or so years, Lagoon has focused on fairly significant annual improvements. Some of the rides added during this time are intense. The Wicked coaster, installed in 2007, is highly innovative and exhilarating — and/or terrifying, depending on your point of view.
The interactive fountain was a good addition. Unlike when I was a kid, Lagoon now has so many attractions designed to get you wet that you’d be well advised to dress in anticipation of this before heading off to the park.
One of my fondest memories is when my grandmother rode the Colossus while visiting from Germany. She was in her 80s at the time. As instructed, she removed her glasses before the ride started. After we got off the ride, my brother asked her how she liked going upside down twice. “We were upside down?!” she exclaimed. “But I didn’t see it!” she complained. She had to ride again. Only this time she firmly held her spectacles in place so that she could see what was happening. She was thrilled.
Going to Lagoon with the family is easier for us than it used to be, now that we no longer have toddlers. We still end up splitting up because different ages of kids have different interests. It has been years since I returned from Lagoon without at least one child holding some kind of stuffed toy gleaned (at much higher cost than it was worth) from some midway game. Like we don’t have enough stuffed critters at our house.
Like all amusement parks, the food at Lagoon is pricey. Some might complain that it’s of marginal quality too. But it’s really not too bad, as far as amusement park food goes. Tickets for a ride pass are pretty pricey too. We don’t go to Lagoon without some kind of discount. Fortunately, discount coupons are fairly widely available.
Many of the people milling around the park are school-age kids. For the price of a couple of daily passes, parents can buy a season pass for their child. Many adolescents with such passes roam the park unsupervised in packs. Far be it from me to judge another’s parenting, but I would never get my child a season pass to Lagoon. The behavior I see among the kids with such passes is not something I’d want my children to emulate.
Perhaps the greatest pastime at Lagoon is watching other park patrons. An uncanny number of them appear to be current carnival side show attractions or possibly asylum escapees. It is not unusual to see youth dress and groom bizarrely. They are naturally at a stage where they are exploring their identities. I was, however, surprised at the number of fairly young girls that wore pierced nose jewels. I guess that the boys they hope to attract find this kind of thing attractive.
More eye opening are the seasoned adults that look like they’re still trying to rebel against their parents. While I saw no legal statute violated, some people that should know better certainly were in violation of the laws of good taste and common courtesy.
What possesses a 5’4” 300-lb woman in her late 40s to think that it’s acceptable to go out in public in shorts and a teeny-bopper shirt that brazenly exposes most of her, uh, ample upper body? And, honestly, some people that visit the water park should, before donning swimwear, consider the fact that others around them might have recently eaten.
Lagoon is a great place to go if you want to see what a tattoo is going to look like on wrinkly, puffy middle-aged skin. Or what body piercings are going to look like when you’re in your 50s. As I scanned the park, it seemed to me that the majority of the folks there were members of the dependent class rather than the productive class.
Still, we enjoyed our visit to the noisy amusement park. We were also happy to head home at the end of the day. I was particularly pleased to walk to the vehicle without having to tote a cross or sleeping child.
Tuesday, July 06, 2010
Lewis Peak Hike
I was not much of a hiker when I was younger. I did it when I had to, usually as part of a youth group excursion. I frequently lagged behind the main body of the group. I first began to enjoy hiking when I spent a couple of summers working on the staff of Camp Loll, a Boy Scout camp near the the Tetons and Yellowstone. Since being diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis more than 20 years ago, I have hiked and backpacked more than I did in the years before that.
Not all of my family members share my enthusiasm for hiking. My #3 child has turned out to be more willing to hike with me than any of the rest of the family so far. Yesterday we hiked to Lewis Peak from North Ogden Divide. (See SummitPost for more details and pictures.) This was the fourth mountain peak in Weber County that we have hiked to together. During the past year, we have hiked to Willard Peak, Ben Lomond Peak, and Malans Peak (which isn’t really a peak). We also hiked Little Emigration Canyon last fall and did some hiking in Idaho last summer. We will be going into the Yellowstone back country this month and plan to make a trek to Mount Ogden later this season.
Yesterday was the perfect day for a hike. It was warm, sunny, and clear, but it never got hot. I wanted to get out on the trail early in the day, but my son made me go pick peas with him at a neighbor’s garden. It seems they had a bumper crop this year and needed to get rid of the excess. After our pea picking, we hit the trail at almost exactly 8:05 am.
The first 2½ miles of the 5½ mile trek to the peak is all uphill, with the first 1¾ miles being switchbacks. The trail isn’t terribly steep, but it’s a relentless climb that should tax your cardio-vascular system. When my son complained, I reminded him that you have to climb a mountain to get to a mountain peak. If you need consolation on the way up, you can look across North Ogden Divide and be grateful that you’re not climbing the more extensive switchbacks that lead toward Ben Lomond Peak.
The Lewis Peak trail is well improved and maintained. The switchbacks have no shortage of spots with loose rock. On the way to the peak, we passed fewer than a dozen hikers, a few mountain bikes, and a couple of motorcycles. The highest point of the hike to the peak mounts a hilltop that is actually higher in elevation than Lewis Peak. Once you hit that point, the trail trends mildly downward for about 2½ miles before it climbs the last half mile to the peak. Mountain bikes and motorcycles can drive right to the peak.
Once you crest the top of the switchbacks, you are offered good views of both sides of the mountain range in many spots. You can look north to Ben Lomond and south to Mount Ogden. You can see Pineview Reservoir, Willard Bay, the Great Salt Lake, and the ski runs at Snowbasin resort. You can follow branches of the trail to Pineview and to Ogden Canyon, if you wish.
The wildflowers were beautiful, although, they are at their peak beauty toward the end of July. Once you reach the top of the ridge, you can expect wind just about any time. An eyrie of golden eagles can often be seen near the top of the switchbacks. I have counted as many as seven eagles floating on the breeze up there like they were surfing the wind currents. We didn’t see the eagles yesterday.
We arrived at the peak at almost precisely 10:35. We had made it in almost exactly 2½ hours. A couple of hikers and a motorcyclist had arrived shortly ahead of us. Soon we were joined by eight more hikers and a dog. It seems that Lewis Peak was popular yesterday. One lady was carrying nothing but an empty ½-liter water bottle. There are no water sources on this hike and you can expect to sweat a lot while climbing the hill. So it’s wise to carry plenty of water. Dehydration can be dangerous. As I always carry extra, I gave the lady one of my water bottles for the hike back.
We spent about an hour lunching and hanging out on the peak. More hikers came, as did a couple of mountain bikers and another motorcyclist. We left the peak at almost precisely 11:35 am. After the initial descent, my son was stunned to discover that we had a (relatively mild) uphill climb for the next 2½ miles. It had seemed level to him on the way in. He had to stop and rest a few times before we reached the top of the hill that marks the beginning of the descent to North Ogden Divide.
On the way out, we met quite a few hikers and mountain bikers on their way in. Although I have hiked children as young as eight to the top of the switchbacks, I would personally avoid trying to take children younger than 11 or 12 all the way to the peak. I was surprised to pass several families that had very young children on the hike. A couple of families had young children with mountain bikes. While the trail is quite bike-able, being a mountain biker myself, I’d consider the trail to be too technical for young riders.
After we started down the switchbacks, one mother with an extended family group asked how close they were to the top. She explained that they were headed for the Pineview trailhead. I was concerned. Some members of the group looked about shot already and the Pineview trailhead was more than eight miles away. It seems that some people undertake hikes like this without adequate research or preparation.
Going down the switchbacks can be as challenging as going up, but in a different way. The incessant downhill trek can take a toll on your knees, shins, and toes. We arrived at the trailhead at almost precisely 1:35 pm. We had hiked out in almost exactly two hours. That was very close to my pre-hike estimate.
We met some friends in the parking lot that had hiked to Ben Lomond Peak. They were hampered by snow as they neared the summit, they said. After climbing to the summit anyway, they said the wind howled and that they were very cold. They figured that the bulk of the snow would be gone within two weeks.
My son said that he would take a nap as soon as we got home. But I made him take a shower first. Even though the trail wasn’t particularly dusty yesterday, we were dirty enough. I have a little muscle soreness in my hips, calves, and shins. But that’s a small price to pay for the great hike I was able to enjoy with my son yesterday.
Not all of my family members share my enthusiasm for hiking. My #3 child has turned out to be more willing to hike with me than any of the rest of the family so far. Yesterday we hiked to Lewis Peak from North Ogden Divide. (See SummitPost for more details and pictures.) This was the fourth mountain peak in Weber County that we have hiked to together. During the past year, we have hiked to Willard Peak, Ben Lomond Peak, and Malans Peak (which isn’t really a peak). We also hiked Little Emigration Canyon last fall and did some hiking in Idaho last summer. We will be going into the Yellowstone back country this month and plan to make a trek to Mount Ogden later this season.
Yesterday was the perfect day for a hike. It was warm, sunny, and clear, but it never got hot. I wanted to get out on the trail early in the day, but my son made me go pick peas with him at a neighbor’s garden. It seems they had a bumper crop this year and needed to get rid of the excess. After our pea picking, we hit the trail at almost exactly 8:05 am.
The first 2½ miles of the 5½ mile trek to the peak is all uphill, with the first 1¾ miles being switchbacks. The trail isn’t terribly steep, but it’s a relentless climb that should tax your cardio-vascular system. When my son complained, I reminded him that you have to climb a mountain to get to a mountain peak. If you need consolation on the way up, you can look across North Ogden Divide and be grateful that you’re not climbing the more extensive switchbacks that lead toward Ben Lomond Peak.
The Lewis Peak trail is well improved and maintained. The switchbacks have no shortage of spots with loose rock. On the way to the peak, we passed fewer than a dozen hikers, a few mountain bikes, and a couple of motorcycles. The highest point of the hike to the peak mounts a hilltop that is actually higher in elevation than Lewis Peak. Once you hit that point, the trail trends mildly downward for about 2½ miles before it climbs the last half mile to the peak. Mountain bikes and motorcycles can drive right to the peak.
Once you crest the top of the switchbacks, you are offered good views of both sides of the mountain range in many spots. You can look north to Ben Lomond and south to Mount Ogden. You can see Pineview Reservoir, Willard Bay, the Great Salt Lake, and the ski runs at Snowbasin resort. You can follow branches of the trail to Pineview and to Ogden Canyon, if you wish.
The wildflowers were beautiful, although, they are at their peak beauty toward the end of July. Once you reach the top of the ridge, you can expect wind just about any time. An eyrie of golden eagles can often be seen near the top of the switchbacks. I have counted as many as seven eagles floating on the breeze up there like they were surfing the wind currents. We didn’t see the eagles yesterday.
We arrived at the peak at almost precisely 10:35. We had made it in almost exactly 2½ hours. A couple of hikers and a motorcyclist had arrived shortly ahead of us. Soon we were joined by eight more hikers and a dog. It seems that Lewis Peak was popular yesterday. One lady was carrying nothing but an empty ½-liter water bottle. There are no water sources on this hike and you can expect to sweat a lot while climbing the hill. So it’s wise to carry plenty of water. Dehydration can be dangerous. As I always carry extra, I gave the lady one of my water bottles for the hike back.
We spent about an hour lunching and hanging out on the peak. More hikers came, as did a couple of mountain bikers and another motorcyclist. We left the peak at almost precisely 11:35 am. After the initial descent, my son was stunned to discover that we had a (relatively mild) uphill climb for the next 2½ miles. It had seemed level to him on the way in. He had to stop and rest a few times before we reached the top of the hill that marks the beginning of the descent to North Ogden Divide.
On the way out, we met quite a few hikers and mountain bikers on their way in. Although I have hiked children as young as eight to the top of the switchbacks, I would personally avoid trying to take children younger than 11 or 12 all the way to the peak. I was surprised to pass several families that had very young children on the hike. A couple of families had young children with mountain bikes. While the trail is quite bike-able, being a mountain biker myself, I’d consider the trail to be too technical for young riders.
After we started down the switchbacks, one mother with an extended family group asked how close they were to the top. She explained that they were headed for the Pineview trailhead. I was concerned. Some members of the group looked about shot already and the Pineview trailhead was more than eight miles away. It seems that some people undertake hikes like this without adequate research or preparation.
Going down the switchbacks can be as challenging as going up, but in a different way. The incessant downhill trek can take a toll on your knees, shins, and toes. We arrived at the trailhead at almost precisely 1:35 pm. We had hiked out in almost exactly two hours. That was very close to my pre-hike estimate.
We met some friends in the parking lot that had hiked to Ben Lomond Peak. They were hampered by snow as they neared the summit, they said. After climbing to the summit anyway, they said the wind howled and that they were very cold. They figured that the bulk of the snow would be gone within two weeks.
My son said that he would take a nap as soon as we got home. But I made him take a shower first. Even though the trail wasn’t particularly dusty yesterday, we were dirty enough. I have a little muscle soreness in my hips, calves, and shins. But that’s a small price to pay for the great hike I was able to enjoy with my son yesterday.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
A Youth Activity Ends In Tragedy
Having been involved with youth groups and having been an adult leader on many youth outdoor excursions, I am especially torn about the death of 17-year-old Sophie Barton of Holladay, Utah. (See KSL story.) Barton died on Monday after collapsing while hiking with an LDS Church young women’s group under controlled and well supervised conditions. Barton’s mother was one of the adults hiking with the group.
Barton’s tragic death is no doubt having a stark impact on her family members and friends. The adult leaders that were in charge of the hike must feel terrible. I wish the best for all of these and pray that they will find solace amid their grief.
In the hundreds of youth outdoor adventures I have attended, I have dealt with a variety of medical and first aid issues. Most have been the garden variety injuries that can be expected when engaging in such activities: cuts, abrasions, burns, blisters, hypothermia, sprains, etc. There’s been the occasional illness, such as flu, histamine response, or intestinal distress. More serious injuries, such as broken bones, have been rare. Ditto with serious illnesses, although, these have occurred too. I’ve seen a very few campers end up riding in ambulances and Life Flight helicopters over the years.
I have friends that have dealt with deaths on youth outings. One friend had a seemingly healthy boy die after swimming in a lake at an organized Scout camp. The boy had passed a doctor’s medical exam. A medical doctor that was a few yards away when the boy collapsed on the beach immediately administered treatment, but the boy died anyway. An autopsy revealed a previously undetected rare heart anomaly. It was only by circumstance that the boy died at camp. He might have passed away while sitting at home watching TV.
Another friend had one of his young campers die after being struck by lightning while sleeping in a tent. They figure that lightning struck a nearby tree and traveled through a root that was under the tent. The tree was unaffected. The other boy in the tent was unaffected and was unaware that his companion had been shocked until later in the night.
There is risk involved in any kind of activity. Organizations that sponsor youth groups go to much greater lengths to mitigate unnecessary risks associated with youth activities than at any time in history. We know more about these risks than ever. Medical precautions, training, equipment, and accessibility to qualified professional help have never been better. And yet participants in activities can still be injured, get sick, and even die.
We don’t know for sure why Barton died. KSL reports, “The state medical examiner hopes to have an answer to that within 48 hours.” The Standard Examiner reports that a Sherriff’s deputy “suspected that heat played a role in the death of the girl….” That’s curious, since it wasn’t particularly hot at the time and in the location where Barton collapsed. Perhaps the deputy was referring to heat exhaustion or heat stroke.
Both heat exhaustion and heat stroke begin primarily with dehydration — inadequate fluid intake to replenish the fluids being lost from the body. Naturally, physical exertion and heat — factors inherent in summertime outdoor activities — increase fluid loss. Illness and some medications can contribute to dehydration as well. Simply replacing fluids can remedy mild dehydration, but severe dehydration requires immediate medical treatment.
The layperson may not be able to tell the difference between heat exhaustion and heat stroke. But both conditions require medical attention. Body temperature rises under either condition, but it is generally higher with heat stroke. Body temperature may reach or top 105° with heat stroke because the body’s cooling system has shut down.
Adequate hydration begins well before an activity begins with making sure that all participants start out well hydrated. Activity leaders should carefully consider the condition of those that have (or have recently had) diarrhea, young women that are having periods, and those taking medications such as antihistamines.
Proper planning should ensure that each participant has adequate fluid for the duration of the activity and during the hours afterward. I want to take some of my sons hiking to a nearby mountain peak this summer. I know that there are no water sources past a half mile into the hike, so even my backpacking water filter won’t help. We will have to carry a lot of water. That will add weight to our packs, but it is essential to enjoying a safe hike.
Several years ago, we took a large group of youth to St. George, Utah for several days of activities. We enjoyed hiking slot canyons, games in a city park at night, waterskiing, swimming, and even a service project in 104° heat shoveling silt out of a tennis court that had been damaged by flooding that spring. Throughout the days of the activity, we supplied copious amounts of bottled water. Each adult was assigned to watch several youth during those days to make sure no one got close to dehydration. We had a great time and nobody suffered from inadequate fluids.
Right now nobody knows for sure whether dehydration played a role in Sophie Barton’s untimely death. We don’t even know if her death was preventable. When the medical examiner reveals the cause, perhaps it will serve as a learning experience for those of us that lead, participate in, and help with outdoor activities. Such activities are an important part of life. But everyone involved should enjoy them as safely as is reasonable.
Barton’s tragic death is no doubt having a stark impact on her family members and friends. The adult leaders that were in charge of the hike must feel terrible. I wish the best for all of these and pray that they will find solace amid their grief.
In the hundreds of youth outdoor adventures I have attended, I have dealt with a variety of medical and first aid issues. Most have been the garden variety injuries that can be expected when engaging in such activities: cuts, abrasions, burns, blisters, hypothermia, sprains, etc. There’s been the occasional illness, such as flu, histamine response, or intestinal distress. More serious injuries, such as broken bones, have been rare. Ditto with serious illnesses, although, these have occurred too. I’ve seen a very few campers end up riding in ambulances and Life Flight helicopters over the years.
I have friends that have dealt with deaths on youth outings. One friend had a seemingly healthy boy die after swimming in a lake at an organized Scout camp. The boy had passed a doctor’s medical exam. A medical doctor that was a few yards away when the boy collapsed on the beach immediately administered treatment, but the boy died anyway. An autopsy revealed a previously undetected rare heart anomaly. It was only by circumstance that the boy died at camp. He might have passed away while sitting at home watching TV.
Another friend had one of his young campers die after being struck by lightning while sleeping in a tent. They figure that lightning struck a nearby tree and traveled through a root that was under the tent. The tree was unaffected. The other boy in the tent was unaffected and was unaware that his companion had been shocked until later in the night.
There is risk involved in any kind of activity. Organizations that sponsor youth groups go to much greater lengths to mitigate unnecessary risks associated with youth activities than at any time in history. We know more about these risks than ever. Medical precautions, training, equipment, and accessibility to qualified professional help have never been better. And yet participants in activities can still be injured, get sick, and even die.
We don’t know for sure why Barton died. KSL reports, “The state medical examiner hopes to have an answer to that within 48 hours.” The Standard Examiner reports that a Sherriff’s deputy “suspected that heat played a role in the death of the girl….” That’s curious, since it wasn’t particularly hot at the time and in the location where Barton collapsed. Perhaps the deputy was referring to heat exhaustion or heat stroke.
Both heat exhaustion and heat stroke begin primarily with dehydration — inadequate fluid intake to replenish the fluids being lost from the body. Naturally, physical exertion and heat — factors inherent in summertime outdoor activities — increase fluid loss. Illness and some medications can contribute to dehydration as well. Simply replacing fluids can remedy mild dehydration, but severe dehydration requires immediate medical treatment.
The layperson may not be able to tell the difference between heat exhaustion and heat stroke. But both conditions require medical attention. Body temperature rises under either condition, but it is generally higher with heat stroke. Body temperature may reach or top 105° with heat stroke because the body’s cooling system has shut down.
Adequate hydration begins well before an activity begins with making sure that all participants start out well hydrated. Activity leaders should carefully consider the condition of those that have (or have recently had) diarrhea, young women that are having periods, and those taking medications such as antihistamines.
Proper planning should ensure that each participant has adequate fluid for the duration of the activity and during the hours afterward. I want to take some of my sons hiking to a nearby mountain peak this summer. I know that there are no water sources past a half mile into the hike, so even my backpacking water filter won’t help. We will have to carry a lot of water. That will add weight to our packs, but it is essential to enjoying a safe hike.
Several years ago, we took a large group of youth to St. George, Utah for several days of activities. We enjoyed hiking slot canyons, games in a city park at night, waterskiing, swimming, and even a service project in 104° heat shoveling silt out of a tennis court that had been damaged by flooding that spring. Throughout the days of the activity, we supplied copious amounts of bottled water. Each adult was assigned to watch several youth during those days to make sure no one got close to dehydration. We had a great time and nobody suffered from inadequate fluids.
Right now nobody knows for sure whether dehydration played a role in Sophie Barton’s untimely death. We don’t even know if her death was preventable. When the medical examiner reveals the cause, perhaps it will serve as a learning experience for those of us that lead, participate in, and help with outdoor activities. Such activities are an important part of life. But everyone involved should enjoy them as safely as is reasonable.
Monday, June 28, 2010
Cousin Reunion
My Mom came from a fairly large family. My grandparents were working class folks. Like many other families of that era, they migrated from the Midwest to the West over a number of years. They started out as farmers, fell on hard times, and kept moving west to find jobs to supplement their meager farming subsistence. The births of their children spanned about two decades.
The structure of Mom’s family ensured that I would have lots of cousins. In fact, there are nearly four dozen of us. Our births span four decades. I think that I have met most of my cousins at least once during my lifetime. But Mom and her siblings spread themselves around the West. And their kids have spread themselves all over the country. So I can’t be certain that I’ve met each and every cousin; although, I’ve heard Mom talk about all of them.
There are only a few of my Mom’s generation left alive. One of my cousins passed away at a young age, but the rest of us are still alive. One of my older cousins noted that the oldest of us is suffering from a terminal illness. Another has what may be a terminal illness. He thought that maybe it was time to gather our generation to reminisce and get to know each other.
After more than a year of planning, we held our first ever family cousin’s reunion this past weekend. Only the children and grandchildren of my grandparents were invited to attend, along with their spouses. It was felt that if later generations were invited, we’d miss out on opportunities to spend quality time with our fellow cousins. I know that my children were grateful for this arrangement, since spending a weekend hanging out with extended family members they hardly know isn’t their idea of fun.
Some gathered for events on Friday evening. We had an all-day picnic with lovely weather conditions on Saturday. About two-thirds of the gang attended. We ate, socialized, took pictures, and enjoyed each others’ company.
On Saturday evening, most of that crew gathered for a formal banquet at a nice setting. One representative from the family of each of my grandparents’ children spent a few minutes telling what is unique about their family clan. Some stayed for Sunday morning worship events.
While most of those that attended our reunion came from the broader Intermountain West region, we had cousins from both coasts and many points in between. It was interesting to see the diversity among the group that attended, but the bonds that tie us together were readily apparent as well. It was a rather momentous event.
There was some talk about doing something like this again in the future, but who knows whether that will ever come together? Some of my oldest cousins are great grandparents themselves. Most are grandparents. We’re all busy with our own clans.
Several of my cousins did a lot of work to make the reunion a success. One cousin put together a handout that gives contact information for all of us and shows where each of us falls in the succession of births. Another cousin gathered biographical sketches of each cousin and compiled them into a book.
Yet another cousin made name badges that were very useful. Many years ago, my Mom and her siblings had a rare family portrait taken. My cousin extracted the images from that photo and imposed them on the badges. I and my siblings (and our spouses) got a badge with Mom’s name and picture on it, emblazoned with a number showing her order in the birth timeline. Alongside my name was my number in the birth timeline of all members of my generation. These badges were immensely helpful, especially when encountering a cousin I hadn’t seen since I was a kid. Some of us have changed quite a bit over time.
I felt that meal management was handled well. Everyone was on their own for most meals. The picnic was “bring your own food.” The only meal that was jointly supplied was the Saturday evening dinner. One cousin gathered payment for this event several weeks in advance. Since it was a nice meal at an elegant venue, it was not cheap. A few that attended other events opted out of that dinner.
The meal actually cost a couple of dollars less than the charge. The extra amount helped defray other expenses, such as handouts and badges. There were no other frills, so the cost of putting on the event was limited. Several cousins did a lot of volunteer work organizing, gathering money and info, and putting together books, badges and handouts.
All in all, I’d have to say that our cousin reunion was a great success. An event like this is a worthy activity for any expanding (and aging) family clan to consider.
The structure of Mom’s family ensured that I would have lots of cousins. In fact, there are nearly four dozen of us. Our births span four decades. I think that I have met most of my cousins at least once during my lifetime. But Mom and her siblings spread themselves around the West. And their kids have spread themselves all over the country. So I can’t be certain that I’ve met each and every cousin; although, I’ve heard Mom talk about all of them.
There are only a few of my Mom’s generation left alive. One of my cousins passed away at a young age, but the rest of us are still alive. One of my older cousins noted that the oldest of us is suffering from a terminal illness. Another has what may be a terminal illness. He thought that maybe it was time to gather our generation to reminisce and get to know each other.
After more than a year of planning, we held our first ever family cousin’s reunion this past weekend. Only the children and grandchildren of my grandparents were invited to attend, along with their spouses. It was felt that if later generations were invited, we’d miss out on opportunities to spend quality time with our fellow cousins. I know that my children were grateful for this arrangement, since spending a weekend hanging out with extended family members they hardly know isn’t their idea of fun.
Some gathered for events on Friday evening. We had an all-day picnic with lovely weather conditions on Saturday. About two-thirds of the gang attended. We ate, socialized, took pictures, and enjoyed each others’ company.
On Saturday evening, most of that crew gathered for a formal banquet at a nice setting. One representative from the family of each of my grandparents’ children spent a few minutes telling what is unique about their family clan. Some stayed for Sunday morning worship events.
While most of those that attended our reunion came from the broader Intermountain West region, we had cousins from both coasts and many points in between. It was interesting to see the diversity among the group that attended, but the bonds that tie us together were readily apparent as well. It was a rather momentous event.
There was some talk about doing something like this again in the future, but who knows whether that will ever come together? Some of my oldest cousins are great grandparents themselves. Most are grandparents. We’re all busy with our own clans.
Several of my cousins did a lot of work to make the reunion a success. One cousin put together a handout that gives contact information for all of us and shows where each of us falls in the succession of births. Another cousin gathered biographical sketches of each cousin and compiled them into a book.
Yet another cousin made name badges that were very useful. Many years ago, my Mom and her siblings had a rare family portrait taken. My cousin extracted the images from that photo and imposed them on the badges. I and my siblings (and our spouses) got a badge with Mom’s name and picture on it, emblazoned with a number showing her order in the birth timeline. Alongside my name was my number in the birth timeline of all members of my generation. These badges were immensely helpful, especially when encountering a cousin I hadn’t seen since I was a kid. Some of us have changed quite a bit over time.
I felt that meal management was handled well. Everyone was on their own for most meals. The picnic was “bring your own food.” The only meal that was jointly supplied was the Saturday evening dinner. One cousin gathered payment for this event several weeks in advance. Since it was a nice meal at an elegant venue, it was not cheap. A few that attended other events opted out of that dinner.
The meal actually cost a couple of dollars less than the charge. The extra amount helped defray other expenses, such as handouts and badges. There were no other frills, so the cost of putting on the event was limited. Several cousins did a lot of volunteer work organizing, gathering money and info, and putting together books, badges and handouts.
All in all, I’d have to say that our cousin reunion was a great success. An event like this is a worthy activity for any expanding (and aging) family clan to consider.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Blame It on the Kids (or the Lack Thereof)
A few studies that made news several years ago noted that many baby boomers expected to retire later in life than their parents and grandparents. But it was also noted that retiring boomers would be better off during their golden years than their parents were. One study found that after a half century of declining retirement age, the trend had reversed.
While researchers have been puzzling about the causes of the increasing retirement age, the explanation may actually be quite simple: Baby boomers tended to have fewer children than their parents did.
A century ago, 30.1 babies were born per 1,000 people in the U.S. That rate dropped to 18.7 during the Great Depression. (Birth rates generally trend lower during economic difficulties.) But after World War II, the rate surged, staying in the mid 20s during the 1950s, and slowly declining to below 20 in 1965 at the end of the boom. (See Infoplease site.)
Although boomers have generally been better off throughout their lives than their parents were, they opted for fewer children. And their children have continued that trend. Concern was sounded when the U.S. birth rate dropped below 14 per 1,000 for the first time in 2002. (See About.com article.) While there was an unprecedented surge in the rate in 2007, it dropped off as the recession took hold in 2008. (See NY Times article.)
The advent of widely available birth control permitted baby boomers more flexibility in determining family size than any previous generation had experienced. Increasing affluence and increasing wages for women helped fuel an increase in the divorce rate along with a decrease in the marriage rate and an increase in the average marriage age. The resulting increase in shorter-term child bearing relationships also contributed to the declining birth rate.
Affluence has been another key factor. As boomers’ parents became more prosperous, they tended to spend more on their children. Boomers took this trend to new heights with their own children. Spending on children has become such a status symbol that an entire child-focused marketing industry has grown. Parents use so many resources per child that it limits the number of children a family can afford.
Overall life expectancy has steadily increased during the past half century, so that the population of people beyond normal child bearing years is higher than ever, and climbing. The increasing median age means that even with increases in the raw number of children being born, the rate of births per thousand is still declining.
The point is that, despite ups and downs, the overall birth rate trend has been significantly downward since the the baby boom. This has a generationally delayed affect on retirement age.
In effect, the parents and grandparents of baby boomers were able to retire at younger ages because there was a huge supply of younger workers surging into the labor market. To some extent, these older workers were pushed out of the market to make way for the burgeoning young generation they spawned.
Another phenomenon of the baby boom generation was the trend toward increased preparation time to enter the job market. Increasing affluence played a role in this, but so did demographics. With more workers entering the market, boomers needed more ways to distinguish themselves to compete for jobs. This trend has continued into subsequent generations so that workers are entering the job market at later ages than their parents did.
The upshot is that as baby boomers eye retirement, there are fewer new job market entrants. This creates less pressure for older workers to retire, as well as fewer workers to fund Social Security pensions that many retirees are depending on to help fund living expenses.
Health conditions play a role in all of this as well. Better lifelong affluence means that boomers have had better health care and nutrition than any previous generation. Since they are healthier (or can be kept healthier) than their parents were at the same age, they are more capable of continuing to work than their parents were. Being healthier means that boomers need to plan for longer retirement times as well. That means more savings. And that means more work.
Increased affluence and expanded options are causing baby boomers to work to older ages than the previous two generations did. Subsequent generations can expect to work to even later points in life as they produce fewer children to replace them in the job market and as workers become productive in the market at older ages than their parents did. Hopefully they’ll be healthy enough to work long enough to enjoy some kind of retirement.
While researchers have been puzzling about the causes of the increasing retirement age, the explanation may actually be quite simple: Baby boomers tended to have fewer children than their parents did.
A century ago, 30.1 babies were born per 1,000 people in the U.S. That rate dropped to 18.7 during the Great Depression. (Birth rates generally trend lower during economic difficulties.) But after World War II, the rate surged, staying in the mid 20s during the 1950s, and slowly declining to below 20 in 1965 at the end of the boom. (See Infoplease site.)
Although boomers have generally been better off throughout their lives than their parents were, they opted for fewer children. And their children have continued that trend. Concern was sounded when the U.S. birth rate dropped below 14 per 1,000 for the first time in 2002. (See About.com article.) While there was an unprecedented surge in the rate in 2007, it dropped off as the recession took hold in 2008. (See NY Times article.)
The advent of widely available birth control permitted baby boomers more flexibility in determining family size than any previous generation had experienced. Increasing affluence and increasing wages for women helped fuel an increase in the divorce rate along with a decrease in the marriage rate and an increase in the average marriage age. The resulting increase in shorter-term child bearing relationships also contributed to the declining birth rate.
Affluence has been another key factor. As boomers’ parents became more prosperous, they tended to spend more on their children. Boomers took this trend to new heights with their own children. Spending on children has become such a status symbol that an entire child-focused marketing industry has grown. Parents use so many resources per child that it limits the number of children a family can afford.
Overall life expectancy has steadily increased during the past half century, so that the population of people beyond normal child bearing years is higher than ever, and climbing. The increasing median age means that even with increases in the raw number of children being born, the rate of births per thousand is still declining.
The point is that, despite ups and downs, the overall birth rate trend has been significantly downward since the the baby boom. This has a generationally delayed affect on retirement age.
In effect, the parents and grandparents of baby boomers were able to retire at younger ages because there was a huge supply of younger workers surging into the labor market. To some extent, these older workers were pushed out of the market to make way for the burgeoning young generation they spawned.
Another phenomenon of the baby boom generation was the trend toward increased preparation time to enter the job market. Increasing affluence played a role in this, but so did demographics. With more workers entering the market, boomers needed more ways to distinguish themselves to compete for jobs. This trend has continued into subsequent generations so that workers are entering the job market at later ages than their parents did.
The upshot is that as baby boomers eye retirement, there are fewer new job market entrants. This creates less pressure for older workers to retire, as well as fewer workers to fund Social Security pensions that many retirees are depending on to help fund living expenses.
Health conditions play a role in all of this as well. Better lifelong affluence means that boomers have had better health care and nutrition than any previous generation. Since they are healthier (or can be kept healthier) than their parents were at the same age, they are more capable of continuing to work than their parents were. Being healthier means that boomers need to plan for longer retirement times as well. That means more savings. And that means more work.
Increased affluence and expanded options are causing baby boomers to work to older ages than the previous two generations did. Subsequent generations can expect to work to even later points in life as they produce fewer children to replace them in the job market and as workers become productive in the market at older ages than their parents did. Hopefully they’ll be healthy enough to work long enough to enjoy some kind of retirement.
Friday, June 18, 2010
What I Have Learned from Decades of Weight Control
This is the fifth and final post in a series on weight control. In previous posts (part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4), I have discussed my various approaches to maintaining a healthy weight throughout most of my life. In this post I will sum up what I have learned about weight control.
After fighting the battle of the bulge for decades, I have learned that different things work for different people, and that different approaches may be required at various stages of life. If you want to reduce to a healthy weight, the first thing you’ve got to do is to find a program that actually works for you. What works for someone else may not work for you. Or you may find that you simply can’t stand it. Each individual requires a custom approach. Discovering what works for you may require some experimentation.
I have also learned that pretty much every successful weight loss program involves denying yourself foods and habits that you very much enjoy and/or to which you are addicted. There’s just no getting around this fact. Mark Twain famously 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.” So, find a set of restrictions you can live with without cheating much and give it a whirl.
To do this, you need to understand your own personality to a certain degree. Some people only have success when a social element is involved. They find weigh-ins, group meetings, and even working out with others at a public gym to be useful. They need the positive peer pressure to keep them on track. Me? I’m a lone wolf. I like to manage my diet and exercise privately. But knowing that helps me find approaches that work for me.
It is also important to be willing to try new and different things when the program you are using stops producing acceptable results. Some people seem to find methods that permanently work for them. That hasn’t been my experience. Every few years I end up having to rework my diet. Besides, variety also has benefits.
One of the main secrets to weight control is to dive into whatever program you choose with full commitment. Programs with limited timeframes can be appealing because many people can succeed at maintaining self discipline for a specified number of weeks. The key is to commit and then to do it completely.
Success often breeds more success. When you start on a program and get good results, it provides a pattern for how to continue to succeed. But, as stated above, if your program stops working for you, don’t be afraid to try something different.
Perhaps the greatest key to weight control is controlling your mental picture of yourself. If your mental self image is of an overweight person, your weight loss will be difficult and/or temporary. Permanent weight loss requires an ingrained image of a slender you. There are ways to develop such an image. Some experts claim that only external influences can cause this, but I believe my own experience proves this theory wrong. Get the right image in your head and the appropriate behavior will naturally follow.
Some people never have a problem with excess weight. I didn’t get that kind of body at birth. I imagine that I will be fighting the battle of the bulge for the rest of my natural life. So far, I have figured that it is a battle worth fighting.
After fighting the battle of the bulge for decades, I have learned that different things work for different people, and that different approaches may be required at various stages of life. If you want to reduce to a healthy weight, the first thing you’ve got to do is to find a program that actually works for you. What works for someone else may not work for you. Or you may find that you simply can’t stand it. Each individual requires a custom approach. Discovering what works for you may require some experimentation.
I have also learned that pretty much every successful weight loss program involves denying yourself foods and habits that you very much enjoy and/or to which you are addicted. There’s just no getting around this fact. Mark Twain famously 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.” So, find a set of restrictions you can live with without cheating much and give it a whirl.
To do this, you need to understand your own personality to a certain degree. Some people only have success when a social element is involved. They find weigh-ins, group meetings, and even working out with others at a public gym to be useful. They need the positive peer pressure to keep them on track. Me? I’m a lone wolf. I like to manage my diet and exercise privately. But knowing that helps me find approaches that work for me.
It is also important to be willing to try new and different things when the program you are using stops producing acceptable results. Some people seem to find methods that permanently work for them. That hasn’t been my experience. Every few years I end up having to rework my diet. Besides, variety also has benefits.
One of the main secrets to weight control is to dive into whatever program you choose with full commitment. Programs with limited timeframes can be appealing because many people can succeed at maintaining self discipline for a specified number of weeks. The key is to commit and then to do it completely.
Success often breeds more success. When you start on a program and get good results, it provides a pattern for how to continue to succeed. But, as stated above, if your program stops working for you, don’t be afraid to try something different.
Perhaps the greatest key to weight control is controlling your mental picture of yourself. If your mental self image is of an overweight person, your weight loss will be difficult and/or temporary. Permanent weight loss requires an ingrained image of a slender you. There are ways to develop such an image. Some experts claim that only external influences can cause this, but I believe my own experience proves this theory wrong. Get the right image in your head and the appropriate behavior will naturally follow.
Some people never have a problem with excess weight. I didn’t get that kind of body at birth. I imagine that I will be fighting the battle of the bulge for the rest of my natural life. So far, I have figured that it is a battle worth fighting.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Low Carb Weight Control
This is my fourth post in a series on my nearly lifelong struggle with maintaining a healthy weight. In past posts (part 1, part 2, part 3), I have described my teenage, young adult, and early middle age weight control efforts. Each approach produced acceptable results at first. But each time, I eventually started to gain weight again.
As my early middle age years went by, I became relatively comfortable with my own mixture of the BFL and BFFM programs. But I was also getting older. I noticed that it was getting harder to maintain my same weight and waist size. What concerned me more was a new pattern I was seeing. I’d maintain well for months. And then I’d suddenly experience a jump in weight and waist size.
Without any significant change in my routine, I’d suddenly put on two pounds and increase my girth by half an inch. Sometimes I could take measures that would somewhat reverse the gain. Other times, nothing I did seemed to help. I would be at a new plateau. This happened several times. Again, I wasn’t sure if it was simply due to advancing age or something else.
A few months ago, a brother introduced me to the 6-Week Cure for the Middle-Aged Middle. I was very wary of low carbohydrate diets. Besides having heard a number of horror stories, I figured that eating piles of fat and protein seemed unbalanced. But I figured that trying the diet for six weeks couldn’t kill me. So I gave it a shot.
The book explains why the equation of simply eating less and exercising more works on paper, but not so much in real life. This section struck me squarely, because it described my precise experience. More exercise and a stricter diet no longer seemed to help.
Middle-age fat is harder to reduce, the book claims, because it consists of visceral fat that entwines itself around your abdominal organs. This stuff increases blood pressure and causes any number of physical problems. Carbohydrates, it is asserted, can lend to inflammation that helps hold this visceral fat in place. It’s not the saturated fat that’s the problem. It’s the mixture of carbs and saturated fats that causes harm.
The first two weeks of the plan is designed to cleanse your liver. This reduces the body’s ability to hold onto visceral fat. They have you downing three protein shakes each day. You also get one solid low-carb meal. Surprisingly, this wasn’t as difficult as I had expected. Oh, you also have to give up most medications (especially ibuprofen, acetaminophen, and other NSAIDs), all alcohol, and all caffeine. Since I don’t use these products anyway, this was not a problem for me.
During these first two weeks, I dropped about seven pounds and reduced my waist girth by 1½”. They have a method for measuring visceral fat. Almost all of the fat I lost was visceral fat. I felt pretty good about that.
Weeks 3-4 are known as “meat weeks.” You get as much protein and fat as you need to satisfy yourself. But you get minimal levels of carbs. And you get no dairy at all. After so many liquid meals, solid meals were great. I got to eat and enjoy many foods that I had long avoided. During these weeks I lost another couple of pounds. My waist shrunk by another inch.
If you are not yet satisfied with your results at this point of the plan, the authors suggest that you alternate between a “shake” week and a “meat” week until you get to where you want to be. I did this for two weeks. I lost a little bit more weight and girth.
Finally, the last two weeks of the diet are designed to be “maintenance.” That is, they are supposed to be examples of how to eat for the rest of your life. They are a lot like meat weeks, but you can use dairy products. You also get more carbs, but they’re still very restricted.
By the end of three maintenance weeks, I had lost a total of 13 lbs and almost three inches around my waist. I feel as well as I felt under my previous diet plan. I am still doing my same strength training/cardio interval workouts. I have lost a couple of pounds of lean body mass, but I have also lost 11 lbs of fat.
I am as lean as I was nearly a decade ago. Clothes fit well that have been tight (or unwearable) for two to three years. Despite my previous unease with low carbohydrate diets, I am quite pleased with my current results. I was pushing the limits of normal BMI when I started the 6-Week Cure program. (Yes, BMI is a marginal tool for measuring healthy weight, but it is unfortunately widely used nowadays.) Now I am comfortably within normal BMI. By my calculation, I am about 13% body fat.
As has been my pattern for years, I suspect that I will follow this dietary plan until it doesn’t seem to work well for me anymore. Then I will look for something else. My goal in maintaining a healthy weight is to enhance overall health. I’m much less concerned about vanity.
Next time: What I have learned about weight control
As my early middle age years went by, I became relatively comfortable with my own mixture of the BFL and BFFM programs. But I was also getting older. I noticed that it was getting harder to maintain my same weight and waist size. What concerned me more was a new pattern I was seeing. I’d maintain well for months. And then I’d suddenly experience a jump in weight and waist size.
Without any significant change in my routine, I’d suddenly put on two pounds and increase my girth by half an inch. Sometimes I could take measures that would somewhat reverse the gain. Other times, nothing I did seemed to help. I would be at a new plateau. This happened several times. Again, I wasn’t sure if it was simply due to advancing age or something else.
A few months ago, a brother introduced me to the 6-Week Cure for the Middle-Aged Middle. I was very wary of low carbohydrate diets. Besides having heard a number of horror stories, I figured that eating piles of fat and protein seemed unbalanced. But I figured that trying the diet for six weeks couldn’t kill me. So I gave it a shot.
The book explains why the equation of simply eating less and exercising more works on paper, but not so much in real life. This section struck me squarely, because it described my precise experience. More exercise and a stricter diet no longer seemed to help.
Middle-age fat is harder to reduce, the book claims, because it consists of visceral fat that entwines itself around your abdominal organs. This stuff increases blood pressure and causes any number of physical problems. Carbohydrates, it is asserted, can lend to inflammation that helps hold this visceral fat in place. It’s not the saturated fat that’s the problem. It’s the mixture of carbs and saturated fats that causes harm.
The first two weeks of the plan is designed to cleanse your liver. This reduces the body’s ability to hold onto visceral fat. They have you downing three protein shakes each day. You also get one solid low-carb meal. Surprisingly, this wasn’t as difficult as I had expected. Oh, you also have to give up most medications (especially ibuprofen, acetaminophen, and other NSAIDs), all alcohol, and all caffeine. Since I don’t use these products anyway, this was not a problem for me.
During these first two weeks, I dropped about seven pounds and reduced my waist girth by 1½”. They have a method for measuring visceral fat. Almost all of the fat I lost was visceral fat. I felt pretty good about that.
Weeks 3-4 are known as “meat weeks.” You get as much protein and fat as you need to satisfy yourself. But you get minimal levels of carbs. And you get no dairy at all. After so many liquid meals, solid meals were great. I got to eat and enjoy many foods that I had long avoided. During these weeks I lost another couple of pounds. My waist shrunk by another inch.
If you are not yet satisfied with your results at this point of the plan, the authors suggest that you alternate between a “shake” week and a “meat” week until you get to where you want to be. I did this for two weeks. I lost a little bit more weight and girth.
Finally, the last two weeks of the diet are designed to be “maintenance.” That is, they are supposed to be examples of how to eat for the rest of your life. They are a lot like meat weeks, but you can use dairy products. You also get more carbs, but they’re still very restricted.
By the end of three maintenance weeks, I had lost a total of 13 lbs and almost three inches around my waist. I feel as well as I felt under my previous diet plan. I am still doing my same strength training/cardio interval workouts. I have lost a couple of pounds of lean body mass, but I have also lost 11 lbs of fat.
I am as lean as I was nearly a decade ago. Clothes fit well that have been tight (or unwearable) for two to three years. Despite my previous unease with low carbohydrate diets, I am quite pleased with my current results. I was pushing the limits of normal BMI when I started the 6-Week Cure program. (Yes, BMI is a marginal tool for measuring healthy weight, but it is unfortunately widely used nowadays.) Now I am comfortably within normal BMI. By my calculation, I am about 13% body fat.
As has been my pattern for years, I suspect that I will follow this dietary plan until it doesn’t seem to work well for me anymore. Then I will look for something else. My goal in maintaining a healthy weight is to enhance overall health. I’m much less concerned about vanity.
Next time: What I have learned about weight control
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Adult Weight Control
This is the third post in a series about my experiences with weight control. In the first post, I discussed my initial weight control efforts as a teenager. In my last post, I explained how I gained 40 lbs after getting married, and then lost 60 lbs by following a strict high carbohydrate diet.
During the next few years, I slowly gained back about 10 lbs. Then I was introduced to the Zone diet, which centers on a balanced ratio of lean protein, low glycemic complex carbohydrates, and ‘good’ fats. A 30-40-30 ratio of these nutrients was to be consumed at each meal and snack to maintain optimal blood sugar levels. While continuing my same workout program, I soon dropped the 10 lbs I had gained.
This plan worked OK, but learning to prepare meals under the plan was a nightmare. The Zone folks put out a cookbook, but it was all gourmet stuff. I’m no gourmet chef, so it didn’t work for me. I had to learn nutrient amounts for all kinds of foods. I needed a calculator, a computer, and spreadsheets to prepare a meal. Where I had once enjoyed cooking, I came to detest it. But overall, the results were positive.
A few more years slipped by, and then my brother introduced me to the Body for Life program. While BFL also included a 30-40-30 diet, it seemed less rigid than in the Zone diet.
Another change for me was the exercise program, which was structured around alternating resistance (strength) and cardio workouts. All workouts were designed as a series of intervals of increasing intensity. I quickly added muscle and reduced my waist size. I found the variety offered in the workouts to be much more satisfactory than daily aerobic training. (Your own results may vary.)
BFL seemed to work great at first. But after a couple of years, I started to notice my waist size creeping up again. I wasn’t sure if this was the result of my dietary/fitness program or my advancing middle agedness. Frustrated that even strict adherence to the plan wasn’t achieving the kind of results I had previously seen, I started casting about for other options. I chanced upon the Burn the Fat, Feed the Muscle program.
As I had with other programs, I dove into the BFFM program. It wasn’t a huge change from the BFL program, but it did offer more details as to why to avoid certain foods while focusing on others. I achieved marginal results with the program, likely because it really wasn’t much different than what I was already doing. But it seemed to help me hold the line for a while.
Next time: Going low-carb
During the next few years, I slowly gained back about 10 lbs. Then I was introduced to the Zone diet, which centers on a balanced ratio of lean protein, low glycemic complex carbohydrates, and ‘good’ fats. A 30-40-30 ratio of these nutrients was to be consumed at each meal and snack to maintain optimal blood sugar levels. While continuing my same workout program, I soon dropped the 10 lbs I had gained.
This plan worked OK, but learning to prepare meals under the plan was a nightmare. The Zone folks put out a cookbook, but it was all gourmet stuff. I’m no gourmet chef, so it didn’t work for me. I had to learn nutrient amounts for all kinds of foods. I needed a calculator, a computer, and spreadsheets to prepare a meal. Where I had once enjoyed cooking, I came to detest it. But overall, the results were positive.
A few more years slipped by, and then my brother introduced me to the Body for Life program. While BFL also included a 30-40-30 diet, it seemed less rigid than in the Zone diet.
Another change for me was the exercise program, which was structured around alternating resistance (strength) and cardio workouts. All workouts were designed as a series of intervals of increasing intensity. I quickly added muscle and reduced my waist size. I found the variety offered in the workouts to be much more satisfactory than daily aerobic training. (Your own results may vary.)
BFL seemed to work great at first. But after a couple of years, I started to notice my waist size creeping up again. I wasn’t sure if this was the result of my dietary/fitness program or my advancing middle agedness. Frustrated that even strict adherence to the plan wasn’t achieving the kind of results I had previously seen, I started casting about for other options. I chanced upon the Burn the Fat, Feed the Muscle program.
As I had with other programs, I dove into the BFFM program. It wasn’t a huge change from the BFL program, but it did offer more details as to why to avoid certain foods while focusing on others. I achieved marginal results with the program, likely because it really wasn’t much different than what I was already doing. But it seemed to help me hold the line for a while.
Next time: Going low-carb
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Weight Control As a Young Adult
Last time I wrote about my first efforts at weight control as a teenager. I experienced some success being careful about my diet while spending a summer planting pineapples in Hawaii.
Back to my regular routine, I quickly regained some of the weight I’d lost in Hawaii. But only some of it. Over the next couple of years, I worked at a fast food restaurant and at a grocery store. I spent my summers working on Boy Scout camp staff, which imposed a fair amount of physical activity. I wasn’t very careful about my diet during this time.
While serving as a missionary in Norway, I again began putting on weight. While Norway is commonly perceived as somewhat Spartan, they’ve got some delicious dishes and treats. Finally, one of my companions convinced me to be careful about my food intake and to take up jogging. That helped me maintain my weight.
Back home in the U.S., I found that jogging at 4,500’ above sea level is a lot harder than jogging at sea level. I slacked off on working out and I didn’t watch my diet much. I led a busy life that included school and work. Eventually I got started on a regular aerobic routine. I still didn’t watch my diet. I knew I could stand to lose 15 lbs. But my physical activity was helping me maintain my weight.
Marriage and home ownership changed all of that. I no longer found time to work out. My wife’s cooking was wonderful. During the first year of marriage I packed on 40 lbs! It really freaked me out, because I kept on gaining. The trajectory didn’t seem to be leveling off. I kept buying bigger clothes.
One day I saw an infomercial for a program called The Neuropsychology of Weight Control. I had never bought anything from an infomercial. But this program offered a 60-day money back guarantee. And I was getting desperate.
Once I received the program, I went at it full tilt. In fact, I can now see in hindsight that I became downright fanatical about it. My overboard dietary evangelism couldn’t help but annoy friends and family members.
The program included three elements: diet, exercise, and mental imaging. The diet was high in complex carbohydrates, somewhat low in protein, and very low in fat. Refined carbohydrates and saturated fats were to be strictly avoided. It was thought to be best if the minimal fats consumed came from polyunsaturated sources. This kind of diet was all the rage at the time and is still officially promoted by most government sources.
The exercise program was straightforward. Just do one hour of aerobic fitness walking each day. The program included a number of mental imaging exercises that were designed to employ as many senses as possible in perceiving oneself to be fit and slender.
By obsessively following this program, I saw very good results within 60 days. So I didn’t bother to try to get my money back. On the contrary, I tried to get others to purchase and use the program. Over the space of a year I dropped 60 lbs. I leveled off after having dropped 10 inches in pant waist size. My waistline was smaller than it had been when I was 16.
Having experienced such dramatic results, I stuck to this plan for many years. I eventually transitioned to using a Nordic Track cross country ski exerciser on many days to reduce impact and to get out of the elements.
Next time: Finding ways to maintain my weight
Back to my regular routine, I quickly regained some of the weight I’d lost in Hawaii. But only some of it. Over the next couple of years, I worked at a fast food restaurant and at a grocery store. I spent my summers working on Boy Scout camp staff, which imposed a fair amount of physical activity. I wasn’t very careful about my diet during this time.
While serving as a missionary in Norway, I again began putting on weight. While Norway is commonly perceived as somewhat Spartan, they’ve got some delicious dishes and treats. Finally, one of my companions convinced me to be careful about my food intake and to take up jogging. That helped me maintain my weight.
Back home in the U.S., I found that jogging at 4,500’ above sea level is a lot harder than jogging at sea level. I slacked off on working out and I didn’t watch my diet much. I led a busy life that included school and work. Eventually I got started on a regular aerobic routine. I still didn’t watch my diet. I knew I could stand to lose 15 lbs. But my physical activity was helping me maintain my weight.
Marriage and home ownership changed all of that. I no longer found time to work out. My wife’s cooking was wonderful. During the first year of marriage I packed on 40 lbs! It really freaked me out, because I kept on gaining. The trajectory didn’t seem to be leveling off. I kept buying bigger clothes.
One day I saw an infomercial for a program called The Neuropsychology of Weight Control. I had never bought anything from an infomercial. But this program offered a 60-day money back guarantee. And I was getting desperate.
Once I received the program, I went at it full tilt. In fact, I can now see in hindsight that I became downright fanatical about it. My overboard dietary evangelism couldn’t help but annoy friends and family members.
The program included three elements: diet, exercise, and mental imaging. The diet was high in complex carbohydrates, somewhat low in protein, and very low in fat. Refined carbohydrates and saturated fats were to be strictly avoided. It was thought to be best if the minimal fats consumed came from polyunsaturated sources. This kind of diet was all the rage at the time and is still officially promoted by most government sources.
The exercise program was straightforward. Just do one hour of aerobic fitness walking each day. The program included a number of mental imaging exercises that were designed to employ as many senses as possible in perceiving oneself to be fit and slender.
By obsessively following this program, I saw very good results within 60 days. So I didn’t bother to try to get my money back. On the contrary, I tried to get others to purchase and use the program. Over the space of a year I dropped 60 lbs. I leveled off after having dropped 10 inches in pant waist size. My waistline was smaller than it had been when I was 16.
Having experienced such dramatic results, I stuck to this plan for many years. I eventually transitioned to using a Nordic Track cross country ski exerciser on many days to reduce impact and to get out of the elements.
Next time: Finding ways to maintain my weight
A Lifetime of Weight Control
I was a chubby kid. Or at least, I was made to think that I was such. When I look back at my childhood pictures, I don’t appear particularly overweight. Especially compared to many of the kids today.
But kids can be harsh to each other. They tend to ruthlessly exploit perceived differences. I would be lying if I claimed that I am presently unaffected by the cruel treatment to which I was subjected as a kid. My offense was being thought of as having a non-ideal body type.
I first undertook a serious effort to battle the bulge at age 16. And I’ve been at it ever since, more or less. All in all, I’d have to say that I’ve been relatively successful. But it has been necessary to take different approaches at different times in my life.
A picture survives of me at age 16 after my first day working as a pineapple planter on a plantation in Hawaii. (That sounds a lot more glamorous that it was in real life.) In the photo, I have removed my shirt and am covered with red dirt. I am flabby, but not plump. My muffin top shows over my belt line.
My supervisor in Hawaii convinced me to give up candy, desserts, and treats of any kind throughout the summer. I ate only the cafeteria meals, but gave away my dessert at each meal. (You’d be surprised how many friends this gesture earned at mealtimes.) I spent my days doing manual agricultural labor in the hot sun.
My family almost didn’t recognize me when I got off the airplane upon arriving home. My neatly cropped brown hair had turned into a shaggy blond mane. I was much trimmer. My pants were kept in place only by virtue of my belt cinched to its tightest setting.
Next time: Weight control as a young adult
But kids can be harsh to each other. They tend to ruthlessly exploit perceived differences. I would be lying if I claimed that I am presently unaffected by the cruel treatment to which I was subjected as a kid. My offense was being thought of as having a non-ideal body type.
I first undertook a serious effort to battle the bulge at age 16. And I’ve been at it ever since, more or less. All in all, I’d have to say that I’ve been relatively successful. But it has been necessary to take different approaches at different times in my life.
A picture survives of me at age 16 after my first day working as a pineapple planter on a plantation in Hawaii. (That sounds a lot more glamorous that it was in real life.) In the photo, I have removed my shirt and am covered with red dirt. I am flabby, but not plump. My muffin top shows over my belt line.
My supervisor in Hawaii convinced me to give up candy, desserts, and treats of any kind throughout the summer. I ate only the cafeteria meals, but gave away my dessert at each meal. (You’d be surprised how many friends this gesture earned at mealtimes.) I spent my days doing manual agricultural labor in the hot sun.
My family almost didn’t recognize me when I got off the airplane upon arriving home. My neatly cropped brown hair had turned into a shaggy blond mane. I was much trimmer. My pants were kept in place only by virtue of my belt cinched to its tightest setting.
Next time: Weight control as a young adult
Monday, June 07, 2010
Tales from a One-Time Order of the Arrow Leader
When I was 13, I was elected by my Boy Scout troop to become a member of the Order of the Arrow, a fraternal service organization that is part of the BSA. It is often called Scouting’s national honor society.
Having friends that were very active in the OA, I also became quite active. In time, I was elected to various youth leadership positions: chapter vice chief, chapter chief, lodge chief, and section chief. I remained active in my young adult years, serving as an assistant chapter advisor, committee advisor, and chapter advisor (twice).
For many years, I was deeply involved in the OA. I often spent several nights each week and many weekends involved in OA related activities. When I became a scoutmaster, I had to reduce my involvement in the OA. Then, as a father with young children and a career, I went to school at night to improve my skills. I had no time for the OA and many other cherished pursuits during those years.
A short time after finishing graduate school, I was called into a fairly demanding church leadership position. This kept my focus in other areas. During that time, my two oldest sons joined the OA. The second found little interest in it, but the first was heavily involved for many years and was awarded the Vigil Honor.
I have always cherished my experiences with the OA, but in recent years I have still found little time for personal involvement. I have supported my oldest son in his activities, but my duties as a member of the district staff and service in my local unit have kept me as busy in scouting as my circumstances permit.
This past weekend my third son was inducted as a member of the OA. I spent the weekend with him working at a scout camp in Idaho, preparing the camp for the summer. I worked with a detail that felled large dead trees. Some were hauled and used as new trail markers. Some were cut and split into firewood. My son spent much of the time splitting wood. He was actually rather proud of the blisters on his hands at the end of the day.
While there were a few old timers around that knew me, the vast majority of the 130 people at the event had no clue who I was. Having relative anonymity while also having a deep understanding of what was going on provided for an interesting experience.
While the adults in the lodge work, serve, and enjoy fellowship with one another, I watched how most of them assiduously deferred to the youth leaders. I watched the youth leaders make some mistakes. It would have been so easy to step in and correct some of these problems. There were some background sessions where adults led the youth leaders through some lessons learned, but the youth very much appeared to be in charge. Despite foibles, the whole event went off satisfactorily.
I was also reminded of some reasons I don’t mind missing events like this. These kinds of activities used to be like my life blood. I was always in the middle of everything. I was one of the important people. Now I prefer to let others take the lead. Anonymous service suits me just fine.
Every time I attend an OA activity, I am chided by various people for my low level of involvement in the organization. Part of me wants to be more involved, but there is only so much of me to go around. I have other priorities. It’s not like I’m idle. While I realize that some of these people are merely trying to express concern, the constant pressure to return to my previous levels of involvement grates after a while. Who needs that?
I have several BSA uniforms. All of them have what I consider to be the bare minimum of insignia. Whenever I attend an OA event, other adult leaders scold me for not having this or that award that I could be wearing. I am frequently admonished to pursue awards that I already have. I just don’t care to display the award insignia on my uniform.
I see these adults in BSA uniforms that look like five-star generals in military dress. I am so not one of those people. There was a day when I had to make myself feel important by following that line. I am not that person any longer. Perhaps it’s because I see my former self — or a different version of what I could be (but glad I’m not) — that causes me to find these folks repellant.
And then there are the collectors. Some of them are or have been good friends. I’ve been involved in scouting for a long time. I have patches that are considered to be highly valuable on some uniforms. I have patches that are worth thousands of dollars. And I don’t care. The only value a patch holds for me is the underlying memory and sentiment. Frankly, some of my friends that collect BSA memorabilia come across as vultures.
So when I get taken to task for my relatively unadorned uniform, or get pestered to give up some old patch or pin, or get ragged on about how I haven’t been around much, it makes me want to do less rather than more with the OA. I do plenty in other realms of scouting. I know that I can’t do what I used to do with the OA. And moreover, I don’t really want to.
My youth and young adult years in the OA were grand times. I carry many fond memories of those precious years. Perhaps my reluctance to become more involved at present is because I don’t want to spoil those memories. I am not that person anymore. Perhaps I worry that I might revive some of the less savory elements of that person once again.
I hope that the youth involved in the Order of the Arrow gain some of the same kind of fulfillment and leadership opportunities that I had in the organization during my youth. I am grateful for the adults that work to help provide those opportunities. For the present, my focus is elsewhere.
Having friends that were very active in the OA, I also became quite active. In time, I was elected to various youth leadership positions: chapter vice chief, chapter chief, lodge chief, and section chief. I remained active in my young adult years, serving as an assistant chapter advisor, committee advisor, and chapter advisor (twice).
For many years, I was deeply involved in the OA. I often spent several nights each week and many weekends involved in OA related activities. When I became a scoutmaster, I had to reduce my involvement in the OA. Then, as a father with young children and a career, I went to school at night to improve my skills. I had no time for the OA and many other cherished pursuits during those years.
A short time after finishing graduate school, I was called into a fairly demanding church leadership position. This kept my focus in other areas. During that time, my two oldest sons joined the OA. The second found little interest in it, but the first was heavily involved for many years and was awarded the Vigil Honor.
I have always cherished my experiences with the OA, but in recent years I have still found little time for personal involvement. I have supported my oldest son in his activities, but my duties as a member of the district staff and service in my local unit have kept me as busy in scouting as my circumstances permit.
This past weekend my third son was inducted as a member of the OA. I spent the weekend with him working at a scout camp in Idaho, preparing the camp for the summer. I worked with a detail that felled large dead trees. Some were hauled and used as new trail markers. Some were cut and split into firewood. My son spent much of the time splitting wood. He was actually rather proud of the blisters on his hands at the end of the day.
While there were a few old timers around that knew me, the vast majority of the 130 people at the event had no clue who I was. Having relative anonymity while also having a deep understanding of what was going on provided for an interesting experience.
While the adults in the lodge work, serve, and enjoy fellowship with one another, I watched how most of them assiduously deferred to the youth leaders. I watched the youth leaders make some mistakes. It would have been so easy to step in and correct some of these problems. There were some background sessions where adults led the youth leaders through some lessons learned, but the youth very much appeared to be in charge. Despite foibles, the whole event went off satisfactorily.
I was also reminded of some reasons I don’t mind missing events like this. These kinds of activities used to be like my life blood. I was always in the middle of everything. I was one of the important people. Now I prefer to let others take the lead. Anonymous service suits me just fine.
Every time I attend an OA activity, I am chided by various people for my low level of involvement in the organization. Part of me wants to be more involved, but there is only so much of me to go around. I have other priorities. It’s not like I’m idle. While I realize that some of these people are merely trying to express concern, the constant pressure to return to my previous levels of involvement grates after a while. Who needs that?
I have several BSA uniforms. All of them have what I consider to be the bare minimum of insignia. Whenever I attend an OA event, other adult leaders scold me for not having this or that award that I could be wearing. I am frequently admonished to pursue awards that I already have. I just don’t care to display the award insignia on my uniform.
I see these adults in BSA uniforms that look like five-star generals in military dress. I am so not one of those people. There was a day when I had to make myself feel important by following that line. I am not that person any longer. Perhaps it’s because I see my former self — or a different version of what I could be (but glad I’m not) — that causes me to find these folks repellant.
And then there are the collectors. Some of them are or have been good friends. I’ve been involved in scouting for a long time. I have patches that are considered to be highly valuable on some uniforms. I have patches that are worth thousands of dollars. And I don’t care. The only value a patch holds for me is the underlying memory and sentiment. Frankly, some of my friends that collect BSA memorabilia come across as vultures.
So when I get taken to task for my relatively unadorned uniform, or get pestered to give up some old patch or pin, or get ragged on about how I haven’t been around much, it makes me want to do less rather than more with the OA. I do plenty in other realms of scouting. I know that I can’t do what I used to do with the OA. And moreover, I don’t really want to.
My youth and young adult years in the OA were grand times. I carry many fond memories of those precious years. Perhaps my reluctance to become more involved at present is because I don’t want to spoil those memories. I am not that person anymore. Perhaps I worry that I might revive some of the less savory elements of that person once again.
I hope that the youth involved in the Order of the Arrow gain some of the same kind of fulfillment and leadership opportunities that I had in the organization during my youth. I am grateful for the adults that work to help provide those opportunities. For the present, my focus is elsewhere.
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