Why People Avoid Neighborhood Caucus Meetings

I attended my first neighborhood political caucus meeting when I was 18 years old. I didn't understand many of the issues, I knew little about the candidates, and I didn't understand much of what was going on.

I did, however, comprehend that the meeting progressed according to parliamentary rules. My relative ignorance apparently decreased the likelihood of bias enough to qualify me to help count votes for county and state delegates.

Since that day of long ago, I have attended many neighborhood caucus meetings. I have held precinct leadership positions and I have attended party conventions.

But frankly, I detest going to neighborhood caucus meetings. I'm not alone. I yawned when I saw the headline for this KSL article, which reads, "Most Utahns won't attend party caucuses," because this statement has a pretty high "duh" factor. In other words, it's not really news. It's been this way for decades.

I opened the article anyway and could tell right away that it was more of the standard bashing of the caucus system that has been promoted by the media and the political elite establishment for some time.

While I think political lawyer Kirk Jowers is pretty sharp and has some interesting ideas, some of his professorial reasoning cited in the article deserves derision. As Jowers tells it, the problem with Utah's caucus system is not how many people attend, but how few delegate positions are available to attendees—fewer than 4,000.

Perhaps Dr. Jowers is unaware that we live in a constitutional republic. At each level of government a relative handful of representatives wield the power to vote on behalf of their numerous constituents.

Why is it OK for 29 politicians to represent all Utahns in the state senate and for 75 politicians to represent all Utahns in the state House of Representatives, but it is bad for about 4,000 Utahns to represent their neighbors at political party conventions? Dr. Jowers doesn't say.

According to the article, Jowers and other critics of Utah's caucus system essentially gripe that too few people control who can get on the ballot. As opposed to what?

A close reading of the article reveals that caucus critics are not really concerned about the number of people that have a say in who gets on the ballot, but rather who those people are. The caucuses—or at least the Republican caucuses, they complain, are controlled by "extremist elements." That's how the media and members of the political elite establishment describe those unenlightened troglodytes that dare to hold differing views.

The real problem with the caucus system to Dr. Jowers and his ilk is that people that don't think like him are likely to get a greater say in selecting who gets on the ballot than do members of their smartypants club. It doesn't matter that all viewpoints within the GOP have equal opportunity for representation at neighborhood caucus meetings. It's just that Jowers' viewpoint wins far fewer delegate positions than do those he contemptuously labels extremists.

Jowers would prefer "more primaries" and he has pretty much made it clear that he would like to scrap the caucus system completely.

Let's explore how that would work. Lacking a caucus system, party bosses would essentially control who gets on the ballot for primary elections. Only candidates with lots of money could then hope to compete in a primary. The system would naturally favor incumbents far more than the current system. And anyone that gets on the ballot would have to be cut in the mold of the party's establishment leaders.

So, candidates would have to kiss the party boss' butts to vie in a party primary election. I'm having difficulty seeing how this would be an improvement over candidates having to appeal to a majority of some 4,000 delegates.

Or perhaps caucus critics would prefer an open primary followed by a run-off, like they have in some other states. This creates an incredibly expensive multi-tier system that would eliminate all but the wealthiest campaigns. To top it off, run-off elections tend to attract so few voters as to leave a rational person wondering how this could possibly be an improvement over the caucus system.

Of course, if you are a lawyer specializing in election law (as is Dr. Jowers), you naturally want more elections and fewer grass roots efforts. More elections means more clients. Perhaps Dr. Jowers' intentions aren't nearly as pure as portrayed in the many articles in which the media glowingly holds this lawyer up as a paragon of political virtue and a voice for the underrepresented 'reasonable' Republicans.

Let's put it bluntly. The caucus system is unwieldy and difficult for members of the political establishment to control because, in their view, political decisions come down to the whims of a mass of extremist rednecks. This lack of control irks the elitists to no end. They are still angry that Sen. Bob Bennett was turned out by those unwashed ruffians in the last go-around.

Let's get back to the original question of why people don't attend their neighborhood caucus meeting. While the poll cited in the KSL article suggests no single clear reason for this, I believe that the real number one reason is that people feel uncomfortable doing so. They don't feel like they belong.

One of the reasons for this discomfort is that many people don't like to discuss politics with their neighbors. Exposing one's political leanings to be different from one's neighbors can make for less congenial neighborly interactions. Moreover, most are not deeply political animals and they feel out of place among a gathering of those that are.

While many people have strong feelings about political currents, much of this rides at a relatively shallow level of consciousness. The vast majority of people simply don't have enough interest in politics to deeply explore such issues. They aren't about to go to a meeting and expose their relative political ignorance. Thus, they are quite content to allow their more politically informed neighbors to handle this for them.

Then there are people like me. I go to the caucus meetings and listen to people speak their mind. Some are deeply informed on one or two issues but are quite ignorant of the rest of the political spectrum. Some 'feel' strongly about some things (they've read lots of nasty chain emails), but they haven't really backed this up with much reason. Some come with an ax to grind. Some come singing the praises of some politician without recognizing that he's just another politician.

Very few seem to comprehend the basic rules of all politics:

1. Politicians act in their own personal interest, even if they claim to be acting on behalf of their constituents, and even if they refuse to admit to themselves that they are acting in their own interest.
2. No politician can successfully represent the interests of all of his constituents. Thus, they are required to pander to different groups to remain in office. All successful politicians are masters of chameleon-like behavior.
3. Politicians respond to the incentives inherent in the political system. Thus, the politician's behavior is mostly determined by the political culture than by the person's personality. Candidates mostly differ on style rather than on what they substantively do while in office. Frequent change can circumvent deep entrenchment in the political culture.
4. The squeaky wheel gets the grease. The politician responds to those that get in her face with persistence, whether it be constituents, lobbyists, fellow politicians, activists, etc.
5. The best a voter can hope for is for the politician's interests to occasionally intersect with his own, hopefully on issues that matter most to the voter.

Too many people—even those classing themselves as conservatives—expect far too much from our political system, when a reasoned look at history should engender the greatest caution in granting any politician the tiniest bit more power than is absolutely essential to protect individual liberty. Expectations of the political system should be minimal. And so should the system's power.

But to convey these thoughts to one's neighbors in a coherent fashion in a 90-minute meeting dominated chiefly by competing emotions is a task for someone with much greater talent than me. Thus, I dislike attending political caucus meetings. My greatest hope is to escape without being given too much responsibility. I know that rule #1 above applies to me just as much as anyone else. Knowing the rule does not render one immune to it.

Sill, I am not nearly as dour about Utah's caucus system as are Dr. Jowers and the system's critics that the media continues to parade around at every opportunity. While it is true that the system is deeply flawed, so is any system that critics have suggested should replace it. There is no clear evidence that these systems, which can be seen in other states, produce superior outcomes.

Only those filled with hubris would claim to be able to remedy the current system's flaws without producing other equally nasty problems. While those that wield unjust power under the current system should be appropriately regarded with disgust, those that present themselves as political saviors should be regarded as highly dangerous.

Either they are too conceited to recognize their own faults or they are disingenuously hiding those faults because they expect to increase their own power. Either way, they should be regarded with the highest levels of suspicion.

Keep that in mind every time the media does another caucus system critic parade.

It's the Demographics

Baby boomers headed for retirement face a tough scenario. So says financial scholar and businessman Robert D. Arnott in this Wall Street Journal interview. The reason for this challenge, he says, is not due to recent economic difficulties, but rather to changing demographics.

The parents of baby boomers were able to retire (sometimes compelled to retire) at a relatively young age because so many new workers (i.e. boomers) were expanding into the work force. "The surge in that population [in the U.S.] in the '80s and '90s," says Mr. Arnott, "helped to fuel the U.S. stock market boom in the '80s and '90s;" a period that he says was "extraordinary."

But the average baby boomer has produced fewer offspring than did the average member of her/his parents' generation. This means that the supply of workers entering the work force as baby boomers retire is much smaller in comparison to the cohort entering retirement than in the previous generation.

Mr. Arnott says that less than 10 years ago "we had 10 new additions to the working-age cadre for each one new senior citizen." Today we are almost at even par, with about one new worker for each new senior citizen. During 2012 that scale will tip toward the older demographic. In 10 years there "will be 10 new senior citizens for each new working-age citizen."

Why is this important? After all, weren't boomers the ones that thought that having smaller families was a mark of enlightenment? It turns out that retirees can't support themselves on their own. Retirement is built on the economic and financial foundation created by the younger working generation. Boomers simply didn't create enough of that younger generation to supply the kind of abundance many retiring boomers expect.

To underscore the importance of this demographic shift, Mr. Arnott says, "If that's not a political, economic and capital-markets game changer, I don't know what is."

The article explains how this will apply to boomers' retirement nest eggs:

"As retirees sell stocks and then bonds to support themselves, there will be fewer younger investors to buy those securities, keeping a lid on prices. Meanwhile, strong demand from boomers and a limited supply of workers will boost the prices of goods and services the boomers need."

Many people are expecting investments to perform the same way they did in the '80s and '90s, says Mr. Arnott. But the demographic shift makes this impossible. Instead of 8-10% annual pre-inflation growth, we are more likely to see a 5.5-6% rate.

The double-whammy described above means that boomer retirees will have less money to pay for higher priced goods and services. Many will live far more modestly in retirement than they had hoped.

Still, says Mr. Arnott, the U.S. isn't in as harsh a situation as Japan, which experienced a similar demographic scenario a decade ago. Japan's ratio of retirees to young workers is more severe than the U.S.'s. Some observers have suggested that immigration of workers (a factor that is minimal in Japan) will help to blunt the current demographic trend in the U.S.

Mr. Arnott also notes that the boomers' situation isn't necessarily as bad as it sounds. They can improve their lot by investing "in economies that aren't afflicted by the 3-D hurricane of deficit, debt and demography." (The U.S. is obviously included in that hurricane.)

Sensible investors, says Mr. Arnott, should be able to retire perhaps a year or two later than originally planned. Those that invest "conventionally" can expect to work a couple of years beyond that. Those that rely mostly on entitlements, however, will "work until they're 80."

The advice then, is to invest offshore in economies that are more vibrant and not demographically constrained. It would also seem that the U.S. is in for many years of relatively lackluster economic performance, thanks to the demographic trend. Maybe reducing family size isn't as smart as some have made it out to be.

Training the Trainer

2½ months ago I wrote about our family's acquisition of a new puppy. Our pup is now 4½ months old. Our 10-lb bundle of white fluff has grown to a robust and muscular 31-lb powerhouse. Our research says that this breed can reach 35 lbs. He's well on his way.

Our dog is still quite fond of snuggling, being petted and scratched, etc. But only on his terms. He's got to be in a mellow mood (which is relatively often). He also has his extremely frisky moods. Sometimes (particularly after coming home from a walk) he likes doing what the kids call "the puppy dash." During these episodes he will run at tremendous speed for up to two minutes, making incredibly tight cornering maneuvers (except on tile). Then he will run to his bowl and lap up lots of water.

Having spent plenty on buying and outfitting the pup, I was somewhat dismayed when my wife announced that we'd be spending more money for a six-week puppy training course. I was flabbergasted when I was told that all family members needed to attend the class. But I dutifully went along.

It became clear within the first few minutes of the first class period that the purpose of the course was more to train the puppy's trainers than it was to train the puppy. We did the training during the week at home. By the time we completed the course, I was well convinced of its value. We and our dog had learned some important basic skills that have already made life with our dog far smoother than would otherwise have been the case.

Our pup is a pretty smart critter. He catches on quite easily. We have learned the importance of consistency in handling him. We're far from perfect, but I'm relatively pleased with our progress.

One problem occurred because I had to miss one week of the puppy training class due to another commitment. The other family members brought me up to speed, and I figured that was good enough. But it turned out that I missed out on some critically important instruction that led to weeks of frustration.

The way I understood leash training was that we were all going to work on having the dog walk on our right side. The importance of getting the dog to walk directly to the right of the walker's right leg was emphasized. Since then I have taken our dog on many walks. I implemented my understanding of how this was to work, thinking that walks would become increasingly easy with time.

But Friday afternoon I was frustrated. Rather than getting better, walks seemed to be getting worse. My strong pup was regularly straining at the leash. While I am strong enough to hold him back, the same is not true of our younger children.

So I finally resorted to our society's most significant source of enlightenment—the Internet. (Yes, it is also our society's greatest source of misinformation, lies, and mental filth. Hence the need to develop strong internal filters.)

I read through a variety of pages and watched a few videos about dog walking. They all made it sound and look so easy. Finally it got through my thick skull that I had been keeping the leash looped around the wrong wrist and had been delivering food treats with the wrong hand.

I thought the leash should be around my right wrist when it needed to be around my left wrist. I was to hold the treats in my right hand rather than my left hand. I was also supposed to let the leash drape over my right hand when necessary and I was only to deliver each treat at the outside seam of my right pant leg.

I was also to stop and refuse to move if the dog was about to make the leash taut. I was to reward the dog and begin to walk again as soon as he relaxed the tension on the leash, but he could only get his treat if he got it by the side of my right leg.

In other words, my dog wasn't misbehaving. He simply had a lousy trainer. I had been inadvertently teaching him to strain at the leash and to walk ahead of me.

Some of the websites said that consistently using the correct walking method with even a seasoned dog will produce positive results within days. Consequently I set out on Saturday's walk determined to try the walking techniques I had learned from the Internet the previous evening.

The first block was a little rough. But things improved after that. Yesterday morning I took the dog out again between church duties. It didn't take him long to recognize that pulling at the leash didn't get him where he wanted to go and that treats came only when he was walking in the right spot.

I am looking forward to walking the dog again this evening so that we can continue our progress together. In fact, I am going to insist that the whole family go on a walk this evening so that each can be trained to properly walk the dog. Leash training, like all dog training, works best when everyone in the dog's 'pack' does it the same way.

While humans are far more psychologically complex than dogs, I wonder how often what I perceive to be the misbehavior of my children can simply be chalked up to the fact that I have trained them to respond in such a manner. Maybe being a better 'trainer' can make family life smoother too.

A District Junior High Choir Concert

Last night my wife and I attended a junior high school choir concert. I know that sounds painful to some music lovers. But this event was actually quite enjoyable.

Junior highs from the local school district sent choir members to a daylong symposium at a nearby university. Each choir had prepared two numbers for the event. Each choir learned an additional three numbers to be performed as a combined group. A talented guest conductor led students through various exercises and learning experiences throughout the day.

In the evening students returned with their family members for the performance, which was held in the university's largest theater. By the time the event started there were few empty seats left. Choirs had practiced getting on and off stage quickly to minimize the time between choirs.

Most schools brought only a select set of choir members. A couple of schools brought all members of all of their choirs. That was the case with the first school to perform. The two numbers performed by this choir were impressive. They were powerful and well executed. Each student paid close attention to the director. He obviously expected much from his students and they obviously delivered. It was difficult to believe that these were mere junior high students.

The second choir to perform was also comprised of a relatively large group. As with the first choir, the director obviously demanded much of her students, but they seemed to like it. There is a certain reward in rising to a challenge, especially as a group. Many students prefer this to having an "easy" choir director.

Most of the subsequent choirs were more along the lines of what you'd expect from a junior high choir. None were bad. But none performed at the same level as the first two choirs.

The smallest choir, however, put in a very good performance. The stage had been arranged with a full Steinway grand piano in front of the risers on which the choir members stood. Unfortunately, the piano accompaniment sometimes drowned out the smaller choirs.

The smallest choir, however, performed both of their numbers acapella, so there was no accompaniment to drown them out. Moreover, the director arranged the small group in a way that maximized their vocal power as a group. The members of this choir had all been selected by audition, so they were all talented vocalists. So the numbers were very well done despite their small number.

Finally, all of the choirs came on stage together and the guest conductor came out. When the first chord of the first number was sung it was so powerful that I (probably along with most audience members) was stunned by the dynamic power of the group. They sang well and with tremendous power. All three numbers were a joy to hear.

I wasn't sure what to expect when we walked into the theater at the university. So I had few expectations. I walked out of the theater quite pleased with the event and grateful that my child was able to take part.

Teaching Christoper

As I read this Ensign Magazine article about serving children with cognitive disabilities, I thought of the experience my wife and I had with Christoper. He was a little boy with thick, dark, straight hair and shiny dark eyes that often conveyed how he felt.

Despite being born with severe physical and cognitive disabilities, Christoper was adopted as an infant by a family in our ward (congregation). This family loved Christoper deeply and did everything they could to address his needs. This was helped by the fact that Christoper's adoptive mother was a registered nurse.

Christopher was usually seen in public in his specially built wheel chair that was decorated in the colors of his favorite basketball team. He had little control of his small arms and legs. He was unable to speak. But he was able to show how he felt. This was never more apparent than when he would smile at someone with a look of unbridled gratitude.

At some point, Christoper's parents and the leaders of the ward Primary (children's auxiliary) organization decided that Christopher should attend Primary classes and events along with the other children. He did not advance each year as did other children. He moved from level to level as his parents and leaders felt the time was right.

Christopher was far smaller but also far older than the other children when he joined the class of 11-year-olds that my wife and I taught. We received some basic training in dealing with Christopher's needs and then we forged ahead.

Frankly, it was pretty uncomfortable at the outset. But the children in the class were mostly great with Christopher. Many of them had spent time around him for years. They were familiar with his needs and knew how to interact with him. We learned a lot from these children.

Christoper didn't attend class every week, as his health was rather fragile. He was once absent for a month, having nearly been taken down by a simple cold. Some Sundays Christopher could only spend part of the Primary time with us. Sometimes I couldn't tell whether Christoper was much aware of what was being taught. Other times it was obvious that he was engaged in the lesson. Although he couldn't sing, Christopher usually seemed to quite enjoy hearing the other children sing.

When the year drew to a close, we bid goodbye to all but one of our class members. Christopher remained as we welcomed a new batch of children. Before long, my wife and I were called to different callings. Others took over our group of 11-year-olds and Christopher.

Looking back, I realize that, while I became more comfortable over time dealing with Christopher, I always felt a bit awkward having him in my care. I was constantly afraid that I might make some kind of mistake.

I once allowed Christopher to have a lollipop (which I understood was OK for him). But when he clamped down on it and started to breathe in an agitated manner, I became concerned that he might choke on it. When he wouldn't release the candy, I ended up prying it from his mouth. He calmed down, but I was left feeling unsettled.

Having Christopher in our class was sometimes distracting to the other children. This raised class management and teaching challenges. But we were always able to work through them. I tried to remember the Savior's admonition regarding little children being the epitome of the kingdom of heaven (Matt 19:14).

We continued to see Christopher at church after our release from teaching 11-year-olds. Then one day we received word that Christopher had unexpectedly passed away. His mother related how he had seemed fine when the family put him to bed as usual. A family member checked on him a few hours later and all seemed well. Then a few hours later, a family member discovered him still and lifeless.

After nearly two decades of lovingly caring for Christopher, each family member felt bereft of his presence. The whole ward mourned. Despite having been Christopher's Primary teacher for a while, there was no way for me to fully comprehend what the family was experiencing, but I ached for them.

I'm not sure how my months of contact with Christopher impacted him. But it left a lasting impact on me. Sometimes we are called to serve in uncomfortable situations. We are always blessed when we serve valiantly. And at least some of those blessings are enduring.

Philosopher Promotes Secular Religion

Modern day philosopher Alain de Botton praises religion in this Wall Street Journal article, while attempting to promote a secular alternative. deBotton writes:

"Religion serves two central needs that secular society has not been able to meet with any particular skill: first, the need to live together in harmonious communities, despite our deeply-rooted selfish and violent impulses; second, the need to cope with the pain that arises from professional failure, troubled relationships, the death of loved ones and our own decay and demise.

"Religions are a repository of occasionally ingenious concepts for trying to assuage some of the most persistent and unattended ills of secular life. They merit our attention for their sheer conceptual ambition and for changing the world in a way that few secular institutions ever have. They have managed to combine theories about ethics and metaphysics with practical involvement in education, fashion, politics, travel, hostelry, initiation ceremonies, publishing, art and architecture—a range of interests whose scope puts to shame the achievements of even the greatest secular movements and innovators."

Describing our current culture, de Botton decries the loss of religious worship in favor of the modern "worship of professional success." This, he says, has robbed us of a sense of community, leaving us strangers even in common settings such as restaurants.

de Botton writes glowingly of the importance of religious ritual in building a sense of community and putting us in touch with the core essence of ourselves and each other. But de Botton imagines that the individual and communal benefits inherent in religious observance may be had absent religious beliefs "about the afterlife or the supernatural origins of [religious] doctrines."

How is this to be achieved? By mimicking religious gatherings and rituals in a setting where "Everyone would be safe to approach and address, without fear of rebuff or reproach." de Botton imagines communal meals where people of every economic strata and subculture would gather to engage in set ritualistic patterns, even reading from texts developed for this purpose.

Color me skeptical. I'm not saying that secular gatherings of the type described by de Botton wouldn't be beneficial. I'm just not sure that they could be worship free gatherings and still attract adherents. It seems to me that the secular ritual de Botton imagines would necessarily evolve into a religion, even if its founders never meant for such to happen.

Philosophers (especially secular ones) have puzzled for ages as to why humans worship. Some have concluded that the human brain is simply wired to do so. Everyone worships something, even if they claim to have no connection to organized religion, and even if they deny that they worship.

Humans almost universally  give reverence to and seek communion with something greater or higher than themselves, whether that is an omnipotent creator, the combined wisdom of the masses, knowledge, a cause, career, the political state, athletics, etc. The list of possibilities is endless.

And that is one of the problems with de Botton's non-religious ceremonies. Even he admits that worship has become more fragmented and more individualized over time. As famously documented by Robert Putnam, the trend is toward greater fragmentation; not less. Culture continues to evolve into specialization that grants individuals increasingly nuanced ways to spend their time, to interact (or not interact) with others, and even to worship.

While some atheistic houses of worship could be established, the trend toward increased specialization means that they would likely attract too few adherents to provide a sense of community except in a few scattered enclaves. While the increasing trend to socialize at a distance diminishes vital relationship factors that are found only in close physical proximity, it is difficult to imagine a backlash strong enough to bring people together in the way de Botton imagines unless forced by external (perhaps cataclysmic) factors.

I perceive yet another problem with non-religious worship—a problem that I readily admit is greatly colored by my own religiosity. It is difficult for me to believe that completely secular ritual could bring the kind of fulfillment that comes from actual religious worship that is based on one's eternal relationship with deity and one's ultimate eternal disposition.

People have tried to explain to me how this works for secularists, but it has never been explained to my satisfaction (perhaps due to my mental thickness). But it is hard for me to imagine that atheists going to a secular church, as it were, could satisfactorily find the sense of community de Botton finds lacking in modern life. If that were the case, wouldn't such venues already exist? Perhaps they already do in parts of our modern higher education system that seem more like secular cloisters than bastions of free thought.

I wish de Botton and his fellow secularists success in finding their missing sense of community; a void that causes many to long for a bygone era of tribal life, blind to the incredible brutality of that age. But I honestly doubt that they will fill the emptiness they feel without religion and some of the attendant supernatural elements that they presently find so repugnant.

Downtown Salt Lake City on a Friday Night

My wife and I drove to Salt Lake City last night on a multi-tasking trip. We combined a date with picking up our son and a couple of friends from the university. But before bringing them home, we took them to a concert for which they had tickets that was at a venue near The Gateway.

We would have left the crew to get to the concert on their own, and then we would later have picked them up. But they needed to bring gear with them for the weekend and we didn't want to make a run from 5th West back up to the university, which would have added nearly an hour to our trip, getting us home even later.

Besides, we figured that we'd do something in town while the college kids were attending the concert. Our big mistake here was failing to plan in advance. We assumed that there were so many things to do in downtown Salt Lake City on a Friday night that we'd have no trouble finding something.

But the downtown area has changed a lot in recent years. With projects like City Creek Center, the downtown area has been a perpetual construction zone for several years running. So much has changed that many of the venues with which I was once familiar have moved or no longer exist. We didn't know what to expect, but we were sure to be able to find something to do.

Unfortunately, given the fact that I do not follow sports at all, we were unaware that there was a basketball game going on at the Energy Solutions Arena. All of the downtown parking spots were crammed. Traffic was terrible. After dropping the concertgoers, we drove east for a number of blocks before seeing someplace we could park.

We pulled into the City Creek Center underground parking. It is very clean and nice. But it is also unfinished. There are lots of escalators and elevators designed to take people to the surface, but zero of them were functional. We wandered around the very well-lit parking terrace until we saw people coming from the north. We backtracked the way they had come and discovered a 'temporary pedestrian path.' We followed this path as it went on and on and on until we found ourselves in the lower level of the Joseph Smith Memorial Building.

It was after 8 pm by this time. We knew that we could dine at The Garden or The Roof, which are in the building. Both are open until 10 pm on Fridays. But I'm not particularly fond of the fare at The Garden, and while The Roof is grand, so are its prices. It's someplace to go for a very special occasion. Maybe some other time. The Nauvoo Cafe and the Lion House Pantry are OK, but they both close at 8 pm.

We thought that, given how well lit City Creek Center was across the street from the JSMB, there certainly must be someplace to eat over there. We headed across the street, only to find the place largely deserted. You'd think that a venue like City Creek Center would post directories like they do at other similar developments. Maybe that kind of thing will come in the future. At least, we couldn't find anything like a directory last night.

We ducked into Deseret Book to get out of the cold. I checked the City Creek Center website on my smartphone. I was impressed with how well the mobile site was designed as well as its snappy response. But the only restaurant that was in operation at all was the Blue Lemon. We checked it out, but frankly, it didn't look like it was ready for prime time to us.

By this time it was a little before 9 pm and the entire district seemed like a ghost town. We decided to head back to our car. Although the parking terrace was just below our feet, we couldn't figure out how to access it directly during this construction phase. So we retraced our steps through the JSMB and made the long trek back to our car.

It was late and I was hungry. We were running out of time, because the college kids would need to be picked up before long. So we headed to the closest fast food establishment we could think of, ate in a hurry, and then went to pick up the concertgoers.

Although we had only a few blocks to drive, the basketball game had recently ended, so the traffic was appalling. Somehow we eventually arrived at the concert venue. As we waited for the crew to come, we saw people dropping off their young teens to attend a rave at the place. Many of the young girls we saw were wearing extremely brief and tight—uh, I'm not sure what to call them. I'd say pants, but they barely managed to cover the crotch. I suppose the parents of these kids were then freed up to go home and get high without the kids around.

Getting out of the downtown area was a bit of a chore as well. We ended up in a slow moving line of vehicles that were waiting to get onto the freeway. It stretched for blocks. I figured that we didn't need to play that game, so I split off and took an alternate route that sported surprisingly little traffic. I guess the standard sheep tendency common in crowds prevailed among the basketball revelers.

We finally arrived home a little before 11 pm, which was earlier than I had expected. In the future when venturing into downtown Salt Lake City, I will make sure to check to see what else is happening in the area so that I can be better prepared. I will also make more definite plans as to where to go and what to do rather than just leaving those questions open. And I plan on avoiding City Creek Center at least until after its grand opening on March 22.

Our First Home

After my wife and I became engaged, it took us about a week to settle on a wedding date. Once that was settled, we had about four months to figure out where we were going to live.

Despite being employed in a career position and being in my mid-20s, I was still living at my parents' home. My wife-to-be was in her final year of college and was living with her grandmother. Since neither of us was living on our own, neither of us could just move in with the other.

We began by shopping for apartments. But one day we happened to look at a booklet full of real estate listings. We did some calculations and realized that the monthly payment for some of the entry level homes on the market wouldn't be much different than a monthly rental payment for an apartment that wouldn't be anywhere near as spacious as even a small home.

Of course, being somewhat naive, we failed to calculate things like utility costs, property taxes, and homeowner insurance. But in the end run, it all worked out.

We began by looking at condominiums. We nearly settled on one, but we had some questions and the seller simply didn't respond. So we returned to the real estate listings and found several small homes in the area where we wanted to live that cost only a bit more than the condos at which we had been looking.

The first few of these homes didn't seem right for us. I recall walking through one that was in good shape that was marketed as a "story book" style. It was narrow and tall. While it had many beautiful features, the lengthy staircases were so steep as to make it undesirable.

Finally we looked at a home that was only a block away from where some good friends lived. When we arrived we discovered that the real estate magazine showed the wrong picture for the home. That was actually good, because I didn't much like what I saw in the picture.

The home was only three years old. It was small. It had two bedrooms and one bathroom. Finished space amounted to about 900 square feet. The 400-sq-ft basement could include a family room, bedroom, bathroom, and laundry/utility room. The lot was tiny. The carport shared a wall with the neighbor's home, which was a precise copy of this home, except that the floor plan was flipped.

The price was right because it was a distressed sale. A couple with two young children were divorcing. The husband had already moved out of state. They were way behind on their mortgage payments. They had been trying to sell the home for several months with no success. So they ultimately decided to throw in their appliances. Since we owned no appliances and the price was right, this seemed like the best deal for us.

We soon made an offer on the home and began to learn the ropes of home mortgage financing. I put down some money I had in savings along with money given by my parents as a down payment. And about six weeks later I moved into the home with a month to spare before our wedding. My wife moved in after our honeymoon.

It soon became clear as to why the previous owners had had difficulty selling the home. The home didn't have a problem. The neighborhood did. The neighborhood was pretty much all starter homes of several (small) sizes. There were several basic floor plans. The whole subdivision had been built over a fairly short period during a time of skyrocketing interest rates.

Smaller homes allowed families to afford their first home. But the high interest rates presented difficulties. The only way many families could afford mortgage payments was to accept mortgages that had low interest rates in the first couple of years, with these reduced rates being subsidized by higher rates in later years.

Marketers pushed these loans by suggesting that the families would naturally increase their income over time so as to be able to afford the higher mortgage payments that would necessarily come. If rates fell, they said, the families would be able to refinance to the lower rate. It did work out that way for some families, but not for others.

Many families did not see their income increase. By the time lower rates came along, these people were behind on their continually increasing payments, so they could not qualify to refinance. As my wife and I took walks around the neighborhood we saw home after home vacant and in foreclosure.

This had an impact on the culture in the neighborhood. There were many great people in the area. But the atmosphere of the neighborhood seemed oppressive. It was like a gray pall hanging over the place.

Moreover, we became acquainted with several families that had the same home model as us, but that were crammed too tightly in the place after adding several children. We could see ourselves stuck in a similar condition.

During the time we lived in the neighborhood, our careers were taking off and we were seeing pay increases. So we eventually decided to sell our home and build a new home in another part of the county. We put an ad for our home in the newspaper and were surprised to sell it within a couple of weeks.

The buyers were happy to buy our home and we were happy to sell it. We left the neighborhood and embarked on the adventure of building a new home. We missed some of the friends we had made. But we didn't miss the neighborhood.

I'm glad we started out with a home rather than an apartment. I'm glad that a home became available that suited our needs when we first got married. But I am also glad that we moved from that home before having children.

Fulfilling Our Assignment

At the Saturday evening session of our stake conference last November, our stake president asked who of those present would commit to personally identifying a deceased relative and then clearing that person for Temple ordinances. This was to be no idle promise. Each person making the commitment was asked to raise his/her hand. The name of each person was recorded.

The stake president admonished us not to jump in and do the Temple work right away for these people. Rather, we were to sit tight and await further instructions that would revolve around our upcoming ward conferences.

We have done much family history work over the years, following in the steps of other faithful relatives. Although we have many holes in our respective lines, all of the easy stuff is gone. Gone are the days when we gathered a number of relatives to take care of 150 baptisms in a single day. We now have to work hard for every single name.

But we sustained our stake president and we went to work completing the task we had promised to do. With guidance from the Spirit and the use of New Family Search, the members of our family that were under covenant were each soon able to clear at least one name for ordinance work.

And then we waited.

As our ward conference approached, we wondered what we were supposed to do with the names we had cleared. Then one Sunday a member of the bishopric asked that we supply these names for our ward conference Temple endowment session, having completed the other needed ordinances. It might have been nice if this had been mentioned earlier so that we could have more time to prepare.

This put us in a difficult spot. If we were going to do baptisms for the dead, we wanted our children that were of appropriate age to act as proxies for our deceased relatives. But finding a time to do that in the few remaining days presented a serious scheduling challenge.

Finally we determined that the only time that could work would be yesterday evening. We made arrangements for one of the grandmas to pick up our two younger kids from school, along with the class pet bird that we had agreed to watch for the weekend. As soon as child #1 and #3 were home from school, we dressed properly and embarked on a 65-minute drive to fetch child #2 from the university.

Since the Salt Lake Temple was closed for its annual two-week winter maintenance, we drove 35 minutes to the Bountiful Temple. Friday evenings are among the busiest times at LDS Temples along the Wasatch Front. So it still took quite a while to accomplish the small handful of ordinances we had cleared.

By the time we finished, everyone was hungry, so we stopped at a local fast food establishment. We were hurrying because child #2 had another commitment at the university. After ordering, we were reminded that the establishment took only cash or check.

With steadily fewer businesses taking checks, we rarely have our checkbook with us. I rarely carry much cash. My wife checked her purse and found a few dollars. The children checked their wallets and we pooled our cash, only to come up 40 cents short. The cashier told us that we were fine. But it was embarrassing.

Still, we had our meal, and then made the drive back to the university to drop off child #2 on time. Then we drove an hour to get home, so that our total trip took just under six hours. Thankfully the roads were in excellent condition and we weren't fighting weather.

I explained to the children that this expenditure of time and other resources to do Temple ordinances for a few people might seem somewhat extreme. But I wanted them to know that we felt deeply that it was very worthwhile. After all, I am certain that God cares for these individuals more than we can possibly comprehend at present. And I felt it was important to follow the counsel of our church leaders in this matter.

I am grateful for the experience we had in the Bountiful Temple last night with most of our nuclear family members. I am grateful for an opportunity to serve. I am grateful for inspired church leaders.

I'm not sure why our stake and ward leaders didn't make it clear from the outset of this assignment that the preparatory ordinances needed to be finished by a certain date. But once this was made clear, having the deadline provided a framework for yesterday's experience. So while I would have preferred better communication, I am not sorry for the outcome.

Groundhog Day

My earliest memories of Groundhog Day are from second grade. I'm sure it was mentioned before that, but it never made an impression on me until then. It seems like a simple concept, but I had difficulty understanding it.

Throughout my elementary years I was confused as to which condition was supposed to yield two or six additional weeks of winter. The whole connection between whether some critter sees its shadow on a given day and future climactic conditions never made much sense to me as a child.

As an adult, I now realize why Groundhog Day made little sense to me as a child. Despite what various Internet sources suggest might be the impetus for this eccentric commemoration, I am convinced that the folklore behind the tradition was developed by people that were very drunk.

I guffawed when I saw a link to an ABC News story that carried the headline, "Punxutawney Phil Isn't Always Right." Gee, ya think? A bunch of guys in Victorian era formal wear yanking a critter out of its den in some remote outpost in Pennsylvania and pronouncing whether the animal has seen its shadow or not is hardly a rational basis for extended weather forecasting. (I guess, kind of the same way that "Strange women lying in ponds distributing swords is no basis for a system of government.")

It is unlikely that many actually believe that some groundhog's view of its own phantasm accurately predicts weather patterns. It is far more likely that people take an interest in the matter simply for its whimsical value. It's a non-serious departure from the many serious matters with which we are constantly bombarded.

As for this Groundhog Day, I was blessed to take a day off work to accompany my son's class on a ski trip to Snowbasin. The day turned off quite grand. It was mostly sunny and relatively warm. Traffic at the resort was quite light.

For the first couple of hours, the students were all taking part in group ski lessons. So I was free to roam the mountain. It has been a long time since I skied at Snowbasin. Since it became a venue for the 2002 Winter Olympics, the cost of skiing at the resort has become cost prohibitive. But the group rate allowed me to ski today.

I was able to carve down hills that I haven't skied since I was a teenager. I skied terrain that I had never previously traversed. Despite the low amount of snowfall this winter, the snow base with the addition of manufactured snow provided a very nice surface for skiing. I went down a number of black diamond runs (although, with less aggressiveness than in my earlier days). My quadriceps are already complaining with soreness.

But I had a great day. For much of the day I had a smile on my face that wouldn't go away. As I glided down the sparsely populated slopes in the sunshine, I thought about Groundhog Day. I'm not sure whether there are any animals similar to groundhogs at Snowbasin. And frankly I don't care. But I'm sure that such an animal would necessarily have seen its shadow up there.

So what? It makes no difference whatsoever. All I know is that I had a very enjoyable day skiing.

Three Consecutive Winter Camp Weekends

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Love Gets Better With Time

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wet Klondike Derby

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Heading to Klondike Derby Again

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Another Voter Questionnaire

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Personality Affects Weight

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Data Based Policies

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Angels We Have Heard

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Puppy Wars

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

School Music Programs

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My Dream

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Let the journey continue.