Misquoting the Savior

"I never said it would be easy. I only said it would be worth it."

Don't waste your time looking for the scriptural reference, because Jesus never said it.  What?  How can that be?  I can purchase this lovely picture and quote at Deseret Book - that makes it doctrine, right?

Nope.  He never said it. Either part. I wonder how He feels about being misquoted. Actually, He did say something almost exactly opposite.  That it could be easy.

Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.

Matthew 11:29-30

So, as a service to you, I decided to try and figure out where the saying actually came from. There are several possibilities.

1) It is taken from a much larger quote - author unknown:

‘I never said it would be easy, I only said it would be worth it. I never said there wouldn't be tears, I just promised to be there if there was. I never said it would be true love, I only said you'd know if it was. I never promised it would be forever, I only said to love unconditionally and generously with no recognition of time. I never said to hold on at all costs, I only said one day you'd have to let go and be free. I never said you'd get the rainbow without getting through the rain, I only said the sun is always brighter than the storm. I never said you wouldn't cry, or feel like your heart had died. I never said you wouldn't change inside. And if I had, I'd have lied...”

2) It was said by Mae West.  Yup. That Mae West.  (Makes you wonder how many LDS homes display Mae West quotes.)

Good Reads attributes the quote to her on their website.  (link here)

3) The internet Q&A website ChaCha said that it was Moroni quoting Malachi. (here)

Oops!  At least they know who Moroni and Malachi are! Funny how even ChaCha associates the quote with the LDS Church.

Since the search has been somewhat inconclusive. If any of you have absolute knowledge of where this quote came from, let me know. 

I’ll admit, whether Jesus or Mae West said it, it is a reassuring thought. Especially when trying to get through a bumpy night.


Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, Mormon Humorist, LDS Comedy, Daddy Blog

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As Mike Brady Would Say: "Caveat Emptor"

On Monday this ancient Mayan Relic was sold at a Paris auction for 4.1 million dollars.

$4,100,000.00

Then they figured out is was a fake. Cuss!

Next time I am going to instruct my 3rd Grader to be more careful in art class, and make sure the sandals are period specific. I thought he knew that the Mayans didn't use leg straps. That was the Nephites. Duh!

He's excited because if he gets it right I'll pay him $10. If I can sell just two of these babies, less taxes and tithing, then I'll be set for life.

News article here.

Also:  If you don't understand the Mike Brady reference, then I am very, very sorry for you. 

Secret Agency: Words

This is a continuation of the discussion that began here.  You might want to read it first.

Sometimes we need to gently discuss the concept of agency with our children. (and by gently discussing I mean no hands around necks and no screaming.) When we do, we often make things confusing by mixing up words and concepts that make it more difficult to communicate.  So, today I will attempt to define some words and draw some distinctions.

Will:  Our desires. 

Free Agency/Agency/Moral Agency: The ability to make choices. "Free independence of mind which heaven has so graciously bestowed upon the human family as one of its choicest gifts" (Teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith, p. 49). 

The term "free agency" was very common throughout the 70s and 80s, but began falling out of favor in the 90s, with the idea of "moral agency" moving forward. It is OK to use the term according to Elder Christofferson. They are essentially interchangeable. So w

e'll run with plain old "Agency".

Dad Agency:  The ability for Dad to do things that the kids cannot do.  (Eating in the living room, for example)

Freedom: The ability to act on our agency.

OK, enough vocabulary, time for a scenario: (Remember, we already established that we cannot take away someone’s agency.)

Just for a ridiculously hypothetical discussion, let’s say I have a teenage son (FOML #2) who hates his job of mowing the lawn. He thinks it is a dumb process, because it will just grow back. He chooses not to do it.  That is his choice.  His will. His agency.  It is impossible for me to take that away. I can’t imagine a way that I could physically force a boy to mow the lawn. I have tried, and they always end up at Urgent Care.  ;)

However...as a result of his poor use of agency, I can curtail his freedom. Boom! You are grounded until you mow the lawn. He still has his agency intact, and the lawn keeps growing.   

Eventually, he will want to talk:

#2: Dad, you are taking away my agency by forcing me to mow the lawn.

Me: Nope. Your agency is intact. I'm not forcing you to do anything. You can continue to choose not to. I am taking away your freedom until you change your mind. There is a difference.

#2: Then you are taking away my agency because you won’t let me go hang out tonight.

Me: No, I can’t take away your agency - President Packer said. Theoretically, you could exercise your agency and sneak out the window to go hang out.

#2: Yeah, like I’m going to do that.

Me: Why not?

#2: Because I would be grounded forever.

Me: Exactly. You would lose even more freedom. So quit telling me I’m taking away your agency.  I can’t, and I’m not. But as your parent I can mess with your freedom as I see fit.

#2: But that’s not fair.

Me: Son, I love you, and you need to learn how to work, and obey. Besides fairness is overrated.

#2:  (walking away) "Mom! Dad is taking away my freedom!"

So the discussion becomes about freedom, not about agency.  And we all understand that all of us exchange agency for freedom all the time. (Traffic laws, IRS etc.)

At this moment, there is absolutely nothing I can do to create a desire in my son to mow the lawn. He may never desire to do it, but eventually, he will choose to do it in order to recoup his lost freedom. He will eventually bend his will, and voluntarily sacrifice his agency.

Often as parents we get all mushy and end up caving in, and restore the freedoms prematurely.  The lesson taught is that if you refuse to bend your will, there are no lasting consequences.  I fail on this part all the time. Other parents entirely avoid the process by never expecting their children to do anything. It’s much easier to “punt”.

- This is one man’s opinion.  What is yours?

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Next step:  Agency and Consequence

Two great things to read regarding this process are:

Neal A. Maxwell "Swallowed Up in the Will of the Faither"

"Man’s Search for Meaning"  by Vicktor Frankl - one of the great examples of how almost all freedom can be taken away, yet one's will and agency remains intact. . http://www.amazon.com/Mans-Search-Meaning-Viktor-Frankl/dp/0807014273

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I need to speak more clearly

Son, I said the drive-through window, not drive through the... oh, nevermind.
Get me a chalupa.


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Secret Agency (or the secrets of agency)

Last fall, there was a big hullaballoo regarding a talk given by President Boyd K. Packer, where he touched on “same sex attraction”. It was a big deal, lots of people shouting about it.

I love President Packer.  I have tremendous respect for him. Let the naysayers say nay. They can account for it later.

Lost in the scuffle was a wonderful teaching about agency.  I believe that the concept of agency is one of the more poorly understood concepts in the church.

Here is what he said; “Agency is precious. We can foolishly, blindly give it away, but it cannot be forcibly taken from us.”

Did you catch that?  Agency cannot be taken away from us – we can only give it away.  So why is that a big deal?  Because it has dramatic impact on the way we parent.  How so?  I’ll give you an example:

I had a friend (who I'll call Rex) who had a teenage son that wouldn’t get up to go to church – he would just sleep in. Here is a paraphrasing of the conversation:

Me:   Do you wake him up for church?

Rex:  No, I leave that responsibility up to him.

Me:   Do you wake him up for school.

Rex:  Yes.

Me:   What’s the difference?

Rex:  Well, he has to go to school.

Me:   So you make him go to school, but you won’t even wake him up for church?

Rex:  I don’t want to take away his agency when it comes to religion.

There!  Did you see that?  Rex had bought into the false idea that a parent can actually take away a child’s agency. Nonsense. It can’t be done. 

Rex continued:  I truly believe that a child should have complete agency.

Me:   So, if your three-year-old chooses to play on the freeway, then you’ll let him?

Rex:  Of course not.

Me:  Then drop the whole “a child should have complete agency” nonsense – because you don't believe it either.

Rex: Then you and I must see agency differently.

Me:  Yeah buddy.

-      That’s all for now – but there is a lot more.  If you would like me to continue sharing my untold wisdom about agency, and how it applies to parenting, let me know.  There’s more – much, much more. Enough to make your brain hurt. (But it's a good kinda hurt)

Here is the link to the talk by President Packard.

Here is the reference to the General Conference talk by President Packard last October:

http://lds.org/general-conference/2010/10/cleansing-the-inner-vessel?lang=eng

The next segment of this discussion is here.

Message Received

My Eternal Companion (EC) and I were on the road today. As I was zooming down the freeway at about 80mph, It occurred to me that I needed to check my email.  So I did.

I had only hit one or two of the bumps on the side of my lane when the following conversation resulted:

EC:  You are really scaring me the way you are driving!

Me:  Geez! Then close your eyes and don't watch.

- It was quickly brought to my attention that this was not the correct response.

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Woe B.Y. unto U.

I rushed home from work because it was game night - armed with the necessary ingredients for buffalo wings, which I had been craving since I posted this earlier today.  We all sat down to watch the game.

Halftime - so far, so good.  We paused, and happily ate too many wings.  (Thankfully a few pieces of celery makes them all fit together on the food pyramid.)

The game resumed, ending with a sickening thud.  It was over.

As men do, I felt the need to express my frustration and disappointment. So, after the game I sat down to write a sonnet to express my distress. Not just any sonnet - an Italian "Petrarchan" sonnet.

You may ask "Why?"  

Because I can. Even with leftover sauce on my fingers, and blue cheese on my #32 jersey.

My house is a house of sorrow tonight,

For the men in Cougar Blue really blew.

The incredible Jimmer show is though,

And now I am free this Saturday night,

Which will make my EC cheer with delight.

To the Cougars, our laud and praise are due,

But Jimmer, why not settle for the two?

That last pair of free throws was heaven sent.

Poor Kyle will always remember the miss.

That miss was the beginning of the end,

Alas, we can now go on with our lives.

As we move forward, I can tell you this,

Instead of watching Jimmer – our dear friend,

Now we can pay attention to our wives.

Dedicated to my eldest.

An Open Letter to The Chicken Wing Farmers of America

Yesterday I came across an interview on ABC News with the CEO of Sanderson Farms, the 4th largest providers of chicken wings in the country.  He was lamenting that an NFL lockout would be "a major blow" to his industry.  Apparently 13.5 BILLION wings are sold each year - many at sports bars during NFL season. I felt the need to reach out to him, and enlighten him.


To My Dear, Dear Wing Providers:

With the lockout looming, I feel it might be the right time for you to address a few important issues. If you give heed to my words, you shall gain respect in the eyes of true wing lovers everywhere, and they will help you through this difficult time.

1) Boneless buffalo wings are not wings. And you're not fooling anyone.  We know they are just glorified chicken strips- you know - toddler food.  And I know why:  Because so many people like the real wings that it actually became cheaper to use breast meat than wings. What? Yes, I'm spilling the beans on this one. And the New York TImes has my back.  Boneless chicken wings? It goes against all that is good and natural. Can you imagine a chicken flapping boneless wings?  It would look like Sister Ogilvie leading the music in primary.

2) Just because everyone can make wings, doesn't mean that everyone should.  I consider myself a wing connoisseur, and would politely ask you to stop selling wings to just any old place with a deep fryer.  I fear that one day we will walk into McDonalds and find the 6 piece McWings with Ranch.  First of all McDonalds?  Secondly, a six pack?  Who eats just six wings?  I digress. The point is, quit selling them to everyone, and you will gain respect.

3) You've been ripping us off for years. I only feel a tiny bit of pity for your plight, since some places get from 50¢ to 75¢ a wing (a section not the whole thing), and you get your cut.  $9 for a dozen wings?  What? I remember when they were 15¢ a piece, and you were thrilled to get that much for a throwaway item.

4) Blue cheese is the true and everlasting dressing for wing dipping.  There are many who have been blinded by the craftiness of men and have settled for Ranch, but that does not make it right.

I am hoping is that the NFL lockout causes the laws of supply and demand to force the price of wings back to earth. However, I will continue enjoying this culinary marvel either way. But I will do it at home, because homemade wings are half the price, and just as good. (And I'm not talking about the wings that already have the sauce on them, that you just stick in the oven. They are a soggy abomination.)

Should the NFL close for business, I would like to let Mr. Sanderson, along with all other poultry producers, know that I will do my part to help them survive this rough patch.  But 13.5 billion is a lot of wings. I might need me a Costco-size bottle of Tums.

Good luck with your lockout. I'll bring the napkins.

MMM

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Choose Your Poison

The following is an absolutely true account of a conversation I eavesdropped overheard while fine-dining at KFC with my EC the other day. Two thirty-something-ish women were engaged in a serious, and kinda loud, conversation.  I'll call them Deb & Jen:

Deb:  Well, we finally got my parents off of soda.
Jen:   What do you mean?
Deb:  Oh, I thought you knew. My parents are huge soda addicts.
Jen:  What do you mean by "huge"?
Deb:  They both drink several two-liters everyday. It is disgusting.
Jen:  That is so bad for you.
Deb:  Yeah, all that sugar and chemicals. So we decided we needed to tell them to stop. We all got together and confronted them about it, and they actually stopped completely.
Jen:  That's good, right?
Deb: Yeah, but now they're drunk all the time.


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FHE: Shoot Me Now.

The time:    9:00pm
The day:     Monday
The place:  In my bedroom. Hiding.

(I'm writing this on Monday night, but I need to read it tomorrow morning before I post it. (Next morning - a couple edits))

Sigh. We just finished having our weekly Family Home Evening. Some go great, some go OK, tonight was a disaster.  I had actually spent some time preparing a nice lesson building on last Sunday's church lessons about Christ's use of parables in His teaching.

I should have known it was destined for failure right from the opening song:  One of the FOMLs sat down at the piano and chose to play "Nearer My God to Thee", a song that reminds me of funerals. About halfway through, I realized that I was the only one singing. Nobody knew the words. I asked everyone to stop, and asked if we needed to pick another song that everyone knew.  My EC suggested that we get hymnbooks instead.  What seemed like an hour later, we ended up singing together. At least it looked like it - I couldn't hear anyone, but this time their lips were moving.

Trying to teach a lesson that can be understandable for a 4th grader, and still interesting for teenagers is a challenge, but I pressed forward with pure intent.

About 2 minutes in, my 4th grader was absorbed by trying to flatten out the bent corners of his scriptures, the middle FOML was staring off into space, thinking about who-knows-what, and my 18 year-old was reading the "scriptures" on his iPhone.  I looked at my EC, she looked back at me and shrugged her shoulders, looking as defeated as I felt. The boys didn't even notice.

Argh!  Nothing was connecting.  They didn't want to listen, they didn't want to be there, and the Spirit had decided that he would rather be watching Dancing With the Stars. I can't blame him.  The bright side is that we weren't actually fighting - which is how my I spent my youth on Monday nights.

We closed with the song "Put Your Shoulder to the Wheel" after arguing about whether that was the title, or if it was "The World Has Need of Willing Men".  Of course we had to drag out the hymnbooks again to verify.

The middle FOML said the closing prayer and blessed the refreshments. It was the only time the kids actually perked up. We didn't have any. So, I went to the outside freezer, took my last glorious pint of Ben & Jerry's, split it three ways and gave it to the boys.  They were glad, but not as excited as they should have been, considering it was "Everything but the..." flavor. (see previous post here.)

I told the kids to get busy with their homework, and beat a hasty retreat to my room with my EC in tow. (Boy that Ralph Macchio hasn't aged a bit, and he sure can dance.)

And we will try it again next week. I promise.

Why?  Because I know that it isn't always like this, and that it is worth it. I know that the promises of holding weekly FHE are just too fabulous to pass up. Don't know what I'm talking about?  Then dig in:

Elder James E. Faust
Enriching Our Lives Through Family Home Evening

Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin
Spiritually Strong Homes and Families


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Potty Mouth & SSWs

Last autumn my youngest was walking around the house saying "Bloody Hell!"  We were a bit taken aback, and asked him why.  He told us that he was practicing to be Harry Potter for Halloween. We reluctantly taught him about profanity. (Reluctantly, because it was dang funny.)


But oh my flippin’ heck!  Even when you have done your best to banish actual swear words from your vocabulary, there are substitute swear words all around.  I think we would all agree that they are a common crutch in our modern vernacular.

Everyone seems to have a favorite SSW (substitute swear word) and most of us use them often. (I'm speaking of those who have matured to a point where they have left the real swear words behind.)

I need help finding something new to say - quickly - before the BYU-Florida game on Thursday.

Before diving in, let me make a distinction:  There are PROFANE SSWs, and there are VULGAR SSWs. 

• Profanity comes from the latin “profanus”, which literally means “outside the temple.”  We consider speaking irreverently of God and sacred things as profane.

• Vulgarity comes from “vulgaris” or “of the common people.”  Of course those pesky “commoners” use a coarse and crass language because they done lack good breedin' and refinement.

Profane SSWs:

• The term OMG has gone viral.  My eight-year-old FOML has little friends who use the phrase constantly.  Some would argue that the third commandment isn’t talking about this, but my heart disagrees.  (Exodus 20:7)  You hear it everywhere, full out, and abbreviated.

• Oh my GOSH!  (My mom used to say this, and sometimes she would unintentionally drop the end – the whole family would flinch and look at each other).

• Geez, Cheese and Crackers, Judas Priest.  Same idea, different member of the Godhead.

“Holy” anything.

• Dang, Darn & Heck are just religious words gone astray.

Vulgar SSWs:

• Freakin’, Flippin’ Fetchin’, F-ing, Effin, Fudge, are all “F” words.  Simple enough. It is still the "Queen Mother of all swear words."

• Bigtime new offender: WTF.

• Shoot & shucks are words plays on the sound of the “S” word.

• Crap and crud are scatological as well.  I know some ladies who are fond of using poo and poop as an expletive.  Highly unbecoming to "Daughters of Zion".

And there are many more... you get the point.

What all of these SSWs have in common is that they are replacing a profane or vulgar expression – but not hiding what is really meant – or interpreted by the hearer.  You might innocently say “Oh my gosh”, but that may not be what my brain registers. Especially if the word is a close SSW.  Isn't there something else we can say? I am looking for words that do not sound or feel like the real thing.

So, I am asking you to help compile a list of your favorite Non-Associated SSWs that I can use.  Because, crap, I have a dang good vocabulary, and I don’t want to fall back on these freakin’ SSWs anymore.  I'm trying to be a saint here, you know!

I will employ my vast wisdom to serve as the judge and jury as to whether your suggestion may be added to the list.  If I veto your word, please do not take offense and cuss me out.  I will explain.  Please contribute and I will cite you as the contributor. If you can't, or won't post a comment, email me at middleagedmormonman@gmail.com. Multiple submissions welcome.

The List: 

Yikes!

Rats!

Blurgh! (Tina Fey on 30 Rock)
Good Gravy!  (Anna - also the Cowboys on Amazing Race)
Barnacles! (JRiggles - Spongebob)
Sweet Niblets! (Mintifresh - Billy Ray Cyrus)
Oh My Heart! - Mintifresh
Grrrrrrrr   (Jaymi)
Oh Man!  (Jaymi)
Devlin! (In the Doghouse from "Just Go With It")
Bother!  (Anonymous - Winnie-the-Pooh)
Garbage (Anonymous)
Cuss! (Stacy Q - Fantastic Mr. Fox)
Boy Howdy! (Stacy Q - Cold Sassy Tree)
Ratzafratzenfrickenlooper (Ardis - close to a veto for "fricken" buried in there)
Ah, Snap! (The mysterious Kandis) (This one is up for debate)
Dagnabbit!  (Stephanie - Approved by my EC. I'm on the fence)
Suckbuckets (Lindberg - crass, but barely acceptable)
Great Scott! (Lindberg - Doc Brown, Back to the Future)
Great Honk! (Lindberg - Tommy Jeters, The Music Man)
Good Grief! (Carrie, Charlie Brown)




Vetoed:
Rubber Duck  (rhyme)
Holy Mother of Pearl (religious)
Fruitcake (F-word)
Holy Toledo/Holy Dorito (religious)
sunuva-BISH-op (duh! Someone is missing the point)
Sheebah (Biblical and "sh"-based)
Shazbot (Mork - just plain dated, and "sh"-based)
Got down, sat on a bench (You aren't fooling anybody)

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Quotes on profanity:

“Profanity is the attempt of a lazy and feeble mind to express itself forcefully”

“When a man uses profanity to support an argument, it indicates that either the man or the argument is weak - probably both”

“Profanity is the common crutch of the conversational cripple.”

Good talk on the subject from Elder Dallin H. Oaks: http://lds.org/ensign/1986/05/reverent-and-clean?lang=eng


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What Does That Have to Do With the Price of Dogs in China?

We have a dog.  All of the FOMLs love him. So does my EC.  I admit, he's a pretty cool dog.  He is definitely the best trained dog we have ever had - doesn't shed, and doesn't poop in the house.  That's really all it takes to make him a good dog in my book. Even though he did cost $500.

I read this morning that a dog in China was recently sold for $1,250,000.  Yes, One and a quarter million. Dollars. Not Yen. Good thing there is not a global recession going on.  This is the dog:

He is a Red Tibetian Mastiff puppy that will end up being three feet tall, and weigh 180lbs.  That is a big dog! But for over a million dollars, he better have specific skills.  To be worth that much money, he would need to:

• Know how to speak English and Chinese fluently.

• Come with his own Pei Wei restaurant where I could get the Pad Thai bowl for free, anytime I want it.

• Know how to eat with chopsticks.

• Have been trained in the martial arts by Jackie Chan himself.

• Be able to convince my son to finish his Eagle.

• Make really cool origami animals.

• Come with Zhang Ziyi as a personal groomer.

• Taste REALLY delicious in stir-fry - you know  "wok the dog".

• Teach my Sunday School class when I'm out of town.

• Pick up his own poop in the backyard, and mow the lawn afterwards.  (I would spring for a riding mower)

• Have connections with the Apple factories in China and get all the newest stuff for free.

• Be an rabid anti-communist.  (You see how I made a play on words with "rabid". Pretty clever, huh?)

• Come with his own personal "Great Wall" for my backyard,  because I wouldn't want my dog ($1,250,000) to be squished by a 1983 Buick Park Avenue ($900).

Footnote:

If you are old enough, you might recognize the title as being a play on "What does that have to do with the price of tea in China", a saying that I have not heard for a long time.  And that is a good thing.  When people would say it, I always wanted to punch them.

For the original news report on the dog, click here.

BTW: Go Cougars! 

There's a Word for That: Melisma

(Deep breath, pause for dramatic effect)

All right, here it goes:  My EC and I follow American Idol. There, I said it.  I'm sure you are disappointed in me because by now you have learned to expect more.

In my defense, I would like to point out that due to great wisdom, economy and a DVR, we are able to watch an entire 2-hour episode in 11 minutes.  An average results show takes 7 minutes, unless the Black Eyed Peas are playing, then we can push it down to 4.

One may ask, "Why do you abuse the fast forward button?"  The answer is our word for the day:  Melisma.

Defined:  Melisma is the singing of a single syllable of text while moving between several different notes in succession. Music sung in this style is referred to as melismatic, as opposed to syllabic where each syllable of text is matched to a single note.

Melisma had it start in gospel music, but it seems that every singer in AI tries to outdo each other with all the crazy runs.  Sometimes I wonder if they can't find the note, so they just sing all of them.  The only genre that seems to have even remotely escaped is rock.


Melisma drives me crazy.  I am old enough to personally thank Whitney Houston and Mariah Carey for helping destroy music. Christina Aguilera took it to a whole new level. Once in a while it works. It is like frosting on cupcakes - some is OK., too much and too fancy ruins it.  Most of the time it sounds like the singer is just showing off, which reenforces the importance of the fact:


 - Just because you can do something, doesn't mean you should-


I am afraid that it has become so commonplace that people don't even notice it anymore. Or -gasp- perhaps they have even grown to like it.  Maybe I'm showing my age, but I think it gets ridiculous. 


So, next time Stefano, Pia, or Thia Megia (Dr. Seuss anyone?) or anyone else starts of on their crazy show-off runs, remember the word melisma.


If you are listening to Jacob Lusk, know that I am not. Until he can learn to pick a note that actually is in the melody, I'm sitting on the FF button.  I would much rather hear Steven Tyler scream.

Cougar Dew

Jimmermania, and the NCAA's that are underway has made me nostalgic for my college days.  I was greatly blessed to attend BYU in the year that it mattered.  1984.  Of course I am talking about Sharlene Wells becoming Miss America.  Somewhat lost in the shadow of Miss America was that BYU also had a pretty good football team that year.

As BYU worked its way up the national polls, all the way up to National Champions, life on campus was crazy.  I remember ESPN coming to broadcast a pep rally at The Star Palace. I swear, it was the only time I ever went to the Star Palace. Promise!  It was an exciting time.  I don't remember anything that actually had to do with education from that year. I imagine life on campus must be quite similar these days.

One of the high points of that year was piling in the car with my friends and heading to some of the away games. Road Trip. And I can't think back about BYU road trips without fondly recalling my two favorites:

Yes, Mountain Dew and Zingers.  Breakfast of Champions.  Like strawberries and shortcake, like Ben & Jerry.  I could drive all night with an adequate supply of these babies. Be advised that these are the YELLOW Zingers.  Not the chocolate, or the mutant raspberry.  No, not Twinkies. Don't even...

Of course, I don't think that back in '84 it even crossed our minds if we should be drinking Dew off Campus.  I'm not even sure what the ruling is on that now.  I do know that it served as an effective, and tasty, safety measure for a bunch of football fans heading to Fort Collins in the middle of the night to watch the Y whoop up on CSU.

So, tonight as I watch the Cougars take on the Terriers (smirk), I will sit back and enjoy neither the Dew or the Zingers.

Why?  Because that stuff will kill you.

-----

Disclaimer:  In 1984 BYU did not utilize a red and green Mountain Dew logo on their uniforms or on campus.  I just made that up.

However, the Mountain Dew logo is the real ones from 1984.

Go Cougars!

St. Green Stuff Day

Tomorrow is the day when we celebrate Green.  We call it St. Patrick's Day, but nobody really knows why.  We also eat corned beef and cabbage, but nobody really knows why. We also put food coloring into perfectly yellow eggs, again, nobody knows why.

Disclaimer:  Before I enlighten you about St. Patrick, I should disclose that I am not Catholic, and do not recognize "Saints" - other than those we see every Sunday - they are identifiable because they arrive on time. While this may come as a shock to many of you who are not careful readers, I am, in fact, Mormon.

This is St. Patrick:

He lived in the British Isles in the 4th Century A.D. blah, blah, blah. Patron Saint blah, blah, blah. Snakes, blah, blah, blah.

This is his cool dog:

We don't know much about him, but he looks like he is part poodle.

(Westiepoo?  Schnoodle?)

These are some of the things that he apparently invented:

Green Bowling Balls. Before the 4th Century A.D. they were all black and hand-carved.

Sweet Vans - think Irish Spicoli

Shillelagh

 (Yes I had to look it up shillelagh. I have never typed that word before in my life.)

Now that you are informed and better prepared to celebrate St. Patrick's Day tomorrow without Guiness, remember these three things:

1) Do not pinch me. If you pinch me for not wearing green, I will pinch you back and it will be black and blue.  I don't play fair.

2) Do not feed me green eggs and ham. Especially when the ham looks like zucchini.

3) Increase your chlorine as the weather warms up if you are a pool owner. Algae can take over quickly.

You are very welcome.  Just doing my part.