Things I Learned at Trope Beach

As I mentioned yesterday, I am spending two lovely days at Trope Beach. (Which is code for a Board Meeting).  I sit on the Board of Directors for a Non-Profit organization which I won't name at this time. So yesterday's post was a little on the whiney side. I really don't hate going to these meetings at all. So, I decided to watch and listen closely yesterday and find some things that I learned that I could share with you. Yes, I realize that I have a duty to help each of you increase your knowledge, even if it is inconvenient for me. I understand sacrificing for the greater good.

Things I learned at the "beach":

• Everybody wants the cilantro ranch dressing with their salad, but they will do their best to hide their disappointment if they get stuck with the avocado vinaigrette.

• There are really amazing people in the world who are willing to do really good things with their time and money.

• The odds of being called on to answer an important question improve dramatically if you are messing around on Facebook.

• Technology has made it much easier to escape a meeting. Just glare at your phone, and walk out shaking your head. Easy.

• The Church does not have a corner on the market for programs and ideas that really help people in need.

• The battery life in my MacBook Pro is not what it used to be.

• Writing on a whiteboard is a skill.  If you don't have it, put down the marker and walk away.

• If someone is speaking with a projector shining into their eyes, you can make faces at them and they won't notice - as long as they are subtle.

• Truism by Margaret Mead: Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed people can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.  (You go, girl)

• Everyone at the meeting secretly wishes they had the audacity to bring in a 44oz beverage to sip on through the day.

• It is more rewarding to work on a good cause than to make money.

• People who act like they know everything are irritating to those of us who do.

So, back to the beach - gonna be a good day!

Life at Trope Beach

Ah yes! While the rest of you are slaving away in your offices and in your homes,

I will be spending the next two days at Trope Beach.

Sitting in the sunshine

     playing frisbee with my kids

        listening to the sound of the waves crashing on the beach

             wiggling my toes in the warm sand

                   drinking icy cold soda

Jealous?

I assume you "have ears to hear", but just in case, here are a few points of clarification:

By "beach" I mean "Board Meeting".

By "sunshine" I mean florescent light.

By "frisbee" I mean "Angry Birds" on my iPhone under the edge of the conference table.

By the "sound of waves crashing" I mean listening to a lot of people talk.  A lot.

By "wiggling my toes in the sand"  I mean slipping my shoes off for a while - on the sly.

By "drinking icy cold soda" I mean lukewarm "Kirkland-brand" water bottles.

Ah yes, two lovely days at "Trope" Beach.

So there won't be a post today - sorry!  But I would appreciate it if you would send me comments so I have something to read at the beach.

I'll Raise You a Lazarus...

Last week I was browsing through the local Dollar Store, looking for the perfect Mother's Day gift,  (That's a JOKE! Calm down ladies!) when I found this:

Yep. It is a 3-Pack of Bible Heroes card games. For a dollar. I would have spent $2 without batting an eye. Remember: "Thou Shalt Not Covet."

So tonight after a lovely dinner courtesy of Del Taco, we broke out the cards and looked at them. I wouldn't go as far as to put them at the same level as Karl Bloch, or Rembrandt, but some of them are fantastic. I am giving the artists the benefit of a doubt and assuming that they are accurate representations of the biblical figures. I have sorted through and pulled out some of my favorites to share with you:

This is James, the brother of Jesus.

I think he looks a lot more like Barry, the brother of Maurice and Robin.

I don't know why Abraham's eyes are blacked out.

Maybe he chose that, rather than watch his 90 year-old wife give birth.

(No, that is not in the scriptures. Here we go again. Calm down ladies.)

Daniel in the Lion's Den.

Nothing special about this. I just love the facial expression on the lion in the front.

This is Peter walking on the water.

If you were alive in the '70s, you might notice that he is not just walking, he's truckin'.

Obviously Peter deserved a second card.

What's with the vulture? Makes me want to sing Jungle Book songs.

And my very favorite...

Lazarus being freed from the tomb.

Or, rather, happily running away from a hole in the ground.

Or maybe he ran away from the tomb, slipped on that flower and fell backwards into an open grave. (?)

(We really don't know much about what happened to him after he was brought back to life.)

Thumbs up!

Button, Button, Who's Got a Button?

I do! I do!

Yes, it is true.  I have a button now. In my quest to be recognized as a skilled and legitimate blogger, I have created a button that you can proudly display on your blog. Just knowing that you are helping spread the message is good for your soul. This is a proud occasion. Let's just call it my "Navin R. Johnson" moment.

Special thanks to Mindi for teaching me how to do the cool blog roll on side of the page. She is a digital goddess. She works for free, and is willing to help anyone and everyone with even the slightest technical problem. Feel free to email her, or even to show up at her house for free tech support. I dare you.

Should you like to be included in my high-tech animated blog roll deelie-bopper, please let me know. It is a relatively pain-free screening process. There are only three there right now, but they are the best of the best. If you are among the chosen, I can guarantee that visits to your blog will dramatically increase no less than 1.5 visits per month. Hard to believe, I know. But it is true. I wield that kind of power in the digital world.

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I do remember playing "Button, Button, Who's Got the Button" when I was a small schoolboy.  I also remember that there was inevitably one kid who would never pass the cussin' button. He would walk around and around faking the handoff without ever giving anyone the button. It drove us crazy. Our 2nd grade teacher is lucky to have never had a "Lord of the Flies" moment.

"Thumbs up, Seven-up" was also one of my favorites.  However, I don;t know if they still play this game due to copyright infringement of the term "7-Up".

Amazing Race: Mormon Edition

My favorite reality show is The Amazing Race. I never miss it - probably because I can somewhat identify with it. During my life I have been very fortunate and have traveled far and wide - I've been on five of the seven continents. (Sorry Ozzies and penguins) New places, languages and cultures fascinate me. 

But, if you are a fan, you can't help but acknowledge that The Amazing Race has a very "non-traditional agenda". And by non-traditional I don't just mean "freak show".  Rarely do you see a happily married couple on the show. Lots of dating couples, gay couples, lesbian couples, siblings, parent/child couples. This year there are absolutely ZERO married couples in the Race. None. It is obviously agenda-driven.

However, I think I can understand why. A few years back, two happily-married couples (Rob & Amber of Survivor fame, and Uchenna and Joyce) left the other competitors so far in the dust that I don't even remember who took third place.

Basically, happily married couples make boring TV. They don't fight, there are no histrionics, they work together, and they are having fun. Who wants to watch that when you can see fireworks and drama in the dysfunctional couples. (Jonathan and Victoria anyone?)

Even less riveting television would be a happily-married Mormon couple. How do I know this? Experience.  My EC and I wouldn't make for very interesting television. We know each other so well we can finish each others sentences, and know what the other wants or needs without asking. We hardly ever fight. We are very efficient when we need to get things done. We would be boring.

Apparently, CBS realized this after they attempted an Amazing Race with a Mormon couple.  I found this "top-secret" transcript of one of the legs of the race online.  Hyrum and Tami were their names, but they never made it on TV.
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Phil's Voice: After the last leg of the Race, the racers find themselves in a small village in the Guangxi Province of China.
Tami opens clue: Roadblock
Phil's Voice:  A Roadblock is a task that only one team member may perform.

Tami reads: Visit the village school and learn the Chinese National Anthem from the students.
Hyrum: I got this. See you in a little bit. (Gives Tami kiss on the cheek, and jogs down the road.)
Tami: This should be easy for him. I think I'll go find something to do.

Later, Tami and Hyrum are reunited at the clue box. Hyrum opens clue.
Phil's voice: Proceed to the next pit stop at the Lijiang River Dock. Warning, the last team to arrive may be eliminated.
Tami and Hyrum begin walking to the pit stop.

Tami: What took so long?
Hyrum: Well, you know I speak Cantonese from my mission, so the song was easy. Since nobody else had shown up yet, I taught the kids our National Anthem too. It was fun.
Tami: I'm glad it was fun, but it still seemed like a long time for two songs.
Hyrum: Well, I noticed that there was a leak in the roof, so I got a couple of guys to help me find some corrugated metal and we fixed it.
Tami: Oh, that was sweet of you. (kiss)
Hyrum: Thanks. What did you do while I was gone?
Tami:  Well, down the road I found an orphanage, so I went in to see what I could do.
Hyrum: How did you do that? You don't speak Cantonese.
Tami:  Well, turns out it was run by French nuns, and I speak French from my BYU Study Abroad semester. They were really sweet.
Hyrum: What did you do?
Tami: I taught the little girls how to make scrunchies for their hair out of scrap cloth. I figured if they could sell some and help fund the orphanage.
Hyrum: That's awesome!  But how are they going to sell them?
Tami:  Well, the sisters had internet access, so I created a blog so that people can make donations and order scrunchies, then I Facebooked it to all my friends.  We had a dozen orders before I left.
Hyrum:  It has been a good day.
Tami:  It sure has.  I love you.

Hyrum and Tami arrive at the mat and look around, but Phil hasn't arrived yet.

Hyrum:  Looks like we beat Phil here again. Third time.
Tami:  While we're waiting. let's go see if we can find someplace that sells Diet Coke. I'm dying.

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See?  It would never work on network TV.

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Goodnight Easter

I had decided to let Easter go un-blogged. It is intensely personal to me, but I decided to share a brief thought before I let go of this day.

During the past decade I lost my mother at 65 years of age, my father at 77 years of age, and my older brother at 47 years of age. All of them too soon. Half of my immediate family has now passed on to the next life.

What does Easter mean to me? The resurrection of Jesus Christ fills me with the exciting knowledge that one day I will see them again - in the flesh. I will be able to hug and kiss my mom and dad. I will be able to crush my brother with a bear hug. I will be able to recount my experiences and learn of theirs. We will be reunited. Forever.

Why? Because my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, son of the Eternal Father, and a mortal mother, was able to return from the world of spirits and be reunited with His body. In a perfect form: Eternal, glorious and powerful. Because He is the Son of God, and He is perfect, and He is powerful.

I love Easter. I love my Savior.

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One more Reese's Egg and I'm off to bed.

Easter Tradtions Run Amok

If you are a kid of Easter Bunny acceptance age, please stop reading. Parents may continue.

My children inherited the same Easter Eve tradition that I had growing up. I don't know where it came from, but it stuck.  On Saturday night, before going to bed, each of the FOMLs would select a pie tin from the kitchen, and a carrot from the fridge, while my EC and I would meander off to our room, to allay suspicions.  The FOMLs would then put the carrot in the pie tin and hide them somewhere in the kitchen or family room. The theory was that the Easter Bunny would then sniff out the carrot, and swap an Easter basket for the pie tin. The next morning, the FOMLs could tell which basket belonged to them by where they had hidden their tin the night before.  (Like I said, I don't know where the tradition started, but we loved it as kids.)

The problems began as the FOMLs got older. And sneakier. The "hiding of the pie tins" began to be an Olympic-worthy event. The older kids went out of the way to find the most difficult hiding places ever devised. What started out as "behind the couch" gradually became "inside the piano" or "wedged up inside the curtain valances". Every year I would spend more and more time searching for these infernal pie tins. It was never spoken of, but I know my older FOMLs loved torturing their poor Easter Dad.

One year, after an especially long and brutal search for the final tin (underneath the contents of the kitchen junk drawer) I vowed that next year would be different. And a year later I remembered that vow. (Usually my vows are forgotten within minutes.)

That next year, before the hiding of the pans, I opened up the blinds on the back of the house, and put our video camera on the back wall. I hit record, and went in and told the FOMLs to hide their pans. As soon as my EC and I were safely sequestered in our room, the FOMLs went to work. They were devilish, taking their sweet time to find the most difficult hiding places imaginable. They came and got us when they were done, and everyone went to bed.

Later, I snuck back outside and grabbed the video camera and watched the tape. I could easily see where every pie tin was hidden. I quickly retrieved each one and replaced them with the corresponding Easter baskets.


The next morning I found extra-great enjoyment watching the kids, knowing I had out-foxed the foxes. Genius might be the right word to insert here. Clever? Resourceful? No, I think I'll stick with genius.

So, if any of your holiday traditions have gone off the rails, I recommend using modern technology.  GPS transponders for Easter egg hunts, anyone?


--I have absolutely no idea if anyone else hides pans for Easter. It does sound odd. But my guess is that many of you have Easter traditions that are unique as well. Please share!

Good Friday? An APE Friday!

I can hear you now: Sacrilege! 

But wait - this is a story from my childhood, not an attack on Easter, so calm down, don't close the window. (Sheesh, I would think you would trust me by now)


When I was but a lad, 13 to be precise, I loved the Planet of the Apes movies. All five of them. Yes. There were FIVE. Besides the first masterpiece, my favorite was Beneath the Planet of the Apes, staring James Franciscus - because he played the cool blind detective Longstreet on TV. (He was also the voice of Jonathan Livingston Seagull, but I forgive easily.) I digress.

In 1974, our local movie theater had a special event called "Go Ape For a Day". For the price of one ticket, you could watch all five Planet of the Apes movies consecutively in one sitting.  Yes, 10 hours of Apeness. We were thrilled. Two of my best friends at the time were a pair of twins that I'll call Mike & Matt, and we decided to go together.

This event was to take place on Friday. School would be out for Easter weekend, and the movies would run from 10am to 8pm. The three of us rode our bikes to the theater the day before and bought our tickets, stopped by 7-11 and went home with our pockets loaded with a 10 hour supply of penny candy. Yes we paid for it. Penny candy was only a penny back then.

The next morning, I said goodbye to my somewhat concerned parents, hopped on my Schwinn Sting-Ray and headed for the twins' house.  I knocked on the door. Mike opened it, looking somber. The conversation that followed is burned into my memory:

"We can't go." Mike said, refusing to make eye contact.
"What?" I asked incredulously.
"Its Good Friday."
"So what? That's why we don't have school."
"Yeah, but we can't do anything fun on Good Friday."
"Why not?"
"Because we're Catholic."
"I know you're Catholic, but Catholics can still go to movies. Right?"
"Not on Good Friday."
"That's crazy. I thought Catholics can do anything." (remember - I was 13)
"Not on Good Friday."
"So you really, truly don't want to go?"
"We want to - but mom says we can't. So...have fun."

Mike sheepishly closed the door. I got on my bike and headed for the theater by myself. Angry. Angry at Mike & Matt. Angry at their Mom. And mostly, angry at the Catholics for taking a perfectly good Friday and ruining it.

So, I went to the theater by myself, hoping to see someone I knew. I didn't. So for 10 hours I subsisted on popcorn, candy, hotdogs and soda - all the time fuming a the Catholics. I still enjoyed the movies, but some of the fun was sucked out of the experience.

My dad came to pick me and my bike up after it was over. He was surprised that my friends weren't there. I explained my frustration with the Catholics. He calmly took the opportunity to teach me about the significance of Good Friday in other religions, but I wasn't buying it, because, even then, I knew that the day that was truly GOOD was Easter Sunday. Eventually I forgave the Catholic Church.

A Good Friday never passes wherein I don't think about Planet of the Apes.
I have a sudden craving for Lemonheads.

101st Post: A Few Last Updates

UPDATE #4

The number one blog post to date is "Potty Mouth & SSWs". Not only is it the most read, but the most commented on.  Thanks for the input.  Here is the list of SSWs that you came up with. These are the ones that were deemed acceptable by my wise and infallible judgement. (I could have been an NBA referee.)

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)

My favorites?  Yikes, Cuss, Garbage & Grrr!

I have attempted to "use these in my daily life", but crap keeps getting in the way.

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UPDATE #5

Racing to a close second place on the blog leaderboard is President Uchtdorf. I listed 10 reasons President Uchtdorf is cooler than me and you. As a special bonus, because you deserve it, I have included Reason #11:

That's right. A double-handed parade wave - with shades!

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UPDATE #6

In "King Potty Mouth" I expressed my desire to see the movie "The King's Speech, and my unwillingness to go because of the "R" Rating. After wining the Academy Award for Best Picture, the producers decided to re-release it in a PG-13 version.

That one I saw. It was a fabulous movie. Brilliantly acted, fascinating character studies. The way they changed the rating was by taking out a sequence of really offensive words and replacing them with a sequence of different offensive words that start with a different letter.

After the movie I couldn't help feel that I had let myself get caught up in the "letter vs. spirit" trap.  Still sorting that one out. Cuss!

100th Post: Updates

Yes, today is my 100th post. Not many by most blogger's standards, but I am quite confident that at least 4 of them were good. To celebrate, I am going to revisit some of those posts and bring you up to speed on what has happened since. As Brother Bueller taught us, "Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it."


Thanks for reading - it makes it much more fun, and I am sure you are all the better for it.  (Even if you are too stubborn, scared, or selfish to sign up as a follower.)


UPDATE #1

On March 24, 2011, I penned an "Open Letter to the Chicken Wing Farmers of America."  I felt it to be such a masterful work, I sent it to the four largest chicken producers in the United States.  Of the four, only Tyson Foods responded:

Dear Mr. MMM:

Thank you very much for your email. Your comments and suggestions have been reported to our Marketing Team and to the Research and Development Team as we continue to improve our selection and service. 

Thank you again for your comments and for your interest in our products.

Sincerely,

Christina Xxxx

Consumer Relations Representative

Tyson Foods, Inc.

I feel I did my part. No need to thank me - it wasn't purely selfless. Strangely enough, neither the Marketing Team nor the R&D Team have contacted me. I guess I will just sit back and await the changes.

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UPDATE #2

On March 12th, 2011, I wrote  in "Mecca Lecca High" about my curiosity regarding the fact that after the United States, most of my blog visits came from Saudi Arabia.  So, in the spirit of fellowship I reached my digital hand across the world to them. In return, they stopped visiting my blog. Entirely.

I am more convinced than ever that it was the Mullahs. Accordingly, I would like to reaffirm that I meant no disrespect when I rhymed your faith with the word "Buzlim".  It was obviously a typo. Please do not cut off my hands. Or let gas get to $5 a gallon.

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UPDATE #3

On March 8, 2011, I posted about "Blogging and Self-Discovery". Of course the discovery ended with ice cream.  I can now report that two weeks ago I did try the new Jimmy Fallon inspired "Late Night Snack" ice cream.

It was OK. The chocolate covered potato chips sounded better than they ended up. They were too crumbled, and actually tasted a bit greasy. Less chip than lump.  Thankfully, there is still "Everything But The..." flavor - another of many signs that God does love us and want us to be happy.

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Thanks again for reading. There are a few more things that need updated, but they will have to wait. I have a life you know.

Family Finances - Penny Style

This is my 99th post.
I figured I should do something worthwhile before I hit the 100 mark.

By exploiting the current trend of using pennies to explain politics, I have created a masterful demonstration of how family budgets work. It did take a great deal of time and talent, but I care about you, and your families. (It's that "charity" thing. Can't help it)

Please learn. You might want to take notes.

Feel free to share this with your friends and loved ones.
You can find it on YouTube here.

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Sunday Naptime Profundity #5: Sacrament

The young men who prepared, blessed, and passed the sacrament to me today

provided me with the greatest service that I could possibly receive this week.

And yes, that includes if a fireman were to pull my lifeless body

out of a burning building and resuscitate me.

-MMM-

Nope. No punchline. This is serious business.

Please take a minute to think about what the sacrament meant to you today.  I know that it can be hard - early church - crying babies - demanding kids - heavy eyelids - but those fifteen minutes could have been - should have been - the most important fifteen minutes of your week.


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Like Unto Me. Sorta.

When I read the scriptures I try and immerse myself in them and apply Nephi's counsel to “liken all scriptures unto us.” (1 Nephi 19:23)

I was reading in Joseph Smith History and found something that I could really relate to on a very personal level:

The morning after his visits with Moroni, Joseph said:  “I shortly after arose from my bed, and, as usual, went to the necessary labors of the day; but, in attempting to work as at other times, I found my strength so exhausted as to render me entirely unable. My father, who was laboring along with me, discovered something to be wrong with me, and told me to go home. I started with the intention of going to the house; but, in attempting to cross the fence out of the field where we were, my strength entirely failed me, and I fell helpless on the ground, and for a time was quite unconscious of anything.” (Joseph Smith History v.48)

I can so relate to Joseph. That is exactly how I felt a few weeks ago when I gave up Mountain Dew. It was terrible for almost a week. The only thing I can figure out is that’s what happens when we rid our bodies of addiction so the Spirit can flow freely.

I think I’ll try it again, someday. Because I’m strong like that.




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Wrong. Just Wrong.

A couple of months ago this item was featured at the CES (Consumer Electronics Show) in Las Vegas.  It is obviously directed at a small niche market. I definitely have some troubles with it, but it might be nice to have one on the boat, just in case.
I imagine Deseret Book will eventually sell it.

(OK, I lied. I didn't see this in Las Vegas.  I made it up after family scripture study this morning.  I will repent. Eventually.)

Great Story. Wise Question.

John Rowe Moyle

First the story, then the question.

One of the classic inspirational stories in church history is the story of John Moyle. A couple years back, President Uchtdorf retold this story in his talk “Lift Where You Stand” as quoted below.

“This year marks the 200th anniversary of the birth of John Rowe Moyle. John was a convert to the Church who left his home in England and traveled to the Salt Lake Valley as part of a handcart company. He built a home for his family in a small town a valley away from Salt Lake City. John was an accomplished stonecutter and, because of this skill, was asked to work on the Salt Lake Temple.

Every Monday John left home at two o’clock in the morning and walked six hours in order to be at his post on time. On Friday he would leave his work at five o’clock in the evening and walk almost until midnight before arriving home. He did this year after year.

One day, while he was doing his chores at home, a cow kicked him in the leg, causing a compound fracture. With limited medical resources, the only option was to amputate the broken leg. So John’s family and friends strapped him onto a door and, with a bucksaw, cut off his leg a few inches from the knee.

In spite of the crude surgery, the leg started to heal. Once John could sit up in bed, he began carving a wooden leg with an ingenious joint that served as an ankle to an artificial foot. Walking on this device was extremely painful, but John did not give up, building up his endurance until he could make the 22-mile (35-km) journey to the Salt Lake Temple each week, where he continued his work.

His hands carved the words “Holiness to the Lord” that stand today as a golden marker to all who visit the Salt Lake Temple."

----

It is a remarkable story of a dedicated man, with a consecrated heart, that bears repeating.

Here’s the question:

One Sunday we were listening to this story, and my insightful EC leaned over and whispered to me:

“I think this story is really sad. You mean to tell me there wasn’t one person in the whole Salt Lake Valley that could lend this poor man a horse or a mule? Didn’t he have a home teacher, or someone in his quorum that could help? Where was his Bishop? It seems like a missed opportunity for service.”

-- You need to understand that my EC is wise like that - always looking for ways to help. I need to remember that if I fail to care for those around me, someone’s suffering might become their legacy, and it probably won’t get talked about in General Conference.

Quote of the Day: Sister Meg Ryan (1990 version)

(Quoted as the character Patricia in Joe vs. The Volcano)

"My father says that almost the whole world is asleep.

Everybody you know. Everybody you see. Everybody you talk to.

He says that only a few people are awake
and they live in a state of constant total amazement."


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Lexicon: Non-Members

When discussing missionary work in our ward, the term "non-members" often comes up.  We use the term "non-members" to describe people who are not of our faith.  Lately, we have been discouraged from using this term, as it is ex-clusive, rather than in-clusive, and some of our friends and neighbors don't care to be labeled as a "non-member". Completely understandable.

The difficulty is finding a way to differentiate between members of the church and non-members without using that term.  So, as we were instructed in Conference to serve more, I have spent some time in your service looking for options to replace the term "non-member".

Ideas

Gentiles:  A little too strong, and can be a little confusing - especially to our Jewish neighbors
FOOF's:  Friends Of Other Faiths. Sounds a little silly, but not as bad as...
POOF's:  People Of Other Faiths. Nope. That's definitely not going to go over well
POOR:  People Of Other Religions. As in he is a POOR man, I am a Mormon
PS:  Potential Saint.  My friend Joe is a PS
Bunko-ites: At least in our neighborhood
TB's:  Terrestrial Buddies (Or Telestial Buddies, depending on the neighbor)
SIP's: Saint in Progress
Guiltmongers: (Like a rumormonger stirs up rumors)
BIF: Blissfully Ignorant Friend
MF: Missionary Fodder
LDS-T: Latter-day Saint Target, vs LDS-A (Active) or LDS-LA (Less-Active or Lazy)
FUSSIN: Friends Unaware Spiritual Salvation Is Needed

After spending long hours coming up with this insightful list of alternatives, I have decided that none of them are adequate to express the relationship we have with those wonderful people who are not of our faith.

I guess I'll just call them my friends.


(This post dedicated to Steve, because he is strange enough to appreciate it.)


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Sweet Thought...Sloppy Doctrine

I had the good fortune of attending the Stake baptism service today to watch a lovely little girl and nine other kids enter the waters of baptism.  It is always a sweet thing.

After a talk on baptism, those children went up to the stand, with their little brothers and sisters in tow. They sang the song "When I am Baptized".

I like to look for rainbows, whenever there is rain

and ponder on the beauty of the earth made clean again.

I want my life to be as clean as earth right after rain.

I want to be the best I can, and live with God again.

--So far, so good...then...

I know when I am baptized my wrongs are washed away.

--Wait.  Hold on just a second.  These are kids who are barely eight or younger. They don't have sins to wash away. That is not why they are there to get baptized at all!

When a child is baptized at eight, the purpose is not to wash away sin. It is for that child to enter into the covenant with God so that the child can repent of future sins.

It bothers me.  It really bothers Mormon:

"Listen to the words of Christ, your Redeemer, your Lord and your God. Behold, I came unto the world not to call the righteous but sinners to repentance; the whole need no physician, but they that are sick; wherefore little children are whole, for they are not capable of committing sin;..."  (Moroni 3:8) In fact, Mormon wrote his son Moroni an entire epistle about this issue which can be found in Moroni chapter 3.

So why do we hear 3-7 year old singing in Primary about having their sins washed away?  Good question. You might be thinking "Relax MMM, not a big deal."  Perhaps, but I do know that whenever I interviewed a child about being baptized, I would always ask the same question:  "Why do you want to be baptized?"  About half the time a child would respond "To have my sins washed away."  (t would have been fun to have kept a buzzer on my desk and shouted "Wrong answer!")

Then, I would have a wonderful conversation with a pure and innocent child about the importance of the baptismal covenants and what it means for their future regarding sin and repentance. Some children had this concept down cold before they came in, to others, it was all new.

So, what about the song?  Should we still sing it in Primary?  Absolutely. It is a sweet song. But, I'd skip the second verse, and save it for converts to the church - because to them, the washing away of sin is one of the greatest miracles of the atonement.

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Sawing Logs

“Laugh and the world laughs with you, snore and you sleep alone.”

-- Anthony Burgess

More often that not, I snore. It is a curse - for my EC.  I wake up with a little bit of a sore throat at worst, but sometimes she has to resort to earplugs. Thankfully, she is incredibly patient with me, and is still willing to let me stay in the bed. 

I appreciate her even more this morning, after reading that an inmate at the Utah State Hospital recently strangled his roommate because he couldn’t sleep due to the roommate’s snoring. (article here)

Yes, it is tragic. Yet, deep down inside a teeny-tiny part of me understands. No, I’m not the murdering type, although it has crossed my mind at Scout camps as I dragged my sleeping bag into the woods to escape the snoring battles. To help you understand, I need to take you back ten, twenty, no, thirty years, when I was at the Missionary Training Center in Provo, UT.  (MTC)

My companion was one of the nicest guys you would ever want to meet. He was kind, funny, and spiritual. But he snored like a stinkin’ freight train. He could shake the walls - at 19 years-old.  I’ll call him “Elder Dean”.

At night, I would race to my bed and try and fall asleep before Elder Dean did.  Sleep-racing is rarely productive, and more often than not, he would fall asleep instantly, (because he didn’t know we were racing) leaving me on the top bunk listening to the cacophony below.

The MTC is arduous even when rested. After several weeks of serious sleep deprivation I was really getting fatigued and cranky. Or as I would say in perfect Spanish: Estoy muy cansado.

One night, out of sheer desperation, I stumbled upon a solution. Peering over the edge of the top bunk, I could see my companion sawing away, facing the edge of the bed. I took my pillow, swung it down, gently hitting him in the face.  He stirred, rolled over, and, for a few glorious minutes, stopped snoring.  I quickly fell asleep, and awoke refreshed and pleased with my new discovery.

It became part of my nightly ritual:  Shower, read scriptures, pray, hit Elder Dean in the face, go to sleep. For the next month it worked perfectly.

Then one night, Elder Dean was really raising the roof, and I did the usual.  Whap. Right in the face.  He stirred and stopped snoring. Phew!  But before I could get to sleep, a voice came up from the bottom bunk. Elder Dean gently said to me, “Elder, I really wish you would stop hitting me in the face with your pillow.”

I’m just glad he didn’t strangle me.

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