Faith vs. Science

I almost forgot about this...

Two weeks ago, scientific research again butted heads with what I have always believed. Scientists from San Diego State University performed experiments and came to the conclusion that a practice many people cling to, is merely a baseless tradition.

I am talking about the 5 Second Rule.

Yes, studies have again disproven the idea that if a piece of food is dropped on the floor, and then picked up within the requisite 5 seconds, germs will not have time to adhere to the surface of the food, and it will be safe to consume. Here is a news report of the study: News Report.

This is not the first study of this kind. A scientist in 2004 won the Nobel Peace Prize for her research into the five-second rule and public health. (But that was before we knew that Nobel Peace Prizes are the societal equivalent of a Cracker Jack toy.)  Even better, Mythbusters debunked the five-second rule - and if Adam and Jamie say it's busted, it's busted.

Yet I am a still bit conflicted. Let's dig a little deeper...

For starters, let's "Shoot the Messenger."

• San Diego State University (SDSU) has been widely known as being one of the Nation's top "Party Schools."  How are we expected to believe research if we don't even know if the researchers were sober or hungover?

• SDSU has a "Surfing Team."  How do we know that the bacteria that stuck to the food didn't come from something one of the students picked up that morning out in the ocean?

• I mean really, how many of these SDSU kids have actual children?

• BYU and SDSU had a 33 year sports rivalry. During that time, BYU won 79% of the football games, and 67% of the basketball games between the two schools.  This has absolutely nothing to do with the study - I just like saying it.


Even if you buy into this idea of "scientific" proof that the 5 Second Rule is not valid, I think we can all find solace in knowing that there are many things we know that were not disproven by this recent study.

The SDSU study did not address any of the following:

• Wiping a dropped binkie on your jeans will sanitize it.

• If you knock a piece of meat off the grill, and it lands on the patio - and no one sees it - it never happened.

• The more kids you have, the more resistant to bacteria they become. For example:
1st child drops spoon?  Get a new one out of the drawer.
2nd child drops spoon? Wash with antibacterial soap and give it back to kid.
3rd child drops spoon? Rinse under tap water for three seconds, and give it back.
4th child drops spoon?  Pick it up and give it back.
5th child drops spoon? Let the dog finish licking it, then give it back.

• Re-dipping a spoon (or finger) into the peanut butter jar will not contaminate the peanut butter if you focus really hard on not leaving any germs in the jar..

• Blowing on candy that has been dropped dislodges all germs.

• Germs are less likely to adhere to the last piece of chocolate than the first.

• People that are in love can share a straw, all other straw-sharing is life-threatening. And just plain gross.

• Ice cream does, in fact, fill up the cracks, and freezes bacteria at the same time.

• Double-dipping tortilla chips is safe, but only if the salsa is hot enough.

• Tofu is really, really bad for you, or they wouldn't call it tofu.

• Miracle Whip is an abomination. (Just trying to be consistent here, folks.)

• Dog kisses are fine, Especially if you don't mind ringworm and fecal matter kisses.


Well, I hope that helps you out as you start your day. I am happy to be of service, and inform you of important things that science just hasn't gotten around to researching.

Have a happy, healthy day!

mormon humor lds humorist MMM 

King of the Hill

When I was young, all we would need was a mound of snow, and more than one kid, and the battle was on.

Call it what you will, King of the Hill, King of the Mountain, KIng of the Castle. It is all the same thing - get on top of that hill, and stay there - using any tricks at our disposal: Pushing, pulling, dragging - eventually working up to clawing, pulling, gouging, etc. Until the moment comes where one of us could stand atop the mountain, with arms reaching for the sky and declare to all challengers, "I'm King of the Hill!"

It didn't have to be snow, dirt would suffice as well.

And for really aggressive games, you could do as my EC and her friends did, and use the playground equipment.

Eventually, playing King of the Hill on a mound of snow, or a hill of dirt faded away, and was replaced by other versions of the same game. We now refer to them as sports, competitions, contests, etc. As parents, we have successfully passed on the great King of the Hill tradition to our children, and poured kerosine on it.

Don't believe me?  Kids still play King of the Hill on a regular basis, only now it is forbidden during recess, and frowned upon by a more tolerant society.  We now gravitate towards more organized versions of the same game. Today the game now requires cleats, and shinguards, and referees, and coaches, etc.

King of the Hill is now a family event, where parents spend their days sitting in folding camp chairs watching to see if their little Kings and Queens will vanquish the foe. Sometimes 2, 3, 4, 5 nights a week, and Saturdays too. This hill conquering is serious business, costing $80, $100, $1000 a season. Why? Not only do we want our kids to be able to get really good at climbing the hill, we want them to climb really good hills - not just little fun, neighborly hills.

In fact, some parents are so invested in the game that they become different people -they "check their religion at the door," when they arrive to yell at the referees, criticize the coaches, and shout and berate their little kings.  Thankfull{, other parents are much more passive, but deep down inside, every parent, every coach, every kid wants to emerge victorious. To be King of the Hill.

How do I know? Been there, done that, still there, still doing that.

I played as a kid, I have coached 12 seasons of soccer and basketball, and I have spent enough time on bleachers that even hard church pews feel like heaven. At all levels - player, coach, and parent, - I wanted to win. That was the goal.  Sure, we would say ridiculous things like "We are here to have fun," but it was with a wink, because we all know that it is much more fun to stand victorious, than to be lying in a heap at the base of the mountain.

Being King of the Hill can be time consuming. Especially if you want to play on the really big hills - or hope that one day your little one will eventually get paid for playing - because we know that happens to most of our kids. Sometimes you might have to sacrifice to play at that level. Every so often, you might need to forgo Mutual, scout camp, girls camp, service projects, and for some, Sunday meetings, or even that full-time mission. But hey, it is tough out there - you have to be committed if you hope to win!

That is reality. Sorry if you were unaware.

Eventually the sports, music and forensic competitions, spelling bees, geography bees, academic decathlons all give way to more grown up versions of the game. SAT and ACT scores, college acceptance, GPA, grad school, law school, college rivalries (Go Cougars).

King of the Hill follows us through college and beyond by the things we choose: Career, spouse, neighborhood, house, car, vacations, clothes, toys, and of course, the chili cook-off.  Same game, same desire to win. And by win, I mean to be superior to those lower on the hill.

King of the Hill continues to be part of my life. Don't believe me? How many of you cheered for a college or pro football team, or a baseball team this weekend? By the way, that team that you are so invested in, that you cheer for, sweat for, stress for - that team that is completely unaware that you even exist.  Why do we embrace them?  Because if they win, we win by association, and stand victorious on our own little mound of snow - as they pop the champagne corks.

We like winners. We like to win. And for there to be winners, we just have to accept the fact that there are losers. Such is life.

Right?

I don't know if it is a matter of age, or a subtle change in my thinking, but I am not nearly as invested in sports as I used to be. I used to follow college football and the NBA faithfully. Now, I will watch an occasional game, but rarely more than one in a given week.

Why?  I'm not sure - I guess it is apathy.  I don't really care who is in the World Series anymore. I don't care who is in the running for the BCS this year.  It just doesn't matter to me - because it has absolutely no bearing on my life - unless I choose to let it - and I have enough reality to deal with. Fantasy football? You've gotta be kidding me.

I support my kids in their sports, but I'm much less invested than I used to be. And by invested I mean that I rarely yell at the ref's anymore. (Rarely - not never.) 

There is one thing that seems to pester my soul more and more about King of the Hill. The very concept of that game, and the versions we continue to play are antithetical to the Gospel of Jesus Christ. That game is in opposition to all that Christ stands for.

Does the spirit of competitiveness belong in the heart of a saint? (Sincere question.)

Where the goal of King of the Hill is to be the lone person standing atop the mountain, the goal of the Gospel is to pull as many people up to the top of the mountain as you possibly can while here on earth.

We already know who is standing atop the mountain: God our Father, and His Son Jesus Christ. And their goal? To lift us to join them, to stand atop the mountain with them.

"For behold, this is my work and my glory - to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man." Moses 1:39

God's work and glory is for us to stand atop the mountain with Him. Could anything seem more intuitive? Imagine looking at your children and saying to yourself "Kids, I hope you do well in life, but not quite as well as I've done."

God has charged us to help with his work - to lift and strengthen others - to help them up to the top of the hill. But to lift someone else to a higher place, we must first have firm footing at that higher level. You can't lift someone when you are below them.  Sure, you can push, and shove, and shout, but you cannot lift.

"The purpose of both spiritual and temporal self-reliance is to get ourselves on higher ground so that we can lift others in need."  Elder Robert D. Hales

"You must stand on higher ground so that you can lift others." President Gordon B. Hinckley

The goal is not to stand alone atop the mountain! It is not to defeat others! It is to stand with as many will come with us. Standing alone is not success - nor is it possible. Flaunting our superiority is anything but Christlike. When we tear others down, we do not stand any higher. (Which is one reason why I am so ready for this election to be over.)

And yet, we keep playing our own versions of King of the Hill, and and teach our children how to play it even better than we do.  Meanwhile, the adversary must be a very content fan.

Well Hello There, Cupcake

As Randy Jackson would say, I'm venturing a little out of my "Wheelhouse" today.  But when I see things evolving in society that disturb me, I feel it is my responsibility to speak out. This is one of those instances.

I love a good cupcake as much as the next guy. Three or four make a fabulous dessert, especially at social gatherings. They are handy, because you can eat them in one or two bites, and you don't need a plate or a fork. Thankfully, my EC has several recipes that knock the socks off any cupcake shop that sells them for $4.00 each, and so my issue with cupcakes is not a financial concern.

Yes, there is a television show actually called "Cupcake Wars" on the Food Network.

I watched Cupcake Wars once, so I know of what I speak. I don't see it as a great threat to society - just a very sad commentary.  First of all "War" is a bit of hyperbole.  It would be far more exciting if the ladies baking their cupcakes could walk over to their competitor's station and deliver a roundhouse kick to the sous-chef while she is whipping a meringue. That would be a "war."

The problem with Cupcake Wars is that they produce nonsense like this:

First of all look at it!  Second, it is a tomato, espresso and beer cupcake.  In other words, an abomination. I think that is all I need to say.  But even with this ghastly creation, Cupcake Wars are not my concern either.

My concern regarding cupcakes is this: The dog-poop icing technique.

Frosting should not look like it was left there by a dog...

or an elf...

or a Smurf...

I have no idea what inspired this, but at least it was aware of breast cancer.

Please help me stop this crime against dessert. Especially at wedding receptions. Now this cupcake looks amazing. See how the frosting looks like it was put there by a person, and not the neighbor's dog?

This cupcake has me distracted.

A few more thoughts about icing while I'm on the subject of icing:

• It should be called frosting.

• It should extend all the way to the edges of the cupcake.

• It should not be taller than the actual cupcake.

One last thought, and it should be completely obvious, but apparently there are some whose superficiality has overcome their common sense: TASTE > APPEARANCE. Nothing worse that a cupcake that looks delicious, but tastes awful.  We should refer to them as "Whited Sepulchre" cupcakes.

Thanks for indulging me.  I feel much better now.

One more thing:  If you are unfortunate enough to encounter a dog-poop cupcake, this technique could be of benefit to you.

Music to My Bleeding Ears

Mozart as a Kid.  (Show-off)

Somebody, please make it stop....

All of the FOMLs are musical. On purpose. My EC and I are in agreement that music is an important part of their development. It has been proven over and over again that music education makes kids smarter, raises their IQs, improves their grades, and makes their lives more satisfying. (There are more benefits - you can research if you want.)

From the beginning of our family, we wanted our kids to A) love music, and B) learn to play the piano.  By accomplishing "B," it would quickly launch them into the "more-skilled-than-Dad" category. I do have "A" nailed down. I love music. It has been a big part of my life - but I never really learned to play an instrument well. My voice? Yes. I still enjoy singing in choirs, but this post is about learning to play instruments. I've flirted with the idea of still learning the piano, but always chickened out - old dogs, etc.

When I was a wee lad, I did take a few piano lessons, but not many. Mostly, I remember stumbling through "Teaching Little Fingers How to Play" books repeatedly, and plunking it out the best I could. In my defense, I could play a mean "Song of the Volga Boatmen." As a teenager I fought my way through learning some of the hymns - as long as they were easy on the flats and sharps.

I taught myself how to play the guitar, thanks to James Taylor and Kenny Logins songbooks, and still can play a little bit. I would probably be better if it weren't for my encounter with the chainsaw, and my lack of practice.  My EC, however, plays the piano, and now and again she will sit down and refresh her skills.  But, her clarinet from High School sits alone in the garage, neglected for some 30 years. I don't understand why she didn't keep up her clarinet skills, I mean people play instruments in Church all the time. When was the last time you heard a rousing clarinet rendition of "Praise to the Man" in Sacrament meeting? I'll bet it's been a long time.

Back to my five kids.  They have amassed quite an arsenal of instruments. (And I chose the term "arsenal" intentionally.) We have an old piano, a fancy piano, a trumpet, an electric keyboard, a cello, a trombone, a flute, a harmonica, a guitar, several plastic recorders, a violin, and a lonely, neglected clarinet. Rock Band accessories?  I won't even dignify that with a comment. (Yes.)

My eldest, and only daughter. FOML1, got us off to a good start. Part prodigy, part sheer determination, she took to the piano with a vengeance.  Early on, I would try and find errands to run when practice time began. Eventually, I started hearing what sounded vaguely like music. Ultimately, I found myself waiting for her to practice, so I could grab a book and go lay on the couch and listen.  Now that she has left the nest, I miss her music.  (I don't miss paying for the University-level instructors, but it was worth every penny.) She played the flute as well and got to participate in some great band events in her High School days.

She was able to help pay her way through college with her accompanying skills, and I know her piano skills will bless the lives of many.  (Right now she is in love with the guitar, but no matter how good she gets, I will always see her as the little girl with stubby fingers pounding out Clair de Lune.)

The next two boys were, shall we say, more resistant.  While I don't think we ever asked my daughter to practice, the boys required more attention.  The best way I can describe the struggle was "musical waterboarding." Yes, waterboarding as in torture.  It was torture for us, as we argued and cajoled them into practicing.  It was torture for them to sit still for half-an-hour to practice.  We all were unhappy.

The goal was simply to have them have enough of a grasp on the piano to understand music theory, and play a few hymns, if need be, in seminary or on missions, etc. Is that asking too much? Yes, yes it was.

Eventually, we caved in and stopped with the lessons. They weren't progressing, it became a waste of money, and the contention wasn't worth it.  (You do have to pick your battles sometimes.)  The funny thing is that after the lessons stopped, you would often find the boys at the piano, learning to play popular songs, and hymns, on their own terms. Both boys who have served missions so far took with them a repertoire of a half-dozen well-worn hymns.  To their great credit, their appreciation for music was manifest in non-piano ways. Both sang in High School choirs, both played in band, and both fought the nearly-impossible fight of participating in both High School sports and music - a battle that is getting tougher all the time. Heaven forbid that we have well-rounded kids!

FOML4 took some piano, but we let him bail much sooner, because we are much smarter now. And more tired. He sings, and has shown an affinity for the guitar. (Learning the guitar is so much easier now - you can look up the tabs online, and even find YouTube videos, too.)  He plays the cello in High School, and is in the choir - continuing his elder brothers' legacy of playing team sports and participating in music. How dare he! Yes, we are gluttons for punishment.

Our youngest is taking piano lessons, and has just begun playing an instrument in 5th grade strings.  The violin. Our first violin. Thankfully, our last and only violin. Yikes!  I dreaded this moment even before I found my EC. I had heard kids playing the violin before. I have even heard kids play violin in church, and it never ends well.

During his piano practice, and his violin practice, I repeat the Serenity Prayer, and look for that future day when the noise will eventually resemble music. I wonder what percentage of my hearing has been lost in the past few weeks. But we will persist...

I imagine very few of you actually care about my family's music traditions, but there are some of you who will - now or later. Let me promise you that there is great worth in learning music. It is worth the money for instruments and lessons, it is worth the driving and the time. It is worth it in both the short-run, and in the long-run. It makes kids smarter, happier, and of greater use to the Lord.

Beyond the Crickets

"MMM note: This story will eventually tie-in to a broader discussion on Young Women and mission preparation, but right now, I just want to get the story written down.

A few years ago, I heard someone say something that stuck with me. Here it is years later, and I can't find where I heard it, who said it, or exactly what was said, or even if I just thought it - so I won't attribute it to anyone, or claim it to be doctrine or policy. But it stuck in my head.  (If any of you can source this, please let me know.)

The gist of the quote is this:

"I am concerned that we are raising a generation of youth who can only bear their testimony in the mountains, or around a campfire."

It probably stuck in my head because I agree with it.  Having had the privilege of serving a large chunk of my adult life with the youth of the Church, I know that testimony meetings around a campfire are often the only place a young man or woman will ever bear their testimony.  I get it. Testimony meetings are scary. Campfire's are safe, semi-occluded, and peer-pressure responsive. I have been witness to some wonderful testimony meetings around campfires - important, life-changing testimony meetings. I am not trying to denigrate this experience, rather I hope to add to it.

A few years back, when I was privileged to serve as bishop of a large and vibrant youth program (90+ kids), one of my favorite things was to go to Girl's Camp.  I don't know how other stakes do it, but it ours, the bishops were all invited to come up one day to participate in activities with the girls, and end the night with a bishop's fireside and testimony meeting. I loved this experience, and it is one of the things I miss most about being a bishop.

For many of the young women, and we adult leaders, this testimony meeting was often the high point of the week at Girl's Camp. It was as close to a guaranteed spiritual experience as you could find.

We cleared out an area in a grove of trees and hauled in enough stumps, logs and chairs for everyone to be seated. We decided against having a fire because it can be so distracting. Lanterns and flashlights were placed strategically. We had an opening prayer and sang a hymn, after which I had a few moments to talk to the girls and deliver my message to them. Such good girls. Strong, pure, and happy.

Before I opened the meeting to testimonies, I had a idea come to mind that made me instantly uncomfortable. I tried to dismiss it, but it persisted - so I went with it.  After I shared my thought and testimony, I closed with the following request -as best that I can remember:

"As you bear your testimonies, I would like you to do something a little different this year. Let's do away with some of our traditions and try something new.This year I would like to hear what you know. I would like to hear your testimonies about the Gospel and the Savior.

For example: We all know that you love coming to Girl's Camp. So, nobody needs to stand up and tell us that they love Girl's Camp. We also know that you love your friends, and your leaders. Your friends already know, and so do your leaders, so you don't need to share that with us either.

We also know that you are thankful for a lot of things - parents, brothers and sisters, friends, etc. We don't need to hear that, either.  What I am hoping, is that we can hear from each of you and understand what you believe, and what you know in your hearts to be true.  That is a testimony.  I know it's different, but I feel that it will be worth it.

Finally, I would also ask our wonderful Young Women leaders to abstain from bearing their testimonies tonight, and leave the time for our young women."

Then I sat down. Terrified.  I caught a few of glances from Young Women leaders. One of concern, one of confusion, and one of irritation. So I just looked at the ground in front of me and waited.

Crickets. That's all I heard. Literally, crickets.

Nobody stood up.

Crickets.

Five minutes passed.

Ten minutes.

Silence, except for the crickets.

I did it. I actually destroyed a testimony meeting. I ruined a grand tradition - the high point of Girl's Camp.

As I sat there in the dark, trying to figure out how to dig myself out of this disaster, I heard a sound. One of our sweet, shy young women stood up, and cleared her throat. She testified that she knew that Joseph Smith was a prophet of God, and that through him, Jesus restored the true Church to the earth. I don't remember what else she said, but I remember what I felt.  I felt the Holy Ghost surge into my heart and confirm what this courageous young lady had said.

The dam burst. One by one, every one of the young women stood and testified to the things they knew to be true. The prophet, the Book of Mormon, the Priesthood, the Plan of Salvation, the temple, and mostly, the Savior. It was powerful. No fluff, no filler.

These sweet, strong young women were rewarded for their courage with an outpouring of the Spirit that I had never felt around at a camp before. The girls had risen to a challenge from a priesthood leader, and all were blessed because of it.

Two stuck out in my mind: The first was a young woman who stood and explained how she was not to a point in her testimony where she could declare knowledge, but that she believed many things to be true. It was humble, and honest. The other, which happened to be the last girl, was not a member of the Church. But she stood and bore testimony that she knew the Church was true. (She was later baptized.)

As I sat and listened I prayed inwardly that the young women and their leaders would feel what I was feeling, and poured out my heart in gratitude for permitting me to witness this wonderful event.

We closed with a gentle hymn, had a prayer, and quietly made our way back to camp - to the sound of crickets.

(An amazing talk that has had great influence on my perception of testimonies is 'Pure Testimony," given by Elder Ballard in October of 2004.  I highly recommend it.

Elder Holland Doubles Down on Awesome

Most of us who watched General Conference were rocked by Elder Holland's wonderful talk "The First Great Commandment."  If you have not had a chance to read/watch it, please do. It was great. (Here is the link if you are playing catch-up: Holland talk.)

What a lot of my intelligent and highly attractive readers may not know, is that Elder Holland's Conference talk followed one month on the heels of another - even better - CES Devotional talk.  (Yes, it is better in my opinion, and in my opinion, that counts for something.)

Brief change of subject: When I was a kid, we used to be assigned "2 1/2 minute talks" to be delivered in Sacrament Meeting. Back then, 150 seconds seemed like a long time to speak, but with time and experience, hopefully we have more to say to fill 8, 10, or even 20 minute talks.  The First Presidency and members of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles are usually allotted 20 minutes to speak in General Conference. Twenty minutes is fine, but there are some topics that just can't be addressed in that small amount of time. Some subjects just need 40 minutes, or even an hour.

Why am I talking about the length of talks?  Because the Church leaders still do give talks that are beyond the 20 minute range - and some of them are earth-shaking. Usually they are CES YSA Firesides, or BYU Devotionals. Thankfully, the Church sees their importance and posts them online, in both written and video format.

The other night I spent 3 hours watching political debates and pundits on TV - and turned it off with nothing but frustration, and a feeling that I had wasted my time. In contrast, I can show you how to fill an hour with guaranteed good results.

If you have an hour, or are looking for something worthwhile to fill your Sabbath, I would encourage you to check out the CES Firesides and BYU Devotionals.  There are loads of them.  Links:  CES, BYU.

Back to Elder Holland.

All we get is a whole bunch of idiots acting like moral pygmies.  Yes, Elder Holland actually used the term "moral pygmies" in this talk.  That alone should be enough to make you want to watch it.  Need more convincing? Here are two more quotes:

"There is a wide variety of beliefs in this world, and there is moral agency for all, but no one is entitled to act as if God is mute on these subjects..."

"This Church can never 'dumb down' its doctrine in response to social goodwill or political expediency or any other reason."

There is also a segment on the concept of passing judgement that everyone needs to hear - because it agrees with what I was trying to communicate in my post "Uchtdorf's Hammer," last Conference.  I love it when I get it right.

Ooooh,  This is rub-my-hands-together-with-glee kind of stuff. To make it easier for you, I have included the entire devotional right here on my little blog. THis would be a good thing for your kids (12+ to hear as well.)

If you don't have a lot of time, and want to skip all the opening stuff, skip ahead to 13:05 to get to the talk. Yes, he talks for a full 45 minutes. Get to it!




Here is the link to the written talk, but I suggest you watch, because he get really worked up and one point, and you lose the emphasis without the visual. Israel, Israel God is Calling (text).

I hope you enjoyed it. You can thank me later, but first, thank God for men like Jeffrey R. Holland.

MMM mormon humorist lds humor

Choose the Right Words: An Anecdote

I was told this is a true story. I so hope it is.

A young boy walked up the aisle to the pulpit as his father, the Bishop, beamed proudly.  The counselor pulled the stool out for the child to be visible to the congregation as he bore his testimony.

The boy shared a sweet testimony, and expressed his gratitude for his family and then said,

"Our family is a lot happier now that we have stopped using the "F" word and the "S" word."

He closed his testimony and returned to his seat. The aghast congregation watched as the red-faced bishop stepped up to the pulpit, raised the microphone and explained,

"Just to be clear, in our home, the "S" word is "Stupid" and the "F" word is "Fart."

The Bishop returned to his seat, and the testimony meeting continued.

MMM mormon humorist lds humor

Dad's Flash of Cool

Yesterday on Facebook, I made the following crack:

Driving with my kids, listening to talk radio as they complain. I have officially become my father. :)

Apparently I'm not the only one who sees that happening to themselves. It is often thought of as a bad thing, but, in a lot of ways, I am very content with it.

Since yesterday, I have been thinking a lot about my dad. He had been gone for 9 years now, and I miss him.

When I was a young lad, back in the early Seventies, I thought my dad was great. He was quiet, solid as a rock, and had huge calf muscles from working on a ranch most of his life. He had served in the Navy in WWII, served a mission, graduated from Utah and got his Masters from BYU. He was kind, a good provider, a Church leader, and very, very good to my mother. He rarely lost his temper, but when he did...

But Dad wasn't very cool. (At least to a kid my age.) Evidence?  He shot free-throws underhand. Need I say more? But, for one brief period of time, he changed that. He had a flash of cool that I felt was the stuff on legend.

One afternoon, my friends and I were out riding our bikes - because that's all we ever seemed to do - when a car pulled up into our driveway. I didn't recognize the car. It was a kind of a beige-yellow color, but I was pretty sure I recognized the model.

The door opened, and my dad got out.  What?  I dropped my bike on the ground and walked over to him.  He waited until the rest of the family was outside, and then announced that it was his new car. I don't know if it was a surprise to Mom or not, but I don't recall her being overjoyed.  I was.

It was a Ford Gran Torino.

Awesome!  Sure, it was beige-ish yellow, but it was actually a Gran Torino. And that was cool.  Why? Because even I knew, at my young age, I knew who else drove a Ford Gran Torino.

Yes, it was true. Our family would now be driving along the Wasatch Front in the same vehicle that starred alongside Paul-Michael Glaser and David Soul. OK, it wasn't exactly the same. It wasn't red with a cool white stripe on it, and it didn't have cool tires. And yes, it did look more like a family sedan that the one on TV.  And nobody would ever drive it faster than the speed limit.  And no, we never drove any one as cool as Huggy Bear around.

But it was a Gran Torino, and that surely counts for something.

There IS a Word for That

It is late at night. You are lying in bed, revisiting the events of your day. Overall, it was a pretty good day - with one small exception: That one guy/girl made that comment to you that was so wrong, so inappropriate, so insulting, that you stood there - frozen - speechless. Your mind went absolutely blank, and you offered no reply at all. You had nothing.

The next morning you wake up, and the first thing that pops into your brain is the perfect comeback. A riposte so brilliant, so witty, so devastating that you adversary would have been deservedly reduced to a puddle of tears. The response that you had desperately searched for the day before now decides to make an appearance.

Alas! It is too late. Grrrr!

Turns out there is an expression for that situation.  It is French, from the nation that excels at snark. The phrase is "L'espirit de l'escalier."  Translated, it means "Staircase Wit."

It is derived from the idea that you will come up with the perfect response as you are walking down the stairs, as you are leaving a party. Unfortunately, the perfect comeback rarely comes out at the perfect moment, and we get stuck saying something like this:


Yeah, not such a great comeback. (It was either Pee Wee or Joe Biden. I like Pee Wee, I like him.)

We enjoy being clever, and with social media, we can share our cleverness with the world. But with that comes the ability to share our lack of cleverness with the world. And many, many, or us can't tell the difference.

I am guilty of trying to be too clever and snarky at times. Once in a while I will hit a solid double, and occasionally knock one out of the park, but mostly there are a lot of strikes and some really weak singles.

And then there are the comments from others that are an attempt at wit, that I just don't understand. I'll sit there and read it again, and try and figure out if I just don't get the joke, or is it really just a bad joke.

Sadly, I am afraid that insult, snark and sarcasm are too highly overrated. I know they are to me. You could accurately say that for me, sarcasm is a weapon of choice.

Check out this quote from President Hinckley from 2001:

"I am asking that we stop seeking out the storms and enjoy more fully the sunlight. I am suggesting that as we go through life we “accentuate the positive.” I am asking that we look a little deeper for the good, that we still voices of insult and sarcasm, that we more generously compliment virtue and effort."

Rats. He specifically called for us to be less sarcastic.  I hate it when someone calls me out on one of my defining features.

Maybe one of the reasons we have that immediate stupor that results in "Staircase Wit" is for self-preservation. I am convinced that if I were just a little bit quicker, I would get punched now and again. (Hmmm. Maybe we should request a "punch" button on Facebook.)

I will admit that the inability to always fire back is a good thing that allows us a moment to either turn the other cheek, or check our feelings, and filter our words. There is not always a delete button.

The worst combination is a quick, sharp tongue, coupled with an inadequate filter. We all know some of those. And if my EC tries to argue that I am talking about myself, I will think of some witty retort.  Tomorrow.

mormon humorist lds satire humor

Early Elders: Oh, let me have just a little bit of peril...

I was an 18 year-old missionary. For three weeks. Due to the scheduling of my call, I had my 19th birthday in the MTC. No big deal. I was also aware of some young men and women who were able to serve well before the age deadlines because of situations regarding their parents' Church service.

In the press conference that followed the age change announcement, it was mentioned that 48 countries already allow missionary service for young men at the age of 18. FOML2 served with many 18 year-old Elders in his mission.

So, it isn't really new. What is new is that many, many, US missionaries now have this option available to them, and it will impact the work. The flood of sister missionaries will impact the work even greater.  Last week I wrote a little about my views regarding the change. (here.)  In a nutshell, I think it is great, and I am always happy to support the prophets.

I did mention that I felt there was a bit of "peril" in the change. This was not meant to be critical, nor intended to imply a lack of faith in the new standards.  I am fully supportive, and have tremendous faith that the entire world will be blessed because of the flood of missionaries.

What do I mean by "Peril?" I mean there are some things that we need to worry about, as prospective missionaries, leaders and parents. Some of these will seem pretty obvious, some might have absolutely no application to you. Some will cause you to slap your forehead, and others will cause some introspection - I can say this because that has been my reaction as I have thought about this whole this. If there is interest, I will follow up the "perils" with some thoughts on how to minimize them from my point of view.

(If I seem to be referring mostly to the young men, it is because I feel that these things apply mostly to the young men. I just have a little more faith in the young women...  Sorry guys!)

Peril: Immaturity
I was 18 once.  I remember it well. I was a doofus. I spent most of my 18th year at BYU. I will neither confirm nor deny that I spent part of that time running around at 3:00am, climbing in the elevator shafts at DT, and running around in the tunnels beneath campus, and doing a host of other really immature, stupid and downright dangerous things. In making this confession, no one need suppose me of any great or malignant sins. A disposition to do such was never in my nature. (JSH v.28)

Simply put: There are a lot of really immature 18 year olds out there. I was one of them. There are also a lot of immature 19 and 20 year olds as well, but it decreases with life experience.  I'll bet the Mission Presidents are thrilled about the change, and terrified at the same time. The last thing they have time for is to babysit immature and risky missionaries. Our young men will need to grow up: Faster.

Think about how difficult it would be for a bishop to tell a young man/woman and his parent's that the missionary is not quite ready yet.  I guarantee there will be some angry, insulted parents.  We need to be careful to not let our pride get in the way of what's best for our missionary, and in sustaining our leaders.

Some young men are just not emotionally mature enough to handle the tremendous stress and work of a full-time mission. Many get into the field and find that it is too much, and come home. It can result in a long-term negative impact. To  help minimize this sad outcome, the young men/women need to work with their parents and their bishop to make sure they are up to the task. If they aren't ready when the gate opens, be wise enough to delay. Set goals and work towards getting more prepared. It will be much better in the long run.

- Patience and preparation -

Peril: Age Pressure
 If 18 is the new 19, will we push boys to leave at 18 that aren't ready? Will we just move the unfortunate slacker stigma down a year? Or will we be wise and wait until our children/charges are READY, rather than of age.  In the same press conference, Elder Nelson said, "Young men and women should not begin their service before they are ready spiritually and temporally."

As a bishop, I was pretty adamant that the young men should always have their 19th birthday as their target for service, with the possibility to move the date back if needed - due to emotional, physical, spiritual, or financial issues, or lack of preparation. But 19 was the target.  I don't feel as strongly that 18 should be that same type of target - there is much more in play, and I hope that we all are very careful not to send out unprepared missionaries because a number is circled on the calendar.

That said, I still feel the need to encourage my sons to use 18 as a realistic goal for preparation. What happens if God wants a young man to serve at 18, but the prospective missionary had divined his own target date of 20? Also, a nebulous target of 18-24 would be just vague enough to be risky.  So, in my home, we are aiming for 18, but we will try and be wise.
- Patience and preparation -

Peril: Finances.
It was only 5 years ago that both Elder Ballard and Elder Perry stood up in General Conference and mentioned the importance of having a job and earning money for a mission. (Links to the talks below) With a young man eligible to serve a mission at 18, he theoretically can finish High School and enter the MTC without ever having a real job, or providing any of his own financial support for his mission.  Yikes!  The FOML2 worked part-time during part of High School, and FOML3 worked the year post-High School. I knew that both of them could get up, get out the door, spend a day at work and earn some money. And even better, they both knew it. (Note:  If you are still waking your seventeen year old up for church, school, or work - you have a problem!)

Self-funding a mission just got that much harder, and it is sad because contributing to your own mission cost has a great ROI. (return-on-investment)  Elder Perry: "If promise great blessings - social, physical, mental, emotional and spiritual blessings - to every young man who pays for a significant part of his mission."  Do we want to cheat our sons out of these blessings to meet a non-existent deadline?

Extended families, friends, and ward families will need to chip in more often to pick up the slack. But that's OK, because there are lots of blessings for that, too.

Peril: Ignorance.
When I say "Ignorance," I mean the "lack of understanding of key gospel principles."  I also mean ignorance as in "he is such an ignoramus." Yes, you know exactly who I'm talking about. Him.

Seminary, Priesthood quorums, FHE, family scriptures study and Sunday School just got even more important. Beyond that, the future missionary's personal scripture study, prayer, service and devouring Preach My Gospel got even more important.

What got less important?  Skateboarding, video games, sports, girls, TV, hobbies, and time-wasting.  There just isn't time anymore.

Warning! This could melt your brain:

Theoretically, a young man could...
a) Submit his mission papers
b) Receive the Melchizedek Priesthood
c) Receive his mission call
d) Receive his temple endowment

ALL BEFORE HE GRADUATES FROM HIGH SCHOOL!

That is an incredible amount of doctrine, experience and understanding of covenants to absorb in a very short amount of time. I know, or have known, precious few young men who could take this on, and be ready to go on their 18th birthday.  It would need to be his primary focus of his life - at a time where many other things are vying for attention.
- Patience and preparation -

Peril: We Adults Don't Get It.
Want to know a great way to sabotage a young man preparing for a mission? Surround him with adults who don't get it.  Who are these adults?
• Parents who don't hold FHE, or daily family scripture study and prayer.
• Young Men leaders who play basketball or frisbee on a Mutual night. (Or other such time-wasters)
• Young Women leaders who have "make-over nights" or other vanity-related activities. (Or other such time-wasters)
• Bishops who are sloppy with annual interviews, or don't dig deeply when they have the opportunity.
• Mothers who run around the day before the 18th birthday getting signatures for her son's Eagle papers.
• Parents who rationalize that sports are important, to the exclusion of church functions.
• Teachers who do not take lesson prep seriously. (Seminary, quorum, class and sunday school)
• Parents who fight all their kid's battles.
• Parents and leaders who turn a blind eye to the standards as set forth in "For the Strength of Youth."
...there's more, but you get the point.

Peril: A Shaky Testimony
This one deserves its very own post.

There are more perils, but this will do for now. What exciting times we live in! But I hope out enthusiastic embrace of the new age requirements don't reap unintended consequences that can make missionary service more difficult, and less productive.

It was ten years ago this month that Elder Ballard spoke in General Conference and the concept of 'Raising the Bar" for missionary service was introduced. "The Greatest Generation of Missionaries," changed everything. Five years ago, Elder Perry gave a fabulous talk on missionary preparation called "Raising the Bar." I highly recommend reading both of them.

May God be with you as you and your youth prepare!  I still have two young men in the pipeline - and the pipeline just got shorter.

Cleansing the Temple - Revisited

Back in June I wrote a post about Christ Cleansing the Temple.  My point was that we have no biblical evidence that he did it in a spirit of anger.  I challenged:

"So, here is my request:  Please show me in the scriptures where it said Christ was angry when He cleared the temple - either time? (It was twice, you know.) In fact, please show me in the New Testament ANY reference as to the Savior's emotional state when He cleared the temple.  I challenge you. Better yet - I dare you!"

Then I said a bunch of profound stuff.

Today, Vatermann the Wise clued me into a new Church video that was just released that deals with the subject. Take a look. (It is really short.)

What do you think? How would you describe his demeanor?

The Flapper

Note to my ever so loyal and attractive readers:  Um...well...I know I've been missing-in-action for most of the week. Sorry 'bout that. I haven't gone anywhere or changed my grand designs, but somehow the week slipped by without a slew of new posts. I will try and do better. Please don't fire me. (But I would understand if you wanted me to take some time off - without pay, of course.)

We had two leaky toilets. One was the guest bathroom. You could walk down the hall and hear the slow trickle of water escaping the tank. The other was our master bathroom - same incessant drizzle.

I am humbly proud to tell you that I fixed hem both yesterday. And it had only taken me a few days weeks months to do the job. Seriously, I don't know how long I let this go before I finally relented and took care of the problem.

It isn't that it is complicated. All you do is pull out the old flapper, and put a new one in. If any part of the process could be remotely described as difficult, it would be getting the length of the chain right. All in all, the entire process took maybe 3 minutes per toilet. Yes, I invested 6 minutes stopping two leaks to help save the planet. I should get a medal. You can get one of them Nobel Peace Prizes for doing much less.

What took me so long?
Maybe it was the cost. Those flappers are more expensive than they used to be. I spent almost $12 on a three-pack. That works out to $4 each. Factor in the gas to et to the store, and we are talking a $15 project. Except I was already at the store, so this excuse doesn't work either. It was an $8 project.

Maybe I didn't have time.  Nah, that's nonsense. I had time to watch Survivor. (Jeff Kent is LDS by the way.)

In my defense, I must point out that I had purchased one flapper from the grocery store, on a whim. It was cheap, and made cheaply. I installed it, and for some reason, the flapper wouldn't flap. Once the chain pulled it up, it stayed up. Sometimes we could wiggle the handle to make it drop, but usually there was just a constant rush of water until we took the lid off the tank and pushed the flapper down. This was much worse than the leak I was trying to fix.

My cowardly solution? Remove all the stuff perched on top of the tank lid, and put the lid on the floor. Open tank=Easy access. For three days we used out master bathroom with a lidless tank. I knew I needed to do something, or the next step would be subscribing to National Geographic and stacking the back issues in the hallway. It pains me to share this with you.

Yesterday, I came home. went right to work installing the new flappers, and returning the lid to its rightful place on top of the tank, rather than leaning against the wall. Both flappers worked flawlessly. Now we have no leaks. I told my wife, she said "Good."  It was horribly anti-climactic.

What did it take to fix my problem: $8 and 6 minutes. And the right part.

Why did it take me months to solve the problem when the solution was so easy?

The problem was irritating.
I knew what to do.
I had access to the solution.
The solution was neither difficult or expensive.

Yet still I waited - and I'm not sure why.

Please discuss the psychological ramifications of my inattentiveness...

Ahhh...They Grow Up So Fast

Saturday's big announcement regarding the change is missionary service age is definitely making the rounds. For those who are living in a deep, dark cave, the Church is now allowing young men to serve at 18, instead of 19, and young women to serve at 19, instead of 21. (If you didn't know, that would also mean you missed Conference. Sheesh!)

Lot's of media attention to the change - TV reports, news articles, blog posts, and Social Media chatter. Most that I have seen has been positive. The world has taken notice, and now would be a good time to invest in companies selling "No Soliciting" signs.

And, like clockwork, outspoken church critics (from within the very Church itself) are already hijacking this wonderful, prophetic change to bolster their own apostate agendas. (Did that sound harsh?  Good.)

There has been much written and discussed, so I probably don't need to add more to the conversation. Besides, I don't have anything particularly important to say - but that has never stopped me before...

My thoughts on this topic are mine, and mine alone. They are not official, or even that interesting. They are based on my experience as a father to one daughter, who did not serve a mission, 4 sons, one who did, one who is, and two who should. My only sister served a mission, I also served a mission, but my EC did not. I also had the great pleasure of sending oodles of young men into the mission field as a bishop, and the sadness of watching some evade service.

In no particular order:

I think the age changes are great, wonderful, inspired. and...fraught with peril, and great changes that will impact all of us.

For the Church, and Society: The more missionaries the better. This change is not really about the missionaries - it is about hastening the work.. To fixate solely on how it impacts "girls" or "boys" is a self-absorbed view of what should be a much bigger picture: Establishing Zion to prepare for the Second Coming of the Savior.

The missionary ranks will be increased by more Sisters serving than ever before - and that surge should maintain indefinitely. There will also be a temporary bubble of Elders as the 18 year-old move into the system. This bubble will flatten back out in  a couple of years, but, hopefully, a higher percentage of Elders will be able to serve even beyond the bubble.

More missionaries will yield more baptisms.  From my experience, they are like the Elders in that a minority of the missionaries find the majority of success. I have seen some stellar sister missionaries. And some not-so-stellar, just like the Elders.

The Church wil also see long-term benefits as more sisters serve missions. So many of the women I know in the ward that served missions are really, really solid. I think serving gives the an increase in confidence is teaching and testifying that benefits them their entire lives. Stronger teachers, advisors, mothers, etc.

For the Sisters:  The world will be a better place with more sister missionaries in it. So will the Church, so will wards, and finally so will families. An opportunity to serve at an earlier age makes it much easier for a young woman to add "mission" into her life than at 21. By the time 21 rolls around, sometimes life will have already moved beyond missionary service: School, career, marriage, kids, etc.  At 19, many, many more will serve. Coincidentally, if they leave at 19, they'll get back around the same time that the Elder's their age will. (I hear lots of wedding bells for 21 year-olds.)

There are tons of articles out there right now with much better insight about how the sisters will benefit, so I'll move on.

For the Elders:  I had 20 months between my high-school graduation and my 19th birthday. A lot can happen in 20 months. Luckily, I was either working or attending BYU at that time, so I never did anything worse than act like an idiot freshmen. (You guys know what I'm talking about.)

But, I know far too many young men who let that time between school and mission get the best of them. Some went away to college and left their brains and spirits at home. Others got caught up in various forms of immorality. Some developed addictions that damaged their spirituality to the point that they could no longer serve at 19. Some pulled out of the Whirlpool of Spiritual Stupidity, some got pulled under - and have yet to recover. It is heartbreaking.

19 has been a pretty hard line drawn in the social sand of the Church. When a young man hits 19 and is not on a mission, he becomes a sort of "problem" in the eyes of many - including himself. While this is not right, it is real.  The 18+++ age blurs that hard line and makes it more about if the young man is ready or not.

For Both Elders and Sisters: There are so many considerations for both young men and women - emotional preparedness, spiritual preparedness, financial preparedness, health, etc. in determining if a missionary is good to go. The prospective missionary, parents, bishops and stake presidents all have to be very involved in this determination. The calendar should not dictate.

Anything that blurs that hard age line and helps the young man leave when he is READY to leave, is a good thing. For the sisters too. Remember 18 is not the age a young man is commanded to serve.  It is the age he can serve. Remember too, 19 is not the age a Sister is commanded to serve, because she is not commanded to serve. At all. Should she choose to serve, 19 represents the age that she can serve. Don't believe anybody that tells you that 18/19 are the ages a missionary is supposed to serve. They are wrong. And dumb.

Serving a mission establishes spiritual habits and comprehension that can set a great pattern for your entire life.  (No, my EC did not serve a mission, neither did FOML1, and they are both ROCK solid, so don't get defensive.) It would seem to me that shared mission experience could lend great foundational stability to a marriage.

I just looked and realized how long this is getting - sorry about that. I'm just a little excited about al the changes.  (I think I'll break it up and talk about the "Peril" and "Changes" in my next post.)

Hope the "Post-Conference High" is still warming your hearts...

Sunday PM Comments

Sorry I am slow to post these comments from the final session of Conference today.

I was unable to type because the magenta dresses that the MoTab sisters wore burned my retinas.
Not really. EC and I went to visit the sick and afflicted, and returned home with even more gratitude in our hearts.

• Peter is definitely the Man of the Hour.  Three Apostles talked about his interactions with the Savior. All fabulous talks. I went in search of a painting of the story that Elders Holland and Hales talked about and found this:

I have no idea who painted it, but I'm glad someone did.  Do any of you know of a painting that represents this second occasion where Christ summoned His Apostles? There are several of the first occurrence.

• In order to become more like Jesus, I am grilling fish for dinner tonight.  Salmon to be precise.

• Elder Clarke gave one of the best, most understandably concise explanations of the sacrament that I have ever heard. He totally nailed it.  But... I'll bet hardly anybody noticed that it can be a life-changer, if we let it.

• Did I mention the magenta dresses? There were much better than the Pepto-Bismol dresses from before.

• As Elder Bednar talked about the necessity of conversion beyond testimony, I kept thinking of the scripture in James 2:19. Testimony isn't enough.

"Thou believest there is one God; Thou doest well: The devils also believe, and tremble."

• FamilySearch should figure out a way to add a social media element to indexing, so teenagers would be more likely to do it. They could race each other, compare notes, meet other LDS kids from around the world, etc.

• True Story:  Richard G. Scott was my dad's mission companion.  I have a story that goes along with that - maybe one day I'll share it.

• Our broadcast went out right as President Monson was wrapping up.  Please let me know if he quoted me during that time. Other than that, it looks like I went 0 for 5 again this year.

• As I get older, the two-hour session seems shorter than it used to.

• Speaking of getting older...it seems that a lot of these newer Seventies are awfully young.

Enjoy the rest of your Sabbath.  I look forward to digging in and learning more from these talks in the near future.

Sunday AM Comments. Kinda.

Who's ready for another batch of snarky, silly comments about General Conference?  Here we go...

•

•

•

•

•


I got nothin'. Absolutely nothing.

I am still so awash from the emotion of Elder Holland's talk that I can hardly type - let alone be funny. What a masterful discourse.

I love him.
I love Peter.
And Yes, I love the Savior.

Good Sabbath!

Saturday PM Non-Spiritual Observations

• Elder Perry is remarkable for a 90 year-old man. Not only is he current in his understanding, he wore a sweet lavender tie.

• Elder Perry's lavender tie > Elder Ballard's periwinkle tie.

• Glad I'm not a honeybee. Just sayin'.

• Still not quoted. Three more sessions to go.

• As I expected, so far there have been no "shout-outs" to BYU's offense.

• Elder Gay asked an intriguing rhetorical question: "Would you sell your soul for a nickel?"  The answer, of course, is "No, but keep going..."

• Note to self:  Scrap plans to quit my job and become a plate-glass temple window designer.

• Elder Whiting quoted Paul in saying that our bodies are earthly "temples."  MIne could sure use some remodeling.

• A bonus for LDS Democrats: With Elder Echo Hawk serving as a General Authority, you don't have to keep referring back to President Faust.

• Gotta admit, I kinda fell asleep during Elder Anderson's talk.

• Liz Owens is older than me. She turned 52 today.

• I woke up for Elder Oaks. Way up.  Hopefully the world will too.

• Remember when Captain Moroni rent his cloak and wrote the Standard of Liberty, and held it up as a standard for everyone to see?  He's got nothin' on Elder Dallin Oaks. Goodness - that was one of the most important/courageous talks I have ever heard.

• Can't wait for Priesthood Session tonight, but there will be no blog post, for fear that some of you sisters would sneak a peek.