Day 3

I'm actually starting to get stir crazy. No work again today (and no work tomorrow either.)The air this morning was visibly caked with smoke. I could hardly spend a few moments outside without my eyes, nose and throat starting to burn. Maybe this is why they want everyone inside and limiting their physical exertion.

The major networks spent the day covering the fires again, though several starting inserting commercials. Tonight, they were just about all back on their regularly scheduled programming, though they're all still running a ticker on the bottom of the screen updating evacuation notices. Our car is still packed and ready to go at a moments notice, but it's looking less and less likely that will be necessary.

This afternoon we readied for the ward Halloween carnival, which went on despite the air warnings (The air out here was actually much improved this evening -- though reports are that it's still terrible downtown.) As part of the festivities, Michelle entered some of her chili in a ward chili cooking contest. She didn't ended up taking home any prizes for the chili -- though apparently her chili was the first (and one of the few) to be eaten completely. All the way home she openly mused on how the telling sign of an award winning chili wasn't a ribbon, but to be the first eaten. Of course, it would've been nice if she'd won a ribbon too.

Other highlights included the cake walk. Between my and my brother's family we took home about 12 cupcakes. Since I finished off the Costco chocolate cake this morning, the timing was perfect.

Day Two

No work today. Lots of TV, switching channels frequently to find any station showing live footage of the fires. Michelle spent the day readying our car and our things in the event of another evacuation. We've been advised to stay indoors (the smoke tinged air outside tends to give one a headache), and to stay off the freeways.

That didn't stope me from heading to Costco (not to worry, I took all local roads). I convinced Michelle I had legitimate business to transact there, but I really only had one thing in mind: The family needed a morale boost and I needed chocolate cake.

The Costco chocolate cake. Not the 8 lb. All-American Chocolate cake that's mostly frosting (and hence, not terribly appealing.) No, the smaller 4 lb. bundt cake with a chocolate ganash type frosting and a drizzled white line of frosting on top of that. I brought Jared along with me for moral support, and to help figure out our best defenses when Michelle found out we'd bought it.*

As it happened, there were cheers when I brought the cake home. Michelle only mildly protested (which in this case actually represented a hearty consent). I did my parental duty by waiting until at least after noon to break into it.

* Jared's best idea was this: "I'll just tell her, Dad: 'Mom, we're keeping the chocolate cake.'"

Update as the Fires Rage

Only in hindsight is my foolishness so apparent.

I began the morning later than usual and caught only enough of the Internet to read on CNN's website that there were a few "small fires" in remote parts of Northern San Diego County. I ate a heaping bowl of cereal, held late morning prayers with my family, before literally running to catch the trolley. I read 1 Nephi 17 and then slept for the remainder of the ride, gearing up for the work day ahead.

I got off the trolley and immediately noticed the smell of smoke and burnt wood. I mused on that as I walked, and then passed a coffee shop where two paralegals informed me the office was closed. I rejoiced and took the next trolley home.

Once home, I turned on the television and stayed glued to the news. With morbid fascination I looked at the map delineating the locations of 7 different fires burning in varying parts of San Diego County. None were near La Mesa. We stayed fascinated with the fire, and I openly wondered/hoped the fires might keep me home from work tomorrow too.

I went ahead with the rest of the day, feeling insulated enough that we only reluctantly decided not to head down to the beach today. I also tried to switch internet service plans, rejoiced when a customer service rep from Men's Wearhouse called to let me know they'd be replacing two of my shirts, and went to Carl's Jr. to test out a Super Star burger (w/cheese) before formulating a reply for a recent blog.

About an hour ago we continued in the state (readying ourselves to head to the pool) when we heard sirens and a loud speaker shouting something. Given our proximity to Fletcher it had to be directed elsewhere.

Still, Nichole can running into the apartment frantic. Police cars had driven up forcing evacuation of our apartment complex. As soon as Michelle heard, her voice turned frantic and in a seeming panic she started screaming for us to get things, find things, put things together, and get out of the house.

I still felt calm. Even amid an apparent evacuation, it couldn't have had anything to do with us. I put together my laptop bag, found my backpack (which has Ipod) and meandered out to our car. It was during that walk that the seriousness of the situation. Police cars were racing up to our building on the other side. I walked down a little farther and saw a billow of smoke. Then, in that instant I saw a tree on our side of the street, but on the other side of the wall catch on fire.

I ran back to the house, and with a heightened sense of urgency started getting things ready. I unhooked our main computer, and got our children. People were running around our building now. Neighbors who had raced home wanted to know when this had happened. Police were shouting as us to leave, pounding on our neighbors doors. I realized for the first time that I could lose just about everything I owned. We filled our trunk. I noticed Michelle had loaded a bunch of pictures and a few journals. I'd taken care of the computers. We loaded into the car when Michelle, still talking frantically, told me she'd forgotten her wallet. She told me to run in and get it, and I reluctantly complied. As soon as I got out of the car a policeman was shouting at me "You're going the wrong way sir! Get out of here!" I still ran back to our apartment, hoping to find that wallet. The policeman followed me though, shouting at me all the time "Get out of here! Get out of here now!" He only gave me a few moments to look for the wallet, standing in the doorway shouting at me the whole time. I ended up leaving without it, and the caravan of my family and my brother's family left the apartment complex.

There was an empty feeling, leaving the apartment and seeing the fire, not knowing when we'd be able to return and what we'd be returning to. Michelle shouted thanks a policeman as we drove off. We were headed to a church evacuation center, and Michelle was lamenting she'd been so concerned about preparing for Christmas and we didn't even have a 72 hour kit. For most of the drive we alternated between feelings of gratitude that we were all together safe and feeling foolish that we weren't better prepared. Jared displayed a little nervousness by asking lots of questions about the fires and the fire getting our apartment.

We got to the stake center and saw familiar faces. Each of those faces was there to help -- not there as evacuees. We checked in, were given a room and offered cookies. Most importantly, there was a room with a TV showing the local news. We met people from Poway, and I shared a few nervous moments with a man who wondered what area we'd come from. When I told him "La Mesa" he expressed surprise the fire had gotten that far South, and then said "It's a strange sensation not knowing what you're going to be coming back to." I saw Jared & Emily a few moments afterward -- Jared was telling me about toys -- and felt profound gratitude that my little family was unscatched. For a few moments, I felt like that was all that mattered.

The fire affecting our area was apparently under control and put out almost as quickly as it started (no details yet on what started it). I'm not sure if we were even at the stake center an hour when a friend offered to let us stay with them. [Not before this same friend joked with me that there were reports my home had been looted -- the only thing they'd taken was the Wii.]

On our way to their house, we checked on our own and saw only charred hillside and a few burned pine trees. We were able to return home and offer thanks, and essentially continue a normal evening. [though Michelle has filled the car with those things we just couldn't bear to lose -- should we be evacuated again.]

At last report, the 8 fires in San Diego county are 0% contained. Tonight there are thousands [250,000 in an early count this afternoon] who have been evacuated from their homes. We were one of them only for an hour or so. My office is closed tomorrow. I won't be sleeping in Qualcomm stadium, a high school, or a church tonight. I feel guilty about that, especially as I watch others' homes burn on the news. At least tonight I'm a little less inclined to take my creature comforts for granted, and a little more prepared if something threatens to take those same comforts away again.

Stick With The Double Double

Most already know of my regard for In-N-Out burgers. In fact, I'm surprised other hamburger joints are able to survive in Southern California, since their burgers are either markedly inferior or double or triple the price (and that's just to offer something comparable.)

This weekend we play host to my brother's family and my mother. They're visiting from Utah. Any time we have company from out of town we usually make sure they have opportunity to make the obliged pilgrimage to In-N-Out. Today was no different: After a few hours poking around the San Diego Zoo, we made our way to the In-N-Out closest to our home.

I felt especially hungry tonight, and so decided to try a 3 x 3 (3 hamburger patties and 3 slices of cheese), instead of the normal Double Double.

What a mistake! Perhaps I couldn't have known before hand, but the entire balance of the burger changes when an additional patty and cheese slice are added to the same single slice of tomato and lettuce, the same amount of sauce, and the same toasted bun. While the tomato, lettuce, and sauce act as perfect compliments to a Double Double, alas, when competing with a third patty and slice of cheese they are almost drown out entirely. Because of that, after my first few bites I found myself thinking "Wow, that's a lot of cheese!", instead of my usual reaction, in which my thoughts melt away during those few delicious minutes.

In the end, the 3 x 3 was a functional burger, though suprisingly quite inferior to its smaller counterpart. Indeed, the fact that that burger inflicted 50% more damage on my body than the already dangerous Double Double all but ensures that I'll never make the mistake of ordering another in my lifetime.

All That Glitters is Not Gold

I have been a bachelor the past five days, with only my Diet A&W root beer to keep me company.* Truly I don't seem cut out for single life.

Granted, it has been worse in years past. There were a few times in Cambridge when Michelle was out of town where I'd find I was staying up until 2 a.m. flipping channels and eating cereal, hoping for something to replace the loss of her company. Diet A&W can be good for that sort of thing, but not nearly good enough.** I haven't been quite miserable this time around, but I haven't really been happy either. Instead all this free time has painted my weekend and my evenings in a grayish hue.

One might be tempted to think otherwise -- that this kind of alone time is exactly what you need. Evenings free without fretting about getting dinner on the table or the kids ready for bed! Just hours and hours to work on all those projects you've put off until you had enough time to get to them. But I defy you to be even half as productive as you imagine you'll be, and to not spend the better portion of your evening or your weekend trying to find something (and generally something unproductive) to fill the void left by your loved one's absence.

Sadly tomorrow they will return, and all this longing produced by their absence will quickly be forgotten amid the daily routine. There might be a few moments, perhaps even a day or two of increased joy, but soon enough we'll settle back into things, and be comfortable enough to be occassionally cross with one another. And then, paradoxically, I'll surely return to craving just a little more free time, not really knowing what I'm wishing for, the feelings that spurred this post naught but foolishness. Only after she leaves again will I remember.

The great tragedy seems to be that even recognizing all this beforehand, I am yet too human to alter that course of those events.

*Yes, my brother Nathan technically has stayed at our home in Michelle's absence, but he's home so little that I've found my Diet A&W is the only thing I can really count on.

**Some of you might be thinking "Hey, Aaron like's Peanut M&Ms a lot -- why doesn't he just get some of those?" To any who might be wondering, I fear without Michelle around to provide some form of regulation (even if it's just a look of disappointment) I might sink to uncharted depths in that regard. I'm not anxious for a relapse right now -- not with Halloween coming, quickly followed by Thanksgiving and Christmas.

Once Upon A Mattress

On Saturday we sat at the feet of the prophets (in our living room) watching General Conference. We also went bed shopping. Thrilling stuff, I know.

I know two things about mattress shopping (and probably only two things): (1) buy a name brand; and (2) never pay full price.

An otherwise unexciting day of shopping was made more interesting because of this fact: we found two local mattress stores both of whom offered to beat their competitors lowest price on any mattress by 5%.*

Michelle would lay on each mattress and comment on the different feel -- often times going back and forth between the comparable Serta and Simmons models. I would lay on each, pretend to have a comment, and think about how much it cost.

After we'd settled on a mattress at the first store we thanked the salesmen and told him we needed to do some due diligence at other local stores. It was at this point that he reminded me about the 5% price guarantee and volunteered that a competitor was selling the mattress we had our eye on for $200 cheaper. He claimed he'd match and beat the price by giving us the same price and not charging us sales tax. That sounded pretty good -- but we still left.

Later in the day we visited the competitor -- who also claimed they'd beat any price by 5%. Their salesman was a bit more aggressive. I'd hoped to keep under wraps the fact that we'd already shopped at a competitor, but Jared gave us away: "Daddy, this store has toys too!"

Once we got the 2nd store to agree to match the first store's price (note, he only agreed to match the first store's price, not beat it), we left and went back to the first store.**

Then came the final bit of finagling. We went back to the first store and sat in the parking lot. Michelle urged me to talk again with the sales rep at the first store, telling him we'd been offered the same deal by his competitor that he'd offered earlier, and asking him to beat it by 5%. I was loathe to be so pushy, since I essentially was making the man bid against himself. Once Michelle pointed out it was all part of the business, and that they'd even invited that kind of haggling, I decided to venture.

After I inquired, the man at the first store decided to sweeten deal by offering us a free bed cover, valued at $120, as well as no interest financing for 26 months (meaning we could earn the interest on that money, instead of them). I rewarded him by letting him know that we thought his presentation was better than the other guy's anyway. We then signed on the dotted line, and are now the proud owners of a new Simmons mattress.

* This had my head spinning. If two competitors promised to be the other's lowest price by 5% -- couldn't I eventually get someone to sell me a mattress for $1?

** The salesman started to press as we made our way out the door, wondering why, with their price match guarantee, I didn't just finalize the sale there. I finally had to be candid: "We're looking at spending a lot of money. I'd like to be able to consult with my wife in private before we come to a decision."

Donut Escapades

In Spring 1997, I was a freshman in college, recently finished with somewhat successful basketball season and only a few months away from a mission. Basketball had brought some degree of notoriety, but did nothing to add to my list of close friends. It was a lonely year in many respects, but would've been more so without my good friend Jamin to commiserate with.

Jamin and I made a memorable Spring break trip that year: a five hour round trip drive to Rochester -- the nearest place with 7-Eleven's -- for Slurpees. Most thought the trip, and my fetish for Slurpees, inane foolishness. I might have agreed, but that didn't mean I had anything better to do.

I thought on that trip Saturday as I decided to drag my family with me to Los Angeles (roughly 5.5 hours roundtrip), to sample a few famed donut shops. Perhaps sensing history, Michelle was surprisingly complicit, especially after I suggested we'd finish the day at Pink's hot dogs. My younger brother Bryan, visiting from Utah, also took to the idea. Perhaps he remembered accompanying me on a few of those early morning trips in upstate New York just after my mission when I took him on an hour long trek to get donuts from from Holland Farms before anyone was up.*

The impetus for this trip was a recent article on MSN, referenced in a previous post, purporting to feature the "America's Best Donuts." Two of the ten shops listed were in the Los Angeles area. As I mentioned before, I was skeptical, wondering openly what criteria were used to discern the best donuts, and what the author's qualifications were enabling him to make such bold assessments. After all, how many shops has he been too? How thorough his research? Had he had any training in donut theory? My suspicion was that by "best", the author really meant "most famous," which often has nothing to do with taste. I felt obligated to make my own assessments. Hence, last Saturday's trip:

At each store we bought six donuts, opting for a standard maple bar and glazed donut where possible, and then selecting the other four donuts based on what offerings seemed most intriguing or appealing. My review the shops and their donuts follows the order of their rankings based on Saturday's visits:

Randy's Donuts

We began the morning at Randy's. Having visited the store earlier in the month, I knew they made quality donuts. Saturday's visit only reinforced that. Our 1/2 dozen donuts cost just over $5. Here's the menu:

We started with another buttermilk donut and this time sampled a glazed donut:

Michelle raves about the Randy's buttermilk donuts ("They taste like buttermilk!"). I don't see (or taste) it.

The glazed donut, though, was remarkable. Soft and slightly warm, the glaze was lighter than most other glazed donuts -- almost more refined. The donut doesn't call attention to itself like its more famous Krispy Kreme counterpart; it's subtlety only adds to its delightfulness. The glazed donut also had more of a homemade taste than any donut I've ever purchased. It was a favorite among all of us and easily ranks as one of the best donuts I've ever eaten. Seriously. I think I'd contemplate a trip to Los Angeles just to get a dozen (well, maybe two dozen) of those glazed.

We also tried a Randy's cinammon crumb donut:

Here, Randy's distinguished itself from a previous favorite donut of mine from Mag's Donuts in Orange County. Randy's cinammon crumb donut -- a cake donut -- was lighter and softer than any cake donut I had ever eaten.

Lastly, we enjoyed the maple bars:

The maple bars on Saturday didn't have the slightly crunchy exterior like the one I'd sampled earlier in the month. They were, however, just as soft and chewy, and the maple icing remains the best I've ever tasted.

Stan's Donuts

Stan's was our third stop, but finds itself second on our list. Stan's didn't make the MSN list for "Best Donuts" but came highly recommended by a friend. I discovered later it apparently made Forbes 2001 list as the best donut shop in America. It certainly lived up to my friend's recommendation, even if no particularly donut there made for a particularly compelling experience.

Stan's is nestled in Westwood very close to the UCLA campus. We spent a little under $6 on our half dozen:



Stan's website boasts over 75 different kinds of donuts, and claims you'll find donuts there that you won't be able to find anywhere else in the world. By all appearances that was true, as the sight of all those difference kinds of donuts was simply overwhelming.

Still we managed to decide on six for sampling:

We first tried the pink donut, which Stan's dubbed "The Simpson's Donut." It looked every bit the part, but tasted very ordinary. The same actually could be said of all the donuts in the box: the glazed (very much like the generic glazed I could get at an Albertson's), the maple bar, the cinammon crumb (which is actually a yeast donut here -- the cinammon crumb is held to the donut by light glaze that actually falls off the donut in large chunks), and the cherry topped cream filled (I'm not sure what we were thinking in selecting this one). The orange buttermilk donut actually did distinguish itself, if only because, as Michelle described it, it tasted like "manufactured orange."

In the end Stan's is a fine donut shop that seems to distinguish itself by variety, rather than quality. It was a fun little shop, and I found myself rooting for the place. I'm sure if there were a Stan's right around the corner from where I live, I'd be quite contented to visit it as my dependable local donut shop. But you know what they say, "Jack of all donuts, master of none."

Frittelli's Doughnuts & Coffee

Last, and decidedly least, is Frittelli's. The first shop on MSN's list of "America's Best Donuts," it automatically brought with it higher expectations. Fritelli's seemed to embrace the expectations, too, by taping the very same MSN article to one of their display windows and prominently displaying a chalk board sign on the sidewalk that claimed "America's Best Donuts!" Alas, the store epitomized my greatest fears style over substance.

Frittelli's appears to market itself as a high end, designer donut (sorry "doughnut") and coffee shop that caters to the rich and famous in Beverly Hills. Indeed the doughnuts can only be had at designer prices. Our half dozen donuts cost us over $11.00 -- more than twice what we paid at Randy's and Stan's. I suppose none of the other places gave us a nice baby blue box though.

(Yes, that's the Food Network on in the background on an HDTV. Perhaps now you're starting to sense why the doughnuts were so costly)

We started with the maple bar:

Once we divided up the doughnut and parsed out samples, Michelle and Bryan gave initially glowing reviews -- with Michelle focusing her comments on the donut's texture. What I tasted, though, was a very ordinary maple bar, and that wasn't enough for me. Once I noted this outloud, Michelle and Bryan were both more moderate in their praise.

We then sampled their blueberry buttermilk doughnut:

The buttermilk doughnut was more dense than what we'd tasted at Randy's. In fact, it reminded me a lot of banana bread. It was a very average doughnut -- with blueberries.

We next tried the "Heath Bar Crunch" chocolate doughnut:

Admittedly, it had never occured to me to put a candy bar on top of a doughnut. I liked the Heath Bar, but the rest of the doughnut was unremarkable. In fact, the candy was sweet enough that it shifts your tastebuds can't taste the donut. Perhaps they intended it that way. (Honestly, I'm not sure I like the idea of candy toppings on donuts.)

Lastly we went with the trifecta of designer doughnuts: butterscotch, orange cranberry, and red velvet:

The orange cranberry doughnut actually came closest to matching Fritelli's reputation -- an orange cake donut, orange glaze, with cranberries sprinkled on top. I felt like I was eating something fancy.

The butterscotch doughnut tasted nothing like butterscotch, and the red velvet doughnut tasted like a bland chocolate (albeit deep red chocolate). With each of these cake doughnuts, the cake itself wasn't nearly as fresh as it had been at Randy's, and I found my I was reminded more of Mag's consistency and texture more than anything else. In a blind taste test they might have easily been from one of the inferior donut shops here locally.

Throughout our sampling, I remained quite cognizant of the price of the doughnuts (nearly $2 each), as well as the chalkboard promises of "America's #1 Doughnuts." Perhaps that's why, on the whole, I found Frittelli's utterly disappointing. Indeed, Frittelli's promises high end, designer flavors, and sometimes the donuts actually tasted like what they were described to be. But even when the taste matched, I often only tasted a very ordinary cake doughnut with exotic flavors. On the scale of doughnuts I've eaten and donut shops I've visited, it would never even occur to me to place Frittelli's anywhere near the top -- even ignoring the price disparity. Were Frittelli's just around the corner from my home, I suspect I'd never even be tempted to visit. And if I was, the cost of those donuts would probably easily drive me elsewhere. The doughnuts just aren't good enough.

So in the end, my research brought mixed results. We confirmed one truly top notch donut shop, enjoyed an average donut shop with lots of character, and, despite it's recent national acclaim, exposed a pretender. All in a day's work.

* For further details, see the 2nd half of the now two year old post on my Top 21 Donut/Pastry Experiences of All Time

Changing of Seasons

Summer has slipped quietly into Fall here in San Diego. The once unmanagable heat, which twice this summer required us to condescend and turn on our air conditioning, has given way to the crisp 78 degree Autumn air.

The changing of seasons has given cause for deep reflection. And, In pondering my existence the past few days, measuring it against the perilous times we are in, I've been stuck with one almost irrepressible thought:

I still cannot be trusted with an open bag of Peanut M&Ms, no matter the size, and no matter how many I may have already eaten in a day.

'Tis the Season

Too early for candy corn?

I didn't think so either.

How to Eat Fried Dough

We returned from Oahu Monday morning.* Those looking for a travel log should look elsewhere. Here we deal with donuts.

The first sampling came from Napoleon's Bakery, which accompanies the Hawaiian restaurant chain Zippy's. We stopped by in the late afternoon to look over the dinner menu, though it was the bakery that intrigued me.**

What you're looking at, and what caught my eye, was this chocolate yeast raised donut. It was a new concept to me, and I had no reason to resist.

While a unique concept, the chocolate yeast raised donut proved to be unremarkable. The chocolate in the dough added very little to the donut beyond the color. still, I didn't lament the 93 cents it cost me to try it.

A few days later we stopped by Agnes' Portuguese Bakery in Kailua. Michelle raved about these malasadas:

I didn't. They have to be eaten warm to be tolerable. Michelle would talk of the crispy outside and the softy and chewy "delightfully warm" interior, with just the right amount of sugar. Perhaps too she was swayed by the notion that their Portguese donuts. Had they been called "Oversized Hush Puppies coated in sugar", she may better have seen them for what they were.

At any rate, I wasn't so easily fooled. Granted, as Michelle pointed out, all doughnuts are ultimately only a combination of fried dough and sugar. Not all donuts, however, compel such coarse reminders of that.

I, instead, spent my morning appetite on these bad boys:

I decided to tackle this enormous cinammon roll, as well as a macademia nut covered maple bar. Both were well dressed up, and undoubtedly would've tasted better if I felt like I could have afforded some milk to go along with them.*** Neither, however, left a lasting impression.

Lastly, while vacationing I ran across an article purporting to list "America's Best Donuts." I'm more than a little suspicious that most, if not all, of the donut shops made the list because they're famous or quirky -- not because they've got America's best donuts. However, one on the list, Randy's Donuts, was only a few blocks from where we parked in Los Angeles.

Groggy though we were from a miserable red-eye, we left a place in our schedule for Randy's. We bought several kinds. In fact, we had to buy $5.00 worth to be able to use the credit card.

The maple bar above was the best I've ever tasted: the frosting was perfectly sweet and the donut itself slightly crispy on the outside. I fear unless I return there again, I will never taste its equal.

The chocolate frosted cake donut above had semi-sweet chocolate frosting. I wasn't impressed, but then the maple bar had raised the stakes a bit. Michelle liked the buttermilk donut a lot too, but my tastebuds had been ruined by the time we got to that donut, so its subtleties were lost on me.

In all, a fine vacation, though I went far enough down that sugary path that we've resolved again to go without sugar...at least 'til Friday.

*First post in almost a month? Two words: Nintendo Wii.

** While there I observed a man wearing a U of U med school polo shirt. He seemed to have observed me too, and apparently wanted to confirm his suspicions I was LDS. His approach left something to be desired: he walked up to me and asked "Are you wearing two shirts because it's fashionable or because it's too cold out?" How would you have responded? I just started at him blankly for a few seconds before deciding to say flatly, "I'm not wearing two shirts."

***Our best efforts found a gallon of skim milk for $5 at Safeway.

President Faust's Passing

I've been remiss in not honoring the passing of James E. Faust sooner.

For those not yet made aware, James E. Faust, Second counselor in the First Presidency of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, passed away last Friday due to causes incident to old age.

There are two talks I'll long remember President Faust for: The first was his talk for the 1998 First Presidency Christmas devotional when he spoke about the similarities between Santa Claus and the Savior -- thus putting to rest any doubts about whether Santa Claus is real.

The second talk was the one he gave during the Sunday morning session of the October 1997 General Conference. It was titled "The Weightier Matters of the Law: Judgment, Mercy, and Faith." It was not so much the doctrine he taught but the emotion with which he shared the following story:

"I fear that some of our greatest sins are sins of omission. These are some of the weightier matters of the law the Savior said we should not leave undone. These are the thoughtful, caring deeds we fail to do and feel so guilty for having neglected them.

"As a small boy on the farm during the searing heat of the summer, I remember my grandmother Mary Finlinson cooking our delicious meals on a hot woodstove. When the wood box next to the stove became empty, Grandmother would silently pick up the box, go out to refill it from the pile of cedar wood outside, and bring the heavily laden box back into the house. I was so insensitive and interested in the conversation in the kitchen, I sat there and let my beloved grandmother refill the kitchen wood box. I feel ashamed of myself and have regretted my omission for all of my life. I hope someday to ask for her forgiveness."

As he drew near to the end of that story, emotion overcame him and he stood at the pulpit weeping as he tried to regain his composure. His tears offered a powerful and eloquent sermon that I have never forgotten.

After hearing of his passing, I thought of this quote of his from the Priesthood session from that same October 1997 conference:

"I would like to say a word to you brethren who are a little older. President J. Reuben Clark Jr., a Counselor in the First Presidency, used to say from this pulpit, 'Brethren, I hope I can remain faithful to the end.' At that time, President Clark was in his 80s.

"As a young man, I could not understand how this wise, learned, experienced, righteous Apostle of the Lord Jesus Christ could have any concern for his own spiritual well-being. As I approach his age, I now understand."

There's little question but that he indeed remained faithful to the end. We will miss you, President Faust, and your good company, good humor, and good counsel. May we live faithful enough to qualify for the blessings you now enjoy.

Weightier Matters

Faithful readers of the Forbidden Donut know that this is a forum for only the most serious of issues. Tonight's post is no different.

On my refrigerator, pinned beneath a magnet, currently rests a coupon from a recent Ralph's circular offering 2 12-14 oz. bags of M&Ms for $2.00. I'm wondering whether I should use it.

Here's my quandry: this morning I reached my long sought after weight loss goal--235 lbs.* Alas, being under 240 lbs. isn't all it's cracked up to be, since, among several remaining physical impefections, my ab muscles remain hidden. Indeed, it will still be with great caution and reticence that I'll take my shirt off on those Hawaiian beaches in a few short weeks.

Partly because of that, and partly for good measure, I've determined I should probably strive to lose another 5 to 10 lbs. (since I've obviously still got it to lose). I figure this will at least give me a good buffer zone just in case I ever feel like I need to eat a dozen donuts or something similar after a particularly trying day at work (or better yet -- for no reason at all).

But the coupon expires next week. Given our impending trip, do I trust myself to buy 2 more bags of M&Ms? The real question is: Have I reached that threshold of responsibility where I can buy those bags of M&Ms and do anything other than scarf them both down on consecutive evenings?

History says no. Indeed, history says the M&Ms would stay in my secret stash jar for a day, maybe two, maybe even a week. But while they're there, I'll be thinking about them. Always thinking about them. And as soon as I open up the bag, I'm only 8 or 9 handfuls and a stomach ache away from finishing it off. Numbness to follow, then contrition, and finally, the next evening, increased cravings for more M&Ms. It's at this point when I talk myself into just eating the 2nd bag all at once and getting those M&Ms out of the house. A stomach ache follows, then contrition, and then the cravings return the next night. Before I know it, seven years have gone by filled out by delightful but regrettable treats, and thousands of promises made and broken to start in earnest tomorrow.

And yet...isn't it a sacrilege to pass up the chance to buy a 12 oz. bag of Peanut M&Ms for $1.00? That's the question that needs to be answered before next Wednesday, when the coupon expires.


* I actually hit this weight a few weeks ago on a fast Sunday but was so hungry by the end that I decided to eat several bowls of Cocoa Puffs and Lucky Charms -- that set me back a few days.

Living In Fear

Michelle & I both managed to finish Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows late last night: Michelle finished around 1 a.m. I followed about an hour and a half later.* Decision time came at about 10 p.m. We'd both been reading about two hours (two separate books, since I was adamant about not sharing in those first few days) when I made the decision to throw caution into the wind and plow through the rest of the book**. I think, perhaps, I may have set the record for the quickest finish for a working bishopric member with two little kids.

Finishing the book meant no longer living in fear -- fear both of those demented souls anxious to spoil the ending, and those who, by overestimating their cleverness at keeping secrets, inadvertently give it away. This is why we tried to keep a low profile, avoided discussing the book with anyone at church, and had to shew away our Sunday evening guest when she mentioned she was reading the book.

In the end, the book, especially the unspoiled ending, was well worth the added measure of security.***


* No, it's not because I read slower. The Federal Government seems to frown upon reading for pleasure during the work day. This is why I was about 100 pages behind.

** It remains unconfirmed, but I may well have finished the book in record time for the category of "working bishopric members with two little kids."

*** It might not have been worth it if I'd ended up missing my court appearances this morning, which I did not.

WiiBay

As if my week weren't already eventful enough, last Saturday we made an afternoon trip to Costco. We'd been hoping only for some bread, tortillas, lunchmeat (and fine samples), but ended up finding a pallet of Nintendo Wii's for sale. I had been searching stores for them casually ever since they came out last November. I'd never found one.

Knowing, as I did, that demand for the Wii continues to outstrip supply -- likely well into next year -- it was a golden find. I wasn't strong enough to resist. But then, I didn't try. Almost as quickly as I saw them on the pallet, I read the sign quickly, put it in my cart, and moved on to buy some tortillas. Michelle even expressed delight.

As we got to the checkout I looked back at the pallet. Several more had disappeared since I'd last seen it. We then raced home. I quickly checked eBay to verify my suspicions, and then I took Jared with me back to Costco to buy two more*.

Yes, you're welcome to come over and play.


*There were five left by the time I got in the check out line again.

Two Stories of Obsession

Alas, I'm left alone on a Friday night with only my blog to keep me company. How dreadful my situation must be!

Yet there is reason for optimism.

The world is gearing up for two major events next week, either one of which would leave their respective fan bases scrambling to catch their breath. Combined, the results may well be cataclysmic. Surely you're familiar with both: the release of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, and, only slightly less well known, NCAA Football 2008.

As to Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, some might be aware I recently took 6 weeks to reread the first six books -- almost to the exclusion of all else.* Having re-read the books, puzzled through Snape's return to the dark side and Dumbledore's demise, I might have thought few people in the world would be looking forward to Book 7 more than I was.

Indeed, I was mistaken. A friend of mine recently disclosed he'd published an electronic book, entitled Harry Potter 6 3/4: The Unofficial Harry Potter Index. The book reveals both an unhealthy obsession with Harry Potter*, and an index of most everything that shows up in the first six Harry Potter books. Jared then takes his research and offers his predictions on what's going to happen in Book 7. I have not read his book and make no vouches for its accuracy or credibility (though it is nice to see his wife gave a testimonial for the book). I note, though, knowing how thorough he was, that I have not read his book for fear that he may have gotten things exactly right -- and I don't want him ruining the book for me. For anyone curious or interested, he's no longer charging for the book. Email me and I'll send you a copy (with his blessing).

As to NCAA 2008, the game will be released on Tuesday -- though there are reports that some stores have broken the honor code and released the game early (No comment on whether or not I happened to visit two different stores today in hopes of confirming such reports and finding an early copy).

I have a long and storied history with the NCAA Football franchise, though again, there may be crazy people more ready to demonstrate their devotion than I. For my part, I actually bought a Playstation 2 last week for the sole purpose of playing this game, particularly online with family and friends. I also splurged on a special memory card that allows me to download the named rosters for all 110 Division I NCAA Teams (said rosters having been assembled by the truly obsessed).

I had initially proposed taking a week off work to both read Book 7 and get the NCAA game out of my system. Apparently, though, we're already using my vacation time on some trip to Hawaii, and Michelle claims it's not refundable. My suspicion, though, is that she just wants first crack at the game.

* Unhealthy in a good way...kind of. It's like me buying a bag of Double Stuf Oreos, then eating the entire bag in one sitting. Unhealthy? Obviously, but also mildly entertaining -- especially if I decide to blog about it.

I hope they call me on a ...

As part of my new bishopric duties, I showed up at the church tonight wearing a white shirt and tie. I had expected to attend opening exercises for mutual. As it happened, however, the missionaries were in the parking lot with a number of priests (also in white shirts and ties) gathered round. Apparently, it was "exchange night" with the priests.*

For a moment it seemed they might need someone else to drive, and I was hardly in a position to make myself seem unavailable.

At one point, an aged onlooker in a Scout leader uniform wondered in what seemed to be a mocking tone of curiosity -- mingled with an air of superiority: "Hey, are you guys going tracting tonight?"** (As though it could be the evening's only worthy pursuit if we were to spend it with the missionaries).

"I sure hope not," I blurted before having a chance to measure my words. The uniformed inquirer was taken aback by the apparent defiance, which I then pressed further by noting "I've already done two years of tracting."

Not willing to give up, he then rejoined with what seemed to be a mounting sense of superiority "Well, we've all done two years of tracting."

"Ah yes," I replied wryly, now determined to win the point, "but I made sure to do mine well enough that I wouldn't have to do it again."

I suppose some see a kind of bravado to tracting. It's like missionary manual labor -- meaning it's hard, and not something missionaries generally look forward to. Perhaps if I were a more upstanding member of the church and a more diligent returned missionary, I would've been chomping at the bit to get out there and go tract out my neighborhood and show both the missionaries and the priests how we Spanish missionaries worked it in Roseville.

Not tonight.


* Why they stopped calling them "splits" is beyond me -- maybe to avoid the inference or implication that ice cream might be involved?

** Apparently he felt safe that he wouldn't volunteered since he was wearing a scout uniform.

You'd Better Watch Out

From reports, Jared had an especially difficult day behaving. He talked with me calmly about when I came home from work and sat next to him in the "time out" corner. In fact, he mentioned at one point that "Mommy and I are mad today." He then seemed to settle down, for a time.

Not much later he was acting up again. Michelle, feeling frazzled, resorted to the only disciplinary option she felt she had left: calling Santa Claus.

Jared happened to overhear her conversation and begged for the chance to talk with Santa as well (no doubt to give a report on Michelle). Essentially, Jared had to be obedient and good or Santa would not bring him any presents this year.

Jared quickly fell in line.

Later, Michelle called Santa back to report Jared's improved behavior. Jared continued to beg for the chance to speak with the jolly old elf, so we gave him the chance. I was on the other end of the line practicing my best "Ho, Ho, Ho", when little Jared got on the phone.

"Hi Santa," he said confidently.

Santa then conveyed to Jared the need to be obedient to be on the "nice" list this December. Jared reluctantly agreed.

I suspect if we use this technique too often, the magic might wear off. Only a few minutes after his rare conversation with Santa, he noted to us "I don't like Santa."

One For the Record Books

I'm sure most of you were hanging onto to your seats anxious for updates on the success or failure of my month long commitment to do without sugar. I've now gone 21 days without it.* Its siren song remains alluring, but has less power over me -- for now. I've matched that effort by swearing off most carbs after dinner and exercising almost daily. As a result, I've lost over 10 lbs. in this same span.

A nearby Ralphs recently sold 12 oz. bags of M&Ms for a dollar a bag (with coupon). Tempting fate, I had Michelle purchase 2 bags of peanut M&Ms for safe keeping nearly two weeks ago. I haven't touched them.**

Last week Albertsons offered all General Mills cereal at 6 for $10 -- 8 for $10 on a special Thursday 8 hour sale. Additionally, for every 3 boxes of cereal purchased, they gave out a coupon for a free gallon milk and a coupon for an additional $2.00 off the purchase of 5 boxes of General Mills Cereal. At last count, I think I purchased 23 boxes that week*** -- also I believe a Clark record.

* By my calculations, it's been over 8 years since I've gone this long without satisfying my sweet tooth.

** By my calculations, this is the longest any two bags of Peanut M&Ms have survived in the Clark household since the candy was invented. [Not counting, of course, the time last year when I'd purchased 24 packages of discounted "Pirates of the Carribean" M&Ms. The fact that any two of those packages survived more than two weeks had little to do with self-control -- since all 24 of the 12 oz. packages didn't last much longer than a month collectively.]

*** No, Michelle wasn't thrilled with me buying 23 boxes of cereal - citing some phantom "storage space" issue. As it happens, though, aside from the bargain basement price of the cereal itself, these milk coupons turned out to be quite valuable: They're apparently worth "up to $4.50" depending on the price of the gallon of milk. However, our local store automatically rings up the coupon as worth $4.50, irrespective of the actual price of the milk. Last Saturday then -- while I was buying 5 boxes of cereal, a gallon of milk, and some 99 cent day old bread -- the cashier accidentally rang up the milk coupon twice, deducting $9.00 from the total, and I ended up with a grocery bill of $1.19. [Of course as soon as I noticed the error, I pointed it out to the manager and cashier, both of whom decided the mistake wasn't worth correcting]. Today I actually used 1 of my milk coupons to buy 2 gallons of milk: the 2nd gallon ended up costing me 19 cents. I suspect these kinds of victories can only be truly enjoyed by those on a tight budget. Or maybe just by me.

**** For those keeping score, this is the 150th posting on the Forbidden Donut.

New Frontiers

Tuesday evening I got an unexpected call from the Stake President inviting me for an interview the following evening. Despite the fact that we've only been in the ward six months, and that I hardly know anyone, I was asked to serve as 2nd counselor in a reorganized bishopric. We were sustained and set apart this morning.

I confess I felt absolutely ridiculous sitting on the stand today -- all the more because I knew that most of the ward probably has no idea who I am. * I've spent the rest of the day bewildered.

Oh, and I've now been 8 days without sugar.

*Indeed, one woman confessed to me afterward that she never remembers seeing me in church before today.

Desperate Times

It's now official. Michelle recently set in motion plans for a week long trip to Hawaii in early September -- without the kids. She can hardly contain her excitement (though I've had difficulty discerning whether her affection the past few days is because she loves me or because she loves this vacation).

At any rate, that gives me little more than three months to at last meet my weight loss goals, which right now are about 20 lbs. away.

Toward that end, and recognizing that the love of sugar is the root of all evil, I committed last night to do without sugar for nearly a month -- using the same kind of stick incentives that've brought me success in the past. It's unfortunate that it came to this, but alas, desperate times call for desperate measures. I lament that I'm not stronger and cannot instead simply adopt a protocol of moderation.

So, as a personal favorite to me, please feel free to enjoy generous amounts of peanut M&Ms, Cookies & Cream ice cream*, and sale priced sugar cereal over the next month or so. It will mercifully mean less for me.

*A recent weakness.