On Dieting

For the 4,932nd time in the last six years, I resolved again yesterday to start dieting today. (I find Mondays are usually a good day to start again). I had actually been doing pretty well up until Christmas. In fact, after reaching a high of 310 lbs. at the start of law school, I somehow got below 250 lbs. this December to 245 lbs.--roughly 10 to 15 lbs. short of my goal. This was no small feat given my affinity for donuts, brownies, and cookies--not to mention my tendency towards excess.

By December 2005, I'd dropped a size in clothes and was even fitting into the suit I wore at my wedding! Perhaps more importantly, I no longer was instinctively sucking it in when fit people walked by or pranced across the TV. Instead there was calm.

My suspicion has long been that those daily habits that brought the weight loss actually brought me daily happiness and self-confidence irrespective of whether I was shedding pounds! For whatever reason, I can't ever get myself to belief that until after I've exercised (and am already experiencing it).

Umm...that all changed again at Christmas. With all those edible Christmas delights, New Year's excess, and then the stress filled 6 week business trip, I gradually lost all of my good eating and exercise habits. I didn't think too much of it (latency and lethargy seem to produce their own form of anesthetic that almost masks the happiness that comes with exercise and right eating). Last week I tipped the scales again at 259 lbs. and realized just how far I'd fallen. I'd exercised exactly 3 times in six weeks and started eating just about anything and everything I pleased, at any time I pleased (though I always tried to drink skim milk).

I've been sucking it in ever since.

So as I start again today, for the 4.932nd time, I thought I'd share three maxims that guide my perspective on weight loss:

"Eat to live, not live to eat."
-Who knows

"We never repent of having eaten too little."
-Thomas Jefferson

"Never take weight loss advice from a fat person."
-Aaron Clark

Here's to hoping I won't be starting for the 4,933rd time next Monday.

A Grand Day Out

I am a man prone to excess on certain things. Sometimes I able to control myself, but other times not so much. For the last few weeks I've been in one of those "not so much" phases. (The habit destroying six week business trip didn't help). This might explain why I've had to move back one hole on my belt loop, and why my scale reads 10 lbs. heavier than it did last month, and why I haven't been able to say no to a cookie, brownie, or bowl of ice cream in a long, long time.

Today it was cereal.

For those not adept at counting cereal boxes in photographs, that's 14 boxes of cereal. Jared and I bought them this evening.

I can explain.

First, I was deprived as a child. I grew up the oldest of nine kids in a home where good food rarely lasted more than a day, and treats (e.g., ice cream, cookies, brownies etc.) never more than an hour. Any effort by my parents to alter that shelf life (e.g., hiding things, threatening to cancel Christmas, etc.) only made us more resourceful.

This meant cold cereal rarely found its way to our home--it just didn't last long enough to justify buying. Occassionally we got generic corn flakes or toasted oats, but mostly it was peanut butter toast, oatmeal, or Cream of Wheat. Those fancier cold cereals were things we could only dream about, and which we usually only saw at Christmas time.

So essentially, my purchase tonight was making up for lost time.

Second, Michelle wasn't with me. She wasn't there to whisper that 14 boxes of cereal might be a few too many (it was almost 15, but somehow I found strength to resist buying a $2 box of Cinnamon Life). She might've stopped things at the outset, but she chose instead to be sick and stay at home. I think there were forces at work bigger than all of us tonight that wanted this to happen.

Third, we allocate money in our budget each month now to food storage, which tonight I interpreted as license to buy crazy amounts of non-perishable food when I feel like it. Again, Michelle wasn't there to say otherwise.

Fourth, and most importantly, it was all on sale*. And not just on regular sale either--super sale.

Jared and I went to Target first and found the generic cereals on sale for $1.50 a box. How could I say "no" to knock of Golden Grahams at $1.50 a box? In my mind I couldn't, so I got four boxes.

We then went to Ralph's, which was offering "Buy 10 boxes of Post Cereal for $20 and get a $10 rebate." I bought 10 boxes. I knew full well that I'd just bought 4 boxes of cereal, but I could hardly be expected to pass up name brand cereal at $1 a box. And what's more, I had a $1 coupon, bringing that price down to .90 a box. Even the most tight fisted miser can't pass that up.

So now Jared and I have 14 boxes of cereal stored up in his bedroom closet. What adds more to our joy is that many of these cereals are kinds Michelle won't touch (e.g., Fruity Pebbles). That was mostly on purpose.

After all, I want these cereals to last at least a week.

*I can count on one hand the number of times I have bought cereal when not on sale--it's just one of those things you don't pay full price for except in emergencies.

Not All Donuts Are Created Equal

This past weekend Michelle and I celebrated our 6th anniversary with a trip to San Francisco. There, an otherwise pleasant trip was almost marred on Saturday morning by one of my worst donut experiences of all time.

We'd planned breakfast with some friends at their apartment, and it fell on us to bring pastries. A friend of ours mentioned a local donut place in Menlo Park, "Sweet Amy's," though he couldn't necessarily vouch for its quality. In fact, the fact that it was a donut shop, a deli, a mexican restaurant, and a mini grocery store all in one was not a good sign. Still, I thought it was worth the chance. Donuts are almost always worth the chance.

What we got, though, were some of the most sub par donuts I've ever sampled. To begin with Sweet Amy's has a dismal pastry selection. And what's worse, the donuts were overcooked (likely left in the oil too long--an amateur mistake). Worse still, Sweet Amy charged me $8.75 for my dozen donuts, making them the most expensive donuts I'd ever purchased.

One may wonder why I bothered to purchase them at all, which is a good question. In my defense I can only say that: 1. By the time I knew the price of the donuts, they'd already been selected and packaged (and at the time I thought I either bought those donuts or no donuts at all--and even the worst donuts are usually better than no donuts at all, usually); and 2. I wasn't aware of just how poor a quality the donuts were until we were walking back to the car and I got to inspect them personally.

By the time we got to the car, I knew I'd been ripped off. [Tt's important to note that when I say "we" I'm referring to another friend of mine--Michelle was not with me at the time--if she had been the miracle that followed might never have been allowed to happen.] I didn't have the heart or the energy, though, to bring that to Sweet Amy's attention (I had certainly stopped calling her "Sweet"). It was only as we started to make our way to our friends' apartment in Mountain View that I remembered that I have a Krispy Kreme card that offers a free dozen glazed for every dozen purchased. As we made our way to Mountain View we spoke whistfully about how much more we would've enjoyed 2 dozen Krispy Kreme donuts (and for less money!) rather than these paltry pastries we'd just purchased.

It was then, as got off the freeway onto the Mountain View exit, that we knew there were forces at work larger than both of us. Right there, just off the freeway, was a sign welcoming us to a nearby Krispy Kreme.

The decision took less than a moment. Despite having already invested a previously unheard of amount of money on a dozen glorified biscuits, and despite the fact that our breakfast gathering only involved six people, it was clear we needed to invest in another two dozen Krispy Kremes.

So we did. (I'm just glad Michelle wasn't with us to provide any resistence).

Michelle took the news better than expected (in fact, my friend took most of the blame as an instigator!). And there were donuts. Yes, lots of donuts. In fact, I think before the clock struck noon I'd eaten close to six myself (which might explain why the some of those morning details are hazy--In fact, I probably shouldn't have been driving).

A good time (and a good donut) was had by all--no thanks to Sweet Amy.

On Valentine's Day

Valentine's Day works differently in our house.

I read an article yesterday noting that the average person spends about $100 on Valentine's Day (up from $97 last year). Ridiculous. Michelle and I a few years ago set a rule that we'd allow ourselves to spend no more than $5 on each other.

Of course, it helps that our anniversary comes 4 days later (the 18th), a date well within sight of the 14th, yet still after the price of flowers has fallen from the stratosphere back to normal levels.

The $5 limit has lead to creative gift giving. For instance, three years ago I gave Michelle a laminated card entitling her to a massage a week for a year (with the proper disclaimers on back). Last year I upped the ante and gave a similar card entitling her to a massage a week for the rest of her life (or mine--whichever ends first). For some reason, that wasn't an easy thing to do. Michelle in turn has given me a cookie of the month coupon book, and a miscellaneous good deeds coupon book.

Last year she outdid herself making me a wish jar with wish money. Essentially she gave me $4 in wish money, every penny representing a 5 minute wish (the money could be combined for BIG wishes). I haven't had the heart to do many BIG wishes, though I did try wishing for more wish money (the fine print didn't say I couldn't). I also tried wishing for lengthy tasks to only take five minutes (or to only count for five minutes). For some reason, she never takes those wishes seriously (always alluding to some mysterious "reasonableness" requirement). I think I still have $3 of wishes left. The money was supposed to expire today, but apparently I've been granted an extension since her pregnancy rendered her entirely incapable of granting wishes for three months. I'm thinking of blowing it all on One BIG wish. Any ideas?

At any rate, we both mentioned to each this week that we can't possibly top last year's gifts, and what's more--we don't really want to. We'd have nothing left to give in 2-3 years time. So this year we opted for baser pleasures--chocolate. I got Michelle some Double Chocolate Milano cookies and a Hershey's EXTRA Dark chocolate bar with a poem attached:

These presents are dark.
Like my heart.
Without you.

She got me a Whitman's sampler, as well as a "Time Out!" card that entitles me to, up to twice a day, exclaim "Time Out!" and have five minutes of her undivided attention. Jared got chocolates too. All under $5 a piece.

Tonight Michelle went all out, cooking a meal that could not have tasted any better had it been cooked by the finest restaurants. Chicken Parmesan, Ceaser Salad, Cheese Sticks (absolutely irresistible), Martinelli's Sparkling Cider, and Chocolate Dipped Strawberries for Dessert.
I'm not sure I've ever eaten a finer meal--seriously.

Jared was obviously pleased too (that's mostly chocolate on his face--and he's got a sugar cookies in his hand!).


Hopefully your Valentine's Day went as well as mine did. If not, I'm happy to share some of my chocolates with you.

To Dave (on Biographers)

The post below was originally a response to my friend's comment to my "On Biographers" post. I've thought my response, though, worthy of its own post. Forgive me if you think that error.

Dave,

I wish I'd learned earlier to value your disagreements with me, as I've learned more in my discussions with you than perhaps with any other friend.

Honestly, I hadn't quite expected you to disagree with me, mostly because I wasn't quite sure of my own position. Your comment has had me thinking most of the afternoon, though, and now it seems quite apparent that we disagree.

Responding to President Packer's statement that "some things that are true are not very useful," you contend that nothing that is true is counterproductive. Calling something "counterproductive" is admittedly different than calling something "not useful" because the former seems to mean "damaging," which goes a step beyond merely "unhelpful." I just want to make it clear at the outset that there's a significant difference between the two, and that President Packer used the term "not useful."

There's a great deal that's true that's not very useful, and this is not simply limited to inane truths (like the # of buttons on your phone). I'm certain now that this applies to many of the more juicy truths as well.

For instance, if we know by revelation that Joseph Smith was a prophet of God, how can it possibly be useful for us to then note, even in context, the prophet's faults? It's true that understanding all of his actions in context, our position that he was a prophet should not change, but what has it helped? I can't see how it helps. (Some might argue that our ability to honor and sustain him as a prophet in light of knowing his weaknesses would strengthen our faith, which to me would mean taking a very liberal view of "strengthen." I know that, for me, being made aware of a church leader's weaknesses has never strengthened my faith that the leader was nevertheless called of God, even though I'll still sustain that person after learning of them). We knew he was a prophet before, and the light shed on his weaknesses seems like it can only possibily damage that conviction, even if it doesn't ultimately do so.

Even with your Columbus example, assuming he IS the man Nephi spoke of seeing in vision (which I happen to agree with--if not him, who?), you never mention what benefits there are to making us aware that he might have been a racist and ego maniac. Even if it's true, what's the benefit?

You do seem concerned that if I'm not made aware of Columbus' weaknesses, the rest of society will think me ignorant (and perhaps rightly so!). But are you saying that the biggest thing to be gained is that I won't be ignorant (or thought of as ignorant)? That hardly seems worth the price, and honestly that hardly seems like a benefit. That hardly seems helpful.

President Packer's point was simply that when God has made certain facts clear through revealed truth, bringing to light facts that could cast doubt on those truths is simply not helpful. It might not hurt (and indeed, properly understood, it shouldn't hurt) but it's not helpful--except curing ignorance I guess, which neither he nor I see as inherently helpful.

President Packer's point seems all the more clear, at least to me, in the context of a marriage (though he wasn't talking about this). In the course of a marriage, you invariably learn of some of the less desirable characteristics of your spouse [assuming they have any]. Yet when we talk to others about our spouse, we tend not to mention those less desirable points (unless there are SERIOUS things where help is required).

Why is that? My sense from your comment, Dave, is that the position you advocate should lead us to disclose our spouse's problems to others to release others from the shackles of "superficial blissfulness," apparently for some deeper happiness to be found when the rest of us have the chance to know our spouse's weaknesses in context and look past them. If some should choose not to see the full context of our spouse's actions and think poorly of her because of it, their favorable opinion of her was based on ignorance anyway (even though, ironically, their unfavorable opinion now also stems from ignorance).

But we don't do that, and I think it's safe to say neither of us think it'd be right to do that.

Again, Why? It's certainly not because those character flaws might not be true, and it's not even necessarily because, when those unsavory parts of our spouse are understood in context, that others won't still think well of them (after all, we do [or at least we should]). It's not because of our own pride or vain ambition to look good in front of others (or at least it needn't be).

I think it has something to do with an inherent need to look for and accentuate the good in people. I think it also has something to do with love and mercy, and hoping that God will keep His promise to "remember [our] sins no more." (It seems significant to me, tonight, that the Lord didn't say "remember your sins in context").

What I think I can safely say is that mentioning those things one may notice about his/her spouse can't possibly help anything, even if it doesn't ultimately hurt. In fact everyone is better off if I'm the only one who notices them, and if I'm the only one who ever knows about them.

Anyway, thanks Dave. Your comment was quite thought provoking.

Home Again, At Last!

I arrived home yesterday from the Oakland area with little fanfare, at least compared to two weeks ago when I was supposed to be coming home for good. It is nice to be home, and hopefully to be done (for real) this time.

We celebrated my arrival last night with a family party, which for the Clarks simply meant watching Toy Story 2 (Jared calls it the "Red Toy Story" since the DVD cover is Red) with some Finding Nemo Fruit Snacks. Afterward, since Monk was a rerun, we tried suffering through John Stossel's 20/20 investigation on 20 common myths and misconceptions (e.g. Gas isn't really that expensive! Some people are really rude with cell phones!). It didn't take long for us to realize sleep was the better option.

Tonight Jared wanted to play with Legos. I got them out and then asked what he wanted me to build. I was envisioning a grandiose tower using all available Lego pieces. Jared, however, had other ideas. He responded enthusiastically "Monkey!"

So here it is:

I have to say, give my limited artistic background and rudimentary tools, I was more than moderately pleased. In fact, I defy anyone to create a finer monkey with a similar set of Legos.

Jared waited a few moments before destroying. Apparently even he was in awe.

I then asked him what he wanted me to build next. He seemed to be working on a tower, so I thought he might want some help.

"Elephant!" came another enthusiastic response, and I was beside myside.

But something deeper inside me would not be denied.

I was asked once in high school by a sports reporter with an agenda what it was like to be "in the zone." As I stood there, with cameras rolling, I wanted to scratch my head at the question and respond sarcastically (since my shot selection rarely strayed from 6 ft. from the basket)*.

Tonight I might have been able to tell him.

The Legos spoke to me and told me how they should be arranged. I was merely their instrument. Truly the work was greater than the sum of its parts. A few more nights like this and I may be ready to leave the legal profession. A few more assignments like my last one and I surely will.

But, yes, I'm elated to have the company of my wife and son once more.

*According to recent reports, this was apparently one of those rare moments when I kept myself from saying what I really thought.

A Word to Biographers

A previous post inartfully tried to flesh out my reticence to read biographies that tend to be critical of people otherwise admired and revered, especially of the Founding Fathers. I've spent the last few days still trying to puzzle through whether that reticence is proper.

How fortuitous, then, that I've been reading through Boyd K. Packer's book Let Not Your Heart Be Troubled. One of the talks included speaks almost directly on this issue, though admittedly his focus seems to be on church historians and their portrayals of church history and the prophets.

Here are a few of the quotes that seemed most illuminating from pages 106-109:

"Some things that are true are not very useful.

"Historians seem to take great pride in publishing something new, particularly if it illustrates a weakness or mistake of a prominent historical figure. For some reason, historians and novelists seem to savor such things."

....

"Some time ago a historian gave a lecture to an audience of college students on one of the past Presidents of the Church. It seemed to be his purpose to show that that President was a man subject to the foibles of men. He introduced many so-called facts that put that President in a very unfavorable light, particularly when they were taken out of context of the historical period in which they lived.

"Anyone who was not previously acquainted with this historical figure (particularly anyone not mature) must have come away very negatively affected. Those who were unsteady in their convictions surely must have had their faith weakened or destroyed.

....

"What that historian did with the reputation of the President of the Church was not worth doing. He seemed determine to convice everyone that the prophet was a man. We kenw that already. All of the propehts and all of the Apostles have been men. It would have been much more worthwhile for him to convince us that the man was a prophet, a fact quite as true as the fact that he was a man. "

Now, obviously the Founding Father's were not prophets, which makes me wonder if the caution even applies.

But then this quote from President Stephen L. Richards:

"If a man of history has secured over the years a high place in the esteem of his countrymen and fellow men and has become imbedded in their affections, it has seemingly become a pleasing pasttime for researchers and scholars to delve into the past of such a man, discover, it may be, some of his weaknesses, and then write a book exposing hitherto unpublished alleged factual findings, all of which tends to rob the historic character of the idealistic esteem and veneration in which he may have been held through the years.

"This 'debunking,' we are told, is in the interest of realism, that the facts should be known. If an historic character has made a great contribution to country and society, and if his name and his deeds have been used over the generations to foster high ideals of character and service, what good is to be accomplished by digging out of the past and exploiting weaknesses, which perhaps a generous contemporary public forgave and subdued? (Where is Wisdom? [Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Co., 1955], p. 155.)

It's this last quote that seems so applicable, though I would probably qualify Elder Richards' statement with the provision that the laudatory things said about the great historical figures are true in the first place. (I'm not convinced he meant that we should continue to promote lies about historical figures even when those lies tend toward a favorable impression of them). In my mind, that's why Wilford Woodruff's vision of the Founding Father's appearing to him in the Temple and insisting their work be done becomes such a key point.

Anyway, I thought that worth sharing and would be interested in others' reaction.

On "Mormon Movies"

Apparently there was some LDS Film Festival recently in Utah. That would explain the recent flurry of articles on Mormon movies--and all the Richard Dutcher quotes.

Honestly, one of the questions in my mind lately is whether there should be "Mormon Movies" at all--maybe that's a silly question that no one but me thinks should be asked.

Dutcher's criticism that making "Mormon Movies" has made it possible for mediocre films to thrive--a point I think is true of many many LDS Musicians and Authors.

My problem with Dutcher though, one who frequently depicts mock priesthood ordinances in movies, might not be mediocrity so much (I've never seen any of his movies) but that his depictions of priesthood ordinances trifle with sacred things. The very title of his first movie made me uncomfortable, since it seemed he may be taking the Lord's name in vain.

Those potential problems are magnified in my mind when Dutcher brazenly shows off some of the "warts" of Mormonism and the LDS culture--all the while apparently unfettered by the need to "make more Mormons in the world" with his movies. I guess I'm not sure if that obligation, so eloquently put by Dutcher, is one that can simply be shaken off--and even if it can be, whether it should be. (Question: If Dutcher is really unconcerned with whether his films attract people to the Mormon faith, could there be eternal repercussions if his films actually turned would be investigators away? These are the kinds of things I think about).

When it comes down to it, Dutcher's comfort in displaying the warts of Mormonism, for instance just how foolish and stupid missionaries can be when they get together or live in the same apartment, were what made me uncomfortable about his first movie and kept me away from it.

This all leaves me wondering out loud if there can be a Mormon genre of movies that can be decidely Mormon and tastefully done. I guess I thought "The Other Side of Heaven" came closest to that, but maybe that's simply because I'm so fond of Elder Groberg's book (on which the movie was based), and the fact that the movie used a Toad the Wet Sprocket song in the trailer. I'm anxious to be enlightened.

On Washington

I just finished Joseph Ellis' book His Excellency, on the life of George Washington. The book comes after Ellis' review of the newly catalogued Washington papers, which apparently contain anything and everything left of what Washington wrote.

Admitteldy, I am not an avid book reader, and usually those books I do read are church books, Harry Potter, or most anything by C.S. Lewis. That said, it's been a goal of mine for some time to branch out, turn off the TV a little more frequently, and read more. This month long business trip of mine seemed like the perfect opportunity--especially once the "Everybody Loves Raymond" and "Seinfeld" reruns no longer seemed like good company in my hotel rooms.

At any rate, I had some difficulty grappling with a "realistic" portrayal of George Washington. As the author himself admits, historians dealing with the founding usually fall into one of two camps: Those who practically deify the Founders (especially Washington) such that they could do no wrong, and those who villify them--finding them all to be power hungry, conniving, duplicitous, and racist. Washington again proves an easy target here--precisely because he took such great pains eliminate any evidence of his thoughts and feelings that bordered on being personal (for example, he had Martha burn all of their personal letters after he died)*. I suppose I am guilty of preferring the former treatment of the Founders (deifying them), mostly because of Wilford Woodruff's vision of the Founders appearing to him in the the temple (I forget which) wherein they nearly demanded their work be done. I think this information has been helpful when weighing the merits of certain accusations against them, but I realized recently it has lead me to virtually ignore anything that might reveal character defects.

Ellis' book does not shy away from Washington's apparent character deficiencies while reviewing his life: Washington's early letters reveal he was more ambitious than perhaps he even cared to admit, he was stern and unforgiving at times, even a bit arrogant, and was possibly a bit too fond of the wife of his friend (though no evidence of any indiscretion), and to modern day observers his passive opposition to slavery appears to lack the moral fortitude one would expect from the Father of Our Country. Ellis didn't seem to delight so much in Washington's weaknesses, though, as much as he saw them merely as a necessary part of understanding who Washington was.

Washington certainly comes off as flawed, in fact he comes off as an aggressive and stubborn commander of the Continental Army that at several points could have (and should have) lost the Revolutionary War. His greatest lesson, and the evidence of the moulding of his famous character, was learning to restrain his aggressive tendencies.

Even so, the weight of the evidence, at least presented in this book, reveals a man terribly concerned with propriety who knew from early on that people would hang on (and very likely preserve) his every word, and that he had become more of a symbol than a man and had to somehow be everything to everyone. He seemed to be in constant development in his mastery over his ambition, even if he did still seemed greatly concerned that future generations view him well.

In short, His Excellency tore down many of the glamourized images I had of Washington. I still found, though, plenty of reasons to revere him and his contributions to the founding of the United States of America. His steady leadership during rough times in the Revolutionary War, his surrender of his sword at Annapolis, MD once it was over, and his lack of an appetite for power and the limelight in his later years are but a few of the many things I find admirable. And perhaps most importantly, I do not find his life inconsistent with Wilford Woodruff's vision--where Washington presumably was one of the Founder's imploring that his work be done. In the end, I guess that's the standard against which I'm likely to judge any treatment of the life of Washington, or any of the other principle Founding Fathers.

*In fact, I started to read one book on Washington, by Forest McDonald, for a class at BYU that essentially sought to paint him as the greatest fake of all time. It was a perspective I could not tolerate, and admittedly never got beyond the introduction.

In Defense of Larry Miller

ESPN.com Page 2 today published an article on Larry Miller today (which will later appear in ESPN the Magazine) calling on David Stern to take action against Larry Miller for having pulled "Brokeback Mountain" from a movie theater he owns. You can read the article here.

After reading it myself, I emailed ESPN.com this response:

Dear ESPN Editors

LZ Granderson's article regarding Larry Miller and his decision to pull "Brokeback Mountain" from his own movie theater is out of line. I'm disappointed that the article was given such prominent location on ESPN.com's website.

To begin with, the article seems to assume that anyone who doesn't support a movie that favorably depicts (and thereby at least tacitly endorses) homosexual activity must therefore be homophobic. In essence, if you're not with them, you're against them (and you're homophobic).

My sense from the article is that author would classify everyone who: 1. doesn't agree with the message of "Brokeback Mountain" and 2. doesn't think it should broadcast in their home or business (for fear of being seen as endorsing the message) MUST therefore be homophobic. That's outrageous.

Larry Miller is a Mormon. The Mormon faith teaches that homosexual activity is contrary to God's plan and repugnant to Him. Even so, Mormons have been repeatedly counseled to treat those identifying themselves as homosexuals with kindness and respect.

Since it's well known that Miller is Mormon, the author of the article is essentially castigating Larry Miller for being an avowed Mormon and for not wanting a movie in his theater that openly promotes a message that is contrary to his belief system.

Miller has made no derogatory comments about or shown any hostility toward those who are avowedly homosexual. Not agreeing with the lifestyle (and not wanting to promote it) and yet being tolerant and respectful toward those who chose it cannot be considered bigotry--unless that term applies to whomever doesn't agree with them. That's apparently the meaning the author ascribes here.

As a result, In publishing the article, ESPN has given the author an opportunity to essentially make a back handed assault on Mormons--as well as any religion for that matter, where homosexuality is still considered a sin, regardless of how much these religions counsel their members to be tolerant and respectful of those who still chose that lifestyle. Perhaps the assault was intended.

This is to say nothing of the tenuous linkage of Larry Miller's simple decision to pull a movie from his theater to those NBA players who've been openly derogatory about homosexuals. Are they seriously supposed to be considered in the same breath? On the one hand you have people making comments ridiculing homosexuals and on the other you have someone who simply doesn't want to promote the lifestyle. I hope I am not the only one who sees the distinction here.

And is David Stern really supposed to have such power that he can dictate to owners what movies they are and are not allowed to pull from their theaters should they happen to own them? What about what movies they're allowed to see or not allowed to see?

Sincerely,
Aaron Clark

Drive Thru Tree Street

On my way from Eureka, CA to Lakeport, CA today I drove the 101 South. The drive took me through some beautiful scenes with some giant Redwoods. This got me thinking of that HUGE Redwood that I've seen pictures of (which at this point I can't remember if it was real or not) that apparently had a two lane highway running through the trunk.

Naturally, then, I was intrigued by an exit that proffered "Drive Thru Tree Street." I had some time, so I pulled off the road, searching for the Tree I'd seen in pictures. After following the signs I was directed to a park (a forest park) that promised to hold the "Drive Thru Tree." After driving in, and foolishly thinking I could see the tree for free, I pulled up to a booth where the attendant demanded $5.00 before I could see the tree.

I wasn't happy about the $5.00, but I'd come too far in now not to see the tree, so I handed the money over. "He's just about a 1/4 mile in" the attendant said. I drove forward cautiously--especially since I'm using a rental car. My anticipation grew with each turn around the bend.

Imagine my disappointment then when, while envisioning the huge tree that fit a two lane highway through it, I found that the "Drive Thru Tree" only had a 6 x 6'9" hole. It looked big enough to fit a Mini-Cooper through it, but not much else. I still thought about testing the rental car on it, but realized but kept envisioning the side mirrors getting clipped off. It was the biggest tree I'd ever seen to be sure, but still nothing compared to the mammoth I'd envisioned.

Once I realized I'd been had, I hardly stopped the car. This despite the gift shop only yards from the tree. The gift shop is always the red flag.

I left the "park" feeling dirty, cursing the tree, and feeling almost as embarrassed as I did when I realized a British thief had taken my $400 on eBay after dangling a laptop she would never ship.

Perhaps the worst part was realizing that I can't imagine any situation where I wouldn't have paid the $5. Surely they call them "traps" for a reason.

An Extended Hiatus

We made it back safely from Utah yesterday, though not without experiencing the slow crawl that can make up the drive from Las Vegas to San Bernadino. What should have been a 2-3 hour drive took over 5 as we waded our way through bumper to bumper traffic for over 200 miles.

Now that I'm back, I'll be leaving again. Work will take me to Northern California for the next two weeks, where I'll be on the road visiting the nether parts of the state. There isn't any part of this trip that I'm not loathing, except for the fact that all of my expenses will be reimbursed. It tears at me that I'll be away for so long. All the more because as soon as I get back from Northern CA, I'll be leaving after a day or two for Arizona, Colorado, and Wyoming for similar adventures.

Hopefully after another two weeks they'll let me come home for good.

All this means that I'm not sure what kind of time I'll have to make any posts, since I'm going to be scrambling as it is traveling between locations. But if I do have time to post, that surely would be a good sign. So let's hope for that.

Lessons Learned From Christmas

This post finds me in Layton, UT at the Clark home. Somehow the chaos feels like home, and we're looking forward to ringing in the New Year with a raucous party--at least until midnight (The only thing worse for New Year's than it falling on Sunday is when New Year's Eve falls on Sunday).

While I have a moment, a few comments and commentary on this past Christmas:

• The book A Christmas Carol provides an infinitely more enjoyable experience than any of the movies can provide. Dickens' playful narration is the main reason, though the movies also miss nuance (perhaps generally true of movies). For instance, in the book the Ghost of Christmas future actually shows some kinds of kindness at the end when Scrooge has seen his grave and is pleading for a 2nd chance. It changes the whole perception of the ghost that seems impossible given how the movies seem compelled to portray him (or could the Ghost be a her?).
• We never repent of having eating too little.
• Even on vacation now, my work never leaves me.
• "The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe" is a fine movie. There've been some mediocre reviews, focusing apparently on the limitations of child actors and the fact that it's not The Lord of the Rings. I thought the movie a more than adequate adaptation, my only minor nitpick being that Aslan was not portrayed as being omniscient--apparently needing to question others to learn the fates of the children and others instead of questioning for the benefit of those he questions. I loved the soundtrack too.
• Those Christmas radio stations that stop abruptly the day after Christmas are a bit harsh. Especially given that most of us got that Monday off too in celebration of Christmas, at least try and ease us out of the season.
• Conversations on Christmas over the phone with family are a poor substitute for their company.
• Jared was far more excited about December 25th being his birthday than it being Christmas. He'd recently seen his mother blow out candles and thought it was the neatest thing he'd ever seen. Next year he may be more interested in Santa Clause, since he now knows that the wrapped boxes under the tree actually had toys in them.
• My parents threats to yet again cancel my Christmas after I exposed them in my last blog reveals just how little they've learned in the intervening years. For their sakes, I hope next year to find that Nintendo under my tree.
• Driving out of California takes 3 times as long as Mapquest indicates (15 mph for 2 hours out of San Bernadino County), and try to avoid Las Vegas at rush hour (again, 15 mph for 1.5 hours).
• The proffering of cheap buffets at the Casinos in Mesquite, NV is supplemented by long lines and the smell of entrenched cigarette smoke.
• Never stop in Mesquite, NV except for gas.

Now let's see if we can survive New Year's and the drive back to Irvine on Jan. 2d.

My Darkest Christmas Day

Two nights ago, Michelle, Jared, and I were sitting at the dinner table. Jared did something mildly annoying with his fork, so I jokingly announced that we might have to cancel Christmas.

Michelle's first reaction was something akin to "Oh, I hate it when parents say that!" Of course, I was only joking--having said it in large part just to get a rise out of Michelle. (And I suppose even if I did cancel Christmas it wouldn't really matter, since Jared can always rightly say back "Well, go ahead and cancel Christmas. We'll still have my birthday to celebrate.")

At any rate, that brief conversation brought to the surface a dark, dark memory that had been repressed for years. It took a moment, but when I'd composed myself I told Michelle how one year my parents had effectively cancelled my Christmas, and I think it's obvious I never recovered.

If you can, try to put yourself in the shoes of a 12 to 13 year old boy around Christmas time in the late 80s or early 90s. The Nintendo had been out a year or two, and was the latest, greatest, and only video game system worth having. Only the most spoiled of my classmates had one, though all of us spent most of our free time talking about the latest games, and spent our free thoughts wishing and pining away for a Nintendo of our own. It was the golden age of the NES with the release of Mike Tyson's Punchout (which I still play) and the Legend of Zelda. There had never been anything like it. It was awesome. And it was everything to me.

Of course, given my circumstances growing up, the thought of ever having a Nintendo in my home was nothing more than a pipe dream (how ironic that Super Mario was a plumber!). There just wasn't money for those kinds of things in my home. There wasn't money for anything.

Still, one particular Christmas season I had a paper route and big dreams of saving up the required $100. This would get me my own Nintendo Entertainment System with two controllers, a light gun, and the Super Mario Bros./Duck Hunt Game System. By early to mid December my brother Nathan and I had saved $40. We had figured that with 5 or 6 more weeks we'd have enough saved to finally have a Nintendo of our own.

But these indeed were dark days, made darker by the blackened hearts of parents intent on teaching their children what it might have been like to keep company with the Grinch or Ebeneezer Scrooge before their miraculous changes.

Let me set the scene:

My mother had made some Christmas candy. She stored some of it in a jar in the corner cupboard and had given us children explicit (and all too familiar) instructions not to touch it.

But Nathan and I were weak, and somehow our little hands found their way to the candy jar.

My parents' fury was swift and unrelenting. In their rage they decided to make known that my grandmother (whose presents were always the most expensive) had gotten us a Nintendo for Christmas. Imagine my eyes widening and a gleeful smile starting to crack at the thought. Imagine then to hear that our brief moment of indulgence had made my parents decide to instruct my grandmother to take back the Nintendo. Furthermore, the $40 we had been saving on our own was to be confiscated, and video games were not to be allowed in our home.

I was crushed and filled with wonder at the same time--the thought that I was so close to having my own Nintendo! And yet to lose it without even knowing what was at stake...and for a piece (or two) of holiday fudge! (Not surprisingly, my parents hadn't yet told me about my 8th Amendment right against cruel and unusual punishment, so I thought that there was nothing I could do). To my protests they were unyielding, to my pleas they were impervious, and to my tears their hearts were cold as stone.*

I agonized for the weeks leading up to Christmas over what I might have had and what I'd lost. I told my friends. My closest friend responded privately that my parents' reaction to our minor indiscretion was too harsh. That brought little comfort. But was it possible that a late burst of Christmas cheer might lead my parents to tell Grandma to go ahead and bring the Nintendo?

No. It wasn't. As soon as my grandparents arrived I took every opportunity to scour their car and size up the Christmas presents. Not one of them was sizeable enough to be a boxed NES. I took inventory of each and every present three times on Christmas Eve, and another 2 times on Christmas morning before everyone was up. It wasn't there. Even as we made our way through the presents on Christmas morning, I still held out hope. That false hope only brought more disappointment. There was nothing I could do. Try to sense the pathos of the dashed hopes of that young boy, still trying to figure out why snitching a piece (or two) of fudge could be so costly.

In the years that followed I slowly worked at breaking down the wall keeping video games out of our home. First I got an Atari, which was harmless by then. Then I borrowed my friends aging Nintendo for extended periods of time. Eventually I got up the courage to buy a Super Nintendo with my brother (I think I was 16 by then). This met with opposition, but I prevailed.

I would later prevail upon my wife too, but that's another story. The point here is that Christmas for me was cancelled one year, and I have never recovered (just look at me now and my video game habits)**. And the truth is, I probably never will. Some injuries just cut too deep.

Yes, yes. Merry Christmas to you too. May you and your children never be forced to suffer as I did.


*If you had any idea, too, of just how often we kids snuck into treats you'd realize it was more the exception than the rule when we didn't. In fact, it was so common it was almost expected!

**I've thought about bringing a claim against my parents for Intentional and/or Negligent Infliction of Emotion Distress, but I suspect the statute of limitations has long since run.

Ahh Christmas Traditions

Yeah, nice week for the Clarks. I was in a car accident on Monday (apparently my fault). On Tuesday I was sick enough (and Jared along with me) that I stayed home from work entirely. By Tuesday evening, Michelle felt like she was missing out and decided to get sick too. At this point, too, my mother in law and brother in law came to visit. I stayed home from work on Wednesday, and took short days yesterday and today. Michelle is still sick enough that we missed out on a Christmas boat parade (in lieu of a street parade--or even decorating houses--there's a segment of the population here that deck out their yachts and parade them around for Christmas).

Ahh, but why complain--especially with Santa watching. It's Christmas time, and the Spirit of the Season is more than sufficient to swallow up my troubles.

With Christmas Day now just over a week away, I've been wanting to share what Christmas traditions Michelle and I keep. See how you stack up.

• Making and Eating Gingerbread/Sugar Cookie Houses: I think this started when I was in first grade or so. The Bryant's came by on Christmas Eve in Mohawk, NY. Their boys gave me their old toy matchbox trucks (which I thought were terrific) and we mowed down a sugar cookie house either my Mom had decorated or that the Bryants brought. Few things are quite as delightful as ripping apart a candy laden sugar cookie house on Christmas Eve, and eating a big hunk of wall or part of a roof with a nice glass of milk. Of course, now my family has turned it into a family contest (everything has to be a contest with the Clarks or we lose interest) but this tradition has remained solid through the years.
• Reading a Christmas Carol: This is a relatively new tradition. I remember at one First Presidency Christmas Devotional on my mission President Monson mentioned that he reads A Christmas Carol, by Charles Dickens, every year. That seemed like a good idea, so when Michelle and I got married we decided to do the same. We usually start on December 1, and read about 5 pages a night, getting us easily through the book by Christmas. This perhaps is the only tradition of ours that would give any hint of refinement.
• Posole and Subs on Christmas Eve: My parents raised us on the tradition of Onion Soup and sub sandwiches on Christmas Eve, the latter I think being established in my lifetime (though I bet I only ever actually tasted the onion soup once or twice). Posole, hearty Mexican soup with shredded pork roast and hominy, was a Christmas time tradition in Michelle's home--so combining it with Subs on Christmas Eve has given us the best of both worlds.
• The Airing of Grievances: At the Christmas Eve dinner table we all sit around and talk about the problems and annoying things we've found in those present. (Oh wait, that's Festivus).
• Christmas Eve Program: As long as I can remember, on Christmas Eve my Dad put together a brief program of scripture reading and carol singing, not unlike many Christmas Programs, that ended with us singing "Silent Night" and kneeling in prayer. We've kept it in our home, even when it was just the two of us.
• Announcing Pregnancies/Giving Birth: We found out on Christmas Eve 1994 (during the Christmas Program) that my little brother Peter would be joining us. The news came as quite a surprise (since I was 16 and the Tripletts were 6). It was actually quite a solemn moment for me. In 2002, Michelle and I thought we'd follow that up with news of our own, announcing Michelle's pregnancy with a miniature stocking labeled "Baby" following the Christmas Eve program.* The next year we followed that up with Michelle laboring with Jared all through Christmas Eve and into the morning on Christmas Day. For Christmas Eve 2004 (last year), Nathan and Nichole (my brother and sister in law) let their daughter open some pajamas with words across the chest "Big Sister." We might have done the same this year, but people probably would've been suspecting it, which ruins 80% of the fun for me.
• Up EARLY!: The funny thing about the Clark house is that my Dad is often the first one up. He's an early morning person to begin with, but Christmas morning just makes him giddy and anxious. Don't be surprised then, if you're walking by our house at 3:30am or 4:00am Christmas morning and find him stirring about with Christmas music on, probably the George C. Scott version of a A Christmas Carol on TV, and generally stewing and poking the presents. It's unheard of in our home to sleep past 6am on Christmas morning, and if anyone tries (including those newly wedded to the family) a brigade of Children are usually marshalled by my father to pester the recalcitrant family member until sleep is impossible. This is facilitated in part by the fact that no one is allowed to open their stockings or any presents until everyone is up. Always good times.
• Wearing Santa Hats to Open Presents: A recent tradition that helps hide my "bed head" from photos.
• One Gift at a Time: Maybe it was because there weren't that many gifts going around in the early days, but in my home it's always been the rule that someone hands out the presents under the tree, and then they're opened one at a time so everyone can see and everyone can "Oooh" and "Aaah." It also gives each gift its own special moment. In a family of 9 kids, with a father who always gets too much for everyone, this means that present opening can last for HOURS. Certain of our grandparents have fallen asleep during the middle of it. A few times we've even taken breaks to eat breakfast before resuming.
• Aaron overspending on Christmas Presents for Michelle: Each year Michelle and I set a budget on how much to spend on each other for Christmas presents, and each year I summarily take liberties to spend well in excess. I feel no shame in this.
• Cinnamon Rolls and Farmer's Breakfast: Breakfast on Christmas morning is usually far more elaborate than it need be, since our bellies our usually half full with Candy or Christmas Eve leftovers by then already, but a few Cinammon rolls and some Farmer's Breakfast (Eggs mixed with just about everything--ham, eggs, cheese, peppers, mushrooms, potatoes). It's always delightful.
• At Least One viewing of A Christmas Story during the marathon: I think this one came entirely from Michelle, though I'm not opposed (I'm not sure I'd even seen it all the way through until we were married). We even managed to keep this tradition while Michelle was in labor--that is, before she and the doula decided she was in too much pain for me to be able watch any more TV. Yes, I'm still ticked about that.

Hopefully you have Christmas traditions that you're equally fond of.
*Only days later, Michelle miscarried. That made things rough for awhile, and awkward.

My First Court Appearance

Friday evening, a partner called me at home and asked me to show up for him in the Central District Court in LA today. It was for a status conference.

I made my way there this morning without a hitch, though it took me 45 minutes to find parking four blocks away.

The key to making a court appearance, which I learned by chance at the Christmas party Friday night, is to bring a business card with the party (parties) you represent written on the back.

I never let on to opposing counsel it was my first appearance, though I wonder if it wasn't already obvious. The judge let me say all of two words, but ended up agreeing with me anyway the more opposing counsel kept talking.

On the way home I was so happy that I decided to get into a car accident. Stop and Go Traffic Southbound on the 5, I glanced over at a big right pulled over on the right, only to look back and find there wasn't enough room between me and the lights in front of me to stop. I imagine I was going 10-15 miles an hour. The other guy came out holding his neck gingerly. We exchanged information, I resisted the urge to apologize, and we waited nearly an hour for the CHP to arrive.

They never did. A local policeman came by, inquired as to whether any of us needed medical attention, and then told us we could leave if we wanted since no one was hurt.

I've spent the rest of the day feeling like an idiot. (Resist the urge to make a wise crack about that not being uncommon and you've got a friend for life).

Brett's Funeral

Brett Stern's Funeral was this morning, and I got to usher for it.

I had thought I was done shedding tears, but it was hard to hold them back when I saw pictures of Brett, Hillary, and Avery together. The same was true when Hillary gave the Eulogy. I thought at times that I wouldn't mind if I had a thousand more tears to shed since it did not seem wrong to cry.

Brett's funeral helped me understand better the friend I was just getting to know. I couldn't help but be envious of some of the character traits others described seeing in him and feeling from him. It occured to me that that aspirational feeling was a good thing at someone's funeral.

Gratefully, I have been given more time to work on my own character. I hope I do not waste it.

The Day After

Brett died yesterday in the morning, and I suspect his organs have been put to good use. Sunday at the ward prayer meeting his wife, Hillary, somehow found the strength to get up to the pulpit and address everyone. At that point, Brett was pretty much brain dead, though apparently they had to wait for the brain activity to stop completely. While on the stand, Hillary mentioned that she and Brett had talked with each only a week before, on Thanksgiving, about what each wanted done if they were on life support. Brett told her he wanted his organs donated, and Hillary noted then on the stand that she took comfort in the thought that Brett's organs would make it possible so others wouldn't have to go through what she was going through.

Tears have come much less frequently the past two days, if at all today. Still, I don't think they've been in my thoughts any less. I'm not sure if it's a good thing or not, but Brett's death and the aftermath are becoming more "normal" to me, so it's been easily to deal it and yet also deal with other things.

Not all is resolved though. Tomorrow morning from 6am to 7am I will stand on one of the corners of Culver and Michelson holding a sign asking for any witnesses of the accident to contact the police. From reports, no witnesses beyond the other driver have come forward. He has offered a statement that Brett ran the red light, though the accident investigator has found some inconsistencies in the man's story. Right now it's the only story, though, since Brett never got a chance to give his version.

So, in a desparate attempt to get anyone to come forward, the Elder's Quorum has been marshalling people to stand at the interesection where the accident occured this week, from 6am to 7am each morning, holding signs asking for witnesses to step forward. Obviously, the chances of success aren't very high, but we're not necessarily doing it so we can succeed.

For the moment it's all we can think to do for the Sterns, and the effectiveness of the service we're able to render doesn't seem so important as the fact that at least we're able to do something. So many people have come forward to fill all the gaps that most of us have been left on the sidelines with our hands in our pockets. We want to help. We just don't know how. That's why I'm standing on the corner tomorrow morning.

Hard Words

We are losing a friend we were just starting to know. Brett's wife has been posting news here. He came out of his emergency surgery two nights ago with no brain activity. He is on life support and his wife is now just waiting for his brain to stop functioning so that his organs may be donated.

Michelle and I, and our entire ward, spent the Sabbath yesterday fasting and praying and grieving. It has almost been more than we can bear to think of Hillary and Avery now continuing through life with him who is their father and husband, and perhaps it is mostly for this reason that our tears are so heavy and so frequent. We will sorely miss the chance, though, too, to have enriched our friendship with him and gotten to know better of the goodness so readily apparent to everyone who knew him. As someone mentioned yesterday in our ward prayer, we know of God's plan of happiness, but sometimes it doesn't seem so happy. We exhausted ourselves last night in our grief, but I awoke this morning only to find it still with me. New thoughts or angles on the situtation seem to bring fresh pain, and I can find little comfort in it now.

The Bishop paid loving tribute to him yesterday in Fast and Testimony meeting, telling us that all he need ever say to anyone when he speaks of Brett would be to paraphrase slightly Alma 48:17:

"Yea, verily, verily, I say unto you, if all men had been, and were, and ever would be, like unto Brett Stern, behold, the very powers of hell would have been shaken forever; yea, the devil would never have power over the hearts of the children of men."

I cannot think of a better tribute that might be paid any man than has been paid to him. I am stirred by this thought, grateful that I knew him, and hopeful that when my turn comes my readiness might approach his.

Conflicted Saturday Night

No sooner did I post about the Honeymoon with my firm being over, but that I got assigned to a project which I've spent 23 hours working on in the last two days. At least these hours count toward a billable requirement and potential bonus. Still, I wish I could've spent more (meaning "any") of my waking hours today at home.

My thoughts are only marginally on my work, though. Instead, we got a message relayed from the Bishop this evening that our friend Bret Stern, whom I had mentioned in my last post, is fighting for his life tonight at a nearby hospital. As mentioned before, he was in a serious car accident Wednesday morning on his way to work that caused serious head trauma. He's been in an induced coma ever since and on breathing support. Today, apparently, the swelling in his brain got dangerous enough that doctors had to perform an emergency operation to relieve it. He is now apparently hour to hour. The Bishop had asked previously that we fast this Sunday for Bret and has family, and in this latest message asked that we begin immediately if we had not already done so.

I got this latest news while at work, and gratefully I was the only one in the office because I could not hold back tears. I do not want to think of the consequences of Bret's death on his family, and what that might mean for his wife and child, yet I find I cannot help but to think of them. I started to realize at the office that my fervent prayers for Bret to recover, hoping it might be the Lord's will, were based far more on my worries and fears for his wife and child than for him. These are the kinds of situations we never think to hard about, both because they seem to0 remote and too frightening a possibility. And yet they came swiftly and without warning the Stern family and it cannot be undone and they face terrible possibilities.

With this tragedy so close to us, it has certainly dampened our holiday spirits and desire to drink in the elements of the Season. Of course, I'm still sitting in front of our decorated, lighted (and fake) tree, and some select Christmas CDs viritually carried me through the workday at the office, but I can hardly find reason to be merry when I know our friends cannot be now. When I do feel inclinations to merriment, guilt sets in and I feel as though I have no business being upbeat when those so close to us must wade through anguish, tears, and desperate waiting. I am much more contented in these times to be solemn, perhaps because it makes me feel that in some measure I am contrinbuting and showing my caring for them by reserving my thoughts to worry about their situation.

To what extent my inclinations are proper I can't exactly say, though I know we covenant to "Mourn with those that more, and comfort those that stand in need of comfort." I guess that's why I was suprised the other evening when another friend of mine found my inclinations to be entirely foreign to him.

Some reassurance came tonight when Michelle, unsolicited told me she'd been struggling with similar feelings. We do feel a distinct obligation to reserve our joy until our friends might also be merry. And think too we're anxious to be able to represent to them (and also likely to ourselves) that we have not forgotten them or their situation. Our minds (at least Michelle's and mine) just seem programmed that way.