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.

American Idol Woes

There it was. Michelle and I had invested almost two hours in the American Idol season finale -- on a 20 minute DVR delay. We'd waded through random musical numbers, including "Wind Beneath My Wing" from an apparently inebriated Bette Midler.* We endured awkward, cringe-inducing "Golden Idol" awards, and a Clive Owen speech about how wonderful American Idol is and how many records they've sold. We didn't want to, but we did -- and it would all be worth it when they announced the winner of this year's American Idol is...


Hey! Wait a minute! What the...?!


Alas, our DVR stopped recording the show just as the winner was about to be announced. For a few seconds, Michelle alternated between anxious, high-pitched squeals, and threatening growls (strangely resembling a menacing coyote).** Since we'd been on a 20 minute DVR, we totally missed the ending. All was lost. We had to check out the online news websites to find out Jordin won.

I blame on the fact that Michelle opted against voting for Melinda Doolittle last week. (I still debating whether to ever forgive her for that.)



* Though maybe she was just trying to liven up the song by acting inebriated.

** She also came very close violating one our recently added house rules: Don't throw the big TV.

Take Me Out to the Ball Game

I took Jared to his first Cubs game a few days ago -- they were playing the Padres here in San Diego. I'm not sure which of us was more excited: Jared, who would get to ride the trolley, drink lemonade, and eat popcorn; or me, getting to watch the Cubs in an idealized father-son evening.

It started out that way. Jared was fascinated by the trolley, peppered me with questions most of the way there, and stole the hearts of the surrounding passengers.

The game, however, was a little different story. Oh the hot dog, lemonade, nachos, and ice cream cone were everything Jared had hoped for. He cheered for the fireworks following the home runs (and I let him, even though they were for the wrong team), and asked me more then twice when we were going to be able to get out on the field and play. I hadn't quite counted on the possibility, though, of a nearby drunk guy screaming words Jared had never heard before, at the top of his lungs, at some of our favorite players. The man must have thought himself quite amusing...that is, until I put him in a non-lethal version of the Siberian choke-hold.*

Michelle and I are now waiting out the next few days to see if Jared managed to learn any new words lately.

*No, not really. Only with great effort, however, did I manage to avoid throwing peanuts at him.

Mother's Day Meanderings

Semi-organized thoughts and anecdotes from the last three weeks:

• Among the highlights of my two week training in South Carolina: I went nearly two weeks without sugar. To acknowledge the accomplishment, I devoured a 12 oz. bag of Peanut Butter M&Ms for dinner the following evening.* [Obviously, as long as I'm eating them to replace a meal -- instead of in addition to a meal -- I figure I'm cutting calories.]
• Leading up to perhaps the most important day this century -- July 21, 2007 -- I've started re-reading the Harry Potter series. Oddly, when I've been caught reading these books on the trolley or an airplane several adults have felt quite at liberty to strike up a conversation discussing the books [the kids normally just smile or nod approvingly.]
• I set a new record yesterday on our exercise bike: 10 miles, burning 596 calories in 24:36. This bested my previous record for the 10 miler, set in May 2005, by 14 calories and a full 20 seconds. I chalk it up mostly to temporary insanity and a dash of guilt over what I'd eaten the night before.
• I've now seen two late night screenings of Spider-Man 3 since it came out last week, and have fallen asleep during both viewings.
• We went out for pizza with friends Friday night. What does it say about a pizza place that their best dish is an ice cream sundae?
• Jared and I got Michelle a Mother's Day gift yesterday -- an IKEA gift card. Though Jared was supposed to tell Michelle it was a secret, he instead immediately told her exactly what we'd bought: a red card. Even so, our established family routine should have required Michelle to at least feign some obliviousness [and thus maintain the illusion of a surprise]. After all, it's only common courtesy. But she didn't. Instead, she defiantly declared that she was pretty sure she knew what we'd bought. So I gave her the gift a day early and she lamented that I'd spoiled Mother's Day. That'll teach her.
• Speaking of Mother's Day, Michelle, anxious for a sugar fix of her own this evening and recognizing she'd used up all the eggs yesterday, asked that I make her no bake cookies tonight. [In my youth I was a master at the art of the no bake cookie, having learned to keep them on the stove for just the right amount of time to ensure the proper texture.] Making them tonight, though, brought back teenage memories, including one time I had made no bake cookies on 3 consecutive evenings. On the third evening, when my dad found me hovering over the stove as the milk, sugar, butter, and cocoa came to a rolling boil, he rebuked me and wondered openly whether I wasn't addicted to sugar.** Obviously he couldn't have been further from the truth.

* My research indicates that Peanut Butter M&Ms are far inferior to their more upstanding older brother, the Peanut M&Ms How can I tell? In a typical 12 oz. bag of Peanut Butter M&Ms, I start feeling disgust and regret before I even hit the halfway point in the bag. With the 13 oz. Peanut M&Ms bags, those feelings are easily delayed until at least 2/3 of the way through the bag. Never mind that I end up finishing the bag in one sitting either way, the Peanut M&Ms offer a far less unpleasant experience.

** Mind you, he never actually told me to stop making the cookies.

Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

A few of us at my office are headed to South Carolina for two weeks of training from the Department of Justice. The thought is that we'll emerge from the training as able trial lawyers.

We had one of my co-workers over for dinner recently who is also slated for the training. In conversation his wife expressed some reticence about the two-week training and the possibility (surely mostly in jest) that he'd be swept away by some of the solicitious eye candy that'd surely be attending the conference and sizing him up.

After they left, I wondered openly to Michelle why she didn't share similar concerns. I expected something from her that both reinforced her trust in me, and also reminded me how dashingly handsome I remain. Instead I got this:

"Oh, I'm not worried about that. I'm just worried about how much you're going to eat!"

Sunday School

She played contented in my arm
And cooed mid my hand's soft caress
I felt to catch her playful glance
And hold fast to her trusting touch.

But I could not hold her tight enough
And the moments hurried past,
unmoved by helpless pleas.
Time would rob me of my little girl;
I missed her already.

House Rules

We had family home evening tonight. Owing to some of the events of the day in our home (which perhaps it'd be better if history mostly forgot), Michelle gave an impromptu lesson on "rules". She'd hoped to have us collaboratively agree to a "No yelling" rule. Once Jared learned what a rule is, though, he sponanteously suggested several of his own:

• Don't kick the lamp
• Don't kick the clock
• Don't kick the computer
• Don't kick the walls
• Don't kick the couch
• Go on the potty
• Don't pee on the floor (this had been suggested previously)
• Don't hit, except for the mean, mean pirates
• Don't throw the big TV

Our home feels much safer now.

Old Habits

It's that time of year.

It doesn't matter what kinds of promises I made to myself in the contrary...With a few minutes to kill during my lunch hour today, my feet made their way to a nearby downtown Ralphs to survey the leftover Easter candy.

I came home with three bags of candy: Cadbury Mini-Eggs, Reeses Pieces, and Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. Each were $1 a bag.

Throw Down

This past weekend, Michelle threw down the gauntlet, sending a message that her cooking needs to be taken seriously.

First there were the birthday cupcakes on Friday. Up into all hours of the night on Thursday, Michelle put together both strawberry and brownie cupcakes. Those strawberry cupcakes, though a little understated, ranked among the best cupcakes I've ever eaten*. The brownie cupcakes were no slouches either.

Saturday night Michelle took it to another level and put together a restaurant quality Mexican meal (that I would've paid money for): carne asada, grilled shrimp, rice, beans, homemade salsa, and guacamole. It's easily in the top three meals she's made of all time.

If that weren't enough, there was the three layer, triple chocolate cake, with ganache filling.

Yes, I know. I was thinking the same thing. I married well (Lots of hours as a missionary tracting hard in the rain -- ask anyone).

Anyway, please, take your best shot at matching Michelle's cooking. She'd like nothing better. Be warned, though, I've yet to meet her culinary equal (except for that one time we went to see Alton Brown). Just make sure I get to taste the fruits of your labors.

*At least one co-worker gave voice to the same opinion. Another, perhaps overhearing those comments and sensing the challenge, brought in her own cupcakes on Monday for no apparent reason. For the juicy details, please email the secret family question to my email address.

Cause for Celebration

I'm 29 years old today, and we're going to celebrate (the 15 or so grey hairs on my head notwithstanding).

A few years ago, as my birthday approached, I had a conversation with Michelle that started down the well worn path of feigning disinterest in any birthday celebration. "Oh, don't worry about it. It's not that big a deal" was the general theme of my remarks. Michelle rebuked me and effectively stated that birthdays are a big deal in our house, and I'd just have to deal with it.

Ever since I've allowed myself the indulgence of looking forward to my birthday, and reveled in the fact that we make a big deal about birthdays in our house.

Conference Chaos

Years ago when I was a missionary in the budding metropolis of Corning, CA (the olive capital of the United States). Soaking in another conference weekend in the chapel, I vowed then that I would attend every session of conference for the rest of my life.

Alas, any hopes of staying true to that promise ended a long time ago. Now, having two little ones, the notion of attending (and even paying attention to) a full session of general conference -- other than the priesthood session -- seems like wishful thinking. As a result over the last few years conference weekend has become a mix of probably uplifting messages that I only catch parts of (and not even those parts not very well) amid a guilt riddled two days where I feel I could've caught more if I'd only exerted myself more. My sense is it's even worse for Michelle -- who doesn't get to attend the priesthood session.

And here's a random conference question I've long been trying to figure out: When I'm watching conference on a delayed schedule, is it as sacreligious as it feels to leave my eyes open during the prayer?