While studying for the priesthood lesson.

It occurred to me some time ago that studying the priesthood lesson should be more than just reading it. And so I've taken to preparing the lesson as if I were going to be the instructor. Two weeks ago I was immersed in that process and reveling in the fact that I had just found how to get the Tabernacle Choir Christmas carol stream.

My practice is to cut-and-paste the text from the manual into a Word document and then dissect it.  I put each section on a separate page and open up the paragraphs in order to see each part of it more easily. It is then arranged so I can see what I feel needs additional emphasis or attention.  The subject of the lesson that week was the sacrament and I started thinking, "How can I make this clearer to myself? What books do I have?" And it struck me that I should go to a book by Tad Callister entitled The Infinite Atonement where I was led to page 218. I began to read:
 
"'Look unto me in every thought.... Behold the wounds which pierced my side, and also the prints of the nails in my hands and feet.' The Savior knew that an honest contemplation of the atonement turns our thoughts and actions heavenward. That is why we have such great emphasis on remembering the Savior and his atonement. It is a central component of the sacramental prayers. To 'remember' the Savior's sacrifice is a repeated theme of the Scriptures. The Lord knows that such reflection is more than a mental exercise -- it is, in truth, a precursor to Christlike works.”

It is interesting that at this point the choir began to sing the Hallelujah Chorus from Handel's Messiah.   I continued reading:

”Years ago Handel composed his masterpiece in choir repertoire -- the unparalleled Messiah. This composition was not just the product of a gifted man. Flowing from the lyrics are the clear markings of divine intervention. The heavenly voiceprint is unmistakable. For twenty-four days Handel remained a spiritual recluse in his room as he fashioned line after line of music seemingly fit for heavenly choirs. At one point, after having scored the Hallelujah Chorus, he called to his servant and exclaimed, 'I did think I did see all Heaven before me, and the great God himself.' Following one of the performances, a friend remarked that he had been entertained. Handel reply, 'I should be sorry if I only entertained them. I wish to make them better.' Likewise, the Savior is anxious that the atonement make us better. He must be gravely disappointed if people merely acknowledge his atonement has a magnificent sacrifice to be viewed in awe, but with no thought of change. The atoning sacrifice was designed to motivate us, to draw us near to him, to lift us to higher ground, and ultimately to assist us in becoming as he is."

With music in crescendo the feeling that came over me was that my testimony of Christ was being affirmed. I was aware that He is aware of me. It brought to my mind what has always been an important part of the story of Joseph Smith's first vision. God the Father spoke to Joseph calling him by name. He knew Joseph. He knows us all - individually. And as unlikely as it is to happen, if we were so blessed in this lifetime to stand before Him and speak to Him face-to-face, He would call us by name.

I feel so blessed that He has given me - given us - His gospel. For "this is the gospel which [He has] given unto [us]—that [He] came into the world to do the will of [His] Father, … that [He] might draw all men unto [Him]… ." That we might "be lifted up by the Father, to stand before [Him] and be judged of [our] works."

I am blessed with the knowledge that the becoming is a continual process and give thanks, especially this week, for repentance.

MERRY CHRISTMAS

"The last words of David"


Hey, just in case you're interested, here's another Randall Thompson the Milwaukie A Cappella Choir did.


The last words of David were to counsel his descendents, the kings he expected to rule after him forever. They are lofty words full of idealism and written in the style of the greatest of all psalmists. He spoke them directly through the spirit of the Lord and in the manner of a prophet. "Now these be the last words of David. ... The God of Israel said, ... He that ruleth over men must be just, ruling in the fear of God. And he shall be as the light of the morning, when the sun riseth, even a morning without clouds; as the tender grass springing out of the earth by clear shining after rain." (See 2 Samuel 23.)   I chose the Tabernacle choir, not because I think the Milwalkie choir could even come close to their performance, but because the dynamics in this piece are so important.  

And again you will have to turn off the choir at the bottom to hear the Choir at the top. 

I hope you enjoy it.

Pardon My Values, but Merry Christmas to All

By Gary C. Lawrence

[This article was first published by the Los Angeles Times in an op-ed column on December 19, 2004.  It was reprinted in Meridian Magazine on December 21, 2010, by permission. It is being shared with you in the hope that you will feel the importance of its message and I will be forgiven for this small transgression. I didn't get permission]

If some calamity punches holes in our records and books, and leaves in its wake only fragments, have you ever wondered what archeologists several centuries down the road will deduce about this holiday we call Christmas?

I predict they will speak with certainty of a civilization that worshiped flying reindeer, bemoaned grandma getting run over by them, and fretted about one with a red nose beset by sibling rivalry issues.

With professional pomposity, they will prattle on about our elves, snowmen, bells, trees, toys, gingerbread and eggnog.  And they won’t have the foggiest notion what put the whole holiday in motion in the first place.

Not that there’s anything wrong with elves, snowmen and bells.  But isn’t it time to recognize one shameful fact?  The pseudo-serious buzz we hear each year about recapturing the “true meaning of Christmas” originates among the same demographic group that blocks it from happening:  Christians themselves.

Polls say that 82% of Americans are Christians, but we’re wimps.  Too many of us have stopped saying Merry Christmas.  My Jewish friends will say it to me.  But many of us Christians offer up PC drivel about Happy Holidays.

Happy Holidays?  Humbug.  Happy is for January through November.  December is for Merry. 

If my Jewish friends are comfortable wishing me a Merry Christmas, but my fellow Christians are not, there’s something wrong in Christendom.

All of which reminds me of something Ted Koppel said on ABC’s “Nightline” in 1982.  He signed off his Christmas Eve program this way:

Those of us who work at this profession of journalism are rarely at a loss for words as when someone asks us to define the nature of news.  Usually we mumble something about the importance of an event – or its relevance or timeliness, hoping all the while that no one will ask “important or relevant to whom?”  As for timeliness, all that means, of course, is that something happened recently.

Well, the event that Christians around the world celebrate this evening and tomorrow did not, of course, happen recently.  It was relevant (at the time) to only the tiniest handful of people; and as for its importance, I think most of us in the news business would have to concede that, had we been there nineteen hundred and eight-two years ago in Bethlehem, we would probably have overlooked the event.  Which says something about what’s news – and what’s important.

From all of us at “Nightline,” Merry Christmas.

If the Jewish anchor of “Nightline” can wish his audience Merry Christmas, why can’t Christians?  

If I say Merry Christmas to someone who gets offended because he thinks I’m “pushing my values,” doesn’t that suggest his own values are weak?

Imagine the reverse situation.  If someone wished me a Happy Hanukkah or Happy Kwanzaa, would I be offended?  Absolutely not.  I would take it as a compliment on my openness.

As always, what was news and what was important were in stark contrast this year.  We had plenty of news, but lost track of what’s important.

It was a year of the most hateful political campaigns that I have seen in 36 years as a political pollster.  The diatribes of 2004 ridiculed, demeaned and trivialized religious belief and attacked those who defer to a higher power, as opposed to those who believe that human intellect is the highest hope for mankind.

And yes, despite these attacks on their beliefs, too many Christians hesitate to express a simple greeting rooted in the second-most important event in Christian history—one that carries with it the promise of peace on earth and goodwill toward all.

Isn’t it time to take a stand?

Merry Christmas … everyone!

A Cappella Choir

During high school I had the opportunity to sing in the A Cappella Choir. My senior year our choir director decided we needed more of a challenge. So in addition to presenting the stage version of "Showboat," we started singing Randall Thompson compositions. "Alleluia" is one that we sang at a Christmas Choir Festival. My mother said it was like listening to angels sing. Although she was probably a biased observer, we were always given high marks by the judges. The video below is that piece sung by a group that, in my memory, we were an equal to. (May I suggest you turn off the Tabernacle Choir at the bottom before listening to this fine choir.)

The story of Jonah from Corinth Baptist Church on Vimeo.

"As a nation of freemen... "

Lincoln's Address Before the
Young Men's Lyceum of Springfield, Illinois

January 27, 1838

 

    "As a subject for the remarks of the evening, the perpetuation of our political institutions, is selected.
     "In the great journal of things happening under the sun, we, the American People, find our account running, under date of the nineteenth century of the Christian era.--We find ourselves in the peaceful possession, of the fairest portion of the earth, as regards extent of territory, fertility of soil, and salubrity of climate. We find ourselves under the government of a system of political institutions, conducing more essentially to the ends of civil and religious liberty, than any of which the history of former times tells us. We, when mounting the stage of existence, found ourselves the legal inheritors of these fundamental blessings. We toiled not in the acquirement or establishment of them--they are a legacy bequeathed us, by a once hardy, brave, and patriotic, but now lamented and departed race of ancestors. Their's was the task (and nobly they performed it) to possess themselves, and through themselves, us, of this goodly land; and to uprear upon its hills and its valleys, a political edifice of liberty and equal rights; 'tis ours only, to transmit these, the former, unprofaned by the foot of an invader; the latter, undecayed by the lapse of time and untorn by usurpation, to the latest generation that fate shall permit the world to know. This task gratitude to our fathers, justice to ourselves, duty to posterity, and love for our species in general, all imperatively require us faithfully to perform.
      "How then shall we perform it?--At what point shall we expect the approach of danger? By what means shall we fortify against it?-- Shall we expect some transatlantic military giant, to step the Ocean, and crush us at a blow? Never!--All the armies of Europe, Asia and Africa combined, with all the treasure of the earth (our own excepted) in their military chest; with a Buonaparte for a commander, could not by force, take a drink from the Ohio, or make a track on the Blue Ridge, in a trial of a thousand years. At what point then is the approach of danger to be expected? I answer, if it ever reach us, it must spring up amongst us. It cannot come from abroad. If destruction be our lot, we must ourselves be its author and finisher. As a nation of freemen, we must live through all time, or die by suicide."


Click here to read the address in its entirety.

One Minute Each Night

During the Second World War, W. Tudor Pole, an English author, adventurer, and businessman, campaigned for what came to be called "The Big Ben Silent Minute." The story of its origin is a remarkable one. It begins not during the Second World War, however, but the First World War. In early December 1917, in the mountains around Jerusalem, two British army officers were discussing the war and its probable aftermath on the eve of a battle. One of them, in a premonition of his death, requested his fellow officer to remember him and the millions of others who would die during the war: "You will survive and live to see a greater and more vital conflict fought out in every continent and ocean and in the air. When that time comes, remember us. You will still have time as your servant. Lend us a moment of it [your time] every day and through your silence give us our opportunity. The power of silence is greater than you know." The following day the speaker, as he had foretold, was killed.

His companion, Major Wellesley Tudor Pole, never forgot his comrade’s last request and at the outbreak of the Second World War campaigned tirelessly to implement a daily observance of silent prayer.

Members of the so-called ‘Big Ben Movement’, with the support of Winston Churchill, took up Mr. Pole's cause and successfully campaigned for the reinstatement of the broadcast of Big Ben’s chimes at 9 p.m. on the BBC as an appropriate observance. The chimes had been replaced by the Greenwich Time Signal at the outbreak of the war. The nine o’clock chimes, which lasted a minute, were publicized as a "Minute of Silent Prayer and Rededication" prior to the first airing on Armistice Sunday, November 10, 1940. The "Big Ben Silent Minute" became a source of inspiration throughout the British empire.

There is now a group of people organizing something similar here in the United States. They would ask that we stop whatever it is that we are doing each evening at 9 p.m. and say a silent prayer for those leading this nation as well as those going to the polls, or voting by absentee ballot, or in any way wielding influence upon the governing bodies of this great nation. Pray for their guidance and clarity of thought. Pray for courage to do that which is difficult but is right. For we will see a "greater … conflict fought out in every continent." Let us remember them who have given us this land and this time. Let us be as noble and courageous as they. For we do still have time as our servant. Let us lend a moment of that time every day and through our silent prayer give them tribute remembering the words of the Abraham Lincoln:

"It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated … to the unfinished work which they who fought … have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be … dedicated to the great task remaining before us — that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion — that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain — that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom — and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth."

One minute out of every day is so little to ask.

The American Form of Government

Thomas Jefferson: On Compromise

There is so much divisive sentiment in the nation today. Each party or action group pushing its own agenda or program with an attitude of total superiority. Any other opinion is to be seen as flawed or completely without merit. The congress is at times almost at a stand-still, reminiscent of a old Hollywood western movie stand-off. The rhetoric becomes so vitriolic that is painful to witness. When I first started watching C-Span it was a pleasant diversion. I truly enjoyed watching the legislative process unfold. Then the debates weren't so extremely polarized. Now I sometimes feel that the founding fathers may have got it wrong. Maybe we should have a parliament with prime minister chosen from a coalition of parties. That system seems to force parties to work together to a common goal through the vigorous exchange of ideas and the willingness to compromise. To compromise knowing that if one gives today, one will receive tomorrow.

I was thinking about this and Benjamin Franklin's table as I cut pieces to floor the attic space above my garage. I had two pieces the width of which together was far greater that the area that needed covering. One piece was almost wide enough to cover the space but not quite. I could have cut some off the smaller of the two in order to fill the gap. Then it occurred to me that a piece that narrow would not have the needed strength to support any weight. It was better to cut a bit off each and have two pieces of equal width and strength.

Part of nursing training was a rotation through the cast room. I learned there that a cast of equal thickness was far superior to one that was thicker in some spots and thinner in others. The point at which the thicker and thinner sections met would be a potential breaking point.

These example from real life seem to support the wisdom of compromise.

Politicians today don’t seem ready to compromise. In fact the very word seems to have fallen on hard times. Young people are told "not to compromise their standards." And though I would argue that has merit, when the same attitude is extended to other venues, where give and take can yield positive results, intractability can and often does produce a no win situation. If one goes to Wikipedia on the internet this can be found: "Depending on cultural background and influences, the meaning and perception of the word "compromise" may be different: In the UK, Ireland and Commonwealth countries the word "compromise" has a positive meaning (as a consent, an agreement where both parties win something)… " But "…in the USA it may rather have negative connotations (as both parties lose something)… " This is not what the founding fathers had in mind. Their concept of compromise was more in line with that of the British.

So it was that I went to Mr. Jefferson to hear what he had to say on the matter. Here is what I found. I'll let him have the final word.

Difference of Opinion
"Difference of opinion leads to enquiry, and enquiry to truth; and that, I am sure, is the ultimate and sincere object of us both. We both value too much the freedom of opinion sanctioned by our Constitution, not to cherish its exercise even where in opposition to ourselves." --Thomas Jefferson to P. H. Wendover, 1815. ME 14:283
"Nothing but good can result from an exchange of information and opinions between those whose circumstances and morals admit no doubt of the integrity of their views." --Thomas Jefferson to Elbridge Gerry, 1797. ME 9:385
"Truth between candid minds can never do harm." --Thomas Jefferson to John Adams, 1791. ME 8:212
"To those whose views are single and direct, it is a great comfort to have to do business with frank and honorable minds." --Thomas Jefferson to Valentine de Foronda, 1809. ME 12:319
"Men, according to their constitutions and the circumstances in which they are placed, differ honestly in opinion. Some are whigs, liberals, democrats, call them what you please. Others are tories, serviles, aristocrats, etc." --Thomas Jefferson to William Short, 1825. ME 16:96
"In every country where man is free to think and to speak, differences of opinion will arise from difference of perception, and the imperfection of reason; but these differences when permitted, as in this happy country, to purify themselves by free discussion, are but as passing clouds overspreading our land transiently and leaving our horizon more bright and serene." --Thomas Jefferson to Benjamin Waring, 1801. ME 10:235
"I am myself an empiric in natural philosophy, suffering my faith to go no further than my facts. I am pleased, however, to see the efforts of hypothetical speculation, because by the collisions of different hypotheses, truth may be elicited and science advanced in the end." --Thomas Jefferson to George P. Hopkins, 1822. ME 15:394

Accepting Differences of Opinion
"Differing on a particular question from those whom I knew to be of the same political principles with myself, and with whom I generally thought and acted, a consciousness of the fallibility of the human mind and of my own in particular, with a respect for the accumulated judgment of my friends, has induced me to suspect erroneous impressions in myself, to suppose my own opinion wrong, and to act with them on theirs. The want of this spirit of compromise, or of self-distrust, proudly but falsely called independence, is what gives [some opponents] victories which they could never obtain if these brethren could learn to respect the opinions of their friends more than of their enemies, and prevents many able and honest men from doing all the good they otherwise might do. These considerations... have often quieted my own conscience in voting and acting on the judgment of others against my own... All honest and prudent men [should] sacrifice a little of self-confidence, and... go with their friends, although they may sometimes think they are going wrong." --Thomas Jefferson to William Duane, 1811. ME 13:50

Truth Will Prevail
"Truth is great and will prevail if left to herself. She is the proper and sufficient antagonist to error, and has nothing to fear from the conflict, unless, by human interposition, disarmed of her natural weapons, free argument and debate; errors ceasing to be dangerous when it is permitted freely to contradict them." --Thomas Jefferson: Bill for Establishing Religious Freedom, 1779. ME 2:302, Papers 2:546
"Time and truth will at length correct error." --Thomas Jefferson to Constantin Francois Volney, 1805. ME 11:62
"Truth advances and error recedes step by step only; and to do our fellow-men the most good in our power, we must lead where we can, follow where we cannot, and still go with them, watching always the favorable moment for helping them to another step." --Thomas Jefferson to Thomas Cooper, 1814. ME 14:200

The Right to Differ
"I tolerate with the utmost latitude the right of others to differ from me in opinion without imputing to them criminality." --Thomas Jefferson to Abigail Adams, 1804. ME 11:52
"That there should be a contrariety of opinions respecting the public agents and their measures,... is ever to be expected among free men." --Thomas Jefferson: Reply to Leesburg Republicans, 1809. ME 16:352
"Every difference of opinion is not a difference of principle." --Thomas Jefferson: 1st Inaugural, 1801. ME 3:319
"Others... may condemn what they would not if seen in all its parts." --Thomas Jefferson: 1st Inaugural Address, 1801. ME 3:323
"When a man whose life has been marked by its candor, has given a latter opinion contrary to a former one, it is probably the result of further inquiry, reflection and conviction." --Thomas Jefferson to Peregrine Fitzhugh, 1797. ME 9:379
"With the same honest views, the most honest men often form different conclusions." --Thomas Jefferson to Robert Livingston, 1801. ME 10:284

The Need to Compromise
"A government held together by the bands of reason only, requires much compromise of opinion." --Thomas Jefferson to Edward Livingston, 1824. ME 16:25
"On no question can a perfect unanimity be hoped." --Thomas Jefferson: Reply to Inhabitants of Boston, 1808. ME 16:315
"Things even salutary should not be crammed down the throats of dissenting brethren, especially when they may be put into a form to be willingly swallowed." --Thomas Jefferson to Edward Livingston, 1824. ME 16:25
"I respect the right of free opinion too much to urge an uneasy pressure of [my own] opinion on [others]. Time and advancing science will ripen us all in its course and reconcile all to wholesome and necessary changes." --Thomas Jefferson to Samuel Kercheval, 1824. FE 10:320
"I see the necessity of sacrificing our opinions sometimes to the opinions of others for the sake of harmony." --Thomas Jefferson to Francis Eppes, 1790. FE 5:194
"It is for the happiness of those united in society to harmonize as much as possible in matters which they must of necessity transact together." --Thomas Jefferson: Notes on Virginia Q.VIII, 1782. ME 2:120
"People can never agree without some sacrifices." --Thomas Jefferson to Lafayette, 1789. ME 7:334, Papers 15:98
"A great deal of indulgence is necessary to strengthen habits of harmony and fraternity." --Thomas Jefferson to Edward Livingston, 1824. ME 16:25
"I will sacrifice everything but principle to procure [harmony]." --Thomas Jefferson to Samuel Adams, 1801. ME 10:251
"Every man cannot have his way in all things. If his opinion prevails at some times, he should acquiesce on seeing that of others preponderate at other times. Without this mutual disposition we are disjointed individuals, but not a society." --Thomas Jefferson to John Dickinson, 1801. FE 8:76
"In general, I think it necessary to give as well as take in a government like ours." --Thomas Jefferson to George Mason, 1790. ME 8:36
"He alone who walks strict and upright, and who, in matters of opinion, will be contented that others should be as free as himself and acquiesce when his opinion is freely overruled, will attain his object in the end." --Thomas Jefferson to Gideon Granger, 1804. ME 11:25
"[A] reasonable disposition,... sensible that advantages are not all to be on one side, yielding what is just and liberal, is the more certain of obtaining liberality and justice." --Thomas Jefferson to Robert Walsh, 1818. ME 15:176

Sweet and Sour Chicken Wings

The result of this recipe defies the simplicity of the prep.
It is so simple - elegantly simple - you'll find it hard to believe it can be this simple when you taste the result!

So here is the recipe:

1/2 cup soy sauce.
1/2 cup white vinegar.
1/2 cup honey.
3 garlic cloves, crushed.
2 inches ginger, thinly sliced.
3 pounds chicken wings.
1 teaspoon sesame seeds, toasted. (optional)
2 teaspoons chives. (optional)


Preheat oven to 475°. In a small saucepan whisk together soy sauce, vinegar, honey, garlic, and ginger. Bring to a simmer over medium high and cook stirring occasionally until mixture thickens and is reduced by half. 30 minutes. Pour through a fine mesh sieve into a large bowl; discard solids. You should have 3/4 cup sauce.

Meanwhile, arrange chicken wings in a single layer on a rimmed baking sheet. Bake until golden, crisp and cooked through, 35 minutes. Drain fat from the sheet and with tongs transfer wings to a bowl with sauce. Toss until wings are coated and most of the sauce is absorbed about three minutes. To serve sprinkle with sesame seeds and chives if desired.

So there it is. Enjoy! Enjoy!! Enjoy!!!.

Here's one for Chris...

Angel Wings in a FedEx Box...

Ah! I remember it well… Or do I?...

I can remember several years ago, sitting at a desk talking to a clerk about my 201 file. To the astonishment of the person across the desk, I was able to give an account of my career, month by month. But as I've said before, that was then and now is now. I've noticed my attempts to recall my past, by going year-to-year, is now at times difficult. For some reason Kathy threw away all of her calendars. And I threw away all of my yearbooks. So all I'm left with is what is stuck in my head. Yeah, I know, and that's not very much.

Kathy has always told me that my memory is like Swiss cheese. I thought that it was rather humorous. It's not so funny now. I discovered that the human mind, when it doesn't have the correct connections, tends to make the connections it feels need to be made. A bit like re-knitting moth holes in a sweater. From a distance, it doesn't look too bad. But upon close examination, it's quite a mess.

But at times, I have is these little revelations. I have flashes. Pictures of places I have been and things I have done. In order to capture these I thought of carrying 3 x 5 cards, but they're not what I really need. I really need a green memorandum book. Like the one I carried when I was in the Army. One with a rubber band and a pencil. I've already created a master outline in the computer. Year by year, and month by month, from my birth to the present. Positioned like a sculptor's armature ready to accept clay. And so I'll try to fill out the form of my life with these bits and pieces. Like the bits and pieces of a sculptor's clay.

In addition to my little green book, I have discovered a remarkable aid to my journalizing. Something that allows me talk and have it displayed on the screen. Not being a great typist or keyboardist, this will allow me to make quick notes, add the contents of my little green book, and keep a day-to-day journal on the master outline. From time to time, some of these entries will appear on this page.

My apologies to those with an aversion to elderly people admitting getting older. But to others with more open minds, I hope this will serve as a warning and a tool. Suggestions on the why and how to keep a daily journal.

I'm No Hero

Let's see, what day is it?
Wednesday already? Doesn't seem possible.

So I guess it was four days ago, the 2010 Seattle-to-Portland.

I was ready. As ready as I had ever felt in the past. I had figured out a way to prepare by riding various loops and routes out here on the peninsula. And I had been riding them. I had figured out how to mix my bottles. And I found the dry mixes in premeasured tubes. Then I'd been able to break it down into one small traveling pack. I had a Ray-Romano optimism about the event. But that's the way I've always been. I know that if I can start it I can finish it. So when I felt a little bit tired Friday evening it really didn't concern me. I thought it was just nervous energy catching up with me and I took a nap. So when I woke up I made final adjustments on everything - or as much as possible - and went to bed.

The next morning was a different story. I discovered that I had a UTI. Early Sunday morning, the doctor would ask me, "How did that happen?" It really didn't matter much, did it? I felt like a steam plant. So I made my usual breakfast. And I started my pre-hydration. By the time I was about ready to leave things seemed quite a bit better. So without mentioning anything to Katherine, I started STP2010. If I started, I could finish.

It's strange how that when I ride on a route I've done several times before, I remember various parts of it. I don't mean the memory of the route itself. I mean, the sensations associated with riding particular sections of the route. It's more like a memory in my legs. My legs felt great. I felt more confident than I had ever felt before. And I felt stronger than I had before. The only hint of what was to come occurred at the 25 mile REI stop. It seemed like a long time was wasted waiting in line to use a Porta-Potty. Something that I didn't think I could avoid.

By the time I got to Puyallup. The situation had become a bit more critical. There were a very limited number of Porta-Potties. (Hint: When you choose a line, choose the one with the least number of women.) I had to jump out of line get on my bike and ride another mile, maybe two, up to where the underpass is by the WSU farm. No lines. At this point I felt I did have to give Kathy a call to alert her.

"The Hill" was a surprise. I'd decided to go to the middle ring and I was passing people. Was it because it had been newly paved? I glanced down and my GPS told me 8%. I'd remembered it as 6%. But I felt good - one of my best rides up "the Hill." After the light at the top I started passing people and continued to do so until just past Spanaway. This in spite of what had become an increasing discomfort sitting on the saddle. As I made the turn toward Roy it seemed to get a lot colder and I started shivering despite the effort I was making. As the saddle got sharper and the temperature got colder, I increasingly looked forward to seeing Kathy at the Fort Lewis East Gate. I don't know what I expected of her.

Originally Kathy wanted me to immediately go to Madigan but we talked and it was decided that I would keep going to Centralia and make a decision there. However, the closer I got to Centralia, the harder it became to sit on the saddle and continue to ride. I'm not like Rob. I'm no hero. I can't put pain away. So somewhere between McKenna and Tenino I sent Chris a text telling him that I would probably abandon at Centralia. But I didn't even make it that far. Kathy picked me up just before Bucoda.

We drove to Centralia for the picnic Kathy had planned. I changed. And we drove to Portland to keep our promise to Chris to drive him home. On the way to Portland we explored several options. Whether to return to Tacoma the next day or that evening. And if we should go directly to the doctor or wait until I had rested. It was decided that we should go directly to the doctor.

So my 2010STP ended at 2 a.m. Sunday morning with me lying half-asleep on a couch in the Acute Care area of Madigan Army Medical Center. And the last three days have been spent dealing with the effects of the infection, the medications, and the cross-reactivity's with the medication that I'm already taking.

On the plus side, everything seems brighter and clearer now. And the end of the peninsula seems as inviting as ever.

New Tires

Well I was closer to home this time.

I was coming up the hill towards 140th and I heard a truck behind me. Since I was really cranking hard I didn't want to move over too much. I tried looking under my arm to see where he was but I couldn't find him. But I could hear him. Then I glanced down just in time to see something bright go under my tires and hear a "poof" sound. Then it felt it like I was riding over cobbles.

When I found the spot in the tire, which wasn't hard, it looked like someone had taken a screwdriver to it. Big right angle gouged clear through to the tube. I looked back to see what I had hit but couldn't see anything bright.

Because I was so only about 3/4 mile from home, I picked up my bike and carried it to the nearest cross street. 140th. I'm down to my last innertube and CO2 cartridge, so I called Kath. I could've taken my shoes off and walked. But then I thought that if Kath came and got me, I could get home, pick up what I needed to go to Performance, and go in and buy tires and tubes, etc. However, the house painter who lives across the street came out to meet us and proceeded to explain what all was needed tomorrow for touch up. That little disruption destroyed the whole timeline. So, we will run on errands tomorrow evening immediately after Kath gets home from work and before her Stake meeting at seven.

This is the second flat in the last five days. And I've lost count of how many there has been since the first of the year. I've gone whole seasons without a flat. What's this all about? I have noticed, however, that I'm not as attentive as I had been in the past. I like putting my head down and going for it. It's fun, but it's getting expensive. But maybe too it's that I haven't had new tires for over a year. Yeah, at least a year. And the hole in the tire was just to the side of where the tread used to be. Maybe that should tell me something. No tread. Yeah, maybe it's time for new tires. And since there's a huge hole in that rear tire what else am I going to do. I guess I'm going to have to get new tires.

Kevlar tires.

Working Overtime

Word to the wise. If your wife asks you to work overtime with her, don't. Well, you know, I say that with my tongue in my cheek. If Kath needs my help, you know I'll be there. It's just that Saturday went beyond, way beyond, what I expected. And it sure went beyond what she had planned.
When we talked about it she said, "We'll get there early, work a couple hours, and we'll be done by noon." We got there at seven and left about 4:30 in afternoon.
What she had in mind was the resorting of 420 feet of contract files that were arranged by contract number. They needed to be resorted by closeout date. The area that she had chosen to sort these contracts in, was probably 10 x 10. It got expanded almost immediately to about double that. Finally, I convinced her that we needed to use the hallways outside and around the file room. We needed to designate specific areas for specific years, and arrange the contracts within those years by months. Then we could go back and sort by date. After we had them sorted completely, we could then put them back on the shelves by closeout date.
When we were about halfway through, it was very apparent that there was no way this could be done over several days. It had to be done, as she planned, on a weekend day. It had to be done when no one else was around. When the department was empty of people acting as distractions. But that meant I was in it for the long-haul. And I emphasize the word "haul". The positive side is, I guess, that I got a lot of weight training.

As a side note, you'll all be happy to learn that the government is saving money by not air-conditioning their buildings on weekends. I can personally vouch for that. The positive from that - I lost weight. Improving my power to weight ratio. But it was, as they say, all water.

And to Kath, let me say, "I love you. Thank you for involving me in this. We haven't worked together like that for a long time - the downside of retirement - and it felt good.."
When you look at me with that openness in your face and say, "Thank you. I couldn't have done that without you." I say, "It's us Kath. We've been doing it together for a long time. We can't do it alone. Neither one of us. It'll always be you and I together."

What Is a Mormon?

Jean-Joseph Mouret: Rondeau from "Sinfonie de Fanfares"

This is for you, Matt.

The Booster comes out

I'm not afraid to say it! I'm a Portland booster.

The Year Was 1952...

The year was 1952 and I had survived a hit-and-run just months before. I say it was hit-and-run because although I remember laying in the ditch at the side of the road and feeling that chill you feel as you wake up. And George Smith running across the road to pick me up and carry me home. I remember asking about my bicycle. I was assured that I didn't need to worry.

I remember that my cousin Ross and I had wanted to shoot targets that day using the archery set I got as a Christmas present. We had been told "No." As I lay on the sofa my dad commented to my mom that I was lucky that I rode my bike instead. Thinking, I suppose, that I might have been killed by an arrow. This way I had only been rundown by a car.

I remember going to Dr. Wheelwright's office on the corner of Main and Monroe in Milwaukie. It was on the second floor and the window faced the barber shop with a red white and blue barber pole. My left hand and wrist felt weak and ached worse than anything I had ever experienced. My wrist had a huge "purply-red" mound on the palm side - I was assured that would go away. I remember the fiberglass cast - I was too small for a plaster cast - and how cool it felt when the doctor painted the resin on.

I remember that it took what seemed forever for my bike to be fixed. It hung for the longest time in the basement. The fork crushed into a crazy shape and the wheel looked like something from a Salvador Dali painting.

I remember my arm itching as it healed and being told not to scratch. And after the cast came off having to wear a leather strap around my wrist that made it hurt. When I tried to loosen the strap I would be told by the nearest adult to "leave it alone." Even Sister Carlson, my Sunday School teacher, would stop her lesson to remind me that I was to "leave it alone."

But I do not remember anyone coming to ask about me. No one came hat-in-hand, humble and contritious to inquire, confess, or condole. And it never occurred to to me ask about it.

I guess I just felt lucky to be alive and convinced I was indestructible.

My Parents Wedding Anniversary

This piece returns me to a place in time before the death of my father and a to a period in our lives laden with sense of vulnerability. I truly felt loved and accepted - perhaps for the first time in my life. The plan of happiness as revealed looks forward to the time when we all will exist in peace and joy. But still at times my heart lingers in the those moments when I truly felt that, if only fleetingly.

What day is it?

I've forgotten a lot of my birthdays through the years. It became almost a tradition. Strange that as one gets older and would like to forget them, more and more folks are eager to be the string around the finger.
Probably the most notable lapse - for me at least - the one that stands out in my mind - is of the birthday at BYU in 1962. It was right in the middle of finals. For CE101 the final was a project that involved producing the working drawings of an adjustable vise. As I remember we had to jockey for time in order to get enough time at a drafting table to comfortably complete the drawings without smudges, inconsistent lines, poor arrowheads, etc.. My bane were arrow heads… inconsistent lines… etc.. At least we didn't have to ink them.
It was my thinking that working late in the evening would give me a good amount time without interruption or distraction. And so after my last class on Monday I went to the "lab" resolved to finish the final sheets by the end of the evening. Things went fairly well and it didn't bother me that I missed supper. Even though it would've been the first good meal since Friday. Weekends were fend-for-yourself at 2320 North 835 East and I would either heat soup on my iron or try to choke down Helaman-Hall-cafeteria-test-kitchen-failures. Mostly I ate soup. Although there were some girls through the block that liked to exercise their mothering skills and could be counted on occasionally to save me from starvation. And so I didn't drag myself back to the dungeon until close to… well, I'm not sure when it was but the lights were out. Everyone was in bed. And there was a note on the table next to the cake my mother had arranged for.
The note "thanked" me for not showing up at my birthday party. Indelicately worded but still within the guidelines of the Honor Code.

The one that I didn't forget but still missed the party was my seventeenth. I was grounded and my friends had arranged a surprise party. They assumed since I was able to talk myself out of about anything and considering the situation… it seemed liked a slam dunk. Alas…
That one I wish I could forget.

On the other side of the coin - of all my birthdays I think the one I've most enjoyed is the one at Gari of Sushi watching Ninja Warriors with my guys. That's the real thing…

"Pants... on the ground... "

I Resolve...

My resolution for the new year is… obviously it's not to stop procrastinating - look at the date!
It's… Well, let me start another way.
I was doing a search for Beecher stuff and came across a blog (Dear Reader) by one Suzanne Beecher. Ms. Beecher is a busy and ambitious young lady. She has owned a restaurant, founded and published a business magazine, founded a non-profit program to feed the homeless, home-schooled her youngest son, and writes a daily column at DearReader.com. And in her spare time she wrote a book, Muffins and Mayhem: Recipes for a Happy-if disorderly-Life which will be in bookstores on or about June 1, 2010.
That's not all. She also designs book clubs for publishers, book sellers, and libraries across the country. If you join an online book club, every day, Monday through Friday, you will receive in your email a five-minute selection from a chapter of a book. By the end of the week, you'll have read 2-3 chapters. you'll know whether or not you want to add that book to your to-read list. Additionally, since Suzanne likes contests, you could win a bubble machine, a signed copy of a book, or some of her homemade chocolate chip cookies.
But with all that what really struck me was something she wrote on Wednesday of this past week. Suzanne wrote, "I do my best writing when I'm living in Mayberry." Mayberry? Why Mayberry? Well, it has to do with making life more enjoyable - more meaningful. A way of dealing with life's little irritations and at times things that go far beyond the trivial. Looking past what might seem to be impolite and offensive and attempting to find the good. Pulling my boots out of the mire of the mundane to join the celebratory parade. Seeing life in a positive light. Not through rose colored glasses but accepting reality. To tolerate but not embrace. Allowing freedom of choice and choosing happiness. Allowing life to be more fun. And isn't that what it's all about - to have fun? Or to say it another way - to have joy or to find joy in living?
Again then, my resolution for the new year is - yes, to read more but more importantly - to find at least one thing each day that someone else has done that day to bless my life. And give thanks for it.
So, to quote Suzanne Beecher, "Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends."

The Julie/Julia Project

I just watched the movie Julie & Julia. At the end I had to ask, “Is that all there is?” There had to be more. It seemed so unfair that Julia hated Julie and her blog. She must have gone to Julia and worked things out. Would you have? She went to the museum! So I went looking. I had to find out why Julia disliked Julie. Google led me to the Food Renegade, You-Tube, and the real Julie Powell. And I found out that Julia felt that Julie was not serious about cooking. Of course you know how Julia feels about cooking. So I read a few of Julie’s postings.

Now I understand why Nora Ephron wrote the screenplay and her character Julie the way she did. Julie of the blog is a whining, expletive spouting, narcissist. If Ephron had made her Julie true to real-life Julie, it would have meant empty theaters after the first week. But I think she tried to warn us. She wanted us to know. Know that this is a nice little movie about a nice young lady. But the person of the real The Julie/Julia Project is not. Why else would she have written that ending that ignores such a slap in face? And Julie of the movie did describe herself as a b****. But did you think she was? I didn’t.

We were warned!

Although I didn’t read the book and can only judge it from the blog, I’ve got to say this is the only time the movie is better than the book.