This post is going to be very Utah-centric. I apologize in advance, but continue on anyway.
You know how people tend to complain that Utah drivers are absolutely horrible, and how whatever state the the complainee came from has much better drivers? And you know how Utah drivers often say it’s all the people who move to Utah from California who are really the bad drivers?
Well now there is proof that it really is those Californians! Continue reading
Today is my son’s last day of kindergarten.
Tomorrow is my wife’s first day of hell.
Courtesy of a comment on an FMH thread, I read an article from the October 1972 issue of the New Era that must be shared. It’s awesome. It is entitled, “A Letter to Girls about Lady Missionaries”, by Lana Mangelson, a returned lady missionary.
First, I’m so glad I live now and not then. I mean, technically I was a few months old when this came out, but I don’t remember it.
Second, let us analyze how much has changed in the ensuing 37 years. And be grateful.
But before that, an admission: this isn’t entirely fair. It was a different time and I’m going after this article with the fallacy of presentism. But I can’t seem to stop myself! It’s fun!
BYU-Idaho, in an attempt to maintain political neutrality, has decided to dissolve student political groups for the Republican and Democrat parties. You can read more here. If you would like some history on the on-and-off formation and dissolution of these groups, plus some on-campus reaction, I can recommend this article here.
It seems pretty clear that the BYU campus were concerned about the perception that the Idaho campus is heavily Republican. The college Democrats were not prospering. And the Church is very concerned about remaining politically neutral, but dissolving the student groups seems to me, at first glance, to be a huge mistake.
Here’s why.
On Sunday a tiny baby was blessed in our ward. I didn’t know the family at all (it turns out that pregnancy didn’t sit well with the mother at all, so they haven’t been around), but I’ve known people with the same last name, which I will abbreviate as J. In particular, when my oldest younger brother turned 12 and stole my home teaching companion (our father), my new companion was Brother J.
I was 16 years old, and Brother J. remained my companion for several years, possibly until I left for BYU. Before and after visits we would visit in his car. He heard about school, girls, and friends, and he told me about playing football when he was young, his children and grandchildren, and their activities. He and his wife sometimes came to my high school orchestra concerts. He was a good man for me to be around, and serving with him was very good for teenage me.
Anyway, when I heard that the baby’s middle name was Brother J.’s first name, I knew they were related. I went to talk to the young father after Sacrament Meeting, and he said (pointing to his own father standing next to him), “Yes, [Brother J.] is [N.]’s father.”
But it gets better.
I shook hands with the baby’s paternal grandfather, N., and he suddenly asked me if I work in the U District [of Seattle]. After my reply in the affirmative, he followed up asking if I rode the bus home in the afternoon, which was when I recognized him.
My old home teaching companion’s son is my bus driver.