"Yonder Slip of a Boy"

A quote on the "quotes of the day" widgets I have on this blog caught my attention and it got me thinking.
You've probably heard it or read it before.

Emerson said, "All that Shakespeare says of the king, yonder slip of a boy that reads in the corner feels to be true of himself."

In what light do we view ourselves?
Yesterday I was reading the Book of Mormon in Alma 48, where it gives a rather glittery description of Captain Moroni. Yet, as I read, I saw nothing in the description that couldn't be true of the person you passed in public yesterday. Does boy, who helped his sister after she fell off her bike, feel that the description of Captain Moroni is true of himself?
Do you feel it true of yourself?
I've been in a couple church meetings in the last mont in which we were discussing Nephi, Laman and Lemuel. Both times, the comment was made that we are really a lot more like Laman and Lemuel than like Nephi, but we like to compare ourselves more to Nephi because he was such a good example. Is that right? How should we view ourselves? It seems cynical to compare yourself to Laman and Lemuel, but on the other hand, we don't want to have a misleading perception of ourselves if we really aren't like Nephi.
We really are like Nephi.
We should view ourselves like an optimistic CEO would view his company. There is nothing more valuable in business or in spiritual progression than having a correct idea of the state of the business or individual. In business, a CEO ought to have a realistic view of the problems, predicaments and weaknesses of the business; yet, he ought to believe in the business enough to trust that it will overcome those things, and work to make it reach its potential.
Parents sometimes have distorted views of their children. They sometimes find it hard to accept that their children have a problem. That can be a problem. But, almost all parents have glittering, yet realistic, opinions of their children. They know that they are good. They know their potential and often see what they need to do to reach it. That's how it should be. What gives parents that knowledge? Is it that they know them so well? Or, could it be that it is because they too were once that "yonder slip of a boy."

Code Talkers

During World War II, the United States used Navajos and other Native Americans to send and receive secret messages because almost no one else could tell what they were saying. They were called Code Talkers.
Interestingly, the rest of us try to be code talkers, but our codes are often so easy to decipher that we might as well just not talk in code. In his book, "The Brothers Karamazov" Fyoder Dostoyevsky makes the comment, "As a general rule, people...are much more naive and simple-hearted than they suppose. And we ourselves are, too."

The following are some different types and instances of code talking that I have observed which illustrate that, truly, we're not as clever as we think we are. These are not in any particular order.
First, there's the Sarcasm Code. The sarcasm code is when people say something sarcastically only to hide the sincerity of the statement. Prime example: when I say, "I'm huge," I say it sarcastically so as to hide the sincerity and the obvious truth of that statement.
Another form of code is the Vagueness Code. The vagueness code is best illustrated when one person, who is talking to someone of the opposite sex, with whom they might like to go out with, say they have "something" on Friday night, instead of just saying that they have a date. It's interesting to note that people try to use this code in one of two ways. They either truly don't want the other person to know, or else they do want the other person to know, so they purposely talk vaguely in order to spark curiosity, or just to be coy about it. What's the point?
One of my favorite codes is something we'll call, "Changing the Frame." Changing the frame is when you try to say something, but you frame it in a way that attempts to hide the underlying meaning or motive. Example: I had one friend who was interested in a girl, and another friend who was interested in another girl. The two girls were friends. One friend came up to the other and said, "Hey, I know how you can get in with girl 1. You could spark up a conversation by asking her what girl 2 thinks about me." Obviously he was trying frame the message so that the point of the statement would have been the other friend's self-interests. He failed. It is very clear why he was saying that, and it was not for the other friend. The musician Kalai demonstrated in a concert that he doesn't care to use this code. He said(paraphrased), "You know, a lot of people, when they're breaking up with someone say, 'It's not you it's me.' When I went to break up with a girlfriend, I said, 'Hey, I found someone that I like more than you, and I'm going to go be with her.'" That's maybe a little harsh, but it illustrates the difference.
Finally, we'll go with a code we'll call "The Navigator." The navigator is when people try to turn the converasation towards or away from a certain point. People try this all the time, but it's super entertaining when they fail or make it too obvious. In it's worst form, this code can be blantantly changing a topic of conversation. It can also take the form of asking questions that you didn't realize would come right back to you, and that you didn't want to answer, or giving questions and comments that you know will lead to other questions and comments.
Everyone that reads this knows what I'm talking about and they're probably guilty of it. Maybe we can all realize that we're not really code talkers and leave that to the Native Americans. Again, in echo of Dostoyevsky, You are much more naive and simple-hearted that you suppose.

Ups and Downs of Love

I found out a few years after high school had ended, that a good friend of mine had me in her high school cell phone as "Grandpa Moon." I have over the years been compared to an old man; sometimes having earned it consciously and sometimes without having any idea where it came from. I don't mind it. I guess there is some old man in me already. Perhaps that's why I enjoyed the new Disney movie "Up" so much. It's about an old man.

I've already been laughed at for saying this, but I thought the love story in that movie was the best love story I have ever seen in a movie. It's at least in the top three. I had a mission companion who always used to sing the line, "the greatest adventure is what lies ahead." That is basically the theme of the movie. So, the moral of the story is that love is an adventure, and there's always some ahead. The old man takes his home up, and from the experience finds love.
Movie on from my movie review, I had another experience with love last weekend, only it was down instead of up. No, i didn't break up with someone, it really had to do with falling.
On Saturday, we were working outside the house, and my Dad needed some help felling a tree. So I went and pulled while he cut, since it was right by the house. The tree fell, and all was great, until we noticed the baby bird laying on the ground as if it were dead in the midst of the branches, and the nest from which it fell a foot or so away. At first I thought, "Oh, that's unfortunate." But then we saw that it was breathing. So I bent down and, with my gloves on, cradled it in my hands and put it back in the nest. When I picked it up, it instantly opened its mouth wide for a worm, and I my heart just melted.
I'm guessing it's what happens when a typical girl sees a baby, and they forget everything and gush over the baby, only I wasn't really gushing, and I didn't really forget anything, but my heart really melted. We nestled the nest into the tree that was right next to where the fallen one had stood and hoped that everything would be alright. Everything was alright until an hour or two later when we saw a grown robin on the porch railing with a worm in its mouth and obviously flustered because it couldn't find its nest and baby. Then my heart melted again, and I felt like a big nincompoop. So I ran and got the gloves again, and moved the nest onto the porch railing. Obviously the bird flew away because I'm a scary nincompoop person, and it just happened to fly right into the tree where I had put it. So after a two placements of trying to help, we put the nest back in the tree and hoped that the mom would find the baby. I don't know what happened. I didn't see the mom again, but I can't tell if she found the baby or not. I ripped it's home down. But, maybe the mom found the baby and they realized how much they meant to each other, and they lived happily ever after.
Whether your house gets ripped down, or floats up, "love will find a way" (Blessed Union of Souls).

Life Speed Limit: 60 MPH (miniutes per hour)

I was driving down Center Street in Provo the other day when I noticed two things: the speed limit was 15 MPH and a sign said that downtown Provo was "Historic." I guess Provo itself is about 160 years old, so we can call it historic. Downtown just looks like it's from the 70's so I'm not sure that qualifies, but whatever. The biggest parallel I saw between downtown provo and history was the slow speed. Almost no one goes 15 mph anywhere, unless it's construction or something. Back in the good ole' days, strolling took the place of speeding.
I have a hard time strolling. I'm getting better at it. I used to be really good at it. My mom would tell me to hurry up because she felt like she was walking by herself when we went places. I went on my mission and forgot how to walk slow. I'm getting better at it.
Before my mission, there was a day when I went with a friend to Savers to get him a couch for his apartment. I had something to do, or somewhere to be, and so I was kind of ancy. I remember very clearly how he sat on the couch he was thinking about and said, "relax Moon, you gotta reap it." I guess that what the younger generation does instead of smelling roses.
When you really think about it, people who are always in a hurry are just reving their metaphorical engines. Life happens at a fixed speed. C.S. Lewis said, "The future is something that everyone reaches at 60 minutes per hour, no matter who he is, no matter what he does." Just chillax. Go with the flow of traffic. If you try to go faster, you'll probably experience road rage or get impatient.

Comfort Food

What's with girls and comfort food?

I realize that such a question might be initially offensive and sexist, but then you start thinking about it and you realize that it's generally true. Girls grant great power to food. My only-boyhood, as well as other experiences with girls, has instructed me on the fact that ice cream and chocolate have the ability to make everything ok. President Obama should have allocated stimulus money to the production of chocolate ice cream. Besides those two universals, girls usually have a favorite dish that can have the same effect, such as mashed potatoes or certain salads. I guess I don't have much to comment on this phenomenon. I just know that it exists, and that I don't know how or why it works for them.

I do have something to say however about health. I have come to the conclusion that if America is obese or unhealthy, it's not only because we lack self-control and are lazy. It's partly because we're inconsiderate despite efforts to be kind and because we don't want to offend.

We give each other a ridiculous amount of junk food. Just the other day, my boss got mint brownies for each of us employees in celebration of a birthday. These brownies were a supplement to the cookies she constantly has for us to munch on. I didn't want a brownie. So I tried to walk out without one. I wasn't fast enough. She asked, "don't you want a brownie." I couldn't say no because she had gotten one specifically for me (without asking if I wanted one). So I took it, and thought about how I could get rid of it. I would think it was wierd if someone gave me a mysterious brownie, and I couldn't justify throwing it away, so I ate it and am now more unhealthy than I previously was. Stuff like that happens all the time.

The past two times I have gone out to eat with my family, my extremely healthy mother ended up eating cheese fries the first time and a shake the second time, all against her will.

When people are down we think, "I'll make them some cookies." We should think "If I hated them, I would make them cookies, because then they would be unhealthy and more prone to health problems. Since I don't hate them and I want to help them, I'll take them a fruit salad, or a healthy dinner, or something like that." We never think that. We give junk food to each other everytime we want to be nice. It's not nice. So, if you've read this post and you give me junk food, I'll just assume that you hate me. Perhaps, if you think I can at least get comfort from you chocolate inconsideration, remember that I'm a boy. I won't.

Grand

Last weekend I went to visit my Sister, Brother-in-law and niece. I had a great time.
While I was there, my brother-in-law told me that I might as well not even worry about having kids, since there is almost no hope of having kids that are as cute as his little girl.
My Grandpa Thomas sends me (and all of his other grandkids who have moved out) a quote each month. This months was something like "it is a great pleasure in life to do something people tell you you can't do." It's by some guy.
I went to Jordan's house the other day and started playing his piano, and I fell in love with it. It's a baby grand and it's a nice wood color, and sounds awesome.
Considering all of the foregoing, I resolved that things I want to have when I grow up are a baby that's grand, a grandbaby, and a baby grand.

Jordan

I've kind of strayed from my people commentaries, but I think everyone was just wondering when this post would happen. There is certainly something to be said of my friend and roommate Jordan.
My experience with Jordan can be traced back to high school. The extent of our relationship there was that we went to the same one, and knew who each other were. However, Jordan was too busy being smart, and I was too busy goofing off for our paths to cross much more.
By some wierd something, Jordan and I ended up in the same MTC district. We went to different missions, but were in the same district learning russian. Well, let me qualify that. I was learning, Jordan was having it infused into his brain without putting any effort into it. His companion had already taken russian in school and was far enough ahead that they sent him to a state side mission until the rest of us were ready to leave the MTC. The result was that Jordan was put into a threesome with me and my companion. Our relationship took shape at that point. It took the shape of banter and spite. These were not tools of contention as one might think. They were tools of survival. If you've never been in the MTC for 12 weeks you don't quite understand how the MTC makes your brain weird. Our teacher thought we hated each other, when, in reality, we were just going insane. It should be noted that my attempts to serve him went completely unappreciated (typed with my tongue in my cheek).
Jordan sent me a letter once when we were in the mission field in an attempt to keep in touch. I responded...18 months later. I was busy.
After our missions we made contact once or twice before we decided to be roommates in Provo. I have no idea how Jordan, an extremely red personality puts up with my blueness. He hates blues. Somehow we get along. Luckily, neither of us care enough to be upset about much.
Jordan's latest goal is to become bigger than I am. We all know that will never happen. Sorry Jordan. I've tried to explain it to him, but he starts mixing laughter and words like, "you're so stupid" and "I hate you." I even told him to look in his dictionary where the word huge includes in its definition the words, "see Shawn." Denial is a hard thing for him to overcome. Especially when all of his working out and fat shakes, and blah and blah and blah just don't seem to get him as big as me.
There's much more I could say, and many stories I could relate, but this is a good enough overview for now.