Seminary Answers

The title of this post doesn't have reference to what have sometimes been termed the "seminary answers" or "Sunday school answers." Instead I'm thinking about a seminary teacher by the name of Brother Harris who at some point recognized that I could always tell where he was headed, and knew exactly what answers he was hoping to get to certain questions. Especially when he was trying to do a lead-in to some topic. He'd ask questions expecting/hoping for a certain set of answers, and then he'd turn things on their side a little by suggesting what might be more appropriate answers. The trouble was, too often people didn't understand the importance of the expected answers coming out first. But he figured out that I knew exactly what he was doing and exactly what answers he needed, so he'd sometimes ask me specifically even though other people had hands raised and I didn't. I really only remember one specific incident along these lines, but my feeling is that something of a similar nature happened on multiple occasions. The one time I do remember it happening, the question was along the lines of "If you won the lottery, what's the first thing you would buy?" Now, as this was a seminary class, these really bright/pure kids (and I don't mean to mock or anything, they really were some great, pure kids) immediately began to give answers like "Pay tithing!!!" (with all three exclamation marks) or, once that had already been said a time or two, "Donate to the (insert line from tithing/offerings slip here) fund." Well, I could see that Bro. Harris really didn't want these answers, that he was really heading in a completely different direction and he couldn't get there with tithing. I was caught off guard just a little when he ignored the half dozen hands in the air and asked what I would buy. (Maybe with a little more emphasis on the word buy this time.) So I didn't have an answer exactly in mind, but I just said the first thing that came to my mind, "I'd buy some four-wheelers." Anyone who knows me well would recognize how ridiculous this answer was - I could have just as easily said a shotgun or a talking pony - and I think Bro. Harris knew that four-wheelers were nowhere on my list of most desired possessions, but I imagine a look of relief sweeping across his face with a smile as he asked what things like four-wheelers other people would buy. And the class got back on the track that he wanted.

This may well be my proudest moment.

Talents

I should be doing homework, but I thought I'd pause briefly to list one of my talents:

Going down stairs

Someone once told me that I'm good at going down stairs. Sometimes, when people compliment you, they're just trying to be kind. I think in this case it was nothing more than a statement of fact. I am good at going down stairs. This is one of my talents.

Re: A largely non-related incident

A follow-up to the previous post on gum balls (gumballs):

I was home yesterday for my dad's birthday and saw that more than half of the gumballs are gone. I'm told my youngest brother went home for a day and ate essentially all that are missing. Probably over 100. He argues that it was over the course of two days (though he didn't claim that it was more than a 24 hour period) and that he didn't eat as many as first appearances might suggest.

Che, 100 Gumballs? I thought I knew you. My friends (said after turning to face the camera), this is what is wrong with America.

Regrets

I heard a speaker this week who said that there's no reverse in life, that we can't go back, so we just need to focus on the future and move forward with a positive outlook. Something like that.

At first this sounded fine, but I'm now convinced that this is much too narrow a view of life. Of course there's a reverse in life! We can't redo anything physically, but if life were only physical, then this whole exercise would be pointless. If I regretted 2/3 of my past and made those regrets central to my present, I'd be perfectly satisfied. I think that this is not only supported rationally, but doctrinally.

How about that

It's funny how things work.

Dirt

100 apologies without changing, but all posts from here on out may or may not be related to the overall theme that has served this blog up until now - namely, rounders with visqueen.

So I saw a movie that I liked at times, and in it one boy tells the other he would eat dirt before telling the other a lie. The second boy asks, "Would you really eat dirt if I asked you to?" "If you asked me to... yes, I would. But you wouldn't ask me to. Would you?" This isn't really what they said, they were speaking in another language. But the subtitles ran something like that.

So, beyond the immediate emotional impact of the scene and its importance in establishing the relationship which becomes central to the film, this was interesting to me as I thought about people for whom I would eat dirt if they asked. There are other things that are harder to do than eating dirt. I also thought about what these things might be. I didn't come to many conclusions.

And now the clothes dryers were out of order, meaning that I've had to air dry my laundry. This was not a significant problem.

This park in particular

So I recently returned from the same park where the original inciting incident took place.

For today:

Rounders: some
Visqueen: none apparent

But I was thinking about a number of occasions in which I've done time in this park. On one occasion I remember clearly walking after having left the park, and thinking about the poem by William Carlos Williams:

There were the roses in the rain
Don't cut them I pleaded
they won't last, she said
But they're so beautiful where they are.
Agghh, she said, we were all beautiful once
And cut them and gave them to me in my hand.

I didn't look that up to check that I still remember it properly. If anyone wants to offer corrections, that would be magic. I also don't remember the title, if it had one.

But I thought that that was an especially appropriate poem at the time. I don't think it would have been entirely appropriate today.

Another time that I went to this park was for a birthday party for three people. I only knew one of the three, and wasn't sure if I should take a gift for the other two or not. In the end I didn't. I did bring a bag of miniature chocolate bars, as the invitation had requested that each guest bring food to share. The interesting thing was that, arriving fifteen minutes late (I didn't want to be the first one there when I knew that I wouldn't know anyone there but this one che) I was the first guest there. But in the end that was to my advantage, as I was able to meet the other two birthdayists, and also a number of the guests as they slowly started to arrive minutes later. I was also the only guest to bring food, but that was also probably advantageous, as the food provided by the birthdayists was extensive. There were some jelly beans that I and my friend enjoyed, even though others didn't like them much. For a gift for my friend I quietly gave him a copy (unwrapped) of Treehorn Times Three. (I didn't want the other celebrants to feel left out when I didn't give them anything, but I'd never met them and only had one copy of Treehorn Times Three. This was a mistake - you should always have multiple copies of Treehorn Times Three on hand in case you need a gift for anyone on any occasion.) He later read it, or at least some of it, and enjoyed it to some degree.

I don't remember thinking about any poems after I left the park that day. William Carlos Williams probably wouldn't have been exactly apropos on that occasion either.

I wasn't thinking of poetry on the walk from the park today. I did think about some songs:

Lord, in the morning, Thou shalt here my voice ascending high. To Thee will I direct my prayer, to Thee lift up my eye Up to the hills where Christ is gone to plead for all His saints, presenting at His Father's throne our songs and our complaints.
(There are two tunes to this song, I only thought of one.)

Now shall my inward joys arise and burst into a song, almighty love inspires my heart and pleasure tunes my tongue. God on his thirsty Zion's hill some mercy drops has thrown, and solemn oaths have bound His love to shower salvation down. Why do we then indulge our fears, suspicions and complaints? Is He a God, and shall His grace grow weary of His saints?

These lyrics might also be inaccurate. It wasn't 'til much after I'd left the park that these came to mind, and have very little to do with the activities of the evening or the park itself.