Christmas stockings

My leg-dar locked onto whatever my wife was tearing up as she walked into the kitchen this evening. She paused before dropping the pieces of package from a new pair of Nordstrom nylons into the garbage, looking up just in time to catch the "Wow, did Santa come in April?!"wonderment in eyes. She smirked and gave a knowing, negative nod as she relegated this pair to the town dump.

A deadbeat's diezmo

One of my sisters has long-since left the Church. It's a story that I have no ability to tell, as the causes and effects all appear to have take a few turns in a Cuisinart.

She's also divorced, and her ex hasn't paid child support in ages, yet remains "active" in the Church. During a recent visit, she said, "If I find out that he's paid one dime of tithing, the gavel's gonna come down on him like the wrath of God!"

Sympathetic to her case, I suggested that before she pursue anything legally, she get a court-stamped statement of his arrearage and attach it to a dispassionate and factual letter to his bishop or stake president. She says that would be pointless, since he's both a chum and a High Priest, and gets kid-glove treatment. I brought her up to speed on the T-Rec interview:

11. Have you ever been divorced or are you now separated from your spouse under order of a civil court? If yes, (a) Are you current in your support payments and other financial obligations for family members, as specified by court order or in other written, binding commitments?

That caught her attention. Then I suggested that if the local approach didn't work, she should write the Presiding Bishopric and cc Elder Scott. "But I don't care what Salt Lake thinks, and they certainly don't care what I think." "Write Salt Lake for two reasons: First, it signs the checks, especially in unusual circumstances. Second, I think you could be pleasantly surprised at the reception you'd get..."

I told her about Elder Scott's question in last fall's Priesthood session: "If you are divorced, do you provide for the real financial need of the children you have fathered, not just the minimum legal requirement?"

She seemed encouraged.

Attack of the sugar babies

This was close to a perfect weekend for us. Friday started off tenderly, and that night we had an enjoyable date and were able to talk about some matters "of consequence" in a thoroughly caring and productive manner. We worked together a bit in the garden on Saturday morning and then all took a bike ride for a picnic at a local park. As we threw the frisbee and kicked a soccer ball around, I was giddy with love for my kids and my wife, feeling grateful and peacefully contented to be part of this family.

Then this afternoon, I read a NY Times article about the Craigslist Casual Encounters section section and other related sites, and an article in The Week about a site that matches sugar daddies to sugar babies. The sites--at least on this particular day and from this particular emotional/spiritual place--didn't sing much of a siren song to me. But the subjects did come-hither me enough to hold my attention for beginning to end--especially with reported claims like, "I’ve met some extraordinarily beautiful women, had a few extraordinary sexual encounters that made my teeth itch and my brain sweat"--which left me disappointed in myself. (That the article cited some men roughly my age as being among the Sugar Daddies provided an additional measure of "Wait, am I getting old enough to be a Sugar Daddy?!" indignity.) I guess a preventative measure would be to read only Gospel-related materials on Sunday, but maybe it was good that I confronted these on a Happy Sunday, rather than a Frustrated Tuesday.

And then to top it off, this evening when I went out to my car to head home from a Church commitment, I found this "Cairo Casino" flier on my windshield. It didn't take me a second glance to see that this was probably not something I needed to focus on, but rather than "touch[ing] not the unclean thing" and pitching it (as I do, instantaneously, with all other window flyers, regardless of what they're purveying), I looked it over. More specifically, I looked over her navel, her décolletage and her thigh, and studied her face closely enough to conclude that it wasn't particularly attractive, but that her appeal lay in the overall presentation. I wondered briefly whether this was for a casino, a play, a strip club or a belly dance competition, then decided that any gig featuring a starlet named "Dia Diabolique" is one that--at least on this particular day and from this particular emotional/spiritual place--I need to steer clear of.

That is, after I scan it for my blog.

Fireproof

This weekend, we watched Fireproof starring Kirk Cameron. Yes, that Kirk Cameron. The show was recommended to us by a few different people independently, so we decided to give it a spin.

It's as formulaic as a bad episode of Diff'rent Strokes. And its production value rivals that of, say, a mid-'70s seminary filmstrip. (You know the evangelicals have fierce Motion Picture Studio envy!)

But buried in the slag heap of overdramitization and didacticism were a few nuggets. Particularly effective was a sequence in which the husband (Cameron's character) throws out the PC and replaces it with a dozen roses and a note reading, "Because I love you more," only to find, on the kitchen table the next day, an envelope bearing his name and containing the divorce papers. His collapse at the collision point of facing the real prospect of getting what he thought he'd wanted (divorce) but realizing that he really didn't want it, while recognizing the failed fruits of his too-little-too-late efforts, reflects a mental and emotional maelstrom that is not unfamiliar to me.

A modest case for the burka

In a recent post, I suggested that the best legs in the Church can be found on BYU campus. As it turns out, the true Mecca for leggy LDS loveliness may well be General Conference.

I attend Conference fairly regularly--and not, despite what you may, understandably, presume, because of the high concentration of quality calvage. Over time, I began to notice Temple Square and the Conference Center environs becoming increasingly bedecked in shorter and shorter hemlines, revealing firmer and firmer foundations of gastrocnemii. And, over time, I began to linger a little longer between and after sessions in order to take in the view.

Then last October, I realized that I had my camera with me, so I stole away from my party for a bit and took some stealth shots as I wandered about.

On the one hand, it was a rush of sorts: There was beauty all around, so why not make the moment last forever? No upsk!rts, no invasion of privacy issues...a tad creepy, yes, but nothing to fear by way of man's law. I even thought, "There's gotta be a coffee table book somewhere in here: Calves Across the Continents, and I'd travel all around the world, capturing candids of the best lower legs the fairer part of our race has to offer..."

On the other, it was, OK, more than a tad creepy. There was no question where God's Law stood on the matter, and I thought, "No man who I really respect would be doing this," which put a damper on my enthusiasm. In fact, I was ashamed. I should have deleted the pictures. I didn't. I tucked them away for six months, and have now posted them here -- not ashamed enough, evidently. (I'm sure that Church Security is already hacking Blogger for my IP address.)

As this Conference approached, I knew I'd be attending, and knew what ancillary opportunities that would bring. During the weeks between our anniversary dinner (see 3/22 "Meltdown" post) and Conference Weekend, my wife and I had a turnaround of sorts, a respite from the resentment, that continues today. So I was less inclined to repeat my Alan Funt impersonation at GC. Nevertheless, I struggled against its tractor beam, to such a degree that I even packed my camera along for the Sunday sessions.

But as things got underway that morning, I prayed a simple, silent prayer, that I'd be made to feel something, anything that would overpower my longing for legs, at least for that critical day -- that something would drive me to sequester myself between sessions, rather than go out on the plaza. I knew what was out there, and it wasn't the protesters I was worried about. It was the Nair infomercial.

That powerful override came at the end of Elder Holland's talk: "My other plea at Easter time is that these scenes of Christ’s lonely sacrifice, laced with moments of denial and abandonment and, at least once, outright betrayal, must never be reenacted by us."

I stayed inside.

Baby steps.

P.S. Last but not least, here's a thumbnail of perhaps the Holy Moliest of all of the shots, the full, original data file to which, perhaps appropriately, became corrupted.

Prying open the windows of heaven

The Priesthood Session kicked my butt tonight, and rightfully so. First, Elder Costa underscored the father's responsibility of daily prayer, daily scripture study and FHE. And then Elder Uchtdorf's admonition to not let small things undermine what really matters echoed counsel that my mother-in-law (who is familiar with the basic dynamics of our marriage) gave us just the other day when she quoted Elder Scott: "When I take a small pebble and place it directly in front of my eye, it takes on the appearance of a mighty boulder. It is all I can see. It becomes all-consuming."

This morning's opening address by Elder Hales was as well-stated a message as I'd heard about Mormons and Money. Elder Hales gave me a personal interview and blessing several years ago in preparation for a special assignment I'd been given, and part of his blessing addressed some of my professional concerns, so it's particularly interesting for me to hear him talk of providing for a family and managing incomes. His statement, "Our world is fraught with feelings of entitlement. Some of us feel embarrassed, ashamed, less worthwhile if our family does not have everything the neighbors have. As a result, we go into debt to buy things we can’t afford—and things we do not really need," intertwined with something to which I've given a lot of thought, given that I work in consumer finance here in Utah. I wrote the following to a relative recently, in response to his having called the attention of several family members to a Gallup survey that found Utah to lead the nation in happiness:

>>I'd seen that recently, and wondered whether it might be as a result of our well-known, perennial position atop the list of per capita antidepressant consumers -- popping so much Prozac, we can't help but be happy. Although I'm not sure how to reconcile the happy-go-lucky thing with our high suicide rate -- 11th in the nation. We're #1 in suicides among men 15 - 24. And while I can't find a source, I heard last year --I believe on KSL-- that we were #1 for attempts (although the vast majority fail...apparently, men use more lethal means) among women 18-35.

I think that this may actually tie (loosely or very directly -- I'm not sure) back to our previous exchange about consumerism & materialism -- Among the broader population, yes, "the posts keep moving" - Once we arrive at what we thought we wanted and would "make us happy," we want more. "Yesterday's wants have become today's needs" was a line in Oct Conference, I forget by whom. [Update: Actually, it may not have been Conference. In looking it up, I thought I'd found it in here, but not so. However, the message for Music and the Spoken Word show #4146 on March 1, 2009, included the following: "In some ways, previous generations seemed to understand this remarkably well. Perhaps because some hard lessons forced our ancestors to be more careful with their resources, they were less likely to confuse their 'wants' so easily with their 'needs.' Now it seems that yesterday's wants have become today's needs."]

(Side note: Interestingly, in the Progress Paradox book I mentioned, the author, Easterbrook, says that the fact that so much of our population has arrived at a point of material satiety may be contributing to general depression and disillusionment -- our parents/grandparents associated real hope and satisfaction with the dream and then reality of moving from a cramped apartment and no car, to a three-bedroom home and one car; our modern equivalent (moving from a 3500 sqft home and two cars to a 5000+ mcmansion and three cars + boat) doesn't carry the same fundamental benefits to the psyche, so when we arrive there and feel empty, we feel like the only way to fill up is to keep going for more. Ah, those wily philosophies of men.)

We Mormons have been taught that if we're righteous, we'll "prosper in the land" -- but we don't define prosperity by the basics of healthcare, safety, food, shelter, etc., which the OVERWHELMING MAJORITY of our planet's inhabitants still lack to a shocking degree but which the OVERWHELMING MAJORITY of Utahans currently enjoy. We define prosperity by what we've allowed Madison Avenue to tell us it means. (And it's not their fault; it's ours, by willingly opening ourselves up to these messages. Advertisers try to "wallpaper our world," but a surprisingly large chunk of it is avoidable, if you really try: Nobody forces us to watch TV or listen to commercial radio or order catalogues, etc.)

The net effect of this may be that the natural human tendency to want to keep up with the Joneses, is now turbocharged with a doctrinally-justified (albeit misconstrued) tie to righteousness: When a self-perceived Good Mormon sees his neighbors get the new car or the timeshare or whatever, he thinks, "Hey, I'M living righteously as well. Why hasn't the Lord 'blessed' me with X Y Z?" And that leads to all kind of funky behavior, like "Maybe it's because I lack faith that the blessings will come... So I'll demonstrate my faith by making the purchase [on credit]..." thereby artificially maintaining the appearance of the righteousness=prosperity link on my own, until the Lord "catches up" with all those yummy blessings I've earned, etc.

For a long time (we've slipped a bit recently), Utah led the nation in both bankruptcies and foreclosures per capita. The sunny side says, "Well, we have bigger families, lower wages relative to real estate costs, and systematically give 10% of our income to charity, so 'of course' there will be more financial stress." A closer look may reveal other factors at work.

Back to the issue of depression and suicide, which may in fact parallel the materialism thing. I've discussed this with several intelligent, "faithful" (much more faithful, middle-road, "iron rodded" than me) people, and my sense is that only the blithe and naïve among us see ZERO connection between these alarming statistics and long-standing, oft-promulgated ideals of "What a Good Mormon Is Like." It's especially taxing on the women, given stronger inclinations toward introspection and peer comparisons. Even though that message seems to have softened in recent years (although it rears itself occasionally, most notably, to my recollection, in the I-can't-believe-that-actually-made-it-through-committee "Perfect Daughters of God" (or whatever it was...that certainly came across as the gist of the message) talk five or so years ago, and the more recent "Mothers Who Know" address, which itself inspired an adamant and organized backlash among, well, Mormon Women, not all of whom, based on their even-handed statements, appear to be Priesthood-envying bra burners (one of the more thought-provoking posts is "She knows that she is just one fully-employed male away from poverty..."), the evidence suggests that its effects--on women who find themselves continually failing against a "be ye therefore the perfect mother, wife, cook, lover, teacher, preparedness expert, doctrinarian, gardener, optimist" standard--suggests that its effects linger--are devastating to the point of clinical depression and worse. (To say nothing of soaring cosmetic surgery instances along the Wasatch Front -- I read something a couple of years back that SLC's per capita concentration of plastic surgeons was surpassed by only by a couple of zips, and Beverly Hills was one of them. I think Holland addressed that recently...which probably made a fair share of GAs' wives squirm.) [Editor's note: Or maybe it's simply because there are too many husbands like me around!]

A naturally "faithful" response to the overwhelming correlative --although admittedly not rock-solidly causal-- signs that Something Is Definitely Wrong, is to say that "after all we can do," the Atonement will bridge the gap from where we are now to the ultimate expected ideal, which, of course, is to be "Even as I Am," and the Comforter will provide succor along the way. If so many people who believe that (Do they not "believe it" enough? not "practice it" enough?) are turning to drugs and suicide as a result of their own perceived failures to attain (or to be moving satisfactorily along the trajectory to attainment), there's a systemic breakdown somewhere along the way.

That's it for my soap box...and for my lunch hour, for that matter. Gotta get back to work so I can slip out a bit early to enjoy what remains of the 25" new Brighton's received in last 48 hrs.

-S

P.S. Unless I misread it, it seemed that the Yahoo! happiness article cited the results not of a study, but of a poll/survey. If that's the case, maybe it's not contradictory at all. Maybe it supports the idea that we feel like we need to put on a happy face (gospel + righteousness = joy) to the outside world, when in fact we're aching inside.

HBOh-No, Part I

Of course I need to chime in on the recent, controversial "Big Love" episode that reportedly depicted part of the endowment session. I didn't watch it - in fact, I've seen maybe six total minutes of the show, and didn't find it overly compelling. Anyway, it's tough to say this objectively given my mixed feelings about the temple (Have I written about those yet?), but even if I were an unconditional fan, I think my inclination would be to tag this as a non-event, for the following reasons:

1) I couldn't care less about what opinion HBO holds of my beliefs (OK, my semi-beliefs and traditions...or at least those of my forefathers), or whether others develop misdirected opinions as a result of consuming HBO's product. "But what about its impact on missionary work?" Well, if they're "honorable [people]...who were blinded by the craftiness" of Time Warner, won't they get a chance to accept and progress later?

2) Every last detail about the temple ceremony (including previous versions) is "Mormon temple ceremony" Google away. (It gets especially interesting on YouTube.)

3) The Church is growing. And we're glad about it. With size comes conspicuousness, which we also welcome. But we have to understand that we can't dictate the terms of that conspicuousness or control every unintended consequence. (Just ask the Catholics, who have taken no small beating at the hands of media and pop culture.) Can we seriously exult that "the sun never sets on congregations of the Latter-day Saints" while hoping to keep our secret and sacred matters in the dark?

Besides, isn't this fulfillment of prophecy? In a way, we should be glad it's happening, because it validates the teachings of yore.