Leagues...

My friend and I talked about this the other day over yummy food at the Cheesecake Factory. We were celebrating birthdays and discussing our totally separate and respective love lives and just relationships in general. In the course of chatting, I was prompted to bring up leagues. Dating leagues, that is.

They exist.

Despite all your arguing to the contrary, they exist. And I want all the females out there to know that I know they exist, and I get it.

My friend pondered why most guys tend to try to date out of their league. Any female who has attempted online dating (and I commend your bravery, sisters) knows what I'm talking about. I really don't know why this happens, but a hypothesis of mine says it has something to do with a subconscious, totally cultural and probably not intentional (oh, gosh, I hope it's not intentional), desire for men to show off their woman. "Heh heh. Look what I scored, losers. That's right, drool in envy, pantywaists."

This is why 50-year-old men constantly hit on 30-year-old (or younger! blech!) women, especially online, and it's ridiculous. They're playing out of their age league. Also ridiculous are the fat slobs and aesthetically challenged who expect the supermodels to flip head over heels for 'em. They're playing out of their looks league.

People need to stay in their league. Sure a crossover from the minors to the majors is bound to happen now and then, but that's an aberration of the social order, like a deer with six legs (google it) or the three-eyed fish on the Simpsons. It's wicked cool and everything, but it's blind luck when it happens. The same goes with league jumping: it's unpredictable.

Not to condemn myself too much, but I've been guilty of a bit of playing outside my league. I was probably pushing the boundaries with the ex-wife. She was 7 years younger than me (not an unheard-of age gap, but still...I initially felt a bit odd telling people how old we were.) Looks-wise, I'm sure more than a few people scratched their heads about how I managed to swing that one. I'm right there with you, kids.

My point, world, is that I've learned. I've grown. I know I'm not a major leaguer. I'm not looking for a 20-year-old runway model. I promise. I'd be super content with finding a nice, cute, attractive young woman ideally a little younger than me who doesn't necessarily have to turn anyone's head but mine.

Now, if the 20-year-old runway model happened to find me irresistibly attractive, through no fault of my own, and really wanted to have my babies...then, my friends...well...

The Historian...

The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova

My review

rating: 5 of 5 stars
Listen, this story is as good as it gets. No, it's not perfect, but it's close.

Yes, most of the story is told through letters...long, excruciatingly detailed letters that you and I and any person with a schedule would likely never write. That is this book's only achilles heel: this small deviation from plausability.

Other than that, this book is a jewel. I loved Kostova's prose, the way she describes things, personifies things. It was a lovely experience to read, and I've fallen even deeper in love with the Mediterranean.

The places and characters and events and sights and actions...when you close your eyes and think about them...are vivid, almost tangible, and I cherish that about any book.

The story is very compelling, too. A mysterious book bearing the name of Dracula sends curious scholars all over central Europe and the Mediterranean in search of more clues as to the final resting place of Vlad the Impaler. Along the way, they are met with vampires, gruesome history, and remarkable men and women...the kind of people with whom you'd want to spend weeks and weeks just talking and learning and enjoying history.

Yup, it gets the five stars. It's one of the rare books I'll read again sometime in the future.


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Rough Stone Rolling...

Joseph Smith: Rough Stone Rolling by Richard L. Bushman

My review

rating: 5 of 5 stars
I love Joseph Smith even more after finishing this book. He was a human being, with faults and flaws, who was called by God Himself to restore the fullness of the gospel of Jesus Christ.

Bushman's biography fairly and impartially shows Joseph to be the inspired man who brooked no dissent, who was paranoid about being executed in Missouri, who introduced the hard-to-fathom-let-alone-practice doctrine of plural marriage. I revere him as the first of the latter-day prophets here in our day and age.

Despite his mortal weaknesses, he was holy, called of God, and this book, so apt in its title, "Rough Stone Rolling", chronicling his translation of the Book of Mormon, his visions of former prophets restoring the keys of the priesthood, his organization and vision for the Church of Jesus Christ, has strengthened my knowledge that God calls imperfect men and women to do His work, and by heeding that call, these men and women become holy, refined, and worthy of the mantle they bear.


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Birfday at Church!!!

People, I'm a fortunate guy. One heckuva lucky son of a gun.

I had a great day at Church today...it was one of those, where everything you hear gets you thinking, makes you all introspective and stuff. People today spoke about testimony, the strength that comes in bearing it...the responsibility I have in sharing it, which is something I need to work on, a lot.

I had a great lesson on faith, how it motivates us to act, and I realized that faith is an amazing thing. Nothing binds us closer to God than faith. I mean, faith requires us to make this enormous commitment to something we can't tangibly prove, you know? I love that because it sounds crazy, why would you do something like that? Yet time and time again, I've been shown that faith works.

My priesthood class had us share examples of service that brought the spirit of Christmas to our hearts, and I remembered how my dad and I helped change the flat tire of two little old ladies in the Fry's parking lot last Christmas. No biggie, but man, that felt good helping out...and remembering that experience brings on the warm and fuzzies. Mmm! I love this season of the year!

Plus, today's my birthday, and I've had so many kind birthday wishes. I am truly, truly blessed. You, my friends and family, are a large part of what makes me happy to be alive...you're even, dare I say, the wind beneath my wings? Heh heh.

Eerie coincidence...

This week I've been in DC participating in the "Alan L. Freed Associates Public Policy Seminar on Terrorism and Transnational Crime". Check it out here.

However, that's not what I'm writing about today. Instead, check THIS out.

So, I'm up on Capitol Hill, right? Eating breakfast and lunch at the Capitol Hill Club. It's a trip, lemme tell ya. Being here is making me feel all kinds of legislate-y. The big issue while I'm here is the auto industry bailout, and that gets me all kinds of fired up because it's ridiculous. It's a finger-in-the-dyke approach to solving problems, and I find it (along with the financial bailout) to be absolutely repulsive to everything I believe in as an American. This news has me seething. The Senate is set to vote on the House proposal which would give a $14 billion loan to the auto industry so they can pay their union workers' wages.

Now, yesterday afternoon I decide, since I'm pretty close anyway (and I don't know what my proximity to the Capitol has to do with anything...maybe being here makes me more mindful of my duty as a citizen), I decide to call my senator's offices and, you know, give them an earful about how asinine this idea is. So I call, and I leave a message for Bob Bennett. Then I call, and Senator Hatch's intern/secretary whatever answers, which is surprising. This is a first. She listens to what I have to say, takes down my zip code (huh?), and I leave it at that.

There. I did my duty.

And then this happens.

Coincidence? Mmmmmmmmmm?

Yeah, all you power players, I'm setting up my own office on K street. Here I come, suckas!

Lest you think otherwise...

both my mom and my dad are full of their respective maternal and paternal spectacularness.

I'm probably not even completely aware of how much they love me and how much concern they feel for my well-being, even though they remind me in their own "when are you going to get married already?!?" kind of way. I'm sure that sentiment just scratches the surface of how much they want me to be happy.

I am grateful for them. I honor them. They are two of the kindest, most Christlike people I know, and I didn't want you to think I was mocking them when I wrote about Thanksgiving. I simply attempted to present the holiday family dynamic in a humorous way.

Thank you, Mom and Dad, for all you've done for your children, your grandchildren, your "adopted" children and many others. We all love you very, very much.

Werd.

Thanks?

All right! I made it!

I think anytime you meet your parents on your own turf, you feel it. This tension, this anxiety.

You want to show your mom and dad they didn't release into the world, after 18 years, a completely non-functioning excuse for a human being, right? Right.

Hence the tension. Hence the anxiety.

So, I think I did okay. Sure my kitchen was an absolute disaster that probably took an hour or two of life out of my mom due to embarrassment, but...BUT...I did get nice sheets for them to sleep on the airbed I got. Besides, I never have company, so the kitchen is a moot point. Forget I brought it up.

It was nice to have them visit, really. We got to hang out, eat with the ever generous and always entertaining Arnett family, and just be grateful for all our sundry blessings, together. The folks got to meet my friend Autumn (hi, Autumn!), who proceeded to work physiotherapeutic (I made that word up) wonders on my sweet mother so she wouldn't hurt as bad. Then, shortly after Autumn's departure, both parents prodded me to propose marriage.

Okay, perhaps that's an exaggeration. They just liked Autumn a lot.

I want you, world, to know that I take in stride all the loving, but firm and constant, encouragement to take the marital plunge. My mom says it's a matter of opening my heart, which, these days, I admit, is vigorously guarded against any possibility of a repeated passing through the metaphorical meat grinder.

This heart-opening event, when it occurs (and it will, I'm sure), will no doubt be like what Hillary Clinton describes here:



Anyway, I don't mean to digress from Thanksgiving. What am I thankful for? I'm thankful for my trials. This whole divorce mess/fiasco/disaster/catastrophe has a silver lining. A beautiful silver lining. It happened early in my marriage, thank heavens! I give credit to Amanda for being open and honest, even though it had to be difficult admitting she was done with me. It has...what would you call it? prompted me to rely on my Heavenly Father, and I KNOW, KNOW KNOW KNOW! that the power of the Atonement is real. And I don't think I would have felt that power any other way.

This year, most of all, I'm thankful for my relationships with my friends and family. After living a mostly independent and somewhat introverted life, I've come to understand how sweet and precious are the relationships I enjoy with the dear and loving people in my life. I'm grateful for all of you!

So, yeah, I made it. With a new ceiling fan and garbage disposal and area rug to boot! Thanks, Ma, Pa, and Steve! I'm glad you guys came to see me.