Bryce Moore's Blog, page 147

10 Year Maineiversary

10 years ago, I made a ton of life changes, all at once. We moved from Utah to Maine, to a place we’d never been before. We bought a house for the first time. I started my first time job. In hindsight, I really wonder if I was crazy, tackling all of that at the same time. What if the job hadn’t worked out? There I would be, stranded in Maine with no support network and a 30 year mortgage. What if we ended up not liking the area? Same situation. As I’ve been here for ten years, I’ve seen many people come to the area and leave for a variety of reasons.

We’re still here.

I’ve had my aunt and cousin staying with us the past two evenings, and my aunt asked me yesterday if we were happy here. And really, I have a hard time imagining a place that’s a better fit. The kids love it. Denisa loves it. I love it. Though “love it” is perhaps too simple a description. It’s the same sort of love you love your family with. There are aspects that frustrate you from time to time. Things you might wish were different. But in the end, you’re bonded somehow. It just feels right. I would be very happy if I never moved again in my life. If I stayed with my job and kept doing what I’m doing. True, there are times that I get antsy, but change comes around sooner or later, and it always makes me wish it hadn’t.

What do I love about Maine? I love the small town feel. The way I can run into friends anywhere I go, whether it’s at the movie theater or the grocery store or just walking around downtown. It’s more surprising when I don’t run into someone I know. That’s great. I love the winters, with a thick blanket of snow outside and my wood stove cranking out heat in the kitchen. I love going fishing on a lake that has no one else on it (in the winter or summer). I love blueberry season, and having a freezer full of them. I love the autumn, and the way the leaves smell on the ground. I love the walk I take into work each morning from the parking lot (I park across campus so I can get some extra walking in each day). I love watching movies on my new projection screen and playing games at my new game table. I love Groundhog Day parties with friends who don’t mind some eccentricity.  I love driving for miles and not seeing another car on the road.

Some Mainers will never let you forget you “come from away.” That you weren’t born here. (Or that your parents weren’t born here, as if the only way your opinion counts is if you trace your roots back to Maine at least as far as your grandparents.) But they’re in the minority, at least in my circle of friends. Instead, the people I know and spend a lot of time with have sort of all been drawn here from hours and hours away. It takes a certain sort of person to not just want to move to Maine, but to move to Western Maine. And it takes a sort of person to want to stay.

I think that sort of person is very close to the sort of person I like, which is probably a huge reason I love living here.

In any case, it’s been a great run so far. Hard to believe when we first came we just had Tomas. We’ve expanded the family and the house. I’ve switched jobs three times. I’ve become a published author. I’m a different person than I was when I moved here. Maine has definitely changed who I am.

Here’s to the next ten years, and many more to follow!

The School Budget: Where Do We Go From Here?

The school budget failed to pass another public vote, defeated this time by 139 votes (compared to a 184 vote loss the last time). It was quite close, though if you take a step back from the margins, it’s not quite as close as it seems. 2,719 votes were cast, so it lost by 5.1% of the vote. If you’re used to following national elections, you know 5.1% is close, but not really a nail biter. 7 of the 10 towns voted the budget down. The budget goes back to the drawing board, and the school board will need to come up with a proposal to be voted on. Again.

So what in the world should be done? I’ve been reading many of the local responses, and they’ve really ranged the spectrum. Some budget supporters have called for the budget to remain the same, going on the “try try again” model. Some budget opponents have staunchly claimed they’ll continue to vote down anything that increases the budget at all this year, regardless of what it does to property taxes. Some have called for the two sides to come together to work out a Great Compromise.

I have a few thoughts.

First, compromise is only really possible between two parties willing to sacrifice in the name of the greater good. I do believe the Yes side is ready and willing to put money on the table. I don’t believe the main proponents of the No side are ready to do this. Why not? A few reasons. First, they have consistently said they want the budget to go back to the same level it was this year, regardless of what actual increases have happened to legal obligations in the meantime. Second, they have repeatedly stated their belief that they’ll be able to vote any budget down that is an increase. Third, I have yet to see any real evidence that they’re willing to listen to logical arguments. (Honestly, in some instances, I don’t believe some of their main proponents are capable of listening at this point.)

So the thought of sitting down with the main No proponents and reaching some sort of understanding is, in my opinion, overly optimistic at best.

On the other hand, I also don’t believe we should dig in our heels and keep the budget where it was initially proposed. The argument here seems to be that the Yes voters just didn’t realize the vote was happening, or that they didn’t think they needed to vote, or that they were all on vacation, and that if given a second chance, they’ll turn out in droves. I just don’t see that happening. I’ve been as vocal as I can be, and I know many others who really pushed hard to get the message out about the importance of this vote. We were unsuccessful. At this point, unless there’s a new, fundamentally different way to reach voters, thinking “it’ll be better next time” is unrealistic.

Worse yet, I believe keeping the budget where it was proposed will significantly hurt our position in the debate. It would provide the No side with fodder to say “Look at how unreasonable the school board is being.”

So I believe the school board needs to make cuts. The voters have spoken twice. But if there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s someone sitting back calling for cuts without making suggestions as to what those cuts should be. So, as much as I don’t like to propose them, here is what I would take out of the budget.

First, we have to acknowledge some areas of the budget must increase. State law is pretty clear on what the district needs to do to meet special education requirements. Last year, Ed Tech positions were cut from the budget, something the No side had clamored for. But once the school year started, student need necessitated those positions being put back into place, meaning other areas of the budget had to be frozen or cut to accommodate the change. It makes no sense to me to make artificial cuts. Cuts that won’t last longer than a month or two.

So as much as the No side would like to see all budgets remain stagnant across the board, that just isn’t possible.

Instead of getting bogged down in a line by line study of every area of the budget, I’d start by having some overarching goals:

First, make it so that that tax burden on each town decreases across the board. So that there are no towns where it goes up. Perception is everything in this conversation, and this last round of voting, the Yes side had to continually offer qualifications. “No net rise in taxes” is far too confusing and weaselly sounding than “No tax increase. Period.” As soon as you need to provide qualifying remarks to clarify your position, you’ve lost the argument.
Second, affect student learning as little as possible. Have the educational experience students get next year be at least as good as the one they received this year. If that means the budget has to increase to get there, fine.
Third, remove wherever possible any arguments the No side can use against the budget.

With those two principles in mind, I would:

Eliminate the proposed social worker positions and revert the changes to the combined guidance counselor position. I understand the need. I wish we could fund them. But I also know I’d love to have a pool table in my living room. It would be a ton of fun. But I can’t afford it. This switch would save $186,000.
Go back to using the full voter-approved bond to cover capital projects, freeing up an additional $164,000 to reduce the burden on property taxes. (Yes, I anticipate the No side will object to this. But it’s a fight we don’t need to worry about. Voters already approved it. Why give up one hard fought battle that then makes it harder to win a new battle? The current “battleground” is property taxes. Not bonds. Reduce the property taxes.)
Remove the ASL teacher increase. I know it was added in by voters at the last meeting. But it just costs too much from a public perception standpoint. “Did you hear they even stuck in an ASL teacher position when the husband stood up and asked them to. Can you believe it?” Keeping that position in undercuts the ability of the board and the budget supporters to easily defend the budget. This saves $25,000.

That’s an “easy” $375,000 saved, and it accomplishes each one of the overarching goals. Honestly, I think that would probably win the vote this next go through (assuming the cuts are enough to make the first goal above a reality. I would assume it would be.) The state has pitched in extra money this year. Use it to bring this round of debates to an end. It’s high time the district had a budget. Be done with it.

But then start to plan for next year. Because I guarantee the No side will be. And so I have a few suggestions for next year:

Propose real cuts. Advocate for real cuts. Cuts that will be painful. Institute pay-to-play for sports. Look at the third grade violin program. Revisit the idea of outsourcing transportation. Discuss freezing teacher and administrator wages. I’m not talking about cutting things that will change everything. Rather, cutting things that will alarm parents and school supporters and get them to pay attention. Because clearly they are not alarmed by the current trend. We’re in this predicament because No voters are far more upset by the increases than Yes voters are upset by the cuts. I remember when the Board proposed outsourcing transportation in an effort to cut costs. I remember how many people poured out to protest. We need more people engaged in this conversation. It affects the entire community. The entire community should be paying attention.
Once people are awake and paying attention, outline the issue for them. Tell them, “The budget continues to not pass. We saw this as an indication that the community wants further cuts. If that isn’t the case, then vote for a budget that you want, and then get people to come out and vote to pass it.”
If there is no vocal outcry from parents or the community, then perhaps these sacred cows aren’t so sacred. If that’s the case, then the cuts can go through. If they go through, then the No side has lost all leverage. Either way, my thinking is it would bring this contention to a close. The reason we have votes is to decide the will of the people. Right now, the No side can rightfully claim it has more supporters than the Yes side. So give them what they’re looking for, or else get the Yes side to actually come together and drown out the Nos.

Again, I’m a school supporter. I’m incredibly grateful for our School Board and all that they do to help our district. It’s a hard, thankless task. I’m also very grateful to my fellow allies who have been advocating so strongly for the budget to pass. I know we’ve had the pedal to the metal. There just haven’t been enough horses in the engine to get to the finish line first. I accept that. I’m not going to accept personal responsibility for the loss, however. You try your hardest, and it is what it is.

More people need to get involved and get motivated. Actual cuts could make that happen. That said, I’m an open-minded person. If someone has a better idea or suggestions on how to better deal with this, please speak up. I’m ready to help.

Revising on a Deadline

I love to write. I love it more than I like to revise, though I don’d mind revising that much. But when you’re writing new material, it’s so freeing. It’s so easy to see the progress you’re making. To know you’ve Accomplished Something. That’s harder to track with revisions.

But writing itself? Love it.

Of course, I also love chocolate cake. If left to my own devices, I would happily eat a slice of the darkest chocolate cake you can imagine, every day. Maybe with some milk or ice cream? Oh yeah. One slice each day is perfect.

However, the thought of having two or three slices of chocolate cake each day? Not as appealing. I’d probably decline the offer. “I’m good with one, thanks.”

Writing and revising on a deadline is like that. I love to write. But to force myself to write more or revise more each day is a struggle, I’m finding. Not that I can’t do it, but that it’s not as enjoyable. Each day, I know I’ve got more of that chocolate cake to eat. And not just a bit. A lot. And so I have to push myself to do it.

Which is to say I have little time right now. You’re on your own, folks. See you Monday.

A Few Remarks on Immigration

I’ve been writing lots of long posts the last few days, and I’m about long-posted out. But then I come across news stories like this one, detailing how Trump and other Republicans are pushing for a bill to drastically cut back on legal immigration to this country. In a nutshell, the plan is to put up some requirements to allow someone to come to this country on a path to citizenship. They’d be rated for their job skills, ability to speak English, and their level of education. The importance of family ties to current citizens (something which is now a big avenue to citizenship) would be reduced.

This morning on my way into work, I listened to the senator sponsoring the bill talk about why it was important. America, he claimed, had too many low educated immigrants flooding into the country, taking jobs from hard working lower class citizens and driving wages down for everyone. So they’re hoping to cut the flow of immigrants in half, and ensure the ones coming into the country are educated, English speakers who will, essentially, add to the country instead of take away from it. Be an asset instead of a liability.

Honestly, I find such rhetoric disgusting, and it’s being used consistently by Trump and his minions to try and demonize immigrants the same way it’s been used by despots in the past. It plays upon the need to target someone different than most people and blame that someone (or someones) for as many problems facing voters as possible. Some politicians would have you believe immigrants were the main cause of unemployment, crime, our failing health care system, and more. That “America” would be so great if not for all “those people” holding it back.

The sad thing is, the rhetoric works. It works because people don’t personally know many immigrants. (Or if they do, they don’t recognize that they do.) Instead, they listen to politicians who describe “those people:” they speak no English. Came here illegally. Deal drugs. Corrupt “our children.” Pay no taxes. Leech off the system. You could play “immigrant hate BINGO” during these speeches. And because people don’t know immigrants well, they believe the speeches. After all, isn’t it easier to think all your problems are someone else’s fault? Isn’t more attractive to think you’d be doing swell if it weren’t for that group of people who has taken the job you could have had? It’s not your fault. It’s theirs.

But I have had many conversations with actual immigrants. Immigrants who are trying to learn English. Immigrants who are fluent. Immigrants with great jobs. Immigrants with jobs that hardly pay anything, They come here for a plethora of reasons. Each has his or her own story. But one thing I noticed in all my dealings with immigrants?

They’re hard workers. They’ve struggled and fought to do something that is far from easy. Come to another country, learn its ways, and try to succeed? That’s tough stuff. I remember speaking to one man who had come to the US from South America. At home, he had been a doctor. Here, he was a janitor. He wasn’t planning on staying a janitor, though. He was learning English so he could help his family establish themselves here. Why did he move? Because he thought he could make a better life for his family in America. The same reason most people came here from overseas a century or two or three ago.

Almost all of us are descended from immigrants these days. It’s just our ancestors got here before people turned off the Vacancy sign. Some would have us believe that our ancestors came here for “the right” reasons. That the immigrants in the 1800′s were somehow different or better than the immigrants of today. Don’t fall for that trap. Don’t let small minded people stop this country from being the beacon of hope it’s been since its founding.

One of the biggest lessons to me about immigration and the Other came while I was a missionary in Germany. For two years, I was the Other. I struggled to speak fluently at first. I felt like an idiot. I was still the same person I’d been before I went to Germany, but that language barrier was real. It made me easier to look down on. Easier to dismiss. Once I had the language mastered, it all became so much easier. I don’t dismiss people because they can’t speak English, because I know your language has no real bearing on who you are as a person.

The next time you hear someone on TV blithely blaming your problems on an entire group, recognize that for what it is. Garbage. We made our own problems, thank you very much. We’re the ones who need to fix them. And we won’t fix them by turning away the motivated, hard working people ready to come here and pitch in. Not because they want to mooch off our system, but because they want to be part of us. They want to contribute. And just because they don’t speak English or have a degree today doesn’t mean they won’t be fluent and well-educated tomorrow.

I hope this legislation is stopped in its tracks.

Adding a Bit of Common Sense to the School Budget Rhetoric

I’m a vocal supporter of the school budget. I’ve blogged about it many times. I’m also a bit of a numbers geek and a card carrying librarian, meaning I love me some research. And the other day, a question suddenly struck me. The school budget detractors keep claiming the school budget is decimating our communities. That people just can’t afford to live here anymore. At the last school budget meeting, it was claimed that the Yes voters were going to force people out of their homes. That the elderly on social security wouldn’t be able to afford their taxes anymore. When you drive into town right now, a series of roadside posters claim “It takes a school to bankrupt 10 villages.”

Their argument is clear: people in the district are being taxed through the nose, and it’s all the school budget’s fault.

To date, I’ve been accepting their argument at face value, countering with any number of reasons for why the school budget needs to be what it is. I’ve felt badly for the people who this is putting a crunch on, but I’ve also felt like compromises must be made. Lesser of two evils. Eggs and omelets. Insert your favorite justification idiom here.

But the question that struck me was, “Just how much is this budget really hurting people in the area?” Had I been too cold? Dismissed their claims too lightly? I wanted to actually find out what taxes are looking like. What they’ve done historically. And lucky me, I’m a librarian. Research is my thing.

First up: what has the school budget really done the past decade or so? I tried to nose around to find this information easily online, but in the end I revved up the ol’ microfilm machine and consulted the local newspaper. On June 10, 2005, voters overwhelmingly approved a budget of $21,884,104. The current budget up for a vote (tomorrow!) is $33,929,507, an increase of 12 million and change, or about 55% up over the last 12 years. Yikes! There might be something to this catastrophe claim, after all.

Why has the budget gone up that much? 55% in 12 years means it’s gone up around 3.5% a year on average. That seems pretty steep. But let’s not forget inflation. Money doesn’t buy what it used to, even 12 years ago. Checking out the inflation rates for the past 12 years and applying them to that initial $21.9 million budget in 2005, and we see that it equals $27.8 million in today’s dollars. I don’t think anyone can reasonably blame the school board for causing national inflation, so let’s let them off the hook for that. Still, even accounting for inflation, the budget is up $6.1 million in the last 12 years. $500,000/year! Almost 28%. Crunching the numbers, it’s a bit more than 2%/year increase.

Now, there are many different reasons the school budget has gone up that much in the past twelve years. Computers and technology are changing the classroom and the way we learn. The internet has become vital, and access to it (and all the hardware and software that entails) is required for people to be able to function in today’s society. Special education and the way we meet the needs of disadvantaged students has changed. Teacher wages have increased.

But let’s throw all that out the window. For the sake of argument, let’s assume all increases not caused by inflation were wasteful, frivolous increases. Our children had a good education in 2005. Why can’t they have a good education in 2017 for the exact amount of money? (The argument many on the No side have put forward, though they refuse to account for the price of inflation on a year to year basis.) The school board is bankrupting our citizens! Grab the pitchforks! Somebody get some tar and a few chickens.

Wait. Maybe we should check some more numbers first.

I wanted to see what sort of an impact local taxes have had on individuals over the same period of time. Luckily, we have websites with that sort of data these days. Over at Maine’s government page, we can see that the mill rate for Franklin County has gone up from 11.49 in 2005 to 19.44 in 2015. They haven’t released data for 2016 and 2017 yet. However, we can check local towns for that. In 2005, Farmington’s mill rate was 14.03. According to the Morning Sentinel, it was 19.28 for 2017. What does that translate to in terms of actual money? Someone with a home assessed at $150,000 would have paid $2,104.50 in 2005. Today, they’d pay $2,892.

Assume for a moment that my current mill rate was off. That the Morning Sentinel wasn’t reporting things quite on. Let’s say the mill rate increased at the same rate it had from 2005-2015 (about 3.3%/year). In that case, 2017′s number would be 20.74. The same homeowner would be paying $3,111. That’s $1,000 more than they paid in 2005. $1,000 more! Every month! The humanity! Those money grubbing school board voting . . .

Hold on. That’s not $1,000 more each month. That’s $1,000 more each year. Spread out over 12 years. That means it’s gone up $83 more each year. An $83 increase in a year means people pay a bit less than $7 each month. And remember, this is blaming 100% of that increase on the school budget, something which just isn’t accurate. Some of it’s from inflation. Some of it’s from rising costs for other town functions like the police or the library.

But what about the elderly living solely off Social Security? In 2006, Social Security paid $1,044 on average each month. In 2015, it paid $1,332. $288 more per month, increased over 9 years. That’s 27.6% more. About 3% more each year. Granted, that’s 0.3% less than the school budget has gone up, but . . . I’m still not seeing it. (Again, this is on average. Some years, that benefit would have gone up more. Some years, less. But the same is true for school budget increases.)

Looking at all the property taxes people pay in Farmington (using it as a sample to represent the whole), property owners paid $2,170 in 2016 on average. So in the catastrophic 3.5% increase that the No side keeps holding up as the End of Times for the poor people of this fine school district, that would equate to $76 more paid in a year. $6.33 each month.

That’s what this is all about. All the sound and fury ends up signifying $6.33/month. Not even that: this year, taxes aren’t going up on average (not from the school budget increase, at least.) So all the doom and gloom signs you see plastered across the roads? It’s just words. Just rhetoric. Just people who don’t feel like paying more money in taxes. They’ve picked the school budget as their target. They’re pinning countless evils on it.

Because they don’t want to pay $6.33 more each month.

Am I simplifying things some? Sure. (So are they.) I’m sure there are individual cases where people’s taxes shot up more. I know some of that will be due to property values being reassessed. (Note: not the school board’s fault.) There will be plenty of special cases that could be used to try and make this seem worse than it is. But going just from the numbers?

The argument doesn’t hold more water than a thimble.

I’m voting to approve the school budget tomorrow, and I encourage you all to do the same. And the next time someone makes a catastrophic claim at a school budget meeting, I’m going to ask to see the data to back it up. The school board provides volumes of data to justify its expenses. I’d like to see the same coming from people who argue against it. I’ve tried to point to sources in this article. I’m open to criticism, but I want sources to back that criticism up. No anecdotal evidence, please. I don’t see it as being relevant to the discussion.

Oh Say, What is Truth?

I came across an article today that talks about some of the struggles Mormons are having as they wrestle with the way the church has portrayed its history for decades with the way that history actually looks when you return to the historical documents. Richard Bushman, noted LDS historian (and a former Bishop, Stake President, and Patriarch in the church) was quoted as saying that the “dominant narrative” of the church’s history isn’t true. It’s not sustainable.

And of course, some freaked out about the statement, trying to portray it as meaning that Bushman no longer believed the church was true. That it was all based on lies. But when cooler heads stepped in (Bushman himself, for one), it became clear the statement was part of a broader discussion, and that he was simply expressing the same sentiment many have already had about church history, myself included.

Basically, it’s this: history is complicated because life is complicated. We want to find narratives in life. Stories with a neat beginning, middle, and end. We want to reduce people down to archetypes. Heroes or villains. Good guys or bad guys. We want motivations to be clean cut. And the more we live in a society dominated by popular culture (via novels, movies, and television), the more we’ll want that history cut and dried and static.

For many people, history doesn’t happen until it’s been churned through Hollywood and they see it on the big screen. I’m reminded of this lovely clip from  Ocean’s Eleven, where instead of watching the actual event (a building being destroyed), the character watches the news coverage of that event, despite the fact that if he only turned around, he could see the real thing.

This, in turn, reminds me of Plato’s Allegory of the Cave, where someone who’s been out into the real world and seen all its wonders is forced to come back and try to describe those wonders to people who only experience that world through shadows cast upon a cave wall.

Real life is the real world. History is a shadow on a cave wall. No matter how much we want to be able to recreate that history and know exactly what happened, we can’t. It’s gone. Even film doesn’t manage to capture it. (Just look at the debates over the filming of Kennedy’s assassination, or the Twin Towers’ destruction, or the moon landing.) And even when film is fairly reliable, it’s still seen through a lens. Still filtered and edited and interpreted. Still just a single vantage point of a set moment in time.

But despite these limitations, people still clamor for the truth. In the church’s case, they dealt with that by constructing a narrative. A sequence of events focused on how the church came into existence, from Joseph Smith’s First Vision to the translation of the Book of Mormon to the trek West to the present day. And here’s where (I believe) the church made its real mistake: it presented that narrative as fact. As 100% true.

Let me amend that statement. Judging from some of the articles written by the church and published by the church over the years, there has been some effort to portray history more accurately. But the way church members received that history was bleached. Cut and dry. Probably due to two big characteristics of the church itself.

First, we’re run by members. Sunday School is taught by people who have no formal training other than (typically) having sat through many lessons on those topics before. This means that we excel in passing down the same message from one generation to the next. Worse yet, we’re sometimes discouraged from looking anywhere other than those pre-approved messages and lessons. For years, I believe that was out of concern that people would stumble across lies and take those lies for fact. But whatever the motivation, if you repeat a story often enough, it becomes ingrained. Age lends it credence. It becomes true because it is old.

Second, many in the church like to stress how they don’t just believe things. They know things. They know the church is true. They know Joseph Smith was a prophet. They know any number of things. And if they just say they “believe” those things, then others in the church look down on them. They question just how strong their faith is. And so we have a tendency to jump straight to “know” when maybe we’d be better off sticking with “believe.”

Because these two tendencies combine into a dangerous mixture where we “know” the church history we have been presented over the years is true, by very fact that it’s the history we were presented. People then continue to build their testimony, using these “known” facts as major support structures for that virtual building. And so when actual history rears its head and presents a version different from the “known” narrative, the whole structure can be put in danger. “If this isn’t true, what else might not be true?” Sometimes, the testimony comes crumbling down as quickly as that hotel in the Ocean’s Eleven clip.

In the article I first linked to, Bushman is quoted, wondering “why some people are thrown for a loop when they learn church history did not occur as they had been taught in Sunday School, while others roll with the punches.” I believe a large portion of that is explained by that conflation of belief and knowledge, and the insistence some have of being certain, though this is just conjecture on my part.

I can only speak for myself. Personally, I like to stick to belief and shy away from knowledge except in cases where it’s totally accurate. Thus, I know that living the Gospel has brought me happiness. I believe it is true.

Faith, for me, needs to be flexible. It needs to be able to adapt, and why shouldn’t it? It’s a basic premise of this religion that it is growing “line upon line, precept upon precept.” But I think sometimes we want to believe all that growing happened before we came into the church, and that it’s fully grown now. So when more growing pains happen, it can be upsetting. However, who can really say what the church is growing up to be? Who knows what the ultimate form of that church will be? In other words, how are we ever to known when it’s full grown and finished? I personally don’t believe it ever will be. Not in my lifetime, at least.

And so as things change, I accept them. I realize that this church is run by humans, and that those humans have plenty of flaws. So it doesn’t throw me for a loop when I find out a church leader did or said something foolish or wrong in the past. Why? Because, in some small extent, I have been one of the people leading that church on a local level. I know how many flaws I have, and how some of my well-intended actions have proven to be problematic in the long run.

Again, some want to believe that at a certain level of church leadership, the heavens are opened, and things are literally run by Christ. That He steps in and sits down to talk with the Apostles or the First Presidency or at the very least the Prophet. But my faith has never rested on that. I believe the church is run by imperfection, all the way up. Not that the leaders are bad people, or disingenuous, but that they’re subject to the same flaws all of us are, from great people down to regular folks.

We want miraculous. Elder Holland quoted a long story last month, telling future mission presidents of an amazing account of a missionary finding his long lost brother and bringing him back to the church. It was in turn quoted in my Sacrament Meeting this Sunday. And now it has come to light that the story is not true. Parts of it are, but key portions were embellished by a member in that family. Does this instance invalidate other miraculous stories? No. I have personally seen and experienced the miraculous, and I’m confident there are many such true stories out there, though they might not be shared too often. (I share mine rarely, if at all. Not because I don’t want people to know, but because they’re special to me.)

We want the Gospel and its history to be as straightforward and unchanging as addition. 2 + 2 = 4. But it’s not. Stories change. New evidence comes to light that gives more understanding of past events. I believe members who are too insistent on living in a black and white world do themselves a disservice. The further you edge into black and white, the closer you get to fanaticism in my book, and some of the worst atrocities in history have been done under that banner.

And so I keep my flexible outlook. I roll with the punches as they come up in church history and practice. My faith has the ability to look at the church and wonder which of its current practices are wrong, because I know some of its past practices have proven to be wrong. I know some inside the church who view me skeptically. Who might even claim I’m borderline apostate. But I know from experience that the line between apostate and faithful member is a line that shifts drastically from side to side, depending on the person drawing it and their personal views. I know some outside the church who also view me skeptically. Who wonder why in the world I stay in it, or how I can believe such fantastical things and express that belief with a straight face. But the line between faith and the fantastic is similarly swerved.

I believe it’s true because of the first hand experiences I’ve had with the church and the gospel. But I also believe what is “true” today might not be so simple tomorrow. Not necessarily out of malice or some evil designs, but just because truth is thorny. If truth had a profile page, its relationship status would be “it’s complicated.” No matter how we might wish it were otherwise.

In Which I Drive into My Own Car with a Lawn Tractor

This post is pretty much just what it says in the title. Yours truly, Genius Driver Extraordinaire, drove into his car Saturday with a new (to us) lawn tractor. Why? Because I’m an idiot. But we already knew that, and you want the juicy details, so here you go.

Thanks to the generosity of a friend blessed with a long memory, we were given a lawn tractor last week. I was really looking forward to cutting down on lawn mowing times. Saturday, I finally had time to take a look at it. It needs some work (new battery, new tires, there’s something up with the way the blades engage, and it looks like the gas tank might need to be switched out. We’re having it looked at.) But I wanted to actually mow the lawn, so I jump started the battery and hooked up the air compressor I have for my car tires. All was going well. My car’s hood was open and door was open as I got the tractor ready to go.

Once all was looking good, I unhooked the tractor and started it up. No problems. Then I decided to drive it off to another corner of my driveway so I could get my Civic back in order. That’s where things went wrong.

My old lawn tractor used a pedal to control its acceleration. This new one has a hand lever you set. So if you want it going faster, you move the hand lever to the speed you want it to be, then leave it there. You can still put on the brakes when you need them, but as soon as you release the brakes, it’s as if your foot was on the gas pedal.

I released the brakes. The tractor roared into motion, eager to slice down any grass in the vicinity. Unfortunately, there was no grass.

Only my Civic and its invitingly open driver-side door.

Time slows down in moments like that. You can see something idiotic is about to happen. You wish you had made different choices. You regret any number of things. But there’s just no getting around the Yuck that’s about to happen.

I panicked. All knowledge of basic vehicle operation fled from my head. I couldn’t have stopped a brick at that moment. The tractor pushed into my car door and proceeded to bend it backward. I came to my senses, sitting up off the seat of the lawn tractor, which activated the kill switch, but the damage had been done.

Sigh.

It’s not a huge dent in the door. Just a slight crease. But the door itself won’t shut, which I’ve been told is a bad thing when you’re driving at freeway speeds. Denisa took it to our mechanic this morning, who recommended a body shop. I’m thinking hundreds of dollars, which wasn’t high on my list of Things I Wanted to Spend My Money On. Between tuning up the lawn tractor and fixing my car door, I might have been able to just buy a new lawn tractor.

However, hindsight is always something something, and I’m pleased to at least report that once my lawn tractor had terrorized my Civic, it went on to cut my lawn with the greatest of ease. No one was injured. which is a good thing. And it’s only money, right?

But note to self: next time I drive an unfamiliar vehicle for the first time, maybe I should do it far away from anything expensive. Out in a wide open area. Like the middle of my lawn.

 

On the Obamacare Repeal

I’ve been quiet on politics for the last while. (Well, politics that don’t directly involve Trump.) But with the Senate doing its Senate thing for the past few days and all the drama surrounding it, I decided I might as well chime in with an update on where I stand with the whole mess.

Because healthcare is still a mess in this country. No doubt about it. Talk to ten different people, and you’re going to get ten different opinions about our system. I know people who are really upset by the spike in health insurance prices. They feel like the current direction is unsustainable. On the flip side, I know people who sing Obamacare’s praises. They weren’t able to get insurance at all before it was enacted, and the thought of it being repealed is seriously upsetting to them.

I personally am relieved the Senate vote failed. I’ve admired Senator Collins for the principled stand she’s been taking, and I’ve been proud she represents me in the Senate. Likewise, I’m thankful to Senators Murkowski and McCain. While McCain deserves recognition for casting the deciding vote, it shouldn’t be forgotten that Collins and Murkowski made that possible by staunchly voting against the repeal all along.

Why am I relieved the vote failed? Because I feel like the Republicans aren’t focused on actually making a good replacement. They’re focused on saving face. On being able to say “We repealed Obamacare!” simply because that’s what they’ve somehow decided is most important to people.

The thing is, most people I talk to agree that our healthcare system is a mess. But they also agree that the healthcare system before Obamacare was a mess. I don’t believe these are the two options for healthcare in our country: either the mess we have now or the mess we had before. So repealing Obamacare without an actual plan in place to fix the mess is just a bad idea.

I liked the reasoning McCain gave for his vote that stopped this in its tracks: he wants a return to the time when both sides came together and made bills that were a compromise. I feel like this is the answer to the political quagmire we’re stuck in. We need politicians who are ready and willing to listen across the aisle and come up with something that’s not 100% exactly what their base wants, but gets enough to keep people happy. Right now, it’s like both sides have just dug in and said they’re only going to do what their side wants to do, and fight tooth and nail against anything coming from the other side.

That’s why I respect the three Senators who stopped this. They saw a bad thing and weren’t afraid to vote publicly against it.

I don’t know what the solution is. I know it’s not to wash your hands and “let Obamacare implode.” These are people’s lives at stake. It’s not the time to pack your game up and take it home because you couldn’t win. I hope that’s the lesson learned here, but I doubt it will be.

I wish someone would come up with a bill that split the difference. That we started to improve Obamacare. Build on the things it did well, and fix the things it didn’t.

But maybe I’m just dreaming.

Buying Time

I came across an article today that talks about how much happier people can be if they use their money to buy time instead of things. In other words, pay other people to do things you don’t want to do yourself, which frees up your time to do the things you’d rather do. I’d never really thought about this in those terms, but I can definitely see the appeal, and I think it’s something I’ve started to do more and more often.

Take home construction projects. For the first long while at my house, I focused on trying to do these projects myself. My basic thought was that if I could do them alone or with help, then I should do them. After all, think of the money I was saving! Except as time went on, I realized that by doing the projects myself, I was making life miserable for me. I was way too busy in the fall, I was stressed about doing things the wrong way, and I was ending up with results which weren’t as good as they could have been if I paid to have the job done.

This isn’t to say this is always ideal. There are certainly cases where you wish you could pay someone else to do something, but you just can’t afford it. If you have to choose between renovating your house on your own, or not renovating it at all, it comes down to a question of how badly you want it renovated. For me, this article simply brought into focus the concept that time is something you can pay for as well.

All of us make a certain amount of money. It’s different for everyone, but it’s often a constant for each individual case. You make $40,000/year, or $30,000, or $70,000. Whatever it is, that’s your entire budget. Up until now, I’ve thought about what I can buy with that money in terms of experiences or things. I can buy stuff like vacations or trips to the movies or piano lessons, or I can buy stuff like televisions or books or video games. But now I recognize I can also buy time. Pay other people to do things I don’t really want to do. But even writing that statement makes me cringe. There’s this deep-seated idea that if I can do something on my own, I should.

I think I need to get past that. Not that I want to start paying my way out of chores left and right, but how we choose to allot the funds available to us is up to us. I have a limited amount of time and money. If I spend one resource to free up another, that’s a perfectly fine choice to make. If, for example, it would cost me $50/week to have someone come clean the house, that’s $2,600/year. That seems like a lot of money, but I could choose to cut out a renovation project, and suddenly I can afford the house cleaning. But maybe that’s out of my price range. What if I had someone come once a month to clean the house at that rate? Now we’re down to $600. That’s how much I saved when I cut out satellite television. So it becomes a choice: satellite TV or monthly house cleaning.

It all comes down to how we value our time and money. I think I need to get over the knee-jerk response of “we can do that ourselves” to see if there are other areas where I’d prefer more time over more money. Just food for thought this Thursday . . .

Voting, Board Game Theory, and That Guy

I’ve talked about “That Guy” in the past. In one of my most popular posts (written to Democrats and Republicans in the aftermath of the 2012 election), I cautioned against being “That Guy.”:

Finally, don’t–DON’T–decide to be That Guy. You know the one I’m talking about. The one who loses, and so decides he’s going to screw over everyone else playing the game as best he can. He doesn’t care if the entire game gets ruined. He will have his revenge! Because that guy? He’s kind of a tool, and nobody likes him. So don’t do that.

If you’ve played board games regularly, I almost guarantee you’ve played against That Guy. Chances are, you’ve even been That Guy a time or two. It happens when you become so fixated on the game that you lose sight of other things in life. Things like courtesy and basic human dignity. Instead, you feel like you’ve been wronged, and you will do EVERYTHING IN YOUR POWER (however limited it might be) to get revenge.

Captain Ahab was That Guy.

The Ukrainian in Seinfeld was That Guy in his most destructive form.

Last night, That Guy showed up to the school board meeting in force. (Well, for values of “force” smaller than 30 people.)

In a way, they planned to do the same thing the Democrats are currently trying to do in the Senate: use as many delaying techniques as possible to stop the Health Care Bill in its tracks. Except in the Senate, it’s a bunch of career politicians doing to each other the thing that career politicians do. In a school board meeting to set the budget, it’s regular town people being obnoxious to other regular town people.

It was clear early on what the plan was. The “No” side had gotten together ahead of time to plan out their approach. They would call for a written ballot on each and every vote. (Written ballots involve everyone in the room going up the ballot boxes and putting in a Yes or No slip of paper. They take quite a bit of time (maybe 5-10 minutes each vote).) They would make a motion to amend each article at least twice, first to reduce that article’s budget to the level it was last year, and then (if that amendment was voted down) to reduce it to half the asked-for increase (effectively splitting the difference from last year’s budget and the proposed budget.)

At the last meeting, it had been established that if 10% of the attendees wanted a written vote, then we would have a written vote. And so the “No” side used that knowledge to figure out how best to slow things down. If they could get enough of the “Yes” side to get tired of it all and go home, then maybe they’d could push through a budget they wanted, instead. (They were far from pleased when a motion was made after a while to change the number needed to call for a written vote to a simple majority (the Roberts Rules of Order standard).) But even more disheartening was the way they continually tried to label the “Yes” side, casting aspersions on their motivations. Once again, their arguments were pretty blatant:

People voting Yes are school shills. Teachers and employees who just show up to vote themselves raises. One person even went as far as to question whether the volunteers collecting ballots were manipulating the results, paid by the schools. Never mind the fact that it’s been repeatedly shown only residents are voting. If a teacher happens to live in the district, what is he or she supposed to do? Not vote? They pay taxes the same as the rest of the citizens.
People voting Yes are uncaring, ready and willing to turn old people out of their homes so that they can continue spending frivolously on the school budget. And yet the budget we were voting on last night represented a 0% increase to property taxes. “But what if state funding goes down next year?” they would ask. “Then we’re stuck with these higher budget figures.” To which I shake my head and throw my hands up. We just lived through the Great Recession. Budgets shrunk. The school board figured it out. Honestly, I would give this “think of the poor people” argument more merit if it were made across the board, at each meeting where local budgets were set. And yet just months ago when the town voted to raise budgets for town offices in significant areas, no one showed up to clamor for it not to increase. Instead, we have this group fixated on the school budget, trying to use any excuse they can to stop it from increasing.
People voting Yes are trying to illegally manipulate the system to get their way. Hello, Kettle? Pot calling here.

The “Yes” side was warned and threatened repeatedly last night. Told “you don’t want to kick the hornet nest, because you won’t like what comes out.” Called unreasonable because we weren’t willing to simply set the budget at the amount it was last year. (And never mind changes to student population, special education requirements, wear and tear on buildings, cost of living raises for employees, health care benefits changes, and the hundred other changes that happen in a year to any large organization.)

In the end, it took three hours to set the budget. Three hours where 115 of the 140 people in the room agreed with what they wanted. It’s a convoluted, dizzying process that I’m convinced hardly anyone in that room really understood. I think the process itself needs to change. Not because I want to ramrod through an agenda, but because there has to be a more streamlined way to get this done. 140 people spending three hours of time? That’s the equivalent of 420 hours of work. Imagine what we could get done if we all chose to spend that 420 hours on something actually useful, like building houses for the poor or cleaning up public parks or the school buildings? I don’t know what we’d have to do to change it, but I’m all for it. Last night was like playing Monopoly. And not the fun part, either. Not the part where you’re going around the board, trying to buy properties and negotiate deals. No, this was Monopoly where one person has gotten all the hotels, and it’s clear they’re going to win, but the loser has become That Guy, stating he’s going to stay in this until he’s 100% bankrupt. And so you roll the dice over and over and over and over, and everyone begins to wonder why in the world they thought this was a good idea in the first place.

Except That Guy. He’s pleased as punch he’s become such a pain in the rear. Because if he can’t win, he might as well feed off spite.

So in conclusion, I’ve given up on respecting some members of the “No” side. They showed their true colors, and those colors were disappointing to say the least. They became That Guy, and I’ve played too many board games to be taken in by That Guy. Once someone sinks to the level of That Guy, there’s no playing with them any more. They have lost all connection to reason. You might as well go to the Argument Clinic. You’d have a better shot at having a rational discussion.

What’s the solution? To be loud, vocal, respectful supporters of the school budget. To put up signs. Write editorials. Talk to neighbors. To stress a simple message: the budget is reasonable. Taxes are not increasing this year because of it. They didn’t increase last year. And to make sure the “No” side has no fodder to use against you. Don’t steal their signs. Don’t engage in petty arguments. Don’t call them names. Ignore them. Stick to your message.

When That Guy starts playing your game, you get rid of him with kindness. He’s trying to change the rules. To make it about feelings and frustration. Just keep rolling those dice, and keep on smiling. Once you start playing by his rules, everyone loses.