Bryce Moore's Blog, page 213

Our Country is Facing a Crisis, Friends

Don’t you love the word “friends”? It adds emphasis and gravitas to just about any situation. Compare, “We’re out of toilet paper,” which seems like a banal observation, to “We’re out of toilet paper, friends.” Suddenly, you know you’re facing a life changing moment of immense importance. Stuff just got real, folks. (Folks is another word like “friends.”)

In any case, my confrontation with the harsh realities of our time came–as most confrontations of this sort do these days–during a recent visit to Walmart. Denisa and I have been on the busy side lately, and so I went shopping with her when it looked like the odds of us having time to go on an actual date were slim to none. So there we were, blithely going about our business, when suddenly it hit me. Full on. No notice whatsoever. One second I’m looking at the dairy section, and the next second:

An entire display of eggnog.

We’re not talking a few cartons. We’re talking enough eggnog to supply Santa Claus’s Christmas Eve party. Enough eggnog to go hot-tubbing in. Enough eggnog to drown Homer Simpson.

Mass quantities of eggnog.

Now, those who know me know I like to partake of the nog each year. It’s something I look forward to. I like my eggnog the way I like my bacon: chewy, and with a pleasant aftertaste that stays with you hours later. My inaugural eggnog purchase each year has been a perpetual time of celebration for my stomach and mourning for my arteries.

But friends, I think we can all agree that the sheer raw power eggnog presents to the world is something that needs to be contained and tightly controlled. It’s a force that must only be harnessed for good, and even then it’s something that needs to be imbibed only starting with the ramp up to Thanksgiving and finishing in the bleak January days after New Years.

This was October, people. Oc-freaking-tober. The witches aren’t just not even off their brooms yet–they haven’t even opened the closet to dust those brooms off.

What I’m saying is that our society works on a calendar. It’s a fine-tuned system that’s been developed over the ages to ensure we maintain peak sugary efficiency. You’ve got your October, which is designed for candy consumption. This blends into November and your turkey and stuffing, then back to sweets in Christmas before one last huzzah of culinary festivities on New Years Eve–just in time for all of us to swear we won’t eat so much next year. And through a good portion of that, the eggnog must flow to keep our spirits merry and our holly hopping.

But ain’t nobody out there wishing anybody no “Merry Halloween!” It’s not natural.

Octobernog must be stopped, and it must be stopped now. Think of the repercussions if we allow it to continue. Next thing you know, I’ll be drinking eggnog in September and not stopping until February, and then you’ll find me in some gutter somewhere, surrounded by empty eggnog containers and the strong stench of nutmeg.

You think obesity is a problem now? You wait until we’re all drinking eggnog at our Fourth of July parties.

You. Just. Wait.

So please. For the love of all that’s good and right in this world, join me in an eggnog strike. Let’s follow a simple rule: you can only buy eggnog during months that begin with N or D. That allows some wiggle room for drinking it at the beginning of January, but it keeps the rest of the year safe for eggnog-free lives. I think we can all agree it’s better that way.

But if we don’t do this strike–if we let eggnog run rampant through our society? I don’t like the future that holds. And right now, judging from the sheer quantities of eggnog Walmart had on its shelves (and worse yet, the many empty spots where you could see eggnog had just recently occupied), the strike isn’t being followed. Walmart’s not just selling the nog. People are buying the nog. And if people are buying the nog . . .

People are drinking it.

Please. Share this post. Save our society and ourselves. We’re no match for the overwhelming awesomesauce that is eggnog. It has to be regulated. Contained. Should we petition the government for this to happen?

Yes we can! I’m hereby announcing my official petition to the US Department of Agriculture to restrict the sale of eggnog to the months of November and December. You can participate in the drive. Head on over to change.org and sign my petition. Let’s make this thing go viral people. Save humanity. The fate of the entire universe might rest in your index finger right at this moment. Click “sign”, click “share,”

And make today mean something.

The Evils of Extra Credit(?)

This is a strange post to be writing, but sometimes I have strange thoughts. Those thoughts this week have turned toward extra credit, for a convoluted reason I won’t get into here. But in a nutshell, I came to the conclusion that a fair number of society’s problems might be caused by extra credit.

Well, perhaps that’s a bit extreme. But you don’t write interesting blog posts without making some overstatements now and then. Allow me to explain.

What exactly does extra credit accomplish? It gives students the opportunity to do additional work and improve their grade by virtue of having worked harder than they normally would have. I get it. I took advantage of those offers all the time when I was in school. So why am I suddenly thinking it’s not a great idea?

Simple. Life doesn’t have extra credit. By giving students so many chances to make up lost points in their grade, we teach them that effort matters as much as aptitude–if not more. And that’s just not the case in the majority of life. I can try as hard as I want to do something, but if I’m no good at it, then no amount of extra work is going to make it better.

Case in point: writing a book. Someone can work as hard as they want on a book–they can slave away on that thing for hours and hours. Years. Decades. Will any of that hard work pay off and net them a killer book deal?

Not necessarily. It might. It might not. Such is life.

The thing is, this makes sense in many areas of life. At my job, I can holler all I want about how hard I’ve been working, but if I don’t have the results to back up my work, then it does me no good. I could decide today to be the best pianist the world has ever seen. I could practice 16 hours a day, 7 days a week. It’s still no guarantee that I’ll ever get anywhere near elite level.

So why do we give students the chance to get around this immutable law of the galaxy? Why allow them to think the universe will bend knee to their overwhelming desire to succeed?

I suppose some of it is that we want to encourage hard work, and if students get to the point where they feel like no amount of work is going to help them, they give up. And no one wants to see anyone give up and get frustrated. Or do we? Don’t people give up and get frustrated out in the real world all the time?

What I mean to say is, “There are some people who are good at math, and some people who aren’t. Just because someone’s bad at math shouldn’t mean we let them work harder so that they think they’re just as good at math as the ones who are better than they are.”

I don’t know. The more I write about this topic, the more my head starts to spin. And that’s where you lovely people come in. What do you think about extra credit. Is it a good idea? Bad idea? A lot of you read a lot more studies than I do. How about it, hive mind–is there any research out there that says whether extra credit is a good idea or a bad idea?

Because no matter how hard I try to make this a valuable blog post, I think I’ve about reached my limits . . .

Family Pictures

The last time we took professional family pictures feels like only a year or two ago, but when I did the mental math, it turns out to have been three years, back when I was getting author photo shots as we were prepping for the release of Vodnik. Back in March, we won a photo shoot through a school fundraiser. At the time, we asked the photographer (Jaime Lynn) if we couldn’t postpone the shoot until fall, when we thought the colors would be better.

Well, it’s fall, and the colors were better, so it was time for the pictures.

I have to say going into it that I wasn’t really expecting a whole lot. This was a free photo session, after all. We met at a local apple orchard, and I figured we’d have a couple of poses and be on our merry way in about 15-20 minutes. Imagine my surprise when we ended up getting a slew of poses and over an hour’ worth of work. Big kudos to Jaime for her generosity with that donation. Not only did she do all of that, but she sent us an edited CD with 29 different shots on it and full rights to print any of them that we wanted. No watermarks. No gimmicks. Just great photographs.

I’m finicky with my photos. A lot of the ones I see posted online are ones I’m not crazy about. (Don’t worry. I absolutely adored the ones of your family that you posted the other day. I’m talking about everyone else’s.) Family pictures don’t have to be awkward to be ugly. Too often I see a picture and think it looks stilted or unnatural, or think I could have taken the same picture if I had a fancy camera. (Note: I realize I probably couldn’t, and that photography is an art form just like writing.) My point is that there’s a big difference between pictures, good pictures, and great pictures. I was hoping to get family pictures out of this free deal. On a good day, I hoped they’d be good.

I never thought they’d be great.

And yet they really turned out fantastically. (I may be a bit biased, considering the subject matter, but still.) Jaime was able to keep the kids entertained, and she somehow magically turned my children into children who actually seem like they enjoy getting their pictures taken–even TRC. I have no idea how she did this, and I’m not convinced it didn’t involve witchcraft, but I’m also not complaining. She was definitely a pleasure to work with. Polite, fun, clear, and–most important–really able to come up with a great end product.

In other words, if any of you locals out there are looking for a photographer, might I heartily recommend Jamie Lynn Photography?

And without further ado, here are some of the other pics taken that day. Thanks, Jaime!

Lessons Learned from My Blog: Consistency Beats Pizzazz

I was taking a minute to look over my blog statistics for the last while. (Surprised to see that my post about Denisa’s illicit House Elf use rocketed right up to the top tiers of my page views. Probably has something to do with the way I linked it on Facebook, making it seem like something bad was happening. People flock to bad news. Everybody loves a train wreck.)

It’s gratifying to see how many people read my blog. Still hardly up in the stratosphere, but after doing this for seven years (today is my 1,819th post!), I definitely don’t feel like I’m writing to a vacuum. I check in each day to see how the post the day before performed. Sometimes posts I think will be home runs are little more than a fizzle, and other times posts I think will be fizzles are home runs.

Them’s the breaks.

But looking at those statistics, three things jump out at me. The first is that many people use the internet–Facebook in particular–differently than I do. I rarely go to old posts on Facebook. And by “old,” I mean “anything posted before the day I’m looking at it.” I have my feed carefully weeded, so only the people I really want to see updates about appear in it. So if I don’t go to something the day it’s posted, chances are I’m never going to it.

My blog posts don’t work like that. Oh, the day I post something is the day it’ll make the biggest splash, but I’m surprised to see the residual effects–how a post can just keep on trucking for days after it goes up.

Which leads me to my second observation.

Flashy is great and all, but there’s a whole lot to be said for consistency. My post about a linguistic analysis of why Jar Jar Binks’ dialect is obnoxious is something that went up years ago. I wrote it for one of my intro to linguistics classes, and I posted it long after the fact, mainly because I thought it was interesting. This was long before hardly anyone read my blog. Long after the prequels were released. There’s really no reason for people to look at the post these days.

And yet week after week, it gets a few views. Not tons–one or two here, three there. But it’s every week. For years. And so while I might have written flashier posts–posts that caused more debate and discussion on Facebook, or posts that caught more people’s attention–Jar Jar is by far my most popular post. Ever.

We’re talking like five times the views of the next most popular post.

That’s somehow fitting to me, because it represents my whole approach to writing. I don’t write in huge chunks. I don’t shoot to get it all done in a weekend or a month. 1,000 words a day, day in, day out. It’s what I need to do to be able to get everything else done in my life. But that 1,000 words each day can really add up over time. Consistency beats pizzazz, for me.

Finally, when I went to actually review that article, I was really surprised by how short it is. When I wrote it as an undergrad, it took a long time to get it all on paper. In my head, it’s this big long article. In reality? I write bigger articles than that on an off day, easily. (Granted–not as well researched, but still.) Just a friendly reminder to myself that I write an awful lot, and that I’ve gotten much faster at writing than I used to be.

So there you have it. Some deep thoughts for this Friday. And now I’ll leave you. Three day weekend this week, because Columbus. I wonder if people will ever dedicate a holiday to me. I mean, I get lost on a regular basis. True, not so lost that I think I’m in Asia when I’m actually in North America, but I figure I’ve got a few decades left in me to perfect that skill. Either which way, I won’t be posting Monday–so I’ll see you Tuesday!

Why Ebola Scares Me

I get it. I understand that the odds of Ebola going out of control in this country and other countries with robust healthcare are basically slim to non. I understand that the flu kills many many more people each year, and that it’s much easier to spread. I get that I ought to be more concerned getting in my car each morning than I am about Ebola.

But the thought of this disease and what it could do still scares me to the core.

Don’t get me wrong–it’s not like I’m losing sleep over this. I’m far from panic mode. But a few years ago, a doctor friend of mine recommended a book to me: The Hot Zone. It’s all about what exactly Ebola does, and how serious we should take it. Written in 1995. In it, Preston describes in great detail what exactly happens to someone who gets Ebola or Marburg.

It’s an image that’s stayed with me ever since. Bleeding from the eyes is something you just don’t forget.

I also remember Preston discussing at length how all it would take is the wrong mutation for this virus to go air born, and then we’re all in a whole lot of trouble. And the more people catch it, the more of a chance this bug has to change and adapt into something hellacious.

(That said, I’m not an expert on diseases, and I realize Preston had to sell copies of his book, and you don’t sell copies by saying “the odds of this really happening are very remote. Can someone out there talk me off this ledge?)

The people who keep writing about how we shouldn’t be concerned about Ebola seem to be missing the obvious in their rush to prove how smart and unaffected by base emotions they are: Hollywood has been churning out movies about terrible diseases for years. Yes, you have Outbreak and the like, but you’ve got a plethora of zombie movies and shows in addition to that–and all of them start the same way: new disease wrecking havoc through the population.

History backs a lot of that up. The Spanish Influenza. The Black Death. Yellow Fever. Yes, these happened before today’s advances in medicine, but the people around at the time thought they were pretty advanced too.

I don’t have a solution to this problem, obviously. I don’t think we should be hitting the panic button anywhere. But I do think that people who are wagging their fingers and telling everyone not to worry about this should think twice before saying that.

But maybe I’m wrong. I really hope I am.

And on that happy note . . .

Why Mormons Bug You to Join Their Religion

As promised, I did a lot of sitting and listening over the weekend (and yes, perhaps a healthy bit of napping too). But there was a lot of listening, I swear. And in all that listening, one talk stood out to me personally more than the others. Don’t get me wrong–there were a lot of talks that stood out to me. A lot of food for thought. But the one I felt the most connection to was Elder Bednar’s discussion about why Mormons are so big on preaching the gospel to everybody.

Why did it stand out to me? Because he managed to pack two different messages into one single talk, addressing two different audiences in unique ways, while being interesting (I think) to both. That’s quite the feat of rhetoric, but he pulled it off very well. On the one hand, he’s speaking to non-members, explaining why Mormons are so eager to knock on doors.

The stereotype is clear enough that it carried a whole Broadway musical: chipper young men, going from door to door across the globe, trying to talk to strangers about how awesome the Mormon church is. That’s pretty much what that ad for the musical (posted at the top of this article) says in a nutshell. I think the easy justification people like to use for why Mormons are so chipper is because we’re all deluded, brainwashed, or just plain simple-minded.

I think Elder Bednar does a fantastic job of giving a fourth alternative: that many of us are just flat out sincere. He gives a lengthy account of how his sons helped each other out when they were injured, and how they then went to help their friends out, as well:

Why did that little boy do what he did? Please note that he immediately and intuitively wanted to give to his friends the very thing that had helped him when he was hurt. That little boy did not have to be urged, challenged, prompted, or goaded to act. His desire to share was the natural consequence of a most helpful and beneficial personal experience.

Many of us as adults behave in precisely the same way when we find a treatment or medication that alleviates pain with which we have long suffered, or we receive counsel that enables us to face challenges with courage and perplexities with patience. Sharing with other people things that are most meaningful to us or have helped us is not unusual at all.

But at the same time, Elder Bednar is talking to members, as well–telling them in a subtle way how they ought to be sharing that Gospel they love. Take this quote, for example:

When we invite you to attend church with us or to learn with the full-time missionaries, we are not trying to sell you a product. As members of the Church, we do not receive prizes or bonus points in a heavenly contest. We are not seeking simply to increase the numerical size of the Church. And most importantly, we are not attempting to coerce you to believe as we do. We are inviting you to hear the restored truths of the gospel of Jesus Christ so you can study, ponder, pray, and come to know for yourself if the things we are sharing with you are true.

He lists off those non-reasons fairly casually, and he gets a good laugh out of them, but they’re a distinct reminder to members about what sharing the gospel isn’t about. It’s not about numbers. It’s not about being right. It’s not some multi-level marketing scheme. It’s about individual relationships with God.

Longtime readers will remember a post I wrote a while ago that started a lengthy Facebook discussion. I wrote that post as a reaction to a discussion I’d just had. It’s fairly inflammatory, which represents my immediate feelings at the time. Would I still write it the same way today? Doubtful. Do I still hold some of those sentiments? Definitely. And Elder Bednar’s speech did a lot to talk to that part of me–the part of me that bristles over members’ approach to missionary work at times.

We need to remember to keep the focus on Elder Bednar and away from Glengarry. Sharing the gospel isn’t something that needs to be forced at all. When you’re truly converted, it practically shares itself.

There are other reasons the talk resonated with me–his mention at the end of absolute truth, for example–but those are the two biggies. Anyone else impressed by this one? What other talks stood out to you? Why? Please share.

In Which I Discover the World-Shaking Truth About My Wife

Longtime readers know I love my wife. We’ve been together over thirteen years, after all. And after thirteen years, you’d think I knew everything there was to know about her. You’d think I’d know what to expect from her in just about every situation imaginable. So picture my surprise when I opened my drawer this morning to take a shower, and I discovered it. Incontrovertible proof of something that only became clear to me this morning. In that very instant.

What was inside that drawer? What terrible, awful truth did it reveal?

Clean laundry, my friends.

Clean. Laundry.

Not that clean laundry in my house is anything really surprising. I mean, Denisa’s been keeping me in clean laundry for over a decade.

Or has she?

You see, yesterday she finally went a bit too far. She got the kids ready for school, made lunches, cleaned the kitchen, watched the baby, organized her bread order for the week, lesson planned for her classes, graded tests, figured out dinner, cleaned the bathroom, checked on her mom’s flight, answered emails, got the kids snacks, played with MC outside, organized the pickup of our family pictures, spent time with the family, then went down to Portland to pick her mom up at the bus station, leaving at 9pm and getting back at 3am. And I think we can all agree that all of that constitutes one heck of a full day.

And yet there was the clean laundry, staring me in the face, daring me to come up with another explanation. Any other explanation.

But I couldn’t. There is no other possible way my wife could have washed, dried, and folded my laundry in addition to everything else she did yesterday. It all points to one fact:

She’s using House Elves.

This is a difficult thing to admit. I don’t normally like to narc on my wife, but I don’t see any way around it. In hindsight, I should have recognized the signs: her ability to get so much done on so little time. Her high cleaning standards. The way food magically appears at meal times. Her refusal to let clothes just lie around any old place, where they might accidentally be handed to the wrong elf.

It was all there in black and white. Hermione would be appalled.

So what do I do now, friends? Do I say nothing, and live on the backs of the downtrodden? Do I confront her? Am I supposed to stage some sort of intervention? I’m at a loss. My life hasn’t prepared me for this sort of encounter.

I went through the house from attic to basement, looking for where she’s keeping the house elves. I’m convinced it has to be down in the crawl space. There are some spots there I just can’t wriggle into. It must be simply dreadful for the poor things. And to think Denisa’s been doing this all along, and I was so clueless . . .

I blame myself, really. I know she wasn’t into House Elves when we got married. I must have pushed her there over the years, encouraging her baking and her teaching, all the while eating food and getting clothes dirty. I just didn’t think I’d push her that far.

But I’ve had some time to think about it now, and I might have come up with a plan. I won’t let her know that I’m onto her. I’ll start trying to help more around the house to alleviate the poor House Elves’ suffering. And I’ll leave socks in strategic places throughout the house, particularly in books. They’ll be accidentally freed, and my hope is we can just get through this.

Has anyone else out there had anything like this happen to them? Any closeted House Elf users out there want to give me pointers on how to approach the problem? I’m all ears. Wait–no. That came off wrong, since we’re talking about elves and all. I meant to say . . .

Inquiring minds want to know.

In the meantime, wish me luck.

General Conference with Kids: How Do You Do It?

I realize this is rather too late to do anyone else much good, but I thought I might write the post while it’s fresh in my mind, as opposed to waiting until April, when I’ll forget that I want to write it. Make sense?

We watched General Conference over the weekend, and it went really smoothly for the family. (Well, as smoothly as possible when you’ve got a toddler involved.) TRC and DC were quiet and attentive for all 8 hours. They’d take breaks during the songs, but they’d listen to the talks. (Pro tip: you can tell they’re listening when they laugh during the jokes.) This is a far cry from a year or two ago, when getting them to sit still for longer than one or two talks was like pulling teeth. How did I do it? What made the difference?

I just did what you’re usually supposed to do in these situations: asked myself, “What would Scooby do?”

(That’s from the new version, but I couldn’t find a clip from the old. Sorry.)

As we all know, Scoob’ll do anything for a Scooby Snack. Kids will too–if you replace “Scooby Snack” with “let’s go to the store, have you pick out some treats, and then let you buy them from a ‘store’ with tickets you earn for being quiet and attentive during conference.”

So the night before conference I picked up some Oreos, Goldfish, Fig Newtons, and soft caramels. The kids made their own tickets, then gave them to me to dole out. I couldn’t have been more pleased with how it turned out. No one was required to listen to any of conference, but it was the only way to earn tickets.

It might help that my kids rarely get to eat pure junk food. Just like if Scooby got to nom down on Scooby Snacks all the time, he’d likely stop being motivated by them.

Anyway–that’s the trick I used. I was pretty happy with it, but I wondered at the same time what other people out there do–especially with older kids. I’m fairly confident the Scooby Snack approach will continue working with my younger kids, but something tells me teenagers won’t be as easily swayed–even as it becomes more important for them to actually be paying attention.

So consider this an open forum to talk about how you help your family get the most out of conference. Thanks in advance for any tips!

I’m Exhausted: Thank Goodness It’s General Conference

September felt like a long month this time through. In fact, I’m not convinced the government didn’t sneak a few extra days in there somewhere, just to spite me. In any case, I’m fairly on the tired side at the moment. Four trips to Bangor in a week will do that to a guy. (Please ignore the fact that I used to commute 2 hours one way each day to go work in New York City. I was young. Seriously. I think about that now and just shake my head.)

In any case, the exact thing I could really use is an entire weekend just sitting around relaxing. And by golly, wouldn’t you know it? It’s General Conference weekend. For you non-Mormons out there, that means a weekend filled with 10 hours of church leaders giving talks that are beamed across the world online. You might think that sounds fairly on the boring side. 10 hours of talks? You might wonder if they’re on something really enthralling or unique. They’re not. Not unless you find talks about how to have more faith or love or charity enthralling. 10 hours of TEDtalks this ain’t.

And yet I look forward to it, and it happens twice a year. Why in the world do I look forward to it?

For one thing, the way we approach it in my family (other Mormons might do it differently, ranging from “Woot! No church at all!” to “Get dressed up and go watch every session at the church building) is that it’s a weekend we do nothing else. We hang out at home, watching conference. Sometimes I do some quiet chores while I watch: organize paperwork or declutter a bookshelf. Sometimes I’ll do something with my hands. But whatever I’m doing, it’s quiet. Peaceful. The kids are quiet. The house is quiet.

I have been known to take a few extended naps in the middle of all that quiet. (Hey–they publish the talks after the fact, okay?) I’ll often bake up something yummy, or Denisa will, or both of us will. We’ll play some games as a family here or there throughout the weekend. I inevitably emerge from the weekend feeling better than I began it, with an important new perspective about what’s important in my life.

It’s two days of God-approved rest time. Nothing in it’s secret or hush hush–feel free to nap watch along with me this weekend. Sessions on Saturday are from 12-2, 4-6, and then 8-10. Sunday has them from 12-2 and 4-6. (All times EDT)

Either which way, I’ll catch you all on Monday. I’m looking forward to some peace and quiet.

Watching the Classics with Your Kids: Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure

It’s never too soon to make sure your children are brought up with an appreciation for the finer things in life. You can keep your Citizen Kanes and your hoity toity artsy films. I’m talking about the really important stuff.

Stuff like Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure.

The sad thing is, there’s probably a fair number of people out there who have never seen this movie. It came out in 1989, which means it came out 6 or 7 years before any of the incoming freshmen at my university were born. And the thought of going through life without knowing the most excellent nature of this fine feature film is something too bogus and heinous for this movie fan to want to consider.

Any movie that can have this much fun with time travel, history, and idiot lead actors simply demands attention. Plus: Keanu Reeves.

Whoa.

If you’ve never seen the movie, here’s a quick overview: two boneheads travel through time to kidnap famous people so that they’ll help them in their end of the year history oral report. The movie is just as fun to watch now as it was when I first saw it. My kids had a great time from start to finish. Yes, there was a bit of innuendo in the movie, but it sails right past them, and there’s not much to speak of.

What are the parts they enjoyed the most? The mall scene was a favorite. The montage of stealing historical figures was a big hit. And any time there was anything approaching potty humor, of course.

There’s talk of a third movie finally being filmed, and that pleases me to no end. It might end up being lousy, but it certainly deserves a shot.

In any case, it was a fun way to spend an evening. I have no idea what it is about this movie that still provides me with so much entertainment. It’s counterintuitive, I know. Some of it has to be that I grew up with it. But I really think it’s a well done flick, right down to the time travel shenanigans at the climax. It’s not often you get a movie this “out there” that’s willing to just keep going out there and not let up.

In any case, be excellent to each other, peoples. And party on, dudes!