Pirates & Proselyting

My calling is to work with the full-time missionaries. One of the Elders assigned to our ward had an infected eye last week, requiring that he wear an eye patch. For some reason, this made him nearly despondent. He didn’t want to be seen with it and was visibly bothered when anyone talked about it. Even saying “arrrgh” didn’t bring a smile to his face.

At our weekly meeting, I was shocked to learn that the eye patch hadn’t resulted in any additional teaching opportunities. Seriously, from which of these people would you rather learn religion?

Gift Idea

One of the many minor frustrations of LDS service-oriented moves is that the people being moved almost never have the appropriate tools on hand for the last few steps of the process. (“A screwdriver to disassemble my $7 Ikea desk? Of course I have one. It’s packed in a box you loaded in the truck forty minutes ago.”)*

I’ve been thinking since the last time this occurred that I should begin carrying a pocket multi-tool so we’ll always have pliers, screwdrivers, and a knife available. Of course I’d have occasion to use such a device about six times before I’m too old to continue helping with moves, but such practical thoughts have no bearing in tool purchase decisions. If you have a husband or father and want to make Fathers’ Day 2008 the greatest ever, buy him this.**

Go here to see the full awesomeness of this tool, including the ingenious one-handed action of accessing the knife. You have the Delicious Animals guarantee*** that giving the byrdrench for Fathers’ Day will ensure you are the favorite spouse or child for the next twelve months.
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* Remind me to tell you sometime about the move in which we nearly hit the trifecta of finding disgusting stuff. Without giving away the exciting conclusion I’ll just point out quickly that if you ask people to move you (for free) and it takes the better part of a day for these people to conduct said move and they find any combination of dead rodents, live cockroaches, and human bodily waste you have asked for too much. The same holds true for any move that includes packing. If you want help packing, ask for that in advance. People coming to help you move did not sign up for an extra couple of hours loading your crap into garbage bags. They asked for aching muscles, strained joints, and donuts.

** Note to Denise and my literate children: I do not want you to buy this tool for me. Receiving it would make me feel guilty over the purchase price and give me one fewer reason to avoid helping with moves. Please do not buy this tool for me.

*** Yes, I realize I’ve used five footnotes in two blog posts. No, I do not have sufficient interest in improving my writing skills to eliminate such laziness.

Sorry Emma

Denise has written a couple of times that Emma and I share many traits. One of these became evident while we were watching football recently and a commercial for the Baconator was broadcast.

The Baconator: Two quarter-pound slabs of beef, two slices of processed American cheese-like product, and six -- SIX -- slices of bacon dressed with mayonnaise and ketchup.

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Emma is a good sports viewer -- she knows to sit quietly. Her silence became almost reverence until the commercial ended. Then she turned to me and said, "Dad, I think I'm going to try one of those Baconators. I really like bacon."

It's true -- animals are delicious.

Love / Hate

Great deli ninety seconds from my desk. / Variable pricing for the same item depending on which cashier I get, which day of the week it is, or seemingly how cloudy it is in Mumbai.


Outsourcing projects I hate or cannot perform to gardeners, plumbers, mechanics, etc. / Having to deal with said people.*


Hobos, monkeys, robots. / Not being able to include midgets because of political correctness.


Denise and most of my children.** / People who sit next to me on the train without removing their still-dripping overcoat.


Random and unnecessary use of footnotes. / Gimmicky blog posts.
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* I was recently accused of being elitist for not wanting to give a gift of uncertain value to wealthy business partners, so let me clarify. All work is noble. Blue collar jobs are fine and those who hold them can be great. We have an excellent carpenter who has worked for us and was a pleasure. One of my best friends paves roads. It’s the landscaper who will only come out to the house “if the weather is nice” or the plumber who insists that the water has to be turned off for twenty four hours to complete a twenty minute connection that irritate me. My mechanical knowledge is quite limited, so if I know more about your job than you do, you go on the right hand side of this equation.

** You know the old saying: You can love all of your children some of the time and some of your children all of the time, but dang it kid if you don't shut your pie hole before I count to 'belt'....

Signs of the Times or Good Financial Planning?

Over the last few months I’ve been making arrangements for my death. This has mostly involved mundane tasks like buying more life insurance and collecting relevant financial information into a single location so my family can easily access financial resources. Pretty dull in addition to obviously macabre.

Today I came across this. I don’t know whether it’s an indication of society’s failure to properly care for our elderly poor or a financial planning tip I should recommend to Denise when I get hit by the bus.