LL Cool J and the Title of Liberty

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by Apparent Parent (bio)

This is definitely the first time I have ever respected a rapper beating someone up.

The following excerpt is from the LA Times.

"LL Cool J, born James Todd Smith, told police he was upstairs in his home when he heard a noise coming from the kitchen area. When he went to investigate, a man came at him, leading to the fight, police said.

"During what several sources described as a brawl, [the perpetrator] suffered a broken nose, jaw and ribs. The actor, who was not injured, later told authorities that he acted out of the concern for his family."

I wonder if "Momma Said Knock You Out," his own song, was running through his head as he kicked the heck out of the drug-addicted would-be robber.

Oddly, the first thing I thought of when I read about this event was Moroni's title of liberty, the torn coat he inscribed with the words: "In memory of our God, our religion, and freedom, and our peace, our wives, and our children."

Ode to Summer

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by Apparent Parent (bio)

Stop hiding there, I can see you,
Keeping my kids awake,
Making us all laugh and play,
Because daylight is at stake.

It's 10 o'clock, and just right now,
My kids went down to sleep,
And yet I hear them laughing,
And the noise is pretty steep.

Why is it I like you?
When all you do is rise,
Up with the sun,
And abandon with the dusk,
All the summer fun.

It may just be a good thing,
That your stay is pretty short,
When my bones start lagging,
At the break of dawn so early,
And after all those games of tagging.

But even if you did stay,
I think I wouldn't mind,
Because unlike some people's in-laws,
You fill me up inside,
And I can see past all your flaws.

How To Preach Like A Four Year-Old

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by Apparent Parent (bio)

"Hey," my son told my neighbor, "you didn't watch general conference."

My neighbor is not LDS and lives with his girlfriend, generally two things that make it a pretty sure bet the person won't be watching general conference. In my neighbors' defense, they are getting married this summer. I love these neighbors. They are the best neighbors you could ask for, really. They treat our kids respectfully and we help each other out all the time doing odds and ends.

With this background, you understand the confused look my neighbor shot my miniscule 4-year old while he was getting regaled about not taking part in something he probably doesn't know exists. My son then proceeded to tell him he should go to our church, something he is also guilty of not attending.

"Those two things are really good things," my son added. This made my neighbor laugh.

"Those are really good things, buddy!"

I personally fought the urge to cringe, wondering if I should call off the doctrinal attack midget. But after a moment, inspiration struck and I explained to my neighbor, who happened to be in a conversation with another neighbor, that my son always wishes he and his girlfriend would attend church with us because he likes them so well. It was true, inoffensive and made my son's proselytizing seem more friendly than accusatory.

This made both my neighbors laugh, the other neighbor saying, "Oh, how cute!"

Let Your Darkness Hide Under A Bushel

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by Apparent Parent (bio)

I'm pretty sure when Jesus said "Let your light so shine
before men," he didn't mean for us to set the church on fire.

Jesus declared in his Sermon on the Mount that we should let our light shine before men (Matthew 5:16). We Latter-day Saints take this to mean we should let people see the good qualities in us as easily as they would see a candle on a hilltop.

Unfortunately, there are members of the church standing on that same proverbial hilltop with a blowtorch aimed directly at the temple standing on it. This is sad to me. As powerful as a good example can be, a bad example can etch itself into our memory much more quickly and powerfully than a long-term good example. It's like branding a cattle instead of marking it with a permanent marker every few weeks for its entire life.

I learned this lesson today while shopping for a new cell phone. After a helpful salesman showed me which dumbphones got good reception (since I live in a cell-phone dead zone), he left me to talk with his co-workers. While not intending to eavesdrop, the word "Mormons" soon wafted across the store.

Eavesdropping suddenly became inevitable.

Mormonism Obsessed With Christ: Responses

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We thought Mormonism Obsessed With Christ, an article written by a professor of religion and philosophy at Wabash College in First Things magazine, interesting enough to solicit responses from our contributors. Add your own reactions in the comments.

Bradly Baird (bio)

It is clear by reading this interesting article that - while the author seems to have some admiration for our doctrine and our "obsession" with Christ - he also finds us somewhat "peculiar," but in the best sense. He is unmoved by the Book of Mormon and speaks of it as a work of literature rather than what it actually is, a record of God's dealings with a chosen people. And he marks our interest in the Savior by declaring that we - the collective MormonISM - do "not significantly damage or deface that portrait" of Christ.

These declarations and opinions do not awaken any sort of ire on my part; instead, they reinforce a remarkable sense of gratitude at having acquired a personal testimony and a sincere feeling of humility in the knowledge that I acquired a singular knowledge of Truth through intimate and personal contact with Divinity (something only a small percentage of humans may declare). What is even more remarkable is the fact that I receive a similar blessing every single day of my life, the guiding light of conversation with my Father in Heaven.

And when all is said and done, I can't help but feel that the author has his nose pressed up against the metaphorical glass of the true gospel. He is an outsider looking in - as with all of our critics - and will simply not fully comprehend our obsessions until he too acquires that same enriching knowledge and faith.

Foodicare

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by Apparent Parent (bio)

Last fall, I shattered my kneecap in a hiking accident which has debilitated me to this day. I have had three surgeries, spent about seven weeks on crutches altogether, and spent way more time than I ever want to in a hospital. And this experience has given me a little insight into just how badly healthcare is run in this country. Is it the fault of doctors and hospitals? Partly, yes. But mostly no.

Looking at $6,000 of bills after my ridiculously expensive insurance payed $12,000 toward my first 48-hour hospital stay, I talked to a woman in billing about such line items as four $793 screws. My knee had two screws in it, the X-rays clearly show that. Yet they charged me for not two of these amazingly expensive pieces of hardware, but four. I spoke with her about 100-plus individual pharmacy charges when I refused almost all the medicine they offered me except one intravenous ibuprofen injection and two free samples of hydrocodone as I was leaving, because I suddenly reached a 16 on the 1-to-10 scale of pain. And I spoke with her about the overall ridiculous prices I am being forced to pay.

One item that especially galls me is called a PolarCare. It is a 12" x 12" x 12" cooler designed to pump cold water through a pipe to keep a constant ice pack of sorts on a knee injury. On the free market, we found these coolers from medical supply providers for between $100 and $150. I woke up with one on my leg with no foreknowledge or warning that they were going to ding me $728 for the thing, regardless of whether I wanted or needed it.

MMM Mail 2: Chivalrous Or Chauvinistic - Who Pays?

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Q: As a single lady in the dating game, I feel really awkward having my date pay for me. Not necessarily for one date, that's nice and normal and polite to do when you ask someone out. However, once I'm in a relationship it gets iffy. You have to work out who's going to keep paying for dates and/or hangouts and I don't feel comfortable with the idea of my guy always footing the bill. The transition from traditional first date (where the guy pays) to the relationship arena (where we go dutch or equally split) is awkward, but in a good relationship you can work through that with communication. So imagine a scenario where a guy asks me out and I say, "Sure! I'd really like that. This may sound strange, but how would you feel about going dutch?" Is this too much for a first date? To me, if we both pay our own way, we'd be more relaxed and our expectations would be more realistic. But I realize that in the past I've unwittingly stomped all over a guy's need to feel manly when I've ignored "social constructs" that to me don't make sense, so I'd like to be more sensitive in respecting my dates' ideas of their roles as men. Is my interest in paying my own way too much? Should I let it wait until the second or third, or even the seventh date?

A: Call it old-fashioned, but most men feel they should pay on the first date. A few of our contributors give their two cents below and we hope many more of our readers will open their opinion wallets as well.

brettmerritt
I think you hit it on the head with "in a good relationship you can work through that with communication." Because, really, the goal of dating isn't to see who pays or if his manliness or your feminism will stay intact, but to begin the discovery process of what could be a solid relationship. My suggestion would be to just enjoy the dates and if you go on more than two or three and you're really getting along, then bring up the possibility of you paying for the next one or something. If he's cool and you really are compatible, he'll be open to it. Asking to pay on the first date (of before it) can be weird for the guy even if he is totally on board with your feminist tendencies.

Apparent Parent
As a man, I want to be able to pay for the first date. It's not so much a manly thing or a hunter-gatherer thing, like "I'll take care of you and provide for you, because I'm a man." My cro-magnon self has evolved beyond that. It's more like, "I invited you out here and I don't want you to incur unnecessary expenses on my behalf. After all, it's my fault you're stuck with me for an evening." Maybe after a successful first date a woman who would like to pay her own way could say something like, "Next time I'll pay." That shows an interest, expresses a desire to get back together and shows a willingness to chip in on the dating experience. But on a first date, if the guy asks you out, let the poor dude pay. It'll make him feel like you haven't fully accepted his offer for a date otherwise. It's almost like saying, "I'll go, but as a friend. You can't pay for me or it'll be too much of an (eeewww) date."

Seattle Jon
Here is my definition of the kind of guy you should look for. He will plan on paying, but won't be too overbearing. He will realize that some women find it disempowering, old fashioned or chauvinistic when men insist on paying for everything. On the other hand, he will recognize that some women find it chivalrous. Most importantly, he will get a feel for what you prefer and then do what makes you most comfortable.

Pain And The Atonement

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by Apparent Parent (bio)

Pain is much more real after an emergency helicopter evac.
And somehow that pain taught me a spiritual lesson.

"On a scale of 1 to 10," the nurses asked me every time they ever saw me.

"A dull 4," I'd usually answer. "Maybe a 5."

Little did I know they were secretly trying to make me cross that 10 threshold. Throughout my hospital stay, I had avoided pain medication. When I shattered my kneecap in the mountains, I refused morphine they offered to stream into my blood to make the pain go away while I unexpectedly camped because it was too dark for the rescue helicopter to fly out with us after it brought in rescue rangers. Not the chipmunk kind - the khaki kind. Heck, I even refused Advil.

You see, I'm of the school of thought that feels most medicines mess with your system more than they help it. I'm not saying it's an accredited university or anything, but that's how I've always felt. So I doggedly persisted in refusing anything but anesthetic while they tore my knee open, drilled two screws through my patella to reconnect the five pieces of my kneecap back into a blessed skeletal Pangaea, and stitched up the five-inch gash under my knee.

Dear Ender's Game Movie: Please Don't Be Twilight

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by Apparent Parent (bio)

As a student at BYU back in 2005, I happened to walk through the BYU Bookstore just as Orson Scott Card was beginning a book signing for one of his many inconsequential books. As an author, I have always found Card's work hit and miss. He writes a ton, and seems to only find greatness every once in a while. In fact, some might consider Ender's Game his only memorable book.

Now, I haven't read every Orson Scott Card book, and I don't intend to. Books like this are why. Also this. And this, which is actually Book 3 in the Ender's Game series. It was absolutely unreadable for me. (Spoilers in next sentence.) What started as a strong series about a boy playing a game as training to fight an interplanetary war against an evil species trying to take over the world became nothing but philosophical ponderings about war, race, etc. Talk about devolution.

Anyway, when I saw Card at the bookstore, I had only recently finished reading Ender's Game, which, like many, was my entry to Card's writings. So I was excited to see him. At the time, he talked about the scripting process for the movie, which recently announced for real casting calls after dozens of false starts. Since Ender's Game is a classic, this was exciting news to me and all the other sci-fi/fantasy nerds that surrounded me in the bookstore to hear Card speak before his signing. Card spoke of the difficulty in getting a satisfactory screenplay because of the amount of introspection in the book. This is supposedly why this movie has been in the pipeline for, oh, 3.6 million light years.

MoronicScammersAndTheDumbThingsTheyTryToDo

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by Apparent Parent (bio)

Most classifieds websites warn users of scams when new posts come online. The deal just might be too good to be true, they are in essence saying. What they don't warn you about is all the moronic scammers that will contact you when you want to sell something. When I listed my car in the local classifieds, I got jokers trying to steal my car from me in all sorts of interesting ways, just because I listed my email address. The funny thing is, these people trying to steal my stuff, while making it look like they're going to buy it, are endearing to me in an odd way. They are so stupid and know so little English that it's cute. I actually humor them by sending them responses as quirky as their inquiries. My favorite such transaction I have included in its entirety below with director commentary.


Inquiry email from Mack John, original grammar left intact.

Hello Seller,

am an oceanographer and am interested in your item place for sale and will love to know the final price and I'm willing to purchase it. As for the price am pleased with it and the condition, so i want you to consider the item sold.I will like to ask you some questions:

1} Are you the original owner of the item?
2} Do i need to repair?
3} Will you accept PAYPAL as a payment
4} Will allow local pickup at your location?
5} Do you have more pics?
6} What is the weight?
7} And also get back to me with your paypal email account.

Guest Post: The Real Reasons Babies Don't Smile

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Mark Wilcox is a professional writer and photographer living with his family in beautiful Jackson Hole, Wyoming. Beside loads of freelance writing, Wilcox also manages to write blog posts for his own blog: apparentparent.blogspot.com, which is featured on mormondaddyblogs.com. He has three kids that keep him busy as a loving "Daddy" to his children. Anyone can be a father, but it takes someone else entirely to be "Daddy." Wilcox writes about that little extra magic it takes. His topics vary widely from family outings to advice on bedtime from the battleground itself. Mark is also a repeat guest poster, having already written about parenting with a zone defense here.

I know so-called “experts” say babies don't smile because of that whole “not developed enough” thinger, but I think there's more to it than that. So, I got to thinking what reasons a baby would have not to smile. All of this came to me as I was cooing and wiggling my head and grinning like an idiot trying to get my two-week-old daughter to smile at me and show off her dimples. Here's the list:

1) They're asleep. Yes. Even when they're awake they're asleep. Eyeballs don't mean anything. Just because they're looking at you doesn't mean they're consciously aware. They're just sleeping with their eyes open.

2) They're little. Think about it. If you were that tiny and everyone else around you were ginormous, happiness probably wouldn't be on the docket. Emotions you would feel? Paranoia, fear, helplessness, and indigestion. Technically the last one's not an emotion, though it sure causes some.

3) They have indigestion. Nothing worse than not being able to digest liquid easily. How hard can it be? But those little kids have a rough time on it, if the looks of concentration mean anything.

4) They're about to puke. All the time. My kids have never even been anywhere near what some kids have, but man have I gotten doused with our newest little girl. The word shower comes to mind, but not in a good way.

Guest Post: Parenting With Zone Defense

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Mark Wilcox is a professional writer and photographer living with his family in beautiful Jackson Hole, Wyoming. Beside loads of freelance writing, Wilcox also manages to write blog posts for his own blog: apparentparent.blogspot.com, which is featured on mormondaddyblogs.com. He has three kids that keep him busy as a loving "Daddy" to his children. Anyone can be a father, but it takes someone else entirely to be "Daddy." Wilcox writes about that little extra magic it takes. His topics vary widely from family outings to advice on bedtime from the battleground itself.

I'm pretty sure it was Confucius or some other wise philosophy type guy that once posited “When your third child you have, transition to zone defense you must.”

The syntax makes me wonder if it was Yoda.

I'm learning after our third child arrived last week just how true the principle is. Before, my wife would take one child and I would take the other, keeping mischief to a somewhat manageable minimum in the process. However, after my wife delivered our newest daughter with some complications, the man defense has been tossed. Now, my resting wife's zone happens to be a very large armchair with a sleeping infant on her chest. Since she's on doctor's orders to rest, relax and recuperate, I'm pretty okay with that, if not a little jealous.

Let's just say my zone covers a little more ground. Not that I'm complaining. I saw what she went through this week between childbirth and complications. The chair is hers, dangit.

Part of my zone is outside where I take the kids to the park. I get steamrolled, grass-stained, jumped on, slid upon and more. My kids ask me to climb the playground equipment in an odd place, which means doing it all with upper body strength. I dutifully ratchet myself up some bars going across a bridge, only to find I have seriously strained some muscles in my neck and shoulders, giving me the equivalent of a kinked neck after a week of camping on sharp granite boulders without a pillow.

Park time is over, but the zone defense has only just begun. Returning home, I fertilize the lawn while doing my best to keep stray children from swallowing the weed pesticides in the lawn feed because they look like yellow Nerds.