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by Topher Clark:
I feel strongly impressed to write about what a man is supposed to do to help his wife in labor. The problem is that I'm the worst at birthing. You would think that, having been through it five times, I would have some kind of insight into how to make the baby come out easier, or stop the screaming, or make the nurses come to the room any quicker when you push the button. I've taken the Lamaze class so I should have some idea about how to help, but that was thirteen years ago and I only remember that you are supposed to get all up in your wife's face and count, and I have since learned that this is NOT A GOOD IDEA.
Which leads me to think that I would be more effective at giving pointers about what not to do, since basically we men need to be completely unobtrusive during the birthing, whether we know it or not. It's really not about us, fellas. I know you took your little class and it's supposedly your baby, but still. This isn't your moment to call the shots and make "helpful" comments. Mostly you need to be present, positive, and accept whatever demands are made of you. These demands may include "please-hold-my-hand-and-let-me-squeeze-yours-for-support," but they may also involve "Please-turn-the-channel-Glee-just-came-on-and-now-my-baby-won't-come-out."
All of my children were born in good old-fashioned hospitals. I know that women make many different birthing choices, and that these days anything goes as long as the baby eventually emerges. I respect that, but I should confess that hospital deliveries are all I know, so I will be very little help here to you gentlemen if your wife decides to give birth in a hayloft or on some kind of bobsled. You can take whichever of my suggestions fit your birthing plan, and I wish you the best of luck!
Showing posts with label Topher Clark. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Topher Clark. Show all posts
Friday, February 21, 2014
Friday, January 4, 2013
MMM Library: In Character, Bishopric Edition
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by Topher Clark (bio)
This post was originally published on May 4, 2011.
As some of you might know, I am a counselor in a bishopric. Please do not let this sway or alter your testimony in any way. I didn't ask to do it, and I barely voted for myself. God calls in mysterious ways, and I've always been taught that you never say no to a calling (except working at the cannery.) In this first year of of my bishopric I have learned three important things:
1. Everyone sustains the bishop once a year at ward conference, and then the rest of the year three quarters of the ward complain about him.
2. The best part of my job is class hopping. Is sunday school boring today? How about a visit to the Primary! Is today a Deacon's Quorum kinda day? Or do I feel more like hanging out with the membership clerks? I love that.
3. You do NOT grow a beard in a bishopric. Despite there being nothing said about this in any current manual or ecclesiastical degree, THERE WILL BE NO BEARDS. Don't even imagine the possibility of a beard on your face. If your face is even a little bit scratchy you have irrevocably changed the face of the gospel for every old lady in your ward.
But one of the most important lessons I've learned is the "bishopric face." You learn this very quickly, because you have to. You must never show unrestrained emotion on the stand. Because 500 people are staring at you, and they want to know what you think. Almost all the time, someone is staring at you. Don't dispute this! I see you doing it. You take turns. You want to see if we like something, or don't like something, or are in any way super uncomfortable. And guess what? We're not going to break. You cannot break our faces. But if you are patient, and acutely observant, you'll see little cracks of emotion peeking through.
Herewith, then, is a little how-to pictorial to let you know what we are really feeling up there. Watch closely. These pictures are almost indistinguishable:
Ope! Someone just made a "Brother Clark is bald" joke! My favorite. I support your "jokes" and I hope they really kickstart your talk. Just remember, your bum is in my face and I could make "jokes" about that! (I won't.)
by Topher Clark (bio)
This post was originally published on May 4, 2011.
As some of you might know, I am a counselor in a bishopric. Please do not let this sway or alter your testimony in any way. I didn't ask to do it, and I barely voted for myself. God calls in mysterious ways, and I've always been taught that you never say no to a calling (except working at the cannery.) In this first year of of my bishopric I have learned three important things:
1. Everyone sustains the bishop once a year at ward conference, and then the rest of the year three quarters of the ward complain about him.
2. The best part of my job is class hopping. Is sunday school boring today? How about a visit to the Primary! Is today a Deacon's Quorum kinda day? Or do I feel more like hanging out with the membership clerks? I love that.
3. You do NOT grow a beard in a bishopric. Despite there being nothing said about this in any current manual or ecclesiastical degree, THERE WILL BE NO BEARDS. Don't even imagine the possibility of a beard on your face. If your face is even a little bit scratchy you have irrevocably changed the face of the gospel for every old lady in your ward.
But one of the most important lessons I've learned is the "bishopric face." You learn this very quickly, because you have to. You must never show unrestrained emotion on the stand. Because 500 people are staring at you, and they want to know what you think. Almost all the time, someone is staring at you. Don't dispute this! I see you doing it. You take turns. You want to see if we like something, or don't like something, or are in any way super uncomfortable. And guess what? We're not going to break. You cannot break our faces. But if you are patient, and acutely observant, you'll see little cracks of emotion peeking through.
Herewith, then, is a little how-to pictorial to let you know what we are really feeling up there. Watch closely. These pictures are almost indistinguishable:
Ope! Someone just made a "Brother Clark is bald" joke! My favorite. I support your "jokes" and I hope they really kickstart your talk. Just remember, your bum is in my face and I could make "jokes" about that! (I won't.)
Monday, July 2, 2012
Spotting the Yank
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by Topher Clark (bio)
Cheerio from London, gents. I've been here for a month, which is why I can say things like "cheerio" and "gents." I'm here with my UVU students for a month long study abroad program; this is my seventh consecutive year doing it. So I know some London! I also spent a year living nearby when I was in graduate school, which qualifies me to discuss my topic today: how to spot an American in London.
The old adage about the noisy, ugly American is actually untrue. I don't run across that many. I look for fanny packs and ball caps and people rasping "OMG" and complaining about customer service and all the other tell-tale signs, but you just don't see these people. I've heard they exist, but I don't know where. Maybe they are all at Madame Toussauds or something? I see them in Paris. All the time. But London? Not really.
So who are the Americans I can spot? Here are five examples:
1. You are some kind of vague business guy here for a few days on business. You wear a suit. You talk on your cell phone. Considering cell coverage is expensive here, you are either billing it to your vague business back in the states or totally faking that call. You go everywhere in a taxi, because you are secretly afraid of public transport.
by Topher Clark (bio)
The old adage about the noisy, ugly American is actually untrue. I don't run across that many. I look for fanny packs and ball caps and people rasping "OMG" and complaining about customer service and all the other tell-tale signs, but you just don't see these people. I've heard they exist, but I don't know where. Maybe they are all at Madame Toussauds or something? I see them in Paris. All the time. But London? Not really.
So who are the Americans I can spot? Here are five examples:
1. You are some kind of vague business guy here for a few days on business. You wear a suit. You talk on your cell phone. Considering cell coverage is expensive here, you are either billing it to your vague business back in the states or totally faking that call. You go everywhere in a taxi, because you are secretly afraid of public transport.
Monday, June 4, 2012
What Makes A Man?
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by Seattle Jon (bio)
Since the dawn of time, men have pursued it, women have yearned for it, but what makes a man?
Not the answer you were looking for? Let's see what our own Topher Clark has to say.
Well, he can climb trees, but he abandoned his wife (who is Pretty Darn Funny, btw) to a pack of starving children. I guess the question remains unanswered ... at least for today.
by Seattle Jon (bio)
Since the dawn of time, men have pursued it, women have yearned for it, but what makes a man?
Not the answer you were looking for? Let's see what our own Topher Clark has to say.
Well, he can climb trees, but he abandoned his wife (who is Pretty Darn Funny, btw) to a pack of starving children. I guess the question remains unanswered ... at least for today.
Monday, February 27, 2012
Xana-Don't?
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by Topher Clark (bio)
Last night Xanadu, a show I directed, opened at the Hale Center Theatre in Orem. I'm not just pimping out my work here, since I know that many MMM readers live outside Utah County. (Wait, there's people living outside Provo? Say wha?) But if you come to the show I would be happy to say hello. If I'm there. I have a lot of TV to catch up on and I seriously need to get my car into Jiffy Lube before all hell breaks loose with my fluids.
by Topher Clark (bio)
Last night Xanadu, a show I directed, opened at the Hale Center Theatre in Orem. I'm not just pimping out my work here, since I know that many MMM readers live outside Utah County. (Wait, there's people living outside Provo? Say wha?) But if you come to the show I would be happy to say hello. If I'm there. I have a lot of TV to catch up on and I seriously need to get my car into Jiffy Lube before all hell breaks loose with my fluids.
Anyway, I have thought about this production a lot. I've put a lot of time into it. And while there's nothing particularly offensive about the play, it does contain the following:
1. Men and women in super short shorts
2. A girl who brags about not wearing a bra
3. A cyclops and a Medusa (Satanic?)
4. A line about "fleeting intercourse"
5. A lot of super fey finger snapping
6. Choreography (i.e. angry flea hops)
7. A lot of glitter being thrown
8. Ladies dancing in tight metallic pants
9. A flying Pegasus (Satanic?)
10. Actors who stick their butts out a lot
I'm very proud of the show, but I'm also a priesthood holder. What's more, I'm a counselor in a bishopric. I'm not ashamed, but should I be? Is it okay to be a faithful LDS man and still like mythological (Satanic?) creatures and hot pants? Will my ward members judge me? Will I care? Will this come up in any kind of recommend interview? I don't know. I'm split. Brother Jekyll in me thinks that this is all very irreverent, but Brother Hyde loves it.
Oh, I don't know. It's something all of us in the arts struggle with. We want to create, and we want to explore, and we want to entertain. But we also want to hold our heads high in Elders Quorum. I'm not sure I know what the resolution is yet. Luckily, I shouldn't have this problem on my next production, Hedwig and the Angry Itch.
Thursday, February 2, 2012
The 39 Steps
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Support talented MMM contributor, Topher Clark, by taking your family or friends to his latest show playing now at the Hale Center Theater in Orem.
The 39 Steps comes straight from Broadway and is based on Alfred Hitchcock's 1935 film which follows Richard Hannay through a series of twists, turns and romantic intrigue. Four talented performers play all roles, some at the same time, in this spy-thriller that is part farce, part parody, and all comedy and laughs.
The Deseret News, Daily Universe and Salt Lake Tribune all love the show. The 39 Steps runs through February 11th, with evening performances at 7:30 p.m. and Saturday matinees at 3:00 p.m.
Buy your tickets now. Just don't take the same route Topher does to the theater ...
The 39 Steps comes straight from Broadway and is based on Alfred Hitchcock's 1935 film which follows Richard Hannay through a series of twists, turns and romantic intrigue. Four talented performers play all roles, some at the same time, in this spy-thriller that is part farce, part parody, and all comedy and laughs.
The Deseret News, Daily Universe and Salt Lake Tribune all love the show. The 39 Steps runs through February 11th, with evening performances at 7:30 p.m. and Saturday matinees at 3:00 p.m.
Buy your tickets now. Just don't take the same route Topher does to the theater ...
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
New Year's Resolution Update
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by Topher Clark (bio)
Hey all. I just wanted to write and give you an update on how my New Year's Resolution is going, since it's the last day of the first month of the year. In case you don't know, because I never publicly announced it, I have resolved not to text and drive in 2012. In past years I have set several resolutions, and I've kept most of them, but I've never felt more strongly about just setting one resolution than I have this year. Because it's a matter of life and death! Ask Oprah.
Anyway, my update is that I am not doing very well with this resolution. My car is somewhat safer than it was in 2011, but it's still basically a deathtrap.
I feel a lot of guilt about this because my father, literally, passed a law in Utah to make texting while driving illegal. So I'm incredibly hypocritical, and on top of that, a disrespectful son. I deserve a fender bender, I do! That would teach me. But so far nothing. I just go my merry way, passing innumerable blocks and jetting through traffic lights while making plans and sending questionable pictures to my wife.
But I am better. I have improved. There are days where I ONLY text at red lights, and that's a step in the right direction. Most days I do that. And I have that feature on my phone where I can speak into it and the text automatically types up. But even when I use that feature I'm still looking down at my phone a lot, and the autocorrect on that thing is insane! I will clearly say "be there in fifteen!" and my phone will write "big hair in canteen" and then I have to start over and use crazy clear diction. Who has time for that? Not this guy.
But I also don't have time for killing people, including myself. So I'm resolved to do better. January = bad progress but February = way better progress. In the meantime, DO NOT DRIVE WITH ME IN MY CAR. DO NOT DRIVE NEAR ME OR COME CLOSE TO MY NEIGHBORHOOD. And if you get a text from me, you can probably bet I'm on I-15 near Lehi.
by Topher Clark (bio)
Anyway, my update is that I am not doing very well with this resolution. My car is somewhat safer than it was in 2011, but it's still basically a deathtrap.
I feel a lot of guilt about this because my father, literally, passed a law in Utah to make texting while driving illegal. So I'm incredibly hypocritical, and on top of that, a disrespectful son. I deserve a fender bender, I do! That would teach me. But so far nothing. I just go my merry way, passing innumerable blocks and jetting through traffic lights while making plans and sending questionable pictures to my wife.
But I am better. I have improved. There are days where I ONLY text at red lights, and that's a step in the right direction. Most days I do that. And I have that feature on my phone where I can speak into it and the text automatically types up. But even when I use that feature I'm still looking down at my phone a lot, and the autocorrect on that thing is insane! I will clearly say "be there in fifteen!" and my phone will write "big hair in canteen" and then I have to start over and use crazy clear diction. Who has time for that? Not this guy.
But I also don't have time for killing people, including myself. So I'm resolved to do better. January = bad progress but February = way better progress. In the meantime, DO NOT DRIVE WITH ME IN MY CAR. DO NOT DRIVE NEAR ME OR COME CLOSE TO MY NEIGHBORHOOD. And if you get a text from me, you can probably bet I'm on I-15 near Lehi.
Friday, December 2, 2011
Let's Party!
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by Topher Clark (bio)
When I was a teenager I was invited to be the youth representative on my ward activities committee. Kind of a big deal, right? I took my responsibilities very seriously. I attended monthly meetings where we talked about various picnics and different ways of playing horseshoes. One year we got all serious about the ward Christmas party. This really nice lady, Sally Todd, was in charge of the committee. She asked if anyone had a good suggestion for a party theme. Nobody responded, so I suggested something which I thought was very innovative and meaningful: An Old Fashioned Christmas. Nobody else had an idea for a theme, so Sally Todd, who was very nice - she could have rolled her eyes or thrown up or something - declared that An Old Fashioned Christmas would be our theme.
I'm sure when I gave that suggestion I had some specific notions about how An Old Fashioned Christmas should go, but at that age I didn't really have the wherewithal to make that happen. I was visualizing something very Currier & Ives. Like, for instance, all of the ward members would show up in horse-drawn carriages. That kind of thing. We would all get excited over dumb stuff like oranges and butter like they do on Little Women. I thought it might really help us remember the traditions of the past; things like bells on bob tails and Miss Fanny Bright. Little did I know that our Christmas party would turn out to be the same ward Christmas party we'd had for fifty years, and the same ward Christmas party we have today. Where there are about 25 giant fold-out tables covered in rolls of paper, a lot of plastic utensils, kids causing havoc on the stage, a hastily arranged Nativity scene, and the mutual kids doing a bell choir.
I'm not being critical. With the recent dissolution of the ward activities committee, I understand that times are tough. We have to have a Christmas party, but nobody wants to plan it. So I'm here to help. But not help like plan your party. More like help by giving helpful feedback and suggestions. First the feedback.
1. You really need to make this party fun for my kids. I don't want to hold toddlers on my lap while someone sings "O Holy Night." They don't want to be held. They want Santa Claus, and you promised.
by Topher Clark (bio)
 |
| Image via Flickr. |
When I was a teenager I was invited to be the youth representative on my ward activities committee. Kind of a big deal, right? I took my responsibilities very seriously. I attended monthly meetings where we talked about various picnics and different ways of playing horseshoes. One year we got all serious about the ward Christmas party. This really nice lady, Sally Todd, was in charge of the committee. She asked if anyone had a good suggestion for a party theme. Nobody responded, so I suggested something which I thought was very innovative and meaningful: An Old Fashioned Christmas. Nobody else had an idea for a theme, so Sally Todd, who was very nice - she could have rolled her eyes or thrown up or something - declared that An Old Fashioned Christmas would be our theme.
I'm sure when I gave that suggestion I had some specific notions about how An Old Fashioned Christmas should go, but at that age I didn't really have the wherewithal to make that happen. I was visualizing something very Currier & Ives. Like, for instance, all of the ward members would show up in horse-drawn carriages. That kind of thing. We would all get excited over dumb stuff like oranges and butter like they do on Little Women. I thought it might really help us remember the traditions of the past; things like bells on bob tails and Miss Fanny Bright. Little did I know that our Christmas party would turn out to be the same ward Christmas party we'd had for fifty years, and the same ward Christmas party we have today. Where there are about 25 giant fold-out tables covered in rolls of paper, a lot of plastic utensils, kids causing havoc on the stage, a hastily arranged Nativity scene, and the mutual kids doing a bell choir.
I'm not being critical. With the recent dissolution of the ward activities committee, I understand that times are tough. We have to have a Christmas party, but nobody wants to plan it. So I'm here to help. But not help like plan your party. More like help by giving helpful feedback and suggestions. First the feedback.
1. You really need to make this party fun for my kids. I don't want to hold toddlers on my lap while someone sings "O Holy Night." They don't want to be held. They want Santa Claus, and you promised.
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Does Your Kid Light Up The Room?
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by Topher Clark (bio)
by brettmerritt (bio)
by Seattle Jon (bio)
Below are thoughts from three modern mormon men on acting and how it relates to kids.
Topher Clark
As a theatre professor, I can't tell you how many times I have parents and grandparents tell me that their child/grandchild is "so full of energy" or that he/she "really lights up the room" or that this child "is quite a character!" and this somehow equals the idea that this child is, or will be, a good actor. more after the jump
brettmerritt
I got started "late" in acting. I was 27 when I did my first play. I had no idea I would love it and that I would still be doing it at 40. I was very shy as a child and someone who thought getting up to say or do anything in front of anyone that wasn't a blood relative was akin to being drawn and quartered. more after the jump
Seattle Jon
My oldest daughter was one of those kids who refused to speak in the primary program or be recognized at her school graduations. She was terrified of other people looking at "just her." When piano lessons stopped working at age seven, we found a wonderful choir for her to participate in (if you live in the Seattle area, check them out here). She must have reasoned that choir allowed her to blend in and people came to hear the music, not to watch her sing. Soon after, she got involved with musical theater at the homeschool resource center she attends and our daughter fell in love with theater. more after the jump
by Topher Clark (bio)
by brettmerritt (bio)
by Seattle Jon (bio)
Below are thoughts from three modern mormon men on acting and how it relates to kids.
Topher Clark
As a theatre professor, I can't tell you how many times I have parents and grandparents tell me that their child/grandchild is "so full of energy" or that he/she "really lights up the room" or that this child "is quite a character!" and this somehow equals the idea that this child is, or will be, a good actor. more after the jump
brettmerritt
I got started "late" in acting. I was 27 when I did my first play. I had no idea I would love it and that I would still be doing it at 40. I was very shy as a child and someone who thought getting up to say or do anything in front of anyone that wasn't a blood relative was akin to being drawn and quartered. more after the jump
Seattle Jon
My oldest daughter was one of those kids who refused to speak in the primary program or be recognized at her school graduations. She was terrified of other people looking at "just her." When piano lessons stopped working at age seven, we found a wonderful choir for her to participate in (if you live in the Seattle area, check them out here). She must have reasoned that choir allowed her to blend in and people came to hear the music, not to watch her sing. Soon after, she got involved with musical theater at the homeschool resource center she attends and our daughter fell in love with theater. more after the jump
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
MMM Supports the Arts
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If you live in Utah or are there on vacation, check out the following before they are gone. We've been hearing great things through the grapevine.
30 Strangers Exhibit
The works of Justin Hackworth, a friend of the blog, are being featured during the month of July in the Auditorium Gallery on Level 1 of BYU's Harold B. Lee Library. The photographs are from the fourth year of the “30 Strangers” project and feature over 100 mothers and daughters from all over the United States. Instead of paying a portrait session fee, those photographed made donations to Provo’s Center for Women and Children in Crisis. Seattle Jon's wife and daughter were photographed as part of this year's project.
The Hit
Our own Topher Clark has a new hit show called ... The Hit, playing at the Hale Center Theater in Orem. Topher was either extremely confident the show would do well or else the plot centers around a hit man. Turns out, it's about a hit man, although word has it he was also confident it would be a great way to spend a summer night. Click here to learn more and to buy tickets. Hurry, the show only plays through July 30th. Oh, and we are told it is kid friendly and very, very good.
If you live in Utah or are there on vacation, check out the following before they are gone. We've been hearing great things through the grapevine.
The works of Justin Hackworth, a friend of the blog, are being featured during the month of July in the Auditorium Gallery on Level 1 of BYU's Harold B. Lee Library. The photographs are from the fourth year of the “30 Strangers” project and feature over 100 mothers and daughters from all over the United States. Instead of paying a portrait session fee, those photographed made donations to Provo’s Center for Women and Children in Crisis. Seattle Jon's wife and daughter were photographed as part of this year's project.
Our own Topher Clark has a new hit show called ... The Hit, playing at the Hale Center Theater in Orem. Topher was either extremely confident the show would do well or else the plot centers around a hit man. Turns out, it's about a hit man, although word has it he was also confident it would be a great way to spend a summer night. Click here to learn more and to buy tickets. Hurry, the show only plays through July 30th. Oh, and we are told it is kid friendly and very, very good.
Friday, June 3, 2011
Do Not Do This To Your Lawn
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by Topher Clark (bio)
If you go to Lowe's to pick up some weed killer, can I recommend that you DO NOT DO SO WHILE IMPAIRED OR DISTRACTED? I made this fatal mistake two months ago and I'm still paying for it. Doubtless you've driven by my house and seen these horrifying spots on my front lawn. Your diagnosis, Rhizoctonia Yellow Patch, is sensible and would be the same diagnosis I would make. Except I know the truth. Four weeks ago I tried to kill a bunch of dandelions with weed spray - the kind that kills grass as well!!!!
It was all a horrible mistake. I was in Lowe's expressly for the purpose of buying weed killer. It would have taken me five seconds to check the label. There are weed sprayers out there that are perfectly harmless to grass. Right now I should be enjoying a lush carpet of green like all my neighbors (well, most of my neighbors hint hint.) But instead I look out the window and I only see lesions and blight. Why would my kids play out there? It's like dancing on a field of acne. Sounds gross? You should see it! You probably have!
What was I so busy thinking about that day at Lowe's? I have no idea. Probably the Real Housewives of New Jersey. I think about that a lot. Other things I think about are:
1. What would I do if a terrorist came into this store right now? (fight or flight)
2. Why do people think all bald men look the same? Like we have the same face?
3. Popcorn
4. Why does the willow tree in my backyard keep falling over? Why can't I prop it up?
5. How am I going to tell Owen about sex in the coolest, least uncomfortable way possible?
And that's only five things. I think about a ton of things. And in the process, I distractedly buy poison, take it home and intermittently kill my lawn with it. DO NOT DO THIS. Next time you are in Lowe's, make sure you've had a good night sleep. Don't be talking on your cell phone (OR TEXTING). Don't take any kids. Shower and dress comfortably, but keep it classy. And just read the labels, you guys. Read the freaking labels.
by Topher Clark (bio)
If you go to Lowe's to pick up some weed killer, can I recommend that you DO NOT DO SO WHILE IMPAIRED OR DISTRACTED? I made this fatal mistake two months ago and I'm still paying for it. Doubtless you've driven by my house and seen these horrifying spots on my front lawn. Your diagnosis, Rhizoctonia Yellow Patch, is sensible and would be the same diagnosis I would make. Except I know the truth. Four weeks ago I tried to kill a bunch of dandelions with weed spray - the kind that kills grass as well!!!!
It was all a horrible mistake. I was in Lowe's expressly for the purpose of buying weed killer. It would have taken me five seconds to check the label. There are weed sprayers out there that are perfectly harmless to grass. Right now I should be enjoying a lush carpet of green like all my neighbors (well, most of my neighbors hint hint.) But instead I look out the window and I only see lesions and blight. Why would my kids play out there? It's like dancing on a field of acne. Sounds gross? You should see it! You probably have!
What was I so busy thinking about that day at Lowe's? I have no idea. Probably the Real Housewives of New Jersey. I think about that a lot. Other things I think about are:
1. What would I do if a terrorist came into this store right now? (fight or flight)
2. Why do people think all bald men look the same? Like we have the same face?
3. Popcorn
4. Why does the willow tree in my backyard keep falling over? Why can't I prop it up?
5. How am I going to tell Owen about sex in the coolest, least uncomfortable way possible?
And that's only five things. I think about a ton of things. And in the process, I distractedly buy poison, take it home and intermittently kill my lawn with it. DO NOT DO THIS. Next time you are in Lowe's, make sure you've had a good night sleep. Don't be talking on your cell phone (OR TEXTING). Don't take any kids. Shower and dress comfortably, but keep it classy. And just read the labels, you guys. Read the freaking labels.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
In Character: Bishopric Edition
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by Topher Clark (bio)
As some of you might know, I am a counselor in a bishopric. Please do not let this sway or alter your testimony in any way. I didn't ask to do it, and I barely voted for myself. God calls in mysterious ways, and I've always been taught that you never say no to a calling (except working at the cannery.) In this first year of of my bishopric I have learned three important things:
1. Everyone sustains the bishop once a year at ward conference, and then the rest of the year three quarters of the ward complain about him.
2. The best part of my job is class hopping. Is sunday school boring today? How about a visit to the Primary! Is today a Deacon's Quorum kinda day? Or do I feel more like hanging out with the membership clerks? I love that.
3. You do NOT grow a beard in a bishopric. Despite there being nothing said about this in any current manual or ecclesiastical degree, THERE WILL BE NO BEARDS. Don't even imagine the possibility of a beard on your face. If your face is even a little bit scratchy you have irrevocably changed the face of the gospel for every old lady in your ward.
But one of the most important lessons I've learned is the "bishopric face." You learn this very quickly, because you have to. You must never show unrestrained emotion on the stand. Because 500 people are staring at you, and they want to know what you think. Almost all the time, someone is staring at you. Don't dispute this! I see you doing it. You take turns. You want to see if we like something, or don't like something, or are in any way super uncomfortable. And guess what? We're not going to break. You cannot break our faces. But if you are patient, and acutely observant, you'll see little cracks of emotion peeking through.
Herewith, then, is a little how-to pictorial to let you know what we are really feeling up there. Watch closely. These pictures are almost indistinguishable:
Ope! Someone just made a "Brother Clark is bald" joke! My favorite. I support your "jokes" and I hope they really kickstart your talk. Just remember, your bum is in my face and I could make "jokes" about that! (I won't.)
by Topher Clark (bio)
As some of you might know, I am a counselor in a bishopric. Please do not let this sway or alter your testimony in any way. I didn't ask to do it, and I barely voted for myself. God calls in mysterious ways, and I've always been taught that you never say no to a calling (except working at the cannery.) In this first year of of my bishopric I have learned three important things:
1. Everyone sustains the bishop once a year at ward conference, and then the rest of the year three quarters of the ward complain about him.
2. The best part of my job is class hopping. Is sunday school boring today? How about a visit to the Primary! Is today a Deacon's Quorum kinda day? Or do I feel more like hanging out with the membership clerks? I love that.
3. You do NOT grow a beard in a bishopric. Despite there being nothing said about this in any current manual or ecclesiastical degree, THERE WILL BE NO BEARDS. Don't even imagine the possibility of a beard on your face. If your face is even a little bit scratchy you have irrevocably changed the face of the gospel for every old lady in your ward.
But one of the most important lessons I've learned is the "bishopric face." You learn this very quickly, because you have to. You must never show unrestrained emotion on the stand. Because 500 people are staring at you, and they want to know what you think. Almost all the time, someone is staring at you. Don't dispute this! I see you doing it. You take turns. You want to see if we like something, or don't like something, or are in any way super uncomfortable. And guess what? We're not going to break. You cannot break our faces. But if you are patient, and acutely observant, you'll see little cracks of emotion peeking through.
Herewith, then, is a little how-to pictorial to let you know what we are really feeling up there. Watch closely. These pictures are almost indistinguishable:
Ope! Someone just made a "Brother Clark is bald" joke! My favorite. I support your "jokes" and I hope they really kickstart your talk. Just remember, your bum is in my face and I could make "jokes" about that! (I won't.)
Friday, April 15, 2011
Birthing Plan
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by Topher Clark (bio)
I feel strongly impressed to write about what a man is supposed to do to help his wife in labor. The problem is that I'm the worst at birthing. You would think that, having been through it five times, I would have some kind of insight into how to make the baby come out easier, or stop the screaming, or make the nurses come to the room any quicker when you push the button. I've taken the Lamaze class so I should have some idea about how to help, but that was thirteen years ago and I only remember that you are supposed to get all up in your wife's face and count, and I have since learned that this is NOT A GOOD IDEA.
Which leads me to think that I would be more effective at giving pointers about what not to do, since basically we men need to be completely unobtrusive during the birthing, whether we know it or not. It's really not about us, fellas. I know you took your little class and it's supposedly your baby, but still. This isn't your moment to call the shots and make "helpful" comments. Mostly you need to be present, positive, and accept whatever demands are made of you. These demands may include "please-hold-my-hand-and-let-
me-squeeze-yours-for-support," but they may also involve "Please-turn-the-channel-Glee-just-came-on-and-my-now-my-baby-won't-come-out."
All of my children were born in good old-fashioned hospitals. I know that women make many different birthing choices, and that these days anything goes as long as the baby eventually emerges. I respect that, but I should confess that hospital deliveries are all I know, so I will be very little help here to you gentlemen if your wife decides to give birth in a hayloft or on some kind of bobsled. You can take whichever of my suggestions fit your birthing plan, and I wish you the best of luck!
by Topher Clark (bio)
I feel strongly impressed to write about what a man is supposed to do to help his wife in labor. The problem is that I'm the worst at birthing. You would think that, having been through it five times, I would have some kind of insight into how to make the baby come out easier, or stop the screaming, or make the nurses come to the room any quicker when you push the button. I've taken the Lamaze class so I should have some idea about how to help, but that was thirteen years ago and I only remember that you are supposed to get all up in your wife's face and count, and I have since learned that this is NOT A GOOD IDEA.
Which leads me to think that I would be more effective at giving pointers about what not to do, since basically we men need to be completely unobtrusive during the birthing, whether we know it or not. It's really not about us, fellas. I know you took your little class and it's supposedly your baby, but still. This isn't your moment to call the shots and make "helpful" comments. Mostly you need to be present, positive, and accept whatever demands are made of you. These demands may include "please-hold-my-hand-and-let-
me-squeeze-yours-for-support," but they may also involve "Please-turn-the-channel-Glee-just-came-on-and-my-now-my-baby-won't-come-out."
All of my children were born in good old-fashioned hospitals. I know that women make many different birthing choices, and that these days anything goes as long as the baby eventually emerges. I respect that, but I should confess that hospital deliveries are all I know, so I will be very little help here to you gentlemen if your wife decides to give birth in a hayloft or on some kind of bobsled. You can take whichever of my suggestions fit your birthing plan, and I wish you the best of luck!
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