Speak to the king within the man...

I’m not really a fan of sentimental books, but I read one a few years ago that had a real pearl of wisdom nestled in some dialogue in the middle of the book. More than the story itself, this exchange between two characters is what I remember most.

The book is called ‘The Timepiece’ by Richard Paul Evens. It’s a story about a man who has a fascination with clocks, anywhere from pocket watches to grandfather clocks. I’ll leave out any more details surrounding the story in case you want to read it. For a good half the book we really don’t understand why he has this love for the ticker, but in the following exchange with his new bride, he explains his fascination. This is the pearl of wisdom that I speak.

“May I tell you why I wanted to give you a clock?”

She turned to her groom. “There is greater significance than its beauty?”

David stared into the clocks face. “You once asked me why I collect clocks.”

MaryAnne nodded.

“I have given this question a great deal of thought since then. A clock is a strange invention. A collection of cogs and gears that are always in motion, yet accomplish nothing. Not like a pump that provides water, or a cotton gin that leaves something useful. A clock just moves without thought or meaning - - worthless without interpretation.” His eyes focused on the clock in condemnation. “It’s just motion.”

I’ll stop there because the rest gets mushy as he explains how his life was so much like a clock, just movement without meaning. That is until she came along.

Let me expound a little bit on the clock. Isn’t it amazing how the world is run completely by the clock? Every aspect of our lives is dictated by the ticker. We wake up when it tells us to, we go to work, lunch and home when it tells us to. We experience anxiety if it tells us we’re late. We feel at peace if it tells us we have a few minutes to spare. By all accounts we live by it. Yet, it’s not the clock that runs us; after all it’s just a mechanical instrument with perpetually moving parts. It is our interpretation of the object that controls us.

Maybe this struck me so hard because of my profession. It is very easy to see a business much like a clock. It has a bunch of moving parts, like employee’s making sales, costumers buying products, systems managing inventory, billing systems sending payments out, payment systems accepting payments. These are all just pieces of a business that feed their information into large databases. It is my job to extract that data and present it to executives in a way that they can apply their own interpretation to understand how their business is doing. Are they making money? What products are selling best? What types of customers are late with payments? This is business intelligence which is the field in which I work.

On a deeper level, and more to the point of the book, the clock relates to man. We are sent to this earth to gain a body. A body is a compilation of heart, bones, skin, nerves, blood and many other organs working in unison to provide our spirits with a vehicle to exist here on earth. It is what we do with ourselves while here that provide others with the interpretation of who we are. Are we wasting our opportunity? Are we doing everything we can to emulate the Savior? Do others see the Savior in us, or do others see us as judgmental, unethical, dishonest, or anything other than what we wish them to see?

I used to work in downtown phoenix and would see many of the city’s homeless on a regular basis. On one occasion while walking from the parking structure to my office, I saw a man who was so emaciated that it was a shock to see him upright. He wore a pair of ripped jeans that hung way below his hips. He was shirtless and shoeless. His skin was like leather and his eyes were deep behind his cheek bones. His face was lifeless as he sauntered toward me. With one hand, he held up his pants. With the other he held an empty plastic cup. I would bet that my interpretation of him at that moment was a far cry from what he wanted for himself at better times in his life.

As I walked by, I tried to get his attention with my gaze, but he would not make eye contact. I had a five in my pocket so I pulled it out and placed it in his cup. He didn’t say anything and barely acknowledged my existence. He was too tired to even nod. The mechanical pieces of his body were slowing down. His clock was breaking. It was almost as if he wasn’t going to live long enough to spend those five dollars. I thought about him that entire day and an awful lot since. I wondered what went wrong in his life. What led him to such a low point? In all likelihood he would die on a street with no one around him. No one would even know he had passed until well after, and who’s to say they would even care? This is a sad case of the gift of life being tossed away like a bad gallon of milk.

Many people end up this way through a series of bad choices, whether it is drugs and alcohol, or crime. Some get there through very little fault of their own, as mental illness or a pitiful childhood can be the culprit. If you’re like me and can say you have been given very favorable circumstances in life and a fine hand dealt your way, make the most of it. Lift others. Serve man. Love your family. Who are we to squander such a powerful opportunity to be the best we can?

We have free agency, the most powerful of all gifts. It gives us complete control to say and do as we wish. And back to time, as a friend of mine recently said, it is all we really, truly own.



On a side note, for mother’s day I decided to send Nik, her sister and her mother to a resort for the night. I checked Travelocity and found the Mesa Golf Resort for a relatively low price. The website said it was a four star, so I thought ‘hey, for that price, I’ll take it.’ Besides, it was close to home. Well, my friends, it was a dive. I guess everything was outdated, the bedding was dirty, it smelled, the carpet with filthy, not at all what I expected from a four star. So, of all the things Nik could have taken a picture of for proof of its subpar status, she chose to take a picture of the clock. Strange, I know. The picture above is the one she took. There has to be some relationship between the topic of this post and that picture, but I’ll leave that one alone. Just too deep for me.

Take a look at this. This is very telling on how Obama wants to reshape America. When you hear words like marxist in connection with Obama, you have to at the very least be a little concerned, even if you are a supporter. Find out for yourself why some of the brightest minds in our country fear this man. Dont be fooled by charisma.

Sometimes something on YouTube makes its way to your computer that just resonates. So here’s to capturing the best of the week.

This week, since it's football season and I love football almost as much as I love my pillow at 6:05 when the alarm goes off, I thought I would post an oldie but a goodie. So without further adu, I give you George Carlin (I know he's a dirty, foul mouthed old man. Just not in this one). He so perfectly explains the difference between football and baseball. It's very appropriate given the time of year. Baseball playoffs and college football well underway.



SAFE AT HOME! SAFE AT HOME!

As hard as I try, I can’t for the life of me remove our current economical conundrum from the forefront of my mind. Perhaps it is because this is the first of its kind that I have had a vested interest in. As a thirty-something, I was too busy growing my hair out in the early nineties to care about that downturn and I was much too young to even know of the mess we were in prior to Reaganomics. Having a wife and four little ones who rely on me for food, shelter and above all else, safety, sure sits heavy on my small shoulders. Perhaps this is why I am so un-nerved by everything. The future is way too gray to be anything but concerned. One thing that is certain is our nation is turning more and more socialistic every week. We are abandoning capitalism, which has been the basis of our rise to global dominance. Let me pontificate a bit on capitalism, why it is slipping away from us and why we should care.

Capitalism is the economic engine that drives entrepreneurism. It is what gives incentive for men and women to create, to invent, to risk, to invest, to work for something greater than them. Capitalism, by nature, is when the individual controls his or her own destiny through resource and ethic. It is the farmer owning his land and fighting tooth and nail to produce the best crop he can. By so doing he creates something better for society at a lower cost. Capitalism creates ingenuity which lowers the cost of production. That, in turn, creates competitive pricing which is enjoyed by the consumer. Another example is Little Creasers Pizza. They realized that by lowering the cost of a large pepperoni to 5 bucks, they could increase volume more than enough to offset the price cut and enjoy an increase in profits. And now the Lovin’s can run up the street on a Friday night and drop a five spot to feed our kids while we (the parents) go to Costa Vida for a yummie, slightly more expensive burrito. If we get sick of Little Ceasers Pizza, on Wednesday nights Hungry Howies offers a large pepperoni for 5 bucks also. Ah, the competitive market at work. This is capitalism. Without capitalism, you have Africa, a terribly stunted third world country. Without capitalism, you have France, the most disrespected, passive nation in all of Europe. And without capitalism, you have socialism. Socialism is just one small step away from communism. Remember Mussolini? He was a socialist.

So why rant about capitalism? Isn’t America rooted in capitalism? Yes….and no. Capitalism is what our economic system was founded on. It created the industrial revolution, and the dotcom era. It carried us through the Great Depression and made our country economically strong after WWII. It helped produce the greatest country on earth. But slowly and steadily, we are seeing socialism weave its way into our economy. Let me just say that I was hoping the government would pass the 700 billion dollar bailout. However, when you look at it without panic glasses, you’ll see that with the bailout will come mounds of government regulations on the banking industry (not to mention a ginormous tax burden for me and my posterity). After all, the government wants to prevent this credit crisis from happening again and now they have ownership where they shouldn't. When you have that kind of governement regulation, you have a socialist banking system. They have already begun talks of nationalizing banking. This is bad news. This is a great way to stunt the main source of capitol for any thriving business. Without the ability to borrow in order to invest in the future of your business, you lose, your business loses and consequently, the public loses. Why on earth should we let the government tell us how to lend money? That's like a surgeon telling a baker how to raise dough. It never works. Just ask the people of Africa. Let the people decide how to borrow money. Let the banks decide, through trial and error, how to lend money. When banks fail because of poor practices, let them learn from their mistakes. They will be stronger in the end and so will our banking system. Let the borrower learn what frugality means. Failure is the best form of training. We as a people can gain an awful lot of wisdom from this crisis just like our grandparents did from the great depression, but not if the government steps in and puts training wheels on our bikes so we don’t skin our knees again. How am I supposed to learn to jump my dang bike with training wheels on? I guess at least I can ride in a circle without the fear of getting a boo boo.

But I digress. Now, back to socialism. Socialism produces mediocrity. Why would one guy want to work harder than the guy next to him, who is getting paid just as much, but doing far less, especially when there is no monetary gain in doing so? Now here is the dangerous and downright scary part of this whole mess. When we become too socialist and thus turn out a mediocre commerce system, the worth of the American dollar will plummet. With a weak dollar you get massive inflation. A head of lettuce will cost 17 dollars. Ever heard of a peso? No difference. With a worthless dollar the trillions of dollars of our national debt that is owned by China and other countries via treasury funds and the like will be called on for repayment. China will no longer believe in our economy and will see little value in owning our debt. This is no different than a stock holder selling off when he realizes a company’s profits are headed for the toilet. The problem is how are we ever going to pay it off? THEY’LL RAISE INCOME TAXES. Ouch!!! We will have to pay up eventually. And I am thinking that won’t be pleasant.

Now, I hate politics. I hate the game more than most. But, Barack Obama will turn this country into a socialist nation before his first four years are up. He wants to regulate and over tax small business with income over 250K. He said in the last debate that something like 80 to 90 percent of small business’s fall below that mark. How dumb is that? Sure maybe the laundromat on the corner or the landscaper up the street, but any real business that produces substantially for our economy and carries a payroll most certainly tops 250K. This is socialism to the very core. I would bet that most of those entrepreneurs who start with an idea, have hopes of making more than 250. What incentive do they have now if they know they are going to be penalized in the form of ridiculous taxes for reaching that point? If this doesn’t promote mediocrity than I don’t know what else does. WE ARE NOT A MEDIOCRE NATION! This is only one of many reason not to vote for Mr. Obama. I don’t know enough to cast any more stones (except the partial birth abortion insanity that he is for, which deserves a bolder shot from a catapult), so I’ll stop there.

In closing let me just say that I am guilty of being an Olympic Patriot. I’m very patriotic every two years when the Olympics rolls around. But, I know enough to hate what is going on with our country, and I love my country enough to be worried. I’m not one to say we are headed for the end. But a socialist America would certainly be the beginning of it.

Once upon a time there lived a boy named Jack.
He lived with his mother and his best friend cow named Milky White

One day Jack's mom said to him, "You must take Milky White to market".

"But no, he's my best friend", Jack said.

But his mom convinced him.

On his way to market he met a man who had six magic beans.

He asked, "Jack is your cow for sale."

"Yes", Jack said.

"How about six magic beans."

"Magic beans? Are you CRAZY?"

But the man convinced him they were magic.

When he got home his mother said "Jack did you sell your cow?"

"Yeah, for six magic beans."

"Magic beans? Are you CRAZY??" and she took the beans, threw them in the front yard and sent Jack to bed with no supper.

The next morning when Jack woke up, he looked out the window and saw a big giant bean stock stretching up to the sky. He said, "I'm going to climb it."

So he gathered his things and started to climb. Up, up, up the bean stock and he poked his head through the clouds.

He looked around and saw a big giant castle, with a big giant front door. So he ran to it and knocked.

Inside he heard "fee fi foe fum!!" and the giant door opened up and a big giant stepped out. Jack hid behind the door.

When the giant saw no one he went inside and Jack slid in behind. He looked around the castle and saw a big giant table, and big giant couch and a big giant TV and a big giant chair, and a big giant toilet and a big giant refrigerator... and a hen that laid golden eggs.

"We're rich!!" he said and he grabbed the hen, but he bumped the chair and the giant heard him!

Jack took the hen and ran for the door. He ran as fast as he could and the giant started chasing him "Fee fi foe fum, fee fi foe fum, fee fi foe fum."

Jack ran to the bean stock and went down, down, down, the bean stock.

The giant made it to the bean stock and started down. "Fee fi foe fum, fee fi foe fum, fee fi foe fum.

Jack made it down and ran inside his house and grabbed a hatched and started whacking on the bean stock. Whack! Whack! Whack!

And the giant went down the bean stock down, down, down,

And Jack whacked, Whack, Whack--Crack

TIMBER!!!!!

CRASH!!!

And the giant died and Jack lived happily ever after, the end.

Kids: Did the giant really die?

Dad: No but him and Jack became best friends.

This is, verbatim, the story that I have told Jaden, Allie, Graham and Marcie about five hundred times before bed and that is not an exaggeration. I started it with Jaden when he was but a wee toddler and it has been going on ever since. I know it word for word. The kids know it word for word, yet they still want to hear it, night after night. Even down to the end. "Did the giant really die?" I can count on that. I can also count on a correction if I change a single sentence.

So what is it about the story that makes them want to hear it over and over? They know the outcome. They know it beginning to end, so it's certainly not the suspense of it all. This has puzzled me, and at times, unnerved me. "What is with these kids and that stupid story?" To honestly know that answer one would have to climb inside their little minds and see what they see. I'll pass on that one.

I am left with my own conclussions and this is what I'll go with. I don’t think their infatuation lies in the story itself, but rather the teller.

Here's what I mean. I think it’s the five extra minutes with Dad and not five minutes with Jack that they crave. It's dad's elbows on their bed and his face close to theirs. It's his voice changing inflection like a crazy lunatic. It's his goofy faces as he hollers "fee fi foe fum! Fee fie foe fum!!" It’s his karate chop on his arm as he whacks down the bean stock. And most of all, it's their desire to stretch that three hours they get to be with their old man just five minutes more. To them, it's a perfect way to say goodnight to another day. It's added security as they close their eyes on their world. IT’S THEIR COMFORT BLANKET. Who am I to ever take that away from them?

Maybe I'm way off base. More than likely there is some child psychologist out there that can give a more scientific answer to this infatuation. If there is, I don’t want to hear it. I'll stick with mine. Maybe it's self indulgent or egotistical of me to think this. If it is, I'm cool with that.

In the past six years, I have spent many hours creating make believe through fiction writing. It is challenging, enjoyable and most of the time difficult. As a novice author, one of the greatest challenges in composing reality from fiction is creating authentic, three dimensional characters. Without this, the protagonist in a story fails to capture the interested of the reader. If you fail to capture the reader, even the greatest story in the world will be nothing more that black ink on a white page. What would the Harry Potter series be without tangible characters? Probably just a dumb book about silly magic. But, because we can relate to Harry, Dumbledore and Ron, we become entranced in THEIR tale, and not a tale written by some British woman.

So how does an author create such textured characters? There are many methods out there, but one that I have adopted is the list approach. This is done by mapping out your character in a list of traits first. Maybe Tommy is simple minded, compassionate, uneasy about change, giving, short tempered, big for his age, goofy, and so on. Once you have a list of what your character is all about, the next step would be to expound upon each attribute in that list until you have a well defined character. This is the easy part. The difficulty comes in applying this to the situations and experiences that this character encounters in your story. An example would be if we had Tommy witness a fight at school where a bully is beating on a smaller kid. How would he react? Well, we know he’s compassionate so he may want to help the poor kid. He’s simple minded so he’d probably act first, and think later. He’s big and strong so he could certainly help. Conclusion; Tommy must jump in and defend the poor sap! If we had Tommy laugh at the situation like the rest of the kids watching the fight, we contradict what Tommy is all about and he becomes a non-believable character.

So what does all of this really mean? Consider yourself as the protagonist in your life’s story. What do you want to be? Who do you want to be? What characteristics define you? I think we all do this on occasion. Sometimes we even take the list approach and map out what we want to be. Here is my list:

1. Loving Husband
2. A best friend to Nik
3. Loving Father
4. Disciplinarian to my children
5. Honorable priesthood holder
6. Much more giving
7. A reliable, hard working consultant
8. An organized assistant coach
9. A compassionate, helpful son.
10. An organized, diligent ward clerk
11. One who does not judge others
12. Seeker of gospel knowledge

Now, just as in fiction writing, I must apply these traits to every situation I am faced with. Would an honorable priesthood holder listen to that song? Would a disciplinarian ignore Jaden punching Graham in the melon (that doesnt happen)? Would a diligent ward clerk procrastinate doing the quarterly report(neither does that)? Would a loving husband tell his wife her pants are less than flattering(and certainly not that)?

I know that if I can live to my list, I can create a believable me. That is the goal, isn’t it? To become what you WANT to be? We have been given the wonderful gift of free agency to do just that. Become, through our actions, what we want to be.

As I was sitting in priesthood session of this weekend’s general conference (more on this in a minute), I was once again amazed at the memory of President Monson. It is a true wonder how he can recall so many experiences from his past and tie them to a gospel theme. I suspect that President Monson has a well above average memory, but more than that, I would bet he has volumes upon volumes of journals that he draws from. Within my own earthly existance, there are numerous experiences that I wish to capture in words. It is in this cause that I begin this blog.

Now,back to conference. I told Nik that all too often we are blessed with that resonating spirit of conference that tells us that we can do better, but in the coming months, weeks, and sometimes days, that spirit wanes until it only briefly shows itself in the form of a home teaching message or maybe a sacrament talk. So, it is my challenge to keep that resolve to do a little better, that spirit that comes from hearing the testimonies of the Lord's anointed, at the forefront of my mind. With a concerted effort, maybe it will stay with me through this holiday season and last long enough to create a much better Darren. And come April, I will be ready for another dose.