Personality Parade

Tonight I went to an activity in which people were supposed to taken a version of the Color Code Personality Test. You can learn about it at www.thecolorcode.com. According to this system there are four basic personality types - - red, blue, white, and, yellow. I've had occasion to take this test a few times over the past several years, the tests consistently yield the same result, and the results ring true for me. You can take the test for free at the website. Try it out. See what insights you might learn about yourself, about others, and about the way you relate to other people. If you enjoy this, you might try the Myers-Briggs approach as well (See www.personalitypathways.com). Myers-Briggs has 16 personality types. We once took the Myers-Briggs test at work, and a colleague posted the test results for each individual on his office door for ease of reference. Note: This relates to an experience I had on March 11, but I wrote and posted this on March 27 and 28, 2006.

Simon Says

The dean of the law school warned us. He warned us that as our legal education progressed we would become very discriminating listeners, that we would become expert at spotting flaws in our classmates’ remarks as our professors grilled them in front of the class, and that for a time we might fail to appreciate talks and lessons in Church as our minds would be drawn to imperfections in the logic or other aspects of the presentations. His warning was warranted, for it described my experience perfectly. Today, years after law school, I sat in a Church meeting in which a member of the congregration sang a solo musical number. I found myself asking what Simon would have to say about this performance - - my mind had been conditioned by a few recent viewings of American Idol. Note: This relates to an experience I had on March 11, but I wrote and originally posted this on March 27, 2006.

Chick Flick Festival

The long-awaited festival occurred tonight in my condo. Present were 3 guys (including myself) and 3 “chicks.” The women brought a few movies to choose from, and we watched “Return to Me.” A highlight occurred when everyone settled in to watch the movie. One of the women pulled out a miniature package of Kleenex, opened it, and then had it available for all to use - - before the movie even started. Another highlight was the frequent use of the Kleenex. Note: This relates to an experience of March 11, but I wrote this on March 26, 2006, and posted this entry on March 27, 2006.

Payson Place

An LDS stake in Payson, Utah held a clinic this Saturday morning for Spanish-speaking members of the community. The majority of the clinic provided various health care services, but the clinic also provided information on English classes, employment services, and legal help. I was one of four people on the legal panel. My friend David was on the panel – he is the city attorney in Payson and learned Spanish on a mission to Puerto Rico. An attorney from a Salt Lake City firm, who also learned Spanish on his mission, was also there. Maria, another panel member, is a licensed attorney in Bolivia. Surprisingly, not on person asked for help with intellectual property or software licensing issues, so I was of minimal help. This was the first time the clinic had been held, but it was well attended and the participants seemed to enjoy the event. Note: This relates to an experience of March 11, but I wrote this on March 26, 2006, and posted in on March 27, 2006.

Hoop Dreams

The basketball court of Littleton’s Grant Junior High School was formerly the school’s swimming pool. The court was undersized, the bleachers at the floor and balcony level came right up to the edge of the court, the backboards at each end were affixed directly to the walls. Our uniforms were old, worn out, and - - purple. I rode the bench during a home game in which our team was being routed, but the bleachers were still full. Toward the end of the debacle my coach put me into the game. I got the ball at about mid-court, took the ball just inside of where the 3-point one would be today, let the ball fly, and hit nothing but net. The home crowd erupted in cheers, certainly asking themselves why this player had not been put in the game earlier. I soon had the ball again, got to the same spot from which I had shot the ball before, let the ball fly, and hit - - nothing. It was an air ball! The fans had their answer . . . This is one of the memories that was triggered as a result of my visit with my younger brother tonight. As we ate dinner in a Chili's restaurant in Salt Lake City we recalled our time at the Federal Youth Detention Center just west of Denver. Well, we were there just once or twice to participate in a sports competition hosted at the facility. Our all-white Church basketball team from suburbia encountered an all-black team of detainees in a memorable matchup. We had some pretty good athletes on our team, but the detainee team was formidable. Early in the game I got the ball on the wing, to the right of the top of the key, and saw an opening to the basket. I drove toward the basket, and a couple of opposing players closed in on me. I jumped toward the basket, rotated in midair to avoid getting my shot blocked, and with my back to the basket banked in a two-handed shot. I’m sure our opponents concluded they needed to keep an eye on me. We were routed, and I don’t believe I made another shot. This same Church team would play its Church league games on Saturday mornings, and from time to time would have a practice during the week. We had a number of non-LDS friends from school that would play on the team with us. These cross-cultural exchanges were fruitful in several ways. Our friends would make some humorous, at times irreverent, observations about our fellow Church members or even our religion. At times we got to learn about their religions. While riding in the car of one of my friends, I came across some printed lyrics for songs he would sing with his church group: “Give me gas in my Ford, keep me trucking for the Lord . . . Give me gumption in my unction, let me function, function, function!” These friends were typically some of our best players as well. My younger brother was on the team. In Junior High School or so, he began to part his hair down the middle, and he wore his hair that way for quite some time. One day, as I observed the pronounced nature of the part in his hair, I told him it looked as if he had parted his hair with a blowtorch. He thus acquired the nickname of “Blowtorch,” which was often shortened to “Torch.” During games, when Doug was on the floor, teammates would call out “Blow Torch” or “Torch” to him, which must have sounded somewhat odd to our opponents. Doug had grown quite tall (6' 3" or so) during High School, and had developed a rather unusual jump shot. At the time the Denver Nuggets had a player named Anthony “Woosie” Roberts, who had won the NCAA scoring title while at Oral Roberts (sadly, Woosie died at a young age after his NBA career). Doug’s shot was similar to that of Woosie in that it involved an unorthodox windup in which the ball is taken back by the right side of head, but I’m not sure how far the similarities went beyond that. Paul, one of our non-LDS teammates and an excellent player, had somewhat of a crackly voice that he often used to whine when lamenting one irritation or another - - we nicknamed him “Froggy” after a frog-voiced character from the Our Gang or Little Rascals series. From time to time, when Blowtorch would rise for one of his unorthodox jump shots, Froggy would plead “Don’t Torch-er me!” The term "unorthodox" could be applied to certain aspects of my game as well. During one of our Saturday morning games I found myself at mid-court. I felt at home there, I could see all of the action in front of me, just like when I would play free safety in Little League or High School football. I was never really a basketball player, I suppose, but a football player trying to act like basketball player. This particular season our coach was Lance, a high school basketball player and only two years older than I. Lance lived and breathed sports, especially basketball. So there I was, at mid-court, an opposing player had gotten behind me, and he was streaking toward the basket. I heard Lance yell “Get him, Jones!” I turned, established my angle of pursuit, and intercepted the player just inside the key as he was preparing to shoot a lay-up. The ball never got anywhere near the basket - - I had plowed into the player, relying on a technique I had used to break up many a pass on the football field. My opponent was uninjured and amused, the officials were outraged, Lance was speechless, and I was ejected. Oops. I later learned that the next day, Sunday morning, the local Church leadership council (the High Council) had seriously considered kicking me out of Church sports. When one of our LDS teammates, Mark, was about 15 or 16 years old, he officiated a game in the deacon’s basketball tournament (deacon’s are typically young men who are 12 or 13). As a player, Mark had possibly earned a technical or two, and may have even been ejected from a game. Not surprisingly, the crowd at a deacon’s basketball game would be comprised primarily of parents and siblings, and during the course of this particular game Mark had made some calls that had some of the parents up in arms. As the LDS Church has a lay clergy, most of the parents held local Church positions of one sort or another. One of Mark’s most vocal critics during the game was a man who was in a local Church leadership position of some kind, possibly on the High Council. I was not present during the game, but the following day my friends and I were greatly amused to learn that Mark had ejected the man from the gym! Note: I had dinner with my brother on March 10, in which we spoke of some of our basketball memories, and I wrote this entry on March 24, 2006 and March 25, 2006.

Gidget

Today I was visiting with a co-worker about my upcoming Chick Flick Festival. She was a Southern California surfer as a young woman, which may be why she told me about the Gidget movies of the 1960s. Now who could resist seeing a movie that has characters named Gidget, Moondoggie, Stinky, Hot Shot, and The Big Kahuna? Here is some information from Wikipedia. Gidget is the nickname of Frances Lawrence, a teenage character adapted for film and television from a novel by Frederick Kohner. The original Gidget was created by Kohner in his 1957 novel Gidget, The Little Girl With the Big Ideas, written in the first person and based on the accounts of his daughter Kathy of the surf culture of Malibu Point . . . In the late 1950s and early 1960s, the character Gidget was adapted for three films, all directed by Paul Wendkos: · Gidget (1959), starring Sandra Dee. · Gidget Goes Hawaiian (1961), starring Deborah Walley. · Gidget Goes to Rome (1963), starring Cindy Carol. NOTE: I had this experience on March 9, but wrote this entry on March 24, 2006.

The Power of Suggestion?

I ate at a cafeteria today. As we grow up most of us come to realize when we need to wash our hands. In a part of the cafeteria where workers prepare or serve food there was a poster that described just those types of circumstances, and in prominent text stated "Think about washing your hands." NOTE: I had this experience on March 8, but wrote this on March 24, 2006.

Street Rep

If there are any among my vast readership who read my February 24 entry and went away believing I am an easy mark, they need to think again. Today I entered a conference room we had scheduled for a meeting, but others were already in the room. I asked what they were doing there, a jaded man looked at me from behind the screen of his notebook computer, and then dispassionately asserted that his group had scheduled the room through the next thirty minutes. I looked at his impassive eyes, and concluded he was not going to say another word. I quickly checked the online schedule for the building, and saw that my group was the only group scheduled for the room. I so advised the man, he sensed my resolve, and the intruders departed without further incident. Note: I had this experience on March 7, and posted this writing on March 22, 2006.

A Conundrum

I recently concocted a hypothetical situation that I have posed to several single women, and I have been surprised at their near-inability to grapple with the question. The hypothetical is admittedly derived in part from a Seinfeld episode in which Jerry and Elaine arrange a blind date for George and a friend of Elaine. The hypothetical is something like this: Suppose you know two men, you approve of both of them, you find them attractive, you are very interested in them, and they are very interested in you. However, it seems the two men are identical in every way, so you find it impossible to choose between the two. As you struggle with your need to make a choice, you learn that the two men are different, but in only one way - - one can jump significantly higher than the other. Which man do you choose? Why? Note: This relates to an experience of March 6, but I posted this on March 22, 2006.

Customers who bought this also bought

A counselor in the bishopric of my LDS ward recommended a book titled “Yearning for the Living God: Reflections from the Life of F. Enzio Busche.” The book is authored by F. Enzio Busche and Tracie A. Lamb, the latter having edited the book. I looked up the book at www.amazon.com and pulled up this description: F. Enzio Busche, emeritus member of the First Quorum of the Seventy, was born in Germany in 1930, three years before Hitler's rise to power. Fifteen years later, when World War II ended, Enzio was a prisoner of war, having been drafted into the German army at age fourteen. The war left Enzio with many questions: Is there a God? What is the purpose of life? What happens after death? In time, he learned the answers. "Yearning for the Living God" is a collection of Elder Busche's experiences - both before and after his conversion - and an account of the life-changing awakening that can come to all who search for truth in this world. Amazon also provided a list of books under the heading “Customers who bought this also bought.” I was surprised by one book on the list, but I don’t know whether you would be. The books listed were: * "Joseph Smith : Rough Stone Rolling" by Richard Lyman Bushman (note: Joseph Smith was the founder of the LDS Church) * "By the Hand of Mormon : The American Scripture that Launched a New World Religion" by Terryl L. Givens (note: LDS Church members believe that the Book of Mormon is scripture) * "The Peacegiver: How Christ Offers to Heal Hearts and Homes" by James L. Ferrell (note: the full name of the LDS Church is “The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints") * "David O. McKay and the Rise of Modern Mormonism" by Gregory A Prince (note: David O. McKay was the 9th president of the LDS Church) * "Runny Babbit: A Billy Sook" by Shel Silverstein (note: the review by Amazon notes that this book is for children ages 7 to 12, that Shel Silverstein is a children’s poet who created “Where the Sidewalk Ends” and “A Light in the Attic.”) NOTE: This entry relates to an experience on March 5, but was posted on March 22, 2005.

Stream of Consciousness

Thoughts that crossed my mind during tonight’s Utah Symphony program titled “Echoes in Aqua,” featuring Mozart’s “Water Music” and Ralph Vaughn Williams’ “A Sea Symphony:” . . . a bass violinist is chewing gum . . . where does a conductor learn all of the little gestures that go along with taking a bow . . . this Ralph Vaughn Williams guy has pretty pedestrian lyrics to go along with his music . . . part of this thing sounds kind of like the Village People’s “In the Navy,” but not as good . . . wait a second, according to the program notes the lyrics are entirely taken from the works of Walt Whitman . . . in my home town there is an elementary school named after Whitman, but his works still seem pretty lame . . . one of the male violinists has long hair like a rock star, weird . . . the vocal soloists are staring straight ahead without expression except for when they sing, what are they thinking about . . . hey, I get it, “Water Music” and “A Sea Symphony,” there is kind of a water theme to all of this . . . when are vocalists expected to memorize everything, and when can they get away with just reading everything, like they’re doing tonight . . . there is not one catchy tune in all of this . . . NOTE: This entry relates to experiences I had on March 4, but was written on March 21, 2006.

1978 / 1982

I went to party tonight, and in the home I came across a DVD of the 1978 World Cup. When I arrived in Argentina as an LDS missionary in October 1980 I began to appreciate the fact that Argentina had hosted and won the World Cup in 1978. The luster of that triumph was part of the atmosphere. In Argentina very few missionaries had cars, and none had bicycles. The vast majority of us would walk, and that is how I grew to know Argentina, walking in the coastal resort cities of Necochea and Mar Del Plata, then the small town of Choele-Choele along the Rio Negro at the northern extreme of the Patagonia, after that the city of Cipolletti a few hours further west, and finally in Santa Rosa, the capital of the province of La Pampa in central Argentina. As I walked through Argentina I became a bit more immersed in Argentine culture with every step - - the unique cadence and rhythm of castellano (the Argentine brand of Spanish); delicious foods such as empanadas, gnocchi’s, and asado (the Argentine barbeque); the European heritage that permeates so much of what is Argentina; a military willing to assume a governing role at times; a national folklore evoked by gauchos, the herbal tee called “mate,” and folkloric music; and the national passion for "futbol." When we walked into stores we’d often see posters of the championship team posted on the wall behind the cashier or displayed under a sheet of glass at the counter. We’d see the same posters in homes. On occasion we’d be in someone’s home and catch some soccer on TV. The star of Diego Maradona was rising, but the heroes from 1978 had not disappeared. The wealthy and powerful Buenos Aires soccer club of River Plate boasted at least three of them - - Jaime Fillol, Mario Kempes, and Daniel Pasarella. I was growing to better appreciate the triumph of 1978, when April 1982 arrived. Within a matter of weeks the Argentines would suffer a military defeat in a very brief war over Las Islas Malvinas (The Falkland Islands) and would stumble at the 1982 World Cup in Spain. A national magazine ran a cover story that I could not have appreciated before coming to Argentina. The photographs of two men were on the cover - - Galtieri and Menotti, respectively the nation’s president and the coach of the national soccer team. The headline read: “Argentina, La Historia De Una Gran Nacion Que Casi Fue.” In English: “Argentina, The History of a Great Nation That Almost Was.” NOTE: This entry relates to experiences I had on March 3, but was written on March 20, 2006.

Equal Time

Tonight I heard a speech on preventative health, which was focused in large part on diet. Our speaker emphasized buying (and eating) fresh fruits and vegetables, different vitamins and supplements, and so forth. I am sure all of this was sound advice, but afterward wondered whether I should have asked if she would welcome a contrasting view, and if receptive I could have offered insights such as: “You’ve had a long day. You have a pan of fudge brownies with walnuts on your kitchen counter, and a package of mint chocolate chip ice cream in the freezer. I’d recommend you put a big brownie in a bowl, place a couple of large scoops or mint chocolate chip ice cream on the brownie, and then enjoy! You may even want to have a second helping!” NOTE: I had this experience on March 2, and wrote this entry on March 15.

To Make A Search of an Area for Somebody or Something

I met with the Scouts tonight, about 4 young men ages 12 and 13. Tonight the scoutmaster helped the young men work on their Citizenship in the Community merit badge. This included an activity in which the scouts needed to identify key community buildings on a local map. None of them knew the location of the police station, which is located in downtown Provo. They also did not know which direction was north. I attempted to orient the scouts by calling out some well-known landmarks. I referred them to I-15, a major interstate that runs through Provo - - the name meant nothing to them. I then mentioned “Utah Lake,” which is one of the most prominent features of the valley in which we live. This name also meant nothing to them. I was amazed, but then began to question whether I would have been any more aware of my community when I was there age. I honestly don’t know. NOTE: I had this experience on March 1, and wrote this entry on March 15.