Tag Archives: contention

Fasting Is Good

Fasting Is Good

Fasting is good, especially when it is an abstinence from social media.  A few months ago, the prophet asked the youth to do a social media fast for 7 days.  Last night, he asked the women to do a social media fast for 10 days.

When the prophet asked the youth to fast for 7 days I decided to do it too.  I figure what’s good for them is good for everyone.  With last night’s request, I figured, what’s good for the goose is good for the gander.

When I did the 7 days fast I deleted all social media applications from my cell phone.  I never installed them after that.  This time I’ve deleted them from my tablet.  After the 10 days, I might not install them their either.

Conference Talks and Social Media

I noticed the mention in a couple of conference talks the contention that takes place on social media.  Just in the last few days, I’ve blocked 4 members from my Facebook account.  Why?  Contention.

One of the biggest contentions going on right now concerns Justice Kavanaugh’s nomination, and subsequent installment, to the Supreme Court.  It has split many people into three camps:  Those who feel Kavanaugh is being falsely accused and assumed guilty, and those who believe all his accuser has said about him.

The third camp seems to be the only rational camp.  Their rationale is this:  a presumption of innocence must always take precedence in legal matters, and victims should be listened to.  The two camps that are split can’t see this middle ground.  It’s simply this – his accuser should go to the police where the alleged crime to place, report it and let the investigation run its course.

There are consequences to what I just said.  If the investigation shows a crime was committed, a trial will be convened, and if found guilty, Kavanaugh will most likely be removed from the bench.  However, if it clears Kavanaugh of all wrongdoings, his accuser may have consequences to pay.

It Won’t Come to That

It won’t come to that.  She’s not going to go to the authorities.  Kavanaugh is going to serve and, just Clarance Thomas, when the smoke clears the air people will shake their head at this fiasco that has taken place.

The Truly Scary Part

The truly scary part is there are people who want to lynch Kavanaugh.  They believe his accuser is 100% truthful, he doesn’t need a trial, he’s guilty because she said he did these things.

I HAVE SAT ON THE ACCUSED SIDE.  It isn’t pretty.  It emotionally scars you for life.  My wife still leaves the room if I start to talk about it.  She can’t take being reminded of it.  It also had dire financial consequences.  I too was assumed guilty without any opportunity to prove my innocence.

The truly scary part is those in power who choose to ignore the Bill of Rights.  What adds it is there are those among us who believe it is okay that those in power ignore the Bill of Rights.  After all, if someone says it, it must be true, and if they accuse someone, that person is guilty.

Heaven help them if they are ever falsely accused.

History Continued

History Continued

My history continued from yesterday…

Here are some other notable things that happened when we lived on Teal Avenue.    We lived on Teal from 1961 to 1966.  We moved the summer of 1966 to Moscow, but I’ll get in to that later.

The Honda 50

My dad bought a Honda 50.  It was a scooter – kind of like a stripped down Vespa.  It wasn’t meant for off road, but he’d take it off road anyway.

One day we were riding up by Highlands and he got a flat and we went down.  (I was riding on the back.)  I split the back of my head open on a rock.

We ended up walking most of the way home when a policeman spotted us.  He wanted to take me to the hospital, but dad said no and I wasn’t hurt that bad.

The policeman gave me a ride home and told mom I needed stitches.  By the time dad got there, the handkerchief the policeman gave me was soaked with blood.  He managed to convince my dad I need to go to the ER.

8 stitches says the policeman was right.

I didn’t like riding on that thing ever after that, and I still don’t like riding as a passenger on a motorcycle.  If I’m driving it, I’m okay.

The Basement

My room was in the basement.  Everyone else slept upstairs.  We had central heating which meant the ducts were overhead and I quickly learned I could hear things being said.

While I thought this a blessing, it was also a curse.  I heard things said no child should ever hear.  While I thought it was cool to eavesdrop around Christmas time, I also could hear every argument and disagreement.

Points of Contention

There were two big points of contention between my parents.  Number 1 was what little attention my dad paid to my mom and our family.  I quickly learned that mom knew that dad spent a lot of time “talking” to the home ec teacher when he was at school on the evenings and weekends.  While I have no idea if it was anything more than his just spending time talking to this woman, it still hurt my mom.

Number 2 was the way my dad treated me.  The one that stands out the most was a Sunday.  We had gone to stake conference, and I was given a new white shirt to wear.  Upon arriving home after church I proceeded to get out some finger paints I had been given.  My dad, seeing my white shirt with green paint proceeded to beat the daylights out of me.  As a result, I was scared, hurt and withdrew to my basement room.

I was afraid to leave my room the entire afternoon.  That night, my mom pleaded with my dad to go apologize to me.  She knew the beating was over the top for what I had done (oh, and the paint washed out, by the way).  She asked him repeatedly to go downstairs, apologize, and tell me that he loves me.

I buried my face so deep in my pillow (for I was afraid to let me dad hear me cry) and sobbed long after the arguing stopped.  Cheering for what my mom was saying, for she truly was trying to champion a cause for me, I remember thinking, “Yes, come down and tell me you’re sorry.”   It never happened.

That wasn’t the first time, nor was it the last time.  It just sticks out more than most times.


School at Hawthorne Elementary was okay.  The walk seemed like it was for miles.  Occasionally, Mrs. Hansen would take pity on me and give me a ride if it was extremely cold.  However, most days I’d walk.  And, I never got a ride home.

If I knew my mom wasn’t going to be home when I got home (which was rare), I’d explore an old abandoned house along the way.  Other kids said it was haunted, but I didn’t believe in that.  I just wanted to find out if some hobo lived there.

I never saw anything there.  Not even an old hobo.

The big thing I liked about school was playing marbles.  I sucked at it, but I’d still spend my money on bags of marbles only to go to school to lose them to some kid who was really good.  (Mrs. Hansen would occasionally bring me some marbles.  Like I said, she scared me, but looking back, she was quite nice to me.)

The south side of the building was for playing marbles, while the steps on the west side were for playing jacks.  Boys didn’t play jacks, and very few girls played marbles.  It was a natural segregation between the boys and the girls.

Cub Scouts

I got involved in Cub Scouts through church.  It was fun.  I especially liked the crafts we would do.  I made a pelican tie rack for my dad for Father’s Day, only to rescue it from the trash.   Mom told me I shouldn’t let him see that I dug it out of the trash.  I still have it.

Workers, Farmers and Fields

New houses were going up all around us.  I was a royal pain to the workers.  In an attempt to get rid of me, they would send me home for ice water.  I played the game, but when I returned with the ice water I wanted a dime.

They then tried to hang me by my feet over a pit.  They then pretended to leave.  The came back and got me down and told me to get lost.  After that, I was a little more cautious and would wait until they left for the day.

I then discovered a new game.  These sheet metal plates on the ditches were fun to lift and watch the water flood the field.  The local farmer wasn’t very happy with me that night.  It was summer, and I was just thankful my mom handled the conversation with the farmer, and not my dad.  (He was up north going to school.)

One summer when they burnt off the barley field, a bunch of grasshoppers got roasted.  They were all over the place.  I tasted one, and it hand a nutty flavor.  There I sat, eating one after another.

The neighbor, arriving home from work, didn’t think I should be eating them.  He gave me a handful of sesame candy and requested I eat it instead.  For get that… I ate both.

… to be continued…

Wonder if it Will Catch On

I’m coining a new phrase:  If you poop in the pool, don’t expect me to join you for a swim.
Meaning:  If you go off half-cocked, don’t expect me to engage with you.  Enjoy your mess while I walk away.
It’s for all those people who read something and then go totally wacko because they either want to pick a fight, or because they didn’t understand what they read.  The Book of Mormon says contention is of the devil.  That is so true, and although my new saying is a bit crude, it gets the point across.
I wonder how long it will take before it is used in some TV show like Suits.  Hmmm… And, will the credit me for having first said it?
I took the easy way out for dinner tonight.  I cooked a pork loin, made mashed potatoes and gravy, green beans, and a peach cobbler for dessert.  Perhaps it wasn’t an easy way out, but I didn’t feel real creative.  It wasn’t like a Chopped Challenge.
Next Sunday is Chinese New Year, so watch out.  I’m already thinking about what I’m going to fix for dinner.