Partial Recall

Not that long ago at institute, a guest speaker taught us about a concept called memory triggers, or anchors. These are sights, sounds, tastes, smells, and moments of touch that, in turn, trigger memories of similar occurrences

My own anchors are many.

Patrick Swayze's "She's like the Wind" carries me to our basement on Shari Circle, where we had this newfangled device called a Nintendo and played several hours of Kid Icarus, Metroid, Rygar, and more while that song, among many others from the Dirty Dancing soundtrack et al, played in the background on a radio. I hear Whitney Houston's "How Will I Know?", and I'm transported back to the roller rink at Classic Skating, where I spent many summer Saturday afternoons between the fourth and sixth grades. Johnny Hates Jazz's "Shattered Dreams" plays, and I'm in my family's van, on our way to another day at the beach in sunny Puerto Rico.

By themselves, these are not particularly meaningful songs per se, but they are attached to key points of my formative years.

There's a particular smell of gas that takes me back to my first days in Peru, walking along the cobbled streets in the city of Cusco, because it is identical to that used by the stove my pensionista cooked my meals on. I don't know what this particular smell is due to, I know it well when I sense it. It's almost like deja vu, it's so surreal.

The smell of coffee actually usually reminds me only of airports. Growing up in Bountiful, Utah, of course, you don't smell coffee that much, but I have always smelled it whenever I travel by air, and memories of airports on three continents crop up with a single whiff.

The taste of an afternoon tea or breakfast at my Aunty Mary's home in England? There's nothing to compare to either one.

To be sure, there are, naturally, also memory triggers or anchors that bring back negative emotions or recollections. You take the good, you take the bad; you take them both, I guess. (Insert memory of reruns on TV here.)

The mind, along with its cache of memories, is an amazing instrument. Its recall is incredible sometimes.

Just a random thought to close: Someday, many years from now, someplace beyond this mortal coil, or perhaps not that far from it at all, will we watch a movie of our lives, and every moment will come flooding back? Or will we will listen to a song, smell a familiar smell, or taste a beloved treat, and it will instead all come back to us fully, rather than partially, as it does now?

You Don't Have to Try So Hard

The troupe has a YouTube channel now, and in case I haven't already mentioned it, you can subscribe to it here.

Speaking of which, last week's video was the "Makeup Challenge," in which two male members of our troupe applied makeup to two female members. The tables were then turned, and the ladies had a chance to apply makeup on the guys. I found it very amusing.

So will you. If not, you are wrong, and you WILL be assimilated.

As I watched this particular video, because I was not present at this filming session, I observed how striking these ladies, whom I usually see with makeup on, also looked without makeup on. They're attractive people to start with—ain't no ugly people in my troupe—and it was just a different and unexpected glimpse at people I've known and worked with for years.

This, then, lead me to a thought that I've kind of really believed anyway for quite a while now but have not expressed either vocally or in print. It is simply this, and for all of the females who may be reading this post, take it for whatever my two cents' may be worth:

I get the impression that some of you might feel like you need to be dolled up in your Sunday best, or some other formal attire, with your hair combed or cut or looking a certain way or a specific color, and all of your makeup needs to be just perfect, and only in this manner can you be perceived to be beautiful or attractive. And I do not believe this necessarily to be true.

Please do not misconstrue what I'm saying. Granted, if this is what makes you "feel" beautiful, then do it. If dressing casually and comfortably is your preferred way to go, whether you're hitting the town or just showing up to spend time with friends, then do that, too. Certainly, there are times and places for both types of attire.

Basically, what I'm trying to say is that I find so many of you just as attractive whether you're wearing jeans and a t-shirt or playing sports than if you were dressed to attend a wedding or a formal dance. I'm not sure some of you realize just how good you look much of the time when, perhaps, you might feel you're not looking your best, or dressed to the nines, or whatever. Things don't have to appear or be "perfect" for you to look your best.

Jurassic Art

Last week, I snapped this photo after family dinner:

Were you looking at the VHS copy of the "Mystery Science Theater 3000" episode "Pod People" up on the shelf? Well, if you were, then you missed the dinosaur drawing on the chalkboard below it by my seven-year-old nephew Jackson.

At age seven, Jack is too young to see the PG-13-rated Jurassic World just yet, but he and I have been playing LEGO Jurassic World on the Xbox 360, and we love it.

Plus, well, kids and dinosaurs. Go figure.

Words with Friends

Every so often, I open my mouth to say something, and then several other somethings come pouring out in rapid succession, and before I realize what I've done, a whole lot of ugliness has spilled out. This is not unlike a situation in which, say, the EPA, in its wisdom, were to "protect" the environment by spilling toxic waste into Colorado's Animas River.

Which the EPA would never do.

When you've had "words with friends," so to speak, the damage is often very difficult to clean up or repair. And even when you feel like you've done all you can possibly do to make amends, some scars and distrust nevertheless remain.

Long story short: A good friend and I got into a heated discussion last week, and this occurred online. So, naturally, I said some stupid things I wouldn't have the gumption to say to his face because, hey, I felt like he had done the same to me.

To social media: the cause of and solution to all of life's problems!

#ShareBadness

When it comes to hurt feelings between friends, usually one of two things happens: Those people never speak to each other again, or they ultimately end up deciding that they value the other person's friendship far above whatever petty difference(s) may have driven a wedge between them and make amends, no matter who's at fault or whose pride has been wounded more.

I am fortunate enough to say that the latter was the case with my friend and me. After talking things out for more than two hours over burgers and ice cream at McDonald's, like real men do, we hugged it out and agreed to let bygones be bygones. I'm grateful that this person had the greatness of character not only to do this but also to tell me some things about myself that I needed to hear, whether or not I wanted to hear them, so that I can be a better friend to him and to others in our social circle in the future. It's always a good idea to get both sides of the story.

In fact, I'd even dare say that our friendship is now stronger not because of our disagreement but because we bounced back from it.

And that made for a happy meal.

That "Other" Book of Mormon Musical

Over the weekend, I had the chance to go and see the Book of Mormon musical.

No, not The Book of Mormon Musical, but rather Nephi & the Sword of Laban, which is based on (the horror!) a story from the pages of the actual Book of Mormon.

Covering 1 Nephi and 2 Nephi while also omitting the Isaiah chapters of the latter book, this production was a noble effort to tell the faith-promoting spiritual and physical journey of Nephi and his family from Jerusalem to the New World. Admittedly, there were moments that reminded me of both the cheesiness of Saturday's Warrior as well as the purposefully cheesy Waiting for Guffman.

Nevertheless, the story flowed well, the songs were composed and performed with heart, and the cast put on an admirable performance. It was way better than that "other" musical.

But you haven't even seen that "other" musical, you say.

No, I haven't seen it. I don't want to, and I don't need to to know that it's pure garbage. I know from the other productions of the show's "creative" team that I don't like their humor in the least. I don't find "anything virtuous, lovely, or of good report or praiseworthy" about the show (Articles of Faith 1:13). Quite frankly, I'm baffled by those of my faith who think it's all that and a bag of chips.

Well, to each his own.

Naturally, Nephi & the Sword of Laban was also way better than Cats.

Ton of Bricks

Life moves pretty fast sometimes—and not always in positive, Ferris Bueller kinds of ways.

Six months ago, I met up at the local Village Inn with one of my troupe's fans. Over breakfast, as he had outlined in his phone call to me the day before, he excitedly elaborated on his plans to propose marriage to his girlfriend. Their first date had been attending one of our shows a few months previously, and he wanted to bring things full circle by moving ahead with his plan at that week's performance. We were more than willing to help him out, and we devised a scheme that everyone in the troupe was in on.

The plan—as much as you can plan something in improv, anyway—went off without a hitch. He asked, and she said yes. The audience stood up and cheered for what seemed like five straight minutes. It was a beautiful moment that I will not soon forget.

I wish that their story ended here.

However, just a few days ago, this young man's life was cut short in an instant. The life that this couple had started to build together had been brought to an abrupt halt almost as quickly as it had begun.

I don't understand it.

I've learned, and I'm learning, that there are many things that occur in this life that make absolutely no sense whatsoever. They are not fair. They are not right. At times, they seem cruel and pitiless. Nevertheless, they occur, and there is nothing any of us can do about them.

I still do not have the appropriate words for when a friend is grieving. I do not think I ever will. I do not pretend to make sense of horrific pieces of news like the one about this friend's unexpected passing. I will not try to do so tonight.

I will say, though, that a crucial part of faith—of my own faith, at least—is trust in our Heavenly Father's plan. Part of that trust includes trust in the fact that these inexplicable things will happen, and we won't know the reasons during the here and the now. Nevertheless, my faith is that they will given someday.

Another crucial part of that trust is that all will be made right in the end, and that He will wipe away all of our tears. Further, He will restore to us beyond our comprehension our losses and heartaches suffered in this mortal coil and will reward us according to the desires of our hearts.

I know it. Even when there's so much I don't know.