The Bro Code at Church

The Bro Code.

It's a very specific code for us males, and when I say specific, I mean, not really that specific, as in it's not written down somewhere but rather sort of just understood. Because we tend not to worry about stuff like this and then agonize over it and talk it over with our best friends to find out what she really, really meant by that until we realize it's 3 a.m. and we have to get up for work in a few hours. No, we use that time to either play video games and talk about comic book plots.

There are a few absolutes in the Bro Code:

If it's just you and a male friend at a movie, there must be at least one seat in between the two of you.

The same principle applies to using the stalls in a public bathroom. You gotta have that one-toilet buffer zone between you.

Be a good wingman. Help a guy out.

You also don't date someone a good friend of yours has dated, at least not recently. Or something.

Anything else would be frowned upon and might lead to a Lifetime movie exposing the horrors of breaking the Bro Code.

Fortunately, there's also a sort of Bro Code at work at church. In my previous ward, an elder gentleman often politely went out of his way to help me out with my collar and tie whenever I came down with a case of Deacon's Collar, which happened all-too frequently for someone such as myself who had served a mission and who worked at the Church Office Building for years and who has tied literally thousands of ties over the years.

Note: Deacon's Collar in the LDS faith is not the same thing as Deacon's Collar in, say, the Catholic faith. It refers to looking like you tied your tie in the dark, or with one arm tied behind your back. (Deacon's Collar is a real, Google-able term you can search for.)

Then, there are those times when you are running late for church, and earlier you've put on the new sweater that your mom gave you for Christmas a few weeks ago, except you wanted to try it on first to make sure it fit before you removed the tags and stickers, and you forgot all about the tags and stickers that were still attached to it, and you walked hurriedly into the chapel with these items on full display to the public to try to find a seat. In this instance, the Bro Code clearly dictates that someone must step up and either make you aware of these tags and stickers and/or remove them himself.

So, thank goodness for that.

Improvables: Stomp!

Shot from last night's Improvables performance, taken from the front row:

It's easy to take a seat on the front row when you're the M.C. that night.

As Jamie sings an Adele-inspired song in "The Greatest Hits of Janitors," Megan, Ricky, and Parker back her up with a Stomp!-inspired . . . backup thing.

I never cease to be amazed by the brilliance that surrounds me at these performances.

Heart Murmurs

Our stake president came to visit the Island of Misfit Toys a couple of weeks ago, as we now have four (count 'em, four) elders quorums, and some reorganization had to be taken care of. After the business had been conducted, he was invited up to the pulpit to share a few thoughts with us.

Of all of the scriptures he could have selected, he chose 1 Nephi 2:12:

"And thus Laman and Lemuel, being the eldest, did murmur against their father. And they did murmur because they knew not the dealings of that God who had created them."

The stake president's purpose in doing so, I believe, was to counsel us against the perils of murmuring, as well as the importance of learning the Lord's will and then choosing to obey it.

It turned out to be a rather timely piece of advice. Later that same evening, Pres. Russell M. Nelson of the Quorum of the Twelve delivered a CES fireside that was broadcast worldwide, and some of his comments didn't sit too well with some of the social media crowd.

Some might have called it murmuring.

We are studying the Book of Mormon again this year in Sunday School. It's always a good time to taker a closer look at this additional testament of Christ, and I am grateful to spend an hour each Sunday re-reading and re-examining the story of Lehi, Nephi, and their family and the many other lessons contained in those wonderful pages in a class setting, in addition to my own study of the book.

A closer look at Lehi's dream this past Sunday reminded me that while holding to the Iron Rod remains as crucial as ever, the mists of darkness, the haze, the lost paths, and the Great and Spacious Building (G&SB) are as alive and well as they ever were, too. It's a good thing we get the opportunity to read and re-read this book time and again, because the same patterns and lessons are being repeated right before our eyes. The G&SB sure loves to murmur, in addition to all of its taunts, barbs, and vitriol.

Are there those striving earnestly to be faithful and to sustain our leaders who have legitimate doubts, concerns, and questions that they wish answered? Absolutely. Anyone can grapple with these issues and still cling to the rod, pressing forward while searching for the answers.

What separates them from the murmurers? The murmurers, by contrast, tend to be completely sure of the correct answer, and it ain't what they're being taught over the pulpit. Instead of praying to have their hearts changed to accept the will of the Lord as revealed by prophets, seers, and revelators, they instead pray to have the prophets' hearts (and/or policies) changed to fit their own set of beliefs.

Rather than holding to the concept that God "(made) man in (His) image" (Genesis 1:26), they make their own version of God in man's image.

"If your god never disagrees with you, you might just be worshiping and idealized version of yourself." -Tim Keller

This concept seems to be one of the biggest trials we'll see in our day. And still the Iron Rod is there for any who will humble him or herself and grab ahold.

Improvables: Seventh Anniversary Show

Over the weekend, we celebrated our seventh anniversary as a troupe (as well as the beginning of our eighth year performing together) by bringing back some former troupe members for a one-night-only reunion show.

Guy, Ian, Michael, Scott, and my brother Steve joined us for a fun-filled night of randomness and goofiness. In other words, improv at its finest.

I got to play "Pieces of Shakespeare" with Ian and Steve:

. . . getting haunted by Ian's ghost in the end.

And, of course, what Improvables reunion show would be complete without a game of "Spit Take"?

Family Dinner/January 2016

On Sunday night, it was our monthly family birthday party. No "Pass the Parcel" this time, but no matter!

In January, we celebrate my sister-in-law Jessica's birthday, as well as my nephew Dallin's. Sunday was, in fact, Dallin's 16th birthday. They grow up so fast, don't they?

Hide your kids, because there's a newly licensed driver on the streets. (I kid, though, because I love. D-Money is actually a good driver and a great kid.)

Christian, Jake, and Kira had a fun time bowling with Grandma's plastic bowling set:

Ashlyne's and Jordan's Wedding

Over the weekend, my cousin Ashlyne got married to Jordan in the Salt Lake temple. Yet another Jordan in the family!

But that's great news, because we really like Jordan and were happy to partake in the day's festivities. It also gave me a chance to break in my new phone's new camera.

It was a very cold but otherwise beautiful day.

During the sealing ceremony, Meikayla tended four-month-old Daniel and rocked him to sleep:

Afterward, we convened at a chapel in Draper for the wedding luncheon, which included either corn chowder or chili in bread bowls:

Like My Father before Me

May 25, 1983, was hands-down one of the best days of my childhood. I was seven years old, and I was in the second grade. I don't have too many memories of this year of school other than the recollection that my second-grade teacher terrified me.

On this particular day, my dad woke up my older brother and me at 5 in the morning, but I didn't mind because he got us both out of school for the day and drove us to downtown Salt Lake City to line up for tickets for the first showing of Episode VI, Return of the Jedi, in Utah.

Back in the day, this was how things were done for movie premieres.

As much as my second-grade teacher terrified me, Jabba the Hutt and many of the slimy creatures who inhabited his palace frightened me even more. Nevertheless, I was on the edge of my seat throughout the entire film, and I rejoiced as Luke, Han Solo, Princess Leia, Lando Calrissian, and their Rebel friends, with aid from the cute and loveable Ewok teddy bears, took down the evil Empire.

The experience of my dad actually excusing me from school for the day to share this moment along with my older brother and me was as important to my childhood as was the experience of seeing the movie itself and the bragging rights of doing so before any of my friends and classmates were able to.

Thirty-two years and seven months to the day later, I finally had the opportunity to return the favor for Dad. Due to circumstances beyond his or ours or anyone else's control, he's in a place right now where I had to check him out for the day, just as he had gotten me out of my second-grade classroom. The irony was not lost on me.

We spared no expense on concessions as together we enjoyed a Christmas Day viewing of Episode VII, The Force Awakens, the long-awaited sequel to that movie indelibly engraven as an important part of my growing-up years.

Star Wars: It's a father-son, ruling-the-galaxy thing.