Conference Breakfast/October 2025

The latest general conference of the Church took place on October 4 and 5. Our prophet, President Russell M. Nelson, passed away about a week before; but conference went ahead under the direction of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. JB and I tuned in to all five sessions, and we enjoyed the messages and the Spirit that we felt.

Roxana Bongioanni, whom I taught the missionary discussions to in Lima, Peru, nearly 29 years ago, was in town with her family to attend the Saturday morning session in person. While they were in town for the weekend, they requested to meet up with JB and me for dinner on Saturday. Roxana requested a local Peruvian restaurant, since the ones near them in Sacramento (where they now live) aren't very good. Thus, we found ourselves together at Rocoto in Bountiful.

It was wonderful to reunite with Roxana, as well as to meet her husband, Ross; their son, Bruno; and daughter, Paula—last of whom, you may recall, we had previously met in June 2019 when Paula came out to Salt Lake City to attend EFY. (She has since served a Spanish-speaking mission in New York City.) The food was also pretty great.

JB and I also gathered with family on my side for breakfast on Sunday morning prior to the Sunday morning session. We enjoyed pancakes, breakfast casserole, fresh fruit, and a number of other tasty selections.

Our Dinner with the Leons

Javier Leon, a friend and missionary who served with me years ago in the Peru Lima Central Mission, was recently in Utah with his family, visiting from Lima. We invited them to join us for dinner at our home on Monday, May 19.

These were not our only guests, however. The night before, the Spanish-speaking elders knocked on our door while I was out. JB answered the door and invited the missionaries to come to dinner, too. They came and brought along an investigator, Robin, an immigrant from Guatemala. Our final guest for the evening was our North Salt Lake neighbor Mike Bryner, who also served with me and Elder Leon in the mission field in Peru.

We decided to get takeout from Panda Express to feed everyone, and it proved to be a popular choice. We also provided a paneton, which is normally a Peruvian dessert shared at Christmastime and around New Year's; this particular one had remained in our food storage a few months beyond the holiday season.

At any rate, we had a wonderful evening together, and I'm so glad JB was able to meets Javier and family: his wife, Clarisa; and their sons, Hyrum and Taylor. The elders also shared (in Spanish) a brief spiritual message with us all. It felt like old times!

Our Dinner with the Del Carpios 2021

Our good friends, Janett and (Elder) Fernando Del Carpio, were in town from Peru for a visit a few weeks ago. We were able to meet with them June 20 while they were staying with some friends in Kaysville.

Janett is one of the daughters of my mission president and his wife, Carlos and Maria Cuba. The day of our meeting happened to fall on Fathers Day—Janett's first since her father's passing last summer—and it was, quite understandably, a very emotional time for her. Having also lost her mother a few months ago, I'm sure, added to the difficulty.

Nevertheless, Janett spoke with great faith about these losses, even mentioning that her sister had related a dream she had about Pdte. Cuba being dressed all in white and running off because he was so busy and had so many things to do in the spirit world. This thought brough me great comfort, as well.

Though I had to do a lot of Spanish-to-English translation for JB's sake, there was very little if anything lost in translation. JB and Janett have become good friends in the short time they've known each other, and we are grateful for our relationship with the Del Carpio family.

The Mish: Blossoming as the Rose

Twenty-five years and several pounds ago this month, I was serving as a missionary in Peru. I was transfered to a new assignment to labor in the city of Cusco, which as it turns out is real and not a fictional place from The Emperor's New Groove. In that area, my companion, Elder Quispe, and I taught and baptized brother and sister Ever and Kelly Cárdenas, whose mother was returning to activity in the Church after an absence.

Sunday, March 17, 1996, looked like this:

You may not recognize that skinny kid, but that was me. The Cuzco Ward was one of my favorite areas with one of my favorite companions, and it included many memorable experiences enjoyed with unforgettable people.

Fast-forward to just a few days ago when now-thirtysomething Kelly searched for and found me on Facebook. In her message, she said her own eight-year-old child (Kelly is now a mother of four) had been baptized that week, and it inspired her to find the missionary who baptized her all those years ago. She remains active in the Church and is trying to keep her family on the straight and narrow.

Talking to Kelly again after not knowing anything about her or her family for many years was a great blessing for me. It was a reminder that planting seeds, nurturing them, watching them grow, and seeing the fruits blossom are all part of the process.

I have, and will always have, a great love for the children of Lehi in Peru. My association with the Lamanites and seeing them "blossom as the rose" (D&C 49:24) keeps bringing dividends and great blessings as the years go by.

Our Dinner with Danny and Tanner

So ... we like to eat dinner. That is convenient, as many of our family members and friends do, too. And even in times of pandemic and social distancing, we are able to get out of the house once in a while to break bread with some of these people.

Steve and Summer recently invited us over to their home in North Salt Lake on a Sunday evening for a delicious dinner consisting of baked salmon and mixed vegetables. My amazing wife made alfajores, one of my favorite pastries from Peru, and in my unbiased opinion, she knocked it out of the park with them. (Summer served her mission in Argentina and was also familiar with this dessert.)

Dinner also came with a show. Five-year-old Danny put in a Living Scriptures videotape (yes, VHS tape; we'll soon be taking it on an episode of "Antiques Roadshow" for appraisal) of the angel Moroni appearing to 17-year-old Joseph Smith and instructing him about the golden plates and where they were buried. Coincidentally, this same event was also partly included in our Gospel Doctrine study of the Doctrine and Covenants and Church history earlier in the day.

Afterward, Danny dressed himself up as the angel Moroni and wanted to re-create Moroni's appearance to Joseph.

We were happy to oblige. His three-year-old brother Tanner wanted to join in the fun, and soon everyone took a turn either dressing up as Moroni or pretending to be Joseph and finding the hidden "golden plates," stashed in various locations around the house.

They're teaching these kids well. We are really grateful to be their uncle and aunt and to also have shared part of our time with our youngest niece, nine-month-old Sadie.

Hasta Luego, Presidente

Over the weekend, I learned the sad news that my mission president, Carlos A. Cuba Quintana, had passed away from complications due to COVID-19.

(This is me on May 9, 1995, at my welcome-to-the-mission dinner, along with the Cuba family; Elder and Hna. Silva, our family history missionaries from Texas; and Elders Urbano, Rodríguez, and Rodríguez [yes, two Rodríguezes], from Peru:)

It's hard to find the words, in either English or Spanish, to pay tribute to the good man we have lost. Nevertheless, I will try.

Presidente Cuba loved his missionaries; he called us his hijos (sons) and hijas (daughters). He treated us like a second father away from home. He was not perfect; he sometimes lost his temper, and he was sometimes strict—and there were times when he needed to be, including with me personally. Still, we knew that loved us. I will remember his good nature, his love of the gospel and of people, his good humor, and his showing me how a good husband and father in the way he treated his wife and five daughters.

He loved missionary work, and he dedicated three years of his life (among many other callings he served in throughout his life) to helping his missionaries learn to love it and preach its message well. It wasn't unusual to attend a multi-zone missionary conference with Pdte. Cuba speaking well into 9 or 10 in the evening. I spent four months of my service as his personal secretary in the mission office, one of the most-rewarding experiences of my time in Peru. It was a season in which I got to see up close just how tirelessly he worked on behalf of his missionaries and how dedicated he was to magnifying his calling.

This picture of Hna. and Pdte. Cuba was taken just a few months ago in front of the still-relatively new Arequipa temple, in southeastern Peru:

Pdte. Cuba, again serving under the title of president, was a member of the temple presidency at the time of his passing.

As one of my fellow missionaries pointed out in a social media post (Pdte. Cuba's hijos have been talking to each other a lot this week), this is not goodbye; this is just an hasta luego. We look forward in faith to the day when we are reunited with all of our lost loved ones through the grace and Atonement of our Savior, Jesus Christ.

Hasta vernos con el Rey.

The Mish: 25 Years Later

Hace 25 años hoy, el 8 de marzo de 1995, un joven nervioso e ansioso pero con esperanza, quien nunca habia vivido lejos de sus padres y de su familia, entró el CCM de Provo, Utah, se puso la placa de Elder Plowman por primera vez, e inició su servicio misional de dos años en la Misión Perú Lima Central. Desde aquel día, mi vida cambió en para siempre en muchas maneras, una época en la cual conocí a gente y lugares inolvidables y traje memorias que aún atesoro a través del tiempo.

Twenty-five years ago today, on March 8, 1995, a nervous and anxious but hopeful young man, who had never lived away from his parents or family before, entered the MTC in Provo, Utah, put on the Elder Plowman nametag for the first time, and began his two years of missionary service in the Peru Lima Central Mission. Since that day, my life changed forever in many ways; a time in which I met unforgettable people and places, and I have memories I still treasure after all that time.

Our Dinner with the Bays

It was great to meet up with my old mission companion Bill Bay and his wife, Kristen, for dinner Wednesday night. They live in Florida but were in town for both vacation and to drop off their daughter Gabriella at BYU-Idaho for school.

We went to Rocoto (where else?) in Woods Cross for some Peruvian food. I'm glad that companionships go beyond those mission months and years and that I get to share these moments with my eternal companion, JB.

Paula's Visit

On Saturday, we were grateful to spend part of the day with Paula, whose mother Roxana I taught the discussions to as a missionary in Lima, Peru, over 20 years ago (!). Paula was in town from Sacramento this week for EFY, and we were able to take her through Temple Square and some of the other sites in downtown Salt Lake City before dropping her off at the airport for her return trip home.

She’s a great kid and part of a great family we are blessed to know. She spoke of her desires to serve a mission of her own when she turns 19 years old, and how could we not encourage her to do so? (JB and I are both RMs.)

Our Dinner with the Del Carpios

Last week, some good friends of mine from Peru, Elder Fernando and Janett Cuba Del Carpio, were in town for general conference. (Janett's father was my mission president in the Peru Lima Central Mission.) We were fortunate to be able to meet up with them for dinner Thursday night in downtown Salt Lake City at City Creek.

We were joined by Nana and Carlos Nieto, Peruvian friends who live in Magna. (Nana was also served in our mission.)

What else do you go out to eat when you're with your friends from Latin America---when the nearby American places are closed, anyway---but Italian food? It seemed a logical choice. It was an enjoyable evening out, and it's always great to reconnect with friends from my mission days.

Our Dinner with the Aronis 2019

My old friends, the Aroni family from Cusco, Peru, whom we visited at their home in Spanish Fork in August, came up to Bountiful for a visit Saturday afternoon. Armandito's father, Armando Sr., is in town from Peru, so it was, likewise, good to see and talk to him for the first time in nearly 20 years.

We first met for lunch at one of our favorite local restaurants for some Chinese food. After that, we congregated at our house, where both Armandos; Armandito's wife, Mariela; JB and I talked about old times and looked over my old mission photos. Meanwhile, the kids watched Incredibles 2 on Netflix, so everybody had something fun to do.

Armando Sr. was an investigator of the Church when I first met him in 1996, and he remained that way for many years after. He told me Saturday that he had heard nearly 100 total discussions with the missionaries (including myself) over those years. Finally, just a couple of years ago, he finally took the plunge (literally) and was baptized into the Church. It gave me such joy to learn of it at the time, and I was happy to be able to tell him about it face to face as we talked about the principles of the gospel and how his family has been doing.

It's great to have life-long friends like these good people, and I'm glad JB has got to meet them, too.

Our Dinner with the Aronis

Over the weekend, JB went with me down to the very smoke-filled city of Spanish Fork (due to all of the wildfires currently raging in the state) to visit some old friends of mine from Peru.

More than 22 years ago (jeepers, that's a long time), I served for 4½ months of my mission in the Barrio de Dios Branch, which later became the Villa Unión Ward, in the city of Cusco. During my time there, I became acquainted with the Aroni family: Hno. Armando and Hna. Epifania and their kids, including five-year-old Armandito.

Well, Armandito is all grown up now; he and his wife, Mariela, have a couple of kids of their own, and they recently moved to Utah on student visas. Armandito's mother is in town for a couple of weeks, and they were good enough to invite us down for dinner and to be reacquainted after many years. We also got to meet Hna. Epifania's two daughters, who had not been born yet when I was last in the area.

One of my favorite pieces of news: Armando (senior), after literally decades investigating the Church (including during the time I served in Barrio de Dios), was finally baptized just two years ago.

We were served a delicious dinner of lomo saltado, along with chicha morada (never a favorite, but nostalgia is what it is) and Inca Kola. Better than the food, though, it was good to see my old friends and to introduce JB to them. Time has been good to these good people.

Easter

It's Easter Sunday (did ya notice?) and also the second day of the 188th Annual General Conference of the Church! Normally, we meet up at Mom's house for breakfast together prior to the Sunday morning session of conference, but since Mom is home sick today, we instead met up at Mike's and Jana's house in Layton.

The kids took part in our annual Easter egg hunt and had a great time looking for goodies.

General conference was pretty amazing, but then again, it always is! The Saturday morning session yesterday was also a solemn assembly in which we sustained our new prophet. President Russell M. Nelson, as well as his counselors in the First Presidency, President Dallin H. Oaks and President Henry B. Eyring. In addition, we also sustained the first Asian-American and Latin American members of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles of this dispensation: Elders Gerrit W. Gong and Ulisses Soares, respectively.

Priesthood meeting last night featuring a change: the end of high priests groups in wards, which are being combined with elders quorums. The Church is also consolidating some of its priesthood meetings (which means fewer meetings; hooray!).

Following priesthood session, JB and I traveled to downtown Salt Lake City to visit an old friend of mine, Janett Cuba del Carpio, whose father, Carlos Cuba, was my mission president in Peru. Janett's husband, Elder Fernando del Carpio, is an Area Seventy in Tacna, Peru, and they were both in town to attend general conference.

There were two other special announcements today during the afternoon session: Home and visiting teaching programs are being discontinued and replaced with "ministering" objectives. I guess we'll find out more about those in the weeks that follow. Also, Pres. Nelson announced seven new temples to be built in: Layton, Utah (Davis County's second!); Richmond, Virginia; Salta, Argentina; Managua, Nicaragua; another in the Philippines; and the first temples in both India and Russia.

What an inspiring, uplifting weekend it was. I'm grateful to have had the opportunity to sustain a new prophet and to feel the mantle upon his shoulders as he taught gospel truths. So many wonderful messages delivered so many incredible teachings.

New Year's Eve

Like many of you, JB and I rang in the New Year with a Star Wars movie marathon, starting with The Force Awakens, which was followed by A New Hope.

No, the Star Wars marathon was not my idea. Honestly! Her sister's family joined us for part of the evening, and it was their idea. I promise.

In addition, we enjoyed some delicious panetón, a Peruvian tradition for NYE:

The year 2017 was one of many changes, but most of them were good ones! We're looking forward to many more great things to come in 2018.

Happy New Year!

The Great American Solar Eclipse of 2017

The Great American Solar Eclipse of 2017 was everything it was cracked up to be. I heard and read all about the hype for the months and weeks leading up to last Monday, August 21, and since then I've seen and heard numerous accounts of the event from people who traveled up to Idaho or Wyoming or other places to witness it from the path of totality. From what I've learned, I would definitely go out of my way to travel a good distance to see the next one from its path of totality so I can see things for myself.

Some of these accounts have even compared it all to a spiritual experience, and it's hard to see it any other way. Mother Nature can put on quite an amazing show if we stop, look, and listen to the majesty that surrounds us everywhere.

Anyhow, my experience with the eclipse (this time) was this: I put on my Clark Planetarium-approved sunglasses (yay, six eyes!) over my regular glasses and watched the eclipse from a patio chair in the backyard. Though I was not a witness in the path of totality, it was nevertheless a beautiful sight:

(No, the sky didn't turn this dark here; the background is black because the photo was taken from under the retina-protecting safety glasses.)

A photo can't really capture it. But it was beautiful. Here in North Salt Lake, the sky at 11 a.m. darkened to the point it normally would look at about 7:00 or 7:30 p.m. at this time of year. It was a bit surreal. I think there's really something to all of this astronomy stuff.

The Incas, whose descendants I lived among and served in Peru, worshipped the Sun. They also had a lot of weird traditions and sacrificed human beings, but they were onto something in their adoration of that celestial body that provides us all with light, heat, photosynthesis, and countless other wonders. Today, Peru's unit of currency (you'll thank me when/if this is ever on "Jeopardy!") is the sol, which is Spanish for "Sun."

For me, it all points to our Creator. Like Alma testifying before Korihor, it makes me want to proclaim:

"All things denote there is a God; yea, even the earth, and all things that are upon the face of it, yea, and its motion, yea, and also all the planets which move in their regular form do witness that there is a Supreme Creator" (Alma 30:44).

With this eclipse, I feel like He basically dropped the mic.

The Mish: The Guinea Pigs Reunite

When I received my mission call to serve in the Perú Lima Central Mission years ago, I had no idea at that moment in time that American missionaries had not been sent to the country for several years previously. When I read my letter, which was signed by President Howard W. Hunter, out loud, Dad even remarked, in disbelief, "No, they don't send 'em there!"

I came to learn that due to terrorism in the country, a couple of missionaries had been murdered in Peru, in the '80s, after which all American missionaries were shipped out to other lands. By the mid-'90s, however, Peru had taken control of the situation to the point the Church felt it was time to send Americans back. Indeed, I had received a correct call. Three other Americans and I were among the first group of four Americans headed to MPLC. Since that time, we've often joked that this was a test (it sort of was) to see how we would fare and to see whether or not we'd be killed by terrorists (it sort of wasn't; not really). Unofficially, we were the four guinea pigs.

Which is ironic in itself, because Peruvians eat guinea pigs (yes, you've been told correctly). It is a delicacy for the Peruvians, and it is called cuy.

With Bill Bay and his family in town from Florida, JB and I were invited to meet up at Mike Bryner's home in North Salt Lake to reminisce about old times and to catch up with each other's lives. The food (which included some of the best spare ribs I've ever eaten) was delectable. The company was equally as good.

I'm very grateful for my association with the three other cuys (the fourth, John Ure, is currently on the East coast) who pioneered the return of American missionaries to Peru, paving the way for several more to serve (and, eventually, sister missionaries) in the years that have followed. They helped me socially and spiritually in countless ways, as did the Peruvian missionaries and people with whom we had the privilege to associate.

The Mish: All of the Time in the World

It's Abraham Lincoln's 208th birthday today. Did ya know?

Honest Abe's birthday has additional significance for me. I remember what I was doing on his 188th birthday, 20 years ago today. It was the end of an era as I returned home to the United States after two years of missionary service in Peru.

My older brother and my new sister-in-law took me out to eat at Boston Market, which is now a Wendy's, in Bountiful. (What did I care what it was? It was American food at long last.) That night, I met with my new stake president up at the stake center and was officially released to return to pursuing new goals in the lone and dreary world that lay ahead.

Five days later, the girl who waited for me, as I like to say, was born (my second cousin Meikayla). A few years later, my last companion, that pesky parasite, was finally cleansed from my system.

My, how the time flies. Yes, this is one of those "Back in My Day" moments.

I think back on the many people I was blessed to associate with, to both laugh and cry with, to serve, and by whom to be served in so very many ways. I also think of those who hit the baptismal waters and then "drowned," so to speak, or who wandered into other paths, or those who for whatever reason, be it time or distance or a number of other factors, fell off the radar. Nevertheless, I hold out hope for one and all.

The other day, this photo came up in my social media feeds, which I have borrowed (yoink!) for this post:

This is the Lazarte family, one of many families I had the opportunity to teach. My companions and I taught their father, José; he was baptized; he was ordained a priest; he baptized his sons Erick and Yamil; and he went on to receive the Melchizedek Priesthood, all in the few months we were stationed in that ward only to be interrupted by the aforementioned day of twenty years ago today.

I glance again at this photo, and I see how far they've come. Erick and Yamil went on to serve missions of their own and are raising families of their own now, too. I look at them all and observe also how far they are going. And all of the blood, sweat, and tears spent in the service of such people vanish away. They are nothing. These people, these memories, are everything. It is the gift that keeps on giving, and its dividends know no bounds.

Where am I going with this? Other than feeling old, old?

The simple answer, as I sat in stake conference today, two stake presidencies later (somehow, through a series of fortunate events, I'm back in that very same stake) and pondered on the time gone by, is that time is abundant. Thanks to the gospel plan, we have all of the time in the world.

When it comes to missionary service, I've heard it said that there are those anyone could teach, there are those only a few select individuals could teach, and there are also those only you could teach. When all is said and done, I feel like I've been the one to be taught. I've learned that completely changing your life, turning it nearly upside down in many cases, is worth the sacrifice that brings forth the blessings of heaven.

"Papá Noel in Perú"

Twenty years ago (twenty!) this week, I had one of the most memorable weeks of my mission. My companion and I saw the baptism of two sisters who (1) remain good friends of mine, (2) remain active in the Church, and (3) would bring the remainder of their family into the Church in the years that followed. Our week culminated with a stake Primary program, for which yours truly got asked to play Santa Claus (or, colloquially, "Papá Noel").

It wasn't one of my best acting roles, although it has remained one of the most memorable. I wrote an article about the experience, which was published in the Church's Liahona (international) magazine in December 2001. (As a side note, one of the other articles, published adjacent to mine, was written by the mother of one of my fellow Improvables troupe members! Incredible.)

I don't have the rights to re-print the text here, as I signed them away and whatnot, but you can read all about it by clicking on this link. And if you don't, well, I'll still be your friend.

May the Spirit and goodwill of the Christmas season be with you all.

Unspoken Expectations

"It's not real if you don't feel it.
Unspoken expectations;
Ideals you used to play with."
 -Cyndi Lauper, "Goonies 'R' Good Enough"

One of the great ironies of our time, I think, is that we have more methods of communication now than we've ever had as a society (cell phones, social media, FarmersOnly.com), and yet we, collectively speaking, often seem to be utterly terrible at communicating. And I think this issue contributes to a great deal of the misunderstanding and misery we single adults deal with on a near-constant basis.

For example, many people feel more comfortable texting rather than holding an actual, face-to-face conversation. For a second example, I've actually had more than one singles ward bishop tell me that multiple young ladies in the ward felt they had no other recourse but to employ the help of bishopric members to, in turn, talk to a number of young men in the ward whose romantic intentions were bothering these young ladies. The message to be delivered was, "Leave me alone." This kind of turned the bishopric members into bouncers or goons hired by the mafia. Yet in the vast majority of these cases, no actual stalking was in any way involved; these young ladies just couldn't tell these men, who were for the most part honestly trying to make their intentions known, a direct "thanks, but no thanks" or some other clear message that they weren't interested.

This baffles me. But then again, I don't get calculus, either.

Unspoken expectations—the stuff we really want out of dating—can be frustrating if they are not made clear.

I had a conversation with one of my brothers recently in which he mentioned that a mutual female friend of ours, whom I've met in person maybe twice, wondered why I hadn't asked her out on a date. Well, for one thing, this nice young lady and I have had about three minutes total of actual conversation time. For another, I had gleaned absolutely no inkling from her that she was interested in more than polite conversation. (We men are terrible at distinguishing between someone who is being polite and someone who is actually interested in getting to know us better. This is an unspoken expectation I'm getting out there now.)

As the Peruvians would say (and this is a phrase definitely lost in translation): "No me llamó la atención."

There is nothing at all wrong, ladies, with saying something right to the point, such as: "I think it would be fun if we went out sometime and did (activity)." This is not even you actually asking the guy out, but it is making an unspoken expectation, well, spoken. I have had someone tell me this phrase, or something akin to it, only once in my decades of dating, and honestly I was pleasantly surprised by it. I called her a week or so later for a date, knowing with confidence that she was at least interested already even if she already had plans that week. It didn't work out for us, but I appreciated the honesty and the tactic she employed.

If it turns out that the guy is just not interested when you've been direct like this, well, you've had maybe five to 10 seconds of an uncomfortable moment, and then you can both move on, without wondering about any ifs and not second-guessing anything.

When you're in an actual relationship, well, I think expectations about how you'd like to be treated or things that would make you happy (some would say your "love language") need to be made known.

Two of my relationships in the past few years ended with an "exit interview" in which, in part, the person I had been dating had mentioned things she expected to happen in the relationship—actual specific actions or deeds she'd hoped I would do (you should've done this and this, and I would've appreciated it more if you hadn't done this other thing)—and yet these things were never mentioned until this last time. On both occasions, I asked her for another chance to do those things she had wished I'd been doing all along; and on both occasions, the reply was "no."

In other words, you can't get mad at someone for doing or not doing something important when you don't actually, audibly, clearly tell that person why that thing or things matter to you.

For example, she says: "Golly, there's a lot of dishes in the sink today."
He says: "Yeah, there are!" and continues playing Halo.

A better way to express what you're really trying to say would be the direct approach:

She says: "The dishes are really piling up today, and it's your turn to wash them, Joe."
He (clicking his heels together like one of the Von Trapp children in The Sound of Music): "You're right! Hail Hydra!" (He salutes her, military style.) Also, my name is Walter. (He then does the dishes. Ideally.)

Say what you mean. Don't drop hints. Don't drop no eaves, as Samwise Gamgee would say. I think this is a thing that would help us all.

That's just the opinion of one guy blogging at McDonald's because his home Internet has been down since Monday. I'm here all week, folks!

Point of No Return

How do you know you're getting old? You have another birthday. Or you just take a look at your digital watch, if you still have one of those antiquated devices from the 20th century. Watch the seconds tick on it. As each second passes, you're getting a second older.

You're getting older as you read these very words. No need to thank me!

There's another, more direct way to realize just you how old you're getting: Go and see your doctor, and he or she will tell you why all of your aches and pains mean you're aging much faster than you might think.

I recently visited my gastroenterologist, aka the tummy doctor, because I've had stomach and digestive issues nearly non-stop since living and working in South America for two years. If you catch my drift.

The good doc mentioned some dirty words, including: the "C" word ("colonoscopy") and the "F" word ("fiber").

Growing up, I would see commercials that mentioned nasty terms like these on TV, and they usually appeared in connection with products aimed at those who were old. Like old old.

Over age 30, at the time, is what I thought old was and would be, but that day was at least seven or eight decades away, even though mathematically it wasn't. Summers also lasted a lot longer then, too.

Was this anything like childhood for you?

Anyhow, the aforementioned doctor counseled me to make both fiber and probiotics a part of my daily diet. So, I've been doing that for a while now, and admittedly it has helped things a great deal. It has also helped me realize one important fact:

I've passed the point of no return.

"Come what may and love it," taught Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin. You mean, even getting older?

Yes, I think he meant that, too. Especially that.