JB's Birthday 2026, or: Niblings, the Next Generation

Over the weekend, JB celebrated another birthday. It was a busy Saturday for us, but we managed to fill it with a lot of good things with a lot of great people.

Firstly, we journeyed down to South Jordan for my high school buddy Clayton's mother's funeral. It was good to see my old friend, whom I hadn't seen for several years. (He and his family live in Atlanta.) I got to meet all four of their kids for the first time. Another high school buddy, Darren, sat by us for the funeral service, which contained wonderful tributes to a great lady. Clayton's older brother is actually Elder W. Mark Bassett, a General Authority Seventy of the Church, and was, as expected, one of the speakers. Whom we didn't expect to see was Elder Dale G. Renlund of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, who presided and who was the concluding speaker. Elder Renlund offered an Apostolic blessing on the Bassett family, and the Spirit was so strong as he spoke.

From there, we trekked down to Salem in Utah County for our great-nephew Levi's baby blessing. (Yes, we now have two grand-nephews.) Two-month-old Levi's dad, Dallin, performed the ordinance. We took a number of pics of baby Levi, along with his parents, Dallin and Eliza, and several others, but we are also honoring their request not to post any pics of him online. Another kid we got to meet for the first time was six-month-old Beau Nelson, our cousin Madison's and her husband, Wyatt's, baby boy. A number of family members on both sides joined us for this occasion.

Lastly, we traveled to Provo to meet up with our niece, Olivia, and her husband, Caleb, who are BYU students, for JB's birthday dinner, featuring sushi and pho, at Saida's on University Ave. It was a great end to a great day.

50

In spite of my best efforts, I had another birthday on Friday. This one was a pretty big number and something of a milestone for me. All I can say is that it was one more than 49 and one fewer than 51.

I don't know how I got here. Where has the time gone? Emotionally, I feel like I'm about half that age at best; meanwhile, my body feels like it is 20 or 30 years older than that.

Anyhow, JB spoiled me rotten. She took me out to lunch at Penny Ann's Cafe in Bountiful, one of our favorite new local restaurants, where we always seem to get breakfast food, no matter the time of day. Apparently, if you tell your server that it's your birthday, they will bring you a free scone to accompany your meal.

JB also took painstaking time and effort to collect recorded video birthday greetings from family members, a few close friends (Pepe and Darren), and myriad members of the Improvables. It was very well put together and was very touching. I'm truly blessed to have wonderful people in my life.

Finally, many of the same people from that video congregated at our house that evening for karaoke, featuring also pumpkin cheesecake, chips, and other snacks.

At one break in the action, I caught Danny taking the pumpkins only from JB's bowl of candy corn treats. (The thing is, I also do this.)

The partygoers picked out "Weird Al" Yankovic's "One More Minute" for me to sing. I accepted. Ben, Steve, and I collaborated on Mr. Big's "To Be with You." Many of the niblings got in on the act, and I even convinced JB to sing "That Thing You Do!", which is of course the title track of one of our favorite movies.

We ended the evening by watching BYU play West Virginia in college football. The Cougars beat the Moutaineers, 38-24.

"Weird Al" Returns

One of my favorite performers, the great "Weird Al" Yankovic, returned to Utah on the Bigger & Weirder tour with a stop at the Maverik Center in West Valley City on Monday, June 23. It had been ten years since I'd last seen Al in concert, and I didn't want to miss another one.

So, Pepe and I got tickets (nine months ago actually) and went to the show. This was my eighth time seeing "Weird Al" in concert, and Pepe has been with me through the majority of them.

A performer I'd never heard of before, Puddles Pity Party, was the opening act. He was dressed up like a clown, but once you got over any similarities to a murderous clown a la Stephen King, PPP was actually a pretty fun and talented singer. Our favorite number of his was his cover of the "Gilligan's Island" theme song, set to the tune of Led Zeppelin's "Stairway to Heaven."

When the main man, Al, came on the stage, the whole place went bananas (noise wise). We were treated to a wonderful show. He performed many of his favorite tunes, including "White and Nerdy," "Dare to Be Stupid," "Fat," "Amish Paradise," "One More Minute," "Word Crimes," "Canadian Idiot," "Mission Statement," and so many others.

For a man who's now 65 years old, Al is still pretty limber and athletic, and he moves around the stage pretty easily.

The evening couldn't end without an encore, and this one included Al's two Star Wars-inspired songs: "The Saga Begins" and "Yoda."

Do you feel like you missed out? Well, come with us to the next one. Hopefully, it won't be another ten years from now.

Improvables: Christmas Party 2023

Members of the Improvables improv troupe gathered together on Saturday, December 16, for our annual Christmas party and white elephant exchange. It's been a rough year for us, having lost our beloved friend and colleague Megan in August. Her absence was felt at this holiday party. But we also feel she would've wanted us to carry on, be happy, and enjoy each other's company, and that is what we did.

Jamie and Tanner hosted at their lovely home in Taylorsville. It was a very foggy evening, but still the majority of the troupe members found their way there. The food was delectable, and the company was even better.

Always one of the highlights of the Christmas season, our white elephant gift exchange was another memorable one. I might be a bit biased, but one of the noteworthy gifts contributed (by yours truly) was a pair of Pickle-as Cage (get it?) tree ornaments. There were bobbleheads, clothes, toys, and other goodies for young and older alike.

Perhaps our collective favorite was a box of approximately 200 odd-sized grey beanies, given together as one gift in a large box. (You had to be there.) There were enough beanies to go around that we all posed for the above picture.

Mom's Funeral

How do you measure the life and love of a wonderful mother? I have no idea. I won't even try. (I posted the tribute I gave at her funeral in my previous post, if you'd like to read what I shared.)

Our angel mother passed away on Sunday, November 19, at age 80. We held her public viewing a week later at Russon Brothers Mortuary in Bountiful on Sunday, November 26. Before the public arrived, there was a brief message about death and dying that one of the staff shared with our nieces and nephews, and he did very well with such a difficult topic.

I especially love the above pic of Kira consoling her younger cousin Katy.

Extended family members and good friends and neighbors poured in by the dozens to pay their respects, share their memories, and give hugs upon more hugs. This number included some of Dad's childhood friends, people we've known since we moved to Bountiful in the late 1970s, and even some dear friends from our Puerto Rico years who now live in Utah.

The well wishers on this evening included our (JB's) nephew Spencer, who is now laboring as a service missionary for the Church.

The next morning, on Monday, November 27, a second viewing was held at the West Bountiful 5th Ward building in West Bountiful. (This is the ward Mom belonged to before moving to the care center, and they graciously agreed to host.)

Once again, several extended family and friends were there to mourn with us. Something you're reminded of at times like these is that they really help you know who your true friends are. Gratefully, our family has been blessed with the very best friends, neighbors, and ward families (past and present) that I could possibly imagine.

Our Sanders cousins Shellie and Denny, Jamie and Julie, Scott and Claudia and a number of their kids, and Sherrie and Aaliyah made the trip (from California and Utah County, respectively) to be there with us.

Following a family prayer offered by my sister, the funeral service in the chapel came next. All six of Mom's kids spoke, too—and we actually spoke in the same order we previously spoke in for Dad's funeral in April 2017. Bishop David Wood, Jeff's brother, presided and was the concluding speaker.

Admittedly, it was the musical number, the Primary favorite "I'm Trying to Be like Jesus," performed by our nieces and nephews and accompanied by Summer on the piano, that made me tear up the most.

As one of the pallbearers, I accompanied Mom's coffin, along with my fellow pallbearers (my brothers and three oldest nephews), out to the waiting hearse at the conclusion of the service. Our family friend and neighbor Lance Lindsay stood outside to play "Scotland the Brave," "Amazing Grace," and other folk tunes on the bagpipes as we left. A Brit by birth, Mom absolutely adored the bagpipes, and she and Dad would have savored this precious moment.

(After that, watching the end of Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan will never be the same for me.)

After being provided with sack lunches by the amazing Relief Society of the West Bountiful 5th Ward, we carpooled up to the Smithfield City Cemetery to lay Mom to rest beside our Dad. It was a chilly November afternoon (about 30° F), yet the sky was clear, and the sun still shone upon us.

Since my oldest brother, Mike, had previously dedicated Dad's grave, my siblings decided that I, as second oldest, should be the one to dedicate Mom's grave. This was perhaps the most humbling moment of my life. (I learned a lot about the ordinance by studying the Church's handbook of instructions, just in case you were wondering what a graveside dedication consists of.) I did the best knew how to do with such a significant responsibility.

After that, someone had the brilliant idea to pass out magic markers so that everyone could write one final message to Mom on her coffin. I think that this activity was most therapeutic for the niblings, because it gave them something tangible to do to convey their tender feelings.

No trip up to Smithfield is complete without a visit to Gossner's Dairy in Logan, so we stopped there for squeaky cheese and egg nog for the trip home. We had never tried their egg nog before, as we are usually in Cache Valley either around Memorial Day or in the summer on our way to/from Bear Lake. It was great!

Finally, to cap off the day, we gathered at Joy Luck Chinese restaurant back in Bountiful for dinner together with our cousins. One of Mom's favorite places to eat, where the owner has known her and most of us by name for many years, they provided us with another delicious meal.

You can't spell the word funeral without the word fun, per se, but there's not much about the experience that you'd hope to take part in frequently. Nevertheless, I'm grateful for eternal families, and I'm glad that we did it together.

Improvables: Megan's Tribute Show

Still reeling from the loss of our dear friend and troupe co-owner Megan, we nevertheless marched forward and put on a tribute show/fundraiser for her daughter, Roxie, on Friday night at the Bountiful Davis Art Center. As they say in show biz, the show must go on. We feel that Megan would've wanted us to put on a funny show even amidst the tears that were collectively shed, and that is what happened.

We shattered out previous attendance record with more than 100 attendees in chairs. Among those present were several of Megan's family members, former students, and other acquaintances. Together, we were able to raise over $1,500, which is also by far our best fundraiser ever.

The show itself included appearances by several improvisers past and present, under the direction of co-MCs Erica and Ricky. Some of my favorite moments included this scene set in a bowling alley/shooting range in "Sing It":

... along with Richard's "Advice Panel" character Shy Jerome:

There were hearty chuckles all around, just like Megan would've wanted there to be. Her departure leaves a large hole in our troupe that will be difficult to fill.

Goodbye, Megan

This past weekend, JB and I, along with the Improvables troupe, lost our dear friend Megan. It doesn't make sense. I don't know if it ever will. We are grieving but are also grateful.

Grateful to have been her friend. Grateful to have shared the stage with her for over a decade and to have seen her unique brilliance in action. Grateful to have known the genuine, selfless person she is off stage. Grateful to have visited a number of her classrooms to help teach her improv workshops and to see how her students love her and thrive with her teaching. Grateful she helped JB and me to take on troupe ownership as we brought Improvables back after a lengthy pandemic hiatus. Grateful for many late-night meals after shows and shared karaoke nights and birthday parties (our birthdays being only three days apart; Libras rule!). Grateful to have gotten to know her family, including stepkids and especially Tiny Human, whom we love like one of our own nieces.

We love you, and we miss you.

Paco's Class Reunion

I have an announcement to make: Paco is officially Old. As in, Old with a capital O. Because I've now been to my 30-year high school reunion, held on Friday night at Bountiful High School.

I've been to every class reunion I've been invited to: 5, 10, 20, and now 30 years. But this year's was my favorite, because I (finally!) didn't have to go all by myself. I got to take JB along with me and introduce her to a number of classmates and friends.

Besides those with whom I'm in semi-regular contact (Pepe and Darren among them), I got to see other people I hadn't seen since the last reunion 10 years ago and still others whom I'd not seen since the 10-year reunion or graduation. Among those people was the "Paquita" to my "Paco," a classmate of mine for all three years of high school Spanish; my sixth-grade crush from elementary school; and my senior prom date, who fortunately will still speak to me in public.

In summation of what I learned from seeing these old friends, let me just say this: Many if not most of the women look just about the same as they did in high school, while many of the men look noticeably balder/grayer and/or heavier. (I'm not above pandering; men have nothing I want.)

In addition, we got to tour the remodeled entryway to the school and cafeteria. We also got to go into the old fallout shelter, which I hadn't been to since my Driver's Ed class. And as for the old "smoking" Indian in the foyer? He now holds an actual arrow rather than what used to appear to be a cigarette. (If that last part makes no sense whatsoever, then ask me about it in person sometime.)

It was great to be with the Braves (not Red Hawks) of yesteryear for a few hours. I hope it's not another 10 years before I get to see them again.

Pepe Graduates from the TabCho

On Sunday, Jana and I traveled to Temple Square for the first time since the pandemic started. Temple Square renovation began just a few months before that, so really there hasn't been too much going on there in the past few years that we have missed.

Anyhow, the Tabernacle Choir and Orchestra at Temple Square are back as of a few months ago, and they are once again performing new "Music and the Spoken Word" broadcasts for the public each Sunday morning at 9:30. This particular occasion also marked the retirement of more than 30 TCAOATS members, including my lifelong friend, John "Pepe" Abercrombie.

Generally speaking, TabCho members may remain in the choir for 20 years or until age 55, whichever comes first. However, Pepe found a loophole to stay for about 22½ years altogether. He joined toward the end of 1999, and therefore, he reached his 20 years' mark at the end of 2019, with a planned retirement broadcast/concert set for the spring of 2020. As you all know by now, many live theater and musical groups (including Improvables!) closed down or postponed operations indefinitely at that time, which ended up being about 18 months for the TCAOATS. Ergo, this retirement ceremony featured a large number of retiring TabCho and Orchestra members who hit their 20-year marks or reached age 55 during the pandemic.

It was wonderful to be back in the historic Tabernacle. Likewise, it was wonderful to hear the TCAOATS live for the first time in years, because the TV broadcast just doesn't do justice to how great they sound in person. The retirement ceremony that followed the broadcast included conductor Mack Wilberg and Choir President Michael Leavitt (former governor of Utah) presenting plaques to each retiree.

It was good to run into a number of friends and other familiar faces who still perform with TCAOATS or who attended. As for Pepe, he tells me he'll spend the Thursday nights and Sunday mornings he now has free by looking for another musical group or groups to continue to sing with, which I'm sure will include at least his ward choir. It'll be odd not seeing his face among Choir members at future general conferences and concerts, but life goes on.

Adios, Amigo

It's been nearly two months since my friend Jared very unexpectedly passed away. I haven't written anything about this till now because I've been trying to collect my thoughts and use the right words. I still don't know if I have those words. But here goes anyway.

Jared was my friend. (Is there a loftier title for someone not related to you by blood who chooses to be a part of your life? I can't think of one.) I knew him for more than two decades, and with all of life's changes—his first marriage, address and job changes, health challenges, his second marriage, then my  own marriage—he remained my friend. He was interested in me and my life and kept inviting me to do things with him and our mutual friends, many of whom I wouldn't have met if not for him, through those changes.

The older I am, the more I've realized what a rare blessing it is to have friends like this. So many others become either mere acquaintances or strangers; and though you might see them on Facebook or other social media channels once in a while, they otherwise disappear completely from your life. My experience has shown me that it's not that common to count on friends to continue to show up in your life over the years.

He had his quirks. For example, there was the time we were playing ultimate Frisbee, and the disc got thrown into and lost somewhere inside a tall patch of weeds; Jared got in his car and plowed into the middle of the weeds to retrieve the Frisbee. There were also group games we'd play, only with Jared around, like "Spin the Body" (trust me, you had to be there). Or the night of playing Balderdash when every answer turned into made-up trivia about John Denver (sorry, Kirsten).

If you knew him, you knew that Jared sometimes did other odd things and could sometimes rub people the wrong way. (Nobody's perfect.) In spite of that, Jared also possessed the ability to reach out to and include other people—people who often wouldn't be included by others—in his activities, parties, and game nights. It is a trait which I admired greatly and have tried to emulate in my own life.

I don't know if he quite knew just how important video game nights playing Halo, Rock Band, or San Francisco Rush 2049 were to me during a period of my life during which I was severely depressed. Very few people in my life know just how bleak things got for me, and it didn't get better for a long time. Yet one constant was video game night every other Friday night at Jared's house, and it gave me something to do and got me out of the house when little else could.

Jared was also among those who made it out to see me perform improv, a unique accomplishment considering many friends and acquaintances have had other plans on literally every single Friday night for the past 13+ years I’ve performed in Davis County. (No, I’m not calling anyone out. Just sayin’.)

The photo below is from a murder mystery dinner Jared, mutual friends of ours, and I participated in on February 15, 2003. The theme was "Roman Ruins," which is why we're all dressed up in togas and such. I played Caesar, ergo the crown of leaves:

About a year-and-a-half ago, Jared and I had an argument online. Why and about what—that's no longer important. I felt like he was the instigator and had said some things that were uncalled for and also weren't true. After that, we didn't speak for several months.

Then out of the blue, around Christmas time last year, he contacted me to apologize. He was sincere, he frankly admitted he had made what he called an "inexcusable" mistake, and he asked for my forgiveness. How could I not say I forgave him? I felt his request was in earnest, and. freely, I told him I did forgive. Between people who had been friends as long as we'd been, I told him I owed him the to never bring up the matter again.

I'm so glad, so incredibly relieved we had that talk. Had the silence between us gone on much longer, it might've been too late to make amends in the here and now. Regret is a painful emotion. Fortunately, I will have that memorable experience to look back on at future Christmas seasons.

This experience led me to recall the sage counsel of President Howard W. Hunter, which was given at Christmas time but is applicable throughout the calendar year:

"This Christmas, mend a quarrel. Seek out a forgotten friend. Dismiss suspicion and replace it with trust. Write a letter. Give a soft answer. Encourage youth. Manifest your loyalty in word and deed. Keep a promise. Forgo a grudge. Forgive an enemy. Apologize. Try to understand. Examine your demands on others. Think first of someone else. Be kind. Be gentle. Laugh a little more. Express your gratitude. Welcome a stranger. Gladden the heart of a child. Take pleasure in the beauty and wonder of the earth. Speak your love, and then speak it again."

This is wonderful advice. I know from firsthand experience that it matters a lot. If something like this is unresolved in your life, I invite you to do what you can to make amends today, and to do it now. It may be too late tomorrow.

The Gift of Inclusion

A few years ago, my sister had the keen foresight, before Dad's illness, to have him read and record the Christmas story, as found in second chapter of Luke, in a booth at the studio she where worked. Now that he has passed on, being able to listen to him read that story on Christmas Eve has become a pearl of great price for our family as we celebrate the holiday.

There are many important details in the Christmas story. Among them, I find it interesting that the Savior, who would be so sorely rejected by His own people in His earthly ministry, faced rejection on the very night of His birth. It was the infamous innkeeper on that Christmas Eve over 2,000 years ago who found no room for Joseph, Mary, and their soon-to-be-born child in the inn.

In this month's (December 2019) Ensign, the Ministering Principles article is titled "What the Christmas Story Teaches Us about Inclusion." It includes this concept:

"The innkeeper failed to make room for the Savior, but we don't have to make that mistake! We can make room for the Savior in our hearts by making room for our brothers and sisters at our tables, in our homes, and in our traditions. ...

"What better way to celebrate the Savior than to follow His example of inclusion? Remember that He invites 'all to come unto him and partake of his goodness; and he denieth none that come unto him, black and white, bond and free, male and female; and he remembereth the heathen; and all are alike unto God, both Jew and Gentile' (2 Nephi 26:33). Make room and create inclusion."


Recently, I read a number of Dad's old books now sitting on Mom's bookshelves, one of which is Elder Neal A. Maxwell's All These Things Shall Give Thee Experience. In this book, Elder Maxwell teaches the same concept:

"So often what people need is to be sheltered from the storms of life in the sanctuary of belonging. Such a service cannot be rendered by selfish people, however, because the response of the selfish will always be that there is no room in their inn. Chronic self-concern means that the 'No Vacancy' sign is always posted" (p. 55).

Experiences in both my growing up younger years and my adult years have taught me that the gift of including others is indeed a gift of the spirit, and a rare one at that. How few truly possess the ability to lift up the hands that hang low, to include others within their spheres of influence.

Growing up here in Our Lovely Deseret, I found it more common to be excluded than included by my peers. I wish I could say that has changed as an adult, but truth be told, it is not really any different. I look at the past and the present and see far more acquaintances than friends. It is not from a lack of trying. When people and/or groups continually show indifference to your efforts, it ends up not being worth the effort in the long run.

This is not to say I am lonely or entirely without friends. I'm just saying that life's experiences teach you who your friends are, largely by who shows up for things and who wants to be a part of things. The Lord has blessed me with incredible friends. They have been answers to specific prayers.

There will always be those who will exclude, I suppose. For all I know, they will go on excluding into their days in the old folks home. The thing is, I can't do anything about them. People are gonna do what they're gonna do. Their circles will stay the way they have always been.

This Christmas, and going into the new year, I am asking for the gift of inclusion. I am hoping to renew my efforts to minister to those in my family, my neighborhood, my ward, my workplace, and my community. Heaven knows there are those who need it.

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.

The First Presidency's Christmas Devotional

It's good to have friends in high places, and one of mine is good old Pepe. We've known each other and have been friends since literally pre-school.

Pepe has been a member of the Tabernacle Choir at Temple Square (or the artists formerly known as the Mormon Tabernacle Choir) for many years now. Most of those years, at about this time of year, he has generously given me tickets to attend the First Presidency's Christmas Devotional down at the Conference Center. It is always a wonderful experience attending an evening of inspirational Christmas messages, as well as listening to music from the TabChoir and Orchestra at Temple Square.

JB and I went on our first date, in fact, to the devotional two years ago. Last year, we attended once more, just a week after we got engaged. And for the third straight year, we attended Sunday night for the first time as a married couple.

The Conference Center was beautifully decorated.

The devotional itself was marvelous. The speakers were Sister Sharon Eubank of the Relief Society General Presidency; Elder Terence M. Vinson of the Presidency of the Seventy; Elder Gary E. Stevenson of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles; and finally our prophet, Pres. Russell M. Nelson. It was incredible to sit just a stone's throw from a prophet of God, hearing his inspired counsel.

The TabChoir and orchestra performed "The First Noel," "Silent Night," "Oh Come, All Ye Faithful," and the "Hallelujah" chorus from Handel's great work Messiah. Years ago, Dad taught me years that you always stand for any performance of the "Hallelujah" chorus, following a precedent set by the British king George II, who was so moved when he first heard it that he stood up.

And so, when in Rome, etc.

After the devotional, we took a stroll around Temple Square, in spite of a light snowstorm, to see the lights, which are always a beautiful sight.

It's an added bonus to have a beautiful person at your side.

Ghosted

Being ghosted: It's a scary topic. Which is why I guess I am writing about it on Halloween. Also, JB is home sick, and we didn't go out partying anywhere tonight. So, I guess you could say I now fully belong to the Old, Boring, Married (OBM) crowd on holidays such as these.

Have you ever had someone "ghost" you? This is when a person, whatever his/her reasons, completely cuts off any and/or all communication with you and basically pretends like you either don't exist or never existed in the first place. In the same amount of time it took Thanos to snap his fingers, poof! You're dead and gone to them.

I have had this happen to more than once. Odds are, so have you.

Sooner or later, we all get unfriended on social media. The casual acquaintances, the people with whom I went on a date or two, that person I home taught for one month and I then got a new assignment, the person I worked with for three months' time 15 or so years ago---I don't mind it when these people consider me no longer worth keeping in their circle of friends. I understand that.

It's when the people I've known for years and years ghost me that I'm genuinely perplexed. (Fortunately, I no longer lose any sleep at all over the girls I dated who ghosted me. I'm happy to say that that part of my life is over and done with and six feet under.)

Recently, I was saddened to discover a friend I grew up with had severed me as a social media friend. This is someone with whom I grew up in the same ward, went all through elementary and high school, took part in several scouting activities---even someone whose family took me with them on a summer vacation out of state.

This friend and I disagree on a certain political, moral, and cultural issue. I don't know for certain but strongly suspect that this was his friendship dealbreaker.

I am reminded of the words of President John Taylor, who said:

"If there be trouble existing between me and anybody else, I would meet them half way, yes, I would meet them three quarters or even all of the way. I would feel like yielding; I would say, I do not want to quarrel, I want to be a Saint. I have set out for purity, virtue, brotherhood, and for obedience to the laws of God on earth, and for thrones and principalities and dominions in the eternal worlds, and I will not allow such paltry affairs to interfere with my prospects. I am for life, eternal lives and eternal exaltations in the kingdom of God."

In other words, I don't want to lose a friend over a simple disagreement. I am concerned with bigger fish to fry.

Though I wish to lose no friends through my social media posting, I nevertheless will continue to stand up for the things I believe in, things that I feel truly matter to me. Elder Kevin W. Pearson of the Seventy recently said of social media:

"Much of the content needed for websites and YouTube must come from independent sources ... and individual members of the Church. Your voices must be heard on social media, wherever you live.

"We must be a voice for truth. We must have the faith and courage to speak up and engage in social media in a positive, responsible, noncontentious and effective way. We can simply share what we know and believe with others" (emphasis added).

Admittedly, I am still figuring out the best ways to share things non-contentiously and effectively. I sometimes make mistakes. I realize I have not always picked and chosen my battles wisely, but I'm trying to do better at that and will continue to do so in the future. If we disagree on anything at any time, it's not personal, and it never will be. I will not ghost you for any reason, nor will I fail to hit my brakes if I see you crossing the street.

I'm also reminded at this moment that the aforementioned friend I've spoken of in this post is an exception to the rule; the vast majority still remain my friends regardless of our differences. If you're reading this, then congratulations, you're one of the ones who has stuck with me through thick and thin. I'm grateful for each of you.

And, by the way, your Halloween pictures and stories are awesome. Keep up the great work.

Our Reception

So! As you recall from my previous post, JB and I got married last month. What inevitably follows is a reception (because this is Utah after all, and we do weddings big), and ours was held Saturday, April 21, at the Centerville tabernacle.

Family and friends from all walks of life showed up to wish us well. It was a beautiful spring evening, and the company was wonderful, too. Some friends I had not seen in person for decades, and it was great catching up with everyone.

Before the reception officially started, we gathered for family photos. Here are yours truly and JB with 13 of the 14 Plowman nieces and nephews (niblings):

This was our cake:

. . . which neither JB nor I smashed into each other's face, as per previously agreed-upon rules.

Toward the end of the reception, there was dancing. Here's JB and me during our first dance:

. . . and here's the family and friends joining in on doing "The Hustle" to the Bee Gees' "Stayin' Alive":

For those family members and friends reading this who may not have made it there, you were there with us in spirit. We are grateful for each one of you and for all of those who lent a hand to put together a fantastic evening and beginning to our marriage. We have been floored by the number of incredible gifts that were given so thoughtfully by so many of you.