From Harpo Marx’s autobiography, regarding his New York City pals:

They had changed along with the times. Seven or eight years ago we would have wound up an all-night party in Aleck’s apartment arguing about croquet or the stock market, or making up wild puns and nasty menus. Now we wound up talking (they did, I mean—I still listened) about the NRA, the CCC, FDR’s last Fireside Chat, and Fiorello La Guardia, the new mayor of New York. Sooner or later Adolf Hitler entered every conversation, which killed it, and everybody went home wrapped up in his own depressing thoughts.

The Washington Post brings to our attention David T. Fagan, father of eight and author of Guerrilla Parenting. (link) There are people you disagree with, but respect or like. There are others who share many opinions with you, yet still irritate you. I see value in how Fagan describes the rearing of his children: instilling self-reliance and industry, willingness to chart an independent path, not idolizing formal education, but he annoys me, and the most compact explanation why is that he is a salesman.

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The other day I cleaned a large surface with denatured alcohol and wore a blue nitrile glove on the hand holding the soaked rag. The next day I had a small spot to clean and didn’t bother with a glove since small amounts of skin contact with alcohol are not harmful; we often use isopropyl alcohol to clean skin. This led to musing on the concept of denatured alcohol. Denatured alcohol is 90% ethanol, an alcohol so mild to the body that people drink it. Drinking ethanol, while not acutely toxic, is still a problematic thing, so its distribution is controlled by law and heavily taxed. Ethanol is so useful for other things though, like fueling cars or cleaning, that it is worthwhile to have a way to distribute it in a form unsuitable for beverage consumption. So it is “denatured,” rendered unfit for drinking by mixing into it poisonous substances, traditionally methanol. Because ethanol is harmful to individuals and society, we make it safe to use freely by rendering it too toxic to ingest.

So, the LDS Church has released a four minute video explaining, and displaying, the garments and robes of the holy priesthood used by those endowed in LDS temples. (link) This probably reminded many of the publication in 1912 of James Talmage’s book The House of the Lord. David Rolph Seely explains:

On 16 September 1911, the Salt Lake Tribune published an account of certain individuals who had secretly taken pictures of the interior of the Salt Lake Temple and who had attempted to sell them to the church. The headlines read: “Photographs secretly taken of Mormon Temple’s interior; sent for sale to Church chief. President replies: Church will not negotiate with thieves and blackmailers.'” (more…)

From WTOP:

“An elementary school in Anne Arundel County closed early Friday because animal control couldn’t catch a feral cat in the building.

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“At the time of the ground-breaking, Mayor Michael Nutter hailed the project at 18th and Vine Streets for its projected infusion of millions of dollars into the local economy, as well as the 300 construction jobs it would create.

“Church officials contend the worship site is much-needed to serve the Philadelphia area’s estimated 35,000 parishioners.”

. . .

“The temple’s building contracts also give hiring preference to union-affiliated Mormon workers in the Philadelphia region. But none could be found, aside from one carpenter who may join the team when his skills are needed during the project’s later stages.” (link via Millennial Star)

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“Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone: but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit. He that loveth his life shall lose it; and he that hateth his life in this world shall keep it unto life eternal.”—John 12:24-25

Quince Rufus Pack at age 94 in 1952 remembers his life:

My dance hall was used by the people for any of the public dances, parties and so forth that they had. One night Fred Robinson had his wedding party and dance. Some of the fellows brought some liquor with them and really made a drunken brawl out of the party.

Two or three days later the Stake President came to see me and told me that if I didn’t quit selling liquor in my dance hall they would have to discontinue holding M.I.A. in my building. Now, I didn’t sell liquor in my store and like I said those fellows at Fred Robinson’s party brought their own. I tried to explain that to Lewis Pond, our Stake President, but he was angry and so was I and before long we were really having an argument.

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Ordain Women founder Kate Kelly has made a letter from her stake president public: link.

From the Washington Post:

Here is Adam McGavock, Metro’s sales director, describing what happens when a subway rider sticks a paper Farecard in any of the rail system’s 1,000 or so mezzanine gates.

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For a couple years I had an office at UCLA in a building called Engineering IV, a much nicer building than the utilitarian name might imply. My office and those of most I dealt with were on the fourth floor, but many mornings I would first ride the elevator up to the fifth floor to look out a large floor-to-ceiling window toward the southwest. Now and then the haze was light enough that I could see the ocean. There were no classrooms or lecture halls in this building, only offices and lab space, but it was a public building on a public university campus, so the hallways were open to the public, and we were told not to kick any strange people out, just call campus security if there was a problem.

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Sarah Alydia Terry Winsor (1857-1950), my great-great-grandmother, as remembered by her niece Orilla W. Hafen in 1961:

Aunt Lydia was one of the girl telegraph operators of pioneer days. The Deseret Telegraph line was extended from St. George to the mining camps of Pioche and Ely, Nevada in 1872, and it was found necessary to open an office in Hebron. (more…)

“A date is a planned activity that allows a young man and a young woman to get to know each other better. In cultures where dating is acceptable, it can help you learn and practice social skills, develop friendships, have wholesome fun, and eventually find an eternal companion.”

That passage from For the Strength of Youth used to make me think of settings where dating is not the way things are done like that of Brother and Sister Chon. Brother Chon, my bishop when I courted and wed Sister Mansfield, had been a missionary in his native Korea, and following his mission, his mission president took Brother and Sister Chon’s non-LDS fathers out to dinner and arranged a marriage. With the approval of the fathers obtained, the mission president brought the couple together to see what they thought of the idea. Sister Chon asked her proposed future husband if he would always pay tithing. He said he would, and she accepted him. It was sweet almost three decades after their introduction to one another to sit in their home and hear her tell her happiness in marrying a Mormon boy.

“You should not date until you are at least 16 years old. When you begin dating, go with one or more additional couples. Avoid going on frequent dates with the same person. Developing serious relationships too early in life can limit the number of other people you meet and can perhaps lead to immorality. Invite your parents to become acquainted with those you date.”

Over the last several years, it’s become apparent my early 21st Century American culture is another where dating of the For the Strength of Youth variety is not acceptable. The February New Era accurately describes the environment that youth in my ward have experienced: (more…)

Back in 1985, I was a missionary serving in Argentina. Not much news from the United States reached my ears. Destruction of the Challenger space shuttle. Deaths of Orson Welles and Yul Brynner. Among the things that didn’t penetrate the filter of distance and irrelevance were two bombing murders committed by a forger in Salt Lake City. (more…)

Through repetition a pattern emerges that would be ignored if only seen in a couple of instances. (more…)