The Blessing of an A Minus...

There is a great parenting book titled “The Blessing of a B Minus” by Wendy Mogel. The theme of the book is summed up well in the following quote:

“What parents don’t realize is that there is still a normal curve. Most kids are in the middle. Some kids will never love to read or never be good at math and they can still lead productive, happy lives.” (Wendy Mogel)

As a returning student after decades away, I don’t have parental pressure, but I still push myself. Suddenly I’m the one that has to be gifted....or else. And, this quarter I had one class that I was not only not gifted in, I was below the curve.

I felt behind from the first day as one of the two English majors who had never taken statistics. We both came to every class completely bewildered after the course readings. But, the material started to make sense gradually, thanks to a good professor and a study group that took pity on us and explained concepts in ways we understood.

Well, after spending inordinate amounts of study time, my final grade for the course was an A minus. Was I disappointed with the minus? Not a chance! I was happy to earn any kind of A. After all, this was a class I nearly dropped after the first week I was so confused.

The grade wasn’t a gift either. I spent more effort on that class for that A minus, than my other courses simply because my natural abilities made those classes easier.

And, maybe it’s because I’m a returning student, after such a long hiatus, but I relish the satisfaction of working hard and succeeding in a tough (for me) class.

Yes, this A minus really was a blessing! I earned it but I appreciate it too.

“I can feel how large, how essential this moment is as it’s happening; that is what I have come to love about being an adult, to the extent that I can claim that title: that one knows more about how good things are, how much they matter, as they’re happening, that knowledge isn’t necessarily retrospective anymore.

When I was younger, I missed so much, failing to be fully present, only recognizing the quality of particular moments and gifts after the fact. Perhaps that’s the one thing that being “grown up” is: to realize in the present the magnitude or grace of what we’re being offered.” -Mark Doty

Growing Up...

“You may say, But wasn’t this the Sixties? Yes, but only for some people, only in certain parts of the country.” - Julian Barnes

Yes, I grew up in the Sixties (and Seventies too) but the 60’s in Salt Lake City wasn't quite like the 60’s in Haight Ashbury. I was living in the wrong city for any big immersion in the psychedelic hippie culture.

Plus, I was only 10 when the big Woodstock festival took place. Needless to say, I wasn’t in attendance.

Where was I? Well, in junior high days (before any of us could drive) we were haunting the streets of downtown SLC. Truly. My buddies and I thought we were real hot shots taking the city bus downtown.

So, yesterday was almost a deja vu because Brent had meetings and I was downtown without a car, so I wandered to the library, the new City Creek development, and all over the downtown. It felt nostalgic to traipse about by foot everywhere.

Except, of course, you can never quite come back. Salt Lake City is much cooler than when I was young. We didn’t have UTA Trax, or the Gateway, or a big new Whole Foods in Trolley Square. In fact, I can remember what a big deal it was when Trolley Square opened in the early 1970’s.

The highlight yesterday was connecting with Mike and Linda Dunn for dinner, where we did more fun reminiscing about the good old days. Linda definitely taught me the ropes for some of our wild and crazy (Utah style) adventures downtown. Our version of the Sixties!

“When people talk about the good old days, I say to people, ‘It’s not the days that are old, it’s you that’s old.’” -Karl Lagerfeld

Location, Location...

According to Google Maps, Brent and I are heading to the red dot in the center of Salt Lake City (aka The Grand America Hotel).

When it comes to watching General Conference, my preference is to take it all in on my couch (maybe even in my pajamas).

But, Brent’s more of a 'be there or be square' kind of guy, so he likes to be right at the conference center.

I was willing to compromise since we are staying at a nice hotel, and truthfully, it might have been a little lonely watching conference solo in Los Gatos. So, it’s a quick trip to Utah for a couple of days, then home to start school for my 3rd quarter.

Bring It On?

I didn't really notice how dated our house is until designers, contractors, and architects started rummaging through it.

Okay, I knew it could use a face lift but I’m fairly reticent to start changing things because of the snowball effect.

For instance, our hardwood floors desperately need re-finishing but they encroach into the kitchen where the tile and cabinets are old too. So, pretty soon sprucing things up feels overwhelming and potentially more expensive than I’d like.

That’s the scope of the project in prose, below is my rough attempt in poetic form:

For years we’ve considered updating the house,

Especially now, since it’s just me and the spouse.

But to remodel the kitchen, the flooring spills over,

And suddenly the makeover’s all inclusive, moreover.

Choosing cabinets and fixtures and the whole kitchen sink,

I’m afraid details and decisions could drive me to drink! (diet coke, that is)

And, what if we temporarily had to move out and into a rental,

With my reluctance to change, I could go certifiably mental.

Remodel veterans will caution, "over budget you’ll spend,

And the project drags on, it could seem to no end."

When I take in these thoughts, there is a part of my brain,

That says, considering any remodel is rather insane.

Better to live in a place that, while dated, is home,

Than to go crazy deciding over platinum or chrome! -K2

Behind Every Good Man....

“I am so mad at the press, I could just strangle them.” - Ann Romney, quoted by National Review on how it was getting harder and harder to be cheerful.

Ann is such a trooper! We got to hear both she and Mitt speak last night at another Bay Area fundraising event and Ann is a big asset for the campaign.

I loved Ann’s comments about the 2008 campaign. After it all, she told Mitt they were never doing that again and Mitt reminded Ann that she said that after every pregnancy! And, they went on to have 5 sons!

So, as far as the election, Ann did relinquish and 4 years later they have to go through all the drama again. And, I’m pretty impressed that in spite how tawdry it can get during the media scrutiny, Ann is committed and articulate and a great spokesperson for the Romney campaign.

Ann is definitely Mitt’s biggest cheerleader, and 2 words she uses to describe him are character and competent. Obviously I agree with her assessment and I think Mitt is awfully fortunate to have such a classy wife! Go Ann! Go Mitt!

“Ann is also my best counselor. There is no issue that is important to me, political or personal, in terms of personnel type issues, that I don’t ask Ann’s advice.” -Mitt Romney

Come Together....

“Come Together, Right Now...Over Me” - The Beatles

Just a week ago it looked like Andie might be moving back to Los Gatos. She’d signed over her Menlo Park lease to another girl and had to be out by the end of March.

But, everything in Palo Alto that felt good was too expensive and everything affordable didn’t seem like a viable option. Hence, things were not panning out, so an interim move back to 25 Alpine was the plan.

Still, as much as Andie adored the idea of moving back in with us (who wouldn’t want to live with us, right?), she claimed the commute to teach in Palo Alto was the vexing problem. Or maybe we were problem and she didn’t have the heart to tell us. But, either which way, it was looking inevitable (much to Andie’s chagrin).

Then, Andie was saved by an 11th hour housing option that miraculously “came together.” We’d been planning to load her stuff last Friday night and bring it back to LG on Saturday. But, she and another gal saw a place Thursday night, signed a lease on Friday and we helped them move in on Saturday.

Every now and then, things just seem to come together! Andie feels quite certain that higher powers were looking out for her on this one. And, hopefully she’ll still come down to LG to hang with the old folks too!

Did You Really Just Say That To Me?

Sentimental Moment or Why Did the Baguette Cross the Road?

by Robert Hershon

Don’t fill up on bread

I say absent-mindedly

The servings here are huge

My son, whose hair may be receding a bit, says

Did you really just say that to me?

What he doesn’t know

is that when we’re walking

together, when we get

to the curb

I sometimes start to reach

for his hand

Oh, how I relate to this poem! It doesn’t matter how old my kids get, the reflex to parent them always remains. The reality they’ve grown up and don’t need me telling them to “look both ways” before crossing the street is hard to grasp.

Hershon describes this sentiment in a great poem with very few words. I can perfectly imagine being somewhere like Willow Street and reminding my kids (okay, my adult children) to go easy filling up on the bread but I would never in a million years impose my opinion on my friends. What’s up with that? And, I’ve also had those moments where I forget that my kids no longer need curb assistance. Love this poem!

Famous Last Words!

I still remember my dad's laughter when he told me about a headstone that read: "I told you I was sick.” Because I also find that funny, I guess I must share a similar sense of humor with Gramps.

When it comes to famous last words, I read a story about a 91 year old man who, prior to his death, was very clear with his daughter that he wanted to be cremated and have his ashes scattered along the Charles River in Boston. His wife wanted a more conventional funeral for him.

Upon his death, his daughter was able to share the last words he wanted spoken on his behalf. At his funeral service she conveyed the message her father wanted: "Just tell them," he said, "To those of you that knew me, well, you knew me. To those of you that didn't, you missed something.”

And, then his daughter concluded simply by saying: "I knew him, and I miss him.”

Spring Break...

Santa Clara University is on a quarters (not semesters) schedule and my Winter Quarter is officially over. Spring Break begins today and classes start up again on Monday, April 2nd.

I’ve taken my tests and turned in the last of my papers, research proposals, etc. Woo Hoo! I don’t know my grades yet (minor detail) but I loved all my classes and it would be pretty lame to do poorly in courses you enjoy. At least that’s what I’m banking on.

Okay, I didn’t technically enjoy the Statistics/Research Methods curriculum but the professor was great so that mitigated the fact it was difficult for me to make sense of ANCOVA, reliability coefficients, frequency distributions and kurtosis (just to name a few of the obscure terms I’ve been trying to master).

I’ve got a big 'ole stack of books I’ve been anxious to devour, just enjoyment reading (no textbooks!) as soon as the break arrived. Can’t wait.....

Families of Missionaries...

It’s often said that families are blessed when they have a missionary serving in the field.

I felt this was true for our family when Webb was in Russia and Julie Holland mentioned it last week when Rachael (Hermana Holland) was released.

While my nephew, Alex, has been serving in Armenia, his older brother, Andrew, became a dad when Caitlin delivered James McNally Olsen last September.

Last week, Andrew, Caitlin, and baby James went on vacation to the Grand Canyon. When they were heading home on Saturday a driver across the median fell asleep and crossed over into their lane. Caitlin was driving and tried to swerve out of the way but they hit and their car rolled.

They were taken by ambulance (Andrew & baby James) and a Life Flight helicopter (Caitlin) to a hospital in Flagstaff, Arizona. Miraculously, other than some scratches, baby James was fine. Andrew’s neck is hurt but he was released the following day. And Caitlin, who suffered the most serious injuries, had a concussion and some head trauma.

But, they’re now all out of the hospital and healing at home. It was really touching to read my sister’s email about how much they feel like Alex’s mission service blessed their family through this frightening ordeal.

In another tender mercy, when the hospital in Arizona (where the Olsens knew no one) learned they were LDS, they sent members over to give them blessings AND a family in the local ward took James to their home and cared for him while Andrew and Caitlin were hospitalized.

Thank goodness for Elder Olsen in Armenia and church members in Arizona who reached out to help!

Class Participation...

One of the Peanuts comic strips has Charlie Brown, Linus, and Lucy lying on a hillside looking up at the clouds:

“If you use your imagination you can see lots of things in the cloud formations. What do you see, Linus?” Lucy asks.

“Well, those clouds up there look like a map of the British Honduras on the Caribbean. That cloud up there looks a little like the profile of Thomas Eakins, a famous painter. And that group of clouds over there gives me the impressions of the stoning of Stephen. I can see the Apostle Paul standing there to one side,” Linus replies.

“What do you see in the clouds, Charlie Brown?” Lucy inquires.

“Well, I was going to say I saw a ducky and a horsey - but I changed my mind.”

Yes, I usually feel pretty much like Charlie Brown when it comes to comments in class. I’m generally thinking of something along the lines of the ducky/horsey about the same time some young brainiac spews out a Linus answer.

I suppose this is why I’m always reluctant to raise my hand and why I get so nervous about professors who grade on class participation!

Lacking Inspiration...

Bad Day by Kay Ryan

Not every day

Is a good day

for the elfin tailor.

Some days

the stolen cloth

reveals what it

was made for:

a handsome weskit

or the jerkin

of an elfin sailor.

Other days

the tailor

sees a jacket

in his mind

and sets about

to find the fabric.

But some days

neither the idea

nor the material

presents itself;

and these are

the hard days

for the tailor elf.

Yesterday I was struggling with one of my papers due for finals week and I remembered Kay Ryan’s poem. Ryan was the US Poet Laureate from 2008-2010.

Anyway, some days neither the ideas or material seems to come, I guess for tailors and writers alike! Hope the writing process goes a little better for me today; major paper due this Thursday!

Sunday Stillness....

“The task of spiritual direction is not to make something happen, but to become aware of what God is already doing, so that we can respond to it, participate in it, and take delight in it.” - Lisa Myers

Ah, Sundays! What a rich blessing they can be in our busy lives!

Yesterday was an amazing Sabbath! It had been a volatile Saturday, more drama than I like (my bad, I’m afraid some of the hubbub was my fault). But, the chaos did make me particularly grateful for a new day; especially one of rest and reflection.

It was exactly what I needed! I’m not sure whether Sacrament meeting was better than usual because I love and adore the Hollands or if it really was an exemplar meeting. Probably a combination of both factors.

I was just deeply touched from the get-go. Holly and Dave’s talks were great, Alex playing the ukelele while Rachael sang “Soy un hijo de Dios” (the Spanish version of I Am A Child of God) was so tender, and of course, Hermana Holland’s missionary tales were inspiring. Even the ward choir number (with Sophie Ryvola’s special solo) was beautiful.

Before church I happened to be listening to one of my psychology podcasts that was addressing “stillness” (one bonus of psychology is how often it can intersect with things of a spiritual nature). During church it hit me that Sundays are often my stillness from the hectic Monday thru Saturday loudness of the world. Some people manage to function without setting aside a day that is different from the rest; I just don’t think I’m cut out to be one of them. My life is clearly better from having the stillness of a Sabbath (on a weekly basis).

“Stillness is what creates Love

Movement is what creates Life

To be still

But yet moving

That is everything.” - Do Hyun Choe

Bill Marriott retires at 80..

Bill Marriott’s 12 Rules for Success

1. Continually challenge your team to do better.

2. Take good care of your employees and they’ll take good care of your customers, and the customers will come back.

3. Celebrate your people’s successes, not your own.

4. Know what you’re good at, and then mine those competencies for all your worth.

5. Do it and do it now. Err on the side of taking action.

6. Communicate. Listen to your customers, associates and competitors.

7. See and be seen. Get out of your office, walk around, make yourself visible and accessible.

8. Success is in the details.

9. It’s more important to hire people with the right qualities than with the specific experience.

10. Customer needs may vary, but their bias for quality never does.

11. Eliminate the cause of a mistake. Don’t just clean it up.

12. View every problem as an opportunity to grow.

I love this photo of Bill Marriott with John, Steve, and David (his 3 sons). He turns 80 on March 25th and he’ll retire at the end of the month. His 12 rules for success are for business but applicable for anyone really.

The Center Cannot Hold...

Today is St. Patricks Day and instead of any leprechaun tales, in honor of Ireland, I’ll print a passage from the great Irish poet, W. B. Yeats.

It’s one stanza from The Second Coming, one of Yeats best known poems. In fact, if you’ve heard people use the phrase “the center cannot hold” or “things fall apart” they’re quoting Yeats (and might not even know it).

It’s kind of a dismal poem for a holiday, but Yeats wrote the poem in 1919, a rough time in history, hence, his somber vision of the world falling apart. But, it’s a classic, and a glimpse of why Yeats won the Nobel Prize in Literature just a few years later.

“Turning and turning in the widening gyre

The falcon cannot hear the falconer;

Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,

The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere

The ceremony of innocence is drowned;

The best lack all conviction, while the worst

Are full of passionate intensity."

-W. B Yeats, The Second Coming

Range Anxiety...

Range Anxiety: The fear of being stranded in an electric car because of insufficient battery performance.

As if I don’t already have a laundry list of anxiety neuroses, here is a new one to add to my fears: range anxiety! In fact, I’m afraid I already suffer from pre (or anticipated) range anxiety.

And, we don’t even have an electric car. Yet. But, as of yesterday, we do now have step one, a plug-in charging station in our garage.

It sounds like step two is the PG&E installation of a second electric meter, one dedicated for electric vehicles only. At that point we should be ready for our first electric car. Wherein we can test the new phraseology of range anxiety.

Actually, at this point, Brent, who will be the primary EV (electric vehicle) driver commuting from Los Gatos to San Francisco, doesn’t seem overly concerned about this issue. In theory, Brent thinks recharging the car in the city won’t be a problem. In reality, I’m not so sure; but every household needs at least one person to worry about the details.

So, while I have my misgivings about getting stranded; I also have an additional concern. I don’t want to become the emergency rescue squad for any family members who deplete their electric wattage, leaving them who knows where in the Bay Area. For lack of a term (since I might be the first to suffer from this ailment), I’ll call it “EV assistance anxiety” (EVAA), or, the fear of having to rescue drivers experiencing actual range anxiety debacles.

On the upside: I read that Triple A (which we happen to be long time members, whew!) has a pilot program they are testing in 6 cities (which includes SF - yes!) where special AAA trucks can fully charge EV’s in almost 30 minutes. This somewhat mitigates the potential of both anxieties for me. Although, it (of course) brings a new concern: exactly how many road assistance calls do AAA members get each year?

Hermana’s Home...

“The Atonement of Jesus Christ changes people. That is what this is all about. It has changed me even though I sometimes have a hard time seeing that." - Hermana Holland

Rachael returned home from the Albuquerque New Mexico Mission yesterday! Woo hoo!

Rach looks great and just like a missionary, her countenance radiates! It was fun to see her surprise at how much Connor and Holly have changed since her departure.

When Hermana left Holly wasn’t driving and not only that, Holly is now taller than Rachael. And, Connor turned 12 last week so he’ll be a deacon passing the Sacrament.

It will be great to see the Paige/Rachael combo reunited on Friday when Pooge gets back in town tomorrow! Good times!

“Serving people really does make you love them. Service brings the greatest joy anyone could ever ask for. Something a lot of these Mexicanos have figured out.” -Rachael Holland

Not Myself...

You know the ditzy person who leaves class without their power cord? That person is (usually) not me.

You know the person who shows up at the Relief Society dinner without contributing any food? That person is (usually) not me either.

This week I keep tripping up, bad behaviors that feel out-of-sorts for me. I mean, I have plenty of bad behaviors, but distraction faux pas and not at least attempting to do my part, aren’t my typical pattern.

Both things are somewhat explainable (written as one adept at rationalizing). At my Monday night class the professor’s Macbook needed charging and since we have twin computers, she borrowed mine during class. Who would turn down that request since the teacher will be giving me a final grade in 2 weeks. But then, class ended and I got all the way home before I realized I had one laptop minus one power cord. Whoops!

With the Relief Society dinner last night I didn’t technically have a food assignment. But, it’s not like me to not attempt to do my share. I’m not trying to sound magnanimous here, but I do like to pitch in. It just felt sort of weird to show up at an activity where I hadn’t helped with anything.

This is one of the problems with school; it’s kind of encroaching on my window to serve sometimes. But, it's giving me a lot of empathy for sisters who work.

During Relief Society it’s pretty standard for sign-up sheets to make their way around class (everything from feeding missionaries to helping others with kids, moves, rides, whatever). It’s not as if I always sign up, but it is new territory for me to find my school load sometimes precludes it.

This has been an exercise in showing restraint when one part of me kinda/sorta/wants to volunteer but the other part of me knows I can’t quite pull it all off.

The purse party for the Los Gatos Ward sisters last night was another Jamie Walton production which translates to amazing in every way! I can’t believe I didn’t take pictures! Happy Birthday Relief Society!

Humoring the telemarketers...

A telemarketing job would drive me crazy. But, it turns out, without even trying, I'm able to provide some humor for these call center workers.

I came home to a hilarious voicemail message yesterday that I’m saving to replay whenever I need a laugh!

The message is basically an exchange between telemarketer #1 commenting to telemarketer #2. Telemarketer #1 called us, we weren’t home, and our voicemail engaged before she realized she hadn't hung up her phone (or headset?). Now I have a great recording of their exchange.

Telemarketer #1 said: "I would have said Nude-son and the lady’s message says Kanud-sen.” Would you say Nude-son?”

Telemarker #2: “Let see it. Oh, yeah, I would say Nude-son too."

Telemarker #1: “Well, their machine said, ‘You have reached the Kanud-sens.'” And then, the telemarketer erupts into a convulsive laugh.

I had no idea the pronunciation of our last name, could evoke such a fit of laughter. It’s probably a classic you-had-to-be-there story but it cracks me up every time I replay the message!

Plus, I usually hate telemarketing calls and now I want to answer every phone call because I would definitely recognize her voice (and that crazy laugh). Then, when she asks if she has reached the “Kanud-sens” (all proud that she’s got the name down), I’ll throw her a curve ball and say, “I’m sorry, this is the Nude-sons.”

Traffic School Graduates....

We aren’t just a family of college graduates. Every last one of us has a traffic school degree as well. Some (unfortunately) have multiple drive-more-safely degrees!

This is not an accomplishment we should be proud of. Apparently, I need to debunk the status we give to the word “speed” around here. Somehow we missed passing along the “there’s a time and a place” addendum to the word.

Just to be clear, speed is not an inherently good thing. It might win a race on foot but can earn a hefty fine by car. This disconnect hit me when Paige mentioned via phone she was doing her mandated traffic school (for driving too fast in the OC) and a couple hours later emailed it was already completed. Without thinking I congratulated her on her speedy work, forgetting that it was her speedy work behind the wheel that landed her in traffic school in the first place.

Ironically, I was praising speed, albeit for educational endeavors of sorts (well, it is called traffic SCHOOL), but still, it’s a bit of a mixed message. Hurry, hurry hurry. We rush around to speed through this and that, and then forget to slow down when our foot hits the gas pedal!

So, after my kudos to Paige on her speedy finish with the traffic school assignments, I did remind her to watch her speed on the road. And, one serious follow up to that (to all family members - listen up!): No texting while driving! No exceptions!