Benedictus Sedecim

Ninety Nine percent+ of the world doesn't understand that in religion it makes no sense for policy and doctrine to flow upward in the organization from the people to hopefully, God. Religion has no similarity with Democracy and ought not to. The more a Church resembles Democracy or any other political form the more it is just a club. Religion is where the voice of God is heard. Like Bob Lonsberry said, if you disagree with the Pope, you are not a Catholic. Start your own religion. For this reason most of the "news" coverage of the appointment of the new Pope is completely useless.

Grab the Petromalt! Laney's been licking the cat!!!!!!!!

Laney was acking and wretching while sitting next to us watching Enterprise. She repeatedly probed her mouth with her fingers. She finally admitted to licking Maxine. (I hope she stayed North of the Netherlands. I don't believe there are any psychotropic benefits for humans from orally grooming Domestic Shorthair Tortoise Shell cats.) I gave her a glass of water to try to gargle with. That turned into a fiasco all by itself. She couldn't spit without looking at herself in the mirror. So all of her projectorate ended up beyond the sink on the counter.

The Second Law of Thermodynamics

It really is all about Entropy and our desperate fight against it. Maybe it should be the first law. A little more than a year ago we bought a "new" used car for the family, a 1997 Ford Explorer. We were and still are quite pleased with the car. Early on we noticed the brakes making a somewhat alarming sound when you pushed hard at low speeds. I bought some new brake pads and then pulled the wheels off. The pads that were on the car looked like they still had some life in them. So, I put the wheels back on and returned the pads to the store. Fast-forward to last week. The wife and kids come home one evening: "Dad, something's wrong with the car. Yeah, it's making a horrible noise." In situations like these, you can't expect any diagnostic help from the females. Everything is dire, sudden and needs immediate remediation. I drove the car a bit and could easily tell that it was the brakes, especially the right rear. We had to drive it that way for a day or two. But, I surmised that maybe the noise was just the handy metal tabs scraping on the rotors as they are designed to do to warn you of imminent need for replacing. Friday night Jensen and I tore into the project with Laney as spectator/cheerleader. It went smoothly enough. I first pulled off the left rear wheel and the pads were very worn and the handy metal warning tab was broken off. I began to suspect the used car dealer who sold us the car tore them off so the brakes wouldn't make noise when we bought it. I soon discovered that the easiest way to replace the caliper once the new pads were installed meant that you had to break off the metal tab. The right rear wheel was even in worse shape. The brake pad was completely down to the metal on the inboard pad. No wonder it was making such a racket. We also had quite a struggle reinserting the caliper piston. It may have been because it was at such an extreme end of its designed travel or perhaps because of wear. The piston was slightly out of alignment and it took me many tries to rectify the problem. It finally went back into its cylinder. I had visions of having to patch the thing together and take it to a real mechanic who would then charge me at least $300 and possibly find many other things wrong with the car that he would try to guilt me into fixing. "THINK OF THE CHILDREN!!!!" After that slight hiccup we made short work of the rest of the task and now the brakes work great with no noise whatsoever.

Reunions, Fiddles from Heaven, and the Mormon Philotic Web

I attended a mission reunion at my in-laws last night. My father in law is Darrell F. Smith of the LDS Smiths (He brought out a chair made by his grandfather Joseph F. Smith to help accommodate the crowd.) Darrell was a missionary in the early 50's in Scotland where they called him elder Smuth (with the Brogue.) Many of the people at the reunion had wonderful accents. A touch of Australia here, a hint of Sean Connery there. The group was an interesting amalgam. I was there with my wife because of her father. We were also there because members of our ward were speaking and performing.

My father in law had a companion in Scotland whose family lives in my ward and has for close to 50 years or more, Morris and Doris Graves and their children and now grandchildren. Morris became seriously ill when he and his family were quite young and he passed away at the age of 34 on 25 November 1961 only moments after learning of the birth of his fifth child. My in-laws lived outside of Utah since the late 50's until about 2 years ago. Darrell visited Morris briefly during his convalescence on a trip to Salt Lake. My wife and I enjoy immensely the family of Nancy Singleton, one of Morris' children.

Nancy was invited to the reunion/fireside to tell of an interesting incident recently where she was speaking at a Stake Conference and felt inspired to tell a story about her father's presence influencing her less than devout aunt and uncle one Sunday a couple of years after his death. She realized while she was telling the account that one of her cousins was in the audience at the conference. Last night she also talked in general about her father and the difficulties that their young family faced after his death. For many in attendance it was a chance to learn something about a dear friend whom they had not associated with since their time in Scotland many years ago. Also for Nancy and two of her daughters it was a chance to hear stories of her father from people who had known him before she was born, some stories that had never been shared before.

Nancy's entire family is greatly talented (they have formed a very good Blue Grass band) and her two oldest daughters treated us all to a performance of some Scottish fiddle music. I often joke that when children are first learning the violin any performance can be termed "Violins from Hell." This was "Fiddles from Heaven." I especially enjoyed watched the interaction between the two musicians as they communicated with glance and nuance while they were playing. It may be something only a musician would notice and appreciate. These two sisters are joined at the fiddle.

Confernce Holiday Weekend

It's Confernce (Utah pronunciation) time in Salt Lake. Time for the LDS church to gather and listen to the Prophets. You notice an increase in sightings of vehicle tags from Wyoming and Idaho. There is a preponderance of radio ads for Deseret Book Store and Anniversary Inn and other kitchey Mormon things. We are a peculiar people. But, sometimes for the wrong reasons. We get 10 hours of instruction on Saturday and Sunday, which is probably a little more time than I would spend on a Sunday in my calling. But, we get to watch it on TV in the comfort of our homes seated on the couch or our favorite chair (and sometimes our favorite bed) dressed in our favorite spiritual pajamas and eating wholesome LDS chocolates and farmer breakfast.

Restaurants in Salt Lake are almost always crowded. Saturday night of Conference weekend is always a joke. The Priesthood Session ends at 8pm and everyone heads to their favorite eatery. In an effort to avoid the crowds, a couple of years ago we started looking for places with the word "pub" or "brewery" in the name. We've stopped short of going to Hooters.

Papa Giovanni Paolo Due

As his soul fades slowly into the utter East we pause for reflection. I lived in Cremona Italy in 1978 when Paolo Sesto passed away. We weren't given much time to get to know Giovanni Paolo Primo. I have come to understand and appreciate Catholics more and more over the years. I am grateful for the amazing example and service of this late great Pope. He may have done more in bringing down the Iron Curtain than Ronald Reagan. He has been a great voice against the encroaching tide of sin and worldliness. His cries from the wilderness and the steadfastness of his leadership as it flowed down to and through his followers have been a great moderating force in the world. I expect his reward beyond the veil will surpass his earthly efforts and accomplishments.

Bwuaaaaaaaahhhhhhh

There's a stomach virus making the rounds of the Lillywhite household. Jensen was ill on Tuesday. Laney fell ill last night. In our home we ascribe to the Jerry Seinfeld theory of vomiting, never is soon enough. Now that I am a parent I admire my mother even more for always being there and waking so many times in the middle of the night when we were sick. About 2:30am I heard Laney whimpering a little. That is very unusual for her. In a split nanosecond my unconscious mind realized that she was probably ill like Jensen had been and in another split nanosecond I was in her room picking her up and trying to make sure she made it to the WC. I've had too many "opportunities" to use the wet/dry vac in the middle of the night, thank you. Well, we managed to get her to the bathroom in time. My mind was still so foggy I could have run across hot coals without knowing it. Then the next thing that happens at a time like this you immediately start doing a physical assessment to see if you were exposed to Jensen's bug and if the appropriate incubation period has elapsed. Why yes, I do feel a little queasy come to think of it. Hand me that bottle of Pepto and a funnel, please. There's always a 80 percent chance that you feel yuckey now because of psychosomatosis or just because of the smell. Vomiting is one of the most self generating things in the world. Well, I was sitting there and Laney was finished with her first bout and she said, "Remember in Young Frankenstein when he says, Put the Candle Back?" She had watched the movie earlier in the evening and for some reason now in the middle of the night in the throes of vomitus she was focused on Gene Wilder. (She put her hands up to depict a face being squished between the wall and the bookcase.) Later in the morning when Laney was again convulsing, she whimpered, turned to the mirror and said, "I don't look very pretty."

Once I got back to bed, my heart still racing, I noticed a crick in my back. I realized it was probably partly due to hoisting and hod carrying the 30 pound bundle in a dead sleep. It was also tweaked from clearing the morning's delivery of snow from the driveway. I shovelled our driveway and sidewalk and then visited with a neighbor for a couple of minutes and then we helped a third neighbor who has a driveway the size of runway number three at the Salt Lake Airport.