Jensen's Latest Art Assignment

Comments on MeridianMagazine.com

Click on the link in the title above. Scroll down. Look for my name. This is the original column that I commented on.

Comments below:

I see this as a big problem. Our culture is cultivating these perpetual teenagers. I was astounded that this fellow's father (who is obviously old enough to consider a "senior" mission) is so involved in computer games.

I expect there may be sins/habits/addictions that the husband may still be hiding from his wife. Or, possibly he realizes that if he gives himself over to the Lord, he may end up in a "serious" calling that requires an awful lot of someone, like Bishop. I actually had someone admit this to me yesterday.

Are we somehow giving people the idea that it isn't a joy to serve in "serious" callings? Are we somehow letting them believe that they don't have to develop their full potential?

Women are often so eager to have the whole spiritual package that they step into the breach and fill in for their husbands. Men come to rely on this female characteristic. Shame on the men. —Todd Lillywhite

Thanks for your letter, Todd. I was hoping we’d hear from a brother or two out there. Incidentally, isn’t it interesting that not one man wrote in to complain about his wife?

Naughtius Maximus

At about six months of age, our newest cat, the "red" tabby (I'm told that's the correct appellation) is probably in the full throes of kitty teenagerhood. It seems that I lost out in the naming competition. He is being called Thomas or some variation of it. The girls say his official name is Thomas Victor Dobby Sperlunker IV.

Everyone in the family fawns over him (except Ruby, who ignores him as much as possible.) He still has (but, has almost grown out of) the annoying habit of reaching peak alertness at 5:30 in the morning and coming in search of Human love and affection. He will nudge you on the face or forehead with his face (this is a very intimate gesture for cats.) Prominent in this show of affection is his wet nose. All the time his purr will be going like a Pratt & Whitney jet engine...on take off. One night I tried to remove him from such proximity and earshot several times by placing him ever so gently on the floor. Finally, he got the message. But, he tried to reinitiate relations by bumping my dangling hand several times. It is not uncommon for him to jump up on the bed, start his purring (In Italian they call this "facendo le fusa" which literally means making the spindles, and must refer to the rhythmic sound a spindle makes when it is turning fast) and paw at the covers or whomever he can get a perch on, all the while bearing a look on his face that asks, "are you my mommy?"

Last night He ran out the front door when Bob Kirk came to visit. He loves to do this. We don't mind so much if Ruby goes outside. She is more mature and has proven that she knows which house is ours and that she ought not run off to Tooele or Santaquin and when she's had enough she will wait patiently at the door to be let in. We aren't quite ready to entrust Tommy with that level of responsibility yet. Besides, when he goes outside Laney screams that he is going to be hit by a car or attacked by marauding owls or some other nocturnal raptors. So, last night in the dark I was outside trying to corral the felonious feline. Laney was trying to help me as well. She had just finished a bath and was only "wearing" a towel. I have neglected some of my fatherly duties and have not properly trained Laney in advanced stalking techniques. Whenever Tommy would stop somewhere, she would just run at him. Of course he's going to run away from a shrieking, streaking (almost naked, almost dry) five year old. Eventually she got smart and left the catching to me. He ran to the Herndons. He ran to the Petersons. He ran across the street to the Suzukis. I was about to give up and tell the others to do it (I had just gotten home from a much longer than necessary meeting and was in the middle of something on the computer) when he came out of Norma Noyes' rose bushes and let me grab him.

We must not be feeding Tommy enough because the other day he insisted on climbing on the kitchen counter and licking the electric can opener for whatever remnants of food or flavor there might have been there. I must have shooed him away five times. Just for fun, we are going to give that can opener to the second hand store without washing it first.

Another one of his favorite things is to climb the canopy on our bed. I have my "trek" cowboy hat (see below) hanging on one of the finials. He claws his way up the canopy curtains, always on the only corner where the hat is hanging. He likes to balance across that corner partially covered by the hat, his belly hanging between the right sides of the corner. Occasionally he will carefully walk along the inch wide cross members with his tail flailing and spinning like a propeller for balance. He stops in the middle to watch the ceiling fan. We half expect him to jump at it.

FHE

Our Family Home Evenings are probably not different than some. But, they are far from ideal. We've had to limit Laney to two opening songs. For the longest time she always wanted to to sing "Making Christmas" from Tim Burton's "The Nightmare Before Christmas." That's not even a Primary song! We were well pleased last Monday when her first choice was "I Am a Child of God." (When we sing this, I always say "with parents kind and weird" pointing to myself and then Lenore.) So we also permitted the singing of "Once There Was a Snowman." Another of her favorites is "The Wise Man Built His House Upon the Rock." The more remarkable thing about our opening songs in FHE is they are always accompanied by an interpretive dance on the part of Laney. It's a good thing the "Solid Gold" song/dance show isn't still on. She would be a huge fan. As I recall Ailsa went in for the interpretive dance thing too.

Not Denali

Mount Timpanogos at 11,749 feet, isn't the tallest mountain in Utah. But, it may be the most well known. Its top is actually a long ridge with several peaks that fan out along the Northeastern edge of Utah county. I recently read someone else's account of climbing it and thought I should put down in words my only experience doing the same.

It was in the Fall of 1980. I had finally returned to BYU after my mission. I left early one Saturday morning (about 7am) with Kevin Wilson, Stuart Campbell and Chris Money. This adventure was one of several outings in my life where we didn't put a lot of forethought or preparation into the thing. We took no food nor water with us. We didn't even eat any breakfast before we left. I was wearing my K-SWISS tennis shoes. Our hike started at the trailhead near Sundance.

It took us four hours to reach the top and two hours 15 minutes to descend. As I recall we stopped for a rest break where the trail is joined by another path coming from the North trailhead. This is about 2/3rds of the way up the hike? During this rest stop we encountered a small group of young girls (probably a beehive class.) They appeared to be well provisioned and in great spirits and vigor. We were very tired and did our best to look pathetic and beat so we could scam off them part of a sandwich and a can of soda pop. I am certain those provisions "saved" us. From that point on I had no will at all really to finish the hike. Other than the fatigue, lack of water, and lack nutrition, the deleterious effects of the thin air may have also contributed to this absence of drive. I just kept putting one foot in front of the other and actually, before long you could see the summit and it was easier to press ahead.

We descended the summit by sliding down the "glacier" into the meadow. I guess this was one of the reasons for performing the hike in the first place. The first 10 feet or so of the slide were straight down and the rest is at a very sharp angle drop. (Pay no attention to the carcasses of ill-fated glacier sliders that you see littering the area.) We must have slid about 300 yards. It was very bumpy and my hands (which I used as stabilizers during this wild ride) were numb and tingly for about three days afterwards. Eager to end our ordeal we nearly trotted the rest of the way down the hill which caused some blisters and bruised toenails from crashing into the front of my shoes. Otherwise, I suffered no ill effects. But, I never did it again. That may be my sub-conscious protecting me.

Did They Send Me Daughters, When I Asked For Sons?

About a week and a half ago we had one of those evenings. I'm not sure what touched it off except that I believe I started in on the two older girls about their treatment of and reaction to Laney and her antics and please let us be the parents and... and... And Ailsa started in on how we are terrible parents and Laney gets away with everything, we were much harder on them, we experimented on Ailsa and ruined her. I countered with the fact that people change and you can't expect us to be the same now as we were 15 years ago and we are older and tired and have to choose our battles wisely. Pretty soon Ailsa was crying and then Jensen started in and I hadn't even been contending with her. So, of course I felt like a bad Bishop and even worse Father. After a while I realized that there was a higher than normal hormone level in the room and I just backed off.

I usually thank the Lord that I have girls instead of sons. Boys are usually a bit dopey and dimwitted compared to the girls their age. I think that might bother me. Also, I am so glad I don't have to do Boy Scouts and take them camping all the time. But, occasionally the females (said with Star Trek Ferengi intonation and disdain) have me completely baffled and flummoxed.

Mini Riunione

We had missionary friends over for dinner on Saturday evening. Dana Kendrick and his friend Shelley and also Michelle and Steve Young (not that Steve Young.) We see the Youngs pretty often. But, this is the first time I've really been able to spend any time with Dana since the mission. We were companions in Milan for a couple of months. Dana is from North Carolina and has a very charming accent and affable southern style. His friend Shelley is very poised and confident and attractive. The Youngs are also some of the warmest and nicest people in the world. They brought some of their kids so Laney could play with "Itchell." His name is really Mitchell. But, Laney first called him Itchell and it has stuck, at least for us.

I fixed my red sauce recipe that I learned from Colomba Serreri, whom Dana and I taught and baptized in Milan. Michelle also made some Panforte that was delicious. It's really Italian fruitcake. But, I really like it. It's a little like Spanish "mole" because it has black pepper and chocolate in it along with several other spices.

Dana told of an experience escaping a police cruiser on the streets of Milan after running through a red light while neither he nor his companion had their licenses or passports with them. It was late and they had just checked the Mission President into a hospital because of a medical emergency.

IRUKANDJI!!!!!!!!

We caught a program last night on Discovery channel about KILLER JELLYFISH! It was quite fascinating. At first we didn't want Laney to watch because we thought she might never go near the ocean again or have trouble sleeping from fright, especially after her close encounter with a jellyfish this summer. Well, she heard KILLER JELLYFISH! and we couldn't get her away. We assured her that these jellyfish would have to swim a very long way to cause us any trouble, especially while we are in Utah. Are you suggesting jellyfish migrate? I didn't think there was anything more deadly than the Portuguese Man-O-War. But, many box jellyfish and more particularly the dreaded IRUKANDJI! (I love that name. Even if you didn't know what it was it would invoke paralyzing fear.) carry toxins that are 500 times more potent than the sissy Portuguese Man-O-War. After the program there was a teaser for a similar program on KILLER ANTS! Great, we had just assured Laney that ants were harmless. If you get a chance to see the show you should watch it.