Fifty years ago today my family moved from Oregon to Idaho. Dale and I, who were seven and nine years old respectively, actually moved a day later. We stayed overnight at our old house on the Oregon-Idaho border so we could finish out the week at our grade school in Adrian. Dale was a first grader. I was in the fourth grade.
Our older brother Gene, who was fifteen, came sometime in the middle of the night, after returning from a basketball tournament in Baker, Oregon, to also be with us. Gene and Kay, who were both in high school at Adrian, would actually not move with us. They stayed with a ward member in the Adrian area, Ad Salter, to finish out the school year.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Say what you mean, mean what you say
People who are in the business of communicating with the public ought, it seems to me, to be able to communicate. They ought to be able to say what they mean and mean what they say.
A recent example from one of the weather forecasters on a local television station. Commenting last night on the unusual 69-degree high for the day, she affirmed that we would not be seeing 69 degrees again. Never? Are we in for perennial winter? What about global warming? Where is Al Gore when we need him?
Surely she meant there were no 69-degree temperatures in the immediate forecast. None in the five- or ten-day forecast. But never?
Now, of course, we are all human and are surely entitled to an occasional misspeak here and there, but I observe little such inaccuracies all the time in the broadcast media. The broadcasters should be somewhat masters of the language—it is their business after all—they are supposed to be professionals—but too often, painfully so at times, they speak without precision, without really saying what they mean, sometimes without being consistent.
Another recent example. A week ago a newscaster was doing a little feature on increasing car thefts in the area. She observed that it didn't really matter what make or model or year of car you happened to own, pretty much all were at risk. And then not more than two or three sentences later, she said that recent-year Hondas were most at risk. The two affirmations didn't seem to match. So, do I need to worry at all about someone breaking into or stealing my eleven-year-old Ford Ranger pickup or my eleven-year-old Ford Windstar minivan? I would not if I were any sort of self-respecting car burglar. Certainly not the Windstar. The Ranger perhaps.
A recent example from one of the weather forecasters on a local television station. Commenting last night on the unusual 69-degree high for the day, she affirmed that we would not be seeing 69 degrees again. Never? Are we in for perennial winter? What about global warming? Where is Al Gore when we need him?
Surely she meant there were no 69-degree temperatures in the immediate forecast. None in the five- or ten-day forecast. But never?
Now, of course, we are all human and are surely entitled to an occasional misspeak here and there, but I observe little such inaccuracies all the time in the broadcast media. The broadcasters should be somewhat masters of the language—it is their business after all—they are supposed to be professionals—but too often, painfully so at times, they speak without precision, without really saying what they mean, sometimes without being consistent.
Another recent example. A week ago a newscaster was doing a little feature on increasing car thefts in the area. She observed that it didn't really matter what make or model or year of car you happened to own, pretty much all were at risk. And then not more than two or three sentences later, she said that recent-year Hondas were most at risk. The two affirmations didn't seem to match. So, do I need to worry at all about someone breaking into or stealing my eleven-year-old Ford Ranger pickup or my eleven-year-old Ford Windstar minivan? I would not if I were any sort of self-respecting car burglar. Certainly not the Windstar. The Ranger perhaps.
Another of my favorites is the misplaced modifier—words or phrases that modify or describe or give meaning to what is being talked about. Yet, if misplaced (and we're not talking here about losing our modifiers but placing them in the wrong part of the sentence, making them seem to modify something other than what they were meant to), they can create quite a different meaning than the one intended. Sometimes the result is humorous. Sometimes confusing. Sometimes misleading.
Monday, February 16, 2009
My trip into cyberspace
Now that all of the children are grown and married, Claudia and I have appreciated reading everyone's blogs as a means of keeping up with what everybody is doing and thinking. Claudia doesn't blog herself, but she is an avid reader.
My blogs rather exploded once I expanded beyond this initial one, although a majority of them (15 of the 23 I currently have) are devoted to various bits of family history (my mother's diaries, my missionary journal, family newletters, historical sketches of ancestors, and collections of stuff from our own thirty-six years of family history). Blogging seemed a reasonable way of organizing and disseminating a lot of historical information, of making sure any of you who wanted the various pieces of history would have access to it if our house burned down or I were hit by a bus on my way home from work or any of a number of other things that could happen.
A few of my other blogs are private (such as my current journal, my planner, and my random info keeper, for example). Doing them as blogs gives me immediate access to the information from any computer anywhere I can connect to the Internet. It's pretty handy.
And now, as of last night, I've taken the next step. Thanks to Rebecca's help and the encouragement of several others, I now have a Facebook account. And more friends already than a person should ever expect to have. Is this great or what!
My blogs rather exploded once I expanded beyond this initial one, although a majority of them (15 of the 23 I currently have) are devoted to various bits of family history (my mother's diaries, my missionary journal, family newletters, historical sketches of ancestors, and collections of stuff from our own thirty-six years of family history). Blogging seemed a reasonable way of organizing and disseminating a lot of historical information, of making sure any of you who wanted the various pieces of history would have access to it if our house burned down or I were hit by a bus on my way home from work or any of a number of other things that could happen.
A few of my other blogs are private (such as my current journal, my planner, and my random info keeper, for example). Doing them as blogs gives me immediate access to the information from any computer anywhere I can connect to the Internet. It's pretty handy.
And now, as of last night, I've taken the next step. Thanks to Rebecca's help and the encouragement of several others, I now have a Facebook account. And more friends already than a person should ever expect to have. Is this great or what!
Friday, February 06, 2009
Happy birthday, Claudia
In honor of Claudia's birthday today, I share this tribute that originally appeared as a part of the preface to the book Claudia: An Elect Lady, which we published in May 2005. The sentiments expressed then are still every bit as true today.
The Lord blesses us, collectively and individually, with many gifts. The scriptures affirm that every person is given at least one spiritual gift (see D&C 46:11). Some receive many.
Some years ago Claudia gave a sacrament meeting talk on gifts of the Spirit. She quoted Elder Marvin J. Ashton of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles (1915–1994), who pointed out some less conspicuous spiritual gifts that we may enjoy: "The gift of asking; the gift of listening; the gift of hearing and using a still, small voice; the gift of being able to weep; the gift of avoiding contention; the gift of being agreeable; the gift of avoiding vain repetition; the gift of seeking that which is righteous; the gift of not passing judgment; the gift of looking to God for guidance; the gift of being a disciple; the gift of caring for others; the gift of being able to ponder; the gift of offering prayer; the gift of bearing mighty testimony; and the gift of receiving the Holy Ghost" ("There Are Many Gifts," Ensign, Nov. 1987, 20). Just consider how many of these gifts Claudia enjoys.
Claudia is a genuinely gifted person. Chief among all her many spiritual gifts is the gift of charity. I have known few, if any, people who have more consistently felt for, reached out to, lifted up, and blessed the lives of those about her. She has been generous in sharing her means. She has been tireless in serving others, particularly her family, neighbors in the ward, children and adults who have been in classes she has taught, the numerous children she has tended through the years. It has been a blessing indeed to be the beneficiary of such Christlike love through so many years.
Just a single illustration of her Christlike thoughtfulness and charity. Last Saturday, between the morning and afternoon sessions of general conference, we learned that Pope John Paul II had died after leading the Catholic Church for some 26 years. She had plenty to do that afternoon, after the afternoon session of conference was over and before the family gathering she was putting together for after the priesthood session, but she took the time to go out and buy a nice picture book on the Pope, wrote a little note, and walked it down to express her sympathies to Stephanie Smith, our Catholic neighbor down the street. And spent an hour talking, crying, laughing with her.
Another illustration. There is a couple in a neighboring ward in our stake who are mildly handicapped. They are the nicest people and do what they can to keep body and soul together. They sell Fuller products, brushes and cleaning supplies, things like that. Claudia tries single-handedly to keep them in business by regularly buying all sorts of products she’ll never be able to use in a dozen years.
It's the same with cub scouts selling Scout-o-Rama tickets. Or the girl scouts selling their high-priced cookies. Or the neighborhood school children selling their wrapping paper or greeting cards or tulip bulbs or whatever is the fund-raiser de jour.
"Charity," Mormon taught, "suffereth long, and is kind, and envieth not, and is not puffed up, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil, and rejoiceth not in iniquity but rejoiceth in the truth, beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.
"Wherefore, my beloved brethren, if ye have not charity, ye are nothing, for charity never faileth. Wherefore, cleave unto charity, which is the greatest of all, for all things must fail—
"But charity is the pure love of Christ, and it endureth forever; and whoso is found possessed of it at the last day, it shall be well with him" (Moroni 7: 45–47).
The Lord blesses us, collectively and individually, with many gifts. The scriptures affirm that every person is given at least one spiritual gift (see D&C 46:11). Some receive many.
Some years ago Claudia gave a sacrament meeting talk on gifts of the Spirit. She quoted Elder Marvin J. Ashton of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles (1915–1994), who pointed out some less conspicuous spiritual gifts that we may enjoy: "The gift of asking; the gift of listening; the gift of hearing and using a still, small voice; the gift of being able to weep; the gift of avoiding contention; the gift of being agreeable; the gift of avoiding vain repetition; the gift of seeking that which is righteous; the gift of not passing judgment; the gift of looking to God for guidance; the gift of being a disciple; the gift of caring for others; the gift of being able to ponder; the gift of offering prayer; the gift of bearing mighty testimony; and the gift of receiving the Holy Ghost" ("There Are Many Gifts," Ensign, Nov. 1987, 20). Just consider how many of these gifts Claudia enjoys.
Claudia is a genuinely gifted person. Chief among all her many spiritual gifts is the gift of charity. I have known few, if any, people who have more consistently felt for, reached out to, lifted up, and blessed the lives of those about her. She has been generous in sharing her means. She has been tireless in serving others, particularly her family, neighbors in the ward, children and adults who have been in classes she has taught, the numerous children she has tended through the years. It has been a blessing indeed to be the beneficiary of such Christlike love through so many years.
Just a single illustration of her Christlike thoughtfulness and charity. Last Saturday, between the morning and afternoon sessions of general conference, we learned that Pope John Paul II had died after leading the Catholic Church for some 26 years. She had plenty to do that afternoon, after the afternoon session of conference was over and before the family gathering she was putting together for after the priesthood session, but she took the time to go out and buy a nice picture book on the Pope, wrote a little note, and walked it down to express her sympathies to Stephanie Smith, our Catholic neighbor down the street. And spent an hour talking, crying, laughing with her.
Another illustration. There is a couple in a neighboring ward in our stake who are mildly handicapped. They are the nicest people and do what they can to keep body and soul together. They sell Fuller products, brushes and cleaning supplies, things like that. Claudia tries single-handedly to keep them in business by regularly buying all sorts of products she’ll never be able to use in a dozen years.
It's the same with cub scouts selling Scout-o-Rama tickets. Or the girl scouts selling their high-priced cookies. Or the neighborhood school children selling their wrapping paper or greeting cards or tulip bulbs or whatever is the fund-raiser de jour.
"Charity," Mormon taught, "suffereth long, and is kind, and envieth not, and is not puffed up, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil, and rejoiceth not in iniquity but rejoiceth in the truth, beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.
"Wherefore, my beloved brethren, if ye have not charity, ye are nothing, for charity never faileth. Wherefore, cleave unto charity, which is the greatest of all, for all things must fail—
"But charity is the pure love of Christ, and it endureth forever; and whoso is found possessed of it at the last day, it shall be well with him" (Moroni 7: 45–47).
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