Verdict on The Gun Seller: Good.

A while back I wrote a post about this book, saying that if I found it was good or entertaining or some combination of both, I'd be upset at the polymathical talents of Hugh Laurie, actor, pianist, singer, writer, and novelist.

It's good.

So I am upset.

But in a good way. Though the book was a bit predictable in parts, the story is entertaining, and the last 30 or so pages I had to finish in a gulp because the tension built nicely and the bad guys get their comeuppance and it doesn't really matter all that much if there were so many characters, many of whom blended together, I kinda forgot who some of the bad guys were even at the end. That might be this novel's biggest fault, and something I should learn for my own writing. We don't need to make all of our characters zany and Gentry Lee-esque, but we should certainly strive to help them be memorable enough when their names are mentioned again long after they're introduced we remember who they are. And maybe that's my fault; sometimes I'm not the most observant reader. But this book is no Dickens character fest, either.

It's not the best spy spoof or whatever that I've read, but it was a fun read nonetheless.

I can't recommend it to my wife, to whom I pass many a book, because there's plenty of swearing in the story. I don't mind an occasional cuss, but this kind of went beyond the pale. True-to-life dialogue it might be, but it certainly makes the characters a lot less memorable when all they can do is drop an f-bomb rather than say something clever.

Farewell

Today, two momentous things.

Thing First: Isaac gave his farewell talk. He had me read a copy beforehand, and it was great.

As it's out in public, I'll put the text below so I always remember it.

But I love how happy he looks in this photo, sneaked in the chapel before his talk.

Thing Second: Brother Coletti almost ran out of No. 1s for the hymn list today. We've been endlessly entertained watching him sneak 7s into the list when he runs out.

 Nearly 30 years before I was born, President Spencer W. Kimball taught “God does notice us, and he watches over us. But it is usually through another person that he meets our needs. Therefore, it is vital that we serve each other in the kingdom” (December 1974 Ensign “Small Acts of Service”). The more I’ve thought about that statement, the more I’ve started to realize something. As the Lord gives us the opportunity to serve, the people we serve aren’t alone in receiving his blessings, he is blessing us too. Upon reflecting on the opportunities the Lord has given me to serve, I have quickly recognized the way each one has strengthened my testimony and brought me that much closer to Jesus Christ.

The first and most consistent opportunity I was given was the many years I have spent at Island Park Scout Camp. Mom hauled us up to camp one summer to work in the kitchen with a family friend, and it quickly became a huge part of who I am. As I spent my summers growing up at camp, I was exposed to numerous examples of leading, serving, and prioritizing the needs of those around me. At the young age of 7, I was welcomed and served by the staff of the camp despite not having a place among them. I spent a number of years watching the way the staff served those who came to participate in the camp, and I eagerly awaited my opportunity to do so.

When my time finally came, I ran with it. I spent nearly a decade teaching classes, serving the units, and serving the scouts and the camp. Whether that was in the form of welcoming units to camp, answering questions, bringing them to campwide events, or helping them complete their classes, I found great joy in spending time with and serving those scouts and leaders, so much so that it seemed like I spent August back through to May waiting for the opportunity to head back to camp.

Then, last year, something changed. Up until the spring of 2025, I had always been able to get the time off I needed from work to spend time up at camp. Whether that came in the form of my job giving me the required time off, a conveniently timed transition to another job during the summer, or altogether quitting my job, I always made my way back. Last year was different.

At the time I was working for Reed’s Dairy, in their production facility, and due to the nature of the position I was in, and summer being the peak season for ice cream sales, I was unable to take the time off for camp. This greatly impacted me. I lost the most present and consistent opportunity for service that I had been blessed with. By no coincidence, this is also the time at which my testimony suffered the most. It was small changes at first. Forgetting my nightly prayer, spending a Sunday with friends instead of at church, or skipping the YSA activities. Over time, things began to add up, and all of the sudden I found myself in a dark place.

This summer looked much the same, but due to some late subtractions and reassignments within the camp’s staff roster, I found myself with the chance to go back up one final summer before my mission. This opportunity and the youth, adult leaders, and staff that I spent the summer working with and serving taught me a few things. The more we serve and look after the needs of others, the happier we will be, and the greater we will be blessed. This thought was reinforced for me this week as I studied a talk by President Thomas S. Monson titled “What Have I Done for Someone Today”. In it, he says, “The Savior taught His disciples, ‘For whosoever will save his life shall lose it: but whosoever will lose his life for my sake, the same shall save it’. I believe the Savior is telling us that unless we lose ourselves in service to others, there is little purpose to our own lives. Those who live only for themselves eventually shrivel up and figuratively lose their lives, while those who lose themselves in service to others grow and flourish–and in effect save their lives.” End quote. 

The thought that we will be better off and grow more when we focus on the needs of others is amazing, and as I look back I realize just how much my experiences at camp taught me to notice people the way Christ noticed people, and to love them the best way I know how, regardless of whether they seek it out or not.

Even within scouting, camp is not the only opportunity I’ve been given to learn to serve others. As many of you know, the Eagle Scout is the highest rank awarded within the BSA, and one of the final steps is to organize, lead, and complete a service project benefitting the community. This project aims to emphasize leading others to serve those around you, and from a more eternal perspective, it aids in shifting our focus from ourselves and our own learning towards the needs of others. As it says in Mosiah 2:17, “When ye are in the service of your fellow beings, ye are only in the service of your God”. My Eagle Project was an opportunity to use my time and talents to serve the Lord by serving His children. By sacrificing my time and effort for others, I felt the Holy Ghost more present in my life. As we do this, we can become more like the Savior, whose Atonement was the ultimate sacrifice and service. 

This leads me to another aspect of serving others that has strengthened my testimony and forever changed my personal relationship with Christ: attitude. Another organization within the Boy Scouts that I was given a chance to experience, learn, and grow from was something called the Order of the Arrow. This is the honor society of the BSA, and exists to recognize those who best exemplify the Oath and Law, and to develop leadership through service to their local communities. Within scouting, it is quite often referred to as the “Brotherhood of Cheerful Service”.

Now, OA, as it’s referred to for short, is not about being noticed or recognized, but rather to cheerfully provide service that can positively improve the experience of others. This, again, reminded me of the way Christ spent his ministry on Earth. He spent so much of his time quietly serving others, lifting people one by one, without any desire for praise or recognition. He simply served them out of love. That doesn’t mean that my testimony is growing because I have worn an OA sash, or because I spent a dozen weekends up at Island Park, instead, every time I choose to cheerfully serve those around me instead of focusing on myself, I feel just that much closer to the Savior.

Additionally, the way we approach service can work wonders on our hearts and minds. As we become less concerned with our desires or the struggles of our daily lives, and start to focus on what we can do for the lives of those around us, we become closer to Heavenly Father and what he wants for His children.

While Order of the Arrow did in fact help me become a better scout, it did so much more than that. It helped prepare me to be a better disciple. I have come to enjoy service, with or without recognition, serve even when it wasn’t convenient, and find joy in helping others. These qualities are all vital to missionary work and bringing yourself and others around you closer to Christ.

However, scouting is just one of many ways I and countless others have been blessed to serve. Quite possibly my favorite form of service in recent months has been the chances I have had to serve in and attend the temple. In fact, temple work is the prime example of serving others without any recognition, and it is a form of service through which you are acting completely selflessly. Think about it, most kinds of service have some sort of tangibility to it. Whether that is building something within the community, bringing your elderly neighbor (or father’s) groceries in, teaching someone, spending time with someone, or even just making someone else laugh. The temple, on the other hand, is completely different. We give our time, attention, WORTHINESS, and love for people that we’ve never even met in this life.

Within the temple, while performing that service and those ordinances, whether it be baptisms and confirmations, or initiatories and endowments, we are instruments in the Lord’s hands. Those who we are serving simply cannot serve themselves, and as such rely on our willingness and active decision to serve in order to receive the same blessings we have the ability to receive. While we are by no means replacing the Savior, we are participating in His work, and as such we should do anything in our power to take advantage of this opportunity.

Personally, since receiving my endowment at the beginning of the summer, I have been able to attend nearly a dozen times in the leadup to my mission. These sessions have strengthened my testimony in a way that only temple service can, and has brought me so much closer to Christ, all the while serving as an opportunity to help those who won't have the chance to make those covenants on their own. Alongside these sessions, I was blessed with the chance to attend the temple and do baptisms for the dead 3 days in a row this past week with a couple friends. I quickly noticed the positive impact it had on my day, the peace I felt both in the temple and throughout the rest of the day, and found myself looking forward to the chance to go back the following morning. In his talk titled “Make Time for the Lord” in October General Conference of 2021, President Russel M. Nelson reminds us “Nothing will strengthen your spiritual foundation like temple service and temple worship”. Temple service isn’t just a blessing for those on the other side of the veil, it also changes us and allows us to come closer to Christ.

While our work in the temple consists of performing ordinances for those beyond the veil, missionary work is a way in which we can assist the living in preparing to receive those same ordinances. Again I am reminded of something shared with us by President Nelson who taught “Anytime you do anything that helps anyone–on either side of the veil–take a step toward making covenants with God and receiving their essential baptismal and temple ordinances, you are helping to gather Israel. It is as simple as that” (“Hope of Israel” Worldwide Youth Devotional, June 3, 2018).

Although missionary work is centered around the doctrine, I have learned that there is so much more to it. In Alma 17, Ammon traveled to the land of the Lamanites with the intention of sharing the gospel. As he was brought before the king of the Lamanites, King Lamoni, he was questioned on his purpose. He expressed his desire to dwell with the Lamanites, and King Lamoni was not only pleased with Ammon, but even offered up one of his daughters to Ammon to wife. However, Ammon instead asked if he could be a servant to the king. As he watched over the king’s flocks, he valiantly defended them from thieves with his sling, and ultimately smote the arms off of any who approached him. Ammon did this not to seek recognition, but out of love and through his faithfulness. In fact, while the rest of the king’s servants rushed in to the king to tell him about Ammon’s courage, Ammon returned to the stables to tend to the king’s horses and chariots, as he had been commanded previously.

Ultimately, the service Ammon provided to King Lamoni opened the hearts of the king and the his people, and they were willing to listen to his testimony of Christ and the Plan of Salvation. Through simple acts of humble service, Ammon earned their trust, opened the door to teach the gospel, and eventually witnessed the conversion of King Lamoni and many of the people around him through the power of the Holy Ghost.

As it turns out, that same principle has been true in my life. Whether that was my participation in scout camp, the completion of my eagle project, the service I completed in the Order of the Arrow, serving in the temple, or preparing for my mission, I have come to know that service changes not only the lives of those we help, it changes us. If we serve with love, our testimonies will be strengthened as we become more like the Savior.

Alongside the example of Ammon, I’ve witnessed firsthand through spending time with the missionaries in our ward that oftentimes, the most effective way to minister is to simply treat everyone with kindness, lend service, and meet the needs of those around you. As we minister to those around us, they will be more receptive to the doctrine and the love we want to share. So often in Christ’s own life and ministry, he too would first bless, heal, and comfort people before he taught. Such examples include the woman at the well in Samaria, the blind man, and Zacchaeus. In each of these instances, Christ saw the individual, met them where they were, and showed them His love. That love, in turned, opened their hearts to Him.

All of these examples, Ammon’s time with the Lamanites, and my time with the missionaries have all taught me a crucial lesson as I prepare to serve. Missionary work isn’t all about winning debates with those of other faiths, teaching lessons, or knocking a certain number of doors, but rather about loving God’s children enough to introduce them to the Savior and his Atonement. The things they learn and the gospel we spread will work wonders in their lives, but our charity is what opens the door.

The Lord continually provides us the opportunity to serve, not just to help his children, but to allow us to grow in our testimonies and become more like Him. The opportunities we are given to serve can be stepping stones in our path back to Heavenly Father, and have most certainly brought me closer to Him and his gospel, slowly but surely over time. And while scout camp, my eagle project, order of the arrow, service in the temple, and now my upcoming mission have been my personal stepping stones, the Lord knows each of us individually and as such carefully places those opportunities into our lives that he knows will best serve us and allow us to serve others.

I’d like to invite you all to think about the stepping stones the Lord has placed into your lives, and consider how your testimony has been and can continue to be strengthened. Consider how you can be drawn closer to him as you continue to serve those around you.

I know just how great the impact of service, and that the Lord blesses those who love, serve, and minister to others. I know that as we serve, our testimonies will be strengthened as we turn our hearts to the will of the Father, and that through this we can become more like Him. I know that this church is true. I know that Arizona is the place the Lord knows I will best serve His children, and that through His power I can help gather Israel. I know the Book of Mormon is true, and that when we study and pray with real intent that our testimonies will grow, and that we will come to know of its truth. I know my Heavenly Father loves me, and that no matter how hard it might be to leave behind my life, family, friends, and obligations, that this opportunity to serve the Lord and His children is one I cannot take for granted.

Amen.

I'm not A Very Good Artist

Today's task -- a surprise one to me -- included a few tasks in the kitchen.

I started painting the kitchen ceiling a while back, so today was the day to finish. That included the ceiling patch over the kitchen itself, doing a bit of ceiling caulking, and then trying to touch up the paint on these plaster bricks where over time some dings happened and exposed the white plaster underneath.

I'm not very good at it, but from a distance the bricks look better than they did.

I did make a complete mess in the kitchen. I need to get back up there and commit a tidying before Michelle gets home.

I also re-caulked the backsplash behind the sink, complete with new caulk and some better backer rod. We really need to replace the cabinets and countertops, but it's just not in the budget.

 

Heyyy, Uppp! Heyyy, Upp!

This morning's sunrise from the work parking lot, with the sun shining through the lingering smoke from the Big Rock Fire up near Heise.

[Grumbles through parking lot to work.]

Old Man Injury

Anybody remember how I got this scrape on my leg? Because I don't.

Way too Late at the Movies: Hunt for the Wilderpeople

To be honest, I had no idea "Hunt for the Wilderpeople" from 2016 existed.

But my 2026 is richer having seen it.

I could be cute and talk about how it's a sleeper film from New Zealand, which is true, but I won't be cute. The film speaks for itself.

Personally, I want to be Psycho Sam when I grow up:

But I don't think I have enough pots to wear to keep the government out of my mind.

Seriously fun movie. See it if you haven't. We laughed all the way through it. Though it also has some pretty strong messaging about family, and what constitutes a family, and how sometimes officialdom gets in the way of what a family is or at least could be.

It's a Taika Waititi film, and he's always had me curious. I still really want to see his "JoJo Rabbit," though I'm not quite sure I'm ready for that film yet. It's light and dark, from what I understand. Anway, I'll watch for his name with interest.

Vacant Lot

Most everyone in this town would look at this stretch of 25th East between Iona Road and the Yellowstone Highway and see some vacant lots.

Well, not quite vacant, because this map is old, and at the corner of 25th East and Iona is a business: Idaho Monument Company, the gravestone marketer that's relocating from the corner of 25th East and the highway, a few lots out of shot.

Why are the lots vacant? The county and state are working on a road project to widen 25th East and fix the intersection at the US highway, and the houses and business there had to go.

Progress, you say. We have serious need to improve the road infrastructure in this town because of the increased population and the traffic that population brought with it.

I agree.

I also happen to have grown up in a house built by my Dad on the lot outlined in red.

There's a fair contingent of folks around here who want better roads, but don't want those better roads built near where they live.

Guess what?

For better roads, some sacrifices have to be made. Maybe it's part of the family farm, or a beloved tree, or what have you. Or maybe it's the brick rambler your Dad built a bit at a time for his family of eight kids, who really have a lot of fond memories of that house.

It was no longer in the family. Mom and Dad have passed on, and for a while one of their sons owned the house, but they eventually moved on and the house was sold, as houses often are.

When we learned the house had been sold and was going to be torn down, we were sad.

But I got to thinking about the house. It actually talked to me in a dream, of all things. It said it was tired. It served us well, but that it was time to move on. It reminded me that the memories of the people who lived in that house are much more important than any structure ever could be.

We do have a few material souvenirs. As the house was demolished, our oldest brother got permission to go onto the property and salvage enough bricks that all of the siblings could have one. The brick sits on my desk as I write this.

And it's okay.

Of the three houses my wife and I have owned, one is no more, It survived the Teton Dam flood in 1976; when we remodeled the basement we found dried flood mud atop the foundation. It had been built in the 1920s. But it too was tired, and was demolished to make way for student housing for nearby BYU-Idaho. And again, that's okay. That house served us well, gave us comfortable shelter, and convinced us we weren't cut out to be landlords as we rented the basement out.

Progress.

I know everyone doesn't see it that way. It's just how I see it. It's okay. We move on. And preserve the memories we have.

Our Niagara Falls

 

A little sneak preview of the lesson y'all are gonna get from me on Sunday as once again we discuss the Israelites rapidly going through the good/bad cycle as they try to stay close to God and as they fail.

Their prophets, and some of the people, see it coming, they can see the cycle slowly turning toward the bad, and though they warn and pray and try to act as they should. They knew the signs, but always fell for the trigger.

So what is our Niagara Falls?

The Summer of George is Over

The magic has left summer.

Let me explain: For the past billion summers, the family -- meaning all but me -- have gone to camp, whether it was Island Park Scout Camp or Treasure Mountain Scout Camp. Leaving me at home, of course, with the joke that I was the one earning the real money so they could go play all summer.

I reveled in the restored bachelorhood and found time to get chores done.

Then this summer.

I don't know what made the difference, but I've felt more lonely, more blah, and not all that motivated at all to get things done.

I've tried to get things done. I built a rail on the back steps. Twice. I've split some wood and worked on cleaning up the spot where the pine tree was. But it all feels mechanical. Part of it might be the heat. But I think traditional summer is coming to an end for me.

Part of me needs a vacation. But part of me wants that vacation to be me working on things around the house without having to fret over budgets and whatnot. I guess I'd better keep working so someday we can do that.

I'm trying not to be gloomy. But this year has been hard. Maybe next year, the Summer of George!

Between Books

I'm between books at the moment.

That's a tough place to be for a nebbish like myself.

I do have book pretty much wherever I go. I even took a boxful of books out to work because space is a premium at home and I had a shelf in my office that was pretty empty.

I do most of my reading at work now, at breaks and at lunch, of course. I need to have a new book on hand there, though. I finished one yesterday and forgot to bring a new one today.

I do grab one off the shelf at work in a pinch, but it's not the same. I've got so many that need to be read . . .

A Cloak for Cowardice

As I read "Three Against Hitler," by Rudi Wobbe and Jerry Borrowman - a telling of the story of Helmuth Hubener who, with his friends, including Wobbe, published and distributed anti-Nazi information in their native Hamburg as teenagers, I can't but help to look for parallels to our own day.

This story is an exceptionally good lens for me to look through, as with Wobbe and Hubener, I also am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

Before you sneer, consider this: This isn't necessarily a churchy book or a "Mormon" book either; though the protagonists remain true to their faith, the goal of this book isn't to preach.

And, as with my own observations, it doesn't put all member of the church in a good light; some of them supported the Nazis either through enthusiasm or through simply trying to get along without making waves -- something Hubener and his friends didn't shy away from.

An aside: I don't know how true to the story this movie is. I haven't seen it. I've just read Wobbe's book.

The parallels: Though support of Donald Trump today certainly doesn't rise to the level of supporting the Nazis, there are troubling similarities in members of the church choosing to support, either wholeheartedly, or through a desire not to make waves, what's going on right now. We're on the cusp of something that could turn pretty sinister, and I think it's up to us to decide what side of the fence to be on. I know what side my Dad would have me be on, waves or not. so that's where I lie.

Wobbe's book isn't shy discussing this either. Even after immigrating to Utah, he finds some resistance to the idea of resisting tyranny. We have to be very, very careful in electing whom to support outside of God.

I see members of the church cling to some messages by past prophets as justifications for serving God and mammon. I can't do that. It's Jesus or nothing. If our government chooses to do the wrong thing, we can't go along with it just because one of the tenets of our faith is that we support government. Government does wrong, and we can't support wrong.

As I read this book, I see how easy it is to twist messages. Wobbe shares this from the White Rose Movement, an anti-Nazi organization active during the war:

There is a point at which the law becomes immoral and unethical. That point is reached when it becomes a cloak for the cowardice that dares not stand up against blatant violations of justice. A state that suppresses all freedom of speech and which, by imposing the most terrible punishment, treats each and every attempt at criticism, however morally justified, and every suggestion for improvement as "plotting to high treason," is a state that breaks an unwritten law.

Wobbe concludes that unwritten law is God's law of agency, where it lies in the conscience and heart of each person to decide how to act.

Some look at these words as treasonous. Some look at these words as an excuse to commit treason. It's the contradiction of all contracictions. Wobbe can't explain it, but he saw the result: Many, many people justified their actions out of righteous desires: Patriotism, freedom, loyalty, love.

Part of that unwritten law is do unto others as you would have other do unto you. It cannot be an eye for an eye, or a tooth for a tooth, as that leaves us all blind and toothless.

Wrong should be dealt with and punished. But wrong should be agreed upon, not made whim to whatever political winds blow. I've seen both major US political parties justify wrong in the name of doing something right, or wrong in the name of "The other side is doing it; we have to do so as well or we'll fall behind."

So I'm not a Republican. I'm not a Democrat. Nor am I a libertarian or whatever other political alliances are out there. They're all corrupt and try to justify their wrongness with a cloak of righteousness.

I'd rather go to prison like Wobbe than fall in league with that kind of fiction.

Just. Stop.

The AI slop continues to hurt.

I have not interacted with this one as I don't want to feed the algorithm.

That is the goal, of course. AI offers a refined way to produce ragebait for engagement.

Burn in hell, Dr. Marvin. (She never says that.)

Way too Late at the Movies: Project Hail Mary

I guess I'm not *too* late for this one, as it came out this year.

And wow, this is good old-fashioned hard science fiction with something Elon Musk would absolutely hate: Empathy.

I won't dwell on Musk's incredulous thoughts and focus rather on the movie, which displays self-sacrifice and empathy in spades.

Sure, part of the self-sacrifice is forced: Protagonist Grace is sent on a species-saving mission against his will **spoilers** literally drugged into a coma and winkled aboard the spaceship.

But he grows into empathy as he awakens and finds his other two crew members have died on the way to Tau Ceti where they hope to find the answer to a mystery that is threatening Earth's sun.

Back against the wall, Grace could have done nothing. But he finds Rocky, another sentient being sent to Tau Ceti, also alone, trying to find the answer to the same question.

They figure out how to talk to each other. They figure out how to help each other work on the mystery. And they figure out that the best way to help "save the world" is to get along and focus on the problem.

That is, of course, not all. Once the problem is solved, Grace runs into another problem that could threaten them both. But they're separated by a month of travel. Does he go back to help Rocky, and risk is own future?

Damn right he does. He sends his discoveries on to Earth in probes, as Earth's suicide mission originally intended, and goes back to help Rocky survive and live to help his own planet.

Absolutely loved this film.

Mortgage Going Down

We're to the point in our lives where we owe less than $40,000 on our home mortgage.

The number shown here is even a bit old.

Not bragging. Well, maybe a little about that interest rate. I still can't believe we got that -- this was from a refinance when we rolled $14,000 in debt for solar panels into the mortgage as well. (Sure, if we hadn't done that, we'd owe even less on the house, but doing so cut the interest rate on the panels by five full points, so it was worth it.)

I'd love to be able to do some kind of lump sum payment to get it all done at once, but we're not to that point yet.

One Last Log

Today, and thanks in part to a random Amazon driver who had some advice on log-splitting, I got down to just one more massive log to split. And at this point, I'm not sure I'm going to cut it up. Oh, I probably will, but I'm feeling pretty tired at the moment.

I still have a lot of work to do to make this area more presentable, clearly. But getting the firewood out of the way is a big step and should make the rest of the work easier to accomplish.

Copyright Strike Incoming

Spotted in the wild today:

United States Department of Education 'bout to get a copyright strike from Disney.

They do not play around with their IP.

Book Review: The Town, by Shaun Prescott

There’s a part in Groundhog Day where Bill Murray’s Phil Connors is talking with two Punxatawney derelicts in a bar, who knows how long into his confinement in the town, where one of the derelicts says Phil strikes him as a “glass half empty” kind of person.

Phil, lost in the neverending small-town hell, replies: “What would you do if you were stuck in one place and every day was exactly the same, and nothing that you did mattered?”

The other derelict, soppy in his beer, responds “That pretty much sums it up for me.”

Phil, of course, escapes his exile in small-town hell as he gives up the self-pity and self-loathing and loses himself in service to what he discovers are the delightful characters of this small hamlet in western Pennsylvania that make the town pleasant, appealing, and definitely worth living in.

At the end of his film, having won the heart of his long-long-ed-for Rita, he says, “Let’s live here. We’ll rent to start.”

I’ve just finished reading Shaun Prescott’s “The Town,” set mostly in a dusty kinda central Australian town gradually being lost, footpaths, fibro houses, and listless, useless inhabitants and all, to a mysterious shimmer never really explained.

At first I saw Phil and the two derelicts in the town, in the story, and thought, “Well, maybe there’s redemption somewhere along the way.” I had my doubts – Prescott’s story was compared to Kafta, famous for no redemption whatsoever.

And I went with that feeling – but not with allusions to Kafka, but more with allusions to Jean-Paul Sartre, who famously wrote “Hell is other people.”

The concluding idea to Prescott’s story is similar, but perhaps even more gloomy: Apocalypse, it seems, is other people.

Because Prescott’s town suffers a nameless, formless apocalypse wrapped in the metaphor of holes appearing and causing blocks of the town and its inhabitants to disappear, but the story is really an apocalyptic tale without the apocalypse, as the people his characters encounter are a far worse fate than any mysterious shimmer could ever be.

There’s a lot about belonging to this tale, and at the end, well, nobody really finds it. There’s no surcease from the hell of the small town in the city.

Early on in the novel, we get this:

“People might be wiser to cower in towns. Maybe they wouldn’t be so devastated when the sea water rose. Maybe when everything became desperate, a small town would finally live up to the qualities that everyone believed them to have: Namely, that everyone would help one another out. Maybe the town would have tea parties during the apocalypse, while people in the city tore each other to shreds.”

Of course, people in the town tore each other to shreds, whether through a grudge, a fistfight, or general disdain. When the apocalyptic shimmer arrived and claimed victims, no one seemed too bothered, as it wasn’t them being lost forever.

The protagonist and Ciara, another small-town denizen, flee to the city, and quickly discover this:

“[Ciara] told me that everyone in the city speaks about the city in the same way that people in the town spoke about the town. They say the city is not what it used to be. If she asks what it used to be, they simply reply that it used to be more like a city.”

The apocalypse of people find them in the city, though the shimmer is long left behind. And it not needed, as the apocalypse is there all along.

The Red Herring is Ailing

So this isn't good.

Or maybe it's not all *that* bad, but it might be.

Ignore the airbag light. That's a sensor we should replace, but they're hard to find. More worrying are the check engine and VTM-4 lights. Who knows how much that's going to cost to get fixed.

We'll find out. We've got 264,000 miles on this thing so it has fought the good fight, but if we could squeeze another 50,000 or 75,000 miles out of it' I'd be happy. But it's all going to depend on what's wrong with the thing. It's been very reliable up to this point, so I hate to see it go.

It does have a few other problems: Leaking power steering, and maybe a tie rod that's causing some unusual wear on the front passenger tire. We did get it to our mechanic today, so at least that part is over.

Don't want to break the bank. But Isaac says he wants to use this car when he gets back from his mission in 2028. We'll have to see if that happens.

And for this Honda Pilot, 2005, I do mean reliable. Aside from tires and regular maintenance, we've replaced the starter. Everything else has just been hanging on.

 

If this is Good, I'm Cranky

Update: I started reading this yesterday, July 29. It's really good.

If this book is good, I'm going to be happy.

And really mad.

Peep the author: Hugh Laurie. Yes, the Hugh Laurie of Jeeves and Wooster, of Blackadder, of House. And the Hugh Laurie the pianist and singer:

He really impresses me with the depth and breadth of his talent.

So if this book is good, I'm going to have to say he's a polymath. And that's blatantly unfair.

Which is stupid to say. He's got the talents, it's a shame not to use them. And if I applied myself, I could do better than what I'm doing now that's for sure.

Still, the little green monster pops up. I almost left the book at the store just because of that. But I brought it home anyway because WHAT IF IT'S GOOD? I want to read it, so it's going to climb to the top of the reading pile.

Because it's important to remember that the talents displayed by others does not denigrate or limit the talent we may have, whether displayed or latent. We should strive to develop our talents and celebrate when others, even irritating polymaths like this, display excellent talent for the rest of us to enjoy. Their talent does not diminish us or ours. We should instead be inspired by that talent to better our own. That's where I am to be.

Whence the Electricity?

Interesting stuff here.

Here we are in the West, where hyrdropower abounds -- the city next door generates more than half of the electricity it needs through hydropower -- yet Rocky Mountain Power generates on. 4.8% of its electricity from hydro. That coal number is a bit unnerving.

Interesting that 10.7% of the energy it uses is unspecified. The legend on the other side of the chart says that the unspecified electric generation comes from renewable resources that the company itself doesn't own. I wonder if that's where customers like us, who have solar on the roof, fit in?

I'd be curious as well to see a breakdown on the sources of the market purchased electricity.

They are toying with nuclear at a spot near Brigham City, Utah, but that's only in the talking stages. While next door in Idaho Falls, they're a little bit beyond talk as they've got a memorandum of understanding for a number of small modular reactors to be built near the city's gas-fired peaking plant.

Rail 2.0

So the rail I built a few weeks ago worked. But not 100 percent. It was at an OK height from the concrete, but when we were using the stairs, it felt a bit short.

So this morning I rebuilt it, raised it a foot, and it's a lot better now.

I might add a third rail at the bottom, but I'm not sure if I'm going to do that yet.

Daisy tested it out and, like the first iteration, is completely indifferent to it.

I'm Not Sure But I Think This Sucks

From Butt-Head's "I'm not sure but I think this sucks" department:

A year ago, we had a pine tree in this spot, but we had it cut down because it was huge and dropping sap everywhere and covering a third of the neighbors' driveway (let this be a lesson to not only recycle more frequently but also to plant new trees further from the property line).

Many years before I placed an attractive array of river rock neath the tree, spreading out in fanciful swirly patterns.

Nature, favoring entropy, used the pine tree to cover said swirls with inch upon inch of pine tree debris, which I am now sorting through to rediscover the rocks so they can be cleaned and reclaim their former glory around the stump of she who covered them o'er.

I've done two hours of this today and only reclaimed two buckets of rocks 

This is going to take forever.

Since I have to redo everything anyway, I'm thinking of changing things. But it's going to take a lot of work. Once I've got the rocks cleared out, I have to finish chopping up the rest of the logs and removing some roots that were interfering with the original project more than a decade ago.

I don't know that I'll dig all of the roots out, but at least the parts that protrude above ground level. There's some in the patch, and one in the yard as well.

I'm sorting rocks out too. Big rocks from the smaller rocks, so I can re-establish the swirly patterns.

I'm using another rock garden that also needs to be cleaned out too as a staging area for the materials I'm moving As I said, this is going to take forever.

That Pretty Much Sums it Up for Me

 

I'm reading "The Town," by Australian author Shaun Prescott.

It's got echoes of Kafka, but in the small-town setting where nothing really happens and nothing that anyone there does matters, I'm getting more of a Groundhog Day vibe. But without the humor.

Not to say I'm giving up on it. I'll keep going. But it really is falling hard for the "small town people are either tragic losers or losers in that they don't realize how much of a bunch of losers they are" trope, and it's not all that entertaining.

Maybe it'll get better.

Leave it to Congress to do the Wrong Thing

News item:

The US House of representatives has passed a bill to make Daylight Saving time permanent in the United States.

Nevermind that their decision, if approved by the Senate, will make for sunrise times as late as 9:05 am in the depth of winter locally. They believe, bless their hearts, that they're doing the right thing.

From a guy who already suffers from seasonal depression, let me say thank you. I don't know what we'd do without them in charge.

Stephen Ambrose: Americans at War

When I opened this book and saw the first essay concerned the Civil War, I wasn't sure I wanted to read it.

But Stephen Ambrose being Stephen Ambrose, and me being a stubborn reader who doesn't like to give up on books, I read. And read. And kept on reading.

Ambrose, in 252 pages, takes the reader from the U.S. Civil War to today's world, accurately predicting pilotless aircraft and conflict between Russia and Ukraine, and shedding light on the events and figures in America's wars from the mid-1800s into the future.

I enjoyed his profiles of Douglas MacArthur and George Patton as a World War II buff.

But his essays on the homefront and later on the My Lai massacre were the best parts of the book.

Ambrose, in only a few dozen pages, took me beyond the rah-rah of a nation united into a nation I vaguely remember reading about in some of the history books we had a home: Fighting a racist war against Japan while maintaining a segregated army and putting Japanese-Americans into prisons for the duration. He took us from Franklin Delano Roosevelt hoping to avoid as many civilian casualties as possible to advocating for firebombing cities in the hopes it would end the war sooner.

Mistakes sown there led to similar mistakes in Vietnam, where racism continued to bubble and mixed signals really fuddled the mission of the US in that nation.

Ambrose, of course, has the advantage of looking back at history to see the rights and wrongs, but also reminds us that we have no control over the past and that the only control we have on the future is remaining aware of what's going on now. He mentioned this quote from humorist James Thurber, and it's really stuck with me:

That's something I'm going to try to remember myself.

Safe Wee

 

I renewed my radiation worker training at work today, so rest assured the world is that much safer.

Of note: There's a flaw in the training, at least in my way of thinking, and I believe I mentioned it the last time I took it. It's still there. And maybe it's just me. But they shouldn't show one way of doing thing and then go on to introduce new steps in the quiz portion of the training. Maybe they don't regard the quiz as a quiz. I guess the important thing is that the training is done.

Not that I use it all that much; not that I use it at all. But as a technical writer, it does help me get a better feel for what operators are required to do, and any bit of understanding of the process can make for better instructions.

And I find myself feeling old-fashioned. In this web-based training is the ghost of the practical exercise I did for the first time in a real-life mockup with a Navy nuke teaching the course. That was better.

Way too Late at the Movies: A Man Could Get Killed

Stumbled across a James Garner move from 1966 on the YouTubes tonight: "A Man Could Get Killed." It's your standard mistaken identity story where Garner, a representative of a New York bank sent to Portugal to pursue joint ventures for hydroelectricity development is mistaken for a spy searching to break an industrial diamond smuggling ring.

It's directed by Ronald Neame, who also directed The Poseidon Adventure. But no swaying camera motion because Irwin Allen wasn't involved.

It was odd to me that the film contained snatches of "Strangers in the Night," a popular song of the time -- and then I read it's the film that introduced the song. So it makes more sense now.

It's an okay film. Typical of the era, where it was meant to be a lot of things -- a comedy, a drama, etc., and never really succeeds fully at anything.

James Garner seems to have come into his befuddled everyman persona pretty early. He's the highlight of the film in my book, though the old European cars, particularly an Opel, Peugeot that would make Columbo happy, and a 2CV, are also worthy of billing.

Sandra Dee is also in this film, though I had to look at the Wikipedia page to learn that. I don't really know a lot of stars from this era.

James Garner pulling the James Garner face.

'Ee's Drinking Sodie Pop!

A photo of our oldest, at scout camp, drinking a can of soda.

Unusual because he NEVER drinks soda.

"I wanted to see what the fuss is all about," he says. He reports he likes the flavor but is still not a fan of the carbonation.

There it Is

This morning, some texts:

Now, I'm already looking at the out of Idaho area code. But as cell numbers are portable and have been for years, it's not uncommon to get calls or texts from numbers that ain't local to Idaho.

Also, we do have dogs. We have neighbors who love to complain about things like lights and imaginary nonsense. So I'm a little sensitive to this situation.

But I'm also skeptical. It's true our dogs are indoor dogs and don't spend the night outside.

So it went on:

They did send a video.

I was hesitant to click on it. but I did.

It certainly did include a dog barking at night. But there was an outdoor fireplace in the video that I did not recognize as belonging to anyone close enough to be bothered by a barking dog. I spend enough time looking at my own property on Google Maps to know. Now, I know the info there isn't 100% up-to-date, but another red flag.

Still, I went on:

Tiburon. I Googled it, and it appears to be a chi-chi suburb of San Francisco, which matches with the out-of-Idaho area code. So another red flag. But the conversation was winding down.

Until: There it is.

Yeah. Softening me up for the kill. I'm sure had the conversation gone on longer, it would have resulted in a scam. Maybe money. Maybe blackmail over naughty photos. You never know.

And I won't either. Immediately blocked and reported as spam.

And I didn't even feel bad about it.

Who's Suing Me?

 

Someone attached a sheaf of papers to our front door this morning. The wind keeps catching them and our Ring camera picks up the motion. I've had like a hundred notifications today on my phone.

Turns out it was a notice from the city on a delayed chip seal project in the neighborhood.

My Facebook friends, of course, are feeding my paranoid nature.

I Miss WordPerfect . . .

So, here's a conundrum maybe someone else in the universe has encountered:

We use Microsoft Word at work for word processing. Nothing unusual there.

Our record documents are Word documents converted to PDF via Adobe. Again, nothing unusual there.

But three times in the last two weeks, we've seen the PDF version of the document mess up something in Word -- and since the PDF is the record version, we have to revise the document so it can be used. Fortunately, two of the three instances I've mentioned got caught at the revision phase, so they haven't gone live yet.

What's odd is that in Word, everything appears hunky-dory. It's only in the rendering that things get messed up. I can't go into the details, but what we see is step numbering and cross references getting messed up.

I've looked on the Internet, of course, for others experiencing the same problem. And as with many things on the Internet, I'm able to find people who are experiencing other Word to PDF problems, but nothing exactly like what we're seeing.

So, anyone within the sound of my voice seeing similar problems? And more importantly, what did you do to fix them?

Don't Push the Red Button or Pull the Dangly Cord

From Stephen Ambrose's essay "Struggle for Vicksburg: The Battles and Siege that Decided the Civil War."

Cocksure no doubt.

The text:

The Indiana and the Illinois units came over the barricade north of the railroad and captured a gun. Private James S. Adkins of the 33rd Illinois, exhilarated by the bloodless victory, leaped astride the gun tube, waved his elbows up and down at his sides, and crowed like a rooster. Then, curious, he tugged at the lanyard. The gun went off, hurling a shell close over the heads of the units coming up in support, and bucking Adkins head over heels into the dirt. Miraculously, no one was hurt.

Gen X/Boomer Tendencies

Presenting a Gen X/Boomer tendency here.

Instagram confuses me. I don't understand the interface. I get notifications on my phone that my friends are posting - even sending me messages - and when I can find the app on my damn phone I open it and I get lost. I can't find the posts or messages my friends are sending me.

Too old, yes. I remember when they invented chocolate. Sweet, sweet chocolate . . .

I should remind my readers: As Gen X, I can adapt to new technology as well as any Millennial, but I reserve the right to be cranky about it like my Boomer ancestors.

90s Maigret Pleased, 2020s Maigret Curious

The last few days I've enjoyed watching an old Grenada Television show from the 1990s on YouTube -- starring Michael Gambon as Chief Inspector Maigret of the Paris police.

This chief inspector is far from the bumbling of Inspector Clouseau. The stories are based on novels written in the 1950s by French author Georges Simenon. I've read a few (in the original French, because that's how I found them in one of the missionary apartments I stayed in). They're wonderfully told, tight mysteries that really capture the feel of old Paris.

I'm intrigued that the stories have been retold more recently with Rowan Atkinson in the titular role; I'd love to see a few of those.

The Bacheloring

So it begins: The Bacheloring.

Michelle has been to camp off and on for a month now, but after a two-week break the whole family sans Lexi are headed to camp, even Isaac, who we thought wouldn't be going this year.

Michelle's up there as Cope and Climbing Director.

Liam is up there working in Nature and helping out with Trail to Eagle and the Astronomy Merit Badge.

Isaac, after a rough go of not really being welcomed back due to reasons, is going back as a commissioner, which thrilled him to no end because he's sick of working at Reed's Dairy and needed one more fling before he starts is mission in mid-August.

That leaves me and the dogs all alone. ALONE.

But I don't want to be alone. I'm no good on my own.

Take today: After church, I made dinner for myself. That's not so bad, because I only have to worry about what I want for dinner. But since then . . . I've taken a nap. I've played a video game. I've watched some YouTube. And that's about all I'll be doing for the next few weeks. At least I don't have to teach Sunday School next weekend.

I have a lot of yard work lined up for the next few weeks, though. Going to finish getting all the sticker weeds out of the garden, going to finish splitting the wood from the chopped down pine tree, and do some general cleanup in that area. Also have to mow lawns. And rebuild the rail I put on the back porch last weekend because the one that's there is a bit too short. But that'll be simpler since I've got the wood for it already and a general path forward on what the rail will look like.

Fun stuff. Whee.

Pardon Me, Google?

So I'm uploading a photo to this blog as I always do, and suddenly Google is asking me to sign into my Google account.

You know, the Google account I was already signed into so I could post something to my blog.

Why ya gotta be this way?

Way too Late at the Movies: The Night Stalker

As a longtime fan of A Christmas Story, I've known for a long time that the Old Man, Darren McGavin, starred in a movie, and then a television series, called The Night Stalker, wherein as a newspaper reporter in either Las Vegas or Chicago or it seems wherever the story called for, he investigates supernatural crimes.

The first film has his pursuing a vampire through Las Vegas' seedy underbelly.

The film is, eh, not exactly well written, but other than the Old Man, did include a surprise or two.

First, the Old Man:

He's looking good. And does a lot of narration in the film which I guess it a choice, but I'm not sure it works for me.

And the coroner. At least we know he has medical experience:

The script is really funny. At the onset of the film, McGavin's character - Kolchack - says he was pulled off the first vacation he's taken in years to write the story of a series of murders for the newspaper. Then his editor at the paper goes on to berate him and thwart him and bend the knee to the officials who want the story suppressed.

Mild spoiler: Just after he tells the police it's likely they're dealing with a vampire and under no circumstances should they approach him at night, he breaks into the vampire's house at night because of course he does. I guess it's less exciting of a movie if he waits until daylight and skewers the guy with a stake.

There are some other actors in the film I can't place. Claude Aiken is there, pre-Sheriff Lobo, I believe. But there's a smarmy dude I can't place, though I'm pretty sure I've seen him before.

Done Smithering

The week is over, and I'm done smithering. And by that, I mean I'm done filling in for the boss, who's been on vacation.

It was a good week to smither. A lot of people were leaving early for an extended Fourth of July vacation, which suited me fine.

But, for the first time, I actually accomplished things as the WIPP Review Coordinator. Actually did things, communicating out information with others in the nuclear waste industrial complex so we can all agree to get along and swap waste and keep everyone happy. Late Thursday I was told that I was part of the process that helped the company earn a $250,000 fee for completing work on time. Not that I get any of that money outside of my pay, of course. But it did feel good to be part of the process and hopefully I didn't screw up too much. We'll find out more during the debrief on Monday when the boss is back. But I don't think I committed any major screw-ups.

We did have one thing non-WIPP related turn up that was interesting: Something went wrong when one of our procedures posted to the company website and step numbering was off. What was odd is that on the surface of the Word copy, everything looked fine, but the render to PDF made it blow up. So we had to revise the procedure. Then I was tasked to work on another procedure from the same group, and I'll be darned if I didn't see the same thing happen. Fortunately we're aware of the problem now and can be more vigilant, just like W. A. Thornhump, VIGILANT AGAINST FURTHER ATTACKS.

He's Got A Knife

 

This reminds me of the time I used a kitchen knife to cut holes in a cardboard box for our then toddler to play in.

His mother spotted him soon after with the knife, going to the box to make more holes.

Good times.

Bill Bryson's "A Walk in the Woods"

I tend to take Bill Bryson with a grain of salt, as I get the feeling he's more of an exaggerator than a truthful reporter of the real.

Nevertheless, I enjoyed this book, though the humor he's often credited for comes off a lot as snark and smarm in this one. When reading Bryson, I always have the feeling he has never met another human being who has met up to his lofty standards, and that's wearing as you read his interactions. Maybe there's less mileage to be had through reporting pleasant interactions, or that we all as flawed humans remember the people we didn't like better than the ones we did.

That's just my take, I guess. I try to have a better view of humanity, though I often fail at is, particularly as I navigate the streets and marvel at the idiots I have to share the road with. There's a little of that Bryson superiority in us all, I suppose.

One caution with this book: Katz, Bryson's hiking companion for portions of the books, swears a bit. Not egregiously, and it does make him feel a bit more human than Bryson ever does. I didn't necessarily want to put up with the language, but at least the character of Katz felt real, and might come close to being the only character in the book that met Bryson's expectations.