Alma 32

Alma 32:33 And now, behold, because ye have tried the experiment, and planted the seed, and it swelleth and sprouteth, and beginneth to grow, ye must needs know that the seed is good.

This is a verse in the Book of Mormon about faith, and trying out a new way of thinking, of viewing the world. In context, it is one of faith. It was a section that I knew well as a missionary for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints back in my early 20's. It is the foundational book of the church and one that we hawked non-stop for my two years in the service. While I personally was embarrassed by some of the story contained in the book, I wasn't ashamed of this chapter in particular. It was one that I used in my own life. I was indeed happier by associating with the church before and after my mission. During, not so much, but I've written enough about that.

Since that time, I've used this verse differently. My faith has faltered as I studied Christianity and my church in particular. Now, before anyone gets all judgemental here, this is MY story. I don't speak to anyone's experience but my own.

Still, coming to terms with this new information wasn't comforting. I found it difficult to operate in my old paradigm. I wrote new friends and old trying to make sense of what I was reading and learning. I wrote blog posts on other blogs to document what I felt and when. When I confided with Tracy about what I was going through, I was beside myself because unbelief is the worst thing a man can do to anyone, and I was expressing my unbelief to the person that meant the most to me. That it didn't go over well is an understatement.

After a hard year of endless discussion, I/we decided that we would try Alma's experiment in reverse. We stopped going to church as our nerves for both of us were on edge.

It worked. I had such deep-seated self-loathing because of who I was and how I felt and that it was wrong in the eyes of the church and ultimately, the Lord, that it affected most of my world-view. I began to look at things entirely differently. My political leanings became more centered. My feelings of empathy became so much stronger. I forgave myself of what I had done in the past and realized that I was a pretty decent person and that if God couldn't accept me as I was, then he/she had issues, not me. I honestly and visibly became happier outside of the church instead of in it. I think the same could be said of the rest of my family. In many ways, we have flourished in just being ourselves without fear of judgment.

Yes, in many respects, the church made me happy at one time. I became more social than I would have been otherwise. I met some of the greatest people in my life. I had a great education. My family, in many respects, is here because of the church.

I listened to others. I read books by members of the church that brought into question the foundational claims of Christianity and the church in particular. I started, I feel, to honestly evaluate all the history that I knew and ask myself if I wanted this in my life especially since I couldn't give it my ringing endorsement any longer. I didn't believe in magic, and that is where the Book of Mormon came from. I couldn't believe in the Restoration of the Priesthood, because that seemed to be a later fabrication. Everything that I read talked about how the scriptures changed with time, why members left when they did (and it seemed like the reasonable thing to do if I was in the same position). Indeed, as a father, if Joseph Smith asked of me what he asked of his followers, I would have asked for his arrest. Since that time, these "anti-mormon lies" have been admitted to by the church essays, if you care to read the footnotes and make fairly logical conclusions, you might think the same.

But I'm happier outside of it. I put the experiment to the test in reverse, and I'm happier without it in my life. Who knew?

The Priest, The Lemon, and The Secret

There was once a priest who went to see the world after taking his oath. After many years of wandering, he finally arrived in a small village in the middle of nowhere. The people there believed in the same religion as he did, but they had no church; they had to go to the nearest one which was in a small town 25 km's from there. The priest took the initiative, asked the Church for support, and with the help of the local men they built their own temple. From there on, he was celebrating the Sunday masses, joining together men and women in Holy Matrimony, and saying prayers at the funerals.

Many years passed by like that.

At the end of an ordinary mass, in early spring, on a chilly Sunday morning he was just guiding the people out of the church, was about to close the gates when an unknown man stepped into the churchyard.

With his dirty and torn clothes, he stood before the priest and said:

Priest, please be good and give me half a lemon! - the priest was a good man, and even though he thought the request was a bit strange, he went back to the rectory, took out a lemon, cut it in half, took it back to the man and gave it to him, who looked back to the priest with gratitude. However, the priest was curious. He asked:

Son, why do you need this half of a lemon? - with a fright on his face, and before the priest could have said a thing, he rushed out of the churchyard gate and took off.

A week later, around the same time, when the priest was leaving the church, he found himself in front of the same man in the churchyard. The man said:

Priest, please be good and give me half a lemon! - the priest was surprised by the appearance of the man and his strange request. Of course he was good, went back to the rectory, and brought the half lemon. Placed it in the stranger's hand and immediately he asked:

Here it is, my dear son, but please tell me why do you need this half a lemon? - the man was obviously frightened and immediately ran away but the priest was not sluggish either and ran after him. He wasn't in a very good condition, he has never run so much and so fast before so he was out of breath by the end of the village, almost fainted. He thought the strange man might appear again next week, and it would be nice if he could keep up with him, so he spent his week working on his cardio. It turned out to be a good idea, because as he thought, the stranger entered the churchyard on Sunday. The priest didn't even wait for the request, he was good, and brought the half lemon. He received these words from the man:

Thank you priest for being so good and giving me half a lemon.

Don't mention it son, -said the priest- but please tell me, what do you need it for?! - by the time he finished his sentence the man was already running, but the priest was close behind. They were running for a while and the priest was starting to feel exhausted when they arrived at a wide and swift river. The stranger without thinking threw himself into the river and swam across the river and disappeared on the other side. The priest didn't follow because he couldn't swim. He was annoyed when he got home. He spent the next week learning to swim at the swimming pool in the small town 25 km's away. He was anxiously waiting for the next Sunday; now he was sure that the weird fellow would visit again. On Sunday, as he was closing the church, the gate creaked, and entered the man:

Priest, please be good and give me half a lemon! - the priest was good, went back, put on his swimming trunks, his running shoes, grabbed half of the lemon and took it to the stranger:

Here it is, my son, but please tell me already, why do you need it? - the guy was terrified, rushed out the gate with the priest following. Reached the river, swam across, the priest right behind him. He kept running on the other side of the river and the priest was still on his tail. They kept running until they got to a tall tree on the verge of a deep ravine. The man climbed the tree with the agility of a cat, the priest not knowing how to climb a tree, stood on the ground. He was cursing everything as he walked back home. The following week the villagers watched as the priest in the garden of the church climbs trees, jumping back and forth, and generally behaving very strangely. The priest didn't care, he was exercising obsessively, preparing himself for the meeting. On Sunday before the mass, he put on his trunks and running shoes under his cassock. In fact, he was good and put half a lemon in his pocket in advance. The mass finished much earlier than usually, and he emptied the church as soon as possible so he could warm up. In the same exact time the mass should have ended, the strange man entered the churchyard.

Priest, please be good... - the priest was already handing him half of a lemon, and asked:

Son, why do you need it for God's sake? - the man ran away terrified, the priest followed him. They ran to the river, swam across, ran to the tree, climbed up. The priest almost catched the stranger when he grabbed a vine and swung to the other side of the ravine. The priest was about to have a stroke, but then he saw another vine. Whoop, he grabbed it and swung across. There, however, he encountered an unexpected obstacle: it was a plane graveyard and the man closed himself in one of the wreckages. The priest was raging as he walked around the wreckage several times, but he found no entrance except for the sealed door on the side of the plane; he had to open it somehow. He was furious but he went home. He spent every day at the village's locksmith and learned every possible way of opening a lock. On Sunday he held the mass in his swimming trunks, running shoes, on his back in a waterproof backpack was a crowbar, a cutting torch, a wrench and a drill, then he stood in front of the church and waited for the man. He was there on time.

Priest, please be good and give me half a lemon!

There you go, son - handing him the lemon, because he was good, but in the same time he grabbed the stranger's arm, pulled him close, and with obsession in his eyes, asked:

But what do you need it for?! - panic came over the man as he made his escape from the priest's hands and ran away, but the priest was very close behind. Racing to the river they quickly got across, running up the tree almost breaking their necks, one after the other swung across the ravine, the man barely managed to close the door of the wreckege in the priest's face. Little did he know that the priest would not stop there, because he grabbed his backpack and started working on the lock with his tools. In less than an hour the heavy door creaked open. Inside, the stranger was shivering in horror, he was afraid of the priest's fierce and triumphant look. The priest slowly strode up to the man, crouched down, and very quietly, with a friendly smile on his face, gently asked:

Son. You have been asking for half a lemon for the last few weeks. I'm very happy to give it to you, even in the future, I am only asking in return that you tell me: why do you need it?

All right, priest ... - came the answer in a trembling tone - I will answer your question, but please, be good, and do not tell anyone.

The priest was good, and never told anyone.

Guest Post - Biggest Fear

A lot of people ask me what my biggest fear is, or what scares me most. And I know they expect an answer like heights, or closed spaces, or people dressed like animals, but how do I tell them that when I was 17 I took a class called Relationships For Life and I learned that most people fall out of love for the same reasons they fell in it. That their lover’s once endearing stubbornness has now become refusal to compromise and their one track mind is now immaturity and their bad habits that you once adored is now money down the drain. Their spontaneity becomes reckless and irresponsible and their feet up on your dash is no longer sexy, just another distraction in your busy life.
Nothing saddens and scares me like the thought that I can become ugly to someone who once thought all the stars were in my eyes.

~~~~~~~

I never expected this to be my most popular poem out of the hundreds I’ve written. I was extremely bitter and sad when I wrote this and I left out the most beautiful part of that class.

After my teacher introduced us to this theory, she asked us, “is love a feeling? Or is it a choice?” We were all a bunch of teenagers. Naturally we said it was a feeling. She said that if we clung to that belief, we’d never have a lasting relationship of any sort.

She made us interview a dozen adults who were or had been married and we asked them about their marriages and why it lasted or why it failed. At the end, I asked every single person if love was an emotion or a choice.

Everybody said that it was a choice. It was a conscious commitment. It was something you choose to make work every day with a person who has chosen the same thing. They all said that at one point in their marriage, the “feeling of love” had vanished or faded and they weren’t happy. They said feelings are always changing and you cannot build something that will last on such a shaky foundation.

The married ones said that when things were bad, they chose to open the communication, chose to identify what broke and how to fix it, and chose to recreate something worth falling in love with.

The divorced ones said they chose to walk away.

Ever since that class, since that project, I never looked at relationships the same way. I understood why arranged marriages were successful. I discovered the difference in feelings and commitments. I’ve never gone for the person who makes my heart flutter or my head spin. I’ve chosen the people who were committed to choosing me, dedicated to finding something to adore even on the ugliest days.

I no longer fear the day someone who swore I was their universe can no longer see the stars in my eyes as long as they still choose to look until they find them again.

~unknown

The Door

I'll let you in on a well-known secret. I suck at home improvement. I can't do much of anything in that respect. I try, and I do the things that I can afford to screw up on. However, the big stuff will have to be left to the professionals.

So when my brother-in-law came to visit, I asked him how to do some weather stripping on one of our doors that has suffered over the years. "Oh, there's this little insert do-hickey at the bottom that pops in there. Simple." So he showed me how to take it off. I went to Menards and found a replacement, I cut it off to the right length and bingo. Didn't even have to take the door off.

Then I was walking towards the laundry room a week later while Tracy was getting ready to take the kids somewhere, and since it turns dark around, oh, 2pm, the lights of the car were on. I saw this wide strip of light under the door. Great. Time to put the skills I learned and replace the strip on that door. Hmmmm. No way to do this without taking the door off. Well, I'll wait til a warmer day and when I have help to get the door on and off. I had about a week before a time presented itself. Tracy and I had some time free so "Let's do this thing!"

Tracy clearly was not that excited to do it. Clearly and unmistakably. Being the insecure relationship dude that I am, I thought back to a repair we worked on during our first year of marriage. Let's just say without reservation, I was an ass. It was one of the times where I think I was on my worst behavior. I go back to it because it was such a contrast to how I want to be. Even at the time, I knew I was an ass. No reflection necessary. It was one of those profound moments when I thought those girls that broke up with me were right, that there was something wrong with me and the thing I craved the most, a strong relationship, was out of my reach because I truly was an ass. So my mind went back to that. I tried to be as kind and polite as I could to show my wife, who has put up with so much from me, that I am a nice man and that she shouldn't leave me because our door is now off its hinges.

We went to Manards with the old part in hand, picked up what we needed and headed back. She helped me with putting it in the slot and getting the door set up. When I wanted to put some grease on the hinges before reassembling them, she warned me not to get any grease on her. Well, of course, I'll try not to get any on her. I'm already stressed by our pending divorce because she was sending out waves of emotional disgust by having to do this. While the door was hard to close because of the fresh insert, we wouldn't be losing much heat from that door this year.

I made mention of it later, letting her know how uncomfortable that was for me. Best to get it out in the open. So, was the problem with how I acted 26 years ago? "No, I just didn't want to do it. I was happy being lazy. I can't even remember about what you are talking about."

OK, she doesn't remember. Thank the Maker. But I remember it and it was a lesson to me. I have bouts of assitude occasionally and I try to learn from them. I probably shouldn't write or talk about them anymore, lest the accumulation of history makes her realize that she's better off without that crap in her life.

So, life is good here. I hope this holiday season is all good on ya too.

Dellyce

I met Dellyce in my first year of college at Brigham Young University. At least, that is what I'm told. I find the details rather murky. I guess that is what age does to you. Still, I can't say I knew the moment even at the time. I just remember her being there. Looking back, she just was one of those constants during those years, always present, as if she belonged there. Of course, my dating her roommate had something to do with that. What followed that year was the building up of one of the most trusting relationships I've ever had. Through that year of double-dating, I got to know one of the most engaging women I have ever known.

Dellyce, at least as I knew her, was a quiet and reserved person. I say that as more of a contrast to myself. I had an extroverted humor and a quick tongue. I remember so well her looks toward me when I said something risque or a little off color and her muted chuckle. The knowing glances we shared told me a lot about her. She had a wicked sense of humor.

I want to write a little bit about the period when I spent the most time with Dellyce. It seems a bit egocentric considering that in order to write about what I know about a person, I have to make mention of what was going on in my life but I'm not sure how else to approach it. The year before my mission was one of the best of my life. I built friendships that I wanted to keep the rest of my life. George and Dellyce were some of the closest friends I had up to that point. I remember one moment in particular on a double date we had up to Temple Square to look at the lights. When looking at the Christus through the window from outside, I was overcome with gratitude for my friends, for school and how things were turning out with me. I am particularly driven by gratitude in my life and for the love of friends and in my thankfulness for being with such wonderful people, I committed to go on a mission.

The best year of my life (at least to that point) was followed by my worst. I relied on George and Dellyce for emotional support through it all. I felt so dependent upon the few people that I remained in contact with and I'm so happy that George and Dellyce were there for me.

After returning, I had limited contact with them because I was immersed in my schoolwork. I remember vaguely the times when my fiance, Tracy, and I visited them, probably for tacit approval of our relationship, as their opinion meant a lot to me. I attended their blessing of Richard. George also took our engagement photo and was there for our wedding, also taking our wedding pictures after the ceremony. For some reason, they tolerated my rambling and horrid humor for all those years.

After graduation, Tracy and I moved to Southern Utah and later to Phoenix. We made frequent trips back to Utah, always making sure we visited to renew our friendships. That tradition continued even after moving to Chicago and my trips back became less frequent. Often I or my family would visit and stay with them for a time. Dellyce was sometimes there, sometimes not as she was also out and about visiting her family.

One of the last times seeing Dellyce was during a visit where my life seemed to be falling apart for a lot of reasons. It was particularly raw because there were so many things I was trying to figure out and any guard I kept over my emotions was absent. If there were any two people I felt I could trust with almost anything, it was these two. It was a very emotional trip for me and they still didn't cut any ties with me afterward. I couldn't find two better people for me to meet and bond with so many years previous.

Earlier this year, George called and told me of Dellyce's illness and her decision to not seek treatment. Within an hour Tracy had me booked on a flight so I could go and say goodbye to my friend. Unfortunately, I didn't get the chance to tell her but I hope that she knew how much she was loved by Tracy and me.

I can't say I have any profound things more to say. I'll miss my friend. She saw me at my best and my worst. She tolerated my irreverent humor and her smile and laugh are permanently enshrined in my memory. Of the few people I would do anything in the world for, she was one of them.

I'll miss you Dellyce. Until we can get together and make fun of Utah again, I'll do what I can on my own. I'll also continue to pester George as much as I can.

To Those Intelligent, Beautiful Women that have Graced My Life

Having passed a particular milestone, seeing 50 years in the rear-view, I should probably pay homage to those women that have made my life richer and well, tolerable really. This list isn't exhaustive so if I forget or don't mention someone and they feel slighted, please understand that 50 years is a lot to hold in retrospect during a blog post.

My first confidant was my sister. All through High School, she is the one I told my secrets, challenges, and frustrations. I can't tell you how important she is to me.

Dating. Dating was a mess. I knew that I wanted a strong, deep relationship in my life but I knew during High School just how unprepared I was for it. My first date was taking a girl to Burger King and she kept looking at me like there was something wrong with me. When I called her, she was guarded. She probably didn't know what to do with this guy that just wanted to find out what she was about. Short lived non-romance. 

Serious dating wasn't all that much better as I entered college. The first girl I had a longer term relationship with was frustrating me and for the first time, I realized the social pressures involved with mutual friends and the larger circles of culture. It didn't end well.

Between my first and second years, I had several dates while at home away from Utah. I was just starting to become at ease with longer, deeper discussions with the women I went out with. While in Utah I found it hard to get a girl to notice me because I wasn't a "Returned Missionary" yet at home, girls wanted to go out with me because I did interesting things and I was smart and going to a good school. I was also getting rid of my awkwardness bit by bit. 

Then I dated the woman that would probably affect my life, or at least expectations, more than any other. She was real. I don't know if that makes any sense, but when you meet those real people, or at least become aware of them, it affects you. Smart, witty, sarcastic, independent, not afraid to speak her mind and let others know what her opinion was, she was someone that I envied and looked up to. Even if her frustrations were directed toward me, I took it as an opportunity to improve. 

As I started to become an emotional basket case as mission and school pressures started exerting themselves, I was still driven in trying to improve. Unfortunately, the mission drove me into a depression (which I didn't know what it was called until much later) that changed me into someone I hated and loathed. I crawled my way out of it determined to become a better person. While in one area, a girl befriended me and helped me understand myself to the point where I wanted to name my future daughter after her. She and her family provided a haven from my self-imposed prison. After so much rejection day after day, any bit of acceptance was so welcome.

I was a different person by the time I came back to BYU. I know I was more confident in myself and I knew that I was going to date like mad. I wanted to have some fun. I wanted to find someone that might understand me. Yes, school was the priority. I was in engineering. Dang right it took most of my time and effort. Still, I knew now the kind of person I was looking for.

I can't say that they were that easy to find. 

Almost immediately I fell into a relationship that I didn't want with someone I didn't respect and I knew it. Still, having real conversations, adult conversations, with the women around me let me know that I needed someone else. Right off I relearned again that breakups can be messy. More so when the women were older and knew the buttons to push. 

I worked at the stadium that summer and fall and I worked with a woman, an engaged woman, that had such a wit and quick mind that I swear I was staring in awe of her most of the time. The fact that I could hold a conversation with such a person was a marvel in itself. I mean, I knew that intelligence, and not just emotional intelligence, was attractive to me but I didn't realize how strong it was. I never attempted to do anything untoward with this woman, but it just reinforced how much I needed this kind of person around me. I had no ego in that I needed to be smarter than the women I dated. I felt very comfortable with the idea that some of the women I might date were smarter than me. 

I changed who I was dating at the time. If I didn't feel that spark, that chemistry right off, I didn't date that person long. I was trying to find that someone and I wasn't wasting much time. One of my roommates once commented when he saw me with a girl, "Which one is this?" 

Dating Tracy was different. I had two semesters of German with her so I knew a bit about her before I ever asked her out, and that chemistry was there, at least for me. Still, I've been in more one-sided relationships before and this was quickly taking that route. After a few dates, and even though I was crazy about her, I wasn't getting any response from her. I wasn't angry, I was frustrated. But, and this is major for me, I had enough respect for myself that I wasn't going to waste my energies with someone that clearly didn't want to be with me. I was still dating others that wanted to be with me, nerd that I was.

And then Tracy's mother talked to her. Next thing I know, I'm spending all my available time with this clever, wonderful woman (Tracy), the one that wasn't interested previously. Twitterpation merged more with a comfort than I ever felt before. Not saying that I wasn't still awkward and clumsy, but as we spent time with each other, we fell more into a rhythm. I guess that's how it goes.

I've always found it easier for me to talk to women, and that really didn't change much over the years. As Tracy and I lived on, we wanted to have a family. We adopted Hayden. When we felt that there was room in our home and hearts, we tried to adopt again. That was an expensive and laborious process as we wanted to adopt internationally, to help those in dire straights. During this period I spent a good deal of time getting to know a woman I worked with that was from Bolivia. She lived an interesting life and I felt honored to be her friend and make her laugh once in a while. When my church was going to stop the adoption program we entered, I didn't know what to do. Tracy had called and told me and I was beside myself. I walked the quarter mile from my side of the building to where she sat and I promptly lost any and all composure. I was weeping in her cube and she realized that I was in no mood to drive. She drove me home, with a stop along the way where we talked some more, and I cried some more. I can't thank her enough for that afternoon that she spent with me, trying to recover enough to function.

Then came Facebook as well as some pretty in-depth reading of philosophy in religion and things started to become uneasy. I connected with people that I didn't think I would reconnect with in my lifetime. I was coming more empathetic in my outlook and questioning events and decisions in my life. I went up to Wisconsin to talk to a woman I've known, loved and respected from my college days. I didn't have an agenda but I did want to talk about my life before I met her because I was becoming brave enough to talk about it and I wanted someone to hear me, if nothing else.

Shortly thereafter, my life came crashing down all at once, or so it seemed. I know it took time, but it felt as though everything changed so quickly. My beliefs left me. I needed to recontextualize my life. While I learned to open up with Tracy, our marriage became strained and I wondered if she would still love me and respect me as I felt like I became a different person than the one she married. Hours and days and months of talking and re-examining our relationship followed. I don't think I ever appreciated her more as we worked things out and recentered on each other.

During all of this, I found friendship and support from a woman at work with just talking about things as we walked around the building. A woman in Wyoming and I spent time talking about relationships and books and helped me cope with long-buried feelings. A woman in Oregon helped me by letting me write, letting the narration in my head have an outlet.

I also couldn't leave this period without giving my thanks to a woman I attended High-School with but never really spoke during that time. Talking to her about our mutual friends and our different lives helped me find myself and discover the person I have become. I cannot thank her enough for the support and time spent talking about our lives and goals.

Lately, I haven't had any existential dreads in my life, but I do want to mention another woman that I worked with briefly, but we chat often. She helped me rediscover my love of learning and she tolerates my age-addled mind. She was born the year I left on my mission so there is quite an age difference, on top of the numerous cultural differences, our having been raised on the other sides of the planet from each other. Still, she helped provide the impetus to get me back to the screens to learn new ways of doing things.

I don't know where I would be without these wonderful people in my life, and I hope I can still learn from them to become a better person than I am now.

Probably Didn't Count On That

I was just thinking about expectations. We all have them. I considered some of the expectations of my own life. Sometimes things don't meet expectations though. This is when I thought about what my parents might have expected. The church I used to attend gives people a lot of expectations. You see, because if you don't meet their expectations, you don't get to have your family in eternity. And if you personally don't meet their expectations, you don't get to go either.

Did my parents raise good kids? Yes. Well, eventually. Maybe they moved around a bit in the morality of their youth, but they are good people. Still, in a religion where the family is paramount, two of their kids don't have their own families, at least in the 1950's definition. My brother never married. My sister is a lesbian and is married to her partner. Me? Well, I married. No kids for awhile, at least until we adopted. So we have an african-american son and two hispanic children. We do have a naturally occurring child between us too. But in the past few years we had a "faith-crisis" or what may be properly called a "truth-crisis" and we left the religion that we grew up with.

So, did my parents get their expectations? Maybe not. I can't speak for them. However, we are a different bunch. Are we still good kids? Yes. Darn good kids if I may be so bold. My parents have a wonderful family. Do they consider us good kids? I don't know. I know by the standards of my former religion, I'm a miserable apostate, not to be trusted. My sister is partly responsible for the downfall of society, and my brother is, at best, available to the lower parts of heaven because he never married.

The damage in this is because my religion has taught each of us that we are "less than", my parents and absolutely my former church considers us "less than". I have felt that way for most of my adult life. No more. We are flawed people, but we are also somewhere high in the Awesome Scale.

For a bit more of this and how it affects people and our happiness, I offer this video from Thinker of Thoughts and Stuff.

Someone says...

Someone says "I am depressed" and our first instinct is to regale the goodness of their life, how 'not sad' it is.

A woman whispers "I am afraid of him" and we throw our bodies into recounting the times in which he looked so gentle, so smooth, no hard edges at all.

A person braves their own identity--tells this frugal world they have no gender, no box to check, and the world spits back dispute. "Impossible," we say, "your experience of yourself is not enough to convince us you exist."

A football player kneels quietly during a song and the crowd goes wild. Three fists are raised during the same song and the crowd bursts into flames. A father is shot with two silent hands in the air and the crowd turns into stone.

I don't need to watch the video. Fuck the debate. Hundreds of thousands of Americans tell us "I am afraid and I feel unsafe because of the color of my skin" and we have the audacity to debate it. "But was he a good man? How many priors did he have? How many children? And with how many different women? Tell us *how* scared. Is it daily? Can you sleep? Are you shaking? Can you go to work? Good. Go to work and be grateful! We've come so far! It's just one bad apple."

Does it sounds too cliche to say the orchard was built on mass graves? That we refuse to see the roots from up here? What metaphor will make this more palatable? Someone tells us their truth and we turn the record over, replace the needle. Repeat the refrain:

Personal accounts by people of color of daily encounters with racism (from subtle micro-aggressions to state-sanctioned violence) are not enough to convince white America that this problem still exists. And that, I am afraid, is proof that humanity is a choice. #blacklivesmatter #terrencecrutcher

P.S. If you're white (like me) and you're tired of these hashtags, imagine being tired of a body count. What a privilege it is to be annoyed by a pound sign and a name. If you think now is the time for a compassionate and righteous "all lives matter" retort, your attempt to unify humanity does the opposite.

EDIT: I want to add two things. First, I wrote this directly after listening to Danez Smith recite excerpts from "summer, somewhere." Go. Read. Listen. (www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poems/detail/58645)

Second, I want to address something Najah Amatullah Hylton rightfully pointed out when sharing this status: this is "a white person say[ing] it nicely." I am a poet. I am white person who is good with words. I can make ugly things sound pretty. Wrap them up with a shiny ribbon. I am not brave for this articulation. At most, I am risking a few arguments on Facebook with strangers, not my life. Let's examine what package we chose to receive the truth in.

~Sierra DeMulder

The Day You Read This

The Day You Read This

On this day, you read something that moved you and made you realise there were no more fears to fear. No tears to cry. No head to hang in shame. That every time you thought you’d offended someone, it was all just in your head and really, they love you with all their heart and nothing will ever change that. That everyone and everything lives on inside you. That that doesn’t make any of it any less real. 

That soft touches will change you and stay with you longer than hard ones. 

That being alone means you’re free. That old lovers miss you and new lovers want you and the one you’re with is the one you’re meant to be with. That the tingles running down your arms are angel feathers and they whisper in your ear, constantly, if you choose to hear them. That everything you want to happen, will happen, if you decide you want it enough. That every time you think a sad thought, you can think a happy one instead. 

That you control that completely. 

That the people who make you laugh are more beautiful than beautiful people. That you laugh more than you cry. That crying is good for you. That the people you hate wish you would stop and you do too. 

That your friends are reflections of the best parts of you. That you are more than the sum total of the things you know and how you react to them. That dancing is sometimes more important than listening to the music. 

That the most embarrassing, awkward moments of your life are only remembered by you and no one else. That no one judges you when you walk into a room and all they really want to know, is if you’re judging them. That what you make and what you do with your time is more important than you’ll ever fathom and should be treated as such. That the difference between a job and art is passion. That neither defines who you are. That talking to strangers is how you make friends. 

That bad days end but a smile can go around the world. That life contradicts itself, constantly. That that’s why it’s worth living. 

That the difference between pain and love is time. That love is only as real as you want it to be. That if you feel good, you look good but it doesn’t always work the other way around. 

That the sun will rise each day and it’s up to you each day if you match it. That nothing matters up until this point. That what you decide now, in this moment, will change the future. Forever. That rain is beautiful.

And so are you.

~PleaseFindThis, "I Wrote This For You"

I was doing some quote seeking a few years back and I stumbled upon this author. I bought the book and I was so impressed by the feelings expressed in the pages. It's a good read. This was just the latest that I found and I wanted to share it with those that might be interested. I wish I was so adept at the language to write things like this.

These Are What We Stay Alive For

My Last Opinion on the Matter

Sadly, I think this is the situation.

One of the political opinions I've changed recently is about gun control. Some of that is from experience. I live in a place that some call the most violent place in America, but statistically, it is more violent out West. Chicagoland is somewhere in the middle of the pack. We just get on the news as we are a bit more concentrated than other metropolises. Anyway, I purchased and obtained a few guns recently. It shocked me how easy it was. I got my card from the State to show I wasn't a felon and within 3 days, I could have legally obtained any gun I wanted, aside from those already controlled. I was only slightly more inconvenienced when I purchased Pseudofed from the pharmacy. Here in my hand was a device whose only purpose is to project violence at a distance. It serves no other purpose. Do you know how much training it took to get one. None. Not a single minute. I had a gun that, to quote Dirty Harry, could "blow your head clean off" and no one cared who I was or what my intentions were.

I'm not afraid of guns. I grew up around them and some in my family have many, many guns. I know that they can be useful in varmint eradication. I'm somewhat amused by being in the country and thinking "guns, meh." to living in the city thinking "guns, What the hell do you need that for? Do you know how many kids are killed by those things?"

I don't know what the solution is to our mass-shooting problems. NIU, in the "next town over" from where I live, where Tracy received her Masters Degree, had its own shooting. I do know that doing nothing isn't working. I don't want to confiscate peoples' guns and I'm tired that so many people flee to that extreme in the arguments. I don't believe the guv'ment is out to get us and I think, as a country, we all need some serious civics lessons. I still have hope in mankind generally even though I'm a bit of a fatalist.

I found the following comment on Vox's article and I really like it. With it, I'll be done and try not to engage in any more arguments. I lose hope in humanity so easily now, that we can't get along, compromise, and lack so much empathy. Perhaps I need some of that myself. Still. it is what it is.

Gillian Mc Allister: Terrorism in any name is still terrorism. What we have to look at is the mechanism of how it happened. And, repeatedly it comes down to guns in the hands of the wrong people. We have 50 states worth of gun control laws from somewhat strict to meaningless. They all have failed us repeatedly. The problem must be addressed on a national level to have teeth and the ability to follow up and be effective across state lines. We cannot continue to bury our heads in the sand and hope that it will get better with more publicity. But it hasn't and that is blatantly apparent. Federal Laws that must address all the issues and have cross reference teeth to back it up with repercussions before more innocents die for the sake of the NRA and their toadies. The right to own a gun must be second to the right to live. Here is a framework of how to frame the laws and give it teeth to punish those who disregard the right to life of ourselves and our children:

1. Require background checks at all sales locations – not just at stores but at gun shows, in gun show parking lots, private sales, etc.

2. Require obligatory reporting of all gun sales including private sales with legal/criminal repercussions for failing to do so.

3. Require licensing with safety training & testing required with mandatory liability insurance for each gun with yearly renewals - just like driving licenses.

4. Loss of those licenses and privileges for serious infractions - having your guns taken away if you are found liable for "careless use" such as leaving loaded weapons around for children to pick up - unfortunately it may be after the fact such as in the cases where young children have killed other children or parents accidentally but at least it is a step in the right direction, or if you are found to be a "straw purchaser" buying for someone else who would not have passed the criteria for obtaining a license.

5. Make parents or the gun owner liable for children or others getting their hands on the owned guns and shooting someone. It is the responsibility of the gun owner to make sure his/her guns are secure.

6. Require presentation of both the license and liability insurance for the purchase of both guns and ammo.

7. Maintain a national registration data base on all gun and ammo purchases with the ability to investigate unusual or large purchases through designed algorithms to catch outliers and to be able to trace confiscated guns to their original owners so as to track how they got into the hands of criminal or terrorists. This goes along with the next item.

8. Require mandatory reporting of all stolen guns within 24 hours with legal/criminal repercussions for failing to do so.

9. Confiscate weapons of all those convicted of domestic violence or felonies and not permitting licensing for them in the future.

10. No conceal carry or open carry unless there is a definitive and crucial reason demonstrating that the person is under high risk due to their job but then only with the proper training, certification, licensing and insurance.

11. Require mental health background checks in order to obtain a license to purchase as suicide and homicide rates jump dramatically when there are guns available within a household. Require a medical doctor’s certification, understanding that people can recover from some mental disorders, as to the viable safety or not of an applicant.

12. Trigger locks required on all guns when not in legal use with civil/criminal repercussions for failure to do so. Seriously consider “finger print” locks for future manufacturing standards – at least it will prevent anyone but the licensed purchaser from shooting the gun and all those toddler accidental shootings and render stolen guns useless.

13. Ban on all assault and automatic guns. The only purpose of an assault weapon is to kill people. They are not legal for hunting nor appropriate for any type of target shooting. These should be reserved for the military and SWAT Teams only.

14. Create a Federal “buy back” program as an incentive to reduce the physical number of guns already out there. Yes, it is voluntary but it is a beginning and had a very successful effect in Australia.

These are reasonable and realistic parameters that we should fight for. I'm not talking about taking guns away across the board but rather licensing them and making sure of education, responsibility and insurance - just like cars.

The right to own a gun should not come at the expense of the safety of other citizens going about their daily activities.

Yes, there are plenty of safety conscious and responsible gun owners and these suggestions would not affect their ability to continue to do so but these laws would provide a level of safety for the rest of our citizens that does not exist today against those who are not responsible.

Yes, guns don't kill per se, just like automobiles don't kill all by themselves, but PEOPLE with guns do, just like bad driver's or drunk drivers, or driver's with road rage. And the mass killing that we have seen is just that - anger and rage out of control with a deadly weapon in their hands. That's what we have to address. And, yes, it will be difficult but we have to take the step to protect each other from this kind of travesty.

If you complain but do nothing – stop complaining. Otherwise become active, write letters to your congressmen and representatives at both the state and federal level. Let them know how strongly you feel about this and keep telling them. Be proactive in getting others involved before more innocent lives are lost. REMEMBER, with the current rash of catastrophes and inflamed public opinion we do have a chance at the voting booths. We tell our candidates that we will not vote for them unless they are willing to endorse strong gun safety laws. 

WE CAN MAKE A DIFFERENCE – BUT WE MUST TAKE ACTION AND VOTE WISELY

HOW MANY MORE HAVE TO DIE BEFORE WE START CREATING AND ENFORCING STRONG GUN CONTROL LAWS?????????  WOULD IT CHANGE IF IT WAS YOUR SON OR DAUGHTER - YOUR SISTER OR BROTHER - YOUR MOTHER OR FATHER?  THEN WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR????????

For your viewing pleasure, I still find this useful, even though it was a comedy routine.




Some other links:
john-oliver-australia-guns
I_bought_an_AR-15_semi-automatic_rifle_in_Philly_in_7_minutes
Upworthy from last year

Real or Not Real

In the last of the Hunger Games books, Peeta, after enduring brainwashing and trying to recover, frequently asks a particular question about a memory or a feeling, "Real or not real?" I thought that was a very simple question and recently had to use it for some fairly fundamental parts of my life. I've gone over a lot of that before. Perhaps I should talk about other aspects of that question.

Aside from looking at my faith, my beliefs and holding them to a non-subjective standard and asking "Real or Not Real", I've had to do that with my other relationships other than the one relationship with an institution. Sometimes it is as simple as the book where Peeta asks Katniss if she loves him. Sometimes it has gotten deeper, as such relationships should and a follow-up of "What does it mean?" is in order. A lot of people claim to love each other, but what does it really mean? Are there some limitations? What is it that love means to you? Where does passion fit in? What are you willing to accept politically, emotionally, etc. to stay in love with me? I know that these might seem to be dry questions, but considering my history, these are questions that I've asked. I have been very, very wrong about some things in my life with some things still persisting. I'm very emotional and letting go of things on that level, with me, have been extremely hard. It was a part of me that I have been reluctant to share.

Friendships

Recently, I've had to crank up the "intimacy" of some of my friendships. In my search for meaning and for more meaningful relationships, I have opened up myself to a few friends. Some haven't taken it well. Some didn't want that level of knowledge of me or of my struggles. I think it cost me a few of them. Mostly it was along the lines of "I'm hurt, and I don't know what to do with it." or "I have questions about my life and my decisions and I haven't dealt with them too well." Even in my current state when I look in the psychological rear-view and mutter, "My God, I survived that." some may take as an arrogant pronouncement. It isn't like I have the secret to life. I certainly don't want to come off as insufferable because of the fact that I endured my own challenges and therefore, I know all.

To be clear on the matter. I still don't "get it". Life is just as confusing and frustrating as it ever was. I have made my peace with that though. I no longer feel like I have to wrestle with every bull that charges my way. I'm more content to watch it pass by, to let someone else that knows differently, better or is just delusional have at the contest. Perhaps passivity isn't all that attractive, but I'm much happier now.

With this newfound peace and shedding of my former restraints, my circle of friends has also expanded. The anti-social person that I once was has drifted off and has been replaced with someone more outgoing. That doesn't mean I still don't find a great deal of comfort being alone, but people are generally wonderful critters too. My former faith taught me to not have friends of the opposite sex or become too close with them. Well, why would I want to limit my contact with half the population of the world in fear that adultery would break out? Really, have you looked at me recently? I don't consider that a real risk and besides, I get along with women better. I have more interest in the things women seem to have more interest in. If nothing else, they provide me a different perspective and outlook on life than I have. I still need someone to tell me that I'm a jerk when I'm being a jerk. This did put a little stress in my relationship with Tracy. Here I was having conversations with women around the country (and world) and talking about a lot of personal things. You know what though? I'm an adult. I want friends and I want to talk about things. The good thing is that she also shed her restraints. She had rejected friendships with men for the same reasons and now she felt free to pursue those friendships. We both can be better people and stay committed to each other. Or not. You know why? Because we are adults and adults can reason and make decisions about their lives.

Marriage

So we, Tracy and I, hold up our relationship with each other and ask the question "Real or not real". This is the relationship that consumes most of our lives and yet most of us are afraid to ask that question. Even if this question is asked, it can have consequences. I've had those painful conversations. I know that I've hurt Tracy with that introspection. Still, I don't know how to change things without being honest. I've hidden too much in my life and I tired of it. Did I state my frustrations and just walk away? No. I worked on them. I tried new things, tried to think differently or tried to resolve my conflict. I worked with her on what I could. I know it might seem selfish but I've had to ask myself if I was happy. Living an unhappy life isn't doing anyone any favors. If whatever isn't being fulfilled is hampering any sense of contentment, all I'm doing is living a miserable life. So, am I happy? And that is a question that I don't feel restrained in asking Tracy. She needs to be happy too. If I'm not doing what I need to do for her, then what can I do to change because it might be an issue bothering me too.

Unfortunately, I've had many friends look at their own marriages, ask the question "Real or not real" and it has come up wanting. For whatever reason, they've decided that they are better off without that person. I understand that, and I respect their decisions. Many of the people that were raised in the same culture I was raised in were married young with little to no life experience. Sometimes choices were made which the other partner couldn't abide. Sometimes change was found to be impossible. Sometimes empathy was lacking. Sometimes it was a decision that just had to be made. I get that. No one should have to be in a relationship that they don't want to be in. Yes, sometimes there are obligations that have to be met, but generally, don't be somewhere that you don't want to be or is causing you pain.

"Real or not real" I think is a great way to look at look at these introspective moments, and honestly one of the best things to be gleaned out of the Hunger Games books. I think it can change our lives.

Here are a few of the Reality quotes that I like.

“Reality is that which, when you stop believing in it, doesn't go away.”
-- Philip K. Dick

"Let go of what you know and honor what exists."
-- David Bazan

The Bleeding of Me

The thorns which I have reap'd are of the tree I planted; they have torn me, and I bleed.

I should have known what fruit would spring from such a seed.

~Lord Byron~

This is a travelogue of sorts, so I don't want to bore you if you'd rather read some funny or lighter reading. You see, I took a motorcycle ride last Monday, Memorial Day. I've written in the past about how I use my trips to exorcise the demons from my life. I do a lot of thinking and watching of life moving past me. I am way too introspective. Now I'm no longer ashamed to say that I spent a lot of time crying on those trips. It wasn't self-pity. It wasn't mourning of things that didn't happen. My life is pretty good, but I've been living with a lot of cognitive dissonance much of my life. It is from my need to make sense of things, to justify my life, my thoughts, and beliefs.

I grew up devoted to my faith. I converted at a time when I needed and wanted my parents' trust. I needed to change my life. I found a place that was new and exciting and a social environment that I enjoyed. Going to a church school was fantastic. I loved learning and aside from that first year where I had a bad group of teachers, I did well. I made friends that I have to this day. When I encountered things that I didn't agree with, I pushed them down because my faith, at that time, translated to the wonderful people around me. It didn't matter, I wanted to be with these people.

Mission. I've written about it before. No need to rehash. I still marvel at how much psychological damage it did to me. I wish I could yell back in time to the person I was and get him to listen to me, but it is what it is. Understanding it helps, but I still experience quick flashes of frustration and anger and I probably will the rest of my life.

Until my faith was shaken and all the frustrations of the previous 30 years broke the shelf, I didn't realize, truly realize, the burden I carried. The introspection became worse, the crying more frequent. I've hinted and expressed all of this in my previous posts. It wasn't trivial and it shouldn't be trivialized. I was passing though that "mid-life crisis" where I wanted to know and direct where my life was going. I put up my beliefs and relationships for inspection trying to figure out what was real and what wasn't.

So here I am. Sometime last October things started falling more into place, settling in, and my mind was less troubled. I've left my previous faith and am finding that my life is better now. No longer do I have that need to make sense, argue, or have that internal struggle that I've lived with for so long. These past months have been wonderful in that regard. I once again have that emotional energy to devote towards my career and learning. I'm reading a bit more, finally. Things have settled in and I'm comfortable with who I am.

So what does this have to do with a travelogue? Did I merely use it as a vehicle to once again state how superior I am to others? No. I said it was a travelogue because that part is coming. My main realization of that trip is that my mind was mostly blank during the journey. I didn't have any demons to purge. I didn't have emotional weight to shed because I've shifted them to other parts of my life. My relationships are starting to fill out again and I'm truly in a different place. Now, I can't say it is my final place as I've mistakenly declared that before. This trip though...this trip told me something, by not telling me anything.

Yeah, this is from the Hennepin Canal. I debated going to the Mississippi at various stages of the route, but I settled for the Illinois River area instead. Last year I biked this thing.

This time, I decided to take a closer look at the power plant that I've seen across the river from De Pue. So, I went south on IL-26 and crossed the river. It was comforting to see the barges and boats on the river. I've decided that I like river life, but aside from a few miles from the Fox, I probably won't live closer to one. This plant was one that Tracy and I saw on one of our first road trips in Illinois. It was big and shiny at the time and I made a mental note about it in case the job at Motorola died off to come down here and try this place. Now it is shuttered up and I have no idea what they used to do there. It really is a huge building. Note the odd looking water tower to the right.

A little further down the road was this beauty. I think it is an ethanol plant. Lots and lots of train cars around the place. (I really like industrial sites. The engineer in me just drools over them.)

The park in Henry and a view of the Illinois River and the bridge over it. My motorcycle is on the left. I didn't stay long. No thoughts to contemplate. However, on the way home, I did started to think about going to play some frisbee golf with the kids and then remembered that it would probably mess up my right arm again as it hasn't really healed from shoveling after the ice storm we had in January.


The title of this post I took from the lyrics of "Bleeding Me" by Metallica. For me, it is almost the perfect song. It gives voice to the feelings I've had for so long, but didn't realize all the damage it was doing to me.

Bleeding Me

I'm diggin' my way
I'm diggin' my way to something
I'm diggin' my way to somethin' better

I'm pushin' to stay
I'm pushin' to stay with something
I'm pushin' to stay with something better

I'm sowing the seeds
I'm sowing the seeds I've taken
I'm sowing the seeds I take for granted

This thorn in my side
This thorn in my side is from the tree
This thorn in my side is from the tree I've planted

It tears me and I bleed
And I bleed

Caught under wheel's roll
I take the leech I'm bleeding me
Can't stop to save my soul
I take the leash that's leading me
I'm bleeding me
I can't take it
Caught under wheel's roll
The bleeding of me
Of me
The bleeding of me

Caught under wheel's roll
I take the leech I'm bleeding me
Can't stop to save my soul
I take the leash that's leading me
I'm bleeding me
I can't take it
Caught under wheel's roll
The bleeding of me
The bleeding of me

I am the beast that feeds the feast
I am the blood, I am release
Come make me pure
Bleed me a cure
I'm caught, I'm caught, I'm caught under

Caught under wheel's roll
I take thay leech I'm bleeding me
Can't stop to save my soul
I take the leash that's leading me
I'm bleeding me
I can't take it, I can't take it, I can't take it
The bleeding of me

Come on
Bleed me

I'm digging my way
I'm digging my way to something
I'm digging my way to something better

I'm pushing to stay
I'm pushing to stay with something
I'm pushing to stay with something better

With something better

Obama Nonsense

Tyler Glenn - Trash

This is a completely unplanned post. Mostly I wanted to save the articles.

Tyler Glenn put out a video today called Trash. In it, he takes several, shall I say, blasphemous actions. I won't get into the details. I did want to point out a few good blog posts about it.

A quick blurb from Zelph on the Shelf. (always a good blog)

From a faithful mormon who gets it, or makes a very good attempt.

Mostly, I wanted to save a comment on the above link. I thought it was well written.

-Brian Shirts
I find it interesting you separate anger and pain like it's two different things that don't coexist. The other thing that gets me is that it seems you don't understand the anger and pain. Hopefully, I can help you out a little on that understanding.

If you could, take a moment and ponder how you would feel if something so big and true came out where you couldn't help but deny your faith. Something so big that it couldn't be argued and the church couldn't defend itself. Think of how you would feel knowing your whole life has been built on a lie. Something you put all you heart and belief in. Something you have worked tirelessly within, that you promote and defend with every once of your heart. Think of how you would feel knowing all that you have worked for, believed in, and the belief in the promise of the future was all a lie.

Would you not be really hurt? Would you also not be extremely angry? So many in your religion are so scared to learn anything about their religion outside of the church regardless of how truthful the information is that would expose some lies. They quickly ignore it and quickly deem it to be false and/or an attempt to destroy the church when some of it is just history. Why do you think that is? No one wants something they love so dearly and work so much for to be a lie. It's like being madly in love to someone for 20+ years, where you have a family, a house, memories, and a plan for the future. You are ready to be with them for the rest of your life but then you find out they have been lying to you the whole time. That they never loved you, that they have been dating other people, involved in things you always opposed, and just used you. You would be crushed, and you would be angry. Not only to that person but yourself.

Yes, there are a lot of exmormons that are angry and in pain. They will attack and fight the church. If you saw the person you loved that lied all those years with someone else, would you not want to warn that other person to get out of there? Would you not want to expose the person that lied to you so others don't have to feel what you felt, or to deal with the lie before it grows and they invest more? These people are very hurt. Really look at the psychology. I was a convert and left so it was a bit easier for me to deal with the lie and I'm still a little hurt and angry.

I don't have any desire to destroy the church but I would like everyone in that church to know everything about their history and the operations of the church. I believe they all deserve the truth and they can choose whether to stay or go. They just need to know.

What I find odd is how many people don't even read the essays the church has published on their official site where they are openly admitting they have lied and taught people incorrectly on the history. It's not like this stuff was just discovered. They have known this stuff for a very long time and have willingly suppressed the information till now. It makes sense to start trying to release it because the information can be controlled now with us being in the Information Age and anyone can find truth much easily than before. They can find it and back it up with evidence, references and so on.

The thing that gets me talking to my Mormon friends is their view on exmormons and this idea that they always never truly believed or weren't very strong in faith, dedication, and so on. The idea the anger is based on some evil aspect that has always been there or they allowed to be there by not being faithful enough. That couldn't be further from the truth. Too many members don't take time to really consider how they would feel if they found out their religion isn't true. If you really want to bridge the exmormons and the Mormons, you have to take time to understand why the exmormons feel and do the things they do. After that, you have to fight for them and share that feeling to other Mormons.

If the truth never has anything to hide and is always going to prevail of falsity, why tell your members to run from anything negative or opposite to what they teach? Why excommunicate those that ask questions? Why run from those that challenge the beliefs? If truth will always prevail when challenged why are the leaders so hell bent on their members not questioning, or challenging their faiths and encouraging them to only listen them and nothing else? Blind following is dangerous and telling people to do so is what people do when they have something to hide.

27 Years

27 Years ago Tracy and I were married. I don't understand why she's put up with me all these years.

Back when we were dating I used to leave her notes with song lyrics because that was the only poetry I knew and with how intense my life was at the time, it was all I had time to experience. I might as well keep that tradition going.

The Book of Love 

(Performed by Peter Gabriel)

The book of love is long and boring

No one can lift the damn thing

It's full of charts and facts, some figures and instructions for dancing

But I,

I love it when you read to me.

And you,

You can read me anything.

The book of love has music in it,

In fact, that's where music comes from.

Some of it is just transcendental,

Some of it is just really dumb.

But I,

I love it when you sing to me.

And you,

You can sing me anything.

The book of love is long and boring,

And written very long ago.

It's full of flowers and heart-shaped boxes,

And things we're all too young to know.

But I,

I love it when you give me things.

And you,

You ought to give me wedding rings.

And I,

I love it when you give me things.

And you,

You ought to give me wedding rings.

You ought to give me wedding rings.