Groundhog Day and the Elementary School Epic.

Image Credit: Michael Ochs Archives/Getty Images

Over the most recent Christmas break I watched the movie Groundhog Day with (a very disheveled) Bill Murray. As most of you know, the main character in the movie gets stuck in a time loop and repeats the same day perhaps thousands of times. (Or at least enough to become a proficient jazz pianist). I literally learned who Sonny and Cher were from this movie. (Random trivia fact: Sonny Bono became a US Congressman in 1994.)

I started to think about what would happen if I got to "Groundhog" some days. I know there would be a few that could do for repeating.

• That day in Ms. Croffer's Spanish class. Quinci's binder was a complete loss.

• That day in the wrestling room.

• That time Christine Rambis used my phone to text the first girl in my contacts and ask her on a date. It was a girl I home taught. That was awkward.  

These were days that, given a chance to repeat, I could own hardcore (I am working on using some Stuart Scott style verbiage here, in honor of his recent passing). It probably would not even take me a 1000 attempts to get it right. I could take the wrestling room right now in a single swipe.

There also are a few days that I would not want to repeat. November 10, 1997 (A Monday) is one of them. I have no idea what happened that day, but why take a chance on the unknown? That could be the day in 4th grade when I had to write my name in the "bad book" because Sharon Miller threw my eraser in the teacher's purse and I tried to retrieve it. I was very rogue in elementary school. I once choke slammed a kid while wearing a Clifford the Big Red Dog sweat suit. That was in kindergarten. But he got my sweat suit dirty. Of course, I do not need to Groundhog that day, since I gave Tyson Bianderos his due on the first try. Sometimes you get it right in a single attempt. If you are familiar with putative discipline systems or the Witch Watch Consortium, I had to pull down to purple bear for the choke slam. 

Another day I do not need to Groundhog also comes from my days in elementary school. A few of you are married to people from this story. It was toward the end of the year of 6th grade and we had a substitute teacher name Ms. Spiker. This is not a code name--I am pretty sure that was her actual name. Anyway, when I was explaining the English assignment to a classmate, Spiker sent me to the office for "talking too much." But I was not stupid. I knew that she would have no idea if I actually went to the office. She was too busy eating my teacher's croutons straight from the box (Not a joke. She also stole a sandwich from the lunchroom and sat with the 2nd graders). Instead, I hid in the 6th grade bathroom until a "good behavior party" started in the gym (The irony).* I had to cover about a two hour gap, which could have proved lethal in those bathrooms. 

However, about 20 minutes into the hideout, one of my classmates came to use the bathroom and saw me. He thought it was pretty cool that I had not actually  gone to the office. Slowly word spread through my whole class that I was in the bathroom hiding. I had about 15 visitors that day. Some of them were girls. They would stand outside the bathroom and whistle, which was the signal that I was to emerge. It was an epic rebellion. I guess that between kindergarten and 6th grade I had changed from violent crime to infractions of a more perjurious nature. At college about 10 years later, I met one of my girl visitors from that day and she still remembered (unprompted) the time I hid in the bathroom. The event had become legendary for her. And it only took me one attempt.

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*This was a Friday and if we had been good during the week, we got to go to a rewards party.

A follow-up on Qualitative vs. Quantitative

As the last post on this topic was rather long and bombastic, I will make this one shorter and less troubling.

In thinking more about qualitative results and quantitative results, I remembered a story. This is the story. It is about the "dative paradigm."

Many moons ago, before The Beast got hitched and I traveled nigh unto a week to view it, I lived in a ward. I was younger then, but the sun still rose in the east and set in the west. 'Twas a simpler time. There was a decree in the land (meaning throughout The Hood) that each man was to go on a date each week for as long as we were incarcerated in the Hood. Well, if that was not a cat hair in the Kool Aid. Nevertheless, we all sought to realize the promised destiny of marriage by 22 years of age (This was their claim). All we had to do was go on a few dates a week.

Brother Pickle was excited. Now his daughter could marry the most handsome boy in the ward. (Sorry, I had to say that). Thankfully, I was only the second most handsome lad in the land and got out of that one. But I did go to great lengths (Okay, that is a major exaggeration) to hit the quota.

After just a few hours of thinking, I came up with some master plans (now picture a Grinch grin). Some of you may remember the "Loophole, Loophole" dance. It was like I had won a golden ticket AND Grandpa Joe won Who Wants to Be a Millionaire back when Regis still hosted.

I realized that the powers that be never said that I had to actually go on these dates with anyone. So yes, about a half of my quota was obtained by dates in the library sitting at a carrel doing Math 334 homework or something. (Cue the music for why I am still unmarried. That or I am single because I am addicted to video games, since I guess that all single men are addicted to video games. Or so they tell me. But I digress.)

Now some may say that doing homework in the library for a date is unholy before the elders of the town council and that this was not a date. But au contraire! The Three P's were satisfied as follows:
1. Planned. Yep. I planned on being in that carrel at that time.
2. Paid for. Did you think I stole my textbook? Of course it was paid for.
3. Paired off. Me and Boyce DiPrima (The textbook's author). No one else was even remotely going to approach us. (Cue Tommy James and the Shondells)

But then I realized I could mix up my methods. Physics 123 and Miss Lorde? (Paired off. I made sure that strange kid with the MacBook knew that I was on a date with this girl, not him, by raising my left eyebrow if he even dared look in our direction). Thrice was that class 50 minutes of glorious, quota reaching datingness with our lass Miss Lorde. If you count the 4 minutes that I sat next to her before class and the 1 minute after class that I sat and waited for the kid next to me to pack his iClicker, along with the 5 minutes I spent planning (there was no paying), it reached the minimum time stipulations of one hour! We spoke with each other upon occasion: "Did he say that the answer was C?" "Is that a rho or a upsilon?" (which look nothing alike of course).

Keep in mind that saying two sentences to this girl was actually pretty good for me. I have been on dates before where the only thing we said to each other was "Is that an eggplant?" (That was a long hour, but yes, the quota is also filled by speaking of purple fruits used in moussaka, a dish originating with the Ottomans).

I actually saw Miss Lorde not too long ago in the BYU alumni magazine. She looked quite good as it turns out, so I guess all's well that ends well. And glory hallelujah that she helped me reach quota when I needed to settle my tithing or get a temple recommend.

Trees: A Different Kind of Post.

This past summer, as I was pondering upon the "haves" and the "have nots" (whoever they can be defined to be), I came across the poem below. It speaks for itself I think. This was at a time where I felt a bit disenchanted with a one Mr. Ginobili, a "have" that turned out to be far less than what I had at one time envisioned (A one sentence explanation for several years of work nullified). This concept of small versus large, "haves" versus "have nots" is captured pretty well in the poem below. 

The vaunted oak,

From FreeFoto.com

Must stand as I.
Upon the ground,
Beneath the sky.

The birch and beech,
The same must do.
Roots in terra,
Still bind them too.

Yet I can fly,
To further height,
Than redwoods reach,
In flora’s flight.

Do trees pay mind,
To those below?
Or feign they blind,
From whence they grow?

What trees have glimpsed,
I too have gazed.
I’ve viewed the veils,
Of heaven raised.

I’ve seen the low,
Both bad and good,
Who with trees since,
Have same place stood.

Quantitative vs Qualitative: A LONG post on why Qualitative results should precede and drive Quantitative results.

First off, this will be a very long post. This was a month in the making. I wrote this in bits and pieces on scratch papers, so hopefully it all comes together. While this is very long, it can be cathartic to scribble down thoughts as I walk to school. Do not feel obligated to read the whole thing, unless you really want to. Future posts should be considerably shorter and less dense.

One last prefacing disclaimer: what I write might make some people question "What is truth?" (John 18:38). (Yes, I know who asked this).

If you just want to read the personal gossip/anecdotes/witty social critique, SKIP the next three paragraphs.  Warning: This entire post could be construed as judgmental, flippant, and offensive. I have admitted long ago that I think I am better than most people. If you want to read about something cute, SKIP to the very bottom of the post. Throughout this entire post, I am not speaking even remotely about any of you who would be reading this. I am not trying to make any accusations. Asking "Is it I?" is a very needed aspect of life that I will almost entirely ignore in this post. Also, to be patently clear, I am not trying to interpret doctrine or advocate unrighteousness. But we will end didactically.

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One question that often can be asked in evaluating something is that of qualitative results versus quantitative results. In other words, "looks/feel" versus "numbers."

A fast example demonstrating Qualitative vs. Quantitative comes from the NBA. One would never think that a player that has a career average of 6.4 points, 2.8 rebounds, 1.3 assists per game, and shoots 57% from the free throw line (rather mediocre quantitative results) would be a starter on three championship teams and would have his #12 jersey in the rafters of the AT&T Center in San Antonio.  But, Bruce Bowen (famous, so not a code name) was considered an excellent defender--something that sports metrics still have not really figured out how to capture. Bruce Bowen's utility was qualitative. You cannot quantify why he was a good defender; he just was.

Many times in life, we  allow quantitative results to dictate our qualitative results. This can be simply described as "check boxing." Allowing a number to drive our results usually comes at the expense of the quality of our results. Think fast food: Low price (quantitative) yields low quality. I will apply this to home teaching in a proceeding paragraph. 

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SKIP TO HERE for gossip/anecdotes/Slaps In the Face.
In thinking about Qual vs. Quant, I began to realize that in certain aspects of life we are very quick to use quantitative results over qualitative results.

We can count how many times someone has their ears pierced, but we then entirely overlook that there are some "one piercing" people who walk around wearing what can only be described as garbage can lids on their ears (But only one pair!), bright pink "contraptions" on their feet, and painted like they were going to a KISS concert. I guess I could get up at the pulpit in church and ask them if they get ESPN with those satellite dishes on their ears. This might actually have positives, as a good television signal sure would make some of those talks easier to survive without going into organ failure. I am pretty sure that I darn near blew a spleen during some of those Corn Flake Especially talks (Wait, was that a Fred Rogers reference?). Although maybe that was just because the guy in front of me had gone nose to navel. It is not easy to spend 45 minutes silently laughing without losing a few vital organs. Well, the spleen is not vital, but you get the point......

As usual, please do not think that I walk around at school or go to church and keep a tally for times I have though "Oh, Sister Macafeeley has those darn tin cans hanging from her lobes and is painted like she thinks her name is Ace" (See far right man with Gibson Les Paul). If you were to ask me which girls in my current ward have their ears pierced and what type of earrings they wear, I would first say "There are girls in my ward...?" and then I would say "I have no idea. I do not go to church to observe such things." I think that the girls in my ward are overall quite decent and respectable young ladies. (Alas, none of them read this). And it is not my place to begin placing them into categories of naughty and nice, pierced once or pierced twice. But, I think this illustrates how we are really good sometimes at publicly judging people over the pulpit in a quantitative manner ("I would never associate with someone who has her ears pierced twice," while holding up two fingers), but we turn a blind eye to things qualitative.*(Disclaimer)

KISS/"The Midlands 12th Ward." 

Since the last paragraph was offensive, I will talk about something less offensive: Home Teaching. Back long ago, my family had some home teachers that were amazing. Brother Beard and Brother 'Stache would bring Oreos for Christmas. And that was all they did.  Now naturally, for some families, home teaching needs to entail more. Rightly so. But for us, that was sufficient. They shot 8.33% from the FT line (Worse than Bruce Bowen, but not worse than BYU's basketball team last year). This was their quantitative result.  But their quantitative result was perfect. Again, I am not advocating not doing home teaching, but I think that we need to start letting the qualitative result drive the quantitative result, not the other way around.

I  heard first hand a story just this week from a young mother with a son who is about 5 or 6 and a baby that is 1 year old. The mother was painting her basement walls in preparation for carpet that was going to be delivered the next day and had just put the baby down to nap. Then her visiting teacher called and wanted to stop by and share a message--right then. The young mother deferred, saying that she was trying to finish painting her basement while the baby slept. Undeterred, the visiting teaching came anyway because "she had not missed a month in over 55 years." But instead of helping paint or tending the young boy/baby, this visiting teacher came and overstayed her already unwelcome welcome, then taught a message from the Ensign that I'm sure was touching. And meaningless. But she got her number: 100%. The mother then had to stay up late into the night making up for the hours lost while the visiting teacher got her numbers. 

This story is not to discredit visiting teaching. But I think we can learn something about qualitative and quantitative aspects of Church service. You might have just hit a half court shot, but if it was in the other team's hoop no one really cares.

Now for another (subtly) offensive paragraph. I remember a time when I was a visitor at church (If you are asking "Is this my ward,?" rest assured that it is not. You would know beyond a shadow of a doubt if I am talking about you). I knew pretty much no one there, and they did not know me. I was the proverbial "unshaven single man" in the back. One of the speakers got up and began to go into a long diatribe about why he hated how the Church expends its tithing money on "stupid and ugly people." And people began to laugh in approbation. Wait, really? Oh, sure, these people probably pay their 10%. But perhaps these nameless people missed the qualitative aspect of paying tithing.

As a visitor, it was sort of a one and done thing and I have never seen these jokers again. However it opened my eyes to the fact that we would never dream of paying only 9% (a quantitative result), but it is easy (and defended with vehement importance in the Waddlyacha 8th Ward I guess) to belittle how our 10% is used. Perhaps this is where we ask "Is it I?"

The overall conclusion I want to make is that too often we allow a number to become our doctrine, then checkbox that we have adhered to that number, and pat ourselves on the back. That about sums it up.

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*(Disclaimers). Yes, I heard live (and reread and watched while writing this post), the counsel given by President Gordon B Hinkley on women and earrings. It was given in a talk entitled “Great Shall Be the Peace of Thy Children” in October 2000 General Conference. Some things to keep in mind:
1. Sustaining a leader for something they never actually said can be nice, but baseless. The question we now need to ask is "What did Gordon B Hinkley say?"
2. I have no idea how to even interpret for you personally what he said. You need to do that.
3. It is entirely fine if you walk away from reading the talk and still feel exactly the same as you did before reading it. I am not trying to convince you of a certain view on earrings. 

4. We can read some interesting words in 1 Samuel 16:7. As always, I am not advocating that our appearance does not matter, but this teaches us an important principal. I am aware of course that a woman who wears large earrings can still be an entirely worthy member of the Church. The last thing I want is to turn this into some sort of bash on women and modesty.
5. That oft used "body is a temple" argument is rather specious here. Are we really going to say that a woman who has her ears pierced once has not defiled the temple, but ears pierced twice? Well sister, that has now defiled the temple. You read that talk, and he clearly makes a wise social concession (Okay, I interpreted something). In our society, it is perfectly acceptable (by myself included) for women to have their ears pierced. But again, read and listen to the talk, because both mediums were informative for me.
6. Gordon B. Hinkley sat on the BYU Board of Trustees since before I was born. And yet BYU's Honor Code always previously allowed for 2 sets of earrings.  
7. If I had daughters (which, as you know, I do not), I probably would advocate them not to have their ears pierced twice.
8. President Hinkley was clearly speaking in an overall qualitative and not quantitative manner. And that is the subtle point that both he and I are making.
9. I am also aware of what Elder David A Bednar has said on the subject ("Quick to Observe", BYU Speehes). He closed by saying "The issue was not earrings!" I could clearly say a lot more, but I will not. 
10. Understand that I could write a tome as thick as the US tax code and still not cover all of the different aspects of this topic. I know that some of you will take (and perhaps have) what President Hinkley said differently than how you perceive I have interpreted his words. Again, "What is Truth?"


SKIP TO HERE for nothing offensive. Here is a cute little book that I have never read: "Pinkalicious."

If I had daughters (which, as you know, I do not), I probably would advocate them not to read this book.