Post 229

Grumble....

So my blog has this problem for some reason that, whenever I try to embed a YouTube video, I only end up with the left half of the video frame, even when I choose the smallest frame size.

But take my word for it, this is pretty awesome.

(Also, my links are invisible in my current layout--another thorn in my side. So click on 'this is pretty awesome' even though it doesn't look much like a link.)

Post 170

I have been enjoying pretty much the coolest sickness ever these past couple days. I've never known a sickness to be so--convenient. But this one ROCKS! Check it out:

This coming Monday (December 8th) I have two research projects, a four-page assignment, and an oral report due. I, of course, figured I could slap them all together this week, but such was a poor decision, and I was pretty stressed out when I went to bed Wednesday night.

And then a glorious thing happened: I woke up early Thursday morning, choking and hacking and nearly asphyxiating because my throat was sore sore and congested. I had no voice. Recognizing that I couldn't possibly work in such a condition (Tuesdays and Thursdays I work eight-hour days), I texted a work friend of mine saying something like, "I'm sick so I can't come to work and I don't have a voice so I can't call in. Please tell them I'm not coming," and then turned off my alarm clock and went back to bed.

I slept till sometime between 11 and noon and then got up. I felt physically weak, but my brain was clicking just fine, so I spent about 12 hours working on final projects, so now I'm all caught up.

Thank you, sickness.

I woke up this morning and realized very quickly that I had forgotten to turn my alarm clock on and had therefore overslept. I looked at my clock and learned that I had slept through my first two classes--one of which I had a test in. Luckily, that teacher teaches another section of that same class a couple hours later, so I hurried off to campus, found her class, and went to talk to her.

Kinda. Ya see, I still didn't have a voice, and power walking through the chilly air had only made it worse. As I tried to explain what had happened, she said, "Kyle, you sound sick. Take the test on Monday when you're feeling better."

So this sickness helped me get my projects done and pushed a test back!

Thank you, little sickness. Thank you so much.

Post 159

As one who is sometime not very careful in the way he chooses his words, I really appreciated this bit from John Taylor. This is coming to you from the Journal of Discourses, Volume 26, Discourse 10.

(And I'm not just including this because it's kinda funny the way he says it--I really do believe this.)

You have drank from the river the streams whereof make glad the city of our God. The light of eternal truth has beamed upon your minds, and your hearts have been glad in the hopes of eternal life which have been presented to you when under the influence of the Spirit of God. You have rejoiced in the hope that blooms with immortality and eternal lives. Filled with this Spirit you feel that you are an eternal being having the principles of the everlasting Gospel within you; that you have received the everlasting Priesthood, that you are associated with principles that will exalt and ennoble man in time and throughout the eternities to come. There is something pleasing about it.

And when these miserable “dogs” howl and the coyotes yelp and exhibit their folly and nonsense—I was going to say, who the devil cares? Some people would think it is impious to say a thing like that. Yes, and the same people think it very honorable to lie in order to oppose the truth. No matter what men think of these things. I am not very precise in choosing my words in reference to such matters.

Poat 154

Hey everybody--it's been a while, and I have BIG NEWS!

So, I was down and out for a couple of weeks because I had (get this:) salmonella poisoning! Isn't that great? I always thought salmonella was an imaginary disease invented by mothers to keep their kids from eating cookie dough, but I guess it's real after all: I got it!

And, as if that isn't great enough, I ALMOST DIED!

I don't know much about vital signs, but when I had my roommates take me to the ER because my limbs were going numb, they were really worried about my vitals. Today I got a printout of my medical record; turns out my blood pressure when I was admitted to the ER was 72/42 and my pulse was 126.

That's baaaaaaaaad.

Isn't it great! This is so exciting: I almost died but, here I am, still alive! Go me!

Post 151

I’m about to say something that is, I think, the sort of thing that could cause people to hate me forever. It’s been milling about in my head for the past week or so, and I’ve been trying to devise some way to present it little by little and build up to my slap-in-the-face conclusion, but I’ve decided that that really just isn’t my style. So I’m gonna bank on the assumption that most people who read this blog are accustomed to my bluntness and then hope that that assumption doesn’t cause problems. Please understand that your first impression of what I say will most definitely be incorrect, so read the whole thing before you settle into your opinion.

There was one question I got on my mission that I was never really able to answer very clearly even though it never seemed particularly complicated to me. I’d heard the question from time to time before my mission, and I’ve heard it a few times since; I don’t imagine it is a new question, and I don’t think it’s ever going to stop plaguing humanity, but I have an answer that I am quite satisfied with.

The question: Why do bad things happen to good people?

My answer: They don’t.

Now, see? There you go getting all uppity. Why are you so easily offended? I’m telling you, you’ve jumped to a conclusion that is just plain wrong. I didn’t say that good people have easy lives, I said that bad things don’t happen to good people. Hopefully, by the time you finish reading this post, you’ll believe me.

I’ve been thinking about this because I’ve had a rough couple of weeks. I moved from one apartment complex to another, but my contracts didn’t overlap, so I had about a week and a half of homelessness. During that time, I went home to my parents’ house for a few days, where I learned that the skin cancer my dad has is worse than he’d been telling me. Shortly after I returned to Provo, a girl in a Passat rear-ended me, totaling my car twice over and screwing up my neck a bit. Less than a week after that, I in all my social suavity sort of blew to smithereens (again) a friendship I had been thoroughly enjoying. All this in the midst of the first week of my first real semester in my new major and while adjusting to a new place.

Now, this may shock some of you, but I actually consider myself well within the category of ‘good person.’ I feel I must be because, to my recollection, nothing bad has ever happened to me—ever. Oh, sure, I know what it’s like to have physical pain so intense it makes me scream or just shake, and I have experienced emotional pains such that I’ve been debilitated by sobbing for hours at a time; I have helplessly witnessed the mortal suffering of those I love, and I have seen those I care about make mistakes. I have tasted hate, been adamantly wished to hell, spit on, pushed around; I know what it is to be frozen with fear. I’ve made mistakes and writhed with guilt and regret. I’ve been rejected. I have felt shunned at times. But I really can’t think of a time when something really bad happened to me.

I list all these unpleasant things I’ve endured from time to time not because to try to convince you that my life has been hard: quite to the contrary, I think that all of those things are fairly typical and that you each could make a similar list. I mean, maybe you’ve never had physical pain so bad it made you shake, but perhaps you’ve been beaten by someone or struggled with a serious addiction or—or whatever other sorts of things people suffer in life. All I’m getting at here is that suffering doesn’t make somebody special: we’re all in this mortality thing together, and we each get our share.

You see, I’m just not convinced that bad things can happen to good people. Paul said that all things work together for the good of those who love God; Brigham Young said that he didn’t feel he had ever had to sacrifice anything for the Gospel because what he ended up with was always better that what he lost. And I say that nothing bad has ever happened to me.

I heard a story once that allegedly came out of ancient China; I think it will be helpful in this discussion (I’m setting it off not because it’s a quote but so people who’ve heard it can skip it if they like):

A man and his son caught a wild horse, brought it home, and corralled it. Their neighbors all came over to see it.

"What a beautiful animal!" the neighbors said. "You are so lucky to have caught it."

"Maybe," the man said.

A day or two later, the horse broke out of the corral and ran away. The neighbors came over to give their sympathies.

"Those damages will take a long while to fix," the neighbors said. "What an unfortunate loss."

"Maybe," the man said.

The next morning, the man and his son discovered that the horse had returned, and with it had come the rest of the herd, all grazing in the pasture. The man and his son barricaded the hole in the fence to keep the animals inside. The neighbors came over to give their congratulations.

"What good fortune!" they said.

"Maybe," the man said.

A day or two later, the man’s son tried to ride one of the horses, fell off, and broke his arm. The neighbors came over to give their condolences.

"He won’t be able to work the rest of the season," they said. "What bad luck."

"Maybe," the man said.

The next morning, a representative from the Emperor came and announced that all able-bodied young men were being drafted into the army, so all the boys of the village went off to war—except for the man’s son because he had a broken arm. Soon thereafter, a horrible battle killed all of those boys. The neighbors came again to the man.

"Our sons!" they lamented. "You are so lucky that yours could not go to war."

"Maybe," the man said.

The point of the story, I think, is that it is impossible to know immediately whether anything that happens to you is good or bad. I have often been amazed at God’s ability to take really horrible circumstances and consecrate them for my good. Also, if you really pay attention to what Moroni actually says in Ether 12:27, I think you’ll find his choice of verbiage (viz. "give") quite interesting. It’s hard to think of trials (and particularly our own weaknesses) as gifts or of humility as much of a reward, but God knows what He’s doing, I’m pretty sure.

Now, I’m not so wise as to be able to see the good in everything; for example, I’m not really sure why it was necessary (or even that it was necessary) for me to have only one kidney. Furthermore, I’m really not sure what good came out of spending the first 12 years of my life wondering why I was in so much pain while it quietly withered away (not that I knew it was withering away: that took the doctors an awfully long time to deduce). Also, I don’t really know what good comes of my occasional social casualties (sure, I learn from them, but isn’t there a better way?). Still, I believe wholeheartedly that bad things don’t happen to good people, and every unpleasant thing I ever encounter will one day be counted a blessing.

So that classic question—why do bad things happen to good people—is really a poor question, if you ask me, because the only acceptable answer is, "They don’t; can you please rephrase the question?" My question is this: Do bad things happen to bad people? I honestly don’t know: I’m not a bad person. I suppose bad people eventually wind up in hell, but I’m not sure that’s such a bad thing because, as we learn in Mormon 9:4, they’ll be happier there than they would be in heaven anyway. (Perhaps that’s taken a wee bit out of context, but I think the sentiment is fair enough.)

Do bad thing happen at all?

Certainly evil is real, and people make bad choices sometimes, but this notion of bad things just happening—I really don’t buy into it much.

Any thoughts?

Post 121

Weehoo, man--wee hoo.

Kierkegaard said, "the task must be made difficult, for only the difficult inspires the noble-hearted." That's probably a terrible thing to say to someone stuck in a mineshaft, but now that I'm finally seeing a light at the end of my tunnel, it makes me feel pretty good--ya know, it was painful, but now that I know it won't be endless, I don't mind the pain so much.

I'm a fairly impulsive person, I guess; I really enjoy thinking that I'm not, but I really am. I'm given to bouts of euphoria and depression, and I often go through phases where every day is either the best or worst day of my life--sometimes, the same day can be both, switching halfway through, occasionally several times.

With that in mind, I should probably take my own thoughts with a grain of salt, and you may considering carrying a shaker....

I'm taking a Linguistics class. It just started today, but I'm already completely obsessed with it. I love it so passionately that it's almost ridiculous. In fact, tomorrow morning, I'm gonna change my major to English Language (which is essentially Linguistics For People Who Only Care About English).

I could rave all about how exciting this is--I finally have direction in my schooling!!!!--but this isn't really the sort of blog where I tell you much about my personal life except when I think that it can relate to you somehow, so I'm content to say no more than, "Hey! Finally this little butterfly is showing some semblance of decisiveness!"

Here's the (hopefully) universally applicable part of this:

In Post 97, I told you all about how all my plans and goals for the future were completely decimated. It was frightening and almost devastating. Though there were some exhilarating moments in the rush of uncertainty, I more often felt like I was being pulled down by some metaphysical undertow, no breath to be had. In the past couple weeks, I've been quite nearly despairing (as evidenced, perhaps, by Post 117). I knew that I needed to just keep moving forward, but it's so hard to move forward when you don't know which way is forward. When all your options look equally unglamorous, it's hard to do anything but plop down in the mud.

But I have persevered in this dark tunnel, and now I can see a glimmering of light. Who knows, maybe it's just the sparks of my hammer against the stone walls, but it still gives me hope. And now that I have that hope--the hope that "forward" does exist--the journey doesn't seem nearly so bad as I thought, and I am indeed grateful that it has been difficult because I've learned a lot.

"the task must be made difficult, for only the difficult inspires the noble-hearted."

Post 117

I ain't gonna lie, I've been feelin' pretty down and out lately. Therefore, it is time for me to write another optimistic post, just to remind myself that life is more than existence and that happiness must be generated internally. Please note that I am not trying to convince myself to be happy, to force happiness in a world of despair. No, I am merely trying to remind myself (and all of you) that life alone merits happiness and that, though despair exists in the world, it certainly should not be considered the status quo.

I regret that I don't have anything very original to say; mostly I can only combine the encouraging thoughts that various friends have given me in the last little while. First, this poem courtesy of [V]:

When things go wrong, as they sometimes will,

When the road you're treading seems all uphill,

When the funds are low and the debts are high,

And you want to smile, but you have to sigh,

When care is pressing you down a bit,

Rest, if you must- but don't quit.

Life is queer with its twists and turns,

As every one of us sometimes learns,

And many a failure turns about

When he might have won had he stuck it out;

Don't give up, though the pace seems slow-

You might succeed with another blow.

Often the goal is nearer than

It seems to a faint and faltering man.

Often the struggler has given up

When he might have captured the Victor's cup.

And he learned too late, when the night slipped down,

How close he was to the golden crown.

Success is failure turned inside out-

The silver tint of the clouds of doubt-

And you never can tell how close you are,

It may be near when it seems afar,

So stick to the fight when you're hardest hit-

It's when things seem worst that you mustn't quit.

Continuing to press forward is key, I think. A friend of mine recently pointed out to me that, so long as a ship is moving, you can steer it however you want, but rudders are useless when the vessel isn't moving, and you can crank that helm all you want to when you're sitting still, but you can't change direction unless you're moving.

I guess the idea here is to pick a direction and walk. If you stay close to God, He won't let you get too far from the path before He calls for a course correction. Movement is the important thing. Sure, running headlong in the dark is apt to lead to crashing into walls from time to time, but crashing into walls again and again is infinitely better than sitting in the mud and going nowhere simply by virtue of movement.

Sometimes our lives are not the way we wish they were. Sometimes the life we're living seems to only ever approach the life we desire asymptotically--getting closer but never getting there. I'm willing to say, though, that [feel free to disagree with me on this; please leave any dissenting opinions as comments] there is never a time in which there is nothing about our lives we can change; we can always change (and hope to improve) some aspect of life.

I was impressed by some of Confuzzled's recent Wondering wherein she talked about our ability to change our fates. This is an empowering ideal, very important to keep in mind. It is in the deception that our lives are out of our control that we start to learn helplessness. Now, granted, things like the actions of others or any addictions we develop certainly can be out of our control, but so long as we're alive, there's never a time that we can declare our battle to be lost.

And so I just keep trudging along. What else is there to do--for I refuse to give up on living, and moving forward is the only other option.

Post 109

I have a lot of thoughts rattling around in my head just now, and I know that they are somehow interrelated--I can feel the association among them, but I just can't see it--so I figure I better disclaim the lack of linear logic that is bound to follow: my apologies. I'll probably hop around a lot, throwing out various thoughts, hoping that they come together in the end; we'll see how it goes.

Mostly my thoughts come from a couple of songs: "Vienna" by Billy Joel and "Forever Young" by Alphaville. I guess that the songs don't really resemble each other very obviously, but they both stir up the same feelings within me. YouTube them, if you like; they're good songs, but I can't guarantee that they'll make you feel what I feel. Maybe they will--who am I to say?--but I find that expressing emotion in words, though often difficult, is a relative cakewalk to trying to replicate those feelings in another, so my intent here is not to make you feel what I feel but rather to make you hear what I think.

I could put the lyrics of "Vienna" and "Forever Young" here, but I bet you'd probably lose the thread if you tried to read them--I know I would--besides, like I said, the similarities are more abstract than anything. However, there are two bits that really strike me--the words that always stand out to me when the songs are in my head--so I'll give you that and hope that it gives me a solid jumping-off point.

From "Vienna": "you can get what you want or you can just get old."

From "Forever Young": "It's so hard to get old without a cause."

I find it odd that these sentiments impact me so powerfully. I mean, I really have no right to complain about getting old--far from having passed my prime, I think I have yet to reach it!--but I really believe that the things I do now will set the trajectory for the rest of my life, and there are no options for course corrections later on should I aim too low.

But that's not really what's weighing on my mind, and, to be totally honest, I'm really not all that fatalistic. That is, however, a significant part of what I'm feeling right now, so don't totally disregard it.

-[logical gap]-

The way I perceive people and my relationship to them has changed drastically in the past few months. I used to be bitterly jealous of most everyone for one reason or another, but now, not so much. I've really noticed this lately in my association with [Dameon], my afore-mentioned supervisor at work. I really like the guy--a lot. We've had several meaningful conversations as we've cleaned dormitory restrooms together, and I always really enjoy his perspectives. He occasionally talks about how unspectacular he feels, and I suppose he is a fairly ordinary person, but that's what I like about him. He and I are on opposite sides of a milestone--I am questing (though perhaps not as assertively as I could be) toward marriage; he has finished that quest and is now embarking upon the new adventure of fatherhood--but, really, we aren't all that different from each other. Working around him has really been enlightening in that regard.

My senior year of high school, Mr. Richards (also previously mentioned) was my English teacher. We were a class of seniors, ready to graduate, ready to go out and take on the world, ready to be done with parents and public schooling, ready for life; he was a sixty-something school teacher, ready to retire, ready to get away from the world, ready to be done with our parents and the public school system, ready for life. It was his last year as well as ours, and that led to some interesting discussions. The one thing I remember best is reading Waiting for Godot. After we had read it, Mr. Richards said something that went like this:

"We are all waiting for Godot. All of us. You are so excited to graduate and leave this place; you think, 'Oh, I'll leave high school and go off to college, and then I'll be happy!' But then you'll get to college and you'll think, 'When I graduate and have a degree, I'll get a real job, and then I'll be happy!' But you won't. You'll graduate and you'll get a job you hate, and you'll think, 'When I get my dream job, then I'll be happy.' But no. Eventually, you will be like me, thinking, 'I'm going to retire. Then I'll really be happy.' We are all waiting for Godot, and we always will be until we learn to be happy in our current circumstances, whatever they may be."

Today [Dameon] was talking about how unfulfilling his life seems right now. He's got a wonderful wife and a baby son; he's got a college degree; he's building a house for his family to live in--yet it just doesn't feel as wonderful as it looks. Sure, he's got a college degree, but what good's it done him? He works as a janitor! He could do that without a college degree!

I told him about Waiting for Godot, and then we got to talking about how obvious the idea is--of course life is never going to hand you happiness on a silver tray! You've gotta learn to be happy with what you've got--but, even though this is easy to think up, it's much, much harder to actually apply. Even when you wholeheartedly believe in the principle, being happy is sometimes hard. I mean, I've made bold statements on how we need to choose to be happy, and I've been trying to increase the frequency of optimistic posts on this blog--I've even created an optimism label! But I recognize that being happy is sometimes hard; I struggle with it myself sometimes.

Remember my soulful mentor [V]? We had a late-night chat about this once. Here are some excerpts:

12:54 AM me:I just been thinkin'

and I decided that the world has pretty much gone to crap

It isn't GOING to crap; it IS crap

But

I'M not going to be crap any more

No ma'am

Not me

I'm done moping

12:55 AM It doesn't take a genius to see that times are bad

It just might take a crazy person to see the good in the world

But if the world wants crazy

well

HERE I AM!

So from here on out

Optimism

Yes, ma'am

Happy

Now on

No matter what

[...] I suppose happiness is a conscious action

and a lot of hard work

12:57 AM But bein' sad all the time ain't exactly a cakewalk

I mean

path of least resistance, sure

but

what's the point?

So

Happy

Yes, good.

Frankly, though, I kinda suck at being happy

something I need to work on, I guess...

12:58 AM So, that's what's on my mind

12:59 AM Sorry to dump on you like that

Kinda got caught up in typing and forgot that my ramblings are all over your screen
[...]

1:35 AM [V]: It is so true that happiness is a choice.

I'm glad you're making the choice to be happy.

That makes me happy, in fact.

So, well done, young man!

[...]
me: Yeah....

I've always known happiness is a choice

but

[V]: easier said than done, yes

me: [...] [There was a girl who spoke today in my Stake Conference that really annoyed me.]
She said something about being happy-smiley ALL the time, no matter what

and

I dunno

1:38 AM Sadness has its place in life

Jesus was sad sometimes

and angry, too

I think if we plaster on smiles and refuse to admit that life isn't all sunshine and rainbows, we'll miss a big part of the mortal experience we came here to get

Granted, we ought to try to be happy as much as possible

1:39 AM [V]: Oh I definitely agree

me: But happiness is not the only emotion--I'm not even sure it's the most important

[V]: But happiness isn't necessarily a plastered-on smile and looking happy... it's being happy inside, no matter what, which can be achieved, even when we're going through the darkest of trials

in my opinion

There are different kinds and different levels of happiness

me: God's the happiest guy in the universe, but I'm pretty sure he feels sorrow and pain we can't even imagine (mostly because of our stupidity)

1:40 AM Yes, yes

Different kinds

[V]: Oh yes, I definitely agree with that as well

me: Sadness and despair are two very different things

You can be sad or frustrated and still be filled with the hope the Gospel brings

1:41 AM Book of Mormon said despair comes of iniquity

[V]: yes

me: Basically, sinning screws up your ability to be happy

[V]: Ah, I see what you're saying

I agree

me: The joy of the Gospel is--I dunno--sort of something that can underscore EVERY aspect of life

even sorrow

[V]: Yes

me: But it doesn't prevent us from feeling sorrow

1:42 AM [V]: Oh I definitely agree

[...]

We aren't always happy... we don't always feel happiness...

Hope is more important.

Hope is what we should always have, not necessarily happiness.

me: And hope generally makes you happy

I guess

I dunno, maybe I'm running in circles here

So take that for what it's worth. Perhaps it doesn't mean much to you since you don't actually know [V], but the woman has been through the ringer a time or two (at least!), yet she maintains one of the happier personalities I've ever encountered. Gives me a lot of hope for humanity, really.

-[logical gap]-

This isn't really coming together the way I had hoped it would. But I have one last thought to present, so hopefully that does it.

I'm a fairly sentimental person in some regards. I've recently overcome most of my packrat-like tendencies, but I still have a few things that I hold on to for strictly sentimental reasons. One I carry with me in my wallet. It's a piece of paper that I found on the floor of the office supply store I worked in before moving up here. It was lying underneath a briefcase display, so I assume that it came off of a briefcase, but I couldn't figure out a place to put it, so I figured it was garbage and therefore free game, so I kept it. The piece of paper says this:

The leather of this product
is soft and mellow.
Marks and scars are natural
and serve only to enhance its beauty.

I have often found myself associated with people who are suffering from life's trials. I, myself, am not much of a sufferer--not that I'm especially stalwart; mostly I'm just prolifically apathetic. Of course, I do suffer sometimes, and I think to suffer is actually healthy, it just isn't something I'm particularly good at. But I look at the people I really admire--my dad, [V], several people I met as a missionary and at other times in my life--and they have all suffered quite a bit. But it's the overcoming that really makes them admirable. And, after they overcome, "Marks and scars are natural and serve only to enhance [their] beauty."

I'm not much of a poet--I mean, I can rhyme okay, but real poetry is hard to produce and certainly isn't the sort of thing that I can create at will. But sometimes poetry just happens. Here's a poem I wrote a while back while suffering vicariously for a friend (I mentioned this in my suffering post); it isn't gonna make me poet laureate or anything, but I think it has merit--at least enough to finish off this post (which really isn't going to have any sort of solid denoument, as it turns out. Sorry. I hope you got something out of all this...).

If I could write the story for your life,

I’d edit out the parts that caused the pains

And scars with which your noble soul is rife,

And chase away the clouds that still drop rain.

But if I wrote the story out that way,

I guess it wouldn’t really be your life,

And maybe you would not turn out the same

If you had never tasted pain and strife.

Oh, I have felt the fury of your wrath,

And I’ve received compassion from your heart,

And I have seen you cry and heard you laugh;

I fathom you God’s greatest work of art.

So let me get down to the bottom line:

I love you—scars and all!—dear friend of mine.

Post 104

Hey everybody, keep on keepin' on!

Little optimism for the day:

Post 84

Ready for your warm fuzzy for the day?

People, the world has gone crazy. I'm all for optimism, but fatalism seems a lot more reasonable lately--especially looking at politics. So, even though I'm not generally one to endorse happy-feel-good kinds of stories, I saw this one taped up in the stall of a bathroom I was cleaning and was immediately taken by its charm, so humor me and read it.

It was a hard one to find online; there are a few different versions floating around, but this one (with a few stylistic alteration by yours truly) is the best, I think.

Enjoy!

****

In 1986, Dan Harrison was on holiday in Kenya after graduating from Northwestern University. On a hike through the bush, he came across a young bull elephant standing with one leg raised in the air. The elephant seemed distressed, so Dan approached it very carefully. He got down on one knee and inspected the elephant's foot and found a large piece of wood deeply embedded in it. As carefully and as gently as he could, Dan worked the wood out with his hunting knife, after which the elephant gingerly put down its foot. The elephant turned to face the man, and with a rather curious look on its face, stared at him for several tense moments. Dan stood frozen, thinking of nothing else but being trampled. Eventually the elephant trumpeted loudly, turned, and walked away.

Dan never forgot that elephant or the events of that day.

Twenty years later, Dan was walking through the Chicago Zoo with his teenaged son. As they approached the elephant enclosure, one of the creatures turned and walked over to near where Dan and his son Dan Jr. were standing. The large bull elephant stared at Dan, lifted its front foot off the ground, then put it down. The elephant did that several times then trumpeted loudly, all the while staring at the man.

Remembering the encounter in 1986, Dan couldn't help wondering if this was the same elephant, so summoning all his courage, he climbed over the railing and made his way into the enclosure. He walked right up to the elephant and stared back in wonder. The elephant trumpeted again, wrapped its trunk around one of Dan's legs and slammed him against the railing, killing him instantly.

Probably wasn't the same elephant.

****

See? Don't you feel better now?

Look, we can't be despairing here, folks--leave that to the people at Yahoo. I mean, yeah, the world's gone to crap and we have the unequaled joy of rolling around in it--well? So what! At least we'll keep warm.

Old man trouble--I don't mind him. You may find him 'round my door, but I'll just make a big ok sign with my hands around my head and shake, shake, shake my blues away.

[If you could help me find a graphic for that, Th., I'ld appreciate it--I know his allusion was to "My Favorite Things" rather then "I've Got Rhythm," but I type it like I feel it; you understand.]

Here. Go listen to this. It'll make you feel better.