The March of Time

Caution: this post is a bit long and may even be depressing (although that is not really my intent). You have been warned.

When I came home from rehearsal this evening, my mom was watching an old family video my sister had made several years ago. In it was a segment that showed all of my siblings and I growing up as well as the first three kids in my brother's family growing up. It would start with footage of us as babies and then as kids and then progress into recent footage (at the time) all while instrumental music was played. It was very lovely, but also made me a bit melancholy, which doesn't happen very often.

When I saw the footage of my nephews and niece, for example, I thought about where they are today. One nephew is on a mission in Canada. The niece is on a trip in Thailand teaching English and is probably due to get married to her own return missionary within the next year or so. The third nephew is in high school. And still another niece who didn't even exist when the video was made, is 12 now, I believe, and is turning into quite the young woman.

My sisters have also gained children since this video was made; the first has three stepboys and a girl of her own, and my other sister and her husband have a nearly one year-old daughter.

I have a picture of me holding my oldest niece when she was born, and it seems like yesterday. As I watched footage of my brother's youngest boy, I remembered holding him on my shoulders. Now that would be impossible (in fact, it's more likely that he could hold me on his).

And, of course, there's the footage of my siblings and me as kids. There's my sister in the early 60s with super blonde hair gallivanting around our then sparsely-treed neighborhood (which now has so many trees the view down the street is somewhat obscured). There's my long-deceased father bouncing my now 6'3" brother up and down as a child. There I am running to give my dad a jacket, passing a car from the 70s that now looks completely ancient to me. There's my now married sister riding her tricycle. And I ask myself, where does the time go?

This morning I received an email from a friend. I met her and her husband in Belgium in 1992 when I was on my mission. We'll call them Marlyse and Jacques. At the time I was with my most challenging mission companion (a person, I am sad to say, who it will be too soon if I ever see again). Ironically, it was Marlyse and Jacques who contacted us. We were on are way in for the night, and Marlyse and Jacques, who never frequented this part of town, had felt compelled to take a walk in our area (which they actually had to drive to to do so).

They approached us just as we were about to enter our apartment and asked if we were Mormon missionaries. We said we were. They were primarily interested in our genealogical program. Jacques' father was an American soldier in World War II who had romanced his Belgian mother, and Jacques was the result. After the war ended, Jacques' dad went back to America, and Jacques had been trying, without luck, ever since to find him and any other family he might have.

We asked Jacques and Marlyse if we could come to their house and teach them, and they accepted. They never joined the Church, but they became two of my dearest friends from my mission. I always think of them as my Belgian parents. They were (and still are) such cool people, and they treated us so kindly.

Happily, my difficult companion was transferred the week after they found us, and my next companion and I taught them. Marlyse was an atheist, and Jacques was more agnostic, but both were curious. Unfortunately, the members of the branch we served, for the most part, did not leave Marlyse and Jacques with a good impression. A lot of them were very prideful, and at the time I always found it ironic that the atheist and the agnostic were more Christian than the church-going "Christians" were.

The best Thanksgiving I have ever had in my life was spent at Jacques and Marlyse's house in a country that didn't even celebrate Thanksgiving. It was a potpourri of traditional American fare and Belgian cuisine. They invited my companion and I as well as our district leader and his companion. It was wonderful and very memorable and helped me feel less lonely for my first Thanksgiving away from home.

Jacques and Marlyse took my companion and I to an American military cemetery near Liege, and it was so peaceful there, and obviously very sacred to my new Belgian friends. One of my favorite photos of Jacques and Marlyse was taken there.

Eventually I was transferred to another city in Belgium, but one that was close enough that Jacques and Marlyse surprised me by coming to our ward there and taking my companion and I out to lunch afterwards. It was so wonderful to see them again. They also later took us on a touristy sort of adventure to a nearby village which was very memorable.

When my mission was over, my mom came to get me and we toured Europe and made sure to visit Jacques and Marlyse. I went back two more times with my cousin and then my sister, and both times we visited Jacques and Marlyse, and the time with my cousin we saw a memorial ceremony at that same cemetery.

Later, Jacques found some limited information about his American step-siblings. I was able to hire a private investigative service that helped me track down his step-sister, and I called her and explained that she had a Belgian step-brother looking for her. She was wary at first, although she had known of his existence before I called her. Because she didn't speak French and Jacques didn't speak English, I served as a translator as they wrote each other back and forth. Eventually Marlyse, who knew English well enough to translate, took over those duties. Soon enough, Jacques became connected with the family he had always been looking for and which he had lacked with his Belgian family, and Jacques and Marlyse have visited them several times here in America. I was always grateful that God had helped me help him find them.

I still write Jacques and Marlyse, although our contact has dwindled a bit as we've gotten older. About a year or so ago, Marlyse and Jacques informed me that Marlyse had a very serious and aggressive form of cancer, and they were not very optimistic that Marlyse would survive.

Marlyse has been through a lot of chemo, and it's been a hard road, but she is still alive. She had asked me to help Jacques maintain contact with his American family after she passes because Jacques still is not proficient enough in English to communicate with them on his own. I promised her I would.

I wrote Jacques and Marlyse a month ago and never heard back, which was odd. I feared that maybe Marlyse had passed away and that Jacques was still grieving. But Marlyse wrote me an email this morning that said,

Hello [Cody],

It's been a long time, and I have needed to write, but I am having health problems which make me very tired.

We hope that you [and Jonah] are doing well. [Cody], you see what I have written, and I am already tired.

Right now I am still having oral chemo, plus I've have had the maximum of radiation.

Love you, take care

Jacques and Marlyse

It is hard to know that my once vibrant and very strong-willed friend is so weak and could possibly die. It is hard to know how Jacques will carry on without Marlyse, who has always been the rock in their relationship. I have not seen either of them in person for ten years now, and in my mind they are still the ages they were when I last saw them even though I know they are not. I'm sure Marlyse especially looks very different than she did ten years ago.

I'm at an age now where I'm starting to lose more people in my life. I've written about two of them here and here. Tonight my mom and I were talking about her own mother, who died here in 2002 while on vacation visiting my mom. Mom was with her when she died. I remember thinking how hard it was to watch this woman who was constantly on-the-go spend the last month of her life bed-ridden and struggling for breath and wondering if one day I will do the same for my own mother.

I look at my own mother, who is physically very healthy, but whose memory and awareness sometimes is impaired. Or I remember my once vital father, who was crippled by a series of strokes and basically slowly suffocated because of the amount of fluid in his lungs due to pneumonia.

Death is part of life, and, actually, most of the time I'm pretty good about how I handle it. We're all going to die. You. Me. Everyone. It's just part of the plan and only a temporary part of it at that. I'm not afraid to die nor am I terribly shattered when people close to me die (although I, of course, miss them very much). If anything, it just serves as a reminder for how grateful I have been for the value they have contributed to my earthly life and makes me excited for when I will see them again. But I do find as I get older, the march of time becomes more poignant to me in a way. When you're young and a teenager you think you're immortal and impervious to harm (at least I did). Now that I'm middle-aged, my mortality seems more real to me, and I feel more eager to suck as much as I can from the precious relationships I have in mortality while I still have them. I especially think about how often I am away from Jonah because of my career and how eager I am to try and find a way to spend more time together while we're still both relatively young and healthy. I've also thought more about what I want my legacy to be and who I might want to pass it on to.

The older I get, too, the faster the march of time seems to be. As a kid and a teenager, time seemed endless. As an adult, I can't believe how quickly time seems to pass by. Kids grow up so quickly and many of the people one loves start dying off. I guess it's a good reminder to value what you have while you still have it.

Memories of Rent

I went and saw some friends in a production of Rent. It was a decent production. Some performances were really quite impressive. I wasn't as wowed by it as I had hoped. In some areas I felt they held back when they needed to let go more. But it was enjoyable nonetheless.

I was actually reminded of the last time I saw Rent (which was also my first time seeing it). It was early in my relationship with Jonah a little more than five years ago. It's hard to believe it's only been that long. It seems like a lifetime and a different person ago.

I remember that night was hard. I was still very much struggling with my feelings for Jonah, and he sensed that I was going to call our relationship off because I couldn't reconcile my testimony of the LDS Church with my feelings for him. He broke down in tears and was quite a mess, and I felt terrible.

I remember being in love with him so much, but just not sure I could pursue it. I put Jonah through a lot of grief and turmoil during our first year and a half together. It's a wonder sometimes that he stuck by me and put up with my wishy-washiness. It's a true testament to his character.

I wrote some of my thoughts about that night in a post long ago, some of which I've included here:

Jonah and I went to see [Rent] tonight. I was feeling crummy because I felt like I was going to have to tell Jonah that I didn't think I could be with him after all, and Jonah seemed down because he sensed it, too (I told you, Jonah is like that; it's like he is so in tune he already knows things. It's a little creepy sometimes (in a good way)).

Anyway, Jonah and I had quite a talk tonight. Again, no pressure from Jonah. He did make it clear he wants to be with me, but said he would understand and respect my choice if I choose otherwise. I said that I just didn't think I could give up what I know to be true. We had a really nice talk. He is such a loving and supportive person, and, most of all, a wonderful friend. Anyway, Jonah had been inspired that the two of us should pray together, and that what we should pray for most of all is that we have peace. And when Jonah is inspired to do something, I feel it's best to follow through. He prayed first, and I prayed second. The Spirit was quite strong, I felt.

So now I'm home. I just said a private prayer. Basically I said, "Heavenly Father, just tell me what to do. Whatever you want, I'll do it. You want me to leave Jonah, I'll do it. You want me to be with him, I'll do it. Just please tell me so I can do it, because I am so confused right now, and Jonah and I are feeling too much turmoil in our hearts because of this situation."

Still waiting on a solid answer. Whatever it is, I just hope I feel at peace with it.

I am forever grateful that those days of confusion are in the past and even more grateful that I chose to be with Jonah. It is one of the best decisions I ever made in my life. The happiness I feel in my relationship is so much better than the misery, loneliness, and confusion I felt in life prior to choosing to be with him. I am forever grateful, and I'm glad that seeing Rent this evening reminds me of where I once was and how happy I am to be where I am now.

Waxing Cold

I sometimes find it ironic that I can't comment in Sunday School class because of my excommunication, and yet I have nothing inflammatory or divisive or controversial to say; yet any ignoramus who has been baptized and maintains full fellowship in the church can blather on with all sorts of ignorant or hurtful comments, and that is perfectly acceptable.

Most Sundays, it doesn't bother me. Most Sundays the stupid comments are not even worth getting upset about. But every once in a while I wish I could just stand up and say, "What you're saying is hurtful and not in the spirit of Christ. You should stop talking now." Today was one of those days.

The lesson was on the signs of the Savior's second coming with Joseph Smith-Matthew as the basis of study. In verse 10 it says, "And because iniquity shall abound, the love of many shall wax cold;" The teacher asked, "What are some examples of men's love waxing cold?"

A particular brother, of whom I have previously written about here and here raised his hand and actually started his comment with, "I'm going to say something I know I shouldn't say, but..." and proceeded to blame gay people for causing people's love to wax cold.

GAY PEOPLE?! We're the reason love in the world is waxing cold?! Really?! Are you kidding me? Actually meet some gay people, Brother Hypocrite! Get to know them. I think you'll find a lot of love and Christ-like attributes among many of them if you do. Although I admit, I'm not showing much of that at this moment. And, Brother, if you know you shouldn't be saying it, why are you?!

To his credit, the teacher responded with "I'm not going to touch that one," and quickly moved on. Another brother - a friend of mine who was present at my disciplinary council - raised his hand and said, "You know what I really think causes men's love to wax cold? When they put judgment before love. Jesus spent his life ministering to the sinners and the people that were supposedly thought to be the worst of society, while chastising the Pharisees, who thought themselves the best. Every person on this earth is a child of God, regardless of their actions or choices. We may or may not agree with what they do, but not one of us is living a sinless or perfect life, so we have no right to judge anyone; only our Father in Heaven does. I have never been in the shoes of another person, so who am I to label him or berate him. I just need to love him. That's what our Father has asked us to do - love each other. We should stop judging so much and just love."

That made me feel better, and I had a tear streaming down my cheek as I silently listened to his words. Then another woman who makes a lot of self-righteous comments said she was so tired of political-correctness and tip-toeing around things for fear of offending someone and that, yes, we should judge people if they are sinning and doing wrong. She said political-correctness was as much of an oxymoron as Arab unity. As I sat quietly stunned by her words, the message I felt coming across (whether she intended it or not) was "I have the right to my prejudices, and I'm going to continue to speak my mind about them." By the way, this is the same sister my mom visit taught and asked to be released from visiting teaching because she could no longer stand to listen to the homophobic and prideful comments she continued to make.

I go to church partially to feel uplifted. I didn't find Sunday School very uplifting. In fact, some of it left me feeling angry, sad, and cold. It always saddens me when religion (and I'm not just speaking Mormonism here because all religions do it) is used as an excuse for people to judge and pridefully assert that they are more righteous than others when, really, we all in the same boat.

It reminds me very much of the verses in Alma 31 about the apostate Zoramites who built Rameumptom in order to boast pridefully about how much better and chosen they were than their brothers, saying such things as "We thank thee, O God, for we are a chosen people unto thee, while others shall perish." And in Alma 32 it talks about how the poor were cast out of the synagogues because they were "esteemed as filthiness." Alma asks those poor, "And now, how much more cursed is he that knoweth the will of God and doeth it not, than he that only believeth, or only hath cause to believe, and falleth into transgression?"

If the Book of Mormon is written for its members, I think there are some valuable lessons we could all learn in there (myself included).

Anyway, I'm over it now. But it did upset me. I just wish people would think a little more before speaking and would keep in mind how Christ treated others.

But, hey, I'm not perfect, either. I've got plenty of faults of my own. Who am I to judge?

Transitions and Adjustments

So yesterday evening I went to a reunion. It was mostly a bunch of theatre friends from my college days. Most of them I hadn't seen in 18-20 years, so it was fun to get reacquainted and see some of them again. My only regret was that more of these dear friends were unable to attend.

Anyway, one friend who I haven't seen in person in probably 15 or 16 years had a sex change since I last saw her. She grew up as a man, and that's how I knew her in college and most of the years after. I knew she would be attending the reunion, and I wanted to make sure that I handled her transition as nonchalantly and normally as possible. I wanted her to feel that it was no big deal to me and to feel that I was treating her no differently than I did when she was still a man.

But I must admit, I was a bit nervous. When you've known somebody as "Bill" for most of your relationship, and they're now "Betty," it is hard to adjust. It's hard not to want to call them by their former name or refer to them as their former gender. That's obviously my problem, not hers, but I must admit it was challenging not to call her by the name I've known her as for most of our relationship. (I didn't, of course, and true to my intentions, I think I succeeded in making her feel that, as far as I was concerned, the sex-change was a complete non-issue for me.)

When we were in college together, "Bill" (not his/her real name) was a bit odd. We were friendly, but I certainly wouldn't say we were best friends or anything. Actually, at the time Bill scared me a little bit. He seemed preoccupied with death, violence, and liked to do outrageous things to provoke people. I remember him and another kid being absolutely convinced they were vampires and living their lives as closely to that ideal as possible. Bill enjoyed talking about morbid things and loved doing this trick where he would take a needle and flick it upside down and right side up over and over again with his tongue. He liked inflicting pain on himself to gross other people out and liked telling kind of gross stories. I was always convinced that if any serial murders ever occurred in the small college town where we lived, he would be at the top of my suspect list.

I later transferred to another college a year behind him, and he had mellowed somewhat since our first years together (I always suspect he was so outrageous because of self-esteem issues), and I liked him better then. He was an odd guy, though.

While I never once suspected that he yearned to be a woman, I also can't say I was surprised when he became one. I guess I was surprised he actually wanted to be a woman, but wasn't necessarily surprised that he did something so drastically life-changing as becoming a woman. It seemed like the kind of outrageous sort of thing he would do (and I don't mean that having a sex change is outrageous; I mean that Bill having one seemed like just the kind of attention-getting thing he would do when I knew him as Bill).

I certainly don't mean to imply that Bill got a sex change just to be outrageous. I'm sure Bill really wanted to be a woman. I just didn't know that until she actually became one.

Betty (also not her real name), by all accounts from mutual friends, seems much happier now, and from what I saw, I would agree. As one friend said (his words, not mine), "[Bill] could be kind of a douche-bag, but [Betty] is quite lovely." I actually have to say, my friend is kind of right. Bill could be a bit hard to deal with at times. Betty seems much more relaxed and happy with who she is.

Still, I won't lie. It does take some getting used to. When I gave Betty a hug, she, naturally, had breasts, and I thought to myself, "This is different. Last time I hugged her (as Bill) those were not there." Bill also had a very deep, somewhat gruff voice. Betty's is lighter and airier.

I will say, Betty still looks a bit mannish to me (but maybe that's because I've mostly known her as a man and it's harder for me to see the woman). Bill was quite a masculine-looking guy. In fact, as an actor he played the role of a very gruff cowboy-type villain in a fairly well-known movie. That was his type. Certainly she is more feminine now, but she still looks quite masculine in many ways to me.

In any case, I truly am glad that Betty is happy with who she is (and she does seem happier than when I last saw her). It was really nice to see her and my other friends. We had a really great time. I had so much fun and was really glad I went.

I'm Not A Mormon...(But I Am)

Recently a comment was left on my blog which basically said that since I've been excommunicated, I no longer have the right to refer to myself as a Mormon and that until I repent of my sins and am rebaptized, I should stop doing so.

Another ex-Mormon acquaintance basically told me that I can't claim to be a Mormon because unless I agree 100% with Mormon teachings and policy and abide by them, I am not a Mormon and, therefore, can't claim to be. For him, it's all or nothing; there is no middle ground.

This has caused me to ponder what it means to be Mormon. Well, obviously, the true definition means that one belongs to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. By that definition, I am not a Mormon. I have been excommunicated (going on almost two years now), and so, yes, I have lost the privileges and rights that come with being a member of the LDS Church, and I surmise that one of those privileges is to call myself a Mormon.

Yet, there is another part of me that can't help but call myself a Mormon. I don't do this to be deceptive. I am pretty upfront with people that I no longer belong to the Church, but I also share my love for the LDS Church and many of its values and how important they still are in my life. I'm quick to defend the Church when I feel it needs defending, and I'm honest about my activity (limited as it made be) in the ward I attend. The point is, most people who know me know that I am not a member of the LDS Church, but that I still live many aspects of my life as though I still am. So I'm not trying to be dishonest when I refer to myself as a Mormon.

I guess I still continue to call myself a Mormon because I feel like I still am (even if it's only in my heart and not in an official capacity). When people ask me if I'm Mormon, I generally say that I grew up Mormon and leave it at that, but I cannot seem to bring myself to say, "I used to be" even if it's true.

Look, when one is a Mormon for 38 years of the 40 one has lived, and when Mormon culture and religion is the only way one has lived for the majority of one's life, it's hard not to identify oneself as a Mormon even if one is not officially a member of the Church. Mormonism is as intrinsically a part of who I am as much as my gender or race or sexuality is. I spent many years of life trying to claim I was straight, but that didn't make it true. Likewise, it's hard for me to claim I am not Mormon even if I'm not. It's a very big part of who I am and how I came to be the person I am.

I'll bet if you were to ask the majority of the members of the ward I attend (and grew up in) if they regarded me as a Mormon, they would probably say yes even though many of them know I am not. I think my family would react similarly even though they all know I am not. My friends still think of me as Mormon even though they know I no longer belong to the LDS Church. Again, I'm not being deceptive. They all know I was excommunicated. They just think of me as a Mormon because of my attitudes toward the LDS Church and how I live many aspects of my life.

Yes, I am in a gay relationship, and, yes, that is a big sin according to the doctrines of the LDS Church, so, yeah, in that respect I am falling very short of living Mormonism. But I still attend church, I still pray, I still read and study my scriptures, I still have a testimony of the church even if I feel unable and unwilling to live by its precepts as far as my homosexual relationship is concerned. I still believe Joseph Smith saw what he said he saw; I still believe he translated the Book of Mormon; I still believe the Bible, the Book of Mormon, the Doctrine and Covenants, and the Pearl of Great Price are scripture; I still believe the leaders of the Church are inspired men while also believing they are imperfect. I don't drink or smoke. I try not to swear. I never take the Lord's name in vain. I have a very good relationship with my Father in Heaven and with my Savior. I still feel the Spirit. My spirituality and Christian upbringing still take great precedence in my life. I feel very blessed of the Lord.

Jonah and I are monogamous. I have never cheated on him and never would. We have great trust in our relationship. We didn't consummate our relationship until after we had our commitment ceremony. If he were a woman, there would be nothing in our relationship that the LDS Church would find unfavorable.

I have one friend who is also in a gay partnership (and has been for some time), but he went inactive in the Church quite some time ago. He has never been excommunicated. His name is still on the records of the LDS Church. Technically, he is still a Mormon, although he has little connection to the LDS Church these days. Does he have more of a right to call himself a Mormon because he is still officially a member?

I have another friend who is still an official member of the church, but now considers himself an atheist and hasn't practiced Mormonism in years. He doesn't believe in Mormonism anymore, but has never officially left the Church. Does he have more of a right to call himself a Mormon because he is still officially a member even if he has little connection to Mormonism anymore?

What about the active member of the Church who is sinning behind closed doors? Does he have more of a right to call himself a Mormon because he is still a member?

I lost my membership in the LDS Church because I was sinning against its doctrines, but was completely honest with my leaders about what I was doing and felt unable to repent of it because it did not feel wrong to me (and still doesn't). I could have hid my life and my sins and retained my membership. Would that have given me a greater right to call myself a Mormon?

Just because I am no longer a Mormon, does that mean all my Mormonism has been erased and nullified? No wonder people who have left the church or who have been excommunicated suffer an identity crisis at times.

I guess what I'm saying is that you can take the boy out of Mormonism, but you can't take the Mormonism out of the boy. Yes, I've been excommunicated. Yes, I am no longer a member of the LDS Church. Yes, I am no longer officially a Mormon. And anyone who knows me well knows this about me. But I am Mormon (if nowhere else but my heart), and no one can ever take that away from me!

Cast Unity

So I think I've mentioned several times in my blog that I am not the most social person in the world. I would much rather sit in my room and read a book or watch a movie by myself than go to a party. I would much rather have a quiet lunch with one or two close friends than have a group meal, even if it's with people I know and love. When I do go to restaurants, I much prefer a booth in the back away from from everybody rather than being seated near a lot of people. When I do go to the movies, I would much prefer it if there aren't a lot of people there (ideally, there would just be me and perhaps a couple of close friends (provided they aren't too chatty during the movie)).

I'm not big on noise. I very much value my quiet time. Parties and crowds, loud music and people talking over one another make me a bit antsy. I have spent days in a row before without leaving my house because unless I need to go out, I'm perfectly at ease entertaining myself. I am not one of those people who is afraid of being alone, and even people I love dearly, like Jonah and my mom, can attest that I do not require spending every waking hour with them (and, in fact, am quite content to be by myself at times).

At my place of work (which is a theater (I am an actor, after all)), I work with a very tight-knit group of actors and actresses. There were only two people in my group of of employees with whom I had not previously worked, and there is no one in my group that I dislike. Several of these people are close friends.

In an effort to promote cast unity, the cast often wants to do stuff together outside of our rehearsals (social activities, meals, etc.) I have worked for this theatre company several times now, and it's always this way, and that's fine. I get it. And everybody who knows me knows I am not the most social guy in the world, so they tolerate my lack of desire to sometimes participate in these activities. And I do try to make an effort to be social.

One of our activities during the rehearsal period is "potluck Saturday." These are often "themed" lunches (example: salad bar day, Mexican, potato bar day, etc.), and we are each responsible for bringing an item or items to share with all (so on salad day someone will bring lettuce, someone else will bring chicken, another will bring kidney beans, I bring avocados, etc.) It's a fun time for all, we share a meal together, we socialize, it's all good. Except one thing: I don't much care for potluck Saturdays.

I love these people dearly, honest I do; but after rehearsing four hours straight with my cast mates, what I want most at lunch time is to find a quiet corner off by myself and decompress for a bit until we start back up again. The last thing I really want to do (no offense to any of them) is have lunch and socialize with them. This honestly isn't a reflection on them; it's me. It's what I need at that time. I love them, and they know I love them. I just greatly value my alone time at the one time in my rehearsal day when I actually have the power to be alone.

There are also some personalities in this particular cast that are very loud and energetic. This is not a bad thing, but after four hours (and knowing that I have three more hours of it after lunch), it can be a bit much at times. I just want a place where I can think or read or do whatever I need to do in peace and quiet.

This cast is no exception. I'm this way with all my casts of all my shows, for the most part. While I do make an effort to join in an occasional social activity (especially with casts I particularly like), it is more rare than not that I will actually go bowling or out to eat or to a party at someone's house or on a hike or whatever social activity has been planned. It's just not my thing (and even when I do actually show up to a social activity with my cast mates, I don't tend to stay very long - make an appearance to show that I do actually care about these people enough to come, and then get out). I find I am more willing to be social with smaller casts. I was in a show with four other people (all of whom I liked very much), and it's easier for me to be with a smaller group of people (when I'm in a full-scale musical with 30 other people, I tend to vanish).

My other reason for not liking potluck Saturdays, is that there is one individual (one of the organizers of the event) who is a little militant in how she assigns who will bring what and how it needs to be done. She's a lovely person, and I actually do like her, but she can be a bit of a "Potluck Nazi" at times, and it makes the potluck a less enjoyable experience that I already feel it is.

While it's not a great deal of money, spending money every Saturday on items I don't already have in my kitchen does add up. And because I don't go out much (other than to work and occasionally out to eat or to an occasional movie), it seems like an extra annoyance to make a special trip to the grocery store for whatever item I need for that particular Saturday's potluck item. It just feels like more trouble than it's worth. And yeah, I get to share in a good lunch with a good group of people, but honestly, I would just rather bring and eat my own lunch than participate in the potluck.

I know, I'm a party pooper (at least inwardly; outwardly, I do my duty and bring whatever is required and share in the meal with my fellow cast members, all the time kind of secretly resenting it and wishing I had more time to myself). I don't want to be a party pooper. On the surface, it seems, everybody enjoys the potluck Saturdays and enjoys the social time and having lunch together. I don't want to be the guy who puts a damper on it by not participating. (It was nice, the last time I worked for this theater, that there was a fellow cast member who shared my feelings and attitude towards potluck Saturdays; but he isn't here this time - I'm alone in my sentiment, I think).

So I plug on. Jonah encourages me to make the effort; to create memories with my cast mates that I can look back fondly on. I'm trying, as I always do, to be more social; but I'd be lying if I didn't say that, secretly, potluck Saturdays just aren't my bag.

Later, when we open the show, potluck Saturdays will end, and we'll have two-show days when the cast will want to out and eat in between shows. I usually draw the line at that. First off, it gets expensive (especially depending on where everyone wants to go), and then waiting to order, waiting for everyone to eat, figuring out the bill, all the loud conversations, etc. makes me crazy and also makes me feel that my lunch time has been eaten away. I either bring a lunch from home and eat by myself at the theater or go to a cheap fast food place and get something and then return to the theater and take a nap. That's how I like it. I usually make an effort to go out the week we close our show, and maybe one other meal during the run (or, in the case of last time, just go to lunch with the other anti-social cast member in the group), but that's all I can muster.

Does that make me a bad person?

The Book of Mormon Musical: An Afterthought

So about the same time I posted my reaction to the soundtrack of The Book of Mormon musical, I came across someone else’s reaction. He called the show “pure garbage” and was mystified at how “some so-called ‘Mormons’ and supposedly ‘Active Members’” could praise it.

He also said “The fact that so many people, including members of the church, have given it such glowing reviews simply manifests how desensitized these people are to vulgarity and blasphemy, and how far their hearts are from God.” He called the message of the show “Anti-Christ” and said there was “absolutely nothing uplifting, edifying, or virtuous to be gleaned” in seeing or listening to it. He called it “spiritual anthrax” and “anti-Mormon.”

He said that “Latter-day Saints should distrust anyone, member or not, who praises such wicked doggerel.” (“Doggerel” is such a great word.)

I agree with other points in his diatribe, such as the way the names of our Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ are thrown about so casually in the musical makes me cringe or that the song “Baptize Me” is offensive because it contains innuendo that equates baptism with the first time two people have sex. There is also a lot of language and situations that are offensive. However, to say that the show has absolutely no redeeming value at all, I think, is a bit disingenuous. I also don’t feel the show is anti-Mormon. If anything, I think the creators have a certain amount of amazement and admiration for Mormons even if they are completely bewildered by them and their beliefs.

I think in order to appreciate the good qualities of the show, one has to step outside of oneself and try to see the musical from the creators' points-of-view. I think Matt Stone, Trey Parker, and Robert Lopez all think organized religion is a bunch of bullcrap, but I also think Stone and Parker have a certain admiration and maybe even envy for how people (Mormons, in this case) can believe in crazy stuff (in Stone and Parker’s view) and yet how it can change people’s lives for the better.

I had a dear college friend who was an atheist who was absolutely perplexed by my sure knowledge that God existed and loved each one of us individually. Some of the Mormon beliefs he found absolutely weird or wrong. At the same time, he admired the fact that my belief was so sure and strong and even envied it in spite of the fact that he didn’t fully understand it or know how to achieve it himself. I kind of get the feeling Matt Stone and Trey Parker are coming from a similar place. (Side note: my friend, while still unclear on who God is, now does believe in a higher power of some kind).

Yeah, I do think one of the messages of the show is that religious beliefs are absurd and crazy and probably made up, but that if it does good, isn’t that a good thing? But I also think that’s the place that Trey Parker and Matt Stone (and possibly Robert Lopez) are coming from, and so I think it can be valuable to see the world from their lens, from their point-of-view.

Having served a mission myself, I knew people just like Elders Price and Cunningham; the former being the cocky missionary who thinks he knows it all and is going to change the world, and the latter being the green guy who’s thrown into a world he doesn’t understand and is unsure of himself.

While I fully agree that the musical is filled with a lot of filth and obscenity, I also think it portrays Mormons as good people, full of optimism, spirit, and good works (and, yes, maybe some naivety and over-assuredness). The actions they do bring good to the people whose lives they touch (even if, yes, those actions are the result of some falsehoods – but I think that’s part of the point: since Stone and Parker think religion is kind of a crock, they’re simply illustrating that what they regard as fantastical and far-out beliefs can still alter people’s lives for good).

Yeah, the show makes fun of Mormons and Mormonism, but don’t Stone and Parker mock everybody? I think they're equal opportunity offenders. And disagreeing with the writer of the blog post I refer to, I do think Stone and Parker do have positive feelings towards Mormons even while mocking them, so I think it’s a stretch to say that the show is anti-Mormon. After all, the Mormons are the heroes of the piece. In the end, they win out. Elder Cunningham gains confidence, Elder Price overcomes self-doubt, and the Ugandans’ lives come out better because of the Mormon missionaries’ influence in their lives.

And while there are some blasphemous passages in the show, I do think it also contains passages that celebrate Mormons’ sure knowledge in what they believe and touches on Joseph Smith’s martyrdom in a manner that even pays tribute. In the song “I Believe,” none of the doctrines Elder Price claims to believe in are doctrinally incorrect. The history of the LDS Church in the song “All-American Prophet,” while seen through the skeptical and mocking lens of Stone, Parker, and Lopez, is pretty accurate as seen from an outsider’s point-of-view. And we also know in the song “Making It Up,” that the stuff Elder Cunningham is espousing is not actually the stuff Mormons believe.

My biggest complaint with the blog writer’s post is how judgmental he is of those who could possibly find anything redeeming about the show. He can’t fathom that somebody who likes aspects of the show could possibly be a believing, faithful member of the Church. Of course, by his qualifications, my opinion doesn’t matter anyway; after all, I’ve been excommunicated going on almost two years now. But then, in his words, someone like me is “desensitized” and my heart is “far from God.” I don't feel that way about myself, but the blog writer seems to have a monopoly on righteous judgment, so who am I to believe myself (tongue firmly planted in cheek, by the way)?

Don’t get me wrong; there is a lot about the show, based on my own listening of it, that I don’t care for. There is much about it that is offensive and blasphemous. But to say that there is “absolutely nothing uplifting, edifying, or virtuous to be gleaned” from the show seems very biased. All I’m saying is that from an outsider’s point-of-view (or even an “insider” Mormon who actually has a sense of humor about himself and his religion), one might actually find something of value in it. Who knows? The show may even get people who know nothing about Mormonism to explore the religion further. I don’t know. But if it does, is that a bad thing?

My general assessment is that there are things about the show that make me cringe and are uncomfortable, but I do think the show makes some accurate points in a satirical way, and I do think that although it may make fun of Mormons and what they believe, it also considers Mormons to be good people even if they seem weird. And after all, aren’t we a “peculiar people?” I still maintain that it’s a “love letter” of sorts to Mormons from two atheists.

The Book of Mormon Musical

So I finally had a chance to listen to the score of The Book of Mormon on NPR. (Warning: If you do give it a listen, there may be material you find objectionable - seriously.) Obviously, there's been some controversy about the show and also the show has received a lot of great reviews and accolades.

While not always a fan of the crass humor that Matt Stone and Trey Parker exhibit on their television show, "South Park," I do think they have a gift for satire and are sometimes quite clever. Often they push the envelope too far for my personal taste, but I guess that's what satire is often about. I don't watch "South Park," and I've only seen the tail end of a few episodes while waiting for "The Daily Show" to come on. Some of what I've seen has offended me, but some has made me laugh, and often points are well-made in a satirical, but crass manner. I guess what I'm saying is that I actually appreciate some of the things Parker and Stone have to say; I just don't always appreciate the way they say it. And I'm sure that would be the case if I ever saw this show (which, I do not hesitate to add, I would do if given the opportunity - I don't think you can really judge the value of a show without experiencing it yourself).

I have not seen the show, and my comments are based only on the songs I've heard and what little of the plot I know. So here's my assessment, for what it's worth:

"Hello" – It’s a catchy tune. I actually quite like it. The doorbell stuff is clever. I think it typifies the way Mormon missionaries behave. I'm not to keen on how Jesus Christ’s name is interspersed in a somewhat flippant way. It comes off a bit blasphemous, to my ear. I like how the character of Elder Cunningham is introduced. There are some really good voices throughout the score, and this song is a nice introduction. "Burn in helloooooo!" is a clever lyric. I like the “hello” chorus at the end. One lyric is "This book will change your life," which I think is true (isn't that what the LDS Church said in their statement about this musical?).

"Two By Two" – I think it captures how a lot of missionaries feel when receiving their calls. The spirit, the enthusiasm. Not exactly accurate on how it’s done, but it’s forgivable. I like the joke of The Church of Jesus Christ with "of Latter-Day Saints" squeezed in. I really think the performers vocally capture some of the naivety and good-heartedness of Mormon missionaries. I think when they get called to Uganda, it also captures the disappointment missionaries sometimes feel on not getting the call they were hoping for. I love Elder Cunnigham’s naivety of not even knowing where it is, but still feeling good about it. It's a peppy, fun song. I like the rhythmic breakdown.

"You and Me (But Mostly Me)" – I knew some missionaries like Elder Price. I think this captures well the pride that some missionaries carry. I also like how this captures the initial relationship of Elders Price and Cunningham. I think it’s got some very funny moments. I also like how this captures how missionaries feel as they’re going into the field vs. the reality they often face. This has a very “Defying Gravity” sort of essence to it, which probably was intentional.

"Hasa Diga Eebowai" – While I like the “Hakuna Matata” spoofiness (not a real word, by the way) of it, I have a hard time with anything that takes the Lord’s name in vain nor do I care for the F-word, so some of the lyrics grate on my nerves. The tune is catchy and very Lion King-like. I do get the sentiment. Life for some people is pretty terrible and often unfair, and there's an amusing juxtaposition of the Ugandans’ very serious daily life problems with that of the Mormon missionaries’ far less consequential "problems." I can certainly understand that there are people out there who feel, due to the injustices of life, towards God the way these characters do, so I can appreciate the message of the song; but the song is too crass for my taste. I also appreciate the relation of where the characters are in their journey in this song and where they end up later in the show.

"Turn It Off" – I think this song, sadly, does portray very well how some Mormons behave and repress their feelings or mistake “keeping the world out” with not allowing themselves to explore issues or feelings they might find distasteful. It certainly touches on the Mormon attitudes towards homosexuality. The melody itself is kind of repetitive, but is still kind of bouncy and has a nice tap section. Again, good male voices. Nice parody of big showstopping number.

"I Am Here For You" – This song reminds me how endearing I find the character of Elder Cunningham. I like the idea of how when missionaries are discouraged, there’s still that underlying optimism and spirit. The song is actually quite endearing.

"All-American Prophet" – Nice illustration of how “American” the Mormon religion seems. It also illustrates why a lot of people who aren’t Mormon sometimes find our beliefs a bit weird or why people are skeptical of the Mormon faith. There are some funny moments in this song. Nothing is particularly doctrinally incorrect. It basically tells how the Mormon religion was founded and propagated. It's a nice poppy number. Actually, it is even kind of nice tribute to Joseph Smith’s martyrdom.

"Sal Tlay Ka Siti" – Kind of a fun “Part of Your World”-style number about this Utopian version of Salt Lake City as seen through the eyes of a Ugandan girl. I like the optimism and hopefulness of it and how different this girl’s reality is from the vision she has of what Salt Lake City is. I like the lyric about how she bets the citizens of Salt Lake City (in her idealistic view) are “open-minded and don’t care who you’ve been” and how she wants to “fit in” with those people. Kind of a nice irony. It’s a nice ballad sung very well.

"Man Up" – Not my favorite number in the show. I actually like the comparison of the example Jesus gave us to follow with what we must to do, but again, the throwing his name around in vain and portraying his crucifixion in a kind of flippant, light-hearted way bothers me. I’m assuming this is the Act One closer. That’s how it feels to me. I like how the characters are facing where they are in their own personal journeys. I also like that Elder Price is dealing with doubts.

"Making Things Up" – I’m guessing this is Matt Stone, Trey Parker, and Robert Lopez’s commentary on why organized religion exists and how it's created to help people, but can often come across as meaningless, silly, and absurd. There is some language in the song that I find distasteful, but I do get the point (at least how I interpret it) that the things Elder Cunningham is telling the Ugandans is helping them better their lives even if they aren’t true.

"Spooky Mormon Hell Dream" – This is fun song which I think illustrates the guilt Mormons put on themselves, and how the need for perfection sometimes causes us to judge ourselves too harshly. I like how what Elder Price has done is just as horrible in his mind as the far worse actions of others. Mormons often do that, I think. I know I did. Some language in the song is not to my liking, but the song has its amusing moments, and is a good illustration of the demons Elder Price is wrestling within himself.

"I Believe" – I think this is my favorite song in the show ("Hello" being a close second). This song is quite touching actually. I like Andrew Rannel's voice, too. Nothing in the song is doctrinally unsound, and yet it is also clear why outsiders find the Mormon religion kind of odd. I like this idea that Mormons just believe what they do because they feel it is true. I even sense the creators of the show admire and maybe even envy that quality even if they don’t understand it.

"Baptize Me" – Because I do think of baptism as a sacred ordinance, I don’t particularly like the sexual innuendo that the song contains. But I do like the idea of how exciting the baptism is for both the new convert and the missionary who has never baptized anyone.

"I Am Africa" – An anthem-like song about becoming one with the people one lives with as a missionary. I think I really need to see the show to get a better sense of how this song fits in.

"Joseph Smith American Moses" – This is very reminiscent of “The Small House of Uncle Thomas” from The King and I. I appreciate the parody, but the song contains too much of F-word and treats Joseph Smith and Brigham Young in a somewhat blasphemous way that it isn’t to my liking. I do, however, like the point of how kind and polite Mormons are, and I know that Matt Stone and Trey Parker have often said that even though they find Mormon beliefs hard to swallow that Mormons are some of the nicest people they've known. I also get the point that even though the story is ridiculous, how enamored the Ugandans are of this religion that has bettered their lives. And maybe that's a point the creators are making: organized religion can be very ridiculous, but still help people.

"Tomorrow Is a Latter Day" – Nice closer, and everyone’s life is better and brings us full circle as these Ugandans’ lives have improved as have those of the missionaries who taught them. I actually believe Matt Stone and Trey Parker’s assertion that in spite of any crassness or blasphemy, this show really is a kind of “love letter” to the Mormon religion even if its doctrines are not fully understood or relatable to the two men.

In short, the score was basically what I expected. There is some fun, clever music to be found and some valid points to be made, but some of the material makes me cringe. I think the message is good. Like I said, I would see it if I had the opportunity, but I don't think it's a show I would be at all comfortable taking my mom to.

Attitudes

Yesterday I received an email from a friend I used to work with. This friend knows I'm gay and wanted to share something with me. In part, this is what his email said:

...Since you last [worked with me], my son...who is now 21, came out. I love and support my son. Since then, I have struggled with the same issues you've had to deal with for so long: How do I reconcile my faith in the church with having a son who is gay?

I've have come to the conclusion that there is more to be revealed on this subject. It is my feeling that this revelation will come when the members of the church are ready to receive it--when they are willing to love and accept their gay sons and daughters. I have found that the perceptions of church members are changing as more of them are finding out they have close relatives who are gay.

I want you to know that you have my love and support. I know that God loves you. I admire you for keeping your testimony.

I was actually quite grateful to hear from this friend. When I worked with him, I suspected that his son might be gay based on things he told me, and I feared my friend's reaction because he had real issues with it and could sometimes come off as homophobic in his attitudes. I’m pleased to see he has softened somewhat since I last worked with him. I wrote him the following response:

I was very pleased to receive your email.

I always wondered if your son would come out. I remember when [we worked together] you would tell us things that made me think he was probably gay, and I always wondered how you would end up reacting to that. I am, of course, glad that you continue to love and support him. Some stories I hear of how some parents treat their gay children break my heart, especially when those parents are supposedly espousing Christian beliefs.

As ones who come from the Mormon faith, it is a struggle knowing how to reconcile one's faith in a church that one believes to be Christ's church on earth with the issue of homosexuality, which is clearly (at this time, at least) contradictory to what that church teaches.

As for myself, I know with all my heart that I tried my very best to live according to the teachings of the church (as far as this issue is concerned) until I simply felt unable to, and I know as sure as I know anything that my life has been much happier and fulfilling since I found my partner and since I came out. And yet I still do maintain a testimony, and I still continue to attend my mother's ward here in Utah and another ward when I am home... I don't know how it will all work out, and I don't even know that it matters.

What I am sure of is that God knows my heart better than anyone, and I feel very at peace with the decisions I have made, and I feel the Lord is happy that I am happy. He continues to bless my partner and me very much, and I have felt his love in great abundance.

As I was telling my partner about your email, he said that as children of God, ours is not to judge or waste time wondering why things are the way they are or wishing things could change; ours is simply to love...our children, our parents, our siblings, our friends, our neighbors, our enemies. We can't live in fear of the unknown; we can only do our best to live the most Christ-like lives we are able to live under the conditions mortality has afforded us. God knows our hearts and intents and will judge us accordingly. I take great comfort in that.

Like you, I think there is far more to God's plan than we realize, and perhaps you are right - that we will receive further knowledge on this subject when we are ready for it. But whether or not that happens, I think it's important for members to love and accept their gay children, their gay siblings, their gay friends, etc. After all, that is what God already does with each and every one of us - he loves and accepts us for who we are, warts and all, and his Son's atonement takes care of the rest.

Thank you for your love and support. It is greatly appreciated. And I'm sure your son...feels the same way. Like you, I know God loves us very much.

Remain well, my friend, and thank you again for your very kind words.

Love,

[Cody]

My friend responded with:

Thanks for your response. I'm glad to hear that you are at peace with your decision and that you are happy. That says a lot to me. If we believe what we read in the Book of Mormon that "wickedness never was happiness" (Alma 41:10), then by the current Mormon definition, we would expect you to be unhappy, because you are "living in a state contrary to happiness." (Alma 41:11) The fact that you are the happiest you have ever been tells me that God made you the way you are and accepts you for following your nature. That lends credence to my theory that there's more to be revealed on this subject.

I share the opinion of your partner. When I talk to other Mormons about [my son's] sexuality, I say: "I've come to the conclusion that it's not my job to judge him. It's my job to love him. I'll leave the judgment up to God."

Best wishes.

I was just mostly glad to see that love triumphed over dogma in my friend's relationship with his son. I think that's how it should be.

Also I met with my former Stake President last Sunday. He just wanted to see how I was doing and asked me how my fellow ward members (many of whom know I am gay and excommunicated) have been treating me. I said they've been very loving and kind. I haven’t experienced any negativity. He said he was glad to hear that and stressed that as long as he was Stake President, if anyone ever offended me or treated me negatively, he wanted to know about it, and he would deal with it. I thought that was nice.

While he still feels like the doctrine of marriage being between only a man and woman is an eternal principle, he also stressed to me that he does not judge me nor does he know how all of this will work out in the afterlife. He believes (and he said this was simply the doctrine according to him, personally, - not as a representative of the LDS Church”) that he believes Christ’s atonement will make up for anything I have lacked in mortality and that he liked to believe that Christ would be my advocate in letting me receive the greatest rewards heaven has to offer.

I know he was trying in his own way to tell me that he believed, in spite of what he still sees as a sin, that God would treat me fairly in the afterlife. I wasn’t offended or bothered by anything he said (although I think Jonah was when I later recounted the events of my meeting with my Stake President - Jonah basically said, "If he believes that as a person, why should he have to quantify it?"). I know my relationship with God is good. I know that I’m happy. I don’t need to prove anything to anyone. But I know his words, as awkward as they may have come out, came from a good place. I know that his heart was in the right place, and I honestly didn’t feel any judgment from him even though his words might have been seen by someone else as judgmental. He’s working with what he’s got based on the knowledge he has as am I.

I think he hopes I’ll rejoin the Church someday, but like Jonah says, I’m already there, and as long as the Church teaches me that I can’t be an active Mormon and be with Jonah at the same time, it’s a no-go for me. And I’m truly okay with that.

Every time I meet with my Stake President, he tells me about this other guy that he was friends with who was excommunicated from the Church for similar reasons as I was. This young man, however, has become antagonistic towards the Church, and even though he still considers my Stake President a friend personally, because he’s a Stake President, the young man asked that he stop contacting him because it was just too painful. My Stake President thinks about him a lot and wishes he could talk to him the way he talks to me, but because of his attitude towards the Church, it does not seem possible at this time. My Stake President says he often feels like calling the guy to see how he’s doing, but always feels prompted not to. He says perhaps when he isn’t a Stake President anymore the time will be right.

It always makes me sad when I hear him talk of this young man; sad that both men have lost that relationship because of where they stand with the Church; sad that the young man has “thrown the baby out with the bathwater,” so to speak; and sad that My Stake President cares so much about this guy, but can’t seem to do anything at this point in time to reach him.

I don’t feel the time is right, either. I feel it is likely the young man will lash out or react unfavorably and end up hurting my Stake President more. But I do think the time will come when he and this young man can have a healthy and good relationship again.

My former Stake President expressed his love and friendship to me. His biggest fear was that when I was excommunicated, I would go the way of so many other people and become angry, bitter, and disenfranchised. I told him I still have a great love for the Church and many of its values, but still maintain that I had to do what I had to do and have no regrets in doing so.

He said he knows I am happier. He says when he used to talk with me there was this cloud hanging over me all the time, but since I’ve found Jonah and come out and been excommunicated, he can see a brighter spirit in me without my even having to say how happy I am. And he’s pleased I still attend church and share my spirit with others.
It was a good meeting. I guess you really had to be there.

Anyway, those are some thoughts I wanted to share today.

Feeling Strange About Bin Laden's Death

I preface this post by saying that these are the feelings I am feeling right now, and I don't wish to be attacked for feeling them.

I recently learned the news that Osama Bin Laden has been killed. My first thought was "Finally!" but as I dwelled on it and as I read some of the comments of my friends' reactions on Facebook, I had another thought: while there is some comfort in knowing that a man who committed evil acts and was continually interested in our downfall is no longer on this earth, at the same time I found myself having a hard time sharing in the glee that many seem to feel over this man's death.

Please don't misunderstand me; I think the world is a better place without Osama Bin Laden in it, and I truly hope this can bring some closure to those who lost loved ones on 9-11. The man did some terrible, unconscionable things, and I can understand that people are happy that he's dead. I just have a hard time myself celebrating another human being's death even if that human being did some horrible things.

I guess what I'm saying is that more than relishing this man's death, I feel sorry that he felt he had to cause injury and death to so many innocents for what seems an unworthy cause. Yes, I can be happy that justice has been served in a way, but I don't feel like it's right to be so gleeful about it. Again, these are my feelings and mine alone. If others want to be gleeful, that is their right. It just doesn't feel right for me to be feeling that way.

At the very core of it, if I believe what I claim to believe - what I believe Christ taught as I understand it - every soul is valued and loved by our Father in Heaven. That certainly doesn't mean he condones wicked actions nor does it mean justice shouldn't be served if a soul has done something that merits it. Therefore I have to believe, though it is often difficult in my mortal state to do so, that Heavenly Father loves a Bin Laden, a Charles Manson, or a Hitler as much as He loves a Gordon B. Hinckley, a Gandhi, or a Mother Theresa, for example. I don't imagine Heavenly Father is feeling much joy over the things Bin Laden did with much of his life, but nor do I think He feels much joy in celebrating how that mortal life ended.

In the end, God is judge of all: you, me, Hinckley, Lincoln, King, Stalin, Hitler, and Bin Laden alike. We are all his children, and even if I don't fully comprehend the kind of unconditional, all-reaching love He has for each and every one of us, I believe in that love. I know it exists and I know it sees every facet of the human heart, even a Bin Laden's. I don't feel like celebrating his death even if I hope at the same time that the world may be safer without his presence (and even that I am not sure of).

Again, I am not defending the man or his actions; I'm just choosing not to be gleeful over how his life was lived and how it ended.

Tuning In On TRAX

Through my employer, I get a free pass to ride TRAX (public transportation system in the Salt Lake Valley). In the past I've only used it during inclement weather. However, the past few weeks I have taken advantage of free public transportation in order to both save on gasoline and in an effort to be more environmentally-friendly.

I don't enjoy public transportation both because it takes longer to get places and, more so, because I don't like sharing my ride with many of the individuals who ride public transportation. When I'm on a bus or tram, I mainly just want to relax and read a book or the newspaper. I am not particularly interested in engaging in conversation with anyone, even the interesting ones (of which I haven't found many).

I've freely admitted in my blog that I am not a very social person and generally like to be left alone unless I'm with one or two close friends. This goes double on public transportation.

There are many people who ride public transportation that are socially awkward and, in some cases, downright scary. I find it best not to make eye contact with these individuals. I generally keep my nose in my book and sometimes put on some earphones to discourage people from chatting me up. This may sound extreme and not very nice, but it's how I feel.

Some of the people I've encountered on TRAX have bad etiquette and then there are others that just have social or mental issues, I think. I've encountered belligerent homeless youth; kids playing rap music at full volume with no consideration for their neighbors; people having extremely loud conversations, often with a lot of profanity; the guy who tried to pick a fight with someone who accidentally bumped him, etc. These people I have little patience for.

But there are those that are just socially awkward or, in some cases, mentally-challenged. There was the mentally-challenged man sitting directly behind me who half-sang the same eight bars of music from Murray to Salt Lake, pausing only once to admire a policeman's name tag; there was the socially-awkward woman who was trying to strike up a conversation with anyone who would listen to her; there was a 16 or 17-year-old kid who was probably autistic or had Asbergers Disease, didn't make eye contact and was solely interested in technology (he told me everything a person could possibly want to know about my cellphone - smart kid; just a little different); the guy who kept humming really loudly to himself, etc.

And as I see these individuals, both the one who are purposefully obnoxious and the ones who can be annoying without intending to be, it strikes me that God knows the minds and hearts of each of these people. He knows their specific needs and situations. He knows with a perfect knowledge what each one of them is going through and has gone through. And He loves each one of them as much as He loves you or me. And as this awareness comes over me, I feel bad that I am less willing to get to know my fellow members of the human race.

My initial response when I see someone who is a bit strange or different than what I'm used to is "Please don't talk to me!" and then when they do, my first instinct is to put them off because I feel annoyed. And yet, isn't it our job as members of the human race to try to love and support one another; to try and understand one another? Just because we encounter someone who is seemingly different than us, is that a reason to shun or ignore them? I've written about this theme before, both here and here. Differences can seem frightening or annoying, but sometimes if we open up our eyes and hearts, we can actually learn things from others that seem different to us.

I'm not suggesting we need to engage socio- or psychopaths or every crazy we meet. That might not be advisable. But I do think some of the people I encounter on TRAX are just lonely and yearn for a listening ear. Others are people who have something to teach or offer me if I will only give them a chance to enter my heart.

For example, the autistic kid engaged me in conversation about cell phones and gaming systems (neither of which I was remotely interested in), but there was a sweetness in him that reminded me he is my brother; he is a child of God; and he is just as loved and needed as any of us. He reminded me that we are all members of the human family and we should help each other instead of ignoring each other. While I found his actual conversation boring, I actually desired to know more about him as a person.

We live in this age where we tune each other out with our IPods and earphone and computers and music and cellphones. We don't know our neighbors and don't really desire to. We text or Facebook each other even though we're mere feet away from each other. We don't engage one another. We look the other way when a fellow human being is in need. My adventures on TRAX are trying to teach me to be more receptive to those around me.

This is not easy for me. I like tuning people out. I don't often want to "get to know" my fellow man. But I'm glad public transportation is helping me be a little more open to being more connected with my fellow humans. I still have a long way to go, but I'm trying to work on it.

Feeling Blue

By nature, I am generally a pretty upbeat, optimistic person. I don't get depressed very often. I have, however, been feeling a bit blue the past couple of days for a number of reasons.

I miss my husband and cats terribly. Since we had our commitment ceremony, I've actually spent more time away from my husband than I have with him due to my job. It's great to be employed doing what I enjoy for a living, but it is hard to be away from the guy I love and our "children." I was able to be with him for two months, the longest consecutive time we've been together since we had our ceremony, and that was really nice. We talk almost every single day, so it's good that we keep up an active communication, but of course it isn't the same as actually being together.

I also feel a bit of guilt that I'm missing out on that time with my spouse and our pets; time that we can never get back. Furthermore, one of our cats is particularly attached to me, and my absences have been really hard on her. She acts out whenever we leave and Jonah can tell she's depressed and anxious, and I feel it is my fault. It's even harder because I can't exactly explain to my cat, whom I love very much, why I keep abandoning her for months at a time. At least Jonah understands my reasons. My poor cat doesn't understand at all, and it hurts me to see her so upset by my absences.

I've also been depressed by my mother's memory loss. It isn't her fault; it's just part of her aging process, but it has been hard for me to watch her age. I'm sure it's equally frustrating for her as well. It's never easy to watch one's parents get older. My dad suffered several strokes that left him physically challenged and changed his personality. It wasn't always bad, but it was hard to watch a once vibrant man be struck down by his physical mortality.

Mom is doing well physically, but her short-term memory is pretty much shot, and I've noticed her sense of awareness is less sharp than it once was, and things confuse her more easily than they used to. Even parts of her long-term memory are not as reliable as they once were. She's been diagnosed with dementia, but happily, not Alzheimer's. She's still able to care for herself independently, but my siblings and I do worry that a day will come when she is not able to do so. When I'm working in Utah, I live with my mom, so I'm exposed to it most often, and it's just challenging sometimes. I admit, too, that I am not always as patient with my mother's mental challenges as I ought to be, and that makes me feel bad.

My mom is one of my very best friends, and I just want to know that she is well and taken care of. I also never want her to feel that she is a burden in any way because she isn't.

I've been feeling a bit stressed by other things as well - nothing of import, but I've just felt a bit agitated lately, and I'm not sure why.

I'm in rehearsals for a great show, and it's coming along very well, and is even a fun piece, but the last couple of days it has just felt more like a job to me than theatre normally makes me feel. I just miss that feeling of creating a piece of art with passion rather than just "grinding out the meat" to pay the bills. I wish I was feeling the enthusiasm I often feel when I do theatre, and it's strange that I don't because this is even a show I was really excited to be cast in.

Anyway, I'm sure it's all just a phase. I anticipate I'll bounce back again pretty soon. I always do.

Refreshing

It's a nice to see a Republican politician (or former politician) saying things that make sense to me as far as social policies are concerned. Helps remind me that there are, indeed, people in the Republican party who actually feel the same way I do about certain social issues.

Amusing (To Me, At Least)

Every time I pass this building in Salt Lake City, I smile:



This is a nightclub called Club Bliss (previously called The Bay). The reason that it makes me smile is that when I was a little boy, it used to be the insurance company where my dad worked. I actually have fond memories of it, though at the time it was in a sketchy part of town. Sometimes we would pick my dad up, and in his break room, there was a soda machine (the kind with bottles), and sometimes Dad would get me a Fanta Red Cream Soda.

It was a relatively small building, and later in my childhood, the company moved to another, much larger, building.

I guess what makes me laugh is the fact that this stodgy, very serious company was housed in a building that now houses a probably more vibrant, energetic nightclub. It just makes me laugh. I doubt that my father or his coworkers would ever have imagined that the place of their business would become a nightclub.

It just amuses me.

Why Do I Seem Happy? I'll Tell You.

I was browsing through a Deseret Book catalogue my mom received in the mail, and there was an advertisement for a teen-oriented book called Why? Powerful Answers and Practical Reasons for Living LDS Standards. The description talked about how the book delves into certain questions teens should ask themselves and answers that support the Church's stance on certain issues. It gave examples of some of the questions, such as "Why shouldn't I just 'try' alcohol, just to see what it tastes like?" or "Why is wearing two pairs of earrings such a big deal? Or is it?"

One question intrigued me: "Why do some people who break the commandments appear happy?" I thought to myself, "Maybe it's because they are." According to LDS Church doctrine, I am breaking pretty serious commandments by being in a sexual relationship with my partner, yet I can assure you, I am not unhappy. In fact, since I found Jonah and came out, I have been happier than I've been in a long time. Believe you me, I am not deluded or fooling myself. I am truly happy.

As I was sitting in church today the thought occurred to me that if my bishop (former bishop, I guess I should say) were to come up to me and ask me if I wanted to take steps to rejoin the church again, I would say that if it meant giving up my relationship with Jonah, not a chance! NOT. A. CHANCE.

It's funny how I was always taught that following the precepts of Mormonism would bring me a fullness of joy and happiness, yet it was choosing something that I was taught was wicked (my relationship with Jonah) that actually has given me that. I wouldn't give that up. If there are those who believe that means I'm choosing Jonah over God, so be it, but I do not see it that way at all. To my eyes, I have chosen both.

I still love many things about Mormonism and, as you can see, I still attend a Mormon ward pretty regularly. I also feel like I still get a lot out of attending the LDS Church. But my relationship with Jonah has brought me so much happiness, joy, and fulfillment, and coming out of the closet has given me so much peace of mind, comfort, sanity, and freedom, I just don't think I could give that up.

Why do I appear happy?

Because I am. I truly am.

Goodbye, Old Friend

I'm back in Utah again after a lovely two months with Jonah. Sadly, I will be away from him for five months (give or take a few days of visits) for work.

Just before I came back to Utah, my neighbor across the street posted on her Facebook page that a man I have known all my life, who lived in the ward where I grew up even before my parents moved in, had passed away. This news was not exactly shocking. Just before I left two months ago, I distinctly remember looking at him as he was walking down the aisle to his seat and thinking, "Brother Walgreen is looking really frail these days." I remember feeling a sense of sadness because Brother Walgreen had never been a frail individual as long as I knew him, and it made me kind of sad that old age was finally having an adverse effect on him.

I guess his last few months had involved quite a bit of pain and suffering, but true to his nature, he always tried to have a smile on his face.

While not shocked by his death, I am saddened. Don't get me wrong; he lived a long and worthwhile life, and after so much pain in his last months, it was good that he and his family could be released from his suffering. It was his time to go.

No, what makes me sad is that there is one less beautiful spirit in the world, and a vital piece of the ward I grew up in is no longer there. Brother Walgreen was truly one of the best human beings I have ever known. He was a giant (figuratively and literally) among men, and this world really is the poorer with him not in it.

He had the greatest heart and was so interested in the lives of those around him. He was always asking me what I was up to (and not in the superficial way that most people are, including myself; he genuinely wanted to know about me and my life, and that was true of his relationships with just about everyone he knew). He was always quick to write you a personal note and mail it to you or give you a phone call if you had done something that particularly touched him. I remember receiving such calls and notes after giving a talk in church or singing or if an article ran in the paper about some show I was in. And again, when he gave you these compliments, it always felt so genuine; he wasn't just being nice - he was genuinely touched or interested.

He served as a bishop when I was growing up, and my bishop when my older brother and sister both went on missions. At his viewing there was a book of remembrance he had made that included pictures and personal notes from all the missionaries that had served during his tenure as bishop. My brother and sister were in there, of course. When I saw that book, so lovingly assembled, I thought that this was exactly the kind of thing he would do.

He served faithfully in his church callings and cared deeply about people. He served his country in World War II. He was such a good, good man. That whole moniker of "The Greatest Generation" describes his wife and him to a tee.

I loved him dearly, and my mom's ward (which I still consider my home ward) will never be the same without him. The world has lost a great, great man, and I cannot stress that enough. Brother Walgreen is celestial material by far. If someone like him can't make it to the Celestial Kingdom, there is no hope for the rest of us.

I will miss him very much and look forward to the day when I will see him again in the afterlife. He has left such an indelible print on my life.

Thanks, old friend!

The Secret Lives Of Cats

Let me preface this post by saying that Jonah and I are weird.

Jonah and I have three cats, each with a very distinct personality. Our oldest, Trooper, is a nurturing, sensitive cat. She is maternal and needs and desires a lot of affection. She likes me a lot even though she was originally Jonah's cat. If she were a human being, I would say she would be our good child - studious, getting good grades, helping around the house, taking care of the the other two kids while we're out, dependable, etc.

Blondie is our second oldest (and Trooper's daughter). She is moody and sullen. She personifies the stereotypical middle child. She, too, needs attention, but tends to be a loner. It takes a lot to get Blondie to purr. She used to not like me, and I think she resented that anybody lived in the house besides her and Jonah, but she's mellowed and warmed up since I moved in. If she were human, she would be the rebellious child that stays holed up in her room listening to heavy metal music. She would break curfew and not do well in school. She would probably whine about how hard her life is (even though it isn't) and complain to us about how other parents let their kids do the things she wants to do.

Chaplin (or Chappy) is our youngest. She has boundless energy and seems to be afraid of nothing. She is a bit of a daredevil and always wants our attention, but never wants to be held. She's extremely curious and mischievous. She's always on-the-go. If she were human, she would be the young kid that's always yelling, "Dad, watch me do this! Dad, watch me!" She would constantly be getting into things and would be our hyperactive child.

Jonah and I play this game where we imagine our three cats have a nightclub act they do when we are away. As soon as we leave the house, they call all their cat friends and set up tables and a stage and perform cabaret numbers. We imagine that Trooper is the leader of the group, but that Blondie has secret machinations going on to figure out how to steal her spot or, even more daring, go solo.

We like to imagine the three of them singing "You Could Drive a Person Crazy" from Company. We imagine Blondie sitting backwards on a chair with a blue spot on her singing "Falling in Love Again" a la Marlene Dietrich or singing "And I Am Telling You" from Dreamgirls.

Trooper likes more traditional music while Chappy is trying to bring more edgy stuff into the act. Sometimes when we hear a particular song on the radio, we try to imagine which cat would sing it. Just yesterday we heard "I'm Almost Over You" by Sheena Easton (Blondie) and "Born This Way" by Lady Gaga (definitely Chappy).

This endlessly entertains us and we're always cracking up about it. I don't know why we think it's so funny.

And then, of course, we come home, and the cats are about their usual business, never suspecting that we know about their secret show business life.

No Glee For "Glee"

I should like "Glee." I really should. I love music. I love musicals. I enjoy pop music. I like musical numbers and ones that are well-sung. I was in show choirs. The show celebrates diversity, of which I am a fan. And it seems like "Glee" appeals to a number of gay people, and I am, after all, gay. But I just can't seem to get aboard the "Glee" train. I've tried to board several times, and I just don't seem to connect with the show.

I've tried watching a few episodes, and I've seen clips of musical numbers from the show. While I appreciate the hard work that obviously goes into the show and the talents of those involved, ultimately the show is just too cheesy for my tastes. I find the writing to be a bit weak, and although the show tries to create three-dimensional characters, they more often than not, come off as very two-dimensional and more like stereotypes than real people. Granted, I'm basing this assessment on the few episodes and clips I have seen.

I want to like the show. But I don't. That being said, I am glad people do enjoy it and that it brings them happiness. I'm also grateful for a show, whether I personally enjoy it or not, that celebrates music and dance and tries in its best way to deal with current social issues. I'm glad it's popular. It's just not my cup of tea. My apologies to any Gleeks out there.

Those In Need Of A Helping Hand

I had a strangely moving experience yesterday. I'm not one to cry easily, but for some reason this one really touched my heart and caused me to sob for a good five minutes.

Jonah and I were picking up some things at Home Depot, and this black man tentatively approached me as we were getting into Jonah's truck. The man had an enormous stutter and started off by telling me he meant me no harm and that he had approached several people, all of whom were afraid of him and thought he meant to do them harm. He struggled to get his words out and explained that he had a speech impediment. He was trying to tell me what his problem was and really got hung up on some words. He seemed panicked, embarrassed, and desperate. I told him to calm down and just take his time.

Basically, the gist of his situation was that he needed bus fare to get home. I asked him how much he needed. He thought he needed about $1.40 to meet his $2.00 bus fare. I had enough change in my pocket to accommodate him and asked him if he needed more. He said he did not and tears were welling up in his eyes as he thanked me and said, "God bless you." I replied, "Hey, we all have to help each other, right?" He was crying as we walked away, so thankful for what for me was a very small gesture. It broke my heart.

As I got into the truck, I broke down and just started bawling. I was amazed at how deeply this man's predicament and desperation had affected me. What struck me most about this man was how sincere he seemed. It was like I was able to peer into this man's very heart and see that his intentions were pure; that he was simply a man in a bad situation who hadn't been able to get anyone to help him out. I know there are a lot of shysters out there, but I am absolutely convinced this man was telling the truth and was simply desperate to get bus fare home. How he got in this situation I do not know, but I do know he felt helpless and misunderstood and just wanted to go home and that people had been afraid of him because of his manner and had, therefore, been unwilling to help him out. I felt deep in my spirit that this man was a good man in a difficult situation, and I was thankful that my small contribution was able to help him out of his bind.

I admit that when he approached me, my first reaction was to say, "Sorry, man, I can't help you out, whatever it is you need," but within seconds of his talking, my heart softened and I knew I needed to help him.

It took me a long time to recover. He had touched my spirit so deeply that the tears would not stop. It just reaffirmed my desire to help my fellow man when he needs help. And there are so many out there who are in desperate need of help, and if we can help them, we should. Often, it's the smallest thing that makes the biggest difference. My heart just ached for all the souls out there who are in need of help, and how we often (myself included) are too busy or too preoccupied or too judgmental to lend a hand when we can.

It reminds me of an experience I had this past summer. As I was driving home from work, I saw a young teenager at the freeway exit holding a sign that said something akin to "anything you can do to help would be appreciated." Now I've seen homeless guys at freeway exits before and didn't think much of it, but this kid really made me think twice. I actually ignored him the first day I saw him, but he lingered in my head, and I promised if I saw him again, I would do something to help him.

The next day he was there again, and I drove to McDonald's and got some food and then came back and gave it to him along with some money. He thanked me and said "God bless you," and I felt he was sincere. I really felt prompted to ask him how he got here and if there was anything else I could do to help. I keenly felt he needed a listening ear. Sadly, I did not heed those promptings. I always wish I had.

I saw him one more time after that and then never saw him again. I assume he moved on. But I wonder where he is and if he's in a better or worse place than he was when I last saw him. I'll likely never know, but I'm glad God knows each of his children and where they are and what they are in need of. I just hope we can all follow the promptings we get from the Lord when we're asked to help one of our brothers or sisters.

Tacky?

So on my aforementioned visit to Calico, I saw the following plaque in a gift shop:



In case you can't see it clearly, it's Jesus on a crucifix, and it says, "I asked Jesus 'How much do You love me?' 'This much,' He answered. Then He stretched out his arms and died."

While I understand (and can even appreciate) the sentiment, there was something about it that just seems weird and tacky to me. Maybe it's just me (although Jonah thought it was weird, too).

It kind of reminds me of this time I went to the Festival of Trees during the holidays. One of the trees had a black and white sketch of a family with Jesus. That doesn't sound too bad, does it? What made it tacky to me was that whoever had drawn the picture had most likely taken a formal studio portrait family photo and sketched it and then drew Jesus in the background, so it made it look like Jesus and this family had had their picture taken together at Sears or something.

Again, while I can appreciate the sentiment of a family having Jesus so closely in their lives that He is always present with them, even when they're getting a family photo taken at the JC Penney Portrait Studio, something about the picture just made it come off really tacky.

So what do you guys think?

A Fun Diversion

I sometimes drive to Los Angeles to audition for various shows, and every time I make the drive to and from my home, I pass an exit near Barstow, California called Ghost Town Road. There are billboards going both ways advertising the ghost town of Calico, a ghost town that was founded in 1881 as a silver mining town and completely died down in 1907.



Anyway, every time I pass the signs advertising this ghost town, I want to check it out. However, I'm usually in a rush to either get to L.A. for my auditions or to get back home, so I never stop.

Yesterday morning I had an audition for Mamma Mia. The audition itself didn't go as well as I would have liked, but them's the breaks, ain't they?

In any case, I got out of L.A. quite early, and as I was driving, I thought to myself, "Today's the day. I am going to check out this ghost town." I called Jonah, who was still back home, and told him I wouldn't get home until later because I was going to check out the town.

The town itself is only three miles off the freeway, so it wasn't too far to get to. I had no idea what to expect. In my mind, I didn't necessarily picture the town as a big tourist attraction, but more as the lonely remnants of a town that once existed. It actually turned out to be more the former than the latter.

It cost $6 to get in, which seemed reasonable enough. It turns out that most of the town has been replicated from photos of its original structures, so there aren't that many buildings that are actually the original buildings (and even less, I found out, since a fire in 2001 took out some of the original structures); but, still, there are some original buildings (five, I think).

I discovered that 1951, Walter Knott (the founder of Knott's Berry Farm Amusement Park in Anahiem) bought the town and restored it to its original condition using old photographs of the town. In most cases, replica building were built on the foundations of the original buildings.

Still, even if a lot of it was just replicated, it was still a lot of fun. And it was such a nice day (sunny with a bit of a breeze - lovely!). The town was filled with shops, a museum, and some cheesy attractions (such as panning for fake gold, going through a mine, and a train ride). But it was very enjoyable, and I spent a good hour and a half there.

I bought some horehound candy (which I've had before and quite like (Jonah is not a fan)) and walked around the town. There was a cool replica of the original schoolhouse. I talked to one lady who gave me quite an interesting history lesson about the town and some of its inhabitants (its last original resident died in the 1967, but she had lived in the town from the age of ten; left in 1899; and then returned in 1916 when the town was a true ghost town and still lived there when the town was turned into a tourist attraction and often shared stories from when she lived there as a little girl. I thought that must have been quite marvelous to hear a firsthand account of life in a mining town in the late 1800s.

I helped the proprietor of a store that sold wooden items, including puzzles, solve a puzzle a friend of hers had given her. She was so frustrated by it, but I saw the solution pretty quickly, and she was so grateful I had figured it out for her that she gave me a free item called an "idiot box." I thought that was nice of her.

A ranger was giving tours and pointing out interesting sites. There was also a really nice scenic point that overlooked the whole town. It was really interesting and a lot of fun, and I was so glad I had finally taken the time to do it. My only regret was that Jonah wasn't with me. I think he would have enjoyed it, too.

Sometimes you just gotta take a diversion. This one was worth it to me. I had a very fun day.

Horchata - Elixir Of The Gods

I'm not sure if I've ever mentioned it, but Jonah is Hispanic. A popular drink in his culture is horchata. If you don't know what horchata is (I didn't), it's a rice-based drink with cinnamon in it. Jonah and I were at a Mexican restaurant a few months ago, and he told me I ought to try it. So I did.

OH! MY! GOSH! BEST! DRINK! EVER!!!!

How can I describe it? It kind of tastes like a liquid form of rice pudding or custard or tapioca (all of which I love). I can't really explain it. I just know it's delicious.

Trouble is, now I'm addicted to it. (That's all I need. I'm already addicted to ice cream.) And horchata is not the cheapest of beverages. Now I'm drinking it like water. I can go through a half gallon in a day if I'm not careful.

Even worse, it's fattening. (Of course it is! Everything I love to eat or drink is fattening.)

Anyway, I've gotta be careful. I'm already turning into a blimp. I've gained at least ten pounds since I've been home with Jonah. (Sidenote: I ran up and down our stairs tonight to get some exercise and discovered just how incredibly out of shape I am. I thought I was going to die!)

Anyway, I thank Jonah very much for introducing me to horchata and also curse him forever for introducing me to horchata.

:-)