A Tribute

Although many have already been posted, I feel compelled to add this short tribute to little Daxton Douglas Kunz, who returned to his Heavenly Father on Monday, June 9, 2008. God speed, little guy. May your short time in this life continue to uplift and inspire.

Debating counsel from leaders. I wonder sometimes if there are those that spend too much time picking apart the words of the Church leaders. I wonder what value there is in looking for the meanings behind the meanings. I wonder if there isn’t at least a slight bit of danger trying to “read between the lines.” I wonder if in such situations, folks aren’t just trying to justify their own, contrary positions. Not totally unrelated, I wonder if some folks rely too much on the positions of their peers, simply because they (the peers) are outspoken, well-spoken, or both. Sometimes I think people confuse education with authority. The ability to clearly express oneself doesn’t make one an authority on a subject, nor for that matter even a reliable source on a subject.

Love, tolerance and acceptance: I think that too often as a society we interpret the commandment to love one another as a commandment to be tolerant or accepting of one another or, more precisely, with a commandment to be tolerant and accepting of otherwise unacceptable behavior. I say ENOUGH ALREADY! It’s long past time for people to take a stand against unacceptable behavior. One only need look back over recent history to realize that the more society tolerates unacceptable behavior the more acceptable that behavior becomes and consequently, the more base we become as a society.

Expressed another way, think of a scale from 1 to 10, with one being the most crime-free society or the most utopian society and 10 being the worst. Let each of the numbers in between represent whatever behaviors you wish them to represent, so long as the behavior associated with each number becomes increasingly worse as the number increases. One doesn’t have to think about it very long to realize that as our utopian society becomes more tolerant and more accepting of behavior number 2, behavior number 3 starts looking better or at the very least “less bad.” Such continues to be the case as we move up the scale.

I say again, a command to love another is not, in my humble opinion, a command to tolerate another’s unacceptable behavior.

Discrimination. I’m about to the point that if I hear someone else claim they’ve been discriminated against because society won’t accept their behavior as “normal”, I may give them a discrimination 2 x 4 upside the head. The whole argument is so nearly absurd as to be unworthy of discussion. I’m not talking about legitimate claims of discrimination because of race, religion, sex (male vs female) or age. I’m talking about those who feel they are “entitled” to some societal benefit despite the fact that they haven’t complied with the requirements for obtaining that benefit. Rather than conforming to what is acceptable, they wish the rest of us to accept their alternative positions and bestow upon them their “rights.” What a load of crap.

A new post

More than one person has commented to me lately about the lack of recent posts to my blog. I'm never sure how to respond to those comments, except to say that I can't understand where people find so much time to spend blogging. (I'm not even sure if that's the right word.) I mean seriously, where in the world do folks find the time to write page after page after page in some of these posts? It baffles me and makes me think that somewhere along the way, I must have missed some time-management exercise. Either that or I just have too many other things to do to worry about my blog.

Carey and I made a recent trip to Havasupai with many friends, some of whom we have known for a long time, others, not so long. I'm still trying to search for the right adjectives to describe how I felt about the trip. Those of you who were with us (and those who've heard details of the experience) will understand what I mean. Will I go again? You bet. It's hard to pass up an opportunity to strengthen bonds with friends and I can't think of a better place to do that.

As a short summary of my feelings regarding the trip, let me just say, Alisa & Jason, I admire you both. Doug and Brittany, you are MY heroes. May God bless, sustain and comfort both of you.

Salamanca

When I served my mission in Spain, I spent the most time in one city, Salamanca. I served my first four months and my final seven months in that great city. I think I came to know Salamanca and it's people better than most missionaries came to know any one particular city, simply due to the amount of time I was there.

To say that I loved and still love Salamanca is an understatement. For me, that city represents everything that I love about Spain: the people, the history, the language, the food.... there isn't anything that I don't like. I have wonderful memories of certain parts of the city: the Plaza Mayor, the old and new cathedrals, the university, the Casa de Conchas, the Puente Romano (Roman bridge), the apartment building we lived in, the parks and streets we walked daily and where we made contact with so many interesting people.

This is a picture of me sitting on one of the support structures for the Puente Romano. I think it was taken during my second time in Salamanca, so it would have been somewhere in the second half of 1986. I think from the picture you can begin to get some idea of the greatness of the city, with the old and new cathedrals in the background. (You can also see I was quite a bit younger then.) Que guapo! One of the things I wanted to do on my return visit to Salamanca was to get a photo from the same perspective. You can see that a little further down in this post.


We arrived in Salamanca on Sunday afternoon. After checking into the hotel, one of the first things we did was to drive to my old apartment building. I'm sure it wasn't very exciting for Carey, Russell or Janelle, but they were good enough to indulge me this trip down memory lane.

La Calle Federico Anaya, 88, 8-A. That was the street address we were looking for. Didn't take too long to find it. At first it didn't seem all that familiar, but after I imagined the trees a little smaller, the familiarity began to show through. We parked a hundred yards or so down the street and as we were walking toward the building, I wondered if any of the people we were passing were folks that I made contact with years ago.


The front door to the building was slightly open, so the four of us went in. We all crammed into the elevator. Elevators in Spain are notoriously small; we wouldn't have been able to fit a fifth person in with us. We rode to the eighth floor and got off. I felt at home, but I think Carey, Russ and Janelle were a little uncomfortable standing there, uninvited, on the landing common to four different apartments. I had Russ take a picture of me standing in front of apartment "A", which is where I lived so long ago. I don't remember the door being a nice as it is now.

Since the others were a little nervous, we hopped back on the elevator and rode it down and went back out onto the sidewalk. For some reason, I decided to ring the buzzer on the panel at the front door to the building, just to see if anyone in the old apartment would answer. A nice-sounding Spanish lady answered. I asked her if she would open the door for me and let me in. She asked who I was, and I told her that I was a missionary for the Mormon Church. She hesitated a bit and said she wasn't sure if she should (open the door for me). Almost apologetically, she asked if I understood. I assured her that I did and it was ok. Russ, who by this time had put a little distance between himself and me, was a little embarrassed, but oh well, I had fun speaking Spanish and remembering the good old days. No harm done.

We got ourselves back in the car and went back toward the center of the city and found a place to park for awhile. That evening, we spent some time in the Plaza Mayor, (great, or main, plaza). This, too, brought back a lot of memories for me. I can't begin to count the number of times that I passed through the plaza during my time in Salamanca. It almost seemed surreal to be there again.

Over the next 24 hours, we took in many of the sites. We spent some time touring the cathedral. They've opened up some new sections for tours since my time there. The cathedrals and other old buildings have always impressed me. It's amazing to see the kind of works that could be created so many centuries ago, before computers and modern machinery. The photo to the left is one of Carey and I on top of the old (or maybe the new) cathedral. Quite impressive.

Here is the picture of me sitting on one of the supports for the Roman bridge, with the cathedrals in the background. You can see that much has changed over the years, not the least of which is the fact that I've clearly gotten older. I don't feel older, but good grief....

Salamanca. If you ever go to Spain, it's a must-see city.

Espana - A return to the mother land.

Some of you may know that this past Sunday night, I returned from an incredible trip to Spain, which I made with my wife, my youngest brother, Russell, and our dear friend, Janelle. The trip was, in a word, awesome. For me it represented a dream over 21 years in the making. To be able to finally return to the land of my mission (and Russell, to his) after all this time.... well, frankly, in some ways it seems like it was a dream. I can't believe we actually went. I've thought about it for years and, since Russ returned, talked about it for almost as many.

Thanks to Russ' persuasion and to the willingness of family and friends to step in and help with kids and many other little things that would have provided a million reasons not to go, we took the plunge and made the trip. As I said already, it was awesome. I regret nothing about it. Yes, there were things that could have gone a little more smoothly and, if the dollar were a little stronger, a bit less costly, but I regret nothing.

Time permitting, and as a long-passed work associate used to say "God willing and the creek don't rise", I hope to post some of our experiences in written form. Until then, I leave you with one of the many moments of lightheartedness we enjoyed. While in Barcelona, we explored the Park Guell. The park was commissioned by Eusebi Guell, who wanted a prime location for the high class of the city to enjoy. Guell commissioned Antoni Gaudi to create the park. Guadi usually did not have the means (money or materials) to create the works he envisioned. It happened that Guell had both the land and the money, so the two were a perfect match.

I think we explored practically the whole 50 acre park. There were a lot of beautiful and interesting creations to look at and explore. Imagine our suprise, however, when we actually came upon Gaudi, resting from his labors. We were careful not to disturb him, although Janelle insisted on getting a photo with him. This is the best we could do, since he was asleep and all.