Nice Guys Finish Last
Back in the early days of high school, I loved watching "The Mask", starring Jim Carrey. In it, he mentions a book or newspaper article (I can't remember which now, and frankly, it's not relevant anyway) he wrote entitled "Nice Guys Finish Last". How true that title rings in my ears and in my life!
Let me tell you a simple story: There once was a man who had a piece of coal. One day a good friend of his came by to visit. He told the man how he was in search of a precious diamond of great worth. The man told his friend, "I have here a piece of coal I have been holding for a while now. It has the capacity of becoming a diamond. I know not the means of turning it into a diamond. However, you are my friend. Therefore, I will give you this piece of coal." At first, the friend objected; yet, the man insisted. So the friend took the coal, thanked him and went on his way.
After many days the friend came back and showed the man the diamond. The man was happy for his friend, yet deep down inside he regreted the chance of having something of great worth, which could have been his.
Sunday, October 15, 2006
Friday, October 06, 2006
Eine Erinnerung an Deutschland
I've always loved the fall. The cool, heavy, damp air. The barren trees. The bland colors. The reds, oranges, and yellows of leaves on the streets and lawns, as they silently fall from branches above. The pumpkins on porches. The autumn breeze that twirls in gusts. The clothing and jackets. The gray, low-lying clouds. I love everything about fall! Now, ever since I've been back from Germany, fall seems to have much more meaning to me, at least here in Provo, Utah. The weather and feelings of fall remind me of fall in Germany.
I don't know what it is about Germany, but when I lived there, I always felt claustrophobic. It always seemed like the sky was falling on you and everything was trying to squeeze in on you. Coming from Texas, I'm used to the openness of everything. The sky seems far up there. The land is flat and broad. Houses and buildings are spread out. Everything is open. In Germany, it's the exact opposite. And I feel that way in the fall.
It's interesting how certain situations will give you those nostalgic feelings that bring back memories. For example, whenever I listen to Green Day's Nimrod CD, I think of my junior year in high school, in the basement of our house, working out on the bench; because everytime I worked out I listened to Green Day's CD, since it was about 45 minutes. During the summer, when days would turn especially hot and humid, I think of my summer a year ago, when I was outside, selling pest control; because it was always hot and humid. Those are just a couple of examples. The same holds true with the feelings of autumn. They conjure up a nostalgia that transports me back in Germany. On top of that, I'm taking a business German class this semester, where we are constantly speaking in the German tongue. Have you ever been somewhere or had an experience in the past that seemed "once in a life-time" and you loved it so much, that you wish you could relive it? That's how I've felt since I came back from Germany; however, with fall being here AND taking this German class, those feelings are stronger than ever. Memories flash in the front of mind of walking down the Fußgängerzone, passing small shops and clothing stores, crossing cobble-stone streets. I think of the Weihnachtsmarkt in Mannheim, drinking Kinderpunch. I picture myself in the Bahnhof, eating a Nutella-banana crepe, as I wait for the train to Kaiserslautern or Heidelberg. I miss the Döner Kebab! I often imagine being in an ICE again, traveling from Duisburg to Frankfurt. Frankfurt! I loved the crazies out in the Marktplatz at Hauptwache und Konstablerwache. I miss the clothing and the pointy "elf" shoes the German city women would wear in the winter time. I remember the people I met, served, befriended, and came to love. I miss the culture, the food, the houses. I miss how it all felt medieval and modern at the same time. I miss the way people would look at me funny on the street, when I would ask them how they were doing. I miss their brutal honesty. Overall, I miss the experience of Germany.
It's like a dream that became real, but then you wake up and find yourself back home. You try to go back to sleep and have that same dream again, starting where you left off, hoping that those feelings and that the reality of it will come back. But it doesn't. These images inside my head seem to be the imaginations of a distant fantasy world. Then, one plane flight obscures the intense feelings of how tangible that experience was and turns it all into surreal thoughts and mental pictures, transparent and off-focus. You get off the plane back home and it's like leaving the magical world of Narnia and finding yourself back in the wardrobe of an old man's house.
And so each falling leaf in autumn represents a memory of the Vaterland. Each passing gust of wind is an emotion that swells inside my soul - a yearning to go back and relive a dream of once was. And in each sigh and thought is the ever-growing determination to fulfill that dream to return to a people and culture I grew to love - a place, in which I lost my heart. Einigkeit und Recht und Freiheit für das deutsche Vaterland!
I've always loved the fall. The cool, heavy, damp air. The barren trees. The bland colors. The reds, oranges, and yellows of leaves on the streets and lawns, as they silently fall from branches above. The pumpkins on porches. The autumn breeze that twirls in gusts. The clothing and jackets. The gray, low-lying clouds. I love everything about fall! Now, ever since I've been back from Germany, fall seems to have much more meaning to me, at least here in Provo, Utah. The weather and feelings of fall remind me of fall in Germany.
I don't know what it is about Germany, but when I lived there, I always felt claustrophobic. It always seemed like the sky was falling on you and everything was trying to squeeze in on you. Coming from Texas, I'm used to the openness of everything. The sky seems far up there. The land is flat and broad. Houses and buildings are spread out. Everything is open. In Germany, it's the exact opposite. And I feel that way in the fall.
It's interesting how certain situations will give you those nostalgic feelings that bring back memories. For example, whenever I listen to Green Day's Nimrod CD, I think of my junior year in high school, in the basement of our house, working out on the bench; because everytime I worked out I listened to Green Day's CD, since it was about 45 minutes. During the summer, when days would turn especially hot and humid, I think of my summer a year ago, when I was outside, selling pest control; because it was always hot and humid. Those are just a couple of examples. The same holds true with the feelings of autumn. They conjure up a nostalgia that transports me back in Germany. On top of that, I'm taking a business German class this semester, where we are constantly speaking in the German tongue. Have you ever been somewhere or had an experience in the past that seemed "once in a life-time" and you loved it so much, that you wish you could relive it? That's how I've felt since I came back from Germany; however, with fall being here AND taking this German class, those feelings are stronger than ever. Memories flash in the front of mind of walking down the Fußgängerzone, passing small shops and clothing stores, crossing cobble-stone streets. I think of the Weihnachtsmarkt in Mannheim, drinking Kinderpunch. I picture myself in the Bahnhof, eating a Nutella-banana crepe, as I wait for the train to Kaiserslautern or Heidelberg. I miss the Döner Kebab! I often imagine being in an ICE again, traveling from Duisburg to Frankfurt. Frankfurt! I loved the crazies out in the Marktplatz at Hauptwache und Konstablerwache. I miss the clothing and the pointy "elf" shoes the German city women would wear in the winter time. I remember the people I met, served, befriended, and came to love. I miss the culture, the food, the houses. I miss how it all felt medieval and modern at the same time. I miss the way people would look at me funny on the street, when I would ask them how they were doing. I miss their brutal honesty. Overall, I miss the experience of Germany.
It's like a dream that became real, but then you wake up and find yourself back home. You try to go back to sleep and have that same dream again, starting where you left off, hoping that those feelings and that the reality of it will come back. But it doesn't. These images inside my head seem to be the imaginations of a distant fantasy world. Then, one plane flight obscures the intense feelings of how tangible that experience was and turns it all into surreal thoughts and mental pictures, transparent and off-focus. You get off the plane back home and it's like leaving the magical world of Narnia and finding yourself back in the wardrobe of an old man's house.
And so each falling leaf in autumn represents a memory of the Vaterland. Each passing gust of wind is an emotion that swells inside my soul - a yearning to go back and relive a dream of once was. And in each sigh and thought is the ever-growing determination to fulfill that dream to return to a people and culture I grew to love - a place, in which I lost my heart. Einigkeit und Recht und Freiheit für das deutsche Vaterland!
Thursday, September 21, 2006
Fundamental Economics & Dating 101
Are you familiar with the phrase "opportunity cost"? It's one of those economic terms. According to one definition, it is "the value of the next best alternative that must be given up when a choice is made." For example, the opportunity cost of writing this entry is the sleep I could be getting right now (which I'm sure I'll regret in the morning when I wake up for classes).
Tonight, the thought occurred to me that dating is full of opportunity costs. It's been said that guys have a problem when dating; that it's often hard for us to get in a steady relationship with someone because we wonder if there's someone out there who might be a better match for us. While that may be true in certain instances (by the way, I think it holds true for many girls as well), I personally think it's mostly a devil's tool to keep us from making those progressive steps toward an eternal destination. But that's beside the point I'm attempting to make. The point I'm trying to make is, that as we make those desicions of who we want to date, we are making opportunity costs. In the competitive game we call "dating" many of us have our eyes on usually more than one person. We keep our lines out in the water, waiting for a snag. When we finally get one, and if it's the fish we desire, we reel in and put away the fishing poles. However, many times we analyze and wonder to ourselves, "Hmm, but I wonder if a better fish might come to one of the other poles." But how long until that fish finally breaks loose from the hook and leaves us still with nothing?
It's interesting how decisions affect outcomes of events and even relationships with other people. The decisions you make in one instant presents opportunity costs as well. For example, if you buy a meal at a fast food, you give up that much that could have gone toward a date or some other social event. Consequently, every decision you make brings a sacrifice and a loss of something, somehow. Dating holds to the same principle. I don't think there is one specific person out there you are supposed to marry. That is fate, or destiny, and that takes away our agency. The only fate or destiny I believe in is the kind that we create for ourselves through our choices.
Choices do create consequences and so it is with dating. As mentioned previously, there is not one specific person out there. There are many, I feel. This is where opportunity cost also comes in. With any of those "potential spouses" comes a kaleidoscope of experiences. If you were to marry one person, you would have different experiences than if you were to marry someone else. Not that a specific set of experiences would be better than another. It would be because the circumstances are different. You are still set out toward your eternal destination (hopefully for us all, that is to be with our Heavenly Father, since we should have righteous goals in sight). And so, when we choose to be with someone, the opportunity cost(s) is the choice of being with someone else that could have also been a great match. That choice, in turn, affects the outcome of our relationships with the other "potentials" around us, as well as the experiences we will have with them.
No pressure, right? I love economics and enjoy studying and analyzing relationships people have with others. I enjoy taking those kind of things and seeing how gospel principles intertwine in our everyday events and lives. Opportunity cost really is a gospel principle when you think about it. Choices and consequences are other gospel principles as well. But it's getting late and way past my bedtime, so those discussions will hold for another day. If this entry makes absolutely no sense, then you can count them for nothing but the ramblings of a sleep-deprived college student who is trying to make sense of the senseless world around him.
And thus I close this mini-dissertation: if there are those, whose life I've made a bit more troubling and stressful with "making the right decision", I offer these gentle words of comfort: you only have to be at the right place at the right time, making the right decisions. There. Now doesn't that put a load off?!
Are you familiar with the phrase "opportunity cost"? It's one of those economic terms. According to one definition, it is "the value of the next best alternative that must be given up when a choice is made." For example, the opportunity cost of writing this entry is the sleep I could be getting right now (which I'm sure I'll regret in the morning when I wake up for classes).
Tonight, the thought occurred to me that dating is full of opportunity costs. It's been said that guys have a problem when dating; that it's often hard for us to get in a steady relationship with someone because we wonder if there's someone out there who might be a better match for us. While that may be true in certain instances (by the way, I think it holds true for many girls as well), I personally think it's mostly a devil's tool to keep us from making those progressive steps toward an eternal destination. But that's beside the point I'm attempting to make. The point I'm trying to make is, that as we make those desicions of who we want to date, we are making opportunity costs. In the competitive game we call "dating" many of us have our eyes on usually more than one person. We keep our lines out in the water, waiting for a snag. When we finally get one, and if it's the fish we desire, we reel in and put away the fishing poles. However, many times we analyze and wonder to ourselves, "Hmm, but I wonder if a better fish might come to one of the other poles." But how long until that fish finally breaks loose from the hook and leaves us still with nothing?
It's interesting how decisions affect outcomes of events and even relationships with other people. The decisions you make in one instant presents opportunity costs as well. For example, if you buy a meal at a fast food, you give up that much that could have gone toward a date or some other social event. Consequently, every decision you make brings a sacrifice and a loss of something, somehow. Dating holds to the same principle. I don't think there is one specific person out there you are supposed to marry. That is fate, or destiny, and that takes away our agency. The only fate or destiny I believe in is the kind that we create for ourselves through our choices.
Choices do create consequences and so it is with dating. As mentioned previously, there is not one specific person out there. There are many, I feel. This is where opportunity cost also comes in. With any of those "potential spouses" comes a kaleidoscope of experiences. If you were to marry one person, you would have different experiences than if you were to marry someone else. Not that a specific set of experiences would be better than another. It would be because the circumstances are different. You are still set out toward your eternal destination (hopefully for us all, that is to be with our Heavenly Father, since we should have righteous goals in sight). And so, when we choose to be with someone, the opportunity cost(s) is the choice of being with someone else that could have also been a great match. That choice, in turn, affects the outcome of our relationships with the other "potentials" around us, as well as the experiences we will have with them.
No pressure, right? I love economics and enjoy studying and analyzing relationships people have with others. I enjoy taking those kind of things and seeing how gospel principles intertwine in our everyday events and lives. Opportunity cost really is a gospel principle when you think about it. Choices and consequences are other gospel principles as well. But it's getting late and way past my bedtime, so those discussions will hold for another day. If this entry makes absolutely no sense, then you can count them for nothing but the ramblings of a sleep-deprived college student who is trying to make sense of the senseless world around him.
And thus I close this mini-dissertation: if there are those, whose life I've made a bit more troubling and stressful with "making the right decision", I offer these gentle words of comfort: you only have to be at the right place at the right time, making the right decisions. There. Now doesn't that put a load off?!
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
A Thought or Two On Church Callings
During my mission (for those who don't know, I served a two-year mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, where I shared our beliefs about the gospel of Jesus Christ), I always wondered how I would be able maintain the Spirit when I got home. I always figured it was possible; otherwise it would have to contradict the whole plan of salvation, and God would then “cease to be God” (and He never will, so don’t worry); I just imagined it being really hard.
When you are on this side of the mission and take a step back, away from the grand picture, you see more clearly (or at least I do) how the mission (in all simplicity) was a calling that required magnifying. Please don’t misunderstand or misinterpret that previous sentence. I do not mean or intend to undervalue the mission. I do feel that the mission is a unique calling; and it was the best experience I had had up to that point. I gained more from those two years than I might have during this lifetime if I hadn’t gone. I love my mission experience. In fact, not a day goes by (and I’ve been back for a year-and-a-half now) that I don’t wish I were back in
So please don’t misunderstand what I’m trying to say. I only mean that the mission was a calling in the Church and we were to magnify our calling. Then we are released and it’s time to move on and magnify our callings that are given to us thereafter (and it does help to apply what you learned from the mission – in fact, I don’t see how one can magnify a calling after the mission without applying the knowledge and wisdom gained from that experience). Yes, it is one of the few callings that is actually a 24/7 responsibility (while other callings are balanced with work, school, family, etc). It’s the simple principle of magnifying a calling I’m trying to emphasize and focus on. It’s like one of those eternal laws we read about in the D&C. If we magnify our callings, the Spirit is with us, guiding and teaching us, and we feel a greater peace in our lives. Our “confidence [waxes] strong in the presence of God” (D&C 121:45). I would even go out on a limb and suggest the possibility that the returned missionaries who don’t realize this basic law and think the mission is everything are missing a key principle that exists within the Church. If you magnify your calling, you will be blessed! I really feel that is one lesson missionaries learn effectively, which becomes a great asset in future Church leadership.
Another Giant Leap for Mankind
As another example of my “underdeveloped sense-of-shame” ;-) I have subjected myself to the internet-based society, in which we live, through what you now read – this blog. Welcome. I am determined to utilize these ones and zeros we call “free web space” in portraying thought and reflection. I will admit, however, that this is all new to me. It’s been a while since I’ve really written anything (journal included until recently – sad day, you know) and I’ve never blogged before (if it wasn’t a verb before, it is now; I’m from
As a first blog to be blogged by yours truly, I would like to dedicate this site to certain people: first of all to my senior AP English teacher, who put up with me and my friend, as well as the rest of the class who, at the time, where less than fans of Michael Deagan; to those who know what the number one rule in life is and live it; to those who actually find interest in what I have (and choose) to say; and lastly, but certainly not least (this is actually where the real dedication goes to) to my summer roommate, who inspired me to create my own blog. Handsome guy, by the way. Ladies, as soon as he’s available (if the day ever comes) I’ll let you know.
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