“They sure don’t make things like they used to!” Every kid, everywhere, has heard a parent or grandparent utter this lament, and usually accompanied by a disgruntled shake of the head. I heard some version of this exclamation many times during my formative years. And so, it was with a fond and a wistful recollection…
My wife and I have a newfound joy: Riding our bikes side-by-side from Spring City to Mt. Pleasant, along a lovely new pathway. I’ve been making that same short trip via bicycle since we moved here, 12 years ago, pedaling up S.R. 117, which was fine, if a bit unnerving, having cars and trucks go…
It’s been decades now, but the memory is still as vivid as if it happened yesterday… The least likely kid the whole 8th Grade metal shop class was awarded the only perfect score for the most challenging assignment of the semester—a metal riveting hammer; eight inches in length with a four inch handle and a…
However it happens, we all tend to fall into our own comfortable and familiar routines over time. And are these routines the result of any conscious planning or deliberation? Not typically; certainly not in my case. They just tend to gradually develop, and before I’ve even realized it, I have some new thing in my…
Four days were circled on the calendar with a simple notation: “Moab Trip”; a planned getaway with 30 local teenagers along for the fun. Nothing extraordinary, really: a scenic drive down to Moab, some hiking around that red rock wonderment; some fishing and general falderal in the surrounding hills; then a couple stops at places…
Ever since moving to Spring City (nearly nine years ago), I have heard fanciful tales of a waterfall up our nearby canyon. And not some dribbling, piddling little thing that’s hardly worth a mention, but a roaring, honest-to-goodness fall that would take your breath away if you were to behold its majesty. So many neighbors…
A wistful parting from two faithful old friends It is time. Past time, in fact. These old trail shoes have been with me for over three years now, and showing their age—split out at the sides, laces knotted in multiple places, smooth rubber on the soles where you’d expect to find sturdy tread, and no…
My Slavish Devotion to a Fitness App My wristwatch—the same one I’ve worn for the past 30 years—tells me exactly two things: time and date. It doesn’t do anything else. And I have stuck with this trusty old timepiece, while friends and relatives have all made the jump to digital devices (so-called “smart…
A Group of Beginning Guitar Students at Their Very First Jam I recently found myself standing in front of a group of fresh-faced young guitar students at the community recreation center in Mount Pleasant, the leather strap of my banjo slung over a shoulder, and plucking out the typical ‘four potato’ intro that kicks…
A remarkable thing happened on the way home from Nephi the other day.
All of us can probably remember some reading assignment for a high school English class that seemed onerous at the time… if not torturous… if not downright cruel.
Since moving back to my native state of Utah, over eight years ago, I have been reminded, on a daily basis, of our rather unusual state symbol.
That Encouraging Spirit of Collective Philanthropy We have all witnessed those heartwarming and faith-restoring displays of some determined collection of people coming together around a worthwhile cause and doing something—donating money, fundraising, contributing time and energy and effort—to bring about some favorable result. Sometimes such causes can capture the national, or even international,…
It’s not worth the number of words it would take to explain why we didn’t get a Christmas tree this year. We just didn’t.
It is a day in late October. Not a particularly hot day—60 degrees at most; and I have made the deliberate and determined decision to pedal my bicycle to a local pond for a ceremonial polar-bear-plunge into what I know will be bracing autumn water—the kind of cold plunge that will immediately take your breath…