OCR Text |
Show !ay, February 19, 2009 AMERICAN FORK CITIZEN Page 7 jssessions i suit our rinciples I Joseph Walker I A few years ago Anita sur-ised sur-ised me with a suit. It was indsome and fashionable, and lieve it or not, I looked pretty fegant in it. J At least I did until I started eeding it. VALUE It hap- SPEAK ened one Sunday vhen my young friend Tommy and I were visiting with Rosa, a nember of our church congre gation. Our conversation had fbeen deliehtful. and as Tommv raze (hev. she had one of those big dogs out front, and I wasn't about to get paw prints on my new suit) we were doing some good-natured teasing back and forth. Which is probably why I didn't notice the garage door opener that hung low in Rosa s garage, or that my head was within range of the metallic box at the precise moment I decided to lunge at Tommy. Suddenly I knew what baseball base-ball felt like after Hammerin' Hank Aaron got through with it- The blow to the top of my head staggered me. I stumbled around like a punch-drunk heavyweight, with only one thought in my suddenly numb head: "If you fall down you'll get your new suit dirty." I regained my balance and struggled strug-gled to regain my composure or to at least remember who I was, where I was and what I was doing wearing such fine threads. That's when the blood started trickling off the end of my nose and landing on my pants. Still groggy, I tried to dodge the staining droplets. But to my horror I discovered that the dripping blood followed me everywhere I moved. I was too dazed to realize that the only way to get my suit away from the source of the blood was to cut my head off (which would have created an entirely new set of problems for the suit but I digress). Finally Tommy grabbed me and started wiping the blood from my face with a washcloth that Rosa had given him. "Are you OK?" he asked. For afl I knew I was headed (if you'll pardon the expression) for a coma. My career could be over. My family could be on its way to the poor house (er, poorer house). Life as we knew it could be over. But all I could think of was . . . "My suit!" I said. "I think I got some blood on my suit!" "I think your suit is going to survive," Tommy said. "But I'm not so sure about you." As it turned out, I did survive with a slight concussion. No coma. No indigence. Just some dizziness, light -headedness and a little confusion now and then. In other words, normal. And as for my suit, well, to tell you the truth, it was a long time before I could bring myself my-self to look at it. A scar on my head for the rest of my life was one thing. But blood stains on my beautiful new suit? I wasn't sure I could handle that. You know what I mean? Of course you do. We all get a little flaky about our possessions pos-sessions from time to time. Sometimes their accumulation becomes our obsession and their maintenance becomes our passion. We forget that a house is just shelter, a car is just transportation trans-portation and new suits even smart-looking double-breasted charcoal gray ones with unobtrusive unob-trusive pinstripes are just clothes. While there's nothing inherently wrong with having nice things, there is something wrong if those "things" become more important than the people or principles in our lives. My dad used to say that he'd never want to own a suit that was so expensive that he had to think twice about getting down on the floor to play with one of his grandchildren. I guess the same principle applies to any other possession. If what we own enhances our relationships and our ability to help other people, that's great. But if it gets in the way of who we are and how we relate to others, maybe it isn't worth it whatever what-ever "it" is. Even if we've spilled blood over it. I Joseph Walker writes his nationally syndicated "ValueSpeak" column from his home in American Fork. Basic training pairs well with college veterans The ROTC program is a godsend to many university students. It certainly worked well for Theodore Okawa. i n arriving at Brigham Young University and learning of the ROTC program, I went over to the Wells Building and tried to enroll in the AFROTC, thinking think-ing that even if I couldn't become a pilot (I could sense that my eyes were not going to stay 2020), I could work on the ground. But the ROTC recruiter said, "The Air Force needs pilots." I walked down the hall the other way and signed up with the Army. I was now a junior at the university. There was an ROTC program that would let you make up your first two years of ROTC by going to basic training at Fort Knox, Kentucky during the summer. Then you finished your ROTC your last two years at the university. uni-versity. Basic training agreed with me very well. I liked the exercise, ex-ercise, I liked the outdoors, I liked being active. I had wrestled wres-tled in high school and during my years in college, and on my mission, I did 50 pushups and sit-ups every day, though I hadn't spent time running. The food was good at the mess hall. I learned first aid, use of the radio, drill and ceremony cer-emony (the marching stuff), marksmanship, and care and maintenance of the M16 rifle. We also fired other things than the M 16. For just being in ROTC for the next two years, I received a living stipend of $ 100 a month, and this was when $100 was a lot of money. I could live on that, and with what I earned in my custodial custo-dial job, I could even pay my tuition. I could even afford to date quite actively. I soon met a Japanese woman whom I'd met on my mission, and we became good friends. She was dating other men, but finally, with some advice from my former mission mis-sion president, an American Japanese, I learned how to compete. "Get in there and compete," he counseled me. "That's what makes Americans Ameri-cans great they compete!" I started dating this woman seriously, and we decided to get married. I then had three semesters of school left. That summer, I went to advanced ad-vanced training at Fort Lewis, Washington. Next I finished my senior year and went into the army. My wife and I both graduated together, she with an English major, and me with a degree in economics. I remember that at commissioning, commis-sioning, I walked the wrong way. Also at commissioning, you're supposed to give a dollar coin to the first person you salute, but I didn't have a dollar, so I ducked out the back door. I graduated in April but didn't report to infantry officers of-ficers basic at Fort Benning, Georgia, until July. I was allowed al-lowed to take my family with me, but because my wife was expecting our first son, I sent her to her home in Japan to live with her parents. Officers training involved a whole bunch of brand-new second lieutenants, a few from the National Guard and a couple of men from West Point. At first, I felt like, "Ah, these West Pointers! They're probably snotty, stuck up. They think they're elite." But the ones I knew weren't that way. They were just regular guys who also had to prove themselves. West Pointers make superior officers. One day these college graduates grad-uates were standing around talking about girls, some of them bragging about how many women they had slept with during their years in college. col-lege. I told them I had never slept with any woman except my wife. They said, "What?! Didn't you go to college?" I said, "Yes, and at the college col-lege I went to, BYU, there's lots of people who believe the same way I do." They shrugged it off, though one of them came to me later and said, "You know, I agree with you. That's the way I'm going to be." He was Catholic. Officer Okawa later he-came he-came a career finance officer in the U.S. Army. Some veterans may wish, on their own, to tape or digitally record their memories of military service. These will be transcribed and archived. For instructions on how to do this, e-mail Don Norton at don.nortonbyu.edu. Obituary Arden Spencer Arden H. Spencer, 89 died on Febru ary 1 1, 2009. He is survived by his children Dean Spencer; Spen-cer; Cheryl Valerio; Jessica Jes-sica (Greg), Clint, Trent, Kyle, JJ, Nickie, and great-grandchildren. Services will be on Thurs., Feb. 19, 11 a.m. Viewing, 9 -10:45 a.m. at the LDS Church, 680 N. 350 W, American Fork. Moviti for Ft. 20, Until Fab. 26, 2009 11,1 1 ' it mm Twilight Mty-Fr IMfl-Mrm W,ill,HIIHip Tale of Despereaux Monday Friday - 9.-00 pm Saintly -5:00 19:00 fin emmmms Bolt Monday - Friday - 7:00 pm Satvrday - 3:00 I 7:00 m m mm I 1IB ma - 100 , . 1985 T I 1 ! mm mm i a jm. mm 2009 - SI. 00 r MOST EVERYTHING COSTS MORE THAN IT DID IN 1985. EXCEPTYOUR ELECTRICITY. It simply costs more to produce most products and services than it did two decades ago. Electricity is no different. Building new power plants, transmission lines and renewable energy resources is very expensive. And yet, our overall average electricity rates' here in Utah are the same as they were in 1985 (the average Utahn pays only 70 cents a day to power their lives)". At the same time, Rocky Mountain Power has and will continue to invest billions in new infrastructure to ensure sufficient electricity is available to satisfy today's demands and to power the future. "Applies to Residential rates only. "Ak-eroge rate for tfite-person household is $2.06 per day. Over the last 24 years, Utah has been one of the fastest-growing fastest-growing states in the nation. Serving this growth comes at a cost - and that cost continues to climb. While the price of electricity will increase, we want you to know we are committed to delivering electricity as safely and efficiently as possible, along with providing you the answers that will help you save energy and money - right now in 2009. To learn more, visit rockymountainpower.net. ROCKY MOUNTAIN Nq POWER Let's turn the answers on. |