Best Christmas Ever?

As a pilot I sometimes must work during holidays, and Christmas is no exception. And of all the holidays during the year, Christmas is the hardest one to get off. Every month I and hundreds of other pilots bid for our preferred schedule, which is then awarded based on our seniority. My first year (2007) I was still in training, so my seniority didn’t even come into play. Sensibly, the instructor pilots in the training department didn’t want to work on Christmas, so I had that Christmas off as well.

The following year I had moved up enough in seniority that while I was still a reserve pilot, I was senior enough among the reserve pilots to hold Christmas off. As a junior airline pilot, I was supposed to have an awful schedule, but reality was proving quite a bit better. At least up until then.

But then my airline furloughed over 130 pilots and I found that my ability to reliably have certain days off was, well, unreliable to say the least. And then it was time to bid for my December schedule. I used every available resource at my disposal and still ended up working the 22nd through the 26th. Needless to say it was probably my worst Christmas ever. I missed being there to help Annette with all the preparations and I missed seeing the fruit of those efforts on Christmas morning as the children woke up to find what Santa had brought them. I missed Christmas dinner with my wife and children, with my parents and my in-laws and my siblings. I even missed the family photo we take every year with my in-laws. I had to be photoshopped in.

The scripture reads, “there must needs be an opposition in all things,” and that it’s directly because their negative counterparts exist that virtue, health and happiness are recognizable. This year has proven that true to me. I was fortunate to get a better schedule, and while not perfect, I could at least work with it. I returned home on the afternoon of the 22nd and didn’t need to be back to work until Christmas night. Of course, as a commuter pilot, I would need to leave around 8:30 in the morning on Christmas day in order to be on time. We had our family dinner last night on Christmas Eve with my wife and children plus my parents and my in-laws and afterward we read the Christmas story from the New Testament and sang a few carols. Later in the evening my brother Brian and his wife Laura stopped by, having just arrived from Houston and I finally got to meet their baby daughter. My sister Alison and her husband Chris picked them up from the airport and so they also came in to visit. It was a wonderful Christmas Eve.

This morning Annette and I awoke at 6:40 to unmistakable sounds of children. I happily if sleepily watched the delight in their faces as they opened their gifts. When 8:30 drew near and it was time to excuse myself to get ready, I didn’t mind. I had been richly fed and was content. It was in some ways my best Christmas ever.

There is a postscript to this day. Upon arrival in Washington-Dulles tonight I discovered that the flight I was supposed to operate was canceled because the captain had called in sick and there were no more reserve captains who could take his place. I could have stayed home. I had a suspicion that something might happen and made sure to check before I boarded the flight from Salt Lake City, but at that point all still looked good. But even though I could have spent the rest of the day with my family, I didn’t feel resentful. Disappointed, to be sure, but there was nothing that could be done. No, mostly I felt happy and grateful to have been able to have such a wonderful Christmas Eve and morning. Sometimes you have to taste the bitter to know to prize the good.

At Last! An Instruction Manual for Parents.

Being a parent is tough. And as the cliché goes, there is no instruction manual. Or is there?

Several months ago my wife introduced me to a book, Easy to Love, Difficult to Discipline, by Becky Bailey. It is completely changing my views on parenting and how to go about it and in the process giving me increased hope that both my children and I will survive the experience.

One primary concept is that conflict is part of life and rather than being something undesirable it is really an opportunity for teaching. “You mean I should encourage conflict? That’s crazy!” That would be crazy. But here’s the deal. Children (and adults) aren’t born knowing where appropriate boundaries and limits should be and what consequences, both good and bad, may result from their actions. Conflict is where that learning can take place, and best while they are young and the consequences are small. Unfortunately, frequently the wrong lessons are learned because the parents see conflict as a contest of wills and a power struggle. Parents want to know how to make their children behave. Obedience is prized not least because it is the easier path—for the parents.

But that just teaches children to be followers and pleasers. It also teaches them to force their will on others who are weaker than they are. Conversely, if the parents give in to the children in the interest of peace it teaches them to be demanding and ego-centric. It’s not that the children are bad—they have just been incorrectly taught and guided. Easy to Love, Difficult to Discipline shows you how to keep a level head and help your children learn these essential lessons. It’s not about making our children behave, but equipping them with the necessary understanding that will help them be more likely to make the correct choices, both now and in the future.

For those of us who believe that one of God’s supernal gifts to mankind is agency, this approach fits right in. God does not teach us by making us behave, so why would we try this with our children? Well, we do it because that’s how we were raised, or its how we think we should parent.

Control uses fear, whereas the principal here is one of loving guidance. And each new chapter I read (I still have another 60 pages to go) brings new revelations.

A big one is positive intent. It is easy to believe that when children (and adults) misbehave they do it out of selfishness or some other bad motive. Not surprisingly, when you tell little Johnny “You’re being selfish for not sharing your toys,” he takes that as a personal attack (which it is) and is even less willing to share. We just escalated the conflict. Positive intent assumes that Johnny misbehaved for a more neutral reason, even if he really was being selfish. By telling Johnny, “You kept the toys to yourself because you wanted to make sure they were nearby to play with later,” he sees you as someone who is his ally rather than his enemy. Note that this may not be the real reason. In fact, Johnny himself may not be able to tell you why he wouldn’t share his toys. The key here is not going into opposition mode. Then the child will be more likely to listen and respond to your loving guidance. “Johnny, when we have more toys than we can play with at the same time, we share the extra ones so that our friends can play and be happy too. Then when we want them back we ask for them by saying, ‘May I have my toy, please?’ Let’s practice.”

There is an excellent chapter on consequences as well. What a light it shined on punishment vs. consequences.

There are so many more insights, clarifications and outright new perspectives that turn on end what I had thought and believed. Most importantly, as I begin to apply the principles in this book I find my own inner peace increasing. I feel better about myself and my role as a parent. The conflict goes on, but if I do my job (however imperfectly) then my children will be better prepared for the rest of their lives.

In case you haven’t already gotten the idea, I cannot recommend this book highly enough. I just wish the entire nation (and world for that matter) could turn to this way to raise children. It would be a truly different world, and a much better one.

Immigration: Essential to America's Soul

From time to time my Dad sends me emails that he has received from one friend or another. Frequently they are on political subjects. Recently he forwarded one to me that contained a list of quotes from various supposed Hispanic leaders that were intended to cast a fearful shadow on the influx of Latino immigration (legal and illegal). Here is my response:

OK, this email got my blood boiling, but not for the same reason as most who may read it. The quotes are mostly (but not all) correctly attributed, while a few have been unable to be substantiated. So that's not the problem. The issue I have is that this email denigrates Latin-American immigrants (both legal and illegal). It appeals to fear. Latin immigrants, like all immigrants in our nation's history, come to America to seek opportunity and a better life. They do not come to get a free ride. The tone of this email is identical to anti-Irish and anti-Italian polemics of the 19th century. At that time the fear was that the unwashed immigrant tide would turn the nation Catholic and put us under the Pope's control. Now we are supposed to fear that several states will secede to rejoin Mexico. What a bunch of crap.

As always, this is not to say that there aren't individuals and groups seeking policies and actions that are inimical to our society and way of life. They certainly exist and are clearly outspoken. But they do not speak for the vast majority of immigrants. In fact, George Will has an interesting piece about the Hispanic-American population that is definitely worth reading. I'm sending it to you. (The column can be read here.)

The worst thing we can do is treat Hispanic immigrants as enemies or less than desirable. That will spur them to do exactly what this email alleges they are doing--voting as a bloc. And shouldn’t they, if the Republicans appear to be targeting them as undesirables. They may trend Democrat, but they are very much in play as a demographic. Republicans need to bring them into the fold, not alienate them.

The worst thing about this email is it targets Latinos and paints them with a broad and very negative brush. It's like saying that Louis Farrakhan speaks for all African-Americans. Our nation is built on immigrants, and this generation's immigrants are really no different from waves in the past (in both good and bad). And one thing that we are still good at (and Europe is not) is making these people into Americans. Two or three generations from now they will be fully integrated, just as the Irish and the Italians are.

The Latinos I know are hard working people trying to make a better life. Some would say that maybe that's true of some, but most are trying to game the system. Bull. That's politicians pandering for votes based on fear. Most Latinos (legal and illegal) just want something better for themselves and their children, just like immigrants of the past.

We need comprehensive immigration reform, including a guest worker program and controlled borders, but in a way that communicates to Latinos that they are not the target. The Obama administration and Congress both seem incapable of doing this. And I'm aware of the maneuvering the Obama administration is entertaining, which is unconscionable and will not stand in the light of day. The immigration reform bill that tried to go through during the Bush administration was flawed, but it was far better than what we have now, and is a good template to start from, as long as we can add stronger border control to it.

OK, I'm through with my rant. I guess you found one of my hot buttons. Those who fear immigration fear that America's soul will be lost through it, while I embrace immigration because I believe that it is an essential part of America's soul and renews it, just as the [Latter-day Saint] Church would die without the missionary program. Oh, it would still exist, but it would be moribund and decaying like the Reorganized Church.

My Dad forwarded my reply to a friend whose response made my day:

Hey, your son Rob has got it right! I really liked his logic.

Historically, we've gone through this numerous times. I've said it before, but go back to the pre l860's, say about l840, and the fear of the Italians and Irish immigrants, because _"they were Roman Catholic" led to a political party, aptly called the No Nothings. The issue? Anti Catholicism. Been there, done that.

Every time I see one of these diatribes targeted at some particular group, or groups, I think, now just what is this guy (or gal) selling? I'm suspicious. And sure enough, most of the time, we've got a bigot on the other end! I don't like bigots.

I have no problem with people disagreeing with the current policies of the government. Currently, I'm not a big fan of what I see going on. But when I see this drivel which your son and I agree is "crap", I really find it hard to accept. Use logic to argue. Use you noodle, as we to say. Don't just put together a bunch of anti this or anti that to make your case.

We, the people of the United States are a composite of a lot of different groups. We aren't "one" thing. We're a mix. That's our strength.

You didn't send it, but I received an e-mail a couple of days ago that took out after muslim's about the same way the e-mail in question here took out after hispanics. I don't have any muslim grandchildren, but my reaction was similar. What are we doing? Do the people that put this stuff together or send it on recognize what they are doing?

Anyway, I don't know if your son got his smarts from you or his mom, but kudo's to you both.

My Dad and I agree on a lot, but don’t always see eye to eye. It made my day to see that sometimes through discussion we can find common ground.

Breakfast in the Big Apple

Although I have traveled pretty extensively, until last week I had never been to New York City. Actually, I have landed at La Guardia and JFK several times, and even spent a couple of nights in hotels within 5 minutes of those airports, but does that really count? I hadn’t been into The City—i.e. Manhattan. Last week that all changed.

My sister Alison is spending the month doing an internship for SeriousEats.com and since New York is her favorite place in the world I figured she would be a good person to break me in. I arrived just before midnight and over the computer and phone she and I worked out the logistics of getting from Queens to Tribeca to go to breakfast together. It would be short visit, as I needed to catch the hotel shuttle to the airport at 1:00PM the next day.

My adventure began walking to Rockaway Avenue to catch the Q7 bus. Along the way I passed hoses similar to these:




From the bus I changed to the subway, which at the Rockaway station is actually an elevated train. It’s hard to find the subway when you’re looking down and it’s above you. Fortunately I figured it out fairly quickly and hopped on the next train. After a half an hour I got off and exited the subway station beneath this building at Canal Street. I sat on a bench in the little park in the picture, waiting for Alison. With the modern marvel of cell phones, we quickly found each other.



From there we walked haphazardly to the Locanda Verde, a restaurant that her editor considers perhaps the best breakfast in New York. Among its other claims to fame, it is partly owned by Robert De Niro

Here’s what it looks like inside—we sat at the table in the middle closest to the bar.



I ordered the Zucchini Frittata, basically whipped eggs with zucchini strips, roasted tomato, fiore di zucca (zucchini blossoms) and goat cheese. It was very tasty.



Alison had the Lemon Ricotta Pancakes with fresh blueberries and meyer lemon curd. Also excellent.



Afterwards we walked around through part of nearby Greenwich Village:



And passed by Washington Square Park:



With the time drawing short I my sister farewell and boarded the subway to return to the hotel. Now that I was fully confident in my abilities to navigate the public transportation system I naturally got off at the wrong stop, adding almost half and hour to my travel time. This had the unfortunate effect of delaying me past the time I was scheduled to leave for the airport. Yes, I cut it too close. All ended well, though, as I was able to get to the airport still with plenty of time to get ready for our flight back to Washington, D.C.

Next time I’m in New York with a halfway long overnight Alison most likely won’t be there, but I certainly intend to do some more sightseeing. Having seen the city so often in movies and TV, it was a little like walking around on a movie set. All in all, pretty cool. I’m not planning on moving there any time soon, but it was certainly a fun place to visit.

Nothing Changes on New Year's Day (?)

Today we celebrate the beginning of a new year, and a new decade. Well, for the purists out there, it’s technically the end of the first decade of the new century, but we’re going to ignore that for now. Tradition tells us that on New Year’s Day we should review our life and make resolutions to change.

This is a good thing. . . in principle. I certainly am aware of my own shortcomings and would like to change some of my less than ideal habits. There’s just one small obstacle: change is hard. In the words of Mark Twain, the start of a New Year "is the accepted time to make your regular annual good resolutions. Next week you can begin paving hell with them as usual." In short, humans are good at starting things, but not so good at seeing them through.

As a result, many of us who have seen a few New Year’s Days come and go still wrestle with the same habits year after year and so we tend to become cynical. We begin to doubt that change is realistic, at least for us. We long for it, but our faith has ebbed. Sure, someone else may be able to, but we aren’t good enough. And each new attempt that yields the same lack of results reinforces this view.

Is that it, then? Are we just not good enough? Is it just the way we are? Or is there something else going on?

I suggest it’s something else. In college I had the good fortune to learn about systems theory. At the heart of systems theory is the concept of equilibrium within a system. Essentially, a system is something that has many interdependent parts, whether it is a machine, an organism, a society or a personality. When one of those parts is changed or disrupted in some way, the other parts work to compensate in order to reassert the original equilibrium or as close an approximation as possible.

A dramatic example I recall from my study was a family in which the father was a recovering alcoholic. On the surface, the other members of the family were pleased with his change. However, their habits and interaction had been formed when the father’s alcoholism was the defining element of their family, and so instead of helping him to remain sober, they unintentionally pushed him back into his addiction.

Understanding the interrelationship of our own habits and the habits of those around us clarifies the extent of the change we are trying to make. While we are trying to change one main habit, there are a host of other habits in ourselves and quite possibly in others around us that will also require attention. For example, if someone wants to stop smoking they should take into account how smoking affects their other habits, like how they spend their work breaks or how they deal with stressful situations, as well as the people around them, such as family, friends and co-workers. It may seem a little daunting, but by being aware of the bigger picture we are much better able to make the change we desire and reap the desired results.

Common wisdom also suggests that it takes fourteen days to establish a new habit. I think this is basically true. Not that the old habit is forever destroyed after two weeks, but the most critical time to create a new pattern in your life is at the beginning. After that it’s about maintenance and vigilance. The heavy lifting is done; now it’s about staying consistent.

But consistency is tough, so it’s important not to be too hard on yourself if you goof up. Not to excuse it, but to recognize that it doesn’t mean it’s over. No one is perfect. Just pick yourself back up, brush yourself off and continue. Figure out what went wrong, which part of the system tripped you up and make the necessary adjustments. Don’t blame others—they too will adapt as your new habit becomes part of your character. Be sure and surround yourself with things and people that reinforce your desire. Find someone you admire or trust, tell them about your goal and then work out a plan to report to them on it regularly. These things will reinforce your commitment and make it easier. Easier is better.

New Year’s Day may only come once a year, but in reality every day is New Year’s Day. In the words of TobyMac’s song “City on our Knees:”

If you gotta start somewhere why not here
If you gotta start sometime why not now
If we gotta start somewhere I say here
If we gotta start sometime I say now

Craziest Mission Moment

A couple of months ago one of my favorite mission companions wrote the following for our mission web site:

“Our "Craziest Moment" happened in Portoviejo. Elder Robert Evans and I were headed home on a dark night and this guy, who I thought was inebriated, bumped into me. As he did, he jerked my bag off of my shoulder and pulled a knife on me and Elder Evans. (What a guy!) When I realized I was being robbed of my bag and its valuables (several copies of the BoM, my scriptures, charlas (discussions), etc. - no money or ID), I suddenly felt a wave of righteous indignation come over me. (That guy just took my bag right off my shoulder. He took my bag! I'm a missionary and that's my missionary bag. You can't steal a missionary's bag from a missionary. That's just wrong!!!)

“So, in my finest español (just 5 months in Ecuador) I called upon him to immediately repent. I demanded (commanded) he put down my bag and walk away or there would be serious consequences (I may have called down the powers of heaven - some details are fuzzy after 20 years ... it happened so fast). He rejected my commands and instead jabbed his knife at me as I pressed him to repent. (Some people! Here we are thousands of miles away from home, teaching the gospel, and this is the thanks we get.)

“I jumped back at each jab (Jack Bauer style) and returned each time with the same call to repentance (PUT DOWN MY BAG or else) ...

“I was making pretty good headway for awhile (at least I thought) until I slipped in the dirt, falling to the ground as our assailant lunged towards me from above.

“No worries! Elder Evans was at my side the entire time (as all good companions are when their fellow missionary is sprawled on the ground with an armed assailant coming at them). Elder Evans jumped towards the assailant, drawing away his attention just in time with a shout I have yet to identify, nor am I able to adequately describe or recreate (you are welcome to ask Elder Evans to recreate it, but be warned). As I was on the ground (not yet giving up, but admittedly feeling more vulnerable), I reached out my hands to push myself up from the ground and I felt several sizable rocks beside me. They were just the size of my grip and large enough to use as object lessons to help me teach the principle of repentance. I jumped to my feet with teaching tools (rocks) in hand, determined to get a commitment by the end of this charla (discussion). Reproving with sharpness, I shouted out my final dire warning demanding he lay down my bag and leave us immediately or certainly suffer the wrath of two angry (filled w/righteous indignation) missionaries. Eyeing the sizable rocks in my hands and overwhelmed with Elder Evan's effective maneuvering and vocal expressions, our assailant paused momentarily, appearing to reevaluate his circumstances. Then, without further notice and not a word ever spoken by him, our assailant dropped my bag to the ground and penitently backed away. I pressed forward, grabbed my bag, looked our assailant directly in his eyes and with complete clarity, declared the obvious, "Gracias y Buenas Noches!"

“Other than that, the rest of the night was pretty calm.”

I thought I’d add my version to Mike’s account (it’s always interesting how different details stand out to different people).

Elder Calta and I were walking down the hillside in Portoviejo after teaching a discussion to a family after dark. While passing near the bus terminal a man walking the opposite direction suddenly bumped into Mike and took occasion to divest Mike of his backpack, which contained several copies of the Book of Mormon plus his camera. The man then turned to face us and drew a knife, threatening us to keep our distance. Mike wasn’t going to take that. He started yelling at the thief, commanding him to return the backpack and telling him that he was stupid and that he was going to die. (“¡Somos misioneros! ¡Tu eres estúpido! ¡Tu vas a morir!”) He also began to make menacing gestures toward the now slightly concerned robber, who slowly backed up.

Meanwhile I just wished that Mike would calm down—it wasn’t worth getting hurt—or worse—over.

Then Mike slipped and fell. The thief moved in closer, intent on pressing his advantage. I had to think fast. I quickly grabbed some rocks (I wasn’t going to get close to a guy with a knife) and cocked my arm back, ready to throw. Shouting at the thief to get his attention apparently I really got Mike’s attention as well. Mike followed my lead and also grabbed some rocks. The robber, recognizing that we weren’t the easy prey that he had imagined, again began to back up. Now back on his feet, Mike continued to threaten the man verbally and with actions (Think, “c’mon, you wanna piece of me?”). That was too much for the poor guy. Shaking visibly, he set the backpack down and backed away.

Mike picked up his backpack, looked the thief in the eyes and spoke loudly, “¡Gracias y buenas noches!”

From that experience I learned not to make Mike mad, and that a 5’ 5”, 120 lbs. guy should think twice about taking on two crazy Americans. You never know, they might know karate, just like all the Americans on TV.

Two or Three Witnesses

Yesterday morning I was driving to the Atlanta airport to catch my 7:15 flight home. I had checked on the computer the night before and saw that there were plenty of seats and I looked forward to a relaxed commute home. Well, fairly relaxed. I would have to make a connection in Denver, since the nonstop to Salt Lake City was pretty full with lots of other people like me on the standby list for whatever few seats were available. But I would get home by noon, which was the important part.

So while driving I called up the airline to reserve the “jumpseat”—the extra observation seat that every airliner has in the cockpit. Nearly every U.S. airline has agreements in place so that a pilot from any of the participating airlines can ride up front (or in back if there are empty seats) on any of the participating airlines. This has gotten me home at least a third of the time and is invaluable. Anyway, in process of making the reservation I discovered much to my dismay that the flight actually was departing at 6:30, not 7:15. Was the website wrong? I recalled that another website showed the flight leaving at 6:30, but since the company’s website showed 7:15, I assumed (take note of that word) that the company’s website was correct.

Panic struck me as I drove to the ASA parking lot. By my calculations, if I was lucky I would arrive at the terminal at 6:15. Maybe I could still make it. The bus made good time, and after an agonizing 60 second delay waiting for an airplane to get out of the way. At 6:16 I got out of the bus, ran for a jet bridge (remember, I’m outside with the airplanes), hiked up the stairs, entered the terminal and sprinted for the gate. I got there at 6:19 (gate agents try to close the door at ten minutes prior). I made it! Success!

Except the flight was full, and although I had reserved the jumpseat I hadn’t been there early enough to claim it. Three other pilots were in front of me. Failure! Doom!

Now when would I get home? Well, to make a long story short, the next flight I could reasonably try was the nonstop to Salt Lake City, and while the airplane was full, I was first in line for the jumpseat. I got home by noon, and all was well.

I felt very blessed yesterday, in spite of my initial bad luck. I also learned (re-learned) an important lesson: if something doesn’t seem right, like two websites disagreeing about when a flight was scheduled to leave, then the only smart thing to do is to dig deeper until you find out which one is correct. What I had inadvertently done is mix up the 7:15PM flight with the 6:30AM flight. The second website wasn’t wrong, nor was the airline’s website. What was in error was my perception, my interpretation.

The scriptures teach this point: “In the mouth of two or three witnesses shall every word be established.” (2 Corinthians 13:1) This isn’t just a spiritual principle, but a practical day-by-day one as well. And I need to assume a whole lot less.