Okay, we talked race, now let's talk religion.
Last week I was summoned to meet with the bishop directly after sacrament. Pronto! My hub had taken the boys camping so I was on my own to brave the appointment.
When I arrived, the entire bishopric was seated nervously behind the bishop's eight inch binder, directly in front of his 52 inch Family Proclamation.
"Are you guys going to call me to be the Stake President?" I said, after a few moments of awkward pleasantries.
"No, we actually want to get to know you better so we can give you the perfect calling. We were wondering if you and your family would speak in Sacrament meeting in two weeks."
"That's it?" I said. "You raised my heart rate for that?"
In Hawaii, we just check the program to see if we're speaking that day and we like it like that! That way we don't have to go through all the opposition it takes to touch people's hearts.
We haven't delivered our speech yet, but I spent the better part of last week thinking of what I would have to say to get the perfect calling.
And what is the perfect calling, anyway? I thought a lot about that too.
I decided I wanted to be that guy that sits in the big, comfy, ergonomically-correct office chair on the stand. Do you guys have that guy? We didn't have that guy in Hawaii, but we have him here in Utah. When I'm not fantasizing about climbing the rock wall I'm watching that guy. He sits on the stand and looks out over the crowd. Then he jots down a few tittles in his notebook. Then he looks at the speaker before he again jots down a few tittles.
What the helk is he jotting and tittling? That's what I want to know.
I am so on to that guy. I know exactly what he's doing. He's blogging. I know THAT look! I know THAT cover! He's pretending to pay attention, but he's really thinking about his next post.
At least that's what I'm going to do when I get that calling.
The best part about that calling is that you get to sit right next to the big black boom box behind the sacrament table. What do you do with a big black boom box in the chapel? Just curious?
I know what I will do when I get that calling. I will plug in my headphones and while I'm pretending to jot and tittle I will also pretend to be listening to the Mormon Tab. But really I'll be listening to the Black Eyed Peas and writing my next post. Just think how good my posts will be with that view!
So what should I say in my talk to get that calling? Should I be straight up or beat around the bush?
I'm a little worried because what if no one laughs at my jokes. What if they don't get me? Everyone seems so smart. I'm thinking of making a sign that says APPLAUSE to cue the audience to the funny parts. Or at least a sign that says BA DUM BUM! so they know I'm a good side kick.
Actually church on Sunday was kinda weird. Someone must have ratted out my blog or else you guys must have sent a lot of prayers into the universe that the dummy would get some eye contact in church, cuz there was a whole lotta eye contact going on! I mean everyone was staring at me.
What's up with that?
Do you think it could have been my gold bedazzled blouse?
Before we left the house my hub said, "Oh my, you look awfully . . . sparkly today. Have you been watching What Not to Wear?"
How am I s'pose to take that?
Another weird thing about church is that Sunday School was normal. They didn't even play the do do do do Twilight Zone theme song for opening exercises this week!
And I made three new friends besides Carol Bell in Relief Society. But I accidentally hugged one of them in the hallway.
The only not-weird thing that happened at church was the choking incident. That is to say I caught a big ole' kid in the hallway who just so happened to have my son in a headlock. When I tried to tell him about my strict NO-CHOKING-IN-CHURCH policy, he said, "I was just trying to help him feel the spirit."
Which, now that I think about it in context, makes perfect not-weird sense.
I am definitely in the right ward because in Utah they divide wards phonetically. So far I've met a bunch of Katies, Kellys, Keris, Kathryns, Kimbrees, Kims, Connies, Crystals, Carries, and Carols.
But I'm the only Crash.
P.S. Raise your hand if you want to meet my one and only bee-U-tiful sister.
This is Melanie:
I know what you're thinking. How does she look like such a super model, plus have all those extra living accommodations for her loved ones? Am I right?
If her eyes look a little blurry in this shot it's because I asked her to take off her glasses to avoid flash flare.
Here we are together freezing our booties off at the Welcome-to-the-neighborhood pot luck last night. (See what I mean about the flash flare?)
(Actually Kathryn is Melanie's friend, but she let me borrow her to make you think I'm pop-U-lar.)