The Back Bench

Our main man Mitt Romney has been all over the news lately. You know, he’s the guy running for president who also happens to be a–gasp!–Mormon.

Between you and me, I’m rather tired of everyone making a big hoot ‘n nanny about the guy being LDS. I mean, from the way the media keeps carrying on abut the “Mormon factor,” you would think they thought Mormons were a wild pack of crazy people.

Oh wait, they do.

Interviewer: Governor Romney, thanks for being on the show.

Mitt: (all smiles) Great to be here, Joan.

Interviewer: Governor, a lot of Americans are asking themselves, Can a Mormon be president? How do your respond to that?

Mitt: (all smiles) Well, Joan, one of the great things about this country is that we enjoy the freedom to worship as we see fit, to raise our children in a belief system that will give them the moral upbringing they need to be good citizens who contribute to the betterment of society. But my hope is that people won’t vote for me, or refuse to vote for me, because of my faith. I would hope that people would look at my record as a public official. For example, when I balanced the budget in the state of Massachu–

Interviewer: Yes yes, but isn’t it true that the Mormons have embraced some rather, shall we say, unorthodox beliefs? Take polygamy. When most Americans think of Mormons, they think of polygamy.

Mitt: (chuckling) Mormons don’t practice polygamy, Joan. The church banned the practice over a hundred years ago. Mormons are just like any other Christian faith. We love our children, we–

Interviewer: Yes yes, but as a Mormon, are you telling me that you’ll never take another wife? I mean, we Americans can only take one First Lady. What would we call the other wives? Second Lady? Third Lady? I mean, who would choose the drapes?

Mitt: No no, Joan. It’s just me and Ann. In fact, one of my goals as president is to strengthen the American family and–

Interviewer: Not even one more wife?

Mitt: Uh, no, Joan. Not even one.

Interviewer: Not even one teeny tiny wife?

Mitt: I don’t follow you.

Interviewer: Moving on. What about horns?

Mitt: Horns?

Interviewer: Is it true that Mormons have horns? Is that why you have such coifed hair, to hide the horns?

Mitt: You’re asking me if I have horns?

Interviewer: You’re evading the question, Governor. I won’t call that an admission, but the question obviously makes you uncomfortable. I say the American people have a right to know, but your secrets are your secrets, I suppose. Final question. Is it true you duct taped the family dog to the grill of your station wagon as you were driving through a snowstorm? And why do Mormons do this?

Poor Mitt. The guy can’t get a break.

What I love most about Mitt, though, is the credibility he’s giving the Church. He’s smart. He’s faithful to his wife. He’s strong in his beliefs. And, most importantly, he’s handsome. That’s what we Mormons need: a Brad Pitt, someone with dimpled-chin good looks.

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t have my eye on Mitt. And he’s certainly no Brad Pitt. But he’s no Quasimodo either. The man looks presidential.

I say, “You go Mitt. RE-PRE-SENT!”

And speaking of handsome people, I’ve recently discovered a wonderful little website that is guaranteed to put the rah-rah-sis-kum-bah back in your Mormon pride. It’s famousmormons.net, a collection of all the celebrities and great people in history who are/were members of the Church.

Mitt is there, of course. As is Senator Harry Reid as well as–here’s a shocker–a lot of senators and congressmen from Utah. Senators from Utah are Mormons? How did this happen?!

But fear not. The site isn’t only about politicians. In fact, the segment on famous Mormon politicians was the last to catch my attention and the least interesting of the bunch.

The other groupings are far more fascinating. Like movie stars, professional athletes, musicians, big-shot business executives. It’s neat to see them all put together, as if their all members of the same team, which, I suppose, they are.

The big question of course is: Is the site accurate? Or is this more of the silly rumors? I can’t say for sure. But, accurate or not, it’s a fun list to peruse.

Some of my faves:

Actors

Rick Schroder – The actor best known for his performances as a child on the TV showSilver Spoons and then later in life as a cop on NYPD Blue. Personally, my favorite Rick Schroder performance is his turn as Newt in Larry McMurty’s Lonesome Dove, the best miniseries ever produced (Let the arguing begin). Schroder was in my stake when we lived in Los Angeles, and he sat in front of me one night during a stake priesthood meeting, so we’re practically best friends.

Aaron Eckhart – You know. THAT guy. The guy from the movie The Core, and no, you can’t have those two hours of your life back. Actually, I think he’s a fine actor. Loved him in Erin Brockovich and Thank You For Smoking (both edited for my chaste little eyes, thank you very much).

Ryan Gosling – Yep, the guy from–grab a tissue–The Notebook. He was also nominated for an Academy Award last year, and has been getting some decent gigs ever since.

Jon Heder – Napoleon Dynamite. Well duh. He’s the best thing we got going right now. Shine on, Jon. Shine on.

Katherine Heigl – The blonde girl from Grey’s Anatomy, the show I watched for five minutes until I realized it was actually General Hospital. Could this show be any more about sex? I don’t see how. Anywho, Katherine is kicking up a storm of praise for her recent performance in Knocked Up. And no, I haven’t seen it.

Paul Walker – The guy from The Fast and the Furious, my favorite movie in the whole wide world! I love me some muscle cars and bad acting. Oh, and Paul was also inTimeline (wince), Fast and the Furious 2 (wince), and several other made-for-teenagers movies that feature a lot of carousing, profanity, and sexuality (wince wince wince wince). His film Running Scared had such a gratuitously explicit scene that critics say it should have earned an NC-17 rating. Oh, and did I mention it features the F-bomb 328 times?

But I shouldn’t be so hard on the guy. I’m told he was actually good in the Disney filmEight Below, and I didn’t mind him Flags of Our Fathers. I mean, cut the guy some slack, Aaron. Sheesh!

Musicians

Brandon Flowers, lead singer of The Killers – I don’t buy a lot of music, just an iTunes song every now and then, so I don’t have many songs by The Killers. But the songs I do have, I love. Fantastic. Rock on, Brother Flowers. I hope you’re in your ward choir.

Gladys Knight – A beautiful woman, both inside and out. She’s done a lot for the Church since her baptism ten years ago. Bless her.

James Valentine, lead guitarist for Maroon 5 – Jason’s sister was one of my dearest friends in college, so, again, he and I are practically brothers. I look forward to the day when I actually meet him.

Warren Zevon – This one had me head scratching. Warren Zevon? He was Mormon? This can’t be right.

Sports

Dale Murphy – Atlanta Braves baseball star. He went on to become a mission president, so I guess he paid his tithing and what not.

Roy Castleton – The first Mormon to play professional baseball. He threw a perfect game in the Pacific Coast League in the early 1900’s. Cool, eh?

Jim Gott – He pitched for several Major League teams. He was also a pitching coach for Dennis Quaid when Quaid was filming The Rookie. So he and Dennis Quaid are like best friends. It’s only a matter of time before Dennis Quaid and me are best friends too.

Danny Ainge – One of those super athletes who played both professional baseball AND professional basketball. I could probably beat him at air hockey, though. I play a mean game of air hockey.

Merlin Olsen – Defensive tackle for the St. Louis Rams many moons ago. Also a member of the Football Hall of Fame and the cast of Little House on the Prairie. Now he does flower commercials.

Steve Young – He was a quarterback or something.

Jack Dempsey – This one floored me. Jack Dempsey? The heavyweight champion of the world? The Manassa Mauler? He was LDS? Wow. How cool is that?

Tiger Woods – Just kidding. Just seeing if you’re still paying attention.

Stephen Kirlew – The 2006 World Arm Wrestling Champion. He’s English. He doesn’t compete on Sundays. And his favorite movie has got to be Sylvester Stallone’s Over The Top. Yo Adrian!

Larry Scott – The worlds first Mister Olympia, crowned in 1965. You should see pictures of this guy. I mean, his abs are almost as good as mine. Oh, and he appeared in the movie Muscle Beach Party, which is a shame, I think. If you build a body like that and you’re going to be in a movie, you should at least get to shoot a few aliens.

Alex, I’ll take Miscellaneous for a thousand please.

Ron Dittemore – He’s the director of the Space Shuttle Program. And he’s a high councilor in his stake. Badda bing!

Richard Seafross – He commanded a seven-person crew aboard the Space Shuttle Columbia. Say it with me: MOR-MONS IN SPAAAAACE!!!!!!

Orson Scott Card – He’ll be annoyed that I mention him here on a website that he operates, but I can’t avoid it. He’s LDS. And he’s writes novels like nobody’s business. If you haven’t read any, shame shame shame. I can recommend about 40.

Stephenie Meyer – Also an author. A very talented author. Her next book doesn’t come out for another month, and it’s already a bestseller at amazon. My wife and I are big fans. Yeah, we pre-order.

Henry Eyring – He pioneered the application of quantum mechanics to chemistry. He also was awarded the National medal of Science for devolving the Absolute Rate Theory of chemical reactions, which is probably important.

Ray Combs – Survey says . . . Ding! He was host of The Family Feud.

Ken Jennings – Mr. Jeopardy. He won over (cue the Doctor Evil accent) one millllllion dollars.

Two American Idol contestants – Jon Peter Lewis (season 3) and Carmen Rasmussen (season 2).

Benji Schwimmer – The man with the double-jointed pelvis. He won last year’s reality show So You Think You Can Dance. Benji apparently thought he could, and he was right.

Julie Stoffer – She was on The Real World, New Orleans. Remember her? She was the blonde whose father came and got her from the set and who was kicked out of BYU because of her involvement with the show. You see, she shared a room with a guy, and that’s a big no-no at BYU, even if you’re not living at BYU.

When I was doing improv in LA, Julie came to one of the shows and laughed at everything. Even the very unfunny parts. Bless your heart, Julie.

Famous business execs of past and present:

Nolan Archibald, CEO Black and Decker. Power drills and tiny vacuum cleaners.

Gary Baughman, CEO Fisher-Price. The job we all dreamed of having as kids: owning a toy company!!

A. Blaine Bowman, CEO of Dionex. You know, they make . . .um . . . dionex and stuff.

Stephen Covey, Chairman, Franklin Covey. The company that makes all those planners that people buy and never use.

Gary Crittenden, CEO American Express. Never leave home with it. And of course by “it” he means “your scriptures.”

Jon Huntsman, CEO of Huntsman Chemical. This is the guy who loaned President Hinckley an airplane for his travels. His tithing alone could finance the Church in Europe, South America, and Asia combined.

Jim Jannard, CEO of Oakley. The future’s so bright I gotta wear $400 shades.

J.W. Marriot, Founder of Marriot Hotels. Another fat tithing envelope. And no, you can’t use points to pay tithing.

David Neeleman, CEO JetBlue. The company’s been taking a beating lately. Keep your chin up, Davey boy.

George Romney, Former Chairman of American Motors. His son is running for President. He’s the one with horns.

But the best section on the website is the group entitled Celebrities Rumored to be Mormon.

Jewel, the singer, was born to Mormon parents? Really?

Christina Aguilera, the girl who likes to pose for the cover of Rolling Stone magazine without any clothes on? She could be Mormon too? Apparently so. According to the website her parents met at BYU and married in the DC temple.

Steve Martin. He’s not LDS. We all know this. But how the rumor possibly got started is on the website, and I must include it here because it’s so monstrously, inexcusably dunderheaded. The author writes:

“I had been a member of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir for a few years when a member of the Choir told us one Sunday morning that his son had baptized Steve Martin back in Hilton Head, South Carolina. I’m sure that many Choir members did  what I did. I told everyone I met about it.

“But the following Sunday when I asked that Choir member for more info about it, he said, ‘Oh, I misunderstood my son. He said he baptized a man named Steve Martin, but it wasn’t the famous one.'”

Now, let this be a lesson to us all. (1) Never believe any members of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir and (2) Don’t gossip.

My first question would have been, “Why in the world was Steve Martin in Hilton Head, South Carolina?”

And then, after learning that the man had “misunderstood” his son, I would have asked. “My dear sweet brother, did you not think to ask your son, ‘You mean the real Steve Martin?’ This would have been so easy a question to pose. Natural even. And your dear sweet son, who despises you for giving him some of your genes, would have said, “No, Father. Not the real Steve Martin.”

And that would have been the end of it. Steve would have been spared the rumor mill.

But NOOOOOO. This guy had to go and one-up the other fathers with missionary sons with, “Oh yeah, well my son baptized Steve Martin.”

Who knew it could be so easy? Had I known that people would be so gullible, I would have told the world after my mission that I had baptized Howie Mandel. Or Barbara Walters. Or The Incredible Hulk.

“You mean Lou Ferrigno?” they would have asked. “The guy who played The Hulk on the popular TV show?”

And I would have said, “No. The real Incredible Hulk. You know, big green guy. Always rips his pants.”

“Wow. How did you do that?”

“It wasn’t easy,” I would have said. “He was so big it took three baptismal fonts to dunk him.”

And then I would have been the most popular guy in the choir.

Oh well. I’ll train my sons to do that.

My apologies to you, Mr. Steve Martin. Forgive us. We meant you no harm. As a show of our regret and as a gesture of good will, we’re mailing you a bumper sticker to apply to one of your many Lamborghinis. It reads: Vote Mitt.

There are a few topics in LDS culture that really get some of us riled. Caffeine is one of them. Everybody’s got an opinion on caffeine. Can we drink Coke or can’t we? Is Dr. Pepper a sin? And if so, then what about Full Throttle or Red Bull or those Jolt-like soft drinks that are ninety percent caffeine and ten percent citric acid? Is drinking one of those a more serious sin than, say, a caffeinated root beer?

And what about TV on Sunday. Is watching the Superbowl all that bad? I mean really? And what about the Oscars? It’s slightly more refined than men colliding into each other atop astroturf. So is it permissible on the Sabbath? Or what about a good Disney movie? No objectionable content there. It’s probably one happy animated animal talking to another. What’s the harm in that on Sunday?

No, no, no say some. Caffeine or entertainment of any variety on Sunday is a big fat N-O.

So they’re delicate issues. Strong opinions exist on both sides.

Mention the Superbowl or Coke in a high priest group meeting, and the old codgers will soon be slugging it out and slapping each other with vaguely referenced General Conference quotations.

But perhaps no topic gets more attention and generates more heated discussion than that of R-rated movies. We Mormons looooove to debate about R-rated movies.

The difference is, R-rated movies are only supported by a minority of members. Most active Latter-day Saints avoid the Big Bad R. Unlike Sunday TV or caffeine, which have room for interpretation, R-rated movies are precisely that: Restricted. We don’t have to decide if it’s wrong or not. Somebody has already made that decision for us. R means bad. And bad is to be avoided. If somebody says it’s worthy of an R, why shouldn’t I believe them? Best to stick with Bambi and The Other Side of Heaven.

That said, there are many members — many temple worthy members, I might add — who DO watch R-rated movies. Unabashedly so. They may not rush out to see The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, but they will catch the occasional Shakespeare in Love.

I won’t say who’s right or who’s wrong because frankly I don’t know.

Personally, I try to avoid R-rated movies, not because I think they’re the eleventh commandment but because I’ve seen a few in my day and have usually regretted it afterwards. Saving Private Ryan haunted me for weeks. Schindler’s List depressed me for a month.

Mr. Speilberg, I’d like to have those weeks of my life back, please.

In any case, I don’t think ill of those who DO watch R-rated movies. In fact, some of my closest friends, people who I hold in the highest esteem and respect, watch R-ratd movies all the time. I think no less of them.

But for me, R-rated movies are generally not a good idea. I dwell too much on what it is that made them R. “Oh it was that,” I say, when I reach a particularly offensive moment. “That’s what made it R.”

Then I proceed to think about ONLY that for the next 48 hours.

So you can imagine how thrilled I was when my wife bought me a DVD player that edits R-rated movies.

“Holy guacamole!” I scream. “This is amazing.”

I frantically read the side of the box, which features a photo of a family gleefully watching a TV screen, which we assume is broadcasting an edited DVD.

“Is this for real?” I ask. “This thing really edits movies? I’m not being punk’d, am I?”

My wife knows that I have a laundry list of movies that I would love to see but haven’t because of that infamous letter R. Nothing would make me happier than to own a magical little box that sprinkles fairy dust on R-rated movies, turning them into guilt-free entertainment.

“No joke,” she says. “It’s the genuine article.”

I’m beside myself with joy.

The box indicates that the DVD player is made by a company called ClearPlay, which has been around for several years now and is probably known by everyone who lives in the state of Utah but which is still new and novel to those of us out here “in the mission field.”

The technology is simple. But to explain it, one must first explain what the other guys were doing.

A few years ago, a couple of companies in Utah started selling edited DVDs. It’s worked like this. They would buy an R-rated DVD, say, The Matrix; rip all the content from the DVD onto a computer; edit out all the objectionable content; burn the new, edited movie onto a blank DVD; and then sell or rent the new edited DVD.

This caused an uproar in Hollywood since many directors strongly oppose anyone touching and manipulating their art. They called it copyright infringment.

Picasso would never allow someone to grab a paintbrush and slap paint over his masterpieces. Why should movie directors think any differently?

The result was a series of lawsuits, of course, and in the end, those companies that sold and rented edited DVDs lost out. They could have continued to appeal, but last year they all threw in the towel. Continued litigation was just too expensive.

So all the companies (the largest of which was Clean Flicks) sold off their inventories and went out of business.

ClearPlay, however, was spared. It survived. And the reason why it survived is what makes the concept of ClearPlay so ingenious.

Unlike the other guys, ClearPlay does not sell or rent DVDs, the cash cow of movie studios. Instead, ClearPlay makes and sells a DVD player with proprietary software that plays R-rated movies however you want them to be played.

And I mean any old R-rated movies. Ones you buy at Wal-Mart or Target. Not copies. The real deal.

DVDs, you see, are digital. They can be skipped and muted easily. So if you don’t want to hear any profanity, you simply select that option on the DVD player menu, and the movie will mute out the profanity when it coms along.

Or if you don’t want to see that nude scene, simply select that option on the DVD player menu, and the DVD player will skip the entire scene.

It’s marvelous.

And the greatest part is, you have total control. The profanity option isn’t just a yes or no switch. There are four levels of profanity filtering: none, least, medium, most. That way, if you’re only bothered by the F-bomb, you can let the other profane words play as they come. And the same goes for the other filtering options:

Violence

Sex

Nudity

Bloodshed

Substance abuse

Blasphemy

Disturbing content

Bigotry

Dishonoring parent

Dishonoring the flag

Mushiness

Each of these settings has its own level of filtering that you determine.

Some of these categories seem a little odd to me. I’m not sure what mushiness is exactly, but I assume it means any display of romantic affection. Heaven forbid Little Timmy sees the movie stars kiss in the street at the end of the romantic comedy.

But that’s just it. That’s the beauty of ClearPlay. If you’re bothered by mushiness, you don’t have to see it. You can skip the last kiss and jump straight to the credits.

But don’t celebrate just yet. Like all good things, there is a catch.

Each movie requires its own filter, its only little program, a small computer file that must be loaded onto the DVD player before the player can filter the content. Otherwise the DVD player will play the film exactly as it was intended, unfiltered.

So the DVD player comes with a flash drive (also called a jump drive) that plugs into the USB port on your computer. And this is what you must do:

1. Go to the ClearPlay website (www.clearplay.com).

2. Find the filter that corresponds to the movie you’re looking for.

3. Download the filter.

4. Put the filter on the flash drive.

5. Unplug the flash drive from your computer.

6. Plug the flash drive into the USB port on the front of the DVD player.

7. Flip through the menu until you find the filter and load it onto the DVD player’s memory.

This process took me forever to figure out. The instruction manual that came with the DVD player was far too complex. And the website gives no instruction for people who own a Mac computer, which I do. My wife had to call customer service, and I had to have an online chat with one of their tech support people before we figured out how to use the freaking thing.

I don’t know if it will be as difficult for PC users, but I can’t imagine it being much easier. The instruction manual seemed dated, like it was written for a previous model.

So if you’re going to make the leap, be prepared for a frustrating start.

Also be aware that the on-screen menu is not particularly user friendly. These guys may be smart programmers, but they’re not product designers. If you’re going to launch a new, complex electronic device, you’ve got to make it stupidly simple to use.

I will say, however, that the ClearPlay employees who helped my wife and me were very kind. So no issues with customer service.

Also, you should know that the filters are available on an unlimited basis for a monthly fee. So for eight bucks a month or something you can download as many movie filters as you like.

I have no idea how many filters the DVD player will hold, however. I couldn’t find its storage capacity anywhere in the manual or online. I’m just waiting for it to tell me that it’s full and can’t hold any more filters.

Again, you would think the manual would have such fundamental information.

So figuring out how to operate the thing is a bear.

But once you do, you’ll love it. My wife and I have already loaded over 100 filters onto the machine. We’ve got a list a mile long of movies we plan to watch in the future, R-rated movies we’ve always wanted to see.

So far we’ve seen Little Miss Sunshine, The Wedding Crashers (yes, they have that one), and One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.

They were all excellent and free of profanity, nudity, and violence. My wife and I don’t mind the mushiness, however, so we did see plenty of that.

Don’t expect to find every movie, though. There are only about 700 R-rated filters available. That may sound like a lot, but the list of R-rated movies out there is much, much longer. Some of the movies I was hoping to see weren’t available.

Plus some movies just can’t be filtered. When I requested that ClearPlay create a filter for The Departed, for example, they emailed back and apologized, saying they doubted they would ever have a filter for the film. The movie is so egregiously violent that if they created a filter to cut every objectionable scene, the film would run three and a half minutes, and that includes the credits.

So it’s not a perfect setup. But you can’t fault ClearPlay for trying.

The DVD player is priced at $100, and it’s worth every dime. The big downside is that now my life is going to be consumed with watching movies. The upside, however, is that when I go to Blockbuster now, I’ll easily find something to rent.

In short, it’s the best #$*+%! form of family entertainment. (Note: Some content has been filtered.)

At some point in time — I’m not sure when — the makers of Cheerios got together and met in their big conference room down at Cheerios headquarters for an emergency Cheerios meeting.

“We’re not selling enough Cheerios,” said the boss man at the head of the table.

“Yeah,” said his kiss-up underling. “He’s right. We’re not selling enough Cheerios.”

“All these sugar cereals are chipping away at our market share,” said the boss man. “They’re eating us alive.”

“No pun intended,” said the kiss-up, chuckling.

No one else laughed. Cheerios is serious business after all, and no one really liked the kiss-up anyway.

The boss man continued. “We’ve got to be inventive, people. We’ve got think outside the cereal box. Cheerios with milk isn’t enough anymore. We need to increqase demand by giving consumers new uses for Cheerios.”

“What about Cheerios as a party mix?” said one man.

“No no,” said the boss. “Chex owns the party mix angle.”

“What about putting Cheerios in recipes?” said a woman. “You know, like Corn Flakes does.”

The boss man grimaced. “Cheerios Chicken Suprise? Please you’re making me nauseated. Think different, people. Think uncharted territory.”

“What if we encourage little kids to glue their Cheerios to the pictures they draw in pre-school?” said a woman.

“Now that’s an idea!” said the boss man, beaming. “Somebody write that down.”

And somebody did.

“What about dry Cheerios?” said a shy little man in the back.

“Dry Cheerios?” asked the boss man.

“Yeah. Like in a little baggie or something. Parents could give it to their kids in places where they can’t take normal food. Like at church.”

The boss man rubbed his chin thoughtfully, a glimmer of hope twinkling in his eyes. “Cheerios at church. Yes, you may be on to something there. Parents are always trying to shut their kids up at church. What better way to do that than to stuff their little mouths full of Cheerios?”

He snapped his fingers and pointed to a sharp nosed man by the door. “Wilson! I want a press release written to every parenting magazine in America. Tell ’em Cheerios is now the official children’s food of every religion in the world.”

“But can we say that, chief?” asked Wilson. “Don’t we need the religions of the world to agree to–”

“Do it!” said the boss man, and Wilson scampered from the room.

“Kowolski,” continued the boss man, snapping to a tubby man in a bowtie. “Call every mother’s organization this side of the moon. Tell them how Cheerios can turn their irreverent little rascals into perfect little angels.”

Kowolski was no idiot. He hopped to it without so much as a word.

And soon everyone in the room had an assignment, rushing here and there like a cluster of bees, writing to the press, calling the Today show, testing the Cheerios capacity of a Ziploc bag — all while the boss man sat smiling in his tall leather chair, confident that he had once again pulled the flailing Cheerios box from the brink of extinction.

Since that fateful day, children everywhere have been dipping their sticky little fingers into sandwich bags the world over to grab a handful of dry Cheerios. And while they may not be perfect little angels while they’re doing it, they are at least quiet for a few moments, much to the delight of their exhausted parents.

So you can imagine my shock when the bishop of our ward recently asked parents not to bring food for their children into sacrament meeting.

Surely he doesn’t mean Cheerios, I thought to myself.

“And that includes Cheerios,” said the bishop.

I couldn’t believe it. I was dumbstruck. Could the Church still be true? Can we go on without Cheerios during sacrament meeting?

But no, I told myself. I wouldn’t allow my faith to be shaken — although I did for a moment wonder if this was one of the signs of the times, like the moon turning to blood.

The bishop smiled pleasantly. “Some of you may be wondering why the bishopric is making this request.”

Darn tootin’, I thought.

“Well, since the chapel is a special place where the Spirit of the Lord can dwell,” the bishop said, “we’d like to keep it as clean as possible. We know this may be a change of habit for many of you, but our hope is that by removing food from Sacrament meeting children will be more focused on the speakers and the Spirit present.”

I couldn’t argue with that. That man was talking sense. I heard what he was saying.

I also heard what he wasn’t saying, which was: (1) food is a distraction that inhibits children from participating fully in sacrament meeting worship. And (2) food is messy.

Personally, I think he’s right on both counts.

Let’s face it. Kids aren’t the most delicate of eaters. Only about 70% of the food they attempt to put in their mouth actually gets there. The rest ends up on their clothes, the pews or the floor.

And we’ve all seen what happens to Cheerios that fall on the floor. Try as you might to pick them all up, some are going to escape your notice. And those, inevitably, are going to be stepped on and ground into the carpet. Thousands of tiny Cheerios particles squashed into the floor of our meeting house. At that point, you’re only hope is a powerful vacuum cleaner. And that’s not going to come around for five days or so, at the earliest.

And the same can be said for saltine crackers and Pepperidge Farm fishy crackers and Ritz crackers and any other type of cracker you fancy. Or cookies. Or Fig Newtons (which aren’t cookies in my book, so don’t even go there). Or granola bars. Or candy bars. Or whatever.

I’m ashamed to admit that we have even given apple slices to our children during sacrament meeting. Yes, noisy, crunchy apple slices. In retrospect I don’t know what we were thinking. Apple slices, like carrot sticks, are obnoxiously loud foods that could disrupt the people immediately around you, not to mention a beast to clean out of the carpet should somebody step on one.

Some dear friends of ours have always followed this rule. They never gave food to their children during sacrament meeting. It just wasn’t done.

“Sacrament meeting is barely over an hour,” my friend said. “Children can go without food for an hour. They do so all day. Why do we feel the need to feed them during sacrament meeting?”

I was nodding along as he told me this. It made perfect sense, after all. But then my family and I went to sacrament meeting the following Sunday, and our kids started asking for a snack. Giving them one, I realized, was much easier than trying to explain to their hungry little eyes that the rule we had been living by was, in fact, wrong and that we would not, in fact, be eating during sacrament meeting anymore. Such news would not go over well. So I stuffed an apple slice in their yappers and went back to listening to the speaker.

But all of us eat and drink during sacrament meeting, you say. We all partake of the sacrament.

And I’m glad you brought that up, because the sacrament ordinance may be the best reason for not having food for our children during sacrament meeting.

Consider the child who eats snacks during sacrament meeting. When the bread comes around, he’s going to consider it a piece of bread, a bite of food no different from anything else he chomps on during the meeting.

Now consider the child who doesn’t eat during sacrament meeting. When the bread comes around, there’s a better chance of him identifying it as special. He’s going to think, “Wow. we’re not supposed to eat during sacrament meeting, and yet everyone eats this bread and drinks this water. Perhaps I should pay more attention to this.”

And even if he doesn’t think that exactly, he’s at least going to be curious and perhaps ask questions. And what parents wouldn’t want their children showing an interest in the sacrament ordinance?

As you can see, I’ve come around to the bishop’s way of thinking. Children who aren’t crunching on carrot sticks are more likely to realize that sacrament meeting is a special time. They’re more likely to feel the Spirit and, as a result, develop a hunger for spiritual things instead of physical, lightly sugared ones.

How far should this rule go, you ask? Does it include sippy cups as well? And what if the sippy cup has a spill-proof top and is filled only with water?

And what about babies who need bottles? Are we going to keep babies from their bottles?

When we start asking these questions, I think we miss the point.

The spirit of the law is clear. Children can worship on Sundays just as much as adults do. Sacrament meeting can and should be just as special a time to them as it is to you and me — so special that even snacks would be considered an interruption.

Now, am I so naive to think that kids without snacks will suddenly lose their wiggles and sit arms crossed, reverently listening to the speaker. Of course not. But it can’t hurt to try.

At the very least, our abandoning Cheerios will send the head honchos down at Cheerios headquarters into another Cheerios emergency meeting. And I don’t know about you, but I’d be interested to see what those geniuses think up next.

In I Love Lucy, whenever Lucy would wreak havoc at home, breaking something or making a mess of the kitchen, Ricky would waltz in at just the wrong moment, give his wife a scornful look, and say, “Lucy, you got a lot ‘splaining to do!”

Well, I imagine many of you readers are thinking the same thing. “Aaron, you got a lot ‘splaining to do!”

“Where have you been all these months?” you ask. “Why no columns? Did you go inactive?”

Well, no, I didn’t go inactive — not in a religious sense, anyway. Physically, I went very inactive indeed. I’m terribly out of shape. Climbing a step ladder could send me into cardiac arrest.

But inactive from church? Not by a long shot. Or as we sing, “‘I’ll never, no never, no never forsake!”

No, the reason why I haven’t written a column in eons is because my family and I moved across country and I’ve begun a new job that keeps me insanely busy.

Maybe you can relate. I’ve talked with several people recently and monitored the work schedules of siblings and parents, and it seems like everyone I know is putting in longer hours these days.

Nine to five is a thing of the past. These days it’s eight to six. Or nine to seven. I even have a friend who regularly works until eight in the evening. Seven-thirty if he’s lucky. And this is an active, family-loving, salt-of-the-earth type of fellow. Not one of these career types obsessed with making a name for himself.

And maybe this isn’t a new trend. Maybe I’m just growing up and realizing what it means to be an adult in the real world. Maybe you’ve been living this way for years.

Either way, it’s new to me. Yes, I worked hard in my previous job, but I worked from home. If I wanted to see my kids, I only had to leave the room that was my office and there they were. It was great.

Nowadays I hustle to get home before they go to bed.

And what’s my point? you ask. Why the ramble on the sad and busy state of my life? And more importantly, how does this relate to the title of this column?

Well, all of this is a long way of saying that family time is sacred time, especially on Sunday. If you’re going to home teach us — and by all means please do — don’t stay too long. Our family loves you; we’re grateful you’re sacrificing some of your time to do your priesthood duty; but for the sake of our family and yours, visit us only as long as needed.

And how long is that? Well, that depends.

Last week, when I was doing my own home teaching, visiting a family of five small children, my companion and I were in and out in fifteen minutes. That’s coming in, catching up, sharing a message, saying a prayer, and then skeedaddling.

When the mother realized that we were leaving so quickly she looked surprised, as if she expected us to stay longer.

“Fifteen minutes? That’s it? That’s as much as you love our family?”

My response (had she actually asked those questions) would have been, “Sister, our brevity is PROOF that we love your family. Every minute you spend acting as hostess to us is a minute you could have spent together as a family doing family things. We’re only going to stay as long as we’re needed. Then we’re going to vamoose.”

But then the question naturally arises. Is fifteen minutes the right amount of time for everyone?

My answer is no. I also home teach an elderly widow who rarely gets visitors and who is thrilled to have us come by and who talks our ears off whenever we do. Last time we were at her house, we stayed for an hour and forty-five minutes. That’s a long time yes, but it was precisely the amount of time this sister needed. Fifteen minutes would have been too brief. She needed someone to talk to.

So there is no set length of time for home teaching visits. But whoever it is you’re visiting I think it’s wise to:

1. Stay only as long as you’re needed and not a second more.

Err on the side of brevity. It’s like theater. Leave the audience wanting more. Over stay your welcome, and you’ll suddenly be less welcome.

The Spirit will guide us of course, but if the family is active and there are little children about: get in, get out, thank you and good night.

2. Share a message.

I’m not a fan of the chit-chatter, the home teacher who makes small talk for half an hour, then slaps his knee and says, “Well we best be off then.”

This guy is not a home teacher. He’s a home small-talk maker.

If you’re going to come to my home and gather my family as a priesthood representative, share a message. The First Presidency goes to great pains to prepare these messages each month; the least we can do as home teachers is share them with those over whom we have stewardship.

And if not the message in the Ensign, then we should share a message particularly meaningful to the family. Again, the Spirit will guide us.

Yes, it’s important to be a friend to the family or the individual member, but bringing the Spirit into the home and strengthening faith should be our primary objective.

3. Love the family, no matter what.

Some people don’t want to be home taught. Let’s face it. Some people, inactive and active alike, don’t like home teachers coming around. Maybe home teachers make them feel guilty about not going to church and rather than having to confront their guilt, they avoid you.

Or maybe their home teachers stayed too long during their last visit (see rule number one).

Or maybe a home teacher bopped them on their head once and took their lunch money.

Who knows? The fact is, these people don’t want to be home taught.

And this is a problem. Because unlike the missionaries, who can simply stop going to someone’s house if the person is not interested, home teachers have an obligation to be that person’s home teacher. We can’t just stop going.

This doesn’t mean we should anger people of course. If someone asks you not to come back, I’m of the opinion that we should honor their request — or at the very least we should contact the proper priesthood authority for guidance. Maybe there’s someone else in the ward with whom the person feels more comfortable and with whom they would entertain a home teaching visit.

Who knows? The point is, regardless of how enthusiastically we are received, we should always love the families we are assigned — even if their dog vomits on our shoes.

And speaking of dogs vomiting on shoes, allow me to tell you about Brother Stinkyshoe (name has been changed).

When I was a kid, Brother Stinkyshoe was our home teacher. And he was a good one.

On one occasion, our poodle Peaches (name has NOT been changed) entered the living room during a home teaching visit, walked over to Brother Stinkyshoe’s polished dress shoes, and blew chunks.

My family and I were appalled. The dog just hurled on the home teacher!

What was especially disturbing, however, was that Peaches had tossed her cookies so causally and gracefully that had you not known the dog as well as we did, you would have assumed that she had done so intentionally, that giving back what she had only partially digested was no accident.

You would have thought, this dog doesn’t like this man, and this is how she says so.

Now, had I been Brother Stinkyshoe, I would have gone ballistic, not out of anger, mind you, but out of sheer disgust, shrieking and hollering and kicking my foot in a violent fashion in the hope of dislodging the shoe from it.

This would have would gone over very poorly.

Fortuntely, Brother Stinkyshoe showed incredible restraint and patience. Rather than get angry, he had a good laugh. And even more impressive, he came back next month to visit us again, albeit in a much more expendable pair of shoes.

In other words, no matter how poorly your received or treated, do your darndest not to sling your shoe. Love the family for who they are. Wackiness and all.

4. Everyone should get a home teacher.

In my last ward, there was this odd policy that “some families don’t need a home teacher.” In other words, if the family is active and doing well, they don’t need a visit from the priesthood. Let’s focus our efforts on those families who really need us, who are in spiritual dire straits and who can benefit from some special attention.

OK, I understand the principle here. And in some places this may be the best way to operate. I’m not going to argue with priesthood leaders who are entitled to relevant revelation.

But on the whole, I think this is a bad idea. First off, if you live in a ward that follows this policy, what are going to think if you have a home teacher?

Answer: You’re going to think that you’ve been singled out as a special case. You’re going to think that the bishop considers you a lost sheep or a delicate member. And that’s not particularly flattering.

And even if that isn’t news to you, even if you agree that you’re a special case, the fact that you have home teachers means that THEY know you’re a special case too. Having a home teacher means “Hey, this person has issues, boys. Fix ’em.”

And conversely, if you have issues and would like special attention but DON’T have home teachers assigned to you, you’re going to think that the bishop doesn’t consider your problems great enough to warrant home teachers. You may even begin to wonder if anyone cares. And so your problems continue and perhaps even worsen.

And therein lies the second problem to this practice. Home teaching is now a rescue operation, not a perfect-the-saints operation. How will we know if a person or family needs the priesthood if we’re not visiting them regularly? How will we know if someone who hasn’t been assigned home teachers suddenly needs them?

And why don’t good people need constant spiritual guidance?

No, the greatest fault of this type of home teaching program is that it assumes that “good” people will remain good and never require assistance.

This became particularly acute to us when our son Luke was sick and needed a priesthood blessing. Normally, I would have called one of our home teachers to come over and assist me. But since we didn’t have home teachers assigned to us, I didn’t know who to call.

What resulted was my calling someone and apologizing.

“Hey, I know you’re not our home teacher and I’m sorry to bother you like this, but would you mind coming over and helping me give my son a blessing?”

Of course the person was willing and claimed not to be inconvenienced at all, but it bothered me to have to pull someone away from his family, someone who had no priesthood obligation to watch over mine.

Gratefully, we’re now in a ward that assigns everyone home teachers. We love it. Now I feel like we’re being acknowledged and cared for and that willing, guilt-free help is only a phone call away.

5. Don’t schedule an appointment at the last minute.

Don’t call me Sunday afternoon and ask if you can swing by in a few minutes. This is inconsiderate. I will feel obligated to say yes, and that isn’t fair.

The house could be in disarray. We could be eating. We could have company over. We could be having a family activity. Whatever. Calling and scheduling an appointment at the last minute is impolite.

If you’re going to set an appointment, set one a few days in advance. Give the family time to arrange their schedule to accommodate your visit.

Last minute appointment setting suggests that that the homes teacher doesn’t consider his visits all that important.

Mind you, I don’t think setting appointments should be a formal affair, but I do think that we should be considerate to a family’s schedule. If you call a family and they invite you to come over immediately, then by all means we should. But they should decide that, not us.

And for the record, “seeing someone at church” is not home teaching. That’s church teaching — and probably not teaching at all. It’s polite conversation. Of course we’ll talk to your home teachees at church. They’re our friends, after all, and we have a special interest in their welfare. We should not, says I, count these hallways hellos as a home teaching visit.

So there you have it, my five rules of proper home teaching etiquette and a rather lame excuse for not having written a column in so long a time. Until next time, it’s all the ‘splaining I can do.

Ring! Ring!

I pick up the phone. “Hello?”

“Yes,” say two female voices in unison. “This is Katrina and Rita with your wake-up call.”

It’s sad that it has taken two catastrophic hurricanes to remind me of how incredibly unprepared I am for an emergency, but it’s true. Were an earthquake to strike in my neck of the woods tomorrow–and that’s the most likely natural disaster to confront me since my family and I live near a fault line–I’d be waterless, food-less, flashlight-less, helpless.

In short, I got nothing packed.

My seventy-two hour kit, which my wife and I assembled years ago, and have been scavenging from ever since, is now a seventy-two seconds kit. (It would take me that long to rummage through it, realize there’s nothing there of value, and then unleash a slew of shameful profanities.)

To add insult to injury, my stake president recently told me about an interview he had read several years ago with one of the directors of some federal emergency response agency. (It might have been FEMA, but he couldn’t remember).

In the interview, which was given before 9/11, the federal worker said that the top three disaster threats in the United States were:

1. A terrorist attack in New York City.

2. A devastating hurricane striking below-sea-level New Orleans.

3. A massive earthquake in California.

Quite the prognosticator. Two of those three threats have occurred.

Which leaves only one: the earthquake.

I politely thanked the stake president for giving me something else to keep me up at night (If you couldn’t guess, I live in California), and then went home to wait for the walls to crumble.

And in the meantime, I’ve asked myself: Why is being prepared for an emergency such a difficult commandment to keep? And I think we can all agree that it is a commandment–or at the least a very strong suggestion. We’ve been told to have our year’s supply for some time now.

But instead of actually getting our year’s supply, many of us simply watch the news as it broadcasts images of laid to waste countryside and think, “Golly, I’m glad I don’t live there.”

So what keeps us from doing it? Why do many of us drag our feet on emergency preparedness?

Dinero

The biggest and best excuse is likely money. Keeping a stock of needed supplies is an expense, and not a cheap one at that. Food supplies have to be replenished periodically–even the long shelf-life items. Leave them to sit for years, and they might go bad.

So new cans of vegetables must be bought. New batteries must be purchased. New beef must be jerked. (And that’s the verb, by the way: jerk. Not jerkied. I had to look that up. Maybe you already knew that, but it made me wonder: Why do we call it beef jerky and not beef jerked? Hmm. A question for another time perhaps.)

And if you’re starting from scratch on your food storage, the expense is even greater. Flashlights. A little gas stove, maybe. Some big containers of water. A flare gun (optional, of course, but sure to be the coolest thing in your pack).

Plus you need something to hold it all in, a cabinet, a backpack, a trunk. Something.

All of that adds up real quick. And if you’re like me, who lives check to check and who does a happy dance if the savings account gets any surplus, finding the cash to take the big leap can be a real challenge.

But here’s the good news: according to the First Presidency, you don’t have to do it all at once. In a letter to the stake presidents and bishops of the church regarding a year’s supply of food, they said:

“Some members do not have the money . . . for such storage, and some are prohibited by law from storing a year’s supply of food. These members should store as much as their circumstances allow. Families who do not have the resources to acquire a year’s supply can begin their storage by obtaining supplies to last for a few months. Members should be prudent and not panic or go to extremes in this effort. Through careful planning, most Church members can, over time, establish . . . a year’s supply of essentials.” [First Presidency, January 20, 2002].

So preparing our food storage should be an incremental task. A little bit here. A little more there. We add to it over time. But that’s the second problem.

Remembering To Do It

If you’re like my family, most trips to the grocery store are for a few items only. A gallon of milk perhaps. A loaf of bread. Oreo ice cream. You know, the essentials.

Only rarely do we go and stock up, filling a grocery cart with the food we’ll eat for the next few weeks. Part of that is due to the cost of living in Southern California–a box of Fruit Loops costs about $300, if I’m not mistaken–so big grocery lists almost never occur.

And when we make our small grocery lists, the last thing on our minds is a large container of powdered milk or some other food-storage item. “We’ll get that later,” we tell ourselves. “Next trip to Costco,” we tell ourselves.

But the Costco trip comes and goes and still no powdered milk.

My wife and I would do better if we had a device that reminded us as we left the grocery store to buy something for our food supply. A little beeper in the car perhaps with an electronic voice that said, “No powdered milk detected. No powdered milk detected.”

Or more dramatically, “I’m sorry. You cannot start the vehicle without powdered milk. Please return to the store and make your purchase.”

Or even more dramatically: an ejection seat that jettisons us from the car and lands us in the powdered milk aisle.

Or even more dramatically, a powdered-milk-man thug who rides shotgun wherever we go and breaks out the brass knuckles whenever mommy and daddy forget the food storage.

OK, you see my point. We need help remembering. Our feeble little minds are too easily distracted by other things for us to remember to buy . . . Hey look! A shiny thing!

Sadly, the First Presidency offers no advice for people who simply can’t remember to do it.

If they did, the letter would go something like this:

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

Remember to do it.

Sincerely,

The First Presidency

Because what more can you say than that? We simply have to make food storage a priority. If we don’t have a testimony of it, all we need do is speak with anyone who desperately needed their food supply and either A. had it or B. didn’t. Either way, they’ll swear how important it is.

And if that doesn’t motivate us to remember, nothing will.

Finding Space

My family and I live in an apartment, so finding space to store food and supplies can be a real doozy. Empty closet space there ain’t. Every crevice and corner is occupied.

In the letter from the First Presidency I’ve already mentioned, the Brethren acknowledge space as a concern and basically say, “Do the best you can with what you’ve got. Be prudent.”

Again, comforting advice.

My wife and I have discovered the wonder of the tub. And by that I don’t mean we’ve only recently learned to bathe ourselves. I speak of the plastic tub, the storage bin.

Tubs come in all shapes and sizes and can fit anywhere: at the bottom of closets, under beds, on closet shelves, behind furniture. They’re the wonderfully adaptable storage unit.

There are plenty of retailers who offer these plastic wonders, my favorite being Ikea (www.ikea.com), which offers a wide selection of colors and sizes. Some with lids. Some without. And even if you’re not interested in their products, Ikea has wonderful ideas on where to store household items and how to maximize space.

If you’re storing dry goods, providentliving.org suggests you use PETE plastic containers, which are clear containers with good oxygen barrier qualities. So the dry goods will stay dryer longer.

In fact, I should mention that providentliving.org has a lot of excellent suggestions. The site is run and managed by the Church and is a must for anyone wanting to begin or maintain a food supply.

But as anyone who’s experienced a disaster first hand can tell you, a good food supply is only one of many necessities.

Which is why the Church encourages us also to stay out of debt, save for the future, and have good insurance.

All that and more will help us be ready for whatever challenges life will bring. Because if I’ve learned anything from watching hurricane news coverage recently, it’s (1) A lot of on-camera male reporters wear far too much makeup, and (2) Life brings challenges whether we’re ready for them or not.

So we might as well be ready. Otherwise the wake-up call will come, not in the aftermath news coverage, but as the disaster rages around us.

And should a disaster come before I’m ready, look for my flare in the sky. It’s a desperate plea for you to come over and bring me some powdered milk.

If you’ve had your political ears open and wax-free recently, you’ve likely heard the name of Mitt Romney, governor of the great state of Massachusetts.

Utahans know Romney as the president and CEO of the Salt Lake Olympic Organizing Committee, who not only lifted the 2002 Olympic games out of hang-your-head scandal, but also put on a crowd-pleasing show.

And if you haven’t guessed it already, Romney himself is LDS and, though he has not officially said as much, has given plenty of winks and knowing nudges to suggest he will make a bid for the White House in 2008.

That’s right, an aw-shucks, golly-gee-willickers Mormon boy is planning to run for President.

This won’t be the first time, of course. Joseph Smith announced his candidacy for the presidency in February of 1844, only months before his death. Utah’s Orrin Hatch made an unsuccessful bid in 2000. And even Romney’s own father, George Romney, three-time governor of Michigan, ran for President in 1968.

None of them won obviously. And, truth be told, none of them were even close to becoming their party’s official nominee.

A Mormon in the White House there simply has not been.

In fact, Protestant presidents have reigned supreme for quite some time now.

John F. Kennedy was the first and only Catholic President, and since then only Protestant feet have been propped up on the desk of the Oval Office. John Kerry, a Catholic, came mighty close to breaking this trend, but sadly, no cigar. (Or not so sadly depending on your political persuasions).

What’s interesting, however, is how people’s attitudes have changed. According to an article for Slate Magazine, Americans insist they would not hold a candidate’s religious preference against him.

Well, that’s not completely accurate. It depends on the religion in question. For example, in 1937, 47 percent of people polled said they wouldn’t vote for a Jewish presidential candidate.

But in 1999, 92 percent said they would happily vote for a Jew, while only six percent said they wouldn’t. The remaining two percent, I can only guess, had no idea what a president was.

Similarly, in 1958, 27 percent of those polled said they would not vote for a Catholic. But in 1999, only four percent said they wouldn’t.

Sounds great, right?

Well, then there’s Mormons. In 1967 – not all that long ago relatively – 17 percent of Americans said they wouldn’t vote for a Mormon. But in 1999, the number hadn’t changed. Nearly one in five Americans still stamp their feet at the idea of a Mormon president.

Gallup, who conducted the surveys, didn’t even bother asking about a Muslim candidate.

And what about an atheist?

Forgetaboutit. Less than half of those polled said they would vote for an atheist.

But a gay president? Maybe. Fifty-nine percent they could vote for a gay candidate.

My conclusion: Mitt Romney has a rough road ahead of him. Seventeen percent is a big percent.

And if he runs for president, it’s only going to get worse. Because politics is war, folks. These guys don’t pull any punches. They will use his membership in the Church against him.

Well, his opponents won’t do it directly. Bringing religion into the equation would only paint them as prejudiced bullies. So they’ll have the media do their dirty work for them.

I can see the press conference now.

REPORTER: Governor Romney, it’s no secret that you’re a Mormon and that Mormons clearly follow the counsel of their supposed prophet. How then would you respond if your prophet told you God wanted you to invade North Korea?

REPORTER #2: Governor Romney, Mormon doctrine supports the idea of modern-day visitation of angels. Have you yourself ever seen an angel and, secondly, what would you say to one who told you to invade North Korea?

REPORTER #3: Governor Romney, while not a practice now, polygamy was once widely practiced by Mormons. If the practice were to return, would you support legislation protecting it as an expression of freedom of religion? And secondly, would you ever take a North Korean as a second wife?

Romney, I’ve read, is a gee-whiz smooth talker and can likely give excellent, rational answers to these questions. (He was first in his class at BYU and went on to earn both an MBA and a law degree from Harvard.)

But it doesn’t matter. The damage will be done. The questions themselves will drive people away and build an offensive against him.

I hope I’m wrong. I hope the Church never becomes an issue.

But I’m not betting money on it. The U.S. presidency is arguably the most important post in the entire free world. People and their special interests will do anything to get it.

Even take a jab at Mormonism.

Consider Ted Kennedy, who opposed Romney in 1994 in a tight Senate race. Kennedy, who had held the post for decades and who was shocked to see himself slipping in the polls, attacked Romney indirectly by giving attention to the Church’s long-standing policy on minorities and the priesthood, which wasn’t changed until 1978.

The tactic backfired somewhat and Kennedy took some heat as a religious bigot, but again, the damage was already done. Many minorities lost faith in the handsome, squeaky-clean Mormon candidate.

Politics. It’s an ugly business.

That said, I have to admit that I am somewhat enchanted at the idea of an LDS president. What would his ward calling be, I wonder? Scout master? Primary teacher? Counselor in the bishopric, meaning he reports to someone else on Sundays?

And what about tithing? Will he use official presidential envelopes with the official presidential seal? And what he pay, ten percent of his gross income? Or net?

And who will do his home-teaching while he’s away at summits or visiting foreign dignitaries?

And what of the Secret Service? They’ll obviously tail the President to all his Sunday meetings. Will they partake of the sacrament or simply pass the tray?

And speaking of the Secret Service, what will the President drive, a bullet-proof mini-van?

And if the White House gets an Ensign subscription, who will it be addressed to? Brother Mr. President? Sister First Lady?

And what about missionary work? Will the president do his duty and give Vladimir Putin a pass-along card?

Hmmm . . .

These are questions we must ask ourselves.

And as for Mitt Romney, in the end it’s going to come down to two things: where he stands on the issues and his performance as governor.

As for the issues, he opposes gay marriage, stem cell research, and honors a “moratorium” on abortion in which he agrees not to attempt to change the state abortion law.

And as for a his successes as governor . . . well, the successes are few and far between, I’m sad to say. Romney has had little luck passing his proposals through the Democratic-controlled state legislature. In short, they’re making his life very difficult.

Personally, I don’t think Mitt Romney has much of a chance. Bigger names like John McCain, Rudy Giuliani, and Bill Frist are said to be testing the presidential waters. I don’t think Romney can hold his own against these guys.

And according to an article in the Times Argus, Romney may be thinking the same. Expect a decision this fall.

And in the meantime, let’s all sit back and consider what it would be like to have an active, upstanding Latter-day Saint in the White House.

Ah to dream.