Laura Bush, that is. I heard this morning that she is voicing her support for President Obama’s desire to deliver a beginning-of-school message to be aired in public schools this week. As you’re probably aware, this move on the President’s part has provoked quite a response from people concerned about public schools now becoming a site of political indoctrination (c’mon, folks–when hasn’t it been? I remember my elementary school teachers wearing black ribbons the week after a union proposal had been defeated). Amid the frenzy of advance and retreat in this little political skirmish, the former First Lady seems to be holding up the white flag of non-partisanship. As one who has taught high school and who’s willing to bet at least $3 that 75% of the students will be sleeping/talking/texting through the message anyway (poor President Obama–I think he overestimates his ability to influence the school-aged youth. Now if, say, Simon Cowell told them to study hard…), I’m grateful that someone is showing the good sense to deflate the situation a bit.

Happy Back-to-School, everyone!

So far during the year and nine months of our marriage, my husband and I have never bought tin foil. I realized that today as I was prepping some baked potatoes and unfurled the last of our second-to-last roll. Granted, we don’t use tin foil that often and we started off our marriage with about four rolls scavenged from Dave’s bachelor pad (he was the last one to move out, which meant that we had to clean everything but we also got to keep everything. Still not sure we got the better end of the deal). But as I wrapped the potatoes in the foil, I thought a little wistfully that at some point we are actually going to have to buy the things that we’ve generally happened into gratis. Who ever buys soy sauce, for example? We’re still working on the two and a half bottles from Dave’s old apartment. And there’s no need to buy napkins if you go to Five Guys often enough to have a ready stock from the last trip. I’ve given up saving the little packets of ketchup, mayonnaise, and mustard that come with sandwiches, but if I hadn’t, we’d have quite a store of those, too. And that brings me to the Tin Foil Indicator of Economic Prosperity.

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Circa 1988: I have my first experience with seriously procrastinated homework and end up doing my math problems by flashlight long after I’m supposed to be asleep.

June 1996: I decide to audition for high school graduation speaker and find myself writing my speech during 6th period journalism, about 20 minutes before the try-outs.

March 2003: Determined to graduate with Honors from BYU but hopelessly far behind on my Great Works requirements, I marathon through about 12 hours in the Lee Library basement computer lab, “reminding” myself (via Wikipedia) of the plots, characters, themes, and criticism of about 50 novels, plays, operas, and films.

June 2005: Fifteen minutes away from defending my master’s thesis, I copy and paste a hodge-podge of relevant quotations, dates, and events into a handout to give to my committee—the handout that is supposed to serve as the overall outline for my presentation. The handout may be (but probably isn’t) spell-checked before I print it off and sprint down the hall to my advisor’s office.

February 17, 2009: At 39.9 weeks pregnant, I turn my back on the disorganized nursery, dirty dishes, and unanswered mail and decide that this is the perfect time to recommence my blogging activity.

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Around the Sloan household, the election was unquestionably the highlight of this week’s news cycle. But this event garnered nearly as much emotion from my scientist husband. Although my personal English major sensibilities were somewhat affronted by the sensationalist titles and blatant marketing of the cover art on his books, Michael Crichton (1942-2008)  inspired more than one nerdy kid to think about science in a new way. 

 

In honor of our last chance to listen, argue, scoff, heckle, comment, disagree, cheer, and critique would-be presidential fashion, Mormon Mentality is offering an open thread discussion during the final presidential debate tonight at 9 p.m. EST. Choose your channel of preference, stock yourself up with debate snacks and political bingo cards, and get comfy with your laptop. So far the RSVP list includes me and ESO (cousins from across the aisle–although you don’t have to be related to us to join in), so already we know the level of discussion will be elevated indeed :). 

Hope to hear from you tonight!

Mama would have been nearly seven months pregnant with me at that time. She already had two little girls — 4-year-old Rosalynde and 2-year-old Gabrielle — and if I’m remembering correctly, they were living in a starter house on Harmony Place, a small cul-de-sac whose idyllic name belied the very large, frightening dog that lived next door. My parents had been married for nearly five years by then, and Daddy was probably working at his first post-law school firm in nearby Los Angeles.

Mama heard about it first. I think there had been a press conference in Salt Lake City, and it had come through on a local radio station. She stopped everything and called Daddy at work — probably a rare occasion, since Los Angeles was a different zip code, so it would have been an expensive long-distance call. Daddy answered, Mama told him, and both of them started weeping. I think I remember hearing that they kneeled down and prayed together, right there on the phone, right there in the office, and thanked God that no worthy man would ever again be denied the opportunity to hold and exercise the holy priesthood.

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I missed the Eighties. Despite being born in 1978 and raised just 20 minutes outside of L.A., I managed never to see Magic Johnson’s famous hook shot that brought the Lakers to victory over the Celtics in 1987. In fact, if a Trivial Pursuit title were in the balance, I probably wouldn’t have been able even to name that classic ‘80s rivalry. Until a couple of months ago, when life gave me a second chance at my most formative decade.

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No, this isn’t as scandalous as it sounds. Just some simple data collection. Where’s your favorite place to blog?

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Courtesy of a friendly reminder from Science Friday, Mormon Mentality is happy to celebrate this common bane of middle schoolers’ existence. How many digits can you do?

3.14159…

I learned a new word yesterday.

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Well, folks, the time has come to quit your day jobs: Mormon Mentality got a shout-out in Des News’s weekly bloggernacle feature! I, for one, expect some sort of book contract to come rolling around next. Thanks, Emily Jensen, for spotlighting Mormon Mentality in this week’s article.

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The public has made its will known, and ESO has joined us as a permablogger! Welcome, cousin (hey, and don’t forget what we discussed about a possible running mate for the Odhiambo ’48 ticket. Odhiambo-Sloan: Hope for the Future, right?).

Nepotism Alert: If this introduction sounds just a little too glowing, perhaps that’s because eso is my super-cool East Coast cousin who, along with her sisters, has been the arbiter of taste in my extended family for decades. One of my favorite parts of visiting my New York cousins is sitting around and listening to them talk. They represent the full spectrum of political and cultural opinion (I’ll leave it to you to figure out where eso falls), and if you want a statement on international development in eastern Europe, the latest education legislation up for debate, travel tips for France, or the hot new Broadway hit, there’s a sister who can deliver for you.

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More politics. Sorry folks, I watched my very first live debate from beginning to end two weeks ago, and I have all of the exuberance of a new addict.

(N. B. I’m ashamed to say that until the age of…oh, 24 or so, I just handed my vote over to my dad, who diligently filled out an absentee ballot for me every November. Has anyone considered the political implications of large Mormon families with lazy college-aged children who allow their parents to vote for them?)

The kerfuffle (Curfuphle? Kurphufle?) among the Democrats these days is, of course, who’s going to win South Carolina, and All Things Considered did an interview this evening with a group of black female voters to find out whom they favored: Hilary the woman or Obama the black man?

Identity politics indeed. Read more »

Christmas started in September that year. A friend in my singles ward—the ward choir director, and an intimidatingly good musician—approached me and asked if I wanted to sing in her Christmas choir. She was applying for a masters program in choral conducting and wanted both the conducting experience and some video footage of the rehearsals and concert, a requirement for her application. The choir would be rehearsing two times a week, an hour and a half each time, for 16 weeks. Attendance was mandatory. No chattiness. We’d all be buying copies of the music since copyright laws really were important. This was not ward choir. Read more »

Things I Did Instead of Writing a Post:

• Cleaned out my inbox. 107 unread messages. 230 unreturned messages. I’m down to 10. Read more »

[Fantasy Football Stats: Nerds of Titanium: 6 and 2] 

Whereby Naomi Frandsen Sloan pledges to eschew: 

Cookies, candy, ice cream, and sugary foods, including: jam, sugary cereals, muffins, juice, and other things such as she knows are not good for her. 

Which means that as I write this post, I am without my usual stimulant of semi-sweet chocolate chips, consumed by the handful every time I stop to think.

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My second Friday. That’s when I understood exactly whom I had married. Read more »