Rough Stone Rolling

In 1974 my parents bought a three-story 3B/2Ba house in the 8400 South 1500 East area of Sandy, UT for $33,000. Perspective: Today you can get a new Toyota FJ Cruiser with GPS and a full-size spare for around that.

As Memorial Day weekend draws to a close, it marks the second straight week we’ve officially been house hunting. The experience has been interesting (if not frustrating) as we’ve watched house, condo and development owners struggle to sustain the idea that their properties are really worth those inflated prices they’re posting… well, maybe a little less… well okay, you’re killing us, but we’ll whack off another $100K just to save time. Indeed, new condo developments 30 miles from Los Angeles– that haven’t even been built yet– are hawking 1,300 sq. ft. “luxury units” for $700,000 without cracking a smile. We’re talking the ‘burbs, people– an hour from the beach– not Malibu, from where thousands will have to commute for up to an hour at $5 a gallon. And these sellers are acting like there’s a demand to meet that supply…like every other house on the block doesn’t already have a ‘For Sale’ sign choking with overgrown weeds.

We’re actually shopping in those suburbs, partly because we can still get more house for the price and mostly because of the quality of life these removed areas offer. The crime is low, the areas groomed and family-oriented, the people largely “normal.” The commute is bruising, but a sacrifice we feel is worth making. And despite the doggedness of those trying to get back what they paid for during those bullish market days 3 years ago, there are some relatively reasonable deals… well, less ridiculous, anyway. We have our eye on a fixer-upper– and when I say “fixer-upper,” I’m not tossing the term out lightly. This place needs a full-blown holy-water-by-Rain-Bird exorcism. On the plus side, it’s larger than the average home in its price range, and it’s funky. My wife calls it a “Brady Bunch home,” and thank goodness for her. A professional designer, she looks beyond the cottage cheese ceilings and moldy carpet, and sees what the place really could be (now you know why she married me). So we’re probably going to make an offer, which only heightens our anxiety. Investing all that money and labor into something we hope is the right choice. Thousands take this step every day, but that doesn’t lighten our hearts any. This is a time where we really need to be in tune with the Lord and pray we recognize the promptings. Tune in…

The fourth Sunday lesson was based on Cheryl Lant’s conference talk, “Righteous Traditions” and yours truly got to teach it in HP yesterday. I love to teach, but hate looking like the quorum stage hog (there’s already one in the room) and I try to hire from within whenever I can. I mean, as the GL I’m supposed to spread the love, let others dance. But calling these guys, asking them to teach, feels sometimes like I’m going down the phone book asking girls to the prom. Come on, dude, I know you’re there, I saw your car in the driveway. As luck would have it I didn’t have the time to work the digits this week, so once again I surrendered to sweet destiny (I am my density). Thank the stars it wasn’t a big, hairy subject because I had no time to prepare. Traditions– we all have them. Our parents’ families had theirs, we have ours, lots of material to work with and conjure from the audience. The lesson actually went well.

I didn’t think the family I grew up in was very big on traditions. We were dull that way. But then pondering the subject, I came up with a laundry list of them. Weird traditions. For example, when I was a kid in NY, on school half-days, if it rained we went out for a slice of pizza for lunch. It was a rock-solid rule. All other celebrations– birthdays, Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, report cards, Bastille Day– were held at the Sun Ming Chinese restaurant in Long Island. Some of our happiest hours were spent there and it wouldn’t surprise me if the edifice had been delivered up to Enoch like Chinese take-out. Another tradition: When visiting my mom’s parents, my grandpa– “Pop”– would always take me to the Hudson River to look at the boats, then he’d pick up a bottle of schnapps on the way home. In this ritual he was as reliable as Mussolini’s trains. Another: When I was sick– and it didn’t matter if it was an upset stomach, the Hong Kong flu or blunt force trauma– I was given ginger ale. Next time I talk to Mom, I’ll have to ask her if we had health insurance.

Some traditions were less weird, like celebrating our dachshund’s birthday, or Pop always cooking the Thanksgiving turkey, or the family eating dinner on TV trays during Wild, Wild West and the Movie of the Week. One year Dad tried to start a new tradition by building a small sailboat with a nautically-savvy buddy, and that summer I learned the rudiments of sailing. It was going to be a family ritual of bonding and life lessons. Instead, Dad left the boat tied to the dock over the winter, the rudder was stolen and the boat sank. I’m sure there was a life lesson there somewhere.

My own family’s traditions are less weird, and I mostly credit my wise and conventional wife– and her enthusiastic protege, Miss D.– for this. If it were up to me, traditions might have included going to see Burning Man, jaunts to Alcatraz, dead Hollywood celebrity tours and Festivus (Wikipedia it if you’re not familiar). As it stands, the T. family traditions include beach camping every summer, giving Miss D. a blessing when she starts a new school year, and having Gruyere cheese and chocolate fondue on New Year’s Eve (not in the same pot). We hide the pickle in the Christmas tree and sprinkle reindeer food on the driveway, and Dad always cooks the steaks.

What struck me about this week’s lesson was how our family traditions make strong impacts on the kids (like pizza slices on rainy Thursdays) and help root their values. So whatever traditions we choose we ought to do it thoughtfully, almost prayerfully– at the very least, ponderously. And it’s never too late to start a new tradition, even if the kids are in high school, or even if the parents are once again alone. It’s astounding what seemingly benign ritual can solidify a family’s strength and values.

The Church brings with it all kinds of good traditions, such as blessing the food, Family Home Evening and taking the sacrament. All wards have their own traditions, too. Ours has an annual Talent Show & Taquito Dinner, we do the Trunk or Treat thing for Halloween, and we have an annual Movie Night where members in “the Industry” share some of their lesser know “underground” stuff. These traditions have bound our congregation and have made it feel more like a family.

I used to good-naturedly endure the traditions the two women in my home constantly tried to adopt into our lives. Now I realize they’re only fortifying the eternal integrity of our family.

And I’ll be damned if I don’t hunt for a pickle in the Christmas tree for that.