Mom’s visiting this week and she’s an early riser. So am I. We found ourselves having a few quiet moments this morning looking at old family photos. My folks spent a lot of time scanning photos and other memorabilia into a large family database. One item in the database came up today and we took a look and read it. It was our Christmas memories from 1984.
From 1984-1985 Hannah Barbara produced a delightful show known as the “GOBOTS.” It was essentially a knock off of Transformers. It didn’t matter whether it was the “generic” version of something else to us, we liked it. Growing up in a home with three boys leads to enjoying robots, violence, and limited plot development. GOBOTS had all of these.
We had asked for some of the character’s toys for Christmas, and mom and dad were able to indulge their children. You’ll notice reading the image that David and I each had broken GOBOTS as part of our Christmas memories. I know full well what happened, but this morning turned to mom and asked: “Mom, why did you get us broken GOBOTS?”
She looked at me and laughed.
Today our Thanksgiving is full of memories from our Turkey Trot, great food, good conversation, wonderful people, and the occasional jab that “My parents were so mean growing up they brought us “broken GOBOTS.” Which is equally met with mom’s classic response: “We got you what you deserved” exchanged with the classic smile only my mother is capable of portraying.
So far so good. We’re watching the Disney Classic: “That Darn Cat” and enjoying stretching our full stomachs as we lie in various positions around the living room, and the rest of the house. Thank you to the great folks who are away from familiy this year. We’ve kept you in our prayers and hope you can feel them wherever you are.
NEWS ANCHOR: “Find out why people are dying from Peanut Butter and what you need to do to protect yourself. We’ll have the life-saving tips for you–right after the break.”
Let’s take a moment to reflect upon these profound words. It sounds like a crisis is looming. One of our basic American food staples has turned on us. It’s betrayal is at the level of Benedict Arnold or Anakin Skywalker joining the darkside. Surely such information marks a dark day for humanity.
More than that, it looks as though my own life, and the life of my children, might be threatened by such a betrayal. This is more than just the selling of land in New York, or the entire destruction of the Jedi Order. This isn’t fantasy, or history, this is happening now. My life could be in jeopardy! It’s like I’m hanging on the edge of a cliff noticing and someone from up top says, “Oh yeah, those rocks are slippery. Let me finish sending this text message, and I’ll throw you a rope.”
Sure we all know that I’m probably not going to slip to my death while the text message is being sent. We all know I’m probably not going to die while the commercials are rolling, but what does it say about their priorities. C’mon now, if you truly cared about me you’d put down the stinkin’ phone, stop running commercials, and help me out.
Then there’s the people who only patronize one news agency. I know people who only watch CNN, and wont get their news from anywhere else. Then there’s the people who only watch the news from FOX News because it’s just more patriotic. The worst folks, are the ones that only get their news from the comedy shows. These people generally have the same enthusiastic brand loyalty toward their news as some sports fan do towards football.
Actual office conversation (paraphrased for anonymity and grammar): “Last week I was wearing this shirt while watching my team play the game. They won, so it must be their lucky shirt. I’m wearing it again for this weekend.” Really, someone at work actually believes that the shirt they wear in their living room helps their team win…. yeah….. um……. Moving on:
It doesn’t matter who you are, what news source you turn to. Really, none of them care about “you” the way they should. Sure, there are notable exceptions, but I’m not mentioning any here. It’s all one giant pickle-sucking, capitalist, routine to sell advertising. Just admit that’s what you’re watching. There may be smatterings of patriotism, social progression, or good humor, but those are all packages, they’re not the product.
That doesn’t mean I would stop watching the news, but it’s important to realize that what you watch, your brain consumes. There’s a big difference between “good news” and “what’s good for the news.” I just wish they’d finally come out and say that they’ve based their formats on Greek Tragedy. In case you didn’t know, that’s where they got it from:
So this isn’t another blog entry where I will try and wake up the world to the threat of inflation, terrorist ideologies, or anything else that matters. No this post is entirely about me. That’s enough reason to stop reading now, but if you’re really bored I could imagine that you might continue perusing a little further down the page. You may want to read because dedicating an entire blog entry to “me” displays pride, and as we all know “pride goeth before the fall.” So if you’re one of those sick people that’s reading to see me crash in a few days on another blog entry please continue on. I’ll be happy to keep 50% of all the earnings from your bet (for or against). Please send the checks made out to “cash” my current address.
In less than7 days I’ve made two local news outlets. The first was Channel 7 KSWO in Lawton, and the second occurred today when the Lawton Constitution published an article on my “Reprise Computer Solutions” project. The attention has been great for the project. I also think it’ll help out the Lawton/Ft. Sill area in getting people to step up their game and help their neighbors. We’ll have to see.
It’s customary when you make the news to tell your family members about it. So when I told my sister-in-law, Lindsay had a rather interesting response.
L: “You’ve been slacking”
J: “What do you mean?”
L: “You made The Herald Journal the first week you were in Logan. You’ve been in Oklahoma for months and they’re just now paying attention to you.”
I laughed. It was poetic, funny, and well-timed. Lindsay gets some serious cool points for that one. We chatted for a while online and discussed having her start the same project up in Logan. If someone would do it, it’s sure to be a hit.
I’ve been loosing cool points all over the place these days. This morning I lost cool points to the crock pot.
When Chrissy and I were first married I managed to volunteer to do the dishes. She smiled, I got hosed. Although she’s helped out now and again, it’s been my job for pretty much the past 8+ years. Sometime last week we had dinner cooked in the crock pot. I didn’t get to cleaning it right after it was done. It took a couple of days. Of course, after a couple of days, it stunk and it got cleaned.
This morning the crock pot was back in the sink defiantly pointing a finger at me and screaming! “HA” it said. “HA!” “Less than 24 hours after you cleaned me, I’m dirty again!” Oooohhhh it was an obnoxious conversation! I was loosing.
Now in my degree we were taught about escalating and descalating conversations. I’ve really wanted to escalate things. I knew just how I was going to do it. I was going to get the last word. I was going to win. I was going to get the sledge hammer.
You could imagine what would have happened if I followed through with the hammer. I mean, really. Whenever you do something violent there’s always someone in the background with a video camera. Whatever you do is bound to end up on youtube.
I graduated cum laude from USU. My professors would have read the blog and taken my degree back. Then the Army would have to take away my commissioning, and Chrissy would have to work longer hours at the “pizza biz.” That would mean more time away from the kids, and more babysitters. The babysitters we’ve hired are already getting a bit worn out from our kids. . . They’re high school students that need to be focussed on grades, not raising my children.
Ada, Mikkel, in the interest of your future, I left the sledge hammer in the garage, and walked away.
Generally when I want to win an argument with Chrissy I say, ” I’m a speech communication graduate, don’t mess with me.” The line doesn’t seem to be working on the dishes. So, if any of you guys have any extra cool points please send them along. I seem to be drastically short these days.
I’ve told Chrissy that she’s not the woman I married. No, that person is gone, and she’s been replaced with someone else. Someone I love better. I don’t take the time to comment on this blog about how much she means to me, because it takes a lot of emotional energy to put down in words feelings that I consider beyond words.
I prefer to leave certain emotions in abstract. They are better left as the colours of my mind. Although the English language has an immense lexicon of words, and an immense amount of flexibility with adopting new ones, none seem adequate. Sure I meet new words every week. This week’s word was pulchritudinous. It’s a rather poetically clever word. I like it a lot, but it just doesn’t seem good enough. Pulchritudinous has part of the colors of my mind, but it’s awkward to pronounce, and doesn’t match the sounds that go with the colours.
So all of this is a bit abstract, and maybe too complicated to understand. There have been times when I’ve highlighted some of the people in my life on this blog, and there are some who are wondering when I will highlight their influence on my life. Honestly, I’m just not ready to do that. For the same reason I can’t say good-bye to people. I simply let them leave, and after a time, pick up life from the last encounter. To me describing a person’s influence in my life, is confining that influence.
I recently was asked to write a letter of recommendation for a professor. It was a difficult task, because as much as I knew I had learned from her, I wanted to leave space to learn more. It’s uncomfortable to write the obituary of influence about someone you care about
The few times I have practiced writing about people here on the blog have been hard tasks to be sure. I have had to train myself to construct something on paper from a “thank-you” perspective or a “hello” perspective. Trying to write others though, it feels too much like I’ve said “goodbye.” It’s considerably easier to post blogs with neat little youtube videos than it is to write about the people who’ve helped make me, me.
What’s brought this all on? I’ve been facebooking and finding old friends from High School. Some are just now getting married, others celebrated their second Christmas’ together. A few have children. A small number of those have more than one. All of them have politely responded to seeing the photos on my facebook account. “You have a gorgeous family” and variations, have appeared in response recently. “Certainly you are blessed.”
What did I do to get these blessings? Well, some of it’s me doing the right things. A lot of it is God’s influence on my life, and a LOT of his influence comes from the good people I’ve been surrounded by, and how I’ve framed the learning opportunities in each relationship. Looking back it doesn’t feel like it took a lot of effort from me. The same thing would happen while hiking. The climb upward would be exhausting, but after reaching the summit it would feel like I could tackle more.
Constructing the obituaries for friendships also feels a bit like putting a limit on the hand of the Lord. Unlike Handel I don’t think I could claim to have seen God on his throne, but I have felt the influence of the angels he has sent me in the friendships I cherish deeply.
I will try and muster the courage to write thank-you introductions. My abilities seem lacking in the very thought, but there’s a void of “thank-yous” hitting the media, and since roeckerfam.com is a media I control, it should be used to this end.
We believe in being honest, true, chaste, benevolent, virtuous, and in doing good to all men; indeed, we may say that we follow the admonition of Paul—We believe all things, we hope all things, we have endured many things, and hope to be able to endure all things. If there is anything virtuous, lovely, or of good report or praiseworthy, we seek after these things.
Oh yeah, that’s right. I was TV in SouthWest Oklahoma. KSWO channel 7 did a news story on me. Read more here.
It’s nice to have attracted the attention of the news media around here. It seems that on a national level no one can say anything good about anyone else. On a local level, the stories of folks doing something good still get some attention.
Thanks to the KSWO news crew! They’re a great bunch of folks.
There are those who believe that our Republic is in a greater crisis than ever before in its history. They believe that between ongoing military campaigns, the economic struggles, and the idealogical struggle against terrorist jihad (which is sanctioned by religious doctrine) our nation is in great peril. I have listened as some have remarked that the general American public is merely a bunch of drones working out their lives. It is true our society & media seems to favour education that helps the population make money only so they can spend it before they have it.
There is certainly much to be criticized and concerned about in our day.
It’s odd, a few weeks ago Chrissy and I were discussing inflation & food storage. It started with the idea: How much will our grocery budget change when we have to pay $10 for a gallon of milk? It’s not a pleasant thought, nor at this time of having three children in the home do we feel prepared to deal with such circumstances. Inflation is a concern of several economists. There are those who are extremely polarized who believe that the US may see a form of hyperinflation the likes of which no nation has before seen.
I’m no doom-sayer, but I do know that I have a job which is not as succeptable to the turbulant waves of economic discord as others in my family. I’ve even slighly played out the scenario where the month Chrissy and I get out of debt (oh yeah, BTW we’ve been told by the media that it’s our fault the economy is tanking–cause we’re saving instead of spending) we have to financially assist those in the family who are having trouble making ends meet. I’m concerned that our small income, combined with some form of inflation, in conjunction with our foodstorage, will only be enough for our family and I may not have any left to help. You all know me, I’ll find other ways to help somehow, and let’s hope that day never comes. But I play out the scenario anyway because the Church’s welfare system can’t sustain its entire membership, and tough times will require family involvement before they require the Church’s help.
I was sitting across the table from a man last night who was discussing the grievances outlined in the Declaration of Independence. Among the many accusations outlined against King George is this one: “For imposing Taxes on us without our Consent.” This grievance was often popularized by the slogan of “No Taxation Without Representation.”
Ok, now here, Let me introduce you to some folks: These are my children. Their names are Eliza, Daniel, and Rainey. Their ages are 7, 3, and 2, respectively. Every dime and dollar of bailout money and stimulus package is a tax they will have to pay in their future. If this democracy endures long enough for them to vote then they will shoulder the economic fallout of this generation’s spending.
Our representative government appears less and less to represent who I am: a father concerned for the future of his children.
I’m reminded of a section of Thomas Paine’s great document, “The Crisis“ while describing a Tori in his day he remarked: a noted one, who kept a tavern at Amboy, was standing at his door, with as pretty a child in his hand, about eight or nine years old, as I ever saw, and after speaking his mind as freely as he thought was prudent, finished with this unfatherly expression, “Well! give me peace in my day.” Not a man lives on the continent but fully believes that a separation must some time or other finally take place, and a generous parent should have said, “If there must be trouble, let it be in my day, that my child may have peace;” and this single reflection, well applied, is sufficient to awaken every man to duty. Not a place upon earth might be so happy as America. Her situation is remote from all the wrangling world, and she has nothing to do but to trade with them. A man can distinguish himself between temper and principle, and I am as confident, as I am that God governs the world, that America will never be happy till she gets clear of foreign dominion. Wars, without ceasing, will break out till that period arrives, and the continent must in the end be conqueror; for though the flame of liberty may sometimes cease to shine, the coal can never expire.
I probably quoted too much here. But no one talks like this on the news, in our congress, and rarely in our conversations. I find it refreshing.I have several times made remarks of this sentiment. It’s one of the ways I justify being in the military.
Maybe I should stop watching the news. After all when I drive to work it’s hard to see that there is potential for the economic, idealistic, and physical worlds to come crumbling down upon me. It just looks like gray winter skies, and highway. Or maybe we ought to stop letting our politicians label us, and our children as “The Silent Majority” (thank you Richard Nixon). Maybe somewhere someone will get these folks organized in some way so congress will pay attention. In the meantime I’m working on a letter it goes something like this:
Dear Sir/Madam:
Thank you for taxing the future income of my children and unborn grandchildren. I appreciate that half of the $700 billion is gone without any oversight. If I were that sloppy with my money I wouldn’t have food on the table. It’s nice to know we have more compassion for corporations than we do our citizens.
Were you aware of how much money you allocated without consulting any expert witnesses? Let’s put this into perspective. Line up a bunch of $100 bills and start putting them across America. At it’s widest point you’d be able to cross the country twice with the money you alloted. Oh, and did you know that if you actually had to “print” that money it would take your presses 5 years printing only $100 bills (your largest denomination) working 24/7?
Maybe this is all my fault. After all you might argue that I only participate in this demoncracy every November when I get to vote, and that I’m silent the rest of the year. For this I’d like to apologize, but I figured wearing a uniform with an American flag on it for the past 11 years was participating in deomocracy. If my country now requires that I not only spend long hours defending its freedom, but have to influence its politics, and raise my children, then I’d like you to propose legislation to change the number of hours in the day. I’ll need about 32.
If legislation to change the hours of the day is impractical than please consider acting as a representative of me, my children, my grandchildren, and every generation that follows. I know when I cast my vote that’s who I’m representing. I thought I made a good choice. Please prove me right.
Thank you for your time.
-Jacob Roecker
So what’s next? Well, if you’ve got it in mind to do something about this issue, help get people mobilized. Take this same idea of “Taxation without representation” and make some noise. Link to this blog, cut and paste the entire thing and email it around, DO something. Otherwise our nonrepresentative government will label us the Silent Majority and tell us what we’re thinking.
Do you ever run into those people who admire you for how you deal with your life? Then you see them in theirs and just think MAN! How do they do it?
My cousin Stephanie is one of those people. She’s amazing. I’ve been blessed to know a lot of amazing folks. Today I get to tell you a very small bit about her.
Stephanie’s a stay-at-home/working mom, tourguide, publicist, complimenter, editor, wife, groupie, and more, who had the idea of getting her blog readers to contribute one recipie each. She would then compile them into a book.
Now if I were working on this I would be cutting and pasting, making a cool looking cover and calling it a day. Stephanie’s cover is plain. She’s pregnant. Her husband’s job was in jeaporday while she was writing this ,and she just didn’t spend the time on the cover. Instead you’ll find within these pages how much time she spent where it matters: inside the cover.
Stephanie took each submission, cleaned them up, categorized them, and bound them together. She also spent time giving a brief biography of each contributing author. They were as fun to read as the recipes are to try.
I can’t introduce it with justice, but I can use this blog to share it. You can download this ‘holiday treat’ here. It’s ok to try… you didn’t really commit to that diet until January 1st.
I haven’t yet put together all of my thoughts for the holiday season. I will tell you that among all the religions of the world this tradition is curiously different. Although other religions may attach a similar significance to their holidays, there is no other holiday reminding us of hope and love anywhere else but in Christianity.
The kids got the presents I made them today. Rainey’s been using his chalk-board more than the others. The marshmallow blow guns have been fun. I got Chrissy a few stocking stuffers, but I can share her present with everyone.
If you’d like to watch the high-def version click here. Then click on “Watch in High Quality”
From our youth we’re taught to hold still while someone is saying the prayer. We were at your typical LDS ward Christmas party with some friends this month and a funny thing happened. You know the deal, the gym that’s normally a point of contention is decked up for the The party was essentially over and the cleaning crew had begun making its way around the room. We had several half-full cups of water. All of the other dishes could go easily into the trash can, but putting these cups of water in a flimsy plastic bag would cause someone to have a bit of a mess when taking it out.
So I came up with a solution. I took all of the half-drunk cups and emptied them back into the pitchers on the table. The guy cleaning up thanked us for being so courteous, and just as he was finishing someone stepped up to the microphone.
Our friend’s youngest stepped up to the table while someone said the prayer. He was thirsty from running around the gym and poured himself a drink using the water in the pitcher. We knew what he was doing, but we all had to be reverent during the prayer. We couldn’t correct him.
He sucked down half the glass he had poured. The prayer ended, and we all started laughing. Then his mother told him. “You’ve been drinking backwashed water. We wanted to tell you, but we had to be reverent during the prayer. I guess that’s what happens when you’re not reverent.”
On Sunday I taught the Deacons. Now there’s an age group that really demands faith. I wonder if I’m ever getting through to them. I’m sure I’m not the only one that feels that way. I brought up one of my favourite characters in the scriptures and learned something new about him.
Job is a great book. I described at 40 chapters of misery and 2 chapters of information. It’s not an entirely accurate description, but it works for me. So I’m teaching about how Job lost everything, his seven thousand sheep, and three thousand camels, and five hundred yoke of oxen, and five hundred she asses (ref). Deacons tend to be a bit squeamish when saying she asses. All of it was taken from him.
After he lost his livestock we’re told that he lost his family in a tragic accident. Here’s how one of his servants tells the story:
Thy asons and thy daughters were eating and drinking wine in their eldest brother’s house:
And, behold, there came a great wind from the wilderness, and smote the four corners of the house, and it fell upon the young men, and they are dead; and I only am escaped alone to tell thee (ref).
That’s everything that happens to him in chapter 1. In Chapter 2 Job is stricken with painful boils. As the chapters continue we find that his friends ridicule him and his belief in God. What a story! This man was reduced from having everything to having nothing. His story is often used to help people feel better in bad times. “At least you’re not as bad off as Job…”
This argument was even used in a revelation given to Joseph Smith Thou art notyetasJob; thy afriends do not contend against thee, neither charge thee with transgression, as they did Job (ref).
I’ve mentioned this before, but it’s worth repeating again. At the end of the book of Job he receives twice as much as he had before. Mathematically that means that he went from
X = Job’s wealth
to
2X = Job’s wealth.
We’ve seen on the news that there is no compromise for integrity, and that our financial system is a swiss cheese of values. It’s starting to flood into the lives of the people I care about and whose blogs I read. Here’s what I learned while teaching the deacons. Job’s key to success is found in 42:10:
And the Lord turned the captivity of Job, when he aprayed for his bfriends: also the Lord gave Jobtwiceas much as he had before.
Job praying for his friends was the magic cure to his problems. He needed to care more about others than he did about himself. I learned on Sunday that “caring” about others isn’t enough. We must go and DO something for others. Job’s health prevented him from going to his friends house and cleaning up their yard, re-shingling a roof, or helping them move (typical LDS service project stuff). I mean really, if the guy shows up covered in boils with a plate of cookies would you eat them?
Job was left with no other resource to help out his friends but prayer. Prayer is powerful. It’s worth a whole nother blog entry, but I’ll save that for another time. I wish I knew what my capacity was for serving others. I still don’t think I’ve reached it. I don’t think anyone of us have. The reason why I haven’t found mine yet is that I’m far too selfish. Now, I’ve got more reason to find out how much I can do for other people now than ever before. Though my resources are limited, my knees are still nimble. I plan on putting them to good use.
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orning looking at old family photos. My folks spent a lot of time scanning photos and other memorabilia into a large family database. One item in the database came up today and we took a look and read it. It was our Christmas memories from 1984.
ntially over and the cleaning crew had begun making its way around the room. We had several half-full cups of water. All of the other dishes could go easily into the trash can, but putting these cups of water in a flimsy plastic bag would cause someone to have a bit of a mess when taking it out.
