Tough as Nails

Several years ago my family and I found ourselves at my grandparents’ house in Manassa Colorado. That year my grandparents were hosting a reception in their back yard in honor of my cousin’s recent wedding. We were setting up a few collapsible canopies to provide shade while the sun was out. One of the drawbacks to these canopies is that if they aren’t staked down properly, the slightest breeze can turn them into supersized tumbleweeds.

As we were getting everything ready the wind kicked up and true to form the canopies started rolling around the backyard. The decision was made to stow the canopies and the reception went on swimmingly without them.

While we were cleaning things up that night someone noticed some white medical tape on my granddad’s hand. When we asked him what happened he explained that when one of the canopies had started rolling across the yard he reached out to stop it and in the scuffle he received a cut on his hand. When we asked to see the extent of the damage my granddad removed the tape and revealed not the small cut that we were expecting to see, but a gaping hole between his middle and ring fingers.

Not wanting to bother anyone with what he considered a minor scratch, my granddad said that he quietly went into the house, poured hydrogen peroxide into his wound, and taped his fingers together. He then continued on and attended the reception and no one suspected a thing.

I would like each of you to put yourself in his situation. Imagine that you are out doing some sort of work, and you look down and see blood oozing out of a gaping hole in your hand. Would you quietly tend to your wound and resume normal activity? Or would you enter into a state of crazed shock and hyperventilate until someone rushed you to the ER? You think my granddad is tough? In the words of Bachman-Turner Overdrive, “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

After a few phone calls we finally got a hold of the local doctor and without hesitation he said that he would meet us at his office. My dad volunteered to drive him there and I opted to tag along. We met Dr. Jackson at the back door of his clinic and he led us into a room where he began prepping for sutures. Since there were no nurses or assistants present my dad took upon himself that role and he performed admirably. Under Dr. Jackson’s instructions my dad gathered materials and supplies for the treatment.

Dr. Jackson began by examining and cleaning the wound. After he confirmed that stitches were indeed necessary local anesthetic was applied with a small syringe. If anyone has been stuck with a needle of any size anywhere in your hand you know how painful it can be, now imagine not only getting shots in your fingers and hand, but inside a deep gash in your hand. My granddad didn’t even flinch.

After letting the anesthetic set in for a few minutes Dr. Jackson began suturing the wound. The cut was severe enough that he had to tie several stitches inside my granddad’s hand. After the doctor had tied two or three of the stitches he suddenly stopped himself and said, “I’m sorry I forgot to ask Cletus, but can you feel that?”

My granddad looked up at him and with his gruff voice simply said “Yeah.”

For whatever reason the anesthetic hadn’t kicked in yet and the doctor had gone to work tying stitches not knowing that my granddad could still feel everything. Meanwhile, my granddad sat there with no complaints, no grimaces on his face, and no squirming in his seat. Not even a calm “Uh doc, I can still feel that.”

The doctor gave him a few more numbing shots and after making sure that his hand was numb proceeded to tie around fifteen stitches total. I always knew that he possessed many great qualities, but from this moment on I knew for a fact that my granddad is tough as nails.

Scottfunkel's Handy Guide to Picture in Picture

Football season is upon us. One of the great things about Saturdays in the fall is the fact that you can roll out of bed, turn on the TV, and be immersed in the glorious institution that is college football for the rest of the day. The game of football has changed dramatically over the years, and so has the way that we, as fans, follow it. Long gone are the days where families and friends would gather around a radio to listen to an audio only broadcast of the event; now we gather ‘round TVs large and small to witness, in full color (and sometimes better than real life high definition), the game that we love.

I recently moved into an apartment that has a big screen TV. It’s not what you’d call state of the art. The picture is not in high definition, and it does not have surround sound capabilities, but it does have one feature that has revolutionized the way I watch sports: Picture in Picture.

For those of you not familiar with this antiquated television feature, picture in picture allows you to display in one corner of your TV screen a video feed from a channel other that the one you are currently watching. You may be thinking, “Scott, picture in picture is so 1990s. Nobody can watch two channels at once. Why would anyone need that?” Let me explain. Anyone with a basic cable or satellite package will attest to the fact that on any given Saturday in the fall there are at least four channels broadcasting a football game. It is impossible to follow the progress of each and every game, but that won’t stop an avid fan of the game from trying. The advent of the remote control has allowed us to change channels in an extremely efficient manner with out leaving the comfort of our couch. TV commercials are a fact of life, and while some see them as an annoyance, others see them as an opportunity to check in on another game. The problem is that nobody except the producer in the broadcast truck knows exactly how long a commercial will last. And all too often when we try to check in on another game we linger too long and end up missing an important play, injury update, or broadcast note. You can check back every few seconds to see if your game is back on, but if you check back too often it’s hard to discern what is happening in the other game. If you don’t check back often enough you end up missing out on the game you are most interested in. It is possible to follow multiple games on a TV without picture in picture, but only if the remote is in the hands of an extremely competent and astute individual. (Author’s note: Marcus Dorsey is the most proficient remote control handler I know. I recall one night at his house when we followed two football games and a basketball game all at the same time. It was an epic display of prowress that I will remember for years.)

The main benefit of Picture in Picture is that you can keep an eye on the commercial break of your game while you check on the scores of other games. You simply put the game you are watching into the smaller screen, and when the commercial break ends, you switch back to your game. Sounds simple right? Well, like any feature intended to improve our lives, in the hands of an inexperienced or uneducated operator, in can prove to be distracting, inefficient, or disastrous. So for those of you who aren’t proven remote control experts, I have developed a few guidelines that I call: Scottfunkel’s Guide to Picture in Picture.

Step 1: Get to know your remote control. It is not only important to know the function of each button on your remote, but also their function. Know the basics like how to change the channel and adjust the volume. Also know which button will bring up the picture in picture screen, how to change the channel in that screen, and the button that will swap the channel in the big picture for the channel in the smaller picture. Not being familiar with your remote control will cause you to fumble around in high pressure situations, causing frustration to your game viewing mates. Such a breakdown in performance can lead to you being stripped of your remote control privileges or worse, a revoking of your man card.

Step 2: Designate a “Primary Game.” This could be the game that your favorite team is playing in, the game that your team’s rival or other upcoming opponent is playing in, or another game of general interest. Also have in mind several “Secondary Games” and the TV channels that they are being aired on. Prioritizing of the games is crucial. If you try to watch them all equally you will end up watching none of them. Pick one to watch, and a few more stay updated on. It’s the best way, trust me.

Step 3: During the pregame show of your Primary Game, bring up the picture in picture and tune the smaller picture to the channel of one of your Secondary Games. This step will help you to avoid wasting the first few commercial breaks trying to find the channels of your Secondary Games.

Step 4: As soon as the channel that is broadcasting your Primary Game goes to commercial bring up the picture in picture. Swap the smaller picture for the larger picture and suddenly you are in a position to gather useful information about your Secondary Game during the commercial break. Putting your Primary Game into the smaller picture will allow you to know exactly when that commercial break is over and, if you are astute, you will be able to swap the pictures back and eliminate the smaller picture without missing a single tidbit of game detail.

Step 5: Repeat steps three and four as often needed.

Here’s wishing that this college football season fulfills all your wildest dreams, and more. Go Cougars!

Complainers

It seems to me that there are a lot of whiners out there. No matter how wonderful somebody’s life is, they will find something that they don’t like. And to make matters worse, they let everyone know about it. I have decided that there are two criteria and at least one of them must be met before a situation should be complained about:

Forced – The person shouldn’t have had a choice as to whether or not they are in the situation about which they are complaining. Example: A person has been enslaved or otherwise held without cause against your will.

Misrepresented – The situation that a person is complaining about was previously said to be something that it isn’t. Example: At a restaurant the menu advertises “bottomless” soft drinks, but your server lets you suck melted ice through a straw for three fourths of your time in their establishment before asking if you’d like a refill, and then not bringing said refill until after she brings the check.

And you should never complain about situations where:

No one has control – People shouldn’t complain about things over which no one has any control. Example: The weather.


There are a few complaints that I seem to hear on a regular basis. The first is people complaining about the “rules” at BYU. It is well known that BYU requires its students and staff to obey by a code of conduct, abide by residential living standards, and adhere to certain dress and grooming guidelines. This list of “rules” is known as the Honor Code, and when a person agrees to live the Honor Code they basically agree to be honest, live a moral life, abstain from alcohol and tobacco, dress modestly, and men agree to keep their hair cut and their faces clean shaven. It may seem like an oppressive regime but for the vast majority of people wishing to attend BYU they wouldn’t have to change much in their lives in order to abide by these standards.

The Honor Code isn’t something that is sprung on unsuspecting students at orientation; it’s a well known fact. Any time a newspaper or magazine writes anything more extensive than a game recap, the Honor Code is mentioned at least in passing. There have been several well publicized instances where prominent student athletes at BYU have been forced to leave school and their team because they chose not to live by the Honor Code. And if a prospective student had managed to pass through their young adult lives and not been exposed to these publicized stories, agreeing to live by the Honor Code is the first step in the application process. You can’t even put your name on an application without first agreeing to shave your beard.

I am baffled at the people who complain about having to shave. I’m not going to say that I understand the reasons behind this rule, but BYU is very upfront about the expectations that they have of their students. If having a beard is that important to you then there are thousands of other universities in this country and abroad that couldn’t care less as to whether or not you have a beard. You are neither forced to be here nor were you knew exactly what you were getting into, so stop complaining.


Another thing that really chaps my hide is when people complain about the great state of Utah. They usually complain about at least one of three things: the weather, the drivers, or the culture.

The weather in Utah is cold in the winter, hot in the summer, and the springtime can be sporadic. It has been this way since the beginning of time. No one turned the thermostat down when you moved here just to bug you; it’s always been cold in the winter. And guess what, it snows here. Utah is so well known for its snow that we hosted the 2002 Winter Olympics. In fact, Utah’s snow is known as the greatest snow on earth! Sometimes we ski well into April, and sometimes we ski as late in the year as July. In other words: It snows here. Some people just can’t be pleased. It’s either too hot or too cold. There’s either not enough snow or too much snow. They say that if you can’t take the heat get out of the kitchen. I say if you can’t take the cold Utah winters, then go back to California.

I think it’s funny that people here at BYU complain about “Utah drivers.” Out of 33,000 daytime students at BYU, only 28% of them are actually from Utah. I’m no statistician, but wouldn’t that mean that most of the drivers you encounter near BYU’s campus are actually from somewhere besides Utah.

I’ll be the first to admit that Utah has a quirky culture. And I think that the fact that I grew up immersed in this culture causes me to not notice most of the time. I’m not going to try to defend it, but to be honest I don’t always see why it bugs people so much. You may have chosen to come here, but no one is forcing you to stay, so please stop complaining.

So unless you are a slave, unjustly imprisoned, or can’t get your server to refill your Mtn Dew, I’d rather not hear about it.

Why Scottfunkel?

During my carefree days of high school I played in a rock band called Fine Line. We were well known throughout the greater Grantsville area as well as the Two Mile Road region of Malad, ID. We played at a few local “battle of the bands” events, at a middle school dance, for a pep assembly, and the annual GHS talent show. If Grantsville had a “local music scene” we probably would have dominated it. The pinnacle of our music careers came when traveled to First Take Studios in Orem, UT and recorded a CD.

Taylor Parkinson (Drums), Taylor Hutchins (Vocals/Guitar), Erik Anderson (Bass/Vocals), Devin Didericksen (Guitar), Scott Johnson (Keyboard)

After that first album Fine Line just kind of dissolved. We never officially called it quits; we just never played together again as a band (unless you count the impromptu jam session at Taylor Parkinson’s birthday party). I remember a conversation with Taylor Hutchins where we discussed the fact that the band was now defunct and what we were going to do about it. I suggested that Taylor and I keep playing as a duo. We had similar tastes in music and the fact that we lived next door to each other made this a natural route to take. I imagined it along the lines of Simon and Garfunkel. I shared this idea with several people until someone said somewhat in jest, “You guys could be ‘Taylor and Scottfunkel.’” I thought that was pretty funny so I shared it with Taylor and his family and it kind of stuck.

“Taylor and Scottfunkel” never really got off the ground. The only audience we ever played for outside of the small gatherings on the front porch was one of our family reunions. We did, however, have several late night jam sessions in the summer of 2002. We would start when I got home from work and would play until the wee hours of the morning.

Taylor and I haven’t had many jam sessions since then, but the name Scottfunkel stuck, thanks mainly to Taylor and his parents. When I was heading out the door on my mission Taylor came and handed me a letter addressed to “Elder Scottfunkel.” When I returned two years later there was a large banner on the front of the Hutchins’ house that said “Welcome Home Elder Scottfunkel.” Since then I have been known in the Hutchins family and on the world wide web as Scottfunkel. Or Funkel for short.

The Hungry Banquet

For the past week or so as I have been leaving the MARB following my physics class I have consistently walked past a girl with a bright orange piece of cloth attached to her backpack with the words “Ask me about the hunger banquet” written on it. I know you all are intrigued now, thinking to yourselves, “What is the hunger banquet? Isn’t that an oxymoron?” Well, let me save you the trouble of trekking up to the BYU campus to track down this girl to have your curiosity quenched.

The Hunger Banquet is an event sponsored by Students for International Development to “raise awareness among BYU students about global poverty and wealth inequality.” When you first arrive you are randomly allocated into one of three “classes.” 70% of the attendees are seated in the third world section, 20% in the second world “section” and the remaining 10% get to sit in the “first world.” You’re probably asking “What difference does it make?” Well, if you are in the first world you receive a “lavish meal.” People in the second world eat a “modest one plate meal.” I think they got pizza the year I went. And the rest of the people are served rice and beans; but there’s a catch, you have to share your plate with three or four people. They have groups perform and there is also a guest speaker. All the food is donated by local businesses, so the money raised from ticket sales is donated to a good cause.

A few years ago I was invited by a lovely young lady to attend the Hunger Banquet. Being somewhat partial to lovely young ladies I gladly agreed to attend despite the fact that BYU would be playing in the MWC basketball tournament at that same time. We made our way up to the “Wilk” and were led to our “seats.” Our “seats” were a spot on the floor. I could see chairs set up around the outside of the room (second world) and a few tables set up with centerpieces and nice place settings (first world.) The plan is to demonstrate the gap between rich and poor in the world. I’m sure that the original planners of this event were thinking “We’re going to make most of them eat rice and beans so that they can see how bad life is in the third world.” Having spent two years in the “third world” there are some days that I would like nothing more than to have a big plate of rice and beans, so … trick’s on them. (Even the richest people in Brazil eat rice and beans.) Having to split it four ways was kind of a bummer but the beans were actually very good.

During the meal they had arranged for some entertainment. There were a few groups who performed but the only one I remember was the Hare Krishnas from Spanish Fork. They sang some songs and acted out a folktale typical of their culture. This was my favorite part. These people were very energetic and sincere people. They were so excited to be there and share their culture with us.

After dinner we heard from a few speakers. The first one was a kid who couldn’t have been older than nineteen who was dressed in a toga. (To this day I’m not sure why he was wearing a toga.) He rattled of some statistics about poverty and hunger and kept telling us that we needed to do more. The keynote speaker was a woman from Utah who had founded an organization called “Mothers Without Borders.” She told of her experiences in Africa where she had spent time helping women and orphans with AIDS. Her main point was that little things can make a difference.

They announced that the money raised was going to be donated to an Associação de Bairro (Neighborhood Assosiation) in Brazil to help them maintain a community center.

No one around us seemed to want to eat their ration of rice and beans. Me, being an aficionado of rice and beans and not wanting to let perfectly good rice and beans to go to waste, ate their portions as well. Nevertheless, we stopped by Wendy’s on the way home because we were still hungry, and ever since then I have been referring to this annual event as “The Hungry Banquet.”

I came away from this evening feeling a little disappointed. The event was well planned and the people involved felt very strongly about their cause, two things that will win you a lot of points in my book. But I felt like it was a lot of hype with no substance. Everyone was saying “There are so many people in the world who have so little, we need to do more!” I thought to myself, “You’re right, sign me up. What can I do?” I felt like they had focused so much on raising awareness that they failed to give any of the newly aware people anything to act on. Sure we raised money for a community in Brazil, but will it make much of a difference?

A few weeks ago author and philanthropist Paul Polak spoke to the school of engineering and technology here at BYU. In his life he has created several ways for people to raise themselves out of poverty. One of the main points of his lecture was that you can’t donate people out of poverty. Oftentimes people try to deal with a problem by throwing money at it. For issues like poverty and hunger, this is like shooting a bb gun at a freight train. Giving people fish to eat will never have long lasting effects unless they can somehow learn how to fish themselves. Mr. Polak has devised a simple water pump that is human powered and can help farmers irrigate from wells during the dry season. Being able to irrigate allows them to not only harvest more from their crops, but to be able to harvest year round. Mr. Polak didn’t try to raise money to send food to these starving and impoverished people; instead his innovative idea gives people the means to raise themselves out of poverty. His intent is to empower people.

A group of engineering students here at BYU recognized a need for lights in a schoolhouse in Africa. Instead of sending these people money to help get electricity to their city, these students developed a piece of playground equipment that would generate enough electricity to charge several portable lanterns inside the schoolhouse allowing for an enhanced educational experience. I like this idea for two reasons. First, it is something simple, low maintenance, and practical, unlike a generator that would be costly to run and require frequent and expensive repairs. Second, it will allow these children to better help themselves. It will be easier for them to attend school and with a better education they will have much greater opportunities to be self sufficient in the future.

There are certain situations where money and other donations can make a significant difference. For example: When a family’s house catches fire and burns down. These people suddenly have no possessions and no place to stay. Some donated food, clothes, and money will surely help them to get by while they get back on their feet. This could be considered “acute poverty.” They only need help for a short time because by the time those donations are exhausted they will have had the means (i.e. a source of income) to start rebuilding their lives. This is different from what we might call “chronic poverty.” Chronic poverty might be what we refer to as the third world; people who have little or no resources or skills to draw on to sustain themselves. You can donate food and money to these people, and I’m sure they’d be very grateful, but when those donations have run out, they are still poor and hungry because they are right back in the same situation that they were in the first place. Wouldn’t it be more beneficial to help these people find ways to better support themselves?

Simply raising awareness for a cause isn’t enough. This would be like Taylor Swift getting on TV and announcing that she would be performing a concert in the area. Wouldn’t you be excited to hear this? I know I would. But let’s say she never told us when and where it would be held, or how to get tickets. It’s great that she’ll be performing nearby, but it doesn’t do me any good if I don’t have a way to see the show.

When I think of the Hunger Banquet I think of the story about the little boy walking along the beach. He sees all these starfish that have been left on the sand when the tide went out. He knows that if they stay out of the water for too long they will surely die. He begins picking the helpless starfish up, one by one, and throwing them back into the ocean. An older man sees what the boy is doing and says, “Little boy, there are thousands of starfish along this beach. How can you think that you are going to be able to make any difference?” The little boy picks up a starfish, throws it into the ocean, and says to the man, “I made a difference to that one.”

Most people love this inspiring story, but wouldn’t it be better if it didn’t end there? The little boy was doing everything that he could think of to help those poor starfish. He had made at least one other person aware of the problem. Now suppose the little boy and the older man got together with some other concerned citizens, who then counseled with some local experts, and together they devised a plan to save more starfish. Or better yet, a plan that enabled the starfish to save themselves!

I’m glad that there are innovative people like Mr. Polak out there; and I’m also glad that there are passionately concerned people like those involved in Students for International Development. I just wish that their paths would cross more often. Then, instead of just reminding everyone that there are problems in the world, we could implement some effective solutions. And the impact wouldn’t die out when the money runs out; but would spark a generation of empowered people able to first help themselves and eventually help empower those around them.

Step Down Encounters

For those of you not familiar with the Clyde Building on BYU’s campus, the Step Down Lounge is a large area on the first floor with rows of long tables and chairs surrounded by large windows which provide a breathtaking view of the MARB. From the main hallway you actually have to go down a small set of stairs to reach the lounge, thus the name: Step Down Lounge. It is the perfect place for studying, eating lunch, or catching a quick nap in between classes. (I’ve learned in my college career that a lot of places on campus are suitable for a quick nap.) Since most of my classes are in the beloved Clyde Building I find myself there quite often trying to decode the mysteries of physics or unlock the secrets of fluid mechanics. Since the Clyde Building houses the Fulton College of Engineering and Technology the engineering majors are very well represented in the Step Down, and that guarantees encounters with a multitude of characters.
An all too common character is Obnoxious Guy. Obnoxious Guy gets his name for two main reasons: content, and volume. Let me explain.

While I was busy studying away one morning last week I couldn’t help but overhear a conversation happening on the next table over. I couldn’t help but overhear because this guy was talking quite loud. I understand that I wasn’t in the library and can’t expect everyone to whisper all the time, but sometimes I really wish people had a mute button. He was explaining to his friend sitting next to him what he thought were the intricacies of the “BCS” system. He was trying to explain how only certain conferences were involved, how much money they paid out, and how the teams were selected. “They average three computer simulations, the AP poll, and the coaches’ poll,” he explained. At this point I decided to interject. Not only to correct his misinformation, but to let him know that not only were he and his friend participating in this conversation, but everyone in the nearby vicinity was also being included against their free agency due to the excessive volume of his voice. “The AP poll isn’t factored into the BCS ranking,” I corrected. He looked at me with a surprised look on his face. I don’t know if he was surprised by the fact that he was wrong or because I was making my involvement in this discourse known. “The AP isn’t factored in, but the coaches’ poll is,” I repeated. “So is the Harris poll,” chimed in another unwitting participant sitting down the table from me. Recognizing that his conversation was less private than he had previously assumed, he either continued in more properly controlled volume or began doing his homework, either way the Step Down was relieved of his uninformed distractions.

Later that same day I was once again minding my business and quietly working on my homework when I found myself seated across the table form our next character: Nerd Guy. Nerd Guy is probably the most populous of all the characters in the Step Down as is evidenced by the fact that in front of me were two guys who, as I would guess just by looking at them, were freshman and didn’t have the strength to lift anything heavier than their TI-89 Titaniums. They caught my attention when they started mocking one of the homework questions in their electrical engineering textbook. I’m not sure why they thought this particular question was so ridiculous, but that’s not what I found so amusing. No sooner had they each verified that the question was a waste of time, but they both started giving possible answers. They spent ten minutes proposing possible unconventional methods/devices to measure air temperature (answering the aforementioned homework question that was a waste of time). This experience reaffirmed the old saying, “You can take the nerd out of the computer lab, but he’s still a nerd.”

That same afternoon I had an encounter with another character. Hopeless yet Persistent Guy is someone that we all seem to root for despite the fact that we know that he just doesn’t stand a chance. I caught the tail end of a phone conversation between this character and a member of the fairer sex. Just as he was stepping down into the lounge he wrapped up the conversation with “Well, if you do get some free time and would like to go out, just give me a call,” and the conversation was over. This guy just got what is called “The Runaround.” This guy had probably spent the entire Christmas break working up the nerve to call one of his old FHE sisters. He had no doubt received much encouragement from friends and plenty of positive reinforcement from his mother before utilizing either his ward directory or BYU’s “Stalker Net,” only for her to tell him that she just happens to have plans this weekend, and every other weekend for the foreseeable future. For you single girls, if you ever find yourself on the receiving end of one of these phone calls, a straightforward “No thanks,” and a simple explanation that you’re just not interested will save everyone involved a lot of wasted effort.