Full Report

While we're peaking behind curtains, let's look into my brain...


The problem with set up offers, I thought, was that people are not as selective on behalf of others as they are for themselves. I realized quickly that, "I know someone perfect for you," roughly meant, "Hey, I know at least two single people."

So I began nursing a little theory the last week. The idea was that if I sounded picky and demanding enough--like an elitist snob--then I could scare off those without well considered set up recommendations.

While I seriously doubted anyone would make lists of the five smartest and the ten most attractive women she knew, I did think the request would at least inspire something besides the lowest common denominator (single status). I thought I might ensure thoughtful recommendations.

My theory was incorrect. Lesson learned.

Apparently to many people I know this:

Anyone wishing to set me up may do so sans contractual agreement, however, I sincerely ask that you go through three simple steps.

1. Make a list of the five smartest women that you know. ANY women.
2. Make a list of the ten most attractive women that you personally know. ANY women.
3. If any women is on both lists, and is single, and has aspirations for a temple marriage, and is AT LEAST 22.5 years old, I would love to meet her.

Is indistinguishable from this:

Please immediately send me the name of any woman you can think of, whether or not she is in rehab, is more than a decade younger than I am, or you've ever actually met her.

I do not mean to say that everyone I heard from was inconsiderate. I did get nice messages from a few thoughtful friends. However, since Friday night I have received about twenty-five set up offers, and I don't mind saying that most of them have been terrible.

Until I can think of a new and improved policy, I'm going back to the Set Up Contract, effective immediately.

Onto my goals...

1. Bedtime/Wake up goal: 37.5%
2. Book goal: 100% (The Fifth Mountain)
3. Writing goal: 0%

The Set Up II

Here is the current deal:

1. It's the weekend.
2. Despite being brilliant, relatively in shape, financially sound, witty, good looking, and not at all obnoxious...
3. I still have absolutely no plans.

While the rest of you are managing bath night, the changing of diapers, and trying to locate a babysitter for the weekly rekindling of your marital flame, I got nothing. Nada. Zilch.

Let's peak behind the wizard's curtain. Great and terrible, come look at my social life...

January is 20 days old and despite having a full-time job and numerous church responsibilities, I have managed to read about 1,700 pages of books or magazines, watched the seventh season of Monk, am halfway through the eighth season, took a vacation and spent a full day driving in the car, and did it all on my own.


When I wrote my original "Set Up Contract," I intended to suppress offers. It has worked. It has worked very, very well. After more than a year, when faced with the contract only one person has persisted. (And he was disqualified for failing to meet the due diligence clause.)

I'm beginning to think the contract works too well.

Here is the new experiment:

Anyone wishing to set me up may do so sans contractual agreement, however, I sincerely ask that you go through three simple steps.

1. Make a list of the five smartest women that you know. ANY women.
2. Make a list of the ten most attractive women that you personally know. ANY women.
3. If any women is on both lists, and is single, and has aspirations for a temple marriage, and is AT LEAST 22.5 years old, I would love to meet her.

Is this still ridiculous? Yes. Is it demanding and unreasonable? Yes. But I've learned through sad experience that when people want to set me up with a woman, generally the main thing she and I have in common is someone's mutual pity. And that is also ridiculous and unreasonable.

Fire, meet fire.

Book Report II

Maybe this will be the kind of situation where things get worse before they get better.

1. Bedtime/wake-time goal: 20%
2. Reading goal: 100%
3. Writing goal: 83%

This week's book was The Story of Edgar Sawtelle, by David Wroblewski.


It's Hamlet, but with a mute boy and dog farm. It was very good, but the fact remains that when I finished it I thought, "Hey, that wasn't as good as Hamlet but at least it was much, much longer" (562 pages). Therefore, my takeaway is that if you're going to rewrite something, you probably shouldn't pick anything widely considered to be in the top 10%. Stick with the junk the Greeks and Nordic peoples made up.

My favorite scene: In Edgar Sawtelle the "murder play" is staged not by an acting troupe, but by trained dogs carrying syringes in their mouths. As good as Shakespeare was, I think this adaptation is probably closer to his original intent.

Book Report

Turns out my own personal resolution is poor--real low def kind of stuff--like a 1980's jumbo-tron resolution.

Out of ten possible chances to go to bed and wake up at a decent hour, I capitalized three times. 30%. It would make a great batting average, but a terrible free-throw percentage, and I believe in terms of letter grades it's a solid "F."

The bright spot is that I'm 100% in my other goal. I did read a book last week: Men to Match My Mountains.

It is a "biography" of the Far West, meaning California, Nevada, Utah, and Colorado. My favorite moment was when one historian commented that Brigham Young would have been a great man if only he hadn't of been a Mormon. Interesting.


The takeaway from the book was that scoundrels eventually die penniless and/or lonely, while nice guys often live in gradual and consistent crescendo.

I also distinctly saw two kinds of capitalists. There were those who worked tirelessly to provide a benefit to others, and who hoped to take a rightful share of the increase. I like to think of these as value-adding capitalists. Sure, they want a slice of the pie like everyone else--they may even want a very large slice--but rather than take from others, they seek to make the pie bigger. Everyone benefits.

Then there are value-diminishing capitalists. They do not add any benefits, but seek to manipulate the "rules of the game" to redirect capital from others' pockets into their own. They artificially inflate and deflate prices, use tricks to modify demand, limit supply, and frustrate the efforts of competitors. These are the jerks.

It's a good contrast for me to heed since one of my favorite past times is looking for "legal" ways to make board and card games dysfunctional. Heaven help any of the poor suckers who try to play Pit with me.