Random thoughts from oldmcgyver

When I signed up for the Army, they wanted my High School transcript, gave me an aptitude test and a basic physical test and asked me what I wanted to be trained for. I asked to be trained in electronics. They told me to come back next week and we would talk again. Next week they sat down with me and told me they could get me into electronics school right after basic training. They said basic training is a tough 8 weeks and you don’t want to fail because that record will follow you the rest of your life. If you make it thru that then it’s unto electronics training, are you sure you want to sign up? I said yes. They said the only thing I could bring with me was the clothes on my back and a shaving kit. They gave a bus ticket for the Detroit induction center leaving that Friday. We arrived early afternoon. They met me at the bus station and took me to the induction center, and there my life as I knew it ended. Over Friday and Saturday: I had to remove my clothes and t...

BACK GROUND As you probably already know, my life changed at the age of 11 when my mother passed away and about 9 months later my dad married Della Parks. My sister Jean came down from Lansing in January for a couple of months to keep house for us. In February dad and I were in an auto accident and my jaw was broken in 4 places and my tenth were knocked loose. I was in Foot Hospital for a week and it was decided to move me to the University of Michigan Hospital in Ann Arbor to try to fix my jaw and teeth. My jaw had already started to heal so they had to break it again to put it together right. So with braces on my teeth and my jaw wired shut and a bandage around my head, I came home with a bandage around my head and one missing tooth on the left side, which I could fit a straw thru to receive liquids. My menu consists of baby food, warm milk, grape juice, water that vegetables were cooked in and eggnog. I couldn’t stand the eggnog so my darling sister Jean took out the nutm...

(Credit: insite of life) I looked in the mirror And what did I see, But a little old lady Peering back at me.  With bags and sags and wrinkles  And wispy white hair And I asked my reflection How did you get there? You were once straight and vigorous  And now you are stooped and week, When I tried so heard to keep you From becoming an antique.  My reflection’s eyes twinkled  As she solemnly replied  Your looking at the gift wrap  and not the jewel inside.  A living gem and precious, of unimagined worth Unique and true, the real you, The only you on earth.  The years that spoil the gift wrap With other things more cruel, Should purify and strengthen  and polish up that jewel.  So focus your attention on the inside, Not the out On being kinder, wiser, more content And more devout  So when your gift-wrap is striped away Your jewel will be set free To radiate God’s glory  Thru all eternity. 

I just reread the talk in the October Conference entitled the Gift of Eternal Testimony. He talked about Joseph Smith in the Sacred Grove. He said, I know exactly where I was when my Sacred Grove became a reality, at 6:am in my bathroom on a Wednesday 3 years after my baptism. That struck a memory with me, and I remembered a similar experience in my bathroom on the day we were baptized. It happened Saturday May 25 1963. We had taken all the lessons from the Stake Missionaries we were to be baptized that day. I was comfortable with the idea of joining the Church because it was what mom wanted. (All thru our marriage, when I didn’t know what to do, mom would set down with me and we would talk it out, she is my rock) We lived in an apartment that shared a bathroom with another apartment in an older house, so timing was crucial. I went into the bathroom to shave (among other things). Thinking about baptism i started to shave and suddenly it begin to get dark, I looked at the light and it w...

The Last 1% — A Love Letter to a Vanishing Generation” If you were born between 1930 and 1946, you belong to an incredibly rare and extraordinary group — only 1% of your generation is still alive today. You are the quiet keepers of a world that no longer exists, a bridge between candlelight and smartphones, handwritten letters and instant messages, ration books and digital wallets. You were born into resilience. You came from the Great Depression — when every scrap of cloth, every tin can, every drop of milk mattered. You watched the world rebuild itself after war, not through noise or complaints, but through sweat, dignity, and belief in tomorrow. You remember when the milkman’s whistle meant breakfast was coming, when discipline came with love, and when neighbors truly knew each other’s names. Your imagination was your greatest gift. Without screens or gadgets, you built castles in your minds, played with marbles and sticks, and listened to the radio as families gathered close, heart...

Sister Tracy Browning in General Conference talked about music in primary and how the Primary songs helped the children and herself. That got me to thinking about my youth in grade school. Once a month a man would come by the school house (we called him the Bible man). He would spend a half hour with us and tell us a bible story and give us a card with the scripture on it to remind us what he talked about. Well that same organization ran a bible school for the kids for a week during the summer. For about three or four summers, my mom made sure Bob and I went to summer bible school. The Bible Man drove a school bus and picked us up at nine in the morning and took us to a church each day. At bible school we had classes from 10:00 to 11:30 and then we had a lunch (a sandwich and a glass of milk). Then we learned songs till 1:30 and back on the bus to go home. This was Monday thru Friday and Friday night we had a little program for our parents, the most important part was us...