Waimea Falls

On the final day of my parents visit we wanted to take full advantage of a beautiful day and head to Waimea Bay. It didn't go so well. The waves were so big that no one dared to get into the water. The trade winds came in and destroyed one of our beach umbrellas, then attempted to highjack the other. At one point I held onto Luke with one hand and our good umbrella with the other, while watching the tattered umbrella roll down the beach thinking "Hmmm...I hope that doesn't impail someone." As a final straw, Luke transformed himself into a crabby patty (with cheese) and decided to cry incessantly while not sleeping.

So we packed up our things and headed up the nearby canyon to a retreat called Waimea...something. There's nothing like a good botanical garden to salvage an otherwise disappointing day. It combined two of my favorite past-times: looking at strange plants and physical exercise. The waterfall at the end was very cool, but it was a good 3/4 mile hike to get there.

I got nature all over me.

We're all here for you - this is a safe place

It was wonderful to have my parents here and enjoy their company for two weeks. I'm very proud of my dad for building a successful assessment firm and grateful that it gives them the flexible schedule and available means to travel around to visit us wherever we happen to be living. Here in Hawaii they enjoyed their new prosperity by renting a silver convertible to cruise around the island. It made me a little uncomfortable that Morg was constantly pointing out how much better his Sebring was than my Saturn. I winced a little at his constant references to my being a 'professional student' who couldn't make it in the real world. But, for the most part, I just tried to enjoy the visit and overlook the various ways I don't measure up. Monday afternoon we waved good-bye as they drove their convertible to the airport.

The next morning I walked into the bathroom to discover our toothpaste was missing.

It was a surreal moment. Could Morg possibly have taken my toothpaste? Why would anyone do such a thing? My mind reeled as I tried to understand such a senseless act of cruelty. It was a brand new bottle of Crest - the expensive kind that stands upright. We spent the extra money because the kids make such a mess with the tube.
I know the extra money means nothing to a successful business owner like my dad, but for a struggling PhD candidate it's quite a lot.

Then I remembered the proverb from the Bible about the poor man who lived next to the estate of a wealthy landowner. The rich man had his friends over for a party where they all ate candy. When it was time for everyone to brush their teeth, instead of using one of his own many tubes of toothpaste (from his many bathrooms), the landowner went into the tiny bathroom cabinet of the poor man and took his small tube of toothpaste to give to his guests. I don't quite remember the end of the proverb, but I'm pretty sure the poor man got gingivitis.

I'm genuinely worried for my father. Successful people become accustomed to staying in fine hotels and being able to take whatever they want. What's going to happen the next time he stays with me, or my sister? Instead of toothpaste it might be an electric razor that's missing. Or possibly even a kitchenaid. Or a DVD player. There's no end to the damage he could do if these kleptocratic impulses go unchecked.

So I've decided to act. This year at the Strate family reunion my family and I are going to stage an intervention. We'll collectively confront my dad and explain that we love him, and we're glad he's successful, but he can't continue to plunder our bathroom cabinets in this manner. It's just not right. I'm confident that our combined love and devotion can break him of this destructive tendency.

I just hope it's not too late.

The Culture-iest Place on Earth

It's nice to have family in town because you have an excuse to take time out to all the fun things you never make time for otherwise. Friday we went with my parents to the Polynesian Cultural Center. Normally cultural means boring things like symphony's and art exhibits and monotonous museums. But this was good cultural, hula dancers, spear-throwing, and guys playing with fire.

The PCC has many different villages representing peoples from Samoa, Tahiti, Tonga, Hawaii, New Zealand, and Marquesas. We watched a documentary in the IMAX theater which informed us about how coral reefs are dying due to climate changed and made us promise to write-in Al Gore's name for President. We watched the amazing canoe pageant go by demonstrating many traditional dances. For dinner, it was the traditional Hawaiian Luau experience. At the beginning employees dug up a pig that had been slowly roasting for hours. Then I ate it. To cap off our experience, we watched the night show performance, featuring music and dance from around the Pacific.

Note: This video has been re-edited to exclude photos that certain individuals have found objectionable.

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No Three-Peat

Join ESPN'S Tourney Challenge

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Group Name: 301NIBadgers

password: Madison

This year the winner will receive the envy and admiration of as many as 3-4 fellow players.

I'm easy like Sunday morning

Last Sunday we blessed Luke in Sacrament meeting. We waited a few months so that parents could be here and it was great to have my dad with me in the circle. Luke seemed to enjoy being the center of attention, and at three months old he was big enough to hold the microphone for me. So that worked out nicely.

And somehow the day got even more special when we spent the hour after church standing out in the hot sun taking pictures. The temple is right next door to our Stake Center, so we made the short jaunt over for our photo shoot. Despite the heat I was patient and considerate of others, as is my nature.

The sea was angry that day, my friends

My parents arrived in Hawaii last week. They've been staying in a beachside bungalow and spending their days walking around Laie and enjoying the pleasures of the nearby beaches. Finally on Saturday I thought we might be ready to take it up a notch (Emeril). It was time to introduce them to the realsurf. We headed up to Sunset Beach, rented some flippers, and prepared ourselves for a confrontation with the North Shore.

The confrontation didn't last long. After Morg and I had been floundering in the water for no more than fifteen minutes or so, the ocean threw our carcasses up on the shore like two pieces of sun-burned driftwood. We had been weighed. We had been measured. And we had been found wanting.

My neck will be sore for days.

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All religions teach you to be good

This year I spent my Valentine's Day down at the University of Hawaii presenting a paper at their International Graduate Student Conference. UH has the East-West Center, a pretigious area studies program that focuses on all aspects of Asia. I was one of 135 presenters from all over the United States, Canada, the PRC, Taiwan, Korea, Indonesia, Japan, and yes - Hawaii.

It was my first opportunity to present some of the research I conducted in Thailand last year, in between sight-seeing trips. Last month I completed a the first rough draft of a chapter to the dissertation. It examines the Thai government's attempts to eliminate the Catholic Church from Thailand. From 1940-1944, Thai authorities banned Catholic meetings in most provinces, seized or destroyed Church property, and deported or imprisoned many clergy. This campaign of persecution lasted until 1944 when it became apparent that Japan would lose the war and the Thai decided to begin preparing for an Allied return to Southeast Asia. I argue the Thai attacked the Catholic Church as one of the most prominent symbols of the old colonial order they wanted to replace. Despite never being colonized, Thai nationalism from this era was extremely anti-colonial.

It was quite possibly the greatest academic presentation in the history of the modern university. I received some very positive feedback and interesting queries from other particpants during the question and answer session. I also enjoyed other panel sessions involving a diverse array of topics including Cham inscriptions and the resurgence of identity among Taiwan's indigenous peoples. The most important part, of course, is to get the conference on your academic resume.

Next step, revise the article and send off to a journal for rejection...or, possibly publication.


I think I really connected with other students by using their question-answer time to explain why my work was so much more interesting than theirs.

I see great things in baseball

Right now Kaddi's life consists of two activities. Providing a source of food for Luke and driving Meg and Jake all over Oahu for their baseball practices and games. I'm a little worried that her demanding schedule might be leading to over-exhaustion.

When Suzi was visiting us she forgot to bring a bottle of lotion, so she asked to borrow some. Kaddi provided an extra large bottle of Dove. As Suzi rubbed it onto her hands and arms she noticed that it didn't absorb like her regular lotion at home. So she looked at the bottle and discovered it was Dove hair conditioner. Could that be a sign someone is mentally fatigued?

On the bright side, Kaddi's arm hair has never been more manageable.

Saturday we were down in Mililani for Jake's game. The weather was cooperative.

For several innings Jake was stationed at the hot corner. Of course, in this league where kids don't really hit the ball that much, they call it the lukewarm corner.

The confident batsman.

The conscientious base runner.

Due to the intensity of the Hawaiian sun an umbrella is an essential item, even when its not raining.











In fairness, Kaddi is not the only one whose decision-making can be called into question. A few weeks ago I had to drive down to Kaneohe to get some diapers. Kaddi sent me off with instructions to get 'Huggies or Pampers - the brand name doesn't really matter.' I thought: if the brand doesn't really matter then I'll buy Safeway diapers for 9.99 instead of Huggies for 23.00.

My shoddy attempt at frugality backfired. Kaddi wouldn't put Safeway diapers on the baby, and in fact they're still sitting in our room. Instead of saving thirteen dollars, I wasted ten.

Happy Birthday, George

Many of you know me as a talented complainer. It has been a past-time that has brought meaning into my life. I can even complain about Hawaii. I complain about our apartment. I complain about coin-operated laundry. I complain about not having a car. I complain about the nearest store being an hour away.

And then comes a day when there's nothing to complain about. What's a guy to do?

Monday was just such a day. It was warm, but not hot. There was a breeze, but it wasn't windy. We packed up the chitlins and headed off to the beach Since we had Luke with us we decided to stay close to home and enjoy Hukilau.

It was a day not soon to be forgotten. Many other families were there enjoying the surf, but it was not crowded. We sat on our towels staring at the blue water as we listened to the waves. And the children played. And Luke slept.

And somewhere in the recesses of my memory rested blurred images of winter in another place and time. Bone-chilling walks home from the bus stop. Wiping condensation off the windshield with frozen hands as we returned from a friends house late at night. Trying to warm my ears after arriving at class. But those memories are worn and sun-bleached

In a few months they'll be gone.





"I think we're going to need a smaller strap"



"So, when you set your VCR to record, the television doesn't have to be on the channel you're recording..."








"No, I don't think that hat makes you look like girl"

Ich bin ein Swapper

Last weekend Kaddi's sister Suzi came out to visit us here in Laie. It was a whirlwind trip, and since it rained most of the time we didn't even get to go to the beach. No matter. It was just as much fun to stay in our apartment and watch The Mummy Returns. Again.

The highlight of the trip was to be Oahu's famous swamp meet. Every weekend they set up a huge outdoor market at Aloha stadium where you can buy as second-hand merchandise to you heart's content. As we drove down to Honolulu, all packed into the Saturn, we dreamed of the fabulous bargains we might find on stuff we wouldn't really use. I was planning to get a baseball hat with flames streaking down both sides.

Imagine our disappointment when we arrived at the stadium to find our beloved swap meet displaced by the NFL's Pro Bowl. I tried to console the family and explain that this was a good thing. Instead of wading through crowds of human roaches digging through each other's garbage, we could spend the afternoon watching the best of the National Football League sleepwalk their way through a game whose ultimate objective was not to get injured. Alas, there were no takers. Our group opted instead to spend the day at the Ala Moana Mall.

After a couple hours of browsing through the ABC stores, we decided it might be exciting to find the bail bonds location owned and operated by Dog the Bounty Hunter. But, since we didn't know where that was, and since we didn't even know where we were, that ultimate prize proved elusive. Our day has started out with such promise, and yet we had failed to realize our most important objectives.

Was it worth missing church? That is for history to decide.

I don't know what you're talking about

I'm watching Mike Huckabee on CNN right now explaining how he's not dropping out of the race because the country needs a choice.

The country made its choice, Mike. And it wasn't you.

Anyway...

Today I had to send out an email to one of my classes. I have a section with only seven students in it, and none of them seem particularly excited about history. For last Thursday's discussion I had only two students show up on time and neither of them had looked at the assigned readings. So, I sent out an email to the class list explaining my expectations, and how their grades reflect participation and attendance.

A few minutes later I received an email response from one of the students which said:

"You sent this to the wrong student. I have no idea what you're talking about."

So I doubled checked my class list, and yes - in fact - this person was in my class. They hadn't attended class all semester. So I responded explaining that they were still listed on the class roster, and they might want to think about dropping the class.

Twenty minutes later, there was a knock at my door. A panicky student sat down and explained that she'd been attending another section of 202 for over a month now and handing in assignments to another instructor. Now she realized that she was actually registered in my class. We're six weeks into the semester now. It's too late for her to drop my class, and even if she could there'd be no way she could catch up with all the assignments.

*sigh*

I should be glad of another death

This week I read Chinua Achebe's No Longer At Ease in preparation for the weekly discussion portion of my History 202 course. Although its not as well regarded as Things Fall Apart, another of Achebe's books, I found it to be a very interesting read. I highly recommend it to those of you looking for an example of good post-colonial literature.

No Longer at Ease relates the experiences of Obi, a young man who returns to his native Nigerian after spending four years at university in England. He arrives in Lagos with dreams of lifting his homeland out of bonds of colonialism, but becomes increasingly disillusioned as his idealism is frustrated by both traditional and modern barriers. At its core, the book is a tale of alienation. Obi struggles to reconcile the demands of family and acquaintances with his new position and status in the government ministry. He becomes aware that his experience abroad, along with his Christian upbringing, has made him a stranger in his own country. He loves and hates Nigeria as he loves and hates himself.

Achebe is both insightful and impartial in his discussion of how racism immobilizes and embitters a society. Obi experiences racism while in England and again from his white superiors in the government ministry. But on arrival in his home village, his relatives express their joy that he has not married a white woman. Most tragically, Obi is to distraught to learn that his family and community reject his fiance Clara because of her disreputable tribal origins. By attempting to defy these social conventions he brings disaster on himself and Clara.

Within this narrative Achebe explores the unintended effects of educating young Africans in the western model. He asks "What is the purpose and result of this education?" Obi's supervisor, Mr. Green, denounces the practice of educating Africans, claiming they only use their diplomas to grab all they can for themselves and their kin. Obi himself believes knowledge is a power to be utilized in modernizing his country, but he feels overwhelmed and inadequate at the impossibility of his task. In the end, he is slowly crushed between traditional expectations and modern limitations.

"My friends...I don't like you"

Given John McCain's recent victory in Florida it appears likely that he will eventually be the Republican nominee for President. This has set off a firestorm of debate and controversy over the man and his Senate record. Radio talk show hots, tv anchors, newspaper columnists and everyone else are now busy explaining why McCain will ruin the party and most likely the country if he manages to win the election. Some party faithful are even conflicted over whether to not vote or even (gasp!) vote for a Democract if McCain is victorious in Minneapolis. I find this entire conversation so silly and pointless that I naturally wanted to plunge right in.

For the most part, I don't have a problem with McCain in terms of policy. Anyone who tries to define the term 'conservative' so narrowly that it doesn't include John McCain is doing the Republican party no favors. The fact that he disagrees with Republicans on certain issues (although they are BIG issues) almost makes him more appealing as a candidate, not less. After all, don't we want our congressmen to think for themselves, instead of just towing the party line? I also think that McCain-Kennedy was a good piece of legislation. Immigration law in the U.S. is such a disaster that any improvement should be supported by all Americans.

The failure of McCain-Kennedy helps explain why McCain would not make a good President. Although he styles himself as a modern Henry Clay (the Great Compromiser) the bill failed because he wouldn't compromise on what became the most important issue to so many Americans - building a border fence. And the reason he wouldn't compromise is that he cares more about 'reaching across the aisle' and impressing his friends on the left than he does about the base of his own party. He now claims that he's the best qualified to lead on the issue of immigration because he 'comes from a border state.'

Well, Senator - if you're so qualified, why didn't you listen to the people in your own state when they said they wanted a fence?

Far from being someone who will bring Democrat and Republican together, McCain can be counted on to alienate both. I've watched very carefully as he's crossed the country giving various states his special dose of 'straight talk'. This involves finding an issue that's important to those states and griding it under his heel. In Iowa he says, 'Screw your ethanol subsidies.' In Florida he says, 'Screw your diaster insurance.' In Michigan he says, 'Screw your manufacturing jobs.' And in Arizona he says 'The border fence is a stupid idea, I know better than you.'

I'm not suggesting McCain needs to pander to these states (the way Romney clearly did in Michigan) but isn't there room for discussion? You think Bush and Cheney have been arrogant? Just wait until you see the McCain administation. He adopts hardline stances and then is alarmingly vindictive towards those who criticize or question him.

That vindictiveness was first apparent in 2000 when he lost South Carolina BIG and then accused the Bush campaign of dirty tactics, a charge that has never been proven. This time around, after playing the victim of Romney's attack ads for several months, he did one better with his 'timetables' distortion only two days before the Florida election. That was real hard-ball politics. McCain cloaks himself in the robes of an altar boy only to disguise how he's going to stick a shiv in your ribs.

McCain also demostrates an alarming need of approval by the media and the left. Right now he's busy using the memory of Ronald Reagan to tout his conservative credentials. But the moment he's got the nomination look for him to begin distancing himself from the right and saying 'Hey, don't associate me with that gaggle of gay-bashers, polluters, and abortion clinic bombers. I'm a maverick, I'm my own man.' I'm convinced his position on Global Warming and ANWAR represent his desire to be included in that 'enlightened' group of environmentalists. He may end up as a President hated by both Democracts and Republicans.

Finally, McCain demonstrates all the self-absorbed, self-righteous, tendencies of the baby boomer generation (although certainly he represents the best of that generation). He now uses his status as a first-rate war hero to treat others with disdain. He acts as though because he was a POW, he is above criticism, that the Presidency is owed to him. Bob Dole and George Bush both served in WWII, but I don't remember them talking about their veteran status HALF as much as John McCain. He was contemptuous of Bush in 2000 for 'serving' in the National Guard. He's now contemptous of Romney because Mitt comes from an privileged family and went to Harvard. In the debates he has this ascerbic manner of winking and chuckling to himself as he talks down to you. If you didn't spend time in a Vietnamese prison camp, you don't rate.

But it looks like he'll win the nomination. Giuliani has dropped out to prevent splitting the moderate vote with McCain. Huckabee, who seems to be running for Vice President, will stay in to split the conservative vote with Romney for Super Tuesday. McCain will lose in November, and I don't know if that's a bad thing. The strength of democracy is balance, and I think it might be time for the political pendulum to swing the other way for a few years.

Out on the Blacktop

Two weeks ago Jake started his first season of basketball in the Laie sports league. Here in Hawaii they play an unusual style, where they combine the protocol of basketball with the full contact of rugby. Jake is still adjusting to the new format.

Jake likes to get out in front on the fast break and wait for someone to feed him the ball.





...still waiting....




He's decided to concentrate on defense, since it seems easier to take the ball away from the other team than to convince his own teamates to pass to him.

I'm Mack Strate and I approved this message

I read an ad in last month's Ensign asking members to submit video ideas for commercials that the Church could use to promote the family. So, Jake and I put together this little sketch and sent it in to Salt Lake. The winners will be announced during General Conference week in April.

I think we've got an excellent shot.

Photo and video editing at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Is he still under warranty?

Meg has been looking forward to having a new baby for some time now. She is extremely excited to have Chubber Chalong in our family and always offers to hold him or help in other ways. But it's becoming increasingly apparent that she is disappointed by his performance so far. After all, usually a toy is at its best when its brand new. It's only after we've played with it for months that it starts to show signs of wear and tear and become less effective. But babies are a littile different. They start out with some quirks, then get more interesting as they have time to grow. Andyway, whenever we introduce the baby to friends or colleagues she takes it upon herself to point out all his defects. Here's an example of a recent conversation.

SHANE: Say hello to our little guy, Luke.

FRIEND: What a big boy - how much did he weigh when he was born?

KADDI: He was eight pounds, twelve ounces.

MEG: He grunts all the time because he has gas.

FRIEND: Was it a hard labor?

SHANE: I did pretty well, actually. I thought I would be nervous, but...

KADDI: (interrupting) I was induced on the Monday, and after they broke my water it was only a few hours until l'il Lukey arrived.

MEG: And he had acne all over his cheeks.

FRIEND: I think he's a handsome boy. I'm surprised he doesn't have red hair like your other two.

KADDI: It was a surprise to all of us. I think eventually his hair will turn blonde.

MEG: Then maybe he won't be cross-eyed anymore.

long silence

SHANE: Well, we better get this little guy home....

Getting the Star Treatment

Maybe it's because we've been anxiously waiting for this baby for so long, but I think we may have lavished a bit too much attention on l'il Chubber-Chalong. Everywhere we go, people makes a fuss over him, and this has caused him to be a little too full of himself. I blame the nurses in the hospital for always telling him how handsome he is - it didn't take long for him to believe it. Now he thinks the entire household should revolve around him. It's always...Chalong needs to eat. Chalong needs his diaper changed. Dad needs to sleep on the razor-thin edge of the mattress so Chalong can have the middle. What a primadonna.

The kid really lives in a dreamworld. The other day he was talking about what an incredible athlete he is. I tried to point out that just because his pajamas said 'MVP' on the front didn't really make him the Most Valuable Player. I knew I was right, but have you ever tried arguing with a newborn? He doesn't listen to anyone.

So far we've been cutting him a lot of slack because he's the new guy, but things had better start to change - and soon. He needs to understand that he's not the only member of this family. His needs shouldn't always have to come first. Heaven forbid he should do something to help around the house - maybe make dinner for Kaddi once in awhile.

I just think it's a little early for him to be acting like a teenager.

He thinks he's soooo cool in just because all the newborn chicks in Gospel Doctrine dig his Sunday threads.

To celebrate a successful nap, Chalong makes me carry him out of the bedroom on my shoulders.

We're all getting a little tired of him constantly asking us to 'check out my guns!'

Living by bread alone

I think this is why missionaries aren't allowed to tract in Thailand.

The rolling stone gathers some moss

Last night was a new experience for our family. Ever since Jakob was born we've lived a nomadic existence. Utah, California, Wisconsin, Thailand, and now Hawaii. We've never lived in one place for very long - we were meant to wander. As such, our kids have become accustomed to making friends and then saying goodbye when it's time to roll their belongings up in a hankerchief at the end of a stick and head on down that lonesome highway.

But this time we met a family even slightly more transient than ourselves - a family here in Laie for only four months doing an internship at the university. Their kids have been Meg and Jake's best friends since we arrived here in Hawaii. Since we all arrived in TVA at the same time we've been acclimating together. Yesterday we experienced the strange sensation of saying good-bye to them as they headed back to the mainland. For once, we were left behind.

The Pecks were nice enough to come over and visit even though there was usually nowhere for them to sit.


Meg and her friend were in each other's live - same class at school, same class at primary, even the same Christmas choir.


Sure, you're losing your best friend - but that's no reason to block the TV.


Chalong was exhausted by the emotional outpouring.

The Visit

It was wonderful to have Kaddi's parents out in town for the week that Chalong was born. Del babysat the kids while the rest of us were in delivery and Sharon managed to stockpile a few more sweatshirts with North Shore themes. Even though their time out here was short, we took them to all the tourist attractions, including: Laie elementary school, Kaiser Permanente hospital, and the TV in front of the university bookstore that shows CNN. It was the Hawaiian vacation they always dreamed of...

Boxing Day Blahs

Well, Christmas is officially over. Kaddi invited one of Jake and Meg's friends to sleepover on the same night and then decided to hide out in the bedroom with her baby. This leaves me to supervise. I'm trying to figure out how to be just mean enough that they won't want to come over anymore, but not so mean that they'll stop being friends with my kids. Any suggestions?

I also received my Christmas present that came late - a pair of khakis from Old Navy. Kaddi had ordered 36" length pants, but what arrive was 28". I guess this semester I'll be the only professor on campus wearing capris.

Mele Kalikemaka is the thing to say

It's wonderful to have a newborn at Christmas time. So far Luke has been the baby Kaddi and I always knew would could make. He eats well, he sleeps well, and when he's awake he's usually content sit back and take in the scenery. His temper does flare up a little when he feels he's not being fed on time - you don't want to be in the way of his tiny fists of fury when that happens. It's amazing how manages to stay so balanced. Christmas can be a very stressful time for babies. I read somewhere that hiccuping goes up 25% during the holidays.

We've resolved to enjoy these simple times because we know that his youth and adolescence are going to be much more complicated. Since Luke is a native Hawaiian, we will face serious cultural and ethnic challenges as we try to incorporate him into our family of mainlanders. Some of you have already remarked on how his golden skin doesn't match the pasty complexions of our other children. As Luke becomes a teenager he will no doubt have many questions about his Polynesian ancestry and heritage. We may even decide to enroll him in a Hawaiian immersion program if he's interested in re-capturing his indigenous language and dances. Most of all, I worry about his reaction to the history of his people. How will he handle it when he learns that my ancestors stole the land of his ancestors and turned the islands of his birth into one giant military base? Who will show him how to make tapa? Who will tell him the great tales of the first peoples arriving from Bora Bora? What if he hates hockey? I think I need to seek out the advice of other multi-cultural families. There are so many questions to answer.

Fortunately, I have the pleasanties of the season to distract me from these weightier matters. We went to two Christmas programs for the kids this week - one at the elementary school and one at the university. I thought they would be regular Christmas programs full of children's songs, but the second was actually an extravanganza of Polynesian culture. Meg and her friend even had a 'solo' in one part of their song. It was so entertaining and education I decided to put together a small highlight reel of the week's festivities.

I may need it in a few years when Luke is asking me to teach him the Haka.


div>

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'Baby Chalong'

The internet premiere of Baby Chalong (with a special guest appearance by an overexcited Meg).

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Luke 8:12

I'm happy and relieved to write that baby Luke was born today at 1:44 PM Hawaii time. We arrived at the hospital at 8AM to have Kaddi induced, and things progressed very quickly. By 11 AM they had broke her water, and the contractions came very suddenly after that. After three hours of labor we had our little boy.

As we made the long drive down Kamehameha highway this morning at 7AM Kaddi was a little disappointed that she had to be induced. She was hoping that the contractions would just start suddenly so the pain would catch her off-guard, instead of the big build-up and the nervous anticipation that accompanies it. For her it's like requesting someone to torture you for a few hours.

I, on the other hand, really like the inducement method. It's so controllable, so orderly. It's a like a few generations ago when they would purchase by mail. You select something you really want from the Sears-Roebuck catalog, and then nine months later you go to the train station to pick it up.

Luke measures 8 pounds, twelve ounces and measures twenty inches. Our biggest baby yet. When they put him in the baby tray to measure him his huge feet were stretches out over the end of the tray. He has long tapered fingers and (hopefully) a sweet temperament. We're really not sure what color his hair is, but it doesn't look red - much darker than either Jake or Meg.

I'll work on getting a picture posted sometime today (although I'm a little upset to see People magazine already has photos on their website - those vultures.) I'll probably end up driving back to Laie this evening to bring Jake and Meg in to see the baby. This morning when we left Meg was a little teary. She said:

"I'm just so happy mom is finally having a baby."

It is the will of the gods

In November Meg was nominated by her teacher as a 'Super Citizen', an example of a fine upstanding youth in her community. Since I didn't have classes on her special day of recognition I went along to observe this strange schoolyard ritual.




The money changers at work outside the temple









I can only assume that the SuperCitizen assembly was once a beautiful ceremony devoted to the pure ideals of civic virture. But like so many celebrations, the meaning was slowly drained away as it became increasingly commercialized. Today it has been reduced to nothing more than a frenzied orgy of laminated certificates and laffy-taffy.



On this day the rain stopped just long enough for the student to bring their plastic chairs out of their classroom and assembled themselves in the courtyard. Then students from each grade are called up to the podium, where the principal presents them with their certificate and parents bring up their candy leis. I spent ten dollars (ten dollars!) purchasing candy strung together by the bourgeois capitalists who set up their stands outside the school that morning. Handing over that money felt like passing a gallstone, but what's a parent to do? Is a principle worth your little girl being the only one in the entire school not wearing a candy lei?



Meg stood proudly on the podium as the remainder of her classmates prostrated themselves in worship of their twin gods Sucrose and Glucose. We hurried up with other parents to place the leis on their shoulders and take pictures. After all the students had been recognized they had a very bizarre skit involving two guys dressed as 'Ernie and Bernie' from Shark Tales jumping around and yelling with Jamaican accents. I think it was about communication.

I thought two leis was excessive, but as we walked out of the schoolyard we saw a girl with at least ten candy-leis around her neck. I wonder if the candy fairy visited her that night.

Time to shut it down

Most of you are aware of how much I love my office. Aside from my family (and Jason Whitten) there's nothing I enjoy more than sitting down in my own personal quiet pace with the door closed, my computer on, and my dissertation materials all easily accessible. It's the one place the scholar-nerd in me can be truly happy.

So why will I probably spend this week at home working on the kitchen table with my exams, papers, and research materials inter-mingled with Meg's drawings of happy little girls and giant birthday cakes?

I'm in hiding.

Yesterday was the first day of finals week, which means that a tidal wave of underachieving students has crested over my office, and the flotsam and jetsam of the student body is still clinging to the walls of the hallways. This is the time of year when the surfer and the sunburned wipe the sand out their eyes and begin shuffling off to their professor's offices in a half-hearted attempt to negotiate a passing grade.

Yesterday I was beseiged with requests, demands, excuses, angry emails, sob stories, and explanations as to why it was my fault they didn't understand what to do. (Of course, there are many bright, intelligent, dedicated students here as well. But you generally don't see them thise week because they're busy doing what they normally do - studying and preparing to succeed on the final.) Here's a few sound bytes from the soundtrack that was yesterday for me:

"I know I didn't turn in most of my work, but you haven't been very accomodating with your deadlines."

"Can I do this assignment over again? The first time I didn't read th instructions about there being two parts."

"Can you tell me what's going to be on the final?"

"Could you look over my paper and tell me if its good or not before I hand it in?"

"What do I need to do to pass this class?"

"I need at least a C- or my family will lose their housing privileges at TVA."

"I didn't turn in most of the assignments, so could you give me some extra-credit work to do?"

"I'm sorry I plagiarized my first research paper, but if you give me another chance I promise I'll actually do the research myself this time."

"I had a hard time concentrating in class because I was captivated by your rugged good looks and gorgeous hair."

"Professor Strate, are you aware that your website 301NIB is currently the target of a hostile takeover by the Sheinhardt wig company?"

After a while, I tried ignoring the knocks and pretending I wasn't there. Some students just got the department secretary to knock on the door for them. It was terrifying.

In the face of such an assault, I will now do what professors have always done. I'll run away. Students can communicate with me through email if they really need something, and then I have a chance to screen what is important and what is whining.

I am the hunted.

Afternoon Delight

The best part about living in the TVA campground is that the kids can go outside to play all the time. They really didn't get a chance to play outside in Thailand because it was just too hot. We're entering the rainy season here, but still get some sunny days to enjoy outdoors. Here's a video clip from Jake playing the classic football game 'interception.' It's vintage Jake. He runs a thirty-second route, makes a few half-hearted jukes, and then falls down.

Photo and video editing at www.OneTrueMedia.com

How is Kaddi?

It is now December 4th, which means that my mom has now been playing Christmas music for two weeks already. Many of you are now doubt getting ready for Christmas and enjoying winter landscapes and new fallen snow. Well, we don't have snow here in Hawaii, but I did come home today to find the grass in front of our apartment covered with flecks of white. It seems that a herd of free-range toddlers liberated someone's styrofoam cooler and tore into it like a pack of wild dingoes. It was frightening to survey the carnage. I've decided to order armor-plating for our baby stroller to help protect l'il Snerdley from the diapered destroyers that roam through the projects.

So what news of baby?

Right now Kaddi is doing very well. Thankfully the weather has cooled down quite a bit since we arrived, so she's sleeping a little better. But having a small human being inside your body is making her increasingly uncomfortable. We suspect baby may be studying martial arts, because ever few hours Kaddi gets a karate chop in the ribs.

Despite what the Baby Snerdley counter may indicate, we're not exactly sure when the baby will come. December 17th is the date that given us during the first ultrasound. We're going to need to figure out a route in advance, because its a hour long drive to our hospital on the other side of the island. We're still in negotiations with Kaiser over whether they will induce Kaddi or whether we'll just wait until she goes into labour.

Also, the 301NIB viewers chose Snerdley as a first name for the baby, but there is some disagreement about a second name. Kaddi would like 'Michael', which is her brother's name. I'm holding out for 'Chalong', the name of my advisor in Thailand and a word that means 'celebration.' So far there is a lot of resistance to giving him a Thai name. We may have to compromise and follow the Utah Valley custom of naming him after a luxury car.

We'll let everyone know the minute Snerdley Landrover Strate is born.

I'd like to give the world a Meg

Wednesday night we went to a Christmas event featuring Meg's children's choir. At least we thought the event was dedicated to the children's choir. It turned out to be a half hour variety show hosted by Laie's version of Marie Osmond. The highlight of the evening involved Santa jumping out of one of the presents on the stage. Kaddi and I estimated that he must have been in there for almost an hour. I hope someone poked St. Nick some airholes.

Here are a few highlights...

Make video montages at www.OneTrueMedia.com

"Who am I? "

Last week the Bishop called me to be the Sunday School Pres. of the Laie sixth ward. For someone who tries to avoid most forms of participation, this is the best calling ever. You don't do anything and people still have to call you 'President.' Just fill in for someone when they don't show up for their class, and remember to push the warning bell on time. It's a far cry from planning an activity every Tuesday night, organizing the occassional scout camp, and dealing with irate parents when their son gets left at the church. So I wasn't too worried about living up to expectations this week when I was sustained in Sacrament meeting. How could I have know this calling would present me with a moral dilemma that would cut me to the quick.

I was sitting in Gospel Doctrine at the end of the second hour counting down the last few minutes like a kid on the last day of school, when the teacher snapped me back to attention by saying:

"Well, I'm not sure how much time we have left. The bell hasn't rang, and I see the Sunday school Pres. sitting here in class, so..."

And I was thinking, "Hey, Poindexter! Get up and push that bell, son. The sooner we finish up here the sooner I can get back...wait a minute..."

I jumped up and headed out the door, trying to ignore the judgemental glances you only receive when you're derelict in your calling. I didn't even know where the bell was located, and by the time I reached the clerk's office it was already five after.

And then I was confronted with the Gordian knot of Church calling decisions. I had been sustained this morning, but I wouldn't be set apart until after church. Technically, I was not yet the SS Pres. Did I actually have the authority to push that button? Or was I usurping someone else's power in some act of unrighteous dominion?

I hesitated and look around for confirmation, but the clerk's office was empty. I knew if I didn't push the button the second hour would go on and on. What would happen then? Sunday school teachers would run out of material, their voices would grow hoarse as they kept telling unrelated personal experiences, their arms would grow weak as they played game after game of hangman until the kids eventually revolted and they collapsed from exhaustion. Did I want that on my conscience?

The seconds ticked by. The red button stared back at me. I felt like I was on the bridge of a nuclear sub deciding whether to authorize a launch. Where was the handbook when you needed it? What mattered more : people or protocol? Should I be Gene Hackman or Denzel Washington? It was all so confusing.

Then I remembered great literary examples who faced similar dilemmas. Huckleberry Finn placed his soul in jeopardy by helping Jim to escape. Carton changed places with Darnay in the Bastille. And Jean Valjean revealed his true identity to the court, freeing an innocent man. I would follow their examples.

I pushed the button.

Did I make the right decision? I'll let history be the judge of that.

We made it chafe and sound

Last night a friend on the faculty called and invited us on his family hike to Laie Falls. A nice guesture. So, this morning Jake, Meg, and I started out on the trails through the mountains of the north shore. I was thinking this would be leisurely 1 km jaunt, something similar to Bear's hump in Waterton National park. It turned out to be 5-6 miles roundtrip. We were on the trail for four hours with sandals on our feet.

Considering the conditions (at one point it started to rain and we took shelter in a thicket of trees) the kids held up really well. It was a challenging hike with steep inclines and slipper rocks. But, we had beautiful views of the ocean and strawberry-guava berries to help pass the time. The waterfall itself was not spectacular if you're used to the Rocky Mountains, it reminded me a little more of the waterfalls we visited in Thailand - but still a pleasant place to sit and rest and enjoy the cool water.

It wasn't until we had started back that I started to feel the discomfort. It started as a mild irritant, but after a mile or so I was feeling the fire down below. Then I realized, I had forgotten to rust-proof my undercarriage that morning! I hadn't had any need for my prickly powder since we left Thailand, but here I was hiking under the mid-day sun, and I hadn't taken the proper precautions. It was an uncomfortable walk back to the car, and the chaffing thereof was great...

Jake and Meg had begun to break down well before we made it to the end, but when we got home they immediately rebounded and headed outside to play with their friends. I'm up and walking again...but slowly...gingerly.

Make an on-line slideshow at www.OneTrueMedia.com

The November Mailbag

Dear 301NIB,

Why don't we see more pictures of the beach? Are you getting the hang of the bodyboarding yet?

J. Nielsen
Bangkok Thailand

My first few attempts at bodyboarding didn't go so well. I kept my board headed straight toward the beach, got pounded by the waves and rolled up in the surf with my shorts around my ankles. I could taste salt for a week and had sand in every possible crevice.

But I'm still doing better than Kaddi. Last Monday the kids were out of school and so she took them to the beach. Even though its winter and the waves are getting bigger, she still decided to venture in to the ocean. Meg was begging her to go back to the shore, but Kaddi insisted she could handle it. Moments later a huge wave knocked her over. When she finally emerged from the water she found that her favorite sunglasses had gone to Davey Jones' locker.



301nights,

We are surprised and upset at the recent decline in Meg-related content over the past two months. Our statistics show that from Sept. 2006 - Sept 2007, stories, pictures, and videos of Meg made up almost 62% of all 301NIB posts. But since October 2007 that number has been cut in half. Is this part of some scheme to phase Meg out of the storyline? Why would you do that when she's by far the most entertaining aspect of this blog?

Meggie Scrumptious fan club
Mankado, MN

I've told you people before to leave my daughter alone. Why don't you get yourself a good medium and go bother Heather O'Rourke?

Speaking of disturbing, Meg had an usual experience at Halloween. She wanted to create her own candy bag, so she took a regular brown paperbag from the grocery store and decorated it with all sorts of Halloween imagery. Then Meg asked a girl in her class at school if she wanted to draw a decoration. When Meg got the bag back she was a little distressed at the addition. The little girl had drawn a graveyard with one tombstone bearing the inscription:

R.I.P.
Meg Strate
2000-2007



Dear 301nights,

Will the ongoing writer's strike affect your blog? How will you be able to maintain such a high level of quality without your writing staff?

Jeffrey Katzenberg
Bel Air, CA

301NIH writers are not part of the Writer's Guild of America. But inspired by the example of their Hollywood colleagues, our writers began examining their own contracts. When they discovered that they are scheduled to receive less than 2% of the Mack Strate t-shirt revenues through 2011, they decided to go on strike also.

I have no intention of giving in to their demands. Instead, I've replaced them with their Mexican, non-union equivalents. Sure, all the blogs will be written in Spanish, but we were going to start targeting the emerging Latin American markets anyway. It's just good business.

So, in the future be sure to check for insightful and amusing posts on the following topics:

- Hugo Chavez's mother-in-law visits the Presidential Palace

- Two-minute tomales

- Are you dating a Chupacabra?




Dear 301NIB,

It looks like the Cougars are once again headed to Las Vegas. Do you think there's any chance they could be added to the Pac Ten so they play in a real bowl?

Mark Lamb
Centerville, UT

The topic of BYU sports is too painful for me to talk about since my recent run-in with Lavell Edwards. The Coach is here in Hawaii for the week-long business conference at the university. We were sitting in church on Sunday and Kaddi noticed him sitting in the row behind us. When I saw we were both wearing tan pants and blue shirts I knew I had to go talk to the Coach. When I thought the time was appropriate I approached him and asked if I could take a picture. I'd always heard Lavell was a cool guy, but he completely blew me off. It was harsh blow for a life-long BYU fan like myself.

Maybe I should have waited until he was done taking the sacrament.

Citizen Jake

Last week Jake received the Super Citizen certificate at this school. It's an award they give out at Laie Elementary in recognition of turning your homework in on time, raising your hand, and not beating up other students. We celebrated this special occasion by getting a picture of Jake, his certificate, his lovely mother, and a local area man eating an ice cream cone.


















As part of the package, parents are expected to buy large amounts of candy from schoolyard vendors to present to their kids. We didn't want Jake to feel left out so we got him some candy as well. But in an unexpected twist, when he got home the candy was confiscated by the candy fairy, who then proceeded to eat most of it while lying on the couch watching the Cowboys-Giants game.

Girthy

Now that Kaddi is great with child, we get increasing amounts of mail asking for pictures showing her in her final trimester. We at 301NIB understand the value of giving the public what it wants, whether it be an analytical look at the protests in Burma, or a fetus floating inside a mystical orb. So, enjoy our pregnant pause as we celebrate these photos Kaddi and baby Snerdley. (Not pictured: Snerdley).




Why is this woman smiling? Because nothing makes pregnancy more enjoyable than carrying laundry out the door, down the stairs, and across the street to a communal landromat. I'll take my whites with extra rust stains, please...





Despite her condition, Kaddi is never too exhausted to make dinner for her family. I would help too, but there's not enough room for both of us in the kitchen.





Meg takes time for a morning photo before asking her routine question, "Will you make me waffles?"

Barbarian, Modern, Feminine

One of my favorite things about teaching history is trying to dispel the universal belief that our generation represents the apex of human development. In our World Civilization course we acknowledge how we have benefitted from discoveries made by our ancestors. We also try to uncover mentalities and problems that transcend time and culture, that are universal to the human condition.

This subject came up last week when we were discussing the Tang and Song dynasties in China. Increasing trade and wealth threatened traditional Confucian social structures, which provoked a reaction among the patriarchal order. This is the era when the practice of foot-binding became popular. Aristocratic mothers would bind the feet of their daughters, folding up the toes in the shape of a lotus. As the foot grew, the bones in the feet would actually break as they expanded. This permanently crippled the young woman.

The Chinese did this for two reasons. First, Chinese men found tiny feet very attractive. Second, if women were crippled they were not able to go out on their own. It was an sure way to make sure a woman stayed in her place - the home. Foot-binding was eradicated in China during the early twentieth century, largely due to the influence of western missionaries. Noting the reaction of shock among some of the students, I asked them if the Christians were right to eliminate foot-binding, or if this was simply another example of imperialist arrogance in altering indigenous culture to make the world more European.

At Wisconsin this would not be a provocative question. Those students are so laden with 'white guilt' that the minorities are the heroes of every narrative. Imperialist are always Caucasian males, always in a dominant position, and therefore always wrong. But at BYUH, where most of the student have yet to be indoctrinated by post-modernism and post-colonialism, there are still lots of students who still believe that western civilzation has some redeeming qualities.

Inevitably, a female student raised her hand to say that, of course the elimination of foot-binding was a positive thing. It was a male-inspired practice that crippled women solely for aesthetic purposes. Our culture may not be superior, but at least we treat women with a greater degree of equality and don't force them to suffer in order to conform to some male-inspired ideal of beauty.

This, of course, is exactly what I had hoped someone would say...

I then ask students if they are familiar with the term 'corset'. At the same time Chinese women were breaking their own feet, European and American women were cinching themselves into a painful contraption designed to narrow their waists and create the hour glass figure men found so attractive. Corsets caused physical discomfort by constricting a woman's diaphragm and making it much more difficult to inhale and exhale. There's a reason why Jane Austen characters are always fainting at an emotionally traumatic development - they can't breathe.

Even worse, scientists have determined that the tightness of a corset impeded the natural growth of a women's spinal cord. Many aristocratic women developed back problems and even scoliosis from wearing such tight-fitting apparatus. All in the pursuit of beauty.

Thankfully, corsets are no longer the style and the modern woman has been sufficiently liberated by the feminist movement that she no longer submits herself to such painful or dehabillitating procedures in order to appear attractive. Except perhaps to wear high heels, or inject collagen into her lips, or insert large sacs of saline into her body in order to...enhance...certain feminine features. I then show them slides of the evolution of the ideal female body type - from the cherub-like physique of Titian's Renaissance nudes, to the voluptuous femininity of Jane Russell during the Depression, to the stick figure Kate Moss ideal of the nineties, to the mandatory rock-hard physique of today.

The point of the discussion (I hope) is not to degrade women, but simply to point out that our culture is not so very different from the Medieval Chinese. Both societies conceive of ideal notions of beauty, and require women to engage in all sorts of bizarre rituals in order to achieve it. All of our advanced technology has not prevented us from acting out some of the same primitive behavior as our ancestors.

It is generally a very postive discussion, and a gratifying experience to watch students try to re-position themselves as their pre-conceived notions of superiority towards other cultures or eras gradually erode. For students it can be very disorienting to realize that our own ideals of beauty are not universal, and that instead of reflecting our own individual choices, these decisions are often made for us by the subtle marketing of clothing, makeup, and sporting goods manufacturers. They come away feeling a little perplexed and disoriented, and begin wondering what other assumptions they should begin questioning.

I know they feel this way because that's exactly how I felt many years ago, when my World Civ professor did this to me.

Under Pressure

Today at 9 PM Jake completed his science project. It was an enormous project that required contributions from all of us.

Kaddi conceived of the project. She bought all the materials. She typed out all the information. She formatted the storyboard and cut out the materials

I supervised the experiments and drove to my office in the middle of a thunderstorm so I could print out all the information for Jake's posterboard.

Jake's contribution consisted of watching the experiments and gluing all the information to a posterboard.

In the end, Kaddi and I learned that the match causes the air to expand and rush out of the bottle. When you seal off the bottle by placing an egg on the spout it creates a vacuum, because the pressure inside the bottle is less than the pressure outside. The force of the outside air rushing into the bottle (in order to equalize the pressure)is what forces the egg downward.

Jake learned that he doesn't need to worry about large projects because, in the end, his parents will do it for him.

All Hallow's Eve

Last night we experienced Halloween here in Laie, where we danced liked children of the night. The night before we had a ward party with games, costume contests, and more dancing. The kids had a costume parade at their school where Meg got to show off her HIgh School Musical cheerleader costume. The kids are off today and tomorrow. This begs the question, when do they do any learning?

There was a spooky laundry room here at Temple View Apartments, which had more than one kid in tears by the time they were through. Then it was off to plunder the faculty townhouses before hitting the climax of the night - Moana street. There were hundreds of people out trick-or-treating and admiring people's Halloween decorations. At one point Jake and I got caught in a rainstorm, and had to seek refuge at a nearby Luau. Somewhere in all that revelry Jake lost the muzzle of his Jengo Fet gun, and I lost our camera case. A small price to pay for the amount of candy collected (which Meg and Jake have promised to share with me.)

Photo and video editing at www.OneTrueMedia.com