Gun Control

As part of an assignment I did for my American Government class, I chose a controversial constitutional topic to compare with other national surveys conducted. My group decided to question our friends and associates regarding the issue of gun control and gun laws. Below you will find a link to the survey we created with Google Docs. Feel free to try it out yourself. You can even see results of others.

https://docs.google.com/forms/d/1spCLSDU_8R92bvEj3dw4Adj7d6SY15qxgX5_Xav0TzQ/viewform

After comparing our results with national averages, we found that our survey evoked similar responses among LDS people. Here is a small excerpt from our group report.

"One startling difference in our findings was recreation as a reason for owning firearms.  The national data showed 13% of the population listing recreation, but our survey group listed 46%.  This is a vast difference, and is by far the most massive difference between our data and the national poll.  The difference could be traced to a number of factors.  One could argue that one factor could be the population distribution of Latter-day Saints.  The majority of the United States’ Latter-day Saint population lives in the West, with most living in Utah.  Gun laws in the Midwest and West are, in general, much less restrictive than in the rest of the country.  One could deduce that because of the availability of both firearms and locations to shoot, firearms have much more recreational value in the Midwest and West than in other regions.  As a personal example, growing up in New Jersey, I could not find a place that I could go shooting within two hours of driving.  Because of the ease of shooting in Utah, and the large LDS population that lives there, it is logical that recreation was a much more prevalent reason to own a gun in our survey than in the national poll."

You can also follow the link posted below to the Washington Street Journal blog regarding gun control to find out other interesting topics that have to do with gun control.

http://blogs.wsj.com/law/2013/11/04/the-gun-debate-turns-to-sunnyvale-california/

Raporti

After the first few weeks of school, I met a girl who seemed really interesting. We were at Family Home Evening with the ward. 

She seemed to be stuck to this guy so I figured she was already taken, but I couldn’t just let it go without making sure. When I went over to talk to them, they seemed almost like brother and sister. He kept grabbing her around the neck and messing with her hair, but she just took it. I kept asking probing questions like, “How do you two know each other?” But I wasn’t really getting anywhere. No “boyfriend” or “girlfriend” was mentioned. Jessie (that is the name of the girl) seemed very kind, and I warned her and the others around that I would be contacting all of them soon to get their information for my calling as Assistant Ward Membership Clerk. The next day during my Doctrine and Covenants class I was taking notes on the syllabus and my teacher invited us to seek revelation, even though we wouldn’t be covering anything besides the technical aspects of class. I still have the paper that says “Ask out Jess.” I was in the library studying that night and I figured I would follow the prompting to ask her out, so I texted her just to keep myself present in her mind. I found an excuse to ask for her sister’s birthday “so I could request her records from church headquarters”, and I figured I would just let the conversation fizzle automatically and then talk to her in person later. She had different plans. We kept texting and that same night we went out on our first date. Things went really fast from there. Who knows what is in store for the future!

IRONMAN WORLD CHAMPIONSHIPS!

Consider this a journal entry.

Yesterday was the day my father finally competed in the Ironman World Championship race in Kona, Hawaii. I can't describe how special it has been to be here this week and spend this time with my family and father. The Ironman race, a 2.4 mile swim, followed by a 112 mile bike ride, topped off with a marathon (26.2 miles), entices the most extreme athletes. The race took some unexpected turns, but it was special for all of us. Read on for more details about the different parts of the event.

This video hardly does the swim start justice, but you can get a small glimpse into how amazing the morning was with thousands of spectators, 2,100 athletes, and 5,000 volunteers. My siblings and I were all on the edge of our seats in anxiety, hoping that our father would be alright. Only four months after his second brain surgery, he was competing miraculously in the World Championship race despite the terminal cancer and all that comes along with it. My sister put it well with her Facebook update. "Four months ago today our Dad had his second brain surgery in a year. Over the last 15 months he has had 2 brain surgeries, 6 weeks of radiation, 11 months of chemotherapy, and 3 rounds of Avastin. The fact that he is even out here is a miracle in itself. True Ironman."

The canon signaled the beginning of the race, startling me but also bringing with it a sense of relief that it had finally commenced. We waited at the dock for two hours and three minutes until our dad finally came through the transition checkpoint to start the bike ride. He was moving much slower than his previous races, but that was to be expected. His body was compromised, but he had decided one year ago that cancer would not dictate his life and this race was proof.

Kona is a particularly challenging race due to the extreme geography of the region. The warm saltwater swim is nice, but once you get onto the bike course you ride through the city for four miles and then you are left completely alone, besides the aid stations stationed every ten miles. The course takes you through very rigorous uphills and downhills as you wind through the lava fields that have come to characterize this island. The scorching heat and almost constant headwind challenged racers to their limits.

We had connections with several of the volunteers stationed along the bike course who kept us updated on our dad, as well as with a GPS tracker on his waist to give us minute-by-minute updates as to his speed, distance, and position on the course. These special trackers had been given to only a few of the contestants (NFL MVP Hines Ward, chef Gordon Ramsey, etc.) and our dad was one of them! We hung out around the city as we watched and prayed that our dad would make it back in time for the bike cut-off time. If he wasn't back to us by 5:30 p.m. then he would be stopped and not allowed to finish the race. I personally hadn't even considered this option, thinking that if anything his medical condition would be the reason for his removal from the race. As time ticked on and my dad kept a steady pace that was slightly slower than necessary, he was eventually picked up by a support vehicle, only five miles away from the bike transition area. Mile 107. Needless to say I was devastated. My emotions were all over the place. I was overjoyed that my dad had made it that far. What a blessing! I was sad that he hadn't had the chance to start the run. I was angry because of cancer and how it had stolen half of what made my dad Dad. I felt lonely as I walked by myself along the rode where I had gone to try to cheer him on the last two miles of the race. I kept praying for help from Heavenly Father, for me and for my dad. When we found him in the back parking lot at the hotel, he had his usual smile and he was streaked with salty residue leftover from all of his sweat. He said he felt fine and I took his bike from his hands as I embraced him. Tears filled my eyes as I felt all of those same emotions again. "You're amazing, Dad." I couldn't choke out much else.

I think it will take some time to sort through everything that I am feeling. I still am confused. I still feel a certain emptiness inside. I know God is here, but I need to seek him out. I know it is in these times when we experience the most growth. I have to pick myself up again, and I have to help my siblings do the same. My dad will continue to be an inspiration to thousands. His journey is not over, and neither is his Ironman. He may not have finished the bike to start the marathon, but as a family we will finish it as a team. As is the Mission Statement of Team IronDean:

As members of Team IronDean, we don't let cancer dictate how we live our lives. We set our goals and reach those goals. We don't give up, regardless of the odds. We conquer. We rise above. We are Team IronDean.

Holy War

After 24 hours spent waiting in line to enter Lavell Edwards Stadium, the gates finally opened at 6:00 p.m. in preparation for the battle royale to take place between the two opposing forces.

Brigham Young University, a college founded by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, has a strong history of athletic excellence in football. Besides the 1984 National Championships under their belt, they have also attracted nationwide attention for their exceptional program that has raised the likes of Steve Young, Chad Lewis, Jim McMahon, Ty Detmer, and many up-and-coming stars like Ziggy Ansah, Kyle Van Noy, and Daniel Sorensen.

The University of Utah has a similar history of athletic excellence, but the author chooses to forgo a detailed explanation due to the emotional instability that resulted from Saturday's night game on ESPN, nominated the "Holy War."

The two defensive lines battled and matched forces in a consistent back-and-forth exchange of possession while offenses struggled to make big plays. BYU had a particularly hard time capitalizing on point-scoring opportunities, missing their first field goal and never officially crossing the lines of the end zone to score a touchdown.

Not to dwell on the specifics of the game, I would like to recount my experience of what happened that day leading up to the game, and the incredible fatigue that unexpectedly occurred.

Because of the change in student seating arrangements, many college students brought their sleeping bags, mattresses, and blankets to reserve their spot in line for the upcoming rivalry game. I arrived at 12:30 a.m. with 3 friends to mark out territory and secure our spot to be one of the first allowed into the stadium the next day. With a restless night among the chattering students, we remained stalwart in our decision to maintain our position and took turns traveling to our apartments to freshen up and return to the line. By noon stadium officials were supposed to stop allowing people out and in of the line ... which resulted in a barrage of students rushing to the line to get a spot. To our dismay, the staff was incapable of sticking to their guns and for the next six hours we were cut time and time again, diminishing our chances of getting a front row spot. Periodically, stadium staff took the liberty to deprive students of all nonessential items; the first to go were mattresses, cots, and sleeping pads. An hour later, chairs were banned, followed by coolers, blankets, food, and every other item that would not be allowed into the stadium. They even forced students into the line in the heat of the sun, negating them the opportunity to relieve themselves of the heat in the shade that was less than 6 feet out of reach. As the gate opening approached, pandemonium broke out. Free t-shirts were given, drinks were handed out, and more and more people jumped in with any acquaintance they could find towards the front of the barricaded line.

Emotions were high as people started getting heated about the amount of students cutting. Even I was frustrated with my "friends" who thought that it was perfectly okay to just hop the rope and stand by me. Finally at six o'clock the gates opened and everyone furiously pushed their way into the stadium to get the best vantage point possible. I didn't even have time to get my ticket scanned because of my impatience with the slow employee trying to read my all-sports card. I snatched it out of his hands and took off to where my friends and I had earlier decided to rendezvous. I was finally able to calm down when my position was secured and I could sit my weary bum down on something other than cement.

The remainder of the game doesn't need to be recounted. The unfortunate loss of BYU only added to the headache I took home with me after 4 hours of screaming, whistling, clapping, and stomping. Utah once again had bested us, and to add insult to injury, it was on our own field. I dreaded the thought of going to church the next day to hear the jokes the bishop would be delivering from the pulpit since he was a stalwart fan of the team from the north. Our pride was hurt, our hopes were dashed, and we will not be vindicated for another 3 years. Only time will heal the injuries sustained on the 21 September 2013.

Team IronDean

I am a marathon athlete.

From the beginning of my gingery childhood, I have always had a fiery thirst for competition and speed. I watched my older brothers compete in their

cross-country running events in high school and college, and I dreamed of following in their footsteps. I wanted regional championships … state championships … national championships … and Olympic gold. One day my name would rest forever among the nation’s greatest long distance runners.

Fast-forward fifteen years: October 5, 2012. After four months of speed training, hill repeats, and endurance testing, I was finally huddled around the campfires with the other 7,000+ athletes that would be racing down the red rock canyons of St. George, Utah to pave my way to Boston. Every athlete seethed with emotion, charging the atmosphere with excitement and anxiety. Because my predicted finish time was fast, I found myself with a special bib that opened access to the “Elite” corral.  Was I cheating the system? I had never even run a marathon before!

The race start came faster than I anticipated. Before I had enough time to psych myself out, I was crossing the timing strip that meant no turning back. Quitting was no longer an option, especially due to the symbol I wore over my heart and the person who was not capable of running by my side that day.

Team IronDean: to someone unfamiliar with my family’s story this name means nothing. It symbolizes the person I am and the man I have become because of my experience with terminal Glioblastoma Multiforme brain cancer. Don’t misunderstand that statement to mean I have been diagnosed with that horrible disease. I am simply surviving brain cancer as I support my father Dean, aka IronDean, in his battle against that monster.

Even though the past thirteen months have been plagued by worry and fear at times, my experience with terminal illness has sweetened my life as I cherish a renewed desire to fortify the bonds that already existed among my siblings and parents.

If it hadn’t been for his diagnosis and surgery just four months earlier, my dad would have been racing by my side. As I soared down the canyon highway, the thought of my father’s strength combining with mine filled me with inspiration and motivation. I was racing with IronDean. My eyes watered as I felt that strength fill me with energy and hope. He was waiting with my mother at mile 23 of the race.

I let gravity do its job as I cruised down the final hill of the canyon to the city entrance. There I saw them, cheering with as much gusto as they had when I was in high school. Screams filled the air. I may have startled my parents by my reaction at having seen them, but soon the screams were mutual as they responded with cheers of their own.  I held up the “I love you” sign that my mother taught us to use since we were children and yelled, “I love you Dad!” as I tearfully tried to keep up my pace. With a 37^th overall finish and a 2:43:50 time I couldn’t contain my emotion as I sobbed and hugged my parents who had made it to the finish line after our first sighting. 

This was only the first outpouring of the strength that I have received from the example of my father, as he has tirelessly fought to beat this disease and stop it from controlling his life. I receive strength from my mother who has held us by the hand and guided us through the dark times that come with this disease. She has been an example of faith and calm in a storm that would destroy most. She has tethered us to the Gospel of Jesus Christ: a reservoir of hope and happiness. Even in the ugliest times, we have seen the hand of God as he has performed miracle after miracle for our father and for our family. I would take this cancer from my dad in a heartbeat if I could, but I thank God for the blessing that it has been in strengthening me personally and bringing my family together as we lift and support one another. Cancer has not heard the last from Team IronDean.

Just a small tidbit of information. I signed up today (September 9, 2013) to run Boston Marathon 2014. TEAM IRONDEAN!