Warts and All

Week #4 on the Island of Misfit Toys was also our first high council Sunday as a ward.

The high councilman who spoke delivered a very interesting message, I must say. Included among his thoughts—and I'm paraphrasing here because I wasn't smart enough to write down his exact words when he said them—was the idea that the adversary tries to make us "strive for perfection rather than self-improvement."

I took statement that to mean something to akin a recent general conference address by Elder Dallin H. Oaks, in which he spoke about things that are "good,  better, and best." Ultimately, of course, perfection is our goal, though for many of us, that's thousands of years in the future. In my case, we may be talking five or six digits. Or more.

However, self-improvement is something that is attainable in this lifetime—whether it be on a daily, weekly, monthly, or yearly basis. Self-improvement is a "good" or even a "better" goal that will, ultimately, take us to the "best" goal, which is that of perfection. We have to start with self-improvement and keep working at it throughout this lifetime before we can even begin to consider moving on to attaining something like perfection.

Still with me, Mouseketeers?

This concept, I believe, is also directly relatable to dating. So many of us may be looking for the "perfect" man or woman rather than one who is a genuinely good, dedicated, faithful Latter-day Saint who has flaws and challenges, warts and all, yet who also has goals and is striving to improve him/herself at all times.

It's something that affects both the women and the men. For each woman who wants a Captain Moroni or a Nephi, there's a man who wants a Rebekah or Rachel (whom Jacob served 14 years for because he was that much in love with her) or any number of exemplary women from the past or the present.

Were I to ever find the "perfect" woman, why would she want to date me? I am not the perfect man. "Intelligence cleaveth unto intelligence," and all of that, you know?

This is also not to say that it is a good idea to, then, "settle" for someone who does not inspire you to be better, who has no goals or ambitions, who has a nice-looking car and muscles but can't carry on a conversation with you for more than two minutes, nor for someone who sees how far he/she is from perfection and has given up trying altogether. Nor for jerks. Especially not jerks.

It's just to say that there are no perfect men nor women from which to choose in the dating pool.

But perfection? That is for another day and another time. Also, it's for Costco cheesecake.

An Angry White New Year's Eve

There's no fanfare or public relations work to do tonight. I'm not gonna even post a link to this one on Facebook. It may even be deleted by morning if I care enough to take a second look. I'm tired of defending myself against the world anyway and of having to answer all of the smart alecky devil's advocates, many of who should really know better anyway. I don't need to be the one to tell them.

Sometimes, you just need to get it out of your system.

If the Angry White Loner were truly angry and a loner, he might lament the fact that it's New Year's Eve. Again. There are parties to attend, but at this point, they feel only like an obligation. One is a Church dance for single adults of the younger set, from whom the AWL has been cast out as a leper and unclean, while another is for the old set, who have been assimilated by the Borg, and, I daresay, there are very few who have met each other more than once in a year's time. The third option is the marrieds party, which, you might guess, is for the married friends.

The AWL would just be a third wheel. Or fifth wheel. He forgets which one it's supposed to be. But you get the picture.

He also set a new personal "best," if you can call it that, this month, batting .000 in the dating department. That's 0-for-9. He tried to get a date nine times and was told no, thanks, nine times. One of the girls he asked out four times, four weeks in a row, before she finally remembered that she had a boyfriend. Or she made one up. Same effect, either way.

He tells himself to brush himself off and keep trying, but rejection still hurts. If you care even a little bit, it has to. Nothing risked, nothing gained. All of those slammed doors on the mission pale in comparison.

Not that he is bitter. Haha!

Ergo, he's in a room full of people, yet all alone at the same time. It's not from a lack of trying, he reminded himself more than once tonight. That one thought is a small consolation. The only consolation. There is that cute girl who wants to get to know him better on the online dating site, but she lives in Alaska. Nope, nobody in the immediate, 1,000-mile radius tonight.

Nobody cares. They go through the motions of caring, but they don't. None of the ones he cares for and wants to care for him in the same way, at any rate. That's the Catch-22 of it all. They all say they want a sense of humor and kindness and all of that gooey stuff, and end up picking the jerks anyway. Or, they pick no one. 'Cause there's only one Captain Moroni, and it certainly ain't you.

There are men out there on death row, for crying out loud, who have women madly in love with them. Convicted murderers, rapists, kidnappers, spousal abusers, child molesters, etc. Yes, the AWL is aware he has brought up this tidbit before. It never helps nor changes anything. But it still bothers him.

Another thing that bothers him: Angry White Close Relative and he had a conversation today. AWCR brought up the word that has crossed his mind several times before on sleepless nights but that no one has mentioned to him face to face until today: alone. That death knell of words. That's how you're going to end up, it was strongly implied. Maybe it was said right out loud. He doesn't really remember because he was stunned to hear it said out loud at long last. Either way, the message got across.

You had someone who cared about you not long ago, AWCR reminds him. She made you quite happy, didn't she? He can't believe he's doing it, but he cites Jane Austen.

"'Quite happy' is not enough. 'Quite happy' is not the ending I want to write for my story."

One in 500, he calculated not long ago. That's how many out there are still trying. Out of 30,000 people in this county alone, 29,000 seem to have given up. Completely. Either that, or they're hiding under some very large rocks out there somewhere. They fill up their lives with books and movies and Farmville and the badge of busyness and a thousand other things except for the most important thing they could be doing. As far as caring goes, they have declared themselves immune, exempt, and forfeit. He recognizes he feels passive-aggressive about it all, and though it's often been his defense mechanism, it's something he knows needs to work on in 2014. But he still notices it.

This is why people hate the holidays. This is why they get S.A.D. during this time of year.

Well, at least there's 101 Dalmatians on Netflix to keep him company. And that will have to be enough for tonight. Not the animated one; the live action one, with Dr. House and Mr. Weasley as the henchmen.

Yep, that's what the Angry White Loner would write only if he were truly angry and a loner. Which he clearly isn't.

Not in the least.

. . . Wait, the Lakers lost tonight?! And Disney's Robin Hood is on Netflix, too?! This day just got 10,000 percent better.

That's a Deal Breaker!

What are your deal breakers?

It's a question that got me thinking a couple of nights ago when I watched the latest episode of one of my favorite TV shows, "Studio C," and saw the music video posted here.

A deal breaker, in this sense, then, is defined as "something that makes it impossible to continue dating someone else." At least, that's how I define it.

Some of the Angry White Loner's major deal breakers include:


 -Jerks

 -Inability to be honest with me

 -Clinginess/high maintenance

 -Major baggage

 -Publicly or privately insulting or disparaging members of my family

 -Wanting anything less than a temple marriage, and/or supporting principles or causes that go directly against Church doctrine and teachings

 -Refusal to support my interests or hobbies (sometimes, this involves merely giving me time and/or space to pursue them rather than participating in them)

 -Voting Democrat

 -Preferring cats over dogs

 -Preferring country music to "good" music

 -Not liking Star Wars

 -Not liking "Weird Al" Yankovic

Just kidding about those last few. Only partly.

The One-Fingered Salute

People's behavior very rarely ceases to amaze me—especially when they are behind the steering wheels of their cars.

Within the past few days, I had two very different encounters with other drivers who were driving right behind me. The first one involved three rather grizzly looking men who were all sitting in the front of a pick-up truck in the lane behind me. From my rearview mirror, I could see that all three of them were giving me the one-fingered salute, aka flipping me off.

The thing is, I don't know why they were doing this. Generally speaking, when someone gives you the one-fingered salute, you know you've messed up. I didn't cut in front of them in traffic or anything—I was very sure of that, as I had just made a left turn and had turned into the proper lane and everything.


To try to diffuse their anger or whatever it was that prompted this gesture, I stopped at the traffic light just ahead, turned around, and showed them the Vulcan hand gesture. You know, from "Star Trek."

This, is at it turns out, did not help. At all. The truck driver saw it and immediately flipped me off again.

Okaaaaay then . . .

The second incident occurred earlier this evening, when I could see from my rearview mirror that a man (driving) and a woman (passenger seat) behind me noticed my license plate (LDSJEDI) and began to laugh. The woman took out her cell phone, as people are wont to do when they see my plates, and took a photo, while the man gave me a confident "thumbs up" gesture, which I was happy to return back to him.

To tell you the truth, it all kind of made my day—just at the experience with the three men in the truck kind of ruined my day. I am the kind of person who tends to take these things personally.

Speaking of personal preferences, I definitely prefer it when people make my day. And not in the way that Clint Eastwood meant.

I guess what it boils down to is we all have the choice whether to be the kind of person—and driver—who makes someone else's day or the one who ruins it. I hope to be the kind of person who is the former and not the latter.

Sports Rivalries and the Rameumptom

Once again, folks, it's time for Holy Week.

Or, to describe it more accurately, it's the time of the year when even 50- and 60-year-old men act like bratty teenagers and get into "my dad can beat up your dad" chest-thumping shouting matches with each other over something as trivial as a sporting event.

For those who don't live in Utah or who are not familiar with the phrase, the term Holy Week refers to the seven days leading up to the annual BYU vs. University of Utah football game, which culminates in (usually) a grueling and hard-fought grudge match that leaves the winning team with a great sense of pride and bragging rights and an "in-your-face" smugness and the losing team with a sense of embarrassment and shame that lingers for the next 365 or 366 days. Or longer.

It's all really very silly. It tends to turn otherwise sensible, decent, and good people into raving lunatics and jerks. It can ruin friendships. The rules of good sportsmanship are completely forgotten. And the silliest thing about it all, at least as far as I see it, is that neither team's fans have any control whatsoever over the outcome of the game.

The sore winner's bragging can basically be summed up this way: "The team that I root for beat the team that you root for, and even though neither you nor I have any impact on the result of the game, my association with said winning team makes me, as a result, better than you. It's even better if my team beats yours in a humiliating fashion. In order for me to be happy, we win, and you lose."

The sore loser, meanwhile, finds excuses for his or her team's loss ("it was the referees' fault" or "we had an inexperienced quarterback this year," for example) and berates or makes vulgar gestures toward the other team's fans. He/she will never, ever utter the words: "The better team won today. We will do better next year."

It's most definitely a guy thing, but, over the years, I have seen more than a few females get in on the hype, too. And, of course, it happens on both sides—both those who bleed blue and those who bleed red.

Holy Week reminds me of Chapter 31 in the Book of Alma, in which Alma, Aaron, Ammon, and a few others head out on a mission to Antionum to reclaim the apostate Zoramites and find them praying on top of something called the Rameumptom, which is translated as "the holy stand" (Alma 31:21).

Alma discovers the Zoramites praying: "We believe thou has elected us to be thy holy children . . . and thou hast elected us that we shall be saved, whilst all around us are elected to be cast by thy wrath down to hell; for the which holiness, O God, we thank thee; and we also thank thee that thou hast elected us, that we may not be led away after the foolish traditions of our brethren" (Alma 31:16-17).

Fortunately, the gospel is not "win-lose" but "win-win." We are exalted only by humbling ourselves and by helping those around us to be better, just as we try to improve ourselves day by day. In the words of U2 and Bono: "If you want to kiss the sky, better learn how to kneel."

It's okay to love your team and to want them to do well and win. I grew up in a sports-loving family, along with sports-loving parents and four sports-loving brothers who played basketball, football, soccer, softball, and about every other team sport (and a sister who came around when she met her sports-loving husband), and I've known no other way of life. I love it when my teams win and feel bad with them when they lose.

It's also possible to be an enthusiastic sports fan without climbing up on the Rameumptom—in other words, without being a jerk about it.

Black Holes and Vacuum Cleaners

Over time, I've come to realize the sad truth that some people are, simply put, like black holes and vacuum cleaners.

They just plain suck.

The term suck, in this sense, refers to people who, to paraphrase Bruno Mars, "take, take, take it all but (they) never give." Whatever their motivations may be, they take your time, emotions, goodwill, compliments, money, possessions, etc. and they offer none of their own in return.

Like the lady who, a few years ago, ran past a Yield sign, entered a roundabout I was already in, and collided with my car, they will not only refuse to accept blame for the trouble (in this case, car accidents) they create; they will then turn around and accuse you of being the person who instigated the whole mess.

People who suck are something unfortunately encountered among some supposed friendships. As a result, their behavior tends to be something of a friendship killer. It's also an unfortunate result of some dating experiences - and I think we've all been there at one point or another.

In dating, they are the people who string you along and use you for any number of what amount to be selfish purposes. Dating them is like pumping quarters into a slot machine for hours on end; all the while you dream of some kind of reward or result, but you get bubkes back and end up bankrupt emotionally.

I bring this all up as a result of a conversation I had with a friend the other night. This friend is a mutual friend of someone I went on a few dates with not long ago, and I learned a few things that helped me to understand why this person completely flaked out what I thought was our potential relationship. In a nutshell, someone she had dated earlier, who had acted like an utter tool and whose behavior led to them breaking up, decided he was suddenly interested in her again and wanted to get back together with her. Therefore, even though I had behaved gentlemanly toward her and she had only nice things to say about me, I was dropped like a rock.

I felt, in a word, used. I doubt it was this person's intention to make me feel this way, but that was the effect nonetheless.

Of course, some very good advice was given on this subject 2,000 years ago. The Savior instructed us to "pray for them which despitefully use you" (Matthew 5:28). I know that statement applies in all relationships in which we're adversely affected by people who suck and that it's what I need to do in this case. There's no other sane way to move forward.

It also leads me to reflect whether I have unintentionally ever been a person who sucks, be it in dating or in any other relationship. The AWL has admitted before that he is a work in progress, and if this is the case, he begs for your forgiveness.

At the same time, it doesn't mean we need to keep people who suck around us. What did Nephi and his clan do when Laman and Lemuel had used up all of their opportunities to be good? He put a great deal of (physical) distance between himself and the Lamanites. Though they were his brothers and he still loved them, he could no longer stay around them, or he would perish. He even lived long enough to see wars with them during his lifetime.

Forgive? Absolutely. But forget? Well, that just leads to our being vacuumed up off of the carpet, like so many particles of dirt, again and again.

Lowered Expectations?

The relatively new film The Perks of Being a Wallflower arrived in the mail yesterday from Netflix. I watched it with great interest.

Don't worry, folks. This isn't going to be another movie review, as the AWL has already posted a couple of those lately. I merely wanted to focus on one particular thought-provoking scene from the film.

The main character, Charlie, is a high school student who develops a major crush on Sam, one of his classmates. (Sam, by the way, is played by Emma Watson in one of her first post-Harry Potter roles.) The only problem, however, is that Sam is dating someone who's not really a very good person for her (or for anyone else), and she seems to be somewhat oblivious to the fact that Charlie likes her, much to his frustration. He's fretting over this fact when he asks his English teacher, Mr. Anderson---one of the few adults he feels he can talk to---about it.

"Why do nice people choose the wrong people to date?" he wonders.

"We accept the love we think we deserve," comes the reply.

It's a very profound response to a question that, I think, we all wonder about at times. It also leads me to a follow-up question: "Why do people, then, feel like they deserve so little or that they don't deserve something better?"

The answer (or answers), I believe, is not an easy one, because people are so different by nature. Some people, for example, choose to date certain other people because they are scared of being alone and fear that they will not meet anyone else who will want to be with them, or perhaps they are tired of waiting around for someone who meets those standards. Consequently, someone who falls below what these people really want is better than no one at all. I call this the "Good Enough for Now" syndrome, if I can borrow the title of a "Weird Al" Yankovic song that pretty well reflects this very idea. (If you haven't heard it, download it from iTunes - now! You won't be sorry.)

Others are attracted to a person not necessarily by the person him/herself but by something else that comes with that person, such as good looks, money, a nice car, etc. Don't get me wrong; there's nothing wrong with any of these things. They are all things I'm looking for in a mate. But when there's no personality to go with them, or the person is not someone who can carry on a conversation, I think, there will be problems.

Don't even get me started on the phenomenon of women who fall in love with convicted murderers---yes, convicted murderers---because they believe they are the only ones who "understand" them or they can "change" them.

Single men out there: Let the thought that there are women who are in love with convicted murderers, and not you, lull you to sleep tonight. (Yes, I realize that it goes both ways, too. Probably.)

I recently had a conversation with a close family member in which the subject of dating happened to come up and also the fact that I am now the lone, remaining single member of my siblings. (By the way, thanks for reminding me about that, family member.) This person pointed out that there had been several girls interested in me over the years, and I had certainly had my "chances." While I recognized that this was, technically, true, I was quick to point out that had I gone ahead with any of the relationships in which I was the one to break things off, I would have ended up being miserable. The same goes, I'm sure, for those relationships in which the girl was the one to break things off.

That's at least one thing I have on my conscience: I did not let go of anyone I shouldn't have let go of. Going forward in the present and future, that idea will be my guide, and I certainly don't want a single female to "settle" for me, either.

No one should ever have to. I want to find someone who not only is a good person at heart but who also makes me want to be a better person than I now am (not hard to do, I freely admit), who makes me count down the days and the hours when she is away, and who makes me ache at the thought of losing her. I would hope that she would feel the same way about me.

As children of God, we all deserve so much. And if we, as Latter-day Saints, truly believe in eternal relationships and marriage, then eternity is a long time to pass with someone we have merely "settled" for. Conversely, it will be paradise, indeed, with someone we truly love and cherish along for the ride.

The Condescension of Friends

As a follow-up to my last post, which was on the topic of bullies, today I'd like to address another form of bullying: condescension.

For those who may not be familiar with the term, condescension means, for lack of a better sentence or a simple definition: "I'm better than you, I'm smarter than you, and, doggone it, I'll go out of my way to point that out to you as often as I can, you moron."

Those who are condescending to you may not necessarily be smarter than you are, but they act like it regardless of that fact. Not surprisingly, when I conducted a Google search for images relating to the topic of condescension, several photos of President Barack Hussein Obama came up. I'm not kidding.

To back up their vast array of knowledge, the condescending trot out their college diplomas and say, "Look at this, stupid!"; they quote from a scholarly book no one has ever heard of except for them and their best friends, who happen to run MENSA; they reference a random class they once took a decade ago and were so immediately skilled at that the professor was fired, and they stepped up and began to teach; or they may even resort to name dropping about the famous folks or celebrities they pal around with.

The motto of the condescending person may as well be, as Dave Barry once wrote: "Everybody has their opinion, and yours is wrong."

Most people who fit the above description of the condescending person are not people whom I would want to be nor am I friends with. Naturally, these people should be avoided like the plague.

It's a much more subtle thing, however, when condescension appears in the form of your own circle of friends. These aren't people who necessarily maintain a friendship with you because of how well you get along or how much time you spend together currently but are nonetheless affiliated because you went to school or worked with them, or you lived in the same neighborhood growing up, or you both happened to be members of a memorable college or institute class, or the like. Past shared experiences of one kind or another bond you as "friends" even though they may do less-than-friendly things to you in the present, such as point out in front of a group what an idiot you are; write things on your Facebook wall that may attempt to be funny, pithy, or clever but come across only as rude and insensitive; single out the flaws in your creative efforts while giving little (or, in many cases, zero) positive feedback or encouragement; and on and on.

To be fair to people who fall into this category, I don't think they mean to do it, or at least they don't recognize exactly what the effects of their behavior are. To paraphrase Cole Sear (Haley Joel Osment) in M. Night Shyamalan's The Sixth Sense: "I see condescending people. Walking around like regular people. They only see what they want to see. They don't know they're condescending."
Now, I'm not saying that it isn't good to be smart, to have a good education, to read a lot of books, or anything like that. What I am saying is that it is more important to be charitable than to be smart, because it is possible to be both - but charity is the greatest. Condescending people tend to mix up the order of these two qualities, putting being smart above being charitable.

For an example to illustrate this point, I think back to when I was called to be deacon's quorum president in my ward at age 13. I was set apart to this position but was not given any sort of training as to what a deacon's quorum president should do or how he ought to act. At that vulnerable young age, I stood up to conduct my first deacon's quorum meeting and made some announcements before sitting down in my chair. One of the counselors in the bishopric, who was sitting in on the meeting, then proceeded to lecture me - in front of the entire quorum - about what I had just done wrong and how a deacon's quorum president should act and pointed out multiple things I should have done differently, all to my great embarrassment.

This man wasn't wrong in the sense that I could have done a better job or that I had not presented myself well, but to do it in front of the entire quorum, to me, was not only condescending but very hurtful and wrong. It was the kind of thing that makes some people drop out of church attendance and go inactive.

In the Book of Mormon, Jacob spoke of those who “when they are learned they think they are wise . . . wherefore, their wisdom is foolishness and it profiteth them not." He also added: “But to be learned is good if they hearken unto the counsels of God (2 Nephi 9:28-29)."

I got over my little episode as deacon's quorum president. I hope that the counselor in the bishopric did, too. I've since met many people and had friends come and go, and I've known many humble people, as well as a few who, like the aforementioned well-intentioned but poorly executing counselor in the bishopric, were also condescending and who are now people I largely try to avoid. I'm always most impressed by those who really are far more educated than me and have every right to be condescending but who don't act like it, whatever office or position they may hold. Instead, they choose to be humble and are down-to-Earth enough to speak to me as an equal and on my level.

Movie Review: "Bully"

Today, I hope you'll allow me to talk about a serious issue.

Yesterday, the relatively new documentary Bully arrived in the mail from Netflix, and I watched the film last night with a great deal of interest.

As someone who endured my share of bullying in grade school - especially junior high school - I must admit that this movie affected me deeply, and I found myself relating to many of the experiences shared by the five different stories of bullying that were presented. One is of a boy who was born prematurely and is now taunted by his classmates for the birth defects he suffered as a baby; another is of a girl who has had enough of her bullies, pulls a gun on them on the school bus, threatens to shoot them, and then spends the next several months locked up in juvenile detention; and a third tale is of a girl who has come out as a lesbian and is then shunned and avoided by most people she comes in contact with (a type of emotional or psychological bullying).


An additional story, and perhaps the most poignant of the five, is of a bullied teen who is not around to speak for himself and whose parents, siblings, and friends, instead, speak for him. Why is he not around to be interviewed for the film? Because he was hazed and made to feel worthless on a daily basis, up to the point that he made the tragic decision to take his own life at age 17. There is even a reference in the film to an 11-year-old boy - 11 years old! - who, very sadly, has taken the same route.

What exactly was it that happened to the AWL in junior high? you ask? Without going into too many details, in order to protect the guilty, I was made fun of in the locker room because of my eczema while in the seventh grade. Not only did I find myself having to adjust to life as a junior high student that year, dealing with no recess and lockers and going from classroom to classroom, but I also had to take showers in gym class. Those who shared the lockers adjacent to me noticed my skin rash when I changed clothes every day and soon nicknamed me "rash boy." They did other hurtful things such as hiding my clothes when I returned from showering. Finally, I was saved by a doctor's note that excused me from showering, and I could change clothes when my bullies were, thankfully, in the showers.

Then, in the ninth grade, my five siblings and I rode the bus to school each day, as we all attended a private elementary/junior high/high school together in Guaynabo, Puerto Rico. For some reason unknown to us, the others on the bus - comprised of high school and junior high students - decided to gang up on us and make fun of us both individually and collectively each bus ride, finding whatever excuse they could to do so. The worst part of it was that these were people in our own LDS ward that we also had to see on Sundays at church; the ones who should have been our greatest allies were, instead, our biggest enemies. They didn't mind picking on us, whatever their motivations may have been, and the fact that my youngest sibling was then only in kindergarten did not deter them from their cruel actions.

Yes, they were okay with taunting me, but they were also okay with harassing a six-year-old, too. My best friends from that time in my life were not in my ward but were of other faiths and were my classmates at school.

Back to the movie: It raises some interesting points, the most important of which is bullying others emotionally, mentally, socially, or physically based on their physique, body, sexual orientation, religion, race, or for any other reason is not acceptable. In other words, "don't be a jerk," and teach your kids, be they your own kids or those in your classroom, to be treat others as they want to be treated (something old fashioned we like to call the Golden Rule).

Another important point: Report bullying when it happens so that it can be dealt with immediately. Bullies not only make their targets feel worthless but also make them feel like tattletales or "momma's boys" when they tell an adult - be it a parent, teacher, or principal - about what is going on. As a result, many of them tell no one and suffer in silence for an extended period of time, and that's how I, too, was made to feel and what ended up happening in both of the examples from my own life.

Thirdly, if you're someone who is a witness to bullying, stand up and make your voice heard. Bullies tend to act in groups and not necessarily alone, following the mob mentality. If one friend stands up and says that bullying is not okay, others will follow. Peer pressure can be a positive thing, as well as a negative one. Especially in the seventh grade, I desperately (and silently) hoped one of my classmates would say something or come to my aid, but it did not happen for several weeks. Teachers and administrators look out for bullying and sincerely want to nip it in the bud, but their eyes and ears can't be everywhere at once.

Is this why the AWL is angry and a loner? you now ask? First of all, I'm neither of those things today, since some of you have asked me about it, and "Angry White Loner" is just a name. Those experiences of being bullied affected me for a time, true, but as time passed, those bullies grew up, and most of them have turned out to be good, decent people. A couple of them even issued friend requests to me on Facebook in the last few years.

One of the kids in the movie points out that those who are bullied end up wanting to hurt others as a way of feeling better about things or of coping, and I'll admit that I went through that stage, too. Fortunately, that stage also passed, and I grew out of it.

Junior high is hell, and I, for one, know it for a fact. But, it, too, shall pass for everyone who has to go through it.

As a final note: Though the film is rated PG-13, there is one scene in which a camera captures a bully uttering three or four f-bombs in succession, and they are not bleeped out. Like a similar scene in the otherwise brilliant Waiting for Guffman, it is over quickly. That scene aside, Bully is a must-see for parents, administrators, teachers, and kids (at least those in junior high) alike.

Mr. Nice Guy

What's so good about being nice? Sometimes, we members of the male gender are left to ponder deeply on that question.

The problem with being told that we are "nice" or "great" or some sort of equivalent of the term is that it is so often followed by the conjunction but and then a less-than-flattering or backhanded compliment such as, "I'd rather drink a whole bottle of ipecac than go on another date with you."

Okay, to be fair, I've never been dumped with those exact words. But when a girl tells you in no uncertain terms that she's not interested in continuing to pursue a relationship with you, being the gentleman that you are and all, it can sure feel that way.

I don't know if women are naturally programmed to tell you you're "nice" as a means of softening the blow, or whatever their motivation may be. To the guy who is about to get dumped - and, believe me, he knows it's coming - it is something of a death sentence. It's like walking into the dentist's office. You know that an unpleasant experience is about to happen, but you know that you have to do it. The times I've been told I'm "nice" or "a good person" just before a breakup, it honestly does not make me feel one bit better about myself.

I think I should state for the record that I also don't think women intend to be cruel when they do this. I think nature or society or whatever programs us to be this way - both the woman telling the man that he is "nice" and the man feeling like, as gentle or polite as the woman may have been in telling him this, he has just been the victim of Mola Ram's tearing-your-still-beating-heart-out-of-your-chest Thuggee ritual in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom.

Keep in mind that when actor Christian Bale went on his now-famous rant on the set of The Dark Knight back in 2008, he first told the lightning director or assistant gaffer or whoever it was who had ruined his shot: "You're a nice guy!" He then proceeded to rip the man's head off, deep fry it in vegetable oil, smear it with buffalo sauce, and then take large bites out of it. In a verbal sense.

What to do, then, boys? If being "nice" is actually such a bad thing, what should be our course of action? Is the solution to stop being "Mr. Nice Guy" and become a jerk? This is another question that keeps many in my gender puzzled. Quite often, we look around us and see guys who are jerks to us, as well as to many others, with no lack of female companionship on the weekends. I feel sorry for those female companions, because sooner or later they're in for a world of hurt.

I honestly don't know the answer, so perhaps that is why I pose these questions. One thing I do know: It is better to be kind. It is better to strive to be a good person. It is perhaps best of all to love others as our Savior would. Our actions should not be motivated by what we either expect to receive from others or how we expect to be treated in return but from a sincere, personal desire to love our neighbors as we love our Father in Heaven.

One final thought: Someone who sees the goodness in you and recognizes that as something attractive rather than something repellent is really the kind of person we're all, deep down, looking for anyway, isn't it?