Minding Manners

I picked up some lunch today at McDonald's, just like the cool kids do. Say what you will about their menu, but you can get some decent food—even salads—there for not a whole lot of money (done in moderation, of course, as the film Super Size Me reminded us all).

McRib season is right around the corner!

Anyhoo, upon placing my order and telling the nice lady "thank you" for ringing me up, she stopped what she was doing and thanked me for thanking her.

"That's the first time a customer has said 'thank you' to me all afternoon," she beamed. She went on to say that many others were too busy talking or texting on their cell phones while ordering to give her their full attention or to even make eye contact, let alone to simply say "thanks."

Saying "please" and "thank you," and saying them often, I have found, go hand in hand. If my parents have taught me anything that has helped me to make friends and to get along with others, it has been instilling in me the value of using these two phrases frequently.

One of my favorite all-time writers is Dave Barry. He's written a lot of laugh-out loud funny things over the years, but one of my favorite statements of his is also one of his most profound:

"A person who is nice to you, but rude to the waiter, is not a nice person."

I have found this to be true both when I've been the customer and when I've been the person behind the counter or desk or on the phone trying to help someone.

Good manners, it seems, are still in style. Even at Mickey D's.

We Are All Beggars

"Are we not all beggars? Do we not all depend upon the same Being, even God, for all the substance which we have, for both food and raiment, and for gold, and for silver, and for all the riches which we have of every kind?
-Mosiah 4:19

Recently, the Angry White Loner asked if any of you readers out there had questions that he might attempt to answer. In return, he received a number of queries. So many so that he nearly required four fingers to count all of them.

Tonight, he attempts to answer one of your questions for the first time. (It will require nearly four blog posts to get to all of them, as you might have guessed, so please be patient with me.)

Angry White Reader Erik asked:

"Giving to the beggars . . . do it? Don't do it? Does it reinforce their behavior? Is there an alternative? Again, I have my opinion, but I would be interested in your thoughts."

Thanks for your question, Erik. This topic has been on my mind today because of our Gospel Doctrine lesson this afternoon on the Island of Misfit Toys, in which we covered in part the Old Testament book of Amos. Not only is Amos famous for the cookies and also for the oft-quoted (by missionaries) scripture about God not doing anything save he does it through His servants, the prophets (Amos 3:7), but I learned that, at this particular point in time, the people of Israel as a whole were in deep doo-doo for, among other things, not taking care of the poor and needy.

Like you all, I've come across many panhandlers in my travels. I am not wealthy. After all, I studied journalism and English literature in college, and I pretend to be an actor on the weekends. I am of the opinion that those who have been richly blessed (as in, big bucks) are under the obligation to give more where they can.

I do not give money to most panhandlers, but I have given a buck or two to the occasional person. And, as long as I have cash on me, I always stop to buy lemonade or Kool-Aid when kids are selling it on the curbside on hot summer days.

Always.

Once, I met a young man on my way out of Wendy's, asking if I had any change to spare. I honestly didn't (I rarely carry cash these days and make most purchases with a debit or credit card) and told him so, but instead I offered to go back into the restaurant with him and buy him a hamburger. He gladly accepted and seemed genuinely grateful for the gesture.

Earlier that day, in fact, I had landed a new job after looking for one for quite a while. I was feeling particularly blessed, and this young man gave me an opportunity to "pay it forward" to someone.

That's just one example from the AWL's life. So, are people asking for money really in need, or are they conning us?

My answer is: Yes. To both.

Panhandlers fall into both categories. Some are genuinely in need, while others are not. Only God knows the heart and soul and is qualified to judge which is which, in my humble opinion.

I have a testimony of the blessings and the benefits of paying tithing, of giving fast offerings or to the Perpetual Education Fund, etc., to the Church. On countless occasions, I have witnessed the Church use these funds, infinitely more wisely than I ever could endeavor to do, to save, to lift, and to heal people of any and all faiths. To help all of Heavenly Father's children.

Angry White Dad worked for the Church for many years, during which time I got to volunteer and/or tour various canneries, bishop's storehouses, farms, and so on, and I saw it all in action. On a trip to the east coast that the two of us took together when I was 18, just prior to leaving on my mission, we got to see the Richmond, Virginia; Washington, D.C.; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania; and Boston, Massachusetts storehouses in action. It's the real deal, folks; it's not just here in Utah. Later on, when the PEF was created in the early 2000s, AWD got to work with that program, too. We got to see even more lives being blessed with a newfound opportunity to obtain an education.

Above all, I love that the Church teaches us to be self-reliant. It's the old adage of "teaching a man to fish" rather than giving him a fish, so that we can help ourselves and then, in turn, help others who cannot do so due to chronic illness, injuries, death of a spouse, loss of employment, natural disasters, and so forth. Because I have faith in the Church, I have faith that my contributions are being put to the best possible use.

Of course, the LDS Church does a great deal, but it does not have a monopoly on helping the poor and needy. More than one Angry White Brother performed an Eagle Scout project collecting clothing and other items for the St. Vincent de Paul Catholic charity in Salt Lake City, a rock star of an organization if there ever was one. In addition, Angry White Mom (prior to her recent accident, anyway) volunteers at the local food bank run in the back parking lot of a Bountiful Protestant church, giving service and helping customers feed their families. Yours truly had the chance to volunteer time there a few times in my previous ward. If you live in Davis County, I highly recommend paying them a visit or giving them a call to see what you can do. Odds are, they need you.

Many people may view charity as "a coat you wear twice a year," helping out at a soup kitchen on Thanksgiving and/or Christmas. While this is a worthy and an important cause, I believe charity is really more of a way of life than a check mark that you make on a list as a task to be completed. It is both in giving the bare necessities like money, food, and clothing but also in the small things, such as giving friendship, a listening ear, love, time, and genuine concern for those around us.

That little stream that said "give"? As in, the Primary song? That's what I mean.

And that is something we can all afford to do.

Benefit of the Doubt

There's something about driving in the rain that makes people's IQs drop by 50 points, I remember thinking this past Thursday afternoon. I was frustrated because I was in a hurry to get somewhere, and what should have been the quickest route had become the most time-consuming one. A brief cloudburst of much-needed summertime rain, and everyone on the road I was driving on slowed to about 20 miles per hour in a 50 MPH zone.

To quote famous stand-up comedian George Carlin (aka Rufus in the Bill & Ted's movies):

"Have you ever noticed that anybody driving slower than you is an idiot, and anyone going faster than you is a maniac?"

I'm sure we're all tempted to feel this way at times. We have our eyes wide open when looking at others' perceived faults and have our eyes half-closed regarding our own.

No more than two minutes later, I turned a corner—and, in the process, I inadvertently cut off someone else, who likely had to press his brakes hard in order to not collide with me. Vertently or inadvertently, I had messed up.

This person, in fact, then changed lanes and pulled up parallel to me at the next stoplight. I turned over to look at him and saw that he was now making eye contact with me, and I mouthed the words, "I'm sorry." He then proceeded to roll down his window to say something back to me.

Dreading or fearing what lewd gesture or comment this person had in store, I was both surprised and relieve to hear him say, with a smile, "It's okay, dude!" He even gave me a thumbs-up sign and drove off as the light turned green.

Whoever you are, random, kind stranger, thank you for reminding me that we all make mistakes, and that forgiveness is always a good option. You didn't let me cutting you off ruin your day.

The next time someone cuts in front of me, fails to signal a turn, or commits any one of a number of "oopsies" in traffic, I would hope to give that person, as this stranger gave me, the benefit of the doubt—that said person is somewhat like me, a reasonably good and safe driver who happens to have just made an innocent mistake rather than some escaped mental patient on the loose, running over curbs and cats and small trees and driving the wrong way down one-way streets and committing other serious and/or scary traffic violations.

For that, we have celebrities.

When Darkness Falls

"And in these days
When darkness falls early
And people rush home
To the ones they love
You better take a fool's advice
And take care of your own
One day they're here;
Next day they're gone."
 -Don Henley, "New York Minute"

A friend of mine started her own blog this week. I'm certainly interested in following friends' blogs, especially those who follow mine. I read through the first post and, in doing so, I learned a lot more about this friend that, unfortunately, I did not know before.

Among the facts I picked up were that, like me, she lives with depression. Unlike me, she attempted to take her own life not that long ago.

What would ever make a person want to do such thing? I used to wonder—a number of years ago. I'm sure it's a thought many of you may have asked yourselves at one time or another. If you've never been chemically depressed yourself, it's certainly an understandable query.

That was before my own battle began. And when I learned exactly what depression could do to me or to anyone else, I learned several hard, painful lessons, some of which took me years to learn. Others, I am still in the process of learning.

It certainly affected a good friend of mine, who not only suffered with depression but also with issues of anger and I-don't-know-what else. The thing is, he suffered in silence, never opening up nor uttering a word about his struggles. At least, not to me, he didn't. One summer day, the last time I saw him, he and I went to see a blockbuster movie together (the title of which is not important, but it rhymes with Revenge of the Sith). A few short weeks later, he was featured in the top story on that night's newscast.

He had shown up at his ex-wife's house and, when she opened the door, he shot her at point-blank range, killing her instantly.

Depression also, sadly, runs in the family of a handful of other friends of mine—all brothers in the same clan. One spring day, our circle of friends was informed that one of these boys had taken his own life. A mere three years later, his brother, likewise, committed suicide, as well.

I attended two separate funerals for this family over a three-year span. Both for the same reason.

So, what have these experiences taught you? you ask?

Many things, to be sure. I don't have all nor even most of the answers, but I have learned that everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle of one sort or another. Many, like my three aforementioned friends, suffer in silence or perhaps feel there is no one around who will understand what demons they are battling. What I do know is that kindness is always a good choice. I don't always choose that route, but when I do, it is always a good option.

Perhaps it's something I need to talk or blog about more. If there are any friends or acquaintances reading this who are depressed or have been depressed at one time or another, please count me among those whom you can talk to about it. If my own struggle has taught me anything, it's that help and healing are available, and though times may be dark, there is always a way to see things through. If I can help out anyone in any small (or big) way, then all of the difficult things I've been through won't have been suffered in vain and I will have learned the lesson(s) I was supposed to learn. If it's not me, then talk to someone about it—a parent, friend, bishop, or someone else in your circle of trust.

To those who don't know what it feels like to be depressed, just know that it is not imagined and is very real, and it happens to people you know—to family members, neighbors, friends, people in your ward, co-workers, etc. If you don't understand it, then at least err on the side of caution and believe people when they tell you or show that they are having a hard time.

Doctrine and Covenants 45:31 reads: "And there shall be men standing in that generation, that shall not pass until they shall see an overflowing scourge; for a desolating sickness shall cover the land."

I do not know what this scripture means, per se, and I have not heard any General Authority speak directly on it. It may refer to the spread of some sort of illness or to indifference, pride, anger, any number of addictions—even to some kind of plague yet to come. But when I read it, it reminds me directly of depression. It certainly is a scourge and a sickness to the millions who live with it.

Right now, when the days are very short in length, is a particularly vulnerable time for people who are depressed and/or dealing with S.A.D. (Seasonal Affective Disorder). From personal experience, I know that that is also a very real thing. It can truly make some people feel as dark, despondent, and gloomy inside as the sky is outside.

They're having a tough time right now. Love them anyway.

The Turkey Trot

Not to toot my own horn or anything, but (honk! honk!) I participated in my first 5K race today.

It was also the Angry White Parents' and the Angry White Sister's first 5K. We did it together, and it turned out to be more fun and more worthwhile than I had imagined it would be. Kudos to my sister for convincing me to do it, 'cause I can be a tough nut to crack sometimes.

Our 3.1-mile race, the Family 5K (there was also a 1K race for kids and a 10K race for masochists/actual athletes), was really a race only in name, as together we walked the entire length. It was never about competition, just finishing. Soon after crossing the starting line, AWS and I realized that we were prepared to walk much faster than the parental units, so instead we slowed down to walk alongside them.

In the end, the Family 5K was more about the "family" part than about the "5K." After 66 minutes on the road, which included the Angry White Loner getting in "Biggest Loser" trainer mode on his mom and encouraging her to press forward during what was for her a grueling final mile, the four of us crossed the finish line together. For their age bracket, the parents did a great job.

Something else I really appreciated about this race was the sense of community involved in the whole process. Not only did we get to walk through the streets of our beloved hometown Bountiful, but all other race participants were nothing but polite and friendly to us, as many of them ended up passing us. In addition, complete strangers standing at mile markers or handing out water or just standing on street corners to watch cheered us on and offered encouragement along the way.

It was really a great way to spend a Thanksgiving morning, and I look forward to taking part again the future. The turkey, yams, pumpkin pie, etc. that followed were not too shabby, either.

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.

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.

People's Worst Moments

"If you're gonna get mad at me every time I do something stupid, then I guess I'll just have to stop doing stupid things." -Homer Simpson

Do you ever find words, be they oral or written, coming out of your mouth - you don't really know where they're coming from, or they wouldn't be spoken/written by someone like you if you just sat and thought about them rationally for a moment or two first - and find you're regretting them the instant they are uttered? Perhaps just as bad, do you find yourself not saying or doing the things that a trusted friend or colleague would expect you to do? To the friend, the feeling of letdown or betrayal is the same whether these are sins of commission or omission on your part.

I had this very flaw in my own character brought to my attention just last night. I was reprimanded by a friend, someone who trusted me, and the thing is that I deserved every word of it.

She was right, and I was wrong - 100 percent.

I've said it before: I'm a work in progress. I still have a ways to go. And yesterday I learned that the distance I need to travel is still a long ways off. Sometimes, there is just no excuse that isn't a total cop-out; an all-out apology is necessary.

I doubt whether any of us wants to be defined by his or her worst moment. I hope that this friend will not remember by my careless actions or, rather, lack of positive actions, but instead by the good moments we have shared together.

Do you find yourself recalling someone's worst moment(s) when that person's name is mentioned, or you run into that person at the grocery store 15 years later, or whatever the case may be? I have realized that I still do, as much as I try to let go of negative experiences from the past. I felt that way not long ago when one of my seventh-grade tormentors, several years after the fact, made a friend request on Facebook.

Consider the Apostle Thomas, largely referred to as "doubting Thomas" by members of the Christian faith. He is someone who, I think rather unfairly, is certainly remembered by his worst moment. Nevertheless, a wise institute teacher once pointed out a much lesser-known reference to Thomas in the Gospel of John.

Jesus had just learned that Lazarus had died, and He was preparing to return to Judea to see His beloved friend. Concerned that the Jews had recently tried to stone the Savior, however, most of the Apostles warned Him against making the trip. That's when Thomas spoke up and said:

"Let us also go, that we may die with him" (John 11:16).

It sure sounds like Thomas isn't so "doubting" at this point, does it? Like Thomas, we all have our bad moments. Hopefully, they do not outshine the bad ones.

I suppose this is all just to say "thank you" to all of my family members and friends who love and support me in spite of my errors and mistakes, who give me second and third and fourth chances and are patient with me as I work my way through "this vale of tears" (Hymns, no. 116). I don't always do the right thing, but I hope that, on occasion, I can. I hope to return the favor to you.

Lost and Found

I'm a believer in the old saying that "what goes around, comes around." What I take this to mean is that we tend to become the benficiaries of others' good deeds when we also do good deeds in life, and that the converse is true with regard to bad deeds. Call it karma, if you will. We reap what we sow, or maybe it is the Golden Rule.

Uhh . . . let me check. Yeah, that's it. I'm all out of mottoes and catch phrases for this particular point.

Sometimes, this aspect of life becomes clear to me in a very real, concrete way. Such was the case just the other night, when I walked to my car in the parking lot and spotted a $20 bill lying there on the ground.

It didn't take me long to look up from the $20 bill on the ground to realize that it probably belonged to the man sitting in the car next to me, talking on his cell phone and apparently oblivious to the fact that the 20-spot lay there on the asphalt.

I picked the bill up and tapped on the man's window, and since he was busy talking on the phone, I tried to gesture that it was probably his and may have fallen out of his pocket. He opened his window and thanked me more than once, saying that it had probably fallen out as he was getting his keys out to unlock his car door.

No sooner had I opened the door of my own car and I sat in the driver's seat when I impusively looked at my left wrist to check the time and realized that my watch wasn't there where it normally was. I had left it at the gym, which was my previous stop before going to the grocery store. (Side note: Do not go grocery shopping when you've just been to the gym.)

I drove the half-mile back to the gym and found that my watch was not in any of the places I had been while I was there. My only hope left was the lost-and-found box at the check-in desk, and, fortunately, a good Samaritan had picked up my watch and had left it there for me to retrieve.

My two experiences of finding a lost item, as well as having one of my own returned to me, occurred within a 15-minute timeframe of each other. I had helped someone else find a lost item, and someone had done the same for me. I was grateful at that moment when it hit me, in a very real sense, that, when all is boiled down, people are still good, honest, decent, outgoing, and kind at heart. Our society is not yet doomed.

It would have been very easy for me to have scooped up that $20 bill and to put it into my own pocket - think of all of the curly cheese fries I could have bought with it! - without the man who had lost it realizing that fact until later in the evening (kind of like me and my watch!), but I'm glad I didn't.

The watch, by the way, cost me more than $20, so if anything, I was the one who lucked out.

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?