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Monday, March 24, 2008
Famous Since July, Oblivious Until Today

I would think myself truly ungrateful if I didn't stand, I mean sit, here today and blog about an experience I had just this afternoon. As I was trying to find something for a friend, I found something about myself . . .


I hope I don't offend you, dear reader, by briefly forsaking the solemn themes of politics, education, and NCAA basketball, but I have a religious/commercial matter to discuss. It just arose this afternoon.

I was minding my own business, more or less, scrolling through the posts at a blog called Bishop Higgins Third Ward -- which, for the record, I recommended about a year ago in a blog post of my own entitled, "Is Laughter a Form of Worship?"

My errand there was to grab a link to an old post to send to a friend. I was a little distracted at first by some of the recent posts I hadn't read, such as "The real reason the organist was released" and "We rate your testimonies." But soon enough, I was into the familiar material.

Then I saw an old post I somehow hadn't read before, about a high-end Relief Society kit, for the teacher who needs instant credibility. It's $1300, but it includes everything a teacher in that august organization might need, from a large-print version of the poem "Footprints" to a "porcelain figure of a woman with eight kids, crying." (That last comma makes all the difference in the world.) The last item on the list, right after the "tabletop easel" -- it's good to have your own, in case the library is out of easels that day -- is this item: "Hilarious joke picture of Dostoevsky getting baptized by David Rodeback."

I realize there are other David Rodebacks; we've been through this before. Twice. But I'll bet I'm the only one who owns the complete works of Fyodor Dostoevky in Russian -- all 32 volumes, or 30 depending on how you count them. These precious volumes were part of my research for that PhD dissertation I never quite finished -- er, I mean, haven't yet finished. This David Rodeback has to be me -- or more grammatically, he must be I.

This discovery actually solved a small mystery. Last time I visited the Relief Society in my ward, my presence seemed to make the teacher nervous. This puzzled me, because I'm a relatively harmless fellow, for a bishop, and she actually taught well. But now I understand. Her teaching was just fine, but she felt guilty because she wasn't using the kit. She probably doesn't even own the kit.

Sister W., you're forgiven. You used a tablecloth, which is what really matters. By the way, I don't own the kit, either.

Bishop Higgins, whoever you are, I'd be pleased to buy you lunch. I'd like to thank you for making me famous, and then we'll talk about my royalty.


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