More Important Things

We LIKE going down this road. Don't mess it up for us, OK?

        Though I probably should, I can't resist a good argument.

Or discussion. Or exchange of ideas. Whatever. Here's an example of what I mean: 

I'm scrolling through Facebook. I "Like" a beautiful picture of Mount Rainier casting a shadow across the orange-gold clouds of a sunset (or maybe it's a sunrise). I save a picture of a really cute kitten standing on its hind legs to show my cuteness-loving daughter later. I wish some people a happy birthday. I read some awesome science facts. I save a few recipes. I reshare this amazing mashup of "Peanuts" comics and lyrics from songs by The Smiths.

And then I run across something a little more weighty. Recently it was a discussion about the casual use of profanity in written communication such as, say, Facebook page names; and an Upworthy post showing teenage boys and girls reacting to the "clean" (quotation marks used with full sarcasm) version of Robin Thicke's "Blurred Lines" video. And a person commenting "Jesus would have denied benefits" on a post, headed "WWJD?", of a news story about a church asking an elderly couple to leave their congregation because they sat by their gay daughter as she appealed to her government employer for same-sex couple benefits.
So, clearly, people are going to have various opinions on these issues. And as a religious and political pretty-much-conservative, I'm clearly going to have opinions that differ widely from those at other points in the Spectrum of Ethical, Moral and Political Thought. I don't expect anything different when I wade into the comment pool on these types of issues, something I do regularly. I recognize others' points of view and I hope that, as I engage civilly and respectfully with people, they will give me the same civility and respect. Mostly they do.
The thing that's becoming more and more frustrating to me is what seems to be the current argument-ender: "There are more important things than that to worry about." It's been applied in discussions I've read just in the last week to a) using the F word casually; b) female nudity in a publicly viewable video on YouTube; and c) whether it was a good or horrifyingly terrible idea to cast Ben Affleck as the next Batman. People are going along, expressing their opinions and bringing up arguments and counter-arguments regarding something that matters to them in a perfectly civil and interesting and sometimes even humorous way, and then somebody drops the I-bomb.
It bothers me for so many reasons. First, it's sanctimonious. What you're really saying when you pull that one out is something along the lines of:
* I am far, far deeper than you, you shallow twit.
* I don't see my logical and moral and ethical arguments convincing you, so I'm going to fall back on this because, what can you say? There ARE more important things than whether Robin Thicke is a satirist, a vulgarian, a sexist or just a grubby opportunist trying after years of hanging on by his only moderately talented fingernails to gain a more solid hold on fame.
* Good Lord, your priorities are out of whack. What are you doing devoting so much time to this (never mind that here I am, commenting on it, too; that's just to bring you to your senses about your problem)?
Is that really the message you want to be communicating to people? If it is, YOU'RE the twit. If it's not, stop.
Second, it's not remotely germane to the discussion at hand. Whereas everyone else is fencing, with an ethical thrust here and a thoughtful parry there, all playing the same game, you're wading in with a big club, swinging around indiscriminately and stopping everything dead. Get it through your heads, please: people LIKE to trade differing points of view, or they wouldn't be spending time on this type of forum, you know, trading points of view. All you're doing is revealing that you no longer have anything substantive to contribute. The correct response at that point is to quietly stop contributing, not to try and make everyone else stop, as well. Don't be Wreck-it Ralph.
Third, it's not remotely germane to ANYTHING. It's blindingly obvious to everyone but you, apparently, that almost everything is more important than whatever we're talking about right now. So obvious, in fact, that it's irrelevant. Are crosswalks more important than the possibility of terrorists getting ahold of nuclear weapons? Of course not. But they're still important to anyone who wants to cross the street safely. They're still worthy of talking about, and investing public money in, and having. They're, you know, important ENOUGH. To go back to a previous example, whether people use the F word in the title of a Facebook page isn't as important as many hundreds, if not thousands, of other things. But it IS something I worry about when I see it, because one of my kids is currently on Facebook and another is about to "age in" and can't wait to get her own account. Living a life as profanity-free as possible matters to me for a variety of reasons that others may not share, but that are IMPORTANT TO ME. Are you saying that your values are more weighty, more legitimate, more IMPORTANT, than mine? I doubt you want to say that, do you? I worry about what you might term "the little things" because worrying about the little things is the fertilizer of personal ethics. It's what helps a person grow a moral life. Unless there is no root to your mind at all, you must know this on some level. So why are you playing the "there are more important things" card?
Perhaps at its root, using this argument is the equivalent of saying, "I don't like it that you disagree with me but I don't feel like taking the time and expending the mental energy to actually discuss it." If that's the case, even thinking of using "there are more important things" should be like a warning bell: these waters are not for you. Don't jump in and ruin it for everyone else. We sincerely and civilly thank you for sitting this one out until you think of something more fun to say.

Half Baked

Yo, Ding Dong, man. Ding Dong. Ding Dong, yo!

It’s been a rough 24 hours or so, since news broke of the national crisis. I thought I’d share my own story, in the hope that it might be instructive and, dare I say, inspirational to others.

7:30 a.m. While doing my morning Facebook perusal before taking the kids to school, notice several friends have changed their profile pictures. One is a cupcake with that white spiral looping across it. Another is a pack of Ding Dongs. Assume it’s one of those FB trends like replacing a picture of yourself with a picture of your favorite superhero, or your own mom, or the movie star you delusionally think looks like you. Decide to pass on “Be Your Favorite Snack Cake” Day.

8 a.m. After getting kids off to school, notice several stories on Twitter about closure of Hostess bakeries. Read one. Can’t figure out if it’s a legit Web site, the Onion or a “news” site that, by the last paragraph, will have blamed the problem on President Obama being a secret Muslim, the Conspiracy of World Jewry or possibly the Vast Right-Wing Conspiracy. Still, feel flickers of anxiety ripple across my consciousness. Resent these as they interrupt plan to go back to sleep.

8:15 a.m. Stupid flickers. Decide, grudgingly, to get on with day; eat breakfast; get older daughter who starts middle school late on Fridays off to class. Turn on radio on way home. Morning drive-time hosts are talking about closure of all Hostess bakeries nationwide. Nearly drive off road in flop-sweat panic.

I interrupt my timeline here to mention that, unlike all of you who posted things like, “So sad to hear of Hostess closing, although I haven’t eaten a single one of their products in nigh on 20 years,” I actually and regularly buy and eat Hostess stuff (I suspect you are just ashamed to admit that you eat those tiny waxy doughnuts and hockey-puck-like Ding Dongs and sugar-sweet Cupcakes. Also in this category are people who say, “I buy cupcakes/Zingers/a bag of powdered mini donees once in a while for the kids.” To you I say, riiiiiiiiight!).

Cupcakes and Ding Dongs are my historical favorites, but lately I’ve been eating the new devil’s food chocolate-frosted tiny doughnuts once a week or so. I can eat a couple and give my kids one each of the rest when I pick them up from school. Family bonding time! I also ate Hostess blackberry pies almost every day my first year or two of college (I still remember picking the seeds out of my teeth; those things actually had blackberries in them, even though the filling had a consistency like library paste) and I still buy Sno Balls whenever I see the white ones. My sister Jen and I have a Sno Ball ritual: peel off and eat the thick coconut-marshmallow cloak, revealing a tasty little pill of “crème”-filled chocolate cake, which we munch down in one or two bites after licking out the “creme.” Don’t judge.

What I’m saying here, people, is that due to my penchant for unhealthy snacks, this is a real and not just a sentimental loss. Hostess isn’t part of the past for me. It hasn’t been retired, inducted into the Snack Legends Hall of Fame, given an ugly jacket, made an emotional speech and settled into to a life of golf, signing autographs at card shows, commentating for its alma mater and being featured in 15 years in a “Where Are They Now?” issue of Sports Illustrated. In our house Hostess is still in the lineup. Batting cleanup, actually. This career-ending incident leaves a huge hole in the Stacey Snack Team.

10 a.m.-2 pm. Descend into a depressed funk while alternating between listening to the radio, reading internet news sites and commenting bitterly to people on Facebook about the rapacious CEO dude who took over at Hostess, what? yesterday? and has now decided the only way forward is to close. I also reserve some ire for unions who would rather drive a beloved snacks firm into the ground than accept pay and benefits cuts. Then I consider how I would feel if we lost a pension and got our take-home slashed. Realize I would comfort myself with a pack of Ding Dongs! Except not anymore.

3 p.m. After getting the kids from school and temporarily disposing of most of them on playdates, decide it might cheer me up to buy our Thanksgiving food. I really, really like cooking all day long on Thanksgiving (more on that in a few days), and picking the turkey and getting all the ingredients is always a mood booster. The trip does make me feel better, but not for the reasons I imagine. At first, I feel more sad, because when I get to the Hostess endcap in the baked goods section, all that remains are some yellow Zingers (blech), some lemon and cherry pies (blech, blech) and (heavenly trumpets! ray of light descending from the heavens!) a single bag of Devil’s Food Donettes. Snatch it up and hide it carefully under bags of stuffing cubes to guard against looters.

3:30 p.m. I’m at checkout for a while; this is Thanksgiving buying day. While there, fall into conversation with checkout girl and teenage bagger, who is laboring mightily on my behalf. As he’s placing bouillon cubes and chicken stock into bag No. 14, he sees the Donettes and deduces I’m a Hostess fan. I whine a little bit about how these might be my last Donettes EVER (this is why I can’t get irritated with my kids when they get overdramatic about dropping a school paper in a puddle or not getting tasty frozen peaches in their lunch). But then a tiny miracle happens: this teenage kid with the untidy bangs morphs, movie-style, into a knowledgeable business pundit who gives me an articulate and detailed discourse on Hostess' assets versus its sale price and why that means someone will definitely buy it, and soon. He warns that there will definitely be shortages for a while. Still, a gleam of hope! Look for the kid as I’m wheeling my stuff out, and he’s disappeared from the front end. Maybe he went on break. I prefer to think he ascended back into the heaven from which he came to comfort us in this time of crisis.

5 p.m. onward Get home, realize The Bagging Angel was right! Sample internet headlines:

Will a Mexican billionaire family buy Hostess’ orphaned brands? Sounds great! Mexican Coke is extra delish; maybe Mexi cupcakes would be, too!

Relax, Twinkies likely to live on That’s as may be, sir; but what about the cupcakes?!! The Donettes?!?!! In the name of all that’s good and holy, what about the Sno Balls?!?!?!!!!

Analyst sees Kellogg as candidate to buy Hostess Excellent! Envision new product: super-mini choco donette cereal! Don’t even tell me you wouldn’t buy some.

Will Disney buy Hostess? OK, now you’re just teasing me.

I’m still hoarding my bag of Donettes, though. Just in case.

Christmas 2010

Dear family and friends:

As I write this letter, this century’s first decade is drawing to a close, and so is a year that has been difficult for so many people in our country and our world. So many have suffered as a result of what they’re calling the Great Recession, while others have struggled, and continue to struggle, with health, loss of loved ones and other challenges.

But life continues to be good in so many ways. In the Kratz family, we feel very blessed to be ringing out the old year together, with everyone happy, healthy and home.

We could not talk about this year’s many joys without first mentioning its greatest sadness: in August, just short of her 70^th wedding anniversary, we lost Stacey’s grandma, Jessie Johnson, who died at age 89. Jessie was a noble spirit who lived her life to the fullest, dedicating it always to the things that are most important: home, family, relationships, God. Stacey felt very privileged to write her obituary, telling the story of this lady who was a real character: a true friend to every one of her posterity, a fierce advocate to have on your side and a formidable opponent if she wasn’t — family members who aren’t fans of BYU or the Utah Jazz know this is true! We received a great outpouring of love from those who knew and loved her, and from our own friends and neighbors, following Grandma’s death. And Greg and I continually marvel at Grandpa Orson’s strength and fortitude. We know he is lonesome, but he is moving forward with his life, is such a help to all of us whenever we need him and continues to be great company. He is a man I learn from whenever we are together, and I am so thankful he is in our lives.

This time last year, Greg and I were preparing for our trip to Hawaii with my parents, Ray and Kathy Johnson, and their friends, Ballard and Nancy Mauldin. We spent the last part of February there and it was … well, it was paradise. We had a wonderful time on O’ahu and Maui and spent most of our days either gasping at whales breaching out of the ocean, eating the world’s best shave ice at Honolulu’s Wailoa Store (or, in Greg’s case, eating loco moco; see a recipe here), marveling at the beauty all around us or kicking ourselves for not taking a trip sans kids much, much sooner (OK, Stacey also spent a lot of time shopping!). We had a great sitter and friend, Aracely Campbell, to take care of them back home, we did plenty of Skype calls so we could all see one another, and it worked out wonderfully. We definitely plan to find ways to get away and renew our relationship more often in the future, and we advise all of you couples out there to do the same!

Summer travels took us to Texas to see “Grammy and Ba” Johnson, where Emma and Grace attended basketball camp with our niece, DeDee Thomas, and her friend, Mallory Hubbard; and where the rest of us slotted ourselves in to the Texas groove and “enjoyed” the hot weather. Kate had a scary moment when she attempted a forward flip into Grammy and Ba’s pool, hit the side and cut the top of her head. One emergency-room visit later, she had six staples and we had some very large bills. But hey, it wouldn’t be a real vacation without at least one catastrophe, right?

During the Texas trip, Stac and the kids (Greg had to fly home after a week) spent a few days in Liberty, Mississippi, hometown of Brad Thomas, southern gentleman and husband of Stac’s sister, Jen. It was my first visit to the “Deep South.” We hung out in the backyard with Brad’s folks, Roy and Vivian, eating cold watermelon and ice cream while the kids played Slip-n-Slide. We took a day trip to New Orleans, which was beautiful, unique and decadent and where we ate the best crème brulée in these United States, at the Palace Café. We marveled at the extent of the swamps around New Orleans and enjoyed a visit to Brad’s Uncle Rayford, who lives in the woods, has little-boy-inspiring guns and four-wheelers and let us eat all the sweet blueberries we wanted off his bushes. Roy and Vivian were wonderful hosts who managed to cram 12 guests into a three-bedroom house, and did it with kindness and hospitality.

Also in Texas, Emma experienced her first church Girls’ Camp, a super-hot but also super-fun (and, she tells me, super spiritual!) princess-themed few days north of Houston with cousins DeDee and Hannah and our friend, Mallory. DeDee and Jen drove back from Texas with us and enjoyed a two-day stopover to see Greg’s folks, Bud and Marilyn Kratz, and his sister, Lisa, in South Dakota. We had dinner with Aunt Vi, Uncle Brooks and other family members and enjoyed some nice South Dakota summer weather (that’s not ALWAYS an oxymoron) with a walk around the golf course near Vi’s home, where we discovered a pond full of bullfrogs and heard their croaks for the first time in all of our lives. FYI: they really do sound like bulls.

Back home, Emma and DeDee enjoyed yet another church Girls’ Camp, this one sports-themed in the Utah mountains, which get pretty chilly at night. Yet again, they had a great time together, and we were sad to see Jen and DeDee fly home after just a few days here with us.

But we couldn’t be sad for long, as Grammy, Ba and Uncle Zach drove up to see us just a short time later, bringing Hannah with them just for fun. We spent most of their visit at their timeshare up in Park City, which I know is called a “winter paradise,” but which actually is a summer paradise: perfectly gorgeous weather, smaller crowds, wonderful scenery. Sadly, we won’t be spending many more summer weeks in Park City, but it’s for a wonderful reason: Grammy and Ba have purchased a great house with wonderful views in Midway, Utah (just a bit further from us than Park City). They plan to spend part of each year there following my dad’s retirement in early 2011. We are so excited at the thought of close-by grandparents we can barely stand it! In fact, Grace (who has long wished she was actually Grammy and Ba’s child) is basically planning to live there with them while they’re here. Not sure how that will work out!

We squeezed in one more trip, a September jaunt to California, where we stayed in Newport Beach at another of Grammy and Ba’s timeshares, meaning that in one year we took advantage of every one of their timeshares: Hawaii, Utah, California! Thanks, guys, for the free lodging! In Cali, we visited with Stac’s grandpa, Tom Taylor, and her uncle, James; hit the beach and took a harbor tour; and went to work with Aunt Cassie up in Riverside, where we toured her courtroom and pretended to be judges and attorneys. Weirdly, that was one of the kids’ favorite parts of the trip! Should I be worried?

As this year drew to a close, another big milestone occurred in our family: Greg was released from his calling as bishop of the Sandy Midvalley 1^st Ward of the LDS Church after nearly five years of service. This was a bittersweet event, bringing both sadness and relief as well as both excitement and uncertainty about where life will take us next, and it capped a year of real change for him both professionally and personally (see his profile here).

We just enjoyed Thanksgiving with Grandma and Grandpa Kratz and Aunt Lisa, and we did an interesting exercise before eating our meal that day: everyone filled out a paper discussing various things for which we feel grateful. We all were struck by the fact that our deepest gratitude was for things that aren’t things: enduring and close family relationships, enjoying life day to day, time with people and activities that are meaningful to us. This Christmas, we want to add to our list of gratitude the Savior Jesus Christ, who is a beacon of hope, strength and joy to our family this season and always.

That your holiday will be a time of peace and joy, and that 2011 will bring you wonderful things, is our wish for you this Christmas!

Love,

The Kratzes: Greg, Stacey, Emma, Grace, Kate and Max

Views of Paradise

Adventures in food

Greg had a really, really tiring (and sometimes trying) week last week; working tons of extra hours, fulfilling church responsibilities, etc. etc. He didn't get much sleep and, to top it all off, he had to skip his Friday lunch with his work buddies, which is a real stress-buster for him. So the kids and I decided to surprise him with ... bacones! He'd discovered them on the Web somewhere, so I looked them up and found a recipe (see it for yourself at http://recipes.wikia.com/wiki/Bacone). A few ingredients and almost five hours later, voila! A cone of thick-cut maple-smoked honey bacon filled with O'Brien-style hash browns and my special scrambled eggs, topped with country gravy and a biscuit. In other words, food heaven for Greg.


Gazing into the salty-sweet depths of a bacone, before it's filled. The cones are shaped on a foil-covered form made of metal screen (I cut up two dollar-store grease guards to make them), then covered with another screen to help the bacon keep its cone shape. Then you deep-fry 'em. Yes, they're evil from a health perspective, but boy, does evil taste good!


Gracie with her bacone (the foil was just to keep them standing up). Strangely, our bacon-loving girl seemed to resent the presence of the eggs, hash browns, gravy and biscuit and obviously preferred a PLAIN bacone to the filled ones.

Emma was a good bacone-cookin' helper who I think enjoyed the process as much as the final product. I feel that way myself, so I completely understand.


All the bacone fixin's awaiting assembly. Putting them together takes just a second; it's all the preparation that chews up the time. Luckily, all this stuff keeps well in a warm oven.


A tray of bacones. Note the mini-bacone in the middle; it's the first one I did and the bottom-most layer of bacon fell off during cooking. You'll be shocked to hear that Grace ate it. Besides that tiny one, the 11 other bacones I cooked were made of three pieces of bacon each. In other words, an AMPLE serving of bacon!

Max enjoying his bacone. Look at those little Greg-hands of his. I love them!

This is a meal that calls for — nay, that DEMANDS — salad be served with it. Call it artery triage.


A few days earlier, Max and I turned a green apple into a frog for his snack. We served it up with chocolate-caramel sauce for dipping.


The only problem was, he liked it so much he wouldn't eat the frog itself; just the off-cut pieces!


This one has nothing to do with food, but it's such a cute picture of a sleeping boy and his daddy, marred only by the hideous Chiefs pullover Greg is wearing.

A taste of Cali in SLC

I just found out through my job that a food truck is starting up (heh heh) in Salt Lake this week! When we were in L.A. I really wanted to try the trucks they have selling "Korean tacos" and other fusion foods, but we didn't have time. Now we have one of our own in Utah. They'll let people know where they are on Twitter and the Web. If you want to see pics of their food visit their in-development Web site at www.chowtruck.com. Looks good to me!

A Most Excellent E

What a treasure we have in Emma. Our big girl, who just enjoyed her first Young Women activity and who is already being sought as a babysitter, has of course grown and changed as the years have gone by. But her cheerful spirit, her native enthusiasm, her conscientiousness and quirkiness, her optimism and desire to help, have been with her since she came to us from Heavenly Father. What wonder and delight we experience, seeing the world through her eyes! What wackiness we enjoy as a result of knowing her! What joy she brings to our home!

She was partying on her actual birthday (at a New Year's Eve sleepover) so the opening of her family gifts was fairly low-key ... or as low-key as she gets!

She got a "Real Heroes" poster of Ammon, her favorite person from the Book of Mormon. This line of posters is just incredible; check them out at http://www.realheroposters.com/magento/. I'm half-tempted to put some up in my own room!

A box of riddles and practical-joke ideas. Right up her alley.

She begged and begged for this hot-chocolate gift set from Sam's Club, with "hug mugs" that you hold in both your hands while you sip from elongated rims. So I was glad when they went on deep discount right after Christmas!



Emma's entire class learned to knit hats with round looms. The 24 students ended up giving more than 100 hats to The Road Home (a homeless shelter), in addition to making several fine speci-mines for themselves, like the one Em's sporting above! Needless to say, we now own a set of looms and several bags of yarn.

I thought of writing that achievement comes naturally to Emma, but that would be downplaying the incredible effort she puts into her responsibilities, interests and passions. She worries about doing well and works hard to make sure she does the best she can. And, always, there's her great enthusiasm. Here, she's celebrating winning a literature award in the Reflections program. Emma, for WHO you are even more than what you do, we are proud of you! Happy 12th birthday, and may your future be as bright and joyful as your past!