Life, Death and Being Ok

Today I attended the funeral of a man I truly respect in the highest degree of the word. His name was Roger Kotter. He served as the First Counselor in my mission: the Idaho Boise Mission.

President Kotter was larger than life, both in physical stature and spiritual knowledge. I remember many things I learned from him in different settings. He spoke at large meetings, such as Zone Conferences and also in intimate settings with a select few members of the mission leadership, of which I was priviledged to be a part of at the time. With his booming voice and eloquence, he spoke to hearts as he bore his testimony about God and His son, Jesus Christ. He had a love for the Gospel and the happiness and promise it held in his life and the potential it had to affect positively the lives of others.

His sense of humor was a trademark. His dry wit complimented his laid back nature. But more than anything, he loved to smile. He had the kind of impish grin that one can't help but mimick when exposed to it. I recall a time President Kotter was speaking in a meeting about trials and how God is on our side. As he mentioned briefly the adversary, Satan, and how all he wants is for us to be miserable like him, he paused and said, "Satan...psh...what a loser."

To understand the impact Roger Kotter had on the lives of others, one need only to observe the lack of suffecient parking space at his funeral service or enter the chapel and witness the staggering amount of people in attendance. It is clearly evident that this man spent his life the way his Heavenly Father intended: caring for others. Easing burdens, when possible. Doing his best to make the path back to our heavenly home as easy as possible. The number of memories shared and tears shed were not a few.

Personally, Roger Kotter taught me to trust in God. With each anecdote, each quoted scripture and each encouraging word shared in a time of personal frustration, he was sure to use the opportunity to teach of God's love and of His son, Jesus Christ's comfort and mercy.

His love for life was matched only by his desire to help others. Although he will be missed in this life, I am confident he would want us to look forward with an eye not only of faith, but of optimistic comfort, knowing we all have the opportunity to see one another in the life hereafter.

So, Roger, on behalf of us all, from a man who hardly got to know you, we love you. We miss you. And realizing that we're all better people for having known you, I hope we can live the types of lives that would make you proud.

- Mike Hopkins

Lack of Lazy

My college semester ends this week, and it's the first one I've attended since my serving my two-year mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.Everything is wrapping up the way it always does; friends are leaving for home, apartments are being cleaned and the last few episodes of TV series are being crammed in. Finals are all but over - I have one at two o'clock this afternoon and then I'm finished - and there's an air of calm on campus. The rush of finals week has ended. Sighs are a little bit deeper and smiles are a little bit broader.

 I've noticed something about myself, however. Something that I caught a glimmer of over Thanksgiving break. I realized that I'm not the kind of person who gets excited for the end of things. I love beginnings. Not to say I'm the type of person who starts things and never finishes, because I'm not. But, to me, there's something about starting new that's really cathartic. Grades are reset to zero, and it can only get better. New friendships are forged with classmates. There are things to do, places to go and people to see.

 Over Thanksgiving, I was bored. Maybe bored isn't the right word, because the family I stayed with in Meridian was a blast. I think a better word would be antsy. Why was I so anxious? My teachers had all slammed us with homework prior to the break so that we wouldn't have to do any while we were gone. I thought I would really appreciate this. But then, there I was, day one of Thanksgiving break, checking i-Learn, eyes frantically scanning for an assignment to complete. I feel like I've forgotten the art of being lazy.

 Maybe it has something to do with my laid-back nature. I don't run races, I run just to run. I don't play games to win as much as I play to have fun (rhyme unintended). That doesn't mean I don't have a competitive Mike living inside me, I definitely do. But it really only comes out on my academic and career side. As for the rest of life, I'm not too concerned about being first or the best or the fastest. Point is this: I'm excited for break, but really I'm only excited to see my family and friends and get presents - at least I'm honest. But secretly, I'm really excited to start next semester and have classes and work and deadlines, because I'm pretty much useless if I don't have something to do.

 You know what though?

 That's a flaw I'm ok with.


 - Mike


 Maintain Consciousness - Relient K

I Believe in Paying for the Girl

I Believe in Paying for the Girl

As a guy, there’s something inherently built into my brain that I should pay for the woman when we go out somewhere. Some people may say that chivalry is dead and women have equal rights and should be independent and other things to discourage this from happening. To that I say, with a resounding resolve, “Phooey!” (Ladies, please note my “phooey” is directed towards the discouragement of my paying, not your equal rights. Please, no hate mail.)

I grew up in a family with a sister and all girl cousins. Just a dad, a handful of uncles and a pair of grandpas; no brothers, no boy cousins. I was taught to treat women like queens. My father made it very clear how important mom was to him and didn’t tolerate disrespect towards her. I noticed this from an early age and took note. Women are special. They’re important and they deserve the best we men have to offer because, let’s face it fellas, the best we have to offer is still barely on par with their mediocre.

So, because of this predominantly estrogenic upbringing, when I start dating a girl, there a certain privileges I believe that she should be entitled to expect. Things like me holding the door, telling her how cute she looks, embarrassing her in public without realizing it, pretending I’ve never heard of that band before, etc. One of those expectations, I feel, is that she should know that I want to pay for her. There was a key word in that last phrase: want. I want to do this, folks.

Yes, I’ve worked hard for this money. Yes, that salmon costs about $3 too much. Yes, I could buy the box set of Saving Private Ryan with what I just spent on dessert. But you know what? That’s not the point. The point is, she belongs to me now. Not in some chauvinistic ownership sense where she is now mine to control and she has to submit to me. Far from it. She belongs to me in the way that she can feel secure in knowing that I’ll do the best I can to take care of her. Call me a romantic if you want; it’s probably accurate.

It’s odd though, because I’m the kind of guy that most would call a “stiff.” I hate paying for things. I’m hopeless. If there’s extra pennies to be saved, I pinch them.

What? A medium fry costs ten cents more now? I’ll pass.

Really? One ply toilet paper is a dollar cheaper? Grab three.

However, there’s some sort of synapse in my brain the starts firing when there’s a girl involved. All of a sudden, I might as well just be throwing fistfuls of bills at them – respectfully, of course. I have a hard time spending more than $5 on a meal for myself. I practically live off cold cereal, PB&J and frozen dinners. But the minute my girl is craving fondue, I’m essentially spearing twenty dollar bills and dunking them in hot cheese.

I want to make one thing clear here. I’m not doing this to impress anyone. I’m not doing it because I expect her to pay me back later, physically or otherwise. I do it because I know it’s the right thing to do. I was taught by practically everyone in my family except my cats to treat a girl like she’s a million dollars, even if you end up paying that much to do so. That’s because I feel it is a God-given responsibility for us men to let women know how much we think they’re worth. And let me tell you something, it’s not enough just to take them somewhere. An evening at Buffalo Wild Wings where you pay more attention to the Packer’s defense than what the lady you’re with has to say does not count. It would mean more to her to have meaningful conversation over a bowl of Lucky Charms at your apartment. Don’t believe me? Try it.

Now, I hope I’ve been clear. I believe in paying for the girl. I DON’T believe in buying your way into a relationship, nor do I condone trying to impress your lady friends with how much money you have. That’s irrelevant. Trust me, as of right now, I hardly pull in four figures a year. What I believe in is keeping chivalry alive. As a man, I feel it’s my job to make the girl I’m with feel like she is the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me. And there’s truth in that, isn’t there, guys? Women do something for us that we can’t really get any other way. Something about their fingers finding yours when you’re just sitting there watching TV or the way they run their hand through your hair when you’re having a frustrating day. They are the essence of art and beauty and everything worth living for in this world.

If anything, we should be eager for the chance to spend a few bucks on them.

We owe them.

- Mike

You Can Do Better Than Me - Death Cab For Cutie

http://thisibelieve.org/

Being Happy

I'd highly recommend it.

- Mike

Happy - Never Shout Never

Hap Ha Birt Da

Halfy Birthday to me!




Six months ago, I turned 21 and in six months I will be 22. (Yes, I know, my math skills are impeccable) Half birthdays are always interesting because they're like half the birthday with 0% of the fun. Really, it's more for me to have something to tell people about all day. Also good for having a reason to post on the blog in mid-November.

Here are some of the things I've done with the 6 months I've had of being 21:

- Become an uncle! (See earlier posts)
- Finished my mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints
- Started back to college
- Bought a ukulele
- Got my appendix removed
- Grew a beard
- Read the whole New Testament
- Got a smartphone
- Saw Death Cab for Cutie
- Wrote a new song
- Rode a train
- Threw a snowball
- Been at the beach for approx. a tenth of the time
- Opened a bank account
- Subscribed to Inc. and Spin magazines
- Grew out my hair
- Joined another band
- Bummed around Charlotte for a few days
- Got all A's in college (so far...)
- Bought three new pairs of shoes
- Made new friends
- Threw up
- Played in a chess tournament
- Completed my first online class
- Grew a handlebar mustache

I'm sure there are some things I missed, but you get the point. I actually didn't realize how many things I'd done in the past sixth months. Making this list was kind of cool. I'd highly encourage you to do the same if you ever feel like life is boring. It's not as lame as you'd think.


- Mike


Zebra - Beach House