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Feature Fall 2008 Winter 2013
Throughout my life I’ve spent countless summer weekends at my parents’ cabin in the Uinta Mountains, where in the early days there was no electricity or indoor plumbing and almost every evening was spent playing games around the kitchen table until the generator would run out of gas.
Cameras flashed as reporters jostled for position. This was the biggest story of the year: Kenneth Lay was surrendering to the FBI. Slapped with a slew of charges alleging he falsified statements to hide billions in losses, Lay’s arrest marked the end of Enron’s empire.
Last August I was at a landfill site in So Paulo, Brazil. It had been a dump where people sorted through garbage looking for valuable items so they could put food on their tables.
With the costs of college increasing faster than other goods and services in the economy, it isn’t any wonder that studies show parents are more concerned about saving for their children’s college expenses than for their own retirements. But armed with information and good planning, there’s no need for parents to panic.
When three women picked up their lunch bill of about $44 at a local Houston restaurant, they had no idea it would end up costing them more than $2,500. These women have since accused a waitress of stealing their credit card numbers and going on a spending spree—buying a computer desk, a forty-two-inch LCD TV, and video games with the stolen numbers.
As BYU students returned to campus on 2 September, they had the chance to catch up on one another’s adventures, compare summer jobs, and explore the classrooms and corridors of the newly completed Tanner Building Addition.
Every member of the working world seems to have a horror story about an interview gone wrong, where the interviewer performed in a less-than-sterling manner. Maybe it was a clueless interviewer who didn’t bother to read your résumé or an overbearing windbag who didn’t let you get a word in edgewise. Then there’s the oblivious interviewer who doesn’t remember your name or the baggy-eyed boss who can’t stifle a yawn while asking about you. In more serious cases, perhaps the interviewer strays off into either unethical or illegal territory.
In 1988 I was with my brothers and sisters when the conversation drifted to our father, who had passed away many years earlier. We shared our memories of Dad: his ways of doing things, his favorite sayings, our fishing trips where all he did was bait hooks, and so forth.