Give Us This Day Our Daily Bread

I don't have a minute to compose my thoughts but I cannot let the death of Norman Borlaug go unmentioned here. The present political climate demonstrates to me how desperate our society is for modern heroes: men of peace, honor and action. Borlaug was one such man. His intelligence and passion changed the world. Literally. Here's a well-done obituary by Justin Gillis. Tell your kids about him.

I Got Your Oedipus Complex Right Here

Like most little girls, my daughters went through the princess stage. They would dress up in fluffy gowns, drench themselves in costume jewelry, don long white gloves, brush glitter on their cheeks and prance around the house speaking to me in a surprisingly accurate British accent. I dutifully fetched them tea and ladyfingers, tossed the rubbish at party's end, formally announced ballroom entrances and fed the royal steed. Yet, I was never overly-charmed by this pretend play. (It's possible I never really embraced princess-play because, on it's face, it is not pretend. Keith and I cook, clean, entertain, transport and basically grant their every wish, so what is it about princess life that my children envy?) I was much more enthusiastic when the girls began dressing up and pretending to be veterinarians, teachers, cowgirls, pilots, even performers. It is clear to me that I prefer they dress up as someone with a skill or function, even if they are pretending to be Hannah-Swift-Pickler. And even today when I see little girls twirling down the aisle at the grocery store or skipping through the park wearing their pink princess dress-ups, I am not enchanted.

But my son! This is where my negative attitude regarding gender-stereotypical play turns on itself. Over the past few months Eli has amassed a collection of dress-up clothes including a knight, policeman, fireman, Batman, Superman, and cowboy. Whenever he dresses up and begins role-playing, I am overwhelmed with adoration. My heart leaps into my throat every time Eli, sword and shield in hand, marches in the room to announce he has come to save me from the dragon. I stop whatever I am doing and merrily let him whisk me away to safety (which is usually the cave under the kitchen table). I absolutely love it when the Dark Knight tells me he will "pwotect" me. And despite the fact that our Superman is scared to death of spiders, he will stand between any spider and me, repeating over and over that he is "super-super-strong" and I should not be frightened. I desperately want to freeze for eternity the vision of Eli darting through the house, black cape flowing, various tools tucked into his belt, announcing that he will protect us from villains old and new. Even as I write, the picture of him catches my breath in my throat. I adore this make-believe role playing. I love the heroic instinct and I relish every moment watching Eli pretend to be gallant, brave, and strong.

So, why is princess play tedious to me while knight-in-shining armor trips my heart? Perhaps because imagining princess characteristics in teens or adults is repulsive--elitist, entitled, spoiled. Even with a great British accent, it is unsavory. Yet, the heroic attributes of a knight or superhero are exactly what I want to teach my son about manhood--strength, loyalty, courage. These are appealing attributes not only in make-believe.

Then again, I might still be playing princess myself and simply enjoying the thought of being rescued by my little knight!

Good Times at the Track

Inspired by Keith's phenomenal weekend performance (1:37:16 half-marathon, y'all!) I sashayed up to the USU track for my regular Monday speed workout. The field showed obvious remnants of a weekend track meet: fresh sand in the pits, neatly stacked hurdles, blue foam fingers littering the bleachers... and along the north end there was a uniform row of shiny port-a-lets conveniently placed for the collegiate athletes. I jogged a pleasant warm-up mile and could sense the lingering excitement and energy of a recent event. I also relished in the hot sun beating down on me. Happily I had the track all to myself. (Once I start the speed work, I feel much less conspicuous dry-heaving over the steeple-chase bar if no one else is around to witness.)

I was about half way through my workout when a large truck towing a flatbed trailer pulled into the gate and lumbered toward the northern end of the track. As I rounded the bend I read the signature: Nature's Call--We "go" wherever you "go." Due to intent focus on my watch and a lack of oxygen, it didn't dawn on me until the smell smacked me. I was sprinting my guts out and sucking wind while these port-a-lets were being hoisted up on the flatbed and their inner-contents vacuumed into a truck bed tank. The inner-contents being "nervous athlete output" that had stewed and baked in the ground for the last 72 hours. I didn't know what to do. I was already in the middle of my carefully-designed workout and I didn't want to cut it short. But I was sprinting through the most wretched, disgusting, foul, stench I had ever encountered. (And remember, I changed Eli's diapers for nearly two years!) So, I ran my remaining 1200, 800 and 400 meters in the fashion of a swimmer; I would take a gigantic, lung-filled-to-capacity, breath and haul it as hard and fast as I could without inhaling again. And wouldn't you know it, my times were actually my fastest yet. But that is not to say it was worth it. I have brushed my teeth twice, shampooed my hair three times and I may have to burn my running tank.

(If you think this post is even remotely funny, which I do not, you will enjoy this witty British film. I'm looking at you, Sherri!)

And although I do not like to use my blog as a medium for publicly expressing my love or for bragging about my family (well, flagrant bragging), I simply cannot miss this opportunity to tell Keith how proud I am of him. You spanked the Ogden half and I couldn't be more awed by your hard work, your resolute mind, and your gorgeous legs. Bien fait, mon cheri!

Meeting John Calvin's Approval

Driving home from church meeting today Eli said, "May I go play with Khyson?" I said, "No, not today." Eli proudly acknowledged, "Oh yea, Sundays are not for fun."

A Video Is Worth A Million Bajillion Words

I'll let the innumeracy thing rest after this but you have got to see these two clips. They are much clearer than anything I wrote below.

Enjoy!

How Many Millions are in a Trillion? from Econ4U on Vimeo.

Power to the Proletariat

Oh, Keith is not going to like that title.

I just listened to a university statistics professor give a brilliant lecture on innumeracy in the United States and now I’m all fired up. He talked about Americans inability to comprehend large numbers, even in ordinary life settings. One of his examples was salary discrepancies. We all know some careers make a lot of money and we understand other job choices reap smaller financial reward. Yet, have you ever crunched the numbers and considered how far apart these numbers really are? Take professional athletes for example. According to Sports Illustrated “The Fortunate 50”,Tiger Woods earned $128,000,000 in 2008. Contrast that with numbers from the Chronicle of Higher Education which reports that the average associate professor at a baccalaureate university earns $87,000 per year. What do those few extra zeros really mean? It means that the average college professor would have to work 1,471 years to earn what Tiger Woods earned in one year. One thousand, four hundred, seventy-one years! Now I concede that Tiger Woods is a unique situation in professional sports. He earns more than twice that of the #2 ranked top-earning athlete (Phil Mickelson, by the way). So, let’s drop down a few notches to the #6 earning athlete, Alex Rodriguez. A Rod earned $35,000,000 in 2008. Your average medical oncologist earnings max out at an average of $455,000 per year. So today, in this country, A Rod will earn in one year what it takes a doctor fighting cancer 77 years to earn. It is feasible that an oncologist would work his entire life and not earn what Rodriguez earned in 2008 alone. And how about public school teachers? In Utah, the average school teacher with a master’s degree earns $32,000 per year (let's all groan together). Dale Earnhardt Jr earned $27,000,000. A Utah school teacher would have to work 844 years to earn Junior’s 2008 paycheck. To review:

Tiger Woods 1 year earning = University professor 1,471 years work
Alex Rodriguez 1 year earning = Medical oncologist 77 years work
Dale Earnhardt Jr 1 year earning = Utah school teacher 844 years work

Happily pro-athletes are not the only benefactors of our pay-scale lunacy. Forbes.com ranks highest paid CEOs. Mark Papa of EOG Resources was compensated $90,000,000 in 2008. It would take your average lawyer 796 years to achieve that single amount, an oncologist, 198 years.

Now I fully support the concept of giving the people what they want and charging what you can for it. I understand that NASCAR, the Superbowl, and the World Series are part of what makes America great. But I wonder if the dude screaming insults at Jeff Gordon realizes just how much more money that boy pulls than the local EMT or cancer researcher. Do we really think that Ben Roethlisberger should earn $25,000,000 in one year when your city fireman, who would risk his life for you, earns roughly $50,000. (It will take the fireman 500 years to earn $25,000,000.) As a people, we gotta get our priorities back in order.

Another example of innumeracy involves wealthy philanthropists.

Take the Walton family (founders and owners of Walmart) for example. They have received accolades for contributing over $1,400,000,000 (that's 1.4 billion dollars!) to various educational charities between 2003-2007. This sounds impressive, worthy of salutations, glory, laud and honor until you consider their actual net worth of $82,500,000,000 (that's 82.5 billion dollars!). In reality, their donation of 1.4 million dollars is less than 2% of their net worth. That is equivalent to the city fireman donating $825 to charity over the course of 4 years, or $206 per year. Not sure a parade is warranted at 2% contribution levels.

Next time I hear sports commentators gushing over a charitable act by LeBron James ($40,000,000 per annum) or some CNN reporter praising Ray Irani of Occidental Petroleum ($223,000,000 in 2009) for building a school in Beirut, I’m going to throw my shoe at the television set. Numerically speaking, they are being applauded for dropping a nickel in the March of Dimes canister.

Standards of Measurement

This afternoon Eli and I were playing doctor. (I received a number of "shocks" for my bandaged foot. He simply cannot retain the term "shot.") But the most insightful part was when Eli took my temperature and announced, "Your temperature is eight miles per week."

It's possible Keith and I are officially runners.

What Happened Here?

Sunday morning I am walking through the 'Shoppes of Paradise Key' in Destin, Florida with my Auburn running friends. We are meandering in and out of stores: Coach Factory, Williams-Sonoma, Kenneth Cole NY, and my personal favorite, the Godiva Chocolatier. As our group strolls past the Abercrombie & Fitch storefront I glance at the reflection in the tall display windows and notice an elderly woman is walking amidst our group. She's wearing a velvet lounge suit, turquoise turtle neck, black Chaco sandals, white cotton socks, a tight little bun and has a slight limp. I take a couple more steps before it dawns on me--THAT WAS MY REFLECTION IN THE WINDOW. What happened here?

• Abercrombie & Fitch minus 4h It's 7am and my friends and I are huddled together trying to conserve heat at the starting line of the Seaside Florida Half-Marathon. I flew all the way from wintry northern Utah to participate in this beach-side event, happily expecting to return home with a little tan and three months worth of vitamin D. Instead I was blasted with temperatures in the 30s accompanied by winds up to 35 miles per hour. Before the race I was scrounging around the rental house for gloves, ear muffs, and something, anything, to shield my face from the bitter cold. (Where's Global Warming when you need it?) Despite the biting cold and hurricane warnings, my friends and I decided to run the race. And so, the first two hours of my morning were spent freezing my buns off while running a distance I had not adequately trained for. (My trip to Florida was really about the vitamin D.)

• Abercrombie & Fitch minus 2h It's 9am and I just finished the half-marathon. I am so cold and tired that I decide to abandon my running team for a much needed warm shower. I shuffle the half mile back to our rental house and clumsily strip off my many layers of running clothes. My fingers are still frozen stiff so this is not easy. My legs are exhausted, my lips are blue, and I can't stop my teeth from chattering. I turn on the shower and as soon as I see steam rising from behind the glass, I hop in. The rest is something of a blur because I'm not good with blood but somehow the glass door slips out of the track and the door falls into the tub. With frozen and slippery-wet hands I somehow manage to catch the shower door, but only in time to watch the other sliding door follow suit and crash sideways into the tub. The top corner slices an inch deep into the drywall and the bottom corner slams down onto the top of my foot. I promptly rid my hands of door number one and gently dislodge the other door from the wall and my foot. I look over at the huge gouge in the wall and then down at the gaping slice in the top of my foot and realize I'm in serious trouble. We are not going to get our security deposit back! Then, as the blood begins to leak out of my foot, I remember that I am not good with blood. I begin to feel lightheaded and I can tell I'm going to pass out; pass out in a tub already full of glass doors and blood. I woozily scramble over the side of the tub and try to get my wits about me. ...I won't go into any more detail because all it does is humiliate me more, but in a nutshell, I was exhausted, cold, wet, bleeding profusely and very much not dressed.

• Abercrombie & Fitch minus 1h Luckily for me, two of my running friends are nurses and when they entered the rental house they answered my pitiful cry; "I've fallen and I can't get up." (Sticking with the old lady motif here.) I was adequately bandaged and I feebly hobbled into my room so I could get some warm clothes on. Because I was in Florida! my suitcase was full of brightly colored shorts, capris, T-shirts and sandals. I had been warned that the beach cooled down considerably at night so at last minute I had thrown in a turtle neck and lounge suit. I knew the outfit didn't suit me but I figured I'd only be wearing it at night, when it was dark. I was still bone-cold from the race so I put on the turtle neck and lounge suit along with some thick white cotton socks. Because I still felt quite weak I did not feel inclined to balance on one foot in front of a mirror in order to blow out and curl my hair. So, I twisted it up into an easy bun.

• Abercrombie & Fitch minus 30 mins Despite my bloody, swollen, throbbing foot, I did not want to miss out on a social outing with my friends (I am who I am) so a few minutes later when everyone decided it would be fun to go peruse the shops in Destin, I grabbed my Chacos, loosened the straps as far as I could and limped out to the car. It never occurred to me to glance in a mirror and evaluate my overall appearance. In hind sight...
  

• Abercrombie and Fitch Once I realized that the old lady in the reflection was me, I started to laugh. I casually joked to my running companions that I looked like an old lady. No one contradicted me. They simply smiled and said, "You've had a rough morning." Needless to say, that took the chuckle right out of me.

I brought home my Chacos. The remainder of that outfit was left in a dumpster behind our Seaside rental property. It really was a rough morning.

Bug Tag

I've been tagged and I'm always looking for an excuse to complain so here you go:

Ten Things that Bug Me:

(In a particular order)

(1) Sniffing Dogs: why do pet owners let their dogs romp up to complete strangers and sniff their crotch. Please, someone, tell me why this is acceptable in our culture. It's gross and rude and invasive. Some of you are thinking, "but all dogs sniff, it's what they do." Not so! My neighbor's dog never sniffs and he checks me out daily. Good dog, Jeffrey.
(2) Bluetooth Phones: unless you're securing the premises for Obama's pending arrival or being talked through an emergency tracheotomy, I'm betting the conversation can wait. People walking around shouting one side of a conversation (and always a boring one, at that) into a crowd of people is just inappropriate social behavior. So annoying!
(3) The Five Day Workweek: if we eliminate Facebook and Youtube from office computers, don't you think we could get the national work week down to four days.
(4) Brushing the Kids Teeth: too much pressure to do it just as the dentist advises. It makes me anxious every night.
(5) Logan Radio: I don't do Country so I'm stuck with a Raffi cd or silence. I choose silence.
(6) Facebook: it's out of control at my house. And none of my old boyfriends will chat with me.
(7) Eli Picking His Nose: someone tell me how to make it stop.
(8) Mornings: since when does elementary school have to start so dang early? We're trying to stay up until 3 AM over here.
(9) Not-My-Problem Parents: moms who honestly expect public school to teach, mold, and inspire their children. Those over-worked and underpaid teachers are responsible for the 3 R's, folks, and that's it. The rest is on you.
(10) Britney Spears New Album: haven't heard it yet. Hate it!

On this happy note, I tag Keith, Brittney, Jandee, Dustin and the other Big J. Have at it!

MP3 Killed the Radio Star

I figured you were dying to know which podcasts I referenced in the last blog list so, just for you, another list... with bullets!

• Slate Political Gabfest The hosting trio could not be more liberal (they are socialist, really) but I love to hear what John Dickerson, David Plotz and Emily Bazelon have to say about current political issues. They provide me an educated peek into what the "other side" is thinking and I believe they are truly trying to understand the Republican/Democrat debate. Despite our differing views on government and the players therein, I benefit from their assessments. Besides, their on air banter really makes me laugh.
  

• Intelligence Squared Don't be turned off by its hyper-pretentious name. Intelligence Squared is a series of Oxford-style debates which are consistently witty, provocative and informative. Their stated purpose is to "raise the level of public discourse on our most challenging issues." Each debate features speakers who are irrefutably the most authoritative and informed advocates for both sides of each issue. I learn something new every time and frequently find my opinions challenged, if not changed altogether. This forum gives me the chance to hear arguments from some of the smartest people on the planet.
  

• This American Life The old and ever popular NPR broadcast which provides a glimpse into the everyday life of average Americans. Over time it maintains a relatively good balance between the comedic and the solemn elements of life in the United States. This fall they spent a great deal of airtime trying to explain and demystify the economic crisis for us laypeople. I learned a great deal about Wall Street (which I have promptly forgotten). And I must confess, for more than a few months, I harbored an innocent crush on Ira Glass. He's just so sweet and squeaky, and genuinely shocked and confused by injustice. On air you can hear he wants to be objective, even tough at times, but in the end, his soft melt-away inside gives him away. Sweet Ira.

• Common Sense with Dan Carlin Dan is the perfect follow-up to Ira Glass. He's loud, fast-talking, and brutally funny. He's a pragmatist with a candid speech pattern that is sometimes painful but mostly refreshing. He looks at the events shaping our world through a lens unique to him due to his strong history background. His podcasts are drenched in historical references and by historical, I mean references back to Constantine, Charlemagne, and Alexander the Great. Dan knows his world history and he uses it to critique American politics in a way that I've never considered before. But, perhaps what I appreciate most about Dan is his commitment to providing solutions and not just complaints. So many political pundits critique and whine and gripe but never present a viable solution. Dan comes up with the most brilliant solutions to cure many of our modern ills. Wish he were broadcasting from the White House rather than the airport runway in Oregon.

I also listen to an assortment of scientific podcasts (Science Talk, How Stuff Works, This Week in Science) but only because Keith generously screens them and pulls the ones he knows I will find intriguing. I'm not that interested in astronomical advancements or multivariable calculus but when they start talking about hybrid cars 0r memory-enhancing drugs, I'm all ears.

Okay, now it's time to reciprocate. I have another marathon scheduled for fall 2009 so if you have any podcast suggestions, I'd love a few new running companions.
Cheers!

Some Stuff I Wasn't Paid to Endorse

2008 brought so many great things that I'm recording a list of my favorite discoveries (or rediscoveries) below:

• 30 Rock I have been a fan of Tina Fey ever since she began co-hosting Weekend Update with Jimmy Fallon on SNL years ago. But she has taken her talent for brilliant writing and comedic acting to a new level with 30 Rock. And you'd be hard-pressed to find a person more averse to Alec Baldwin than me, but his portrayal of Jack Donaghy is, without doubt, the funniest depiction of a rich, elitist, capitalist that I have ever seen. I look forward to this show every week.
• The New Adventures of Old Christine I love Julia Louis-Dreyfus. Love her so much I faithfully tuned in to "Watching Ellie" (2002) despite its weak plot and redundant story line. But Julia has nailed it this time in New Adventures; I smile just thinking about it. Every week she provides lines like, "Racist? Racist? I'm not a racist. I drive a Prius for Heaven's sake!" And as if Julia's comedy wasn't enough, Wanda Sykes co-stars and can match her laugh for laugh.
  
• Lime I've always been a lemon zest kind of girl. This year, for reasons I don't recall, I started using lime where I would normally use lemons, and the change is delightful!
• Long Hair I grew up associating long hair on men with chewing tobacco and crude language. I hung to that association until July when I looked at my husband and realized it had been six months since I trimmed his hair, and he looked pretty, pretty, pretty good (to be said in the fashion of Larry David on "Curb Your Enthusiasm"). We decided to give it another few months, just to see if his language digressed or his hankering for chew increased and I was pleasantly surprised to find neither occurred. Not only that, he looked even cuter three months later. So, here I sit, 15 years too late to appreciate Brad Pitt's flowing locks in Legends of the Fall. I have found Keith's new look so winsome that I am now letting Eli's hair grow.
• Trail Running Last spring the other Big J introduced me to the most beautiful and challenging trail runs I've ever traversed. From April till November I ran up Logan Canyon at least twice a week and bemoaned every city-paved run in between. There is nothing quite as exhilarating as climbing hills at top speed and then exploding down the other side. And, I have never been one to stop needlessly during a run but this summer there were runs when the sun hit the canyon below or the leaves were colored just so that I had to stop and take in the vision of it all. Running trails has become, for me, a spiritual experience as much as a physical one. If not for the Logan River, Green Canyon and Crimson Trails, I would never have survived those long summer miles without my Auburn crew.
• Podcasts As just mentioned, I left my beloved running partners in Auburn so I had to make new friends. In the likeness of a young child with "imaginary friends," my new running partners are radio talk show hosts and podcast authors. It's pathetic, really, but I love my podcasts. I love them so much I think I will dedicate a separate blog post to them in a minute.
• Blogging Enough said.
• Utah Culture I'm not going to lie to you; I was anxious about moving back to Utah. After ten years east of the Rockies, I was not quite ready to relocate to my home state. Somehow I had envisioned that Utah=Mormons=Monotony. That I, being a Mormon myself, would be surrounded by people just like me and that would be most tiresome. Turns out, I was wrong. Providence is a fantastic little town. It's true, LDS culture dominates but how can I complain when the domineering philosophy promotes self-reliance, honesty, service, health and, if you look for it, humor. I am continually impressed by how skilled and talented the folks are around here--music, art, athletics, cooking, carpentry, gardening, landscaping and homemaking. Now this is not to say I don't roll my eyes from time to time at the surprising assumptions some locals make, but all in all, this is an excellent town and I think I'm gonna like it here. (As long as I'm discussing LDS culture, I might note that another of my favorite discoveries for 2008 is the Sons of Provo soundtrack. That is what makes the outermost LDS culture palpable--self deprecation and mockery. Thanks, Curt!)
  

And, last, but certainly not least,

• Keith It's true, in the last year Keith has stomped me at racquetball, tennis, chess, Trivial Pursuit, and all-you-can-eat-steak challenges, but aside from those few things, he has played the perfect husband. I married this boy for a whole host of reasons that, in hindsight, were relatively shallow and rash. (He was just so dang cute!) But every year since I have come to adore and appreciate him more. Not one of the aforementioned discoveries would have been exciting without him. (Except maybe the lime.) For the twelfth year in a row, Keith is what made 2008 truly great!

Deus Caritas Est

Earlier this month Michal was baptized as a member of our church. We decided it would be extra special to travel to SLC so she could be baptized with her cousin, who had also decided to be baptized. While sitting quietly on the pew, Michal leaned over to me and whispered, "You know, it's weird to think that I rode down to Salt Lake as Michal Gibson but I'll drive home a Christian." For her, this symbolic plunge will change who she is, how she views the world, and how she will behave toward other people. And this, for the rest of her life. Wednesday she told me, "I can feel the Holy Ghost telling me to share with Eli, " and she said today, "Now that I'm baptized, I'm trying not to get mad at Sam." Michal is becoming a better person; she's trying harder to be Christ-like.

How can I not contrast this with the week's reports of escalating violence in the middle east. I haven't read the Qur'an and I'm no expert on the Torah, (I have enough knowledge of the Old Testament to be sympathetic, though not benign to the subject matter) but I know that as canonized religious texts, they both claim to lead souls to God/Allah. Even as such, they remain subject to individual interpretation. Beautifully and essentially so. How is it that the loudest voices and the strongest arms interpret the message to be one of violence and death? Why don't the consummate followers of the Qur'an and Torah stand up to these manipulators of faith? No book of a Heavenly source would inspire a mother to strap a bomb to her 12-year-old son and send him out to blow up a children's school bus. Even if you want to discount religiosity in this, secular sensibility and human decency dictate killing one's child is horrific.

I know this post is a juvenile over-simplification of the middle eastern conflict. But I could not resist making note of the flagrant juxtaposition between my daughter's new sense of faith, which propels her to love and serve, and another child's new sense of faith, which propels hand grenades.

Entropa

When I found this little nugget of news, I immediately called dibs before Keith could blog about it. There is a fantastic story going around about an "art hoax" in Europe. The European Union received a huge new mosaic to be placed outside the European Council Building in Brussels, where EU leaders hold their summits. The massive mosaic was unveiled this week and, it turns out, the whole thing is a gigantic joke on the countries of the EU. They've already installed this thing so it's up there (for now, anyway).

The mosaic was intended to be a tribute to the countries in the EU. It was created by Czech artist, David Cerny, and here's how audacious this dude is:

• Bulgaria is depicted as a rudimentary toilet.
• France is emblazened with the word GREVE! (French for strike), a reference to its frequent industrial disputes.
  
• Germany is a series of crisp highways in the shape of a swastika.
• Luxembourg is represented as a lump of gold, on sale to the highest bidder.
• Lithuanians are urinating on Russia.

So, at the ceremonial unveiling, what did Cerny have to say? "We knew the truth would come out. But before that we wanted to find out if Europe was able to laugh at itself." I can't speak for Europe, but I'm dying of laughter over here. It's painfully rare to find an artist with a good sense of humor. Well, Cerny may not be so much funny as he is sardonic. Still I appreciate this refreshingly comical tidbit from the other side of the ocean, you know, the side with the Louvre.

You can see pictures and read more about the mosaic here.