Growing Up Mormon - Ignorance About Alcohol

**Warning: explicit content**

Growing up Mormon for me meant that I was never exposed to certain Word of Wisdom no-nos such as coffee, tobacco, or alcohol. In fact, I've still never learned how to brew a cup of coffee, even though we've always owned a coffee maker and have a can of coffee in the freezer that's who-knows-HOW-old. I was exposed to smoking, because my fourth grade best friend's mom smoked. I always knew she needed to hear how God didn't want her to do this, but I never worked up the nerve to tell her so.

Alcohol...now there was the vice that I knew was common among my peers, but I never stayed at parties where there was drinking, nor had I known anyone who drank in front of me. This is, in my opinion, a factor to growing up Mormon that is detrimental to anybody who wants to function normally within society. I am not talking about learning how to drink and hold your liquor in a party setting. . .

I'm talking about having a clue at all.

It was about a week before I was scheduled to leave for Austria to be an exchange student for a year. My best friend Lisa and I had gone out to dinner at our favorite Chinese restaurant, and were driving around, when we met up with some of my coworkers who were having a party. Someone had rented a room in one of those motels that has doors leading directly outside, and it was obviously cheap and ratty, but who cares? It was a party. One of my coworkers, Cho, had approached me when we arrived, and we started talking, soon discovering we had some things in common.

He didn't drink, and neither did I. He was born to parents from Laos, and my dad at the time was serving as high counselor to the Laotian branch in town. We talked a bit about the time I babysat with my brother at an old folk's home run by some Laotian people (we'd watch the old folks so the people could attend church with my dad). Then we started talking about art, and before I knew it we were out by his car, and he was showing me his paintings in his trunk.

Lisa thought this was a perfect time to say she wanted to leave. But I was enjoying the obvious fact that Cho liked me, and I wasn't ready to leave. Besides, Cho said he'd be happy to take me home. Lisa tried to convince me not to stay, but I didn't listen...I mean, these were my co-workers, and Cho was so nice, and besides, he liked me. I could tell she was upset with me as she got in her car and drove away.

Cho and I returned to the hotel room, only to find that the others had all left except Dan, the creepy somewhat-older coworker we worked with, whose social skills were severely hindered by his extreme brain power and his penchant for talking a bit too close for comfort. He would get right in your fact to talk to you without blinking once. Creepy.

One time, Dan caught me in the parking lot as I was headed next door to the Taco Bell my brother worked at - it was my lunch break and Dan's as well. He asked if he could join me, and I had no experience saying no or being rude, so I said he could.

We ate and he kept staring hard at me, and I avoided his eyes as much as possible. I don't think I ever ate that fast before. As we were leaving, he asked me if I'd go for a walk with him. I really, really didn't want to, but didn't know how to tell him no, so I halfheartedly agreed. I decided I could steer our walk toward the church building nearby, and I'd be safe. Nothing bad can happen near the Lord's House, can it?? He took hold of my hand halfway there, and I didn't have a clue how to gracefully extricate mine from his, so I chatted to hide my discomfort. This was new and unchartered territory for me. I had barely ever even gone on a date. Was he thinking this walk was a date??

We got to the church building and I walked into the park at the church where the playground/picnic area was. We sat down in the grass, and suddenly Dan knelt in front of me, and said (too close to my face), "I have really enjoyed this walk with you. I'd very much like to kiss you now."

I remember his words exactly because he said them in such a creepy deadpan voice and in such an odd way, that the words seared themselves in my brain forever. I can still hear his voice in my mind right now as I write about it. I jumped up and said, "No, thanks! We'd better get back to work now!" and walked fast toward Albertsons. I avoided him like the plague after that.

So Cho and I were in the hotel room with Dan, who was sitting on one of the two beds, watching TV and drinking whiskey straight from the bottle. We sat down on the other bed, and continued talking to each other. Before long, we noticed Dan was sleeping, so we started kissing. I worried that Dan would wake up, but then I remembered how he'd been drinking, so he must be passed out! It was as good as if we were alone!

I don't know if it was the fact that I was going to be far away in Europe shortly, or the fact that I'd been curious about the male anatomy ever since my human anatomy class in 10th grade when I had to give an oral report (no pun intended) on the penis, or if it was the fact that I knew I could repent afterward. . .but before I knew it, we were lying down making out and his pants were unzipped and his penis was right there, in my hand, in all its naked glory. I couldn't believe how hot and hard it was, but silky soft all at the same time! I explored him with feather-light touches and even leaned in to kiss the tip once. This was my first experience with heavy petting, and his first time too. The funny thing was, I wouldn't allow him to touch me anywhere he shouldn't, because somehow I felt it would be easier to repent later if I didn't allow someone else to touch me.

He took me home soon thereafter, and Dan was still "sleeping" on the other bed when we quietly left. I discovered a few days later that my ideas about alcohol and the effect it has on people were totally wrong, when a different co-worker who wasn't at the party approached me at work and told me that there was a wicked rumor circulating about me, and he wanted to know if it was true. This was a co-worker who was much older than me, I think by 15 years, whom really liked me. I asked him what he'd heard, and he described quite well what Cho and I had done. I laughed an innocent laugh and said, "Come on! You know me! Would you actually believe a story like that about me? Really??" I got him to admit whom he had heard that from, and sure enough, it was Dan. Fortunately, I was able to use Dan's creepiness to my advantage.

"Who would you believe more? Me, or Dan? I mean, this is Sister Mary Lisa we're talking about here!"

Had I been exposed to people who drink earlier in life, I would have been fully aware that it takes a helluva lot more than just a half hour of drinking alcohol to knock someone unconscious. I am so lucky that nothing worse than simple petting happened to me (we didn't even see it through to its obvious conclusion for Cho, that's how inexperienced we were) that night. I shudder to think of all the many ways things could have gone wrong for me as a naive young woman in a hotel room with two men.

The Three Levels of Heaven

Personally, I can respect the LDS belief system just fine, and am glad that many people find comfort in the knowledge that they will enjoy having families and eternal glory in the Celestial Kingdom if/when they make it there. They have every right to believe this for themselves.

Here is why it can easily seem kind of strange to others. If I were to become a Goddess and follow God's example (as described in Mormon theology), here's what it would entail:

I buy a new house. I have four children, and the house has four bedrooms. Two of the bedrooms (one being the master bedroom) are located on the top floor of the house. I decorate my bedroom and the bedroom beside it in totally lavish decorations, the best money can buy. Large and comfortable couches, chairs, silks, lights everywhere, and a king sized bed for each of these rooms. Solid gold fixtures and beauty abounds. Walk-in closets and plenty of light and space and beauty. A special intercom connects the two rooms for constant communication, and I include a big double door that swings open to connect the two rooms whenever necessary. Togetherness abounds.

The third bedroom is found on the main level, and I decorate it tastefully, but spend an eighth of what I spent on the bedroom upstairs when I decorate it. It is comfortable but not great. Single bed. Desk with one wooden chair. It is comfortably large but rather sparse in furnishings. No phone or intercom to connect to other parts of the house.

The fourth bedroom is in the basement, and the lighting is bad in there, but I don't mind. I spend about 1/20 of what I spend on the upstairs rooms, and I furnish it with a single bed but no desk, chair, or lamp. It is a small room, just large enough to fit the bed and dresser, but nothing else. I don't include any extra lamps for light, and the window is small and near the ceiling. No phone or intercom to connect to the other parts of the house.

Then I sit down and decide of my four children, which one has been most obedient and followed to the letter all the things I outlined on my posted fridge chart of rules to live by, including bathing in my special pool and believing in my Special Ghost. That one is the one who gets the nice room upstairs with me. We play, live, and have a good ol' time up there every day, all day.

My child who was also obedient, and honorable, and had a testimony of the truthfulness of my charted plan, but failed to be valiant that one time after having taken the required bath in my special pool...may only ever be visited by The Chosen Son but not by me. Ever. He will live separately and singly forever in the room on the main level. I have no intention of visiting him.

The third child is the one who did not receive the testimony of The Chosen Son at all, and who refused to even look at my posted fridge chart of rules to live by. This is he who is a liar, a sorcerer, an adulterer, a whoremonger, and he who loves and makes a lie. He will only be visited by the Special Ghost I send, but never by The Chosen Son and never by me. He is grounded in the basement in semi-darkness alone for a thousand years, after which I will allow him to emerge, and only then will he be allowed a second chance.

The fourth child is the one who once had a testimony of my Special Ghost and Chosen Son, and was once as obedient and faithful as the first child...but instead of constantly following the fridge chart rules, one day thought about it and decided that he didn't believe that a Special Ghost gave him the good feelings he felt sometimes. He felt them when he heard the national anthem, or when he watched Anne of Green Gables, or when he heard Beethoven's Ninth Symphony. I knew he must be following the Evil One when he told me this, and I can allow no forgiveness for him, for he denied the Special Ghost after having received it when he was eight. He will live in eternal darkness, torment, and misery with the Evil One and his angels forever.

And this is precisely how I want it to be for all of my children I love equally.

Meeting Sideon

I have known Sideon via blogging since August or September of last year. He's been an avid reader of mine, and a good friend, since I began. When he told me he'd be in my neck of the woods (relatively), I jumped on the chance to meet him in real life.

Am I ever glad I did!

I got to turn the meeting into a trip by myself, something I haven't done since I was 18 and headed to Austria for my year as an exchange student. Driving down the highway alone with my map on the seat beside me and the radio cranked loud was such a great feeling ~ not better or worse than traveling with my family, just different. It's been a long time since I felt independent and, well, young. I admit I felt young and carefree driving like that, something I hadn't expected.

I didn't arrive until 10:00 p.m., so I contacted him and we met in my hotel lobby and decided to have a drink in the lounge. It was wonderful, like reuniting with an old friend. Conversation with him was easy, enjoyable, and entertaining. Sideon (as you may have already guessed by his comments and by his great blog) is a great guy. We talked about many different things including his family, my family, our jobs, the people at the bar, our parents, our lives. The great thing about him is that he's a very interesting person, and he's damn fun to be around, and I felt like I could have stayed up all night talking with him. I'm certain we'd have never run out of things to discuss. He's someone who is comfortable in his own skin, and that makes being around him a joy, and made me feel like I could just be me. This is a rare gift, and part of what makes him so great.

We decided to call it a night after a couple of very interesting people from the bar approached our table and introduced themselves one after the other: Cat, who showed us her many tattoos of cats (leopards, jaguars, tigers...even a homemade tat from prison), and whom I'd have been afraid to follow into the bathroom alone; and Justin, whom in five minutes of conversation shared that he worked the oil fields ("Where else can you work six weeks and make over 100 grand?"), had driven his custom made motorcycle to the bar, had been up for three days straight already, and whom had once held a man's head and let him talk while his body (which had been severed just below the chest) slowly died. While Justin was talking to us, Cat came back over and told us that she used to live with Justin but "He don't want me no more, do you, Honey?" We left shortly after talking to them, as soon as a window of opportunity presented itself.

The next morning, we ate breakfast together, and talked all the way, while enjoying text messages to Christy, then we posted a blog post quickly on his blog before we had to leave to meet up with his aunt and uncle at their house.

Rusty and Penny (names changed to protect the innocent) were the nicest people you could wish to meet. They showed us their home, filled with original pieces of art and crafts. It was very fun to sit and get to know them, then she had to get back to work, and Rusty took us out to lunch and then gave us a tour of the Hot Springs State Park in Thermopolis.

It was great to have someone who grew up in Thermopolis taking us through the State Park and explaining what he knows of the hot springs and sharing memories of childhood and life. He was very interesting and fun to talk with. Apparently, it's the "World's Largest Mineral Hot Springs." They aren't sure how deep the hot springs is, and the boiling hot mineral water flows out of the ground into the pool, where it flows down in a stream into big pools that run off into the Bighorn River. The water leaves mineral deposits over time that create the unique look of what you see in my photos.

One of the funnest parts was walking the pathway around the springs and over the swinging bridge. Yes, Sideon AND his uncle had fun shaking the bridge as if they were little boys again, and I had to try to keep my balance. I should retaliate by posting a photo of them doing so, but I will resist (unless Sid gives me permission to add it anyway)...











Here is the hot springs source pool. It's beautiful.











This is the spot where Rusty said that he and his friends would dive into the Bighorn River below when they were kids, to impress the tourists. Holy crap! I could never do that. The picture doesn't do justice to how far down they would fall before hitting water. Yikes.

I'd have loved to see someone diving it, though, so I could share pictures of it with you now.

This is the free bathhouse and outdoor pool that is open to the public. Apparently the Indians gifted this hot springs to the government on the condition that it always remain free for all to use and benefit by. This is the reason you find a state park here with no entrance fee.

We didn't partake of the "healing waters" but I will next time I go to Thermopolis.


After we walked the pathway and took lots of pictures of the scenery, we drove the scenic drive where they have a herd of maybe 8 buffalo, and an old junkyard half buried by a hillside, full of old rusty cars. It was fun to make Sid stop the car so I could take photos of the junk heap. He probably thought I was insane, but he was sweet enough to stop anyway. I laugh when I think about that now.

After that short drive, we took Rusty home and then Sideon dropped me off at my car, and I set off for home, and he returned to Casper to visit other relatives. It was so damn fun to meet him! I consider myself very, very lucky to count him as my friend. What an amazing man.

My friend Janet was able to meet up with Sideon in Washington D.C. recently, and she said it best: "If you ever get the chance to meet Sideon in real life, RUN, don't walk." He's a great guy, and I can't wait until the next time he comes to Thermopolis so I can take my family and hang out with him (and hopefully Rusty and Penny) again.

Thanks, Sid.

Sideon

I gifted myself an early birthday present on Wednesday and drove alone to Thermopolis, Wyoming, to meet up with one of my favorite bloggers of all time, Sideon, while he was there to visit family. I got home last night.

Oh. My. God. Sideon is as fabulous in real life as he is in his comments and on his blog. I am so damn glad I got to meet him...he is simply awesome.

I will post at length about our adventures tonight or tomorrow, complete with pictures. I am busy right now catching up after taking a day off work, so I must get back to it.

Stay tuned!!

Dear SML - Mattman is alive and kickin'

Dear SML,

I know there are probably quite a few bloggers out there in outer blogness wondering what the hell happened to me. A few months ago I put my blog into restricted mode and yes, I could give access, but there's nothing there -- I removed it all. And no, it's not because I went back to the morg. No way!

I left my house (and my marriage) about 3 months ago and subsequently filed for divorce as I wasn't getting reasonable cooperation in terms of what's best for the children in terms of spending time with me. It's all still in the works, so the disappearance of my blog is about a necessary quiet period that goes with it. There's a chance it wouldn't cause a problem, but with the system already being overly stacked against fathers in this country (and especially my state), I can't take any chances.

I really miss all of you in outer blogness. I didn't realize how much support I was getting from it until it was gone. :( I haven't even been able to keep up with reading blogs, but things have almost settled now where I can go back and try to catch up. Hopefully someday soon some of you will start seeing comments from me every now and then.

If any of you have been following my story closely or were in other ways more closely tied to me, you can ask either SML or Sideon for direct contact information for instant messaging or email. I can't handle a flood, but a few of you who are either are in or were in similar situations would be welcome contacts to me right now as I'm having lots of struggles. Being a single father is far from easy, especially as an agnostic, and I'm constantly doubting myself about my decision that this path can and will be better for me and the kids long term. The doubts have so far not been enough to go back to a failed marriage, but still, it's a struggle.

Thanks to everyone who helped support my blog before and in some way helped me find the strength and self-confidence I had lost, so that I could stand up and do what I felt needed to be done. I hope I can get back to blogging sometime in the near future. I don't want to take the chance until after my divorce is final, but I have no idea when that will be -- hopefully sooner rather than later.

-Mattman (from ramblings of a mattman)


Dear Mattman,

Thanks for giving everyone an update and I hope you find your balance soon. Good luck with getting your life on the track you need it to be on. I have faith in you that you can do this. I always admire people who do the difficult thing in order to listen to their own voice and forge their own path toward improving life and finding happiness.

If anyone needs to contact Mattman, or simply wants to wish him well and offer moral support, email me at sistermarylisa@gmail.com and I will forward your message to him or give you his email address so you can do so yourself.

Spa

For Mother's Day my husband and kids got me a trip to the spa to be spent with my daughters getting a facial and a manicure or pedicure. (Can we say spoiled??) I look forward to doing this with them! It's gonna be so fun.

I don't remember the last time we had a GIRLS' DAY OUT with just the three of us...

I can't wait.

Happiness is...

Getting my most coveted book EVER today in the mail, after having ordered it (thanks, Dartman!!) before Christmas. Hardbound copy, hot off the press:

"ALLA PRIMA: Everything I Know About Painting" by one of my very favorite artists, Richard Schmid. 204 pages with 118 full color reproductions. I think I just fainted.


You have no idea how much this book means to me. I already know from browsing through it tonight that I'm going to learn some valuable things as an artist from the pages of this book. Just looking at the paintings helps and inspires me, but he also writes about his process and techniques and thoughts...and I can't wait to actually read it from cover to cover. If I weren't so tired I'd begin right now.

Something about me I just discovered today ~ the way to my heart is through an art book like this one.

Growing Up Mormon - There's Something About You

I've been enjoying immensely CV Rick's memories of childhood, and have discovered that his writing reminds me of many of my experiences while growing up Mormon. Almost every time he writes memories it sparks memories I have, so I will be sharing them here on my blog under the label "Growing Up Mormon."

I am the second oldest of 8 children in my family, oldest daughter to parents who grew up in Utah and dated three years in high school before marrying at age 19. Eric, Val, and I were each born a year apart (my mother's a SAINT!), and two years later Tony was born, two years after whom Baby Mark was born. He died of crib death at age 7 weeks. Every two years or so after that, Steve, Keith, and Kate were born. Our family dynamic plays out in two groups: the big kids (Eric, me, Val, and Tony) and the little kids (Steve, Keith, & Kate). I feel like the oldest as much as Eric does, since I was the oldest girl. Tony was treated often like the youngest (spoiled, we teased) sibling, as was Kate, wrong as this label is.

My dad was in the army during the early years of their marriage, so he was in Vietnam when Eric was born and returned the day before I was born. Eric was old enough to know that Dad was a stranger to him, so he took a long time to warm up to Dad, which didn't bode well for Eric down the road. I don't think Dad forgave him for that for a long time. But I was newborn, and a girl, so I was treated like a favorite, while Eric was treated worse. It is subtle, yet undeniable. My sister Tony and I are the two who were treated the best by our dad, for some reason, if you can apply the term "best" to it. It is something I've pondered often, wondering how the different treatment we received may have affected our lives and personalities. I know that I wish it hadn't been so. So my memories will be varied, some painful, some light. I look forward to remembering.

My dad was in the army for three years. After that they moved to Orem so he could return to BYU. He almost became a paleontologist but ended up not doing his thesis, (world-class procrastination) so in the end, we moved to Montana after he got a job working for a pharmaceutical company as a traveling salesman selling drugs to doctors. I was six years old.

It was an interesting childhood. We were poor, very poor. There were very few families in church with as many kids as we had, and even fewer outside of church. Life is different when you have that many siblings, and not enough money to go around. CV Rick describes this as MWOM (Mormons Without Money) as opposed to MWM (Mormons With Money). I'm sure I'll have much to say on this subject in the future. We were definitely a family belonging to the first category, and I'm so thankful I have the mom I do, who was so very good at homemaking, and cooking on a tight budget. She makes the most wonderful food. She was of course a stay-at-home mom, because 1. we never could have afforded day care for that many children, and 2. it was taught that a mother's place was in the home.

We were poor, and we were Mormon. We were different, as there aren't too many Mormons in Montana. But we were taught that different was good. Let your light so shine, so that others may be drawn to you and will ask you about what makes you different. You will then be able to teach your friends about the Gospel of Jesus Christ. I have no idea if I will be able to effectively describe how painful being different can be when you're a child wishing to be "normal" (although now I recognize that "normal" is subjective and means very little to me)... I was certainly different. I still am. "Unique" is how I prefer to describe myself now.

I was also taught often (at home and at church) to always be a good example of righteousness, because people who aren't Mormon are always watching and secretly looking up to you, because you are different, and you live highter standards. They will be watching for you to mess up, and when you don't, you'll be admired all the more.

I remember three instances in my life (although there were more than that) where people told me "There's something about you" and asked me what it was. Having grown up Mormon, I knew what that special something about me was: The Holy Spirit™. These instances only served to reinforce in me the truth that I was being watched and admired for being different.

1. I was the lotto booth clerk at Albertsons when I was seventeen, and had many regular customers who bought lotto tickets for Wednesday and Saturday drawings. One such couple came to the booth one day, and the husband said to me, "Lisa, you have such a special aura about you! There's just something about you that makes you seem to glow. What is it?" I was very uncomfortable. They were both staring at me intently and beaming at me...it was creepy. I mumbled something quickly about the fact that I was Mormon and how I was sure it was The Holy Spirit™ they could see within me. They responded that perhaps that was it and left, each of them turning to look at me twice on their way out the door. I dreaded seeing them after that. I still remember that guy's name...they had given me their names and his business card when they asked me about my aura. Strange. Did they think I would actually call them??

2. I was an exchange student in Austria when I was 18. One of the Austrian AFS volunteers named Clemens was a little older than me, and had been an exchange student in the USA a year or two before. Every so often we'd get together for a weekend as a group at a lodge in the forest somewhere, and it was tons of fun socializing with the different exchange students from different countries. On one of these weekends, Clemens asked me to go on a walk with him, and we found a swing, so I started swinging, and he said to me, "Lisa, there's something about you - something different, like a glow. What is it that makes you so different?"

Of course I gave him my only answer for this phenomenon. "It's my religion that gives me my glow. It's because I have The Holy Spirit™." He asked me some deeper questions and I was so nervous and worried I would answer wrong if he asked me a tough question, that I told him I'd get him a Book of Mormon and he could read what I know and could ask me any questions later. It never occurred to me that he actually had a crush on me and was making a pass. At least it didn't occur to me until later...the very next Sunday I got the missionaries in my ward to give me a Book of Mormon, in which I wrote my testimony in my best teenage girl handwriting in the front cover, and I sent them to his address without warning him first. After that, he didn't have much to say to me at our AFS weekend retreats. Go figure.

3. I had a friend in high school who lived nearby. She had an older brother only, so her house was extremely quiet always, and one time when she came over, she admitted to me that she felt something every time she was in my home. "There's something about you, something special about your family that I feel every time I'm in your home. It's so warm and inviting! What is it?" You can guess exactly what I answered.

So. I grew up Mormon. And there's something about me. I can't wait to write more about what it was like for me to Grow Up Mormon. It was an interesting ride, to be sure.

At 5:30 in the morning...

I recognize how very crazy I was to stay up past 1:00 a.m. when I knew I had to hit the road by 6:00 a.m. in order to get my son to his soccer game on time, almost 4 hours away.

What a fool I was.

Thank Jeebus I can sleep the whole way there if I wish...Oh, wait. Thank my husband who'll be driving.

An Interview

My friend JulieAnn, wonderful author of Ravings of a Mad Woman was kind enough to give me these awesome interview questions that I am happy to share with you today.

1) If you were to be a food, what would you be and why?

I’d be Crème Brûlée, of course. Sweet, smooth, highly desirable. Requiring care and also a little fire to reach my full potential.

2) What was one of the most pivotal moments in your life, and how did it change you?

Discovering the church I followed my whole life wasn’t the “TRUTH” as I thought it was. This freed me to find my OWN truths, and I’m still in the process. It’s liberating, empowering, and exhilarating all at once. I seriously feel like a new woman. It also brought me to this blog community where I’m meeting people I think are extraordinary. It’s wonderful.

3) If you had 24 hours to live, with whom would you spend your time and what would you want them to know?

I’d spend the time with my children, of course. I’d want them to know that they are each unique and full of self-worth. I’d want them to understand how very important it is that they recognize their own inner voice, and to listen to it always because it will tell them how to be their most authentic selves. I’d want them to know how very deeply I love them and not to worry that there is a life beyond this one…just to make the best of this life by following their dreams.

4) What is the difference, for you, between hope and faith?

From my dictionary ~
Hope: to desire something with some confidence of fulfillment.
Faith: confident belief; trust.

Hope is something that feels more personal to me than faith. Hope is the feeling I feel when I face my deepest desires or wishes. Faith is more of a tangible thing, and it does have religious connotations when I think about it. I much prefer hope over faith. If I have no hope, what do I have? I think I’m an optimist, so hope is very important to me, whereas, I feel fine when I don’t have faith in anything. Although, have I ever felt the complete absence of faith? I don’t think so. I have every faith that I will have a bill in my mailbox when the mail comes today.

5) If you could sleep with one celebrity, who would it be and why?

Oded Fehr. (See “hope” above.). I think he’s handsome and sexy as hell, that’s why. Is that shallow of me? So what??

If anyone wants me to give them five interview questions, just say so, and I'll do my best to comply.