Once a Ranger, Always a Ranger: The Legacy of Jason David Frank

As I was about to settle in for a Sunday nap, I got a text from a friend that Jason David Frank, one of the original Power Rangers and one of my childhood heroes, died this weekend, reportedly from suicide. Normally celebrity deaths don't rock me too much (don't get me wrong, all their deaths are sad). However, I've met Jason David Frank and even after all these years he's still Tommy Oliver to me (even more since meeting him). 

He began his legacy in Power Rangers as the evil Green Ranger. After being freed from Rita's control, it wasn't long before he led the Ranger team as the White Ranger and later the Red Zeo and Turbo Rangers. But to those familiar with the franchise,  there's no  red to rehash his character's life story.

When I met JDF at Salt Lake FanX 2016, I was impressed by his love for his fans. He said he wanted the 100th person in line to feel just as important as the first. He's the standard to which I compare all celebrity meet and greet (Well, him and Catherine Tate). His legacy goes deeper than his long history as a Power Ranger. To many who treasure the franchise, he raised them when their parents were busy working or were otherwise unavailable. He taught kids to stand up for themselves and yet to still be kind. He taught how to be a leader and a mentor. It's strange to think there can be no more Tommy Oliver surprise appearances in the future of Power Rangers.

While still unconfirmed, it's rumored that he died by suicide. This pangs me even more… he gave to his fans and wanted them to feel special and important… yet he had internal anguish and pain that was never resolved. 

Suicide is very preventable cause of death… and men are four times as likely to die this way. I want to ask all men (and women) to step up. If you've contemplated or attempted suicide, I'm glad you're still here. If you are currently dealing with depressive, anxious, or suicidal thoughts, please reach out for help. The world has already lost one hero this week, we don't need to lose you too. 

To Jason David Frank, Tommy Oliver will live on in the hearts of Ranger fans forever. Once a ranger, always a Ranger!

Connection vs. Escapism

I had a conversation with a friend about Dear Evan Hansen. She said, "Oh, I couldn't stand that movie. It was so dark and depressing. When I go to the movies, I want to ESCAPE! I don't want to be reminded of all the problems in the world." I countered, "Not me. When I got to the movies, I'm not looking for escape from my problems. I'm looking for CONNECTION. I want to relate to what I'm seeing, and gain perspective that help me with my problems."

I think this is a fundamental difference in approaching movies, and even in approaching the world. Neither is more right than the other (except the one that's my viewpoint -- that one is more right, of course). 

Dear Evan Hansen was definitely heavy. I wouldn't call it dark and depressing, even though it certainly dealt with big topics like suicide and depression and mental health. But to me, what was more important than the tone of the movie was its relatability. 

I first saw DEH on Broadway, just two months after my best friend died by suicide. It was gut wrenching and raw and difficult to watch. But cathartic at the same time. I related to Evan being the last one to talk to Connor before Connor's suicide. I related to his feelings of helplessness and despair. I related to Evan's own suicidal ideations. 

Watching the show anew, two years later, all the feels hit even harder. I still connected with the messages about suicide and feelings of hopelessness, even though I'm further removed now from witnessing my friend's death. But watching the film version of this story brought about different connections for me. I related to the social anxiety Evan exhibits, and couldn't help but think of my own kids and the struggles they have. I know this is not what Evan Hansen has, but I have a child with autism who is amazing and has the most incredible brain. I have another child who struggles socially, and often feels like they "have always been that barely-in-the-background kind of guy". 

Watching Dear Evan Hansen in the movie theater, I didn’t want to escape life. I wanted to connect. I wanted to feel my feelings, as raw and ugly and complicated as they might be. Feelings can be tough to face sometimes, and it feels like they are somehow easier to access when watching a show with a story or characters I can relate to. At least, this is my experience. I don't want to escape my feelings, I want to feel them. Because in the end, just like Evan learns, I want to let the sun come streaming through, I want to live my life. I want to be alive. I want to connect, not escape.

I don’t want to disappear.

If you are having suicidal ideations or you don’t know where to turn, please call the suicide hotline at 1-800-273-8255. 

How Geocaching Saved My Life

Geocaching saved my life. If you don't know, geocaching is an outdoor pastime, where players use GPS to look for containers (called "geocaches" or "caches") which have been hidden at specific locations all over the world. In other words, I use multi-million dollar satellites to find tupperware in the woods.

This past year, I’ve gone through quite a bit of life changes and trauma. A faith crisis, a divorce, a son in the hospital for an extended amount of time, witnessing my best friend’s suicide, a son diagnosed with brain damage, losing my job, attempting to take my own life. And then coronavirus hit. I definitely needed a distraction and hobby that would get me out of the house, that would give me something to do. I’ve always known about geocaching from my Boy Scout days, but I’ve never done it. Then my dear friend told me about his geocaching experiences, and he helped me get started. Since then I have been hooked. I have found at least one geocache every day. I have taken trips to 18 states just this summer, and found geocaches in all of them. I have hidden my own series of geocaches, complete with field puzzles and mystery coordinates. And next month I’m starting a geocaching club at the school where I work.

I don’t think that geocaching, itself, saved my life. It’s a great hobby, for sure. But any hobby can breathe new life into your existence if you let it. For me, geocaching has helped me bond with my children in a unique way. I’ve gone to places and seen the most beautiful views. I’ve found trails in my own hometown that I didn’t even know existed. I’ve met some truly wonderful people and done some great networking. I’ve found some interesting swag and challenged my mind with difficult puzzles. But most importantly, I’ve kept myself occupied and gotten out of the house. In those quiet moments when I’m walking a three mile hike to find a little red pill bottle, I’ve done a lot of soul searching and discovered a lot about who I am. I have been able to process things that are happening in my life. Geocaching is a great hobby for me -- but the really invaluable aspects are the alone time, the fact that I'm doing something for myself, and that I'm coming into my own. That’s where the real therapy lies. I guess in finding little hidden containers around the world, I was really finding myself.

Who knew that bison tubes hanging in trees would be the best thing for my mental health?

Moving Onward after the death of a loved one

Minor spoilers for Onward below.

About two-thirds of the way through Pixar’s new masterpiece, Onward (see our review here), Barley is sitting on a Cheeto boat and reveals to his brother that he has a memory of his late father that he’s not proud of. Barley takes off his beanie and gets vulnerable for a minute. He tells his brother how his father was really sick, and Barley was instructed to go say goodbye to his father before he died. But Barley saw a man who was hooked up to tubes and wires, he got scared, and he didn’t say goodbye. He couldn't. Barley explains that since that moment on, he has chosen to be brave for the rest of his life, to never be scared again.

This summer I lost one of my best friends, Mark Mazzarella, who was nicknamed “Cheese”. On July 8, Cheese received some bad news, I walked him to his car, and we had an emotional moment. But it was too difficult for me to say goodbye, so instead I just kind of put my hand on his shoulder and didn’t say anything. I couldn't get the words out. That night I called him to check on him. We talked for about a half hour. And then he took his own life while I was on the phone with him. 

What happened to Cheese was tragic and traumatizing. I’m in a better place than I was this summer, but I’m still not over the suicide or the fact that I didn’t really say goodbye to my best buddy. I don’t think I ever really will be. But I have been working on allowing that catastrophic experience to shape the rest of my life. Like Barley, I have vowed to be as fearless as I can. I have started to live my life boldly. I haven’t taken up D&D or magic or protesting the preservation of historical sites, but I have started reaching out to friends like I’ve never done before. I’ve started examining my testimony and listening to the ways that God speaks to me. I’ve vowed to be more authentic in my life. And this is all a direct result of the death of one of the closest friends I’ve ever had. 

Suicide is a terrible thing. If you’re feeling even the least bit suicidal, reach out to somebody -- anybody. Like they say in Dear Evan Hansen, “You can reach out your hand and someone will come running. You will be found.” But for those left behind after suicide, or the death of a loved one, or any kind of loss, it can seem like an impossible task to pick up and continue our quest for happiness. However, I have learned that there’s magic in the way a tragedy can bring about some positive change. Just like a manticore’s fire can make way for new growth, or the loss of a beloved Guinevere can create a new path for a seemingly impossible journey, so too the death of a dear friend can be the catalyst for personal growth. Death has the power to spur another person to be brave, to live outside their comfort zone, to become a better version of himself. Though we never forget the person that we loved and lost, we can let them become part of the fabric of our future as we work on self-improvement and we move Onward.

If you are having suicidal ideations or you don’t know where to turn, please call the suicide hotline at 1-800-273-8255. 

The Almost Invisible Alien

SPOILER ALERT FOR ANY DOCTOR WHO FANS!!! I’m going to be talking about a Season 5 (Eleventh Doctor) episode today.

The episode features the Doctor and Amy, his companion, traveling back to nineteenth century France to meet Vincent van Gogh and take care of an alien he’d painted in a church. Whilst taking care of the alien, the Doctor finds van Gogh having an emotional breakdown that very much reminded me of my experiences with depression. Though there is no consensus about what van Gogh’s mental disorder was, the writers of Doctor Who portray it as a bipolar disorder. As I watched the episode, van Gogh mourning his loneliness, misery, and hopelessness, I was reminded of my own episodes of depression, feeling that I have no hope and I eventually all those close to me will leave me. Yet I can also relate to how only a little while later, van Gogh had cried it out and was a happy person again. He says that occasionally he’d be tormented by those moods, but then suddenly he’d be okay. Sometimes I feel like I can go days or weeks at a time feeling completely happy… and then an episode hits and I’m upset for a day, a few days, a week, or who knows how long. It wasn’t until the end of the episode when the Doctor takes van Gogh to the present day and he sees a museum full of his own work that he believes his life was worth something.

Depression, bipolar, and other mental disorders are a huge trial for many. One source I looked at said that about 10% of the US adult population deals with depression. Another statistic said that about 2.6% of the population deals with bipolar. Another thing I want to touch on here is suicide. Like van Gogh eventually took his life, there are many that feel mortality is too painful and so they take their own life to ease the pain. One website told me that in 2010 it was reported that there were 38,364 deaths in the United States. The same website says that 90% of people who die by suicide have a diagnosable and treatable psychiatric disorder at the time of their death. And what about the other 10%? Does that mean that that 10% without a diagnosable disorder could have been helped? Perhaps saved?

Back in the 1980s, Elder Ballard said about suicide, “Obviously, we do not know the full circumstances surrounding every suicide. Only the Lord knows all the details, and he it is who will judge our actions here on earth. When he does judge us, I feel he will take all things into consideration: our genetic and chemical makeup, our mental state, our intellectual capacity, the teachings we have received, the traditions of our fathers, our health, and so forth.”

  

It’s important to show love to those around us, because as the saying goes “everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle” but oftentimes we can’t see that. Like in the Doctor Who episode, the alien is invisible to all except van Gogh. He’s labeled as crazy and mad. Even when the Doctor and Amy try to help him with the alien, they’re left pretty helpless because the only person who can see it clearly is van Gogh. It is just like depression and other mental illnesses. I have felt many times like I am fighting an alien that only I can see.

There is help though. If you are struggling with depression, bipolar, or another mental illness, see a doctor or see a psychiatrist. All else fails, call this number for the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-8255. Human life is too precious to give up so easily. Keep trying. No matter how many times you fall, keep trying, because you’ll make it to eternal life if you just keep trying to keep the commandments.

SafeUT

Salt Lake Comic Com Fan Experience was this past weekend. It was super fun and I got lots of great tidbits of trivia from Doctor Who actors, Harry Potter actors, and other smaller panels. I'll save that for next week though. This week I want to talk about something that was brought up in the press conference on Thursday.

One of the leading causes of death in Utah is suicide. Bullying and prejudice are epidemics in Utah and the rest of the country. I was bullied, throughout elementary school and into my early years of high school. My brand of bullying was being excluded and forgotten. Only occasionally was I bullied to my face. I wasn't ever suicidal, but my experience growing up has shaped how I view myself and others.

It's because of this epidemic and because of the experiences of people who had it worse than me, that SafeUT was mentioned at the press conference. It's an app with capabilities to call in a crisis or submit a tip to the authorities of an incident. It's perfect because in a moment of crisis, you can call and talk to a trained social worker or therapist. If you aren't in a situation where that's not plausible, you can also text for help through the app.

So if you live in Utah, please go download the app. It could save your life. It could save someone else's. This is a way to be a real super hero.

Now, this was a bit heavier than my usual posts. Please be safe and share this with someone who needs it. I'll be back next week with somelighter stuff about FanX.

PS: Here’s the link for the app on the iTunes App Store https://itunes.apple.com/us/app/safeut/id1052510262?mt=8

Light-hearted FanX coverage coming next week