This is Where I Live

Utah is going to be in the news for the next few days.

No, it isn't because the Sundance film festival is starting, or because we have another Nobel prize winning scientist among us. It isn't even because the Mormon church is making headlines. It's because some idiot decided to go into a store like this.

Yes, that is an assault rifle. Yes, it is perfectly legal for him to be carrying it. Under Utah state law as long as the gun is unloaded, or he has a concealed carry permit, he can take it anywhere he wants, no matter if it makes others around him feel unsafe, or if he has mental problems, or if it is just plain dumb. Yes, the police can stop and question him, but as long as he meets the criteria, he can do what he wants.

Do we all see the problem with this?

Guns are becoming more important than people.

More important than maintaining a civil society.

Don't tell me this is about rights. If this were about rights then the same people screaming about guns would be screaming that homosexual couples should have the right to express their love like all other Americans, and that women should be able to make their own reproductive decisions. After all, don't all "slippery slopes" end at the bottom?

Don't tell me this is about safety. I could quote a millions studies showing how a gun in the home is more likely to get the residents injured or killed than any intruder. How having a gun involved in a  crime raised the risk of fatalities. How most of the people who commit gun crimes own their firearm, don't steal it. However, if you have ignored those studies before, you are going to ignore them now.

Don't tell me this is about hunting, or self-reliance.  That dude is not going hunting at JC Penney. I know they claim to have "killer prices" but I don't think he is trying to take it to the extreme.

What this is about (at least as far as I am concerned) is intimidation. It's about people who feel their way of life is being threatened and so they are figuratively and literally pulling out the big guns.  They feel they are becoming the minority after so long in power, and it's scary. I get that. But the answer isn't to threaten your fellow citizens, even under the guise of trying to protect you and them. After all, I bet if anyone talked to that guy he would say the gun was "for protection."

I really wish that we could all just talk about this. That I could say to someone "I fear that guns are becoming so prevalent that I want background checks on the parents of all of my daughter's friends" without being told I am a liberal fascist (yeah, I know, but I have seen the term used). I am sure that gun owners want to vent their fears of inadvertently being painted as criminals because they are exercising a constitutional right.

That won't happen though -- at least not right now. So, maybe we could all just agree not to be total assholes. At least not in ways that makes everyone else in the state have to explain to their friends why exactly it is we live here again. We can only extoll the beauty of the mountains, and the not so weird liquor laws, so many times.

Please?

Read more →

Grow it, Show it

My hair has gotten long.

Wait, no, that's not accurate.

My hair has gotten too damn long.

No, I am not talking Crystal Gayle length or anything, because that would be too damn crazy ass long. However, it has gotten long enough that when I see people I haven't seen in a while the first thing they say is "wow, look at your hair." That's actually the only time I am really grateful my hair has gotten as long as it has because they could say, "Wow, you've put on weight!" and that would be a true statement as well. The hair distracts them.

All other times, though? I do not like this hair.

There are really only two styles I can do with it: straight down and ponytail. I tried doing a half up, half down style that I used to love when I had mid-length hair, but I just ended up kind of looking like a Polygamist wife. That is not a look you want to have in Utah. I have tried braiding it, but with the aforementioned weight gain I end up looking like a pin head. Also, braiding would violate all of my rules for how a woman my age should behave.

My hair is everywhere now. It's its own entity. I find it in balls under the table, or wisps on my desk. Meg is always saying "your hair is on me," and it usually is, even if I am standing ten feet away.  As it gets longer it seems to get thicker too, reaching out to overtake everything around it. Oh, and don't even get me started on how it gets in the way when I am trying to be "amorous." I am beginning to worry my husband must have an Addams Family fetish because dalliances with me have become like getting it on with Cousin It.

So, then, why don't I just go ahead and cut it?

Because my daughter thinks it's beautiful, and I love the way I look through her eyes.

I love the fact she likes to pull my hair across her mouth and make a moustache. I love that she likes to sit in my lap and "hide" in it. I love that she wants to pet it as she goes to sleep. I love that she calls it my "big beautiful hair." I love her, so no matter how much I hate my hair, I'm keeping it for now.

Maybe I should start practicing "Don't it Make My Brown Eyes Blue" right now in case it gets too out of control...

Oh, wait, I already have blue eyes.

"Talking in your sleep," it is.

Read more →

Rove-ing Utah

Three or four times a week I see Karl Rove.

Well, not actually Karl Rove, I don't watch that much FOX News. A Karl Rove look alike. Utah is lousy with them. Men (and, occasionally women, bless their hearts) who look just like the dark lord of the GOP. Not just a passing resemblance either. Dead on. So much so that most of the time Ryan and I (and whoever else may be with us) actually have a short conversation about whether or not it actually is him.

Don't remember what he looks like? Here's a reminder...

Yep. He's a looker.

He looks like roughly 10% the population of Utah. I don't think it's an accident either.

No, I am not saying that "Rove chic" is a thing here. Nor am I saying our genes are Roved (although he did grow up here). What I am saying is I believe people who naturally look like Karl Rove have moved here to find safe haven.

Think about it. It makes sense.

Poor chubby guys (and gals) were living happily in Vermont, or Oregon, or Wisconsin when suddenly, in 2000, they begin being mistaken for what is now the face of the far right wing. They try to lose weight, buy new glasses, buy Subaurus and put HRC bumper stickers on them, invest in shirts that say "I am not Karl Rove," but nothing seems to work. Neighbors start gathering pitchforks. They are pariahs. So, they start looking for a place where the fact they have a Republican doppelgänger  will be a positive.

Utah. The state that would change it's name to "Republicanada" if that didn't sound so much like "Canada" where godless socialists live.

I haven't done the research to prove my theory (that would be work), but I am pretty sure I'm right. I bet if I went through the records at the DMV I would find a large number of balding, pleasantly plump, bespectacled new residents applying for licenses around 2003.

Every time I see a Rovian now I want to tell them to "stay strong." After all, there is a Democrat in the White House now, and probably will be until 2016; eventually Rove will have to retire, and people will forget who he was. Then they can return to their liberal, hippie homes without fearing retribution.

At least I hope that happens. Rove could be having himself cloned, or be planning to have his head jarred ala "Futurama." I really hope that isn't the case though. The more of these Roveugees that come into the state, the more likely that Meg's graduating class will end up looking like an episode of "Face the Nation." How is she going to hang that picture on the wall of her dorm room at Howard University? She'll have to go to Bob Jones University just to fit in.

Of course, there she might actually see Karl Rove.

I just hope she doesn't mistake him for the butcher at our local grocery store. Or the teller at the bank. Or one of the board members of the local Planned Parenthood chapter....

Read more →

Screaming Child on Aisle 7

My child was the terror of Target today.

It started in the toy section. We were walking through when she spotted a "Memory" game featuring her latest infatuation: "Angelina Ballerina." She was very excited about the game, and I was very excited she had picked a toy that was not only educational, but also only cost seven dollars. I told her when we got home I would teach her how to play.

That's when all hell broke loose.

"YOU WILL NOT TEACH ME," she bellowed from the depths of her soul. "I WILL TEACH MYSELF."

I stepped back, wondering if she was about to vomit pea soup. I swear the entire store went silent, afraid of incurring her wrath. I stepped up to the parenthood plate. "Meg, that is not how we talk to anyone," I said, "you need to be polite." Usually that works. Meg is pretty reasonable for a two year old. Today though, no dice. Instead of returning to normal, Meg ramped up the crazy, responding with an ear curdling scream that reverberated off every hard surface within a mile.

I tried to pry the game out of hands, attempting to make sure the last thing I did was reward this behavior; but she held onto it like it was welded to her hands. "Meg, if you don't behave, we can't get the game," I said. "I DON'T WANT TO BEHAVE," she screamed, and tightened her hold on it.

I decided the best thing I could do was just get out of the store as fast as possible.

We dashed through the aisles, picking up the things we needed, Meg's screaming like a siren warning other shoppers to pull to the right and let us pass. We finally screeched to a halt at the check out line, behind a woman with a baby that was also crying, although nowhere near as impressively as Meg. He was crying just enough though, to make Meg go silent.

"Mom," Meg said, "that baby is crying." I nodded. The baby's mother turned around and gave us a wry smile. Meg looked even closer at the kid.

"Mom, do you think that baby has a penis?"

I burst out laughing. So did the Mom in front of me. Oh, and the lady behind me. And the checker.

Hey, she may be a terror, but at least she has timing.

Read more →

Not Fair

My husband, Ryan, has never gotten a speeding ticket. 36 years old, never had a speeding ticket.

This weekend? He got pulled over for doing 84 in a 70 mile an hour zone.

He knew he was busted the second he saw the trooper at the bottom of the hill. He said it before the lights even came on. He actually got over in the right lane to prepare to stop while the trooper was pulling out in to traffic. "Oh, this isn't good," he said.

Nope, it wasn't, but I was loving it.

Now, first of all, let me just say I know that makes me a horrible person. I should be supporting my husband at all times, and never taking delight in his foibles. But THE MAN HAS NEVER HAD A TICKET! Me? I've had lots of tickets. Driving is not what you would call my "forte." I've been to traffic school so many times I could have a Masters degree. When our insurance goes up I am the reason. And every time I get a ticket? Or get in a little "fender bender"? I am reminded that Ryan has a perfect driving record.

All that was going to change though.

I very helpfully got out the insurance card and the registration for the Trooper as he walked up to the car. "Going a little fast, sir," he said. Ryan admitted it, saying he realized that hill had gotten the better of him. The trooper took our information and said he would be right back.

I wondered if it would be mean to have the ticket framed for Ryan as an anniversary gift. I thought about the advice I would give him about driving school. I wondered how long I should wait before I blogged about the ticket. I texted Tara immediately.

Me: Ryan is getting a speeding ticket.
Tara: Tell him NOT to thank the cop. 

The trooper came back.

"I'm going to let you off with a warning this time," he said, "because you are the only person who admitted to speeding today."

My jaw dropped. I grabbed my phone.

Me: He got off with A WARNING!
Tara: Of course he did! Who would give Ryan a ticket?
Me: He said Ryan was the only person all day who admitted to speeding, so he gave him a warning.
Tara: That is EXACTLY how I would have written that scene. 

I think she was more disappointed than I was. That's why I like her so much.

I know, for a fact, that if I had been driving I would have gotten a ticket. Maybe even two. I probably would have gotten one for texting Tara while waiting for my other tickets. Then Ryan would have told me once again about his perfect driving record.

You know, the one that is still intact...

Read more →

Have Fun

There is an amusement park near my house, and on every ride, right before you take off, the 12-year old running it tells you to "have fun." It doesn't matter how terrifying it is supposed to be, or vomit inducing, the last instruction you receive is to "have fun."

I always hated that.

I mean, of course we were all going to at least try to have fun, weren't we? After all, we had come to an amusement park, hadn't we? It wasn't like we had come to "root canal land," or "tax audit town." I always wondered why the forced merriment. Now, though, I have figured it out, largely because I have stared saying it too.

It started as a joke. When a reporter would head out the door to cover a particularly gruesome, or mind numbingly boring story, I would tell them to "have fun." Depending on their religion they would flip me off, or groan. Over the years though it moved from being a joke, to just being how I say good-bye -- and I have found it annoys some people almost as much as it did me at the amusement park.

My husband in particular isn't fond of it. When he has a meeting he doesn't want to deal with or is heading back from a school break it makes him especially grumpy. I try to tell him I'm not mocking him, that it's just something I say, but he doesn't buy it. Once I tried to tell him that it was just my way of reminding everyone that life is precious, and that we should look for the fun in every moment. He looked at me like body snatchers had taken his wife and replaced her with an automaton.

So, now I need to find a new good-bye. I want something catchy, but not too "slick." Maybe something with an ironic twist, like "hello, or is it?" That seems to wordy though. Maybe I could stick with the amusement park thing and tell people to "hold on tight" or "please don't puke."

So many possibilities.

Until a new one is found though -- have fun.

I mean that.

Read more →

Where is She?

I have a list of questions in the back of my head at all times. I call it my "St. Peter Questions."

These are the questions I would like answered in the event of my death, if heaven actually exists and I actually end up there. Most of them are garden variety: what is the meaning of life, what kind of joke is giving me non-functioning reproductive parts in a world where Duggars exist, and is there any way "Jurassic Park" could be scientifically accurate. Not surprisingly, there are also questions on the list that have to do with news; after all, I've been practically breathing it for 20 years. Deep throat's identity used to be on the list, until he outed

himself. What happened to Elizabeth Smart used to be on the list, what happened to Jon Benet Ramsey still is.

And then there is a question of Susan Powell.

For those of you not in Utah, or who don't have to watch the Today Show (lucky), Susan Powell disappeared from her home almost two years ago without a trace. The consensus is that that her husband killed her and buried her somewhere in the desert where he claimed he was "camping" at the time of her December 2009 disappearance. Of course, if that is the case, the mob might want to hire him because apparently he is a criminal mastermind. Cops have combed his house, and his car, and his father's house, and everywhere else they can think of and have turned up NOTHING. Oh, and we know they have found nothing because every time the police are about to find is they have called the media.

In the past month they have led three media goose chases, making sure camera were there when they went into caves, or dug in fields, or took items of out homes. So far, the biggest discovery has been some burned wood and a spot where cadaver dogs think they smell human remains. Either that or burned hot dogs someone buried after a camp fire. Dogs do like tube meat.

I will give you a dollar if you know where she is.

I really hope to take Susan off of my SPQ list soon. Not just because I'm worried I won't have time to ask St. Peter all my questions if she stays on the list either. Also, not because I feel like I should apologize to my viewers when I tell them we will bring them something new in the Susan Powell case and then report on burned wood. The reason I hope it comes off my list is because I am sure her family would also like the questions about her disappearance answered, and most likely before they are dead. Probably even more than the "Jurassic Park" question.

I said probably.

I mean, that is a really good question.

Read more →

I Need to Move to Antarctica

I am pretty sure I am melting. That is the only way to explain it. Utah is not humid enough for me to be sweating this much. Or at least it isn't supposed to be. Maybe I should blame global dampening.

Anyhoo, before I electrocute myself by touching my computer with wet hands I thought I would let you know where you can find me on the Interwebs today. Over at Sprocket Ink I have a piece about how you can rent friends, and they won't even care much you sweat. And at Tired and Stuck I wrote about going back to the pill container in the name of my uterus.

Come back tomorrow though. I'm sure I will have something witty to say. I mean, unless I melt.

Now, if you'll excuse me, Meg and I are going to lie on the lawn and eat popsicles under the sprinkler.

Read more →

The Angriest Place on Earth

The DMV truly is hell's waiting room.

Today, I went there to get my driver's license renewed, and spent a total of 27 minutes inside. During that time I witnessed seven fights, two of which almost got physical. And all but one of them were started by a DMV worker.

Let's just start with the fact that getting your driver's license renewed in Utah has become an epic task. They now have so many requirements it is unlikely that you will be able to get your license in just one visit. Every time you miss one of these requirements? There is a DMV worker standing there willing to tell you you have to start the whole process over again. And they are willing to tell it to you in a way that blends smug and nasty into a perfect evil cocktail.

Didn't print out your appointment confirmation sheet? You don't have an appointment.

Don't have your application completely filled out? I can't help you.

Don't have your birth certificate AND social security card AND passport? Don't argue sir, I'm just following the rules.

Don't have not one but two pieces of mail delivered to your home in the past month from an official source bearing your full name? You are just wasting your time.

Didn't find the hen's teeth and a four leaf clover on the scavenger hunt? You really shouldn't be driving any way.

Yes, those are all real responses I heard. Well, almost all of them.

Surprisingly, me, the person who regularly leaves my keys/wallet/sunglasses/baby behind managed to have all the things I needed to complete the process. I felt like I had completed an epic quest as I walked up to the desk for the final paperwork.

The guy helping me was not impressed. In fact, me having all my paperwork in order seemed to make him even angrier. My attempts to smile at him were met with glares, and the two times I asked questions (one being "how are you") he stopped everything he was doing to just stare at me as if I had just asked if I could pound nails through his hand.

When I left I told him to "have a nice day." His response? "It's unlikely, but I appreciate the sentiment."

Yeah.

I think my new driver's license picture sums up my experience.

This is temporary. The real one will be in Technicolor.

Actually, that's not a bad one. The lady next to me actually had fire coming out of her eyes.

Unfortunately that's against the rules, so she has to go back next week...

Read more →

Sorry Seems to be the Hardest Word

Okay, so I think we all agree that the incident on Friday was most likely about racism.

Only one problem though. I can almost guarantee the man who thought he was being asked for money instead the time does not think of himself as a racist. I bet his friends don't think of him as a racist. I wouldn't be surprised if he spent the rest of his night trying to convince himself that the way he responded wasn't based on race, and that it was all just a misunderstanding. He probably reminded himself that he has plenty of friends of color.

That's the problem.

You can't start making changes until you admit there are changes to be made.

I've thought a lot about what I wish had happened Friday night. I mean, other than it not happening at all. The best case scenario? It would have ended with an apology. It would have ended with an acknowledgment of what happened, and a new resolve not to let it happen again.

That would have been uncomfortable though.

It would have required an admission that racism still exists, even among people who don't consider themselves racist.

And no one really wants to do that, do they?

Read more →

The Time

Friday night Ryan and I decided to go to the big annual arts festival in downtown Salt Lake. There were TONS of people there, and all over the surrounding streets. On one corner, right across from the festival, obviously waiting to be picked up, were a man, a woman, and three small children. Two of the kids were playing/fighting, and the third, a baby, was obviously getting fussy and didn't want to be put back in the stroller. I could see the frustration on the parents faces, and as we approached the father asked a man who was passing if he had the time.

Wait, I mean he tried to ask the man if he had the time. Before he got two words out the man said "no thank you, I can't help" and tried to hurry his wife along. The father's jaw dropped. My jaw dropped. Ryan looked at his watch and said "6:30." The man turned back around and started to give the time, but the father just looked at him and said "I don't need it from you."

Oh, I probably should have mentioned the family was black.

Thoughts?

I have some, but I really want to hear what you think first.

Read more →

Not Black or White

High schools in Utah have things called "color wars." It's a week when students at the school divide into two teams (usually freshmen and sophomores versus juniors and seniors) and battle in a series of really stupid contests, each team representing one of the school's two representative colors.

Sounds harmless, right? Well, sure, unless the colors of the school are black and white. Then you end up with kids yelling "black power" and "white power" and possibly wearing white hooded like garments (pillow cases, they say), and all hell breaking loose.

One kid has now been suspended, as have the Vice Principal and Principal for not stopping the events as they happened. Everyone involved (except for the people who were offended) say it was all in harmless fun, and that they were thinking of the "color wars" and not any racist overtones. The parents of the boy suspended say his punishment doesn't fit the crime, since he never "meant" the pillow case to look like a hood, and he didn't bring it to school anyway. The NAACP says they don't care, and want him expelled. They want the administration fired too.

The thing that really gets me is the fact no one wants to take this moment as to teach, rather than a moment to punish. Was that kid wrong? Hell yes. Should the administration have paid more attention? Oh, yeah. Could they all have really not meant any harm and just have been lulled into not seeing racism because no one wants to acknowledge it or teach their children what it looks like any more? I think that's entirely possible.

We teach our kids to recognize poison, and danger, but when it comes to racism, we try to pretend it can't hurt them, that we are "past that." We aren't past that. Race is an issue. Trying to pretend it isn't, and that are not racist undertones in everyday society, is like not telling kids poison can harm.

I think the first thing we need to do is get rid of "color wars." I mean, does no one see the problem with that? Are we going to call field day "race riots," next because running like that is so fun?

Yeah, not so harmless.

Read more →

Jesus As Wingman

Growing up in Utah, I have always been aware of polygamy, and polygamists. In junior high there were four girls in my grade who dressed in long blue dresses every day and wore their hair in braids like Laura Ingalls. They lived in two houses next to each other, both surrounded by tall, cylindrical hedges. It was the bushes that really gave them away. Without them they could have just been neighbors that were trying to start a new "pioneer girl" trend. With them though, everyone knew these girls were sisters, and their Moms were sister wives.

This was the closest approximation I could find on Google image search.

In years since I have observed multiple court cases involving polygamy, and met people who are either directly involved, or have family involved in the lifestyle. I've had time to really think about polygamy, and reach some conclusions about it. The main thing I have decided? Polygamy is a plot to get girls thought up by ugly and/or creepy guys who otherwise wouldn't have a shot in hell.

Think about it. Have you ever seen a good looking polygamist? Warren Jeffs? Nope. Tom Green? Nope. Kody Brown? That dude looks like he stole Dorothy Hamill's haircut. Yet, all of these men have convinced multiple women to marry them, and sleep with them on a regular basis, using the ultimate pick up line: "Jesus wants you to."

That pick up line allows a guy to be weird, boring, smelly, and make no effort at all in the relationship, and the woman has to go along with it, because of the Lord Almighty. Now, yes, only a certain kind of woman will go along with it; but they are still living, breathing women, which is a lot better than most of these guys would do under any other circumstances.

No wonder fathers have passed this down to sons, and have groomed their daughters to become other men's wives. Also, no wonder men hardly ever leave the lifestyle. One gets ready to leave and the other men call him in and say "you realize this means you will never see a woman naked again." BAM! He's back in the fold. It also explains why the societies are so closed. It isn't that they fear others ridiculing. They fear someone will let the women know that nowhere in the scripture does it say Jesus runs a heavenly Match.com.

You almost have to give them props for figuring out such an elaborate scheme -- I mean, before you remember that it often involves the rape of underage girls. Oh, and that often taxpayers end up footing the bills for their massive families because many of the wives go on public assistance to make ends up. Okay, maybe "almost" is a little much.

I wonder if they use the Jesus line to convince their wives those hedges look good in the yard too...

Read more →

Buster Poindexter Can Suck It

It is damn hot in Utah right now.

Yes, I know, east coasters, it's a "dry heat." Nothing can compare to the misery you are enduring with the heat AND humidity. You should all be given medals. I mean that. However, I listen to you bitch when you have two inches of snow on the ground, and have been out of work for three weeks because of it, when I only am excused from work when even a dog team can't get me there, so I think listening to me complain about the "dry heat" is a fair trade. Oh, and you can buy wine in the grocery store, so shut it.

Our house is extremely small. We have a swamp cooler, and a ceiling fan, and a small fan in the living room. Despite all this, no air is moving. The only ten feet of the house that are cool are those directly in front the cooling sources. I would like to blame it on mechanical problems, but all are working perfectly.

We have taken to eating large amounts of popsicles and ice cream, mostly because the idea of cooking anything makes us all want to go on strike. The fact that I am eating ice cream just proves how hot it is. I do not eat ice cream. I spend my calories on wine. Yet, because of this heat I made Ryan take me to get a Butterfinger shake yesterday. I ate it all. And then I felt dirty.

Meg seems to be taking the heat in stride, mostly because she LOVES the water. She is happy at the community pool. She is happy in the kiddie pool. She is happy playing in the sprinkler or the hose. She is happy with the spray bottle. As long as she is around water, she is smiling. Even when it's just water from a water bottle...

Of course she's keeping cool, half of the water is going down her shirt. It would be annoying, but I will admit that the times I have been the recipient of the splatter it has been quite refreshing.

I can hardly wait to complain about winter again. I am even looking forward to listening to the east coasters complain about it too.

Yeah, it's that hot.

Read more →

Thanks, But No Thanks

I don't have a problem with Mormons. I have never been a Mormon, or wanted to be one, but I have lived around them most of my life. I work with them, am friends with several of them, and even count some among my relatives. In fact, in my personal experience, I find that if you don't bother Mormons, they don't bother you. I mean, unless you were once a Mormon, but didn't follow the exact instructions to get on their "do not call" list. In that case? All bets are off.

For instance, this morning the Mormons came calling for my husband.

Yes, my husband, the man who thought it was a good idea to marry me, was once a Mormon. He hasn't been active for years, got married and baptized his child in the Episcopal church, and no longer considers himself Mormon, but he hasn't filled out the official request to be dropped from the church membership. That, coupled with the fact he still has very active Mormon grandparents who occasionally still ask if he will ever go on a "mission," and who know where we live, means occasionally the church comes looking for him. All the other times he has gotten the door, but today, he was busy with Meg. It was my turn.

The boys sent by the local ward (Mormon church) were probably 14 at the most. Puberty had obviously been kinder to one, leaving him looking like the older brother of the other. Both were wearing pink ties -- I don't know if that was required. When I opened the front door they both smiled.

"Hi, is Ryan ______, here?" They mispronounced his last name. I knew something fishy was up.
"Can I help you?" I still wasn't sure if they were Mormons. They could have be selling magazines.
"Well, we're just from the ward up the hill, and we have his name on this list." They both pointed to the list.
"Yeah, he's not a member. Hasn't been for years."
"Well, he's on the list," both pointed again, "so we thought we would check." They smiled bigger.
"Okay, well, thanks." I really wanted to be polite, but I was in the middle of the Times magazine article about abortion providers, and I really wanted to get back to it.
"Are you a member?" The bigger one looked down at his list, searching. He looked back up. I felt I could hear all of the ears of my Mormon friends prick up, waiting to hear what I would say to this young buck. I shook my head ever so slightly. He got the message.
"Would you be interested in community event information?" The little one finally spoke up. Nope, puberty hadn't hit him yet.
"We have friends." I responded.
"Okay. Have a nice day."
"You boys have a nice day too."

I watched them as they walked down the driveway and to the street. They checked the list again, and the little one pointed at a house down the street.

Now, I know some of you are thinking "what harm would it have done to get community event information?" That would have been "bothering" them. Expressing interest. Like if they had asked me about my blog. They never would have gotten away.

Wait! That would be a great way to increase readership!

Maybe next year. After all, as long as Ryan is in the house, and as long as his grandparents know where he is, I know they will be back.

Read more →

A Death for Us All

The state of Utah is preparing to kill someone, and it is slowly making me crazy.

I do not condone the actions of Ronnie Lee Gardner. He killed two people, and critically injured another. He admits to it. He has never really sincerely apologized for his actions, blaming them instead on his childhood, and drug abuse. He is not what I would call a "good guy." However, that doesn't mean he should be murdered in a spectacle that is beginning to rival that of a circus.

This execution is bringing out the grim aspects of humanity. At a commutation hearing earlier this week two family members of one of Gardner's victims pumped their fists when his appeal was denied. Local newspapers, and television stations, are doing multiple stories every day. As the execution day grows near national media are joining them. Gardner's every move is being cataloged, and transmitted in press releases. People are vying for seats in the execution chamber. All of it is being rapidly devoured by the public. They are eating up blood lust, pure and simple. And they are calling it justice.

I think that's the worst part for me. This idea that the state sanctioned killing of a man is justice. I thought society was supposed to try and raise people up, not kowtow to their basest instincts. I thought we were supposed to work together to push forward, and not resort to methods of the past that obviously have never worked. After all, if eye for an eye really is a deterrent, shouldn't murder already be a thing of the past?

Also, I don't see how this isn't cruel and unusual punishment. Telling someone you are going to kill them, and that people are going to watch them be killed? Letting them count down the hours and days? Telling them everyone around them knows they will be killed, but that no one can help them? Replace "state" with "psycho" and that is the basis of a great horror movie. Eli Roth could direct.

I'm just glad I don't have to explain this to my daughter.

Yet.

Read more →

Oil is Gross

I am praying hard today for the people of the gulf coast.

For the past 48 Salt Lake City has been dealing with an oil spill that is like knocking over a dixie cup compared to the mess in the gulf. Roughly 500 barrels (21000 gallons) of oil spilled out of a broken pipeline in one of the canyons and into a stream yesterday morning. That stream runs through my neighborhood, and into the biggest park in Salt Lake City. That stream is now totally toxic, filled with dead fish, leaving an oily residue on the banks and plants for a five mile stretch. The pond it empties into is now a sludge pit. It is so bad the entire park has been closed while they put in absorbent booms to get the oil off the water. The geese and ducks living in the pond, who were in the middle of nesting, have all been taken to the zoo to be cleaned. Oh, wait, not all of them, dozens of them are on their way to the landfill after being suffocated by the oil.

The air smells disgusting. It's better today than yesterday, and there is a breeze blowing that helps, but most of the time it smells like a gas station. At it's worst you could actually taste the fumes. It was gross.

And this was only 500 barrels.

More than one point six MILLION gallons of oil have already spilled into the Gulf of Mexico. And that leak isn't capped yet. This one is.

I can only imagine what Louisiana smells like right now.

So, I'm praying.

Maybe you should too.

Read more →

Small Stature, Big Impact

Gary Coleman died, and now I'm sad.

At first, I was just sad because I no longer had a "go to" guess every time a celebrity died. Then I was sad because I wondered if Sam would miss his favorite story subject. Then I was hungry because I skipped lunch. I had a really good sandwich, and then I was sad again, because I realized Gary would never get to have another sandwich, and I didn't even know if he liked sandwiches. I knew so little about the man who was my favorite choice for "which celebrity will die next," that I felt I had no right to even play that game at all.

I slipped into a funk.

I tried to hide my sadness behind a bravado of jokes. I told people Todd Bridges was interviewed on the Today Show but was crying so hard no one knew what he was talkin' 'bout. I started a petition to get Emmanuel Lewis to move to Utah to fill the hole left by Gary. I even, shamefully, circulated this photo of Gary's supposed casket. Not funny, and a bit cruel, I know, but I was trying to deal with my pain.

Stolen from a blog more tasteless than this one.

After that I just felt sad and dirty.

Now, I just don't know what to do. I keep thinking I see him in the distance, or that I hear his voice. My heart races until I realize that it's not him; that's it's just my mind wanting him to be there so badly. I find myself wishing I were his ex-wife or parents, just so I could be arguing over his remaining assets and who gets to dispose of his corpse.

Actually, I wouldn't want to see him dead. I would rather remember Gary this way:


I know. That picture is almost too much perfection for anyone to take. And now, it's all we have left of them. I mean, it soon will be all we have left of them. No one thinks Hasselhoff is making it through the year, do they?

Oh! New contest entry! Yay!

Now, I'm hungry again.

Read more →

Next Stop: Harvard

We found the perfect educational institution for Meg.


Actually, I guess it's more of a safety school. First choice is, of course, Taco Bell Academy.

Read more →

Not Funny Any More

Mother Nature is messing with Utah. I would say it's God doing it, but I know this state, and I really don't want to stir that pot. So, I'll blame it on Mother Nature. Today? It snowed. Oh, and it didn't just snow a little bit. Some places got a foot of snow. Think I'm exaggerating? Check this shit out...

Stolen from ksl.com

Yeah, no one in Utah is growing good tomatoes this year. I think we'll be lucky if any of us grow anything but mold.

I would love to say that this is just a one time "joke" from nature, that she's just pulling a prank because she knows how Utahns enjoy a good laugh -- but she has been messing with the state for almost a year. This winter? We had practically no snow. People would arrive in the state and think the "greatest snow on earth" logo on the license plates was ironic. Resorts were asking kids to bring their Snoopy Sno-cone machines up to help cover the slopes. We had a beige Christmas. Well, at least we did in the north. In the south, where it is supposed to be warm in the winter, they got hammered with snow. Record blizzards. All of the retirees came out of their condos to shake their canes at the sky -- to no avail. Of course, we are all good sports, and used to drought years, so we figured that's what it was.

Now we know better. Mother Nature was just setting us up. Wiping off the chair so she could pull it out from under us. Offering us a can of mixed nuts, knowing there is a wire snake inside. Telling us a big celebrity was coming out in People magazine, and then announcing it's Cheley Wright.

We are not amused.

I just wish I knew what she had up her sleeve for summer. I'm guessing either heat beyond belief that makes everything melt quickly and brings the Great Salt Lake back to prehistoric levels, or polar ice caps.

Watch, now it will be temperate and lovely. At least until the locusts come.

That bitch.

Read more →