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Contemporary West
Hello friends. I’ve been a bit distracted and I took an unintentional break from blogging. I’m getting back in the saddle; I promise. Meanwhile, I wrote a thing and someone published it! Yay for me! You can read it here if you are so inclined.
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Working Gals
A few years ago, I was dining alone in a nice restaurant in Irvine that had a cool hipster name like Figs & Branches or Peas & Bacon. I don’t know what it was. I was traveling for work (remember traveling? remember restaurants? *sigh*) and my boss recommended the spot. I got their early in the evening and had no trouble getting a table for one, but by the time I was finishing my meal the waiting area was packed with hungry foodies. Suddenly, three Indian women appeared at my table. One confidently sat down and the other two hovered for a moment, watching my face for my reaction. The…
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The Gatekeepers
I was in the 7th grade, sitting in class, when I heard my name called out over the intercom, directing me to go to the counselor’s office. I probably went either white or red, I don’t know. I just remember being paralytically shy in those years, and I remember the horror of having this attention directed toward me. The school counselor, Mr. Larsen, asked me to sit down in his office and he got straight to the point. “I called you down because you made an error on your class registration form for next year. You signed up for shop instead of home-ec. Here, I just need you to fix…
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2020 is a Shitstorm
The last couple of weeks went to hell in an old frayed tote bag from a long forgotten telethon for PBS. Last week, especially, was completely unproductive. There has been a lot of focus on the fires in the West, and the stories are terrible and horrifying. I just wonder if it were a slower news week, maybe the fact that there was a small hurricane in Utah might have received SOME attention. But no. Utah is the U.S.’s weird cousin state that everyone pretends not to know at school (or anywhere in public outside of Thanksgiving, for that matter… but even then you have to sneak into the dining…
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Weekend in Zion
At The Desert Pearl Hotel in Springdale, Utah Ethan (age 5): The sink in our room is so short! I had to bend over to use it!!! Me: What sink? What are you talking about? Ethan: The one in the bathroom. Me: Right next to the toilet? Ethan: Yeah! Me: That is not a sink. It’s a bidet. Ethan: What’s that? (Pause) Matt: It’s European. Me: Only it’s for when you’re-a-poopin’. Ethan: WHAT? Matt: It’s a sink for your bum. Ethan: 😐 End scene. (Photo: Zion National Park – Mt. Carmel Highway Scenic Drive)
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Heavy Heavy Hangover
Heavy Heavy Hangover “What do you want for your birthday?” a friend asked. “Oh, I don’t deserve a present. Just give me a lump of coal in a brown paper sack. That will make it easier for you to hit me in the head with it.” My friend gave me a blank stare which he accented with thoughtful blinking. Finally he asked, “What the hell are you talking about?” “You know. That game you play when you’re a kid? ‘Heavy heavy hangover… thy poor head…’?” More blank staring and thoughtful blinking. So I explained the game. The birthday boy or girl would have to sit in a chair and everyone…
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Pride
The first time I went to the Pride Festival in Salt Lake City back in the 90s, it was a fairly small affair. Don’t get me wrong; it was a good sized party and plenty of people came, but not so many that you wouldn’t bump into your friends without making a big deal over it. Which was good because I didn’t have a cell phone back then. There was a free speech corner for the protesters, and there were a decent number of those. And there were booths but it didn’t have a lot of art or stuff for sale. I would say it was fun with freaky elements,…
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Bear River Bird Refuge, Utah
I didn’t see many birds on my visit to the refuge, but I did enjoy our beautiful mountains. I never get tired of seeing them.
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The Cuisine of Central Utah
Traveling south from Salt Lake City on Interstate 15, you will eventually pass a city called Fillmore, a tiny town that was the original capital of the Utah territory. Then, about fifty miles south of that, you will pass the city of Beaver. Growing up, I often heard this part of the state referred to as “the Fillmore/Beaver area.” Either because Utahn’s are really sheltered, or because we like to make our teenagers giggle. I wonder which of those two types of Utahns made this sign. I’m hoping the latter.