Daze of '47

Today was a Utah state holiday, Pioneer Day, or as we know it around these here parts, the Days of '47. It commemorates the day in 1847 when the Mormon pioneers topped the mountains, looked down at the Great Salt Lake valley, and Brigham Young said, "This isn't the place, drive on to San Diego." No, I'm lying. That's what I wish he'd said. I could have been born in Southern California. As it was, he's reported to have said, "This is the place," and my ancestors ended up in landlocked Utah.

Pioneer Day kicks off the hottest two weeks of the summer, although it's hard to imagine how it could get any hotter than it has been. Yesterday in my hometown of Sandy it was 107º. Today officially it was 99º. Hey, we’re not setting any records, so we gotta try harder! Let's get that temperature up a few degrees. In this election year we can get our local Republicans running for re-election to Senate and Congress to kick start their usual campaigning, enlarging the ozone layer, melting glaciers in the Arctic with the hot, fetid air and poisonous, gaseous emissions from their mouths. That ought to get the temperature up to around 125º or higher. I'll keel over dead from heat exhaustion, and I won't have to put up with either the heat or re-election bullshit.

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I have already mentioned my granddaughter's baptism yesterday, but failed to mention that when we left the church we headed for breakfast at Village Inn and passed a sign outside a local Baptist church that said GOD LESS AMERICA. I wasn't sure if that was a missing "B" or an editorial comment.

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And speaking of babies, our son's childhood friend, Elizabeth, had her first baby girl just one hour after our son's wife had their second baby girl. We got a chance to visit with Elizabeth, her mom and dad, and the baby, Alexana, on Saturday.

Elizabeth's Alexana, top; our Gabby, bottom.

Elizabeth's dad, Carl, was there. Carl is quite a character. He's a man in his early 60s who just can't hold a job. He's a nice enough guy, but I think his religious devotion may hold him back. He's a truck driver who can't work around other guys that are, in his word, "vulgar." In other words, all the other truck drivers in the world. Carl got a new job a week or so ago driving deliveries for a pallet manufacturing business. Carl is one of these guys who always has ideas. He was complaining about his footgear, steel-toed safety shoes, being too hot in this excessive heat we've been experiencing. He showed us the shoes. He had taken a razor blade and cut out 1" sections of the shoes along the sides so they resembled sandals, except the steel toes were intact.

I looked at the shoes with amazement, while Elizabeth and her mom rolled their eyes. Who knows? The guy might just have something there, and maybe he should take out a patent. I didn't mention to him, though, my first thought: sure, it's hot now, but what about December and January?

Knowing Carl, though, he probably won't be working for the pallet company come December and January. Someone will make a dirty joke in his presence and he'll quit. People, no matter how religious they are, have just gotta lighten up. It's a big old sexy world out there, and other people can't be bothered by those who take easy offense to what is said.

You know the old saying, fuck 'em if they can't take a joke.

Ciao for now, El Postino