2004-06-20
I knew that I was in Utah the second I stepped out of the terminal after six hours of travel, lit a cigarette, and was immediately approached by a strange woman wearing sweatpants who simply said, "You shouldn't be doing that." I looked at her and said, "What?" And in my head, I said, "Ohhhhhh. This is that pagan moonman religion state with that one lake that could supply the world with salt for 1,000 years. Of course."Also, when Ryan and I went to the hotel bar to order martinis, the bartender took two regular-sized cocktail glasses and set them down in front of us... about a quarter of the way full. We raised an eyebrow to each other but I decided to wait and see how much we'd be charged before I feed him his face. And the bill came. $4 per drink.
I looked Bo (our bartender) in the face and plainly told him, "WHAT?! These aren't even full! Four dollars my ass!"
Bo apologetically responded that according to Utah state law, mixed drinks may only contain one (1) ounce of alcohol. Even martinis. They actually have these special little stoppers for bottles of booze that measure a perfect single ounce. Poor guy. He was just doing his job and my culturally unrelative self gave him gruff for it. I tipped him for his troubles.
Also, when Ryan was purchasing cigarettes, he noticed that according to Utah state law, you must be 19 - not 18 - to purchase cigarettes. The cashier at the gas station was also very apologetic about that.
I've concluded that Utahns are very diplomatic about how crappy their state can be sometimes.
Yet, that hardly ruined my week. My purpose for the trip - high school speech and debate nationals - was a stellar success. All of my kids came home with awards. The duo interp was top 30, the humorous interp and dramatic interp were top 60, and the congress student was elected presiding officer. I am one disgustingly proud coach. Unfortunate thing is, they're all seniors with the exception of one, and this was their last tournament. I am one disgustingly sad coach.
Utah, though, is still one of my favorite states. Appallingly beautiful. At a park in Salt Lake City in the foothills of the mountains, there's a statue of Bringham Young and Joseph Smith looking out over this incredible view of hills, valleys, and of course the lake, with the inscription, "This is the place." Meaning, "This is the place where we will indulge in the least subtle yet least protested violation of separation of church and state EVER." (Which I love.) This leads me to wonder that if the bronze statued figures were valiently facing the mountains directly behind where they stood, the inscription might have read something like, "Oh hell no. No way. We're stopping here. Enough."
But now I'm back home in STL. I'm tired, short on money, and I've lost my actress for my senior overview film. Of course, I jinxed it when two entries ago I raved about how great everything would go. So if anyone out there knows someone in the STL area who's about 22-28, white, and is open to two weekends rolling around in bed with another actor, lemme know. I'd appreciate it.
Mad props to Voss and the the Youth Class for a stellar, if poorly attended gig last night. And mad apologies to Nicole for not getting ahold of her all week about attending it.
And... I'm out.
-Andy