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Show PAGE 12 THE ZEPHYRJUNE 1992 But they were afraid of looking silly. Or they had forgotten how. Maybe, on the other hand, the thought had never entered, or even tapped at the door of, their minds. This became the more realistic possibility of the two in looking captives. Themanonmyleft, inhisgrey at the new group of red-ligBMW, sternly speaking into his cellular phone. Puddles? Dancing? Get a a Gremlin. Think about this and grip. The guy on my right in, yes it's true, answer honestly. Could you look serious while sitting behind the wheel of a Gremlin? This man could. Not just serious. Downright deadly. Studies have shown that people who take life too seriously die at a muffin and watching a younger age, usually while eating a bran studies (not to mention documentary. This has its positive side, since other your own common sense) show that there are way too many people on this is probably as good a way to go as any. planet , and What this will lead to is future anthropologists digging up hundreds of cemeteries, asking the question, "Where did everybody go? In this, the healthiest of all generations, why did they all die before their condos were even paid off?" te And they will conclude that it all started with the death of the movie. Which was, coincidentally, followed closely by the demise of the long, handwritten letter, the leisurely, purposeless, guilt-fre-e lunch , and candlelit baths. These have been replaced with God help us colourized birthday cards, powerbusiness lunches Jimmy Stewart movies, and quick, solitary showers. Is it any wonder then, that everyone looks so morose? How to break the vicious cycle, I wondered as I waited at the next red on light I had a thought. A new approach, too risky to try on the CEO-typ- e Fun-Valeft. Senior Citizen I a On was till waited one of the my my right Then.. looked smiled. me. at J occupants ht subjectCherietoGilmore chang by death-by-boredo- m city-cent- er I was sitting at a red light in Salt Lake the other day, contemplating life, - which seemed especially good right at that moment. It was raining one of those soft summer rains that make you roll down the window and lean back and catch rain drops on your tongue. (I am aware that the rain drops were, in all likelihood, laden with cancer-causin- g pollutants, but it felt good). From some hidden garden came the scent of roses and wet grass and that unnameable commingling of summer smells that has always meant home to me. I was brought abruptly back to the present by the beeping of a horn behind me. In my rear-viemirror a man was making strange gestures and looking sort of purple in the face. I interpreted the gestures to be of some deep religious significance to him, returned the friendly honk and moved on to the next red light Where I became immediately reacquainted with the people who had been at the previous light and had peeled out in unison the second it turned green. (I looked for my gesturing friend and found him two lanes over, pounding the steering wheel in frustration). Anyway, there we all sat, ensconced, quite literally, in our own little worlds. My fellow pilgrims were a diverse group, with no immediately apparent common trait Except for that look of frantic determination which seems exclusive to the city driver. As the light changed they again screeched off in pursuit of...what? As the wind blew the cool rain drops against my cheek and all the closed windows raced by, framing those intense faces, I wondered. Where were they going at such a frenetic pace at 2 o' clock on a Wednesday afternoon? Hundreds of people taking late business lunches? Returning late from business lunches? The unemployed masses on their way to late interviews? Possibly a sudden attack of sanity had hit the city and they were all in a mad rush to get out? Any combination of these could conceivably explain the crazed glint in the eyes, the white knuckles, the near-fatlane changes. Still, in the back of my mind was the kernel of suspicion that they had no idea where they were going or why they were in such a hurry to get there. Perhaps they too wanted to roll down the window and catch rain drops or even get completely out of the car and dance in puddles. w al Mies Joe Kingsley C801J 259-569- 3, My 690 South Main, Moab, Utah 84552 Excellent opportunity for the right person. A profitable 8 unit bed and breakfast Two units are 2 bedroom and 6 units are 1 bedroom. All with kitchen and all have had some remodeling. All are in very good shape. One block from the center of town. Owners are asking $325,000.00 and e are willing to finance to the right parties. Please call to Arches Realty now for more information. toll-fre- i black-and-whi- - fax-writt- en n. - |