OCR Text |
Show PAGE 8 THE ZEPHYRNOVEMBER 1993 From the Desk of the Zephyr On-the-Ro- ad we do any better? Probably not Can you imagine the meetings? the experts tell us that evolution erf living things continues at such a rate that plants and animals and insects go out of existence and come into existence so fast that we humans cannot keep up with it. The number of things in existence that we have named is far outnumbered by those we don't even know about. Most erf what we have named is dead and but it's gone. And something else has gone. There may have been a naked broomrape once, taken its place. And we get to name that one. As for names of places, take "Moab," for example. In media interviews I'm always asked where I live and when I say "Moab" they want to know where that is and how it got its name "isn't that in the Bible or something?" And I always tell them the town was named to memorialize the first bastard in the Bible. Now there's a conversation stopper. But it's true. I know it makes editor Stiles nervous to use scripture in his paper, but in Genesis you will find the story. It starts where Lot and his family were told by Jehovah to run for their lives because He was going to wipe Sodom and Gomorra off the map. He told them, "Don't look back." But Lot's wife did and she was turned into a pillar of salt That left Lot and two daughters to carry on, hiding out in a cave. To keep the family lineage going one of his daughters got her daddy drunk and had had sex with him while he was sleeping She had a son. Called him Moab. And he beget quite a bit himself and became the granddaddy of all the Moabites, who, you may recall, were living in that neck erf the woods when Moses and his traveling Hebrew circus rolled through looking for guaranteed real estate. I am not making this up. It's in the Book. Did those who named our town "Moab" know what they were doing? Did they have a town meeting and try out fifty names and then some wiseass get tired of the whole bickering hooha and, fully knowing Moab was a bastard say, "How about Moab?" It does make one wonder. We've all been to meetings like that Suppose we were to rename the town more appropriately for our own time? Now there's another contest I could get behind. Rename this town so that when someone sees the town sign and then drives through the town, they'll think, "They sure got that right." Editor Stiles will be glad to have your suggestions. Somehow we could do better than something that suggests "Bastard Gty" to a knowledgeable tourist. Personally, I've always liked Truth or Consequences, New Mexico. I know they named it for a television game show, but it has stunning philosophical implications for a community of human beings. Maybe "Take It Or Leave It, Utah" might be as honest a name. As for me, I think of Moab simply as "Home". As in let's go home. Every time I'm away I take a deep breath and slow down as I cross the river into town. It's a great relief to be back. For all its changes, it looks real good to me. In the last five years I've been in every state and almost every city over 500,000 people. Traffic is awful, commutes are long, existence is anonymous, the air is poisonous, prices are high, crime is serious, schools are in decay, government is corrupt or inept, housing is expensive, jobs are scarce, people feel trapped and powerless, and you have to go a long, long way to get any relief from it alL At night people lock themselves behind doors, turn on security systems, and watch TV. You couldn't see the stars if you could find a place open enough to look, and all you can smell on the wind is exhaust fumes. And all the wildlife around is what's left in bars and out wandering the streets in the dark. Sure, Moab isn't paradise either. But you can see a lot of it from here. And it's sane in its own eccentric way. I don't know any town where the police report in the newspaper is seen as the humor column. The first newspaper I pick up always tells me the same thing: once more the town is divided up in an uproar between the sonsabitches and the bastards and there's hell to pay for something or other. A review of newspapers for the last twenty five years will show you the city's temper hasn't changed much, either. But I tell you the truth, I don't know of any small town with a broader spectrum of opinions and concerns and positions - all of whose holders seem ready to take to the stump and the ballot-bo- x to make something happen. For a town of 5,000 people it's astonishing how many people go to how many meetings. Equally astonishing is how often Moabites are called to the polls to vote and how many of them actually go. In the best sense of the word, we believe in attending to politics - the public affairs of the people. A d cynic (read: whoever was on the losing side in the most recent election) might agree that "Bastard Gty, Utah" is still the right name for the town. But a more objective view might suggest that the town is aptly named for the descendants of one who made the best of his beginnings and toughed it out in the wilderness east of Eden. Though recorded history moved on with the Jews, archeologists tell us the Moabites had a pretty fine life in a place in which the tourists saw little promise. Moab, Utah, is a place where democracy is alive and well. Democracy in its finest sense. A way of community based on the conviction that there are extraordinary possibilities in ordinary people. The ways of a free people are often a pain in the butt. Still, the alternatives to democracy are unacceptable. The job of a citizen is to keep his or her mouth open. This goes for all - idiots, fools, turkeys, dimwits, sonsabitches and bastards and every other jackass who doesn't agree with any one of us. Our President said one thing at his inauguration I really, really liked. "There is nothing wrong with America that cannot be cured by what is right with America." And there is nothing wrong with Moab that cannot be cured by what is right with Moab. Every last one of us bastards ought to get that straight. -- By Robert Fulghum (As you may knout, Im in Modb for a few days off in the middle of a forty-cit- y book promotion and speaking tour. Twenty cities down. Twenty more logo. So far, so good. Moot is on that list of cities because it's where I live. More people may show up at Carnegie Hall, but none of them more important to me than those who came to hear me at Star Hall the night ofOclober 14. And, thanks to them, we added a pile of money to the book budget at our library. Thanks, as well, to the Osborn's Bookstore and the library board, the organizing work of the evening was well done. Its easy to take the library for granted -- 1 know I do. It's run so well and so graciously I sometimes forget the library needs me as much as I need it. Hie entire operating budget is only $14000 a year and that doesn't buy a lot of books or services. The library needs us. If you can't help with dollars, help with books - they're really glad to have any good books in good condition. Books that are just decorating your shelves at home would be a lot better used in circulation - put some of your library down at our library. While Im at it, thanks to my son, Hunter, who held down this column while I was on the road. He writes better at age thirty than I did , and it's great to have an accomplished scientist in the family who can also speak in human terms. 1 appreciate editor Stiles' putting up with my erratic presence and keeping me on the payroll. I really need the jobj wish to announce a contest The prize is a dinner for two, either at my house or at any restaurant in Moab, and an autographed rubber chicken. To win the prize you must take me out in the field and show me These items are listed in a naked broomrape, a crouching locoweed, and a bastard toad-flafield guides to the wildflowers of our area. I am not making up the names. I have looked for these flowers in the wild and cannot find them. Do they really exist? Furthermore, I would give an even larger prize to meet the yahoos responsible fox sticking such miserable names on flowering plants. How could you look at a wildflower and say, "Let's call that sucker a naked broomrape?" Or have the perverse gall to say, "Well that one looks like to me." Someone must have a bad experience in the bushes when they a bastard toad-fla- x declared "And that sorry sonofabitch deserves to be called a crouching locoweed. All I can figure is that some plant mavens must have a sour sense of respect for the subjects d of their vocation. Field guides are full of adjectives - the "lowly" this and the "false" that and the "dwarf" whatnot and the "pygmy something else. Wonder what they name their dogs and children? And I'd sure like to know what was going on in the mind of the guy who named a small yellow sunflower the "nipple seed." Like to meet his girlfriend. If he has one. So, who cares, really? I suppose political correctness in naming wildflowers is not a bandwagon with a lot of steam behind it, though dumber matters do get a lot of press. But I've often wondered what would happen if we were to wipe the slate dean of all the names fax things around us and start over. If our generation was responsible for labeling the environment would I x. mean-spirite- Thanks to everyone in Moab for your support at Slick Pics, and for your friendship and kindness. Come visit me in Arizona! -J- ennifer Johnston bitter-minde- |