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Show The Summer Chronic If, Wednesday. August 2, Two Pa 1978 editorial I owe HAVE Been RcUS- - 0UJ 115(6- - CAtfCf A VP y ir tr.r i wv pup --sn AW (OAS A I I WAS Mi it. im l i ecu W WU&O THAT W Yd m e. hoppe Jerusalem, July 31, 2078 Prime Minister Begin Aygin announced today that the Israeli Cabinet had "no choice but to reluctantly reject" Egypt's latest peace bid. This brought forth an indignant protest from Egyptian President Owar Zitat. "I haven't even thought up one yetl" an angry Zitat complained. Aygin promptly accused Zitat of stalling. "We Israelis must reject all preconditions before sitting down at the bargaining table," t The president said he was also dispatching Secretary of State Hughes Kissengernow for a new round of shuttle diplomacy on the diplomatic shuttle which leaves Cairo on the hour and Jerusalem on the half hour (daily, except Saturdays). The secretary told newsmen he was eagerly looking forward to renewing old acquaintances, renewing old peace bids and "getting a really good knish." "Zitat's stubborn unwillingness to set preconditions for us to reject is the major stumbling block to a peaceful settlement." Zitat, however, held firm, saying it was clearly Israel's turn to make a peace bid for him to reject as he had made the last three peace bids in a row. Meanwhile, new fighting broke out in Lebanon between the Palestinians, the Syrians, the Copts and the Southern Baptists. In Washington, President Fuller Hope said he was confident that "a lasting peace in the Middle East is just around the corner." hopes were somewhat cooled, PLO leader Yassir Thasmabebbi called a press conference at his headquarters in Gstaad to complain that "we Palestinians have been homeless for 130 years now and some of us are getting pretty sick and tired of it." Peace however, when He vowed to continue demanding that the Jews "go back where they came from" even if "it takes another 130 years." Meanwhile, new fighting broke out in Lebanon between the Moluccans, the Iraquis, the Druze and the Anglican Communion. Observers said some Lebanese might also be involved. To insure that lasting peace, President Hope said he was sending the latest U.S. "doomsday bombs" to Israel, Egypt, Libya, Saudi Arabia, the Palestine Terrorist Organization and "Crazy Idi" Biddi, the Mad Director of Uganda. "We feel strongly," the president said, nuts over "that once these trigger-happ- y there realize their enemies can blow up the world with a flick of a finger, they'll think twice before tfarting a war. At least, we sure hope so." 66 L moo Old stony in Mideast he explained. I TWUtr HE qrthur war Old fighting, on the other hand, broke out in the Knesset, where the opposition party accused Prime Minister Aygin of smoking pot, slurping his tea from a saucer and cheating on crossword puzzles. "With leaders like you," demanded one irate deputy, "what hopes do we have of ever achieving a lasting peace?" "Believe me," said Aygin, "the first 100 years are the hardest." (Copyright Chronicle Publishing Co. 1978) . - A ness ie fdf So there I was. My neck felt as if A Ibertimin it would snap, leaving my head to roll and bounce so silly along the sidewalk in front of the Salt Lake Temple while my cleanser-sellin- g compatriots stood the soft, subtle light catatonically staring at be seemed that to surrounding the group of Mormon missionaries hovering a few inches off the ground before us. And what's more, it had just been unmistakably proven that the Lord really was on their side. There was such a terrible silence and a stillness, and darkness was falling quickly. At any moment, a single shot could have rung out. But it didn't. We blocked the gate to the Temple grounds so that the missionaries could not fulfill the work of the Lord. It wasn't intentional. We didn't mean anything by it. We were frozen, like icy ghosts, unable to budge a single muscle, unable to do anything besides stand and wait for a message from the man above. He had us cold. His plan would be our plan. He might have been angry because we had taken advantage of some high school girls in their purest days or because we'd misled a teller at Walker Bank or because we'd pounded Nazi bones into calcium dust or because we weren't allowing His people into their Temple. Then, just as the atmosphere became exactly half dark and half light and the heavenly tension had reached critical levels, the message came through. "Hear ye the word of the Lord," a voice that sounded more like Bill Johnson of Menlove Dodge Toyota, the last of the little guys, than God, came out to us from inside the gate. "Go ye to Albertson's supermarket on 2nd South and 4th East where there are even now gentiles in need of spiritual sustenance. Go ye there and sing in the name of the Lord. Sing in praises of whose supermarket ye shall be in, but forget not the lowly produce manager, or the meat manager or the bakery manager. Sing with them in declaration of My supermarket. Sing now that your journey shall be blest. Sing. Sing." A few terrified glances. eyes looking as if they were being sucked back into their brains. Shivering. Low moaning. Chattering teeth and the slow, painful, deliberate beginnings of a song. I started, my frightened voice squeaking out gingerly, timid and wondering. "It's Joe Albertson's supermarket." Darkness had hidden everything. My tentative effort was slowly joined by others coming out of the black. "It's Joe Albertson's supermarket, but the produce department is mine." And then a heavenly chorus rising out of the void filled the atmosphere with the joyous voices of unlimited Mormon missionaries, cleanser salesmen and me singing with our hearts brimming, gusto flowing from our throats and eyes brilliant with happiness. "IT'S JOE ALBERTSON'S SUPERMARKET, BUT THE MEAT DEPARTMENT IS MINE!" It felt so good. Pure joy. The cleanser salesmen were getting something they really hadn't expected: ecstasy. We marched off along South Temple, joined in a massive moving tribute to truth. We were overwhelmed with bliss. It was all we could do to keep from creaming our respective shorts. "Wait for the next column," we thought in silence. DCHROMCLE Sez Who? Jeff Howrey Editor-inhi- "Someday we'll all look back on this and it will all seem funny Bruce Springsteen Cleanser-sellin- g e Kirk Johnson Associate Editor Mark Amott News Editor E.J. Nest Editorial Editor Barbara Rattle Entertainment Editor 99 Peter Keating layout Editor Jim Canidy Sports Editor Lynn Sugarman Photography Editor Blaine Millet Business Manager Jim Smedley Managing Editor Diane Cipy Editor n Bethann Butcher New Editor Assistant L" Gardner John Murray Shelley Weyforlh Marlha wickelhaut Srnior Jill Cook Julie Ann Heath Assistant Copy Editors |