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Show "You drilled out my box?" That's what they did. Drilled out my box, inventoried the entire contents, stuck them in a plastic bag and stored it in the safe. "Why didn't anybody call?" I asked. They claimed that they sent me three certified letters. I never got a thing. I explained the previous mistake by the bank, even described the cancelled check, but it wasn't until I went home, found the check for a second time and returned to Zions did anybody consider the possibility that the mistake was theirs, not mine. "OK," I said. "I've shown you the cancelled check Now I want to see the postal receipts you must surely have received from the certified letters. I never heard from them again. I did learn later that the 'certified letters' are generated by computer in Salt Lake City and that no one in the Moab office really had anything personally to do with such matters anymore. Which is just pitiful What's the advantage of living in a small town if you eliminate all human contact? I took my bag of valuables (they insisted on keeping a copy of the itemized list) and I gpt a deposit box at another bank And, in a way, I guess I was lucky. I never did put my treasured pictures of the tattooed lady from Waukeegan in there. Would my face have been red. CHIPSEALING We are supposed to be a tourist town and as such, it is our responsibility to cater to the traveling tourist There is scarcely a bigger month of the year for tourists than August So we should be doing everything we possibly can to make their visit to our fine state a pleasurable one. Right? So every August the Utah Department of Transportation (UDOT) rolls out its heavy equipment and thousands of tons of hot tar and gravel and blocks every goddamned major highway in the state. They have chipsealed the roads in this state so many times, I am amazed that the many layers haven't raised the roadbed to a height several feet above the surrounding countryside. I had plenty of time this summer to examine the existing roadbed; sometimes the delays were 30 or 40 minutes. I could get down on my hands and knees and carefully scrutinize the macadam, look for telltale cracks and crevices, for any sign of road decay that might justify these ridiculous delays. Nothing. Now I am no asphalt expert (for which I am eternally grateful to the Great Hairy Thunderer), but it seems to me that there can be no explanation other than the fact that UDOT needs something to do to justify its inflated budget. We sure as hell don't want to spend tax dollars on anything frivolous like education. So let's spend it on tar. RUMORMONGERS & THE PEOPLE WHO LISTEN TO THEM This town is fueled by rumor and innuendo. And it's just a handful of people, really, who start most of these ugly stories and take pleasure in spreading them. They could start a small club the Lee Harvey Oswald School of Character Assassination. If you are a Moabite, and you're reading this, the chances are we're thinking about the same miserable little group of gossips. And there isn't anything that anyone can do to change them. It must be awful to have such wretched little lives that all they can do with their time is try to hurt or discredit others. So, if anything, I pity them. But it's the people that hear these rumors and then, without much conviction one way or the other, pass them along that trouble me. They particularly trouble me when they is me. I'm as guilty as anyone else, but I'm tiying to do better. City Manager Donna Metzler, who has taken more than her share of abuse in the last couple of years, has a quote taped to her office door. It's by Edmund Burke and it reads: "The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing." Benign acceptance of poor behavior is, to me, almost as intolerable as poor behavior. The next time we hear the vitriol start to flow, let's suggest they go watch a nice sunset Or do something that's physically impossible. What a range of possibilities. MOTORHOMES I have never liked motorhomes. It seems to me they've been around for about 25 years now, at least in numbers great enough to make them annoying to the likes of me. They're WRITERS too big. Too Blow. And they're ugly. But in the last few years recreational vehicles have taken a gruesome turn for the worse (as if that were possible). It used to be that the average motorhome was a Winnebago-typmaybe 25 to 30 feet in length, with the basic amenities. The cost to buy one of these metal monsters was ridiculously high and may have been obscenely costly, but we really didn't understand the meaning of the word 'obscene.' Until now. In the mid-90- s, I began to observe in ever growing numbers, huge motorhomes, 45 or 50 feet in length, looking like converted Greyhound buses, with satellite dishes on the roof, and jacuzzis.. J've never seen the interior of one of these palaces on wheels. I don't want to. I've heard that motorhomes of this genre sell for half a million bucks. And strapped to the rear bumper is a sport utility vehicle, usually a $40,000 Ford Explorer. Where do people get this kind of money? As I said earlier, many of these unholy bus drivers are retired couples and some of them have sold the family home and live out of their KVs. Just as many keep these monstrosities in the back yard most of the year. But I don't want to get into the long range implications of motorhomes and what they mean to our decaying culture. Forget all that I have only one message that I want to convey to motorhome owners across the land: If you can't go the speed limit, get off the damn road! Yeesh. The major highways of our great republic have safe pullouts every mile or so; traffic starts to back up behind you.. PULL OVER. Don't make things worse for if yourselves. You're embarrassing enough just to look at. Don't be annoying as welL In advance, let me thank you for your cooperation. e, BRUCE BABBITT The Secretary of the Interior announced this year that there are too many cars in national parks, but there can never be too many people. He says "too many people" are not the problem. If that's true, why does it take a year's wait to get a permit to camp at the bottom of the Grand Canyon? Why is Arches National Park's Fiery Furnace now closed to the public except by permit? Come on, Bruce. Pull your head out of the sand. MY ROAD RAGE this, it occurs to me that much of what I am complaining about has to do with driving and the delays that slow my forward progress. I've got to calm down. Or find a place where the traffic is lighter. I wonder what it's like in Wog Wog right now. And at least I don't live in Salt Lake City. Re-readi- ng I'm out of space and there is still so much that's lame: Homophobes at BYU and in the Nebo School District. Congressman Hansen. St. George's proposed water pipeline from Lake PowelL...WeTl never run out of material Desiree to Planet Earth... 254 WALUS UNIT D EUGENE, OR 97402 345-433- 8 We're a wholesale bakery featuring whole and our new spelt breads grain, multi-grai- n made from organically grown flours. If you're in Eugene or on the Oregon coast, look for us at any of the natural food stores and at some supermarkets. (Our breads ship well too.) Give us a call if you're interested in some of the best bread in the West. (541) 345-433- of the 8 WEST THE FIELD GUIDE TO EXTRATERRESTRIALS By Patrick Huyghe CLASS: Humanoid DATE: October 25, 1974 LOCATION: Rawlins, WY Carl Higdon, a oil driller in his early 40s, was elk hunting on the northern boundary of the Medicine Bow National Forest when he spotted five elk and fired at the bull. But the bullet "went only about 50 feet and dropped" as if it had struck a wall. When Higdon heard a twig snap, he turned to see a humanlike figure in the shadow of a nearby tree. The "man" was bowlegged, stood about six feet two and weighed about 180 pounds JFhe "man" called himself Ausso and offered Higdon a packet of four pills. Ausso claimed they satisfied one's hunger for four days. Higdon took one, though ordinarily he never even took aspirin. Ausso then invited Higdon to come along and he accepted. When Ausso pointed his right arm, Higdon suddenly found himself inside a transparent cubicle, strapped to a chair and wearing a helmet... When Ausso pointed his arms at the controls, the cubicle began moving and he saw earth receding below him. Moments later they landed on a dark planet that Ausso said was 163,000 light years away. Outside the cubicle was a huge tower with a bright rotating light, making a sound like an electric razor. Standing in the nearby plaza were what looked like five humans in conversation two blond teenage girls, one teenage boy, a slightly younger girl, and a gray-hairman of 40 or 50. When Ausso pointed his aim again, Higdon found himself in a room inside the tower. A shieldlike device came ed out of the wall, then retracted. Ausso then told Higdon that he was not what they needed and regretfully returned his rifle... Higdon then found himself on a rocky slope back on Earth, where he fell and injured himself. About two and a half hours had passed.. A nearly identical armed being was observed by an eight year old boy in Wales in July of 1976. From BACK of BEYOND BOOKS at 83 North Main Strut in Moab (801)229-515-1 |
