Northern Arizona, a couple summers ago. What a relief it was to drive away from 7000 feet and snow and head down and north to Snowflake AZ. Certain things gave me a chuckle, like "Alaska Oil" gas stations and "Our Lady of the Snow" Catholic church.
After driving only fifteen miles it seemed like a different state. Northeastern Arizona is a strange combination of LDS (Mormon) towns, Indian reservations and fossilized trees.
I thought of the joke that ended the movie, "Raising Arizona." It was nice to be back in "greater Utah" in some ways. Nobody could lay out a town like Brigham Young. I chose one of those wide streets and pulled a U-turn, just because I could.
Once I asked a couple men of good taste which state had the best looking women. We all agreed: Utah. They exude wholesomeness, an underrated quality in a society saturated with media smut.
There was another wholesomeness that you can appreciate best when you compare it to most of the Southwest, where museums and "history" celebrate the cheesy Hollywood version of the old West: gunslingers, gamblers and saloon girls. Doc Holliday slept here, Billie the Kid was born there...
But in Snowflake I saw the Pioneer House; every LDS town has one. They might be over-restored, but it's nice to see a culture memorialize a builder instead of a derelict.
After driving only fifteen miles it seemed like a different state. Northeastern Arizona is a strange combination of LDS (Mormon) towns, Indian reservations and fossilized trees.
I thought of the joke that ended the movie, "Raising Arizona." It was nice to be back in "greater Utah" in some ways. Nobody could lay out a town like Brigham Young. I chose one of those wide streets and pulled a U-turn, just because I could.
Once I asked a couple men of good taste which state had the best looking women. We all agreed: Utah. They exude wholesomeness, an underrated quality in a society saturated with media smut.
There was another wholesomeness that you can appreciate best when you compare it to most of the Southwest, where museums and "history" celebrate the cheesy Hollywood version of the old West: gunslingers, gamblers and saloon girls. Doc Holliday slept here, Billie the Kid was born there...
But in Snowflake I saw the Pioneer House; every LDS town has one. They might be over-restored, but it's nice to see a culture memorialize a builder instead of a derelict.
There was one coffee shop in this close-knit LDS town. It had a wholesome name so that it wouldn't look so depraved. (Caffeinated beverages are not allowed for Mormons.) It would be interesting to see a remake of the movie, "Chocolat," with a sensual Juliette Binoche running a coffee shop in a town like this.
By good luck the town was having a festival this weekend, featuring horsey stuff and a pit bull competition. I like just about any dog show in which any breed of dog does anything other than walk around in high heels and a swimsuit.
The sled-pulling competition was entertaining. Some of the dogs were as stoic and ritualistic as sumu wrestlers. Some resembled Russian weight lifters. Some showed teeth during the tug. Others focused on their owners who yelled, "Work, work, work." Why didn't I pay more attention to their names? If one of them had been named "Cupcake" I probably would have noticed.
The sinew of cyno-muscle strained mightily. I felt sorry for the nylon harness! It was easy to imagine all of that fiber groaning and screeching like the metal hulls of ships or submarines in movies when the ship is about to head to the bottom.
And now for one last, heroic tug...arrrrgh...uuuggghh!
The crowd roared, children squealed with delight, women swooned, but my little poodle squirmed uncomfortably.
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