Tuesday morning I awoke to temps in the 20s and eight hours later stepped into 70-degree sunshine. This is not a tough adjustment to make. Then things veered off into “we’re not in Kansas anymore” territory.
Such as when our hotel desk clerk, a pleasant-enough fellow who innocently inquired about the reason for our visit, decided to share a few anecdotes from what he was certain was a life of comedy. At the end of our conversation, he asked for a business card. His life, he said, was filled with stories worth preserving. The guy couldn’t have been older than thirty.
Later, Becky and I set out on foot to explore Salt Lake City. A half a mile from our hotel, Becky and I stumbled into Temple Square, Mecca for practicing Mormons. It’s a 36-acre spotless urban campus surrounded by a twelve-foot stone wall. Immediately we were welcomed by Elder Johnson, a church member who gave us an overview of all the glory of the Mormon faith waiting to be discovered inside its walls. Two of our young mission sisters will be more than happy to walk you around and explain things to you, he said. We thanked Elder Johnson for his kindness and said we’d prefer to explore on our own. The imposing tabernacle just ahead of us was locked tightly as its famed choir was inside recording. The temple, behind the tabernacle, was an imposing structure and equally as secure from outside intrusion. We did visit one of two visitor’s centers on campus where another church elder explained the model of Jerusalem at 33 A.D. At that point, two mission sisters made our acquaintance and their questions, along with their vacant stare and waxy smiles, left Becky and I feeling a bit uneasy. We thanked them for their offer for a tour, then left Temple Square quickly in search of dinner, and perhaps, libation.
We knew alcohol was a possibility in Salt Lake City because we’d passed a half dozen “social clubs” on our way toward Temple Square. What we hadn’t realized, of course, was that if there was any way to peg yourself as an tourist in Salt Lake City, it was your interest in the wine menu.
Before settling on a nice restaurant that served southwestern cuisine, and wine and beer, we peeked inside another restaurant where the majority of diners had carafes of milk on their tables. Becky chose a Corona and I, a Pino Grigio. A drink with dinner seems innocent enough, except in Utah where alcohol consumption is clearly the exception. And lest you think I exaggerate, I give you this: Upon ordering a second drink, our server informed us that Utah law prohibited her from setting that second libation on our table until the glass holding the first serving was completely gone. If you still have some left, she said, I have to stand and hold the drink until you finish. Believe me, I was tempted to see how long I could keep her at my table.
This is a model of Jerusalem as it appeared in 33 A.D.
This is the Mormon Tabernacle, home to the famed Mormon Tabernacle Choir. The building is 135 years old and houses a massive, 11,623-pipe organ. Choir practice is typically open to the public, but not this week, as the choir is recording.
This is Salt Lake Temple, spiritual home to this capital city's Mormon community. No tours here, ever. 
1 comment:
Waxy smiles....... hmmm scary. Thank goodness for libation.
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