I’m in Salt Lake City now, a beautiful city in a beautiful state, in a hotel at Temple Square, where the Mormon Temple is. And, folks, that’s a pretty beautiful place, too. I’m working here in a movie called “The Bagboy”, written and directed by Mort Nathan, and I’m telling you because I think it could be a terrific movie. It stars Dennis Farina, who just might be the coolest guy in the world (or third, behind you and me).
But the reason I wanted to write this is to tell you about Temple Square.
It’s a very moving place to be.
What is it about human nature that makes so many of us enjoy being intolerant and cynical?
The path of the Mormon pioneers, thousands of whom couldn’t afford wagons and walked from Iowa City to here with their belongings in handcarts (thus the name on the monument) is as dramatic as any journey Jews or other Christian groups, or anyone, has taken. It’s filled with faith and strength and sorrow and joy. And hope; always hope. In other words, it’s very American.
Perhaps someday more of us can learn to see that first instead of looking askance at what people believe, or the way they believe it.
Really quite a place, if you ever get here. I’m waiting for a call time for tomorrow, but if I have a later one, I think I just might walk over to Temple Square again to see that monument.
Unless, of course, it’s raining. Or colder than forty. Even a little breezy. Then I’ll just wait for the van to pick me up and go to work. What? Don’t look at me that way.
Isn’t that just like us? All of our ancestors, no matter what our backgrounds, came here with a penknife and a hat, and ate their way through trees to find a place to build.
And this is one of them.
All of our families, all over the country, figuratively and literally, walked with carts so that we don’t have to; and every so often we should look at the monuments that were put up to them.
Okay, okay, maybe colder than thirty. Anything down to thirty I’ll go. All right, twenty. What the heck, I’ve got a scarf and a coat. Yeah, twenty. Anything down to twenty, I’ll go.
‘Course, I’ve got to hit the treadmill first, and then the breakfast thing closes at 10:30… Whew, man, I don’t know. We’ll see, but, you know how mornings fly by.
Okay, no kidding, seriously, they just called — at this second, as I’m writing this — to say the call times were changed. No monuments for me tomorrow. Right in the van, early.
Better put the scarf and hat on, though. Well, you know, that walk from the door to the curb is ten feet if it’s an inch. Might be chilly.
LARRY M. 12/10
