JOHN VC

The fables of John Van Couvering

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Wine Not (Salt Lake City, Nov 2002)

August 7th, 2007 · No Comments

Am exploring the weird surface of the Mormoon, Brigham Young the Elder’s private planet, where the nation’s geologists are gathered for their annual parade of who can look the most pathetically out of it. Some swagger like Indiana Jones in their favorite field hats and boots — just stopped by between outcrops. Others are no-nonsense geo-executive in suit and tie. There are deep thinkers with ratty beards and untucked shirts, rock mamas in sensible dresses and field vests, and lab queens lookin good. My favorite is the Irresistable Genius with pointy beard, dramatic long hair, and tweed jacket, whose intense gaze bores holes through granite.

Salt Lake City has a surprising number of nice restaurants, some of which are even open on Sundays, never mind that ten minutes can go by without a car in sight on the wide main street here in the heart of downtown. (I am absolutely not kidding about this). While dining has gotten a little modern, you still have to buy your wine at the state liquor store, of which there are roughly one per 10 square miles. And while they can sell you all the wine you can carry they are, on the other hand, forbidden by law to sell you a corkscrew. I though this was an anti-liquor measure designed to make customers go away, but according to the salesperson it is a wise precaution to prevent folks from gulping down their purchases right there at the cash register. I had to walk 4 blocks to a Rite Aid, thank you Brigham.

The other thing they do in SLC is have baskets of big red plastic flags at midblock pedestrian crossings. You’re supposed to take a flag and wave it about as you cross, to alert the traffic that you are not committing suicide. It is pretty baffling at first if you’re from out of town — I thought it was an art happening. Then I noticed a group of people posing for a picture in mid-thoroughfare with flags hoisted high. They were falling down laughing, which is odd behavior for Utahans, who after scoring their bottle openers just plain fall down, but it turned out they were Brits who had just had it explained to them, and they explained it to me. We all thought it was silly but then none of us had ever been run over even once and we could take it lightly I suppose.

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