Happy Pioneer Day, everyone! What is that, you ask? You don't get the day off from your daily labors? I'm sorry to hear that. Next time, try living in a state that commemorates the Mormon pioneers' westward exodus. I don't think I even knew about this holiday before I moved out here. It's definitely bigger than Independence Day. I would like to see Will Smith in a blockbuster about traveling west in a handcart, but racing aliens to get there or something. Wouldn't you? You know you would pay to see that, too. That's the magic of Pioneer Day. I think. Or so I'm told.
Went swimming last night in my apartment's vast first-floor pool complex, with some friends who wanted to see it and go swimming there. So, "swimming" is a strong word, I admit. My feet got wet, anyway. While we were there I was drawn to reviewing the pros and cons of living at my apartment complex. A huge pro is that everyone here is way nicer than anywhere else I've lived. Everywhere else, people walk right by you without even looking at you, no matter how much you go out of your way to make eye contact. It is anathema to those people.
Not so, here: everyone I run into not only says "hi" but tries to start a conversation with you. The first couple times this happened to me, I was genuinely confused. Had this guy just moved in? Why won't he respect the sanctity of my urban solitude? But, being from the good ol' Midwest, that wall quickly came tumbling down. I love it, and I never want to leave, not until the exact moment a better offer presents itself.
Guys, yesterday the unthinkable happened. I poured my cereal from a new box and a toy fell out. It was Trix. It was a promotional toy for Despicable Me 2. But it was magnificent. It happened just the way they show it on TV: serendipitously, falling into my bowl like a magnificent limited-edition marshmallow would be, shining for all the world to see. That's when I knew. That's when I knew the world still had hope and a fighting chance. Happy Pioneer Day!
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