Scranton Welcomes You

Yes, we drove all the way to Scranton, Pennsylvania just to get a picture of the "Scranton Welcomes You" sign, as seen on the opening sequence of one of our favorite television shows, "The Office". The city of Scranton decided to move the sign from the highway to the food court at the Steamtown Mall to avoid all the traffic issues as The Office tourists stopped to snap some Scranton sign shots. This was fine though because it gave us an excuse to see the Victoria's Secret where Michael Scott took his female co-workers to shop. Sara wouldn't let me take any pictures of that. Zoe isn't a huge fan of The Office, as evidenced by her trying to squirm her way out of the pictures.

Scranton was the eastern extremity of our Mid-West voyage. After winding our way through the construction-laden streets of Electric City we began our westward trek back home, with many stops along the way. Driving through Pennsylvania we discovered that the mile marker signs are posted every one tenth of a mile. Does any other state do that? Whenever I'm driving and there's no conversating going on, my brain goes into calculating mode to keep myself awake. One of my favorite games is to use my speedometer and the second hand of my watch to predict when the next mile sign will show up. Thanks to the overzealous Pennsylvanian road workers, my game was rendered boring, and if it hadn't been for all the Led Zeppelin music flowing through the stereo I'd have fallen asleep and crashed into a mile marker. Thanks for all the embracing, Scranton.

Bedford, I mean, Seneca Falls

Film director Frank Capra visited the small town of Seneca Falls, New York in 1945. One year later he directed the greatest Christmas movie of all times, It's A Wonderful Life. Now check out this bridge right there in the middle of Seneca Falls...does that look familiar to any of you festive film fans? I'm pretty sure that George Bailey's hometown of Bedford Falls was based on Seneca Falls. I'm not alone in thinking that either, the town of Seneca Falls has an It's a Wonderful Life festival every December, and has actually named the roads in the area next to this bridge Bedford Falls Boulevard, Clarence Street, George Bailey Lane, and Angel Street. This is just the sort of thing that Sara and I would drive a few extra miles to see. I'm glad we did though because the Finger Lakes area is absolutely gorgeous and had we not taken this detour I don't think we'd have had the chance to explore the area. I would have jumped off the bridge, but my life insurance policy doesn't cover movie reenactments.

This one's just for you mom!

Ever since I was a young lad I remember my mom telling us that one of her dreams in life was to own a pink backhoe. When we happened to pass one on a little highway in the middle of the Finger Lakes region of upstate New York we slammed the brakes on and drove back just to take a few pictures. We would have bought it for you as a Christmas present, mom, but I didn't want to drive it all the way back to Utah; all those miles may have scratched the paint!

Low Bridge, Everybody Down!

I'm a huge fan of modern engineering marvels such as tall buildings, nutty bridges and the like. Some of the coolest feats of mankind's building prowess are the giant canals that link many of the major waterways of the world. Don't we all want to navigate our way through the Panama Canal, just to say that we have? Heck, I've watched more than one documentary about the building of the Panama Canal and I find them super interesting, plus I've seen Arsenic and Old Lace twice. Someday I'm gonna drag Sara out to the Red Sea and float the Suez to the Mediterranean, kinda like tubing the canal in Logan.

Naturally, when I noticed on our map that we'd be driving near the Erie Canal, I immediately began searching for some convenient spot that we could stop and snap a few canal pictures. The search was short since one of the cities passed through by said canal is Palmyra! I don't remember where I heard it for the first time, but there's always been a small fraction of my brain dedicated to singing the Erie Canal song. Only when singing a song about a donkey named Sal can you actually get in touch with the angst felt by the canaleers of yesteryear. If you have never heard this song before, here's your chance, go to the following link to listen to it as sung by America's sweetheart, Bruce Springsteen. You'll be glad you did. http://www.last.fm/music/Bruce+Springsteen/_/Erie+Canal

As Bruce said, the waters of the 363 mile Erie canal flow from Albany to Buffalo, thus connecting the Hudson river to Lake Erie. Construction of the canal was begun in 1817 and completed in 1825, so this means that while Joseph Smith was living in Palmyra the canal was being built right through town. Interesting. The canal is 40 feet across and only 4 feet deep, and the dirt removed was piled in short hills along the banks. Donkeys, often named Sal, would walk along the hills, hitched up to the small barges full of cargo, hauling goods from New York to the Great Lakes. My what a job that would be. I wonder how long it takes to float the entire height of Utah at donkey speed.

Grandin's Book Bindery

In downtown Palmyra, just a block or two from the Holy Intersection, is the building where E.B. Grandin published the first edition of the Book of Mormon. I spent a few years working as a Book of Mormon publisher in the church's book bindery in Salt Lake and at BYU. I got to set up the machines and run all the signatures through for the BOM editions in weird funky languages that no one's ever heard of. It was like the coolest job ever. I just had to stop into the Grandin building and check out their operation, you know, perhaps give Grandin a few pointers. All the machines looked really heavy and dirty, I certainly hope that E.B. wore his steel-toed boots. The place was packed to the gills with tour guides and missionaries so I had to jog through while Sara and Zoe waited in the car, but it was worth it. Did you know that in 2007 one of the original first edition Books of Mormon was auctioned off for 180,000 dollars?

This time, 200 years ago

I don't think I could build my own house, even if I had all the funky logs, rocks, and mud that I could possibly need. Sara and I just got done watching the entire series of Little House on the Prairie, and boy could those guys build a house. They'd work out in the field all day, cut several trees into planks at Hansen's mill, drive many barrels to Sleepy Eye in the wagon, search for some frost bitten child and then come home just in time to build a kitchen. I, on the other hand, usually get home from ten hours of sitting on my rump looking at a glowing rectangle, and then whine because I have to lean over to pick up my shoes before I go to bed. Joseph Smith, on the other hand was a rustique farmer guy who was born in a log house that he built with his own hands, a replica of which is pictured with Sara above. The other picture is of Zoe perched upon her dad next to the little fenced-off square that is the actual locale of young Joseph's original log cabin. Why didn't they build the replica on the original square? Weird. So you know all those movies of Joseph Smith taking like a 20 minute walk to the Sacred Grove? That's just not true because the grove is right next to his house (or I should say his fenced-off square). I imagine Lucy Mack had to spend a lot of time trying to get all the sacred mice out of the kitchen.

So Joseph Smith was born in 1805 and lived until 1844. That was a super long time ago. He was 23 years dead before Laura Ingalls was even born. To put it into further perspective, the year Joseph was born, Napolean was still running around europe stealing stuff, Beethoven wasn't completely deaf yet, and Thomas Jefferson was president of the United States. Living in a tiny log cabin would pretty much be camping out your entire life, and I just couldn't live like that. Perhaps if I were typing this blog back in the 1810s I would feel differently since I wouldn't know the luxury of the oncoming century, but still I'm sure I'd be hoping that my kids would be able to graduate from wagon to station wagon and from pumping to plumbing.

When Turtles Attack!

The best way to describe Sara's experience in the Sacred Grove is by typing the statement she made as we were leaving, "How could he have possibly prayed in here, this place is teaming with vicious beasts!" She's exactly right, if you consider prancing deer vicious beasts. As we were meandering down the trail we heard a thunderous noise coming towards us, accompanied by the cracking sound of wood snapping. I'm sure the fear for Sara was not unlike that felt by the islanders on LOST as the smoke monster approaches, leaving uprooted trees in its wake. There must have been a dozen deer that came zipping across the path about ten feet ahead of us, and I gotta tell ya', those things are loud when they're in a hurry. Sara claims she was actually afraid of the wolf that was likely giving these deer chase. I don't believe her, mostly because she's afraid of any non-human that can't use a litter box, as evidenced by the following list of critters that have caused her to dig her claws into my arm since we moved to Wisconsin:

• The Hell Squirrel - One day I got home from church and Sara had her arms in her nervous stance (hands clasped together on her chest), she shreiked to me that there was some sort of giant rodent hooked to the screen door and trying to get in. Sure enough, there was a very angry squirrel clasped onto the door. I did what any good husband would do, and got the video camera out to film Sara's squaks and shudders every time the squirrel moved. This rodent problem was eventually solved with a water gun.


• The Mysterious Badger Possum - We were driving around late at night testing out our new stereo thingy when a dog-sized rodent creature came out of the bushes, looked at us with its glowing eyes, then scampered back in. Sara is still 100% sure that it was a blood-thirsty nocturnal badger-dog-possum and always drives a little faster by those bushes. The rat of the Baskervilles.
  
• The Snapping Turtle - A few days ago Sara and Zoe were floating about by the edge of the pool when they looked up to see an "enormous snapping turtle that tried to eat us". This one reminds me a lot of that rabid swimming bunny that attacked Jimmy Carter. It hissed and snapped at them and was fast as lightning. Fortunately there was a man there with a long stick that nudged the turtle into the bushes. This one is actually legit, I saw animal control wrangling the prehistoric beast into a sack a few days later and a few blocks away. We looked this sucker up, and here's a picture of the Alligator Snapping Turtle, certainly not a cuddly creature.


• The Skunk Ape - On a cold wintery day (one of 300 per year) we were driving next to the forest by the Middle School when we saw a two-legged creature walking through the bushes. It was tall and walking very slowly. We were sure we had seen Bigfoot. A few moments later we nearly ran bigfoot over as this super genius middle schooler walked out of the forest and tried to cross the street in front of our car. Moron.

Farewell to the King of Pop

Its not very often that news happens during work hours that causes a wave of discussion from one end of the cubicles to the other. When the rumours that Michael Jackson had died today finally reached Milwaukee, even the most introverted of consultants emerged from their calculation caves to hear more. Let's face it, Michael Jackson was a pretty odd duck, but no one out there can say he was without talent. Votes didn't even need to be counted, everyone knows he's the King of Pop; a title never once considered for the Mickey Mouse Club taintees or the no-skill hacks fronting the boy bands of the previous decade (thank goodness those days are ending). I'll never forget the first time I saw a recording of him dancing and singing on stage to Billy Jean, and I realized that this is the best entertainer the world may ever have. It frustrates me so much when all a person can say is that he was a sicko or strange...not that he wasn't...but I wish people would remember that if it weren't for Michael Jackson we'd have no moon walk! I submit that the best way to measure the closed mindedness of a person is to ask his or her opinion of Michael Jackson.
Here's my list of Michael Jackson memories, fellow Jackson fans can leave a comment with one of their own:

• Driving to Bear Lake in Bishop Stahle's van, listening to Michael's Greatest Hits CD (the one with the golden statue on the front) the entire way there.
• Staying up all night with my sister in my parents' basement watching all of VH1's top 100 music videos of all time, knowing from the beginning that number one must be Thriller. If you've never seen Jackson dance in that video, you are not a true American.
• Blasting"Don't Stop 'til You Get Enough" and "The Way You Make Me Feel" while we drove through Vegas on Sara and I's first road trip together. The man made some incredible road trip music.
• Seeing the actual diamond-encrusted white glove used by Michael Jackson at the Rock'n'Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland. They also had that red jacket there, and the wolf mask he used to film the Thriller video. We spent like 15 minutes staring at that stuff, some of the sacred rock relics of our generation.
• Being forced to rehearse and sing "Heal the World" in 5th grade music class. All the other kids hated that song, but I really liked it. Its one of the few songs out there that I've never forgotten the words to.

Check out Michael Jackson's patent http://v3.espacenet.com/publicationDetails/biblio?CC=US&NR=5255452&KC=&FT=E

Sacred Sticks

After our hour or so on the Hill Cumorah we were on our way to the Sacred Grove. That's when we got some horrible news...there was an overwhelming need to stop in the visitors center to use the bathroom. We carry an empty bottle in the car for situations like this, but that just wasn't going to cut it this time. We had a game plan to get in and out as fast as possible, but that joint had no back door, so we got stuck following the "cute" old missionaries into the room where we were subjected to all sorts of multi-media presentations about stuff we already knew. Kudos to the missionaries that run the visitors centers in these middle-of-nowhere towns, they really are doing good work out there and I should be more grateful, but I'm quite itinerant while car-tripping and if it ain't puttin' miles behind us, then I ain't doing it.

The Sacred Grove is a short drive away from the Hill Cumorah and the exact size I expected it to be. As you can see in the pictures, the leaves hadn't come out yet, so it just wasn't quite the same as in all the movies. Zoe didn't mind though, the grove was full of her favorite toys; sticks. She wasn't happy until she had dug around in the dirt with every stick in sight. Meanwhile, Sara and I spent many harrowing minutes trying to get her to look at the camera while we took a picture. Perhaps we should have attached the camera to a stick. I imagine this place is gorgeous with foliage.

Hangin' with Moroni on the Hill

Here are a few more pictures of the monument atop our favorite little New York hill. Ya know, the funny thing that I think most of us Westerners don't understand when we try to picture these historic events is the volume of trees in the non-desert portion of our country. I always imagined Joseph Smith out there trippin' over gigantic rocks on a green grassy hill. I never really considered that the Hill Cumorah was every bit as forested as the Sacred Grove just down the street. The clearing you see in the picture in the post below this one was made in order to put on the Hill Cumorah pageant. I'm sure the pageant is lovely, but we didn't have the time or the patience to wait around a couple more weeks for it to get started.

Like I mentioned in the last posting, after our long car ride, Zoe had more wiggles in her than a bucket of worms. It took every ounce of strength we had to keep her from running head first over the hill. Instead we set her loose by the monument and she climbed every stair in site. It was as if the Church knew that there'd be thousands of wiggly kids stopping here that would need ample stairs to ascend, descend, repeat.

Come to Cumorah!

This is the Hill Cumorah, the site where Joseph Smith found the Golden Plates (which lay hidden deep in the mountain side). This has gotta be a strange thing to come across for those that don't know much about the Latter-day Saint movement. There you are driving along the highway looking at all the greenery and the occasional hill and all of the sudden there's a clearing and a giant golden trumpeter atop a stone pedestal. Sara and I, being lovers of roadside attractions, would definitely stop and see it. And we did. There's a little road that takes you all the way up the hill and a parking lot right next to the monument, which saved us from all that hill climbing exercise. I chased Zoe around as she worked out 4 hours of wiggles, while Sara made us some trunk sandwiches.

Our time spent on that hill was phenomenal for me. I'm not really the sort of guy that goes to a place like this with any expectations of being overcome by the spirit, I think that for this reason when it does happen it means a lot to me. Boy did I feel the spirit on this hill. I don't want to confuse the peace and serenity of wide open spaces with the spiritual residue of miraculous past events, but there truly was something special felt there. The hour we spent on that hill was a great and needed reminder that the heavens truly are still open and modern-day revelation is alive and well. My left brain is gigantic and often performs lengthy audits on my right brain, which causes me to take far too many long looks at how nutty the whole Joseph Smith and the Golden Plates story actually is. At the same time though, logic tells me that a God that personally guided His children in the past must continue to do so now. I know that the events that ocurred on this hill actually happened because I've had hundreds of spiritual confirmations that prove to me that they did. I am so glad we spent some time on the Hill Cumorah.

By the way, I love how Zoe's monkey back pack fits so well into our family pictures. The picture up there is probably the only one ever taken with all four of us looking at the camera.

Palmyra via Buffalo

Sara finally dragged (drug?) me away from Niagara Falls and we hit the road to our next exciting road trip destination. The freeway led us through the city of Buffalo, New York, which smelled nothing like hot wings, and a lot like horror on the highway. I know I shouldn't judge an entire run-down town by the driving skills of its denizens, but honestly, it was scary. And the strange thing about it is that all the bad drivers were skinny girls with black hair and sun glasses. All of them. Perhaps they were flocking to some central locale so they could dance by the light of the moon.

Our final destination of the day was Hershey, Pennsylvania, but we made a few stops along the way. One of them that ended up being a lot neater, and very much more picturesque than we thought it would be, was Palmyra, New York and vicinity. Yep, by picturesque, I mean lots of blog postings. Of course, the main reason we made Palmyra a rest stop is because of the huge amount of Mormon history that happened there, but it ends up that there's a few other cool things in Palmyra, such as the holy intersection. According to wikipedia, which I recently heard on NPR is the main research tool used by God Himself, the said intersection is the only crossing of two highways in the world with an operating church on each corner. There's a close runner-up in Edinburg, Scotland, but one of those churches is no longer being used. Above is a picture of Zoe and I at a sign paying hommage to this zoning triumph. I also figured I'd throw a picture of the LDS temple in here as well. The best thing about this, the Church's 77th temple is the cool stained glass windows, which we never saw since we didn't get outta the car. We did get a good look at the window copies they have at the visitors center though, and wowsers, they's neat.