Tuesday, July 3, 2012

WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN ALL MY LIFE?

Last week, after I got off the 801, faced down the evil bomb, and successfully navigated the treacherous torn-up sidewalk on Center Street in Provo, I squared my shoulders and set off to walk the remaining twelve blocks.  This is not as hard a task as I'm trying to make it sound.  Provo blocks are not as big as Salt Lake blocks, etc.; twelve blocks in Provo is barely more than a mile.  It was hot, and I was cranky.  I was able to convince myself that it was a bit further than it was.

Nevertheless, I did finally reach the block on which the friend I was going to visit lives.  And just as I was about to go around the corner to walk toward his house, another friend of mine who was on his way to the same party I was pulled up and said, "Do you want a ride for the last half block?"

I could only think of one thing to say.

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