Day 3
Driving
Occasionally in the course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to stay on the bus pritty much all day if they actually want to get to where they are going. This was one of those days. But a day like this has its simple pleasures. In one truck stop, we saw a Mobile Chapel. The Mobile Chapel was just that, and apparently drives about, putting up shop at a rest stop here and a gas station there, delivering the Word and any necessary absolvement to the world’s penitent truckers and bikers and other lost souls for whom a stationary chapel just won’t cut it. It’s all a matter of going to where the people are. A couple of our group went to see the Pastor, but unfortunately, before he could make time for them, we had to leave. The Pastor was a busy man. And so we continued our journey with only the occasional Bus Buddy to offer comfort.
Spending Money
Having been blessed with a goodly tax refund, I felt an American obligation to spend it, and so far I had spent practically nothing. But I knew my time had come when the strip mall we stopped at for dinner held a discount bookseller. I picked up a new journal, some Calvin and Hobbes, a book entitled C. S. Lewis on Love, and also a Madeleine L’Engle novel and a cd in case I really got bored. (One day of nothing to do did not and could never fill my boring quota. I have an impressive tolerance built up against boredom. Ask anybody—I’m as boring as they come.)
I mention this only because I will mention some of these books later, and besides, I would hate for you to think that I wasn’t doing my patriotic obligation of helping engorge the GDP.
Strip Mall Buffet
I like buffets because somewhere in the back of my mind I am convinced I am a camel who has outfitted my second hump to hold food instead of water. It’s merely the symptom of a more deeply seated problem, but I hold it as a dear, dear delusion.
As I was finishing up, a fellow sat himself next to me who was not only eighty-two years of age, but was insistently eighty-two years of age. I had not been prone to doubt him, but his overemphasis on the subject did inspire me with a bit of incredulity. He was a veteran of the armed forces and currently about to graduate from college once again (I forget which time this was—at least his fifth), this time in something to do with computer hardware. When he learned I was a displaced byucker, he was very excited. The man loves BYU. Why exactly, I’m not sure. Maybe he’s an alumnus (once or twice over).
Temple Dedication
Although earlier today we had passed within sight of the Kirtland Temple, tomorrow would be the day we actually met the building. However, we were provided with a good primer in temples by President Hinckley as we attended the Palmyra Temple dedication in Kirtland’s stake center. Kind of thrilling that was, experiencing a temple dedication in the area of this dispensation’s first ever temple dedication. In the words of that dedication’s prayer, “we ask . . . that all people who shall enter upon the threshold of the Lord’s house may feel thy power, and feel constrained to acknowledge that thou hast sanctified it, and that it is thy house, a place of thy holiness.” (D&C 109:10, 13)
Joseph Smith History
Speaking of Joseph Smith (which I’ll grant we weren’t exactly, but you can see the connection, right?), President Hinckley asked those attending the dedication to do some reading out of Joseph Smith History. Well, I tried, I really did. It took me three hours of mostly sleeping, but I did it that very night. I know I’ve already written elsewhere that the road to hell is paved with good intentions, but I hope that come Judgement Day, the needlepoint above the bar won’t mention this supposed road to hell, but will read along the lines of “It’s the thought that counts.” I’ll be in much better shape if that’s the case.
return to the table of contents
Thanks for revisiting Nauvoo with me. I would love to hear your thoughts.