How To Drive in Utah

A wise traveller is open-minded and alert for local laws and cultural nuance. First-time visitors to Utah will be immediately struck by the scenic vistas. Sadly however, while soaking in the unique landscape, those same visitors are at risk of also being struck by a Utahn making his or her way to work or Temple. Here are a few tips to make your visit to Utah as safe as possible.

Lane Usage
While most places in the Western Hemisphere reserve the left-hand lane for faster-moving traffic, Utah operates under a first-come, first-serve policy. Occupants of any lane may travel at any speed. The strategy behind switching lanes may vary from one driver to the next. While some drivers may chose to vary speeds within the same lane at their own discretion, others may prefer to make abrupt moves to the left to slow down or block faster-moving traffic.

Faster drivers should also take note that passing on the left is considered insulting and will be met with by an immediate increase in speed by the driver being passed. This is especially common as two lanes merge. For best results drivers are expected to pass on the right, then move left and slow down again.

Multitasking
Utah drivers are sophisticated, free-thinking individuals. Visitors will be impressed with Utahns' ability to adroitly manage several tasks and thought-processes at once. While operating a moving vehicle in Utah, you may be expected to talk on the phone, drink coffee, read a book, write a term paper, conceive a child, practice origami, perform a circumcision, and scan Utah radio for your favorite top40, country or religious rock station all at once. However, for safety's sake, while using the phone, be sure to use a hands-free device to allow maximum freedom of gesticulation.

As your dexterity increases, you may be able to increase your efficiency while driving. Seasoned veterans of Utah's driving customs are clearly visible as their speed will vary wildly above and below the designated speed limit. They might also make seemingly awkward lateral movements, utilizing every possible inch of their lane while borrowing several from the adjacent ones. Although these skills are not easily acquired, beginners may find it useful to buy a vehicle that far exceeds their particular size requirements, and decreases their line of site. That way, other drivers are sure to recognize your commitment to the Utah way.

Intersections
Traffic lights govern the right of way at an intersection. Red means stop. Green means proceed. Yellow indicates the the light will soon be red. Therefore, when a light turns yellow, it is your obligation to accelerate sharply so that you and the line of traffic behind you may continue without the inconvenience of stopping. Remember, True Utahns drive excessively large vehicles which require more time to stop and more fuel to get back up to speed. Slowing down at a yellow or even some red lights will immediately expose you as a foreigner who must be passed immediately.

U-Turns
The unique width of Utah roads are a historical phenomenon. Utah roads were designed by migrating Mormons who required roads wide enough to turn an entire heard of cattle around at any juncture. Indecisive Utahns still make common practice of this technique. The "Utah Turn" (or "U-turn" for short) is perfectly acceptable on any road at any time. Utahns have petitioned short-sighted car manufacturers in vein to add a second turn signal specifically for U-turns. So be aware that by entering the state's borders, you have been given a gift from its very founders.

Congestion
Busy Utah highways experience added congestion due to a lack of night life. Most Utahns access the same commute at precisely the same time. Therefore, it is often necessary to provide relief to gentle and predictable ebb and flow of steady moving traffic by violently applying your brakes for no apparent reason. Commuters behind you will appreciate this form of stimulation, especially if it serves as a warning that there is construction, or a police officer ahead.

It may also be useful to ride within several inches of the car in front of you. Not only will this solidfy your reputation as a masterful Utah driver, but you will be able to avoid the annoyance of allowing other commuters to change lanes on your watch. Should the car in front of you decide to slow down, wait until the last possible moment before forcefully applying your brakes. This will create a desirable tsunami effect of panick-branking behind you, making you the life of the commuter party.

The Middle Lane
Many busy Utah roads are quipped with a middle lane for turning across traffic. At any time this lane service traffic from 4 different directions. When turning off a busy street, be sure to cut across the 2-4 lanes of oncoming traffic at the least opportune time. Other drivers will appreciate being kept alert. Pulling ONTO a busy street requires traffic to be momentarily clear from only one side. Do no expect the far side to be clear when pulling out. To expedite the process, pull out while the far side is at capacity and merge blindly into fast-moving traffic. The faster the better. You will not be met with assertive opposition. Utahns elect to have their factory-installed horns removed to acheive a seemingly more polite and society. Instead, you will most-likely encounter a more passive-agressive form of disapproval: being passed on the right.

For more tips on driving in Utah, see local accident reports or call an LDS representative for hands-on advice. Good luck and happy U-turning.

Finally

Well, the day finally came. And in an instant, it passed. The weather was gorgeous, the ceremony was flawless, and the reception was shameless. A good time was had by all...We hope. Our sincere thanks to everyone who came and/or contributed to our wonderful time. We love you all.

The entire trip home was surreal. We dropped the dogs off with a sitter in Salt Lake and flew into Boston on the 20th. On the approach to Logan, reality set in as we reflected on so many fond memories of Boston. We dropped off our luggage at the Myers' condo, downtown and headed out to Newton for a Medina Sod show. We entered a bar full of friendly faces, which was overwhelming. Liz and Dave showed up and even gave us a ride home, but not without a stop at Stevie's for a greasy slice of late-night pizza.

The next morning we met up with Joe's folks at the MFA for the Ansel Adams exhibit. His work captures the romantic side of wilderness, reminding us why we moved out to Utah in the first place. Later we met up with Tim and Erin for an afternoon around town and some trivia in Harvard Square. Shellie even came out for a bit.

The trip to Maine was nostalgic. Joe's parents lent us a car to get around for the week. We arrived in Kennebunk at Sarah's Grandmother's house and were treated to a series of epic family gatherings. Grandma Anastasia and Grandpa Richard played such gracious hosts the entire week. Uncle Rod and Aunt Marcia flew in from Colorado, Aunt Gretchen and Uncle Joe came down and helped every step of the way.

Sarah’s parents, Patty and Gary stayed calm despite the mounting momentum toward a culmination of a year’s planning and 27 years of hopeful good intentions. They might tell you that raising a good girl is a lifetime of love and hard work. Raising a best friend however, is an equal partnership of respect and trust, and a masterful effort at that.

Anyway, despite the best efforts of its occupants, a full house of adults sharing one bathroom is bound to foster a certain level of chaos. In fact, the common morning joke was that you had to wait in line to use the back yard. Sarah’s friend Carrie came down from Bethel to help with preparations and planned a wonderful “girls’ day” at the beach with Alison and Tera.

Meanwhile, Joe stayed occupied during the week making trips to see his brother Jim, Sister-in-law Abby, and 3-year-old nephew Jimmy Junior. For little Jimmy’s birthday, Joe went to his parents’ house in Epping, NH, to fix up his old scooter. No accounting for craftsmanship, little Jimmy lit up with appreciation anyway. Joe also snuck out of the "hen house" for 2 rounds of golf and 2 kayak trips with Gary and Uncle Joe during the hectic week.

On Thursday we attended a dance lesson in Portland with Carrie, Patty, Gary, and our ceremony official and family friend, Annie Gregory. We didn’t learn to "dance" per se, but it was enough to pass the mustard for our “first dance” on Saturday. Friday, we checked into our honeymoon suite at The Beach House before the big Lobster Bake. Grandma gathered friends and family at the house for dinner and drinks. Of course, the crowd being made up of jokers and partiers, the mood was soon raucous. It was well after dark before we could organize a rehearsal down on the beach. Stumbling around the rocky shore with keg cups in hand, we each tried to gather essential information about the following day’s duties. A sequence that would have been perfectly conducted mere hours before, was now the ultimate test of patience and a process of increasingly diminishing returns. But what a howl! As the night wound down, we stumbled back to our hotel room along a sidewalk that somehow wasn’t wide enough.

We woke up early to the sound of crashing waves and sunlight beaming through the oversized windows. We quickly parted to minimize any bad luck induced by seeing each other on the day of the wedding. Joe met up with friends Mike Spalluto and Brian Naughton to clean up the ceremony site. They raked the area clean and smoothed out a path for guests to walk and got cleaned up at the Kingsport. Meanwhile Sarah, Carrie, Meredith and our niece, Nichole Muller attended a hair appointment in Kennebunk. Then they got ready at our honeymoon suite with Patty Caret, Aunt Gretchen and our photographer, Emilie Sommer.

As the hour approached, Joe arrived at the reception site, On The Marsh with family and friends to secure the details. A mini-panick attack set in as time ran thin to manage details. So many things had to be left to fate…a control-freak’s worst nightmare. Surrounded by cooler heads, Joe agreed to just “show up” and let it all go. Arriving at the beach Joe was surprised to see a middle-aged man sun-bathing right in the middle of the path he had raked earlier. He politely asked the man to leave and was shocked at his indifferent response. “I’ll think about it”, he said. Eventually the man graciously moved a few feet. As the crowd gathered on the rocky point we picked out a year before, another crowed of strangers gathered around the perimeter.

When Sarah finally stepped off the trolley, beachgoers encroached in frenzy. As parents, grandparents and bridesmaids rounded the corner, anticipation was palpable. The only sounds were the typically ambient noises of seagulls and children playing in the waves as we had done. On the arm of her loving father, Sarah glided into view. Joe’s eyes welled up with overwhelming joy as the weight of this moment paled next to his sheer delight. Gary graciously handed his daughter to Joe with a hug to begin the ceremony. Knowing it was not permissible to kiss her, Joe could only kiss her hand to contain himself. Annie began the ceremony, atop a flat rock with a painterly ocean backdrop. She gave way to a reading by Sarah’s cousin Anastasia. Then to our attendants who surprised us with speeches of praise they prepared for us. At the height of the tribute we exchanged vows, choking on the words in tearful recognition. With the exchange of rings, it was quickly over.

After a quick photo session we arrived at our beautiful reception site, On The Marsh. We were received with love from friends and family, who needed no encouragement to start partying. We are lucky to be surrounded by so many fun people, ready to dance, anxious to party and eager to laugh. Our rehearsed dance sequence went off well enough, and dinner was spectacular. Our champagne toasts were an emotional rollercoaster. Gary touched the room with his loving dedication to his favorite girls, Sarah and Patty. Mike Spalluto drew some chuckles and touched on some key strengths in our relationship, we thought only we were aware of. Meredith Finn pointed to the duration and power of our love as only she could know, having been so close to us since college. We cut our cake and made our way to the dance floor where the party really got going. Dancing broke out immediately after Sarah’s idyllic dance with her father and Joe’s chaotic dance with his mom. The room gyrated and shook while drinks flowed. Some stayed quiet in the side room, and others sought fresh air outside. But there was room for everyone, and all was well. Before we knew it, the night wound down. The few remaining guests hopped on the trolley for a wild ride through the port. We bid everyone good night and retired under the moonlight. We’re still reflecting on the pure, yet surreal enjoyment of the day. We can’t believe it’s over. But we recognize and appreciate all the efforts of family and friends. We love you all and thank you for all your generous gifts. We sincerely hope you enjoyed yourself. Here’s to more good times to come.

One final thank-you to Patty and Gary Caret. Your love and support is such a blessing. We could not have realized this beatiful day, and in many ways this beautiful life without you. We wish to pay you back in any and every way we can. We can't wait for you to join us in Utah.

Booburt Ate My Wallet

Blü (AKA "Booburt" because it further emphasizes her dimwitted nature) is getting older. She's 2-and-a-half. So she's grown out of jumping up on people. She doesn't eat cigarette butts off the sidewalk. And she even has stopped yanking my arm out of the socket when we walk. So why can't she leave our stuff alone when we're not looking? We try to keep the place "Booburt-proof". We've even tried putting mousetraps on the counters. But that only ever worked on us.

Anyway, she ate my wallet. It's not the first time. In fact I think it's the third or fourth time. We came home from grocery shopping (one hour max) and caught her in the act. She ate the leather wallet clean. She was on to the cards. My new Utah license was missing it's lower right corner. I can't fly home for the wedding like that so I had to have that replaced immediately. All my credit cards are surgically defaced and virtually unswipeable. And the $20 bill? GONE. Once upon a time at the beach house in Kennebunk, Blü swiped a $1 bill from the kitchen table. Surely, it smelled interesting given all the previous handlers. But she's so maniacal about her deviant acts that she often swallows these things whole, to dispose of the evidence as quickly as possible. Anyway, it came out on the beach a few hours later. My dog was finally paying off like a slot machine. Now, this was just $1. People hear that and immediately ask how much it would take for me to "rescue" my hard-earned money. My answer USED TO BE $20. But as tight as money is right now (no punn intended) we're not on the beach. And I'm not that desperate.

So after a day of ignoring her, (which works better that scolding her) she finally paid back her loan this morning. Although surprisingly, it didn't come back in the "denomination" we might have expected. Instead, she hacked it up on the carpet, along with the wallet. The wallet was destroyed. But the cash? Mostly in tact. And after a hot rinse and some scotch tape, it's ready to re-enter circulation.

The moral of this story: Don't borrow cash from me. You don't know where it's been.

Utah Rocks (continued)

Well, It's finally over. 2 months, 6 dental visits, 3 ER trips, 6 stitches in the lip and a few in the gums, 4 sets of temporary teeth, and about 2-dozen needles later, I am now the proud owner of a new porcelin smile. After I destroyed my front teeth, Dr. Paul Innis of Park City fabricated a beautiful and convincing replacement set. He ground down the adjacent teeth to use as support posts and inserted an all porcelin, custom set of permanent replacements. Now, they're better than they ever were. Can't wait to show them to you.

Utah Rocks

Utah rocks hurt. I know, I know it didn't take very long. But I was mountain biking today in park city and I clipped my right pedal on a rock (never saw it), which tossed me face-first into another rock (about 10 inches in diameter). I got up thinking I was fine, until blood started gushing everywhere. I looked down and I saw my front tooth—well part of it anyway— in the kevlar reinforced palm of my glove. I checked my sunglasses. They were in tact. I noticed that the rock with which I had just made out was about 4-5 feet out of place. I could tell because it left a deep trail as my face plowed it from it's previous resting spot.

Then sarah caught up. She started urking a little. I'll spare you her description. So I handed her the tooth. We headed back toward the closest road and despite the dripping blood and the wind strangely whislting through the fresh gap in my grimace, I still managed to catch some air on the way out. The riding out here is that gnarly. We asked around and finally found a hospital that was open. (apparently in Park City you're supposed to schedule your emergencies in advance.) They stitched up my bottom lip, although at first the doctor thought he was about to write me a referral to a plastic surgeon.

6 stitches and a tetnus shot later, it was time to find an all-night dentist. We lucked out in that regard. We were able to find one on call in the area. He took one look at me and laughed. He said "I thought you said on the phone that you 'chipped' it." Apparently "chipping a tooth" is something that occurs when you accidentally catch the edge of a fork while biting down too aggressively. Nevertheless he went on to explain that it was shattered and the best thing to do was drill out the nerve and start over. I said "that's great doc. I was thinking of having them all replaced so this will get the ball rolling." He hovered over me like a mad scientist. No assistant. No secretary. Not sure where all the tools were kept. Not particularly sensitive to the welling of mystery fluids in my mouth. Where's that mini shop-vac anyway? But with the ingenuity of Hawkeye Pierce he was able to construct a convincing chicklet before the clock struck twelve and he turned back into a pumpkin.

Anyway, I should have a pretty sweet new smile for the wedding.