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If a Train Leaves Reno at Noon, What Century is it in Utah?

by warren stone

A Park City friend of mine keeps urging me to move from Nevada to Utah, but I’m scared. I’ve moved a lot in my life, and I’m supremely aware of the lifestyle differences across the U.S., not just regionally, but from state to state. For example, I was a radio newsman in Idaho for three years, and I can tell you that Idahoans are so racist they would happily swallow bleach tablets if they thought it would keep their excrement white. It was a boring job being a morning man there; Every day, I’d drive to the station, open the microphone and say... “No black people moved here today. And now, the weather!”

There was also a lot of methamphetamine use in Idaho. Why wouldn’t everyone want to live in a state that combines high-blood pressure and Nazis? A new breed of canine spontaneously evolved there. It is known as the Meth-lab Retriever.

Living in Indiana convinced me that the state is populated almost entirely with child molesters. It’s not generally known, but “Hoosier” is actually short for “Who’s yer Daddy?” The State Patrol has armed guards at the border to keep smart people out: If a suspect can touch their own nose, they’re relocated to Kentucky. People in Appalachia refer to Indianapolis as “the sticks.”

I don’t really remember much about Oregon. As soon as I got off the bus in Portland, I was overcome by second-hand marijuana smoke and wandered around for nine years.

I lived in Washington State for a decade, and I still don’t know what it looks like. I literally couldn’t see it through the trees.

Which leads me to Nevada, my current abode. It’s the perfect state for those like myself who place sex and money over so-called “traditional human values.” I’m a molestation victim who’s had a tough life (remember, I’m a former Hoosier) and I haven’t had sex for free since I was an alter boy.

When I hit Nevada, I found my dream state... and like most men, I’m usually erect in my dream state. Living here, I get so excited, so consistently, that there are three lap dancers in the Reno area who now have glass eyes because of me. I had to have my steering wheel redesigned so that a certain body part could express itself freely (especially on 4th Street in Reno).

But since September 11th, Nevada’s state industry, tourism, has suffered in wartime the way fidelity suffered in the Clinton White House. Jobs, once plentiful and disposable in Nevada, are now as rare as a dry-eyed guest on “Jerry Springer.”

I need a place to move where I can breath freely, work profitably...and still drive to 4th Street in Reno on the weekends. Utah would seem to fit the bill, but I have so many questions about it.

With polygamy so rampant there, why doesn’t everybody carpool? Shouldn’t every restaurant be either a buffet or smorgasbord (and everydating service for that matter)? Is the most popular TV program “Eight is Enough?” I love driving in the Nevada desert. Would my beloved Dust Devils be replaced by Dust Disciples?

As a former bartender I have to ask... if I moved to Utah, would I have to call a “Shirley Temple” a “Shirley Tabernacle?” Would I have to learn to pour a “Blank on the Beach” or a “Screaming Really Happy Noise?” I know that suggestive euphemisms are watched-out for with vigilance in Utah. Would I be obligated to refer to a certain pay-TV channel as Home Vagina Office?

Are there any prisons in Utah? I have a difficult time believing a state as religious as yours would have something usually known as a penal system. And if so, is it full of upstanding citizens?

I’m still weighing my options, and I’ll let you know what I decide. If you wish to influence my decision, please contact me through this paper and tell me if Park City has a 4th Street.