Mountaintop Anchovies

Last week I went to Salt Lake City, Utah. It was supposed to be a 2 year mission; however, it was cut a little short, and I only ended up staying for a week for work. It was in Salt Lake City (SLC) that I came to understand what life is like for a desktop icon: No matter where I was or what I was doing, there were picturesque views of mountains surrounding me. All I was missing was the daunting decision of whether to send or not send the error report when I inevitably screw up... Which brings me to my next point: Who gets paid to receive these error reports? I feel like that has Bill Gates' son-in-law's career written all over it. Moving on.

As I type, I am beginning to realize how little there is to write about from SLC. Oh well, guess I'll give it the ol' fashion post-graduate try... Once upon a time, we decided to drive up a mountain for dinner. We set out from the 94 degree weather of the city and began our ascent. Half a mountain later, we set eyes on the restaurant for which we had made reservations. However, we were a little early. It was suggested we use our extra time to continue our climb. I now know exactly what it feels like to go off-roading in a rented Chevrolet Malibu. It is all it's cracked up to be. Turns out, the mountaintop drainage system carved into the Utah slopes was not built for small sedans. The Malibu held up quite well though. If you are in the market for an off-road vehicle, allow me to take this opportunity to voice my support for the suspension of the small Chevy. Forget the Land Rover or Wrangler, just buy a Malibu and put a lift on it... Just this man's suggestion.

Once we got to the top of our climb, we pulled off on a scenic overlook of sorts. Though I'm not sure you can call it an overlook when you are on the top of a mountain and yet you are still surrounded by even taller mountains. We got out of the car to realize it was 50 some-odd degrees and windy. Not quite the sauna we had left at sea-level... We experienced the views and the wind, then took it on back down the hill. As we drove the empty winding roads, I began to feel as though we were in a horror movie. I fully expected to round a corner on the mountain's edge and see a traffic barrier set up with a chainsaw-wielding doctor with a can of fava beans in the pocket of his trenchcoat... We made it safely back to the restaurant. Walking through the door beside the restaurant sign, we were greeted with a long, tall staircase. There was no additional signage, only a windowless flight of stairs leading to another closed door.

When the door opened, Michael Jackson went moonwalking down the stairs as Vincent Price bellowed threats of a corpsy shell. Behind the creaky door was a small, dimly lit hallway housing... you guessed it... an antique dentist's chair. I can't make this stuff up. After regaining our composure and the changing of soiled garments that may or may not have taken place, we finally discovered the hostess for the restaurant nestled opposite the Jigsaw dentist chair. She kindly led us to our speaker-side table. We then began our relatively uneventful meal.

No less than one day after I had uttered the words "If I've never had something, I'll at least try it," I was greeted with my Caesar salad at this establishment. While the music of Motown boomed from the speakers above our heads, my Caesar salad was topped with a fish. "I've never had an anchovy," I may have said. "Well, then you must try it." Great. "They're a little salty." So I cut Nemo in half and went for it... I felt like I had just taken a bite out of a salt lick. My parents were kind enough to let me own fish as a child in order to make me feel like I had a real pet. Theoretically, when you own a fish, you should clean out the bowl or tank at some point in the lifespan of the fish. You remember what it smelled like when you didn't? That was the aftertaste that followed me sucking out the contents of a salt shaker... While I'm crossing that off my list of things to do in life, I will go ahead and cross that off my list of things to say to coworkers while traveling.

Overall, it was a great trip... I'm sorry you missed out, but I'm also sorry you spent this time reading about it. Have a splendid rest of your day. Love always...

Welcome, Me...

The cultural phenomenon of our time dances to the rhythm of my fingertips.

That seems like a decent sentence to begin my blogging career. I've never been the first to follow the crowd. However, I feel the need to satisfy my thirst, though not yet dehydration status, for writing, and as I don't see myself writing a book in the near future, this seemed like the next best option. I haven't quite decided if I am going to tell anyone about this little gem... So, if you stumbled upon this by hitting the "Next Blog" button, congratulations, and please take this opportunity to locate the favorites button at the top of your browser.

What are you going to write about, Loren? Good question. Beats me. You see, I'm an accountant. As such, I am one of the most interesting people on earth. Ever. So I figure, I'll write about saving the world. Then when that gets old, I'll write about whatever I want to because this is a blog, and you shouldn't be reading it anyway. I might just treat this as my personal journal, a diary of sorts. Because, after all, the internet is a safe place for information.

Alright, just like everything I do, this will be more interesting to me at the beginning than later down the road. So, I have to end the welcome post to start my first legitimate contribution to the blog...

That's all for the pregame show... Before you continue reading, please rise, remove your hat, and sing the National Anthem aloud.