Thos and Delaina's wedding day, part 3: We plunge in our forks in American Fork, where I experience the curse of the Wasilla traveler in the age of Palin
Wednesday, October 20, 2010 at 12:14PM ;)
We left Rex's car at the Draper Temple and he rode with me south toward American Fork, the plan being that I would drop him off on the way back and he could then pick up his car. The wedding lunch was to be held at the Rodizio Grill. As has become my way, I did not bother asking anybody for directions, but just entered "current location" and "Rodizio Grill" into the Google map feature of my iPhone and it laid out the route for me.
That route ended at the freeway exit into American Fork, so I figured that once we got there, I would just pull off at the exit, zoom in on the iPhone map, spot the exact location of Rodizio's and drive right to it.
As we drew near, Rex said that I needed to take the Lehi exit, the one immediately before American Fork, and then go west. I chose to listen to my iPhone and continued on to the American Fork exit. As I did not know which direction Rodizio's was from the freeway, only that it had be very close, I took Rex's word and turned right, to the west.
By the time we had traveled 100 yards away from the exit, it was obvious there was going to be nothing to the west, so I pulled over and took out my iPhone. Rex was insistent that I should have taken the earlier exit and then gone west from there.
So I did a new iPhone map from the spot where we were parked to Rodizio's and it drew out a half-mile route to a spot that appeared to be right on the freeway, right near the entrance for north bound traffic on the east side.
Rex still insisted that I should have taken the last exit and that we needed to go west. He said he had got his information from Mary Ann.
"But it shows it right here," I pointed to the map on my phone.
However, because it showed Rodizio's looking as though it sat right on the freeway near the entrance, a slight amount of doubt crept into me. What if the iPhone did not know where Rodizio's was, but had merely given me the route to the American Fork exit?
But this could not be... iPhones are smart! It had to know the location of Rodizio's!
Anyway, it showed me the route to that spot, I started to follow it and we reached this stoplight. Rex called Mary Ann for clarification. Just beyond, there was a fork in the road. One fork continued on the iPhone route, crossed over the freeway, then veered slightly north and came back to the spot where Rodizio's appeared to be right on the freeway. As the sparrow flies, we were maybe 300 to 400 yards away.
The other fork led back onto the freeway, going south, toward Las Vegas.
The light turned green, I started out on the iPhone route, but Rex ordered me to turn right, onto the freeway ramp. And you know... he's the big brother. I did. As it turned out, the iPhone was right. There was road construction to the south and the next two exits were out of commission.
It took us nearly 20 minutes to double back and return to the dot that appeared on the iPhone to be right on the freeway but which was, in fact, Rodizio's, sitting right alongside the freeway.
Never doubt your iPhone - not even when your big brother speaks.
See that mountain? That's Timpanogos, 11,749 feet. I climbed it once in the winter and slept on the side, in a snow cave. Nothing compared to Denali, but a nice little adventure, anyway.
About eight months after Jacob was born, Margie and I dropped him off at my parent's house in Sandy, then we drove to the north side of this mountain, which is forested and has glaciers near the top. Robert Redford's Sundance ski resort sits on the north slope of Timp, which was also the setting for much of his movie, Jeremiah Johnson.
We climbed to the top.
Coming back down, we reached a slide on the glacier. Margie took a seat at the top of the slide but looked at the steep slope below her and was afraid to go. She just sat there, immobile. So I gave her a little push on the back and down she slid, shrieking.
I plopped down and slid down behind her.
When I reached her, she was both shrieking and laughing, scolding me for pushing her, yet happy that she had made the slide.
In Rodizio's, we found the bride and groom, not eating, but milling about, entertaining the guests.
I took a seat right beside Delaina's dad. "Where do you live?" he asked me.
"Wasilla, Alaska," I answered.
"No!" he shot back, in genuine disbelief. "No you don't!"
"Yes," I said. "I do."
"No you don't!"
"Yes," I held my ground. "I absolutely do."
"Oh. Well... you're good then."
And he never asked me another single question. It was as if the fact that I live in Wasilla told him all that he ever wanted to know about me.
When I travel Outside, I frequently find that many people peg me as soon as they learn where I live. Right wingers will often immediately embrace me as a soul brother. Upon hearing the word, "Wasilla," left wingers, who were friendly and open one minute before, will sometimes suddenly shy away, cease all conversation and want nothing more to do with me.
Folks...!!!! We who live in Wasilla are individuals. We do not all think alike. We do not all eat the same food. Some of us prefer coffee to tea and many don't drink either. We do not vote as a block. We don't all hang out together and we don't all worship Sarah Palin.
Some of us remember how life was before this odd phenomena that is her burst so irrationally upon America and we wish it could be that way again.
We want our Wasilla back!
He is a physical therapist. He got into the field as a student at BYU. He went on to work with the BYU football team and other athletic teams, which caused him to spend much time traveling. He spent many years in Texas.
Now he does his physical therapy on inmates at the Point of the Mountain Utah State Prison.
Occasionally, an inmate will get hostile. Every inmate that he works on is restained, usually either by hand or leg cuffs, depending on what part of the body needs therapy.
Now, I will just move quickly along. The food at Rodizio's... hey, it's not quite as good as Iñupiat and native food, but it is mighty fine and tasty. You start out at a salad bar that has about 30 selections, some of which could qualify as the main course, then guys like this keep coming by with skewers of everything from spicy chicken to spare ribs, to grilled pork and, as you can see, grilled pineapple.
That pineapple... whoa!
I want some more, right now!
Can't have it.
Maybe never again.
A once in a lifetime experience.
I bet they have it in Hawaii.
Even better there.
How can I get to Hawaii?
This is the turkey, wrapped in bacon. Rex has two pig valves in his heart and so does not eat anything wrapped in bacon.
I do, though, and it was... heavenly!
Mary Ann and her daughters are all vegetarian, and this place was good for them, too.
The intellectual banter was continuous.
Shaela and Delaina's mom.
More pineapple.
The thing was, each shaving of food was tiny, leaving the diner to always feel that he (or she) can take another.
So the diner eats and eats, all the time thinking that she has room for plenty more. And then, at the end, suddenly, the diner realizes she is stuffed beyond stuffed.
Or he realizes it. Because I am a he and at the end I was stuffed beyond stuffed.
I could hardly waddle back to the car.
The Rodizio Grill - a place where young people meet...
...and get to know each other.
The bride and groom, at the beginning of their life together.
The other men attached to my sister's daughters. That's Eric sitting by Amber. He is an adventurer, a mountain climber. He loves the Arctic and has scaled tall, icy, peaks that rise from Baffin Island in northeastern Canada.
The other fellow is Steven, Shaela's husband, who, like her, is making a career in the brutal film industry called Hollywood.
Shaela.
;)
A hand upon the shoulder of a granddaughter.
You should know these two by now.
It is time to go. But before we do, Rex visits Tom and his mom.
;)
My sister and her step-granddaughter.
I constructed this and part 4, the final wedding day post, before I went to bed last night, but I will give this a half-dozen or so hours to hang at the top of the list - to see how many extra hits are drawn in just because the word, "Palin," appears in the title.
It will be a bunch, I'm sure.
Update: After reading this, my niece Shaela posted a picture of me being blessed at the Indian temple at Shravanabelagola on her own blog.
Reader Comments (4)
It was good food. Especially that pineapple. Aaaaah, the pineapple.....
the food sounds wonderful and the pictures are lovely
I understand about the pineapple. I would go back to Hawaii tomorrow if I could get a cup of fresh guava juice if I could. Processed, preserved store brands simply do not compare.
I understand about your wry realization that you get more 'hits' whenever you mention the Palin Factor. And I'm sorry for that. Your writing, you philosophy, introspection, Alaskaness, world-view and photo's are all worthy of viewership.
But I got to say:
Some of us remember how life was before this odd phenomena that is her burst so irrationally upon America and we wish it could be that way again.
We want our Wasilla back!
AMEN! You sum it up succinctly. Except we can put Alaska in for Wasilla and it resonates just as much.
I read your blog, regularly. I live about 4 miles east of the Rodizio Grill and commute on the freeway daily. It is nice that you could come down and see the area and experience the wedding. Thanksgiving point is a great place to shoot landscapes and early spring flowers. Enjoy your comments and stay healty and busy.
PMH