Dear Utah

Dear Utah,

I think it's about time we talk. We've grown too comfortable in our relationship of subtle indifference towards each other. We're not friends but neither are we enemies. I neither hate you or particularly dislike you. I am sure it's mutual.

Where to begin? I suppose it has to do with where we started. I am not your native born son, I am adopted. You had no influence on my creation. Your mountain waters neither helped create me or sustain me. Your lofty mountain peaks did not provide me shelter, or inspire me with their aesthetic beauty. I was an adult before we met truly for the first time. How could we possible have a relationship?

 I've met your children and they are good people. They're hardy stock, salt of the earth type of people. I even married one. They get you. They don't want to leave you. You have an inexplicable power over them, for even if they move they still feel your call. Many who do leave you end up returning. But why? What is it about you that is so attractive?

Is it because they're used to being isolated? That can't be true because I happen to know the vast majority of them speak multiple languages, and have spent long periods of time far away from you. They get around.

Is it because of the weather? Hardly. No offense Utah but you're weather leaves little to the imagination and leaves a lot to be desired. I experienced winters growing up, and yet they seemed so much nicer out east. Throw in your famous inversion habit during the winter and it's a surprise anyone sticks around at all.

You have your mountains, and to many, I guess that's enough of a flower to keep them buzzing around. Best snow on earth you say. I can't dispute that, maybe it is. I however I have no desire to go find out. I see skiing as more of a novelty that locals have adapted to. I've had people explain to me how great it is. I get why they love it. For me though, and only me, it is not appealing.   

I think you appeal to, for the lack of a better word, mountain people. I am not one. My question is: Do I have to become one if I am to stick around? I drive a Honda Accord. I really don't have any plans to stop driving a Honda Accord. If I am to believe what I see on your streets you'd prefer I get a truck. I don't haul anything, and I don't have tools I need for work so I don't really see the point myself. Based solely on my own personal observations, I think maybe lots of your children do have a constant need for hauling things and tools around. I would also guess that maybe they're not very good at managing their time, or perhaps they have a LOT of things and tools to haul, because they always seem to be in a terrible hurry.

I do like to hike. However, your idea of hiking and my idea of hiking don't seem like the same thing. I like to hike in nature. Your people like to hike in as little of nature as possible. Also, I like to hike more or less on a horizontal plane; your folks prefer the vertical plane. Rocks and views are great, and I can't deny their appeal. However, I like trees and lots of them. You have them, but they don't seem like as big a priority with you than they are with me.

Your history. Let's talk about your history because at first glance you have none. Impossible you say? Touché, you have a history and it's not a bad one either, just not that interesting...to me. From what I can tell you were unknown wilderness to all but the random tribes of people that wandered through you. It's like you didn't even enjoy having children at first, you were pretty inhospitable. The Spaniards came but they used you more for treasure hunting. On a personal note, I do find this era of your history particularly fascinating. There must be something about being born in Spain that drives one to be excited about gold and treasure. The Spaniards just didn't do much while they were here. Then came the Mormons. You seemed to like them and they seemed to like you. I believe that's when you began enjoying being a state to a lot of people. Now you're a modern metropolis nestled in the mountains. You appeal to both liberal hipsters and conservative traditionalists. Quite the accomplishment. Yet, historically you're pretty vanilla.

(Full disclosure, as a Mormon I have to acknowledge our ties. I am legally obligated to treat you like the Mormon Mecca. I acknowledge and herby give you all due acknowledgement and kudos that you are legally obligated to.)

Maybe by this point you're feeling a little defensive. Who am I to question you? If I don't like you then why don't I just leave? Again, touché. You've provided me with quite the domesticated life here. I can't rightly complain.

I just don't get you. We've been together for some time now. We live together. I just feel other lands a calling. I have wanderlust. You provide no natural remedy to wanderlust. I don't just want to go on vacation and leave you periodically, I want to roam.

No matter how long I live here we're never going to be part of a familial unit. I've never been to a Jazz game, and I've never been to Lagoon. I hope you don't take it personally. I am going to forever feel like a foreigner in your land. I appreciate everything you've done for me so far, and I wish you the best. I don't write this letter to hurt your feelings. I just felt it was time we defined the relationship. It felt time that you understood where I am coming from. I hope we can continue to get along.

Sincerely,

Micah