All My Gettings

As I was driving to work today, I noticed a new billboard. At least, I think it's new. Maybe all this oxygen I'm now getting thanks to my non-deviated septum is heightening my awareness to all new levels. I'm not sure what the purpose of this billboard is, but it's advertising Sandy, the fifth-largest city in Utah. It reads: "Relax. You're in the 34th safest city in America."

Now, I can take a moment and realize there are a hundreds of cities across America and that coming in 34th is a pretty good accomplishment (even, if what it probably means is your city is also almost entirely suburban and white). However, it doesn't seem like the highest selling point, at least to me. Especially when you learn that Orem, just a twenty-five minute drive to the south is the 13th safest.

I'm guessing Sandy's not feeling much love these days, after bungling the whole Real Stadium thing and lobbying hard to get a Broadway-style theatre for "family-appropriate" touring shows. So maybe these billboards are just an attempt to feel better about themselves. The previous billboard in this spot read something about Sandy having the lowest taxes in a major city in Northern Utah or something equally arcane. So, from what we can tell, Sandy assumes the people of Utah like low taxes and gang-free neighborhoods. Don't let Draper, know, though, or they'll throw a hissy hit that'll make the whole no-DI east of the freeway look merely humorous.

In unrelated news, my sister learned this weekend, in a one-on-one conversation, that Cesarean sections are part of the adversary's plan. Because, I suppose, Satan's got a vested in interest in there being more birth-related deaths and stillborn children. I must have totally misunderstood the Plan of Salvation, or something.