Pioneer Day warms this Utahn

I like Pioneer Day.

I like pioneer stories. I like little red wagons covered with white butcher paper being pulled around the block by great-great-great grandkids of pioneers. I like that song about pushing and pulling handcarts. I like DUP museums, large and small — I've never been to one that didn't smell musty and rewarding; never been to one that didn't teach me something I didn't know and remind me of something I needed to prick in my memory.

I don't like hurrying through Huntsville. Or Ephraim. Or Willard. I don't like litter. I don't like people who have never bothered to see Zion's Canyon or Dinosaur Land.

I like Monte Cristo and McKinnon Peak, Duck Creek and Daniel's Canyon and the Henry's Fork drainage. I used to like stopping at Rick's Spring for a cold drink and a stretch, before people got all nervous about the possibility of germs. I like the highway loop that takes you to Mirror Lake. I like seeing a good farmer's tan on a good farmer. I like to see kids catching frogs along ditches and marshes. I like seeing kids making sand castles at Bear Lake. I like family reunions.

I don't like magazines from Salt Lake City that act like the world ends at Davis County and try to pretend the state's roots aren't, in reality, rural. I don't like boarded up windows in downtown districts. I don't like the idea of damming up the Virgin River and changing The Narrows. I don't like hay fever and feel sorry for those who have it in a bad way. I don't like moving sprinklers in grain.

I like rodeo queens. And rodeo announcers. And parades that turn around and come back down Main Street a second time. I like Mom-and-Pop-type fast food shops and specials of the day that really are special. I like fresh home-cut fries. I like ice cream that comes out of a barrel loaded with ice and a hand-cranked cylinder filled with a homespun recipe. I like driveway basketball games. I like the smell of Lava soap.

I don't like people who think Utahns are all just hayseeds, to be tolerated for a couple of years before moving on. I don't like the fuss people make about Idaho lottery tickets all being purchased by Utahns. I don't like people passing along stereotypes about me and my state just to get a laugh or snicker. I don't like blogs that are nothing but snide.

I like overgrown lilacs and fireworks shows, and post offices in the center of towns. I like hearing how some people pronounce Tooele and Scipio and Juab. I like knowing that Levan gets its name from navel spelled backwards. I like knowing what's unique about the Uintah Mountain range. I like that we named a street after John Stockton. I used to like Stars Avenue.

I like Hyrum's town slogan. I like the blue spruce and the elk and the rainbow trout and the status they have achieved. I like hearing about Raspberry Days and Peach Days and Strawberry Days and Onion Days and I like knowing where and why they are celebrated. I like knowing why towns are named Paragonah and Parowan, Hatch and Joseph.

I don't like mosquitoes, but I tolerate them because without them, hay can't grow — or at least that's the story my grandma used to spin from the porch of her farm. I like outdoor cooking. I like living where there are four seasons. I wish we had a longer spring and more summer thunderstorms.

I don't like watching film of fires, even if it is "only" a hayfield or "just" a sidehill covered with scrub oak. I don't people who complain about the heat, even when it is more oppressive than usual. I think about walking a couple thousand miles in the heat and cold and mosquitoes so others could enjoy the Jazz and fireworks and home-cut fries.

Yeah, I like Pioneer Day.