SLC and DSL

I just came back from vacation. My in-laws wanted to meet some friends in Salt Lake City, and we decided that sending them there on the bus was too expensive. Instead I took some time off work and we all headed down there for four days. We booked a two-bedroom suite we thought was near Temple Square. The suite was a life saver. The distance--well, wasn't so close when pushing three kids in a stroller.

It was a good trip, even if it was hot most of the time. It must be more humid there, as it really felt oppressive.

The highlight for me was Sunday morning when we attended the Mormon Tabernacle Choir "Music and the Spoken Word" broadcast. As a practicing (meaning I've yet to get it right) "Mormon" I'm familiar with both the choir and the Conference Center they broadcast from while the Tabernacle is under renovation.

We arrived at the Conference Center a little before 9:00 am. As we headed in through the lobby I could hear a recording of the choir playing over the sound system inside the hall itself. When we entered the hall I realized I was mistaken. The choir and the orchestra were rehearsing--it was live.

I had a By-Golly-It's-Real moment right there in the entryway. Everyone else was focused on finding a seat, while I wandered about, trying to shove tears back in and feeling foolish. Of course I knew there was a Conference Center and a Mo-Tab Choir. But something about standing in the very place, listening to the very choir was overwhelming. That was the place where a prophet and apostles have given counsel and commentary that have been very dear and personal to me. That was the choir who even over the aural limitations of my television have been able to create music to bring me to tears.

I consider myself a man who lives by faith. I found my reaction to it all just a little distressing. I mean, the choir and building they sing in should not require much faith to believe in. If my faith is so weak that seeing a physical confirmation of such obvious and evident things surprised me, then my faith must be especially weak about the important matters of religion, the stuff that really matters.

But after further contemplation I decided there was nothing wrong with me. My reaction was not one of surprise, but of joy. I don't get misty-eyed over everything, after all. I didn't break into tears at being on the Las Vegas Strip the first time. I didn't get choked up when I first set foot in Finland. And while I did get emotional at times in Washington D.C., it was not over confirmation of its mere existence, but what it stood for.

What I was experiencing was the rewards of faith, the joy that comes from the confirmation of something meaningful, the sensation of cascading reinforcement of an elaborate and powerful system of beliefs--of hundreds of if-this-then-thats clicking into place.

I will be a little more sympathetic toward scriptural accounts of people being overwhelmed by spiritual experiences to the point of collapse from now on.

The broadcast was fascinating. The former stage manager in me marveled at all the individual pieces that went together to create a half-hour broadcast of a fairly static event. From the stagehands moving microphones between a narrow window of camera shots to the conductor moving off to rest just a few moments on a stool before returning to the podium just in time for the next piece, it was almost dizzying to comprehend.

But the tears were not all done. Their final number was "Thou Lovely Source of True Delight," a Mack Wilberg resetting of a hymn by Anne Steel. Few things get to me like a Mack Wilberg arrangement. A live performance of a Mack Wilberg arrangement with full choir and orchestra is an invitation for a face-washing. I'm grateful I had the foresight to put a few tissues in my pocket before leaving the hotel.

The trip really raised my appreciation of my children. We dragged those poor kids all over downtown Salt Lake in stifling heat, and they handled it pretty well. We spent over thirteen hours in the van just driving there and back, and they were amazingly good.

They were three little kids on an adult vacation, so I'm surprised they didn't whine more than they did--which wasn't much. Walter would have been happy to sit and watch the trams come and go. Emma could have spent all day exploring the fountains. Richard...well, he never would have left the hotel.

We were all grateful to see home, though. We packed quite a lot into four days, and we all slept like rocks last night. There's no place like home.

And now home has DSL! When we got home I had a package from Qwest waiting for me on the front doorstep. Once we got the kids to bed I settled in to spend a night of installing and configuring. Fortunately it required far less time than that. In fact, it may have been the easiest hardware installation to date.

The modem we were sent is capable of being used for a wireless network. My wife and I both have laptops now, and both have wireless cards, so it's tempting. However, if we use it in wireless mode our main computer won't be able to connect to the internet. Decisions, decisions...