Mitt and me
I’ve cut back on my political news consumption because the whale shit being
generated by the presidential campaign seems like it’s piled up even past the
the 49th Parallel. As Lily Tomlin’s mother said, “enough is enough”.
And, as Lily herself said, “no matter how cynical I get, I can’t keep up.”
Example: Mitt Romney’s official website boasts of how he turned the 2002 Salt Lake
City winter Olympics from a financial disaster to a success, but fails to mention that
he was amply aided by 410 million dollars from the federal government.
But, as I immerse myself in the baseball playoffs, I do wish to come clean about a
related item: I hung out with Mormons for a day.
In 1993 I was working in the L.A. area. I had just bought a VHS camcorder with
the intention of becoming the next Steven Spielberg, or at least Ed Wood. I was
making comedy shorts at the Torrance public access station, recruiting co-workers
for talent.
One of my supervisors knew of this, and asked me if I would tape her daughter’s
wedding. So, totally unprepared, I showed up one spring morning at the Mormon
temple in Westwood, the largest one not to be in Salt Lake City.
The shoot presented an immediate problem. I wasn’t allowed in the temple because
I wasn’t a Mormon, and I didn’t have the time or inclination to convert. The best I
could do was record the young couple as they exited.
There was an official dressed in top hat, tails and white gloves announcing each pair
of newlyweds as they left. He said he’d give me a few minutes notice so I could be
ready to shoot. The church was really cranking them out that day. After an hour or
so, they emerged to the cheers of the non-Mormon attendees, including the bride’s
mother.
The next part of the festivities was a brunch at the home of the groom’s parents. They
lived on the Palos Verdes peninsula, which features some of the choicest real estate in
the U.S. I wove through the crowd, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible someone
with a camcorder on his shoulder could be.
The hosts were most gracious, insisting that I take a break and get something to eat. I
graciously complied.
In the evening, everyone reconvened at a yacht club in Long Beach. The couple restated
their vows in a candlelight ceremony for all to see. Dinner and dancing ensued. I was
exhausted by the end of the day. I went home to my van as the L.A. area experienced a
spectacular electrical storm.
The next day I edited the tape and made copies for family members. I cleared about $300
for the weekend. Not a fortune, but I did get a free brunch and dinner out of it. And it kept
me off the streets.
Anchor Struck 