A lost cause

Pre-text: People ask me often what it was like to live in Utah for six and a half years. I'll get to that today, and I predict I'll do it without offending anybody.

No, I am not interested in buying whatever you are selling. Not only do I dislike stuff — an all-encompassing term for vacuums, widgets and lawnmowers — I dislike the people selling stuff. You probably have your own stories about people and their stuff. My favorite might be the guy who tried for 10 minutes to get me to subscribe to a newspaper. Not the newspaper I worked for. The rival to my newspaper. I had to hang up on the guy while he was still talking because he wasn't taking no for an answer.

So, I'll say it: Never buy the Manchester Union Leader.

No, it wasn't a Dyson. But the guy kept talking about sucking power. Tee hee.

Then there was the vacuum salesman. I was out for a run and came home to a 20-year-old vacuum salesman trying to sell my wife on a $2,000 vacuum cleaner. Nevermind that we mostly had wood floors. It was an "investment in your home." I stifled a laugh at that one and I'm pretty sure the guy was actually mad at me for not wanting a $2,000 vacuum. With financing. After I just bought a house I could barely afford.

Pt. II: Never buy a vacuum cleaner from a guy walking door to door (unless you can afford it).

On an LDS mission from God?

Which brings me to the elders. I have spoken with more Mormon missionaries in Maine (some) than I ever spoke with in Salt Lake (none). In Salt Lake, I would avoid them, in their white shirts and black suits. They looked like well-kept versions of the Blues Brothers. I just thought of that analogy and I love it. In Utah, Mormonism is pervasive. The church claims about 60 percent of the state as members. I'd peg it around 45 percent, because not everybody the church claims is active. Still, it's everywhere. And I really like beer and coffee.

In Maine, it's a vastly different story. On my way to work Sunday, I actually waved at a pair of missionaries and said hi to them. I thought about taking their picture but didn't want to be rude. Instead, enjoy this Google image search. I just wanted to brighten these guys' days. They're invariably from Utah or Arizona. They're a long way from home and Maine is a little different, culturally, from what they're used to.

So there I am, in front of City Hall on Sunday chatting for 10 minutes. And one of them, we'll call him Elder Jimmy because I can't remember his nametag, just wouldn't let it go. "Any chance we can meet with you? Answer some questions?"

Uh, no. "I'm an avowed Christian. I know exactly where I stand. I'm supposed to be evangelizing to you right now, pointing out that, in the Bible it says two things: faith alone saves you and the Bible is the only testament to the life of Jesus Christ. I don't feel up for spiritual warfare, guys."

The smalltalk continued. We talked weather. We talked politics. We talked about crushing societal pressure to conform. And again, Elder Jimmy came at me. "We'd really like to meet with you."

It's a lost cause, as far as he's concerned. I just wish I could get Elder Jimmy to understand that. We said our goodbyes. He threw out one last "You're sure?" My blood was actually simmering a little. If he was a salesman, I would never step into his store ever again. It's NOT the theological stuff, though we have plenty of differences.

PT III: I wouldn't buy your vacuum, either.

I want to stress something: This isn't about the theology. I have Mormon friends. Do not be mean to them. Primarily, the gist is this: Do not try to sell me things.