While in college, between my separation and divorce, I had the privilege of working with, living near, and getting to know a very beautiful, sweet young lady named Ann who had been brought up Mormon.

She was distressed one day and walked across the street (we both lived in the grad student/married housing section though neither of us were grad students and at that point it was only a matter of time before I would be single again) to talk. We had done one of the vignettes in Neil Simon’s The Good Doctor (cue Groucho’s “Hello, Nurse!”).

It seems that two men from the Church had been by (again) to pressure her into going back. Her father, they said, was in Hell because she had left and would stay there until she returned.

Forgetting for a moment how horrifying a thing that is to say, the fact that you’d have to be nuts or think God a real sonuvabitch to be that way about things…it’s really about money, isn’t it? Power and influence through numbers, whether it’s people or cash. It’s all bastard-math.

Ann, wherever you are (and whether your name is spelled A-n-n-e…sorry I cannot recall), I hope you found what you were looking for instead of what the ghouls wanted your life to be.


TrackBack Identifier URI