Dear Moose,
Let me begin by saying I am overwhelmingly impressed with
your tenacity. Your willingness to stand up for what you believe in and never
give up your ground exceeds any human I have ever associated with. The
persistence and nerve you possess is something the greats of this world have
only dreamed about.
Let me explain. Last week, I had Fall Break. Unlike my
made-up Fall Breaks that I created for myself at BYU where I ditched class to
take my razor scooter down the canyon, this was an actual Fall Break from
teaching. Being a teacher is similar to being an astronaut. Astronauts work so
hard, yet when you imagine them you just think of a guy spinning around with no
gravity eating freeze dried ice cream. Teachers work hard, but most people only
think of recess and multiplication tables. (Obviously, I am comparing how the most difficult parts of our profession are overlooked. If I was comparing our pay, I would
compare a teacher to an astronaut who was mugged and only got to keep their
Famous Footwear stamp card.) So naturally, I was pretty excited for a break. The first
night, Emmie and I sat down and planned our whole forty eight extra
hours of glory. For Friday, we planned to go to Park City and ride the Alpine coaster.
We arrived at Park City on the perfect October afternoon.
The sun was shining, the leaves were turning gold, and no 12 year olds had asked for my
permission to go to the bathroom in more than a day and a half. We stood in
line to buy our tickets for the coaster. After 40 minutes of waiting, we were
about to walk up to the window when an employee in a forest green vest started
announcing loudly, “Excuse me, but we are having a MOOSE DELAY on the coaster.
I repeat, we are having a MOOSE DELAY.” It took me awhile (obviously I thought
the employee was saying that there was a mousse
delay. I assumed the operation of the coaster was being delayed because
each paying customer was taking a short break from coaster riding and instead
eating a large bowl of chocolate mousse, hopefully with oreos on top.) but once
I finally got over my disappointment, I realized they were talking about you,
dear moose.
Guess what? I was pretty thrilled at my chance to meet you!
I imagined myself riding down the coaster and patting your muzzle as I whizzed
by, throwing you a carrot on my way down. (Do moose like you eat
carrots? Maybe I’d simply throw you a bowl of mousse.) My daydreams were
quickly thrashed when the employee informed us the coaster would be CLOSED
until you moved. We asked the woman at the ticket window if it would still be
worth it to buy tickets. She said yes, and we figured you could be a good
friend and simply move a few yards.
Emmie and I stood in line, waiting for you to move. At first
we merely stood there laughing: who else had been part of a moose delay before?
Was this the kind of event that would end up being one of those little known
trivia facts on Balderdash in 40 years? Oh moose, you kept us laughing. After
20 minutes, the group of 50 or so people started to get restless. People
started checking their watches and looking around at the other attraction
lines. 30 minutes. 40 minutes. By then, each person had exclaimed at least
once, “It’s a MOOSE! I could move it!” The long line of agitated people then
took the next half hour to each walk up to the park employees and ask, “Hey, so
have you ever tried scaring the moose away? Why don't you make a loud noise?” and pretending like they were the
only ones smart enough to think about this. What a good practical jokester you
are, Moose. You didn’t even budge an inch after more than an hour.
After the park employees got tired of hearing complaints, they informed us you
were getting aggressive. You REFUSED to move. Way to stand your ground.
(Sidenote: could really NOBODY move you? I mean, who exactly tried to move you,
anyway? Were they using a dog toy or something? I’m no Einstein, but couldn’t
we have used a tranquilizer? Or at the very least, a moose leash? Emmie pointed
out that if you really are that strong, shouldn’t you be part of our army? Wouldn’t
America truly establish world domination if we invested in more moose?)
The next hour you were generous enough to help foster my
creativity. I made multiple plans to make you move, which include but are not
limited to:
·
Riding down the coaster and try to outrun you if
you chased me
·
Bringing a bear from the nearest zoo and have
you both fight for the right to be king of the Alpine coaster
·
Make the sacrifice myself and dress up as a
bear, luring you away from the track. I only promised to do this if the next
day’s headlines in the Park City paper would read, “Local girl becomes Moose
Mousse”
Oh, but your kindness did not stop there. Not only did you
foster my creativity, but you helped me manage my time. After waiting for an
hour and a half, I realized I had better things to do, so I pulled out my phone
and went to work on ordering my Halloween costume on Amazon. There’s nothing like
truly enjoying the outdoors by spending 30 minutes on your phone looking for
the neatest Pokeball.
After two long hours, Emmie and I decided our stomachs were
grumbling much too loud for acceptance from the public, so we left our spot in
line and went to dinner. Just as we were exiting the restaurant, you finally
moved. Excellent lesson in comedic timing. We were informed it would be another
hour wait, so we made the executive decision to go home.
I never got to ride the coaster that autumn afternoon. I
never got to have chocolate mousse. However, we did come up with a way to take
over the world, which of course includes an army of you and the rest of the
moose the Alpine coaster has to offer. We also established Moose Awareness Day,
to be celebrated next year by standing in a line for three hours and then going
home. So, all in all, a successful day. For that, I thank you.
In the utmost sincerity,
Rachel
