wednesday is greenie day at the mtc. tens of dozens of fresh missionaries (new phrases make me look smart) line up to cordially accept their highly personalized dork dot to make their assignment official. some laugh. some cry. some just blindly follow the crowd into the assembly hall where a church offical will reassure everyone present that giving up 2 years of their lives for the church is the least they could do.
i enjoy driving past the mtc at around noon on wednesdays. that is when traffic is the worst because of all the parents walking their children to the door. normally, i dont like traffic. it gets in my way. but i like seeing the herd of people looking forward to cramming themselves into a small space for the next 2 months before they are shipped out.
now, some of you may think my interest is from a desire to reminisce in the good ol' days of a simpler time when all you were required to do was study and eat. but you would be mistaken. although i did actually enjoy my mtc experience, my motives for driving past the mtc on wednesdays at noon are more narcissistic... nay, more sinister than they may appear.
i like to think that as i pull up to red light on the corner of the mtc entrace with the tens of dozens of families taking pictures of their "all grown up" babies for the last time for two years, that my mustang, with windows down and led zepplin blasting, can serve as a reminder for some of them of all the worldly possessions they had to give up... right before they recieve their dork dot and make it official.
in related news, my little brother is going to el salvador.
