EDITOR'S NOTE: Ann Cannon is on vacation. Her son is filling in for her.
Yo! Mr. Rocky Anderson!
What up?
Anyway, I have this complaint, and my mom's always all "so why don't you write the mayor about it, Sweetheart," and I'm always "yeah, right" and "like the mayor's really gonna read a letter from some kid."
Then she goes, "Hey, nothing would ever change if people didn't voice their opinions" and also, "Where would America be today if our Founding Fathers hadn't gotten dressed up and dumped all that tea into Boston Harbor?" and I'm like YOU MEAN I GOTTA GET DRESSED UP TO WRITE THE MAYOR A STINKIN' LETTER?
I totally hate it when you gotta get dressed up. I mean seriously. Why can't people just leave you alone when it comes to your clothes? Like my dad and teachers, for example, are always going PULL UP YOUR PANTS, and I go why? So I can look like you with my belt around my ears? Dudes! Get a grip!
Anyway. Back to the letter. I finally decided to write one after what happened last Friday.
I was late to baseball practice (as usual), so I said to my mom, "Hey, we gotta bounce!" So we went flying down Third Avenue and into Memory Grove where we got stuck behind — you guessed it — one of those horse-drawn carriages you're always seeing downtown.
STUPID CARRIAGES! I hate stupid carriages!
OK and this carriage was THE WORST. It was like going negative 50 miles-per-hour, and the people inside were all smiling and pointing at trees and birds, and so I rolled down the window and yelled, DUDES! THEY'RE JUST TREES AND BIRDS! YOU'RE GONNA SEE A MILLION OF THEM BEFORE YOU DIE, SO PULL YOUR SORRY HORSE REAR OVER AND LET US PASS!
This really ticked off my mom, who went ROLL UP YOUR WINDOW RIGHT NOW, MISTER, but I could tell she was mad about the carriage being in our way, too, because of how the right side of her face started twitching and stuff. The last time I saw her face twitch that much was the day she took my brother driving for the first time in the Rice-Eccles Stadium parking lot.
Anyway. Back to the carriage. It made us totally late for baseball practice, which meant I had to run extra and haul equipment, even though I am NOT just another sorry rookie.
So that's why I'm writing you this letter, Mayor Anderson — to ask you this simple question: Dude! What is up with those horse carriages? Like, who do we think we are in this city, anyway? The Amish?
So I vote we just get rid of the buggies and horses. Give 'em all a big bag of oats and a one-way ticket out of town and say love, peace and chicken grease! We'll catch you guys later! And if we can't get rid of them, then, hey, let's AT LEAST bring the carriages into the 21st century and give us all something to look at!
OK. So here's my idea for that. You know that show on TV where lame cars get taken into a body shop for an extreme makeover? Like, for instance, they'll take a trashy Honda Civic and give it Lamborghini Gullwing doors and a Magic Fingers passenger seat, and the owner is all crying and jumping up and down and screaming I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS IS MY CAR?!!!!
Well, the city could totally do that for the horse carriages! For example, you could trick out the carriage wheels with spinners. Spinners! SWEET! After that you could put "woofers" and "tweeters" in the carriage body so that the driver could turn up the bass and blow us all away! And finally you could give both the driver AND the horse matching Oakley shades. YES!
So OK. If the city did that, then all the tourists here would say SALT LAKE CITY ROCKS! And I'd have to agree with them. Even if they do get in my way.
E-mail: acannon@desnews.com