Larry King's hard choice: Provo or 'eternal nothingness'

In a long article in GQ magazine, broadcaster Larry King talks about his life and his connection to Utah and Mormons. His wife is LDS and he owns a home in Utah, but he is by no means endeared to his Provo home or her LDS beliefs. But, as always, King handles it with a great sense of wit.In part of the article, King talks of his Utah kin and Mormons: "I mean, they're nice people, they're very nice to me, and I respect the family, and they do a lot of good for other people. I'm not a churchgoer. I used to go sometimes with my wife — I don't go anymore. ... In fact, the more I interviewed religious leaders, the less religious I became. Because they don't have the answers I need. I don't get the answer to why. Why is there a Holocaust? And the answer I get is: We do not question the ways of the Lord."King also talks about his curiosity, and the lack of things to see and do in Utah:"You show me a picture. Like, we have a home in Utah — my wife is Mormon. This beautiful house, in beautiful mountains, but there's nothing there. Provo, Utah ... there's nothing. I'm bored in a day and a half. And they'll always tell me: 'The mountains! Look at the mountains!' 'Pretty. Now what?' You've seen one mountain, you've seen them all."King says Utah lacks diversity, saying it doesn't have "Jews. Blacks. A sense of texture. They all look the same...."GQ writes: "Each day in Provo, the local Albertsons grocery store receives what King believes are the town's only four copies of The New York Times. He has an arrangement, which involves the promise of an extra King dollar bill, that one of these copies be reserved for him. Even so, he's nervous enough about losing his lifeline to the outside world that he's there every morning at 7 anyway, to make sure. He needs it." (For the record you can subscribe to New York Times home delivery in Provo).The writer asks if wherever he ends up after death "is just like Provo?" "'It'd still be better than being dead,' King answers, but then he pauses, as though this is one reply he has carelessly blurted out loud without giving it the full consideration it requires. He now rocks his hand in equivocation, reweighing the delicately balanced alternativesbefore him: eternal nothingness ... Provo ... eternal nothingness ... Provo ... eternal nothingness ... Provo ... eternal nothingness ... Provo. Tough call. Eventually, he concludes that his first answer was probably the correct one — 'I'd rather be in Provo' — though he leaves the impression that Utah may only have prevailed by the slenderest of margins. And that a recount is never out of the question."King tells GQ he's not sure about the afterlife."His wife, who is a country singer, hates this idea. As a Mormon, she devoutly believes he will come back, and he knows that as an unbeliever he will be retroactively baptized by her church in death. 'Strange to me,' he says. 'I'll die, and at my funeral they'll baptize me. And I'm Jewish.' He and his wife used to argue about such things, but he says he has now learned to stay away from it. 'You can't argue religion.'"