Life goes on

Note to the gentle reader: This post will be enhanced by playing the following song in the background as you read. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UzeAkQQxbEo

"Life goes on", or so they say. But is it really a life worth living after certain key losses? Who are they to tell you that anyway, speaking as though they knew your pain or even felt a similar sorrow. My life was changed several years ago, at a very key time in my life. During those tough years of high school, I felt lost, alone, confused, and often longed for ways to fill that emptiness. Many youths of my time were content to console themselves with drugs, alcohol, or less than desirable female companionship. I, however, found something that filled my void as well as my stomach. Through a life-changing friend, I was introduced to my gateway drug, a delicious deep-fried Mexican style dinner at a price I was more than willing to pay. My Bajio fixes became legendary, meeting the needs of body and soul. It quickly became one of my new best friends, a friend that seemed to know just where to find me.

I was initially nervous to serve an LDS mission, but not for some of the reasons you might suspect. I wasn't too worried about giving up my favorite music, pastimes, or video games as other sometimes are. Among my concerns was being separated from my dear companion who had so richly blessed me during my struggling high school years. How could I live apart from Bajio after being so abundantly provided for by Her bounteous arm? Another thing they say is that the Lord does provide and He will prepare a way. And thus it happened in my case. Taking it on faith that all would be well, I accepted the call to serve in Indiana. My introduction to the food world of Indiana was something less than divine; actually borderline demonic. My missionary companion decided it would be a great start to my service for us all to venture in to the local White Castle. I almost left my mission and returned home after that meal. The whole state was not so backward in culinary taste, however, as I was blessed to serve in a small town in southern Indiana in a beautiful area of God's country. At this same time, there were those special men and women being inspired from above to franchise Bajio, emanating from the beautiful Wasatch mountains and beyond. While thus faithfully engaged in the work, I accepted an invitation to work with my district leader in his area of labor. I met him in his larger, college town driving the many miles to his home.

That's where I saw Her again for the first time in many months, in a place where I had nearly abandoned all hope of ever seeing Her again. I am ashamed to admit it, but in the months before, I had stopped hoping for Her, realizing my only way forward was to leave Her behind; a sacrifice in the service. I wept graciously inside, but outwardly expressed in a casual tone to the older missionary that this restaurant might be a good option for lunch. I reasoned that it was centrally located, had a high person-to-area ratio, and mentioned the fact that I had seen it in a possibly inspired vision the night before. He nonchalantly conceded that I made a good point, informing me that for college-aged students anything on the menu was only $5. My heart literally grew warm, prompting a fleeting fear of infarction, at the thought of receiving twice as much sustenance for the same monetary investment. I was truly blessed that day and realized that miracles do indeed happen in our day. I recall sharing a more powerful than normal testimony with many we talked with that day of this newly reaffirmed truth. With my mission now saved, I was able to continue and finish the work each day, receiving occasional Bajio hits that kept me going.

On returning home to Utah, I found that all seemed well with my favorite place. However, there was a nagging feeling that Bajio might not be doing so well. Kind of like a sickly show horse that just can't trot like he used to. More than once, I was among the only patrons gratefully eating in their grand dining area. I tried to convince myself that this was likely because I ate there at late hours; their lunch crowd was what kept them afloat I reasoned. My life continued, and She was always there, stalwart as ever but being manipulated behind the scenes. Bajio provided one of the first meals I shared with my beautiful wife Chelsey, as well as giving us a place to entertain her out of town relatives as they visited. It was during this last visit that we encountered the horrible news.

As we proceeded to order, we inquired of the chef what had happened to the Draper Bajio location. She regretfully informed us that Top management had decided to transform all current locations into another, shoddy low-quality restaurant. The Bajio locations were to be phased out and replaced. My horrible prediction had finally been realized; so ironic I thought how again the popular opinion of the people could be so wrong. It hadn't worked in Communist Russia or with Fascist Germany. People simply do not desire what is best for them. As a student of psychology and history, I was not surprised, but deeply troubled by the realization that humanity could not make wise decisions and the pursuant destruction of society this would ultimately lead to.

Resigned to a world without Bajio, I return to my introduction. "Life goes on". While it may be true that we continue breathing after something tragic like this happens, we are actually somewhat deadened inside. And contrary to popular advertising and beauty ads which idolize the outside or appearance as what's real, it's what's inside that matters. Apparantly the management of Bajio had a soul that died long ago in order to make such a tragic decision, for their insides are likely blacker than a buried coffin. Maybe I can inquire if there is room for one more.

Coming soon, Part 2, the redemptive conclusion