About

A zine about growing up Mormon

Explanation of my experiences growing up a Mormon. Tell as if the reader doesn't know much if anything about Mormons and their religion. Tell about seminary, sacrament meeting, Boy Scout trips, friends I made, How I coped. There was a period where it was just me, Andrew, and Stev-O. We unintentionally formed into a sort of gang that many people feared, or at least didn't like very much. We went through several Sunday School teachers. Most of them cracked under the stress of dealing with us and the questions we would ask and the rambunctious behavior we became known for. They ran screaming. Then along came Andy Oshita. Andy was the kind of guy who gave the impression that if you pointed out the humor in his name you would get popped in the mouth. Of course he never hit anyone. He just gave the impression that he could take all three of us in a heartbeat with both hands tied behind his back. We feared him and we respected him. Mostly we respected him because we feared him but also because he respected us. He didn't talk down to us. He treated us like human beings. It was an interesting change. I hate to say it but he taught me a lot. Not about Mormonism or spirituality but about real shit. He didn't try to shove the typical lessons down our throats. We never read out of the Book of Mormon or the Bible. We sat around and talked about stuff. Colorado River Canoe Trip

Camp Chawanaki

Cover

Maybe an attic or other dark storage room, a box sitting in the middle labeled "The Saint I Ain't".

Writing

There are a lot of things stemming from my childhood that I need to sort through, like so many metaphorical boxes in my metaphorical attic. This is sort of a mental Spring Cleaning. If only it too could end in a Yard Sale.