On and off for 30 years I’ve wondered, “Who changed the ‘R’ on the water tower to spell Sexburg, and WHY didn’t I get a picture?!”
Today, an old classmate posted a pic on Facebook of some new scrawl that reads, “Save Ferris.” The young ones still tag the highest peak in town, it seems, with a reverential nod to their parents, no less. Beuller is timeless, true, but he belongs to us. He was our charming, delightfully naughty peer.
I scrolled down the comments for ownership of Sexburg – I knew it would be there – and there it was! The shot I’ve wanted for years! Apparently, it made the paper.
In Rexburg, high temperatures made cover stories (featuring my cute little 2-yr.-old brother). While the water tower was certainly big news, I would think Rexburg too prudish to gratify graffitists with a pictorial. More shocking still was learning that it remained unrepaired for nearly a year. I don’t remember that. Finally, some woman complained to the Standard Journal. That sounds right.
So there you have it: Sexburg, Idaho. My pent-up, horny, abstinence-only hometown. Pretty funny for a Mormon village. “I wish I believed in God,” I often say. “That’s one fine, omniscient sense of humor.”
Here in His holiest city, we have Tshirts that read “SLUT,” for Salt Lake, UT. You just can’t make this stuff up! It’s one of my favorite things, that Mecca and its sacrosanct ‘burg were ripe for such wicked, delicious pun.