I got to classifying people as I saw them come in and leave.  For instance, there were two guys leaving at one point, one in particular who just screamed "stereotype", that I happened to notice.  This guy had long, stringy, dirty hair, a trucker hat, cut-off denim shorts, a grimy moustache and was wearing flip-flops.  Obviously, his label was White Trash.  He was a very loyal and upstanding member of the White Trash society too, and likely paid his membership dues proudly.  I didn’t notice if his wallet was connected to a belt loop with a chain though.  I assume it was.

Later on, a family walked in.  This family was composed of the father, mother, and three kids.  The father was maybe between 28 and 30 years old, and the mother perhaps 27ish, and the kids seemed to be spaced evenly every two years or so, from maybe seven at the oldest, five in the middle, and three to the little one.  The mother also had another parasite in the oven, as witnessed by the bulge, so I’m guessing happy number four was due in about four months or so.  Their label, henceforth,  was Mormon.

Well, actually, can Mormon be a label?  I think it can be.  It qualifies, because "Mormon" describes a lifestyle.  White Trash is a lifestyle.  Preppy is a lifestyle.  You can lump Mormon into a more descriptive term, like "Conservative" or "Republican."  Mormons typically tend to be those things, but I think the word "Mormon" applies nicely by itself.  There is a distinctive and noticeable style that the faith seems to bring out.

All of this got me thinking:  What is my label?  If I were forced to wear a little tag that described my social status in the community, what would it say?  I don’t know exactly what category I fit into.

Let’s look at my dress.  I would be what you’d call "super conservative."  T-shirt and jeans all the way, and plain colors to boot.  Occasionally, I might get "all dressed up" and wear a shirt with a collar, but that’s rare.  And nothing short of a wedding or a funeral can get me to wear a tie, and even then you’re pushing it.  Ties are tools of the Devil, and I refuse to wear them.  Even if it were my own wedding or funeral, there better not be a tie.  I will boastfully say however, with my build, I can rock a suit.  Good luck getting me to wear one though.  Anyway, my style of dress would stick me into the "conservative" category, but it doesn’t describe me very well.

I have longish hair.  Not White Trash long, and I wash it and comb it every day.  I sometimes sport facial hair, but never just a moustache.  I also carry my wallet in my back pocket, sans chain.  So I don’t fit the White Trash label either.  That’s a good thing too.

I’m not Preppy.  I don’t have an orange fake-tan face or a shit eating grin.  Even if I did  wear a collared shirt, I wouldn’t pop the collar.  There have been lots of recent style trends that look stupid, but popped collars is the king of retarded fashion.  And please don’t even think of a argument for it.  I am right about this, and that settles it.  If you walk around with your collar popped thinking you look cool, you are wrong.  Period.  Stupid Preppies.

I’m not Mormon either.  I suppose out of all the three categories I’ve mentioned, just by look alone, Mormon would seem to fit.  If you study me a bit closer though, or get to know me, you’ll find that it’s not the case.  Seeing me holding a beer might be the first tip off, but the longish hair and the tattoo could be a clue too.  Besides, even if my dress is conservative, my politics and my manner certainly are not.  So strike three.  I don’t fit in that box either.

I guess I just don’t know.  I’m just me.  Kind of a generic mix of everything and nothing.  I’m too old to be "collegiate."  I’m pure-bred white American.  No trace of anything other than Cracker in my appearance, except a little Irish heritage, so there’s no racial label for me.  Maybe one of my friends can chime in here and tell me.  I welcome all opinions.

In the meantime, if you had a label, what would it be?  Do you fit into a mold, or sort of stand outside? 

No, I’m not Mormon.  As far as I know, there’s not a single bit of Mormon history anywhere in my family.  I will admit I didn’t even know what a Mormon really was before I moved here.  Sure, I’ve seen the TV commercials when I was a kid.  I remember them vaguely, having something to do with happy families or responsibility or lying. They were always bright and happy, and each one ended with a voiceover saying “from the Mormons! The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.” Beyond this, I had no ideas.

I’ve also had people ask, “Are you going to become a Mormon?” I think that’s an interesting question too, and the inflection is different depending on who is asking. If someone from outside the state asks, it’s usually with distain. They say “Mormon” like it’s a curse. If it’s someone from Utah, and especially if it’s a member of the Church, it’s spoken more from disbelief, as if joining the church is simply a given, and they can’t understand why I wouldn’t want to. The way the question is asked says a lot.

I can tell you one of the reasons I’m not a Mormon though, and it’s a simple answer. I’m not from around here. I didn’t grow up with that culture. I’m sure if I had hailed from Utah or Idaho or even Nevada, there would have been that possibility. However, where I’m from, Mormons are simply unheard of.

Thinking back, I did know some Mormons growing up. It never occurred to me then, and they didn’t advertise themselves in any way. I remember thinking it odd that this family had six or seven kids, and every couple of years a new one would arrive, but I suppose I just shrugged it off as a big family. To each their own.

When I lived in an apartment in Columbus, Ohio, a nice young couple moved in across the breezeway from me. The woman was about 22ish, and her husband was maybe 24-25 at the most. I thought they were way young, but they were cool. What struck me most about them was how friendly they always seemed. I remember them taking a blanket out into the yard in front of the apartment on occasion and sitting together, reading out of a book which I assumed was a bible or something. They were spiritual and joyful, and really good people. Roughly six or so months later, they had a cute little baby and a whole new round of excitement and joy spread through the building. Again, thinking back, they were obviously LDS. I didn’t see it though, and even the BYU license plate bracket on their car didn’t tip me off. I was that naive. They moved away shortly thereafter and I never really got a chance to know them all that well.

I’m not relating all of this to be judgmental. I have nothing against other people’s beliefs, and I’m not patronizing anyone.  I’m simply saying that I believe religion is as much cultural as anything else. Where you grow up and what the people around you believe has a big impact on what you believe. It’s tough to break away from something when it’s all you’ve known your whole life. I was raised pretty much non-denominational, although the church I regularly attended was Methodist. I grew up with these principles and never really questioned them until later. To me, that’s simply how things were. Since I was surrounded by like-minded people, I simply assumed that other religions were wrong. Everything I knew what right, and if you believed otherwise, you were simply misinformed. It’s very cultural.

These days I’m not religious at all. I received my own personal revelation some years back, and I have a very strong faith that it’s the correct way to think. Namely, that God (or whatever Deity you believe in) doesn’t care what religion you follow. I was made to understand that earthly religions were important only so far as that people need structure to believe. All the rules set forth by scripture or revelation is nothing more than mans feeble attempt to put human structure and interpretation into something he can barely comprehend. It’s all made-up. God wants simply for you to be a good person, to the best of your abilities. None of that other stuff is even slightly important. In fact, the impression that I got is that God’s take on organized religion was pure amusement. I don’t know… I think it’s important to believe in something bigger than yourself, and to have faith that you can make the right decisions and do the right things, but I don’t need an organization or a church to tell me what to do or wear or say or think. Yes. I believe that’s it. I managed to make it personal, and ignore the cultural pressure. I made the right choice.

Anyway, that’s why I don’t subscribe. I may live in Utah, but I’m not a part of the culture. I’ll never be a part of the culture, because I’ve been able to break away and find my own spiritual path. I don’t need a structure and I don’t need a culture to tell me what’s right and what’s wrong. Some people do.  In fact, I’d say that most people do.  For me however, I can find it within myself.