Twenty-year-old man: When I was a Mormon I was told that I was a member of the most righteous generation, charged with the assignment of ushering in the apocalypse.
Thirty-something woman: I was told that too.
Mark and I: So were we.
Woman in her sixties: So was I.
Gent in his eighties: Me too.
Now, doubters and anti-Mormons might jump to the erroneous conclusion that this is yet another example of the Mormons' penchant for passing down lies to their children. But last night, over wine and cioppino at Annabelle's, Mark and I came to a different conclusion.
The Greatest Generation? I don't think so. Baby Boomers? Weren't booming enough. Generations X, Y, and Z? Not too promising either.
Face it, with loser generations like ours in the lineup, the moon won't be turning to blood anytime soon--leaving poor Jesus to roll his eyes, pace back and forth in his heavenly green room and wonder when the hell God is finally going to produce the kind of Mormon talent that is worthy enough to blow us all to smithereens.
We thought that deserved a toast!