Utah has been full of surprises since we moved here a little over four years ago. The outdoors is stunning, the neighbors are friendly, and the Mormon community has been… well, unexpectedly chill. For a state so closely tied to one proselytizing religion, we’ve experienced a shocking lack of recruitment attempts. Seriously, just one visit from some sweet young women six months after we first moved in?! A small part of me wonders if we should feel offended that they haven’t tried harder!

In all seriousness, we’ve made friends with several adherents of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and they’re amazingly warm, welcoming, and nonjudgmental people. We learn so much from them.

Today, in anticipation of seeing The Book of Mormon in downtown Salt Lake City, we watched the South Park episode, All About the Mormons. I am pumped to see this Broadway production, created by Trey Parker and Matt Stone, who are also the brains behind South Park, IN THE CAPITAL of the Mormon Church(!!).

Only Mormons could welcome a Broadway musical roasting their religion to their own sacred ground and smile through it all. That’s like hosting your own roast at your home and then offering your critics cookies on their way out. Respect.

This whole "live and let live" vibe is perfectly captured in that South Park episode. If you haven’t seen it, it’s a mix of hilarious stereotypes and a heartfelt message. Gary, the strait-laced and super-nice Mormon teenager, calmly explaining to Stan that you don’t have to believe what I believe to be my friend?! Magic! Except it’s so much harder than it sounds—especially when someone’s choices feel wildly different from your own. But maybe Gary was onto something: openness beats judgment every time.

What does any of this have to do with being sober-curious or becoming more mindful about alcohol? Good question! As someone who has adopted mindful drinking, I’m often straddling the fence between different camps. Some people are completely sober, whether it’s for health, religious reasons, or because they partied way too hard in their twenties (no judgment, friends!). Others fall into the mindful drinking crowd—a glass of wine here, a mocktail there or starting the night off with a loaded Guinness before switching over to Guinness 0 (try it sometimes, your taste buds won’t be able to tell the difference!)—and then there are the "moderate drinkers, because it’s good for my health!” who probably haven’t Googled the phrase "alcohol health risks" since 2013. And here’s the thing: these groups often judge the hell out of each other. Sound familiar? It’s basically the adult version of Stan losing it over Gary’s family being “too nice, it’s not normal!”

9.5/10 | Guinness 0 vs Guinness

Romina Boccia

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December 18, 2022

If you love Guinness, you’ll love the nonalcoholic version. Guinness somehow managed to brew a nearly identical twin without the alcohol.

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At our Jeffersonian dinners, we have a rule that was coined by my spouse, Grice, as part of teaching others to moderate these transformative conversations: “If you feel furious, get curious.” It’s amazing how quickly a heated conversation can cool down when you replace a snarky comment with a genuine question. Yet, whether the topic is personal health, politics, or religion, curiosity often goes out the window. Someone’s doing Dry January? Cue the eye rolls and, “Oh, Dry January is for people who can’t control themselves without arbitrary rules. Just moderate!” Someone else is ordering a third drink? Here comes, “Having another one, huh? Didn’t realize it was that kind of night.” These little jabs aren’t just unhelpful—they’re exhausting. What if, instead, we said something like, “What made you want to try Dry January?” or “How do you decide what works for you?” Imagine starting a conversation, rather than ending one.

Gary’s lesson in tolerance is borderline libertarian: live your life, let others live theirs—as long as nobody’s puking on your front lawn or putting others’ lives at risk by driving drunk, whose business is it, really? I’ve come to see drinking choices as deeply personal, shaped by everything from family history to how much you hate hangovers. Just as my Mormon friends have never once pressured me to convert, I try not to impose my mindful drinking values on anyone else. Instead, I focus on creating spaces where people can figure out what works for them—having unique nonalcoholic choices in my fridge without judging dinner guests who prefer wine, beer, or a finger of whiskey with their meal.

Life get so much richer when we swap judgment for curiosity. Whether it’s about religion, alcohol, or that one neighbor who keeps doing heavy breathing exercises while sitting on his roof (hi, Jordan!), the goal should always be the same: build bridges, not walls. Like Gary said, you don’t have to believe the same things to connect.

So today, when I settle in for The Book of Mormon with a group of joyful friends, I’ll be laughing at the satire while silently thanking the real-life Mormon community for practicing the art of live-and-let-live. And if someone is having a drink at intermission? I’ll cheer them with my sparkling water.