I'm a little confused regarding the various definitions of "irony," but I bet it fits here somewhere--maybe in Chapter 10: "Confronting Creationists"

This afternoon I had sat down to a late lunch and was browsing through my copy of Michael Shermer's Why People Believe Weird Things when the doorbell rang. I jumped from my seat quickly,endangering the integrity of my book's spine by laying it face down to keep my place, hurrying because Jillian had just fallen asleep for her nap and I didn't want the doorbell to ring again and wake her. I had a hint of what to expect, because out of the corner of my eye I thought I had glimpsed through the window a couple of sets of white shirts and black pants.

It was a couple of Mormons, Elders Someone-or-Other and Someone Else. They were the typical clean-cut young men who do their church's door-to-door operation.

There was a time when I would have been very annoyed; I take a dim view of door-to-door proselytizing in general, but I've mellowed in recent years. It used to offend me somewhat, and I entertained the idea (but never acted upon it) of causing trouble and vexation for people engaged in this activity. I really don't have a desire to do that anymore, though.

Also, the Mormons used to weird me out a little more than they do now. Sure, their oddball heritage and theology stand out in a broad field of weird things people believe. Over the past ten years, though, I learned more about them and met a number of them. Also, Salt Lake City is a neat town.

Theological disagreements and our strong differences regarding important social issues notwithstanding, I've found those Latter Day Saints to be pretty good folks. I wouldn't mind having them as neighbors; in fact, I've had some, and they were swell. In many ways, they really tend to have their acts together.

Anyway, the two Elders at my door engaged me in unwanted conversation. One of them had noted the "Feed a Starving Artist" bumper sticker on my Festiva, and asked about my art. It's hard to find a polite way to cut out the small talk, so I chatted for a few minutes, waiting for them to get to stop beating around the bush. Finally, they asked about religion and whether I was interested in learning more about Jesus--they gave me a card with a picture of the Saviour on one side and information on the reverse for ordering a free Jesus DVD. When I told them I wasn't interested, they inquired as to why, but I refused to answer. It's very true what they say about the wisdom of avoiding discussion of politics and religion in polite conversation, and I wanted our relationship to remain amicable. Even if I had been honest and forthright, I'm sure we could have spent a delightful couple of hours chatting, but my lunch was sitting on the table getting cold.

I told them I hoped that they would continue to enjoy the very pleasant weather, and wished them a good afternoon. I kept their card, and realized as I walked back to the table that it would make a perfect bookmark. It's now marking my place in the chapter on witch trial crazes.

Here is a picture of it. I think the artist captured Jesus' likeness remarkably well. I could tell who it was right away!
"Rejoice! For I have marked your spot."