In 1992, I attended one of the first Natural Law Party rallies in Fairfield, but only because the girl I was dating babysat for the family whose estate it was held on. The lawn was segmented into quadrants filled with representatives of each of the 50 states. There was a large stage with Hagelin's picture and the Natural Law Party logo, consisting of a rainbow and puffy blue clouds. Roos were everywhere -- more than I had ever dreamed existed. People were playing acoustic guitars. Couples in their 40s were kissing, for Pete's sake. I was 16 years old and had never seen anything like it.

Soon after, I started gritting my teeth when I heard the word "roo" at the kitchen table. (A couple of years later, in what should have been a foreseeable linguistic development, the roos reclaimed the word, and today call themselves "roos" with good-humored impunity. In fact, the roos have a history of subverting townie spite -- in the early '80s, roo-mocking "Fly Iowa" hats were a big hit with the roos, to the chagrin of the creators.)

This May, Fairfield townies were in an uproar when MUM tore down Parson's Hall. Not only was the building a remnant of the historic, townie-loved Parson's College (on whose grounds MUM now stands), but it was being torn down because its doors did not have an eastern orientation, which could have, as MUM executive vice president Craig Pearson said, "negative and damaging effects" on those working inside it.

This is part of "vastu," the art of building design that fosters health, happiness and prosperity. Vastu has inspired homeowners and shopkeepers all over Fairfield to board up their southern entrances and, in some cases, knock down entire walls. Some townies argued that Vedic architecture is derived from the Hindu religion and, therefore, destroying a federally funded campus building like Parson's Hall violated the separation of church and state. (A roo friend of mine commented, "People take the Maharishi too literally. Next he'll tell you to board up your north entrance, then your east and west. Only then will people realize that the only way out is up.")

Taking lifestyle cues from a peaceful, bearded spiritual leader who lives in a compound far away does have obvious religious overtones. MUM has always sort of floated around, so to speak, in that taboo territory between science and religion, although TM practitioners insist that TM is not a religion and only enhances any beliefs you already practice. "The Transcendental Meditation technique is automatic," says the MUM Web site. "It does not require any belief. It works for everyone." The fee to learn this all-inclusive technique: $1,000.

But meditators claim that they've scientifically proved their "crime vaccine" -- essentially, a gathering of meditators whose accumulated good energy lowers the crime rate of a given locale, like Washington, D.C. (July 1993), or Kosovo (August 1999). As a press release on the Web site states, "When the group reached about 350 Yogic Flyers, the [Kosovo] destruction ended."

On the other hand, in Fairfield -- where 20 percent of the population meditates on a daily basis -- "criminal arrests on drug charges, weapons charges and for drunken driving increased dramatically in 1999," according to the Fairfield Ledger. The town's overcrowded jail was forced to send prisoners to five other Iowa jails in late 1999.

Considering that the Reform Party has become a group of political X-Men -- fringe candidates whose mutant powers are not yet accepted by the human race -- a levitating nuclear physicist like Hagelin seems a perfect leader. Unfortunately, he may merely be in the right place at the right time: Some Republicans are backing Hagelin simply to prevent Pat Buchanan from getting the disputed Reform Party nomination (and the $12.6 million in federal funds that the Federal Election Commission is deciding which of the two candidates is entitled to). Of course, if Hagelin does get the nomination, there's no way he'll receive the 5 percent of the vote that would entitle the Reform Party to any future federal funds -- which could, in effect, bring an end to the party. Even in Jefferson County, where Fairfield is the only major township, Hagelin received only 23 percent of the presidential vote in 1992 and 21 percent in 1996.

Ominous Maharishi proclamations like "Democracy must be replaced by a system of administration that will create an integrated unified nation" and perplexing platform statements like "Natural law is the orderly principles -- the laws of nature -- that govern the functioning of nature everywhere, from atoms to ecosystems to galaxies" only succeed in frightening people. Instead of trying to push concepts such as the "crime vaccine" and "divine rule" (which, by most folks' common logic, leads to "divine rulers") on an unsuspecting America, perhaps the TM movement should spend more time disseminating the practical and personal uses of TM through more traditional outlets -- radio, magazines and the talk show circuit.

Me, I love the roos. After I graduated from high school and moved away from Fairfield, I began to appreciate them more than ever. Their worst offense was that, on occasion, they seemed agreeably naive. But on the whole they were kind, courteous, artistic -- and ultimately very conscious -- people. They cared about what was happening in their community. They cared about what was happening in the world. They cared about what was happening to one another. And a byproduct of their presence was the most wonderfully multicultural small town in the Midwest.

It saddens me to hear that MUM is now looking into breaking off into its own city (tentatively called "Golden"). Separating from Fairfield would not be a good sign -- if the roos can't reach a community understanding within Fairfield, Iowa, they can hardly expect to succeed politically on a national level.

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