Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Country Squirrel, City Squirrel

A few weeks ago I took the family to Connecticut to celebrate Grandpa’s 70th birthday. After living in the mountains for the last 12 years and living west of the Mississippi for the last 22 years, I’ve gotten used to folks that are more relaxed and less stressed than the folks I met in Connecticut. Just so you can appreciate how good we have it here in the mountains, let me describe for you some of the differences I saw between living in the Rockies and living on the East Coast…

First of all, out west, we have a LOT of room to roam around. With all of the National Forests, BLM land, and open space, we can easily get away from the crowds and enjoy a bit of peace and quiet almost any time we want. Back East (I grew up in “Jersey”, so I always refer to the East Coast as “Back East”) everything is pretty crowded. The only way to get some peace and quiet is to take a walk along the shore or get out into the sound on a boat. Good luck if you want to drive anywhere – the roads don’t go straight and the drivers are insane.

I can only guess that long ago, when our forefathers (and foremothers!) created the first towns and cities they had no idea what a straight line was. Instead, fascinated by circles, they choose to connect the trails and roads (usually no less than 5 or 6) with circles at almost every intersection. Today, in the middle of those circles, are flowerbeds that surely mark the grave of some poor schmuck that got caught going around the circles and never made it out alive.

We bought Grandpa a GPS for his truck so that he wouldn’t get lost going to all the places in and around his home town that he’s gone to for the last 54 years. When we set it up for him and gave it a test it would verbally give directions in a calm female voice - “Turn left at the next intersection”, “Turn right in 50 yards”, or “You have arrived at your destination.” I decided that it really needed a true test, so I set a course from one side of town to the other, passing through 6 or seven different traffic circles. By the 3rd traffic circle the calm female voice had become somewhat grumpy and annoyed. By the 5th traffic circle the voice was obviously annoyed and irritated. By the last traffic circle the voice became angry and abusive – “Turn, turn, turn!!!”, “Slow down or you’ll miss the exit!”, “Who the heck designed these stupid streets!” At our destination the GPS burst into flames, worn out by the spider’s web of streets and traffic circles. I brought it back to the store and got grandpa a tie and a bottle of his favorite wine.

Out West, we have the mountains to tell us which way is North (and East, South, and West). Back East, if you can see it, the Ocean is the landmark that tells you if you’re going North or South. Obviously, going too far East is not an option while driving. Out West we have mile markers to tell us how far we’ve gone and to check the calibration on our speedometer. Back East there’s a Dunkin Doughnuts every few miles to tell you how far you’ve gone and remind you that a cup of coffee and a box of chocolate glazed doughnut holes would make the perfect snack any time of the day.

Interestingly enough, there is less fast food to be found back East than you find in Colorado. After asking my inlaws about that, they looked at me like I was an idiot (true, sometimes) and told me simply “The local mom-and-pop restaurants, delis, and sandwich shops have all the business wrapped-up. Everyone around here has their favorite place, so why would they bother to go to Denny’s, Chili’s or TGIFridays?!?” How true, how true. I did my best while I was there to support the local economy – I feasted on corn beef and pastrami sandwiches at the local delis, bought bagels and doughnuts at the local bakery, and gorged myself on pizza at every opportunity. In between these eating safaris I also squeezed in some saltwater fishing and a trip to the local diner. What a great trip!

As much as I enjoyed seeing my inlaws and a bunch of my cousins, it was great to get home and have some room to roam. I always feel a bit cramped when I’m back East. I guess I’m just spoiled, living the good life in the Colorado mountains.