A Permanent Home???

It is a mind-boggling new place, the place we now live. Yes, it is intended to be a permanent residence. I think about 5 years is permanent for Katherine and I. For most of our life together we have been gypsies, wanderers who have tried many locations and many challenges. So where is this mind-boggling new “permanent location?” Redwood City, California.

Redwood City is 24 miles south of San Francisco. The claim to fame here is: “Climate Best by  Government Test.” Apparently the U.S. Government gathered weather and climate data for every location on earth for years. In 1925 it was proclaimed that three locations share the title of “best climate on earth.” These locations are the Canary Islands, the African Coast of the Mediterranean and Redwood City. Thus, since that time, “Climate Best by Government Test” has served as Redwood City’s motto. The average high temperature from April through October is 77 degrees and 63 degrees for the balance of the year. The average rainfall is about 20 inches. The sun shines nearly every day.

The home we chose, or more aptly stated, as is often the case, the home that chose us is in an area intersected by a network of waterways off of San Francisco Bay known as Redwood Shores. Our town- home graces the edge of one of those waterways. We have many neighbors but the most interesting are the birds, waterfowl, and wild animals. Resident geese graze on the lawns and obstruct traffic; squirrels scamper up and down trees; jack rabbits sun themselves at the foot of our deck. One morning I watched 2 adult raccoons clamber down a tree outside our window. Another morning a 4 foot gopher snake startled us as we walked on the nearby Bay Trail. My favorite visitors are the long legged Egrets that hunt delicacies as they wade by the window where I sit to write. It is a mind-boggling re-attachment to nature after two years in Manhattan and three months in San Francisco.

Our home grew from 700 square feet in Manhattan and San Francisco to 2000 square feet in Redwood City. New furniture became a necessity. A shopping spree for additional furniture has resulted. Today’s delivery will fill all rooms but one. Oh that’s right, there’s a new computer desk with a hutch in the garage waiting to be assembled. Yuk!

Living in California is a mind-boggling experience for me. Being a Washingtonian I always resented Californians. They invaded or as we said, californicated our beautiful state. They used our freeways, bought property, built houses and taught us the California stop. Now I am one of them. I find most to be friendly, liberal and thoughtful. It does feel strange to be here though. I’m still getting used to seeing the hated garb of Stanford, Cal-Berkley, the 49ers and the Giants instead of the Huskies, Cougars, Seahawks and Mariners. Perhaps I will adjust but then maybe not.

Stan the Man

  

More Mind-Boggling Differences Observed

My recent travels through the deep south of this fine country of ours opened my eyes once again. For my purposes the Deep South wouldn’t include South Florida. It seems to begin around Ocala, Florida as you travel north. Then one is deep into the culture of the Deep South through the Florida Panhandle, Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana and a big part of Texas. The folks you meet along the way are, for the most part, about as friendly and helpful as you can find, and seemingly genuine. They aren’t superficial like inhabitants of the Great Northwest, they aren’t self absorbed and angry like New Yorkers. Most of them are not transplants like the populations of many cities. I’ve never met a resident of Miami who was born and raised there, except some second generation Cubanos. Transplants typically bring their own culture and are slow to adopt the culture of their new place of residence.

A large part of the population of the Deep South has been born, raised and never strayed from their locale. I talked to adults who had never been across a state line thirty miles down the highway. Others had never heard of cities at the other end of their own state. You have to figure these folks haven’t been exposed to much in the way of outside ideas. They do watch TV and it seems listen to a lot of radio. I was exposed to their radio programming as I drove through the Deep South. One morning Rush Limbaugh was on four stations at once and another four stations were broadcasting religious programming (I don’t mean church services or music). I’m talking political diatribes similar to Rush. This mode of communication or dare I say education seems to be part of the Deep South culture.

These radio stations, from my perspective, promote ultra-conservative and extreme right views. Fine with me except they dominate the air waves and on a 10 hour drive I can’t find any decent music. Admittedly, I have another issue with the phenomenon. It is always presented as a rant, as a diatribe, as an attack on one liberal or another. The material is presented as if the character on the radio has exclusive access to the truth. Furthermore it is his or her obligation and right to scream at the listener about the subject matter they are preaching on this particular day. I notice two approaches as they carry on loudly: They talk as if the know the facts, as if they have the proof of what they are saying but they don’t bother sharing it with the listeners. And when they do attempt to provide proof it is usually a snippet taken out of context. It might be from some obscure document or newspaper article or perhaps the bible. The message is, “just listen to me and believe. Don’t worry about the details or proof.”

So I drove through the Deep South getting more and more claustophobic. Driving mile after mile on the interstate, feeling separated from the world by a wall of green. Yes, tall green trees. Granted they are beautiful and I’m the first to enjoy nature. But it goes on and on and that’s all you see for miles on end. I got so curious what this wall of green was hiding. Does anyone live out there to listen to these radio stations? The consistent barrage from the radio stations that never seems to change helped promote my claustophobia as well. I was much relieved to reach the desert lands of New Mexico and Arizona with the classic rock stations of university towns like Albuquerque and Flagstaff.

I recognize this post reflects some of my biases. I own them. They are mine.

Stan the Man