oh give me a home, where the buffalo roam.....
I had the occasion to be in Central Oregon this weekend. There is a potential relocation for me on the horizon, and I kinda wanted to spend the weekend making the scene (I don’t know if I made the scene or not, as I really don’t know what “making the scene” entails, but I liked the sound of it, so there you go). You sorta probably should check a place out before you go all like, moving there and stuff. Now, I don’t recall going through customs of any kind, and I’m pretty ‘bout sure I don’t even have a passport, but I swear I was in a foreign country.
See, I’m from Portland. Granted, Portland is no Manhattan, or Los Angeles, or Dallas, I admit it’s not even any Seattle. But it’s a city, nonetheless. Central Oregon has things called cities in it, but for someone used to an actual city, I’m hesitant to call what Central Oregon has, “a city.” I mean, there were stores, and gas stations and stuff, but Bend? 55000 people. That’s like, how many people are shopping at the grocery store near me on a Friday. That’s the biggest “city.” The next biggest? Redmond. Population 13500. Prineville…. Care to take a guess? 7800. I am not kidding. I felt like I should take up hunting or four-wheeling or something, it was crazy.
The most fascinating thing to me though, was the uncanny ability the people (I suppose I should be calling them “folks”) have to completely disregard the conventions of modern society (okay, I’ll go ahead and be a snob, what I mean is their disregard of what I think is acceptable). I saw more 1987 mall bangs than I’ve seen in a long time. Well, since 1987, if I’m honest. I think there were some acid washed jeans walking around strapped to some body's legs at the Safeway, too, if I’m not mistaken. And every second person, male and female was walking around with a rusty beer can to spit their chaw leavin’s into. I saw several children with mullets, male and female. I actually saw someone eat first chips and salsa, then a tamale with their dentures on the table.
Now, I’m at a very comfortable place on the “letting go scale.” I’d say I’m a good 35 to 40 percent “let go.” I’ve learned to drive through for coffee on Saturday mornings with jammie bottoms, a sweatshirt, a ponytail and some lip-gloss. I can put in piggie tails and wear a stocking cap in order to get another day out of my hair. I’ll even wear slacks that I’ve just pulled out of the dryer and not ironed. This is pretty darned “let go” if you ask me.
But, if I relocate? Watch out. I’m going to go to Mach 10 on the “letting go” scale and all ya’ll just better look the heck out! When in Rome……
arrivederci, rebecca marie
See, I’m from Portland. Granted, Portland is no Manhattan, or Los Angeles, or Dallas, I admit it’s not even any Seattle. But it’s a city, nonetheless. Central Oregon has things called cities in it, but for someone used to an actual city, I’m hesitant to call what Central Oregon has, “a city.” I mean, there were stores, and gas stations and stuff, but Bend? 55000 people. That’s like, how many people are shopping at the grocery store near me on a Friday. That’s the biggest “city.” The next biggest? Redmond. Population 13500. Prineville…. Care to take a guess? 7800. I am not kidding. I felt like I should take up hunting or four-wheeling or something, it was crazy.
The most fascinating thing to me though, was the uncanny ability the people (I suppose I should be calling them “folks”) have to completely disregard the conventions of modern society (okay, I’ll go ahead and be a snob, what I mean is their disregard of what I think is acceptable). I saw more 1987 mall bangs than I’ve seen in a long time. Well, since 1987, if I’m honest. I think there were some acid washed jeans walking around strapped to some body's legs at the Safeway, too, if I’m not mistaken. And every second person, male and female was walking around with a rusty beer can to spit their chaw leavin’s into. I saw several children with mullets, male and female. I actually saw someone eat first chips and salsa, then a tamale with their dentures on the table.
Now, I’m at a very comfortable place on the “letting go scale.” I’d say I’m a good 35 to 40 percent “let go.” I’ve learned to drive through for coffee on Saturday mornings with jammie bottoms, a sweatshirt, a ponytail and some lip-gloss. I can put in piggie tails and wear a stocking cap in order to get another day out of my hair. I’ll even wear slacks that I’ve just pulled out of the dryer and not ironed. This is pretty darned “let go” if you ask me.
But, if I relocate? Watch out. I’m going to go to Mach 10 on the “letting go” scale and all ya’ll just better look the heck out! When in Rome……
arrivederci, rebecca marie
proclaimed by rebecca marie at 8:52 PM
0 flattering compliments:
Post a Comment
<< Home