Tuesday, August 15, 2017

What's Wrong With Coming From the Northeast?

Last year, my son and I took a trip out west. It was the second year in a row that we went out west during the summer, although the idea that I had for last year's trip was that we would travel far and wide in the limited time of a couple of weeks that we had while out there. In short, I wanted to make sure that we got a little taste of everything.

Well, that was very nearly a year ago, and yet, somehow, I still find myself reminiscing about the trip. It really was just wonderful, and despite it being busy and chaotic on some levels, we did indeed get a taste of almost everything that the west offers. We went through the Mojave and Sonoran deserts, and even into the Great Basin. We got to see Yosemite and the Grand Canyon again, this time from the North Rim. We stood under the canopy of the towering and majestic California Redwoods, and got to experience the lush green hills of the Pacific Northwest in the process. We finally got to be in the Rockies, and got to visit the ancient Pueblo dwellings at Mesa Verde. We appreciated the beauty of San Francisco, and enjoyed the Fountains of Bellagio under the half scale Eiffel Tower in Las Vegas. We made it to Nogales, Mexico, for a second year in a row. We even got a surprise day in Texas, in the Dallas-Fort Worth area, which was not really part of my initial plan. 

In short, it was a remarkable trip. We spent nights in California, Nevada, Arizona, Utah, Colorado, New Mexico, and Texas. While we did not do everything that I had initially planned for or expected, what was left out probably proved best in the end, and what was added proved incredibly valuable. Sometimes, admittedly, I marvel at just how successful we were at truly getting a taste of how much the west has to offer during our trip.

There were a lot of pleasant memories from that trip, although one day in particular stood out for me, personally, and for several reasons, at that. That would be our day in Colorado, in the Rocky Mountains. As mentioned earlier, that was the second year in a row that we took a trip out west, but when I found out just how close we had been to Colorado and the Rockies the previous year, while staying at Flagstaff, I felt almost disappointed that we had not taken that kind of day then. So, when we reached Colorado in the wee hours (after almost hitting some apparently wild horses roaming free on the highway in the middle of the night), I was elated!

Frankly, there were several things that made that particular day memorable, and left a sweet set of memories for me. We arrived frankly too late at night, or too early in the morning if you prefer, for me to feel comfortable rolling into the campground that we had reservations for. I imagined driving on the gravel, lights flashing brightly, and then our neighbors for the night having to hear car doors slamming and the sounds of chaos as we tried to set up our tent, or perhaps not, but at least went to the bathroom, and all of that. So, I decided instead to simply pull over before we reached Durango (our main destination for the Rockies, other than Mesa Verde), and just get a few hours of shut eye. My son had fallen asleep quite a while before, understandably. And as thrilled as I was to be in Colorado, as much as I was trying to make out the shapes of the Rockies, I did somehow manage to get a few hours of sleep - maybe two or three, anyway. 

In the early morning, as it was still mostly dark, but with a ribbon of the approaching dawn clearly visible in the horizon, I woke up. Still tired, but now suddenly energized as well and too excited to fall asleep again, I stepped outside to go to the bathroom, marveling at how quiet it was. Now, the mountains were visible, although they looked more like hills. We could see pines, which are associated with the Rockies, as well. It was very chilly, so I turned on the heat in the car, and with my son still asleep, drove to Durango, where there was barely more life yet. The streets were still largely empty.

I found the campground that we were supposed to stay at but, funnily enough, decided to pass it. It was on a hill, and the top of the hill seemed to give out on some views of surrounding mountains, which was one of the main reasons for going there to begin with, of course. And so, I spent the first part of the morning driving around, taking pictures of farms with mountains in the background.

Here are some of those pictures:

This was the early morning view that I had shortly after waking up, as the sun was just rising in the east.





We did eventually wind up at the campground, and immediately showered and cleaned up, then had breakfast (which was delicious!). We played a round of miniature golf, and then spent a lot of time at the dog park. Up to this point, my son had always seemed a little nervous and surprisingly uncomfortable around dogs, but he fell in love with them there. If he could have, he might have wanted to spend the entire day there! But we had places to go, and were in Colorado only for the day. Still, we made a point of getting in a swim before going out for our Colorado visit.






It wound up being a wonderful visit! At the advice of some locals, we traveled along what was known as the "Million Dollar Highway." There, we did indeed see some of those famous towering mountain peaks of the Rockies in all of their majesty. And later, we managed to get a decent visit of Mesa Verde, particularly of the Cliff Palace and the Balcony House.

The Rocky Mountains and Mesa Verde:




















Mesa Verde:








Obviously, all of that made it a very memorable day, although there was another thing that really stood out for me on that day. Everyone we encountered seemed incredibly nice. Almost everyone looked at us full in the eye, which is rare in my home state of New Jersey. And most people smiled and said hello, and would try to engage us in friendly conversation. It made the day much more pleasant, and yet I would be lying if it also did not have the effect of making me wonder what was wrong with me! Again, in New Jersey, you just do not generally encounter that kind of easy going friendliness, which made the day particularly pleasant. Not for the first time, or the second or the third, even, I began to ask myself just what in the hell I was still doing in Jersey.

Really, why does it have to be this way? Why do we have to go almost all the way to the other side of the country - and obviously far, far away from New Jersey - to encounter legitimately friendly, well-mannered people who invite you into their lives in a small way, with some friendly conversation. I suddenly felt like a very rude and self-centered guy from the overly busy and crowded northeaster, in every negative way possible.

On top of it, we saw clearly that not only did the people out west seem generally and genuinely friendlier, but there was a lot more to see, on top of it. Some incredible landscapes that made sunrises and sunsets incredibly dramatic! Mountains and endless valleys, deserts and just tons and tons of space to breathe, room for new perspectives. We had known all of this before, of course. But this trip really hammered that lesson home.

Not surprisingly, it was with some reluctance and dragging of the feet that the arrival back in New Jersey came. Here we are again, back in the state known mostly as a toxic waste dump by some. Back in a state where many take pride in being rude and nasty, often thinking it a good thing to appear "hardened" and world worn. Back in a state where huge sections of it feature shoulder to shoulder housing and serious overcrowding, where prices are as inflated as the population density, and where certain highways give out on unpleasant and uninspiring views of warehouses and power plants and landfills, particularly in the northeastern section of the state.

Recently, I ran into this article that more or less encapsulates some of the paradoxes of being from the overcrowded northeast. Again, some people take pride in being nasty and/or having an attitude, and see it as a sign of being tough and world weary. Here, the title of the article already shows serious attitude, and I guess I should apologize for adding it, given the strong language. But while it can be funny, and admittedly, there were some points which I felt I could relate to, overall, it felt almost bittersweet, knowing that it was both relevant and, frankly, a bit depressing.

It made me wonder, again not for the first or second or third time, why I find myself still living in New Jersey, when many other places seem to draw me far more.

Take a look at the article (see link below), and see for yourself, perhaps especially if you are from the northeast. It might be amusing, yet if you are like me, perhaps you will find it a little overly cliché and a bit tiresome. It made me wonder what could possibly be so wrong with being well-mannered and pleasant, like people in the Midwest are famously supposed to be. Is that supposed to be a sign of weakness or naïveté, something to be avoided? And if so, what does that say about us here in the northeast? Is it a good thing?

Take a look for yourself:



APRIL 22, 2015 19 Signs You’re A Superior Asshole From The Northeast By Maya Kachroo-Levine

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