When I was a kid, I thought that the states really did have lines between them. After all, I’d never been on plane so I couldn’t see the states from above. But when we went to Oregon in our car, we’d cross a state line and signs on either side would say “You’re Leaving…” and “Welcome to…”. I just figured that I didn’t see the actual line because we happened to be passing through the space between the dashes.
When I was 24, I learned the awful truth. I felt a bit like an idiot by then, so I didn’t mention my disappointment to my friends traveling with me. Instead, I started to guess when one state ended and another started.
That proved to be an impossible task. There really is no physical end of one state and start of another.
But there are plenty of differences between states once you’re on the ground.
Coming from the Pacific Northwest, I knew that we were a bit different. We just move to a different beat out here, one that is very different from even our closest neighbors. We are certainly a lot different than those in California.
The difference is like night and day once you cross the Mississippi. East Coast is very different from the West Coast and certainly Seattle. I learned this the hard way in Florida.
As I’ve said several times here, there’s not wrong with Florida, it’s just different. And I found the differences hard to get used to sometimes. Some of the differences are very “free love,” far more liberal than Washington. For instance, you can take kids into bars. You can carry a drink around with you, if you’re not acting like a drunkard. The government lets you talk on the phone there, and turn signals come as an option on your car.
There are downsides, too. It’s nearly impossible to be a liberal in Florida. I know how Republicans feel in Washington now. Even though I’m not a Democrat, on more than one occasion I was surprised not to find a burning cross on my front yard. Well, the yard of the condo, since I don’t really have a yard.
They are also a pious lot too. Church is a big thing in Florida. Lots of people go to church. They even offer church on the beach, which is about the closest I ever came to going to church there. Unfortunately the church going tide seemed to be out every Sunday, so I was unable to make it, even though they serve Bloody Marys afterwards in the bar across the street.
This would never happen in Seattle. There’s not enough people going to church to warrant a trip to the beach. I know this because of one thing – mall hours.
In Florida, malls don’t open until noon Outside of the pagan Wal-Mart, nothing does. That’s because people are in church. Good Christians don’t shop before church is out, so the malls don’t even bother opening before the noon hour.
In Seattle, there’s a buck to be made. The malls open at 11 a.m. instead, and some stores open even earlier. Yes, the people here worship, but many just choose to worship the almighty dollar instead of the big guy upstairs.
That is, until Easter. Easter came and went Sunday. I was planning to spend the day shopping. I wanted some new clothes for my new job, so why not spend the day out at my favorite stores.
It didn’t occur to me that my favorite stores would be closed. It’s only Easter, for God’s sake. Oops, sorry. It’s only Easter. I was shocked and dismayed that Target, Penney’s and Macys were closed on Easter in Seattle. Was I living in a dream world. Did everyone up here suddenly see the light (wait, that’s not a good thing) and go to church?
I was disheartened. Thankfully, pagan Wal-Mart was open. One of my favorite bookstores, Third Place Books was also open, and next to it, an agnostic Ross. Things were looking up.
I drove on for a bit, looking at some houses that the Janmeister wanted me to see. I then took the usual shortcut through Fremont on my way back to Ballard.
My faith was restored there. While the national chains decided to close for the day, all the shops of Fremont were hustling and bustling. The Sunday Farmer’s Market was in full swing and I didn’t see a single Easter loving shop there with a Closed sign on it.
Thank you Seattle! I’m sure all the Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, Jews, Agnostics and Atheists thank you too. You haven’t changed much after all. You still love it when there’s a buck to be made. People still know the importance of relishing a good cup of coffee at an open coffee shop. They still know the wonder of enjoying Sunday brunch at a microbrewery. And they still love to browse Deluxe Junk, which I think may be the Mecca of our society, as it is in Fremont, just down from the statue of Lenin.
I did my job. I bowed my head as I drove by and thanked the almighty buck that it was still central to some people’s lives.
My real shopping trip would have to wait another day. I am excited for its eventual arrival, as it will mark the day that I get my first piece of state I.D. Yes, my Costco card. And all the world will be right once again.
In the Emerald City, craving some good coffee as the Janmeister still has the coffee pot,
– Robb