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Friday, November 26, 2004

It’s that Type of Place

Let me tell you about the central Michigan town I grew up in, and where I am spending the weekend:

It’s the type of place where senior citizens — long after their driving days are over — can tell you exactly where to find the day’s cheapest gas. Not just in their town, but in the surrounding two counties, as well.

It’s the type of place where cars are parked outside, and left unlocked.

It’s the type of place where Wal-Mart is the place to go. For gifts, for necessities, for something to do Friday night.

It’s the type of place where JCPenny’s is considered high fashion.

It’s the type of place where men who wear earrings (but only in the left ear!) are considered trendy. The small-town version of metrosexuals.

It’s the type of place where hunters head to the annual Homecoming parade immediately after leaving the woods — still wearing camouflage, still carrying a bow and arrows.

It’s the type of place where schoolteachers like my parents are considered elitist.

It’s the type of place where people drop g’s like a hot crockpot. Huntin’. Fishin’. Shoppin’. Drivin’.

It’s the type of place where I shake my Sprint cell phone, trying to get a signal.

It’s the type of place where church bazaars are a weekly event.

It’s the type of place where one man’s heart attack is the talk of the town. Often, one person gets the name wrong and soon a completely healthy man is receiving get-well cards.

It’s the type of place where people listen to police scanners and call their friends when something juicy comes across the line. A few years ago, a hunter had died in the woods behind my house. Someone heard the address on the scanner, and it wasn’t long before my mom got a phone call from my dad’s good friend, tentatively asking if everything was OK.

It’s the type of place where bowling alleys are more often found in bars than dance floors.

It’s the type of place where Metallica still rules.

It’s the type of place where students who go to college are still in the minority. Successful women become nurses and successful men work at Morbark, a local factory that makes wood chippers.

It’s the type of place where you’re married at 19 and pregnant at 18.

It’s the type of place where the only black kids are from the same family. And they’re all adopted.

It’s the type of place where boys play football and girls shop at Fashion Bug.

It’s the type of place where the town’s leading citizen is the owner of the hardware store.

It’s the type of place where you go to church for God as well as for social contact.

It’s the type of place where people rent videos at the grocery store. Right now, VHS is neck and neck with DVD.

It’s the type of place where Florida is an exotic location.

It’s the type of place where high school sporting events are first-page news.

It’s the type of place where I suffocate and am bored senseless. There is no place to go, no one to talk to, nothing to do, no good people watching, no car to drive since I flew here. All I have are books, a couple of DVDs I brought along, my computer slugging along on dialup, and my family members.

I’ll be hibernating until I return to Minneapolis on Sunday.

Posted by Aaron on November 26, 2004 9:16 PM