Wednesday, July 01, 2009

 

The Mysterious Places


There are some places I feel I know, or at least feel comfortable in. New York, Waco, LA, Chicago, even Vermont-- these are places that seem knowable to me, even if I don't know them in whole. There are other places, though, which seem deeply mysterious to me, and I find them intriguing and compelling.

Even after four years of college there, Virginia remained an enigma. I did not understand even the manners there, what people meant when they were describing it, or the meaning of even some simple traditions. It seemed like a place buried deep in code, of which I knew only a few lines. It wasn't that people were rude or rejected me-- far from it-- it was that I felt nearly as much a tourist after four years as I did when I arrived.

Boston is that way, too, and Memphis. I will stop in Memphis, lost, and ask for directions. I am met with kindness and wit, yet I get a sense that there is deep mystery there, layers I do not understand, and that makes me want to get in deeper. I love songs about Memphis, but I can't say I understand them, even this:

Did I forget to mention, to mention Memphis
Home of Elvis and the ancient greeks?
Do I smell? I smell home cooking
It's only the river, it's only the river.

Comments:
Boston is full of annoying Red Sox and Patriots fans, and bad drivers. That's what you need to know about that city.
 
I love Boston (dislike Red Sox fans). I have been there 2 times and felt so comfortable there.

Durham, where we live now, is a mysterious place. The people are friendly but it is hard to make friends.
 
I grew up on North Carolina, western North Carolina. I think in the South there's always a mistrust of those who aren't from there. Maybe this dates back to Reconstruction or something (that's my off-the-cuff theory, anyway.)

And unlike Boston--which was the brashest, most direct, in-your-face place I had ever been at age 24--Southerners speak around things. They aren't direct. If I need to get off the phone, I'll say, "Oh, let me let you go" instead of "I have to go now." I have had to work very hard--and still often don't succeed--at asking for things directly, unless it's something really bland like "Would you please pass the mashed potatoes?"

As for Virginia, a good friend who grew up in Charlottesville once lovingly told me that I had come from "the vale of humility between two mountains of conceit" (i.e. Virginia and South Carolina). Maybe that begins to explain Virginia . . . I would extend it to tidewater Georgia, too. Savannah was always a mystery to me.
 
I lived about 2 hours north of Memphis for the first 24 years of my life...I've been there countless times...I have relatives from there...and I don't really understand the city either...I always felt at home and comfortable in Nashville when visiting, but there's just something about Memphis...
 
Fargo. I don't get Fargo.
 
We Texans (who are not exactly "Southerners") don't really cultivate too much mystery. The best of Texas is in wide open spaces between earth or water and blue sky. The warmth of a handshake, a hug. The true south nurses hot seething dark places, thanks to forbidden love, old vendetta and the sorry spectre of classism/racism. Memphis, Savannah they are intriguing and tragic places, but for real mystery, religion and voodoo and vice, give me New Orleans everytime.
 
I feel comfortable in Texas. Everywhere except for College Station (too much evil, a good person shouldn't be comfortable there. It is the 7th circle of hell) and Austin (too many hippies, way too many).

I also feel comfortable in Las Vegas. It is the adult disneyland, the happiest place on earth.

New York, Chicago, Boston, Tulsa...a jedi craves not these things.
 
That's why I'm going to Katmandu.....
 
In my mind I'm going to Carolina...
 
Swissgirl has the description of Boston down pat. I was trying to think of how to describe it, and brash/direct is perfect. People there are so straightforward; there is very little pleasantry or formality. It was a little hard to get used to.
 
I grew up in Memphis and, yes, there is a code language so to speak, such as no one was ever pregnant (heaven forbid), she was "expecting." If someone asks what kind of Coke you would like, it refers to any softdrink. Likewise, Kodak meant camera and Kleenex meant any kind of tissue.

Also, there is a mystery to the city as noted, but there is something undeniably magical about sitting on the banks of the Mississippi River and hearing the Memphis Symphony Orchestra play "Old Man River" as the sun sets.
 
Swissgirl - I get the NC mountains (don't like them necessarily). In Cashiers the locals work on mountain time. Life in the mountains is just a little too slow for me.

I might 'get' Memphis if I ever visited. There is water in that town and I need water around me. That mighty Mississippi!
 
There are some cities where I've always felt like there was a "ruling class" that outsiders have a hard time cracking. Merit and success are not as important as connections and history.

I worked for a Boston-based law firm (in the DC office) and definitely felt that I would not be "part of the club." Richmond is like that too. Never got that feeling about NYC or Chicago or DC or Atlanta or Charlotte or Dallas (or Waco).
 
One of the coolest things I've noticed about Alaska is that no matter where you're from, you're accepted up here, since almost everyone is from somewhere else.
 
Yes, IPLG, Savannah was exactly as you describe. There was a social club called the Oglethorpe Club which required that you be something like 5th-generation Savannahian to get in. Charleston had something similar . .

Christine, I haven't spent much time in Durham other than visiting Duke (which isn't the real Durham, I bet) so I don't know what that's like. Probably the race issue comes into play . . .
 
Angel Fire, New Mexico for me.
 
Swissgirl has both Boston and the Tar Heel State just right. I grew up in Raleigh, and recognize everything she said about NC.

I've sung in Memphis three times. Don't like the city, though, and could not care less about Elvis. I think the best thing there is the National Civil Rights Museum.
 
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