The Pacific Northwest vs. the rest of the country.
California vs. the rest of the country.
Two very distinct areas of the west coast, both possessing equally rebellious tendencies as they forge “new frontiers.” Yet they are so incredibly dissimilar in their opinions that they house extreme differences in their collective group consciousness.
So, I’ve decided it’s high time they were pitted against each other. And since I’ve lived in both locales, who better to do it than me? After all, their site-specific idiosyncrasies can, if nothing else, offer a small slice of comic relief from today’s modernized, high-tech Armageddon world.
Here, then, is my version of Mad magazine’s, “You Know You’re In . . . .”
1. You know you’re in the Pacific Northwest when you’re driving on a one-lane, two-way street in the city and the person turning left against traffic in front of you will NOT pull up into the center of the intersection so the cars behind can drive around and continue, but instead just sits there timidly behind the white line until the light turns yellow, making all the other cars wait as well.
You know you’re in Southern California when the driver across the intersection from you is making a left-hand turn against traffic and instead of waiting, hits the gas pedal and turns left illegally right in front of you as fast as he can when the light turns green, just to see if he can make it . . . ’cause he’s in a big, big hurry.
2. You know you’re in the Pacific Northwest when drivers let you in ahead of them in line, or when they slow down when you’re jaywalking and instead of hurling insults at you, they actually STOP, SMILE, and then WAVE as you walk by!
You know you’re in Southern California when the driver behind you flips you off and screams “B#%±H!” loudly at you for stopping at the red light just before the entrance to a freeway on-ramp, which has a sign clearly posted in big letters stating, “NO RIGHT TURN ON RED.”
3. You know you’re in the Pacific Northwest when people don’t really know the names of their city’s streets, and when driving they’ll often just suddenly stop in the middle of the road to ask for directions from other people in the Pacific Northwest who also don’t know the names of the streets or how to get there.
You know you’re in Southern California when the *%&*&$% five cars behind you starts to race and somehow weasels and worms his way up, virtually making his own lanes, just to get in front of all the other cars so he can arrive at the red light FIRST.
4. You know you’re in the Pacific Northwest when you can’t help but notice and be frightened by the fact that most of the women weigh 220-280 pounds (due to extreme overeating in the winter months) or are ruggedly husky, big-boned dames usually of healthy Norwegian or German descent or from good ol’ Midwestern farm stock.
You know you’re in Southern California when you can’t help but notice and be frightened by the fact that 98 percent of the women are plastically enhanced starlets who weigh all of 85-100 pounds and who aspire to wearing sizes negative 3 through 0.
5. You know you’re in the Pacific Northwest when all the women look at you funny if you’re wearing any makeup.
You know you’re in Southern California when all the women look at you funny if you’re not wearing any makeup.
6. You know you’re in the Pacific Northwest when the word “chic” is not an adjective usually appropriated to fashion, but instead is disdainfully frowned upon and virtually ignored or is only recognized as the first part of the word “chiclets.”
You know you’re in Southern California when the word on the street is “chic,” as in, “What fabulous, chic designer gown are you wearing to the Oscars (or the Emmys or [fill in your favorite awards show here] this year?”
7. You know you’re in the Pacific Northwest when you notice that most of the women let their hair go grey and have it chopped off into a short, blunt cut that exudes absolutely no femininity or style, more closely resembling an almost-but-not-quite butch cut, meeting up with a twenty-first century “hip librarian” look. And, you can’t help but also notice their long, flowing, flower-print skirts worn with Velcroed Birkenstocks of varying, dare I say, “designs.”
You know you’re in Southern California when you realize that most of the women actually DO look like models out of Vogue, Harper’s Bazaar, or Elle or “Entertainment Tonight,” “Extra,” or [fill in your favorite media choice here]; and that you really DO see famous celebrities who look “simply fabulous, dahling!” just about everywhere because, after all, this really is the land of HOLLYWEIRD.
8. You know you’re in the Pacific Northwest when the helicopters you hear at night making you feel like you’re back in Vietnam are really only taking the sick or injured up to the hospital on the hill.
You know you’re in Southern California when the helicopters you hear at night making you feel like you’re back in Vietnam are really only chasing the criminals running around in YOUR neighborhood!
And now, I really feel my work is done. So, I’m going to put on my long, flowing flower-print skirt, slide my feet into some comfy Birkenstocks, and go get lost somewhere. I think I’ll most probably chew me some chiclets and see if I can identify any chic people walking by.
Copyright 2010 by C.S. Badin
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Catherine Badin is a writer/photographer and songwriter. Her feature stories have appeared in The Carmel Pine Cone and Cedar Street Times. She also writes poetry, short stories, and essays. Her poetry has been published successively in Saturday Afternoon, a yearly anthology of L.A. poets. You can contact her at catherinebadin@yahoo.com.
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