It's time for me to make some amends, with a few of my readers in the Midwest, who took offense at my description of Gary, Indiana, as an "industrial wasteland" the other night. To begin with, I invite you to review the Comments from Danogram and from Dave Yaros. You may also wish to visit Dave's Den, for an alternative view of Gary.
Funny thing is both commentators reacted as if I were part of the coastal elites, who look down on the Midwest (and the South), and frequently refer to them as the "flyover zone." But I'm not like that, and I've always resented the phrase myself.
Working primarily for employees based on San Francisco and Los Angeles the past four decades, I've taken many business trips. Although some have been to Chicago or Atlanta or Winston-Salem, the vast majority have been to New York and Washington.
East Coast-West Coast. West Coast-East Coast. That's the routine.
For one stretch I lived on both coasts simultaneously; my job out here and my home back there. I'd commute home every weekend.
But, I've never lost my love of my roots. The deciduous trees and berries of the Midwest make me feel at home. The pan fish and bass from freshwater lakes still taste best to me. The way that you can make a friend, and count on that person to remain a friend over time is a poignant memory in the more transient coastal cities, where friends tend to come and go, some clearly driven by whether you are "up" or "down" at the moment.
That said, I've managed to form lasting friendships with all kinds of wonderful people in the Bay Area, as well as in New York and Washington. Nothing is gained, however, without something else getting lost.
I remember one stormy night, years ago, flying to New York. The route was full of turbulence. At one point, the pilot came on and reported that through a break in the clouds, we could see the city of Flint, Michigan, below. I rushed to a window and stared until it had long passed out of sight.
My parents were down there. They lived and worked in Flint. Their backyard had the most delicious raspberries I'd ever tasted. But I was in a hard-charging point in my career, and I had not been able to visit for a long time.
The nostalgia hung over me all the rest of the way to New York. As I took a taxi into my hotel, I was struck by a terrible loneliness. I really wanted nothing more than to go home to Mom and Dad, but I had a job to do, and a family out west depending on me to do it well.
You can take the boy out of the Midwest, but you can't take the Midwest out of the boy. I'm sorry I offended my Midwestern cousins; despite certain surface differences like politics and style, we are much more similar underneath than different.
Family, friendship, loyalty, honesty, trust, belief in hard work and personal responsibility. Those are among our shared values.
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2 comments:
Apology accepted (at least for Danogram, I don't propose to speak for Dave Yaros, though after visiting his blog last night I suspect he won't entirely disagree).
The term I've heard more commonly expressed is “flyover country” by the way, which I think has a better ring to it. In much the same way that some folks really are proud to be an “Oaky from Muskogee”, I like being considered a flyover country dweller.
We can all agree, I think, that there are those Americans who are elitist in word and deed. Where words are clues to a soul, actions are the proof.
Many various groups who seem to congregate around communities along the two coastal environs become populated with Americans who seem to detach themselves from we “central dwellers”. From outside these circles it can be as though looking soberly into the window of a local bar; a predictable pattern emerges as the evening proceeds. Drinking in elixirs of reinforcement for self-serving dreams, many of the circle's population begin to stagger under the influence of self-importance. Soon they begin to pontificate, with well saturated confidence, that they alone know the truth of reality. That their special enlightenment is girded by approval from those who represent the craved wealth, beauty, power - all that is good and worthy in their lives, their thirst for more is unquenchable. Truth which would prevent further access to the elixir becomes intolerable.
Recreational intoxication is not an entirely bad thing, providing those intoxicated are not driving.
David,
I do not know that any apologies are required, from my perspective, but thanks for being so gracious.
I have reread my original comment, and I see no evidence of my accusing you of being an elitist.
What I did pounce on was the denigration of Gary, Indiana. Unfortunately, the "Steel City" seems to be the whipping boy of everyone, be they elite or dishonest denizens of the dark.
Those of us who know and love Gary by reason of having been been born, bred and educated there a more than a little sensitive about such views (which I cannot deny have validity, as far as they go). The problem is, they simply do not go far enough. For us folk, the bottom line is there is more to Gary than what initially meets the eye, if one can ever get over the shock of the intial view presented by the environment, admittedly not an easy task!
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