Not including the state of insanity.
We trekked to Yellowstone National Park, the birthplace of outdoorsy. A place, where we learned, a dude fell off his horse and lived for 57 days off thistles, keeping himself warm with fires made from his single unbroken eyeglass lens. Another dude, having fallen on the wrong side of some locals, was stripped of clothing, and told that if he could escape, he could live. The locals didn't think to look for him up under a beaver den, where his wet naked self hid until returning to safety. The heart of bison country. Of, literally, Purple Mountain's majesty.
We, as a family, are NOT outdoorsy. I have seen, on occasion, my husband RUN from mosquitoes. I have never slept in a tent that was not strung between two chairs in my grandma's family room. I think community showers breed grossness. I don't understand how a campsite--jammed motor home to motor home, with tents stuck in between--is relaxing, or beautiful, or at all a getaway. It feels much more like a pre-game parking lot tailgate for college football. On the other hand, an extended hike into the wilderness to sleep under the stars sounds lovely, but I don't think I'd be good at sharing a potty with a bear.
But the thing about Yellowstone is that EVERYONE can do it. We woke up in our fresh hotel room, ate a portable breakfast of oatmeal and yogurt, savored a decent cup of coffee and set out in our rental car each morning. We left before 6 each day, and saw all kinds of animals starting their day as well. We took our kids (who did not complain!) on trails up to 5 miles long. More than one a day, even. We brought with us lovely bagged lunches we bought at the hotel and ate at picnic tables near streams. Best of all, we came home in the evenings, showered in our own bathroom, put on clean clothes, returned to the lobby, enjoyed a cocktail or a local microbrew, and ate dinner with real plates, glasses and delicious food.
That's about how outdoorsy we are. We made it work for us, though.
One thing that NO ONE can pass off is being a tourist in the city. After a week in Chicago, it was very clear that this place once called home was now our vacation destination. Our sensible shoes, constant checking of intersection numbers and El routes, our near desperate need for deep dish pizza were clearly those of the rube.
We were almost country mice in the country, but most definitely not city mice in the city.
And then this guy gets on the El:
This guy and his buddies had trouble getting on the train. They were unable to determine what line they were on (red), where (south) and when (as soon as you get outta the doorway, buddy) it was going, and where, exactly they were when they got on it (Howard). They also thought they'd be able to walk into Wrigley in the third inning against the Cardinals. They also thought they'd make it back to Waukegan by 4:30 that afternoon after watching the game (no way).
Maybe they only know college football? Maybe they failed to notice it took them 2 hours to get to where they were, and it was only two hours until they were supposed to be back there?
Maybe a lot of things. I've certainly felt lost and befuddled in places I don't know. Really. I have sympathy for that.
BUT, they get on the train, loud and confused and all SOUTHERN about it. Advertising with their mouths, their poor English, their SEC-based wardrobe--posting their country mouse-ness on their bodies.
How MUCH money, exactly, does Alabama make on clothing? There must be entire city-sweatshops in China dedicated to sewing closets full of University of Alabama/Roll Tide gear. Never have I seen people so eager to broadcast an affinity for a university which they may/may not have attended. And, for all of you alumni out there, I hope this guy did not attend.
What is the deal? I get that there are not a ton of retail options down here, but seriously. It's ok to shop for clothing at someplace besides the grocery store. Houndstooth does NOT go with everything, despite what you have been told. Not every accessory needs to be Tide-related (ladies, I'm looking at those elephant earrings I see everywhere). Not everyone needs to know you're from here--especially if you're going to act rube-ishly. Do your state a favor.
At least wear an Ol' Miss shirt.
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