Never Trust A Rotarian

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"So," Mark said, glancing at his demon-twin, "where are you guys from in THE STATES?"

Ah. Social pleasantries. There just may be hope yet! I look at your mom to see if she's picked up on the subtle change in the tone of the conversation. It was hard to tell. I noticed that during the last few minutes she'd started to twitch slightly.

"We're from the Seattle area. Well, actually a small town about 40 miles southeast of Seattle next to the Cascade foothills."

I find that adding 'small town' usually will put people at ease. I have no idea why. Maniacs and psychopaths are abundant in small towns. Why, visit any Rotary Club meeting and you're sure to see at least three serial killers at any given time. Don't even get me started on local Chambers of Commerce. Let's just say that most of the Boards of Director's for Chambers are full-blown, unrepentant, closet Satan worshipers. Anyway, back to the small town thingee. I look to the group to see if this bit of info has had a calming effect.

More simple nodding, but this time I detect a slightly positive vibe.

Carl spoke for the first time. His voice was exactly like his brothers, but a tad higher. "I've been through Seattle a few times."

Pause. Silence. I waited for the follow up. The 'and it's a really nice place', or 'incredible scenery', or 'not as bad as I expected'. But no . . . nothing followed. Just a blank stare.

"Oh," I remarked, "well . . . good!" I mean really, what else could I say?

"Yeah," he said, "too many people for my taste."

Martha, his mother, cleared her throat and rolled her eyes. Admiration for this beautiful lady had now blossomed into full blown love.

I study Carl. How dare he not acknowledge the awesomeness that is the Pacific Northwest? And I'm not fond of your nose there chuckles, but I'm not going to point it out. Well, at least not yet. The day is young. I sized up the brothers as a unit. Even though they could outrun me, I was pretty sure that in a street fight I could handle myself. Or at least bean them with my cane into some form of submission. Mom could have kicked their asses straight up, but I was hoping it wouldn't have to come to that.

*** the journey continues ***

Oh, you're from THE STATES????

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"So, where you folks from again?"

Now here is a dilema. What do I say? Do I tell him we live in Enumclaw, and spend the next 10 minutes discussing what an odd name that is and where it came from and all the other peculiar Native American names from our neck of the woods? Or, do we offer a generality, like "Oh, the Seattle area, little town 40 miles to the south"?

That's my preference. It gives enough information to satisfy their curiosity, but not enough to invite further inquiry. Due to my impending loss of consciousness, I opt for the latter.

"Oh," he says as if he's just confirmed a long-held suspicion, "you're from THE STATES!"

Then he gives us a look that I have no idea what it means, but I would come to see often over the next few days. I think that somehow in his mind, this explained everything.

I cursed silently under my breath. I'd dealt with Canadians before. I'd sat at various conferences with them. I had studied them online for months. Oh, I've done my homework. I'd watched my share of 'Anne of Green Gables' and 'The Red Green Show' and tons of stuff with David Suzuki and Alanis Morisette who, as we all know, is actually God in disguise. There is one common thread that runs like a polluted river amongst our comrades to the north, be they white collar or blue collar, man or woman or some combination thereof, conservative or rabidly liberal.

That thread is this: More than likely it is the United State's fault. Story over.

And really, in the late summer of 2008 who in their right mind could disagree? All that Bushy-ness, you know?

It didn't matter for I had no energy for debate. I absolutely could not rally any enthusiasm for apologies. I prayed that 'shirtless old dude' as I now tagged him in my head was apolitical. Or, barring that, at least polite as he pointed out our list of deficiencies and crimes.


*** the journey continues tomorrow ***