California vs. Kansas
By PAT WICK
© Another Day in the Country
When we first came to Kansas from California, we considered this redneck country, not realizing that people here considered some other place — like Oklahoma or Arkansas — the haven for rednecks, Okies, hillbillies, or whatever home-boys are called.
I remember our neighbor boys, Brendan and Jayme (who were in high school then), telling us redneck jokes when we'd come to work on the house in the summer. "Do you know how you can tell if you're a redneck?" Brendan asked one day. "If your house has more wheels than your car!" The two of them would howl with laughter.
Jess and I would chuckle and look at each other, wondering, "Do these boys know that we think they are rednecks?" Probably not! Not that California doesn't have rednecks! It does! In fact, California has a little bit of everything.
Last week, I got an e-mail from my friend Betty, with California jokes attached. Knowing I was an ex-Californian, Betty said, "This should even the score a little bit." My sister and I read the list of criteria — as to how you would know you were in California — and laughed until we were completely out of breath. Later in the evening, I tried the list out on Tooltime Tim. He read it through and hardly cracked a smile. "Aren't these hillarious?" I wanted to know. He shrugged.
By the time I got the shrug, I'd already decided I was going to share part of this list with you, since I'm always comparing California with Kansas in this column. Unfortunately, you may not find them funny if you haven't lived in California. But I hope they are at least slightly amusing because they are "oh, so true!"
"Not to be outdone by all the redneck and hillbilly jokes," wrote Betty, "here's how you know you're in California."
You make more than $300,000 a year and still can't afford a house. You take a bus and are shocked at two people carrying on a conversation in English. You've been to a baby shower that has two mothers and a sperm donor. You have a strong opinion about where your coffee beans are grown and you can taste the difference between Sumatran and Ethiopian beans. You know which restaurant serves the freshest arugula. A really great parking space can totally move you to tears. Unlike back home (in Kansas) the guy at 8:30 a.m. at Starbucks wearing the baseball cap and sunglasses who looks like George Clooney really IS George Clooney. It's barely sprinkling rain and there's a report on every news station: "STORM WATCH 2004." Both you and your dog have therapists. The Terminator is your governor.
Yep, that's California for you! The land of "milk and money," and a delightful place to live — there's full-time sunshine from March to November, free air-conditioning via ocean breezes, no wind, and no tornadoes. Of course, there are earthquakes, traffic jams, and way too many people; but whose keeping track? I am!
"How long are you planning to stay in the country," my daughter wanted to know one day. "I thought you were just going for the summer or maybe for a year." Her voice quavered, "It's now four years, Mom! Weren't we going to discuss this as a family if any of us made big moves? Do you realize how far away you are from California?" She's right. I'm in the country and she's still a California girl. She can tell this move-in has put down strong roots in Kansas soil.
"Do you think you'd ever move back?" Tooltime Tim wants to know. "Not for keeps," I said, remembering that a piece of pie and coffee costs way more than $1.25 in the Napa Valley. "I can't afford it!" And then I grinned, "Besides, I'd miss spending another day in the country." (Now, do NOT show my daughter this column.)
