Here's yet more proof that the Boston Globe is in eclipse, Back at Ya by Katherine Ozment, in the December 9, 2007 edition.
Of all the things to write about California, and specifically Berkeley, the fact that Californians and Berkleyites are polite drivers would be the last subject that would come up in my mind. The Nazi meter maids of Berkeley would be one subject that comes to mind. Ozment, though, indulges in that popular past-time of stuck-up Easterners who are so desiccated emotionally they can't appreciate paradise, let alone live in it: The "Aren't I better than the goofy Californians" story. However, I must admit she gives it a new twist.
I went to school, briefly, in Monterey, California in 1985, then lived in the Bay Area from 1989-1992 (cherchez la femme), when I -- after breaking up with la femme -- moved back to Cambridge. I insisted I had hated California the entire three years I was there.
I lasted six months -- the harsh winter and harsher attitudes of Bay Staters (to say nothing of rotaries) drove me back West, where I stayed through to 2000, when I moved to New Hampshire for 18 months. Then, back to Northern California and then, sadly, back East to take care of my ailing father.
Katherine Ozment did not live in California long enough to find out something about herself, or what is more likely, lacks a capacity for self-awareness. I, like many an Easterner, was quite an obnoxious driver when I went West. (I was quite an obnoxious person.) Eventually, I learned that the problem was in myself, and began to relax. I began to learn something invaluable from the lack of pretensions of the Northern Californians.
The ability to process feedback is a requisite for maturity, and is something lacking in Ozment. Somehow, I do not believe the innocent scenario she sketches out, about being a wholly innocent party. While it is true that northern Californians find a Boston-area accent to be quite hilarious, and when I was at Berkeley, the pretensions of Bostonians were lampooned (being from New Hampshire but schooled in the Hub, it hurt), no Californian, native or transplanted, has ever been as rude or nasty as an Easterner.
Taking care of my late father necessitated living in New York State ('round Tarrytown) and then in Fairfield County, Connecticut, and while the Hub can never claim to be as obnoxious as those two hitching posts of Hell (Yankee country)...still: It's not a positive thing to be a hot-blooded, hardheaded obnoxious ass.
I am now relocating to Washington, D.C. for law school and appreciate the fact that the locals are so friendly and the city is more thoroughly integrated than Boston, New York City or San Francisco, the places I spent most of my adult life. Having learned in California, like Cassius, that the problem is in myself, I still need occasional reality checks to see that I remain pleasant and not revert to my old obnoxious New England self.
Travel is a way to broaden horizons, Ms. Ozment, not to reinforce one's own prejudices.
I really have nothing much to do with Boston anymore, except to occasionally visit friends. One thing I noticed while being in New York: like an Ivy League education for a mediocre person, the East allows someone relatively small to experience an aggrandizement from association with a city or region they believe superior. (In fact, New York City is a place 10-15 years behind the Left Coast.) One doesn't see that ego-inflation in
California.
Of all the things to write about California, and specifically Berkeley, the fact that Californians and Berkleyites are polite drivers would be the last subject that would come up in my mind. The Nazi meter maids of Berkeley would be one subject that comes to mind. Ozment, though, indulges in that popular past-time of stuck-up Easterners who are so desiccated emotionally they can't appreciate paradise, let alone live in it: The "Aren't I better than the goofy Californians" story. However, I must admit she gives it a new twist.
I went to school, briefly, in Monterey, California in 1985, then lived in the Bay Area from 1989-1992 (cherchez la femme), when I -- after breaking up with la femme -- moved back to Cambridge. I insisted I had hated California the entire three years I was there.
I lasted six months -- the harsh winter and harsher attitudes of Bay Staters (to say nothing of rotaries) drove me back West, where I stayed through to 2000, when I moved to New Hampshire for 18 months. Then, back to Northern California and then, sadly, back East to take care of my ailing father.
Katherine Ozment did not live in California long enough to find out something about herself, or what is more likely, lacks a capacity for self-awareness. I, like many an Easterner, was quite an obnoxious driver when I went West. (I was quite an obnoxious person.) Eventually, I learned that the problem was in myself, and began to relax. I began to learn something invaluable from the lack of pretensions of the Northern Californians.
The ability to process feedback is a requisite for maturity, and is something lacking in Ozment. Somehow, I do not believe the innocent scenario she sketches out, about being a wholly innocent party. While it is true that northern Californians find a Boston-area accent to be quite hilarious, and when I was at Berkeley, the pretensions of Bostonians were lampooned (being from New Hampshire but schooled in the Hub, it hurt), no Californian, native or transplanted, has ever been as rude or nasty as an Easterner.
Taking care of my late father necessitated living in New York State ('round Tarrytown) and then in Fairfield County, Connecticut, and while the Hub can never claim to be as obnoxious as those two hitching posts of Hell (Yankee country)...still: It's not a positive thing to be a hot-blooded, hardheaded obnoxious ass.
I am now relocating to Washington, D.C. for law school and appreciate the fact that the locals are so friendly and the city is more thoroughly integrated than Boston, New York City or San Francisco, the places I spent most of my adult life. Having learned in California, like Cassius, that the problem is in myself, I still need occasional reality checks to see that I remain pleasant and not revert to my old obnoxious New England self.
Travel is a way to broaden horizons, Ms. Ozment, not to reinforce one's own prejudices.
I really have nothing much to do with Boston anymore, except to occasionally visit friends. One thing I noticed while being in New York: like an Ivy League education for a mediocre person, the East allows someone relatively small to experience an aggrandizement from association with a city or region they believe superior. (In fact, New York City is a place 10-15 years behind the Left Coast.) One doesn't see that ego-inflation in
California.
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