Leaving Paradise

Paradise Header

A life-long friend called me the other day and spoke about his family’s decision to leave the state of Washington, where they’d called home for over 2 decades.  It seems they’d had enough.  They’ve had enough of policies that make it harder for honest people to live and provide for their families, enough of political vitriol that separates neighbors and families while creating boogey-men out of anyone with a different opinion, and for them enough with new policies forcing them to make decisions about their children’s health.  I totally understand.  I’ve been in similar situations myself, as have countless people.  Two thousand six was the moment for me.  I’d had enough of California and moved to Dallas-Ft Worth Texas, where I’ve been ever since.  So, I know about moving to a state far away first hand.

            Now, I’m pretty sure that my friend and his wife aren’t card-carrying members of the Religious Right.  They likely don’t have MAGA hats, and their TVs aren’t regularly tuned to Fox News.  But they’ve had it.  So, they’re loading up the Jalopy (a Tesla, actually) and heading off to someplace more freedom-y. 

            There’s a lot of places they could go, but likely to the somewhere through the Sun Belt or the South.  In many of those states, there is less government and a whole lot more room.  Heck, I’ve read that Texas could fit the entire world’s population inside it before it achieved a density greater than New York city.  I read it on the Internet, so it’s probably myth.

But, if you are an expat thinking of a move to Texas most Texans will tell you the same thing, “Please don’t move here.  We’re full.”  I know this is true.  I’ve said it myself.  But OK, I’ll tell you a secret if you promise to keep it just between us…we aren’t really full.  We’re just scared, and reasonably so.  I had an experience last week that illustrates my point well, I think.

            I was driving home from work, when nearing home, I came to a stop light behind a car with California plates.  It was what we used to call in California a rice-rocket, maybe a Honda Civic or something similar.  The exhaust had been modified and cold-air intake probably installed.  It had been lowered, with custom wheels.  It looked like a RC car on a skateboard, trying its best to make vroom-vroom noises.  From the perch in my Ram I looked at it the way a rottweiler glances at a yippy chihuahua. 

            On the back were two bumper stickers.  One was the driver identifying himself as someone who enjoyed a particular sex-act.  It was only three words, and one of them is not a word I would want a child passing by to see.  It was lewd, and I am not a person who blanches at R-rated content.  At the time most of my thinking was that it was more unintentionally self-demeaning for the driver than anything else.

            The other sticker which ran along the entire bottom bumper, was one advertising his Instagram channel.  Apparently, if you liked the first bumper sticker then you should check out the pictures he posts regularly.  I had a passing thought that people who are annoyed at his driving will easily find him later, but I’m not going to waste my time with that one.

            It wasn’t the ridiculously customized import, the California plate, the inappropriate bumper sticker, or the other sticker that made me sure he labels himself an influencer, that made me bookmark the scene in my head.  It was the whole package, and what it represents.  It’s what that represents to me as an adopted Texan, and likely what it would mean to an Arizonan, Idahoan, Floridian (or insert any fly-over state here) that got my attention, and made me want to buy him a plane ticket back to California. 

            So, to help explain why you might hear a “Sorry, we’re full,” or struggle to deal with what it means to move out of one of the coastal states to one of those in the vast middle of the country, I’ve put together this small primer.  I’m not aiming this at my friend in any way, or even anyone who I know at all.  Also, I’m going to completely ignore any question of if and where you should move.  I’m assuming that the decision has already been made, the security deposit has already been paid, and your bags are packed.  So, here goes.  This is what you should do, according to me, in detail and in order.

1 – Get rid of your California, Oregon, Washington, New York, etc. license plates. 

2 – Don’t lie…but also don’t lead an introduction with “I’m not from here.  I just moved here from_____.” 

3 – Try to fit in as much and as soon as possible

4 – Make a few friends locally.

5 – Get out of your comfort zone at least once a week.

6 – Get lost once a month.

7 – Get to know at least one person who has very different opinions that you.

8 – Realize that you may be wrong about the world.

9. – Make a list of things you want to do and see.

10 – Become a tour guide