Dual allegiance proving hard to shake
I’ve discovered something about the effects of moving away. As hard and as long as I struggle to make a complete break from that other place I lived, I’m beginning to think it may never happen. And that’s OK.
“Don’t I look like a geographic anomaly?” I proclaimed as some family and friends gathered at Swaylo’s Tiki Restaurant and Bar, a Hawaiian-themed restaurant in Longmont. Try the Spam disguised as sushi.
A few chuckles followed. Well, maybe less than two. A couple of people shook their heads as if to indicate that I was a man without an identity. Maybe they were onto something, there. You can’t deny that we are all pilgrims passing through this mortal coil, right?
“You’ve been in Colorado three years now,” voiced a friend peeking out from a menu concealing their face. “From what you’ve told me, you have made several good friends here. You seem to keep busy. You have a pullout cot back in the kitchen at Panera. So why do you advertise that you’re still mixed up as to your place in society?”
The sartorial billboard that drew stares and murmuring featured a roomy blue sweatshirt emblazoned with “BOULDER” across the chest. It’s my favorite. A light-weight jacket spelled out “WASHINGTON NATIONALS,” the major-league baseball team. My brown and yellow sweatpants screamed MARYLAND STATE POLICE. An image of the state flag rode with it. If that wasn’t enough to confuse things, I donned a Broncos cap that bore the team’s colors and logo. (I’m thinking about selling it to Russell Wilson as he looks for a new job. Does he qualify for unemployment compensation?)
Had anyone been interested enough to inspect the contents of my wallet, they would have seen a valid Colorado driver’s license overlaying a still-valid Maryland permit. Same thing with library cards. From day one here, I got a card at the Longmont Public Library. Who knew they now offer a writers’ program for teens called “Pens, Prompts and Pizza?” Beneath it sits a library card from Howard County, Md. If I’m honest, Longmont beats Howard by a mile when it comes to showcasing creative new services. Fair is fair.
I can’t begin to explain the reasons for my dual allegiance. There are people who spend their lives ricocheting from one state or one country to another without giving it a second thought. They may be army brats. Or maybe a parent just landed their dream job in Silicon Valley or the headquarters of Hallmark Cards in Kansas City. Obviously, though, the vast majority of this restless crew has made a career out of passing bad checks. Their “work” dates to a time when people actually wrote checks. Way before my time.
The folks who make up this FOMO — fear of missing out — subculture are hard-wired for change. They’re the kind who are so ready to move on that they carry a bunch of change of address cards in the glove box of their cars. And they’ve already done their homework and memorized the latest U.S. News and World Report rankings of the best high schools in America.
As we awaited our appetizers of fried calamari, pork gyoza and Spam musubi, I fielded a few questions from others at the table intent on killing time until the food arrived.
Questioner 1: “I always figured you would never leave Washington. You were glued to that place more than Niki Haley is glued to follow-up runs in ’28, ’32 and into infinity — or when Trump returns. What made you change your mind?”
Me: “I wanted to spend time with our son and his family here. I mean, they’re f-a-m-i-l-y. You can’t understate their importance. How long am I going to be around? Or you? How long are you going to be around? More importantly, I wanted to watch, from a safe distance, the six million people in Colorado do what they do best — hike, climb, bike and fish — then drive around in their Subarus with those coffin-shaped boxes attached to the roof.”
Questioner 2: “So, how long did it take for you to adjust to living at this altitude? I Googled how high DC is. It’s like 400 feet above sea level. No wonder Trump promised to ‘drain the swamp.’”
Me: “Actually, my original plan was to go even lower. We were going to move to San Diego, to an oceanside condo. But what does Proverbs say?
‘In their hearts humans plan their course, but the Lord establishes their steps.’”
Questioner 3: “Judging from your mish-mash attire, you’re still unsettled about where you belong.”
Me: “I need help.” Questioner 1 again: “If you look at life here through an objective lens, what do you miss and what don’t you miss?”
Me: “I miss summer crab feasts. I miss free entry to the Smithsonian. I miss meeting Biden before his role in ‘Scooby-doo on Zombie Island’.”
(Pause to sample the tasty Spam disguised as sushi.) “What I don’t miss? That’s easy. I don’t miss the hollow feeling of official Washington, you know, the part not to be confused with the District of Columbia, which is where normal people live. Official Washington is the cloaked, behindthe-secret-gate world. The CIA and the Pentagon. On the other hand, when you can’t hold it in and need to make an emergency pit stop, be prepared to bring along a copy of your criminal background check to use the facilities at the Department of Agriculture. They’re afraid you’re going to smuggle the latest data about the danger of eating red meat and poultry.”
After dinner, I’m swinging by the library for a copy of “A Man Without a Country.”