The Differences We See: Tale of Two States

My husband and I were born and raised in California. Just three and a half years ago we moved to Iowa. For funzies, I'd like to share some of the differences between the two states.

NUMBER ONE. I hear it is because there are no professional teams in the area, but college pride is off the charts around here. The two colleges can be seen everywhere. Vanity plates and frames, sweatshirts, hats, and mugs. When I was teaching preschool, my little students wore one or the other and were being well-trained in their particular fandom.  Outside a hotel we stayed at, the two flags hung off opposite ends of the entrance. We have a neighbor with a special split flag and the words, "A House Divided." When we bought our own home, it took a load of paint to get that Hawkeye off our office wall. Iowans care about their alma maters, baby!

NUMBER TWO.  Iowan drivers vs. Californian drivers. I have heard the jokes about Californian drivers, and I think many are well-earned. Californians speed and the California stop is a real thing. But I will take California drivers every time over Iowan drivers.  Forgive the pun, but it's time to buckle up, because here comes my rant!  

Iowans tailgate. Like, they get right up on you and just stay there.  There is room to pass, but they are content to drive mere feet from the car in front of them.  And it isn't just private drivers.  Semis do it! It is horrifying to have one of those killers get so close that the grill fills your rearview mirrors.  I much prefer someone weaving through traffic at 90 mph over a road full of tailgaters at 55.

Speaking of truckers, they drive like they are cars.  Aside from tailgating, they change lanes on a whim and drive in the left lane for miles on end.  In California, most truckers were pretty awesome.  They stuck to the slow lanes unless something was up. Then they would coordinate to help protect drivers from hazards. In Iowa truckers vie for position, repeatedly passing one another while paying no attention to other motorists.  Drives me nuts!

NUMBER THREE. Coat racks are everywhere in Iowa. I think a combination of climate and a more trusting culture contribute to this phenomenon. Churches, schools, and businesses have huge coat racks in them.  Restaurants have these cool flippy ones at the end of each booth. Some buildings architecturally have designated space for them. Others have huge racks on wheels that come out every winter.  It is cool...and weird to me. In California, we lived both in the central valley where snow was rare and in the mountains with snow and below freezing temps for at least three months out of the year. But we were expected to hang on to our own coats wherever we went.

NUMBER FOUR. Accents. So, there isn't a massive difference between the way people speak between these two states. But the transplants to Iowa tend to be from directly north or south, so there are more 'y'alls' and 'donchaknows' than we encountered in California, which has a broader reach in their diversity.  Iowans are also more likely to say eye-talian instead of Italian and that makes me giggle.

While the pronunciations of words are similar, there are some distinctions to the words chosen. Californians drink soda while Iowans drink pop. Californians get splinters, but Iowans get slivers. Californians eat breakfast, lunch, then dinner. Iowans tend toward breakfast, lunch, and supper. (I know some places eat breakfast, dinner, and supper.) I used to keep track of the different terminology because I find it fascinating. Now I think I am acclimating because I notice it less.

NUMBER FIVE. The neighborly neighbors. When we were house hunting in Iowa, we still had one of our sweet Beagle babies and a fully fenced yard was a must--and nearly impossible to find.  Iowans don't do fences as a regular thing. Our realtor was vexed by our own vexation over the absence of fences.  We explained that a new build in California wouldn't have any landscaping, but that six-foot privacy fences were standard. I don't think she believed us.

We did manage to find a fully fenced yard, but it's a three-foot chain linked affair. The wind in Iowa is fierce and year-round, so I can see the unpractical side of fences here. But there is another aspect. Iowans are neighborly! Like, SUPER neighborly. We live in a wonderful old neighborhood where the residents have already raised their children together.  At the last block party, the former owners of our home attended because they are still rooted here. 

It's so weird to this Californian who thought she was neighborly because she smiled, said hello, AND even knew a few of the neighbors' names! This is a whole new level of neighborly, and I cognitively appreciate it. I have come to love the people on either side of us and the family behind us.  I love having kids my kids love playing with.  There is nothing so cool as seeing them climb that chain-link to play together. But I also feel like I don't have a back yard to call my own. It's just so public!

NUMBER SIX. Cuisine, or lack thereof. You can find a Mexican restaurant on every other corner. Korean places don't stay in business long, which is lamentable to this invisible Korean girl. On the Fast-Food side of things, there is no Jack in the Box or In'n'Out Burger. No Habit Burger. And Carl's Jr is called Hardy's. 

There is a BeBops, which serves retro diner food. It is fast a cheap and has decent fish sandwiches. There is also a locally loved place called Culvers. I don't get it. Every time we have tried it, they get our order wrong, and the food is soggy and cold. I don't get Culvers.  There is also Ornery Chicken, a dine-out-only place that is delicious and pricey.

But the biggest disparity is the pizza. Oh, my word, the pizza. Iowan mouths don't tend toward spices. The overwhelmingly favorite is from Casey's, the gas station. Oh, my non-Iowan readers, I kid you not. Gas station pizza is everyone's favorite. I'm just gonna stop there.

Thanks for reading. These comparisons are fun. We love living in Iowa, though I might have chosen a littler Norther, had I known about the fake snow and too-common tornadoes. But we are so thankful to be right where we are, to adopt our girls, to love our neighbors and friends, and be thankful that we only have to shovel snow once a year.

Driving

My adult daughter was in the car with me and mentioned how I point at semi-trucks whenever we get close to one. (I point at them to tell them to stay put.) She said they aren't targeting me; I don't need to drive like everyone is aiming at me. By the way, getting life advice from our young adult children is the best!

The idea shocked me. I don't often feel like all the cars are gunning for mine.  Actually, it's quite the opposite. I feel invisible. I am scared I will get into an accident because someone didn't see me and just tried to be in my space.  

Is this a deeper thing?  Are there people who don't worry about getting into accidents?  It's actually been something that threatens phobia-level fear at different times in my life.  There are seasons when I am a comfortable, confident driver.  Seasons when I have less access to a car, I become timid. The sense that the other drivers won't see me grows, and driving is an exhausting activity.

Even when I am feeling confident, I still point at trucks. I figure they need a little extra help.

Respect

Exclusivity is a no-no.  It is intolerant, narrow minded and offensive.  We don’t like it when people speak too strongly about right and wrong, in and out.  It hurts feelings, is judgmental and shows an ugly pride.

The problem is that this notion is paradoxical.  “We can be sure of nothing!” begs the question, “Are you sure?”  The same is true with “There are no absolutes!” Yes, of course… “Absolutely!”  See the problem?  Exclusivity is a no-no.  So, you are excluding those who exclude?  It isn’t right to say that something is wrong?  These arguments just don’t hold water.

Of course, the notion behind most of these statements is that it is unkind to dismiss the beliefs of others or to outright condemn people for their philosophies and behavior.  The preschool lessons to get along are well ingrained in our society, and haven’t really developed beyond a preschool mentality to just be nice.  And who doesn’t think being nice is wrong all by itself? 

What is ‘nice,’ though?  Is it always agreeing all the time?  That really would keep us all as preschoolers, never allowing ourselves to discuss anything beyond the most elementary (heh heh) topics.  Most of us weren’t made for that.  Life has complexities and we need to work through them.  For us to live a life with any meaning, we have to make choices.  Any choice for something is also a choice against at least one other something.  If we bind ourselves to this idea that choosing against things, excluding, is offensive, we imprison ourselves in a false world of the ever-yes.  It doesn’t exist and so it paralyzes us.

So, we make choices.  We must.  And the choices necessarily exclude.  We disagree.  If we are going to graduate from preschool, we have to learn how to do this without being ugly.  But we also have to grow up enough to allow OTHERS to choose and exclude and NOT be offended by it!  The reason we teach three and four year olds to be kind in the form of inclusiveness is because they are spending time with other three and four year olds who are only just developing their fragile egos and necessarily require some tender handling. 

When I taught, I worked hard to not tell the kids their guesses were outright wrong, because in spite of whatever topic currently being explored, the real lesson was for the child to try, experiment and be bold.  Getting the answer right was in fact irrelevant to my true goal, so I said, ‘You answered so quickly.’ ‘Keep trying.’ Guess again.’ ‘Look here for a clue.’ ‘Thank you for sharing.’ ‘So close!’ ‘I see why you can think that.’ ‘Have you thought about this?’ ‘I see you working so hard.’ ‘Don’t give up!’  Instead of using the word no, I would say yes, after…  Or yes, as soon as…  Or yes, once we…

This encouragement was always on my lips as my kids struggled to learn and grow and master.  I modeled it and expected the kids in my care to use similar sentiments as they offered help to their peers.  I wanted my kids to see themselves as able, to see the world as full of possibilities.  The phrases that became part of my being conveyed sky’s-the-limit concepts that would best equip my kids to face challenges with confidence.

I don’t regret this.  I believe it is right and good.  Eventually, however, the word no must be used.  Limits are set.  Choices are made.  We need to teach kids—and be adults who model—to accept this without it crushing them.  We have failed, in my opinion to handle this part of child rearing, and we now have a society of people who seem to LOOK to be hurt.

One of the contributors to this easily offended mentality is the importance we place on the court of public opinion.  We live to please others, to garner praise and recognition.  So, when someone disagrees, it is a deeply personal blow.  We have to realign our sense of selves to EXCLUDE the need for homogeny. 

My family chooses to not participate in our local soccer league.  We have reasons; some are reasonable and others are totally emotional and reactionary.  Regardless of our reasons and their validity, I am often astounded when I meet with hostility because of our choice.  I have friends who have raised their voices at me because I don’t sign my kids up for this particular sport!  Why on earth is this an issue? 

Soccer is silly and passing.  But what about bigger things that truly matter and have lasting impact?  We have to be ok with people choosing creeds, lifestyles and philosophies that go against our own choices.  We have to handle the disagreement as an honest disagreement without it being an affront.  That means I don’t have to pretend that all choices are ok  with me, and neither do you.  It also means that I cannot place the obligation to keep me happy on every individual who lives in my city, state, country and world!!  And, yet, that is essentially our final destination here: you aren’t a small-town, home-birthing, home-schooling, home-churching, stay-at-home-momming, family oriented, geekifying, game-playing, food-loving, mission-supporting, conservative-ish Christian person??  Well, fie on you! 

See how lonely I’d be?  Not to mention totally ineffective in any endeavor I’d like to accomplish.

So, make choices that exclude and be honest about it.  Allow others to do the same.  Choosing a faith in anything other than Jesus Christ should not offend me even though I believe that Jesus is the only Way, Truth and Life.  Being offended by Joe who believes differently dictates that Joe is obligated to smooth my ruffled feathers—a total paradox to what I claim!!  If Jesus is the ONLY way, why would I allow Joe the power to upset me and require Joe to change in order for me to be at peace?  That is a whole lotta Joe and a whole lotta me involved in a world view I purport to be Christ-focused.  That is utterly nonsensical.

We have to stop blending the line between offense and disagreement.  They are not the same.

 

Don’t Stop Learning

I’m kind of a nerd.  I like words a lot.  Grammar jokes tickle me to an extreme.  It is embarrassing, really. I own and wear this shirt.  And I laugh every time I read it.  I am that big of  a nerd. 

 

I think most people have pet peeves.  I think nerds have their own set of pet peeves.  Or maybe not.  Maybe it is just me.  Either way, this is my nerdy pet peeve.  “You use big words. Stop it! I don't want to learn them. I want to be simple. Not high falutin’”

I get this more than I like.  And I obey.  I try to use words that are less exact because I don’t want to get yelled at for using a more beautiful and precise word that the hear-er may not know or like.  But on the inside….

 
So, you are done learning ?!?!?
But you are alive!  Why?  I can think of two options.   First, you have more to learn and there is a possibility that you might need to acquire new words to allow for and to express more mature or broader thoughts, ideas and concepts. The other option is that you truly have no more to learn beyond what you absorbed in high school and you are here only to apportion your prodigious and amaranthine knowledge on the world. Those big scary words that you don’t like to use aren’t words that you don’t know; you just like to be approachable to the bourgeois class.  You are a magnanimous philanthrope !

I know it would be wrong for me to try to judge which of these options is reality in your individual case, so I’ll leave it to you.

A bit snotty

I had a lady fuss at me a while ago because I fussed at her.  Isn’t that the way with things?  I complained about not getting enough time with her.  She told me I had no right to put such demands on her.  I was making trouble.  She insisted that real friends can go weeks and months without seeing each other and still be friends.  Why was I being so difficult?

So, I was a good girl.  I let it go.  No more fussing from me.  No more audacious demands.  I help my tongue and resumed my proper station.  But this is what I thought on the inside.

You think you can stick a pin in me and expect I'll be there when you have time for or need of me. You call this a great friendship because everything is just the same after long  stretches of neglect. Yep. It's the same, all right. We live absent any interdependence or any real need to know what's going on in one another's life.  That isn't friendship. That isn't family. That's a nice acquaintanceship and you can have it.

So, that isn’t very nice, but there is something to my opinion.  I think there are two kinds of friends.  There are the ones I like to call camp pals.  These are the ones described in all the cute ecards that talk about great friends who can spend tons of time apart, but when they reunite, they pick up right where they left off.  I see people romanticize this notion in our society, these occasional friends who can give you a much needed belly laugh.  I have quite a few of these friends myself and I adore them and thank God for them.  But they are vacation or retreat friends.  You drop out of real life to reconnect.  The phrase often used to describe them actually reveals a lot: ‘like no time has passed.’  The friendship isn’t about growth or maturity.  When you get together, it is a great time to stop striving so hard and just be a kid again.  You might talk about your life and trials with this person, but it is just talk. You need the other type of friend if you want a companion who will go through those trials with you.

That other type of friend is the roadside walker, the day-to-day companion.  This one knows about the daily grind—the good, bad and boring.  This friend inconveniences herself to keep up with you, and joins you in the things that keep you from meeting more regularly with your camp pal.  You don’t drop everything to take a break from life to be with the roadside walker; on the contrary, you pick up each other’s lives together and carry on.  You don’t have to get yourself together before you can spend time with this person.  She comes without judgment and you just keep on keeping on.

Sometimes a friend can migrate from camp pal to roadside walker, or vice versa.  When a roadside walker becomes a camp pal, it is often because of a geographical move or a major change in lifestyle.  There is a sense that if you were still able, the camp pal would revert to road walker in an instant.  My problems arose because I let my feelings get hurt when a companion friend I saw four or five times a week decided we were going to be camp pals who had no plans to see one another at all.  I guess I have to learn to be a little more ‘cool’ about such things.