Have you ever heard the saying that if you don't know who the geek in your crowd is that chances are it's you? I have a bit of a modification to that that goes something like this; if you don't know who the hick is in the crowd, it just might be you. That's me. Front row, center section, with the big neon sign. I have always known this fact, but I was reminded just how much of a hick I actually am while traveling to Boston to see my daughter.
First of all you must understand, that to me, cities of any kind are scary places. My idea of a city is say, Montpelier, Vermont where you might find more moose then people on any given day and the only things that are dangerous are the congressmen or women in the capital building or trying to find a parking space on the 4th of July. I would be more comfortable in the woods with a tent and flashlight with a black bear for a neighbor. In all fairness, some of this is the medias fault. Everything from Dirty Harry movies of the 70's to the local nightly news would give you the impression that cities of any size are full of crazy people who speak with funny accents and want to shoot you with large caliber weapons. Even knowing this Is a false impression I'd still rather deal with an angry moose.
My first experience was the serious mistake of actually driving into Boston. To the uninitiated, of which I am no longer one of, it seems easy enough, just follow the directions that your printed up map tells you and you will get there with a smile on your face without having even the slightest hint of stress, yea right. I now understand why seasoned veterans of commuting from out of the city use the train. First, the map lied, OK so a map can't lie, it only can exaggerate the truth a bit or more correctly, it left out certain details, such as one way streets and merging traffic. Second, it doesn't tell you of the legendary manner of drivers that Boston is famous for. I had heard these rumors before making the trip, but the experience of it defies any kind of rational thought. I have never been sworn at so much in my life, since boot camp any how, and that was from the people walking out in front of me! The drivers were worse. You have to understand that my idea of traffic is being able to see tail lights at about a half a mile away or having to slow down because a deer just ran out in front of you. The deer alone can cause me to brake out into a sweat if it's close enough, so imagine my horror at bumper to bumper traffic with multiple lanes merging all at once and not being able to see the road sign to know which way I had to go! Obviously, I survived my encounters with the Boston road warriors but I started to catch a glimpse of how much of a hick I actually am.
My second trip in really clarified to me just how truly hicified I have become. This time I thought that I'd be smart and take the train in. Sounded simple enough. Looked online to see what train to take that would bring me the closest to the hospital, found it and because I know where that one is and it seemed like a straight shot, I decided to go that route. I should just state here doing stuff like this without someone else along, who actually knows what they are doing, can be very stressful to me and make my imagination run wild. But I didn't start to panic until I was informed that the train that I was going to take wasn't running, so I would have to catch the bus there at the train station, get off in Harvard Square and then take the train to the hospital. Panic time, hick style was about to start.
Getting to the station and onto the bus was fairly simple but I was not prepared for the amount of people that can fit onto a bus, remember we are talking a metro bus here, not a school bus, add that to the fact that I didn't know exactly where I was headed on this bus (it had several stops to make on the way) a driver who didn't speak very loud, I thought he said Harvard when he actually said Porter, and the full knowledge that at any minute the Crips and Bloods where going to jump on the bus and start a gang war or I would get mugged by a local hotdog vendor and there you have my mind set.
As things happened, I was not caught up in a gang war and I did manage to get to Harvard and then onto the hospital via the train but not before I showed how ignorant I was by asking directions and info about the ticket machines. I had always understood that any place that had a booth that said information on it would be a place to actually get information, apparently that was my hickness thinking.
My last realization of how much I was a hick came just from my observations of the people on both the bus and the train. I am by nature, a jeans and flannel shirt kind of guy. When winter rolls around I am interested in warmth and not fashion. If my clothes and shoes are 10 years out of date but they keep me warm I am usually quite content but I felt massively out of place there. I have been on commercial sized farms that didn't have as much leather as I saw on the train and bus. I didn't know just how many styles and name brands existed, of course that might be due to the fact that I get my styles from wally world, but still I was shocked and suddenly aware at just how much I stood out. I was wearing my typical Jeans and shirt but I was also wearing a bright red winter Jacket and my black felt fedora style hat (something that you would see men in the 40's and 50's wearing) along with my sneakers, there wasn't a name brand on me and in a sea of black and other dark colors I was in red! I stuck out like a sore thumb though I didn't realize it until I was looking in the windows reflection and trying to figure out who the hick was looking back at me....
So, now I am a seasoned veteran. I know how to get to point B from point A without too much trouble, I can quickly navigate my way through the bus and train stations and perhaps look like I know where I am heading, but alas, I will always be a hick but don't laugh at me when you see me in the city in my fedora and red jacket, just remember some day you might be in the boonies and you may want me to introduce you to that bear before he introduces himself.
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