Two weeks into Washington and I've already had to get out my Kentucky guns. Don't misread this; I don't mean literally machines that hold ammo and regurgitate it on command. I had to unpack half my bag on the airport sidewalk to stay under the weight limit as it was- no way in hell I'd sacrifice choice clothes in favor of carting a heavier- though strangely about just as legal- option across the country.
I mean guns in the sense of gumption: standing up for the state I grew up in, in the face of those with too much ego about where they live and too much ignorant arrogance to read up on 'the downtrodden everywhere else'.
The situation, lest I lose you with any more qualifiers: On the latter end of a beautiful, cruise-y bike ride today around beautiful, cruise-y Tacoma, I decided to treat myself with a fancy macchiato (like a capuccino but with less milk, duh.) from a fancy coffee joint downtown. There I sat on a cushy northwest couch, sipping away at the deftly crafted northwest fern that danced atop the foam in my cup and leafing through a trendy alternative paper and damn if I didn't feel pretty chuffed about my new home.
And then this guy at a table nearby starts talking about Texas. And how Texans are terrible, overly-conservative people. And how he asks his family in Texas if they even vote? And do they even talk to the other people in the state to try to change their minds and their stupid opinions and idiot ideologies?
Obviousy, my ears sparked and since I have to cross the room anyway to deposit my emptied cup, I decided to chime on passing him with something about being from Kentucky and knowing how hard it can be to try and talk sense into people who veer so vehemently from the liberal mind.
Now here's where things go from downhill to really downhill. Rather than taking the conversation to a more fulfilling level, ie, returning to whatever it was that got him talking about Texas, this man makes a flippant remark about how I come from a state where you can't marry whoever you want, but can marry your sister.
Good one, mister. Next, tell me about how many teeth West Virginians have. And how Tennesseans are dumb backwoodsies. I love played out jokes, so please, keep them coming.
Or don't. I respond by saying that actually that's not legal in Kentucky, nor anywhere else. I also tell him that though Kentucky does not yet (yet!) allow gay marraige, it will recognize those which occured in other states. And finally I tell him about how our governor is a democrat and almost 40% of the state went blue in 2012, not a win, but progress.
Then I ninja barrel kick his superiority. Or something like that. If by something like that I mean I politely said good-bye to him and the barrista and made a quick exit on what I think to be a high point.
Kentucky has shortcomings, but it's also where I grew up and where I call home. It's true that I often find myself qualifying the state, comparing it to others and using it's shortfalls as a basis for progressive theoreticals.
Kentucky can be joked about, but do not sucker punch it.
