Monday, August 15, 2016

Head In The Sand

Like it or not, it's been easily more than five years since I crossed over to this side of the Big Puddle. Yes, it does take a while to appreciate the esoteric qualities this little town that could offers but that only means that it has slowly but slyly supplanted quite a few other places I've lived in over the years.

It grows on you, really.

Definitely helped in part by a lovely - though seemingly on perpetual rotation - group of friends.

Without whom, I doubt I would have so easily fit in here - without going stark raving mad for a little while. After the manic madness of the metropolis, it can be quite a serious adjustment to dial life back several notches and watch the minutes tick by. Not only do people move a tad slower over here, they prefer it that way and wouldn't want it any other way.

Much to my disgust of course but I have grown to accept it as part and parcel of the small town life. Doesn't mean I don't still automatically reach out to blare a honk at one of the numerous snaildrivers here but at least these days I try to refrain unless absolutely life-threateningly necessary.

With oil companies rightsizing all over the place, several disgruntled city slickers have found themselves unwillingly uprooted from their urban diaries and peremptorily jettisoned across to this side of the Big Puddle. Imagine their wailing cries of dismay as they are forcibly cannonballed towards what they imagine would be the literal end of civilization away from everything they know; a savage land peopled with beasts, bandits and brigands.

Perhaps they imagined it like this? 

Hard to blame them sometimes since all advertorials about this city seems to focus primarily on the caves and the crevasses, the cliffs and the climbs - with very little attempt made to correct the generally erroneous assumption of primitive barbarism here. It's all about the tropical wilds of Borneo over here - at least according to the tourist posters.

So you can imagine what a rarefied city boy would think. Some would however recover quickly from the ignominious fall, dust themselves off and find that it isn't all as bad as it seems. That's what I did after all.

Of course then again there are a stubborn handful who stick their heads in the sand after landing and absolutely refuse to even peek their heads up. Wallowing in their assumed misery for the entire time they are here rather than try to find some spark of happiness; ever-ready to find any possible avenue of escape available by block-booking weekly flights back to the other side of the Big Puddle.

Paul : How's your day? 
Ostrich : I hate the place. I hate the people. I hate the food. 
Paul : Wow.  Much hate. 

Pathetic. You haven't even given it a chance. Perhaps if you pulled your head out of the sand and looked, then things wouldn't be so sad. It does however explain the consistently full flights to-and-fro during the weekends.

No comments: