The past decade I've lived primarily in the Rocky Mountains and the Midwest, and I had gotten so used to hearing only dull silences respond to my automated "Excuse me's" in public, that it took me a sec to register my happy shock.
I was already in a good mood you see, thanks to the clean air so richly-oxygenated you can cut with a knife, and the glistening ocean, and the snow-capped Olympics across the Puget Sound, and the 40+ degree winter temps free from polar vortexes, and the Seahawks' latest Superbowl run, and the pretty girl by my side declaring that the waterfront reminded her of ZΓΌrich; but the mutual "Excuse me!" confirmed it for me--I've been away from the Pacific Northwest for far too long.
It wasn't just that one "Excuse me!" that sealed the deal, either: near midnight, I turned a corner and nearly ran into this tall dude. He just patted me jovially on the chest and back and shouted, without a hint of alcohol on his breath, "Happy New Years man!" and marched on his way. I'm told you have to go all the way to the Deep South before you find more people this unfailingly polite--but then, I'm not even sure "polite" is the right word here, for there's just this vivaciousness to Seattle folk, they're awake, they're alive. One could argue that all big-city folk are energetic just out of necessity, but I guarantee I found more smiling faces on the streets of Seattle that one day than in all my visits to, say, Chicago.
A note on Chicago: There's an old Frank Sinatra standard, "My Kind of Town," a love-letter to Chicago. Now, I've been to Chicago--the Art Institute alone is worth the trip, the view from the Sears Tower is breathtaking, and Deep-Dish lives up to the hype. It's also dirty, crowded, crime-ridden, corrupt, either bitterly cold or visibly-humid, and flat as a pancake. So, while I've enjoyed my visits to Chicago, I can't really claim to relate with the mood of "My Kind of Town." That is, unless you swap out Chicago for Seattle--then that song makes perfect sense to me!
For I'm also informed that Seahawks fans are considered especially obnoxious--how that makes us different from the rest of NFL fandom, I can't fathom. But, we are particularly loud, which apparently rubs some folks the wrong way, as though we were implying we loved our (until very recently) craptastic teams more than everyone else loves theirs. I assure you that we had no such presumption in mind; it's not that Washington folk are loud sports-fans, you see, no--it's that we're loud in general! To my friends who inform me that my voice carries, I assure you: in Seattle, I'm normal voiced.
Once while I adjuncted in SLC, a student came up to me and said that I reminded her exactly of her friend who is also from Washington; "Why, is he awesome too?" I rejoined, not missing a beat. She rolled her eyes and said, "That's exactly what he would say too!" These aren't people just gritting their teeth to get along, no--we all know how lucky we are to be from the Pacific Northwest. It's like how Hawaiians rarely honk in traffic--it's not that they're overly polite, it's just, why get mad when you're already in paradise? And when the fireworks went off spectacularly on the Space Needle come midnight, my girl finally understood why I never paid much attention to the Times Square ball-drop. Why go to New York when we already have Seattle? It's a place where you can unironically sing:
Now this could only happen to a guy like me
And only happen in a town like this
So may I say to each of you most gratefully
As I throw each one of you a kiss
This is my kind of town, Seattle is
My kind of town, Seattle is
My kind of people, too
People who smile at you
And each time I roam, Seattle is
Calling me home, Seattle is
Why I just grin like a clown
It's my kind of town
And each time I leave, Seattle is
Tuggin' my sleeve, Seattle is
Pike Place Market, Seattle is
Century Link field, Seattle is
One town that won't let you down
It's my kind of town!
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