The first time I stood in line for a hoagie, I was intimidated by the 15 options on the menu. Five minutes in line couldn't help me, and the counter person said "well stand aside and let the guy behind you order then".
I can empathize that someone from a place where everyone is politely addressed as "Sir" or "Ma'am" might find interactions jarring if they don't begin with a "hello, how are you doing today?"
she placed my accent correctly, asking if I was taking the train to New York "like all the other young kids with backpacks". I bellyached about the humidity in July and she let out a deep laugh. she wrapped the sandwich in halves since it would be easier to carry when I already had so much.
I still think about that interaction. I think that the Northeast has a charm to it developed by centuries of their communities existing in such tight quarters (albeit ones with a history of bitter sentiments and actions against Black people like Boston, South Philly, etc.). I wish strangers talked to each other more, because maybe that takes the edge off of directness.
I read the blog post feeling the author's rage, but your insight is far more important. Humanity's collective goodwill is stifled by friction and inertia while moneyed interests are given jetpacks.
I feel this so strongly. same story as you, and the postal code idea is brilliant.
I've traveled to the Northeast US a fair bit and am so surprised at how many drinking establishments those towns can support (or not, if the bars are in decline).
Take Manayunk, a town that got amalgamated into present day Philadelphia. It's on a commuter rail line that leads to Center City. A pretty little town with humble homes on small roads nearby. The name of the town means "the place to drink" in the Lenape language. You couldn't design a more idyllic small-town so close to a heavily urbanized area, in my opinion. But I digress.
While walking around with a tomato pie I was trying to finish before taking the train downtown, I counted about 12 bars full of who looked to be regulars, all on a weeknight. laughs a plenty, no banging club music. just the sound of life from townsfolk who probably go back a few generations at least.
in contrast, the PNW has always had transient worker populations, but even homeless people here often exude friendliness and a willingness to talk to strangers. it may be because they rely more on networks of goodwill than those with salaries and lease agreements. it may be because their living quarters are closer together, whether in the shelter or on the street. whatever the reason, there is a noticable dearth of that human connection with my life in the PNW, and it's such a recurring point of conversation that the horse has now been beaten to a pulp.
the way you long for the pub culture of the Northeast US is all too familiar to me. it's my Disneyland, because it's basically a fantasy when our cities are designed the way they are.
I've never thought as deeply about my love for pineapple on pizza as you have. Maybe I should grill some young pineapple and throw it on my next pie for that caramelized, charred flavour.
While great at keeping beer cold, the frosted surface creates tons of nucleation points for CO2 in the beer, overfoaming it in the process. And the coldness lowers volatility of aromatic compounds in the beer.
Great read. I'm glad that the author stressed how systemic tech addiction is, and not a moral failure of the individual. It's only slightly ironic that he asked for readers to plug his article on social media, but the word needs getting out.
Wardriving is something necessary when you are too broke in America and every McBurgerHut has wifi. I wish I came across warchalks too. That would've been a great help