C-File #170: On Moving Back to Texas

June 27, 2009

On the off chance that whoever’s reading this is a couple and a baby moving back to Texas after several years in the wintry shores of New England, let me make the somewhat modest boast that I am the biggest expert, pound for pound, on moving back to Texas after several years that there ever was.

With that in mind (as it always should be), you should rest assured that everything is going to be just fine.  That’s right.  With me at your side, represented entirely by this handy page-and-a-half guide, resting assured is not only the rational choice – it is a moral imperative.

A little preparation and knowledge can ease any similarly awkward transition, such as menopause, or being born.  So let’s toss all that useless nonsense about “exploring together” out the metaphorical window and commence the direct transfer of preparation and knowledge from my head to yours!

There are many things about life in the South that might trouble or worry you, but, fortunately, most of these things are no real cause for trouble or worry, and you should feel extremely guilty about having these feelings.

For instance, upon returning to Texas, you might hear people making a rather odd but pronounced vowel-like sound in which the palette is brought low at the end of a diphthong.  This is no cause for alarm!  This is the letter “R,” and it is mostly harmless, its habitat ranging throughout the South and Mid-south regions of the United States. 

You might also find yourself startled from time to time by an unfamiliar, facial-mandibular gesture from people you don’t know in public spaces.  This is called the “insincere smile,” and it is nothing to be afraid of.  They can usually be warded off by mimicry.  I suggest practicing in front of a mirror.  Occasionally, the situation might escalate into a “How are you?” contingency.  The trick is to remember that, as far as Southerners are concerned, you are always “fine,” even when you are listening to top 40 hits on the radio, or you have typhus.

It is also valuable to remember that the peculiar skin sensation (sometimes accompanied by flushing and the release of endorphins) that you experience upon venturing outdoors is called “warmth,” and the flavorful meat concoction wrapped in fried or baked corn you will occasionally consume is called “decent Mexican food.”

Of course, the most significant differences to be accounted for are the cultural differences, as explained by many tenured anthropologists who couldn’t quite make it in the actual sciences.  Studies have shown that southerners and northerners are, to take a quote directly from a study by Carnegie Mellon researchers, “different in some ways.”  Let’s all take a moment to reflect on this important concept.

Ready to go?  Me too!

Sometimes, if you find yourself missing certain aspects of Yankee culture, you can take the initiative yourself and take steps to actively recreate conditions like those you’re used to.  You might, for example, carry a large Dunkin Donuts cup with you wherever you go, or complain loudly about public transportation to no one in particular as you trudge around a bus station.  But recreating certain aspects of big city New England life require active self-delusion, as explained by that wisest of Saturday morning cartoons, Baby Kermit:

Truer words have never been sung so incessantly.  It is, in fact, the case (as so many things are) that by closing your eyes and wishing real hard, you can enter a magical fantasy animated world via disembodied harp music based largely on George Lucas films.  (This is also the basis of sizable portions of President Obama’s financial policy.)

So, with just a little imagination (and perhaps some prescription medication), the ozone-induced haze over Dallas can become the morning mist rising off Quincy Bay.  The flat Texas plains can become the rolling Blue Hills.  The mall-of-a-thousand-leather-stores can become a snow covered winter wonderland at Christmas.  The awkward pause at church when the guy in charge of the Lord’s Supper forgets to get up on time can become a Spirit-led moment of peace and serenity.  And the night-time chirping cicadas can become the tinny chorus of a hundred max-volume iPods happily deafening a train-load of oblivious Red Line commuters.

See?  Isn’t that better?

I told you it would be.