I don’t have much time because I think they’re on to me. Let me just get this out quickly. I’m sitting in an uncannily good facsimile of a Panera Bread in a suburb just north of Indianapolis.

If my well-trained urban senses weren’t so sharp, I might be lulled into believing I’m in civilization instead of some surreal twilight-zone joke.

As I sit here hacking away on my daughter’s pink Sony VAIO, my family lay asleep at my wife’s sister’s house. Across from me sits a man laughing at his Blackberry. I spy the mousse in his hair and can overhear his conversation. I know he must be stranded here on his way to or from California because people at the Steak ‘n Shake across the parking lot can hear him too. Listening intently, I hear him intone “real estate” and “my partners” at a whisper just above the sound of a Airbus passing overhead. Yep. Californian.

I have to give it to he Indians here, their attention to detail and eye for minutiae is mindblowingly good. But something just seems wrong. The woman at the counter taking my order is neither rude nor ironic. In fact, I think they modeled her after this character.

There are several people pecking away at their laptops, again, almost convincingly. Like children banging away at a Fisher Price keyboard, I know that these well-intentioned but primitive people could not be actually accessing the Internet. It is a known fact that Japanese electronics just doesn’t function from the dead zone that begins East of Harrisburg and runs to the Sierra Nevada range.

The dead giveaway comes when I hear a man speaking in a strange accent. “Must be a systems analyst from Bangalore,” I mistakenly think. Casting a glance sideways, I realize how wrong, wrong, wrong this all is. He’s a sixty-ish man with blue eyes and fair complexion! “What the Hell is going on here?” I almost say aloud. White people don’t speak this way!

I need only to make it to Saturday. The simplistic kindness, cleanliness and safety of this place is killing me. Oh to get back to Philly. I need to be roughed up on the subway by some Italian union labor or share a good cry with one of my “artistic” co-workers.

See you this weekend.

Posted by Cranky @ 10:00 am
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1. Isn’t flyover country bizarre?!? It’s like another world isn’t it?

   I can see why you’d feel so out-of-sorts.

   comment by Preston Taylor Holmes — Tuesday, November 25, 2008 @ 10:59 am

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2. Are you casting aspersions on Californians? I’ll have you know that I have never once put mousse in my hair.

   OK, I am off to help some first-time homebuyer purchase some depressed California Real Estate…

   -Sent from my Verizon Blackberry

   comment by Nigel — Tuesday, November 25, 2008 @ 11:49 am

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3. Nigel, you know 1) I’m not dissing you and 2) I’ve had enough California for two lifetimes.

   Mr. Mousse was probably the guy who sold your current client the 1.25% ARM.

   comment by Cranky — Tuesday, November 25, 2008 @ 6:28 pm

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4. Aw, Gordo. You’re so close, yet so far. But our eyes adore you.

   Of course I’m speaking for Merri and I.

   comment by Eric S. — Tuesday, November 25, 2008 @ 11:35 pm

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5. Welcome to Indiana Crankster, next time come about five hours south and we’ll get together, drink moonshine and shoot assault rifles.

   comment by Swamp Rabbit — Sunday, November 30, 2008 @ 10:00 am

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6. You kids are perfect examples of Midwestern hospitality, which I had in barrelfuls last week.

   comment by Cranky — Sunday, November 30, 2008 @ 5:37 pm

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7. Alright there Gordon! I have heard enough outta you! Acting like your just such an East-coaster, please, I’ve spent my entire life in Philly and THIS is the REAL America. Sorry that you have been subjected to life on both coasts and cant see the true beauty of REAL AMERICA!!

   comment by Miriam — Sunday, November 30, 2008 @ 8:37 pm

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8. Gordo,

   Very impressive summary of flyover country. Just a quick tutorial for your next visit to Indianapolis… we refer to ourselves as “Hoosiers” not Indians… we don’t want to offend the former inhabitants. Also, for those seeking a nostalgic waltz thru our history… rent the film Hoosiers (c. 1986) as it will showcase how hardwork and teamwork can accomplish great things. It’s based on a true story… one of the best sports films ever per the experts. Not to fear for those in Philly… Rocky is also at the top of just about every repectable list (mine included)as well!

   comment by Hoosier Mark — Sunday, November 30, 2008 @ 9:37 pm

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