I am a child of suburbia.
Caught between city and country like the wall of a medieval city, suburbia makes its promises and keeps them:
I promise unto you that everything you need shall be close by, served to you by giant corporations.
I promise unto you that you shall be free of the urban blight and the country rot alike; neither panhandler nor coyote shall disrupt your musings, so help us.
I promise unto you that while nothing may be open past midnight, you shall be able to walk unconcerned in the darkness of two am, and not be set upon, so help us.
I promise unto you that your children shall grow up safe and deathly dull.
I promise unto you that your neighbors shall be kindly and concerned only with petty matters.
I promise unto you that the realities of life shall stay far away, boxed neatly on the newsprint thrown onto your lawn every morning.
Suburbia has something of the safety of the country and something of the convenience of the city, blended into something disarmingly homogeneous, willing to protect you in its gentle white wings as long as you are suitably quiet.
It is the primary irony of suburban life that you will be forever scorned for daring to live in the least challenging place on earth. City and country alike shall scorn you for daring to live someplace comfortable, safe, and convenient; real people enjoy their inconveniences and brag about them, after all. By choosing to live comfortably you take the path of least resistance.
Something about suburban life smooths you, blunts you, damps you, pads you; you move smiling through a friendly world and sleep unconcerned by noise and danger. The dangers of the 'real' world are far away, so much noise and thunder in the distance. full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.
When one lives in the city, one pays through the nose for the privilege. Call it a twenty-four-hour entertainment tax, and rejoice.
When one lives in the country, one lives cheaply, graciously, at the beck and call of nature in all its wild glory. Call it a welcome tradeoff for the enforced solitude and the distant commute, and rejoice.
When one lives in suburbia, one subscribes to the soul-swaddling sameness of it, neither paying too much nor too little, neither too convenient nor too inconvenient. Suburbia is for those who cannot decide and must have a little of everything; suburbia is the Sunday afternoon buffet of property. Nothing tastes too strong or too weak, nothing tastes too bad or too good, and there is a wealth of mediocre choices open to one.
In suburbia, one drives safely in a well-maintained car. One says please and thank you. One smiles at one's neighbors. One participates in community get-togethers. One stops and stares in awe at the greenery. One rejoices in the man-made lake that draws geese, less than a hundred steps from one's door. One finds oneself awake at one-thirty, with nowhere to go. One wonders when one started starring in a fifties sitcom. One deals. Or one develops angst. One leaves, or worse: one does not leave.
Welcome to suburbia. Don't mind the smell of plastic; you'll get used to it in time.
Replies: add your comment: currently 6 comments
I don't know, I like my suburbian town, so near Miami Beach, adn other big party places, but so far away. Also close to the evergladdes, and the rednecks there. It's comfortable. I have a "7 to 11" out here. Not a "7/11" a "7 to 11". My local library is as big as my living room. My bookstore is my only contact with real literature. I swear. It's cool. I live in my cheap non-cookie cutter house, and stare across the street at another house with no fences, or cameras, or system at all. Let alone bars.
I'm a wuss. So what? It's easy as hell. I don't get the paper though. I have the ever-wonderful FOX News channel for that...
Suburbia rules.
Heathen over and out...
Posted by Aaron @ 06/28/2002 02:44 AM EST
See, this is why Nezumi loves Halifax/Dartmouth so much. We're a small city (technically two with a harbour between) that marries the best of city and suburb, yet reassuringly close to the country. It may be an economically depressed area, but Nezumi loves it.
We have /trees/. Lots and lots of trees. In the /downtown/. People are, by and large, polite. There are little subcultures, like the punks, goths and the gay community. We have an active pagan community. Yet Nezumi has never been robbed, mugged or cheated to any large degree. In fact, Nezumi has only /known/ two people who have been mugged in this city, and that was a long time ago. Sure, there's a dearth of services for someone in Nezumi's position, like good gender-related therapy and a bisexual community big enough to command the respect of the rather staid G&L community, but still in all it's nice.
As Spider Robinson was known to say, "Nova Scotia is the best place in the world. But don't tell anyone or they'll all want to come here." Nezumi tends to agree.
Posted by Nezumi @ 06/28/2002 08:46 AM EST
This one once lived in suburbia, but now resides in Cow Crack California.
One finds herself missing her eight minute commute, now that it has been multiplied in length by 37.5 times. One finds herself getting used to cows instead of children staring at her as she drives by. One finds herself reading signs that advertise "Pigs 4 Sale, CHEEP!" about the neighborhood instead of "GARAGE SALE! Saturday only!" One finds herself laughing and then crying in the car when she realizes that has become so accustomed to her new lifestyle that she now describes the single movie theater forty minutes away as being "just around the corner." And it is. Comparatively. And one finds that one's husband's commute overlaps one's own in such a way that over the course of a single week...one has a grand total of twelve hours to spend with one's spouse.
This one wonders if the one known as Mooncalf knows how lucky she is... *sob and sigh*
Posted by Meriko @ 06/28/2002 10:22 AM EST
Yes, it's the kind of place where I too can be a wuss and no one cares. And I like it that way; living peaceful days, with no wars, and no stealing. Where people can trust in other people and live in peace.
Okay, those last lines I stole from Trigun, but there is truth to them. It is very peaceful here, with low crime rates. And people will leave you alone especially if you leave them alone. But they are friendly and many will be a friend to you if you are to them. It's very, very nice to live here.
I am glad I live here and not in other parts of the city, to be sure, where people may not leave you alone, especially if they just don't like you, because you are a good person and they know they are not...That's really scary, but does happen all over...
Posted by Wolf @ 06/29/2002 10:59 AM EST
I grew up in one of those typical insular little towns, and in my angsty teen phase I really believed that it was the town that caused all my unhappiness.
As I grew up I learned to ignore everyone around me that acted like an ass: problem solved. I just smirk at people now and then and let them be as petty as they wanna be. It doesn't affect me, doesn't have to. Yes, it's annoying in technical aspects like distance to stores I like, etc., but I don't have that "suburbia is a soul-deadening zombie void" angst thing anymore.
My attitude toward the whitebread mundanity is what hurt me, when I could have been ignoring it all along. ;)
Posted by StB @ 06/30/2002 04:44 PM EST
The grass (from Lowe's) is always greener on the other side of the Masonite fence ^^. One may get used to the smell of suburbia's plastic, but after ten years I still have yet to fully adapt to the smells of cow carcasses rotting in the woods next to my house =P;;.
Posted by Shaz @ 07/08/2002 02:37 PM EST
