I am a proud Seattle native, and so this week has been sweet. In the spirit of fun, I offer 10 Seattle stereotypes I agree with and why.
First, let me dispel the biggest Seattle myth out there. Those guys at The Market (Pike Place Market) are NOT always standing there throwing salmon around. They are real people. They have names. They have dreams.
— We love flannel,
So soft. It’s the fabric of the gods, weaved by angels. It’s like being licked by a thousand kittens.
— We are guilt-ridden environmentalists.
If you throw a plastic bottle into the trash, we will look at you like you are eating a baby. Shame on you for even using a plastic bottle in the first place. Where is your grocery bag made of hemp? And, don’t forget to compost your dog’s poop.
— We love the Space Needle,
It is absolutely our city’s focal point. Every single time I’m there, I feel connected, grounded. I’m sure it must sit atop a secret portal, like Cathedral Rock in Sedona or Mt. Shasta in Oregon.
— We are metaphysical seekers and hippies.
— We love live music.
Last summer, my son played bass in the Seattle School of Rock house band. First rehearsal, their instructor Zeke told them, “Work hard. Show up on time. Be humble. Don’t ever think you’re the best, because you’re not. This IS Seattle.” So many creative, eclectic bands, it boggles the mind. And, it’s not only rock, punk, prog, jazz and folk. Seattle Opera and Seattle Symphony are stellar.
— We love — and need — good coffee.
It can be Starbucks (Guatemala Antigua) but I especially dig old creaky coffee houses. The more piercings and body art, the better the barista. Girls with glasses and severe bangs are the best.
— We adore our dogs.
Labs, retrievers, terriers, and mutts. They are our children, furry little Gods. In Seattle you will see doglings in coffee shops, book stores (we also love reading), dentist offices, grocery stores, and on public transportation. There may be rules against it, but nobody would ever think to nark. Go to the beach or Green Lake and peek into any baby stroller, there’s a 20 percent chance you’ll find a fur-baby.
— We are polite to a fault.
I didn’t hear a real-life car horn until I was 12. No, you first, I insist.
— We are herb friendly. I don’t smoke it these days, but have in the past. I have never seen the harm in it compared to other drugs or alcohol. The typical weed-night scenario involves cartoons, pizza, candy, and philosophical discussions. Also, people forget that it doesn’t have to be smoked. They make it into cookies and candy and other treats. Just saying.
— We hate that it rains here every single day — without fail. Growing up, my mother instructed me to lie to tourists who came in the summer. “When they go on about the beautiful weather, tell them it is never like this.” she said. “Tell them it always rains, so they won’t want to move here.”
It’s time for me to grab a cup of coffee, crank up the Nirvana, and get back to staring out the window at this soul-crushing rain I see outside today.