I Hate Rochester

I hate Rochester. That's not saying much, considering that I hated Lake Havasu too. But I don't remember hating California.

There's this parable I heard, I think from my wife, about this old man at the train station. He greets people as they get off the train. One man gets off the train, old man asks him: "Moving here?" The traveler responds: "Yes. How is this city?" The old man, rather than answering, asks a question in reply: "What was the city like where you moved from?" The traveler responds: "Pretty lousy". To this, the old man answers the travelers previous question: "Yeah, this city's pretty lousy too."
Another train comes in and another traveler steps off. Again, the old man, in greeting the traveler, asks :"Are you moving here?" The travler responds: "Yes. How is this city?" The old man, rather than answering, asks the question in reply: "What was the city like where you moved from?" This traveler responds: "It was pretty nice." The old man assures this traveler: "This city is pretty nice also."

If I have to explain the moral in this, you either need to drink more coffee or, like Sylar, eat more brains.

I don't mind the cold temperatures so much; I prefer them to the incessant triple-digits of Arizona. And they have trees out here, unlike most of Arizona, and you can TOUCH the trees and hug 'em if you're so inclined and NOT get spiked. I'm not just talking about cacti. There are these trees out West called Palo Verdes, they conceal spikes under all the leaves.

When I had first moved out to AZ, I was walking home from a late movie at about one in the morning. I needed to relieve myself and all the businesses were closed. I saw a lone tree on an embankment to the side of the road, and decided to provide it with a rare treat in the desert: water. As I was navigating the embankment, I slipped. Slid into this pretty pale green tree. Having grown up in Cali, I considered trees friendly. Sure, I suppose parts of So-Cal are classifiable as desert. But parts of Arizona are DESERT. So this "tree". I slide into it, figuring I could have stopped the slide, but why? Trees feel relatively friendly compared to sand and rocks. Son-of-a-sea-biscuit! That friggin' hurt, BAD. And so began my incredibly long list of things I hated about Arizona.

Now here I am in New York. People scoff at me when hearing of my decision to move out here. "WHY?" they ALL ask.
My wife's family is from here, she missed them. Of course, now the roles are somewhat reversed: I miss my "family". My mom and my sister. And my friends, damn I miss them. I've been out here nearing two years. I haven't talked to my best friend in California in over a year. My best friend in Arizona died in December. I just found out last week, I hadn't talked to him since September.

My wife, though successful, seems to be jealous of her brother and her relationship with her mom typically is tentative. I and my mom are thick-as-thieves, despite the crap she put us through and I don't ever think I'll be jealous of my sister. Though I think at times my sister may have been jealous of me. I think it's just a stereotypical girl-thing to be that way with moms and siblings.

Back to terrain. Everything in Arizona seemed dangerous. Snakes, scorpions, cacti, heat-stroke--you remember the evil sun in Super Mario Bros. 3? On the original Nintendo in desert world, like level 2 or sumthin'? It was as big as you and chased you around trying to kill you? Yeah--CLEARLY the Asian that created that level wasn't native to any Asian country; THEY WERE BORN AND RAISED IN ARIZONA!!! But, oh, I've never seen stars or sunsets as beautiful as those in that rugged desert. And as much as humans long for beautiful green pastures, nothing surpasses the colorful beauty of the rocks and mountains out there. More colors than a gay clothing-designer could fathom can be seen on one mountain-side in one dusk out in the desert.

New York. Different world. Before coming out here, I assumed that this being the older part of the country meant they'd be more advanced somehow. WRONG! This part of America should just revert back to horse-drawn carriages. They don't know what to do with vehicles. Out West, sure, about 1 in 3 drivers need to be shot. Out here, maybe 1 in 1000 deserve to utter the word "car". They drive 10 miles under the speed limit on a sunny summer day, yet do 70 in sleet, 50 mph winds, and 20 degree freezing cold. Like an SUV has better traction on ice than my Corolla. Every nightly news report: car crash, SUV involved. Hmph! The speed limits are wrong, the street widths are wrong, the street signs are as big as the fingernail on your pinky--if there's a street sign to be seen at all-- and the stop lights are on your side of the intersection so you gotta peer up at them! Oh GOD! I started off swearing profusely, now I just revert to this prehistoric growling and barking-- no words can dispel the primal rage I feel on the roads out here.