Sunshine Vs. Ocean: A New State of Mind

My friend asked me what I noticed was most different about living in Rhode Island as opposed to living in Florida.

Well, actually, no, no one asked me that because I haven't really made any friends here yet.  But if I did, I bet they would ask me that.  And for the sake of this post, let's just say they have.

So anyway, I was chatting with my imaginary friend Imogene Nary and she said, "Hey, what do you notice is the most different about living in Rhode Island as opposed to living in Florida?"

"Well, Imogene, I'll tell you, there are quite a few things*..."

1.)  Sticks are sticks (and not snakes,) logs are logs (and not alligators)

This is something that is always tripping me up.  Though I am sure there are snakes here in Rhode Island, I have yet to see one, as opposed to Florida where you often saw some slithering through your garden or cutting across your driveway.  When I would go running outside I would often feel the need to slow down every time I saw a random stick in the road because I always panicked thinking it was a snake.  Dead or alive, they always freaked me out.  The same thing with gators; walking by any body of water in Florida always meant scanning the surface for a telltale sign of a lumpy head with eyes poking out.  For some reason, as equally freaked out by gators as I was by snakes, I was also fascinated by them.  It really is like staring at a living dinosaur, so I have to respect them for their ability to survive millennia after millennia.

But here, you see a stick on the side of the road, and it's just a stick.  You walk by a pond or the bay, and there are rocks or bits of wood, but no gators.  You would think that would be an easy transition for your brain to make but it's surprisingly difficult when you've been training your brain to spot death in its slithery or sharp forms.

2.)  Sandhill Cranes vs. Turkeys

I remember when we first moved to Lakewood Ranch after buying our first house and we were given a little starter's manual about living in the area.  There was a section about the wildlife we would encounter, such as gators or turtles, but also sandhill cranes.  We read that they are a protected species of bird that build nests in the marshes and mate for life.  I remember thinking back then, aw that's awesome!  And when you first see one you think, wow!  How majestic!  But after a few weeks of tenuous driving, because one of them would suddenly decide to start crossing the road, the majesty wore off.  They are these huge birds just walking around town, not giving a f*** about you or your timetable.  And you have to give them the right of way because of their "high status" so whenever you were driving home and you noticed a back-up on your local road, inevitably it would be some gangly sandhill crane taking the scenic route.  Oh, and their squawk could set off a car alarm.  The first time I heard it I thought the invasion was finally coming.

Here, we have turkeys.  Now, when we first got here and I saw turkeys crossing the road, I got just as giddy as I did with the sandhill cranes.  But now that I've been here for a while, they are beginning to become just as annoying.  First of all, they gather in these huge clumps, so waiting for their slow asses to pass is like waiting in line at Disney.  No one seems to know where to go, someone is always waiting for someone else, and someone else is barking something indiscernible to the one way in the back who isn't paying attention anyway.  After a while, you're glad you're allowed to at least eat these deliciously dumb creatures.

3.)  Grocery Stores

Say what you will about Publix.  I have heard mixed reviews on how they treat their employees (and given their size as a corporation they should be treating them like gold).  But whatever magical spell they place on their employees makes them the most exceptionally friendly and helpful grocery chain I have ever met (except for maybe Wegmans, but that's for another debate).  Now Publix, like any good villain, has almost absolute power in Florida.  There are a few outside chains that try to hold their ground like Winn-Dixie.  But for the most part, Publix owns Florida.  If they are aiming to build a new community, you know Publix will be built first and foremost.  And also like any good villain, they know how to hold their power over not just the land but the customer as well.  You walk into a Publix and everything is bright and shiny.  The aisles are wide and the carts are easy to move.  And the check-out clerks!  All you have to do is put your crap on the conveyer belt and stand back.  They move your food carefully into plastic bags, cloistering the fruits and veggies from the meat, keeping cold things together, tucking boxes together like a perfect Tetris game, and all the while smiling and asking about your day.  Oh and also using more plastic bags than a New York City professional dog walker.

Here in Rhode Island, let's just say, the attitude is a bit more, "get your shit and get out".  I say that in jest (sort of) but you have to understand when you've been dealing with Publix for years you just get used to that level of friendliness from your grocer.  So anything less feels like you're ruining someone's day by being there.  I remember the first time I went to the Shaw's near our house and I was proud of myself for remembering to bring my cloth bags (you must bring your own bags up here or else they give you paper bags, which is actually brilliant and one of my favorite things about the stores up here).  I proudly propped up my bags at the front of my purchases and awaited the usual peppy interaction with the grocer.  I'll say this; I could've robbed the place and gotten away with it because this person did not look at me once.  I kept waiting for my moment to say hi or ask how they were but instead, as I noticed the groceries piling up and no one there to start bagging them, it became a rush against time to bag my groceries myself.  Again, I don't mind, but it's not something you normally think about when there are always two grocers in every checkout at Publix, and if there's not at first, as soon as they see a big order, someone appears out of the floorboards to assist you.  So there I was, trying to break the silence with some acknowledgment and smiling (with my mask on, because I'm smart like that) as I frantically placed the bread on top of ice cream and eggs with cans of soup just so I could catch up to her lightning speed.  

As I carefully balanced my bags in my cart and took my receipt, it hit me.  You're up North again, baby.  You don't have to try so hard.  These are hardworking people who suffer long dark winters and who are probably just tired from a long day.  And you probably have to bag your own groceries because, like most places, they're short-staffed because the pandemic was taken really seriously up here.  Case numbers were high and people didn't have the chance to step outside in the middle of February for breaks of isolation the way you could in Florida.  

Bottom line, you don't need to be their best friend, you just have to be kind and patient and appreciative to all your new neighbors, be they grocers, hairdressers, or mail carriers.  Because you're one of them now.  And soon, the sunny lights of Florida will dim in your eyes but instead, you'll get a more rugged and natural look at your surroundings, and an all-new deeper appreciation for the different life up here will emerge.

*Stay tuned for another supplemental post about even MORE things I noticed that are different between these two opposite states.  I know you'll be riveted...