.
.
For readers who live elsewhere, try to imagine what your city or town might have looked like about 85 years ago and that'll give you some idea of where we are. Add hills and trees. Actually, that should give you a chillingly accurate picture of this place. If, in your intensely focused imaginings you made the gross judgmental error of visualizing more than a couple of gas stations and no-frills motels, go back another 10 years.
Before I embark upon another tirade about how "uncivilized" this town is and drone on about all that it lacks, let me first frame this by saying that I no longer see big cities as bastions of civilization; nor do I believe that thousands of adjoining, overpriced retail establishments and the agonizingly of-the-moment shoppers who cruise them must punctuate the landscape in order to construct a quality life in said location. Truth be told, I'm relieved and happy to have fled such locales.
That said, where does one draw the line? At what point in product- and service-bereftitude (this isn't the first time I've made up a word) does a town become habitable or inhabitable? Let's play a round of "What if?"
Consider the errands that might flank and/or anchor your average city work day. Assuming an 8- or 10-hour stretch in an office and an early enough start to take care of some of said errands before work, what might this amount to?
1. Dropping clothes off at the same-day dry cleaners to be picked up on your lunch hour.
2. Picking up a tray of sushi for lunch at your desk.
3. Filling the gas tank.
During your lunch hour, pre- or post-sushi:
4. Depositing a few cheques at your bank.
5. Picking up your rush dry cleaning.
And after work, perhaps:
6. Meeting your spouse or partner at a local car dealership to check out hybrid models to replace your choking, early 90's relic.
7. Stopping at the organic grocery to pick up some wild salmon and local vegetables for dinner.
Sound reasonable? These are errands I and lots of others have crammed into one day, before, during and after work, out of necessity. It looks insane to me now, considering that a full, gruelling workday is included, but this is what life was like for a long time.
What if I told you that there's not a single one of these tasks that can be accomplished in this town, other than filling the tank? And if you have ambitions to, say, head out after work to shop for an outfit for your cousin's wedding next month, you'll be buying a plane ticket to the coast in order to do it. Or spending lots of time online and hoping the thing actually resembles its photos and measurements when it arrives.