And so the yellow face of the warning sign snarles a caveat into the 21-year-old face. My face . . . that once enjoyed the jeers and mockery of Idahoans. But, somehow, I spent the entire summer praising these "gem state" natives. Let me give you an example of a true Idahoan: Driving down the highway on your way to Pocatello from Idaho Falls, you realize that you are out of gas. As your car putters to a stop, you realize that your phone is dead, it's the middle of winter and you don't have a coat. Shoot. You decide to wait for a car to flag down. After 3-5 minutes, a car drives by. Just as you raise your arm, it speeds past and you think, "That's odd. I'm in Idaho. I've heard such wonderful things about Idahoans and they didn't even look!". Then, you see it. The blurred license plate just as it zooms around the corner: "CALIFORNIA" it screams in your face. A few minutes later, another car comes. This time it's a large, blue, diesel truck. A man stops and gets out, "Hi there, friend. You outta gas? Can I help?" You mumble a "thank you" as you hop into his warm truck. He takes you to the gas station, insists on buying you a tank and dinner and even gives you the coat off of his back as you shudder outside your car as he fills up your tank. Too good to be true? Just read the Ensign. There has to be a story in there that matches in the past 10 years.
10.21.2005
Warning Sign
And so the yellow face of the warning sign snarles a caveat into the 21-year-old face. My face . . . that once enjoyed the jeers and mockery of Idahoans. But, somehow, I spent the entire summer praising these "gem state" natives. Let me give you an example of a true Idahoan: Driving down the highway on your way to Pocatello from Idaho Falls, you realize that you are out of gas. As your car putters to a stop, you realize that your phone is dead, it's the middle of winter and you don't have a coat. Shoot. You decide to wait for a car to flag down. After 3-5 minutes, a car drives by. Just as you raise your arm, it speeds past and you think, "That's odd. I'm in Idaho. I've heard such wonderful things about Idahoans and they didn't even look!". Then, you see it. The blurred license plate just as it zooms around the corner: "CALIFORNIA" it screams in your face. A few minutes later, another car comes. This time it's a large, blue, diesel truck. A man stops and gets out, "Hi there, friend. You outta gas? Can I help?" You mumble a "thank you" as you hop into his warm truck. He takes you to the gas station, insists on buying you a tank and dinner and even gives you the coat off of his back as you shudder outside your car as he fills up your tank. Too good to be true? Just read the Ensign. There has to be a story in there that matches in the past 10 years.
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Lizzy, that is where I'm from, remember?! I was born in Blackfoot which is "somewhere between Idaho Falls and Pocatello." I'm so glad my fellow gem staters didn't let you down. Let's face it, I'm probably related to most of them!
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