Certain Friendship / Unrequited Love
I’ll always remember the first time I saw a palm tree.
It was in the South of the state of Georgia, or perhaps north Florida. My family was on a summer vacation to Orlando to visit Disney. I was maybe 10 or so, and I was excited. We drove down from Ontario to Florida, making the journey a part of the trip. We had to make a stop at a gas station somewhere in the south with several hours to go. And that’s where I saw my first palm tree.
Since then, I’ve seen many palm trees — mostly in the United States. I’ve visited sixteen states that I’ve spend a day in, give or take, and passed through a couple more. I have visited the three largest cities, New York City, Los Angeles, and Chicago. It’s always something I enjoy when I go to more southernly locations in the US, a reminder that I’m somewhere warm. Generally, warm is how I describe my relationship with the United States. As a Canadian citizen, born here and never lived anywhere else, visting the US is like visiting a friend for a good time. Not the closest friend, but a dear one. One with his problems, but almost always a great time whether for business or pleasure.
Driving along interstate highways on summer vacations was one of the two ways I first experienced the US. We went to mostly beachy locations such as Florida, Virgina Beach, and Wildwood, New Jersey. We also went to Pigeon Forge, Tennessee which is home to the beloved Dollywood, an amusement park owned and themed around the iconic Dolly Parton. I loved it as a kid. Nestled in the Smoky Mountains and treed surroundings of Tennessee, it is also a naurally spectacular place to visit. Even as a grown adult, I still consider going back to experience it.
Summer vacations weren’t my only early exposure to the United States. My mother would sometimes take me and my siblings on day trips to Buffalo, New York. Mostly for shopping trips and the accompanying dinners at restaurants we did not have back home. Walmart was a particularly good stop, with bigger stores and in some cases the ability to change currencies cheaply. I still remember being a young lad and waiting for my mother behind the checkout in front of a wall of tobacco products. If I wanted to pick out some chewing tobacco or a carton of king sized cigarettes, the world was my oyster. This was not something we had back in Canada.
These trips showed me the pure joy of visiting supermarkets in the States. They had more diverse and exotic snacks, machines that sold scratch lottery tickets, and all sorts of other things. As I got older, I learned that you could buy beer and booze sometimes at grocery stores. I’ve come to appreciate that every state has some special approach to selling liquor, a great metaphor for the rich tapestry of each state’s own culture and foibles.
Becoming an adult, I’ve had the privilege of going to the United States not just for fun but for professional reasons. This meant not just driving in a car across the border but flying. This opened up new horizons for me and exposed me to new quirks of the American experience. This included “going West” for the first time, visiting San Fransisco, California. Stepping off the BART train and riding an escalator up to Market street and seeing a Pride flag hanging off a building on Market Street was a moment I’ll never forget. Over time I would also see Los Angeles (which is an incredible place) and Seattle (briefly for two nights). Working with Americans also allowed me to get to know folks south of the border, as colleagues and friends. Of course we had our differences and culture shock certainly exists, but I also had some warm interactions with people from all over the US. For the record: Southern hospitality is definitely real.
I still look forward to seeing more the United States. I’ve never been to New Mexico, and would love to visit there someday. Despite its travails, the USA is a wonderful, big (and at times ludicrous) place, one that still warms me up like that day I saw a palm tree off the highway.
