Thursday, August 21, 2025

Settling In Jitters


This is a  long one. Settle in.
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WHERE HAVE I BEEN 

I have been  unpacking. 

No shit, 5:AM to 9:PM unpacking and rearranging and organizing and sorting and boxing and un-boxing and FUCK.
It is a miracle I'm still married. 

Going from 'Well, we probably just said goodbye to everything we own' to 'HOLY CRAP HERE IT IS' was a literal shock to the system. Fortunately, the two young men who arrived with the vanload were competent and professional - unlike their parent company - and our stuff was off the truck in less than an hour.
But then, of  course, there it all was.

We lost three pieces - an end table, a desk, and a lamp, completely destroyed. Insurance?  Why no. Any understanding of how cargo and transport actually operates?  Oh Heavens no. Not us. Our shit moved from warehouse to warehouse all up and down the West Coast before it was tracked down and delivered. We went in ignorant, looking for a bargain, and got jacked up and jacked around. So it goes.

But the important things were untouched, and life can go forward now, and of course that's what matters.  That and finding the asshole who crushed the desk my father-in-law built when he was in college and breaking his fingers. 
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SO! WHAT IS IDAHO LIKE?

THERE IS A LOT OF ASS IN IDAHO.

When you are in Idaho, you will see a lot of ass.  And it is bare-naked adult ass that you will see.  And it is not the kind of  bare-naked ass that you might see at Mr. Peenee's place, with firm, downy glutes like billlows on the ocean.  No. Not like that at all.  Idaho ass is like 200 lbs of blue cheese stuffed into a pair of nylons, and it has sweaty hair allllllll over it. 
 
I have never seen so much casually displayed ass in my life and I grew up in the 1970s.  This is not plumbers crack I'm talking about. Stop insisting that it is because it's not. Stop it. This is whole ass. The WHOLE entirety of the ass.  Bare, bare ass being revealed like Esther Williams arising from the waters in Million Dollar Mermaid; inevitably, deliberately, coming out to play from ankles to tits as our man or woman bends over, and you wish I were exaggerating but sadly I am not.  You can be in the grocery store, or the hardware store, or even casually waiting at a stoplight listening to some Robin Trower on your Sirius Radio and OH DAMN there it is, bending over on the side of the road and that ass is big, man, and it is damp and it is white, and that asscrack is HOO BOY AND THE LIGHT CHANGES 

Sneak Attack Crack, is what it is.  Damn, Idaho. Buy some suspenders.

Speaking of things you didn't ask to see, there is a fashion here among some of the post-Juggalo set where you pack yourself into a pastel tube of stretchy material meant for a much smaller and shapelier woman and then go out among your fellow beings with every crease, curl and wrinkle on casual display depending on the angle of the sun.  Always women with Hatchet Man tattoos, and always built like a stack of rubber pumpkins.  It can be really...it can be...
it's sort of...
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POLITE AND KINDLY

The VAST and OVERWHELMING majority of the people we have met and dealt with here have been fantastic. And normal.  Not one single word about politics or religion, no attitudes, no weirdness at all. I truly mean that. We have been able to get established without a single hitch and it's thanks to the lovely people who assisted us at the DMV, the phone company, the real estate agency and others.

Just out in public there is a level of polite behavior going on that I haven't seen in a few decades. One thing that's been catching me up is the 'ladies first' mindset. Oh yes!  Here, ladies go first. Particularly old ladies, and those of us who resemble them.  Even in traffic!  Like even an uncontrolled 4 - way out in the middle of noplace, you get motioned through!  I had to take a second, but I finally worked it out, duh.  OK. Don't mind if I do. 
 
Little kids will get the door for you, and they smile at you and say 'Hi!' on the street. People offer to help you load groceries, and they mean it. Men and boys keep doing that little 'howdy ma'am' nod of the head at me if they happen to catch my eye in passing; and that one stopped me a few times. But it's a real thing out here. And that odd formal way that men talk to women in Westerns?  That's a real thing too. 

Everybody wants to chat.  Chat is expected, too.  I am not always in a chatty mood, so this has been an adjustment. I have a stock of inane observations now that I toss out whenever I'm at a loss.  I smile so much my teeth dry out. Suddenly out of my distant past has come bubbling up all of these polite mannerisms and figures of speech, and hey, if it gets me through the day, who does it hurt?  I want to be a good neighbor. 

-thing is, I also want to go out in my damn Queen T-shirt and not get peered at like I'm swinging a dick inside these shorts. Good Lord people. 
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PARANOIA

OK fine. Do I sound paranoid? Do you catch that thread?  Because I am. I am paranoid.  This is a whole different world here. A completely different world. I had no idea how different the culture would be.  Shit, moving from Sumas to Bellingham was kind of a culture shock; this? is WILD.  The desert, the climate, history, mindset...it's cut off, it's remote...
...shit, if the cities fall and the lights go out, I'll be stuck on the side of the river with all the Fundamentalists. 
HELP.
Which leads me this next observation -
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I HAD NO IDEA HOW FUCKING BIG AMERICA ACTUALLY IS

Or how small the towns are in Idaho.

You see a map of the Northwest, and you look at Idaho, and there's the major cities, and all the highways marked out, and you think of it as being like what you're used to in terms of size. A major city is going to be like, say, Seattle or Portland.   You're going to go through a lot of settled area, suburbs, farms, shit like that, going from town to town.
No.
What you go through in Idaho is a lot of NOTHING.
Not even farms. 
What you drive through just getting to Idaho, from Washington and through Oregon, is also NOTHING.
Lots and lots of nothing.
No farms, no houses, for hundreds of miles.
Mountains. Prairies.
Hills.
Absolutely nothing at all.
Cross over to the East of the Cascade range and you hit what most of the American Landmass is like.
It's a lot of nothing.
The majority of the towns? Very small. Three blocks. A bend in the road. Shit, a place with a row of mailboxes next to a lone tree.
And nothing.

The town of Ontario Oregon is surrounded by NOTHING. 
You drive up through nothing, and suddenly there is a town.
It looks big on the map. You expect at least, say, a town the size of Bellingham. But no.  It's a place at a bend in the river where people have been living since the Stone Age, and it's the size of, say, Lynden WA. And I mean a very sparse, scattered Lynden.  With goats. 
Sagebrush, Rocks. Dust.

The Snake River is the boundary between Oregon and Idaho.  It's an OK sized river. Like the Upper Willamette. Very deep and swift and full of fish striking the surface.
Here on the other side is Fruitland.  Looks fairly big on the map.
It is not.
It's smaller than Sumas was, and again - a very scattered, sparse Sumas after the Apocalypse. Few trees. Little grass.
  And one mile to the east, there's absolutely NOTHING.
You can generalize it thus:  in a strip running north to south along the Snake river, from Weiser to Nyssa, there is roughly a two-mile wide strip of...something, with large trees and greeen grass and nice little h houses, to the East of which is absolutely NOTHING.
And there's patches all along that roughly thirty mile stretch that are absolutely NOTHING as well. 
Just scrubland. Maybe a cell tower.
As you drive down the highway, you look to the West, and you see, across the river, ABSOLUTELY NOTHING, Oregon.
Nothing.
Rolling hills.
Open rangeland.
Sagebrush.
Tan grass.
Rocks.
Lotta sky out there.

The small towns you come across, the ones you see marked on the map, are half-dead little places the size of Everson-Nooksack, if that, surrounded by NOTHING.

It explains an awful lot about the local character of the people, how isolated still, to this day, these small communities really are.
Shit.
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I have done my driving and asking around, and I have done my research online.  remember how I used to bitch about Lynden Washington?  Too many churches, not enough thinking?

Oh honey.  OH HONEY.  Here in Idaho EVERYWHERE is like that.  Every religion represented here is the most extreme, or conservative, iteration of that religion. Idahoans like their religion on the controversial side, it seems.

The town of Fruitland where I live is just nine planned blocks surrounded by some meandering country properties, so say two miles long and a mile wide, this little area.  We have no supermarket.
We do have:
A huge, expensive, private 'spiritually centered' grade school just down the block
The Calvary Church
Corpus Christi Catholic Church
The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints
Fruitland Church of Christ
Highway Worship Center Revival
West Valley Free Methodist Church
Fruitland United Methodist
The Church of the Brethren
These are big churches.  Lots of people attend them.  Friday, Saturday and Sundays here are really quiet.  Sometimes you even see people in modest garb and Plain Dress going to and fro. 

 This is a thing that Idaho is known for:  extreme, extreme religious views.  And open carry, which is so normal here you don't see it unless someone's actually packing a rifle (really. Seriously.)  Maybe it all settles out like this:  folks have to maintain a polite, publicly civil demeanor, with all these sharp doctrinal differences between them, or else an instant bloodbath takes place.  I dunno. They're certainly all packed up for something.

So rather than relaxing into a state of blissful new citizenship, I am waiting for that other shoe to drop.  I know me, and I know my mouth, and I know that other damn shoe is gonna fall.

Another thing that I am very aware of here:  This is a mans world in Idaho. There are expectations of behavior in place for a woman my age, and on my best behavior I barely meet the minimum standard.  The Biker says he's never known me to go so long without at least one 'motherfucker' in the wind, and he's right. Some primal survival instinct has come into play. I don't even have to think about it. I just don't swear in public now.

Now cross the river here and go into Oregon and I'm back home. Casual bad language is everyday.   A distance of 3.6 miles and a world of change, man. It's the reason we moved here, to take advantage of this border economy. No taxes on goods in Oregon. But yeah, you can go down the road three miles to the town of Ontario Oregon and get an abortion, a bag of pot, say 'fuck' in public and wear your favorite 'Queen' t-shirt with nobody worrying about whether you stand up to pee. Ontario functions out here like a combination head shop - remote crossroad trading center in the Gobi Desert, while the Idaho side is the ...I don't know what the Idaho side is. The side where most of the people who do business across the river in Oregon come from, I guess.
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So far this is my take on this whole area. Most folks are friendly and fairly heavily tattooed. Mexican culture is very integrated into the scene. A lot of recent, new investment has taken place along this stretch of Idaho and the area feels like it's waiting for 'something' to happen...what, I don't know. It's prosperous here. There's  jobs; and in fact we saw many signs of prosperity as we travelled. New businesses, new cars, new development everywhere. Wineries, orchards, vast fields of mint! of all things. Onions of course. Brussels sprouts, grain and lawn-grass seed crops. Big new warehouses and farm equipment, lots of trucks on the road. Very little squalor. I mean very little.  New road work being done.

Not at all what either of us had expected. Not even close.
 Talk about a leap into the unknown. Shit.

Tuesday, August 5, 2025

Making A Silk Cow Out Of A Cars Ear

 IDAHO SO FAR:


People here are unfailingly nice, polite and helpful.  I mean like 1950's small town America polite and helpful. Please and thank you, excuse me, do you need help with that, let me get that door for you. 

There's some MAGA stuff., but nowhere near what I'd expected to see. There's one MAGA barbershop and two MAGA houses, one here and one in Payette. A couple of bumper stickers. Some lingering 'fuck Biden' sentiment. I expected WAY more idiocy. Shit, Lynden WA has more MAGA stuff. Even Bellingham had more, and it's liberal. Also, no open carry.  At all. It's legal here, you just don't see it. You sure in shit saw it in Bellingham.  As they say in America, 'Wow'.

Even though religion is very very very very very big here, not one single person has mentioned it. Not even at the super hard-shell Baptist Separatists separatist primary school thrift sale, and those women and their daughters were in full modesty garb. Not. A. Word.

The Mormons are big here.  They have their own bank, they live out in the hills in fenced compounds comprised of huge McMansions, and the white SUV's with the blacked-out windows patrol the streets in the evening.  Around the corner is a Brethren church (look it up Paco, you're sitting in front of the internet) and the Patriarch and his wife, both elderly, both in Plain Dress, have taken a long, slow stroll past to peek in and see what's up.  Six blocks down is the Roadside Worship Revival church, which I'm assuming is some kind of Pentecostal set-up. Having had my fill of Ecstatic Religiosity, I intend to give their happy asses a wide berth.  Two different Catholic organizations (one from Oregon, one from Idaho) compete for those who don't have enough guilt in their lives.  Three blocks down is a Methodist church that I have yet to look into. Traditionally, Methodists have been LGBT friendly, but who knows what the fucks' up with these Idaho people.

...ooooh!  Nations is gonna sell out! Well shit yes I intend to sell out. A bitch is new in town and I want to meet people. A nice, low-key communion out this way might be just the thing. I mean come on people, trust me, I'm gonna do my research. And it's not like I'm going to rock up in a Borsalino smoking a Petit Nobel and put my feet up on the seats. 

OK maybe at the Brethren's. 

The price of living is really, really low here in Idaho ,and it's even lower three miles away in Ontario Oregon (which is where everyone shops and buys legal marijuana to take back across the Idaho line and into the waiting arms of the police.)  We've been able to assemble a nice little makeshift household for about 300.00 - and that includes all the absolute basics, like beds and sheets and a coffee maker and soap ffs.  And groceries. Now that we're actually living in our apartment instead of a motel room, the flow of blood money going out is down to a trickle. Which is a damn relief.

The area we've moved to is called Fruitland because of all the gay people who live and work here in social harmony with the rest of the residents of this humble rural garden spot 

...in the early days this was allllllllll fruit trees. Nowadays trees are out and root crops are in, chief among them onions. 


The onions are being harvested now. This entire town smells overwhelmingly of onions. It has for the past month. It does now. It smells like onions 24/7 - except when it smells like the decomposing onion gravy left in the beds of all the trucks and railcars. 

Strongly.  Nay, violently.

The local joke is 'Oh you get used to it after awhile and you just think 'Oh! Onion rings! *Tee hee!* 

- except no. That does not happen. Honestly WTF. Nobody is looking up suddenly from their mundane tasks going 'Why I do believe I smells onion rings, senor!' 

The good thing about this is, if you happen to be low on onions, just stand on the corner of 16th and Whitley (also known as Gayway Corners) and hold a sack open. The gutters are full of onions! They send out road trains full of onions from this place - three trailers long!  Who is eating all these goddamn onions????

We are in the sagebrush steppe region of Idaho.  It's generally hot and very dry, but here at the confluence of three rivers it's extremely green down along the water's edge and extending about a block inland. After that you need a little irrigation to get things rocking - and holy SHIT does it pay off. This is astounding growing country!  Folks here, when they can be bothered to try, have incredible gardens.  But as you drive through town you'll notice an interesting thing -You'll have a street lined with glorious Victorian homes and gardens, say, but one property in the row is neglected - and it will have reverted entirely back to bare gravel, sandspurs and sagebrush. It looks artificial, like one person decided to go all 'Boot Hill' with their property., but no, that is not the case. You can easily tell who in your neighborhood is a lazy chunk of fuck.

This is Louis L'Amour's' Old West.  It looks exactly like every cowboy movie you've ever seen, except 'Midnight Cowboy'. There are buzzards and wagon wheels and horses and outhouses and tin shacks; horses everywhere, miles and miles of rolling grassland and round brown hills. There really are deer and antelope playing out there. Of course the ones I saw were splattered all over the highway, so not playing. Playtime was done. Still, you got real cowboys, real sheepherders, real farmers and an entire local culture based on generations of rural life.  I never knew there was such a mindset. Some of these folks grew up with no electricity and no indoor plumbing - not because they were poor, but because they were remote.  

If you took the aroma of all the car air fresheners, all the punk aftershave, all the cheap deodorant and all the bargain laundry soap in America and mixed it in a huge vat, it would smell like every single indoor space in Central Idaho.  This smell is following us around. From outdoor garage sales to the offices of the local telephone company, from McDonalds to El Cameron Mexican Restaurant, you  smell this smell. Our apartment smells like it - I've been cleaning frantically trying to get rid of this smell. I got up at 3:00 AM two days ago and damp mopped the whole place, trying to get rid of it. It is wretched! It gets into your clothes and hair! Tomorrow  we're going to be visiting one of the pot shops over on the Oregon side to see if they have any hardcore incense we can burn! 

Honestly just incense. The cops on this side would pull our out of state plates over in a FLASH if we brought over any dank.

I like it here so far. Not the hot weather. The hot weather blows. That, I hate. But everything else is pretty good.  

Of  course, 

I'D LIKE IT A LOT BETTER IF I HAD MY GODDAMN STUFF.

Saturday, August 2, 2025

And you may ask

 Well?  How did I get here?

And I would answer myself 'in a black car, with malfunctioning air conditioning, during the hottest part of the year.'

And I would be right.

Let's skip the preliminary eight day visit, and the to-ing and fro-ing between Washington and Idaho in a black car with NO AIR CONDITIONING.  And let's skip driving all over the Idaho panhandle in that same car looking at apartments.

Let's skip that.

Let's go right to the part where arrived at our motel room only to find that not only was our entire house full of belongings NOT there to greet us, "...it might not be there until next week. It's impossible to say."

That was last Thursday.