Credit: KTVO
When I moved to Sioux City, Iowa from the beaches of California in the late 70’s I thought I was going to be God’s gift to Iowans on how to be cool. Then when I arrived, I found out that Iowans were the most laid-back people I had ever met.
For instance, they ‘visited.’ They would be running an errand and, on an impulse, just swing by a friend’s house, walk right passed where their friend was reading in a chair on the screened in porch, through the open front door, help themselves to a bottle of beer from the refrigerator, plop down on the front porch swing, and chat. Or not. Silent rocking was always an option. When you are being serenaded by cicadas, no conversation is necessary. No rushing to get someplace and do something. No FOMO, because this was Iowa, there was nothing to miss, they just enjoyed the company.
I learned to live at a walk.
Ottumwa, Iowa showing its best angle.
And when I returned from the Caribbean and moved into small-town Ottumwa, my Sioux City pace slowed from a walk to a stroll. And I am sure that every aspect of life in Ottumwa that I found charming was exactly what made young people from that town so desperate to leave, to run off to a big city like Chicago where things were jumping. I had had my fill of jumping; I was just happy with ambling along.
Downtown Ottumwa, rush hour.
Parking meters
Iowa license plates included the name of the county where they were issued and since I originally got my plates in Sioux City, my plates indicated I came from Woodbury County. Residents of Ottumwa had plates that said Wapello County. When I moved to Ottumwa and would park at a meter and my quarter’s worth of time would run out after an hour, instead of getting a parking ticket I would get a little green slip of paper under my windshield wiper with a smiling cowboy saying, “Howdy Stranger!” The note went on to politely ask that I please keep money in the meter because it was an important source of revenue and it also helped keep spaces available for shoppers coming in to town to help local businesses.
Well, howdy back at ya, Ottumwa!
The Small Town Wave. I had a lot to learn about living in a rural state,. As you rode around town, or especially when you were driving on a two-lane road between towns, you didn’t encounter a lot of traffic. But when you were passing someone going the other direction, common courtesy required the one finger wave. Just the index finger, casually lifted from the steering wheel.
When I first arrived in Iowa and was driving along, I would respond to one finger being lifted from the steering wheel with my whole hand waving, and the other driver would look bewildered and just shake his head. Eventually a friend clued me in, not the whole hand, doofus, just one finger.
I still find myself lifting the index finger reflexively from time to time these days, and someone in San Diego may shoot that digit off one day under the mistaken belief it’s a completely different finger.
Out for Justice 