Mother Tongue

This picture was on sfgate.com's DIP a few weeks ago. I immediately recognized the Tulsa skyline and felt appropriately proud of my mother city suburb. As my brother-in-law says, Leah and I can poke all the fun we want at Tulsa's, um, conservative tendancies (I'm fluent in English and red-neck) but we will not tollerate others making fun of our birthplace. However, I've learned more about Oklahoma while living in Nebraska.

When I worked in the architecture library my boss* would always tell me to say hi to the Flaming Lips when I went home to visit. Oddly, he was the one who introduced me to Okie Noodling, a sport that involves catching catfish with your bare hands. And then there was the professor I had who had taught at OU. He would talk to me about how strange it is that Oklahoma is a divided state; there is the state of Tulsa, and then there is the rest Oklahoma (I had never realized that the Tulsa State Fair was an anomaly). The day I wore new sneakers he pointed them out to the whole class and added that he knew where I bought them. "The mall with the carpet and the giant movie theater! I know the guy who designed the theater." I agreeded because the whole class was turned toward me and smiling and nodding was usually an effective way to deal with his theatrics.

Now, dear sweet Tulsa, I move farther away from you.




*He looked like Elvis Costello and when he learned we lived in the same neighborhood he told me never to drop by his house because the only thing he did in the evenings was sit around naked smoking cigarettes. He also hired a girl because she wore a Metalica shirt to her interview. Who knows why he hired me, but I do know that someone else got fired from the library for an offence I committed every Tuesday and Thursday morning (arriving late, or not even at all) until he switched me to the closing shift...Stories from the library is really another post for another time, sorry kids.