A Very Minor Prophet: A Novel by James Bernard Frost
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
I’ve long been a fan of Portland, and made it no secret that I’d very much like to live there.
The first time I went there, maybe 2006(?), the city felt, to me, like the city in this book. Really weird, really great, and somewhere you could just sort of stumble into this weirdness.
I think it still feels like that. Somewhat. I don’t live there, but I’ve been 4 or 5 times since, and every time I go, I find a different reason to love it.
Also, this book is by Hawthorne, and I have to say, EVERY title I’ve read from Hawthorne, I’ve liked quite a bit. This is a publisher that’s doing what I would love other publishers to do, which is being distinctive and choosy in what they publish, and therefore I can just look through what they’ve got and make my picks from their catalog. I don’t know many other publishers where I can say that. It’s not like Random House can do that for me, or even Anchor Books anymore. I quite liked Dennis Cooper’s Little House On The Bowery. But Hawthorne is the only one, for me, where I could honestly say, “If you want to buy me a book, buy me one I haven’t read from Hawthorne, and chances are it’ll be pretty damn good.”
This particular book has a very early-2000’s thing going, and it’s good, but it made me wish I’d read it in 2007. I would have fucking loved this book so hard in 2007.
Anyway, Portland.
I’m planning a move. Sorry, Portland. I know you’re sick of people moving there and making the rent high and stuff. If it makes you feel better, I don’t have a lot of money, but I do work. And Colorado is kind of the OG state that people have been fleeing to since the early 90’s. Back then, half the people you met were from California. Now you get people from all the fuck over. And it’s awesome, but there’s also a lot of hassle. I get that.
Here in Colorado, there’s this bumper sticker people put on their cars. Trucks, I should say. It has the background from Colorado license plates, those green mountains, and it has the word NATIVE emblazoned across it.
There’s the obvious joke there. Most of the people who have that sticker look a little pale to be original native inhabitants of the area.
But what’s really stupid about it, to me, is that people are so proud of something they had nothing to do with. Your parents fucked in Colorado and never left. Wow. Definitely worth buying a sticker for. In fact, maybe we should all get stickers that say where our parents fucked. All the places. If your parents fucked and vacationed a lot, you’re going to need one of those RV maps of the US with the outlines of different states. And just set up a system where your parents can text you the name of a state, and you buy the stickers. No further questions needed.
I guess I always thought it meant more for someone to pick a place to live. To make a choice. To check some places out and say, “This. This feels right to me.”
That’s what I did.
The good news is that leaves open a NATIVE spot. I’ll be taking applications for my replacement. Just know that if you moved here because weed is legal, your application will be rejected. Also if you show up in a Broncos jersey. And if most of your daily clothing choices are Hiking Casual, you need not apply, thanks.
I think I’ve already talked quite a bit about what I like about Portland. But should I share what I don’t like about Colorado?
Transportation is fucked.
Seriously. There’s basically 1 interstate the entire state uses, and it’s jammed every day. 1 accident fucks up the whole thing. And there are no alternatives. It’s not super bike-friendly, although it’s improving, and the buses suck, and the trains are almost non-existent. You cannot get by here without a car. It’s just not possible, and I don’t like that.
2. It’s Pretty Expensive.
People have asked about the plans for my move. There’s this really nifty map (http://taxfoundation.org/blog/real-va…) that tells you how far $100 bucks goes in different spots. You can even break it down by metropolitan area, and in simple terms, a hundred bucks is worth about $102 in the place where I live, $99 in Portland. $3 out of every $100. That seems well worth it to make the switch, especially considering that I’d be moving form a suburban area to a city. If you’re curious, North Dakota, Nebraska, Missouri and Mississippi (all non-metropolitan) seem to be the spots where a buck goes the furthest. I have no strong desire for those spots.
3. The fucking sun.
I’m over the sun. I don’t get it. I don’t get the big appeal. It’s nice, but it’s not nice EVERY FUCKING DAY. You’d think that, when the sun’s gone for a day here, people were like reverse vampires who need the sun to live. Denver has like 30-40 overcast days per year. It’s sunnier than Florida. And by the way, we’re a mile closer to the sun, which you would think makes no difference, but it’s a HUGE difference. The sun sucks. Screw the sun. You get burned bad here, the sun makes it impossible to know what the fuck temperature it is outside, and when the sun is gone for like half a day, the amount of bitching is unbearable. In short: Where is my Mr. Burns and why hasn’t he blocked out the sun yet?
4. People like guns too much here.
I know it’s worse elsewhere. But I’m done with this guns nonsense. Colorado isn’t a super population-dense state, and yet we’re home to Columbine, the Aurora Theater Shooting, and recently the Planned Parenthood shooting. And still, people love telling you about how important guns and the 2nd amendment are. Fuck off.
5. Powell’s Rules, Tattered Cover Drools
I loved you, TC, but nothing compares. And that LoDo store feels like it’s shrinking WHILE I’m inside it, like it’s that hallway from Willy Wonka.
6. Rural cops and city cops are jerks in totally different ways, and we get to experience both at their worst.
7. I don’t ski. I used to. But that shit’s for rich people. Damn, a 1-day lift ticket in Vail is $130 bucks. Then I rent skis and boots for $50. Then I spend about 5 hours on the road, minimum, if there’s no traffic. And there’s always traffic. Then you pay to park. Then you eat a gas station sandwich that costs three times what it should. I mean, that’s like a $250 day right there, per person, and you spent 5 hours in traffic for the privilege. You could fly to another city and spend the night for that hassle.
8. Boulder isn’t cool. I’m sorry, it’s not. I’ve never seen such a naked display of attention-seeking as I have walking down Pearl Street in Boulder. I’ve never seen such a stark example of rich kids trying to look cool. It’s gross. If you’ve ever wanted to see the corpse of the dream of the hippie movement, Boulder, Colorado is where people go to piss on the ashes and drape them in a Bob Marley fabric poster.
9. Seriously, with the lifted trucks that roll coal and have nothing in the bed.
10. My parents fucked here minimum once, maximum infinity times. I, for one, choose to distance myself from that as opposed to marking the occasion(s) with a sticker.