Goodbye, Michigan. Love, Brian

Brian A. Gnatt Daily Arts Editor

What a long, strange trip it's been, Michigan.

Little did I know when I made my decision to spend four years at the University that I would be forced to go through such a traumatic culture shock. Well, maybe not traumatic, but a definite culture shock.

Call me an East Coast snob, because that's what I am and I'm damn proud of it. Michiganders and Midwesterners -believe it or not, you're different. (Suburban Detroiters, you may be somewhat of an exception, but not completely absolved.)

The first time I noticed it was at orientation. I told someone I was going to get a soda from the machine, and was met with that blank stare.

"A what?"

"A soda," I replied.

"A what?"

"A soda."

At this point, I was wondering what was wrong with this person. I knew I would meet some people in college that weren't the most worldly of people, but who hasn't heard of Coke?

"You know, from the Coke machine," I said. That's when it hit her.

"Oh, you mean a pop."

No, we're not going down to the malt shop with Betsy-Lee to get a pop. I want a goddamn soda. I've had the debate countless times, and Michigan people never seem to realize they're wrong. It's soda. Go anywhere outside the Midwest and try asking for a pop, and they'll go, "huh?" just like I did. And with my first "pop," my Michigan culture shock began.

Since then, there have been countless incidents, many I've tried to forget. One of the most memorable happened during my first semester of classes at Michigan. As a "first-year student," I quickly realized how politically correct the University community was. At first, I thought that was a wonderful thing. Everyone made an effort to be tolerant of each other, something I hadn't ever thought much about previously because I always had white friends, as well as black, Asian, Indian and Latino friends. But after a short while, I was able to see through Michigan and its political correct bullshit.

It was in an English class one day that a fellow classmate told us she had never seen a black person until she came to the University. Huh? "But I had seen them on TV," she said.

Surprisingly, her experience wasn't all that uncommon. After having political correctness shoved down my throat for a few months, I began to realize the people who were out there preaching for us to open our minds to different races were the people who had never seen black people before they came to the University. These people had never had Latino friends, Asian friends, or any friends who weren't white. Now, they had discovered a false sense of diversity, and decided to force their classroom-taught ethnicity down my throat.

Then there's the people who think Michigan is the center of the universe. I mean, really, why would you ever have to leave such an exciting and near-tropical place?

"I've been to Ohio before, to visit my cousins," someone at orientation told me. Even my former suburban Detroit roommate counted all the new states he visited as we drove to my suburban Washington, D.C. home on spring break a few years back.

And just last weekend, I was again accused of being an East Coast snob for saying Michigan is in the middle of nowhere.

"Michigan is so close to everything," was the response. "We're only four hours from Chicago and six from Toronto. You East Coast people always want everything your way, right away, don't you? My family drove to South Carolina to eat seafood once." Yeah, you're right. I'm hungry for pizza. Let's go to Chicago.

Worst of all about Michigan is the way the locals drive. I can't seem to figure out why you don't have to take an on-the-road driving test to get a driver's license in Michigan. It's only that people here can't drive, they can't park either. Michigander's method of parallel parking is quite bizarre to me. I've seen it numerous times: to pull out of a space, you don't go in reverse until you hit the car in back of you and then pull forward until you hit that car. You aren't supposed to touch the other cars, dumbasses! On another note, when driving through an intersection with traffic stopped on the other side, don't block the street so people trying to turn can't get through.

On a more positive note, one major difference between Michigan (and other parts of the Midwest) and the rest of the world is a store called Meijer. I have found Meijer to be the most wonderful thing in Michigan, and the one thing I wish I could take home with me. At first visit, I admit I didn't appreciate the true value of a store like Meijer - a store open 24 hours, 7 days a week that sells everything on Earth except vehicles, computers and pornography.

You see, Meijer isn't just a store - Meijer is also entertainment. Meijer provides hours and hours of fun under the fluorescents at all times of the day. Where else can you can buy a gerbil, tubing and KY jelly at 2 a.m.? Or even shotgun shells, a fifth of Popov, matzah ball soup and a Ted Nugent CD in the middle of the night?

I've come to believe most Michiganders don't appreciate all Meijer has to offer. They've grown up with the store, had it destroy all of the smaller stores that used to thrive in the area, and maybe they've even worked for the big M. But for an outsider, Meijer offers something that nothing else in Ann Arbor can - 24 hours of fun.

Looking over the winners from this year's Best of Ann Arbor poll, I see lots of categories and lots of different stores. Meijer, on the other hand, could have taken the cake in almost every category. Here are some of my favorites: best place for folks to take you, best romantic evening, best records (as long as Conway Twitty and Bob Seger are some of your favorites), best men's and women's clothing (quite trendy actually), best books (the latest romance novels), best place to go when in an altered state, best place to meet a mate (sexy cashiers and locals), best excuse for cutting class (what professor wouldn't understand?), best place for people watching, best campus tradition, best slang (meijering, or to Meijer), best haircut (Ypsilanti Meijer), best sporting goods, and of course, best groceries.

I'll miss Meijer. I'll miss all the wackos in Ann Arbor, and I'll even miss all of Michigan's stupid nuances. I'll miss the occasional beautiful spring day, Mr. Rib, and some of the more sane people in this town. But most of all, I won't miss bitching and moaning about Michigan and the Midwest because this is the end Michigan, and I'm outta here.

- E-mail Brian at bgnatt@umich.edu

04-17-97