Scads of errands took me to North Creek yesterday. I spent the first 45 minutes at Gore Mountain, familiarizing myself with the services and locations in the base lodge so that I’ll be better prepared for my first day of work at the information desk. First of all, where’s the restroom?
I met the woman who does my job five days a week. I wish I could work alongside her for a day, so that I can learn the proper procedures. Maybe I’ll suggest that to the folks who hired me.
The rest of my business took me to the heart of the village. I’m gradually acclimating to the rhythm of Adirondack shopping. Lesson #1: There is no rush. No one, neither the customers nor the salespeople, are in a hurry. Service is delivered thoroughly, methodically, and with plenty of good-humored conversation. It doesn’t matter if the line of people waiting consists of just one person or many. I need to check my Boston-oriented, top-speed, multi-tasking mindset at home. That whole ingrained sense that I have to accomplish each task in the least amount of time, a way of being that has marked my entire adult life, just runs smack into stonewalls here.
I blame Boston traffic for my time-efficiency affliction. Here’s how it goes: It took me 25 minutes to drive from Canton to Newton Centre when I was 32, 45 minutes at age 42, and at 52, I wouldn’t dream of making the trip between the hours of 7-10:30 am and 2:30 to 7:30 pm, Monday-Friday (forget Saturday altogether), because it takes 75 minutes to two hours. So how do/did I cope, or to put it the way it has always felt, how do I make up for all the time wasted? (Note the tell-tale use of the word wasted). Why, spend less time in the stores, size up other shoppers’ baskets to find the speediest check-out, and shop quickly! Efficiently! Drive faster and in the passing lanes! And always, but always, run across the street to save other drivers the precious 45 seconds it takes to walk across.
So here I am, in a place where none of that makes any sense. I find I am developing respect and, yes, even patience for this fact of Adirondack life. I’m enjoying the pleasantries and information exchanged while I wait, and I’m trying hard not to mind the two and a half hours that five small errands take.
So by moving here I haven't gained any time, but I never came here looking for it. I’m loving the space and the freedoms. My favorite freedom right now is that I feel liberated from the urban and suburban pressure to look fashionable, hair perfectly coifed, perfectly well-groomed. Women here dress down, and I mean down. Cords, well-worn knits and sweats, self-cut and self-styled hair, heavy-duty shoes and boots. A lot of women wear men’s clothing. Have you ever noticed that men’s flannel shirts are at least twice as thick, twice as warm as women’s? I didn’t until this fall and winter.
One day two women in stylish, longish skirts and boots, sweaters, chic haircuts, and mascara--yup, genuine mascara were sitting in Café Sarah, eating sandwiches. I was surprised at my reaction, surprised that they looked so out of place to me when in Boston metro, they wouldn't get a second glance. The only women into makeup here are the vacationers and unmarried women under 25 years old. As one of my friends here puts it, “I just hate to shop for clothes. If L.L. Bean or Land’s End doesn’t sell it, I don’t wear it.” But just in case you think my wardrobe is all cords, jeans, and cotton turtlenecks, I make sure I have a couple of stylish outfits for my trips to the big cities. Does Albany count? Yeah, I guess. Actually, I can’t wait to go! Saratoga Springs, Albany, Schenectady, and how I wish I could afford a night in New York. Later, gator.
I have waxed on about this theme long enough.
Tomorrow morning I’ll be eager to blog some Christmas spirit.
I met the woman who does my job five days a week. I wish I could work alongside her for a day, so that I can learn the proper procedures. Maybe I’ll suggest that to the folks who hired me.
The rest of my business took me to the heart of the village. I’m gradually acclimating to the rhythm of Adirondack shopping. Lesson #1: There is no rush. No one, neither the customers nor the salespeople, are in a hurry. Service is delivered thoroughly, methodically, and with plenty of good-humored conversation. It doesn’t matter if the line of people waiting consists of just one person or many. I need to check my Boston-oriented, top-speed, multi-tasking mindset at home. That whole ingrained sense that I have to accomplish each task in the least amount of time, a way of being that has marked my entire adult life, just runs smack into stonewalls here.
I blame Boston traffic for my time-efficiency affliction. Here’s how it goes: It took me 25 minutes to drive from Canton to Newton Centre when I was 32, 45 minutes at age 42, and at 52, I wouldn’t dream of making the trip between the hours of 7-10:30 am and 2:30 to 7:30 pm, Monday-Friday (forget Saturday altogether), because it takes 75 minutes to two hours. So how do/did I cope, or to put it the way it has always felt, how do I make up for all the time wasted? (Note the tell-tale use of the word wasted). Why, spend less time in the stores, size up other shoppers’ baskets to find the speediest check-out, and shop quickly! Efficiently! Drive faster and in the passing lanes! And always, but always, run across the street to save other drivers the precious 45 seconds it takes to walk across.
So here I am, in a place where none of that makes any sense. I find I am developing respect and, yes, even patience for this fact of Adirondack life. I’m enjoying the pleasantries and information exchanged while I wait, and I’m trying hard not to mind the two and a half hours that five small errands take.
So by moving here I haven't gained any time, but I never came here looking for it. I’m loving the space and the freedoms. My favorite freedom right now is that I feel liberated from the urban and suburban pressure to look fashionable, hair perfectly coifed, perfectly well-groomed. Women here dress down, and I mean down. Cords, well-worn knits and sweats, self-cut and self-styled hair, heavy-duty shoes and boots. A lot of women wear men’s clothing. Have you ever noticed that men’s flannel shirts are at least twice as thick, twice as warm as women’s? I didn’t until this fall and winter.
One day two women in stylish, longish skirts and boots, sweaters, chic haircuts, and mascara--yup, genuine mascara were sitting in Café Sarah, eating sandwiches. I was surprised at my reaction, surprised that they looked so out of place to me when in Boston metro, they wouldn't get a second glance. The only women into makeup here are the vacationers and unmarried women under 25 years old. As one of my friends here puts it, “I just hate to shop for clothes. If L.L. Bean or Land’s End doesn’t sell it, I don’t wear it.” But just in case you think my wardrobe is all cords, jeans, and cotton turtlenecks, I make sure I have a couple of stylish outfits for my trips to the big cities. Does Albany count? Yeah, I guess. Actually, I can’t wait to go! Saratoga Springs, Albany, Schenectady, and how I wish I could afford a night in New York. Later, gator.
I have waxed on about this theme long enough.
Tomorrow morning I’ll be eager to blog some Christmas spirit.
posted by Judith at 6:40 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home