Don't Believe the Hype

As of today, it's been a week since I last updated. For that let me apologize. Before you start cursing my inactivity and migrating to some other more entertaining website, let me reveal the reason for my extended hiatus. My absence can be explained largely by the fact that, for last few days, I was almost in Canada. By that, I mean to say that I was in Seattle, the metropolitan jewel of the Pacific Northwest, home to the Mariners (pronounced Marine-ers), the Stratosphere's bastard cousin, and, I've been told repeatedly, torrential and never-ending downpours.

Sure, Seattle locals will try half-heartedly to convince you that "San Francisco has more rain" or that "it never rains here, it's just overcast a lot" but, in their eyes, you can almost sense the burning desire to communicate just how damn depressing it is to tolerate grey skies most of the year. Even the travel books I reviewed prior to my trip warned in no uncertain terms of the chronic rain problem, presumably to avoid any liability which might arise from a suit for false advertising when they proclaim "Seattle is the happiest place on Earth." Wait, maybe that was Disneyland.

The only false advertising taking place so far as I can tell is the constant emphasis on Seattle's rainy climate. During my stay, the city was all clear skies, warm temperatures (upwards of 90 degress), and shinny happy people holding hands -- the latter a far cry from the depression-crazed, suicide-prone, coffee-drinking zombies I expected to encounter en masse. After all, Seattle is the birthplace of Starbucks and, accordingly, a fertile breeding ground for mac-wielding coffee shop denizens. The photographs included serve the purpose of dispelling any misconceptions and highlighting the natural beauty of the place.
















As I sit here writing these kind words about a place I've maligned for much of my life (Seattle is a rival of the Bay Area so it frequently draws my ire), I'm becoming suspicious. How could a resolute Seattle opponent be swayed to such an extent over the course of five days?

Perhaps my defection is the result of an elaborate charade put on by my host. The city isn't all that populous, so it's not inconceivable that a person situated in advertising could execute a city-wide campaign to convince a sole Californian that Seattle isn't the flood plain its made out to be by the rest of the world. What would it take honestly? A few well-placed billboards requesting uncharacteristically upbeat behavior and coffee abstinence for a week? A short speech by the mayor pertaining to my considerable coast-to-coast influence? Both sound reasonable to me.

Given the city's reputation, preventing the rain would have proved to be a more difficult task than convincing a few residents to hold off on depression-induced acts of violence for a few days. Despite the challenge, with a few well-choreographed rain dances and the input of local shaman, she might have been able to eek out enough divine favor to persuade Mother Nature to control her "natural" urges for a few days.

Whatever the cause -- conspiracy or dumb luck -- I was pleased to be treated to this version of Seattle rather than the one the city plays on television, in the movies, and in my imagination.