Life in Small Town, USA

I am adjusting to the slower pace of this place. It's very different from the cities in which I have lived for all of my life - till now. I smile patiently when I choose the slowest line in the market. (Frankly, it's more like winning the checkout line lottery when you get someone who's fast and efficient). I tell the clerk that it's not a problem that the woman in front of me needs to use two different credit cards to buy her groceries and he doesn't know how to get the cash register to, well, register... I've nowhere else to be. And for the first time since childhood, it is true. I don't have anywhere else to be.

There are no high-end stores here. The local mall is a depressing place where even the Gottschalks store couldn't stay in business. It's dotted with closed storefronts, one next to another, failed entrepreneurial attempts, killed by the economic disaster. Few people go there to shop. There's a "support the local shopkeeper" mentality here, but the local shops are mostly tired places with low quality items of dubious taste. When I mention this to the locals (and I don't really care because, well, I don't buy anything that I can't eat), they say that this is just the way they like it. Thank heaven for Costco... and the internet...

But it can be a bit frustrating. Right now, I'm looking for a cute change purse for one of my little ones and I can either get fake plastic in various shades of yellow, pink or orange, at Target or nubby hemp from Nepal or Guatemala. Period. Seriously. In the Bay Area I had everything from Ferragamo leather to handmade silk, to cute, locally-handmade-by-artisans, to lower priced, but good looking items at discounters from which to make my selection.

I know, look on the bright side. I won't have to spend so much time searching for the perfect change purse. And this is not a bad thing.