So I’m about to hit the airport to catch a redeye flight from San Francisco (“Frisco”) back home to Philadelphia. After my program with work wrapped up, our boss hired a car to take us on a whirlwind tour of the area meant to fulfill various Frisco wishes and simply allow us all to kick back after a fun yet grueling weekend. I was the most veteran Frisco traveler of the bunch, but our driver – a native – took us to a number of places I’d never had the opportunity to see: he dropped us off at the Golden Gate Bridge and waited on the other side while we walked across it, we drove to Sausalito, Marin Headlands (where the Bay opens up to the Pacific Ocean), and other places. I even saw a few more spots in San Fran that I’d never seen before. Tons of fun with a great group of coworkers.
While standing on a rocky cliff overlooking the Pacific ocean, I had the following 2 thoughts, both of which I’ve had before while visiting the area:
- It’s too bad I wasted my prime partying years in Philadelphia and Chicago. Nothing against either city, but Marin County is where I should have been doing all those things I used to do.
- Had I grown up in the area, I would not have been nearly the tight-ass I am. In fact, I would have gotten into jahmmin’. I would have fully embraced my inner hippie. I think it’s the environment more than genetic predisposition that makes some of us jahm and others verge on airtight and/or pile-driving arrangements.
I’m curious to know whether there are jahm-averse Townspeople who grew up on the West Coast. I’m curious to know whether there are jahm-loving Townspeople who grew up surrounded by cement or prefab suburban communities. More to the point, have you ever found yourself in a new environment that allowed you to expand your comprehension of a form of music that was previously foreign to you?
