What the FUCK is wrong with Minnesotans?
Dec. 15th, 2008 11:25 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
janradderAs I was driving today, I passed a minivan stuck on a curb. The front axle was snapped so the front driver's side wheel hung askew. The driver sat in the vehicle withe the engine running. He had been struck by another can that had fled the scene of the accident. I knew this because of the debris scattered in the intersection. Amongst pieces of metal and plastic lay a license plate which did not belong to the minivan (it had both plates still firmly attached). People in cars drove by the minivan giving it and the driver disapproving looks.
I pulled over to the side of the road and called 911 to report the accident in case no on else had. As a matter of fact, even though it appeared that the accident had occurred at least several minutes earlier, I was the first to call.
This is not unusual for Minnesotans, ignoring someone in need. Two summers ago, I lost control of my bike and slid about fifty feet across asphalt and rocks before being stopped by a train track. No one had been around to see the accident but a few moments later, after I had pulled myself up to a sitting position next to my bike which now lay in two pieces, several cyclists came riding past. They gave me funny disapproving looks as I sat on the gravel, blood streaming down my arms and leg. They didn't stop, though, just glared and pedaled on. Nor did anyone stop or ask if I needed help or even slow down as I fixed my bike on the side of the path. They just rode by and stared. Last year, when I was held up in front of my house, it was the same. As the mugger pointed his gun at my head, at least three cars drove by, their headlights actually lighting us up as they went past. Did they maybe try to call 911, though? No, in fact they didn't.
And this type of behavior isn't just reserved for crisis. Whenever my car has gotten stuck in the snow, I've gotten it out all by myself because the people walking by would rather glare at me as if I were walking around in my underwear slapping myself in the head with a dead fish. When I've carried armfuls of packages into the post office, the only time anyone has ever opened the door for me was when that person was already at the door and they've usually held it for me with a begrudging expression on their face. If They've already walked past the door or are a few steps away from it, they've invariably given me a dirty bewildered look like, "What th hell are you doing with those boxes?" And only once in the fifteen years I've lived here has someone offered to help me carry those packages.
There is something deeply wrong about Minnesotans in their refusal to recognize anyone else or reach out to them or offer any help or assistance. They insist on remaining insular, isolated from anyone they don't personally know. It's as if a common connection to humanity is missing or else it's taught out of them in childhood -- take care of yourself, and let others do the same. I find this quality profoundly disturbing and very unsettling. Minnesotans love to brag about themselves, pointing out how they made the top five list in education or health or livability. There are endless news stories about Minnesotans in the Olympics or Hollywood or business, ignoring everyone else who might also be involved in those things because they aren't Minnesotan. This fall, when the American League MVP award was announced, there were two sentences that mentioned the winner. The rest of the article -- a quarter of a page -- was devoted to the two Minnesota Twins who didn't win.
Minnesotans delight in the Garrison Keillor sign-off for his "News from Lake Wobegon" in which he describes the people of this state: "Where all the women are strong, all the men are good looking, and all the children are above average." They should add an addendum -- "And where no one gives a fuck about anyone but themselves and their own."
I pulled over to the side of the road and called 911 to report the accident in case no on else had. As a matter of fact, even though it appeared that the accident had occurred at least several minutes earlier, I was the first to call.
This is not unusual for Minnesotans, ignoring someone in need. Two summers ago, I lost control of my bike and slid about fifty feet across asphalt and rocks before being stopped by a train track. No one had been around to see the accident but a few moments later, after I had pulled myself up to a sitting position next to my bike which now lay in two pieces, several cyclists came riding past. They gave me funny disapproving looks as I sat on the gravel, blood streaming down my arms and leg. They didn't stop, though, just glared and pedaled on. Nor did anyone stop or ask if I needed help or even slow down as I fixed my bike on the side of the path. They just rode by and stared. Last year, when I was held up in front of my house, it was the same. As the mugger pointed his gun at my head, at least three cars drove by, their headlights actually lighting us up as they went past. Did they maybe try to call 911, though? No, in fact they didn't.
And this type of behavior isn't just reserved for crisis. Whenever my car has gotten stuck in the snow, I've gotten it out all by myself because the people walking by would rather glare at me as if I were walking around in my underwear slapping myself in the head with a dead fish. When I've carried armfuls of packages into the post office, the only time anyone has ever opened the door for me was when that person was already at the door and they've usually held it for me with a begrudging expression on their face. If They've already walked past the door or are a few steps away from it, they've invariably given me a dirty bewildered look like, "What th hell are you doing with those boxes?" And only once in the fifteen years I've lived here has someone offered to help me carry those packages.
There is something deeply wrong about Minnesotans in their refusal to recognize anyone else or reach out to them or offer any help or assistance. They insist on remaining insular, isolated from anyone they don't personally know. It's as if a common connection to humanity is missing or else it's taught out of them in childhood -- take care of yourself, and let others do the same. I find this quality profoundly disturbing and very unsettling. Minnesotans love to brag about themselves, pointing out how they made the top five list in education or health or livability. There are endless news stories about Minnesotans in the Olympics or Hollywood or business, ignoring everyone else who might also be involved in those things because they aren't Minnesotan. This fall, when the American League MVP award was announced, there were two sentences that mentioned the winner. The rest of the article -- a quarter of a page -- was devoted to the two Minnesota Twins who didn't win.
Minnesotans delight in the Garrison Keillor sign-off for his "News from Lake Wobegon" in which he describes the people of this state: "Where all the women are strong, all the men are good looking, and all the children are above average." They should add an addendum -- "And where no one gives a fuck about anyone but themselves and their own."
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no subject
Date: 2008-12-15 08:23 pm (UTC)The first month I was living in Brooklyn, I saw a bicyclist get clipped by a car at a busy intersection, and two bars and a restaurant practically emptied out as people ran out to check on the cyclist and take cell-phone pictures of the car as it drove away. (The cyclist, as it turned out, got really irritated by all the questions about whether or not he was okay, and when people started offering themselves as witnesses if he wanted to make a police complaint, he started shouting at everyone to leave him alone. It felt like an oddly characteristic New York experience.)
no subject
Date: 2008-12-15 08:40 pm (UTC)