Where I Was From II: Idol Edition

Hot hot breaking news! I recently learned from a TV-loving co-worker that while I had my nose buried in books this spring, a boy from my hometown, David Archuleta, has become a national celebrity via the fifteen minutes of fame machine that is American Idol.

Murray, Utah. Now that's where I'm really from.

Where I Was From

Last month, I read Joan Didion's finely crafted Where I Was From, a searing and emotional examination of California--its people, culture, history, and myths.

What am I reading this month? I seem to have stumbled upon a goldmine of blogs authored by people I once knew. People I met in junior high. Secretly stalking these paeans to procreation has caused me to reflect on where I am from, too.

Utah. I left, much to my mother's dismay, in 1997. Except for the long winter and summer breaks in college, I've never returned for more than a few days. And I don't return frequently. Aside from my family and the splendid natural beauty of the Wasatch Front, there's not much to draw me back. I always feel like a stranger in my homeland. And I pretty much always felt this way. My guess is that this is pretty natural when you're not part of the hegemonic culture. (Having left the Church at seven years old, I steered safely clear of the whole dunking ritual, after which your name is forever on Brother Brigham's rolls. In hindsight, the only real drawback was that I lacked for playmates on Saturdays in junior high when my faithful friends were out baptizing dead folks.)

Yogurt: An Obsession Reborn

When we moved to Seattle three years and eleven months ago, I made a remarkable discovery: yogurt. Sure I've had plenty of Yoplait (including a Go-Gurt with my niece once) in my life. But the Northwest's own Nancy's Cultured Dairy and Soy brand, based in Eugene, Oregon, truly knocked my socks off. Over the years, we've bought countless ounces of the stuff (judging by the bounty of plastic Nancy's tubs in our cupboard). I have been known to use yogurt as the secret ingredient for banana bread, blueberry muffins, and macaroni and cheese, and as a general all-purpose sour cream substitute since. (That's right, yogurt is my all-purpose secret ingredient and general palliative cure. You heard it here first.) Like the moon, my yogurt fancies wax and wane periodically. But my obsession is always there to some degree. One day, ask me to describe the yogurt section to you at the friendly Montparnasse neighborhood Monoprix that I visited in February in Paris. (I warn you, that conversation may last hours.)

Discovering Discovery Park

After nearly four years in Seattle, we finally crossed over the Magnolia bridge for the first time ever. What a charming Californian outpost right here in our own city! I can't figure out which part of California moved north, but like West Seattle, the Magnolia neighborhood seems distinctly inspired by the architecture and landscaping native to the Golden State. We wandered around near Magnolia Park, where our ever-so-lovable-when-you're-not-around dog Essie got her first taste of vertigo cautiously crossing a bridge over a steep gully. We walked along the rounded road on the bluff overlooking the Puget Sound and gawked at the ridiculously huge homes with Porsches in each driveway and neatly manicured lawns before we trudged back to the car and to our real destination: Discovery Park.

Friends, this place is delightful! On a bluff overlooking the Puget Sound, this does not feel like an in-city experience.