If it plays in Vermont...

Stephen sent me this link today about Vermont. Reading it brought on a couple of different emotional reactions.

The first was a surge of hope tinged with some anxiety about Dean's candidacy. By most accounts (from both the left and the right), he did a good job as Governor of Vermont, left it in great condition; contrast it with the condition in which Shrub left Texas and it is to WEEP. (If you haven't yet, Molly Ivins' Bushwhacked is a must-read). I think it's important for Dean to really emphasize his accomplishments in VT during his campaign, and I really would love to see him be able to support and enact similar policies throughout the US. That's where the anxiety comes in of course, the question of whether his campaign will succeed.

(And before you ask - no, I didn't listen to the State of the Union speech last night. I have listened to as little coverage of it as possible thus far today. I'll probably read the text of it later as I cannot tolerate W's voice for more than 15 seconds without wanting to kill something, but I should make myself aware of the current set of lies he's trying to feed us; as Jer said last night when I told him I was in seclusion, it's important to "know yer enemy.")

The other emotion I experienced is much more surprising to me. See, Seattle is home. I feel a connection to this place that I never felt living in the midwest and I adore this town, this part of the country. I love living in a city that's not too big and not too small, one that is no more than a couple of hours drive to mountains, rainforest, and ocean. I love being a left-coaster. I love the weather up here - summers that are warm but not hot and sunny from July through September, and winters that are rainy but not too cold, the rain and grey tempered (for me) by lovely sunbreaks that occur often enough to keep me from getting gloomy.

So when I read about Vermont, I was really surprised to have the first little bitty pang of wistful longing to try life, not just in another place (as we'd certainly consider Vancouver as an alternate should things go horribly wrong in November), but in a place that's back on the east coast. Sure, I know it's the fantasy untempered by the reality of having to endure extended periods of cold and snow in the winter and heat, humidity, and mosquitos in the summer (which I am so happy not to have to deal with anymore), but still it was interesting to me that it's a fantasy I'd entertain at all.

What it tells me is *not* that I need to pack up and move east (whew!), but that I need to spend some time thinking about which parts of the description tripped my trigger. If there's something missing where I am now, what is it: community? aspects of small-town life? democracy? Maybe all three. And once I figure it out, the question is... what am I going to do about it right where I am?