Tomorrow a friend and I go for a walk. The destination is to return to the start, but to have traveled through hours of conversation with a friend. A city will pass by. We'll be surprised.

 

 

My friend and I have been doing this monthly, or at least we attempt it monthly, for about a decade or so. We pick a city or town and commence to wander through and around it for a day, stopping for food, drinks, rest, a view, and then returning to the start. Sometimes it is less than ten miles. Sometimes it is more like twenty. Good shoes, a hat, open eyes, open minds, and a good conversation make it easier than it may sound.

 

So far we've walked most of the streets in downtown Seattle, through many of its neighborhoods, and we've toured about a dozen of the local cities and towns around Puget Sound.

 

It is surprising how many people don't walk through their own neighborhoods. Far fewer walk through the neighboring neighborhood, and fewer walk beyond that. A city gets a stereotype as readily as people, causes, and nations. Stereotypes and generalizations fade quickly with even a short encounter.

 

Wealthy neighborhoods, or more correctly streets lined with expensive homes, don't seem to house the rich. The rich may have many houses. Those streets are enlivened by the contractors, gardeners, and maids that maintain the properties. They may not get paid much, but they have awesome views from their offices, or at least their pickup trucks. Those streets also tend to be barren of any place to sit and relax, unless it is a park bench provided by the city.

 

The suburbs are alive. People tending their yards. Kids running around and playing. TVs, leaf blowers, and washing machines sustain a auditory background, almost as a way to tie the place together.

 

Shopping areas are very welcome and also reminders of the essentials, and the luxuries, and the economies of each. Fruit stands may be our best health care option, but their profit margin isn't as obvious as that of the jewelry stores. But the fruit stand may survive a bad economy more readily.

 

Industrial zones don't turn me off. I worked in a oil depot and a steel mill. The sounds and smells of diesels is sensory comfort food, like the reaction some folks have to the smell of a freshly manured field. City folk may not like it, but country folk can be reminded of home.

 

The area gets covered with Seattle's label. There is a commonality, but there is more than enough diversity to keep things interesting, and to foster rivalries. Some Seattleites can't imagine any culture existing on the Eastside or out of King County. There are artists everywhere, and many of the ones known in Seattle can't afford to live there. They live in the outlying lands, which means the more innovative and less pretentious art can sometimes be found in small town coffeeshops.

 

We do these walks, not as anthropological studies, but to spend time with a friend. It is a simple act, conducted for simple reasons, that is very valuable. As a bonus, we have a much better idea of where to find good beer and good views.

 

Much of life can be that way. Complexity is not required. Simply observation can reveal some of the reality that exists behind labels and stereotypes. It is true of cities, neighborhoods, people, companies, institutions, and the world.

 

Such insights don't have to be targeted. Maybe they can't. Maybe what works best is to simply provide a vehicle and opportunity for them to be revealed, and maintaining open eyes and an open mind to accept the delivery. We never know what we'll find. We give ourselves a general target, and don't fret about finding something else instead.