April 4, 2007
Don’t Blame Me,
It’s California

California.  That’s the problem.  When you’re down and out in Las Vegas blame it on the Golden State. 

According to an AP story in last week’s Sentinel, folks in Nevada blame all their problems on the influx of Californians.  Quoting a man sitting at a Las Vegas video slot machine puffing on a cigarette, “California has a negative influence on our society.  They should keep their world in their world.” 

Not to sound judgmental, but in the last decade Las Vegas, during an era of no money down home loans, has seen real estate values jump ten fold.  They’ve been number one in growth for years.  It’s a city where hotel maids can earn 70 grand a year and skilled tradesman take home six figures.  But our friend at the bar, during that same time frame, chose to invest his money in cigarettes, video poker and beer.  And as the old saw goes, the rest of his dough he probably wasted. 

But since the video poker investment strategy didn’t work out, he, and many of his fellow citizens, blame Californians.  Well in southern Nevada one can witness bumper-to-bumper traffic rolling into “Sin City” from California every Friday night and returning home on I-15 come Sunday afternoon.  Were it not for Californians, Las Vegas today might be nothing more  than a Terrible Herbst truck stop at the intersection of highways heading to Pahrump and Searchlight. 

It’s not just Nevadans.  In America it’s always the fault of others.  “They” are the cause of all difficulties, large or small.  When forced to identify “they”, most likely it’s people from another state.  And almost always the offending citizens are perceived to be folks who lucked into financial security and whose one goal is to impose “high and mighty better than thou” standards on their new home, a location that previously, before strangers moved in, was absolute nirvana. 

Floridians blame their problems on New York retirees, North Dakotans lay all difficulties at the feet of folks from Minnesota while in Wyoming locals aren’t at all thrilled with the “greenies” (it’s the license plate color) who move to the Cowboy state from Colorado. 

Brian Burns, a talented Texas singer/songwriter detailed the prejudices of Lone Star State citizens in his biting Welcome to Texas. 

Looka here:

We don’t need your politics, we don’t need your prayers.

We don’t need your moral compass leadin us anywhere.

We don’t need your business, we don’t need your art.

We don’t really give a damn what you did up north. 

You don’t like our drivin? You don’t like our roads

You make fun of the way we talk, make fun of our clothes.

But you clog up our highways, been pourin in for years:

If you don’t like the way we do it, what are you doin here? 

These are the thoughts of those same Texans, if memory serves correctly, accused by locals of bringing about the ruination to all Colorado held sacred and dear back in the eighties. 

On a golf trip through the South a pleasant Gadsden, Alabama waitress remarked, “Y’all talk like Yankees, where y’all from?” 

“Colorado?  Oh then ya’ll are good Yankees.”  “What”, came the inquiry, “makes a good Yankee?”  “Oh”, she said, “Y’all aren’t like those troublemakers from up north.  Colorado Yankees remember to go home.”