I’m staying with my friends Tim and Susan while I’m here in upstate New York. As you can imagine, only very, very good friends could possibly put me up (or put up with me) for any length of time. So true. I’ve known them for 34 years now, so they’re pretty used to me.
That’s Susan with me in a picture taken circa 1980.
And here I am with Tim.
Yep, we go back a long way.
Unfortunately for them, I’m very comfortable here despite the fact that they have three cats and two birds. They used to have four, including one named Linda (so not funny), but the Linda bird and another one died.
Tim and Susan are really good about keeping the cats away from me (sorry, animal lovers—I’m not on your team) (but I'm still a lovely person) so I’m not mental about them, plus they’re nothing compared to the birds. I can’t believe I’m in a house with birds!
You know these two must be trusted friends and they’ve assured me those goddamn birds are hermetically sealed in their cage or there’d be no freakin’ way I could stay here. I told them if they want to get rid of me, all they have to do is tell me the birds want to get loose and I’ll be out of here in no time.
Tim and Susan live out in the country about 15 miles outside of Albany. It’s beautiful in rural Albany County, and they have a really nice spot. It’s so green around here, you’d think you were in Ireland. Gorgeous.
Susan and I have been walking this road in the morning.
Okay, here’s where I’m mental. I’d have no problem strutting myself into a biker bar at half past midnight, but I would never dream of walking alone on a country road in the middle of the day. I’d be afraid of a rabid Cujo charging toward me or a creepy banjo picker springing from the porch. Not to mention kidnappers and ax murderers--anyone could just pick you off and who would know? As Pee Wee said in his Big Adventure, “Scream all you want, we’re miles from where anyone can hear you!”
I’m not a country girl. Until I moved out West, with the exception of a brief two-year period I always lived right in the city of Albany and never even had off-street parking. Realistically I know that the chances of an ax murderer/rapist driving down a remote country road the minute I happen to be walking on it is probably less likely than my chance of winning the New York State lottery. But still…
Are you a city person afraid of the country? Or a country person afraid of the city? Or am I just weird?