Many moons ago Charles sent me a link to a poem called the "Statistical Abstract for My Home of Spokane, Washington" by Jess Walter. Written by a celebrated author in Spokane, this piece is more apt at capturing the essence of the city than any other attempt I've ever seen.
The roots in Spoke run deep and they are loyal. Blood means more than anything, and while many of the kids I grew up with were regularly beaten by their own, should you cross the path of one of their 'kin' you better run for cover, cause they will fight you to the death.
It is a town of extremes, but with a common love for the BMX bike. Even a google street view of my parents house taken within the last few years shows a faceless guy wearing a 'beater shirt', gangland pants riding his seat-too-low BMX.
It's the kind of Town you love or hate, you want to live in or leave and there is rarely an in-between. But there is one thing for certain that can be said about the town. It has a stubborn spirit and is the source of many a tall tale, but it is the kind of town that won't be pushed around, and has made the news so many times, that when people ask you where you grew up, no state is needed to identify it's location.
Is that a good thing or not? I haven't quite figured it out yet.
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