THE HILARIOUS COVID19 PANDEMIC - Connecticut
Connecticut, the State in Search of an Identity.
If I didn't like Connecticut so much, I'd accuse it of schizophrenia.
Used to say Philadelphia, where I grew up, was the City in Search of an Identity. It lay in the middle of a Northeast Corridor Amtrak ride between New York City and Washington, D.C., both towns with personalities.
The same gestalt pervades Connecticut. It starts out as some malignant growth on the Bronx and metastasizes above Long Island until it starts rubbing against the non-existence of Rhode Island.
But there is nothing specific about the state, much as I've grown to like it during the first two weeks of our escape.
Connecticut doesn't have a pro sports franchise. If it has a symphony, ballet, or opera, it would be on par with Vermont. And that is not something I'd be putting on a fund-raising posting anywhere.
“The Nutmeg State Ballet. We're as good as The Green Mountain Dancers!”
We spent today looking at houses, and if there was ever a state basking in the glow of zero urban planning, it's Connecticut. Interspersed with a bunch of Cape Codders, are some 70s pre-fabs, Faux Victorians, and rustic DIY tongue-and-groovers.
That's the northern part of CT.
The south is dominated by gated communities filled with besieged white folks, guilt-ridden Liberals, and Limousine Leftists. Just put them all in the category of besieged white folks. The only difference in the politics of Greenwich and Stamford, as compared to New Haven and Hartford, is income levels.
Much as Yalies like to boast of being, well, Yalies, they bolt for whiter pastures at the drop of a job offer.
We've gone as far south as Old Lyme (Really?) and as far north as Pawcatuck. Inland to Pequot.
We keep coming back to Groton. Don't know why. Groton / Long Point is as much of an architecture catastrophe as Escher.
It just feels right.
We are off on an official tour tomorrow with an actual real estate agent. We start in Stonington (Really?). Above is a photo of said property. I could lie and say it's in the self-indulgent town of Mystic, but I won't.
More to come.