Hiding Out From The Third Millennium
Posted on May 23, 2008
Filed Under Gold Beach, Oregon |
Thanks to the joys of syndication there are few Americans– even those born long after the series ended its original run– who are unfamil
iar with the fictional town of Mayberry, North Carolina, introduced to us by the long-running “Andy Griffith Show.” It was a quiet, folksy, friendly place in which little of consequence ever happened, crime was virtually nonexistent (and a good thing, too), and everyone knew everything there was to know about everyone else.
More than a quarter century after Andy Griffith turned in his sheriff’s badge, another fictional small town entered the public consciousness– Cicily, Alaska, served up by the alarmingly fertile imaginations at work behind the scenes of the 1990s’ series “Northern Exposure.” In Cicily, a tiny and phenomenally remote dot on the map surrounded by spectacular scenery, an ex-con DJ spoute
d Proust and Nietzsche, the very young wife of a barkeep 40 years her senior could only sing rather than speak during several months of her pregnancy, the boyfriends of an extremely attractive (but inexplicably hostile) female pilot all died bizarre and premature deaths, and the citizenry as a whole would have to be considered at least half a bubble off plumb.
Now imagine what might happen if some celestial alchemist, in search of an afternoon’s amusement, decided to stir together (or perhaps even shake) the fundamental elements of Mayberry and Cicily…
The result could very well be Gold Beach, Oregon, the coastal village near which I live.
Nestled in the cozy embrace of fir and cedar forests and the glittering Pacific, its generously-estimated population of 2,000 souls vastly out
numbered by a myriad assortment of wildlife, Gold Beach is a peaceful hamlet that seems to exist in a time warp, circa 1958.
Houses go unlocked, car keys are left in the ignition, and the police department closes at 5 p.m.; it’s a place in which no one hesitates to start a conversation with a stranger, nor to offer help when it’s needed– and those who are ticketed for driving without first buckling up will find their names filling the police report published in the local weekly newspaper. Major crimes, of course, receive front-page headlines. These can and do include the memorable “Minor Stopped And Questioned For Possession Of Tobacco Product” and “Bear Cub Eludes Police In Su
permarket Parking Lot”.
At the same time, it can be safely surmised that Gold Beach is a mental hospital without walls—long-term observation of the place can only confirm the initial impression, which is that everyone here is crazy, and nobody minds. The natural beauty of the area acts as a lure to those of creative mind and temperament, and when this factor is added to the presence of an already somewhat-peculiar population, there tends to be a noticeably enhanced degree of individualism in many of those one meets.
This is generally considered to be a good thing.
So, when a waitress announces she’s running for the presidency of the United States because she feels that the White House should be redecorated in an Egyptian motif, the townspeople gather to listen to her platform.
No one considers it odd that another of the town’s residents puts out a weekly newsletter explaining the reasons that aliens have decided this is the optimal place to land and set up their headquarters. Instead, people argue the question of whether or not the aliens have really thought this out, and if Port Orford, half an
hour up the road might not be better suited to their purposes.
A local painter makes his practice to walk into restaurants, sit down, and begin singing; there’s no cause to object, as he has a pleasant voice and he takes requests.
A perhaps not-misplaced degree of respect is accorded the woman who, from time to time, walks around town in the pre-Vatican II habit of a Catholic nun. She isn’t a nun, and she isn’t Catholic, but the prevailing view is that at least she’s chosen a positive role model.
And so it goes.
Geographically removed from the rest of the world, with civilization and its discontents a distant, 3-hour drive across a magnificent but treacherous gorge, Gold Beach is not a place for people who need malls. It tends to attract those of independent mind and spirit, who like to do things their own way, without interference, and without the distractions inherent to more populous environs.
Artists, writers, composers, philosophers, and other creative, cerebrally-oriented individualists are drawn here by the unspoiled loveliness, the solitude, and the unimpeded freedom to be who they are.
It’s where one comes after thoroughly exploring the world, taking a good long look at the state that it’s in, and deciding to find the best possible location in which to escape from it.
It’s a great place to hide out from the third millennium.
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6 Responses to “Hiding Out From The Third Millennium”
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Beautifully put and reminds me so much of our own hideawy here in Aus. We have a cabin in the pine forest where, dare I mention it ,people still drive Combi vans and talk real slow. We locked up and left one time only to return 5 months later and find the front door had blown open while we were away and no one had been in but the bush creatures LOL!
I enjoyed hearing your the town very much!
Lee
Hmmm - reminds me of the crazy place I gew up in New Zealand. More loonies per square mile than anywhere else you’d care to name. Loved your post. Hilarious.
A fun read. I never watched the old Andy Griffith shows — they ran at a time I was too busy with my own happenings to watch TV much. I have seen a few of the Northern Exposure episodes, though. An interesting mix of environments. I took the time to click on your Gold Beach link and wander around a bit before reading the rest of your post. Loved the artists’ gallery and open studio concept. That alone made me want to visit.
I also loved the paragraph beginning “Houses go unlocked, car keys…” And this, “…everyone here is crazy, and nobody minds.” Sounds like a piece of Heaven up there.
Gotta’ love the woman who wants to bring a bit of Egyptian decor to the White House. I finished your story laughing — sputtering my coffee at once point. Not so much at the personalities as at your little editorials on each. Funny stuff.
Toward the end you mention the “unimpeded freedom to be who (the townspeople) are.” Oh, if only we all gave ourselves permission to pursue just that — no matter where we live.
I enjoyed this, Shoshanna. And I like the name of your blog…
Barb
Love your writing! Enjoyed the post very much.
I’ll bookmark for my DH to read.
And I’ll add you to my rss feed.
Thanks
Carol
Wonderfully written and descriptive. Look forward to reading more.
[...] So, if I wanted to show my readers an example of good writing and how to engage with your readers on a personal level I might write a post about Barb’s post on Scrapbook or Art Journal: Its a Personal Journey. To make it an educational post, I would identify key themes and techniques in the writing of that post that make it so successful. I would compare and contrast it with another great example of student writing with Shoshanna’s post Hiding out from the Third Millenium. [...]