Saturday, September 22, 2007

"Flatlanders and Ridgerunners"

Kevin Coolidge

Two flatlanders are hiking in the Pennsylvania Grand Canyon when they find themselves trapped between a mother bear and her two cubs. The bear roars and starts to charge towards them. One of them stands rooted to the spot, while the other bends down, calmly takes off his fancy hiking boots, and starts to lace up his running shoes. The first flatlander looks over and says to his friend, "Why bother? No one can outrun a bear." His friend looks up and says, "I know that. But all I have to do is outrun you..."

I’m a ridgerunner and thus a natural storyteller and I love flatlander jokes. Just what is a flatlander? If you have to ask, you probably are one. Natives, also known as ridgerunners, use flatlander as a term for people from “down state”, especially people from Southern Pennsylvania around Philadelphia area and especially folks from New Jersey. Really though, it can stand for anyone from outside the endless mountains of North Central Pennsylvania. The term can be used jokingly, but also with a fair amount of contempt.

The common understanding, as represented in the book Flatlanders and Ridgerunners by James York Glimm, is that the flatlanders lack the knowledge of the hills and the means of basic survival and should go home.

Unfortunately, this collection of folktales has gone the way of the Sidehill Mootie. Well, being that I’m made of earth and stone, and pure mountain spring water flows through my veins, that answer wasn’t good enough for me.

I decided to track down the publisher and find out who owned the rights and see if I couldn’t use some of that old country charm to get it reprinted. I have a copy of my own that I’ve perused so much that it’s only held together with spit and spider webs. I’ve found several of the out of print editions, but these sell upwards of eighty dollars for the hardcover edition, and close to fifty for the paperback, and that’s money I need for the still.

It seems I’m not the only one who knows their “ass from a hole in the ground”. Margie Bachman of University of Pittsburgh Press has been instrumental in this book seeing the light of day, and bringing it back into print. Margie says of the book, “First published in 1983, and continues to be in high demand…a must read.” It’s been a process for Margie, and she’s run into a number of snags along the way, but this tome of local folktales is available once again.

James York Glimm was born a city boy. So when he took a position at Mansfield University in the heart of the mountains of Northern Pennsylvania in 1968. He was unprepared for the weather, the animals, and getting only three television stations, two of which didn’t come in. He was ignorant, an outsider--yep, a flatlander. As he explains in the introduction to his now beloved book.

How does one become a ridgerunner? Well, most locals say you have to be born one, and there’s some truth to that. But with the passage of time, people might just forget that you “aint from these parts”, at least most of the time. One of the first things to remember is that this isn’t the big city, and that’s one reason we live here. There’s a natural, scenic beauty, and it doesn’t come with a opera house, stores lit with neon signs that stay open 24/7. There also isn’t a lot of impersonal, violent crime. Guns don’t kill people; people kill people. Sure, you might get an rear end full of rock salt for skinny dipping in a farmer’s pond, but he knows who you are--especially, the next day when he sees you limping around.

We like it this way, and attempting to recreate that little part of the city you left behind is universally resented. I don’t care if you are a hard-core tree hugger, vegetarian, activist, or flesh eating zombie—that’s just dandy. Just don’t stick it in my craw and expect me to chew on it. Most ridgerunners don’t care who you are or what you do as long as you extend the same courtesy to them.

Plain old good manners and common sense will see you through most situations and help you adjust to the ridgerunner way, but since there’s a book for damn near everything, I recommend, Starting A New Life In Rural America: 21 Things You Need to Know Before You Make Your Move by Ragnar Benson.

Benson grew up on a farm and has lived in the sticks most of his life. He’s gathered his advice in this handy manual. Hey, why learn things the hard way? He covers topics from septic tanks, to snow storms to bears in your garbage. Blending into your natural surroundings is just part of your new life in the country. Unfortunately, many city people think about nature and forget about social blending.

Ragnar covers driving protocol in the country, how to borrow tools, and rural churches and their role in local affairs.
There’s much more to blending into a rural community than what these two books or any column can cover, but it’s a start. Talking to folks, driving rural roads correctly and helping pull a neighbor out of a ditch in winter are much more valuable in terms of community relations than holding an open house. As I said, plain, good old manners and common sense will see you through most situations. So, take a load off, buy me a cold beer, and let me tell you about these two flatlanders that went huntin’…

Comments, questions, your favorite folktale, email me at frommyshelf@epix.net

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