Seattleites are an interesting bunch. At first, I couldn't help but think they’re just not that into me. It’s a strange dynamic because people are not particularly rude but they aren’t openly friendly either. Even service workers serve up the bare minimum of polite. Smiling optional.
After a couple of days of dealing with this perceived “Seattitude,” I did a google search to prove I wasn't buggin’. Turns out the ‘tude is real and there is a term for it —“The Seattle Freeze.” It basically means that it is difficult to make friends in Seattle since locals come across standoffish and distant, sticking to their cliques and such. Okay, I can respect that. I’m not one to trust a stranger especially a smiling one, so I get it. It just sucked because this time I was the smiling stranger, in white Kurt Cobain sunglasses.
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I was enthusiastic to be in Seattle to say the least.
This was at the Karen Mason Blair pop up exhibit.
#TheFlannelYears |
Once I knew the “Seattle Freeze” was a thing, I rolled with it and stopped trying so hard to be friendly and in turn, ended up meeting a bunch of really cool folks organically. There was our grunge tour guide, Eric, who I mentioned in my previous post who showed no sign of the freeze at all and a few others along the way. Of course, Seattleites that attended Pearl Jam events were super cool and chill since we shared a solid connection.
Uber drivers in general can be quirky characters but the ones I encountered in Seattle definitely made the rides colorful. Here are some of them:
The ‘Too Cool for Pearl Jam’ Dude
Upon entering our uber to the PJ merch stand, we confirmed the location with our driver since we didn't know our way around Safeco Field.
“Oh yeah, I know where you guys are going,” he reassured us. “There was a long ass line there earlier.”
“I could imagine! PJ fans take our merch very seriously,” I joked.
“Yeah,” he replied in a snarky tone, “I almost bought tickets to see Pearl Jam but they were too expensive. I see these guys around all the time anyway. I always run into Eddie and Mike at this bar in Alki. It’s really no big deal around here.”
“Wait, what’s the name of the bar?” I asked iPhone in hand ready to document this intel.
He forgot the name of the bar and called a friend. Voicemail. Great. He gave us a description of the bar and the location. Close enough, I guess.
He continued to share stories about the encounters he had with band members about town like it was no big deal.
Then the conversation shifted to how expensive real estate is anywhere near downtown. Once his daughters are out of school, he plans on moving farther out and buying a boat. We also learned about his recent breakup with his druggy ex. I say we covered a lot in a 12 minute ride.
The Warning
It was a typical uber ride with light conversation likely kept up by Glori because my rule of thumb is I don't shoot the shit in ubers unless a) it’s super interesting, b) I am drunk or c) I’m in Nashville. I’m friendlier in the South.
The driver moved to Seattle a few years ago. Glori mentioned something along the lines of the people being assholes.
“Well yeah,” he laughs. “People here can be passive aggressive, that’s for sure.”
This was before my google findings. He was right.
The Clueless
To make our trip complete, we had to visit to the Kurt Cobain benches in Viretta Park located near the home where he died.
I entered an obscure Viretta Park address in my uber request so we were lost.
I told the driver, “Oh, we’re going to the Kurt Cobain benches,” thinking that would be sufficient enough.
He was quiet.
“Do you know where that is?”
“No,” he responded, confused.
“Really? Okay, let me try to get an exact address.”
I found a street address and shared it with him.
“Does that ring a bell?” I ask waiting for reassurance.
Still no clue.
“Do you even know who Kurt Cobain is?” I asked with sarcastic jest.
I mean, there was no way he was an uber driver in SEATTLE and didn't know Kurt.
“No, I don't know who he is,” he replied.
Cue in - Monica loses her shit. “WHAT?! Are you kidding me? Have you heard of Nirvana?”
“Yes, I’ve heard of them,” he replies dryly.
Great I bet he saw a millennial with a Hot Topic Nirvana tee and that’s how he knows them.
I replied, “Well, Kurt Cobain was their singer. Look it up. You’re in Seattle, dude. You should know this history.”
We got out and I gave him a low star rating. Yes, I’m an asshole. I’ll take it, man. He was definitely from the US, maybe not from Seattle but still, come on! It was upsetting to say the least. They need to teach this shit in schools.
We then had a few quiet moments by Kurt’s bench when other fans joined us playing Nirvana songs on their phones while we read the messages of homage written on the benches. Glori and I placed flowers on the bench that we sneakily picked from hotel and restaurant planters earlier that day. I also left my favorite choker on the bench in tribute.
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| The flowers and choker I left |
The Jesus People
As I mentioned in Part I of this blog series, entering the concert venue, Safeco Field was a shit show. People swarmed the place like ants on a cheetoh. So, having a dude standing on the corner of Safeco screaming God’s wrath from a muffled mic was not welcome, to say the least.
A crazy, religious radical would be a kind way to describe the mouthy man dressed in a cardboard sign that screamed “Repent” in bold letters to the crowd.
People seemed to ignore him as if this was a typical “outreach” scene in Seattle. I tried to ignore him as well. But when I saw he was out there again before Night 2, I couldn't take it. It was beginning to really piss me off.
Not only was the dude overall obnoxious, he was misrepresenting Christians and people of faith. I am a Christian and am proud of my beliefs. But, this fool was making a mockery of what it meant to be a believer. He was rude, condemning and trite with dark callous, judgmental eyes.
I wondered, what was the goal of this prickly preacher? It clearly was not to share or spread the love of God. Not a single person was going to respond and say, “You know what man, you’re right. Let me leave this concert and repent for my sins.”
I felt inclined to ask him, “What do you think would happen if your message was to share God’s love as opposed to God’s ‘wrath?’ Don’t you think it would be better if you were out here asking people if they needed prayer, a hug or even providing an encouraging word in these troubling times?”
I boldly but kindly approached the angry thick bearded man and posed these questions. Well, I attempted to ask these questions but he didn't hear me. He took one good look at my Citizen Dick t-shirt and proclaimed, “YOU CANNOT SERVE TWO MASTERS,” layered with a few other out of context scriptures.
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This is our tourist pic after a harbor cruise.
Featured is my Citizen Dick shirt. |
At first I found his response to my shirt funny but then I was pissed again. Glori saw my attitude shift and pulled me away from the dude. We rightfully flipped him off as we walked away. “Screw you dude!”
Middle fingers in the air, we attracted the attention of an Australian woman and her 15 year old son who traveled to Seattle for the shows. I told the lovely Aussie about my experience and thoughts on this dude and how he was misrepresenting Christians.
She’s actually an atheist but agreed with my point of view that a message of love would be much better received. She shared that there was one time in her life where she prayed out of desperation when faced with serious hardship.
That was the only time she prayed to God and the situation was resolved. We continued to connect over our love for the band then hugged and wished each other well before we departed for our seats. That blessed me more than the cruel rhetoric from the idiot with the signs.
Save the Showbox
My love for Seattle was sealed on my last full day of the SubPop’s SPF 30 music festival at Alki Beach.
We had purchased a couple of “Save Our Showbox" t-shirts at the Showbox SoDo location the day before at a Wishlist fundraiser party before PJ Night 2. We wore the shirts the day of the festival in support of the cause. It was really shitty that The Showbox, an iconic live music venue, was in real danger of being torn down to build yet another high-rise apartment building. There was a petition to save The Showbox that was supported by locals and many musicians including Pearl Jam, Death Cab for Cutie and Duff McKagan to name of few. The tees helped spread awareness and support.
Before heading to West Seattle’s Akli Beach, we grabbed some grub at White Swan in Lake Union, a chill seafood joint with outdoor benches and buckets of beer. As Glori and I headed to our table in our matching Showbox shirts, this tall guy at a nearby table says, “Nice shirts.”
As luck would have it, the dude ran the Showbox downtown and told us he got chills seeing us in the shirts. He was genuinely grateful for the support. It seemed like he needed it. On his way out, he waved and told us he would catch us at the festival. Yes! Seattleites were becoming our friends!
We made a stop at Easy Street Records and on our way there, more and more people began to comment on our shirts.
“Wow, great shirts!”
“Yeah, rock on!”
One dude asked, “Are you going to City Hall on Monday?”
“Nah man, we fly out tomorrow but we support you,” I answered with a fist pump.
We received so much love, especially at the festival! We continued to attract comments or questions about the shirts and encouraged folks to attend the meeting at City Hall on Monday. Apparently that was where the city council would vote on the fate of The Showbox downtown.
As we shared our support for The Showbox, the more friends we made. It reminded me of something interesting our grunge tour guide shared. He basically said that during the “grunge boom” lots of musicians and such were trekking to Seattle since there was so much hype around it. Interestingly enough, local bands and those part of the “scene” were welcoming overall but wanted to see if people were being authentic and really invested in the music and community. Like, they had to prove themselves and stick around for a while and support the scene.
I felt like that was also the case here — like ‘show love to get love’ sort of thing.
My first day back home was the day of the hearing at City Hall and I wanted to continue to support the Save The Showbox efforts. I wrote letters to each council member as well as the Mayor’s office in support of the initiative.
I felt strangely connected and invested in this mission, more so than I ever have been in NYC. I guess in New York, it’s easy to become cynical and numb to gentrification. The city is big money and it’s ever-changing and evolving, loyal to no one.
But, there was something different about Seattle. There, I saw people who shared a sincere love for their city, its history and culture. The pride amongst locals, especially in the music scene was palpable.
There, Pearl Jam, a local band that made it big gave back to their community and took action against a human issue faced in their city - rampant homelessness. And, in the process, brought people together from around the world, from all walks of life to unite and support this worthy cause.
Seeing Seattle becoming a tech boom town affected me.
Even if taking action in supporting their Showbox was only a small gesture, I felt like I had to help in their fight against corporate money and big business. Although I’m on the opposite side of the country, that’s where it hit home for me.
There was a lot more that had an impact on me while in Seattle for The Home Shows. The MoPop Pearl Jam exhibit was mind blowing - from the time you enter the dim yet colorful staircase filled the meditative music from Ten to the astonishing memorabilia and band artifacts, awards, art, posters, clothing, masks, notebooks with lyrics…You name it - it was there and it was RAD. The Nirvana exhibit at MoPop, although vastly smaller and more intimate, yielded great emotion. Kurt Cobain was a trailblazer and seeing the documentation of it was deeply meaningful.
Until next time, Seattle...
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This was the view from the Kurt benches and his former home. This was during a sun shower. Stunning.
*Showbox Update via historicseattle.org (click link below for full article)*
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