I want to live in a town where people say hello to each other.
It used to be like that in Denver. Morning walks with Moose were filled with greetings between humans and snout to snout (sometimes snout to butt) sniffs and tail wags between dogs. Nowadays (I feel like such an elder when I use that word), it’s quite the opposite. Now, when we are approaching someone, the guessing game is how long it will take them to cross the road or how cold the person will be as they pass by us. Will they even make eye contact, or will they shuffle by, eyes down, earbuds in, dog tightly leashed to the opposite side of their body that we are walking past?
It’s almost comical sometimes how uncomfortable some people are now. I get it, though. The world has changed. Even in the few decades I’ve been alive, there have been significant modifications in how we communicate with each other. We’re less personal, with shorter attention spans. Most of us can’t leave the house without our earbuds or our phones. The stimulation of just walking around the neighborhood we live in, isn’t enough anymore. Why chat with a stranger, when we can video call our best friend from across the country and walk through the park with them!?
That’s the thing though, we’re all so isolated now that the idea of speaking to other people scares us. Even the anxiety driven by making a simple phone call to order pizza is overwhelming. Honestly, it’s justified. You never know if the person you’re walking towards has ill intent or if you’re going to run into another fentanyl zombie around the next corner. Living in the city certainly has it’s ups and downs, but for as much as I love Denver, I just feel like the vibes have been off lately. Homelessness is out of control, which isn’t a problem exclusive to this city by any means, but combine that with rising rents, off the charts drug use, and not enough rooms or resources, and it’s become an extremely unfortunate situation. After visiting Seattle, an assortment of cities in North Carolina, Austin, San Diego, San Francisco, and Portland over the past 10 months, I see how this same blueprint has affected cities in every state. Not just “red” states or “blue” states, every state.
I never thought the allure of Small Town, America would appeal to me, but as the major cities disintegrate, it’s hard to not want to move to an area where you know your neighbors. Where you say hello to each other while walking your dog, or in the grocery store. Where folks don’t actively avoid interaction by literally saying to their dog, “…ignore that dog and that man, you don’t know them.” Then rewarding that behavior with a treat.
Maybe I’m delusional. Maybe this idea of a utopian neighborhood has vanished from the current era. Do I have to sacrifice the enjoyment of living in a city to gain the satisfaction of knowing that my neighbors have my back? I’ve noticed that the higher the class of neighborhood, the more sequestered and isolated it is. From the gated entrance to the long and winding driveways. Gone are the days of walking over to your neighbors house to borrow a missing ingredient for dinner. Contrast that with the notion that the people most likely to share what they have are the people who have the least and you find an interesting dichotomy between the amount of money you make and the community you fit into.
Until I find the place where I can wish someone well and actually get a reciprocated greeting, I’ll keep trying. Once in a while, I’ll cross paths with another friendly soul out there who seems just as happy to be alive as I am and instead of a grunt, or keeping their eyes to the ground, they smile, make eye contact and say, “Hello.” And suddenly Denver isn’t so bad again.