Much to the amusement of my family and friends, I recently became a legal resident of New Hampshire. I told people that it was for car insurance reasons, but in truth, Dartmouth's attempt to brainwash us by playing the alma mater twice a day finally convinced me that I wanted to be a legitimate part of the granite of New Hampshire. (Have you ever noticed that the Baker Bells hit about 3 notes in most songs they play, but can churn out both verses of the alma mater with orchestral-type perfection? But that's a different column.)
As a native New Yorker, switching statehood was a bit traumatic. I was kind of bitter at first. Not only am I losing my New York-hood, but also, I am no longer entitled to make fun of people from New Jersey. Or Connecticut. Or Upstate New York. Or Iowa. No longer will New York-associated fear protect me from barbs about where I live. I am open to the same vicious attacks that I used to bestow so carelessly upon people. How can I possibly retort when people needle my new state's lack of personality?
Lucky for me, the New Hampshire Department of State has all the ammunition I need for the naysayers. With the help of one of their websites, I found enough personality for even the most dubious. Despite it's gentile faade, ever since those roaring 1620s, New Hampshire has been a haven for some of this country's wackiest moments. Not only was it the first state in which a potato was planted, but it was also the first state to establish a lottery. Some other highlights from history include:
1) The founding of New Hampshire had nothing to do with any petty persecution-type squabbles. No disgruntled ex-Brits trooped over here, in search of a 'better life.' It was founded because some folks in England wanted a fishing colony. (This was, apparently, before they knew that Red Lobster was going international.)
2) Upon seeing New Hampshire, a very impressed Captain John Smith was reported to have said, "Here should be no landlords to rack us with high rents, or extorted fines to consume us." (I guess since the River Cluster is in Vermont, this doesn't really apply to Dartmouth.)
3) In addition to the nickname, "The Granite State," New Hampshire is sometimes known as the "Mother of Rivers." (This is an attempt to make the state more appealing to fans of wrestling. Next Friday The Rock takes on the Mother of Rivers. Be there.)
4) On the subject of the joys of winter, the page has this to say: "New Hampshire has some of the finest ski terrain in the east where the sport may be enjoyed well into July and August." (I will cry if I wake up one morning in August and see Mother Nature has made it possible for me to ski.)
After coming to the conclusion that the people who wrote that page had never actually been to New Hampshire, I realized that, despite their failed attempts at trying to make the state endearing, there is plenty to love about my new residence. Where else can you dart out into the middle of the street and not get killed? (Note to pedestrians: do not pull that stunt when I am behind the wheel. The plates may say New Hampshire, but the driver has not yet left New York.) And I would be negligent if I didn't mention syrup. Or old people who troop in by the busload to look at leaves. Or snow. It's time for me to buck up and embrace my status as a New Englander. Watch out.
