Bloggin' Umholtz

Coal Cracker, Ridge Runner, Flatlander, Oh My!

OK, so life takes some crazy twisting turns every now and then. That’s what keeps it interesting. I’m sitting here on this fine early autumnal morning (I know it’s still technically summer but I like the word autumnal and I figure we’re close enough.) wondering if I’m about to embark upon a new journey.

First, a little background.

I was born and raised up in northeastern PA in a small town sort of on the junction between the Poconos and the Endless Mountains. This is hard coal country (anthracite). Those of us that hail from that region affectionately refer to each other as coal-crackers.

Twenty-two years ago I moved to southwestern PA along the Allegheny Front. Out here we are referred to as ridge runners. So that makes me a coal crackin’ ridge runner and in my book, that’s a dangerous combination.

And now I’m waiting to hear if I’m about to embark on a journey that will take me to the topographically challenged home of the Flatlanders, Harrisburg, PA. I wonder how I’ll fit in? Do they even speak the same language in the Flatlands? Will they get excited when the moving van pulls up and the first thing off the back is my gunsafe? Will they let me put up a deer stand in the county park? And will it be okay for me to butcher my deer on the patio outside of my apartment?

And that’s another thing. I’ve owned the place I lived in for the past 20 years? And now, at least in the short term I’m looking at renting. The ironic part is that I’m also a landlord. While I’m living the life of a flatlander, I’ll also be managing a rental property up in the mountains of southwestern PA and helping out my folks in the northeastern part of the state. I’ll be getting periodic doses of Coal Cracker and Ridge Runner. Will that be enough to offset the influence of the Flatlands? Am I becoming the melting pot of PA? Maybe I should run for Governor.

I view the impending move (it’s not definite yet, I figure I’ll get the word just before the blizzard of ’06) with more than a little trepidation. The logistics alone will prove to be a nightmare, I’m sure. Then there’s new doctors, new grocery stores (What do flatlanders eat, anyway?) new auto mechanic and….and… (shudder)… finding new places to hunt and fish. And in the middle of all this I need to learn a new job.

Oh, the insanity of it all. Or as Hannibal Smith would say:

“I love it when a plan comes together!”