OC Homecoming

by Annie Scott
October 16, 2009

Here’s what’s going on in a land far away but not so far apart from the Mitten …

A few weeks ago, I thought I was going to a wedding in Orange County. Turns out I was in Oakland County.

Half of the wedding guests were friends and relatives of the bride, a college friend from Oakland County now living in Orange County. It was a fun-loving crowd hailing from places like Rochester, Northville, Farmington, Pontiac and Bloomfield Hills and representing various sectors of Michigan’s diminished work force, from healthcare to large corporations, PR firms, community organizations and, of course, every imaginable part of the auto industry.

Surrounded by “my people,” it was a prime opportunity to get caught up on the latest in my home state.

The ease of Midwest dialogue is always a breath of fresh air in the Southern California smog. We started the weekend as strangers, but as soon as I said, “My family’s originally from Royal Oak,” we became instant friends with much to discuss.

One fascinating conversation was with a longtime Big 3 executive. He shared his outlook for both his company and the automakers as a whole. He was realistic but surprisingly positive. His company’s progress in producing top-quality new models was very encouraging. But he made it painfully clear that they’re facing formidable challenges: how to woo and convert those who’ve had bad experiences, how to streamline, how to regain control, and on and on.

Hearing his unabridged side of the automakers’ story was invaluable. It was unfiltered truth from someone who was fighting Detroit’s uphill battle from the trenches. I’d never imagined having such a conversation out here in the sunshine bubble.

Many of the younger guests had stayed in Michigan after college. They saw their families regularly and were enjoying successful careers in nursing, engineering, marketing and teaching. Some were proud new homeowners. A well-adjusted, well-educated, well-mannered, impressive group. The sort that major media don’t seem to believe exists in places like Michigan these days. I wished they could be the topic of a special report — The Bright Rising Tide Amidst Michigan’s Struggles.

Other guests’ post-college stories were more similar to my own: graduated from a Michigan university, left the state for a job, now living in a big city and nostalgic about the state they’d once been itching to leave. We discussed the feasibility of returning to raise families. We acknowledged the mix of pride, trepidation, sadness and determination that accompanies our generation’s responsibility to help get Michigan’s economy back up and running.

And, inevitably, we talked sports.

The morning of the wedding, the bride and I went down to have breakfast at the hotel restaurant. In the middle of this upscale Orange County establishment we found a raucous gathering of Michiganders taking over the restaurant, loudly watching the U-M football game, a shouting sea of maize and blue. I thought I was in a dream. Since I’ve gotten used to watching games as a one-person cheering section, it was heavenly to be surrounded by others who shared my passion for (and frustration with) Michigan football.

The weekend’s most amusing element: for many of the 20-something Michiganders in attendance, this was their first visit to California. Hearing their initial impressions of the area, the people and what it must be like to live here was priceless — and dead on.

“It’s really cool here … but weird. Do you like the fact that it’s sunny all the time? I think I’d miss the snow days.”

“I love it out here! [polite pause] It’s just a little creepy how nice the weather is every single day. And how pretty everyone is. I’m already developing a Pale & Ugly Complex after only two days.”

It was absolutely fascinating to spend time with such a broad cross-section of Michigan residents, past and present. The more reserved, cool and confident Southern California natives seemed alternately amused, intrigued and confused by the forward honesty, abundant self-deprecatory humor and sheer volume so frequently employed by their Midwest counterparts. But everyone got along splendidly and learned a bit about how another part of the country lives.

As great as life can be out here in the perma-sunshine of “America’s Finest City,” I will never be able to find a substitute for the warm, down-to-earth people of the Mitten state.

Clearly, this is my nostalgic time of year. Every October I think about my decision to move here. In the midst of California’s fire season, I lament missing yet another gorgeous Michigan fall, where the only “fire” consuming the trees is one of vivid autumn colors. No substitute for that, either.

It was heartwarming to have a little piece of Michigan arrive in Orange County; relaxing, too, in so many ways, from being able to say “pop” without getting alien stares to having the chance to hear my own accent amplified in surround sound, to getting to learn the great stories of more fascinating, good-hearted Michiganders.

It felt like homecoming.

Annie Scott lives and works in San Diego and sends dispatches back to her beloved Michigan.