|Me and my boots! (Oh, and the governor|
there in the background)
I'm used to Arnold Schwarzenegger and Jerry Brown, with their super-sized egos playing limbo with the doorway to the publisher's conference room, while their hard-muscled body guards skulk in the lobby. Statesmen overseeing more than 38 million people (the population of Poland) in 58 counties and 29 area codes.
Comparatively, Delaware has fewer than a million residents -- about the same governed by the mayor of San Francisco -- who I ran into daily when I worked in City Hall covering the Board of Supervisors for the Chronicle. (And whose security detail includes my SF condo building's co-owner, who saved my life ... but I digress.)
Here, we've got three counties, ONE area code and no need to add letters to our six-digit license plates. (I bet if you check you can get your first name on a vanity tag.)
In short, it's hella fun!
Here's how the intro went, more or less:
Our exec editor: "This is Suzanne Herel, recently from San Francisco, but she's a native Delawarean ..."
Guv (interrupts): "Oh! Where did you grow up?"
JAG: "The Binns."
Guv: "The Binns! Did you know ..."
JAG: (Thinking: He's going to bring up Ken Burns)
Guv: "Ken Burns lived in The Binns?"
JAG: "Yes, three doors down. He played baseball in my backyard with my brothers."
(Sprite, sitting next to me, whispers, "You know Ken Burns?!")
Guv: "He comes back now and again, he just lived there for a short while ..."
JAG: "Yeah, I think he moved away when he was 12. ... And you went to Newark (High School) with my sister."
Guv: "She was in my class?"
JAG: "Yes. In fact, she was in here earlier this week. You've had two Herel women in one week!"
Guv: "My mom still lives in the Oaklands, I grew up in Windy Hills."
JAG: "Oh yes, of course."
Then we got on with our program.
You cannot swing a toothpick in this state without hitting someone who knows someone you know.