How Come Everyone’s So Hard on Seattle?

“They have head coaching jobs in New York, Miami… and one in Seattle that comes with a house in Pudget Sound.”
“Pyuget Sound.”
“… Pyuget Sound.”

That’s the opening dialogue of Season 1, Episode 5, Friday Night Lights, between Eric Taylor and his daughter Julie. She’s in the backseat, getting all giddy over the thought of leaving Texas, but he can’t pull his head or his heart from Dillon.

“Do they even have football in Seattle?” his wife asks.
“Not the same thing,” he replies.

What is it with the relentless Seattle jokes? Sure, Julie wants to live there, and the show momentarily glorifies it, but then it’s pulled away. “Yea, like a city with a team that wears navy blue and seaweed green can actually have real football…“

NBC loves to play with Seattle like that. They always have. Even when they finally set a show there, with Fraser, it was more of a running coincidence that the Space Needle or Pike Place Market would be featured in the background. When their 17,000th show is set in Manhattan or (even worse) Los Angeles, we have to see Central Park, Beverly Hills, Greenwich Village, the Staples Center, and the Empire State Building like we’ve never seen them before.

Americans love to play with Seattle.

It’s that faaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrr away city in the Northwest, too far from thought even they they also get national television (weird, huh?). Even when it’s brought up, it’s met with a swift, “Well, it rains there.”

Those Seattle ninnies. They like Starbucks. They like Japanese ballplayers. They eat garlic fries and they lives in fancy lofts and wear skinny jeans. Or, is it ripped jeans?

Even when a film is set in Seattle, you know it’s really shot in Vancouver. Maybe they made a day trip over the border to catch the Needle or the EMP, or something.

There’s the way Seattle had its SuperSonics stolen from it in the dead of night, and then folks had to watch them become the best young team in the NBA, while ESPN still airs shows about how the Baltimore Colts were originally transported against their will to Indianapolis.

Now, Seattle is the new Winnipeg. Every day, there’s a new rumo(u)r about how the Sonics are coming back, or an NHL team is entering, but you always feel like it’s only there as a tasty dish that will never arrive at the table. But, Seattle, they can take it. They always do.

How about that Chrysler commercial, the one that plugs Detroit and its American Motor City bravado? “We’re not New York City, or the Windy City, or Sin City… and we’re certainly no one’s Emerald City.” Ouch. I think I felt that deep in my heart, next to the lodged Japa Dog.

The fact is, Seattle hears it all. They don’t like it. They do news segments on how Los Angeles can suck their sunny weather – when they get it – and they take special pride in all those mid-90′s moments when the Mariners occasionally whupped the Yankees. They gloat when they dine in fancy stakehouses or trendy coffee shops, and they love their new high rise apartment. Because, damn, that harbo(u)r does look good from up there.

So, if they can hear it and they don’t like it, then why do Americans continue with the abuse? Why the jokes? Is it just easier for them? Is it easy to assault a place called the “Emerald City” because that just sounds pussier than The City of Tall Shoulders? Do Detroit and Cleveland sleep better knowing they can make fun of their cappuccino suckers and their rich living rooms and not suffer any consequence?

Who knows? Until then, keep living, Seattle. And, don’t tell anybody else how great you are.