don’t order a Coors in BUDland

My good pal Spencer recently got married. This meant I was trekking out to beautiful St. Louis, Missouri for the ceremony and reception. Spencer and I met a few years back when he was passing through LA as an intern for my company. He, myself, and another friend made an instant bond capitalizing on the sense of cynicism and sarcasm we all seemed to produce so fruitfully.

I pretend to admire a lot about Spencer, but one main thing has to be his constant courage in moving to new cities. Perhaps I really do envy this about him, but I’ve always been attached to the LA area since I moved here at age 10. This guy on the other hand has lived in: St. Louis, Denver, Bournemouth (UK), Los Angeles, San Francisco, and currently New York. This past weekend, I got to be the guest in his town, and meet his friends. Yes, it was delightful. And yes, it was a culture shock to experience the Mid West a la St. Louis flavor.

Immediately, when you leave LA, you’re surprised to hear that all the people you talk to , have absolutely NOTHING to do with entertainment and Hollywood. Here are some of the snapshots that can display lessons I’ve learned over my trip.

All Catholic churches look the same. Orthodox, Roman, Scientologist. Gold mosaic and lots of crosses, good stuff.

Buying a home in St. Louis requires cashing out some of your parents’ CDs, and then you’re good to go. Oh and I pay more than double their mortgage in RENT.

If capable, men will always fake attendance at the dinner table, in order to get more food.

food

You never want to order a bucket of Coors (even if on special) in front of St. Louis natives. This is the land of BUD.

Spencer, apparently, has little to no filter on friends in his life, and I know this since I got to spend a full day with all of them without his presence.