The waving state
As I walk I wave. Many years ago I wrote a column about how Missourians wave more than any other people I know. I was out walking and was reminded of an event which happened to me while I was living in Utah. One day with my friend driving, we were returning from Wendover, Nevada after donating some money for those of you who win at the casinos. Believe me I am not one of them, winners I mean. We came up behind a car and I could see the Missouri plates. I said to my friend, "I bet I can get them to wave." He gave me kind of a funny look; read why bother? But that was his nature. So we got in the left lane of I-80, which is straighter than a straight pin for about 100 miles and he began to pass. When we got up next to the driver I waved, and they waved back. After all they were from Missouri.
I think if it was not that law that Show-Me-State be on the license plates, it could be changed to, "The Waving State." It is the home of people who like to wave and it is not out of necessity or anything, except that we are a friendly people. This reminds me of another story of when I came back to Missouri to see my kids when I lived in Salt Lake. I got to the rental car carrying two large and very heavy suitcases filled with gifts for my first grandchild. I was a bit concerned about lugging them into the rental car office at Kansas City International. An attendant said, "Let them on the curb mister, you are in Missouri, no one is going to take them." I did as he said and they were just were I left them when I got back. Things like this kind of make it proud for me to be a Missourian.
When I wrote the article years before, I talked about the types of waves I have seen. My favorite was a school teacher, who coming down the hill in Hopkins did it with both hands. Another is from an older man who made it look like a slow and stiff salute.
So my dream is to sponsor the Missouri wave contest. The rules are simple, there is a panel of judges and you give your best wave. You are judged on enthusiasm, originality, and sincerity. You are then scored like in high diving or figure skating at the Olympics, by a panel of judges who have studied the art of waving for years and are pure Missourians. This is only second to my chocolate chip cookie contest. I get to keep the cookies.
I think waving is what sets Missouri apart in some respect. We are special at it and I believe if you are a bad waver you should move to another state. I am also tempted to believe that waving should be on the driving examine. I mean even in this state the highway patrol will wave at you. In other states I have lived, they all look like they have to go to the toilet and can’t get it out. This reminds me of our interview with Immigration and Homeland Security a few weeks ago in Kansas City. Nadia and I prepared for the interview being told that the inspectors had no sense of humor, were trying to trick you and deny the application and you had better be on guard even to answer personal questions; like I mean, very personal questions. When we left after forty minutes, I ask Nadia and Kate, "What happened in there?" It was no more than a friendly chat. Yes, of course she waved good-bye.
Nadia is very surprised by the friendliness of Americans. I mean she thinks it is Americans, but what she really doesn’t know it is Missourians. Missouri isn’t looked upon by many as the most pleasant place to live. I think we have something special. (Wave good-bye!)
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