I’m From A Quaint Children’s Book Town Where Everything’s A Bit Odd. Please Do Not Vacation Here.
BY DAISY POLKADOTS
Purple rainclouds. Dogs wearing mittens. Austere buildings where silly things go on inside. With a population of just over 6,000, Birthdayville is an idyllic place to grow up. I should know — I was born and raised there.
My family’s roots run deep in this sleepy town, stretching back to my great grandfather, Hollis Polkadots. My mother runs a store where they have just one of each thing. My father is the zoning commissioner. I’ve made my life here, too, proud to pour back into the community that’s given me so much. It’s a beautiful gem with a rich history. And I’m imploring you not to come.
Because while it may look harmless on Instagram, the impact of tourism on Birthdayville has been devastating.
Every year travelers come by the vanload to live out a fantasy based on movies and social media. But the resulting strain on our natural resources makes it hard for even locals to enjoy what we have: cotton candy shortages, missing buttons, price gouging by ruthless galosh resellers. They had to cancel the annual boat race because there were too many paper catamarans in the canal.
Friends I grew up with are having to consider moving because they can’t afford housing, driven high by out-of-towners snatching up food-shaped homes and turning them into trendy rentals.
But doesn’t it help our local econom — ? Wrong again. The ceaseless demand for pre-packaged experiences has just introduced new inequities to our humble hamlet. Upon graduation, young people face a job market where the only option is to embed in some aspect of our towering hospitality industry: hotel worker, cupcake guide, puddle-jumping instructor.
The Birthdayville of my youth is one where families unicycle down the street and rainbow sprinkles dot the coastline. It was a special place. Thanks to the grinding plow of capitalism, it’s quickly become one I don’t recognize.
So please, when you’re deciding where to vacation this year, do not come here. If you really want to experience that BDV magic, become a champion of our culture. Support our heritage industries by shopping small. Read up on our history — there are many books about it, in fact a whole series (and two computer games accessible via PC emulator). Make a bowl of our world-famous marshmallow soup.
Because as the old adage goes: if everyone has craft felt with tulle overlay, no one does.
