Conde Nast, publishers of Traveler magazine, recently released a reader's survey of the unfriendliest cities. Albany ranked seventh in the United States and 13th in the world.
That's right, in the world, putting us in the same jovial company as Moscow and Islamabad. I guess the readers answering the survey have never walked through Crossgates mall or Colonie Center, because the people who work at those malls' kiosks really want to strike up a conversation.
The magazine gave a possible explanation for Albany's appearance on the list, saying, "To be fair, Albany is better known as a through-station than a tourist destination."
Ouch. Now who's being unfriendly, Conde Nast?
The comments from readers answering the survey do little to shed light on the reason for Albany's unfriendly reputation. One reader described Albany as "dull." This from a person who has nothing better to do than fill out online surveys.
Another reader said we were unfriendly because Albany has lousy winter weather. That's like saying a restaurant's restroom is dirty because you don't like their food.
Wait a minute, that's not right. Dang. I've probably just lowered Albany's ranking a notch or two on Traveler magazine's annual list of "Cities With People Who Can Make Good Analogies."
It would be nice if the Albany area grabbed national headlines for something good. Not like a few months back, when an altercation between Sno Kone Joe and Mr. Ding-a-Ling put Gloversville's ice cream turf wars in the national spotlight and provided plenty of fodder for late night comedians. I wonder if there's connection between some people's willingness to come to blows over Good Humor bars and our area's supposed lack of good humor.
My theory first took hold last week when my daughter announced the ice cream truck was coming. Up until that point, I'd heard not one note of the old-timey calliope music that provokes a Pavlovian response in my children.
I, too, heard the strains of the ice cream truck. But, despite it being a warm August afternoon, the music being piped through our neighborhood by the siren of soft serve was "Jingle Bells," followed by "Oh Come, All Ye Faithful." When my daughter, torn between writing a letter to Santa and hitting me up for bomb pop money, asked why he was playing Christmas music, the only answer I could come up with was it was the driver's desperate attempt at maintaining sanity.
In years past, the ice cream truck would play the same song over and over. After hearing "She'll be Coming 'Round the Mountain" or "Yankee Doodle" 327 times in a row, I was often tempted to run to the end of my driveway, clutching wads of cash in an effort to bribe the driver to change his route. It was definitely a case of I scream, you scream, we all scream for him to stop playing the damn music.
Not to excuse their behavior, but it's no wonder that both Sno Kone Joe and the Mr. Ding-a-Ling driver ran into trouble with the law. After all, couldn't they claim the music made them do it?
It wouldn't be the first time the negative impact of our environment has been used to mitigate crime. The Twinkie Defense was based on the idea that a diet rich in junk food could make one act in an irrational manner. The same could be said for being forced to listen to ice cream truck music day in and day out. Call it the Nutty Buddy defense.
So, now that I'm convinced my theory is right, I'm patting myself on the back for my brilliant deductive reasoning skills. Too bad Conde Nast doesn't have a list for that.
Betsy Bitner is author of the blog lostintheadirondacks.com and a mystery writer. Her email address is bbitner1@nycap.rr.com.