We've all heard tales of weird folks living in Montana ; the Unabomber, the liberty armies, the poor sods stuck in the Fed Witness Protection Program.

I guarantee you the bulk of folk living in Montana are friendly, mannered, are sensibly sane, and will go out of the way to lend a hand to strangers.

Now, I'm a ruthless Californian transplanted in Montana. I won't help but feel suspicious of useful strangers.

Oh, the clerk wants to volunteer the use of his van to haul a new desk to my home, does he? Back off. I purchased a desk at the local Staples, and then realized I had no way to get it to my loft. The clerk offered to haul it to my place, free and after work hours. He delivered the desk as guaranteed, expounded, "Glad I could help", and left. The clerk's excellent perspective is often found thru Montana. Even the youngsters are fairly mannered and beneficial. After 3 years of living here, though , I remain scared. You can take the girl out of California, but you can't take the pepper spray out of the girl. The communities in this state are heavily family-oriented.

Community BBQs are held in a park near my home in the summer. 4th of July picnics, duck races ( don't ask ), real church socialsif the event is good family fun it occurs here. I have more born-again Christian kin in this state than should be legally permitted.

A relative is mostly attached to whatever community event is being held. If I attend a single one of these events, I'm going to be predicted to attend each single event following. If I fail to do so, all of my relations will knock on my door at the same time to discover why.

The above is an illustration of how closely knit the communities are. The general public here are hardworking, conservative, bible-thumpers. The main subjects of conversation are : huntin' and fishin', church, youngsters, family sometimes, and ranching. For those among us more liberal minded, not married, without kids, not ranchers, and disapprove of huntin' and fishin' any chance at conversation is restricted. The crazies Montana is feted for, though , do exist. A massive muscular man lumbered into the local humane society while I was latterly there. He was wearing a leather and wool coat over his flannel shirt and jeans. The coat smelled as if he just peeled it off the back of a buffalo. He asked for his dog in a snarling voice, a frightful gleam in his eyes. His hunting dog was brought in from the back cages. The lady behind the desk said to the man he wanted to purchase a license for his dog. The person burst into an obsessed speech about how licensing dogs was another trick by the noxious presidency to flatten our liberty. He discussed something about mind-control. His muscles appeared to grow together with the frightful light in his eyes. I rimmed away from the person while I filled out a form for a new license for my dog. Each lady behind the desk kept a respectful grin fixed on her face. The older woman kept her hand on the telephone. The person finally grabbed a license form and stalked out of the office, poor victimised demon, and took his stink with him. What are you able to say after an exit like that? I'm hoping the large guy is ecstatic pawing the ground with his fellow buffalo men.

Montana's weirdoes come in all shapes, sizes, smells, and personalities, but then folks do all around the world.

God bless the weirdoes for making life colorful.