My Binghamton Manifesto

For those of you who are unfamiliar with Binghamton, NY and those who are natives and haven't given much thought to where you are from, will inevitably return to and live, I have taken it upon myself to give a factual based overall analysis of the city, it's inhabitants and the social activity. All of which has molded the foul-mouthed, alcohol crazed walking nightmare I have become today.

Binghamton, NY is located approximately 250 miles from New York City and is nestled closely to the Pennsylvania border. It, like many feeder cities to major metropolitan areas, was once the home of a bustling and thriving industrial scene that has long since passed. Its major exports are alcohol, depression and insanity. Its major imports are drugs, criminals and those who have no idea how they got here. It is the home of famed author Rod Serling, creator of the Twilight Zone, and boasts to be "The Carousel Capital Of The World". The city also boasts the invention of the spiede, a piece of chicken marinated in Italian dressing. Binghamton, NY in 2004 had an approximate population 45,864 people. 45,864 of these people are absolutely insane. With that said, we will now focus on the inhabitants of this bizarre land.

I can say, in my travels of the greater United States, there is not anything quite like an inhabitant of Binghamton, NY. When I say 45,864 of the people who live here are crazier than shit house rats, I'm being polite. When I say one of Binghamton's major exports are insanity, I'm being very polite. Some of the craziest motherfuckers I've ever talked to hail from this city. Which you can find even in the style of clothing some Binghamtonians decide to wear, on a regular basis. In Binghamton, it is considered trendy and fashionable to wear, I've seen with my own two eyes, fag-tight high water slacks (that's right, slacks) a tattered and soiled Dale Earnhart, Jr. jacket to go complete with an anti-hygiene kit consisting of abstaining from toothbrush and toothpaste, washing your hair in raw sewage and seeing how much dirt one can collect underneath their nails. There is a certain rustic charm that comes with a true Binghamton psychosis. This isn't your regular, run of the mill, insanity. Imagine, on a regular basis, during the summer, seeing someone wearing a ski mask and a winter jacket. Or better yet, envision driving along with your friends, pulling up to a stop sign and having a woman in a motorized wheelchair pull out into the crosswalk, flash a "peace sign" and continue along. I can't even make this shit up if I tried. The events taking place alone can just truly boggle the mind.

Just driving along the streets of Binghamton you can find pure entertainment and random activity at the drop of a hat. For example, one day I was driving home from a 5 month Binghamton hiatus and passed by my former high school. Across the street from my high school is the Department of Social Services (DSS), where some high profile residents dish dirt, gossip, etc. It's almost like a homeless persons country club. Well, as I drive by, I see a tattered looking gentleman walk out the door, and vomit all over the sidewalk. Anywhere else, I would be shocked and amazed, in Binghamton; I call it "Monday". Another complete random occurrence that makes article note would be the "retard full sprint" I saw in the Oakdale Mall. I was on my lunch break from my NASCAR merchandising job (that's right, NASCAR, a black guy working for NASCAR...yet again, only in Binghamton) I saw a gentleman, who apparently drank a glass full of cerebral palsy, broke out into a full sprint in the middle of the mall, I was intrigued and tailed him. After about 60 yards, he slowed to a walk, and acted as though it did not happen. And yet, the strange part about it is that I'm actually proud to be from this city, and will defend it until my dying day.

A strange phenomenon the city instills in some is a bizarre sense of pride for hailing from Binghamton. Despite its lack of culture, terrible education system, racial insensitivity (with an 81.7% white population, how can you not), awful job prospects, terrible political moves, family influenced decision making affecting the entire city and awful, awful weather conditions, I am proud to have grown up in the city. With all of these terrible shortcomings, I, in my uncanny ability for survival, managed to brilliantly navigate through all of them; making me the dynamic individual I am today. The survival techniques I've learned from Binghamton are still with me today. When an outsider, or out of towner dares to insult my beloved city, I cut them off at the knees for speaking foul of my beautiful metropolis. Now you probably ask, "how can you insult the city you are from for the last 4 paragraphs, then turn around and silence someone else who does?" Because I'm from here, that's why. And besides, where else can you drink beers for $.10 on a Tuesday night, $.75 on a Wednesday night, and drink 2 for 1 on a Thursday night? Nowhere else, but Binghamton. Finally, in closing of my insane diatribe and tirade, I will summarize what one can expect to see if visiting for the first time and some tips for survival and some neat ways to mingle with the natives.

--Everything you know about normal behavior and activity, invert it, multiply it by 10, throw in a couple of "the immigrants gotta go" and "you watchin the races this Sunday" and that will give you a general idea of what to expect in daily interaction

--Do not, under any circumstances, ask any 21-28 year old living in Binghamton "where they see themselves in 10 years." This will lead to either an argument, physical altercation or terrible story in which you know is not true

-- If you find yourself downtown at any point in time, to fit in, just ask someone "So, do you know like ". If you are unsure where to find such a person, just look in the blotter.

--Don't ask about "fun stuff" or "stuff" or anything involving "stuff". You'll be in for more than you're bargaining for.

If you have any disagreements, complaints or shit to say about my Manifesto, fuck off...I'm from Binghamton and I've eaten enough spiedes, drank enough 40's and Natty Ice to drown a 50 year old alcoholic, rode on enough Carousels and been exposed to enough pollution, ignorance and bullshit, that I really don't care what you think.