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A San Diego Zonie clears up inaccuracies in Vyuz' portrayal of Zonies 

San Diego--I am a Zonie. That’s right, born and raised and proud of it. Truth is, I didn’t even know I was a “Zonie,” that we had our own special nickname, until I moved here last summer. I made the mistake of not blending in the sunscreen on my back or asking a nice gentleman to do so, and ended up with a white hand print outlined by red skin. This faux pas is less about being a Zonie and more a cautionary tale about applying sunscreen while intoxicated. However, the incident did introduce me to the term “Zonie,” since I was repeatedly pointed at, laughed at, and called “stupid Zonie” with a sad shake of the head.

But I do take issue with some of the broad generalizations that Mr. Swarthmore insists are key characteristics of Zonies ["Forget the southern border—it's our eastern one that needs attention"] and have taken the liberty of explaining some of our habits.

Zonies don’t like to be outdoors and we always sit inside near the closest air conditioning vent.

Actually, we like being outdoors, but the summer in Arizona is grossly hot and no one in their right mind sits outside. Sometimes we forget that we can sit outside in this fine city and, for lack of a better term, not sweat our asses off. We like the beach, and you’ll find plenty of us there. Last time I checked, the beach is, in fact, outdoors. Oh, and before I moved here I didn’t really own any long sleeved shirts because YOU DON’T NEED THEM WHEN IT’S 110 OUTSIDE.

We complain about there not being any good Mexican restaurants, but then go to Chili’s.

It’s not so much about the food per se but who’s serving it. My friend Andrew (and fellow Zonie) points out, “You know when you’re in Arizona and you get a burrito and some really cool Mexican guy hands it to you and makes your day – you don’t get that in SD. It’s all lowlifes and fat stumpy women.”

Andrew is not the epitome of political correctness but I must agree. My favorite Mexican joint in Tucson used to let my drunken sorority sisters and I go behind the counter and assist with making our burritos. I assure you that at 3:00 a.m., this is a thrill. In fact, we went back at Homecoming, older, wiser, and possibly even more intoxicated and they let us do it again. I’ve asked to do this at Santana’s and was turned down. So, not cool.

We can’t handle hot salsa.

Au contraire. My amigo Rob (again, another Zonie – we’re everywhere) loves hot salsa but attests that, “As far as salsa goes, I've never seen anything in the entire state of California that could make me sweat like the salsa that I found in Tucson.” As a side note, since we’re discussing Mexican food, your margaritas here suck—they really do. I find this intriguing because there are no less than five freakin’ bars by every beach with “margarita” in the name.

We don’t celebrate Martin Luther King Day.

Although it took us longer than just about every other state in the union, we do actually recognize it as a holiday now. Did I feel gypped as a child not getting this day off like all my cool cousins in Cali? No, my friends, because we have Rodeo Days! That’s right, an entire week dedicated to cowboys and animal cruelty. They even gave us days off so we could attend the rodeo and we didn’t even have to prove that we went!

Daylight Savings. We don’t do it and we don’t get it.

Frankly, it’s a little ridiculous. I just feel like I’m cheating when I change the time on my clock. I don’t think it’s my right to screw with father time. Fellow Zonie Rob agrees: “I think that the daylight savings program is a sham. Arizona is the last of the states to remain self conscious and avoid falling under the emotional rule of the federal government. You see, it’s all a conspiracy to control the moods of Americans. I know that I feel differently when I get out of work and it's dark outside than I do when the sun is still up, and that should be a slow progression, not overnight.” Rob is strange but he’s not a conspiracy theorist and Daylight Savings is, well, lame.

We all like the Gin Blossoms and this is only band to ever come out of Arizona.

We feel the same way about the Gin Blossoms that you all do, that they’re a moderately crappy mid-90’s band, but we can’t help but sing along with “Hey Jealousy.” Don’t even try to pretend you don’t know the words to that song. By the way, Jimmy Eat World is from Arizona and I have seen (gasp) Californians at a Jimmy Eat World concert.

Zonies can’t drive and there are no tall buildings in Arizona.

Okay, I can’t really touch the not being able to drive thing as I’ve actually been at fault in two accidents since I moved here less than a year ago. I still have Arizona plates on my car and I do occasionally fear for my life when I make an illegal u-turn in rush hour traffic. I’ve seen the hatred in the eyes of my fellow drivers when they spy my plates. However, there are tall buildings in Arizona, lots of them. Phoenix is a big, big city – it even has paved roads and stoplights.

Hopefully, this has cleared up some myths. Arizona really doesn’t suck as much as you think. Besides, Andrew would like to remind you that “if Arizona sucks so much why do you send all of your beautiful women to not just one but two of our state colleges to get laid by Arizona men?” He’s from Arizona and his girlfriend is from California, and I think he’s on to something. Seriously, there are more Californians at ASU and U of A than there are Zonies in Mission Beach on July 4^th - promise.

I’ll leave you with a thought from Rob, “Maybe the crowd of ‘Zonies’ is more like the snowbirds that come to Arizona each winter. You’re happy to be rid of them, but hosting them is the price you pay for getting to look down your nose at them.”

You don’t gotta love us San Diego, but we’re not going anywhere.

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