Scranton: anything can happen
A non-Office member's look at real life in the Electric City
March 12, 2008
Jillian Snyder
Before Dunder-Mifflin ever graced the screen of Thursday night television, there was Scranton. It seemed that for a long time nobody really cared much for this little valley city; it’s been in a steady decline since the coal mines, the town’s main economic staple, closed down in the 1960s. However, when The Office began its run in 2005, this gem of northeastern Pennsylvania went from coal mine to gold mine, a shift that I will never comprehend. Why? Simply because I am from Scranton.
Well, let me be a bit clearer: I grew up a half hour south of Scranton, but the city contained everything from my dentist to the closest McDonald’s for at least a decade. Scranton never meant much to me – the city was a remnant from my parents’ era, complete with neighbourhoods still segregated by nationality to plastic-coated couches. In fact, when several of my high school friends decided to move there for university, I bid them well and headed west. When it seemed that I could now identify my geographical point of reference as Scranton rather than New York City (my prior point of reference before the advent of The Office), I decided to do some research to try and delineate between Hollywood’s interpretation of Scranton and that of my own. With a bit of help from Lindsey Meade, a recent grad student from the University of Scranton and hippest person I know, I set off on a quest for the “real” Scranton.
“The main thing you should know about Scranton,” Lindsay said, “is that when they say in The Office that everything in Scranton is a little slower, they’re right. That’s the way we like it here.”
It’s true. Most Scrantoners are remnants from the city’s past investment in anthracite coal – the only remainders of which are the Lackwanna Coal Mine tour and Mr. Adomiak’s stories in Grade 5 about schools that would sink into the hollow mines.
Because of this frozen past veneer, as Lindsey tells me, the people of Scranton rally over the small events such as changing their slogan from “Scranton: The Electric City” to “Scranton: Anything Can Happen” or following the minor league sports teams. You can even find their city council meetings with some of their more notorious characters on YouTube.
Here’s a hint for those looking for eats: if the staff at Dunder-Mifflin think they’re going to Chili’s for lunch, they’re going to be driving for awhile. There are no Chili’s in the area. You’re going to have to just scope out the scene elsewhere. Lindsey (and my mom) recommend the Banshee – an authentic Irish pub with slow service, low lighting and good ale. I can tell you that Jim and Pam, if they really are in Scranton, have been there. And when it’s closing time, one can preview another Scranton classic – the overwhelming scent of donuts from the giant Krispy Kreme factory nearby.
Another important tidbit about Scranton is that people with names such as Michael Scott, Dwight Schrute and Pam Beesly would not be able to celebrate the city’s most important holiday with a clear conscience – St. Patrick’s Day. The city is well-known for its prevalent Irish-Catholic population, so much so that during the annual St. Patrick’s Day parade, the city swells four times its normal size. In fact, the Irish holiday is so important that a few years ago when it took place on a Friday during Lent (traditionally a day when Catholics don’t consume meat) the honourable Bishop Joseph Martino – the first non Irish-Catholic Bishop to ever grace the Scranton diocese – granted a dispensation for the faithful to eat their corn beef and cabbage on the holiday.
A few final notes: don’t expect to find Dwight cultivating beets or shooting a crossbow anywhere nearby. The only cultivation in the valley these days is that of wind power in the form of mills that cover the surrounding hills like giant alien invaders. In addition, crossbow hunting is illegal in Pennsylvania. And, I hate to let anyone down, but there is no real Dunder-Mifflin. However, there is a Scranton, the former Electric City and a city I feel proud to designate as “close to my home.”
Now you go...
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