Category Archives: One in a Thousand

Proud To Be A Vermontian

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E.O. Schaub

I don’t know if this is a true story, or the stuff of urban legend, but my good friend in Dayton, Ohio tells me this: on election day her mother-in-law was volunteering for the Obama campaign making calls to make sure people remembered to vote. The woman next to her called a couple who seemed on the elderly side and perhaps slightly hard of hearing.

Yes, the elderly woman said, they were going to vote, leaving in just a few minutes in fact. Who, if they didn’t mind the volunteer asking, were they planning to vote for? “Harold, (or, insert your favorite anecdotal name here)” the woman called to her husband, “Who’re we votin’ for again?”

“Votin’ for the knee-gar.” came the called out reply.

This is one of those unique stories that induces the strange feeling of wanting to laugh and put your head in your hands at the same time.

It also points out the nature of progress: never as straightforward as we might think. Rather, it is a circuitous process, cyclical, incremental- always two steps forward, one step back. Not only can you have the same country jubilantly elect the first African-American president and still harbor a tremendous well of racial prejudice… you even find those two powerfully conflicting ideas represented within a single citizen. Continue reading Proud To Be A Vermontian

A Familiar Question

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oneinathousandlogoE.O. Schaub

A few nights ago a friend was over with her kids and the inevitable question arose once again: “So, how did you end up… here?”

If you move to the middle of nowhere, prepare to ask, and be asked, this question a lot- by people who live next door, by your friends and family, by the guy in the elevator, (you know, when you go to big, fancy cities where they have elevators.) I don’t imagine folks ask this question, in exactly this way, in say, Cleveland. It’s as if living in a town of a thousand or so inhabitants, where a substantial percentage are self-employed and/or working a multiplicity of jobs to piece together a livelihood is a sort of personal eccentricity along the lines of talking to the contents of your refrigerator or of keeping a monkey for a pet.

I suppose I could skip the rambling story, with its too-many details, and simply say: “Fate.” Or: “Luck.” Or, worse yet: “Destiny!”

Anything, anything but the usual story- blah blah blah, my parents came here on their honeymoon/my family came here for vacations/my future husband and I decided to get married here and whoops! Found The Perfect House in about ten seconds flat when we decided to look- no, not that. Continue reading A Familiar Question