Native to Nowhere

September 1, 2009 § Leave a comment

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E.O. Schaub

You know, I’m starting to get the odd feeling that I’m not really from anywhere. I know that I’ve mentioned before the fact that, according to local lore here in the green mountains, you don’t get to be a “local” unless you were born here- period. Too bad kid- as the Hindus say- better luck next life.

On the other hand, it’s only a scant four-hour drive between here and the New York City suburb where I grew up, but I fit in there about as well as a… a …. a gooseberry in a half-caff iced latte moccacino.

So you can see my dilemma. My mother, lives in New York and calls herself a New Yorker- and she is. (Of course, you can have moved to New York from the Outer Flamblastic Nebula yesterday, have polka dotted skin, and speak only in homonyms, and still be considered a perfectly legitimate New Yorker.) But I’m pretty clearly not. How do I know? Well, I have this weird propensity to smile at people. And I have a bizarre aversion to having TVs shoved in my face everywhere I go. And I don’t swear nearly enough. So you can see I’m kind of stuck between a rock and a hard place. Or a farmstand and a Starbucks if you prefer. « Read the rest of this entry »

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