Thursday, November 8, 2012

Day Five: My Hometown

How does one decide what their hometown is? I moved around a bit growing up, born one place, went to most of school another, and ended my high school years at another. But when someone asks me what my hometown is, I usually tell them: Cassopolis Michigan.

I probably shouldn't be proud of this fact. It's quite possibly the tiniest town ever. Literally, only one stoplight. In the whole town. And I think it may be there more for show than anything. But I do have some really great memories from here.

We lived on a small "farm" but really all we grew was dandelions and all we raised was cats. And one time chickens and a rooster from hell. It was pretty isolated from the world, with awesome trails through woods and a driveway so long that our parents had to stand at the end of it with us to get picked up by the bus. It was epically awesome as a kid. So much space to play, and secret places to hide. We even had this little basketball court that my brother lived on, pretending he was Michael Jordan.  (He had a great imagination for a chubby white kid.)

As we got older, I remember wishing I lived in town. One of my best friends lived within walking distance from the high school, and we spent many an afternoon walking through the winding lake streets to go to her house to listen to punk rock music and discuss our love of our friend's older brothers.  I learned to drive on that crazy long driveway, and I learned very important lessons in off-roading in the woods by my house where they were building a sub division. (for example, don't try to pull the cute boy's jeep out of the future pond with your daddy's Jimmy. You will both end up stuck, and in big trouble)

I do really love that little town. With it's drastically diverse people. The "lake" people, the "townies", the "farmers". It's tiny little downtown strip, it's beautiful country roads. It was a great place to grow up, and I am kind of proud to call it my "hometown".

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