Nostalgia

It is no big secret that I miss my home state, and my little corner of that state in particular. The east coast is a perfectly lovely place but even after living here for seven years I still feel like I have been dropped on the surface of an alien planet.


There is just something about small town America that is unlike anything else. There is this comforting sameness about life there that cannot be found in a city. While there are changes over time, it all just feels the same. For example, my little hometown of Cortland, NE has changed a bit in the decade since I last lived there. There are new people in town, a few more businesses, and the railroad no longer winds through town (which means that I can no longer tease my friend about living on the wrong side of the tracks, damn it!). But the things that really make the place unique haven't changed much at all. You can still get freshly backed cookies in exchange for gossip at the post office on Tuesday, Mr. Sullivan still cuts his grass religiously (even if it does not need it), the crazy ex-hippies still live in the bright blue house with the yellow trim and 10, 000 wind chimes on the front porch, and the farmers still gather in the local tavern every morning for coffee and the minimalistic conversation indicative of their breed.


I miss living in a place where the normal rhythm of life comes as easily as breathing. Where everyone knows you, your entire family (including your third cousin once removed), what car you drive and even the color of your sofa. It can be a bit cloying, but in the end it feels more like a strange little family. They exasperate you at times with their nosiness, but when something bad happens they have your back. And that is really what I miss most of all. My strange little extended family full of obsessed grass-cutting old men and ex-hippies with appallingly bad taste.