Tuesday Time-Waster: Small town living

I grew up in a very small town I know you’re thinking THAT kind of small, but that’s still too big. Try this: My graduating high school class had 51 students. See, that is what I mean by “small.”

Well, this link to “17 Things People Who’ve Ever Lived In A Small Town Understand” recently made the Facebook rounds among my high school’s alumni. (You see, in a small town, you know everyone in the high school, not just in your own class. You know everyone from all four years, and all of their parents.)

If I tried to comment only on the items in that list that were correct, this blog post of mine would go on for another 17 paragraphs. But here is my take on that link: We did not have Costco, and weren’t close enough to one to even consider getting a membership. Our “downtown” named Main Street, and that was it. High school dating wasn’t just awkward because you were friends with their ex — you were also friends with their siblings and parents. Visiting family in another city was so different that I never even realized that’s how many people live. Going for a drive was definitely an activity, and it got more exciting when a certain friend would lean over and press down on my leg that was on the gas pedal (platonic friend, and yes, I knew/know his sisters and parents and cousins and aunts and uncles).

Also, you’re big rivals with another small neighboring high school. BIG RIVALS. Like, you go paint “graffiti bridge” in their town before a football game, even though you know they’ll have it covered up immediately. However, if someone from their team is named Jason Sehorn and goes to play in the NFL and proposes to a gorgeous actress actress on Jay Leno’s show, you definitely claim him as your own. After all, he played at a community college where some of your classmates went. And if the little Black Bear Diner from that nearby town becomes a big chain, yep, you claim that as your own, too.