Friday, December 28, 2007

Ten Things I Learned In My First Semester Of College: Number 8—“In The County”

As I write this at approximately 8:15 on a Thursday morning, I can say with a grim certainty that I do not know exactly where I am. I know approximately: I am at a Holiday In Express somewhere near (or possibly within) Pocomoke City, MD, on the so-called DelMarVa Peninsula. I have a lovely view of the hotel parking lot and a KFC (no, I have not partaken, but I am guilty of a dalliance with a Popeye’s Chicken in Princess Anne last night). But, I don’t know anything more specific than that about my location on this crazy planet.

I know what some of you may be saying to yourselves at this point, dear readers, but it is not what you think. Indeed, your straitlaced buddy remains intact. This uncertainty is in no way due to my fist wild night of partying and drunkenness. I don’t know if I ever wish to have such a night given the anecdotes I have heard thus far in my college career. But that is a subject for another post.

I used to think I knew exactly where I was as all times, at least in America, but I was proven wrong (an experience I do not ever enjoy—perhaps one of my greatest flaws) earlier this year by some of my dorm neighbors. The short version is best presented in bullet-point form.

- Every physical point in my home state of Connecticut lies within the limits of a county.
- Every physical point within a county in Connecticut also lies within a town.
- Every physical point in the United States lies within the limits of a county.
- Every physical point in the United States does not lie within a town.
- Ergo, there are some (many, in fact) areas in the US that are not within the limits of a town.

To quote Eric Burdon, “this really blew my mind, the fact that me, an overfed [short]-haired leaping gnome should be” wrong. On that night, instead of doing my Calculus homework, I learned that people can actually live “in the county”—not within the limits of any town. It’s a depressing notion to me—not having a concrete town to call one’s own was obviously a big enough concern to Connecticut’s founding fathers, a fact that has not gone overlooked by yours truly—but to many, it’s the way things are. That the following sort of conversation can take place is a bit depressing:

- American A: Hello friend; you seem like an agreeable chap. How’s about let’s be chums, eh?
- American B: Agreed! Say, where are you from?
- A: (energetically) I live in the town of Avon, Connecticut.
- B: (depressed) Well gee, that’s nice…
- A: (puzzled) I say, friend, what seems to be the trouble?
- B: (stifling tears) I…I live in an…(sniffles) unincorporated area! (cue dramatic music, B breaks down in sorrow)
- A: Oh me, what a shame! (fades to black)

This brief dramatization hopefully gives some idea of my own perspective on towns, etc. I personally hope I’ll always live in an incorporated area. Subject to the lawlessness of the open frontier (not really), I just don’t know if I could survive.

No lyrical selection today.

—12/27/07

NOTE TO READERS: Please let me know what you think of these posts through comments (you can submit anonymously if you wish). If I'm boring you to tears, please let me know.

2 comments:

Juicy said...

dude, isn't having a county to call your own just as good as having a town, and it's just really a matter of semantics?

and you didn't answer the real questions presented by this blog post: 1. Why are you at a holiday inn in MD? and, most importantly, 2. why are you awake and blogging at 8am?

OSK said...

Yeah not having a town probably isn't that big of a deal, because you probably still have a home community which is just the same. I'm also interested in what Juicy's interested in.

And if you were boring us to tears, we wouldn't still be reading your blog...I think.