Here I am, with the bright idea Texans could learn something from New Yorkers. I think I must be crazy.
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Here I am, with the bright idea Texans could learn something from New Yorkers. I think I must be crazy.
I think native Texans would most likely grasp what I’m about to speak of, but I can’t imagine native New York Citiers could. It’s the words Home and Hometown. When I think of those words, I am thinking I know all about a sizable chunk of acreage, how its terrain lies, what neighborhoods are located where in relation to the others. I think I know the rudiments of the ideologies of each neighborhood and how those various ideologies blend to create an image of the “hometown.” In every neighborhood, I know or know of families there. I think of how I know the histories of the buildings of the entire downtown district and many other structures scattered around the locale. At lastly, when I stroll through the city cemetery, so many stones bear surnames that ring familiar. I know how various generations had some kind of input to this thing called Hometown and can visualize how it spins on an axis of past, present and future. I can feel intimate with the entirety of Hometown because so much of its past/present/future flows through me and around me. I just can’t imagine how the words Home and Hometown stimulate faster, warmer heartbeats in the bosom of a native New York Citier. Or perhaps I harbor a kind of prejudice that has no name.