Oh give me a home ...

My dear old friend, Vol Abroad raised an interesting question in a post the other day: What kind of Tennessean are you? Basically it was about how she has lived all over the world, but still sort of considers herself to be a Tennessean -- at least I think that's how it turned out. Anyway, this is something I've thought about in the past and I figure I can steal (er, borrow) a topic from her. You don't mind, do you, Vol?

Just what am I? I am a native Tennessean (though I was born in the hospital in Waynesboro, not Lawrenceburg -- something I've NEVER forgiven my mother for) and I lived there continuously until age 18. Was it just 18 years? It seemed as if high school alone lasted 18 years. Anyway, I then went off to college for 4 years (it is possible to complete college in 4 years -- yes, anonymous commenter, I know you finished even sooner). Toward the end of that time, I had almost thought of myself as a Mississippian. Yeah, insert snide comments if you'd like, but I enjoyed MS. Of course I was in Oxford, the GREATEST town in the world. Still, I moved off to AL before I really became a full Mississippian. In fact, I left the state without developing an irrational hatred of either Southern Miss or Mississippi State. That will get me uninvited to Jackson, I know, but it's true.

So, I then found myself in AL. I have mixed feelings about my time at Bama. I waver between "I hated it" and "I HATED IT!" Of course grad school was so horrible that I might have hated living anywhere during that time period. Those of you who were with me there should recognize my two biggest complaints -- it was HOT and the town absolutely REEKED of some mysterious hot tar or burning tires type smell. Oh, but it had Bama Football, you might say. All I can say in response to that is, "Have you ever lived in Tuscaloosa when the herd descended?" Now I realize your feelings about the arrival of the Bama nation would be different from mine if you'd spent the whole night before getting "liquored up" in preparation for the game. I'm talking about just trying to survive daily life with 7.2 million crazed folks chanting ROLL TIDE, ROLL TIDE, ROLL TIDE, ... over and over as if they'd been recruited by some sports-obsessed monastic cult. Anyway, not fond memories.

Gosh, looking over the previous couple of grafs, you'd never believe that I'm a huge sports fan, huh? Oh well, I digress.

So, anyway, I next moved to Huntsville. Maybe it was because I had a job, but I really liked it there. It's a good town and though the locals complain, there is a good bit to do. Plus, Nashville, Birmingham, and Chattanooga are all within easy driving distance. I think it was during my time in Huntsville that I began to think of myself as an Alabamian. Actually, that's not true. Huntsvillians take pride in remaining apart from the rest of the state, so I guess I became comfortable with the idea of being a Huntsvillian.

My thinking on this, however, has taken another hit lately as I relocated to Decatur. So far I really like Decatur, but it's hard for me to get used to thinking of myself as a Decaturite (?) rather than a Huntsvillian. In some ways Decatur reminds me of Oxford -- well, Oxford without a major university or Square Books. So, in closing, I'm not sure what kind of Tennessean or Alabamian I am. Sorry, Vol Abroad, but I'll never be an Orange Tennessean as I find those folks just as obnoxious as the monastic elephants. Still, I think I'll always be a Tennessean at heart, but I am getting used to being (bite my tongue) an Alabamian. If nothing else, I have this

in Decatur.