Ich bin nicht zuhause

I am currently visiting my mother in the town where I misspent my youth, but nevertheless grew and lived for 11 years.

Although mild by Northeastern standards, the winters here tend to be perpetually damp, overcast, and ennui-inducing for non-natives. Having lived elsewhere for exactly half of my life, I naturally have lost my immunity. Usually I spend the "free time" I take away from work and my regular life wandering around the house, dicking around on the internet, and/or looking out a window with nothing of particular interest in mind. When I imagine that today could be my last day on earth, I get even more depressed knowing that I am wasting yet more precious hours of life - hours that someone who really is dying might kill to have.

My mother, when she checks to see if there's anything new on the internets, will probably make some sardonic quip about my posting this. Unfortunately for me, I don't have the benefit of a 2509 mile (4037 km/2180 nautical mile) guilt buffer.

Some things that this small city is or has been noted for over the years:

the development of the square tomato, and many other plants and/or animals genetically modified for efficient mass production

its family-friendly community with excellent schools and abundant recreations-of-choice

questionable medical experimentation on primates

cows with rubber plugs in their sides [#7]

environmentally-conscious, culturally-aware pro-activism that seeks to foster diversity, understanding, and tolerance, citywide

its nearly 75% white (Non-Hispanic) residential population - beating national, state, and county averages!

a coven of Wicca practitioners

an alarmingly high incidence of alcoholism among tweens

Whether they wish to or not, friends such as Kurt, Jennifuzz, and Laura R. can corroborate that every word of this is true. So, mother, whatever it is you're itching to say to me right now, please hold off until I've safely landed in New York. We'll both be happier for it - ask anyone.