Whatever happened to good, old-fashioned confidence? Is it just me, or are we always at odds because we are always uncomfortable in our lives, in our skins, in our communities? Can we not feel vital until we've been important? Have we come to expect to be always at odds with someone about something or someplace? Are we living in the literal Mudville post-Casey's defeat? Our little neighborhood in a quite town of some 15,000 has decided to create a gateway to the "subdivision", including a sign, "plantings", etc. The idea of a "gateway" bothers me. A lot. There, I said it. We moved here but nine months ago and chose our home for many reasons, not the least of which was that it was NOT in a "named community" - a rarity in this little burg. Without it's name, known only to the county auditor and those willing to look-it-up, it felt unpretentious, non-nouveau riche, not hopelessly and desperately seeking attention. It felt like a natural part of the town - meant-to-be and unashamed to be un-named. The proposal to call attention to it now seems vulgar. Currently, as cars and people pass up and down our streets, I think nothing of it. When the sign goes in, and the citizenry pass through, I will feel...embarassed, like we are having to shout from the roof-tops, or out the windows of our cars, or from the signage at the "entrance" of our neighborhood that we belong - just like the rest of you - to this community and we will be heard. I want to ask: what is the big deal? (I'm sure some would ask that of me as well.) Why draw attention? Are we not secure enough in our own little world to not care who knows about us? Do we need to be able to say - "oh, we live in ..."? While I will grant that a patch of grass with a stop sign, a street sign, and a rock are not too asthetically pleasing, that patch of grass without a "subdivision" sign is a sigh of relief that at least one neighborhood feels comfortable enough with itself to leave the name-calling out of it. Perhaps it's the teenage rebellion in me still which hates to be pigeon-holed or found typical. Perhaps it's that fact that we moved from an area of the country known for its subversive segregation. Perhaps it's because I can't get behind something that screams for attention, unless it's a two-year-old which then enjoys the luxury of my understanding. Perhaps it seems so sad and perhaps not worth my attention. (Sigh.) Nonetheless, I am rebelling over a sign. Don't tread on me.
Today's conundrum: Is it wrong to want world peace? Does that make you a complacent know-nothing?
Future conundrum: Is it wrong to not care about world peace? Does that make you a complacent know-nothing?
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