The Small Town Curse

"Well I was born in a small town,
And I live in a small town.
Prob'ly die in a small town,
Oh, those small communities...

All my friends are so small town.
My parents live in the same small town.
My job is so small town,
Provides little opportunity..."

When I was at my Freshman Orientation at BU in June of 2000, I met Dave Bresler from Clifton Park. He had just graduated from Shenendahowa High School and would be spending the next four years in COM along with me. We had a class together that year and used to talk about stuff back home, happenings and places and people. He didn't go home all that often, and he told me this: "We've got to get out while we can. It (the capital district) sucks you in. If you don't get out now, you'll never get out." It took me a little while, but I can now see exactly what he was talking about: the Small Town Curse.

Glenville, NY is my hometown. It's small. It's quiet. It's the antithesis of Boston. But it's my home. It's where I grew up. I have a lot of memories from there. But it's not where I want to spend the rest of my life.

Being home last week and driving around, I was welcomed by all those hometown sights and sounds. Coming over the Western Gateway Bridge, I was embraced by the familiarity of the Glen Sanders Mansion and Jumpin' Jacks. O'Leary's and Scotia Cinema were just as I had left them. And Wal-Mart has just as many woodchucks as usual...maybe more.

But all this familiarity can be dangerous. It creates a whirlpool effect of sorts that draws you back in and swishes you around. It seems both benevolent and inviting. It's a matter of convenience, in that you already know your surroundings and neighbors. It draws you in, as if to say, "Welcome back, we all missed you" while sneering under it's breath "We all knew you couldn't stay away for long." Metaphorically speaking, it's like the town of Spectre in Big Fish. All the locals ask Edward Bloom why he would ever leave such a warm, inviting place. Perhaps Spectre is the prime example of the Small Town Curse.

You see, back home in that small town, you feel safe. You know everybody when you walk into the grocery store, and you know the quickest route from A to B. You know when the local farm stand starts selling ears of corn, that the bars close much too early, and that each summer seems a little shorter than the last.

What you don't know is how blinding this all is. Days blend into months which blend into years. You don't see how realize time flies. With each year that passes, it gets more and more difficult to leave because of everything you've built there: a career, a reputation, a circle of friends, perhaps even a family. And I understand that the older you get, the quicker time seems to fly, no matter where you go. But it just seems different in that small town.

I have friends and people that I know will never leave my hometown. And for them, that's just fine. It worked out for my parents and some of my other relatives. It has worked out for my neighbors. But when I turned 18, I headed off to Boston for a change of scenery, maybe destined for greater things. And now, as I stand in my waning days out here, I can't help but feel a sense of fright in that I, too, will succumb to the Small Town Curse. I spent four years trying to figure out how get away, only to have to return unemployed and beaten. In going back home, I feel that I've lost the battle. I feel that I'm saying to everyone that ever told me "You can't do it" that they were right.

Glenville, NY will always hold a spot in my heart because of the time I spent there and the memories that were forged. But for me, it's not where I want to spend the rest of my life. I'm skeptical to apply for a broadcast job there, in fear that I'll never get out. I don't want to turn into an Ethan Frome. I'm still looking to avoid the Small Town Curse.

Maybe some of you out there feel the same way...