I have a funny story to tell, one that also makes you see the questions I have to ask myself every once in a while. I think.
On to the story.
Today I went to the bank. That’s not part of it, but it leads up to it. When I got back to my apartment after going to the bank, there were some kids close by. I think they were doing things with snowballs. [As an aside, we got snow here in ML last Thursday. It’s not a lot, but the ground is mostly white.] One of them asked me if I was a news reporter. To which I replied I used to be. When he asked why I wasn’t anymore, I told him there were several reasons.
Here is where the questions come in. I decided to give a specific reason. I could have gone with the truth, which is personality conflicts at work. Instead, I went with another truth, though not as true, that this place is too small for me. That was something the kid didn’t comprehend, that this place is too small. I said this town is too small. He said, “It’s a city.” My reply? “This city is 5,000 people. My city is two million.” When I said my city was Toronto (Scarborough really, but I doubt he would have known where that is), he asked for my autograph. Apparently being a Torontonian makes me a celebrity.
And… Then I said I would be leaving in a week, and driving back. I don’t think the kid likes my car, because he said, “In that thing?” about my car. I don’t particularly like my car, but it does its job.