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Learning things that I should have already learned

When I was a teenager, already plotting by what means I might escape this backward little ‘burg ( or ‘ville, I suppose), my father told me that he thought Smithville was a crappy little town when he was a young man too, and that he couldn’t wait to get away from here.
Bear with me.
He went on to say that once he had traveled halfway around the world he had come to the conclusion that everywhere else was worse, and he couldn’t wait to get back here.
Now that Pops is starting to strongly resemble a grey-haired old guy, and I am approaching what I’m going to call “The Twilight of My Youth”, I think I finally understand what he meant.
I think I can speak for the entire staff of the Review when I say that the fact that we are the keepers of a 119 year-old tradition is never far from our minds.
Every day when we walk into the office we are greeted with a wall of bound volumes of the paper dating back to 1947, when the original office burned, destroying copies back to 1892.
You can almost swim in these volumes.
You can watch the county and the area evolve in a way that will keep you glued for hours, and you’re welcome to come by and take a dip. Bring your own lunch.
I have seen a few places now, and I’m pretty sure I’m gonna have to agree with my father on the subject. Everywhere else is worse.
He also said that I was too thick to understand, but that I would get it someday.
Right again Pop.


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