Gettysburg Addressee, Part Two
Gettysburg is a great place to live if you have a family, aside from the fact that parking can be a little trying when a Civil War reenactment is in full force. Due to its historic nature, the town tends to remain physically unchanged and has beautiful views of the Appalachians. The outdoorsy types among us would certainly appreciate all of the hiking and skiing opportunities that are only a short drive away. The town literally closes shop at dusk. Even living next to the Gettysburg College campus, I was hard-pressed to hear a pin drop on most nights.
Being the single guy I was at the time, this really didn’t work for me. Even though these are some of the friendliest people you will ever encounter, at least on the surface, the town leans towards parochial. It was a bizarre paradox. There were currents of intolerance swirling around the town, but at the same time these people would go out of their way to make your acquaintance. While walking to work, I even had someone run out on his porch at 5:30AM just to say hello, and ask if I knew another soul at the hospital. This is quite a bit different from living in the Philadelphia suburbs, where you don’t make eye contact with strangers and you mind your own business. Who even has time to say hello around here?
Like most small communities, it’s a tough place for an outsider to meet new friends, let alone compatible members of the opposite sex. That’s when my search expanded to the Internet, and I met my future wife, my future wife who was living in Chester County. Go figure that one. After commuting to see each other, I decided to move back here. This involved a career change to the pharmaceutical industry. The wife was a good move, and the jury is still out on the career change.
“You can’t always get what you want, but if you try sometime you just might find... you get what you need.” -The Rolling Stones.
Now if I could just get that career change into the writing field right, I’d be all good…
Being the single guy I was at the time, this really didn’t work for me. Even though these are some of the friendliest people you will ever encounter, at least on the surface, the town leans towards parochial. It was a bizarre paradox. There were currents of intolerance swirling around the town, but at the same time these people would go out of their way to make your acquaintance. While walking to work, I even had someone run out on his porch at 5:30AM just to say hello, and ask if I knew another soul at the hospital. This is quite a bit different from living in the Philadelphia suburbs, where you don’t make eye contact with strangers and you mind your own business. Who even has time to say hello around here?
Like most small communities, it’s a tough place for an outsider to meet new friends, let alone compatible members of the opposite sex. That’s when my search expanded to the Internet, and I met my future wife, my future wife who was living in Chester County. Go figure that one. After commuting to see each other, I decided to move back here. This involved a career change to the pharmaceutical industry. The wife was a good move, and the jury is still out on the career change.
“You can’t always get what you want, but if you try sometime you just might find... you get what you need.” -The Rolling Stones.
Now if I could just get that career change into the writing field right, I’d be all good…
posted by TGB at
3:24 AM
1 Comments:
I grew up in the country with those friendly small town folk you talk about. By gosh, I’m one of them! As a child, you were safe walking in the dark down the road to your neighbor’s house. Doors were left unlocked and you were always welcomed to any dinner table. That quaint little village is still the same size but unfortunately that is about all that is the same. The small corner store has become a restaurant, catering to a clientele that wants to appear a bit classier than we country folk. The large open meadows are now manicured pastures and there are more cars than pick-up trucks. Thankfully enough friendly folk remain so the pleasant country atmosphere still exists in pockets. Occasionally they manage to bring the new folk over to their side so the sweetness of country living still lingers. I’ve moved around a few times but always longed to go home to where I grew up. I let go of that dream when I learned that a restaurant now sits in the middle of the village, that pseudo-country people were buying up property and taxes were climbing. Is it so bad to have someone run out their door to say hello to you? To hear a pin drop at night? To see the stars in all their glory without artificial light impinging on the display?
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