Somewhere between the mezze platter and the "Cool Me Off" Gazpacho, however, Kyle and I were confronted with a question that we have been having difficulties answering lately. No. Nobody asked when we were planning to have kids. It was seemingly simpler than that. Where were you before coming to Memphis, Margot asked, and we were both at a loss for words.
Well... right before we moved to Memphis, we were living in Freiburg, Germany. Before that we were in Central Pennsylvania. Before that... Sofia, Bulgaria. However, Kyle is from San Francisco (even though he spent his high-school years in Connecticut) and I'm from a small town right outside of Sofia. Now let me catch my breath.
We need to simplify our story. Or our life. I don't know.
I was still thinking about this when I came across the following little story over at Marginal Revolution:
I order my bagel from a gentleman with a thick New York accent and he eyes me suspiciously. Finally he grunts out, in a tone slightly less than that of accusation:
Server: "Where are you from?"
(I pause. There are different answers to this question, depending who is asking and where you are. Is it about where you were born, where you grew up, where you live now, and in the latter case how specific should the location be? In Ghana I should say "Washington," though in Portland that answer fails. In North Carolina I can say "northern Virginia." In Arizona I should say "Virginia." In El Salvador I try "Falls Church.")
I answered, after a pause, with a feeling of insecurity:
TC: "New Jersey"
I feel relieved. We are not alone in this.
Photo via Guccio