You Can Take The Girl Out of the Town, But . . .

More catch-up . . . getting old Inside Out columns from the newspaper onto the blog. Enjoy one from December 2010.

It’s an odd feeling being a stranger in your own hometown. This November marked nine years since I talked my Southern husband into moving to Yankeeland so I could take a job in the one place I’d known all my life.


In those years, we’ve spent just a handful of months actually living in Callicoon, although technically four miles outside of town. Yet, working at the Democrat, it was like I’d never left. I got my mail. I grabbed a soda at Peck’s. I picked up sandwiches at Lander’s. I caught my movies at the Callicoon Theater.

Until the freelance life came calling. And then a full-time job, from home. In the past year and a half, I’ve become more than just a resident of my house. I’ve become a hermit. Jonathan and Jillian leave in the morning for school, and save for a few walks to the kitchen and the bathroom, I don’t leave my chair until it’s time to meet the bus. A run to Jeff for ballet at the Janice Center is a big excursion.

In a year and a half, I’ve become like Vera from Cheers. You know she exists, but you never see her, so you begin to wonder. On my big outings, people stop and stare. “We never see you anymore! Where have you been hiding yourself?”

I look the same – maybe a little bigger around the middle from all the sitting, maybe a little older from the introduction of a kindergartner’s attitude into our house.

But the Callicoon I knew and loved (love?) keeps changing. A new sign here, a new store there, new faces everywhere. I stood in the wine store on Saturday to stock up for the holiday, and I stared at a wall full of business cards with unfamiliar names, took note of a raffle for a Callicoon event I knew nothing about.

I’ve clung to the name “Callicoon” as my hometown on my Facebook profile (come on, if it’s Facebook official, you know it must be so), but call me for Callicoon news, and I have to admit I’m stumped.

I’m a “Callicoon girl,” but I’m a Callicoon Center resident these days. It’s here where I get my news. Here where I stand in the post office five days a week, grabbing my mail and waiting for the bus. Here where I hit the Village Market for a bottle of caffeine and the occasional cheese sandwich. If we had a movie theater and a pharmacy, I might never leave. As it is, streaming Netflix and the Internet are filling the holes nicely these days.

But don’t count me out yet. As long as there is the Democrat in Callicoon, I’ve still got one foot in the door.
I’m still a Callicoon girl.

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