One Strange, Lonely Man
A friend of mine moved from the Midwest to a mountain state. On his way out he camped along the way, taking a few days to make the drive instead of going straight through and one-eyeing it down the other side of the Continental Divide. At one his campgrounds he met a jolly man on a riding lawnmower (blade removed) who asked why my friend was heading West. He said skiing, cycling, in other words, mountains. My friend, ever polite, asked why this man had settled in the are he'd chosen. He said, and I'm paraphrasing here but it's not far off, "I"m an incredible bigot, I hate everyone who's not like me, so I decided to come somewhere where I could be myself." I sometimes consider this sad, lonely man, and wonder where he draws the line at "not like me." Is it political views, race, a general ethos, eyeglasses, or Ford vs Chevy? At some point that pool of people like you must get pretty small.
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