Rube in the City

Introducing a new semi-regular feature here at the The Roving Home:

Rube in the City

Not to make too much of my Midwestern roots, but as we know from thousands of hours of analysis and Woody Allen movies (the same thing, really), place is everything. And even though I’ve never really entirely identified with being born and raised in a rural  community, the country life begins to feel (as a movie hillbilly might say) all-powerful familiar whenever I’m confronted by the sheer otherness of city life. Still, I love my experiences, when they come, of wading into the hordes of people, the wild thickets of buildings and cultures found in the world’s major cities – or at least the five or so of them in which I’ve spent time – and have no shame about engaging in some wide-eyed staring at… everything. (I’m a little more discreet when it comes to staring at people. I think.)  Continue reading