I’m from somewhere in between the lines on the page and the rules in the book, where I once thought I had it all figured out to where I had not one single clue to somewhere between knowing and not knowing and finally finding a happy place.
I’m from a short-lived romance and years of sorting it all out, where two young people played and paid, to one stayed and one wandered away.
From the back room of a beauty parlor fragrant with permanent solution and the front seat of a Marlboro smoke filled ford pick-up truck.
I’m from farms, small towns and mid-sized cities.
I’m from fiercely, sometimes frighteningly, independent and strong women. From women’s rights and making something of yourself from nothing.
I’m from Atari and Intellivision and the land of latch-keys.
I’m from way too interested in boys way too early to being so surrounded by them now I sometimes can’t see through the clouds of testosterone.
I’m from long lines of irrigation pipe in a field of alfalfa and fifty-cent soda pops at a golf course with sand greens and a screwed up lesson in economics.
I’m from double features at the drive-in, the Grease soundtrack on permanent rotation and Thriller. From Hungry Like the Wolf and Shout at the Devil to Fight for Your Right.
I’m from chicken fried steak with cream gravy and enchilada casserole.
I’m from purple mountain majesty and the fruited plain.
I’m from The Wizard of Oz once a year every year without fail. From Star Wars before they were ruined with prequels.
I’m from the harsh reality of junior high to nearly giving up in high school. I’m from barely getting into college and taking six years to get out and still not knowing what I want to do with my life.
I’m from schnitzel and bratwurst and pilsner to lots and lots of Eurpoean chocolate.
I’m from trying too hard to make the wrong things work and not trying hard enough on things that matter. From stand by my man Tammy Wynette style to running away with the best man style.
I’m from doing it all wrong and somehow still getting it right.