Readers often assume I live in the city where they read my column. This is not a bad thing. As a matter of fact, it may be proof that even in the Age of Contention, the spirit of neighborliness still lives.
A woman in California once invited me for lunch at a Monterey country club and said she would reserve a parking space for me out front. I thanked her for the gesture but told her not to hold the parking space, as it would be a good three-day drive.
A few weeks ago, a reader acknowledged my appreciation for the outdoors and welcomed me to walk their farmland and woods anytime. They live in Alabama. I’d need an overnight bag and two days to get there and back.
After a speaking engagement, a woman once told me she was happy to know we lived in the same city. When I said I didn’t live in her city, she said, “Well, that’s not what I heard.” She was so adamant that I checked my driver’s license on my way back to the car just to make sure I was right. Whew!
The amazing thing about all this is that even though people think our family lives in the vicinity of their family, they don’t immediately stick a “For Sale” sign in the front yard.
By way of disclosure, our home has been in Indianapolis, Indiana for 30-plus years. Neither my husband nor I were born here, but we attend the State Fair almost every year, which officially makes us Hoosiers.
I only mention where we live because we Hoosiers are on the verge of making national news and I fear it may spur controversy.
State Senator Ron Grooms introduced a bill naming popcorn the official State Snack. That’s right, you heard it here first.
The potential controversy is that upon introducing the bill the senator said, “I want Indiana to be known for more than basketball.”
The man inadvertently drew a line in the sand—and on the basketball court and in every popcorn farmer’s field. It’s probably just a matter of time before popcorn people declare popcorn more noble than basketball, and basketball people start bouncing balls against the homes of popcorn people late at night. In turn, popcorn people will become hardened and refuse melted butter and salt to family and friends.
Just when you thought things couldn’t get any uglier.
Here’s hoping push does not come to more pushing, shoving and flagrant fouls.
That said, the senator also struck a lovely note of humility, acknowledging that Indiana is number two in the nation for popcorn production (behind Nebraska, the No. 1 popcorn producer.)
How many states boast that they are in second place? The ability to be humble is a fine quality – on the court, off the court, in the field, in the home and in your community. Humility says something good about a place and its people.
So, no matter what you’ve heard, I live in Indiana, the state that separates Michigan from Kentucky, humbly acknowledges that we are No. 2, and has officially named popcorn the state snack.