There’s a Cross Canadian Ragweed song that says, “You’re always 17 in your hometown.” And in a lot of ways, its true. I don’t know what it is about rolling into your hometown that slips you back into that mode. You remember your high school glories. Suddenly I find myself walking with that old swagger. I look around and, while many things have changed, I find a deep comfort in how much is still the same.
I’m in my hometown right now, working at the family business. The other day, I had to make a trip over to the pharmacy. I forgot to pack allergy pills and had to go grab myself a bottle to get through the change in climate and geography.
As I went to leave, I noticed a couple cars in the parking lot. Probably 7 or 8 high school aged kids were hanging out. I had my windows up so I couldn’t hear if they were jamming out to tunes or anything. But I recognized that swagger in their step. I recognized the attitude in how they leaned against the cars. This town is THEIR town right now. They are the keepers of the school’s spirit.
It made me smile. It made me actually shake my head to realize none of them were even in school when I was in their shoes. It didn’t make me feel old, as I thought it would. It just made me realize that time moves on, and they are where they are to be and I am where I am meant to be. I wouldn’t trade places with them for all the money in the world.
I may be in my hometown… but I am most definitely not 17. And I am totally happy in that fact.