Field of Dreams

Having semi-recently moved from Illinois to California, I still meet people that are amazed that one could move so far by themselves. They're in awe of the fact that I'd be willing to leave everything I've known to go somewhere completely new. And there are two questions that get asked when anyone finds out I've semi-recently moved from Illinois.

1) So, Illinois. Chicago, right?

That's like going up to someone and saying, "Oh, Washington. D.C., right?" Or, "Oh, America. New York, right?" Right. Ok, maybe not exactly, at least in the Illinois/Chicago case, you've got like a 95% chance of being within at thirty mile radius or something. And it's a lot of fun explaining to people that, no, Illinois is not just Chicago. Illinois is actually a fairly tall state with lots and lots of various little hovels in which people live. At least they don't ask if I know their friend George.

2) So, how do you like California, compared to Illinois?

This is my favorite of the two questions. No matter how much fun it is to tell people that they are in fact wrong, it's even more fun to completely boggle their minds with the simple statement, "I miss the cornfields."

They'll pause, blink a few times, maybe even open and shut their mouth before they're finally able to get it out. "Really?" Why is it that people don't see the appeal of cornfields? I am forced to admit, though, that even if I didn't miss the cornfields, I'd probably have to use the same answer, so I guess their confusion is understandable.

But really, where are they expecting me to keep my crop circles? In a field of artichokes?