Whenever people meet, invariably one will ask the other, "Where are you from?" I used to name my birth city but learned that was not such a good idea. Saying I’m from Louisiana indicates I grew up in Louisiana. Although I spent a little time in that State, I grew up in and have been influenced by many, many other places that have nothing to do with the Southland. I don’t speak with a southern accent, and I don’t necessarily have a southern attitude.
Recently in Shreveport, Louisiana, I got tangled up with a guy suffering the throws of road rage. In the middle of all his yelling, he called me a “Yankee.” It almost stopped me in my tracks—we were standing no more than ten miles from the hospital in which I was born. When he finally left, I began to laugh. “Bless his confused little heart.”
Unlike the song, I haven’t quite been everywhere. But there’s time still. Now that we are all big pals, I'd like to see China, Russia, and Cuba. The two state's I've always wanted to visit, I've never been, Alaska and Maine.
On My Own