It Is What It Is

I have lived in Rolfe Iowa for 30 years now. Over the course of those years I have tolerated, sometimes hated, and finally have learned to appreciate life in a small rural town in Iowa. I have experienced implications from extended family members that I have a pathetic life in a god forsaken location, but as I said to my niece once, don't feel sorry for me. I have chosen to live here. Travelling abroad and reading broadly I have come to realize that people who live in small rural areas are the curiosity of the world. We have our iconic characters that are the stuff of books and we live so remotely that most of the world wants a glimpse of what its like. When travellers visit a foreign country they want most of all to go to a place where real people live away from the touristy spots. I like to think I live in one of those places. I like to think I live about as real a life as it gets.

I have travelled abroad to Italy and Chile and travelled in this counrty from Boston to San Francisco. I have eaten benets in New Orleans, shopped Michigan Avenue in Chicago and ridden the metropolitan bike  trails in Minneapolis.  I have loved it all and want to do more of it.I have loved the food choices and the coffee shops, the parks, the architecture, the lights, and the excitement. But when my travels end I am always ready to return to the small community I live in.

I know most everyone I see in my small town. I love it that when I walk down the street someone a block away might yell out my name in greeting. Or when I call the wrong number, I love it that I recognize the voice on the other end of the line and after apologizing for the error am told the number of the person I meant to call. I love it that I can ride for 40 miles on the rails to trails, that I can access from my town, and some days not meet another single solitary soul. I think its cool that I can leave my car unlocked and charge my groceries. Once when my brother arrived for a visit ahead of my arrival from being away, he went to the local grocery store and was recognized as not one of our own. The clerk asked him if he was Carmella's brother and then told him to tell me happy birthday. They knew he was coming. They knew it was my birthday.


                                  


Rolfe Fire Trucks in the Rolfe Greater Days Parade July 2012

When I want to taste the city all I have to do is make a reservation and a road trip. I can go to Des Moines and visit the museum, botanical center, walk the trail, eat at the Latin King, and shop East Village. I can experience the city. If someone from Des Moins wants to experience my small community, they better know someone to visit. There is no hotel. You can't visit it by paying admission. You can't experience it by driving through it. You have to have a guide.

I used to tell my daughters to make sure they live somewhere where they can buy nylons and green onions on Sunday. They have all taken my advice. I don't believe any of them would return to life in the community they grew up in. They have found a sense of community where ever they have landed, or they have been willing to forego it for the amenities of the city. But they have it nice. They can come home anytime they need a fix and languish in the solitude of the small town. They are lucky. So am I.