My Hometown

So my hometown is really weird (or maybe everyone’s is).

The Husband and I went on an adventure. We went to have a socially distant hangout with my parents. OK, so my definition of adventure is somewhat changed with the broken leg…

We got takeout, and the restaurant had moved. It was now on the *gasp* West Side, Wichita definitely has that east coast/west coast thing going. I moved to Wichita in 1976. I almost never went to the west side. I lived in an apartment in Riverside for a bit in 1998, but never got the hang of it. Last night, I needed google maps to figure out how to get back to the highway, and we made a few wrong turns.

I always said growing up that I wouldn’t live west of the Canal Route (I135). Of course now I live in Western Kansas. Pretty much everything west of the turnpike is Western Kansas to me.

It has other weirdness too. Everyone on the east side seems to know everyone else, or at least is a friend of a friend. If you haven’t met them, you know their sibling, or parents, or your brother is friends with them. They went to school with your cousin, something.

The other weirdness is the closeness of various different socio-economic strata. I lived in a smallish bungalow in College Hill and was literally a block from a Frank Lloyd Wright house.

Wichita is wacky, but was a good place to grow up.

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