"Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, a certain initial girl-child."—Vladimir Nabakov Lolita
As some might have gleaned from the somewhat sardonic tone I've taken in previous posts, and the equally sardonic attitude I seem to have toward my temporary hometown, I'm at the point in my life where I'm itching to put small-town living on hiatus for a little while and try my hand at a slightly more urban existence. It's not that I have any great aversion to small towns; it's just that I always seem to find myself in one.
I grew up in Medway, Massachusetts, a town too far from Boston to really be considered a suburb. It aesthetic terms, it was a pleasing enough childhood, although it certainly had it's darker undertones—one of our neighbours (or should I say "neighbors") tried to kill his wife and kids, but wound up burning his face off. Beyond this, I recall an air of surreptitiousness seemed to pervade—but if I give too much away here there won't be any impetus to buy my memoir. Please enjoy this promotional video of my hometown, directed by David Lynch:
After Medway, my next small-town experience was in Lennoxville, PQ, where I completed my undergraduate degree. Next to Lennoxville, Medway we a veritable booming metropolis. Beyond the university, Lennoxville didn't have a tremendous lot going for it. I spent most of the time drinking cheap wine in friends apartment and deliberating in the Tim Hortons line as to whether or not I should order mon moyen café in tried, tested, true English, or mysterious French—a beautiful language that can barely distinguish between a house and a home. This video tour will give you some idea of what it was like (although I don't personally recall things looking quite so bleak.)