My little town

The Spartanette just posted a wonderful piece about culture shock. She's a Michigan State University student and a fabulous blogger. I could certainly relate to her reaction to her hometown residents' reaction to a newly expanded chain Mexican restaurant.
I just found it amusing, but then again, I chose to live in a little village where the house is almost in the woods.

This could say something about 'Merica. Down in Holland, Mich., on our way to Chicago, Kissy Missy and I stopped for lunch. Next to each other, sharing a parking lot and road access from U.S. 31, were a Panera Bread and a Culver's restaurant.
Think about this: The prices are roughly equivalent. The access is equal. The calorie count probably is equivalent.
But in the Culver's lot -- a restaurant that features burgers and deep-fried everything -- all but one of the cars was American: Fords, Merkeries, Chivvies, and we count Dodges as 'Merican, even though they ain't. In the Panera lot, about two-thirds of the cars were Toyotas, Hondas and Nissans.
A wise school superintendent once told me that to stay in touch with reality, educators need to sit outside Wal-Mart and watch the people for a while. Those are the people whose children we educate, the real 'Mericans.