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We moved to a place eight hours, or 450+ miles from my childhood home. People here are different, outside of New England. They aren't New Englanders. Or New English, if you prefer. The differences are subtle and are felt subconsciously, but they are present. But one comforting cord that binds us together as children of this age is that of the urban myth. Alligators live in the sewer. Mikey, from the Life Cereal commercial of the 80's consumed Pop Rocks and Coca Cola, and his stomach exploded. Ingenious, if totally fabricated. Who thinks of these things? Someone made up a story once, and told it. And not only did plenty of American children believe it, more importantly, they passed it on. Mikey is now an indelible part of the American myth structure. And the authors anonymity only serves the story more, because if you dont know who made it up, then who's to say it isn't true? How many people have such an impact on a culture. John Lennon? Maybe. Kurt Cobain? Hardly. So I've decided to start lying to children. Seriously. Whoppers, too. Not just little fibs or fabrications. Young children are so much better at believing in impossible things. Thats why they are so happy. And the big ones are the stories that they'll remember, so there's no sense sparing the details. Fifty years from now someone will be far away from their home, sitting in a coffee shop, talking to the waitress. He'll say, "well you know what they say about that...", and she'll say "yeah that's what I've always heard too", and then maybe he wont feel so far from home. And I'll be sitting at the counter with my coffee thinking, smiling, thinking, "That was one of mine."

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