South to North
In 1915 my father's mother died while walking down the stairs. He was 3 years old and they lived in Birmingham, Alabama. I never got many details about the odyssey that followed, just a few milestones.

My dad, Frank, was pretty much raised by his sister who was 10 years his senior. When his father eventually remarried, he gained a couple of stepbrothers to raise hell with and a stepmother he hated. The big change was the move to Chicago at age 14. He apparently didn't care for the Windy City and ran away from home on at least two occassions.

He must have found a way to accept his new home over time, because I remember hearing stories about him singing 3 part harmony on the street corners with his friends, and getting into trouble with his stepbrothers. He bought his first car new in Chicago, a 1931 Ford Fayeton for $750.
So My Dad was raised in 2 worlds - South and North - and I think it muddled his identity. He had no trace of a Southern accent but when he called his sister in Hattiesburg, Mississippi you'd think he'd never left the Gulf Coast. " Well. how y'all doin' down there!"
My favorite example of his cultural confusion happened about 1961. I was 10 and the news was full troubles in the South. That was long before any inroads had been made into racial equality. I asked my Dad at dinner one night "Daddy, you're from the South but you don't hate Negroes do you?"
His careful answer pleased my mother very much. Something like "No, son, I believe all men are created equal and that everybody deserves to be treated the same". My mother beamed during the brief silence that followed.

Then he said, "Of course I wouldn't eat with one!"
The scene closes with my mother screaming "Frank!"

Arcade
I took my son to the video arcade today while his sister had a play date. He raced cars and motorcycles through virtual landscapes, kickboxed with scary man beasts, and assaulted evil doers with a variety of weaponry. It's true that boys are made from snips and snails and puppy dog's tails but you don't really know your son until you see him brandish a semi-automatic weapon and take-out terrorists positioned on the Tower Bridge in London. It is both comforting and disturbing to see Jack's considerable sharp shooting skills. I supposed that if I'm ever in a standoff with an ATF task force it will good to have Jack on my team.

Meanwhile Aly was playing with her friend Allie who lives in one of the many mini-Tara's on the other side of town. Allie's Dad is in the baseball hall of fame but, of course, I never heard of him. He has apparently opted to be a free agent and divorced Allie's mom, a drop-dead gorgeous blonde. Going over there to pickup my daughter is another one of those worlds collide experiences. WE get a lot of those. Things often happen that struck Terry and me funny that just stay in our private world. Like the time I was in the local pool with the kids. Aly asked a girl if the woman behind her was her Mom and girl replied "No that's my au pair". I don't know but hearing that through Aly's ears (who was just beginning to learn English then) and seeing the look on her face struck me as funny.
Then there was the event in Jack's kindergarten last year to celebrate the hatching of chicks the kids had been monitoring. They put on a little party called Chick Fest and invited all the parents. And there was Terry trying to bond with the other Sudbury moms with lines like "I wasn't sure how to dress for the Chick Fest. Thought I should wear a black bra and tight pants". No reaction.
It can be lonely here.