A place where everyone knows your name

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Moms were pushing babies in strollers. Dressed in red, white, and blue. The day felt unifying. For a moment we were all proud to be Americans.

There were no protests, just happy looks, and friendly faces. It felt very small town, and it was.

Moving so fast, you find yourself missing out of the things that matter.

A scenic beach front image, or the architectural beauty of a major city’s skyline captured on your camera phone, will never come close to a game of cards with friends. The kind of game where no one remembers who won. You only remember who ate too much of the guacamole, and who spilled the first drink.

People are interesting things. I write about them and what makes them interesting.

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