Not until my departure for the East Coast did I appreciate the value of Minnesota, or realize how much I really loved it. In my 10 months in Northern VA/DC I think I've found myself proudly declaring at least 3 times a week, "I'm from Minnesota" followed by some obscure tidbit of cultural trivia. Granted, in the last several weeks most of these references have been in regard to "they're closing down the entire area for the week just for snow? That would never happen in Minnesota."
While in Minnesota, I was a consumer of the Minnesota culture and carried an appreciation for all Minnesota offered. However, my exile to the East Coast has created a yearning for all things Minnesotan. Despite readily available morning radio in the area, I find myself streaming the KQ morning show anytime I'm in front of a computer. Haven't any of these radio stations heard of the Jayhawks? Don't even bring up contemporary cultural influences unless you want to hear my ten minute dissertation on the genius of Garrison Keillor. Yes I know its nostalgia, but I have dug out my collection of Fitzgerald short stories for extensive examination. Let me tell you about Warren Burger's tenure on the supreme court and why he was the greatest jurist, and by the way, did you know he's a native Minnesotan?
This is the land of the Mayo Clinic, sticky notes, and Summit Beer. We have the Guthrie, the Walker, the Cathedral, and the Mall of America. We have ten thousand lakes and the spoon with the cherry. If any of these references don't mean anything to you, that's okay. They mean everything to Minnesotans.
So it's true, I'm swelling with hometown pride now that I reside in an unholy land. I am an heir to the culture of Bob Dylan, Sinclair Lewis, Walter Mondale, Charles Schulz, Hubert Humphrey, and of course Keillor and Fitzgerald. It may be true that if you can make it in New York you can make it anywhere. But after leaving my hometown, I don't know why anyone would want to make it anywhere but Minnesota.
