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Health & Fitness

Yeah, I'm From Loganville...Or Grayson...Well, Both Actually. What Of It?

Asked to the wrong person, a simple question can turn into a 45 minute geography lesson on our local towns and cities.

Someone asked me the other day where I lived.

"Loganville," I began. "Well, my mailing address is Loganville, but my house is right down the street from Grayson High School, and it only takes me five minutes to get to Grayson as opposed to the twelve minutes it takes me to get to Loganville. So I guess I could say I really live in Grayson."

My questioner looked a bit lost. I tried to explain further.

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"See, the zip code for Loganville covers the area where my house is, even though the city of Grayson is closer. So for federal and state purposes, I live in Loganville. But honestly, if you were to ask me that question ten times, nine times out of ten I'd say I live in Grayson. I hate being bossed around by the government anyway."

She was still at a loss. I decided to change my tactic.

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"See, where a person lives is really about a state of mind, you know. I don't want to get all philosophical on you, but the old adage about home being where the heart is has a lot of truth to it, assuming you hold to a school of philosophy that believes in objective truth that is true across all times for all people, and not to a school that holds the only truth is what an individual perceives. If you hold to relativity, then the adage doesn't make much sense.

"But I believe in objective truth, so I believe that home is where the heart is has a legitimate truth contained within. And my heart is with the people of Grayson, because that's where my church is, and it's also where I work, mainly because I work at my church. And not just as a volunteer, mind you, but as a full-time staff member. I teach the youth. They love me because they say I'm really easy to understand.

"Anyway, since my heart belongs to Grayson, I consider Grayson to be my home, even though my mailing address is Loganville. And it's not like I have anything against Loganville - I love Loganville! It's just that my natural reflex is to say I live in Grayson because that's where the majority of my intra-personal relationships are."

At this point, my inquistor looked decidedly uncomfortable, as if some sort of substance had oozed up from the ground and into her socks. Her mouth moved as if she was saying something, but I couldn't make out much more than, "Please...please..." It seemed as though I had blown the poor woman's mind.

"It's really not that hard," I said. "If you have an iPhone or an Android phone, I'd be happy to show you on a map."

A tear ran down her cheek.

"Or, an even better way to remember it is, if you're coming down Highway 20, which some folks call Loganville Road but others call Lawrenceville Road, which is silly, because Lawrenceville is way down the road a piece from where I'm talking about, once you come to Hope Holler - sorry, Hope Hollow - Road, that's the basic geographic marker. If you live on the right side of Hope Holler - Hollow; again, sorry - then you're a Grayson resident, unless your home is less than 10 years old, in which case you live in Loganville. And if you live on the left side of the road, you're a Loganville resident, regardless."

The poor woman blinked rapidly, as if trying to process too many flashing images, and suddenly she ran away, screaming, as if some sort of demon were chasing her.

As I watched her go, an older gentleman tapped me on the shoulder.

"I know exactly what you're talking about," he said. "I grew up in that area."

"Oh, good!" I chirped. "Then what I said made sense."

"Absolutely."

"Thank goodness. I was starting to feel a little crazy, you know?"

The old man nodded. "Now, have you lived in Grayson all your life?"

"No sir. I grew up in Snellville," I said. "Well, I say Snellville, but really it was Centerville, unless you went by my mailing address, in which case I grew up in Lithonia, but that's silly because Lithonia was a good twenty minutes down the road, whereas Snellville was only ten minutes if the traffic lights were right. And Centerville wasn't really even a city, heck it wasn't even a town, it was more like a little bump on the road, so I guess I'd have so say Snellville, unless you consider that home is where the heart is, in which case..."

When I looked up, the old man was gone.

It's sad. People simple don't have any sense of direction anymore.

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