You Know You Live in a Small Town When:

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You move to a new town, walk into one of the local merchants, give your name and they say 'Oh, you’re George’s cousin…"

true story.
 
True story:
I called the police department and was told, “They’re both at supper now. One of’em il call ya back after.”

I miss the small town life! :crying:
 
One of your offspring goes back to visit the small town after you’ve lived in the Big City for decades, and people say to him or her, “Oh, you’re a ___________ (insert last name here). From the ears, I’d say you belong to _____” and it’s your wife’s and your names!
 
You know that you’re growing up in a small town when

*you ask your granny if your related somewhere down the line to someone before you agree to go on a date w/ them.

*Your friends parents wont let them run around w/ you b/c your parents were too rowdy growing up and they assume that you are just as bad. (sad, but true)

*The Methodist church lets out at 11:45 so they can beat the Baptists to the cafe. Then, next thing you know, the Baptists are letting out at 11:30! Such a vicious cycle!
  • You remember the month of all your classmates birthdays and their middle names (which, actually isnt saying much, b/c there were only 15 of you)
  • You plan on spending several hours in a visitation line at the funeral home.
  • Most of your elem/high school teachers also taught your parents.
  • Not only do you have ‘your seat’ at church, but also at the ballgames.
  • you are considered silly for taking your keys out of your vehicle.
  • you dont lock the doors to your house either, b/c ‘someone may need in there for something!’.
 
. . .
  • You remember the month of all your classmates birthdays and their middle names (which, actually isnt saying much, b/c there were only 15 of you)
. . .’.
That’s a big town. We only had 18 in the whole high school. With three teachers that made a pretty good teacher/pupil ratio. The seventh and eighth grade were also in the town hall with us. They had their own teacher.
 
True story.

Twenty-two years ago we stopped in a little town (and I mean LITTLE!) in New Mexico called Pastura (might be on the map, might not). We were on our way to Santa Rosa for my great-great uncle’s 100th birthday celebration. My father grew up in Santa Rosa and left shortly after joining the Air Force and getting married and didn’t make many visits back after his mother died (that was 40 years ago). Anyway, the old man who was behind the counter at the gas station, came out, shook my dad’s hand and said, “You’re one of Carlos Romero’s relatives, aren’t you? One of Manuel’s (my grandfather’s) sons? How’ve you been? This is your family?” Well, they talked for about twenty minutes, my father never mentioning his name since the old man seemed to know all about him and the rest of his siblings. Then as we were leaving, the old man says, “So how’s Gilberto? I heard he moved to El Paso, but hasn’t been back in years.”

My dad IS Gilberto. The old man thought he was talking to my uncle Pablo, who is ten years younger than my dad (my dad was 66 at the time), but bears an amazing resemblence.

My dad never missed a beat. “He’s good. I’ll tell him you asked for him.” As we drove down the road, I said, “So, Dad, who was that man anyway?”

Dad said, “I haven’t the foggiest idea.”
 
…when half the roads are named after families that still live there!
 
The only thing in town that draws a bigger crowd than Mass is a ball game 🙂

(Jordan, Montana, pop. 360. Garfield County, area 5000 square miles, pop. 1200)

When the ambulance pager goes off and those responding are the VP from the bank, a clerk from the farmer’s union and the priest.
 
People think that your town is cultually diverse because you have both a Luthern and a Catholic Church in it!
:rotfl:
The only thing in town that draws a bigger crowd than Mass is a ball game 🙂
Or football games in the big cities – our pastor always makes a joke about that when it’s low attendance. If it’s not a football game, then it’s “Kripsy Kream must be having a sale”.

I’m amazed at how many people in small towns don’t lock their doors.

I’ve got a few -
  • You’re the only one in town who locks their doors and installs a security system. 😛
  • You’re riding through a small town, and when someone finds out what city you’re from, they say, “Rough neighborhood…”. (That actually happened while riding through Pennsylvania)
*you ask your granny if your related somewhere down the line to someone before you agree to go on a date w/ them.
I’ve always wondered about that in small towns. I guess that’s one of the reasons why they used to have arranged marriages (the other being married into prestigious families, probably).
 
well, I don’t think where I go to school qualifies as a small town relative to the size of town a lot of you are in but it is small compared to where I am from so here is my addition.

When you can’t tailgate, flip off and scream at the lousy slow drivers ahead of you since you don’t know if you might run into them some time soon in the future and have to be embarrassed about how rude you were on the road.
 
…when half the roads are named after families that still live there!
Actually, in the city next to my town, one of the residential streets is named for my mom’s family! As a result, my mom told us, “Don’t date anyone from that street, they could be related to us!” :rotfl:
 
:rotfl:
You’re riding through a small town, and when someone finds out what city you’re from, they say, “Rough neighborhood…”. (That actually happened while riding through Pennsylvania)
People say that about the city right next to our town:( I was born there and my parents grew up there and it’s probably safer than a lot of places. I could go there and my parents don’'t worry, they do worry, however, about me going to school in DC, yet the college I’m looking at down there is very safe and they love it.
 
Well, do I count? I’ve been sitting here in front of the window all morning, saw 3 cars, 2 bicycles, 2 people walking, and an Amish horse and buggy. And I live on one of the ‘main’ streets.
 
Well, do I count? I’ve been sitting here in front of the window all morning, saw 3 cars, 2 bicycles, 2 people walking, and an Amish horse and buggy. And I live on one of the ‘main’ streets.
In a really small town the main street is the only street.
 
A town newspaper is not necessary unless to confirm what everybody already knows.

They really are “kissin’ cousins”.😉

The “small town syndrome” can be pretty widespread. When I visited a city and a small mountain town some 30 minutes from my little Mexican town, people greeted me with questions and condolances about things that had happened “up north” but that I had not discussed with anyone, anywhere.
 
You know that you’re growing up in a small town when
*you ask your granny if your related somewhere down the line to someone before you agree to go on a date w/ them.
Oh geez. I didn’t find out until I’d been dating my first boyfriend for about a year that we were probably(my mom wasn’t 100% certain and didn’t feel like finding out) distantly related! And all of his best friends were distant cousins of his also! My next boyfriend, I found, I was kinda related to through marriage.

The majority of my class were related in some way.

I grew up with with my current boyfriend, but he moved there from Tennessee at age 14 so we’re not related.👍
 
OMGosh!!! I so identified with this thread. My ex-husband was freaked out when he saw where I grew up. He grew up in Philly and I grew up an hour west in the country. As we were driving there we went through a small city and he said, “Wow this is country” So I drove on and we came to a big town and again he said, “wow this is country” So I continued on to the small town I grew up in and he really freaked and said “wow this is country” So after our visit I took him to the farms on the outside of town. Before he could say anything I said, “Now, this is country” He looked at me totally scared and said, “No, this is desolation!” I laughed by butt off!!!

All our neighbors had our house key and we had theirs. Not that we ever locked unless we were out of town for more than a few days, just in case. If a neighbor left laundry on the clothes line we would go over and go in the back door, go to their laundry room, grab their baskets and go get their clothes off the line, fold them and put the basket back on the dryer. They did the same for us.

After I grew up I found out all the moms on my block had a deal… if they saw you doing something wrong at their end of the block they called your mom and your mom called them when their kids misbehaved on our end of the block!! Evil parents!!! Ruining all our fun!!!

My sister and her boyfriend got stopped for having open beer in the car. The cops made them dump the bottles and throw them down. My sister asked if they could have the bottles back because they were returnable and they let her. Then they took her to the station and asked when her curfew was and then they kept her there an hour past curfew because dad would have killed her for the alcohol, but they knew she would just get grounded for being late.

But you know it’s really bad when you go on a class trip to NY thinking you can get in trouble there cause nobody knows your mom there and the first person you meet asks where you are from because you look just like this woman they know from a small town outside Philly!!! I swear my mom was trying to ruin my life!!!

I swear this is all true!!!

But the number one answer is:
You know your from a small town when Cow tipping is the favorite pastime when you are a teenager.
 
You know you’re from a small town when you’re your own aunt, and spend your high school years trying to get your classmates to understand that…which then leads into their own discussion of them being their own cousins etc.

Okay explanation:

I was adopted by my maternal grandparents. My oldest sister is actually my biological mother.

Therefore, my sisters are actually my aunts and since my grandparents are my parents I am my own aunt(and my brother is my nephew)

haha, I’m gonna stop before I confuse myself.

Because of this I had to grow up with everyone saying “Oh you look just like your mother!”(Meaning my sister) I hated that. Mainly because my sister/biological mother didn’t have a very good reputation and everyone in town still remembers.

You know you’re from a small town when:

You go off to college and your mom’s biggest news when you call her is that she was talking to the post office lady today and bragging all about how I was 5 hours away in college and got angry when the manager at the Dairy Queen said I would probably not graduate, since her own daughter didn’t.

When you go back to visit, you see your entire high school graduation class either shopping or working at the local grocery store.

Everyone knows when you started dating your boyfriend, of whom is from the same town, and comes up to you to say how cute it is!

When you visit the closest major city, you’re always in awe and look like a tourist even if you actually only live an hour away.

When automatic car washes totally make your day, because you never saw one until you moved from your small town. They are really fun!

When you bring city friends to town and they are screaming the whole time as you are driving that “This isn’t a road!” and they think they’re going to die. Then, when you come up to the major one lane roadway they finally say “Okay this is a road!” and you exclaim “Nah, this is a highway!”-happened to boyfriend
 
Your then 7 yr old daughter breaks her leg jumping on a neighbor’s trampoline. She’s rushed to the hospital by EMS (a few neighbors), she ends up spending the night in the hospital. The following morning, she’s discharged in her full body cast. In the meantime, a “handicap” ramp is built on her front porch by another neighbor. Her first grade teacher walks over during her lunch hour bringing letters from her class. Lunch, dinner and babysitting is provided by more neighbors for many weeks to come.

true story - here in NJ, three years ago this April.
From a small town in Northern NJ myself and the below statement fits…

You know you live in a small town when you get your ‘sundries’ from ‘The General Store’…

🙂
 
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