Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Entering: Stepford

If you know where I'm from this is going to sound impossibly obvious, but I grew up in Stepford. Yeah, I know that I knew that on some level, and we all complained about how "Hingham is a bubble" and "everyone's the same" blah blah blah.

But seriously... Stepford.

I may have known that downtown effectively closes at 6pm, but I never noticed that the streets are empty by 9. It was always clear that the houses are big, but the lawns are manicured, the paint is fresh, and the cars are shiny. I knew that people dressed alike, but failed to note that they are so damn put together most of the time. I walked to the bagel shop for coffee yesterday in my standard jeans and sweater, and I couldn't get out of there fast enough. The 5th graders were more stylish and their hair was done. It was bizarre. After that, I spent more time getting ready to run errands around town than I usually do to get ready to go out for the night.

A big part of the "Stepford effect" is wrapped up in the fact that everyone knows everyone. I go *anywhere* and I am totally aware that my Mom knows (or at least knows of) everybody in town and so odds are good that someone in that store knows me. The mom in line behind me for coffee was a Hockey Mom, a Drama Mama, a Church goer, one of my brother's friend's moms, on a committee with my Mom- SOMETHING. The Mom network is intense and they know all of us. This isn't a popularity thing, or a self-centered kick. This is Hingham, and it's scarier than Sparta sometimes.

The Stepford I grew up in was a very aesthetically pleasing and safe place to live with good schools, a decent sense of community, and a great location. It is still home to my very favorite parents and the house they let me crash in from time to time. Still, Stepford is scary, and I have never been more aware of that than I am now.

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