By Wendy Cartwright

Guest columnist

I was pulling out of a restaurant this evening to head home when a gentleman in a red pickup truck in the oncoming lane waved at me.

I didn’t recognize him as anyone I’d ever met, but it’s not unusual for a random person to wave at a stranger in our small town.

Sometimes, when my husband and I are driving along, a person waves at us that seems a bit familiar. We discuss who it may have been, and sometimes, we figure it out. Sometimes, we don’t. And many times, people wave when they’re in parking lots or stores or when they’re walking down the sidewalk. Sometimes, they know you. Sometimes, they don’t.

We Midwesterners are a friendly bunch. It seems everybody knows everyone. And if they don’t know you personally, you have someone in common. Let me tell you about my childhood …

Every time I went anywhere with anyone. my parents got a report from someone. When I returned home, Mom or Dad would ask me what I was doing at (insert place here). It could have been Walmart, McDonald’s or the city park. It didn’t matter. Someone who knew them would see me and know who I was. I couldn’t get away with anything.

This was dangerous for me considering I had a specific radius in which I was allowed to travel. I once went to Broad Acres restaurant with a friend (if any of my readers don’t know where this was located, ask your parents). I was quickly reminded by my mother when I returned home that this was outside my approved zone. I don’t know who told on me and probably never will.

I was not a fan of Midwest hospitality as a kid. My dad would see someone in the grocery store he knew and talk for what seemed like an hour. We’d be standing in the aisle, me getting more and more impatient by the second.

When I entered adulthood, I was the type of person who dreaded seeing someone in public I knew. I would grab any product off of a store shelf and examine it intensely if I remotely recognized someone nearby. I did not want to talk.

These days, I enjoy seeing old friends when I go out. My husband often sees people he knows when we’re at Walmart or the gas station. Many times, I’ve never met them. He introduces them to me, and nine times out of 10, we have someone in common.

I have traveled to large cities. I’ve been to Los Angeles and New York City. City folk don’t have time for such things. I don’t think they’re unfriendly necessarily, just unaware, always busy, always in a hurry.

I love living in a small town where things move slower and we take the time to be friendly. I’m fortunate to have been able to travel to all of the places I’ve been. But you know what they say … They’re great places to visit, but I wouldn’t want to live there.

Wendy Cartwright hails from the North Vernon area and has lived there most of her life. She is 43 years old. She has a love of sharing her thoughts on growing up in the Midwest and other stories from her life. She spends her days reading and writing in the home that she shares with her husband and chihuahua. Send comments to [email protected].