For Some Reason...
I've never really much understood the notion nor necessity of lines demarking state boundaries; in fact, the whole idea seems remarkably antiquated, hearkening to a time when Ugzug had to travel outside his own tribe's watering-hole territory to do his part propagating the evolving species.
None the less, many humans still feel a sense of dedication to wherever they call "home". Heck, I've met folks who have never traveled too far outside whatever neighborhood of Younameitropolis wherein they've dwelled since conception.
I was born in Corpus Christi, Texas, and for most of my adult life lived in various regions of that vast, diverse 'state'. [Mayhap having been a military brat, with all it's inclusive itinerant meanderings, helped shape my headcocking attitude towards territorialism. Ironic as that reads. But, I digress...] At the ripe old age of fourteen suns I became holder of a license to drive thereupon and abouts. [And yes, we-- erm, they... Heh! See how ingrained the concept?!?-- have highways and byways there; even a horseless carriage or three. WHOA, Nellie!!!] Now, that license weren't good only in the Lone Star State, nosiree Bob! It were even valid if I wanted to take a long auto-mobile excursion to lands far and vastly foreign. Like, say, that "New" England, or even Georgia!!! [Um, the state, not the nation. Just clarifying...]
Well, today I went and paid an involuntary tax to have my license to drive issued from another "state". Now granted, the Tejas one was just as valid for driving in, through, around and about any other of the 49 United States, and mayhap even a few not-so-united ones. I exercised that privilege on more than a few occasions, too.
But then, I [bum-bom-BUUMMM!!!!] went and changed watering holes!!! AH, GADS, the NERVE!!!
So requireth the new number issuance.
And still, I'm oddly detached to trying to figger the whole notion out...
Saratoga Star Spring, Saratoga, NY. ca. 1865.
4 hours ago