This strip is slightly exaggerated, but not as much as the Sunnyside, Washington chamber of commerce might hope.
I’ve been pretty mean to my home town, and I intend to continue. But it’s not really so bad, as small towns go. It’s just . . . I have this theory that there are two kinds of people who are born in small towns. Some reach their teenage years, look around, and say “Yeah, this is good. I think I’ll stay here.” Others reach that same age, look around, and say “I need to get as far away from here as possible, as fast as I can.”
My older brother still lives in the Yakima Valley, only a town or two away from Sunnyside, and seems quite happy there. I live in Phoenix, Arizona – a huge, sprawling metroplex. I like it, even though I live in a scrub-infested desert with regular sandstorms and, inexplicably, there are feed lots and corn fields within a five-minute drive of my house, things I complain about in this comic.
Oh, and we did build a fort out of tumbleweeds when we were kids. It was scratchy.